Firemask

by Chris Bunch

  Other soldiers were close to other missile and gun stations. No one got inside the turrets or pits, remembering the antiaircraft site that'd been obliterated on that first day of the Musth occupation. Three weeks had passed since then, and the Legion had long since run out of fingernails to dine on.

  Over Camp Mahan circled layers of Musth— aksai on high cover, a mother ship underneath it, then two velv , another layer of aksai , all escorting a single highly polished wynt .

  "Time enough," Njangu said. "Now, is it gonna be catastrophe or just simple disaster?"

  The wynt grounded, and Wlencing and his staff got out, entered Force Headquarters.

  It was catastrophe, although not quite complete. Wlencing told Rao he did not propose to completely dissolve the Force. It was to be reduced to a single battalion of light infantry, two thousand men, which would serve as backup to the Planetary Police in the event of riots or emergencies. All aerial capabilities except about fifty or so Griersons for transport were to be grounded.

  Headquarters would be trimmed down appropriately.

  The Zhukov Gunship Battalion was to be dissolved, its ACVs scrapped. The Artillery Detachment, except for two Shrike batteries, was to be broken up. All heavy weapons were to be turned in, to eventually be scrapped.

  The disarmament was to be complete in sixty days.

  Rao and his staff listened to Wlencing's orders, stone-faced.

  When the Musth finished, Rao asked, "What is to be done with the excess men?"

  "I thought the anssswer would be obviousss," Wlencing said. "Dissscharge them asss civiliansss, which they were before."

  "A good percentage of them aren't from Cumbre, and have no place to go," Angara said.

  "That isss not my concccern," Wlencing began, and an aide leaned close, spoke quietly.

  "I have a posssssible sssolution," he then said. "The minesss on C-Cumbre will now be operated at full capac-ccity. Thossse sssoldiersss who don't find placesss will be accepted as minersss."

  Rao considered arguing, knew it would be useless. Without reply, he rose and stalked out, his staff flanking him.

  Wlencing's aide waited until the room was empty, then asked: "Since we shamed them, will they now fight?"

  "No," Wlencing said. "We have beaten them down too far. They might have been capable of a last stand, if we had attacked them at first. But using wisdom, we ate at them, allowed our presence to become commonplace, and now it is too late. They are truly beaten."

  "Will they obey your orders?"

  "What choice do they have?"

  "Well?" Caud Rao asked his staff. On scrambled screens were the commanders of the dispersed regiments.

  "They didn't leave us any options, did they, sir," Mil Ken Fong, head of Operations—III Section—said.

  "No," Rao said. "I hoped by stalling them, pretending we were beaten, which we would've been, we could get some time to find alternatives. I was wrong."

  "What we should've flipping done," Hedley said, "was blow Wlencing and his staff out of the sky as they were landing. That would have given us some time."

  "We don't fight like bandits, like criminals," Rao said coldly.

  "Maybe we should…" Hedley let his voice trail off.

  "So we have two choices," Rao said. "We fight… or we fold. Votes… although I'll make my own decision. I just want to see what you think."

  "We're still part of the Confederation," Angara said. "We fight."

  Rao looked at the screens, at the men and women in the command bunker. No one, not even Hedley, dissented.

  "Good," Rao said. "We'll stall as long as we can, get the word out, then hit them hard."

  "Three officers to see you. Cent Hedley with Alt Jaan-sma and Aspirant Yoshitaro," the Force Command tweg announced through the intercom.

  "I should have expected them," Rao muttered.

  "Pardon, sir?"

  "Nothing. Show them in."

  The three officers entered, and Hedley saluted.

  "I assume this is important?" Rao asked.

  "Yes, sir," Hedley said. "We want to offer an alternative to fighting or giving up."

  "Why didn't you mention it during the staff meeting?"

  "It might not be palatable to some of the officers, sir," Hedley said. "It's actually these two men's ideas."

  Rao nodded to Garvin.

  "It's fairly simple, sir. We surrender… or at least give in to their demands."

  "Let them break up the Force?" Rao said.

  "Let them break up what they can," Yoshitaro put in. "I don't think they're fools enough to let us discharge troops into some kind of inactive reserve. But there's nothing to say those who want to couldn't join some kind of veterans' association after a few weeks.

  "Sprinkle those in every city on Cumbre, and that'll give us an intel source, and reserves we can call up when we need them."

  "We?"

  "Some of us go underground," Garvin said. "We use the dispersed locations, plus the base on Mullion Island to strike from."

  "A guerrilla war?"

  "Exactly, sir," Hedley said. "Hit 'em high, low, and wherever they aren't strong enough. Hit them hard enough, and pretty soon they'll get tired of fighting, and start wanting to talk about some kind of truce."

  "Like the 'Raum?" Rao said distastefully.

  "They came close to beating us, sir," Yoshitaro said.

  "A nasty way to fight a war," Rao said.

  None of the three answered.

  Rao considered. "Well, I don't think they'd be willing to go nuclear, not as long as they want some part of the real estate."

  "Which we can flipping give them," Hedley said. "After they're hammered some, and then we can come up with some kind of truce that'll let them save face. They'll still have their victory, plus access to the mines on C-Cumbre."

  " Aspirant ," Rao said, "you said 'we' a bit ago. Who're your fighters?"

  "Initially," Njangu said, "you discharge everybody in I&R who asks for one. Out of one hundred twenty-eight troops, about ninety want to keep fighting. Half a dozen wouldn't mind getting out, and we let them go. Keep the others wherever you want them.

  "Plus we keep the people on Mullion like we said. That'll give us some kind of security, and we'll just have to make sure that nobody, absolutely nobody, gets tracked back to them." Njangu's voice rang with enthusiasm.

  "What about supplying those bases?" Rao asked. "An army doesn't march on idealism."

  "I know where we can get credits and supplies, sir," Hedley said. "I have enough contacts with the rich to get them to kick in."

  "You assume our Rentiers are all that patriotic?"

  "Of course not, sir. But it seems the late and unla-mented Policy and Analysis Section of the PlanPolice kept files on almost everyone. I, ahem, seem to have found them, some months ago, which I didn't bother boring you with, since they're certainly of the seamiest."

  "Blackmail?"

  "Just so, sir." There was no smile on Hedley's face.

  "That's ugly," Rao said. "The whole idea's ugly. Jaan-sma, Yoshitaro, what makes you think you could get away with having your own war, at least at first?"

  "First, because we had experience with the 'Raum. No offense, and we don't mean to sound arrogant, but if the two of us had really been fighting on their side, instead of being double agents, I think we could have given Caud Williams and the Force a lot rougher way to go. Also, because humans outnumber the Musth… that's counting civilians, too," Njangu said confidently. "Sooner or later the Musth'll manage to piss everyone on the planet off, and make them into fighters, or at least people who'll help us fight. That was the 'Raum strategy, and I think if they'd had support from the people, they might've gotten away with it."

  "There'll be civilian casualties," Rao said.

  Both Njangu and Garvin nodded grimly.

  "Are you able to live with reprisals?"

  "Sir," Garvin said, "I don't see any way the Musth are going to be able to maintain the present situation, whether we're fight
ing them or not. Sooner or later, they'll overreact, and start killing civvies anyway. When they do, every time they do, we'll have another recruit."

  "That's a price that'll we have to accept," Njangu added. "Otherwise, we just end up being slaves, working on their damned mines over on C-Cumbre. And I don't think the Confederation… or Redruth… is going to jump in and play Save Our Asses."

  Rao shook his head, unbelieving. "When I was an alt , all I gave a damn about was my platoon, sport, and my mess bill. What's happened to the new generation?"

  "We grew up different," Njangu said. "Maybe things were a little closer to the bone for us."

  "I would guess so," Rao said. "A question for you, however. You seem to be willing to accept civilian dead with equanimity. Do you think you'll feel the same way the first time you see a dead woman or child? Or see the Musth strafe a village?"

  Garvin started to say something. Njangu held up his hand.

  "I'll answer that. Sir, do you think that'll be anything different than what we saw… what we did… against the 'Raum?"

  Rao grimaced.

  "That's in the past." He thought for a time, then slowly began shaking his head.

  "No. That's too much of a dream, and if it goes awry, this whole planet could be a shambles. Thank you, gentlemen, for trying to come up with something, but that's not the answer.

  "We'll stay with the original strategy and fight them where we stand.

  "That's all, gentlemen. Good luck."

  Garvin started to say something, got a hard look from Njangu, shut his mouth. Hedley saluted, and the three walked out.

  In the corridor Hedley stopped, sank back against the wall.

  "Shit," he said. "I thought for a minute we had the old man convinced."

  "So what now, sir?" Garvin asked.

  "I guess we get ready to fight, try not to get killed, and hope we're able to keep the battle going after the Force gets massacred."

  Chapter 11

  Caud Rao, with a skeleton staff, left Camp Mahan within the hour. He jumped from regiment to regiment, city to city, and filed regular reports back to Mil Angara. They were encoded—but the code was one that'd been broken by the Musth.

  Wlencing got intercepts almost as fast as Angara's clerks were able to decode the transmissions.

  All of them were much the same—Rao was successfully trying to keep the hotheads in the Force under control. Matters appeared in hand, and the Musth orders would be followed.

  Some of Wlencing's warriors grumbled, wanted action, vengeance for Aesc's murder, but the Musth leader told them not to be foolish. War, fought just for its own sake, was stupidity.

  If the Musth had achieved victory without casualties, this was the greatest triumph of all, and indicated clearly the human victory a generation ago was nothing but an anomaly.

  If these humans were all too eager to become the puppets of the Musth, this was a clear indication of what the First Cause must have intended—for The People to utterly dominate the cosmos.

  And as for revenge for Aesc… vengeance, he reminded them, was a dish to be savored at length and leisure.

  "Do you wish extraction?" The transmission ebbed, rose, bouncing from satellite station to station before reaching the Cumbre system, then further retransmitted by robot stations within the system.

  Ab Yohns considered. Part of him wanted out. It'd been a long, long assignment, and his nerves felt sandpapered. But again, what were the chances of a Larix/Kura ship being able to enter Cumbre, pick him up, and extract successfully without being detected and destroyed by the Musth?

  "Negative," he said. "I'll stick around, see what develops. You'll need a man on the ground."

  "We were hoping you would decide that," his control said. "We do need you, now more than ever before."

  "I'll expect the fee to be adjusted accordingly," Yohns said.

  "It shall be." Without formality, the com ended.

  Ben Dill strolled through the control room, set up in a hangar on Mullion Island, pausing to look at screens, control panels, sensors, cabinets. Every now and then, intent on some detail, he walked through a display terminal. Here and there the holograph was blurred, where Njangu hadn't shot pictures.

  Dill was trailed by Hedley, Kang, Heiser, and Froude. Finally he stopped, stopping them all in turn.

  "Interestin'," he said.

  "Interesting enough for you, and some others, to start training on?"

  "Hell no," Dill said. "Just a start."

  "We've built a simulator in another hangar," Hedley said.

  "You're expecting a lot from me, and whoever else is supposed to be a flyboy," Dill said. "No idea of instrument feel, what kind of readouts you get, what kind of support.

  "Sorry, gents. Not nearly enough."

  "I wish," Dr. Froude said grumpily, "you'd at least try the sim. We used more than the pictures, you know. We have projections of how the mother ships fly from our offworld detectors, combined with the fairly significant information you and others have provided on the

  aksai , and more data, theories really, from the stolen star charts."

  "Sounds like enough to get somebody killed," Dill said.

  "Only sim," Heiser reminded.

  Dill grunted, considered.

  "What the hell. It can't hurt that much to give it a run. But I don't see what any of this is going to get us anytime soon."

  "All knowledge is power," Froude said a bit pompously.

  "And when we get our hands on one of the ships," Ho Kang added, "you'll be able to get it off the ground."

  "Ben doesn't feel very super these days," Dill grumbled. "I suppose, Ho, you'd be willing to ride the ECM seat, whichever one it might be, like in the old days? Or is it hey, Ben, whyn't you go into the deep black just for drill?"

  "That's a shitty thing to say," Ho Kang said indignantly. "Since when have I ever not been willing to piggyback your dinosaur ass?"

  "Sorry," Ben said. "You're right. This waiting around for the balloon to go up's gotten me a little testy. Let's see what it's like, but I can flat-ass guarantee this sim ain't gonna be enough."

  There were almost a hundred Zhukovs on Camp Ma-han's huge parade ground, their crews at attention in front of each ACV. Their drives were humming, and their corns were on, all monitoring the 'cast from Caud Rao, a sentiment-dripping speech about how nobly they'd served, and how their service, their frequent sacrifice, would never be forgotten.

  The Gunship Battalion's colors were cased, and the battalion was declared dissolved.

  One vehicle commander and one driver doubled to each Zhukov, and, still in perfect formation, the attack ships lifted away, four aerial columns headed for the distant city of Seya, on the island of the same name.

  The Zhukov crewmen and the battalion's necessary support elements were marched back to barracks, where they were immediately granted discharges, and began cycling out into the civilian sector.

  It was a gut-wrenching moment, watched over by circling aksai and two velv . Wlencing was aboard one of the destroyer-like ships. He turned away from the screen with satisfaction.

  "Little by little, it grows," he said to Rahfer.

  The aide's head bobbed quickly.

  "It is a pity," Rahfer said, "there are no medals for a successful victory gained without any bloodshed, nor revenge for System-Leader Aesc's murder."

  "There will still be medals to be earned here," Wlencing said. "Once the humans have dissolved their fighting strength, there will be dissidents, criminals against order, to handle. There will still be glory enough for everyone."

  The Zhukovs reached Seya, and were grounded in a hastily graded compound, where heavy wrecking machinery waited. Their pilots and commanders were brought back to Camp Mahan, where they joined their fellows, awaiting discharge.

  The company given the task of destroying the gun-ships began putting out bids for various surplus items, from seats to com gear. As soon as the ships were stripped, they'd be scrapped and melted down.

 
; Caud Rao was kept fully informed about this matter, again in a code easily read by the Musth.

  No Musth reported the occasional Grierson or two flying between Mahan and Seya, if they were even observed, nor were their packed crew compartments noted.

  "Reporting as ordered, sir," Njangu said. "What's going on?"

  "Tell him," Cent Hedley told the com tech.

  "I was monitoring the standard Force emergency freq as part of my normal watch duties," the young man said. "It was just 1900 hours tonight. Someone came on, a filtered voice, so I couldn't tell if it was man, woman, or synthed, asking for a response from the Force.

  "Like I'm supposed to do, I responded.

  "The voice said, and I'm quoting precisely, Message for Njangu Yoshitaro. Respond on this frequency after message ends. Broadcast will be repeated nightly.' It sent that twice, then shut down. I didn't have time enough to get a locator on it, don't have any idea what it could be."

  "Thanks, technician. You're dismissed," Hedley said, waited until the man had left the office.

  "You got any irons in the fire?" Hedley said. "Running any agents that might've blown their normal contact?"

  "Sir," Njangu said honestly, "I'm just getting ready for the shitstorm to come. I haven't and won't develop anybody until the fog lifts a bit."

  "Hmm."

  "Maybe I better be around a com sometime tomorrow night?"

  "Wouldn't do any harm," Hedley agreed.

  "'Message for Njangu Yoshitaro. Respond on this frequency after message ends," the colorless voice said. "Broadcast will be repeated nightly. Message for Njangu Yoshitaro. Respond on this frequency after message ends. Broadcast will be repeated nightly. Clear."

  Njangu touched the sensor.

  "Yoshitaro here. Over."

  A whisper of static, then:

  "Meeting desired. Location: fifty meters SSW from old Planning Group Headquarters ruins familiar to you. Midday. Tomorrow. No more than one escort."

  "Understood," Njangu said. "If I come… how do I recognize you?"

  A noise came that might have been amusement.

  "You will recognize. Clear."

  Njangu put the microphone down, looked at Hedley.

  "You have any idea what's going on?"

  "Nary a one," Yoshitaro said.