by Grant, Peter
“Well, we made it,” he said eventually, suppressing a yawn. “Dad’ll be along in an hour or so with most of the others. I wonder what the General’s going to tell us this morning?”
“I don’t know, but he’s called an assembly for everyone here, so it’s got to be important.”
“You bet! Most of the Resistance is here by now. Oh, well, I guess we’ll find out in a few hours.” He hugged her gently. “Here comes the guide. Let’s get some sleep.”
“Good idea.” She leaned into him. “I’m too tired to do anything frisky, but I’d love to fall asleep with your arms around me, love. We have so little opportunity to be together, I want to make the most of every chance we get.”
“It’s a deal.”
~ ~ ~
Brigadier-General Allred stepped onto a packing crate, looking out over the assembled soldiers. A technician handed him a microphone, which he clipped to his shirt.
“Good morning, everyone,” he began. “I won’t say ‘Thank you for coming’, because we didn’t have much choice in the matter!” Laughter greeted his sally. “Nevertheless, it really is good to see you all here, because it means the Bactrians didn’t get any of us. Their latest attack turned into a wild swing that hit nothing but empty air. We owe that to a few people in particular. First, Lieutenant-Colonel Yardley held on just long enough under excruciating torture to delay the enemy’s discovery that we’d left something of vital importance in his Matopo Hills base.” He gestured to where the Colonel sat on a chair next to the members of the Council of the Resistance. There was a rumble of approval from the soldiers, who gave him a round of applause.
The General waited for silence. “That delay meant that Captain Carson and his team arrived there just in time to intercept the engineers the Bactrians sent to retrieve it.” He waved a hand in the direction of Dave and his detachment. “Not only did they rescue Colonel Yardley and destroy the engineer detachment, but they also learned about the Bactrians’ intention to attack our remaining three regimental bases. They warned us in time to evacuate those bases in good order. That’s why we’re all safely here this morning, rather than dead in the rubble of our former quarters.” The assembled soldiers broke into spontaneous applause, along with a few whistles and shouts of thanks.
“The events of the past week have brought matters to a head for us,” he went on once order had been restored. “We’ve got to face facts. We have relatively little left in the way of armaments and supplies, and we’ve been reduced to this one last fallback base. Sooner or later the enemy’s bound to discover it; and when they do, we all know what’s going to happen.
“Before this war we were over seven thousand strong; four regiments, each with a small full-time cadre and many times more part-time reservists. We professionals used to joke that they were ‘weekend warriors’. We stopped doing that a long time ago, because when the Bactrians invaded the reservists rapidly became just as professional and as expert as we were, if not more so. Today there are less than four hundred survivors of our Army still on active service. We’re all seasoned, hardened warriors, but the Bactrians have eight infantry regiments on Laredo, about fifteen thousand combat troops, plus support units. No matter how individually superior we may be to their mostly conscript soldiers, there are simply too many of them. In the end, the outcome is inevitable.”
He looked around the gathering. “We therefore face three possible courses of action. The first is to split up into small groups and continue guerrilla warfare for as long as possible. We’d try to follow the ancient dictum of Chairman Mao; ‘The guerrilla must move amongst the people as a fish swims in the sea’. Unfortunately, the sea level is getting lower all the time as the Bactrians conscript more and more of our surviving citizens into their slave labor camps. Almost eighty per cent of our pre-war population is already dead or enslaved. The remainder either lives on farms and ranches where they produce food that the invaders need, or they’re waiting to be conscripted themselves. Furthermore, the Bactrians have imposed vicious reprisals in areas where we’ve mounted guerrilla-style attacks, forcing us to choose targets as far away as possible from our peoples’ communities. For that reason, I don’t think small-unit guerrilla resistance is a viable long-term option. We’d simply hasten the suffering and death of too many of our people.”
He reached for a glass of water offered by an aide, and took a drink before continuing. “The second option is to disband.” He held up a hand to stifle immediate calls of dissent. “Hear me out, friends. If we disband, each of us will have to select an area as far away as possible from major Bactrian activity and try to make a living as best we can as civilians. There are many farms and ranches whose owners are dead, or who’ve fled to avoid conscription or Bactrian reprisals. More than a few belonged to our late colleagues. We can take them over, change our names, and try to live as inconspicuously as possible for as long as possible. The occupiers still need to buy food, so as long as they don’t know we were in the Resistance and we’re producing something they need, they’ll probably leave us in relative peace. It won’t be a very happy life and it won’t make us rich, but at least we’ll be alive. How long that might last, no-one can say.”
He drank again, and handed the empty glass back to his aide. “The third option is Armageddon. We mount one last attack against the Bactrians. They’ve given us one hell of a target if we do. At the end of this month their Satrap is coming here along with his son, the Crown Prince, who’s to be the first civilian Governor of Laredo – or, rather, not Laredo; they’re going to rename our planet Termaz.”
There was a rumble of comment. Allred held up both hands to still it. “Let me finish, please. I remind you that Bactria’s ruling family is a patriarchy, and the Crown Prince is the Satrap’s only son. If we kill both of them, there’ll be a dynastic struggle between half a dozen rival claimants to the throne. It’ll throw Bactria’s internal politics into turmoil for years to come, and may even spark a full-blown civil war. Furthermore, if we can destroy the infrastructure they’ve built up here at the same time that we target the Satrap and Crown Prince, we’ll hit them harder and cost them more than we’ve ever done before. We can literally ‘go out with a bang’. It’ll be a ‘last stand’ mission, one from which few of us stand any chance of returning, because we’re going to have to penetrate their strongest defensive perimeter to strike, then try to escape through that same perimeter. Our chances of getting away are poor, because after our attack the enemy will be alerted and mad as all hell at us. However, if the end is inevitable anyway, I submit it’s better to die on our terms, not the enemy’s, and make our deaths worthwhile.”
Again he was interrupted, this time by a roar of approval. Dave yelled right along with the others, pumping his fist in the air in agreement. Beside him Tamsin was also shouting, although he couldn’t help but notice there were tears in her eyes.
At last the General was able to continue. “I suggest to you that those who still have living wives, children, parents or siblings should not choose the last option. Your families and relatives still need you. I think you should take the second option, trying to live as civilians as best you can. It may be that some others will join you in that.”
He waved a hand at a notice-board on the cave wall. “By sixteen today, please put your names on one of two lists over there. One will be headed ‘Last Stand’. It’s to take part in a final assault, to try to kill the Satrap and Crown Prince and destroy as much as possible of what Bactria’s built up here. By choosing that option, you acknowledge that you probably won’t be coming back. The other will be headed ‘Survival’. Those who have families still dependent on them, or who want to try to make new lives by forming small groups together, should put their names on that list. I emphasize that you’ve all earned the right to choose for yourselves, and no-one has the right to criticize your choice. You’re all brave men and women who’ve proven yourselves in combat time and time again. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have lived long enough to be here toda
y. Don’t try to influence each other’s decisions. Don’t denigrate what others want to do or put undue pressure on them to change their minds. Choose for yourself, and let others do the same.
“One last thing. There’ll be a third list on the noticeboard headed ‘Orbital Operations’. If and only if you’ve already put your name down on the ‘Last Stand’ list, please add your name to ‘Orbital Operations’ as well if you ever did a course or had experience in the use of spacesuits and freefall maneuvers. Those people will have a special, critical mission as part of our final operation. I know such skills require annual refresher training, but the enemy hasn’t allowed us the space, time or facilities to do that for over three years. Therefore, those few who qualified before the war will just have to remember as much as possible and do the best they can.
“We’ll reassemble here at seventeen to discuss the options you’ve chosen.”
He jumped down from the crate to a growing rumble of conversation as the soldiers turned to each other, exchanging views and ideas.
Dave put his arm around Tamsin. “You were crying, love. Why?”
“That’s a dumb question!” she flashed at him, eyes angry. “I’ve just learned that I’m about to lose my man. How the hell do you think that makes me feel?”
He opened his mouth to answer, then blinked as the reality of her words hit him. “I… I’m sorry, love,” he said with genuine contrition. “I didn’t even think about us. I just want to hit the Bactrians so hard that they’ll never forget us. I want them to tremble when the name of Laredo is mentioned, even if they rename it to something else. I want their parents to make their kids afraid for generations to come by warning them that unless they behave, the Laredans will come to get them. I want to occupy their nightmares and make them wake up in cold sweats. I… I didn’t even think about the fact that we wouldn’t be there to see it.”
Her shoulders drooped, almost in defeat, it seemed to him. “I know. I guess that’s one of the differences between men and women. You know the end’s coming, so you’re going to face it with a shout of defiance and go out with blood in your eye and the roar of gunfire in your ears and the bodies of your enemies piled before you. Me… I can’t help but realize I’m going to lose you regardless, plus any future we might have had together. Oh, I know that could have happened anytime in the past few years, but at least there was always the prospect that you might survive. Now, the end is about as certain as it can get. There’s no evading it. Of course, I’m going to die too, so at least we’ll be together – but how I wish we could have had the chance to live together, instead of die together!”
He was silent for a long moment. “We could, you know,” he said at last, but she could hear the deep reluctance in his voice. “We could put our names down on the ‘Survival’ list, if you really want.”
She shook her head sadly. “No. You know as well as I do that sooner or later the Bactrians will realize we were part of the Resistance, or one of them will decide he wants whatever we’ve built together, or they’ll run short of slave labor. One way or another they’ll come after us, and neither you nor I are the kind of people who’ll submit meekly. We’ll resist them then if we don’t do so now, and the end result will be the same. I’d rather not have to endure the constant knowledge that we’re actually living a lie, pretending everything’s going to be OK when we know damn well it’s not. How could I ever bring kids into a world like that, knowing that sooner or later they were going to die along with us?”
He nodded slowly. “I’m afraid you’re right. Still, would you like more time to think about it?”
“No. Delay’s not going to change the reality of the situation. Let’s put our names down now – and while we’re at it, let’s add them to the ‘Orbital Operations’ list too. I was qualified to pilot in orbit as well as planetside, and you did the spacesuit and freefall courses before the war.”
“Yes, I did. We’ll see what the General has in mind.”
~ ~ ~
General Allred didn’t go into detail about forthcoming operations that evening. He climbed back onto the crate, looked around at his assembled soldiers, and said simply, “Thank you for indicating your preferences. More than three-quarters of you have chosen to join me in a ‘last stand’ assault on the Bactrians. We’ll work out the details over the next few days, and start training various teams for their assigned roles. Some of you will leave very soon to prepare the way for the rest of us.
“Just over one-fifth of you have elected to try to survive as families or groups of colleagues. We’ll do everything we can to set you up for success, including dividing our remaining Bactrian bezants and non-military supplies among you to give you the best possible start. We’ll also discuss farming and ranching options, and make available to you the properties and businesses owned by our colleagues who’ve been killed on active service without leaving any heirs. I know they’d have wanted you to have the use of them.” He was forced to stop as everyone in the cave broke into applause. Those who’d chosen to make a fresh start would clearly do so with the best wishes of their comrades in arms.
Allred waited for silence once more. “The Council of the Resistance has been discussing options for a final mission for several days now. All that was lacking was certainty as to whether or not we’d have enough volunteers to carry it out. Now that we do, I’ll ask them to give their final approval tonight. That’s a mere formality, of course, but it’s an important one.
“Thank you all very, very much. This will be the last chance I get to speak with all of you together like this, so I want you to know I’ve never had a greater privilege than to lead you all during these years of conflict. We’ve made the Bactrians pay in blood and in treasure for their decision to invade us. Now we’re going to strike our most powerful blow ever against them.” More cheering interrupted him once more.
“That’s all for now. Relax and enjoy yourselves this evening. Tomorrow we get down to work.”
March 11th 2850 GSC
LAGUNA PENINSULA
Jake led the way into the meeting room. Dave followed him, closing the door as Brigadier-General Allred and his wife Gloria rose to meet them. After a flurry of handshakes and muttered greetings, they all sat down around the table and helped themselves to glasses of water.
“I’ve asked the two of you here privately because… well, we need something that I know Captain Carson will find very difficult. Since it affects you as well, Colonel, I thought we owed it to you to broach the subject in private, where you can talk about it freely.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Jake responded for both of them.
“Captain, you put your name down on the list of those qualified in spacesuits and freefall maneuvers. You’re the only officer who did so. That makes you the automatic choice to command that portion of our final mission, but it also means we’re going to place a very heavy burden on your shoulders. I’ll let my wife explain, in her capacity as President of the Council of the Resistance and de facto head of state of our Provisional Government of Occupied Laredo.”
Gloria Allred nodded. “You know that we’re going to mount a final mission against the invaders, Captain, one that few of us – including your own father – are likely to survive. That makes what I must ask of you even more difficult. You see… we’re going to ask you to escape from Laredo. We want you to survive.”
“WHAT?” Dave surged to his feet, incredulous. “You’ve just told me that you expect to die – that you expect my father to die – on this mission. How can you – how dare you – expect me to let him die alone?”
The General held up his hand. “It’s more complicated than that, Captain. Will you please allow us to explain?”
There was a long silence as Dave stared mutinously at him. Eventually Jake put his hand on Dave’s forearm. “Son, please listen to them – because it’s me asking, if for no other reason.”
“Why are you asking? Dammit, Dad, you’ve got more experience in freefall and spacesuits than I have! Why didn�
��t you put your name on the ‘Orbital Operations’ list too? Then you could lead that mission, and I could be with you!”
Jake looked him in the eye and said slowly, deliberately, “My regiment is about to embark on its final mission. I cannot and will not send my soldiers to their probable deaths without accompanying them.”
Dave slowly nodded, then sat down, but obstinate rebellion was still evident in every line of his body.
“Thank you,” Gloria acknowledged softly. “Our biggest problem is going to be to get our accumulated evidence off the planet, and make sure it reaches the Vice-President and our Government-in-Exile. For the duration of the Satrap’s visit nobody will be allowed to enter or leave orbit except Bactrian personnel. Security will be as tight as possible. That means Mr. Ellis will be trapped here until after our attack on the Satrap. The Bactrians will be in turmoil, and probably won’t let anyone go anywhere for weeks, if not months. As for cargo shipments, even personal baggage of passengers boarding spaceships here, they’re sure to go through everything with a fine-toothed comb. There’s no way Mr. Ellis will be able to smuggle our evidence aboard his ship. That means, if we want to kill the Satrap, we have to plan on getting Mr. Ellis away ourselves, along with all the evidence we’ve gathered and our two bank bearer keys.
“There’s another aspect to that. I’ll ask Bill to explain it.”
Her husband sat forward. “Please understand that what I’m about to say is no reflection on Mr. Ellis, or whatever his real name is. He’s arranged the ship that will take our evidence to the Vice-President. Lack of secure transport is all that’s stopped us sending it to her before now, so we’re profoundly grateful to him for that. By coming here and putting himself in danger to inform us about it, he’s more than earned his fee. Nevertheless, we want to have our evidence and the bearer bank keys escorted and delivered to the Vice-President by our own people.
