by B. V. Larson
His jaw clenched and he broke out in a sweat when he saw what had been displayed on the screens. Calling up the factory’s closed circuit vid, he watched as two of the new officers, Engels and Paloco, entered and later exited the room, talking earnestly. Unfortunately, he had no audio.
The comp activity and vids spoke plainly. Had these people planted a bomb and killed four hundred civilians, and wanted to confirm it?
After thinking hard for some time, he reached for his comlink.
Chapter 25
Freiheit.
Straker stayed busy tinkering with his mechsuit during Freiheit’s sidespace journey, using fresh spares to bring it up to full specs and improve what he could. He also ran live drills with Loco and the rest of the ground task force, forging teamwork and the ability to react instantly to a variety of threats.
Engels tried to get him to eat dinner with her a couple of times, but he was far too busy with important things to waste time on socializing, even with her. He felt bad about it, but this was a matter of survival… and, he realized, Colonel Jackson’s suicide had hit him hard. Maybe what he’d done was an echo of Straker’s own feelings. The old man had been left with nothing to live for, so he’d simply checked out.
That temptation, that feeling of having the rug pulled from under him, never really went away. He didn’t belong in the Hundred Worlds anymore, he hated the Mutuality, and he didn’t feel at home here with the Unmutuals either.
He fended off the feeling by working, and by exercising his troops relentlessly.
He got a lot of pushback. Now that they were safe in sidespace, the grunts wanted to slack off and party. Worse, some were taking liberties with the locals, he heard, pressuring or paying them for companionship.
Fortunately, there were few recreational drugs aboard, but there was liquor to be found, or made. Too many Unmutual fighters swaggered around like petty dictators, demanding whatever they wanted and brawling over the few diversions available.
Locals courageous enough to report problems were brought to him for personal interviews. The whiners he dispensed with quickly, those whose lawns had been trampled or who found the communal swimming pools too crowded with off-duty troops. Others he tried to help, those whose homes had been invaded or possessions “requisitioned.”
The worst he saw, though, were youngsters who trembled, bruised and battered, telling stories of squads cornering them and degrading them with everything from drunken harassment to serious physical abuse.
The problem was, he could never make a positive identification of the culprits. These civilians had no experience with crime or social unrest. They’d never experienced any major disruption in their peaceful lives. Even after recruiting the intimidating presence of Heiser to work with him and Loco, the incidents only worsened.
Straker faced off with Major Ramirez in the office she’d commandeered and told her what he knew, hoping she would support a cleanup of the situation. She stared flatly at him across her desk. “I understand your concerns, Captain Straker, but boys will be boys and girls will be girls. They’re hardened fighters, not programmed Mutuality toy soldiers. They’re just blowing off steam. I even hear your buddy Loco has picked up one of these rock-rats for a girlfriend.”
“Major, Loco doesn’t abuse women, but some of your troops do. This isn’t an R&R port of call, accustomed to waves of military. There are no dive bars, no strip clubs, no red light districts, no whores or casinos or VR arcades to absorb their energies and take their money. These people have been isolated for decades. They have close-knit families. They’ve worked here for generations. There aren’t enough single people old enough to accommodate all our troops who are looking for, um, casual encounters. I know for a fact that locals of both sexes have been raped, some underage. I need your help to put a stop to it. It’s wrong. Besides, bad discipline brings more bad discipline.”
Ramirez waved as if shooing flies. “All right, all right. I’ll handle it. Dismissed.”
But nothing changed for the next couple of days, and Straker was forced to conclude Ramirez wasn’t serious about “handling” things.
“Come on,” he told Heiser and Loco that evening. “Let’s go to a party.”
“A party, sir?” Banden Heiser wrinkled his broad forehead. Part of the core team since the escape from the Mutualist prison, he found it a challenge to relax—his heart always on duty.
“That’s what I said. I got some intel.”
“You’re not really the party type, boss,” said Loco, eyeing him. “What’s this really about?”
“Some bad shit we need to put a stop to,” Straker replied.
Heiser cracked the knuckles of his huge hands. “Sounds fun. We’ll watch your back, sir.”
When the three men reached the warehouse where the tip told him the get-together would be, they saw forty or fifty Unmutuals, mostly men, but some hard-looking women as well, plus a smattering of unsavory locals. All were armed, as usual.
They were drinking something they scooped out of a barrel. Straker watched Loco grab a cup and help himself, shoving among the others, who greeted him like a comrade, laughing.
“Raw alcohol flavored with fruit and herbs,” Loco said when he returned, sipping at the stuff. “Cheap and potent.”
“You sure it’s ethanol? Might be poisonous methanol or something,” said Heiser.
Loco raised his eyebrows, and then tipped the contents of the cup onto the floor. “There’s more than one kind of alcohol?”
Heiser rolled his eyes. “Mechsuiters. Hanging out on Shangri-La, getting the best of everything. Some of us had to scrounge for our hooch. The bad stuff will make you go blind.”
“I don’t think they care,” said Straker, looking around the building’s Spartan interior. Cheap chairs and tables had been set up, and at one end, a stage had been built, as if for a show.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed everywhere but the stage, and a roar went up from the crowd. Four girls and a boy were shoved onto the stage, all between the ages of about fourteen and twenty. Slow, grinding music started from a player, and one of the girls began to dance and strip.
Obviously she’d done this before, though she displayed no enthusiasm, only resignation. The other four tried to imitate the first one, encouraged by yells and catcalls from the audience.
“Disgusting,” said Straker.
“Oh, that one’s not so bad, for a beginner,” said Loco.
“You think they’re volunteers? Take a look at them. They’re scared shitless.”
“Oh,” said Loco. “Oh.”
Heiser said, “Yeah, they’re being forced to do this. What do you think, Lieutenant? You believe five teenagers from this hick place suddenly decided to become strippers? I’ve seen that look before.”
Loco shrugged uncomfortably. Both men turned to Straker.
“Well, what’re we gonna do about it, sir?” said Heiser.
“We break it up.”
Loco said, “Uh, boss, I know this isn’t the best situation, but it really isn’t all that bad. I mean, it’s not like they’re being sold into prostitution or anything.”
Just then, an announcer with a portable microphone spoke up.
“All right, now that the merchandise is naked, let’s get on with the auction!” He grabbed the first girl, the one that seemed more experienced. “You all know Rita. Some of you’ve had Rita! And you can have her again tonight! Let’s start the bidding at fifty credits! Do I hear sixty?”
“You were saying, Loco?” Straker asked.
“Seventy!”
“Shit,” said Loco.
“One hundred, I’m bid!”
“Sir, I’m with you, but we’re heavily outnumbered,” said Heiser.
“One-twenty, one-thirty, do I hear one-forty? Going once, twice… sold, for one hundred forty credits to Fourth Squad, First Platoon, Alpha Company!” said the announcer.
“Dammit, those are my men!” Straker shoved his way to the stage, Loco and Heiser behind him. Rebels
gave way when they saw who it was, or perhaps it was the look on his face that backed them off.
“Bring her here,” he said to the announcer.
“Hey, we paid for her!” said a man at Straker’s elbow. “Oh… hey, sir. Look, guys! It’s Captain Straker! You can have the first turn if you want, sir.”
Straker ignored the speaker and stepped up onto the stage, taking the girl by the arm and gently pulling her to him. “Your name is Rita?”
“Y-yes sir.”
“Do you want to do this?”
“Want to?”
“Are you doing this of your own free will?”
“Me? My free will? They… I… they keep me in a cage all day and sell me every night. They sex me until I bleed. I can’t…” Suddenly, hope blossomed in her eyes, and she clung to him. “Please, sir, buy me. Just you. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll make you feel good. Just don’t make me do it with so many again. They hurt me so bad.”
A towering rage flared in Straker. He pointed his slugthrower at the ceiling and fired off a burst, and then waved it out over the crowd. “Listen up!” he roared. “I’m Captain Straker, second in command of this shitty operation. All of you get the hell out of here before I start shooting people!”
Some dispersed, but a hard knot of Unmutuals pushed forward, their weapons dangerously close to being aimed at Straker and his men.
“You can’t do this,” they said, angry. One, more ominously, yelled from the back, “You ain’t got your fancy suit no more, refugee!” Similar comments followed.
Straker handed his slugthrower to Loco and stepped forward, toward the troublemakers, surprising them with his boldness. Quicker than the eye could follow, he smashed two in the face with a Hok-skinned fist, then two more, and then kicked the next two in their bellies. Within seconds a pack of them writhed on the floor. Loco and Heiser covered everyone else with lasers.
“I don’t need my mechsuit to deal with scum like you,” Straker bellowed, kicking the nearest man in the ass. “Leave your weapons and get out, and I might forget about this. Stay, and you’re in the brig! Go on! Go!”
They ran.
Thirty seconds later, the three men found themselves alone in the warehouse, except for the music player and five young locals. The girls started wailing, all but Rita, who picked up a fallen pistol.
“Gimme that, darling. You’ll hurt somebody,” said Heiser, prying the weapon from her hand. She threw herself at him and refused to let go.
“Looks like you got yourself a girlfriend,” Loco said.
Heiser patted her awkwardly. “I ain’t… I can’t…”
“Loco’s right,” said Straker. “You take care of her for now. Take her to her family if she wants to go. Otherwise, keep her in your quarters. That way the others will leave her alone.”
“What about the rest?” said Loco.
“Take charge of them, Lieutenant Paloco,” said Straker. “You’re an officer. Act like one. Step up and be responsible for once.”
“That’s harsh.”
“I’m not kidding, Loco. Figure it out and get it done. I’m going to go see Ramirez and put a stop to this once and for all.” Straker retrieved his slugthrower, swapped out a full magazine, and then strode out of the warehouse.
* * *
Ramirez only opened her door, pistol in hand, after Straker had banged on it for thirty seconds solid. “What the fuck do you want?”
Straker pushed his way in and shut the door. “I just came from a slave auction. Kids as young as thirteen or fourteen were being sold to be gang-raped. It wasn’t the first time, either.”
“I take it you handled the situation?”
“Of course.”
“Then you did your job. Bravo.” Ramirez set her weapon on a table and poured whiskey from a real, labeled bottle, a Hundred Worlds brand. She must have commandeered it from the locals. “Drink?”
“No, I don’t want a drink. I want you to give me your word you’ll rein your people in. They don’t listen to me unless I’m right there. I’m a newcomer. I had to bust heads tonight because they wouldn’t recognize my authority, but they’ll recognize yours.”
Ramirez tossed off her drink. “I’m not their nanny, and neither are you. This is the first operation they’ve been told not to plunder what they captured and they’re doing pretty well. Actually, they’re more restrained than usual. I have several of the worst offenders in the brig already. Who cares if they party with a few locals? Stick to your mechsuit, Captain. Leave the discipline to me.”
A knot of rage kindled inside Straker. Seized by an impulse he’d never before contemplated, he locked the door and turned to the woman appointed as his commanding officer, one for whom he’d suddenly lost all respect. Slowly, deliberately, he set his slugthrower on the table.
With maximum speed, he took two swift strides and seized Ramirez by the neck, preventing her from speaking and lifting her from her chair to pin her against the wall. She kicked at him, but he held her feet off the ground depriving her of leverage.
Straker growled, barely able to speak. “This is how it feels for a civilian teenager who’s never known crime or war or anything but a peaceable society to encounter one of these scumbags you’re defending. No one to help you or stop the rape, and if you did report it, half the people you know would blame you for letting yourself be polluted.”
“Put… me… down…” she choked out as he lessened the pressure slightly.
“No. Not until you feel some of the terror you’re making excuses for.”
She didn’t crack. “I’ll throw you in the brig for this. You’re DeChang’s fair-haired boy right now, but you won’t be after he gets my report.”
“Then I’ll have to kill you and toss your body out into sidespace. ‘Discard’ you, isn’t that what you call it?” His face unchanging, he tightened his hold again.
Ramirez began to panic, squirming and scratching futilely at his iron grip. Straker let her feet touch the floor and shifted his fingers, now grasping her hair behind her head and jabbing his index finger toward her face. “That’s what I’m talking about, Major, what you’re feeling right now. That’s the ugliness I refuse to sweep under the rug. Got it?”
Ramirez nodded, eyes wild.
“You have two choices. You either use your authority to clean up this festering sewer, or I’ll do it for you. If I do, that terror you’re feeling right now will be the least of your worries. I may not be able to give the locals justice, but I will damn sure put a stop to these crimes. I don’t have a brig, but I bet I can find a backhoe to bury you and anyone else that gets in my way. And remember, Loco and I have the only two mechsuits here.”
“All right,” she growled. “All right! I’ll take care of it!”
Straker let her go, and she put her hands on her hips, snarling at him. He grudgingly admired her for that. Nobody’d ever accused her of lacking a spine.
The fear had faded from her eyes. “You just made an enemy, Straker.”
“Not my intention,” he said, shrugging, “but if that’s what it takes to get some military discipline into this outfit, fair enough. Oh, and if you have any thoughts of me having a little ‘accident’ before we get back, I’ll be spreading a few data entries around in the networks, set to send themselves to DeChang if I don’t log in from time to time, not to mention a complete report of your troops’ crimes.”
“They’re your troops too, Straker.”
“But I can prove I did all I could to correct the situation. Can you?”
Ramirez licked her lips. “I should have discarded you when I had the chance. I knew you’d be a pain in my ass when I met you at the airlock.”
He picked up his slugthrower. “When I give my word, Major, I keep it. I’m promising you now: if you do the right thing here, I won’t speak to DeChang about it.”
“If asked,” she said thoughtfully, “you’ll say I took care of it as soon as I noticed the problem? And no mention of this little… incident between us?”
“I’ll be as discreet as you are about it.” Straker slung his slugthrower, picked up her sidearm from the table, dropped the magazine, and then cleared and field-stripped it, tossing the pieces into separate corners. “Have a nice day, Major. Tomorrow morning I expect to hear howls of indignation from the troublemakers. By the time we transit in, I want punishment, apologies, and restitution from those convicted of crimes. And there better be quite a few.”
“You’ve made your point. Dismissed, Captain.”
Fists clenched, Straker turned his back to her and stomped out.
* * *
He slept sealed in his mechsuit from then on, all externals locked. During the daytime he remained on guard, keeping Heiser around to watch his back at all times. It wasn’t long before he heard reports of Major Ramirez taking steps to remedy the situation.
Karst, the smooth-faced kid who’d first helped them after the rescue, accosted him in the mess hall they’d set up. “Sir, may I speak with you?”
“Of course, Corporal. Sit down.” Straker nodded at Heiser, who gave the young man space to take a seat across the table. “What’s on your mind? You look worried.”
“It’s this crackdown, sir. We’re suddenly prohibited from social contact with the locals. Official business only. But I’ve got…”
Straker sipped from his mug of cheap caff. “Go on.”
“Sir, there’s this girl.”
Straker closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “All consensual? No pressure?”
Karst’s mouth worked. “No, no sir, no way. She’s just… I mean, we’re…”
“In love?”
“Yes, sir!”
Straker rubbed his neck. “Look, kid, I don’t want to burst your bubble, but think. Is it likely this is real love, or could it be hero-worship and your dashing uniform? These people, they’re very parochial. Small-town mentality. It may not last.”
“But sir… we’re in love!”
Straker stared at Karst for a long moment and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s the irresistible force. Look, what do you want me to do about it?”