The Desert of Stars (The Human Reach)

by John Lumpkin

  Harkins wondered how she could be so certain. Maybe the bad guys are into the embassy comms somewhere. Wouldn’t be the first time, she thought, remembering a stint on embassy duty on Earth.

  Neil said, “We’ll look into it. For now, we’ll get you back to San José. Do you need to see a doctor?”

  “No. I know the drug they used on me, and it is already wearing off. I do need to be scanned for any devices they may have implanted in me.”

  “Do you want us to take you to the Japanese consulate?”

  “No. The fewer people who know I am here, the better. I want to visit my hotel room to collect some items, and then I would be most grateful if you could locate some alternate accommodations for me.”

  “You could stay with me,” Neil said. “But I’m at the consulate, and you’d likely be seen.”

  Harkins spoke up. “I’m at a hotel near downtown, but no one’s been there but Lieutenant Mercer and me, so you could stay there.”

  “Thank you, Ruth.”

  From down the hall, a gun barked a single shot. A moment later, Colonel Aziz entered. His holster was unsnapped.

  “Colonel Pierce made a break for it,” he said. “It didn’t go well for him. Tell me, who is this person?”

  The lie came easy. “This is an American national who had been kidnapped by the rebels,” Neil said. “She’s grateful for your rescue but is very shaken up. With your permission, I’m taking her back to the capital.”

  “That true? You an American?” Aziz said to Kitsune.

  “Yes.” Her accent was subtly different.

  Aziz nodded. “Then that’s fine, Lieutenant. Who is the other one?”

  “Chinese operative.”

  “Then I imagine General Naima would like to speak with him. I guess I’ll bring him back to San José with the rest of you. The president’s recalled me to answer for this operation. Apparently, he wants to open negotiations with the rebels and no longer prefers us to kill them.” He shook his head. “I took an enemy base with minimal casualties, took out a turncoat and a foreign spy, and somehow I’m in trouble. I’d hate to think what would have happened if I’d lost.”

  Chapter 11

  TOKYO – Coordinated peace protests around the planet and on several colony worlds on Saturday drew hundreds of thousands of demonstrators and in some cases violent government responses. Police conducted mass arrests in scores of cities; reporters observed at least one person killed by security forces in Guangzhou and another in Oakland. “We are trying to send a message to governments that they do not have our consent to carry out this pointless war,” said Lu Caihou, a Hong Kong-based spokesman for the Transcend Borders movement. “Humanity has found sufficient elbow room among the stars to last for thousands of years; certainly we can put aside poisonous reactionary nationalism and reach a compromise over future exploration.” Counterprotests sprung up in several cities, as well. “In wartime, there’s no such thing as a loyal opposition,” said Jack Houston, a veteran who joined a hastily organized “Support America” march in Seattle. “Every war protest gives encouragement to the enemy that our side is ready to give in.”

  Sycamore, Sequoia Continent, Kuan Yin

  A hot, dry wind buffeted the white Red Cross tent as Rand, Kelley and Ruiz met with the some of the internment camp’s nominal leaders. The three men and two women looked haggard and tired like everyone else they had encountered, but the camp itself was in better shape than Rand had expected: Their Chinese captors were taking out some of the trash, at least. No human guards walked inside the compound; that was left to drones, some in the sky, and some rolling along on the wide streets.

  “We’re sorry we couldn’t have more of us here,” said their leader, Moira Tobin, a thin woman with long silver hair and tan skin slow-cooked by years in the sun. “A lot of people would get a real boost in seeing the people who are still fighting for them. But we have learned the drones always pay attention to gatherings of more than eight people in the camps. All the same, we’re delighted to have you here. We were about to send some people out to contact you.”

  Violet Kelley rubbed her temples. “I don’t recognize any of your names,” she said. “Why are you in authority? What happened to Governor Rivera?”

  Tobin frowned. “Rivera and the other surviving feds were taken to a separate detention center shortly after the camp was set up, and we haven’t seen them since. The Hans don’t seem to understand our way of government too well; they locked up the meat inspector and postmaster alongside the governor and the FBI agent. They left most of the local officials in the camp, but they monitor them closely because they fear it will be a bunch of city councilors who will lead the uprising. Because they are unable to do anything meaningful, we’re representing them to our friends outside the camp.”

  “I’ve met with Miz Tobin and the others before, Miz Kelley. They’re legit,” Ruiz said.

  “So if we ask you to, say, stage a riot to divert the Hans, you can pull it off?” Kelley asked.

  Tobin’s body jerked back slightly. “Violence is your province, not ours. We are trying to protect the safety of thousands of families here. The Chinese are our enemies and captors, but they have not been cruel. We are fed, and they have removed guards we have shown to be abusing their authority.”

  “Do you want your homes back, or not?”

  “Of course we do. But we will not start a fight we have no hope of winning.”

  “Does everyone here feel this way?”

  “There are a few hotheads who feel differently, but I assure you, we speak for everyone here,” she said.

  But Tobin’s reply came one beat too late, and Rand saw two of the other camp leaders cast quick sideways glances at one another. He looked at all of them … not a one under fifty, in his estimation.

  “How long have you been on this planet?” he asked Tobin.

  All eyes turned to him.

  “Four years,” she said, a little too sharply. “You?”

  “Got here just before the invasion.”

  They all had lives somewhere else, Rand realized.

  Kelley asked, “If you are so committed to inaction, why were you going to send some of your people to find us?”

  “They were to bring you an offer that the Chinese have conveyed to us, and asked us to convey to you.”

  Rand tensed; Ruiz looked toward the tent flap, and Kelley’s hand went inside her outer shirt. Kelley said, “What? Are you in touch with them, now? Is this a trap?”

  “No, no. As I said, they don’t know that we are anyone special. We’re the backchannel. Our captors actually seem to think we’re in greater contact with you than is the case.”

  I hope she’s telling the truth, Rand thought. “All right, then, what’s this offer? They want to surrender?”

  Tobin did not smile. “No. But they have arranged a way for all of us to get off Kuan Yin and back to American territory.”

  Rand snapped his fingers. “The transports! We figured they were bringing more troops or colonists. But they’re here to take you off-planet.”

  Tobin nodded. “They are European and Federation ships on a mission of mercy. They are here to take us home.”

  Kelley’s frown grew deeper. “Home?”

  “America, or Independence, or Columbia. Anywhere but this horrid little territory. More ships are coming; together, they can take all of us. That includes you military people and all the POWs. The Chinese would prefer you formally surrender, but they let us know that if you leave your weapons behind and come into the camp, you can depart by hiding among the civilians.”

  “Why haven’t they just forced you onto the transports?” Kelley asked.

  “Europa and the Federation insist it must be voluntary on our part.”

  “What does the USG think?” Ruiz asked.

  “We don’t know. We had hoped you were in communication with higher authorities.”

  “We were,” Rand said. “There’s an American ship at the keyhole, monitoring things here,
but we’re not in touch any more. Too much jamming.”

  “Then we’re truly on our own,” Tobin said.

  “I can tell you what they would say,” Kelley said. “No. This is American territory. They won’t cede it to the Chinese any more than they would Ohio. If the USG was on board, the Hans would have proved it to you somehow.”

  “In the end, it doesn’t matter,” Tobin said. “We won’t be pawns so the politicians can claim they plan to liberate us someday. The Chinese won here, Ms. Kelley. We’ve all wasted a year of our lives in this camp, and now we have the chance to start over somewhere else.”

  “Go, then, and leave the fighting to people who aren’t cowards.”

  Tobin didn’t rise to the insult. “The Chinese say it’s all or nothing: Either everyone agrees to go, or no one goes.”

  “Then it’s nothing,” Kelley said.

  “Violet, that’s enough,” Rand said. She turned toward him, fury in her eyes. Did I just lose her for good? To Tobin, he said, “I’ll take it to my commanders. I won’t predict what they will say.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Tobin said. “I was about to ask if the military still answers to civilian authority, or to the sort of people Ms. Kelley represents. The Hans promise they will start tightening the screws if we don’t comply. Already, they’ve cut our water ration by twenty percent, while we can see the Chinese colonists’ lawn sprinklers going on outside the wall every morning. And it’s going to get worse. Frankly, while we have no physical means to control what you people do, this really isn’t a request. We’ve made up our minds here. This is an order. In one week, you are to return here and tell us your commanders have accepted the Chinese proposal. One week after that, all military personnel on Kuan Yin are to make their way into this camp or surrender outright.”

  Republic of Tecolote, Entente

  All around Neil were soldiers, dressed in slate blue suitable for boarding operations on an enemy spacecraft. They were under thrust, decelerating toward their target, which was still days away. Most were tethered to their bunks, which were arrayed in neat stacks and columns up and down the cavernous hold. But a few of his comrades floated around in the microgravity, talking nervously, checking their stowed gear, or patting one another on the back or shoulder.

  An unfamiliar, three-beat alarm chime sounded, and everyone looked at the hull around them, reminded that only a few centimeters of carbon and metal separated them from the void.

  A voice from the bridge, speaking in hurried tones. Some of the soldiers in view began donning battle armor. The ship turned violently, and there were cries as unsecured men and women were thrown against bulkheads.

  But most who were loose made it to a bunk and strapped themselves in. Neil looked across the way at one of his friends, a young, black-haired, olive-skinned medic, who smiled weakly.

  More alarms, different tones, a shout over the ship’s internal comms. Inbound kinetics! Neil became fully weightless as the ship’s drive cut out, before a harsh turn pressed him painfully against the straps.

  Although they were warriors, trained and disciplined, a collective fear took hold. They were out of their element, at the mercy of the battle around them, unable to affect its outcome. This was not supposed to happen! Where was the fleet? It was there to protect us!

  And then a shaky baritone broke forth in song, one of the Taiwanese gopop tunes with an easy beat that was popular about five years ago, when most of the troops were in high school. It was a juvenile song of wild parties and missed loves, and everyone began singing along. Normally the lieutenants would have stopped such an undignified outburst, but here and now, they joined in.

  They hit the chorus, and the first coilgun shell burst into the great cabin somewhere above Neil, exploding in a shower of plasma that killed everyone it touched. More shells struck the troopship in a line, each coming closer to Neil. How odd, he thought, that his lungs still had air in them …

  A bright flash, close by, and a roar. Blue fire washed over him, and everything, everything was burning …

  … and Neil jerked awake, a sharp crease of pain lancing through his forehead, right about where a piece of the old San Jacinto had struck him during the Battle of Kennedy Station. The details of the dream already fading, leaving him with only a deep anxiety he could not put words to.

  A wicked bounce threw him up against his restraint. He was in the cargo area of a big Tecolote army truck, riding back to San José. Harkins snored powerfully next to him, and a few of Colonel Aziz’s troops were up near the driver’s cabin, awake but silent.

  And Misaki – Kitsune – was across from him. She looked bleary again.

  She saw he was awake and leaned forward so they could talk over the noise of the truck. Her eyes looked loose and moist.

  “You knew Admiral Tanaka,” she said.

  “Yes.” Neil had witnessed Tanaka’s ship massacring thousands of Chinese colonists before the United States joined the war, and then had dinner with the man.

  “He is a vain fool, but a predictable one. The people who put him in command are worse. We struggle over our national narrative in Japan, as every country does, but those who see Japan as something exceptional have the upper hand. Yes, we led the world to the stars, but that doesn’t mean we own them for all time, or we’ll win the wars over them. It is likely we already would have been defeated if the Anglosphere countries had not joined us.”

  Neil was fully awake. She’s still drugged, and talking. Chance to learn something here. “You’re opposed to the war?”

  “It ignores economic and demographic realities. Japan’s ascendance in world affairs was temporary; there just aren’t enough of us, relative to China, Europa and the United States. We were always destined to be surpassed, but our belief in our superiority, and a desire to maintain our preeminence, led us to build so many weapons, and then decide to use them.”

  “I won’t lie,” Neil said. “I have had a hard time understanding why Japan needs more than five colony planets, yet you are fighting for more.”

  “That is from one version of events, the one you Americans seem to prefer. We can all make claims about what caused this war, but we never really know. One can point to structural causes, like the reduced growth in our economy in the last fifteen years, and note that declining powers tend to make war on those who would supplant them. Or one can point to our loss of standing with our former friends in Southeast Asia. Or our longstanding cultural and historic disputes with China. We can say certain things were necessary for the war to happen, and other things simply made it more likely. But was any single event sufficient? As badly as we want to build a version of history that says it is so, we are just making claims. Indeed, I can tell a story in which a single meeting that was prevented from taking place should be counted as the singular necessary cause of the war. But, in the end, I don’t know if any of that is true. None of us know.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Misaki?”

  For a moment, it seemed like she didn’t hear him. “You’re on a short list of people my organization has identified as – well.” She shook her head slightly, growing more aware she was saying unnecessary things. “It seems I have not fully escaped the effects of the Hans’ drugs. But I was going to say, we’ve identified you as someone we can work with, and that if you ever have troubles with your own government, know you have an ally in us.”

  She lapsed into silence and dozed off. Neil considered waking her to keep her talking, but that felt cruel. He sat back and closed his eyes. I wish I was Harkins. That Marine can sleep.

  Neil returned to his apartment in San José in the dark hours of the morning, after dropping off Kitsune and Harkins at the hotel. He slept again and woke before his alarm went off. Outside his window the sky was a bright azure. Five hours of sleep, he calculated, when his ocular told him the time. Not enough, he thought, wishing yet again he had not left his sleeping pills back on Apache.

  He checked his handheld. There was a message from Tippy Griego, sa
ying he needed to talk about his new employee. Uh-oh. I hope Das didn’t do something stupid. It was too early to return the call, so he checked the news. Information about Tecolote was heavily censored here, but everything else was fair game.

  The lead story contained a satellite image of the Apollonian Ocean, with the green coasts of New Albion to the east and Huashan to the west. The boomerang shape of Tecolote was visible at the southern edge.

  In the center, right where the island Republic of Ardoyne should have been, was a white maelstrom.

  Near Sycamore, Sequoia Continent, Kuan Yin

  Four unhappy soldiers and one unhappy NSS paramilitary made their way home through the darkness. The little red dwarf that was companion to Kuan Yin’s now-set sun glowed brightly in the night sky, though at more than eighty AUs distance it provided them no warmth or comfort.

  Kelley seethed. “Does anyone want to win on this fucking planet? Has everyone forgotten what war is? You fight; you pay the costs, or you roll over to someone willing to grind it harder than you are.”

  Rand didn’t respond. Just let her vent. But her words inspired a whispered argument between Aguirre and Lopez, so he sent Lopez to replace Ruiz guarding their tail.

  And he wondered whether Moira Tobin’s “order” had any real meaning. She claimed authority from the local officials – city councilors, county commissioners, and the like – who were representing the prisoners at the camp. Of course the military didn’t answer to those who hired the local dogcatcher. But with Vincennes – the true line to civilian command back on Earth – completely cut off, did these people inherit authority? No, I don’t think they do. But there’s another angle: If these colonists are unified in wanting to get off the planet, and the Hans are going to make their life hell until they do, is it our job to alleviate their suffering? There are more than 170,000 American citizens in that camp, plus thousands of military personnel kept nearby who are doing nothing, but they will be allowed to return to the fight, if the Hans don’t pull a double-cross. All in exchange for getting off this rock. It’s the kind of offer that people might actually accept …