by Ian Miller
"The Romulus is heavily damaged, and I shall have to remain on Chiron for some time. I shall see you again sometime soon, and for the moment, congratulations on an effective battle plan well executed. Enjoy your victory! I too am celebrating here. Goodbye."
"Greetings, Lucilla," Gaius replied, standing before the wall. "As you anticipated, Natasha is indeed here. We both thank you for your timely intervention and we are both very pleased to see you back. Enjoy your victory as well, for it is as much yours as mine. Should you wish to accompany us to Earth, let me know, and I'll come and get you. In the meantime, we are collecting the damaged M'starn ships, and will be available in about twenty hours. So, from both of us, thank you and goodbye."
Gaius stepped back, and turned to Natasha. "You can thank her more fully when we meet. Even though Chiron's on this side of the solar system, it's still going to take some time to get a return message, so let's rest for a while, and allow our tireless Companions to get this more boring task completed."
Chapter 16
Victory was celebrated on Earth and on the colonies. For Beth Hanson, it was a moment of victory, and also a moment of release. If she wished, she could return to the lands of the corporations, to resume her place in corporate life. It was a prospect for which she had little enthusiasm. She had spent her life in New York, and for her the continual hustling through the great three-dimensional networks was a way of life. It was only in her exile that she realized she had never been outside buildings for most of a day before, that she had never gone for a leisurely stroll through wild grass before, and she had never gone swimming outside before. More than that, although she had lived her life in a network where over twenty million people like her were also hustling around, and where she was seldom out of shouting range of at least a hundred people, almost her entire life had been spent in loneliness. Yet here, among allegedly simple folk who hated everything her previous life had included, where she could not even speak the language, she had found friendship. In terms of goods, these people were paupers, but as people they were rich beyond her dreams. In New York for the evening meal Easters rushed west, Westers rushed east, Lowers scampered eagerly upwards, Uppers descended trendily downwards, always moving, always going somewhere else in search of that elusive taste. Here, they cooked. Beth was beginning to feel that she did not want to return to the world where fleeting shadows darted ever faster in the vacuous search for that which had no substance.
Beth was quite morose as she entered the ballroom with the handsome Kazakh officer whom she believed she would never see again. Aqmet was married, yet the family had adopted her, and without a sideways glance from anyone. There had been no advances, and all in the community knew that. The wife had always greeted her with open and unreserved friendship, yet there was no reason for them to even like her; she had done nothing for them. She had wanted to pay them, but they had been highly offended, and she had never tried that again. As the orchestra struck up, and the pairs began gliding around the room, Beth saw the wife give a cheery wave, and was then asked to dance by another officer. Then she was lost in the music and the movement, and for a moment she forgot New York.
The memories quickly returned as the dance stopped. There was a fanfare as one of the guests of honour arrived. Beth peered through the crowd, and the sight took her breath away. A heavily medal-bedecked officer with great bands of red running down his uniform, with sashes, and with one decoration the size of a saucer, marched onto the floor. Beside him, in an opulent gown of pink, tastefully broken by the ice-cold glint of two quite enormous sapphires, was Jennifer Munro.
"Who's that?" Beth gasped.
"The soldier's General Streckov," Aqmet replied enigmatically. "He was to lead the gallant Earth defences in the event the M'starn landed here."
"But the medals," Beth gasped. "He must have –"
"Does he look a hundred and fifty years old?"
"No, why?"
"Because that's how old he'd have to be to have earned any," Aqmet spat contemptuously. "He's awarded them to himself for undeniable gallantry on the parade ground and behind the desk."
"But there must be some reason for them?"
"Next time you see the Commissioner in uniform, take a look for medals. You'll look a long time, and she's the outright top officer. If she can't get them, how do you think he did?"
Beth did not even try to answer. She watched as these two began to lead the next dance, she watched Jennifer laugh with a totally easy familiarity, and she watched Streckov's wife take a seat and glare with unbridled animosity as her husband's hand lowered itself down Jennifer's back, and Jennifer pushed herself closer to him.
Chapter 17
It was on Mars that perhaps the greatest celebrations occurred, for at the same time the great space battle was being fought in the asteroid belt, the ground troops attacked the base at Syrtis Major. The settlers were confident of victory; so confident that Misako Shibatu herself was asked by the troops to command the western tank squadron, with some practical advice from her bête noir, Griffith. At first Misako refused. She had no experience, and it was difficult to see why her presence was so important. What eventually changed her mind was a visit from a workers' delegation.
"Take it," Groza said. "You've earned it."
"But I don't know the first thing about tank warfare!"
"Neither do they," Groza shrugged, "but there won't be a tank battle. It's a symbolic honour."
"A what?"
"The sheep need a shepherd," Groza shrugged again. "Dunno why, but they see you as some sort of Joan of Arc."
"But I'm nothing of the sort," Misako protested.
"I know that," Groza snorted, "but I also know you know it. The settlers need a symbol to follow later, someone to build legends out of. Take those tanks, and it'll be you."
"Make a legend out of me?" Misako laughed. "That's impossible! There's nothing special about me."
"Doesn't matter. Read your history books. Many of these so-called legends were the most obnoxious scum imaginable, and others were boringly ordinary until events thrust them forward to become legends."
"But I don't want to be a leader," Misako protested vigorously.
"That's why you must," Groza almost pleaded. "For a while anyway you'll be trying to do a job, and not satiate an insufferable ego."
"That's interesting," Misako said, after a moment's thought. "And what makes you think I won't get to be insufferable?"
"No guarantee," Groza said, "except so far you haven't, which is more than I can say for all the other contenders."
"And why are you doing this?" Misako asked. "I thought you hated authority and anyway you've objected to nearly everything I've done. Why the change?"
"Don't kid yourself," Groza retorted. "I'll keep protesting, believe me. But as long as you keep the way you are, nobody'll listen, except you. It's when you begin to get insufferable and stop listening, then they'll listen."
"I don't believe this is happening."
"It is, and we need you," Groza almost implored. "If you think you don't want to be leader, stop and ask yourself what some of the alternatives could be like. Think of the worst ones, then do it."
Misako thought for a moment, then nodded. "All right," she said. "I'll do it. If only to make things harder for you!"
* * *
McDonald had argued strongly against Misako taking this risk. It was so important, he said, that the settlers had a leader in reserve, in case the attackers were destroyed. For the attack was not without risk, and the timing was not accidental. The attack itself was part of Gaius' strategy to try to split the M'starn fleet. Once attacked, it was expected the Brownshirts would signal for help; it was hoped a small number of ships would be detached from the M'starn fleet to assist. Gaius undertook to destroy these ships, but if the M'starn detached too many, and the settlers could not take cover, there was a possibility that the entire settlers' forces could be destroyed.
"If the entire forces are destroyed," Misako commented,
"the revolt is over. We don't have the capacity to build more tanks, and I have no idea what we could do next."
"You could hold the rest together," McDonald urged. "You'd find a way."
"No!" Misako shook her head slowly. "If this fails, then I have made a terrible mistake. Someone else must then lead."
"But there's nobody else!"
"There's always someone else," Misako countered, then broke into a smile. "In any case I don't believe we shall fail."
"You can never tell," McDonald shook his head, "and we have no defence against the M'starn space ships."
"I have faith in Gaius," Misako smiled serenely. "He will not let them through. In any case, I believe the danger is minute, even if the M'starn do come through."
"Minute!"
"Indeed. They won't come until they receive the signal, and then they'll take hours to get here. We shall launch a surprise attack on the Syrtis Major base, allow the signal for help out, then overpower the base. By the time the M'starn get here, we shall be in total control. I doubt the M'starn will destroy their own base."
"They might," McDonald said. "And why take the risk?"
"Then we shall have to take cover, just in case," Misako beamed.
"Take cover? Where?" McDonald asked in frustration.
"There's a strong rumour the base at Syrtis Major is a mine," Misako smiled. "That suggests there's a hole in the ground. Also, the Brownshirts have had the same problem we've had. They couldn't know that Gaius wouldn't destroy their base from space. My guess is they'll have some pretty good underground survival facilities."
* * *
So Misako went. Following the great tank battle, the prisoners were dispirited and the information flowed freely. They were terrified of the coming retribution and they would do anything to minimize their personal exposure, even to the point of detailing the entire defences of Syrtis Major. McDonald insisted that the settler's attack be able to be mounted as soon as feasible. Both Misako and Haruhiko fully supported this view, so the tank squadrons were sent out again, this time to make the long trek to Syrtis Major.
The route was simple; they followed the InterMars Highway until just past the settlement of Sabeus, they then passed to the east of the crater Bouguer and headed north east until they reached eighteen degrees north, when they headed east passing to the south of the crater Antoniadi, the crater wall defining a line which they followed as far as the crater Balder, then they continued east. The overall effect of this manoeuvre was that they could approach the crater above the Brownshirt settlement from the north, the one direction the Brownshirts might not suspect, and the one direction from which they would be totally obscured by the crater beside the base.
They arrived at the northern side of the crater wall at mid afternoon. A portable dome was quickly erected in a cleft in the crater wall and the tanks and dome were quickly camouflaged. Small scouting parties were then sent out to ensure that adequate warning was received about opposition activity. By the time their position was secure, the troops fed, and the equipment checked and, where necessary, repaired, it was near midnight.
"Haruhiko. Come and hold me," Misako whispered, as she looked through the window of the dome across the black of Syrtis Major. The faint outlines of the terrain could barely be seen in the starlight; nearby, a frost-fog blurred detail.
"Black and desolate, isn't it?"
"It has its own beauty, even at night," Misako murmured, as she made way for Haruhiko to come more closely to her side and see the view.
"Thinking of the comforts of the base?"
"Perhaps, but I'm glad I'm with you," she smiled, and wrapped her arms around him. "Darling, hold me. "
"Of course. What's wrong?"
"I'm just a little frightened."
"What of?" Haruhiko asked, as if his pride had been pricked. "You know I'll capture those weapons."
"I know you will. But that's not what I'm apprehensive about. It's not about the battle, because I don't think the Brownshirts will even fight."
"Then what?" asked a puzzled Haruhiko.
"What will we find?" she asked.
"Just a bunch of collaborators and traitors," Haruhiko scoffed.
"Yes, but some of those will have been friends, perhaps, before. Certainly acquaintances. Many of the troops will have relatives there. So far, we think of them as objects, but what happens when we see who they are?"
"They're traitors. Worse, they're scum," Haruhiko said simply. "They get what they deserve."
"But suppose your brother was one?"
"I don't have a brother."
"Then suppose Akiro had been one. What would you have me do with him?"
"He wouldn't. No Japanese would."
"Darling, you mustn't say that. We mustn't ever fire up those dreadful race issues that plagued Earth. Promise me you'll never say a thing like that again!"
"It's true, though."
"Promise!"
"All right. I promise. But Akiro was a patriot, and it's wrong to –"
"But suppose he was? What would you have me do with him? I know he wasn't, but the question will be relevant to someone. Do we want to have brother hating brother? For how long?"
"We can't let the traitors go unpunished," Haruhiko commented. "To do that would also betray those who have undergone so much hardship."
"I have sensed the feeling," Misako said. "Most of this party expect very severe punishment for the Brownshirts."
"Just think what they were going to do with you," Haruhiko said calmly, but firmly. "Most others have been in a similar position, or have had relatives in a similar position. You may be able to forgive, but many others will find it harder."
"I know," Misako said glumly. "But whatever we do, we have to ensure that the hatred is killed. Perhaps now you'll see why I'm frightened."
"We shall deal with things as they arise," Haruhiko said quietly. "We've come so far, I know we can't fail now."
"But you can understand why I'm frightened?"
"I understand," Haruhiko said, and he pulled Misako towards him and kissed her firmly. "I think at last I understand why Groza wanted you to come."
"I really am afraid," Misako said. "Remember, we'll not only find what they've done, but we may find documents outlining what they intended doing."
"And when we do, the Council will sit and decide what to do about it. It's not just your problem, my dear. It will be a shared problem, a shared decision, and a shared responsibility. And if we feel crimes have been committed, we shall have trials, where the guilt or innocence can be proved in the open."
"Then, my fellow councilman," she said, and kissed him lightly. "What can we do with those we find guilty? We don't have prisons on Mars."
"In some ways, Mars is a natural prison," Haruhiko replied. "Give them a dome, give them work to do, and feed them only if it's done. They won't escape, because they can't live without the community support."
"You seem so confident of the future, my dear. Don't you have any doubts at all?"
"I have no doubts Mars will be a better place once the Brownshirt scum are defeated," Haruhiko said firmly.
"But can we make it a place where we can feel proud of what we've done?"
"Of course," Haruhiko assured her, "provided we do what we know to be right at the time."
* * *
A council of war was called the following morning, for a decision was required as to whether to attack then, or wait for M'starn activity. In the event there was no decision to take; a message came through from the observation outpost on Ariel that ships were emerging from the base on Miranda. The settlers were to launch their attack immediately. The defence to the Brownshirt base consisted of some dispirited infantry and two M'starn beam weapons that were placed in fortifications half way up the crater wall. Haruhiko and an infantry squad were to leave at once to traverse the western crater wall to capture the weapons centre. Misako approached Haruhiko as the squad was preparing to leave.
"Take care, my love. This should b
e the last time you have to fight. Please be careful."
"I shall be careful, and I shall be successful," Haruhiko assured her. "I shall think of you all the time."
"I'd rather you thought of the task," Misako smiled. "I don't want to lose you now."
"And I don't want to lose you. That is why I shall be thinking of you. You shall be my inspiration."
"I don't quite see –"
"My dear, if we don't knock out those beam weapons, it will be I who does not see you again. For you, I must succeed."
* * *
The squad set off as planned, and as they began climbing the crater wall, Misako turned away from McDonald. A small tear ran down the side of her cheek. Haruhiko had no time to think of such things. While the crater wall offered few difficulties, he had a considerable distance to travel, and it was important to keep up a good pace. The smooth sandblasted rock was easy to travel across, but there were a number of places where the rock was brittle, where small rockslides had occurred, and where special care was needed. These spots were easy to find in the daylight, but Haruhiko knew that if they did not reach their objective by twilight, their whole plan could be in jeopardy. But his men were fit and hardened to crater climbing, and the team made excellent progress, so much so that it was latish afternoon when they caught their first glimpse of the Brownshirt base. The squad then took cover by lying against the rock and covering themselves with slightly sticky polyoxysilane sheet that had been placed sticky side down into the Martian dust. They then waited until the light began to fade.
It was almost sundown when they left their cover. The defences consisted of two nests of beam weapons one hundred meters above the domes, linked by buried telephone cable with an observational outpost a further eighty meters above, and two hundred meters to the east. Even with this information, Haruhiko almost collided with the observational post, so well was it concealed. Fortunately, those inside were not very alert. Haruhiko found the telephone line as it emerged from the wall of the observational post, then he signalled to the man carrying the telephone equipment. They carefully put pins into the insulation, connected their own phone, then severed the line. Haruhiko left two men to deal with those inside the post, and the rest of the squad made their way down the slope, which was now in near total darkness.
