Revolt on Alpha 2 (Nick Walker, United Federation Marshal Book 8)

by John Bowers

“Sounds like a plan, Walker. We’ll start on the houses west of the battery and clear the block west of that. You guys can sit tight, or finish clearing your block.”

  “We’ll stay put at least until you cross the road. After that, we’ll see.”

  Nick and Rudy returned to Cpl. Mateo and updated him. The four of them watched through the windows as Golf Company, moving in leapfrog fashion, crossed the road and entered the houses opposite. After five or six minutes, without a shot fired, several men of Golf approached the exposed artillery guns and began to inspect them. Other men continued clearing houses along the street.

  “Looks like they don’t need us,” Mateo said. “We need to finish clearing this street.”

  Nick nodded, feeling a measure of relief. Maybe the Freaks had pulled out, or maybe they had formed pockets of resistance, as suggested by the sporadic firing a few blocks away. Either way, the north end of the village was mostly clear…or would be as soon as they finished their task.

  “Okay, then, let’s go.”

  Chapter 6

  Shortly after two in the afternoon, an armored command sled—an HVC (Hover Vehicle, Command)—lifted off from Firebase Oscar and headed west toward Minkler. On board were a pilot and gunner, both Fed Infantry. The third man was a Star Marine officer named Lt. Danby. Danby was not a combat Marine; the insignia on his collar was the Christian cross.

  The sled streaked across the countryside at eighty knots, just ten feet above the ground. Flying so low was dangerous, but if the rebels were using radar, the clutter from trees and buildings would help mask its passage. In addition, the pilot swerved and banked every few seconds to make his craft a more difficult target. The trip to Minkler took roughly twelve minutes. The sled drew no enemy fire.

  When the sled set down at the edge of the village, Danby saw an enemy gun position with a number of dead rebels scattered about. Several Star Marines were standing nearby looking happy and flushed, like a solarball team after a victorious game. Danby hopped over the side and approached the first officer he saw. The man was a captain, and Danby, not accustomed to working in the field, saluted.

  “Don’t do that,” the captain told him. “Might still be some Freaks around. They see you salute me, that makes me a target.”

  Embarrassed, Danby dropped his salute.

  “Sorry, sir. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

  The captain grinned at him. He had a pleasant face and, apparently, a sense of humor.

  “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “Are you Captain Seals?”

  “I am.”

  “Then you’re the man I’m looking for. I need to borrow one of your men.”

  Seals’ good humor seemed to fade. His eyes narrowed and he turned to give Danby his full attention.

  “What do you need him for?”

  “A message came in for him about an hour ago; it’s bad news from home.”

  “Life and death news?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Seals nodded, his expression shifting to one of concern.

  “How long will you need him?”

  “Well, Captain, I don’t need him, but—”

  “Right. What I mean is, how long will he be gone?”

  “I would say that depends on how he reacts to the news. The rest of today, certainly, and maybe tomorrow. I can’t say with certainty.”

  “And you’re taking him where?”

  “Firebase Oscar. That’s where the comm center is located.”

  Seals nodded. “All right. Take him for as long as he needs, but keep me updated.”

  “Aye-aye, sir. I will.”

  “Who are we talking about?”

  Firebase Oscar – Camarrel, Alpha Centauri 2

  Thirty-seven minutes later, after a harrowing, whirlwind ride in the command sled, Nick Walker sat down at the same comm terminal he had used before with a cold sense of dread running through his blood. Danby hadn’t told him why he was being summoned, but he didn’t need a star map to figure it out. The same Master Sergeant was standing nearby.

  “We reconnected the call as soon as you landed,” he told Nick. “I also killed the timer, so you have as much time as you need.”

  Nick donned the VR headset and once again, his sister was on the line. It was obvious that Gloria had been crying.

  When she saw him on her display, she wiped her nose with a tissue and bit her lip. She blinked rapidly to fight her tears and tried to speak, but nothing came out. Nick rescued her.

  “What is it, Sis? Dad?”

  She nodded. “He’s gone, Nick. Late last night. I would have called you sooner, but…”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t here anyway. I’ve been out on an operation.”

  “He didn’t suffer,” she said. “At least, that’s what the doctor says. It’s a good thing you didn’t try to come home. You would have never made it in time.”

  “I’m sorry, Sis. If I was still on Terra, I would have been there.”

  “I know.”

  “How’s Mom? Is someone with her?”

  “I’m with her. She’s…holding up. That’s the best I can say.”

  “Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I love her. I wanted to be there.”

  “She knows that. Don’t worry about her, Nick. I’ll take care of her. But she worries about you.”

  “Tell her I’m fine. The people we’re fighting are just farmers, not soldiers. I don’t think we’ll be here more than a few weeks.”

  “I’ll tell her. Did you get my video?”

  “Not yet. Like I said, we’ve been out in the field. I think it’s here somewhere, I just haven’t seen it yet. When’s the funeral?”

  “Day after tomorrow. The church is holding a benefit to honor Daddy, and the service will follow that.”

  “Okay. Can you order some flowers in my name? I’ll send you the money.”

  “I already did. Don’t worry about the money, just come home safe. I love you, Nick. We all love you.”

  He nodded. The timer in the bottom corner wasn’t moving, but he had run out of things to say.

  “I gotta go, Sis. My unit is still out there.”

  “I understand. Tenga cuidado.”

  He nodded. “Igualmente. Bye.”

  He disconnected the call and the Federation logo replaced his sister’s face. He stared at it for a moment, his heart frozen, then removed the headset and stood up.

  When he turned to leave, the Master Sergeant was right in his face.

  “You need to see the chaplain, Private.”

  Nick stared at him, minimally annoyed.

  “I’m fine, Master Sergeant. But thanks.”

  “It’s not a suggestion, Walker. It’s protocol.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know what that call was about. Your father just died, and I’m sorry as hell, but when something like this happens, it’s mandatory that you meet with the chaplain.”

  Nick frowned. “Are you serious?”

  “Do I look like I’m joking? I can bring your company commander in, if you don’t believe me.”

  Ten minutes later, against his wishes, Nick was seated in a small room in the chapel bunker facing the chaplain. Lt. Danby, who looked to be about twenty-five, had a smooth, beardless face, sincere eyes, and a caring bedside manner. He gazed at Nick with compassion, unaffected by Nick’s body language, which suggested resistance to the interview.

  “Private Walker, how are you doing?”

  “I’m okay, I guess.”

  “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Do you want to request compassionate leave?”

  “No, sir. It would take me four or five days to get home, and the funeral is scheduled for Friday. I would never make it.”

  “Still, you might want to spend time with your family?” Danby phrased it as a question.

  Nick shook his head. “I came here to do a job, Lieutenant. I need
to finish it.”

  “I understand.”

  “Sir…is this really necessary? I left my platoon in the middle of an op. I need to get back.”

  “I’m sorry, Private. I understand what you’re saying, but in cases like this, the interview is mandatory, and the earlier the better.”

  “But I’m fine.”

  “I’m sure you believe that, and I hope it’s true. But the purpose of this interview is two-fold: first, to make sure you don’t have any lingering psychological issues, and second, to ensure your combat effectiveness. An event like this can sideline you for several months, so we have to deal with it now.”

  Nick nodded. The last thing he needed right now was to be sent to the bench. His best defense against falling apart was keeping busy.

  “Okay. Fire away.”

  “What was your father’s name?”

  “Joseph Walker. Reverend Joseph Walker.”

  “Your dad was a minister?”

  “Yes, sir. Protestant, non-denominational.”

  “I see. How old was he?”

  “Sixty-eight.”

  “Sixty-eight. And you’re what—” Danby consulted a data pad. “—twenty? He must have married late.”

  “Yes, sir, he was forty-five. My mother was only thirty. I was born three years later.”

  “How was your relationship with him?”

  “Pretty good most of the time. It got a little stormy the last few years.”

  “Stormy? In what way?”

  “We disagreed about a lot of things. He didn’t want me to join the Star Marines, for example.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “Something about the Sixth Commandment, I think. He saw what was happening on Alpha 2 and was afraid I would be deployed here. Turned out, he was right.”

  “Did he have any specific concerns about Alpha 2, or just war in general?”

  “He didn’t want me getting into combat of any kind, but he was concerned about the Freaks—I mean, the Coalition—because they’re Christians…of a sort.”

  “What about you? You were obviously raised in church. The idea of fighting other Christians didn’t bother you?”

  “Well, sir…” Nick rubbed his face, which felt numb. He couldn’t believe he was talking about this. “…as far as I can tell, for Christians, they aren’t very Christ-like. It’s not like they’re defending their homes or anything—they started this war.”

  “That’s true, but they still worship the same God that we do.”

  “Maybe so, but I don’t remember Jesus sending people out to invade someone else’s territory.”

  “Joshua did. God told Joshua not only to invade the land of Canaan, but also to exterminate the inhabitants.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Would you say your dad was sympathetic to the rebels?”

  “No, sir. I think he knew they need to be stopped, he just didn’t want me doing it.”

  “Now that your father has passed, how do you think that will affect your performance?”

  Nick shook his head and frowned. “Why would it affect my performance?”

  “Is it possible that, the next time you face the enemy, you might hesitate to defend yourself? Because of your father’s concerns, and the fact that you ignored them? Maybe you feel guilty now that he’s gone?”

  Nick stared at him with narrowed eyes, trying to sort it out. I do feel guilty, but not for that reason.

  “No, sir, absolutely not. I’ve been trained very well and my primary mission is to protect the men fighting with me. I won’t hesitate.”

  “You seem awfully certain. Maybe after it sinks in?”

  “No, sir. I’ve always been mission-oriented, and this won’t change that.”

  Lt. Danby nodded. For the first time in the interview, he wrote something on a pad in front of him. Then he leaned back in his chair.

  “You said your relationship with your dad got stormy the past few years. You mentioned a dispute over joining the Star Marines. Was there anything else you argued about?”

  Nick started to shake his head, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to lie to a chaplain. He chewed his lip instead.

  “Do I have to answer that?”

  “Only if you want to return to duty.”

  Fuck!

  “I quit going to church when I was fifteen.”

  “Really? Why was that?”

  “I started having…doubts.”

  “Doubts? About what?”

  “About religion. God. The Bible.”

  Nick watched him closely, expecting a change in demeanor. But Danby’s expression remained concerned, sympathetic.

  “Tell me about those doubts.”

  Nick rubbed his face again and blew air through pursed lips.

  “My dad was a Protestant. My mother is a Catholic—”

  Danby’s eyebrows shot up.

  “That is certainly unusual. What did that make you?”

  “Confused. I also have a sister, Gloria, two years younger than me. I never heard my parents argue over religion, but they did have a conflict over how to raise us. They settled it by making an agreement—I would be raised Protestant, Gloria Catholic. It was the only way they could compromise.”

  Danby’s head tilted to the side, like a curious dog.

  “Did either of your parents ever attend the other’s church?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. My sister and I did, on occasion, but not my parents”

  “How awkward was that? Your dad is a minister but his own wife doesn’t even attend his church?”

  “Yes, sir, it was awkward. But his church was successful in spite of that.”

  Danby tapped a pencil on the table before him.

  “Inter-faith marriages can face serious problems, but your parents seem to have worked it out. They must have loved each other very much.”

  “They did. They had their faults, but they provided a good home. We had stability.”

  “Until you rebelled?”

  “I didn’t exactly rebel…”

  “Tell me about that.”

  Five Years Earlier

  Friday, 31 May, 0430 (CC)

  Chowchilla, CentCal – North America - Terra

  Tall palm trees lined Robertson Blvd, Chowchilla’s principal thoroughfare, on both sides of the street. Centuries earlier, Chowchilla had been little more than a California cow town, famous for its annual Stampede, a school bus kidnapping, and little else. When the original State of California, which many considered too big and diverse to govern itself efficiently, was subdivided into six separate states, Chowchilla had been chosen as capital of the Central Valley; the region had been renamed CentCal and the new capital had tripled in population almost overnight. Today it was a thriving metropolis of nearly a million souls.

  Standing on the corner of Tenth and Robertson, fifteen year-old Nick Walker gazed up at the State Capitol across the street. The building covered an entire block, a typically massive government structure with the obligatory dome that looked exactly like every other state capitol in North America. Tourists found it interesting, but Nick had seen it every day of his life and, to his eyes, it was nothing remarkable.

  He gazed down the street in both directions. His dad was supposed to pick him up, but he was late. He glanced at his watch and scowled in frustration. Hover and surface cars whizzed past, pedestrians mobbed the intersection waiting for the signal to cross. Nick leaned his back against a light pole and waited, annoyed beyond belief. Then, when he had just about given up, his dad’s hovercar swooped down and settled onto a loading zone next to the curb. With a huff of exasperation, Nick climbed into the car and strapped himself in.

  “Sorry I’m late,” his dad said. “Had a deacon’s meeting that ran long.”

  Nick shrugged and gazed out the window.

  “Whatever.”

  The hovercar lifted off and headed for their home six miles south of town. As soon as the traffic lightened a little, the Rev. Joseph Walker glanced at his
son with a concerned expression.

  “Everything okay, Nick?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure? You seem preoccupied.”

  Nick puffed his cheeks and stared out the window. They had crossed Highway 152 and were now out of the city; the terrain gave way to almond orchards and grape vineyards—this was farming country.

  “We need to talk, Dad.”

  “Okay. What’s on your mind?”

  Nick was silent for a long moment, still staring outside.

  “When we get home,” he said finally. “I don’t want to talk about it in the car.”

  Joe Walker nodded and left it there. Three minutes later he settled the car down on the parking pad behind their sprawling, split-level country home. Nick was out of the car before the turbines stopped winding down, carrying his school satchel as he entered the kitchen. His mother was right in the middle of cooking dinner; she glanced up from her cutting board and smiled at him.

  “Hola, m’ijo. ¿Tienes hambre?”

  “Starving,” he replied, and continued on through the house to his room. He dropped the satchel on his bed and stood there a moment, consumed with dread. He kicked himself for telling his dad they needed to talk—they did need to talk, but Nick wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. He’d been putting it off for several weeks already, but it was something he had to do.

  He also knew it was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

  He heard a tap on his door.

  “Nick? Did you want to talk now, or after dinner?”

  Nick drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, then opened the door.

  “Now,” he said. “Let’s get it over with.”

  “You want to talk here, or in my office?”

  “Your office. I don’t want to be interrupted.”

  Joe Walker, with a nod of concern, led the way down the hallway to his private study. Nick followed him inside and closed the door. They both took seats facing each other. His dad leaned back and crossed his legs. He tried on a smile.

  “So what’s the big emergency?”

  Nick’s heart raced. His face felt numb. He licked his lips to moisten them.

  “Nick? Something is wrong. What is it?”

  Nick took another deep breath and let it out. His fingers were tingling.