Ghost Black

by Matthew S. Cox

  Kree cowered behind Risa’s arm at the look he gave her.

  Risa glared at him. “Maybe you should cool off.”

  “Maybe Huang should play his own fuckin’ game instead of hidin’ behind a little girl.”

  Kree stuck her tongue out at Ralek.

  Huang picked up the controller. “Fine, fine…”

  “He only likes that character on account of her boobs hanging out.” Donovan laughed. A few seconds later, his expression became serious. “You mean assassinations? You think it wrong?”

  Risa nodded. “Yeah.”

  “If you had the chance to sneak into an enemy location and take out one or two key personnel to prevent a lot of other people from dying, would you do it?” Huang moved a tiny four-legged robot into an unoccupied space.

  Risa gnawed on a hardening nugget. Already, it had lost any chicken-like flavor. “I’m not an assassin.”

  “Would you though?” Osebi folded, revealing a hand with nothing good. “Plant a bomb and take out an entire facility, or sneak in and kill the commander. Kill one or kill dozens to stop them from doing the same to us.”

  She sighed. “If I had to pick one, of course I’d kill the one person over the many. I…” Can’t tell them this is all C-Branch bullshit. “There’s got to be some other way. Besides, I’ve exceeded my limit for near-death experiences in one lifetime. I’ve got Kree to think about now.” Fuck it. “Look, the MLF is…” Damn. Risa lifted Kree off her lap and placed her in Osebi’s. “Watch her please. I need to see Maris.”

  “You got it.” Osebi winked.

  Risa stood, shot Ralek a warning glare, and walked out. She headed back downstairs, crossed the command and control center, and jogged down the corridor past Garrison’s room to the office at the end. Much to her surprise, Garrison wasn’t there.

  General Maris looked up from his terminal as she strode in. “Risa.”

  She stopped in front of his desk. “Why are we lying to them?”

  He raised both eyebrows. “That’s a little vague.”

  “Our people. About what the Front is. The only reason to keep them in the dark is so they won’t hesitate if they are ordered to attack a UCF target.”

  Rusty springs creaked as he leaned back in his chair. “Your assumption is only partially correct. If the enemy captures any personnel, their not knowing is proof against interrogation. If they genuinely believe they are part of a resistance movement, even a hostile telepath cannot know.”

  She exhaled, tapping her foot and thinking. “Someone high up is PVM. They agree with you about not wanting to strike friendly targets. Shiro and his team were sent here to kill you because you’re not playing their game.”

  “So who is it you think is on our side?” He tilted his head to the right.

  Risa studied his neutral expression for a moment. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not inclined to say. After everything that’s happened, I don’t trust anyone.”

  General Maris chuckled. “You never did like me.”

  Her lips curled in a wistful smile. “I used to think you were so full of yourself. Some revolutionary leader with a bunch of pissed off teenagers who decided to call himself a general.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I didn’t know you really were one. No wonder you got so pissed. I guess it was hard to resist choke-slamming me like some shithead private.”

  For the first time since she’d known him, General Maris leaned back and laughed with apparent genuine amusement. “Don’t think I hadn’t thought about it… Though, the idea became less appealing after you got wired up.” He shook his head, mirth fading to a look of somber regret. “I felt bad for you, girl. I was worried your misdirected anger would cause mistakes. Then I started to question your sanity. Eventually, I learned about Raziel and wondered about your loyalties. This Raziel is an enigma. It may be chance that his and our goals align now, but I always questioned what kind of pawn you had become.”

  Risa chuckled. “I don’t think he’s talking to me anymore. No idea what he’s doing. Probably looking for someone else to use.”

  Maris exhaled. “Great.”

  She gazed into his eyes for a few minutes in silence. “Are you who you say you are? Are you really a General in the military intelligence division? Tell me you’re not an ACC spy.”

  “I’m not Corporate.” A trace of anger flashed in his glare, though she got the feeling it wasn’t aimed at her. “I am who I claim to be.”

  Risa sank into a rickety chair facing the desk, and recounted her tracking down Lars. At the revelation of his affiliation with the ACC, Maris scowled. “… and I walked off like some gang punk.”

  “You should’ve gotten angry at him sooner.”

  She shrugged. “He barely rated as mildly annoying before. Then I found out he’s the one who almost killed Gen.”

  He grumbled. “How did they miss him?”

  “You’re PVM, aren’t you?” She smiled at her lap.

  Maris remained quiet for a moment; his slow laugh broke the silence. “I was not expecting it to take you that long to connect those particular dots.”

  “General Everett.” Risa’s gaze crawled over the junk on his desk: inert hand grenade mounted to a wooden pedestal, ammo magazines for a ballistic pistol, two combat knives, and a melted e-mag. “He’s either going to pull the Front back in as official, or disband it. Either way, it won’t be the same.”

  Maris studied the ceiling. “Perhaps it is not a bad thing. It would be nice to see the sky again.”

  “Yeah.” Risa stood, took four steps to the door, and paused. “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He tapped a finger on the desk. “It was only a matter of time before an operation like this spiraled out of control.”

  She let her head sag forward. “No, I mean for being shitty to you for so long.” She chuckled. “Heh. Listen to me… You’re the last person in this place I ever thought I’d respect.”

  “No one stays an angry young thing forever. And for the record, I didn’t send you to Bliss to get rid of you. I’d hoped you could pull it off.” He sighed. “I suppose we both suffer from the curse of hindsight. Someone was trying to take you out of the equation. I should’ve told them it was a suicide mission.”

  “It was, and I still agreed to go. You didn’t force me.” She stood straight. “Call it even?”

  “Done.”

  She glanced back at a bright smile spread over his dark face. “Take care of yourself, General.”

  “You too, kid. You too.”

  Butterflies swarmed in her gut as she walked out. Whatever Everett had in mind for the Front was going to be big. Maybe Maris could keep everyone from getting buried up to their eyeballs in a shitstorm.

  Maybe the crap will only come up to our necks.

  17

  Marionettes

  The control center hung in thick silence as Risa emerged from the hall leading to the command offices. Thirteen men and women, a handful not even eighteen yet, peered at her over a mass of dim-glowing holographic panels. She made eye contact with one after the next; expressions shifted among curiosity, fear, and confusion. A subtle thrum of active electronics vibrated the air, the loudest sound in the room, save for the occasional sharp intake of breath when someone noticed jade green in place of glowing violet light. The youngest looked at her with expectation, waiting for instructions.

  Risa stared down at the floor, thinking about how Maris had always called her ‘lieutenant.’ She’d never taken it as anything but ‘boys playing soldier,’ but he’d probably been serious.

  Her leap from the disintegrating Strand onto the hull of a tiny fighter aircraft flashed in a daydream. She clenched her hands in fists and managed with a moderate degree of success to hide the tremble. The harder she tried not to think about how close she’d been to death, the more she couldn’t put it out of her mind.

  Some people lose their nerve. I crumpled mine up and threw it. She walked to the base of the curved ramp, scanning the group
of faces tracking her every motion. They all believe we’re fighting for a ‘free Mars.’ She looked down, unwilling to shatter that many dreams. I went back there and no screaming happened; they know something’s not right.

  A second after her boot hit the ramp, the whispering started. Some wondered if she resigned or finally got sidelined due to ‘mental issues.’ One woman asked the guy seated next to her if Maris had forced her to give back the ‘expensive military cybereyes.’ Several commented on her ‘defeated’ look.

  Primus safehouse, the largest, held the ‘brain’ of the MLF. Only Maris, and possibly Garrison knew how many others existed for sure. Risa guessed at least seven. Most consisted of ten to twelve people embedded in small settlements. It made sense to her now why they didn’t have anything set up in any of the other major cities in the UCF. Why bother. We aren’t at war with ourselves.

  She backed away from the ramp and walked up to the cluster of desks; murmurs and whispers quieted at her approach. What’ll happen to everyone? These people tapped into a wide array of networks. Some infiltrated via cyberspace, some maintained contact with Front personnel hidden within resistance cells located in ACC-controlled territories. Their best feedback on what happened in Bliss had come from operatives inside. She wondered if they’d gotten out in time. No one, not her, not the MLF, and certainly not the ACC expected the Cryomil explosion that wiped most of the complex. Her sources indicated the explosion only torched military facilities, that all the civilians lived on the ground in the Melas Chasma. The ACC claimed tens of thousands of civilian losses. Risa had been inclined to believe Maris’s numbers, but the specter of doubt whispered across the back of her neck.

  All eyes focused on her. Four or five people looked about ready to run for cover at her approach.

  “Some of you have been with me out there.” She glanced at one of the younger teens. “A couple of you just arrived, but you’ve all gotten involved with something bigger than any one person. We all want the same thing: to live on a Mars not controlled by people from another planet, where decisions are made to benefit everyone and not only the powerful. We want control of our own destiny.” Murmurs of agreement rumbled among the group. “Many of you have spent the past few years whispering about me when you thought these boosted ears of mine couldn’t hear you.”

  Someone whispered, “Shit.”

  Two men leaned back as if to run away.

  She smirked at them. “I’m not Cat-6. I was gullible and I was angry. It’s true that I’m going inactive, but it’s my choice. I don’t believe in angels anymore.” Motion high and left drew her attention to Kree at the railing one story up. “At least not ones with wings.”

  “You get hit with a psio?” asked Caerys, a woman with cobalt blue hair in a pixie cut. The voice had been on her comm so many times, yet she wouldn’t have recognized her. “You seem so different.”

  “Worse. Truth.” Risa leaned on the nearest workstation. A panel to her right showed an image of a street that could’ve been lifted from a post-nuclear-war entertainment holo. A stream of Cyrillic characters scrolled along below. “There’s no point keeping you all in the dark anymore. This”―she waved around―“isn’t what you think it is.”

  Little footsteps tapped down the ramp, then scuffed over dirt behind her. Kree clung to her side. Osebi waved from overhead. She smiled at him, and he walked off.

  “What are you saying?” asked Gevan, perhaps the oldest of the command center staff. “Is that why you’re flying a desk?”

  Risa put a hand over Kree’s, against her stomach. “Have any of you ever wondered why we rarely strike UCF interests, and when we do, it’s always a decommissioned base or a target with unusually low propensity for fatality?” She inhaled, held it a moment, and let the air out. “Two words: plausible deniability. I didn’t get the green light to spill, so if you want it straight, ask Maris. What I thought was an angel was an AI who hacked my headware. What I thought was a revolution wasn’t. What I thought happened to my father didn’t. I don’t know what the future’s got waiting for us, but I do know I’m not prepared to blow people up based on an endless firehose of dustblow.”

  “Wait, you’re saying this is… we’re sanctioned?” Caerys gasped.

  Risa smiled. “I didn’t say that. You inferred it. I can neither confirm nor deny. The Corporates treat their citizens like expendable inventory. There is a worthwhile fight on Mars, but it’s not going to be won by dividing our efforts.”

  She took Kree by the hand and walked upstairs. Discussion filled the air behind her, people trying to make sense of what she’d said. Sam and Brett, two other kids she’d almost blown up in that shaft, zoomed by, eager to get to the armory and Kendrick’s supervision while they learned how to shoot. Risa gave the boys a sour look once they’d passed. Why are we training ten-year-olds to fight? This is wrong. Kyle rounded the corner about ten seconds later, yelling ‘wait up.’

  Kree seemed to shy away from them.

  “What’s wrong?” Risa looked down at her. “You haven’t been playing with them lately.”

  The child’s sad face turned angry. “They think you’re scary. They think I’m weird because I’m not scared of you.”

  Risa’s heart felt heavier. The same shadow of rumor that kept the adults at arm’s length from her had spread over Kree, and had the same effect on the other kids. Did I make a mistake bringing them here? She heaved a mental sigh. I couldn’t leave them out there begging and stealing. “Come on. Their loss.”

  Kree grinned.

  They wandered the corridors for some time. Memories of a childhood spent in these tunnels came back piece by piece. Hide and seek with Genevieve, the terror she’d felt the first time someone asked her to carry something across the facility to Osebi. Not until the man had freaked had she realized she’d been holding live hand grenades. Talo, the guy who’d asked eleven-year-old Risa to carry them, died three years ago during an operation. Osebi had beaten him bloody for giving explosives to a child, after which Garrison read Talo the riot act. Risa choked up at the memory. Of course, Garrison didn’t know the truth back then, but his fatherly anger made so much sense under the lens of hindsight. Maybe some part of him had always suspected?

  Is that why he was reluctant about the test? He was afraid he wouldn’t be my dad.

  She choked up. Her mood worsened each time she passed someone in the hallway and thought about the first time she’d seen them. Some were ex-military, though now she wondered if maybe they’d been assigned here on purpose, and weren’t as ‘ex’ as they claimed. Others, like half the people she’d rescued from Benton Mining Company’s prison camp, had criminal records. Violent offenders and murderers―at least the ones able to focus their proclivities on an approved enemy―were handy for a ‘terrorist organization.’ Not so much for military intelligence.

  What’ll happen to them all if Everett shuts this down?

  The more she roamed, the more she remembered―and the more it seemed her father had tried to keep her separated from the violent part of his life. What parent wants their kid to grow up as an insurgent? People here die so often.

  “Ow,” said Kree. “You’re smashing my hand.”

  “Wanna go for a ride on a Foxbat?” Risa smiled and relaxed her grip somewhat.

  Kree narrowed her eyes. “Is that outside?”

  Risa nodded. “Yes, but it’s outside. Wide open space. No one can sneak up on us.”

  The child shivered in her boots for a moment, bit her lip, and looked up. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, but didn’t fall. “O-okay.”

  Filled with hope, Risa led her to the motor pool chamber. Kree amused herself by jumping over hoses and cables strewn about the floor as thick as her thighs. When they reached the garage, Risa headed to a row of four Foxbat quads, two of which had side-mounted pulse lasers. She approached the nearer of the two unarmed ones and walked around, conducting a brief inspection. Content it had no significant damage, she threw a leg over and sat. Kree approach
ed the side of the four-wheeler and leaned up to look at the console.

  “Do we need helmets?”

  Risa grinned. “We should… but kids aren’t supposed to be here, so they don’t have any small enough for you. The air is fine outside Primus, and I’ll drive slow.”

  Pria, a sylph of an almost-eighteen year old, slid out of a Prowler’s underbelly and climbed down the nine-foot tire to the ground. She gave Risa a quasi-hostile look and approached. Kree glanced between them for a moment before tilting her head.

  “Why doesn’t that lady have boobies?” Kree blinked.

  Risa clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. “People come in different shapes.”

  “Heard you’re chickening out,” said Pria, arms folded. “That true?”

  “It’s complicated.” Risa pulled Kree up into the seat in front of her. “I’ve got more than me to think about now.”

  Pria set her hands on her hips. Dark lubricant smeared almost every inch of her mostly bare chest. A scrap of cloth across her breasts, a shredded remnant of an old T-shirt, had soaked black. Crimson fatigue pants hung low on her hips, burdened by six pockets full of spare fuses, bolts, nuts, small batteries, and other tools. “That kid’s exactly what you should be thinking about. Thinking about giving her the Mars we all deserve.”

  Risa pulled her NetMini from her belt and swiped at the file system until she found the recording of her ‘work’ at Bliss, the file she couldn’t bring herself to watch. Living through it once was plenty. She wagged the device at Pria, transferring the file to the ’mini in the girl’s back pocket. “Watch that and tell me again how much of a chicken I am.” Her expression hardened. “Takes some nerve to sit here tweaking wrenches all day and call me a coward.”