Rebirth (Rebel Wars Book 2)

by Michael Andrews

  Chapter 2

  President Tate had changed out of his white suit, feeling the crimson suit of the Rebellion was far more appropriate in these trying times. His knees had given him more trouble than he cared to admit to, leaning on a hand-made, polished wood cane. The light in his eyes had darkened, the weight of what had happened in the past months showing on his aging face. The lines of age were more visible now than when he’d first started his campaign against the Corporation, but so much had happened. Alex, Alice, and now open war. He hadn’t been on board with Alice’s plan, but he had allowed it to go off. The Demon’s death had opened up channels of communication he thought long buried, contacts he hadn’t spoken to in years had reached out to him. It hadn’t been obvious that humanity was willing to engage in open conflict, but the proof was there now that someone else had lit the powder keg.

  That was human nature after-all, never a short supply of followers. Leaders were a rare thing, plenty of people wanted to take the reins until they realized what it required of them. Sacrifice and blame were the main components, a leader who was selfless enough to realize that with the power of making decisions came the weight of doing so. Robert Tate had allowed Alice to blow the lid off their insurrection and wage open war against the Corporation. Even still, they’d lost thousands of souls to the Corporation after the war had started, and every life lost was on Robert’s shoulders. His avenging angel had done good work, leading strikes to liberate colonies and defeat Officers where they kid, the only problem with that was in the reality. Every liberated colony had to be defended, and they were losing only slightly less than half of them every time they liberated a colony. They needed more ships, and the Forge was producing them as fast as possible, but for every ship they needed a crew. The Paladin order was stretched thin between recruiters and trainers, and Rebellion officers were in as much a short supply as they were. They had plenty of willing recruits, but not as many able.

  Project had suggested the creation of command A.I.’s to replace what personnel they were unable to provide, yet that didn’t seem to Robert as a viable plan of action. Project had done good work, but Robert was also one of the few aware that he had inspired the coup against Alice and had cost them more than anyone but him could fathom. Getting Hero and Milly out of the fight was a mistake, and it would take a lot to get them to rejoin if they could at all. Hero had given his resignation, but he was a solid fighter and still so young in his career. Robert was glad that there were still a few men who could take a potentially fatal wound and remain in the service, but how long could they continue on the limited veterans they had? Milly hadn’t given up on her service, but she was never one meant to ever hit a battle ground. In the safety of a ship she would be the most effective, but bullets were never meant to be anywhere near her.

  Robert leaned on the staff he’d requested as he made his way through the metal halls of the Tower, the last vestige of Humanity’s power and intellect. They were winning the war in some ways, and losing in others. That was what made every decision so vital, a misstep could cost them everything and a genius move only advanced them ever-so-slightly. He stared absently over the commerce section, so many people were moving about and living their lives. He wondered just how many were living in fear, terrified of the reaction they would get. Corporation diplomats had come to the Tower since the war broke out, and it was beyond obvious that Corporation folk were not trained well in the art of diplomacy. Robert didn’t even give them much time to talk, he laid out some heavy handed desires that would get the Rebellion to cease. He was testing them, and they failed miserably. Instead of considering his offers and countering him, they had sputtered in anger and threw as many threats out as they could. President Tate was an honorable man, at least he considered himself thus, and had let them live. The opportunity to execute them and commandeer their small vessels for himself had been ripe for the taking, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he sent them on their way and told them they should study up on diplomacy before trying again.

  That meeting would probably be one of his top five favorite diplomatic attempts. The first being an attempt from pirates some thirty years early, only the pirates had been far more persuasive in their colorful language and threats. Then again, Robert had blown them to pieces in response, so maybe they weren’t quite as good as he gave them credit for. President Tate made his way to the elevator, taking it down to the commerce level. His advisors had insisted he take security with him everywhere he went, but he just couldn’t be bothered. The last time he had security go with him to a private matter he had instructed them very carefully not to talk about what they had seen. That didn’t stop him from bugging them, and that didn’t stop them from talking, and the end result was far messier than he wanted. He knew that his advisors weren’t wrong, it would be fairly easy to smuggle a traitor in their midst and gun him down while he went about his business. He just hadn’t found enough people he could trust with his plans, or schemes as some might call them. He was fighting a war, and war was not a beautiful thing. It was an ugly, hateful, plague-infested leper that spread its disease as far and wide as it could. The fewer of his own people he had to dispatch, the better.

  The simulated sunshine was beautiful today, it seemed to remind him of when he was back on Earth, before the Corporation took it over. Even in the most distraught and damaged of former warzones, the sun shined down with its unending joy and light. He tried his best to replicate the Earth’s weather and shine here on his levels, unlike the bottom level of the Forge. That wasn’t his to control and Master Tillman insisted that the constantly rotating ecosystem was the best way to keep everything running smoothly. The jungles and forests he’d created there needed the variation to continue harmony and growth. Robert reasoned that he felt the same way with his public levels that he needed to maintain some form of rigid natural order. The sun went up and it went down, thus a day started and ended. That was important to him, to exercise some form of static reliability. President Tate smiled and greeted every civilian who saw him, echoing their smiles perfectly. The darkness in his eyes smoothed over, the mark of practice charm. When you smiled against how you felt, but could do so in an artful manner, you could erase all doubt that everything was ok. Everything wasn’t ok, but the only way it ever would be ok is to pretend that it was until it was a fact.

  “Greetings President!” A rather fat man said, reaching out to grab his hand. Robert smiled and shook his hand, his mind racing as he struggled to recall the face. There had been over a million aboard the Tower before, and that number had nearly doubled in the past two months. It wasn’t expected of him to know everyone, but something about this man made him hesitant to admit not knowing who he was. The man wore a dark black suit, the symbol of a cross etched throughout the material, but Robert didn’t imagine the man a priest or religious icon. The handshake lasted just a little too long, and Robert released his hand.

  “I’m sorry. Stress has become the norm over calm as of late. I find myself in my old age unable to recall your name.” Robert admitted.

  “Of course, we’ve only met once before President. I arrived after the war broke out. I’m Charles Lent, I own the Quartermaster over there.” He thumbed off behind him.

  “Oh right, you set-up the clothing shop! I’m embarrassed!” He laughed and pulled the collar on his suit. “Right good work you do, my friend. I remember now, you sent me five of these suits as a token of thanks. I can’t believe I forgot your name.”

  “That’s quite alright. You’ve got more on your mind than clothes and fat shop keepers.” Charles said, his face flushing slightly red. The man was average height, and filled the black suit to the limits of the fabric. A wide-brimmed hat protected his face from the sun, providing a small shadow over his eyes. Something bothered President Tate about the man’s appearance, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “Everyone is important, Charles. Don’t forget that. Anyways, I have an appointment to keep. I hope you have a pleasant day
.” Robert said.

  “Of course, but can I please bother you for a moment longer. It seems there’s a bit of an issue I need to talk to you about.” Charles said.

  “I have several administrative assistants, and while I’d love to take your issue personally I’m afraid I simply don’t have the time.”

  “Of course you’re a busy man.” Charles said, moving closer to Robert and putting his lips to the older man’s ears. “But it’s about your daughter.”

  The noise of the crowd no longer could be heard in Robert’s ears, and the sun’s heat didn’t stop the hairs on his arms from standing up. Robert hadn’t talked about his daughter to anyone, and even those that he considered personal friends didn’t bring her up. She had defected with the Corporation some eight years ago and had been presumed dead. This man barely knew Robert, as far as he could remember, and was speaking of her? Robert was prepared to negotiate and talk war with a hostile foreign invader, and yet this subject made him start to shake with emotion. Robert shoved Charles back with more force than he’d intended, clenching his cane in his right hand. The crowd gave a momentary look of confusion, why was their President assaulting a man in broad daylight?

  Charles was quite sturdy and only moved back a couple of steps. He looked up at Robert with the look of a man who’d been delivering bad news his entire life. He offered him a gentle if not mocking smile and brushed himself off.

  “Listen, President Tate, perhaps we could take this discussion elsewhere? I told you, it’s of utmost importance that I talk to you.” Charles said. As he was speaking, four men in crimson suits seemed to materialize from the aether, heavy handed weapons shaped like pistols in their hands. Beams of red light painted Charles’s black suit, his palms showing to the sky when he realized he was being targeted. Tate waved them off, impressed with their response time, but not feeling their guns were going to be able to fix this problem. He was still processing the implications. Was this a veiled threat? Was this a problem he could even solve? What was he going to do about his rogue daughter? He had stricken her from every record on him and had done his very best to bury any information on her existence, he had done that far before she’d thought to raise insurrection against his Rebellion.

  “You had better be ready for an in-depth discussion. I have things to take care of, as I said. You can meet me in my office for after dinner-time.” A cold stare followed Robert’s words, daring Charles to protest against his terms. The man dropped his hands and grinned, an unsettling thing. He nodded and bowed, if Robert wasn’t a gentleman he might have taken it for mockery.

  “Oh of course Mr. President. I appreciate your time.” He turned and made his way to his shop, the rest of the crowd did their best to hide their stares and mumbles. Rumors spread fast in a confined area like the Tower, and before long there would be plenty of talk as to why the President had lost his temper and shoved a local businessman. In fact Robert was certain that would be the exact headline for one of the more critical blastrags that disliked him. Most respected him, but there were still a few that believed someone shouldn’t call themselves President without a proper vote. He let them talk, there was nothing a proper President could or should do to silence those who fancied themselves the “voices” of the people. There were many times were dictators did such a thing in Earth’s history, and rarely did they keep their dynasty long. In the late 21st Century there was a war almost entirely fought through the use of deception and financially manipulated media, creating false movements and dividing the people. It was horrific if not brilliant, but Tate was one of the men who had learned from that mistake and was content with letting the people fight it out with their words all they wished.

  “I apologize folks, seems in my old age my hearing has suffered and I could have sworn he’d said something rude. As you can see here he didn’t, and I extended him an invitation to my office for drinks and some of the finest sweets available in the Tower.” He smiled, the authenticity of the smile swayed most of the onlookers and gave him a moment’s breadth as he passed through the crowd. Two of the guards shadowed him and the other two were seemingly swallowed up by thin air. Curious, that. Robert decided it didn’t supersede the importance of the other things on his mind, so he let it go for the moment.

  He remembered that Charles had been quite odd when he’d approved his move to the station, but there was so much going on could he really be blamed for letting someone potentially dangerous through the cracks? His team was made up of the best he could muster, but running background checks and approving everyone was difficult. The massive immigration to the station was closed off earlier this week by providing additional colony construction near the Tower. The people felt safer close to the seat of power for the Rebellion, but the Tower’s resources were beginning to wane and the Forge was already taxed. Energy wasn’t much of a problem anymore like it was in Earth’s history, but the premise of infinite energy was still not achieved. They had to cut down, so Robert ordered the construction of additional colonies around the Tower to create a secure hub for the Rebellion. So many ships had entered the vicinity of the Tower, they had to be ordered to be spaced out as well. The astrometric pressure such a large fleet was exhibiting combined with the gravity of the nearby planets was beginning to have consequences. They had chosen this part of space for the Tower because it had been relatively empty with few inhabitable planets, but the recent outbreak of war had created more need for construction. Within the next ten years Robert imagined the entire seat of humanity would be in this region of space, so far away from Earth.

  He had continued walking and nearly passed the café he had been aiming for. To appease a few of the people still watching him, he ordered a box of sweet treats that he made a show of paying for. He smiled and flashed the goods before grabbing a coffee he’d ordered and making his way towards the patron he’d come to talk with. She had a cup of sweet, caffeinated sludge before her. Robert didn’t question it, old habits die hard even if she couldn’t drink it. Her dark hood covered her form and if one looked closely they could tell that she wasn’t even sitting in the chair below her, it was all a show. They both knew that the chair would never support her weight in her current form.

  “You can’t go anywhere without a scene, can you President Tate?” The lack of tone in Alice’s voice was misleading to Robert and he wondered if he was imagining meaning where there was none. He was certain she was chastising him.

  “The perks of being the most important man on the Tower.” He said, flashing a grin to her covered face.

  “You’re certainly getting attention. I’m surprised you never told me about your daughter.” Alice said. Robert’s hand could have crushed the cup to dust within it to dust and soaked the cuts he’d endure in hot, black liquid. He was glad he had regained control over himself, but this verbal punch to the groin almost upended his calm.

  “Hmm. I can’t believe they gave you such unbelievable hearing.”

  “I could also detect your heart-rate spiking. I zoned in on you when you arrived off the elevator. I didn’t want to ease-drop, but I was concerned for your safety. You’re not an easy man to spook.” She said.

  “Yeah well, I need you not to say out loud anything about…that again. I can explain later if you must know, but that has to be kept a secret for a reason. You can appreciate that, can you not?” Robert said.

  “I don’t care to know the truth. I don’t really care that you were upset, only I’m not ready to watch the Rebellion implode because you couldn’t handle something. If you’ll remember I made a request, and that request was for a reason.” Alice placed one metal finger on the glass table and tapped it with as little pressure as she could manage while still producing a sound. Robert took a drink of his coffee, sugary and bold. She was of course referring to their conversation after the execution of the Demon. She had requested him to remove himself from his seat of power, and that was not something he could do.

  “Not on the table, Alice. We have more important things to
discuss, don’t we?” He said, dismissing the request as he did before.

  “True. The Library. I’ve decoded much from its files in my sleepless state. There’s something interesting I found I wish to investigate. You read the file?”

  “Of course. And I love it. I love the initiative you’ve taken. Have you gotten bored with sending a few Corporation Officers and their human slaves to hell every other week? You’ve got the most impressive kill-record I’ve ever seen. You’ve also managed to go through a large portion of our military’s operational budget in funding these temporary answers to Corporation occupation. Let me tell you Alice, I love the idea of going to yet another fringe world and engaging Corporation soldiers to free potential allies from their grasp. But you do understand that humanity and aliens have never really met before right? A few space vermin and various bacterial agents, but we’ve never met with another sentient race except the Corporation of course, and you see how that is going? Is it really time to try an “enemy of my enemy is my friend” diplomacy on another unknown?” Robert said, pausing to take a drink every so often.

  “How is it that I am more inquisitive now than anyone else? Every single person I’ve talked to about this discovery is either not interested or pessimistic about the results. I’ve even been laughed at for talking of the things I’ve found in the Library, and according to Master Tillman I don’t even have a functioning imagination. You folk do, and yet…you want some sort of obvious evidence that what I’m considering will work. What happened to faith, Robert?”

  The irony was not lost on the President. He was being lectured on imagination, faith, and other abstract human notions by someone that was less than human and more machine. He sighed, and considered it. The intel was interesting and gave a lot of information that made him believe it was a viable plan. The Corporation wasn’t known for their book-keeping, so for such detailed records to exist meant it was important. Human planets had dropped quickly to the Corporation advance, and so had the other species they had encountered save for this one planet. Alice was talking about a planet on the outer rim of chartered space, a section of space humanity had only stepped foot in before the Corporation had arrived. The planet was dubbed a long and complicated number for its name, but the Corporations referred to it as Cydrak. The evolution of their language was close to humanity’s arsenal of verbal communication, but where this word had come from or what it meant was still a mystery.