Resist the Red Battlenaut

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  Then, he glimpsed movement behind the men and realized that someone was walking out through the gap instead.

  Involuntarily, Scott held his breath. Whoever was back there, protected by all those armed guards, it couldn't be good news for him.

  Or could it?

  As Scott watched, a figure emerged from between the guards--and the breath he'd been holding rushed out of him in a sudden cry.

  It was her. She was alive and apparently unhurt. And all he could think to do was run over and wrap his arms around her, if not for all the guns aimed point blank at him.

  Then he decided that the guns didn't matter. Just as her feet stepped onto the ledge, he charged over and wrapped her in a hug.

  "Thank God!" he said. "I was so worried about you!"

  "Well, there's nothing to worry about anymore," said Grandma Bern, eyes twinkling as she beamed at him. "Everything's going to be all right from now on, I promise."

  Scott broke the hug. "I'm so glad you're all right. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

  "Well, I never had any doubts." Bern patted his back. "After all, you're my grandson, aren't you? You can do anything."

  "So they haven't hurt you?" asked Scott.

  "Not a bit, Solly," said Bern. "I'm perfectly fine."

  Scott hugged her again and whispered into her ear. "Don't worry. I'm going to get you out of here."

  "That's very sweet," she whispered back. "But I don't think we can leave right now." Leaning back, she smiled sadly and patted his cheek. "The head of this operation has other plans in store, apparently."

  Scott frowned. "The head? Who's that?"

  "Someone you know quite well, actually," said Bern.

  Just then, a flicker of movement from the antigrav platform caught Scott's eye. Someone else was walking out from behind the Red troops.

  Someone Scott knew quite well indeed.

  He froze, gaping in horrified amazement at the new arrival. It wasn't possible, was it? After so many years, how could it be?

  Yet there he was. Older and grayer, yet oh so familiar. Thin as a reed, as a weed in a pale blue jumpsuit, with a stretched-out face like a mashed banana, like a painting that had run in the rain. The mouth with a life of its own, his most striking feature, with teeth like tombstones with names etched into them and lips that had been tattooed black. It was a visage that Scott could never ever forget, no matter how hard he tried.

  And the voice, when he spoke, was familiar, too--big and deep and friendly. "What have we here? A family reunion?"

  Thirteen years fell away in a heartbeat. At the sight of that man, Scott felt like a child again, like a thirteen-year-old boy being dragged into Iridess Chasm.

  A thirteen-year-old boy being dragged by that man walking toward him.

  "My, how you've grown." said the man, lips spreading in a lecherous grin that the years hadn't dimmed.

  Scott didn't answer. He just stood there, dumbfounded, as Cairn did the heavy lifting and said the name so Scott wouldn't have to.

  "Mr. Vore," said Cairn. "I followed your orders, sir. I'm ready for my next assignment."

  *****

  Chapter 41

  Larvis Vore, the man who'd abducted Scott and Cairn thirteen years ago on Tack, spread his arms wide. "Your next assignment? Get out of that damn armor and get over here for a nice group hug with Scotty and Uncle Larvis."

  As Vore kept coming toward him, Scott backed away. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening. "What's he doing here?" he shouted at Cairn.

  But Cairn didn't answer. He just stood there in his civilian armor and hung his head.

  Meanwhile, Vore grinned at Scott. "Hey there, buddy." Vore said it with exaggerated sweetness in his rumbling bass voice. "Who's my favorite little boy in the whole, wild world?"

  Scott felt like he was trapped in a nightmare. He shook his head hard, trying to clear it, but couldn't.

  "Isn't this cool, you guys?" Vore bobbed his head at Scott, then Cairn. "The three musketeers, together again on this historic occasion?"

  Scott ignored him and shouted at Cairn. "This can't be right!" How could it? How could Larvis Vore, the perverted child abductor and parent killer, have ended up here, in the heart of a conspiracy to reshape the quadrant? "He can't possibly be the head of all this!"

  Still, Cairn was silent.

  But Bern was not. "Because he isn't. The only thing he's the head of..." She pointed a finger at Cairn. "...is him."

  Scott frowned. "I don't understand."

  Bern was frowning, too. "He's Cairn's handler."

  "Owner would be more accurate." Vore's grin became a sneer.

  "But I thought..." Scott stared up at Cairn's Battlenaut. "I thought you got away from him."

  Cairn's voice, as he finally spoke, was somber. "I never said I escaped."

  "Oh my God," said Scott. "All this time? You've been with him all this time?"

  "Remember when you asked me how long I was with him after Penitent Peak?" Cairn sighed. "I said 'forever,' and I meant it."

  Scott took more steps back, then bumped into the leg of a Red Battlenaut and stopped. "He owns you? What the hell does that even mean?"

  "It means he's my slave," snapped Vore, patting his bony chest through the pale blue jumpsuit. "Just like you would have been, if he hadn't saved your ass."

  "He pushed you off Penitent Peak," said Scott. "I thought you were both dead."

  Vore laughed. "He saved your ass more times than that. I had a jones for you, boy. But every time I tried to grab you up, he somehow got in the way." Looking up at Cairn's Battlenaut, he winked one sunken eye. "You jealous thing, you."

  "Jealousy had nothing to do with it," said Cairn.

  "But now that we're all together," said Vore, "and everyone is getting a fresh start, I don't see why we can't join forces the way we were meant to. Three is never a crowd in my world."

  "Enough of this!" said Bern. "You know he's off limits."

  "But things are changing." Vore gestured at the cavernous command center spread out before him. "No need to stick to the old rules, is there?"

  Bern shook a finger at him. "You're not in charge here, scum."

  "Then who is?" asked Scott. "Who is the head of this operation?"

  Vore's eyes widened with delight. "You mean to tell me you don't know?" He let out a belly-laugh. "Oh, that is just too rich."

  Scott's frown deepened. "Why? What's going on?"

  "No wonder you still think there's hope!" Vore said through his laughter. "No wonder you still think you can pull this off!"

  Anger replaced shock as Scott stormed toward him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Suddenly, Cairn stepped in front of him. "It's her." He pointed one Battlenaut finger at Bern. "She's the head of all this."

  Scott felt a wave of intense cold rush through him. It couldn't be right, there wasn't a chance of it. His beloved Bern, the solid rock of his life, could never be responsible for this. Cairn's accusation was just a trick designed to come between them.

  "Flux you," he told Cairn. "You're full of plang."

  "I'm sorry," said Cairn. "But it's true."

  "Never," said Scott. "Never in a million years."

  But when he said it, he looked her way. Full of rage and defiance and absolute denial, he met Bern's gaze, expecting to see equally strong defiance and denial in her eyes.

  And he didn't see it.

  In a look, in a flash, he felt everything inside him go up in smoke. He was instantly hollowed out, left with just a shell, an echo of the person he'd been a moment ago. And then, when her gaze hardened, became something he'd never seen before, he lost that, too.

  There were no words for it. He just stood there and stared at her, mesmerized, unconscious of anything or anyone else around him.

  His feet were on the ledge, but he felt like he was drifting, rolling, spinning--as if gravity had no hold on him anymore. As if nothing could fix him in place now that his link to the rational universe had be
en broken.

  She kept staring back at him. "It's true," she said, but how could that possibly be her? His Bern would never say that. "I'm in charge here."

  Her voice seemed to come from a hundred light years away. Her words sounded like a foreign language he could barely understand.

  Was he standing or sitting? Awake or asleep? Dead or alive? He couldn't tell anymore.

  She reached out, and he backed away. Somewhere, in another universe, Vore was laughing his ass off. Commonwealth ships and Battlenauts were shooting the hell out of each other on dozens of video screens.

  It was then he came to a realization: the world wasn't in the process of ending, as he'd feared.

  For him, it was already over.

  *****

  Chapter 42

  "Solly, wait," said Grandma Bern. "Hear me out."

  Scott closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears. Maybe, if he tried hard enough to make the nightmare go away, things would go back to the way they'd once been. Maybe, he could go back to having a grandma who wasn't trying to bring down the Commonwealth.

  But that kind of happy ending was out of his reach. After a moment, he felt someone grabbing his wrists. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Bern was the one who was holding on, straining to wrench his hands from his ears.

  "Listen to me, please!" Her voice was muffled but still made it through his hands. "In the name of everything we've meant to each other through the years, please let me explain."

  Scott let up the pressure on his ears and slowly lowered his hands. He didn't want to hear what she had to say, didn't want her image to be tarnished any further--but he had a change of heart brought on by a feeling that was new to him.

  He was afraid of her. Afraid of what she might do if he didn't play along.

  "Thank you." She nodded grimly. "I know this is hard for you, but thank you for giving me a chance."

  Scott didn't think he had a choice in the matter. He was completely unarmed and alone in a den of wolves. Glancing around, he saw that the Red Battlenauts and troops still had their weapons locked on him. Larvis Vore still stood nearby, practically licking his black-lipped chops as he stared at him. Then there was Cairn, who'd spit on his attempts at friendship and betrayed him.

  Scott was hollowed-out, shocked, friendless, and trapped. He hated to think what might happen if he refused Bern anything she asked for.

  So he listened.

  "In the message I left you," said Bern, "I told you that because of Project Lethe, every man, woman, and child has been secretly injected with a virus that diminishes the impact of violent memories. As a result, war has become more commonplace."

  Scott nodded.

  "I'm afraid that was an understatement," said Bern. "Over the past five years, the number of conflicts within the Commonwealth has grown exponentially. There are so many hot spots cropping up every day, we have trouble tracking them all. And most aren't even related to the Civil War."

  Bern shook her head gravely. "The theory is, generations of inoculation and mutation have made the virus more potent, amplifying its effects on humanity. We have become a species of war-mongers, always spoiling for a fight.

  "This has fueled the rising tide of conflicts and put us on the road to destruction. If the number of conflicts continues to spread at the present rate, it will soon reach critical mass. The Commonwealth will be engulfed by a wave of warfare the likes of which humanity has never before experienced.

  "The end result is inevitable. The fall of civilization as we know it within one year. The annihilation of all human life within one year after that. Absolute doomsday.

  "Unless we take drastic measures." Bern gestured at the vast command center behind her. "Unless we burn it out first."

  Scott stared at her and tried not to look horrified. Was she actually saying what he thought she was? It didn't seem possible.

  But the more she said, the more her conviction became clear to him. "My team and I worked through endless simulations, considered endless scenarios." Bern nodded firmly. "This was the only one that stood a chance of success." She gestured at the command center again.

  "A controlled burn can be used to contain a forest fire," she said. "Destroy the fuel around the fire, and it will burn itself out. It will have nowhere else to go.

  "The same principle applies here. Destroy enough fuel--enough military assets and resources--and the wars will stop spreading. They will burn themselves out.

  "To that end, our scientists developed a catalyst virus, quantum-entangled with the Lethe virus. The catalyst virus has a two-pronged effect on those infected with Lethe: it makes catalyst-coated personnel, equipment, and facilities invisible to them, and it enables us to plant sensory input in their minds. It lets us make allies see each other as enemies.

  "That's where this transmitter comes in." She gestured at the giant array spanning the length of the command center. "We developed it in the facility you destroyed on Shard. The special properties of the biometal found there amplify the signal from the catalyst virus, extending it far beyond its normal range. With this transmitter, we are able to boost the signal across the entirety of the Commonwealth and Rightful space, activating Lethe in every human mind--and setting everyone at each other's throats.

  "When it's all over, the Commonwealth and Rightful worlds will be shattered. The surviving population will turn inward, spending the next century or two rebuilding...and ridding themselves of the virus. New inoculations will stop, and without them, we project that humankind will develop an immunity to the virus within three to five generations.

  "When we rise up out of the ashes, we will be a stronger and more peace-loving species." Bern smiled. "Instead of extinction, humanity will find salvation. A brighter future instead of no future at all."

  With that, she folded her hands at her waist and watched him expectantly. "Do you understand now?" she said. "Do you see why the success of this operation is so critical?"

  Everyone on the ledge and antigrav platform was watching Scott. He could feel the pressure of all those eyes bearing down on him at once, making it hard to breathe and harder still to focus.

  What should he say? For the first time in his life, he was at a complete loss; for the first time, he couldn't ask himself "What would Bern do?" and instantly come up with an answer that seemed right to him.

  His grandmother was talking about killing millions, maybe billions, to create a "controlled burn" that would save humanity from extinction. It was something that felt wrong from the start; it was hard to believe Bern had even come up with the idea.

  Or was it? She'd always said how important it was to do what was necessary, no matter the cost. Sacrifice for the greater good was part and parcel of her philosophy, and that of the Marines, as well.

  With humanity's very survival at stake, would any sacrifice be asking too much? Wouldn't any action, no matter how extreme, be justifiable?

  Then why did Bern's plan still seem so wrong to him? If everything she'd told him was true, he could understand why she'd come up with it. If she thought it was the only chance to prevent extinction, he could see why she was going through with it in spite of the staggering cost.

  But understanding Bern's plan and agreeing with it were two different things. And agreeing with it, Scott found, was something he just couldn't do.

  It went against too many of the principles he held dear: that killing should be used only as a last resort, and even then should be minimized; that the welfare of civilians must never be ignored, no matter what their allegiance; that it is the responsibility of a just man to resist orders for the commission of unjust acts; and that where there is life, there is hope.

  Ironically, these were all things that Bern had taught him through the years. In effect, she had taught him to oppose her.

  "Scott?" Bern sounded impatient. "I asked if you see why it's so critical that this operation succeeds."

  Instead of answering, Scott asked a question of his own. "So you weren't abducted from
Oberon?" His voice sounded small to him, like the voice of a stranger. "You arranged all that?"

  Bern nodded gravely. "I needed to make myself look innocent," she said. "Someone has to step in when the dust settles and begin guiding humanity through the new dark age. I wouldn't be able to do that if my role in this operation was exposed to the population at large."

  Scott frowned. "So you ordered the attacks on the Sam Nicholas and Augustus? To make your capture look convincing?" Just saying it made him feel sick in the stomach.

  "It was all for the greater good. I truly believe that." Her eyes darkened and turned downward. "Which isn't to say it was easy. Or that it won't haunt me for the rest of my life." She met his gaze and frowned. "I'd say the same thing about all of this. I wouldn't wish this terrible weight on anyone."

  Scott believed she was telling the truth, that what she'd done had been hard on her...and that made it harder for him to hate her. That made it harder to consider what he knew in his heart would have to be done.

  Looking around at the Reds, at Vore, at the mayhem on the screens, Scott wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else. He wished he'd never come to Bellerophon, never gotten Bern's message back on the Sun Tzu...and then the thought of all that made him realize something. "You wanted me here," he said. "The message about Lethe and Bellerophon--you wanted me here."

  Bern smiled grimly. "Guilty as charged."

  Scott shook his head as he did the mental math. "That's why you're working with him?" He jabbed a finger at Vore. "With the man who killed my mother...your own daughter?"

  Bern nodded. "I knew, from military intelligence, that he had Cairn. And I knew Cairn would be the perfect bait...first, to distract you--the one person unaffected by Lethe--from interfering with our plan...and then to lure you here when the time was right." She looked at Vore with an expression of distaste. "As sick as it made me to deal with that despicable scum, I believed it was necessary to bringing you in without arousing suspicions."