Breach of Faith

by Daniel Gibbs

  "Just like that." Li shook his head. "The… individualism in this galactic arm never ceases to disgust me. You're all a bunch of animals, hurting and killing each other for baubles."

  Li spoke the word “individualism” like the foulest word in the English language. Henry wanted to keep him talking, so he asked, "What's wrong with being an individual?"

  "You might as well ask me what's wrong with murder," Li said. "That's what individualism is."

  Henry, despite everything, found this comment interesting. Then again, all of my previous experience with the League was either fighting them or bribing them. "Just because I see myself as an individual doesn't mean I want to murder people."

  "Doesn't it?" Li asked. "That's the truth about being 'an individual.' An individual is insignificant. Nothing more but a pile of urges and drives to be satiated while the reason, if it exists, cowers in terror at the inevitably of death. The individual is a hollow shell desperate to find something to fill the vacuum within."

  Li spoke the words with barely restrained fury. Henry wondered where the anger came from. Before he could reply, Li continued as if only his words mattered. "Some of you ignore that hollow feeling. You embrace material wants and desires in your desperation to fill in the void. You became little more than voracious beasts, gorging yourselves until your appetites cannot be satiated, then the hollowness returns. And you go on, demanding more and more, to ignore the truth of your own insignificance."

  Henry didn't say anything. For one thing, the longer Li spoke, the more time he had to figure out something, so why interrupt? For the other, he knew then he was in the presence of a True Believer 1st Class, someone to whom the League's ideology was set into the very marrow of his bones, such that he resented the refusal of the universe to bow before the blindingly-obvious truth he felt burning within him.

  "And some of you instead turn to superstitions from millennia ago," Li continued, harshness in his voice. "What was once used by the unadvanced humanity of the old ages to explain the things their feeble science couldn't, you use to fill the void within, convincing yourself in the truth of those superstitions. You look to religion to give your meager lives direction. Purpose. Anything to fill the shell."

  A retort formed and came from Henry's throat before he could stop himself. "You resent the competition, huh?" Li's nostrils flared at that, and for a moment, Henry thought he'd pull the trigger out of sheer anger.

  Bad move, Jim. Never provoke fanatics.

  After considering lunging for the gun, Henry decided to continue the safer course of biding time. "I'll take that back. Thing is, I'm not religious myself anymore, but I know plenty of people who still are that're good people."

  Li laughed. "That's what the superstitious always say. They're good people, they love other beings. It's all lies, of course. The history of religion is ignorance, torture, and mass murder. It's a blight on humanity."

  "You think you're better, even with all of the torture and murder the League's pulled?" Henry asked. He felt offended, if just for the sake of Jules and Vidia and men like Reverend Gill, the head of his family's church in Tylerville.

  "We are," Li hissed. "Religion's a lie, and you know this deep down. You know your superstition for what it is. So the hollowness continues to gnaw and demand material pleasures to satisfy your urges. After all, look at yourself." When Henry glared, Li shook his head. "You were religious once, as you've said, and your record confirms. Then you were cast out. You could have taken up the cause of the workers and poor of your Coalition. You could have worked to make their lives better. Instead, all you thought about was your own happiness. Now look at you. Just another spacer fighting for scraps in the neutral worlds, bribing and smuggling and killing to earn a few measly credits. No greater cause, no higher purpose, nothing but your individual needs."

  Henry couldn't keep the angry look from his face. His lips curled into a snarl. "You don't know shit about me, Leaguer."

  "I know all I need to," Li said, his voice confident. He spoke with the tone of a man finally giving vent to pent-up feelings. "You're no better than the other individualist filth out here in this barbaric arm of the Galaxy. It sickens me to see human beings live as you do."

  "Right," Henry scoffed. "In fact, I'm willing to bet your hands have way more blood on them than mine."

  "I fight for a true cause!" Li retorted angrily. If there'd been a driver in the front seat, the ferocity of the shout might have startled them into a crash. "I fight for something better than petty individualist desires! I fight for Society!"

  "And that’s supposed to be noble?"

  Li nodded. "It is! We of the Society have found the only way to overcome the deficiencies of the individual. We fill the hollowness with Social awareness. Instead of being an insignificant speck in an uncaring universe, a person becomes a part of a greater whole. Their need for fulfillment comes from finding their place in Society and working, always working, to make it a better place. Instead of needing satisfaction for their base instincts, they find it in bonding with others. The weakness of the individual is swept away by the strength and unity of Society. And while death will still come for them, they can face the end of existence content in the knowledge that Society continues."

  Henry swallowed. Not at the gun now quaking in the hand of a zealot, but at the sheer feverish force behind Li's diatribe. There was no room for doubt in it. He was a man who'd found his faith, a faith blinding in its purity. He believed in the League and its society with a devotion that matched, yet contrasted, the gentle warmth of Jules Rothbard's.

  As aggravating as Jules' faith could be, it was tempered by kindness and compassion for other beings. Jules believed in a God of love and acted in that respect. Li's faith wasn't in a god or spirit but in an idea, the idea of humanity—indeed, of all sapient life—bound to an all-encompassing unity that stripped it of all individual thought and belief. Stripped not just of their individuality, but of hope, compassion, and love, anything that might distract from the soul-consuming devotion the machine demanded.

  This was the difference between them. Jules wanted a galaxy where everyone lived in peace and brotherhood, and none went hungry because of the love in their hearts. Li wanted a galaxy where everyone lived in peace and brotherhood because they were molded and hammered into those places by a system devoid of love. A galaxy of beings reduced to cogs in a machine, with pain and death for any who dared question their place in that machine.

  Henry's thoughts were interrupted by Li, shaking with his anger now being spent. "That's the truth that we came to the Sagittarius Arm to bring, Captain. When we’re done, none of your superstitious madness or self-centered prattle about 'freedom' will matter. Even if it takes us decades, centuries, of war, nothing will stop us from bringing you all into the glory of Society."

  Henry whistled and shook his head, the reply surprising Li. "You're about the most arrogant man I think I've ever met."

  "And you are the most foolish," Li said. "Now…" There was a tone from within his uniform jacket. He pulled out a commlink and spoke into it. "I am busy, what… ah, excellent." He grinned widely. "Excellent. Bring her to the embassy security offices. We will get the voice sample needed during her interrogation. And begin launch preparations for my ship."

  "A pleasure trip?" Henry asked.

  "Oh, Social duty as always for me, Captain," Li replied. "My people have Miri Gaon in custody." A wide smile formed on his face. "If anything, this should demonstrate the futility of your actions. Despite everything, the League has prevailed. As it always will."

  The Leaguers brought Miri to the cargo elevator leading to the kitchen and receiving area for the hotel. Before boarding, they frisked her for weapons, for anything she could use, and found nothing despite the intensity of the search. The frisking ended right as the elevator doors slid open. She was forced inside. The neutral look on her face was a trained one, and her guards weren't fooled. She was calculating her chances of escaping. "Don't even think about it," the
Australian-accented one hissed at her. "We'll break you if you try."

  She didn't reply.

  Her chances weren't good. Once off the elevator, they'd be even worse. Here, the close quarters could work to her advantage even against trained foes. On the other hand, her wrists were bound behind her back, severely limiting her tactical options.

  However poor her chances, she'd not have a better opportunity. She had to act now.

  The car was seconds away from passing the third floor when she acted. She dropped low and stuck her foot out in a sweeping kick, not an easy thing without her arms able to help balance the move, applying enough force to bruise her right shin and knock the two guards behind her to the floor. The guards in front turned to react. With her body still crouched from the sweeping kick, Miri lowered her head and pointed it toward the Australian-speaker, who was standing beside the controls. She lunged forward by jumping off with her legs. Her head registered pain from the impact, but the agonized cry from the head Leaguer from her skull slamming between his legs said she'd inflicted more damage than she'd caused herself.

  In the span of a few seconds, she'd given herself a brief window with one-on-one odds. That left the last guard still standing and her gun already rising to point at Miri. She literally had a second to react. With a grunt, she lowered her shoulder and charged.

  The gun went off a moment after Miri's shoulder slammed into the gun-holding arm. The blast was not a powerful one, as the Leaguers had their weapons set to non-lethal levels, but it still sufficed to fry the control panel. The elevator's safety systems kicked in and stopped them at the nearest floor, the second.

  The doors slid open.

  Miri hadn't planned this. She hadn't dared to. But she wasn't going to miss her good fortune. She darted out of the elevator and into the second floor's service area.

  Rows of open cabinets showed white sheets and towels stacked for delivering to rooms while the distant sound of a large washer continued its churning. She kept running while behind her the Leaguers took off in pursuit. Her heart pounded, and her mind raced. She didn't know this hotel at all, and there were few details from the upper floor to tell her of where to find what. Her options were quite limited, and she looked everywhere, brain churning to locate more.

  Her first lucky break was a cleaning cart for the service personnel. She turned long enough to kick it in the direction of her pursuers. The kick was off slightly, causing the cart to wobble along before the top-weight of its supplies led to it toppling over onto its side. By then, Miri had already turned around and continued running, so she didn't see this worked in her favor, tripping up the closest Leaguer and forcing the others to slow to go around her and the mess.

  When Miri found the door to the general area of the floor, it slid open on its own, presumably set that way for the convenience of the staff. The tiled floor gave way to the lush carpeting from before. Her footfalls were effectively dampened by this, but at the same time, so were those of her pursuers.

  Her options were still too limited. She wanted to get her hands free, but the tie strap was expertly applied. She needed a sharp object and quite a bit of time, or wire-cutters. Getting out of the hotel would also be a problem. With Vitorino working for the League, his security people would be hunting for her as well. The longer she stayed on the property, the more certain her re-capture.

  Desperation immediately suggested an option: get to the nearest window and try to jump out. From the second floor, she could roll with the landing and maybe escape without harming herself too severely. But I will have to hit the window at full speed to break through. I'm going to get cut up. They could follow my blood trail.

  Miri turned a corner in the interior hall and spotted just such a window, one of the few not in a room. It looked to be her only shot, so she started to run and spied the open door of one of the suites.

  There was no telling why it was open. If it was one of Vitorino's security people making a standard sweep, she’d be in trouble. If it was just one of the cleaning crew working, however, she might get a few precious minutes.

  She gambled. Whispering a prayer under her breath for it to work out, Miri nearly plunged into the room. As soon as she cleared the door, she used her foot to shut it, hoping her pursuers were far back enough they hadn't seen her enter. She took in a breath and moved further into the suite.

  It was a smaller one than Vitorino's, with just a couple of bedrooms off of the main room and attached kitchen efficiency. Miri spotted a cleaning cart at the entrance to one of the bedrooms and went for the kitchen. Now that her heart wasn't pounding quite so loudly in her ears, she heard the vacuum cleaner whirring away, coming from the same area. That prompted a breathed thanks to HaShem on her way to the kitchen.

  Once there, Miri slid open one of the drawers beside the sink. She twisted her head and looked down, moving as quickly as she could to check the contents. At the sight of various cooking utensils with nothing sharp in their number, Miri sighed and slid the drawer closed. She went over to the next and found standard silverware.

  The vacuum cleaner stopped. Her heart skipped even as her fingers found purchase on the drawer under the silverware drawer. At the sound of the cleaner resuming, she sighed in relief and pulled the drawer open. She twisted and looked down.

  This time, she was in luck. A small, neat pile of steak knives were in an organizer tray.

  Miri reached in and picked one of the knives up in her hands before pushing the drawer closed with her hip. Immediately, she ducked low, ensuring that the cleaning staff in the bedroom couldn't see her if they came out. She twisted the knife in her hands and moved it until she felt the tension of the blade, pushing against resistance between her wrists. With the sharp edge against the cord, she started cutting.

  So far, so good. She didn’t dare to do more than breathe silent thanks to HaShem at help she'd long considered herself undeserving of. Crouched and hoping to evade notice from the cleaning staff still present, Miri focused herself on cutting her wrists free. Come on, come on.

  4

  Outside of the taxi he was being held hostage in, Henry watched the sights of Gamavilla pass by. The helicab was taking him and his captor toward the spaceport. Henry imagined Li had a plan involving more than himself. "My crew's not going to surrender for me," he said. "They'll fight."

  "They won't have the chance," Li said. "And you'll get to see—"

  Before he could finish, Li's commlink started trilling. While he kept his gun firmly pointed at Henry with his left hand, he pulled the commlink out with his right. "Report." His face twisted in fury. "I do not care for excuses," he hissed. "Find her. Find her, or I will personally have you denounced as an anti-Social saboteur, do you understand? I want that—"

  There’ll never be a better time. Without a second of hesitation, Henry lunged for the gun.

  For all that Li's eyes were on him, his focus had been diverted by his fury at the caller. It cost him a vital second before his finger squeezed the trigger. The pulse blast didn't hit Henry's chest as it would have otherwise. It barely seared his shoulder, in fact, before slamming into the side of the interior, where it set fire to the upholstered surface.

  Li dropped the commlink, snarling and struggling to bring his gun back over as Henry forced it further away. His right arm came up, and his elbow slammed into Henry's face along the left side of his face, right at the jaw.

  The impact hurt and nearly stunned Henry, but he had both hands on Li's gun-hand and continued pressing him against the side of the taxi. He ignored the second blow from the elbow and only growled in frustration before Li's free hand went for his throat.

  Henry's body protested the sudden constriction of his airway. He fought the instinctive urge to pull his hands back to protect his throat, since that would free the gun, and he would die. Instead, he pressed himself further against the intelligence agent, bringing Li's left hand over enough that he started to smack it against the side of the taxi. When that failed after the third blow, he tw
isted to plant his knee onto Li's thigh and used the leverage to begin twisting his wrist.

  With a savage look in his eyes, Li's head shot forward. Henry watched his mouth open and felt the pain as the Leaguer's teeth bit into Henry's left wrist. He let out a choked cry at the sensation as the teeth broke through his skin. Blood welled up around Li's lips as pain weakened the grip in Henry's left hand. While his right hand kept its grip, he wasn't able to apply the pressure to twist further, and Li kept his death grip on his pistol.

  With his lungs screaming for air and stars in his vision from the reduced oxygen, Henry desperately swapped tactics. He drew his left hand back and reached for his holster, which was on his right hip. Having to draw across his body cost him time.

  Time which allowed Li to recognize what he was doing. Faced with Henry bringing his pistol into the fight, Li released his grip on Henry's throat. His right hand went for Henry's left wrist just as he started bringing his Danfield-Colt up.

  Henry tried and failed to force his hand further over so he could get a shot. Li was doing the same with his left hand, but he couldn't quite budge it, given Henry's grip with his right.

  This left their struggle in a stalemate. Neither could get their weapon to bear on the other. It would come down to which of them tired first.

  Or would have, rather, if another vehicle hadn't crashed into the taxi first.

  The impact spun the vehicle around and briefly sent Henry flying into Li. Their foreheads collided. The collision robbed Henry of coherent thought for a moment as his head reeled. He was thrown back to his side of the taxi not by Li, but by the taxi's safety systems forcing the vehicle back onto the road.

  Through it all, he still had a grip on his gun. He swung it up toward Li's head just in time for the other man’s pistol to swing up toward his temple. They might have shot each other dead if the taxi hadn’t lurched again, this time struck from the side. Their arms flailed, disrupting the aim of both men.