The bishop nodded. “The Leveler leaders still heed that call. They believe the fight is not over. I agree with them, but I do not believe in the need for violence.”
My heart was still ringing with the Legion’s rallying call. Such simple words, yet even now they possessed the power to drive me forward that extra hundred yards. Or, in this case, to shake fresh ways of thinking out of my ossified and half-broken Marine brain. “That’s enough philosophy, Bishop. We need to sort this mess out and there are just seven of us Revenge Squad reinforcements. But you can still help there. Look, you want peace between HUB and Revenge Squad, right?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want the Levelers killed, but you do want them de-fanged?”
“I do.”
“I have a proposal, Bish, but first let me ask a question. You talk about Catholics and this wider Episcopal Alliance. How many of you are there?”
“From the order directly under my command, thirty-five. Of Catholics in my diocese, eight hundred. There are our friends in God with other faiths within the Episcopal Alliance in the region, I suppose.”
“How many in total?”
“Perhaps five thousand. I do not know the exact number.”
“Mader zagh, Bish! That’s nearly a reinforced brigade! Give us your manpower. We have weapons in our armory, Bish. Let us arm your monks and your… worshipers.”
“We are not at war, NJ. We are people of peace, not an army. We will not bear arms for you.”
“Numbers, Bish. I need numbers not aimed fire. Even if you don’t fight, you can make a demonstration, you can feint. Even your Apologizing Monks of St Helena looked threatening enough for me to run away and punch a few on my way out – sorry about breaking your monks, by the way. Imagine if you showed up at the head of a reinforced brigade of ninja monks. Any bad guys seeing that holy army wouldn’t stop to ask first whether you were going to fire your weapons, they would be too busy crapping themselves as they fled.”
He thought it over. He really did, but he’d been too long out the military to see the sense in my plan. “Sorry, NJ. I will not do this.” His gaze flicked over my shoulder. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. McCall. I hope you stay safe and we meet again.”
He stabbed the button on the table and the privacy shroud retracted. The faces and conversations of our fellow coffee house patrons came into sudden focus from all directions. One voice cut through all the rest, calling to us from the entrance porch.
“Hey, NJ,” Shahdi shouted.
I pretended not to notice and reapplied the shroud.
“Just one more thing,” I said. “Why ask to see me, Bishop? Why not Sel-en-Sek? Why not our commander, Silky? I don’t have God on my side and I don’t pretend to know how this world works, but I was a sergeant in the Marines for a very long time and I know when a man lies to me. You didn’t pick me because we met once. Tell me the truth.”
The Bishop of Port Zahir bowed his head. “All these years and still my pride betrays me. You humble me, NJ, and I hope you will forgive me when I tell you the truth. I know a little of all your backgrounds, but I chose you above all, Ndeki Joshua McCall, because your soul has the most urgent need of saving.”
I banged my fist on the table, spilling coffee out of our cups. The only thing needed saving around here was this frakking priest if he said one more word about my chodding soul.
My hand was about to hit the privacy stud but Shahdi’s beat me to it. Frakk, she was fast!
“Did you learn anything?” she asked eagerly.
I glared at the Bish. “Very little of any use. The Pavnix Chikune showed us is the HUB second in command, name of Xamajeeli-Lek. The bish thinks this Leaky Veck character is nice.”
“Is that all you got?”
“That’s all I got of any use.”
“Then that makes this easy. César won the day.”
She said his name with such relish there was no doubting who featured most in her rack fantasies.
Although Shahdi was too smart to say our destination, given the Bish was there, I had no doubt where we were headed next.
“When?” I asked.
“Right now. I’m your lift, Grandpops. Have you forgotten?” A sly grin slid across her young face. “It’s not far, but do you need to visit the restroom before we go?”
I rolled my eyes. “You see what I have to put up with, Bishop?”
He nodded sagely. “The young have no respect for their elders. It is a universal calamity, against which we are powerless.” He grinned. “Stay safe, NJ, and you too, Miss Mowad. I am sure we will meet again soon. God go with you. Oh, and if you see Cacco, send him my compliments.”
“Cacco?” said Shahdi. “Really?”
For the first time, the bishop looked disappointed with me. “Squadron Leader Caccamo’s call sign. Don’t you even know that?”
— CHAPTER 13 —
God go with you…
The bishop’s words unsettled me. I’d never had much to do with religion. Didn’t like the notion of a deity armed with lightning bolts or whatever they used. That sounds too much like an occupied world quarantined with automated orbital defense platforms: if you’re spotted from space doing something suspicious, death will rain down from the heavens.
Once I got into the passenger seat of the car, which Shahdi explained she had rented, I dismissed the idea. Wasn’t easy but I can purge distractions from my mind so I can concentrate on the mission. I had been improving at such basic mental disciplines over the past few months, although I was nothing like as competent as I had been when younger.
I couldn’t for example, purge my mind of the other thought that was hanging over me like a lingering gas attack. Even a grandpops like me could see that if we lived through our upcoming seaside appointment with HUB, then Shahdi’s idea of a post-action review would involve César and a few hours to enjoy each other on an undisturbed part of the beach.
If Shahdi’s fancy was taken with the bravest, smartest, most loyal and decent man – or whatever format of flesh hooked her heart – then I would be watchful, suspicious, and (at least I’m honest) an imperial pain in the butt.
But this was César. He was altogether different.
I didn’t trust him at all.
“Er… Shahdi?”
Her only response was to narrow her eyes, rev the engine and initiate what a braver passenger than me might tell her was an aggressive overtaking maneuver.
“What?”
I nearly ran from this confrontation and denied I had anything to say. I looked at her: bright, resourceful, pretty, damaged, so young and ever so naïve. She had no one to warn her about César than me. Oh, boy!
“Shahdi, how much experience do you have with – ah – other people?”
“You mean sex?”
“I do. And there’s a reason why I’m asking now.”
Shahdi looked over and shut me down with a glare powerful enough to slice a battleship in two. “I like it dangerous. And that’s my affair. End of.”
I swallowed my replies because my ghosts screamed at me to let Shahdi make her own mistakes. Not Sanaa, though. She had fled into hiding.
“I get that you’re growing up–”
“Have! Have grown up, Grandpa. You might have several centuries on me but I’m still an adult. Don’t you frakking forget it.”
“Yes… But César…”
Oh, boy. I thought I’d seen Shahdi angry before. Turned out I was wrong.
She slammed the car into a 100g deceleration that ended in a long, screaming slide into a parking bay.
“What’s wrong with César?” she said in a voice so quiet I could barely hear over the collision alert horns of passing cars. “He’s infected with the parasite. So are entire brigades of Wolves. Does that make him a freak? You’re hardly one to talk, Mister I-don’t-like-aliens who fell in love with one. How do you enjoy those little tentacles on your wife’s head? Where does she put them when you’re in bed together? Does she–?”
“Okay. Okay, point taken.” I ground my jaw. Shahdi’s words stung me, but I adored her spirit. “Shahdi Mowad, you’ve a mouth like a Marine.”
“I learned to curse on my mother’s knee,” she replied proudly.
She looked away, lost for a moment in memories of her murdered parents. They had been like me, retired Marine-colonists. I don’t doubt they had trained Shahdi in modes of speech she wasn’t taught at school.
She gave in an uncertain smile. “NJ, I’m assuming your ham-fisted warning is just your general purpose protective Grandpa speech. There isn’t something specifically about César I should know, is there?”
I took a deep breath.
Tell her, said Bahati.
She does respect you, said Sanaa. Her words carried the cold weight of loss. Only a few days earlier we had unsealed the long-buried memory of the daughter we had lost. That was still raw for me. I couldn’t imagine the pain Sanaa was going through.
I looked at Shahdi. For all that fiery attitude that shone from her clear eyes, I could see the hollowness within. She wasn’t my daughter, but in the twisted logic of my frakked-up mind, if I held my frayed protective wing over her, then it made the loss of my daughter a tiny bit more bearable, and I honestly thought Shahdi still needed someone to be looking out for her. If I was going to play the pseudo-parent that meant saying things she didn’t want to hear.
“There’s something you should know about César.”
I flinched when I saw the shock on her face, the dismay that the one thing that finally promised happiness was now threatened.
“I’m sorry, but you need to know. César isn’t just large for a Wolf, but he’s given himself away in a host of little details. He was born and trained as a Void Marine, I’m sure of it. His instincts are attuned to zero-g combat, but the only zero-g training Wolves are given is how to puke into a paper bag. As far as I know, the only Wolves raised as something else were Colonel Nhlappo’s foundlings: Romulus and Remus. I don’t know César’s story. My guess is, he’s a deserter.”
She shuddered, but spoke up bravely. “I’m trying to imagine what my parents would say if I brought a boy home and told them he was a deserter. My father would call him scum and shout and scream. My mother wouldn’t say a word, she would just shoot him dead.”
I bit my lower lip. I wondered how Shahdi would react if she ever found out that Silky was also a deserter.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said. “César has a dark secret and he holds it close. But we don’t know what it is, and we don’t know he’s a bad person. All I’m saying is be very careful, Shahdi.”
“I will.” She put a hand on my knee, her jaw grinding loudly. “Thanks, Grandpa.”
I left her to a few moments of contemplation. Then she seemed to come to a conclusion and drove off.
We had reached the outskirts of the city when she reached into a pocket. “I suppose you’ve behaved well enough to give you this,” she said chirpily, and handed over a small data chip. I knew immediately who this was from. The little data store was no bigger than my smallest fingernail. I’m sure they could make it smaller, but fingernail-sized is pushing the envelope for Marine-sized fingers. It was plenty big enough to dump the thoughts of someone’s mind. And that’s a hell of a lot of data.
This was Legion tech, developed during the war. I’d used it myself to deliver and receive reports from scouts and patrols. They didn’t have to explain what they saw; I could see the recording through their own eyes. Even if the soldier was now dead.
On Klin-Tula I had only exchanged recorded sensory data with one individual. Did you notice how I didn’t say person there? We had done it regularly when she acted as my handler on an undercover mission.
“The boss asked me to hand you this,” explained Shahdi. “It’s… Well, she told me it was an update to get you up to speed.”
I frowned. “And you think it’s something different?”
“Mother dog, NJ! She is your wife and we’re about to do something really dangerous. What do you think?”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Let’s stop this before we start talking like idiots. You think this chip contains Silky’s deep thoughts on the eve of battle, and you could be right. She has a habit of going on a bit when she gets emotional, so why don’t you save us both a lot of trouble and tell me what I need to know?”
Shahdi grinned, and then immediately flushed with embarrassment. Hell, I’d never seen her blush before.
I enjoyed the turnaround of her squirming under my gaze for the few seconds until she collected herself, even though I had no idea why she was so affected. “Silky and I went to make the acquaintance of our observers. The gang watching us from across the street were Levelers. We are sure of that. The sniper on the far bank of the canal was a pro. You should be able to identify her easily if you come across her. She wore orange-and brown patterned armor, and had hair the size of a small moon.”
“It’s a city, Shahdi. A lot of people live here and some will have big hair. Also, citizens are permitted to change their clothing.”
“Don’t be cheeky, Grandpa. The sniper’s most distinguishing feature was to be so beautiful that even Chikune admitted she was a handsome woman, and I’ve never met a human as coldly asexual as him.”
I sucked in a breath. A year ago, Chikune’s wife was pushed into drowning herself and one of his daughters was beheaded. He joined Revenge Squad so they would keep his surviving daughter in one of their safe houses. I didn’t like him, but I could understand his coolness. “Was the sniper a Leveler too?” I asked, wanting to take my mind off the topic of dead family.
“It’s easy to assume she was from HUB,” Shahdi answered, oblivious to my grim mood, “but we have no firm evidence. However, from her position and equipment, we think the sniper was watching both us and the Levelers.”
Interesting. It was a clue to what was going on but I didn’t bother to ask Shahdi for more, because I trusted her to explain if there had been anything else I needed. I trusted her blushes too. If they had anything to do with Silky’s recording then I didn’t want to know, at least not until after we had survived our introduction to Port Zahir.
Silky was an empath. I didn’t just see what she saw in her recordings, I felt what she felt. Sometimes she had feelings about me, and I found that too emotionally exhausting to cope with at the moment. If I were killed in the coming hours, at least I wouldn’t have to experience her recording.
I put the chip away safely into my chest pouch and signaled that there had been more than enough talking for one journey by crossing my arms in front of me, and trying to keep my face from looking too grim – although if you’ve got as many scars as me that’s not easy.
Thank fate for Shahdi Mowad. I knew Shahdi well enough to know she felt exactly the same as me. We completed the journey to the coast in an amiable silence.
At least, that’s how Shahdi probably imagined matters were. Inside my head it was more like mob rule. My ghosts were threatening a takeover of my mind, demanding to experience Silky’s recording.
I supposed I could understand. They could no longer see the world for themselves or feel its touch. Being dead is like that. They were hungry for sensation, even alien sensations.
But I was hungry for a respite from this mad world. So I hunkered down in a private compartment of my mind and hid until we rendezvoused with the rest of our Revenge Squad detachment.
— CHAPTER 14 —
As soon as Chikune reported that he’d disabled the crude HUB monitoring devices on the clifftop, the Revenge Squad motorized relief column (one rental car: unmarked, slow unless Shahdi was driving; one truck: slower, suspension soft over rear axle) sped along the coastal road for a mile before parking up on the grassy headland above the base, which sat in a little bay.
It was a lovely sunny day, and the balance of warm sun and cooling sea breeze, accompanied by the soothing sound of waves washing gently onto the beach, made for a perfect lunchtime combination. Indeed
, we’d seen a few other vehicles parked up by the side of the road where there were paths down to the beach.
Instead of deploying picnic blankets and coolers filled with beer, sandwiches, and spicy pies, we came bearing equipment of a more violent kind.
Though, not so much Silky and me, because we needed to travel light.
The HUB base was an old military dump set into a cliff face and expanded and hardened by the Hardit New Order during the war.
There was an opening out onto the beach, but we weren’t ready to go charging in the front door. We knew there were hidden rear exits too, though they would come with guard posts and people with guns.
But Silky thought there was another way.
During the war, the facility was destroyed. Satellite imagery showed scorched rocks had been strewn around the main opening and one shoulder of the cliffside to the bay had completely collapsed. The explosion had also cut deep fissures into the headland above the cliff.
Guess what route we were using to get inside?
When I said fissures, I didn’t mean conveniently sized tunnels or shafts, perhaps with a nice stairwell to ease the descent. The reality was that the shockwave from the wartime explosion had sought out and opened up weak points in the cliff rock to form lengthy, narrow vents.
My former masters had built me to be dropped from orbit – I may have mentioned this fact before. They did not breed me to squeeze through narrow gaps like a rat.
By the time we’d pushed ten meters below the sunshine, the gap through the cliff had darkened so that even my enhanced eyes could barely see. I switched to an infrared view, but that only told me that the rock cooled the farther it was from the sun, and I could work that out for myself.
Twenty meters down and the vent was pitch black, the rock slimier.
Another ten meters and I was trapped, snagged on a lump of rock that pressed against the small of my back, which meant my spine was arched back like a sacrificial victim. I tried to wriggle free, hoping the slime-coated rock would release me. I succeeded only in wedging myself even more firmly.
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