by John Bowers
His tongue slid out to moisten his lips, and he squinted, as if to concentrate on her words. “Yeah?” He sighed. “And what’s that?”
“Yew haven’t raped nobody yet.”
He closed his mouth and swallowed, to moisten his throat. His eyes focused, and he frowned.
“I don’t see the point in that,” he said. “Why do I need to rape somebody?”
She tickled his cheek with a finger.
“Because they ain’t a-gonna trust yew until yew do,” she said reasonably. “Yew kin do ever’thing else right—track fugitives, arrest people, he’p catch the terrorist—ever’thing—but yew will always be a suspect until yew prove yew’re on our side. And the only way to prove that is to take that one step that says yew will do whatever it takes to serve the new Vega. Whatever it takes.”
Hans stared up at her, fully alert now. His eyes were narrowed, his forehead creased in a frown.
Norma shrugged. “I’m just a-tellin’ yew,” she said. “Yew better think about it.”
Chapter 26
Monday, 31 March 0200 (PCC) – Reina, Vega 3
Erik slid into the booth across the table from Valyn and rubbed his icy hands. The air outside was already freezing, but at least the sky was clear—no more snow at least until tomorrow.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked quietly, staring at the bowl of soup she was eating. “I thought we agreed—”
“No, you agreed. I didn’t commit one way or the other.”
“Scorn it, Valyn, you could get in so much shit…”
“I already am. Colonel Royer hammered me today. I can barely walk.”
Erik frowned, fighting the anger that boiled in his chest.
“Why did he do that? Do you think he knows something?”
“No.” She shook her head, her blond tresses swinging. “He’s just frustrated. He was a complete bitch all day.”
Erik sighed. A waitress arrived and he ordered a cup of tea. The minute she was gone he turned back to Valyn.
“So why did you want to see me? Sounded urgent.”
“It is.” She glanced to the side to make sure they were being ignored. The largely college crowd was self-absorbed and noisy. She looked at Erik again. “I have a new target for you.”
Erik’s eyes widened. It was the first time Valyn had used that language—she had given him names before, but usually several at a time, and he had decided whom to kill. Now she was deliberately steering him.
“Tell me,” he said breathlessly.
“I saw it in a merge file this morning. The VYC has changed its training program.”
“The VYC?”
“Yeah, the same group that recruited your brother.”
“So what’s changed?”
“They now require second-year candidates to commit three rapes if they want to stay in the program.”
Erik stared at her blankly. “They didn’t do that before?” He had assumed—or at least feared—that Hans had already done something like that.
“No. Before, it was all humanitarian stuff. Public relations stuff.” She leaned forward confidentially and lowered her voice even more. “The thing is, they don’t tell the new recruits any of this. A boy has to be in his second year before the demand is made, and he’s sworn to secrecy. If he tells anyone, his female relatives will get a free ride in a slave ship.”
Erik sat silent, pondering. This information was huge, but what could he do with it?
“How did this come to your attention? I thought your files were mostly incident reports.”
“They are. This morning I got data on six rapes that happened over the weekend, carried out by second-year VYC boys. That was new, so I did a little unauthorized digging, and I found the rest.”
“Oh, scorn, Valyn, that’s dangerous!”
“I know. But I’m getting sick of taking it in the shorts on Colonel Royer’s whim, or just to relieve his stress. If I’m going to get fucked, then let there be a reason for it.”
Erik’s tea came and he stirred honey into it, spinning the spoon slowly as he tried to filter his thoughts.
“You know, I can’t blow up a bunch of Vegan boys unless the public knows why,” he said. “Right now people think this is the work of the sword of Sophia, but if I kill Vegans…”
“Don’t hit the kids. Hit their SE bosses. That shouldn’t be so hard, should it?”
He wrinkled his nose, thinking.
“Where did these rapes take place? Any specific area?”
“They were all within a mile of the VYC camp. One was inside a residence, the others in a parking structure near the South Mall.”
“Has any of this been made public?”
“No. The constabulary has been warned off. The only civilians who know are the victims and maybe some of their friends.” She stared at him a moment, then laid a warm hand over his cold one. “How are you going to handle it?”
“Don’t know yet. I’ll think of something.”
* * *
FADE IN
INT – RHN NEWSROOM – EVENING
Kelly Nobel sits at the anchor desk, prim and sexy as always.
Kelly Nobel
…reporting live from the Confederate barracks on Nord Gate, here is Erika Sebring.
CUT TO
EXT – CONFEDERATE BARRACKS – EVENING
Erika Sebring stands outside the main gate of the Confederate barracks. A guard post is visible in background. Erika is bundled against the cold.
Erika Sebring
Kelly, the Confederate Army is on increased alert tonight following the terrorist bombing of four military billets last night. Sirian Elite Guards have issued orders to triple the manpower on all military installations and billets, in the hopes of preventing a recurrence of the violence.
(turns to look behind her)
As you can see behind me, all the floodlights are on at the Nord Gate Barracks and where normally two men stand guard at the front gate, now there are six. There are also foot patrols around the perimeter, though you can’t see them at the moment.
(looks back at camera)
In an astonishing development, Royal Holo News received a mysterious v-mail this morning from someone claiming credit for the bombing. The text of the message is classified, but the v-mailer signed himself…the Sword of Sophia.
(a pause)
Reporting live from Nord Gate Barracks, I’m Erika Sebring, Royal Holo News.
FADE OUT
* * *
Erik Norgaard walked into the River Pub an hour after leaving Valyn at the University Café. Somewhat to his surprise, no one challenged him on the walk over; he’d half expected military patrols to be sweeping the streets. The pub was brightly lit and noisy as usual, but attendance was much lower than normal, even for a Monday night.
He ordered a beer from Leif the bartender and stood sipping it. He didn’t see Sgt. Jeff Kilburn anywhere, but recognized two or three others he had met. He saw Bridget and another waitress he didn’t know—they had hired someone—and then Sallje appeared at his side. She slid up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, her eyes bright with knowledge.
“You’ve been busy,” she whispered.
He wrapped an arm around her but didn’t answer.
“Want to buy me a beer?” she suggested. “That way we can take a table and talk.”
He nodded and ordered her a drink, then they moved across the room to the table near the fireplace. It was the warmest spot in the pub, and still too hot for everyone else. Erik was still chilled and didn’t mind the heat.
“So what’s the mood in here?” he asked.
She glanced around warily. “Giddy. They’re laughing and joking, but they’re scared.”
“How can you tell?”
“The shit they laugh at isn’t funny. It’s pure stress relief, nothing else.”
Erik nodded and sipped his beer. He felt a deep sense of gratification.
“They have no idea how lucky they are that you work here,�
�� he said. “I think most of them were here Friday night.”
“So what are you gonna do next?”
“I dunno. And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Too dangerous for you. If anybody found out you knew and didn’t sound the alarm, you’d be on a slave ship the next day.”
She stared at him with rounded eyes, then shuddered.
“Don’t tell me anything!” she said. “I don’t want to know.”
“Good. Better for both of us.”
She sipped at her own beer, which looked more like colored water than a real brew.
“Sword of Sophia?” she asked quietly. “Is that what you call yourself?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“It was on the news twenty minutes ago.”
He shook his head with an embarrassed grin.
“That’s what the priestesses think is going on. I figured I would play along.”
“Well, I think it’s working. My mom’s neighbor is a big Temple fanatic, and she thinks you’re Sophia’s retribution. She says the Sword is going to get rid of the Sirians.”
Erik’s grin faded. “Tell her she’s wrong. This will sting them a little, but they’ll never leave. At some point I’ll have to stop, if they don’t catch me first.”
“Stop? Why?”
“If they can’t find me, they’ll start using other tactics. Like shooting civilians.”
“Why would they do that?” Sallje was shocked.
“My dad is a big fan of Terran history. He says that totalitarian regimes use all kinds of brutal tactics when they get frustrated. The ancient Nazis used to shoot ten civilians when one of their men was killed. If that didn’t work, they would shoot a hundred. In some cases, they murdered entire towns.” Erik sighed. “Sirius was colonized by people like that. They’re all nice and friendly on the outside, but when they get mad, they get mean.”
Sallje lit a cigarette and blew the smoke away from Erik’s face.
“Too bad. I’d love to see you win this little war.”
“Not a chance. But it does feel good to hit back, even for a little while.”
* * *
“Are yew out of yewr fucking mind!”
Edgar Steinbach was standing in the middle of the newsroom when Erika breezed in the door, screaming at the top of his lungs. His face was red, contorted, hideous. She had never seen him so worked up.
“What’s wrong, Edgar?” she asked casually as she breezed around him and dropped her gear on her desk.
“Yew know what’s wrong, yew fucking bitch! YEW JUST GOT ME FIRED!”
Erika spun to face him, her eyes calm, fully aware that everyone in the room was peering over cubicles at the two of them.
“I thought your job was to bring ratings up,” she said matter-of-factly. “You watch—tomorrow they’ll be through the stratosphere. You’ll be a goddess-scorn hero.”
“I’ll be in a fucking stockade! I’ll be living on water and cockroach sandwiches while they decide when to shoot me!” He advanced on her and shoved a finger in her face. “I didn’t say whether to shoot me, I said when! Yew have fucked me over royally this time!”
Erika gazed at him calmly, a calm she didn’t really feel. She had known her revelation on a live feed would have repercussions; she just wasn’t sure what form they would take. She hadn’t quite expected this.
“Poor Edgar,” she cooed. “Such a tough job, walking on the edge of a razor blade day after day…with no shoes.”
“God damn yew! God DAMN yew!” He was practically sobbing as he backed away. “Yew have no idea what yew’ve done! No fucking idea!”
He turned and meandered back to his office, head down, shoulders slumped. Erika watched him go, a sense of alarm rising in her chest. With a glance at Viktor, who looked as shocked as she felt, she followed.
Steinbach was just sitting down at his desk when Erika entered his office and closed the door.
“What’s going on, Edgar? It’s not that bad! They’ll chew me out and threaten me, and maybe even fire me—but you’re in the clear. That’s why I didn’t tell you about the v-mail, to protect you.”
He stared up at her, tears in his eyes.
“I made a decision,” she told him, “to put that on the air, come hell or high altitude. But if I told you first, they could nail you for not stopping me.” She bent over his desk, placing her hands flat on the surface. Her long blond hair swayed practically in his face. “Edgar, they can’t punish you for not stopping something you didn’t know about!”
He blinked miserably, his lips compressed.
“Yew don’t know them, Erika,” he mumbled. “They’re evil bastards, the SE. Yew don’t know them at all”
She straightened up and stared at him, forcing herself to remain calm.
“I think I have a pretty good idea. I’ve been through their slave process, from one end to the other. I know what they’re capable of.”
“Yew only know it from a woman’s point of view,” he said. “That’s bad enough, but they don’t usually kill women, especially Vegan women. Yew were merchandise; yew had a cash value.” He shook his head miserably. “I don’t.”
She stared at him in silence, suddenly at a loss.
“Have they called you?” she asked.
“Not yet. But they will.” He sighed wearily. “They will.”
Erika pulled up a chair and sat down. This was something brand new—she had never in her life imagined she would actually feel sorry for Edgar Steinbach.
“Who is it you’re afraid of?” she asked. “Croswell?”
“No, not him. He’s a pussy compared to Royer. Colonel Royer is the cold blooded one. That motherfucker eats nails for breakfast and drinks acid for heartburn. If yew piss him off, yew’re dead.”
Erika hadn’t heard the door open behind her, but now it closed and she was aware of a third person in the room. She glanced up with a start—Brandon Marlow was looking down at her.
“He’s right,” Marlow said. “Royer is one hard-nosed son of a bitch. He can trace his family straight back to the ancient Nazi Party on Terra.”
Steinbach sat up in his chair, staring at Marlow in terror.
“I didn’t know she was gonna do that,” he said quickly. “Yew gotta believe me, Major—I didn’t even know about the v-mail. Swear to God!”
Brandon Marlow returned his gaze evenly, with no hint of his emotions on display.
“What about it, Erika?”
“The v-mail was waiting for me this morning,” she said. “I didn’t tell a soul. I knew Edgar wouldn’t let me run it, so I did it on my own.”
Brandon frowned at her. “Why would you do that?”
She smiled thinly, not sure whether to tell him.
“The people have a right to know.”
Edgar’s fist hammered his desk. “I told yew the other day, the public does not have a right to know!”
“Yes, you did tell me that, but this time you’re wrong. The sword of Sophia is a Vegan prophecy, an ancient text, and millions of Sophia worshippers think it applies to this time, right now.”
“Are you trying to encourage this guy?” Brandon looked less than pleased.
“Some people will be encouraged, for a while. But you’re going to get him, Brandon. Eventually you’ll get him. And when you do, the prophecy will come crashing down. People who believe in that stuff will think the prophecy failed, and they’ll stop looking for some mythical ‘sword’ to avenge them.” She held his gaze for a moment. “I’m thinking long-term here.”
Brandon stared at her a moment, then nodded slowly. He turned to Steinbach.
“That’s what we tell Colonel Royer,” he said. “I authorized the information and you ran it. Your ass is covered.”
Color slowly returned to Steinbach’s face. “Yew mean it?” he whispered. “Yew ain’t gonna hang me out to dry over this?”
Brandon laughed.
“Hang you out to dry? Because she went beh
ind your back?” He shook his head. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Steinbach slumped in his chair again. “Ohhh,” he moaned. “Oh, Christ!”
Brandon turned to Erika.
“You better show me the v-mail. You said the text was classified. I’ll look like a goddamn fool if I don’t know what it says.”
Erika hopped to her feet and hurried out of the office, Brandon on her heels. He grabbed her arm, spun her around.
“Erika—don’t pull this shit again. If any more v-mails come in, you bring them to me immediately. Understood?”
She gazed into his stern eyes for a moment, unsure whether to be intimidated. Then her eyes sparkled, and she made a kissing motion with her lips.
“Whatever you say, O Wise One.”
Chapter 27
Tuesday, 1 April 0200 (PCC) – Reina, Vega 3
As dusk settled over the city, the temperature hovered near freezing. Winter still had a month to go, but the frigid air suggested it might last forever. Fresh snow filtered from a leaden sky, covering the frozen slush with several inches of soft powder. Streets were icy, but hovercars created flurries as they passed.
It was considerably warmer inside the parking structure at Reina South Mall. The air was cold but not freezing, and shoppers moved quickly from their vehicles into the mall and out again. Foot traffic was light, but steady. Inga Nordstrom, sixty-four, emerged from the lift on the third sublevel with two bags of purchases, perching carefully on her spiked heels as she navigated the dim parking area to find her car. The Spring Festival was only three weeks away, and holiday shoppers had taken all the good parking slots, forcing her to park her convertible in a corner. She shivered slightly in her too-tight dress as her heels clicked across the starcrete, fumbling for her key pod with one hand while hanging onto her bags with the other. Her heavy fur coat made her movements clumsy.
Inga had just reached her vehicle and started the turbine when two shadows trotted up behind her. She never saw them coming, never even heard them, until the first one grabbed her. She cried out in surprise, too startled to realize what might be happening. But the one who grabbed her clamped a hand over her mouth, his other arm wrapping around her belly. She felt herself being dragged, and terror seized her heart. She dropped her bags.
