Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Second, because we said so,” I added. “You need to learn. Once you learn, you will understand the basis for this training session – and others – far more thoroughly if I simply told you the answers. In time, you may find yourself teaching others.”

  I grinned, nastily. “Now we’ve done the easy part,” I said, “we can turn to the harder part. How many of you have ever flown a starship before?”

  The helm console, rigged to simulate actual flight operations, lit up at my touch. “It’s time to see if you can dock us with Orbit One – who wants to go first?”

  Evgenia took the helm, and then Yianni, and finally Allen before we ran out of time and they had to go to their political briefing. If I’d been commanding a real starship, I would have probably had them strangled and then thrown out of the airlock; they crashed the ship into Orbit One twice and avoided disaster by the skin of their teeth seven times. A starship handles like a wallowing pig near an orbit station…and the slightest mistake could be disastrous.

  “You’ll be doing that again and again too,” I said, at the end. “If you don’t learn that quickly, you’re going to get us all killed.”

  Afterwards, I laughed, even though it wasn't funny. God help me, but I was growing to like them. How had Lieutenant Hatchet coped with it?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Outside observers have often wondered at the discrepancies between the United Nations Infantry, the United Nations Specials, and the United Nations Marines. The first is a blunt instrument used for the violent suppression and occupation of enemy worlds, the second is a covert/special forces operations unit and the third is used mainly in space. The discrepancies are explained by differences in their training methods. The UN invests a great deal in its Marines, while Infantrymen are regarded as expendable. This goes a long way towards explaining the treatment of civilians by the infantry. They know that their masters regard them as worthless.

  -Thomas Anderson. An Unbiased Look at the UNPF. Baen Historical Press, 2500.

  I hit the deck hard enough to hurt, even though the padding.

  “Uncle?” Master Sergeant Erwin Herzog asked sweetly. “You’ve not been keeping up with your practice, have you?”

  I rubbed my jaw slowly, knowing that it could have been a great deal worse. I was almost certain that he’d pulled that punch, and yet it felt as if someone had smashed the entire starship into me. The contest bout had been my idea, but I hadn’t had the time to keep up with training on the Devastator and I had slipped, badly. He’d knocked me down in just under a minute.

  “Uncle,” I agreed, thoughtfully. I ached in several places and I hadn’t landed a single punch. I’d treated him as I’d treated Jase and his friends down on Earth…and that had been a mistake. When he'd dared me to challenge him, I had accepted…and realised, too late, that it was a trap. He’d knocked me down with ease. “That was sore.”

  “Hard training, easy mission,” Erwin said. It was a Marine saying that had never made its way into the Infantry, or, for that matter, the Academy. “Easy training, hard mission.”

  “Touché,” I agreed, sourly. “How are the new Ensigns coming along?”

  “Three of them will make…adequate martial arts artists in a few months if they work at it,” Erwin said, helping me to my feet. “The other two won’t make anything other than journeymen at best, I’m afraid. Too much reluctance to try to land the killing blow, or perhaps too much fear of pain. We could beat that out of them if they went to Camp Currie, but here…well, there are limits to what we can teach them.” He shrugged. “I trust you’re not thinking of challenging one of them to regain your pride?”

  I started to sputter before realising that I was being teased. It wasn't as if I were short on possible sparring partners. There were the other Lieutenants, Sally herself – although that would have bent regulations almost to breaking point – and, of course, Andrew’s infantrymen. I could see several of them gathered around a Marine and an Infantryman, watching them pushing at each other. It looked more like a hazing rite than an actual bout, but Andrew and a pair of Marines were watching them carefully. We had already had one bloody fistfight and didn’t need a second one.

  The relationship between the Marines and the Infantrymen was an interesting one, I’d decided. The Infantrymen were determined not to be outdone by a bunch of overpaid pretty boys – their words – while the Marines were equally determined to rub the Infantry’s collective nose in their own inferiority. I would have bet on Erwin’s twenty-one Marines against all of the Infantry Company if it were a normal under-trained Company, but Andrew was apparently a good officer. Their stats, according to Erwin, were better than anyone had a right to expect.

  It had also led to an interesting series of encounters. Some had challenged others to grudge matches, while others had produced illegal decks of playing cards and engaged in cross-unit fraternisation. The joint training had broken down into several fistfights before their respective leaders restored order, but an hour later Andrew and Erwin had been arm-wrestling for superiority, or a point of order. Neither of them knew how to quit and they’d managed to sprain each other’s wrists. The Doctor had made a number of sarcastic comments about how many small injuries she was being called upon to treat, but after a few days, they seemed to come to a halt – mostly. The two leaders were also very inventive when it came to punishment duty.

  I smiled, thinly. If nothing else, the starship was cleaner than it had been in years.

  “No,” I assured him, as I staggered over to the dressing bench and pulled off the tunic I’d been wearing. Being naked in front of men and women had bothered me when I’d gone to the Academy, but I was used to it by now and wasn’t particularly surprised when Erwin joined me. I was glad I hadn’t seen him naked before I’d been volunteered for fight training. I would never have dared raise a hand to him. “They’re not ready for that, are they?”

  “Be glad of it,” Erwin said, as we stepped into the showers. The warm water sluiced off the sweat and drained away down towards the recycler. Cleaning that was yet another punishment duty. “I’ve served on ships where the Captain used force to keep his people in line. It never ended well.”

  I nodded as I washed away the dirt and stepped out of the shower. Water is always at a premium on a starship and while we could, in theory, mine an asteroid or a comet for water ice, it wasn't something the Captain would want to do if it could be avoided. It was against regulations to remain in the showers for more than two minutes, unless you had special permission, but I wasn't surprised when Erwin stepped out of the shower just after me. We’d all learned to time it properly, although the shower in the Ensigns’ Wardroom was configured to only give them two minutes and nothing more.

  “So,” Erwin said, afterwards. We were alone in the changing room. “I understand that you have something to talk to me about?”

  “Not here,” I said, quickly. I’d broached the issue with the Senior Chief and he had insisted on approaching Erwin personally. I hadn’t attempted to prevent him. They’d been friends for years. The Master Sergeant might not listen to me, but he’d listen to the Senior Chief. “Can we talk in your quarters?”

  “I don’t have any fancy quarters,” the Master Sergeant said, dryly. I flushed, remembering that all of the Marines shared a single wardroom. The Infantry had had to be spread out, but the Marines practically lived in each other’s pockets. They shared a closeness that even the best Ensigns never achieved. “Your cabin, John?”

  I nodded and led him through the corridors, before we turned and entered my cabin. I took a moment to wave him to a chair and turn on my music player, accessing a file of heavy metal music. Midgard Metal, the singer and songwriter, wasn't entirely to my taste, but anyone trying to listen in to our conversation – I was almost sure that the cabins were probably bugged – would have some problems. It was one of the ideas I’d learned from the Heinlein files. They even included instructions on how to subvert and overthrow the government, something that had co
nvinced me that the system worked better than Earth. I couldn’t have hoped to find information like that on Earth.

  “All right,” I said, as the strains of Darkness Falls Upon Her Heart echoed through the cabin. “Listen carefully.”

  I outlined everything that had happened at Heinlein, from the deaths of innocent civilians to Ensign Gomez’s rape and my determination to overthrow the system before it killed us all, or led the Earth to ruin. I knew I was taking a chance, but I trusted the Senior Chief…and we’d need the Marines to help us. Without them, it would be much harder to seize the fleet. Without the fleet, the entire plan was dead in the water.

  “Interesting,” he said, when I’d finished. “What do you plan to do afterwards? Declare yourself ruler of the galaxy?”

  “Hell, no,” I said, angrily. I didn’t want the job and I knew no one who could be trusted with it, even if the UN’s experience suggested that interstellar government couldn’t work. “We just end the war – without the Peace Force, the UN can’t fight the war – and declare peace. We pull the infantry off Terra Nova and prevent further invasions, from anyone.”

  I didn’t bother with emotional appeals. Erwin would either go along with it or he would refuse. If the latter, we were in serious trouble. If something happened to me, now, the entire plan might be blown out of the water.

  “It might work,” he agreed, finally. “You know, of course, that some form of interstellar trade will have to continue?”

  “Yes,” I said, flatly. I suspected that Heinlein, Williamson’s World and maybe even Iceberg would corner the market on interstellar freighters, but that hardly mattered to me. Freighters couldn’t be used to wage war. If we prevented anyone else from building warships and didn’t launch any invasions ourselves, interstellar society wouldn’t collapse under the weight of the war.

  “And there’ll be a bloodbath when the locals realise that the Infantry no longer has access to orbital weapons,” Erwin added. “What will you do about that?”

  “Withdraw them as quickly as possible,” I repeated. “I don’t think we should be supporting them any longer than it takes to withdraw them. The local resistance fighters might even back off and allow us to pull them off the planet, along with any collaborators the UN created over the years. God knows, we can even try them for war crimes.”

  “If I agree to help,” Erwin said, “that’s my price. I want genuine war crimes trials for the infantry. I don’t want my Marines contaminated by their…attitude to war.”

  “I understand,” I agreed. Personally, I would take some delight in finally seeing General Hoover and the rest of his staff brought to book for war crimes against civilians. They’d probably use the following orders defence, but that meant little to me. They shouldn’t have followed the orders in the first place.

  “Did they have any choice?” Erwin asked, when I said that out loud. “What would have happened to them if they had refused to follow orders?”

  I scowled. “Point taken,” I said. The Generals would probably have been reduced in rank. The common Infantrymen would be court-martialled and shot. They hadn’t had much choice…but I still wanted to hurt them for what they’d done. “Will you help us?”

  “I’ve been in the service for thirty years,” Erwin said. His voice darkened. “I’ve seen hundreds of my friends lost, their lives squandered, because some moron back on Earth screwed up and sent them to die. I know other Marines who feel the same way too, but really…what could we do about it? The Brotherhood couldn’t help us.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Do you trust the Brotherhood?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. I trusted the Senior Chief, and yet…there was no way to know who was really on the far end of the computer network. The Brotherhood seemed to be composed of shadows and little else, although I was unsurprised to realise that Erwin was a member. His friend had probably invited him to join as well. “I think that I’d prefer to keep them out of it if possible.”

  “A wise choice,” Erwin agreed, slowly. He looked down at his hands for a long moment. “I believe that most of the Marines would join without hesitation, if given an opportunity. Do you want me to speak with them?”

  “Not now,” I said. “I want you to talk to them after we leave Botany. I don’t know where Andrew’s sympathies lie and I don’t want to risk opening communications with him yet.”

  “I think he would have made an excellent Marine,” Erwin said. He grinned, suddenly. “If you tell him I told you that, I’ll have to kick your face in. You could probably convince him to join afterwards, but at the moment…well, he’s just got to worry about his men and Botany. It’s going to be a hardship posting.”

  I made a mental note to review the files as soon as I could. “I understand,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “One final point,” Erwin said. “What about the Captain?”

  I hesitated. I hadn’t been allowing myself to think about that, but he was right. The Captain would be the ideal leader for our conspiracy, except his family tied him to the UN and the status quo. I would have followed him anyway, but how could I ask him to lead us against his family? His family had gotten him the command and ensured he kept it, despite his unconventional outlook and methods. He wouldn’t want to wage war on them, or even, as I intended to, prevent them from waging war against anyone else.

  “Nothing,” I said, shivering inside. How could we remove the Captain from power? I knew that there was no choice, but to relieve him, somehow, yet…I couldn’t move against him. I’d have to cross that bridge sooner or later, and yet I hoped it would be later. Perhaps something else would intervene. “We can’t risk telling him anything.”

  Erwin nodded and left.

  I spoke to the Senior Chief that evening and compared notes. I hadn’t realised just how much the non-commissioned ranks saw of the ships, or how they worked. The Senior Chief knew hundreds of people who might be willing to help us, if approached properly. The Brotherhood might even be used to vouch for some of the recruits, without trusting them completely. He agreed with me that it would be a bad idea to approach the Captain, although he insisted that the Captain was not to be harmed.

  “It may not come down to a mutiny now,” he said, “but if it does, you can remove the Captain without hurting him. Don’t even think about killing him.”

  “I understand,” I said. I didn’t want to lose the Senior Chief and I understood. Captain Harriman wasn’t someone who could be killed without hesitation. “I won’t hurt him if it can be avoided.”

  He scowled at me, but accepted the point. “Very well,” he agreed. “One final point, then. I think that you should speak to Sally. She needs something to keep herself going.”

  “But…” I began, and then shook my head. I’d already decided that we wouldn’t approach any of the Ensigns, but I’d known Sally back when I’d been an Ensign myself and knew she could be trusted. More to the point, she was growing more and more withdrawn by the day and might even be considering jumping ship. I needed her and not just to supervise the Ensigns. It was at times like this when I missed Kitty. She would have known just what to say. “I understand, Chief.”

  Sally almost laughed at it when I finally approached her. “You’re telling me that you intend to overthrow the government?” She asked, when I told her – in general – of what I was planning. I didn’t mention either the Marines or the Senior Chief. Her laugh would probably have earned her a demerit under other circumstances. It was high-pitched and hating. “John, it’s nice of you to care, but…”

  I looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in a while. She was sullen and withdrawn in many ways, her eyes dark and filled with shadows. She was teaching newcomers what they needed to suppress her career and go onwards, while she remained behind, a permanent Ensign and then a lowly officer on a fuelling station or a transport. I saw the rage boiling behind her eyes and the frustration that might turn to violence. Sally had nothing to live for – now.

  “I do care,” I sai
d, and took her arm. She stared at me. Touching a lower-ranked officer like that was illegal and could land me in deep shit – I had no powerful friends like Frank Wong had had. “Sally, we can change the world, if we plan it carefully and strike when the time is right…and I’m going to need you to do it. Will you help?”

  “I want them dead,” she said, angrily. She looked up at me, her gaze tinged with suspicion. “There, I said it. Are you satisfied?”

  I smiled, suddenly realising what she thought. “I wouldn’t be talking to you to the strains of Captain Ward and his Quest for Grim Reaper if I wanted to record this conversation,” I pointed out. “Sally, it’s no joke.”

  “Prove it,” Sally hissed. “What kind of indiscretion are you trying to lure me into? Who’s jerking your cock anyway? Why would you, of all people, work for Intelligence, or Security?”