CHOP Line

by Henry V. O'Neil

  “How is he? What’s he doing?” The words tumbled out in a whisper. She felt again the oxygen-stealing punch when Tin had dropped her back on Larkin. Remembered the Banshee’s accusation that Ayliss had precipitated a blood-soaked disaster when she’d ignored Blocker’s commands. Accepted for the first time that Tin had been right.

  “Deep breaths.” Scalpo listened to her chest, front and back. “He’s the new First Sergeant of the support company that handles Banshee Basic. The troops who brought your chow today are some of his. He had the PA slot waiting for me when I arrived.”

  “And Tin?”

  “Shipped out. She’s a sergeant now. With the way the war is going, they need all the experienced people they can get. Ewing’s been attached to Banshee Basic HQ. He’s already reconfigured their commo.”

  “How is he?”

  Scalpo flashed a light in her eye. “Surprisingly well. That episode on Larkin had a bizarre effect on him. He’s off his meds, if you know what I mean.”

  “But he’s all right.”

  “Don’t worry. Dom’s got him in hand. Take off your boots and socks.”

  “And the fallout? Apart from what happened to you?”

  “You mean your family. Don’t worry about them. The upper crust have their own way of working things out.” Ayliss pulled off her socks, realizing that she hadn’t considered how Rittle’s death could have affected Jan or Reena, and feeling more guilt.

  Scalpo lifted her left foot, studying the small square bandages that shielded her quickly hardening blisters. “Put all that high-level nonsense out of your head. You’ve got a job to do, and a lot of room for improvement from what I hear. Your trainers refer to your squad as a bunch of frantic fuckups.”

  Ayliss pulled her foot away, slamming it down on the metal flooring. She brought a finger up in front of the other man’s nose. “Don’t you say a word about my squad.”

  Scalpo leaned back, smirking. “My, my. Blocker was worried you wouldn’t gel with your new playmates. He’ll be happy to hear that’s not true.”

  “You’re a bastard, Chief.” Ayliss presented her other foot, and the PA went back to work. Her thoughts returned to Jan and Reena and, surprisingly, to Mira Teel. So many people impacted by her rashness, too far away to take any of it back. How many pushups for all that? Her brain attempted the calculation, and then found the solution. “Chief, there’s something I need to fix. Do you think Dom can get a message to Mira Teel, the Step Worshiper?”

  “I know who she is. The Delphi was temporarily impounded when two of her passengers misbehaved themselves on Larkin.” Ayliss waited. “Yes, I’m sure he can.”

  “I lied to her, about my experiences in the Step. She thinks my father’s still alive, and that he tried to contact her. She dreamt about a set of polished rocks, basically jewelry, and I didn’t tell her I’d had similar dreams. The stones were gifts from my father.”

  “Interesting.” Chief lowered her foot. “Considering what the Steppers believe, and the way your dad disappeared.”

  “Yes. Dom will remember the stones.” A wave of regret passed through her. “I wanted to get off of Mira’s ship, so I lied to her. Please have Dom tell her about the stones, that I dreamt of them, what they mean . . . and that I’m sorry.”

  “I will.”

  “Tell Dom, too. And Ewing. I’m sorry.” The torment of the past weeks pressed down on her, and she couldn’t keep the words from coming out. “So sorry. So many people have had to pay for the things I’ve done.”

  “Ayliss.” The voice was stern, and she looked up. “Stow that away. They don’t blame you. Maybe somebody does, but not them.”

  Instead of comfort, the PA’s words called up a face that she hadn’t thought of since leaving the Delphi. Lee Selkirk, the last time she’d seen him alive. That strong, confident smile, promising he would fix things with the veterans on Quad Seven. It was the last time she’d seen him alive, and the mess he’d sought to clean up had been her fault. Ayliss let out a long, shaky breath.

  Scalpo started putting his instruments away. ”You know, the trainers are actually calling your squad a gang of flailing fuckups. But it’s a compliment.”

  “What?” She barely got the word out. He turned away for a moment, allowing her to wipe away the tears.

  “It’s true. They only have two categories for the trainees, and your squad got the good one. If you’re flailing away it means you’re trying hard.”

  “What’s the second category?”

  “Flaccid fuckups. They’re not really trying. They just kinda lay there.”

  Outside, the medic listened to the sound of the new Chief and the infamous trainee laughing.

  “I never thought I’d see this place again, much less enter it willingly.” The high-pitched whine of Dev Harlec’s voice sounded from the center of Reena’s office at Unity.

  “I’m glad you dressed for the occasion.” Reena raised her eyebrows from behind her desk. Harlec was clad in an expensive warm-up suit that hung off of his slight frame like a sack.

  “I’m always cold, these days.” The light flashed off of his thick glasses and bald head as he looked around.

  “For God’s sake, sit down. If we meant you harm, it would have happened already.”

  “But not on Broda.” Harlec eased himself into a chair. “That’s why Selkirk didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

  “He had good reason, but showed better judgment.”

  “He did have good reason. I planned to have him killed, and to turn Ayliss into such a pariah that she’d have to seek refuge on Broda with me.” The researcher laughed without making a sound. “Now he’s dead, and Ayliss is an exile in the war zone. Somehow my little scheme doesn’t sound so bad anymore.”

  “Is that the important information you brought me?”

  “No, just small talk.” The glasses shifted around some more. “I’m a bit surprised to be talking to you without Leeger. Is he listening in?”

  “No one’s listening.” Reena kept her face frozen. Leeger had disappeared shortly after their last argument, and no one had been able to locate him. “You can speak freely.”

  “All right. You might not know this, but Gerar Woomer and I were secretly in communication for years. Regardless of my status with the Mortas family.”

  Reena straightened in her chair. “I did not know that.”

  “That’s good. There’s a bit of a network out there, like-minded intellectuals trying to make sense of this ridiculous war. Gerar was part of that.”

  “Go on.”

  “Shortly after he killed himself, I received a heavily encrypted video from one of the network’s couriers. It was from Gerar, and it was a confession. Horace Corlipso offered to find Gerar’s grandson a safe place in the war, in exchange for a favor. His spokesman, that dilettante Kumar, made it clear that refusal would result in the young soldier having a nasty accident. Gerar felt he had no choice.”

  Reena’s hands gripped the chair harder, but she said nothing. In her mind, Kumar was being lowered onto a sharp spike in the middle of an enormous fire.

  “Gerar arranged for Olech to disappear during one of the legs of his trip.”

  “That’s not what happened. The capsule disappeared on the first leg.”

  “Neither one happened, actually. He went on to explain that an impossibly small but incredibly powerful Threshold opened just as Olech’s capsule was about to launch. I’ve seen the data; it’s true. Your husband was pulled into a Threshold that is beyond the capability of man to produce. Gerar believed that the entities Olech was attempting to contact snatched him.”

  Thoughts of Kumar fled, and Reena’s hands came together in her lap. A wild surge of hope pounded through her body, but she silenced it.

  “Where is this recording?”

  “I can have it delivered to you.”

  “For what? Name it.”

  “Nothing.” Harlec removed the glasses, and pressed wrinkled fingers into his eyes. When he lowered them, th
ey were damp. “Gerar was my friend, and he was a scientist. He didn’t deserve this.”

  Chapter 16

  “It’s not too late to retract your invitation.” Erica turned goggled eyes toward Jander as the mover bounced across the ground. “We can blame it on Command. We just tell Elder Paul that we wanted him along, but got countermanded.”

  “He deserves to be there. The alien revealed itself to him and his people first, and the Whisperers passed that information right to my stepmother.” He felt warmed by the sun, and the memory of Paul’s open joy at being asked to attend the first meeting with the Sims. Jander had waited until the Amelia-thing departed, headed off to wherever it was staying in the wasteland, before seeking out their host.

  “Your stepmother’s not going to be happy, when she finds out we brought a civilian along.”

  “Just building that rapport with our neighbors that you keep mentioning. Did you see his reaction when I invited him?”

  “He was really touched. This is a very big day for them, if it leads to a cease-fire. Heck, even if it doesn’t. Chatting with the youngsters last night, I could feel their excitement. They were afraid they were going to get shut out of this, once Command got involved.”

  “Another good reason to bring Elder Paul along. Command can make us shut our mouths. They can’t do that with the Whisper.”

  “You know more about politics than you let on, Jander Mortas.”

  “After what I saw on Verdur, I’m not taking any chances. There’s too much interest across the governments, the corporations, and Command. They all want to use the alien as a translator, but not for the same reason. I’m not going to let any of them twist this the wrong way.”

  “I doubt they’d be able to do that with any secrecy now. Look.”

  Erica slowed the mover as they reached the perimeter sensors. Waiting outside the main dome was the entire population of Gorman Station, all of them kneeling except for Elder Paul. He was obviously addressing the congregation, but their arrival broke the group’s concentration. Happy faces started craning their necks, and Mortas swore he saw the heavyset Nibbit give a small wave.

  Elder Paul raised both hands in a lifting motion, and the colony members all stood. Varick drove toward them, and through the windshield they watched the group converge on their leader. A long line formed as each Whisperer hugged Elder Paul, but they didn’t have to wait for it to end. Dru, Felicity, and Nibbit approached with several others, so Erica killed the engine and they dismounted.

  “Just one question,” Erica asked before the others were in earshot. “Do you realize that you’re including them, at least partly, because you’re jealous of the alien?”

  “Yes, in a way. It’s disturbing that they like her so much.”

  Felicity walked up to Mortas and embraced him, kissing his cheek and whispering, “God bless you, Jander. Good luck.”

  Nibbit was next, hugging him by the armor and then shaking his hand. “Thank you for taking Elder Paul along. We knew there might be some kind of negotiation right here, but we never expected the Force to include us.”

  “How could we not?” Mortas heard his father’s diplomatic voice in the words, and mentally winced. “You were the ones who got this whole thing going.”

  Nibbit squeezed both of his upper arms, and moved over to Varick. Dru stepped up, the sun shining in his eyes and hope lighting his face. “I know you’re a man of peace, Jander. Do your best today. End this holocaust.”

  “It’s only the first meeting. I doubt we’ll be ending anything today.”

  “Then begin something.” He was replaced by a succession of colonists Mortas didn’t know, and finally Elder Paul was there. The congregation moved back a few yards, hands raised in a form of benediction as the three emissaries climbed into the mover.

  As they drove away, Jander looked in the mirror. The Whisperers were watching them disappear, their hands still in the air.

  “I know I already said this, but it’s important you understand that this meeting is a little dangerous.” Jander sat sideways, fighting the brace while straining to look at Paul. “The Sims are going to be on edge, just like we are, and it wouldn’t be the first time a meeting like this one ended badly.”

  “That just can’t happen.” Paul was beaming. “This is an extraordinary event in human history. We’ve been fighting the Sims since our very first encounter, unable to speak with them the entire time. Who knows if this whole horrible war could have been avoided, if we’d just been able to talk? And now we’re going to have an actual discussion.”

  “That is the plan.” Erica spoke from behind the wheel. “But Lieutenant Mortas and I have a job to do here as well. We have to verify that the alien is able to communicate with the Sims. We can’t just let it lead us around by the nose.”

  “I understand, and as promised I won’t interfere. I am pleased to see that your weapons are stowed away.”

  “We wouldn’t even have brought them, but this is still an unexplored planet. The Sims insisted that we ground our drones and that the Ajax move out of range, so we can’t be completely defenseless out here.”

  “You’re not going to be carrying them when we meet? I’m very encouraged. That’s not what I expected from two combat veterans.”

  “Two rifles won’t make much difference if this goes south, Elder.” Varick laughed. “Besides, if this whole thing is a trap, they went to an awful lot of trouble just to kill a lieutenant and a captain.”

  Jander continued. “The Sims won’t be coming near us, out of fear of whatever it is about humans that kills them if they’re exposed to us for too long. So we’ve brought along two speaker systems with microphones. It’s loud, but radios or other electronic gear might tempt our translator to get cute. This way we’ll hear what the alien is saying to the Sims, as well as what they’re saying back.”

  “But you won’t understand any of it.”

  “Right now, we don’t need to. We need to know if the alien understands them.” Jander settled back into his seat. “We’ll also be recording every bit of it, so at the very least our linguists will be getting something they never had before—an exact translation of recorded Sim language. Sort of a Rosetta Stone.”

  “You know, I was pondering the way you’ve been referring to Amelia. It made me think of something quite interesting.”

  “What’s that?”

  “In the more than forty years of the war, I don’t think humans ever called the Sims aliens. I’m not sure when we came up with the ‘Sim’ name, but I do know that Command referred to Amelia as an alien right from the start. Isn’t that odd?”

  “That we recognized the Sims resembled us physically, and that the shape-shifters are something completely beyond our understanding?” Jander asked.

  “The Sims were the first intelligent life forms we encountered, but they’re very different from us. Enough so that we would have been forgiven for calling them aliens.”

  “Is that what you found interesting?”

  “No. I thought it was intriguing that we immediately acknowledged our similarity to a race that reacted to our presence with violence.”

  “I’m not sure I’m getting your point, Elder.”

  “No point, just a little advice. Don’t get so caught up in your hostility toward Amelia that you miss the opportunity to meet some creatures that may just be our relatives.”

  The lone figure materialized in the distance as they approached the place where the meeting would be held. The location was in the middle of a miles-wide expanse, free of concealing ravines. Jander watched the dark dot slowly elongate, until it took on the greenish hue of Amelia Trent’s flight suit. The alien’s head was cocked to the side, which he took as a sign that it believed it was going to run this show. Mortas glowed inwardly in expectation of the surprise he’d concocted.

  The thing was standing normally by the time they stopped and climbed out, walking toward Elder Paul with a broad smile.

  “I’m so pleased to see you, Paul. I’d
been told you wouldn’t be allowed to come along.” That was a lie, and it locked taunting eyes with Jander over Paul’s shoulder. No doubt it was hoping for a scowl, but Mortas winked at it instead.

  “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Are they here already? I mean, on the planet?”

  “They have a small scout ship in orbit.” The alien patted a Sim radio slung from its shoulder. “They just called to say their shuttle will be landing shortly.”

  “I see it.” Varick pointed skyward, where a black speck was slowly moving toward them.

  “Excellent.” The alien turned to Mortas. “We should get ready.”

  Erica and Jander walked to the back of the mover and removed two large cases. Varick lowered hers to the orange dirt and opened it, revealing a speaker with a telescoping stand, a microphone, and several cables. Jander handed the other case to the alien.

  “I’ll set it up, but I can’t carry it with my leg this way. Let’s go.”

  “I don’t mind, Jan.” The alien took the handle, but then stopped when Mortas reached into the back of the mover again. “What are you doing?”

  Mortas emerged with a covered box in his arms. “I’ll tell you as we walk.”

  The shuttle was taking shape in the sky, its stubby wings visible as it did a lazy turn. The Amelia-thing strode across the flat, but Mortas didn’t attempt to keep up. She reached a spot roughly fifty yards away from the mover, and set the case down. She’d already opened it and was extending the legs of the speaker stand when he caught up.

  “So what’s in the box?”

  “Just a few harmless, everyday items from our shelter. We’re going to give you a list once we get back to Erica and Paul, and you’re going to describe those items for the Sims. They’re going to take out each one as you ask for it.”

  “They aren’t going to like that.” Without being told how, the alien mounted the speaker on the tripod and stood it up. “They don’t like anything human.”

  “Didn’t stop ’em from taking our vehicles last time around—or did you forget that’s how we got inside their compound?”