In Evil Times

by Melinda Snodgrass

  Amelia scrambled away clutching at her phone. Melodia looked like an ancient raptor as she stared at the four of them. “She is their princess.” The final word was an epithet. “We hold her. They’ll think twice before they move against us.”

  Tracy tapped his ring. “Chief, we need you,” he said at the same time he sent an emergency signal to the orbiting ships.

  “Your troops are confined and under guard,” Virginia said with bitter pleasure. She was rubbing her wrist.

  “Well, not all of them,” Tracy replied.

  They began to hear gunfire in the distance.

  19

  THE WORST KIND OF WOMAN

  Five technicians, the triumvirate and driver/security guard. Versus the four of us, assuming the admiral is up to a fight. Perhaps he and Melodia can cancel each other out. The thoughts flashed through Mercedes’ head as the driver and Virginia advanced on her. She danced back from them and evaluated the room for possible weapons. There were a lot of choices. She had the Cara’ot knife in her boot sheath, a Christmas gift from Tracy years ago, but with the sterile coveralls she couldn’t reach it.

  A massive crash followed by screams of dismay briefly drew her attention. Kartirci had dumped over one of the tables holding dishes of fertilized ova. It was certainly distracting, but Mercedes had a feeling it was just going to make their foes that much angrier.

  Cipriana braced her hands on the top of a steel table and vaulted over. Her momentum sent her barreling into the driver/guard who was attempting to unzip her coveralls. Presumably she was going for a weapon. With her forearm Mercedes blocked a blow from a technician. Sharp pain followed by a dull ache, but she’d endured a lot worse in her hand-to-hand combat classes. She grabbed the woman, yanked her in close while at the same time spinning so she could bring her elbow into contact with the woman’s face.

  There was a crack as the cartilage in her nose broke. The woman screamed, hands flying to cover her face. The white material of both her suit and Mercedes’ were spattered with blood. Mercedes shoved her into Virginia and they both went down. With a moment of breathing space Mercedes could evaluate the situation. What was abundantly clear was that Tracy and Kartirci were fighting defensively not offensively.

  The words of her first hand-to-hand instructor floated up. “There are going to be women on the other side. I lost a friend when he underestimated an Isanjo bitch. She was holding a cub, sweet little mother. She disemboweled him.” Chief Deal bellowing at a male cadet to overcome his programming and actually hit one of the woman cadets.

  She yelled at Tracy. “For the love of God! Hit them!” Surprise followed by a setting of his jaw. Tracy whirled, grabbed a beaker off a table, and smashed it into the side of a technician’s head. He followed it up with a hard punch to her jaw. She went down.

  Cipriana rolled across the floor struggling with the guard. Their hands were clasped around the pistol, which was pressed against their breasts. Mercedes’ breath went short, but she couldn’t interfere. If she tried the weapon might discharge and it was even odds who it would hit. Instead she grabbed up one of the tall stools by the legs and swung it into another technician. It took her in the midriff and the woman bent over retching. Tracy came up swiftly behind her and chopped her hard across the back of the neck, sending her to the floor.

  Amelia was running for the door. Virginia had regained her feet and was struggling with Kartirci. She was bigger and broader than the older man and he was still trying to just hold her at bay. Melodia was yelling into an intercom. The sounds of gunfire were getting closer. Even though Cipriana and the guard were lying face to face like bizarre lovers Cipriana still managed to kick the guard in the face. A testament to those years of ballet—she was still very flexible. The shock and pain loosened the guard’s grip on the pistol and Cipriana wrenched it away and leaped to her feet.

  Cipriana’s eyes flicked about the room evaluating the situation and then she shot Virginia who was on the verge of strangling Kartirci. That knocked all the fight out of the remaining techs. The three of them backed away, hands raised.

  Tracy ran across the room, grabbed Melodia and yanked her away from the intercom. She stumbled and fell against a table, then slid slowly down onto the floor clutching her ribs.

  Mercedes raced for Amelia and grabbed the back of her suit. For an instant she had her, then the material tore and the young woman was out the door. Mercedes lunged after her only to be brought up short when Tracy yelled, “Mercedes! No! We can defend here. Wait for the fire teams.”

  Mercedes took a last glance down the corridor and at the fleeing Amelia, and the doorways lining the walls. She stepped back into the lab. “Right, they could get behind us, do a wolf pack.”

  Kartirci was leaning against a table, hand to his throat. He looked rocky. Cipriana continued to hold down on the women, the barrel of the gun flicking between Virginia, Melodia, the guard, and the techs.

  Tracy knelt at Virginia’s side, pulled off his glove and laid two fingers against her throat. “She’s still alive, but we should probably try to stop the bleeding.”

  “Why?” Cipriana asked.

  “Because that way we won’t have killed anybody,” Tracy replied.

  “You don’t think the fusileros haven’t tangoed down a few of them by now?” Cipriana snorted.

  “This is one of their leaders. Let’s try not to kill her,” Tracy said as he folded a towel and pressed it on the wound in the woman’s back.

  “You’ve got the only weapon, Cipri. Go guard the door,” Mercedes ordered.

  Stripping off the clean suit Mercedes pulled out her knife. The three techs whimpered. Mercedes cut off lengths of electrical wire and bound the women and the guard. Melodia lay on the floor glaring up at her.

  “You’re the worst kind of woman. The kind who betrays her own sex.”

  “And you’re a terrible human. The kind who rejects half the population,” Mercedes retorted.

  “What happens now, Princess?”

  “You join the League.”

  * * *

  The backup squad reached them some fifteen minutes later. Amelia was with them, each arm held firmly by a fusilero. Tendrils of hair had escaped from her braid and were plastered on her tear-stained face.

  “Colder than a witch’s tit out there, sir,” the sergeant said as he saluted Tracy. He then noticed Mercedes and fell into incoherence. “Sir! Ma’am! Highness! Beg pardon.”

  Tracy was glad to see Mercedes give the man a kind smile. “No problem, Chief. Was it hot work out there?”

  “Not really. Their military forces don’t seem to have much experience with actual… fighting.”

  Tracy’s ScoopRing pricked his finger. De Vilbiss’s face appeared shimmering in the air above Tracy’s hand. “Ah, Belmanor.” The captain of the Triunfo was flushed and looked like he was enjoying himself. “Tell Her Highness we’re inbound on a shuttle, landing momentarily. What’s your situation?”

  “Under control, sir. We have all three of the leaders but one’s been shot. We’ll need a medic.”

  “Damn, that’s what we forgot.”

  “Any casualties on our side?” Tracy asked.

  “A few. Nothing life-threatening. Landing now. We’ll be there shortly.”

  A few minutes later de Vilbiss strode in. “Ah, Highness!” He saluted. “Quite bracing isn’t it? Sir!” Another salute to Kartirci. He glanced around the devastated lab. “It seems you’ve had a bit of a dance as well.”

  “What’s the situation, Captain?” Kartirci’s voice was hoarse from the near strangling.

  “We have two shuttles outside. Two flying to make sure no support comes in from the other cities.”

  “You didn’t have any trouble dealing with your guards?” Tracy asked.

  “No, we relieved them of their weaponry, used it to reach the shuttles, rearmed and headed out. They fought bravely, just not well. I suggest we return to the flag ship. We can more forcibly make our demands from there.”

  They m
ade a makeshift gurney out of a table and lifted Virginia onto it. Melodia was bound, as was Amelia. They left the techs and guard bound, and started down the hallway. There were a few attempts to interfere. Doors popping open and women taking a pot shot, but the armored squads formed a cover for the unprotected, and the merciless return fire that the attackers received discouraged more such attempts.

  Tracy was still concerned. Sometimes people got lucky and he didn’t want Mercedes on the receiving end of a lucky bullet. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled down the hall. “We have your leaders. Keep shooting and you’re likely to kill one of them.” After that the sniping stopped.

  They reached the shuttles and climbed aboard. The pilot boosted for space. They were all flung sideways as an air-to-ground missile hit them. Tracy got an arm around Mercedes and grabbed the back of an acceleration couch with his free hand. She was pressed against his chest. She smelled of sweat, cordite, perfume and woman. Her breath was warm against his neck and the hair that had come loose from her braid caught in his chapped lips.

  There was a cracking sound and one port formed a spiderweb of cracks. One of the pilots jumped out of his couch as if he’d been catapulted, moved to a storage locker, pulled out sealant film and began covering the window as they blasted for orbit.

  “Need some computation up here,” the other pilot yelled.

  Mercedes stepped back, placed a hand against Tracy’s chest and pushed him toward the cockpit. “You’re up, Captain-Lieutenant.”

  Tracy joined him. “I can do it. I’d like to be airtight before we reach vacuum.”

  “Yeah, no shit,” the pilot muttered.

  Tracy calculated the fastest route for them to intercept the Concepción. By then the secondary pilot had completed his patch job and returned to the cockpit. Tracy vacated his couch and returned to the body of the shuttle. The air smelled of blood, sweat and gunpowder. Virginia was moaning. Kartirci was muttering to de Vilbiss. Amelia was still crying.

  Mercedes looked up at him, and inclined her head toward the seat next to her. He took it, waited. It seemed like minutes passed before she said, “You’ve been… most helpful, Captain-Lieutenant.”

  The formality of the words turned his heart to stone. He stared down at his clasped hands. “The honor is mine, Highness.”

  Silence again. “I think I messed this up, Tracy,” she whispered.

  He turned to face her. “Why in heaven would you think that?” he whispered back.

  “It all turned so ugly. I should have… Maybe if I’d…” She shook her head helplessly.

  “It was always going to be bad. It’s an annexation. I’m trying to remember but wasn’t there only one time in our history class when a Lost World was eager to join?”

  “Paradise. Ironic name when the soil, water and pollens were literally killing them. There were only twenty thousand of them left when we found them.”

  “And they renamed it Paradise Lost,” Tracy said.

  Mercedes sighed, a sad little sound. Tracy’s arm jerked as he went to put it around her shoulders and then yanked it back. “This is going to be a bad one.”

  “Yes, because they’ve set up an unnatural society,” Tracy said.

  She had now turned to face him. Her breath puffed softly across his face. They were inches apart. He remembered the kiss she had given him after she’d taken out the fighter threatening the space station.

  “You’re right. We’ve got to get these children… these girls away from here before they’re completely warped. Really it’s for the best. It’s going to take years and a lot of effort to bring this planet to a truly habitable state. In fact it might not be worth the expense, but we’ll have to wait and see what the terragineers think.” She was babbling.

  “Mercedes.” He took the risk and used her name, laid a finger on her lips. “It’s way above our pay grade now. We get to just be lieutenants again.”

  She managed to smile, laid a hand briefly on his forearm. “Thank God.” The thick lashes fluttered down, brushed her cheekbones. She glanced up. “It was good working with you again. I hope, as time goes on, that you’ll always be… an advisor to me.”

  The ache in his chest intensified, but he bowed his head and said, “I’ll always be there.”

  They didn’t speak again. Tracy was very conscious of de Vilbiss’s gaze. Discomfort drove him to move to a seat further away from Mercedes. A few hours later their shuttle settled into the dock on the Concepción.

  A welcoming party was waiting. Flag Captain Vink of course and Boho. Mercedes didn’t even make it down the ramp before her husband ran forward and gathered her in an embrace. Watching them kiss was a punch to the gut. Tracy stepped backwards trying to escape the sight and trod on someone’s foot.

  “Your pardon,” he muttered savagely. A hand closed hard on his shoulder.

  “Restrain yourself, Lieutenant,” de Vilbiss whispered softly in his ear. “Try for a little of that noble composure.”

  “My darling, I was so worried.” Boho’s voice. To Tracy’s ears it sounded unctuous and self-serving. “Let me look at you.” Tracy stepped out onto the ramp to see Boho holding Mercedes at arm’s length and appraising her.

  “She’s not a prize fish,” Tracy muttered under his breath.

  “I’m fine, Boho, really.”

  “But there was fighting—”

  “Which we won,” Mercedes replied. She smiled at him and trailed her fingers across his cheek. “But thank you for being so concerned, my dear.”

  Boho spotted Tracy. He lifted Mercedes’ hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “My love,” he said, but his eyes were on Tracy and there was a smirk on that handsome face. Boho slipped an arm around Mercedes’ waist and they left the docking bay.

  “I thought you were exaggerating your lady’s charms, Captain-Lieutenant, but I now see you were moderate in your praise,” de Vilbiss said.

  “Captain, I meant no disresp… I don’t… I’m not…” Tracy choked out.

  De Vilbiss went on as if Tracy hadn’t spoken. “I do hope you’ll recall that hearts heal and new loves can arrive when you least expect it.” Tracy couldn’t face the pity in his captain’s face. He looked away, struggling for calm. “We should return to the Triunfo, Captain-Lieutenant. Things are going to get very busy now.”

  * * *

  “Really, it’s an easy decision. We’re in orbit with two warships and thousands of troops. If you don’t order your people to surrender, the first thing that’s going to happen is we drop your former spaceship onto one of your cities. Even hollowed out it’s got sufficient tonnage to reduce Amastris to rubble. Oh, and thank you for leaving it so conveniently close to hand. If that fails to convince you we’ll find a few more big rocks and pound the rest of your cities into dust. Or you can accept the reality.”

  Vink was taking far too much pleasure in delivering the ultimatum, Mercedes thought as she sat at the conference table next to Kartirci. The three erstwhile leaders of Sinope with guards to either side stood at the end of the table facing the military officers. Virginia, pale and swaying a bit, looked confused; probably an effect of the painkillers. Her injury had been treated, but she probably shouldn’t have been out of sick bay. Melodia’s look was one of naked loathing. Amelia was devastated. Her hands were shaking and she was ashen.

  “We are a representative government. We have to discuss this with the mayors and counselors of the cities,” Melodia said.

  “Your politics are of no interest to us, and what in my statement suggested there was anything to negotiate?” Vink countered. “We’ll have your surrender or rocks start to fall. Now are you going to order them to surrender or have a ringside seat to the destruction?”

  “What if they don’t agree?” Mercedes whispered to Kartirci.

  “They will.” He was unperturbed. “No society is mad enough to choose death over annexation. And they’d be monsters if they allowed their children to die.”

  Mercedes made sure that Vink and Melodia we
re still arguing. She lowered her voice even further and said, “But they’re going to lose their children.”

  “They don’t know that yet.”

  Vink turned and looked at Kartirci. “Should we give them an object lesson? Maybe the smallest city?”

  “No!” Mercedes blurted. “Sir. We’d look like monsters.” She turned to the women. “We’re just trying to bring you home. Help you join the broader society. Please, please, work with us.”

  “They’ll know we agreed to this under duress.” Amelia finally spoke. “They know we’re your prisoners.”

  “It gives them a fig leaf,” Mercedes said. “You can tell them we’ve been negotiating.”

  “The League’s version of a negotiation,” Virginia grated.

  “We need your answer,” Kartirci said gently. “Please consider the wellbeing of your people. There are many benefits that will accrue once you’re citizens.”

  The three women exchanged glances. Spoke softly among themselves. In the end they agreed. What choice did they have?

  * * *

  The order to surrender was broadcast. The warships sent all but a handful of their ground troops who disarmed the local militia, and then set about building citizenship-processing centers outside of the three cities. If there was one thing the military could do it was put up camps in short order. Between 3D printers and the materials carried aboard the warships, they soon had two fenced compounds outside of the smaller cities and three outside of Amastris. Because of the building frenzy there had been a steady flight of shuttles coming and going from the planet’s surface ferrying down personnel from the transport ships, and materials from the warships. It made the constant flights seem normal, which was good in light of what was about to happen.

  It took three weeks, but everything was now in place. After much discussion it was decided that Mercedes would record the announcement that would be sent out over the cities’ emergency broadcast networks. Even though she was technically one of the enemy, this occupying force, at least it would be a woman issuing the order and not a man.