by B. V. Larson
Ramirez shook her head. “No. We can’t have a bunch of unknown people possibly damaging vital systems.”
“I’ll direct my troops to unload their guns, but we’re not giving them up.” Straker shrugged. “Call the captain if you need to.”
“Why do you think I’m not the captain?”
“Because you’re obviously a ground-pounder, like me. This ship has a captain, and it’s not you.”
Ramirez sighed. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“That’s also been said before. Make the call.”
“I don’t need to. You can keep your weapons. But you’re vouching for your people. If anyone gets out of line, I’m holding you responsible.”
“Agreed.” He held out his hand.
Ramirez looked at it as if it were a snake. “Save your charm, Straker. Get your people moving.” She held out her hand for her carbine. When Straker passed it back, she turned on her heel and stalked onto the frigate.
Straker called for his people to file through the docking port after unloading their weapons. After Loco, Zaxby and Engels entered, he followed in last place, alert for treachery, but it didn’t materialize.
* * *
The Unmutuals were wary, but not as unfriendly as Ramirez had been. Some even laughed and joked. The line of the rescued debouched into a bay full of bunks stacked four high, barely roomy enough to cram their bodies into.
“Where are we going?” Heiser asked one open-faced young man called Karst.
“A base of ours. Everything will be explained there. Don’t worry. You’re all valuable military personnel and will be treated well. We won’t discard any of you. Now, strap in.”
The Unmutuals rustled the former prisoners into bunks and helped them pull sleep webbing in place. “Sorry, this is the best we can do right now,” said Karst as he assisted Engels. “With you people aboard, we’re carrying at triple capacity for this run, so it’s going to get cozy. The webbing is because we’ll be saving grav power where we can.”
“How long is the trip?”
“Three days in sidespace. A couple hours maneuvering after transit. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried. I’m a pilot, a damn good one, and I like to know where I’m going. What’s the captain’s name?”
“Captain Gray.”
Engels nodded, wishing she were in the cockpit rather than strapped down as cargo. “Thanks. I’d like to talk to him sometime.”
“Her. Captain Ellen Gray. She’s ironclad.” The kid moved on to help the next person.
Where did she get off calling a guy maybe twenty years old a kid? But he did seem young. He didn’t have the war-weary aspect of a veteran.
Engels closed her eyes as they flew toward the transit point, trying to process all that had happened up until now. Suddenly relieved of the oppression of prison, she felt as if her mind had become unmoored, like a ship’s boat not properly cinched down. Maybe she was just coming down from the Hok poison in her bloodstream.
All her life she’d known what to do, but with this latest disruption, everything had become loose, unpredictable. Was the venom interfering with her in a new way, or was this just the aftermath of extreme duress?
Either way, this new reality had its benefits. The comfortable boundaries had been stripped away. Without any rules or conventions to prevent it, and finally out of prison, Derek could be hers.
Why was her mind going there when they hadn’t even arrived at their destination, whatever it was? Probably because she felt a measure of safety for the first time since the battle for Corinth.
Freed of constraints, her mind and heart seemed to be running wild. She racked her brain for a reason and remembered a class long ago at Academy Station. The subject had been combat effectiveness and how to maintain it, long-term.
She’d asked why people actually needed R&R—needed, not wanted. In her teen years, after all, her energy had seemed limitless, and she’d had no concept of combat fatigue or the frictions of war and their effect on personnel.
The tidbit relevant to her thoughts now had been the ideas of biological release, reproduction, and life-affirmation. Even if combatants didn’t actually intend to have children together, their bodies didn’t know that. Post-battle, their sex drives would flare up.
That was why they were sent for R&R after every major operation. Otherwise, military personnel would tend to turn to each other for comfort. The rulebook said that might result in unsanctioned bondings, even fraternization, which might undermine discipline.
It had all made perfect sense at the time, and she realized it made sense now. After this horrible experience, her libido was driving her toward him in accordance with her previous tendencies, and his was doing the same.
That meant it was a chemical urge, meaningless animal lust. It wouldn’t last, not without more than release from shared misery as a foundation… and she found she wanted more.
That’s what she told herself anyway, to rationalize her current state of mind, because if she didn’t, she might lose control and do something she would regret. It was so much easier to get into a relationship than out of one. And she didn’t want to let that part of her life blossom without some prospect of stability and security.
When the Unmutual soldiers had finished with their passengers and had withdrawn from the crowded berthing spaces, a klaxon sounded, accompanied by an automated voice: “Sidespace warning. All personnel prepare. Sidespace warning…”
She felt a twisting, and the ship seemed to stretch. Sidespace engines required a flat space-time curve, which in practical terms mean getting well away from anything that created significant gravity—planets, moons, and stellar bodies.
Then all became smooth. The liberated humans—and one Ruxin—cheered.
They’d made their escape.
Once transitioned, sidespace travel felt no different from normal-space travel. With little else to pass the time, those who did not sleep began to talk.
“Carla,” she heard Straker say from the bunk above her. His words barely carried over the faint thrumming of the drive.
“Yeah.”
“What exactly did you know about the Unmutual rescue before it happened?”
“I had intel there would be a raid. Nothing detailed. Just that there would be an attempt, and approximately when.”
“That’s why you tried so hard to get me to confess, right? So we could be together, ready to break out?”
“Of course. I kept trying to tell you, but you weren’t hearing me. What did you think? That I wanted you to betray your bullheaded principles for no reason?”
Straker remained silent. “Not exactly. Only that maybe…”
“Maybe I’d gone soft? That I was joining them?”
“Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“You know what’s wrong with you, Derek? You believe anyone that doesn’t think exactly like you is wrong. That they’re… unrighteous.”
“If I didn’t believe I was right and righteous, why would I believe anything?”
“This isn’t about what you believe. It’s about trusting your friends, your comrades.”
“I trust you!”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
Straker released an audible sigh. “I didn’t think you were turning against us, Carla, just that maybe you were worn down beyond your ability to stand it. That wouldn’t be your fault. You can’t be blamed for that.”
“You set the bar too high for yourself, Derek. What makes you think you’re so much better than we are?”
“I am better than most people, in the talents and skills I’ve been given. I have to use them for something good.”
“Okay, how? We may not find our way back to the Hundred Worlds, and even if we do…”
Straker rolled to look over the edge of the bunk at her. “We probably shouldn’t even try to look at things the same way again. Lazarus lied a lot, but some of the things he said made me think. Such as, why didn’t our own leaders tell us
the Hok were bioteched humans, and that there were more humans on the other side?”
Engels grimaced. “I feel like they didn’t trust us. They sure didn’t trust us to have a relationship outside of work. You may not want to hear this, but I’m not so sure I want to go back, even if we can.”
“How can we not go back?” Straker said, but quietly.
She believed that she saw uncertainty in his eyes, and it heartened her. She’d been worried that he would never be swayed from the idea of returning to his life of glory as a mechsuiter.
“You’re all about duty and honor, Derek. You’ll have to decide where your duty lies, to a government that didn’t really respect us—that deceived us about the truth. Or…”
“My duty is to the people of the Hundred Worlds, not to its government.”
“I agree. So the question is, how can we best serve them? Maybe we can do more good out here, with these Unmutuals, as a thorn in the side of the enemies of the Hundred Worlds. That way we do our duty and keep our freedom too.”
Silence met her words at first. But then he spoke again thoughtfully. “I think I can accept that. I need everyone with me, though. Otherwise, I get the feeling these Unmutuals will simply plug us into their organization and use us for their own purposes.”
“We’re with you, Derek. Me and Loco, and I’m sure most of the others from the prison will stick with you, too. What’s your plan?”
Straker snorted. “Can’t call my thoughts a plan exactly. More like an intention to figure out everything that’s been going on and not let others dictate our actions. Everyone’s got an agenda, and everyone wants to use us. Well, I’m tired of being used.”
Engels smiled. “Okay. You’re the assault captain.”
Straker paused and stared. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. You’ve been doing what I say. Yet, you outrank me. In fact, you’re actually the highest-ranking officer in our group. You should take charge now.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You’re the natural commander among us, and you’re far more stubborn anyway. We’re caught in the middle of a war, and someone has to lead. Doesn’t mean you get to be a dictator, though, or that I won’t tell you when I think you’re wrong. Besides, our ranks are meaningless if we’re not going to remain part of the Hundred Worlds military.”
“We aren’t deserting, Carla. We’re on independent duty, that’s all. We should respect the chain of command.”
“Then I hereby put you in acting command. That’s an order. I’ll keep a veto if I don’t like your decisions. Happy?”
“Hmm. Yeah, that could work. Just don’t call me boss. That’s what Loco always says, and I’m glad you’re not like him. It may not always seem like it, but I’m glad you push back when you believe you’re right.”
Engels felt a weight come off her shoulders, though swapped for a measure of guilt at putting it on Straker. She was trained as an officer and leader, but she really preferred the clearly defined responsibility of commanding a ship over men on the ground. “I sure hope I’m not like Loco. He’s....” She ran out of banter. “Well, he’s not me.”
“Yeah, you’re a hell of a lot better looking, too.” Straker smiled.
Engels became suddenly aware of her compromised appearance before offering, “Thanks.” Then she berated herself again for worrying about such trivialities. She was one of the best pilots ever, and far from stupid. What did appearances matter?
But they mattered to men, so they must matter to Derek… so therefore they mattered to her, because Derek mattered to her. Damn, she thought to herself, I think I just need some sleep.
Maybe things would be all right. Too bad they had no privacy.
Something occurred to her. “Derek, don’t forget to get your antidote soon. Your skin is looking more and more scaly.” She rubbed her face. “I’m hoping mine gets back to normal soon.”
“Yours isn’t bad. In fact, the blue-green thing is kind of exotic.”
He was watching her like he meant it.
“You silver-tongued devil.”
Straker rolled out of his bunk. “I’ll go find that medic.”
Chapter 21
Unmutual territory, Bayzos system.
Three days later their sidespace journey was over with, and Straker was beginning to feel more normal. His skin mottled was distinctively more yellowy-pink instead of blue-green, but it remained slightly scaly.
They stood in a sealed hangar on the moon where the Carson’s pinnace had touched down after the frigate’s journey. Engels, Loco, and the others arrayed themselves behind Straker, who had his hand on the butt of his slugthrower.
Confronting them were a dozen Unmutuals, all with weapons ready and almost pointed at those they’d rescued.
“Give me your gun,” Major Ramirez demanded. The tough-looking woman had yet to learn good manners.
“I thought we’d settled this already,” Straker replied, controlling himself with difficulty. “Why don’t you put your own weapons in the armory?”
“We keep our weapons with us at all times,” Ramirez snapped. “We’re not some Mutuality conscript army that can’t be trusted.”
“Exactly. I’ve been a volunteer at war my whole life. You got us out of there so we could fight the Mutuality, right? So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is, some of these prisoners are probably spies, and until we’re sure who’s who, you don’t get to be armed. We accepted the situation aboard ship, but now, give it up or we’ll discard you.”
“Discard? Is that some kind of jargon?”
“It means shove you out an airlock, you ungrateful trash.”
Straker’s gaze bore into hers, unblinking. “Then I guess we both die right here and now.” His hands tightened on his weapon, readying for a fast draw. These people had no idea how quickly he could move. He could feel his friends tense beside him.
Major Ramirez’s eyes widened in astonishment. “We risked our lives to get you out of there. That means we call the shots, and you owe us. Don’t be a fool!”
Engels stepped forward to stand between the two, and lowered her voice as if speaking confidentially. “He won’t back down, you know. Cosmos knows I’ve tried to get him to see reason often enough. So if you want us to join up, maybe you’d better play along.”
“I think Lieutenant Engels has a point,” said an urbane voice from off to the side. “Stand down, Ramirez.”
Straker didn’t turn, in case it was a distraction, but kept his eyes on Ramirez.
Ramirez’s expression blanked, and she let her blaster fall to its slung position. “Of course, General.”
At that, Straker did turn to face the man who approached.
He wore a simple, elegant green uniform with starburst clusters on the collar, though no medals or fancy accouterments. High-quality spacer’s boots peeked from under his trouser cuffs, and his face showed impeccable grooming, trimmed black beard framing high cheekbones and a generous, smiling mouth.
Straker came to attention and saluted. “General, I’m Assault Captain Derek Straker, Hundred Worlds mechsuiter.”
“You were all those things, Straker… and perhaps you will be again.” The man saluted casually, and then held out his hand to shake. “General Emilio DeChang. Welcome to the moon Aynor and the Unmutual rebellion. I can see you’re a man of distinction. The first mechsuiter I’ve ever known to be captured, and certainly the first one we’ve ever run across.”
Straker clenched his teeth. Was the man impugning him, implying he’d failed? “We didn’t go down easy. They set a trap for us.”
“No offense meant.”
“And then you just happened to set up our rescue?”
“Yet you rescued yourself… to a point.” DeChang smiled. “Of course it wasn’t mere coincidence. Our spies told us about you and your comrades. High-value military, all concentrated in one place. Once the Mutuality brainwashed you into becoming one of their sheep, they intended to use you to improve their effectiveness,
perhaps even create some form of mechsuit program of their own. We decided we’d rather not let them keep you. We want you on our side. Come—and let’s do call you Captain Straker. Walk with me.”
Straker glanced at Engels and Loco. Engels nodded and Loco shrugged.
“Now, now, Captain Straker. If I wished you ill, you’d all be in shackles right now. Don’t make the mistake of thinking we’re like the Mutuality. Quite the opposite. We value the individual and hope you will choose to join us.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then you’re free to go. Please, let us walk and talk. I’d like to show you our operation.”
“My friends will come along.” Straker gestured at Loco and Engels.
“Of course. Ramirez, get the others settled.” DeChang turned and strolled, hands behind his back, toward a door.
Straker walked beside the general, and Engels and Loco followed, listening.
“So you’re the man in charge here?” Straker asked.
“We have a council of elders that sets policy, but I’m the operational commander.” DeChang led them through an adjoining hangar, this one holding three slim single-pilot attack ships like the ones that had almost killed them.
“Sweet birds,” said Engels, running her hand over the skin of the nearest.
DeChang nodded. “And you may fly one if you join us. Most of what’s here is built for speed, either to raid or to escape. In the long term we hope to force the Mutuality to change. Perhaps we’ll even overthrow it, but for now, we’re acquiring, developing, and building.”
“How big is your operation?” Straker asked.
“This moon holds about half our assets. The rest are scattered elsewhere, on asteroids or moonlets of several systems.”
“That’s a vague answer.”
“Operational security, Captain Straker. If you join us, you’ll be briefed in detail.”
“What ships do you have?” Engels asked.
“A few small, fast full-up warships like the frigate you arrived on. Some corvettes, a fair number of these attack ships. Lots of lifters, grabships and utility craft. Several fast freighters, heavily modified.”