The Seeds of War- Omnibus Edition

by T S Hottle

  Parker looked at the tablet, scrolling through. JT watched his face and realized Parker did not know everything about his past.

  “Are you sure,” said Kray, “you want that sex fiend around your daughter?”

  When Parker looked up from the tablet, his gaze shifted from Kray to Saja and back. “Come with me. Both of you. Lizzy, in the house. JT, stay where you are. We’ll talk in a minute.”

  Kray and Saja followed Parker some distance away. Parker’s gestures became animated, and JT could hear him raise his voice though not what Parker said. Kray stood by, arms folded, as though listening to a subordinate.

  That’s what JT didn’t like about the man. Every time he saw Kray, he acted as though everyone around him were a soldier under his command. And that weird, silent woman who shadowed him only enforced the image. What was it with Kray? Was this a colonial thing? A rural constable or sheriff pining for glory out in a backwater? Or was Kray something else? And how did Mr. Parker stand being in his presence?

  The group broke up, and Parker marched in JT’s direction as the other two headed for their vehicle. His expression told JT this would not be good.

  “You’ve done good these past few weeks,” he said. “You found a niche with my farm hands. You haven’t given me much trouble after that first night. I’m letting you stay. Your own mother agreed to it, and it’s too late now to tell the Valles Mareneris that we’ve changed our minds.”

  “Thank you, sir,” was all JT could say.

  Parker grabbed him by the arm. “But you are not to be alone with my daughter. Ever. Got it?”

  Right now, JT did not want to argue with the man. Right now, he wondered if he should try to sneak off to Tian after all.

  ***

  The next morning, JT found himself in a field on the homestead’s north side with two of the more wayward tractbots. Mr. Parker wanted it tilled and ready for planting hay for the cool season. It would take him all morning to train the bots to till the field, then the rest of the day to actually till it. Quan gave him the lines the bots would need to follow, along with any obstacles they would run into. By the time JT finished, Mr. Parker would be home from the settlement, Lizzy would be doing her chores, and Mrs. Parker would have dinner going. And the possibility of Lizzy and JT being alone for any length of time would be nil, at least until Lizzy finished school and moved out.

  By late morning, he had half the field tilled, but one of the tractbots, one he dubbed “Wilma,” simply stopped. With his tablet, he pinged it several times from his perch in a tree where he sat overlooking one end of the field, but it only replied that it did not know what to do. He called up its video feed. The ground appeared to be covered with some sort of green vine. A few stalks of some kind of grain or corn or something rose from it, and big melon-like things lay nestled within the vine itself. JT climbed out of the tree and sent an order to “Herman,” the other tractbot, to take over Wilma’s section of the field when it finished its run. Then he tucked the tablet under his arm and jogged across the field and over a small rise to where Wilma had stalled.

  The vine, its stalks, and the melon things, along with big bunches of leafy clumps, covered the entire far side of the field and stretched back over a rise beneath the elevated maglev line. The maglev marked not only the border of the Parker homestead but of Harlan Township as well. Beyond the ridge and the maglev line lay Dagar Township, Constable Kray’s territory. He had no idea who owned the farm, but he had been on Amargosa long enough to know what happened when crops from one farm spilled over onto another. Quan had told stories of violence, of torched fields, of shootings. None of the constables wanted to deal with them, and it never ended well. In some cases, the colonial government and even GMO customizers would come in and confiscate property if licensed plantings were contaminated. Had Mr. Parker already planted a custom-engineered crop, the neighboring farm could find itself up for auction once the field was decontaminated.

  He pulled the smartcom off his belt and called Quan, who transferred him to Mr. Parker.

  “Sir,” he said, trying to be as deferential as possible since yesterday’s revelation of his previous escapades, “there’s some sort of vine thing all along the north end of the homestead up by the maglev line. Not sure what it is, but it seems to be growing fruits and grains out of it. And it’s moving. The tractbot acts afraid of it.”

  Parker didn’t say anything right away. It made JT wonder if the call had been dropped.

  “Mr. Parker?”

  “Bring me a sample,” said Parker. “I’m in my office at the settlement.”

  JT did not argue. Pulling a knife from his back pocket, he cut some of the vine along with one of the smaller melon things. The vine seemed to fight him and retreat from the knife, nearly sending JT sprawling as he backed away in surprise.

  ***

  Kray and Saja drove up to the Founders Mine, where a huge metal gate now stretched across the opening to the staging area. A gap remained, one that should have been filled in the previous evening. A group of men, power tools in hand, stood out front waiting. Kasumbo had emerged from the crowd holding a large drill across his chest the way one held an assault rifle.

  Saja undid the snap on her holster making her pistol readily accessible. By the time Kray was out of the bat wagon, she had the pistol at her side at the ready. Ahead, Kasumbo made no move to indicate he even noticed or cared.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Kray. “Why is the gate not finished?”

  “We need to talk,” said Kasumbo. He turned and nodded to one of the men lined up across the entrance to the mine. A small man came forward, older, his skin darkened either from years in the sun or from his native coloring. Kray could not readily tell.

  “My name is Herik,” he said. “And I got a notice today from the Mars Genetic Modification Authority. A warning about unlicensed modified plants invading a neighbor’s field.”

  “It’ll be over as soon as you harvest,” said Kray. “Which will be any day now.”

  “That’s not the problem,” said Kasumbo. “The problem is the big GMO companies have noticed. The creeper is invading farms in Harlan and Rangne Townships where our fields sit on the border. We’ve got creeper meshing with creeper between each other’s farms. You didn’t tell us this thing grew uncontrollably.”

  Neither, thought Kray, did Leitman. “It’ll be gone in soon. Then you can leave those fields fallow for a couple of seasons. Juno will pay us all handsomely for it.”

  “Money we can use to pay off fines and replace confiscated property when they come after us. Do you think they’ll actually let us stay here if this stuff ruins someone else’s crops? We’ll be lucky if we don’t get stuck with land on some desert planet somewhere.”

  Kray climbed up onto the hood of his bat wagon and stood. “Listen to me. All of you. Amargosa is about to fall. I know this. When that happens, even our neighbors will become our enemies until we can liberate the colony.”

  “And who is this enemy you keep telling us about?”

  Kray never had time to answer. His smartcom buzzed with a message from John Parker.

  Lucius, need to see you right now. You need to explain this. John.

  “Aliens,” said Kray. “Okay? The enemy is not human. They’re alien. And they want this planet.”

  ***

  The mass of creeper landed with a splat on his desk.

  “What the hell is this?” said John Parker. JT had never seen Parker so angry before, even though the constable kept his tone professional and even.

  “It’s leaking on my desk,” said Kray, looking up at Parker as though the constable had come in to complain about a jaywalker wandering down the streets of the settlement. “Where did you get this?”

  “My farm,” said Parker. He pointed at JT. “He lost an afternoon of prepping a field for winter tilling because of this.” Parker began pacing in front of Kray’s desk the way JT had seen him do to someone arrested for public drunkenness or vandalism. JT had even been one to re
ceive the pacing treatment, though not for a couple of weeks now.

  “And it’s not just my farm,” said Parker. “Every farm near the maglev line has been complaining about some invasive species making in-roads to their fields from over the township line. Those are your people, Lucius. And now the big GMO concerns are coming. Not just GenitiGroup or Helix, either. Some of the state-owned outfits are coming, ones from Mars, which means you just brought the parent government down on a bunch of farmers who don’t trust the local government, let alone the core world that makes this place happen.”

  “John,” said Kray, barely moving as he spoke, “I understand perfectly. My farmers agreed to replace their summer crop with a new plant that can produce roots, fruits, legumes, and edible leaves. It’s a fruit and a vegetable. Every part of this plant is usable. We had no idea it grew like…” He looked over at JT. “Hey, kid, what’s that stuff on Earth that grows all over everything?”

  “Kudzu? It’s extinct.”

  Kray shrugged. “True, but everyone knows the legend. Anyway, we had no idea. It’s really a grand experiment, John. It grows with little tending, other than to contain it and…”

  “Grand experiment, eh? Did you know Li Duo-Teng lost three hectares to this stuff this week? He’s spending more time burning it than running off the gosalope trying to eat his wheat. And where there’s gosalope, there’s lycanth.”

  Yikes, thought JT. If the gosalope he’d run into a while back had been stalked, JT might have also found himself face-to-face with one of the wolf-like creatures.

  “How long,” Parker continued, “before someone’s killed by a wild animal because someone didn’t have time to keep the grazing animals out of their field?”

  “John, we’ll fix this. The harvest is soon. My people will leave their creeper fields fallow for a couple of seasons, and…”

  “Oh, it’s too late for that,” said Parker. “Just before I left our settlement, I got a call from the governor’s office. They’re sending someone from OCD to investigate.”

  OCD? JT had heard of it. It stood for Office of Colonial Development, the bureaucracy that decided whether a colony could exist. In centuries past, people feared the military or law enforcement or even the taxing authorities. In the age of the Compact, people feared OCD.

  “Yes,” said Parker. “The Compact has heard about this. So if you think your farmers – and mine – hate the colonial government and think Mars should mind its own business, wait until the Compact sends people who could decide if we even exist this time next year. And another thing. I’m getting reports of the sound of weapons fire along the township line. Not random shots like hunters. One guy told me it sounded like target practice.”

  Kray spread his hands. “I don’t know what to tell you, John. I could look into it, but no one here in Dagar Township has reported anything.”

  John Parker gave Kray a hard stare. “Do me a favor. Check it out. Last thing I need is a range war because someone in your jurisdiction thinks he’s a warlord. Come on, JT. We’ve got one more errand to run.”

  As they left the office, JT could not be sure, but he swore he saw Kray shaking.

  ***

  Kray watched them go, worried that Parker had already called the governor. “Saja.”

  Saja emerged from the inner office where she undoubtedly had been listening. “Yes?”

  “Contact Chakresh. Tell him to start sending packages on the overnight runs.”

  “Did Parker notice the express runs are stopping during the day?”

  Kray got up from his desk and went to the window. The wind was blowing up dust in the settlement’s main road. “He didn’t mention it, but if he’s already plugged into Lansdorp and knows about our recruits practicing, then he has to have noticed the maglevs making unscheduled stops here.”

  He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and turned. Saja leaned against him, her normally rigid posture softened. “It’s almost over, Colonel. And I will be right by your side to the end.” She pressed against him but made no move to kiss him. “And then you can make the rules, take what you want.”

  He knew the invasion would come soon, within days even. He had told Brendie none of this. When Amargosa fell, and he was now convinced it would, Brendie’s usefulness would end. Before him stood the wife and the partner he needed, obedient and submissive to him, but strong and commanding with others.

  He gently pushed her back. “Not yet, my dear. As much as I want to, not yet.”

  ***

  The runabout bounced along Dagar Township’s main road and into the foothills to the north. The further JT drove, the more civilization disappeared. It was apparent that it had once been in this part of the Central Plains, but more and more, the evidence came in the form of abandoned barns, houses, and vehicles scattered about in overgrown fields or small clearings in the woods gone back to brush. Occasionally, they would pass a sign giving the distance in kilometers to a mine or warning of blasting. From the looks of the signs, no one had been blasting here in decades. It reminded JT of the abandoned highways that still criss-crossed Cascadia but no one had used since before JT’s ancestors originally left Earth.

  “Where are we going?” he asked Parker, who studied a map on his tablet.

  Parker pointed at a fork in the road ahead. “Bear to the right. We’re going up in the foothills to see someone. A Navy pilot who settled here about four years ago.”

  “Navy? Why would anyone from the Navy settle here, especially so far from any of the settlements?”

  That made Parker laugh. “You may not believe it, JT, but Lucius Kray was once a gentle man who had grown tired of war. He came to Amargosa to start a farm so he could live off the land and avoid the hustle and bustle of the core worlds. That’s why most of our newcomers choose to be here. It’s quiet. The grid is not as omnipresent. And right now, we’re too sparse to have to organize our lives down to the last detail.” He looked over at JT. “I can even see it’s had a good effect on you. We barely have to tell you what to do on the farm, and you do it.”

  “Even trust me with your daughter?” It was worth a shot.

  “It’s not you intentions that bother me. It’s your hormones. And hers. You’ve been lucky so far, but I can’t protect her from you the way your mother has protected you from yourself. She likes you. And she’s guessed your history somewhat. She thinks she can handle you. I’m not so sure you can handle yourself, and I’m not willing to let my daughter risk it.”

  “I mean your daughter no harm, sir.”

  “I know you don’t. But you’re both young. I was sixteen once. And I had just as much trouble saying no to women as you, especially because I wore the uniform back then.”

  “So tell me about this pilot.”

  Parker took a deep breath and pressed his lips thin while he thought about it. “She calls herself ‘Suicide.’ That’s not her real name of course. She earned that nickname because she took bigger risks than any of her fellow pilots. A few years after the Polygamy Wars, she arrived here. We thought she would settle in either Dagar or Harlan Township. Instead, she used her discharge grant to buy a battered old rover, drove up into the foothills. No one knows where. She only gets on the grid when she comes into the settlements to buy something.”

  “And why are we going to see her?” asked JT.

  “Because nothing happens in the foothills or Dagar Township that Suicide doesn’t know about. If she’ll talk to me, she can… What’s this?”

  Up ahead, two bat wagons blocked the road, armed men and women standing in front of the roadblock. JT brought the runabout to a stop.

  One of the soldiers, his body armor looking somewhat primitive in comparison to the Marines and any planetary guard JT had seen, marched up to the window. “I’m sorry, but this area is off-limits to civilians.”

  Parker leaned forward so the soldier could see him. He held up his palm, which now displayed his constable’s badge. “At ease, son. He’s with me. We’re on official business.”

>   “I’m sorry, Constable,” said the soldier, “but under the Emergency Preparedness Act, even civilian law enforcement is not permitted beyond this point.”

  “There is no such statute, soldier. And that gear is neither Martian nor Compact issue.”

  “I have my orders, sir. I suggest you take it up with the Colonel.”

  Parker made a circling motion with his hand. “Let’s go, JT. We’ll find another way.”

  JT turned around and headed back the way they came. In the runabout’s rearview mirror, he could see the soldiers watching their departure with their weapons trained on him and Parker. “Who is ‘the Colonel’?”

  “I don’t know,” said Parker, “but I have a pretty good idea.”

  ***

  “OCD has confirmed it,” said Governor Croix over the video link. “Gilead has gone completely silent. We can’t even get a hyperprobe to return from there.”

  Kray stood facing the display with a coffee mug in hand. Beyond the display and out of the governor’s view, an electronic whiteboard outlined the progress being made on recruiting the militia, training those already in, and converting the Founders Mine to an underground fortress. He tried not to smile, particularly since Gilead brought home just how isolated they would be when the invasion came. “Do we know what happened?”

  Croix pressed his lips thin. The man looked as though he had not slept in days. Dark circles ringed his eyes. “The Metisians know nothing at this point, but they assume someone has seized the planet. Any reconnaissance they send doesn’t return. The Navy is debating sending a Wilson-class ship to investigate.”

  And yet you, Governor, don’t believe me when I say it could happen to Amargosa, thought Kray. “What’s that mean for us, sir?”

  “Your farmers will need to make new deals for their crops. We’ll work with you if you need it, but chances are, your sudden surplus will go toward feeding places like Jefivah and her new colonies. Since Gilead was relatively new, most of the impact will be limited Metis and her older colonies. I’m sorry, but it’s a rare time when Jefivah’s in a strong position. The prices are going to be horrible.”