Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason

by Christopher Nuttall

  “I understand, sir,” I said, finally.

  “Good,” Shalenko said. He smiled, softly. “Captain Harriman would be proud of you.”

  “He wouldn’t,” I said, bitterly. I knew it was the truth. Captain Harriman had never bullied any of the grey colonies, or even acted like he was the lord of the universe around the colonists. He would never have agreed to kill thousands of innocents just because the unnecessary war was being lost. “He’d spit on me if he were here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Although no one would have admitted it, after the failure to crush Heinlein’s resistance in three years of fighting, the UN was in a desperate position. They could not supply the troops on the ground with everything they needed, while they were unable to prevent the insurgents from using their (seemingly limitless) stockpiles of weapons to take the offensive and hit the Infantry hard enough to force them to back off. As a new year dawned, the UN Generals realised that they were on the verge of losing the war.

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

  As soon as I returned to my ship, and escaped Deborah’s incessant demands to know what I had been discussing with my former commander, I held a meeting with the Senior Chief and the Master Sergeant. I broke several different regulations – at this rate, the UN was going to have problems deciding exactly what they were going to shoot me for – and explained exactly what we’d been ordered to do. I had hoped that either or both of them would be able to suggest a way out, but neither of them could think of anything. We hadn’t made contact with all the Marine units yet and if we failed to take the starships, our plan would probably fail. A battle in Earth orbit might be disastrous.

  “I know how you feel,” the Senior Chief said, “but there’s no choice. All you can do is avenge them later.”

  I found myself considering all kinds of drastic actions, but nothing seemed likely to work. I checked through the communications my fellow plotters had sent, looking for signs of hope, but the only optimistic thing I saw came, ironically, from the plan to invade Williamson’s World. The UN was scraping the barrel to draw up so many starships, but it allowed us a chance to get our own people onboard before the official launch date for the invasion. I couldn’t understand why, if things were so bad, the UN was launching another invasion, let alone announcing the ETA in advance. I wondered if they’d done that for Heinlein and if that explained the reception we’d had, but in the end it didn’t matter. The invasion was not going to be launched if I had anything to say about it.

  My dark mood found expression in inspecting the starship before we departed Earth and opened the wormhole. I inspected everywhere a First Lieutenant might be expected to cut corners and found, much to my relief, that Muna had been doing a good job. We were fit for exploration, or a battle, or even murdering hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians. Muna was also handling the training of the Ensigns and I watched through the surveillance systems as she and the Senior Chief put them through the retch gas treatment. Their faces looked pale and wan when they emerged and I hoped they drew the right lesson from their experience. They couldn’t trust anything on the starship, even something as simple as a spacesuit. It made me wonder what we’d do if a new Ensign was smart enough to check the telltales first. Probably give them a dose of the gas anyway.

  I took my command chair on the bridge – it felt like mine now, rather that something I’d stolen from its rightful owner – and watched as we opened a wormhole and fled into the pocket dimension. It was tempting to decide to turn renegade now, but we were so close to launching our coup that there was little point. Captain – Commodore – Shalenko had been right. The population of Valentine were going to die anyway. I could at least make sure that they didn’t die in vain.

  “Wormhole sealed, Captain,” the Pilot reported. System Command had offered me a new Pilot, but I’d decided to stick with the one I’d inherited. He knew the Jacques Delors and how it handled and a newcomer would have had to relearn everything. “Jump Drive powering down now.”

  “Thank you,” I said, tapping my console to check the readouts. We were sliding down a long tube heading towards our destination – or at least that was how I envisaged it – and now there was no turning back. No starship had ever tried to leave the wormhole early and lived to tell the tale. “First Lieutenant, you have the bridge.”

  I spent the next three weeks studying my own starship, obsessing over each and every detail. The Engineer shared my obsession and tolerated my intrusions into his domain, watching over his shoulder as he checked each of the replacement spare parts carefully, just in case there was another bout of sabotage. I was particularly worried about the sealed components and encouraged the Engineer to reject any that didn’t meet his high standards, but some of them couldn’t be tested until they were locked in place. It was yet another illustration of how far the rot had settled into the system. The UN couldn’t even punish the workers too harshly, for fear they’d commit suicide or try to escape. The non-conscript workers weren’t much better. They had no real incentive to perform well.

  And, unfortunately, I had to endure Deborah’s presence. She seemed to feel that she should eat dinner with me at least once a week and kept inviting herself to my cabin. I had wondered, as absurd as it seemed, if she were making a play for me, but if she intended any seduction it was a political one, rather than a personal one. I hadn’t realised just how deeply she believed in the entire concept of the United Nations, yet she was still able to justify mass murder to herself. I wasn't going to allow her to realise that I meant the UN great harm, but still…I wanted to strangle her physically. It was less than she deserved.

  “The traitors who set up Heinlein were trying to prevent their sons and daughters from being enfolded in the tender arms of the United Nations and its commitment to ensure that all enjoyed an above-average style of living,” she informed me, one day. I hadn’t realised until I’d worked on logistics how impossible an ‘above average’ style of living for everyone was. “They refused to pay their dues to society and chose, instead, to steal from the patrimony of The People.”

  I could just hear the capital letters thudding into place. I was never sure how seriously she took the shit she was sprouting, but I knew that far too many people believed every word. I’d also seen worlds that worked differently to the UN. Even Terra Nova, with its endless ongoing civil war, had a higher standard of living than most of Earth. That might change if the war raged on and the UN pulled out, but for the moment…I remembered my last visit home, back before I’d boarded Devastator, and shuddered. In hindsight…

  The UN had promised people the world. It had promised desperate people that if the UN took control of every aspect of their lives, it would create a paradise on Earth. It had promised to soak the rich to feed the poor, but no matter how much they’d leeched away, it had never been enough. They had taxed businesses out of existence, throwing thousands more unemployed onto the streets, who then had to go on welfare themselves. If that wasn't enough, they created regulation after regulation, and used that as an excuse to throw more people out of work…they’d even defined objecting to the system as a sign of mental illness and sent anyone who complained to hospital, preventively. Soon, no one dared to object, even in private. Anyone could be a police spy.

  And none of it had mattered. The rich had paid vast bribes to be left alone, or had integrated themselves into the developing society. The poor had found that their cities were crumbling away anyway, no matter how much they were told that their lives had improved. And the bureaucrats? They’d discovered that under the system they had created, however accidentally, they had more power than they had ever dreamed possible. Something had to break.

  I silently toasted Heinlein with my wine glass. Deborah smiled. She thought I was toasting her.

  An hour before we entered the Heinlein System, I ordered the Jacques Delors to yellow alert and inspected every inch of the starship, again. If the UN was ready to t
ell us that the situation was so bad, the odds were that it was actually much worse. I’d already had drills running throughout the trip, but now I ran through a final set of drills and then ordered everyone to get something to eat. We might be emerging into the midst of a battlefield.

  “Wormhole opening, sir,” the Pilot said. Captain Harriman had allowed me to take the helm back when we’d reached Terra Nova, but I couldn’t afford to have an untested Ensign at the helm now. If the Resistance knew what we had come to do, they’d hold nothing back. If they took out Devastator…the UN would have to either send another monitor or alter a missile warhead for use against ground targets. “Emerging…now!”

  The display lit up as our sensors started to probe nearby space. Captain Shalenko had picked the wormhole coordinates himself and included them in sealed orders, so it was probably impossible for the Heinlein Resistance to locate us, but they knew – if they knew about us – where we had to go. They could have their remaining starships hiding near the planet. Powered down, they would be barely detectable except at very close range.

  “Red Alert,” I ordered. The crew raced to battle stations at once. “Tactical?”

  “No enemy starships detected,” Muna said, from her position. Her voice was calm and very composed, but she didn’t know what we had come here to do. “I am picking up a data download from UNS Peacekeeper.”

  “Update our records,” I ordered. Peacekeeper was a heavy cruiser of the class before ours. It had been extensively upgraded to continue to serve, but even so, it had weaknesses. I knew that the Resistance had destroyed other ships of the same class. “Communications?”

  “I am picking up a direct link from Devastator and George Robertson,” Sally said. I’d placed her on communications, mainly because I needed a trusted officer there. I was relieved to see that she’d gotten along well with Muna, although I knew it had to hurt. Everyone else in our class had made Lieutenant, at least, by now…and Roger was commanding the Kofi Annan. His Admiral Uncle must have pulled more than few strings to set that up. “The Commodore is ordering us to follow him in.”

  “Pilot, keep us at medium separation range,” I ordered. There was no real chance of accidentally ramming the monitor, although part of me seriously considered opening fire and hang the consequences. “Tactical, keep watching for enemy starships.”

  Heinlein’s orbit looked, if anything, more crowded than it had back when we’d invaded. There were more remote orbital weapons platforms glaring down at the planet, backed up by a handful of starships. I suspected, although there was no way to know for sure, that most of the starships had been recalled to serve in the fleet destined for Williamson’s World, or maybe anti-piracy escorts. The UNPF just wasn't building enough starships to replace its losses. Even if all the colonies surrendered tomorrow, the UN would still have problems garrisoning them all and rebuilding the interstellar communications network. It didn’t bode well for the future.

  I found myself looking at the remains of Heinlein’s orbital shipyards, feeling more than a twinge of envy. If we’d had those working at full capacity, we’d have enough freighters to rebuild the transport network, but the workers wouldn’t work for the UN. Even if Heinlein managed to escape the suffocating clutches of the UN, it would still have to concentrate on building warships, rather than pulling the isolated colonies back together. If the UN fell apart – if we failed – a new interstellar dark age was almost inevitable.

  “System Command welcomes us into the system and has cleared us for orbital entry,” Sally said, suddenly. I doubted that System Command was that keen to see us, not if they knew what we had come to do. I felt, again, the insane urge to throw caution to the winds and open fire, but what good would it do? We were within range of those mighty orbital batteries. “They’re asking just what we’re doing here.”

  So they don’t know, I thought, coldly. “Ignore it,” I ordered. “If the Commodore wants to explain our presence, he will do so.”

  Nothing rose to bar our way as we settled into orbit. I relaxed slightly on the bridge and called up the data download on my console. It was worse than I had realised. Entire tracts of the planet were, to all intents and purposes, completely out of control. Valentine was occupied by the resistance now and any UN Infantry unit that went into of the city never came out again. The orbital weapons platforms were firing every day, and yet…the situation still worsened. The UN had to be out of its collective mind! It had this on its hands and yet it wanted to invade another world?

  “The Commodore is informing us to watch for surprises,” Sally said. “The Devastator is about to fire.” She stopped. I could see the question forming in her mind before she pushed it down. “They’re firing.”

  I looked up at the display. The monitor had never fired a nuclear planet-bombarding missile while I’d been onboard and I was curious, despite myself. It streaked away from the starship and raced down into the planet’s atmosphere. I watched its trajectory and thought about intercepting it first, but the George Robertson and the orbital weapons platforms would turn on us at once. It reached Valentine and detonated high over the city. The flash would be visible from orbit.

  “My God,” Sally said. “Sir, I…”

  “As you were, Ensign,” Muna snapped. There was no real anger in her tone. She was as shocked as the rest of us. There was no live feed from the city, but my imagination could fill in the details from the records we’d been shown of the cities on Earth that had died under nuclear attack. Heinlein built good buildings and it was possible that some of them would survive, but the population would be almost wiped out. I wanted to see, to rub my own eyes in what had happened, but there was no point. “Captain…?”

  “Leave it,” I growled. I knew that the Heinlein Resistance wasn't going to let this go unpunished. “Sally, raise the Commodore.”

  “He’s already signalling us,” Sally said. “We’re to escort the Devastator to a safe distance from the planet and then cover her as she heads home, before following her ourselves.”

  “Understood,” I said, bitterly. When the remainder of the crew heard about this, they’d either be angry, or delighted. Deborah’s speeches had focused on how monstrous Heinlein’s residents were for weeks and I was starting to understand why. If the enemy were to be dehumanised, the UN could do anything they liked to them and the population at home would cheer. “Helm, take us out, following the monitor.”

  Nothing happened as we reached the wormhole coordinates and watched Devastator vanish behind a closing event horizon, but I was morbidly certain that thousands of unfriendly eyes were watching us from a safe distance. Intelligence couldn’t even tell us how many starships the Heinlein Resistance had left, but they believed that there were at least five separate starships still active. Four more had been reported destroyed in encounters with the UNPF. If they massed all five together, they might have a chance to take out Devastator before we could stop them.

  “Devastator’s gone, sir,” Muna said, finally.

  “Yes,” I said. I’d been lost in my own thoughts…and on the bridge. I was glad that Deborah wasn't there. She might have noticed…no, I was giving her too much credit. “Helm, set course for home. We have a long voyage ahead of us.”

  I spent the remainder of the flight home wondering what form Heinlein’s revenge would take. They couldn’t – wouldn’t – allow that to pass, I was sure. I had to launch my own plan quickly, in hopes of preventing a greater disaster, but I couldn’t prevent them from launching their counterattack. I tried to figure out some way of contacting the Heinlein Resistance, but I could think of nothing. After what had just happened, I wouldn’t be surprised to find myself on their hit list, with a price on my head. They’d be out for my blood.

  The grey man accepted our report without demur when we reached Earth. They must have had a press report ready already, for they were filling the airwaves before we even reached Orbit Nine. I read the first two stories – recognising the name of one of the reporters who had travelled on t
he Devastator, years ago – and then threw the datapad across the room. He wrote about what we’d done, but somehow he almost managed to make it sound justified. It was enough to make me feel sick.

  “We have most of the people we need contacted and ready to move at your command,” the Master Sergeant said, that evening. “We could move now, but I’d prefer to wait at least another week. EarthStar One is going to be the real problem.”

  I nodded. EarthStar One controlled all of the defences in Earth orbit. It also didn’t allow any UNPF personnel to serve permanently on the base. It was controlled by a very secretive, very loyal organisation, who were paid well for their loyalty. Roger might have gone to serve there if he hadn’t passed the Academy entrance exams. We had to knock it out, yet it wouldn’t be easy, even with the entire fleet under our control. We studied the problem and came up with the only solution.

  Two days later, the Heinlein Resistance struck back.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Earth was commonly regarded as invulnerable, and it was true enough that no one had committed an act of aggression in the Solar System – as opposed to Rock Wars between RockRats – since the UN had assumed responsibility for the defence of the planet. Indeed, most analysts believed that it was impossible. They missed the self-evident fact that no colony possessed a force capable of striking Earth, unless they chose to disregard the possibility of retaliation. A suicidal attack, as always, was the hardest to deter.