Indomitable

by W. C. Bauers

  “An exercise that you’re carrying out against orders!”

  Sergeant Morris raised his weapon. “Sir, your minicomp or your wrists. Your choice?”

  “I will not stand down, Sergeant. As you just heard, you were ordered back to HQ by the general. I’ll see you busted down to corporal for this.”

  “Lieutenant,” Promise said as patiently as she could. “The general never ordered me to do anything. All she did was ask. I asked to continue the mission, and the general approved my request. That is not on your recording. You may comm her personally to confirm its truth. I’d replay the conversation for you myself. Except I can’t seem to reach my AI at the moment. Nevertheless, we just heard what she said to your controller and she couldn’t have been clearer. Play it again. Please. Because you are so adept at following orders, I believe you will be able to clearly discern the nature of the general’s.”

  During the replay, Cahill’s jaw clenched. He turned back to look at Promise. “You’re arguing a technicality.”

  “Words matter, Lieutenant. In fact, the First Directive specifically mentions this fact. Lieutenant, do you remember the First?”

  The lieutenant crossed his arms. “Don’t mock me.”

  “Sergeant Morris, if you please.”

  The sergeant cleared his throat. “‘A Marine never lies to a superior or violates his word. If he does, he betrays the Corps, his fellow Marines, and himself. A Marine’s word is her bond. What she thinks she says. What she says she does. What she does defines her.’”

  “Sergeant, relieve the lieutenant of his minicomp. Kathy, tie him up. You are authorized to use appropriate force if he resists you.”

  “You have no right.” Cahill looked ready to lunge at Promise. “Lieutenant, I will have you up on charges, all of you. Do you hear me?”

  “And shut him up too.”

  Promise walked up to Cahill and pushed his chair out of the way, with him still in it. He lunged for her sidearm but was a microsecond too slow. Morris grabbed the lieutenant’s hand, bent it backward, and brought the man to his knees.

  It took Promise a moment to find the main comm. Her words echoed across the floors and lifts, the offices and mess hall of Mount Bane, causing tables of Sailors, Marines, and civvies to pause in midchew. “This is Lieutenant Promise Paen of Victor Company, Charlie Battalion, Fifth Brigade, Twelfth Regiment. Roughly one hour ago, my unit assaulted this installation and was presumed neutralized. Obviously, V Company is alive and well. We have secured this installation and the control room. Lieutenant Cahill was ordered to stand down and chose to resist instead. After an unfortunate tussle, we regret to inform you he is now in our custody and care. If I understand the mission brief correctly, upon entering the control room the attacking force may claim the victory by pressing the little red button.” Promise lifted the clear plexi lid and pressed the red button. The room went dark for a moment. “This exercise is over. Enjoy your breakfast. Lieutenant Paen, out.”

  * * *

  The ANDES standing in the corner of the room was used to being ignored. Second-gen, Mercury-class-B12 android enemy soldiers hadn’t been used for years. Spare parts were impossible to find. This particular Mercury was missing armor plating on the right chin and thigh, probably removed years ago with the weapons systems. The faceplate was cracked, the lower abdomen open to air. Abandoned and long forgotten, no doubt, except for the bits of dried carbonscreen someone had stuffed into its bowels. And, in spite of the regs against naming ANDES, the Mercury’s name tab said JOE BREAKDOWN.

  Breakdown happened to be an amnesiac. It knew to answer to its proper name and the shortened version of it—Down. “Get Down to do it” was commonly heard in the main control room, after one of the bars had issued an order that the stripes didn’t particularly care for. Like refilling the caf or trudging down to the utility closet for spare sani because the head had run out.

  Earlier that morning, when Promise transmitted the stand-down codes, Breakdown had responded like the other ANDES. Except it encountered a problem. After decommissioning, the ANDES’s combat matrix had been wiped and its memory links severed. This meant Breakdown didn’t know what to stand down from. When it sought clarification, it ran a diagnostic and found the problem. A small, long-forgotten reserve of nanites restored the ANDES’s connections to its backups, at roughly the same time that Sergeant Morris subdued Lieutenant Cahill, the lieutenant of the watch.

  It was then that Breakdown remembered its original programming, and it responded as it had originally been designed to do. With lethal force.

  Sergeant Morris didn’t see the sentinel turn toward him and draw back its fist.

  The ANDES looked down at Morris, now crumpled on the floor, blood gushing from his head.

  An unidentified woman dressed in beegees threw herself over Morris’s body. Her screams echoed across the control-room floor.

  “Medic!”

  Twenty

  MAY 6TH, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 0823 HOURS

  REPUBLIC OF ALIGNED WORLDS PLANETARY CAPITAL—HOLD

  RAW SENATE BUILDING

  I wish they would back off. Promise batted another hovercam out of her way. “No comment.” The newsies were everywhere. Warm bodies and mechs, pressing in from all directions.

  “A statement. Just a word, ma’am, please.”

  I’ll give you a word. Promise wanted to shoot the hovercams out of the Senate rafters, and if she’d had her pulse rifle with her the temptation might have been overwhelming. She was barely halfway down the main aisle of the Senate floor and far short of the brick-red carpet the newsies had to stay off of. Red like a sea of blood. Sharks patrolled the waters and she didn’t dare show fear or they’d smell it and eat her alive. Overhead a swarm of hovercams clicked and jockeyed for the best aerial position as flashes of light burst from the sky. Logos for TransWorld News and Universal News Corp. and the Hawk. The noise and the barrage of light were stretching her thin. One of the hovercams got too close. Boom. The flash temporarily blinded her, and triggered a memory she’d worked hard to lock down. She saw the ghost of a Marine jumping on a grenade meant for her. Boom. Another specter came, a downed Marine near death, mechsuit crushed, autodestruct enabled in a final act of defiance. Boom. She was standing in a sea of decaying corpses. Then they started to rise and claw at her legs. She swore she could feel a bony hand tearing at her calf. It’s not real, P. None of it is. Boom. “Just a word, ma’am.” Boom. Get a grip, Marine. Boom. The room began to spin.

  “All right, all right! Leave the lieutenant alone.” A striking woman with jet-black hair and high cheekbones pushed through the newsies and put her arm around Promise. Several men in tailored suits followed close behind her, and then spread out to form a human wall. “There will be time enough to interview the lieutenant … after her testimony.”

  “There will be?”

  “Of course, Lieutenant. Here, drink this. You don’t get to come to the mountain without paying the price. Senator Terra Jang, at your service.” Jang was older than Promise but not by enough to be her mother, and her tailoring was exquisite. “Now, let’s get you to your chair. Everyone, please step aside. Now!” Jang barked like a gunnery sergeant in a sea of privates. “Better. Thank you all. I will be holding my own press conference after the hearing and you are all invited. Drinks and hors d’oeuvres will be served.”

  “Thank you, Senator,” Promise said as she wiped her brow.

  The flashes and clicks and “over here, ma’am”s retreated to a manageable distance. Promise stepped onto the red carpet and took a deep breath, felt her senses return and with them her better judgment. Never fully trust a senator, particularly one you don’t know a stitch about.

  “Ah, here we are.” Jang motioned to a long rectangular table. Each end had its own small touch screen and a pickup. In the middle sat a tray with water and drinking glasses. “You’re going to do splendidly. Orphans like us must stick together.” Said like it was a badge of pride. “You’ve got more than one senator i
n your corner. Okay?”

  Promise’s eyes narrowed as she considered Jang’s revelation, and took her seat. Interesting. Jang nodded. “Our stories matter, Promise. It’s up to us to make sure they get told. Don’t hold back, ever. We will talk later. Plan on it.”

  We will? The noise level on the Senate floor had grown so loud that Promise couldn’t hear herself think. She turned in her chair and saw hundreds of unfamiliar people; dozens were staring at her. Looks like a full house. Maxi and Kathy were in the balcony somewhere, which looked just as packed. Promise was about to give up on them when she saw a white flag waving back and forth from the third row back. Very funny. Maxi and Kathy were dressed like she was. Regular-dress blues, standard glittery and ribbons. She desperately needed a familiar face, even if theirs were too far away to make out.

  A moment later, a young woman in a smartly pressed suit approached from Promise’s right side. “Lieutenant Paen, I’m Valentine Aliri. Senator Jang asked me to check on you. Is there anything you need?”

  Need? Promise’s shell shock must have been apparent. Aliri smiled. “Don’t worry, ma’am. It’s your first time. Here.” Aliri leaned forward and activated the screen on the table in front of her. A holographic window opened above it, at a comfortable reading level. Promise’s statement appeared a moment later in large script.

  “Don’t worry about them—” Aliri looked over her shoulder, nodded to the wall of newsies and hovercams, and then looked back at Promise’s speech. “Only you can see it. Feel free to edit on the fly. If you lean to the side it disappears. See? Keeps the newsies from scooping your speech.”

  “That’s very useful,” Promise said.

  Senator Terra Jang appeared in an adjacent window and briefly made eye contact with Promise. Below Jang a file appeared with the names and party affiliations of senators she was about to testify before. All very useful.

  “Thank you,” Promise murmured. “My mind’s gone to mush. I’ve been trying to keep all the names straight. Ms. Aliri, thank you for your assistance, and please thank the senator for me too.”

  “My pleasure. And please call me Val. The senator likes to keep things on a first-name basis. Do you need anything else, ma’am?”

  “No, I’m fine, I think. And please call me Promise.”

  “If I may, Promise, breathe in through your nose. It will help.”

  “Like a runner. I should know that.”

  “Exactly.” Val looked up as someone shouted her name. “This place can get to you if you let it. So don’t.”

  “Roger, that.”

  Promise turned her attention to the holoscreen and Senator Jang’s dossier. She quickly scanned it and then swiped it aside. Keyed a file and quickly discarded it, and then another. Movement on the Senate platform drew her attention. A few senators had already found their seats. There was Senator Jang taking the steps now. Jang’s seat was off to the side, which made sense, Promise thought, given Jang’s junior status on the Homeworlds Alliance Committee. Promise returned to the dossier and dug a bit further. One of Jang’s op-eds caught her eye.

  ANTI-SLAVER’S GUILD SAVED MY LIFE

  A quick scan of the article and she knew Jang’s orphan story was absolutely true. Her parents had died when she was young. An unscrupulous uncle had sold her to a sex ring at the age of seven. She’d been trafficked until thirteen. Escaped with a life-threatening virus. Jang had clawed her way back to health, and attended school, landing an internship with Justice Brick on the high court. The more Promise read the more she liked Senator Terra Jang. But don’t like her too much. She’s still a poli—

  Bang.

  A gavel crashed and the hearing was called to order by a frail-looking gentleman wearing a dark-gray suit and a bow tie. The man appeared in Promise’s holoscreen and seemed to look right through her. His name floated to the right. Senator Harold McIrney.

  “Lieutenant Paen, thank you for appearing before the committee this morning.” Senator Jang’s dossier vanished and McIrney’s replaced it. He was the chair of the Homeworlds Alliance Committee, in his eighth decade, a high-ranking member of the New ’Verse Democratic and Labor Party. The challenge in his eyes was impossible to miss. “We look forward to hearing what you have to say to us regarding the tragic accident that claimed the life of Sergeant Richard Morris, one of your platoon sergeants, and we hope to learn the truth of why your unit took the actions it did leading up to the sergeant’s ill-timed death.”

  Promise nodded and squared her shoulders. A shiver of sharks was circling, and Promise feared Senator McIrney was leading the pack. McIrney introduced his fellow committee members and gave an opening statement. Then he addressed Promise.

  “Before we ask you our questions, I believe you prepared a statement for us to hear. Yes?”

  “Yes, Senator McIrney.”

  “The floor is yours, Lieutenant,” said McIrney. “You have the committee’s undivided attention.” Then McIrney clasped his hands together and leaned forward.

  “Thank you, Senator.” Promise took a sip of water and said a quick prayer. Sir, morning glory. I could sure use some grace. “Before I read my statement, I’d like to thank the Homeworlds Alliance Chair and Committee and the Senate Frontier Defense Chair and Committee, and the honorable senators present, for the opportunity to testify today. I’ve given much thought to my comments, regarding the fateful events of the day in question. I wish to make it clear that I was Sergeant Morris’s commanding officer. He was operating under my orders when he was killed, and I assume full responsibility for his loss.”

  Promise spent the next five minutes sketching the events leading up to Morris’s death: her unit’s losses; the mysterious stand-down codes and her conversation with General Granby; infiltrating the island; and her deep regret over the sergeant’s death. “He saved my life on Montana. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for his actions then. His loss will never leave me.” Promise fought hard for her composure.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” said McIrney with a flat expression. “While I appreciate your candor and heartfelt feelings for Sergeant Morris, I’m not sure I agree with everything you said regarding the training operation you commanded. But, we will get to that in due time. For the present, I yield the floor to the honorable Senator Jang. Senator, the floor is yours.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chairman.” Jang turned to Promise. “Lieutenant, you’re a credit to the Marine Corps and to our great Republic. You deserve even more for what you accomplished upon your birth world, Montana. And you have my sincere thanks … and that of your star nation.”

  McIrney and a few of the other senators on the platform went rigid in their chairs at the mention of Montana. Smiles forced, there and gone a moment later. Jang’s comments had obviously touched a nerve.

  “Thank you, Senator Jang,” Promise said.

  “I just have a few questions for you. So, let’s take them one at a time, okay?”

  Promise nodded. Here we go.

  “First, did General Granby order you to continue the training operation before or after your unit suffered nearly ninety-percent casualties?”

  “After, Senator.”

  “Secondly, did the general send you the stand-down codes for the island’s defense?”

  “Senator, I honestly can’t be sure. It was not precisely clear to me where the codes originated from.”

  “Understood, Lieutenant. Then tell us what you believed at the time to be the case.”

  “At the time … yes … I believed the codes came from the general. Though I wasn’t sure.”

  “Very good. Thirdly, did the general authorize you to continue the training operation after she’d commed the island and told the lance corporal on watch to stand down the island? I believe she told him to go get something to eat too. Does that sound about right?”

  “Yes, Senator, but not in so many words. However, her intent was clear. That’s as I remember things.”

  “Very good, Lieutenant,” Senator Jang said. “As you know, Lieu
tenant, your actions on the day of Sergeant Morris’s death have come under scrutiny.” Jang looked to her right as she spoke. “Mr. Chairman, I’d like to read a letter from Lieutenant Paen’s former commanding officer because it speaks directly to her utter dedication and experience in—”

  “Senator Jang.” McIrney’s tone was patronizing. “If you wish to ask the lieutenant more questions then please continue. Otherwise, please yield your time to the next speaker. We have a tight schedule to keep this morning and much to discover.”

  “Mr. Chairman, this letter—” Jang held aloft a piece of carbonscreen. “—bears directly upon the events at hand.”

  “Senator Jang, we are here to question the lieutenant, not to grandstand. Since you have no further questions, the chair recognizes—”

  “Mr. Chairman, I must protest your actions. My time is not up!”

  The senator next to Jang leaned over and spoke something into her ear. A brief flash of anger crossed Jang’s face. They exchanged words and then Jang closed her eyes, and nodded. When she looked up, a near-convincing smile was locked into place.

  “If it pleases the chair, I yield the bulk of my time to the honorable Senator Oman,” Jang said. She glanced at Promise, her expression unreadable. But the close-up of Jang on Promise’s screen showed the worry in her eyes.

  “The chair acknowledges the honorable Senator Jang has yielded the remainder of her time to the honorable Senator Oman. Senator Oman, the floor is yours. You have your time plus Senator Jang’s remaining minutes to ask your questions.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Chairman.” Senator Lucia Oman surveyed the Senate floor. Her cool, deep-set eyes bored into the pickup and out from the flatscreens positioned throughout the Senate floor, and via the nets across Hold, into every tuned-in home. The news bureaus were feverishly editing the feed in real time and transmitting just-in segments to the small fleet of private courier jumpships scheduled for all the major system nexuses. Departures in the A.M. and P.M. hours. The senator licked her lips and nodded.