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Captain Cosette

Page 11

by R. Bruce Sundrud


  “Sing no more, you’ve done your best,

  “Fold your wings and take your rest.

  “Morning comes, once more you’ll fly,

  “Up in the clouds in the sunlit sky.”

  After her song ended, Cosette continued cradling the head of the dead woman in her arms, not knowing what to do next. Major Dyson knelt beside her and touched her shoulder. She looked up into his eyes, his kind eyes. “You need to take the key from her pocket,” he whispered.

  Cosette carefully lifted the burnt edge of Alena’s hip pocket, removed the cylindrical key, and put it into her own pocket. Dyson slid his arms under Alena and lifted her up. “Well done, Captain Cosette,” he said quietly. He carried Alena’s body out into the sunrise.

  Chapter Ten

  Cosette followed Dyson into the sunlight. She carried the key, so she would have to stay close to him until the bracelet was removed from his wrist. Rasora walked beside her.

  The man in charge of the Alliance soldiers spoke as they stepped from the cruiser. “Major Dyson, you shouldn’t have to deal with that. Private Riling, take that body from him.”

  “Treat her with respect,” said Dyson. Private Riling, a short dark man with heavy eyelids and a patched uniform, received Alena’s body and carried her to the back of a truck.

  “Yes, sir,” said the man in charge, “if you insist. She was an enemy soldier, but we’ll have a proper burial for her.” He extended his hand to Dyson. “My name’s Cogshank. You don’t know me but I served under you once during the Hephestus war.”

  “Sergeant. Pleased to meet you again.”

  “You recognized when I chirped at you from the bushes! I saw you pick it up.” He waved his arm at the soldiers around him. “Sir, you’re looking at what’s left of the Alliance on Aquataine. I’d heard they were going to do a prisoner exchange, but by the burning gates, how did you wind up landing here? What happened?”

  “Some Union battleships crashed the exchange and fired on both cruisers. It was a setup. They destroyed the Alliance cruiser, but Cosette here managed to evade their missiles and get us down.”

  Cosette squinted in the bright morning sun. She was on a new world for the first time in her life; the air was tangy and the sunlight more golden. The broken shrubs around her smelled like paint.

  They were in the hands of the Alliance, and she was a Union soldier. They had already killed Alena.

  Will they kill me next?

  Sergeant Cogshank looked different than any man she had ever met. His dark face looked like he couldn’t grow a beard if he wanted to; his cheeks were round and his chin narrow. Curly black hair covered his ears, like Major Dyson’s brown hair.

  Maybe that’s an Alliance hairstyle.

  She looked at the woman who had shot Alena. Her hair was shoulder-length also, but she was tall and pale.

  Cosette realized that Major Dyson was speaking to her. “What?”

  “I said, let’s get our duffel bags from the cruiser. We’re going to their graveyard to bury Alena.”

  “Right now?”

  “We don’t have time for funerals and coffins, miss,” said Cogshank. “Wartime, you know. Private Riling, help this girl get her duffel.”

  “I can carry it,” said Cosette. She went back into the wrecked cruiser and pulled the duffel bags out.

  Spinner is probably still back in the engine room, but there’s no reason to let these Alliance soldiers know he’s on board. I guess Major Dyson didn’t notice him when I was restarting the core.

  She carried her own bag even though it was the heaviest because of the gold. No reason to make someone curious about its weight.

  Lieutenant Garale was herded onto the back of the truck at gunpoint, and then Cosette and the rest of the survivors climbed on. Sergeant Cogshank also got into the back of the truck, keeping his rifle and his gaze on Garale and Rasora, but not Cosette.

  He thinks I’m not dangerous. Is it because I’m young and small? Maybe he won’t kill me, but he’s foolish to underestimate an enemy soldier.

  The woman who had shot Alena climbed into the driver’s seat, with Private Riling taking the passenger side. The truck, showing much rust and repair, bounced over the broken shrubs, crossed the broad concrete runway, and traveled past the wooden military buildings on the other side.

  They arrived at a crudely fenced graveyard. Riling and Dyson carried Alena’s body to an unused gravesite. Riling went into a nearby shed and returned with a gray funeral cloth, which he put over Alena’s body. Another soldier brought some picks and shovels.

  How strange. They don’t cremate their dead, they bury them in the earth like…like…I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem proper. But I suppose it’s proper for them.

  “We don’t have time for a funeral,” said Sergeant Cogshank, “but does anyone know this dead soldier’s religion?”

  Dyson looked at Garale, but the lieutenant stared at the ground in stony silence.

  “No?” Sergeant Cogshank cleared his throat. “Then we’ll use mine.”

  He gave a short prayer consigning the dead woman’s body to the grave and her spirit to the afterworld, stopping half-way through his prayer to ask again what her name was.

  They left Private Riling and another soldier to fill in the grave, and they walked to the nearby barracks. “Drop your duffels by the door,” said Cogshank. “We need to settle a bunch of things fast.”

  Cosette dropped her bag and sat on a cot by Rasora. Everyone crowded in, the Alliance soldiers keeping their rifles at the ready. Cogshank frisked Garale and found the disk that unlocked Dyson’s bracelet. He removed the bracelet and then snapped it around Garale’s wrist. He took the key from Cosette and tucked it into his own pants pocket, and then turned to Dyson and saluted. “Major, you’re the ranking officer here.”

  Dyson saluted back with easy precision. “You’re doing fine, Sergeant. Carry on.”

  “Thank you, sir. You say there are battleships in orbit?”

  Dyson nodded. “I expect they’ll also move in a space station for support. They can do that.” He glanced at Cosette, who dropped her eyes.

  He knows that because I let it slip. I have to remember that I'm still naïve, even though I know so much.

  “So,” said Cogshank, “we could get a visit at any time.”

  “I don’t know,” said Dyson. “We flew in on a radio signal playing music. You haven’t got any military traffic here, as far as we could tell. I doubt they’ll feel a need for a show of force. However, I did see some fighters parked out front as we drove by. They can see them from orbit and they might want to wipe them out.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Cogshank. “Those fighters can’t fly. If they could, they’d be gone with the fleet.”

  “The Union doesn’t know that. If I were up there, I’d send a force down to take them out.”

  “Private Tiebout,” said Cogshank to the tall woman, “go do some monitoring. Nothing hot, don’t let them know you’re watching. You see something coming down, give a holler, we’ll rail out of here.”

  “I’m on it,” she said, and left the room.

  “Sir,” Cogshank said to Dyson, “we’ve got three enemy soldiers here, one of them an officer. What do you recommend?”

  “Keep the bracelet on the Union Lieutenant there, especially if we need to duck and run, and keep your eye on him. These two, though,” Dyson pointed to Rasora and Cosette, “they’re cadet rank and were pressed into Union service. I don’t think they’re dangerous.”

  “We’ll see.” Cogshank turned to Rasora and Cosette. “You’re wearing the uniform of the Union of Planets. They’ve got control of this planet right now, so if they land and take over, they’ll shoot us and not you, probably. On the other hand, we could use some more soldiers if you’re willing to join us, and it sounds to me like they just tried to blow you out of orbit.”

  Garale glared at Cosette and started to speak, but the soldier guarding him jabbed him in the shoulder with the muzzle of his rif
le.

  “I don’t care either way,” said Rasora. “I only got involved with the Union because I promised Cosette’s father I would protect her. I go where she goes.”

  Cogshank peered at Cosette’s nametag. “Cadet Nicholas, I offer you the opportunity for a career in the Alliance. Care to switch uniforms?”

  “I don’t know.” Cosette felt the pressure of all eyes on her, especially the hatred from Garale. “I don’t remember why I chose to join the Union – my memory’s a bit damaged, I’m afraid – and I’m not happy with it, but I don’t know why the Alliance would be any better.” Her face grew warm, and she prayed she wasn’t blushing. “I’m just a maintenance worker, not a soldier.”

  “She’s not just a maintenance worker,” said Dyson. “She’s a trained pilot and she knows considerable detail about both Union and Alliance technology. Whatever she decides, in or out, we need to keep a watch on her. I’d say she’s more valuable than I am.”

  “Hah!” snorted Cogshank. “With respect, sir, I doubt that. Okay, right now I’m holding the key for the Union Lieutenant here.” He held the cylinder up and waved it at Garale. “If we run, you better run with us or you’ll hurt so much you’ll wish you were dead.” He looked sternly at Cosette and Rasora. “You two cadets, there’s worms and stilts out there, so don’t even think about wandering off. If the Union comes down to wipe out this base, stick with us. We know where the hidey-holes are. Until then, one of us will be guarding both of you at all times.”

  Worms and stilts?

  Cogshank slipped the key back into his pocket. “We’d better eat lunch fast – it’s too late for breakfast – and be ready to head for the hole any moment. Major Dyson, they built this base with a deep tunnel and rail cars for escape. If anything comes down, follow us. Even if they go nuclear, we can be twenty kilometers away before it hits.”

  “Don’t we have any defenses?”

  Cogshank looked like he wanted to spit but thought better of it. “Nah. Fishing villages and farms aren’t worth investing credits to defend. Our assets were all out in space, and they’re gone.”

  The dining hall was large, and they gathered at the tables next to the kitchen. Rasora sat down beside Cosette, and Major Dyson sat across from her. Private Riling joined them, his hands still damp from washing up after burying Alena.

  Two soldiers on kitchen duty served sandwiches of a chewy brown bread with thin slices of fruit and a nutty spread. Slabs of dried fish lay on the table and a brown spicy dip filled a center bowl.

  A soldier put green ceramic mugs in front of each of them, and Cosette sniffed hers with suspicion. “What’s this?”

  “Chocolate,” said Cogshank, slurping his noisily. “Ground cacao bean, milk, sugar, some other stuff, I guess. They don’t have chocolate where you grew up?”

  She shook her head.

  “They grow cacao here on Aquataine, but it's not native,” said Dyson. “Someday you’ll have to visit my home planet and I’ll show you what a really good cup of chocolate is.”

  Cosette sipped her chocolate.

  I’ve tasted worse things, I suppose.

  “It’s delicious,” she said, putting down her cup and smiling at Dyson. Rasora snorted and slid his cup away.

  As she ate, Cosette looked around at the aging dining hall. The entire base had the feeling of an abandoned farm, the paint peeling and the windows unwashed or broken. In contrast, the Union space station had been clean and polished, constantly tended by unobtrusive robots.

  Private Tiebout came in and another man went to take her place monitoring the skies. She sat by Major Dyson, picked up Rasora’s untouched cup and finished it off without taking a breath. “So,” she said. “Four Union battleships in orbit.” She wiped her mouth with her hand. “I’m going to stock up the rumbler; looks like we should head coastal and go native.”

  “I’m off to the fishing village on the west side,” said Private Riling. “It’s small, and I have a wife there. Do I have a wife there?” he asked the short man sitting next to him, who nodded. “Yessir,” said Riling, his white teeth flashing as he grinned. “Looks like the fishing life for me.”

  “This little creature making noises,” said Tiebout, pointing a piece of fish at Riling, “is one of the natives of Aquataine. Bunch of retarded inbred fisherman, but we’re hoping to rescue the breed.”

  Cosette must have looked puzzled, because Riling leaned forward to explain. “Us natives have been living here forever, happy as a flemni in a bean patch, when this ship lands and out jumps this bunch of white giants who announce they’ve come to bring us civilization. Nothing but trouble ever since.”

  “But, if you don’t mind me asking, you’re human?”

  “Oh, sure,” said Tiebout, poking her dried fish into the dip. “Same as us. DNA match and everything. Fertile, too. Some of us have gone native, so we say.”

  “But where did you come from?” Cosette asked Riling.

  He shrugged. “Here, I guess. We don’t know. We were always here, from the beginning. Nobody’s figured it out. You, Cosette, you have blonde hair like these big people, but you’re short like us. Your friend here, though, he’s not from these parts or your parts.” He looked at Rasora.

  “I’m not from Sorine,” growled Rasora, “and I’m not from Old Earth either.” His expression said that the subject was closed.

  “Say, miss,” said Riling to Cosette, “you don’t happen to be married, do you? Maybe you know how to clean fish?”

  She laughed. “I’m not married, and I can’t remember if I’ve ever cleaned a fish in my life. I’m not anxious to do either.”

  “Pity,” said Riling. He winked at the eye-rolling Tiebout. “I could use another wife.”

  “I had a question,” said Cosette. “Sergeant Cog…um….”

  “Sergeant Cogshank,” said Tiebout.

  “Sergeant Cogshank said there were worms and stilts outside? What are those?”

  “Eh,” said Riling dismissively, “they’re no problem.”

  “Don’t say that,” said Tiebout. “It was worms that killed that man with the fever that wandered off.”

  “Yeah, there was that,” said Riling. “Look, you never heard of a stilt?” Cosette shook her head. “Okay, look, a stilt is a tree feeder, and it feeds on the top of the trees. Starts out as a youngling feeding on weeds and then shrubs, it’s got four jointed legs and the body looks like an upside-down bird’s nest with a mouth on the bottom. Every year the legs get longer and it feeds on taller bushes and then small trees. The adults can straddle the tallest trees.”

  “They move slow,” said Tiebout, piling empty dishes.

  “Yes, but they’re quiet when they move and you might not notice them, except when they’re calling to each other. If you don’t keep an eye out, you could be stepped on accidental-like. But the worms, now, those monsters eat the sick stilts and the dead stilts. Healthy stilts will just brush them off and go on feeding. A worm is big enough, it can look you in the face. If you see one, hurt it. Shoot it in the body, or slice it, and it will crawl away. We’re trying to teach them not to approach humans, but they’re dumb and if they start chewing away at you, they don’t let go. So Cogshank was right, at least about the worms, don’t you go wandering around in the woods.”

  The door banged open and a soldier rushed in. “Drone coming down from orbit! Power down and into the hole!”

  Cogshank jumped to his feet and issued orders. Soldiers dashed out of the room to shut down the power, and everyone else hurried out the back door, along with Riling who had Garale by the collar and was forcing him to move.

  What looked like a pile of firewood was actually a fake door that lifted to reveal stairs going down into a tunnel. Rasora kept hold of Cosette’s arm as they descended what seemed like a hundred steps that ended in a large subterranean room with a dome-shaped metal roof. Strips of harsh lighting circled the ceiling.

  Steel rails crossed the room and extended into a large tunnel; two open cars with rows of sea
ts rested on the rails. “It’s just a look-see drone,” said the soldier who sounded the alarm, and Cogshank ordered everyone to stay put.

  Cogshank consulted a wall monitor, and from his remarks, Cosette concluded that he was using a spy camera to watch the actions of the drone.

  “There she is. Look at ‘er float. They’re checkin’ us out.” Everyone held still, as though by not moving they wouldn’t draw its attention, even though they were deep underground. “It’s in the dining hall now. Hope it can’t smell the chocolate. Place looks abandoned, though, just like we wanted it. Now it’s checking out the fighters. That’s right, look them over good, you…” He muttered a curse. “Pieces missing on each fighter, nothing threatening. It’s nosing right up to each one of them.”

  “That’s pretty good camouflage,” said Dyson. “I thought you were just being sloppy on maintenance.”

  “We are,” Cogshank chuckled. “But it’s good to have a reason for it. Whoops. There it goes, off towards the coast. Maybe going to look over the fishing villages. No problem with that. The Union won’t trouble the natives, unless the Union’s afraid of being shot out of orbit by rifles.”

  “I don’t know,” said Riling, his dark face split with a wide grin. “Some of our boys shoot pretty good.”

  “Everyone settle down and take it easy,” said Cogshank. “In an hour we’ll go back up and check for activity. Tiebout, you keep an eye on the monitor.”

  Cogshank and Dyson sat down against the wall with some other men to talk over the situation and to catch up on each others’ history. Cosette climbed up on a rail car and stretched out on a padded bench seat, taking the opportunity to rest.

  The Union of Planets versus the Alliance, and I’m wearing a Union uniform, a soldier in the Union military. Rasora won’t tell me about my family until I remember for myself, but maybe my father fought for the Union. I bet my father fought bravely and was mortally wounded. As he died, he asked Rasora to protect me, his favorite daughter. Rasora came to me and asked me to marry him, but I was determined to avenge my father, and I turned him away and joined the Union, fighting fiercely until the accident that buried my memories. He follows me now, watching over me, hoping my memory will return and I will realize the futility of vengeance, hoping that I will put my arms around him and say, yes, yes, dear Rasora, I will marry you…

 

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