by Chris Bunch
“I tried to call you yesterday, but you were out,” Jasith said. “I didn’t leave a message.”
“My first tweg said a woman had commed,” Garvin said. “I don’t have that many admirers, so I guessed it might’ve been you.”
“Can we meet somewhere … sometime?” she said. “I think I need to talk to you.”
“Didn’t know we had anything in common anymore,” Garvin said.
Jasith flushed.
“Aren’t you being a little goddamned self-righteous?” she snapped. “Some of us don’t always know what we’re doing, and when things get a little too much we sometimes do things we maybe shouldn’t. Haven’t you ever done that?”
Garvin started to lose his temper in return, then caught himself. He had. And he remembered, guiltily, back when he’d been covert against the ‘Raum, once he hadn’t been all that faithful, either … and without more than a twitch at the time.
He took a very deep breath. “You’re right, Jasith. I’m sorry. I have been kind of a son of a bitch.”
Jasith licked her lips.
“I’d really like to see you … like to talk to you, whenever you can get free.”
Garvin thought. “I can take off in the morning tomorrow, or is that too early?”
“No,” Jasith said. “That’s fine. Loy’ll be tied up with that Musth conference all day.”
“Name the place,” Garvin said, feeling his body stir a little.
“I don’t need anyone talking about what I do,” she said. “Even though … I just want to talk to you, I think. Maybe explain something or somethings.”
“As I said, pick the place.”
“Remember that beach we used to go to?” Jasith said. “The one far down, past the spaceport?”
“Sure.”
“How about there? Maybe in that little restaurant?”
Garvin remembered the bar very well. They’d spent an evening there, just sitting, staring at each other, their wine barely touched, but half-drunk just the same.
“I’ll be there,” he said. “When?”
“At nine … no, make it ten. After the conference has started.”
Without waiting for a reply, Jasith blanked the screen.
Garvin stared at it for a long time, then keyed his com.
“Monique, track down Njangu and tell him he’s got the watch tomorrow. I’ve got business in Leggett, early.”
• • •
The Musth speedster came in low over the Heights, with two aksai escorting it, flying high cover. It looked a bit like a standard human speedster, but was sleeker, wider, its windscreen set at more of an angle, with armor curving up on the sides and rear from the body and four gun positions. There were five Musth aboard: Aesc, his chief aide, two bodyguards, and the lifter’s pilot.
It dove to wave level when it was over the water, and the aksai turned back to the Musth base in the Highlands.
The day was bright with promise, the incoming tide washing gently on the white beach sands.
The lifter followed the beach until it closed on the Shelburne, slowed, and hovered slowly toward the over-water deck at the hotel’s rear.
Waiting, just inside an entrance, was a handful of dignitaries. Others were seated in the restaurant inside.
The lifter came to a halt beside the gap in the railing, was bumped against the deck by the morning breeze.
One of the bodyguards slid a short gangplank out from the lifter’s fuselage, and Aesc stepped onto it.
He was halfway between the lifter and the Shelburne when Ab Yohns, watching through a high-power spotting scope from a high rooftop farther down the waterfront, touched a sensor.
The bomb, almost ten kilos of Telex, hidden in that innocuous chunk of driftwood just below the landing, blew straight up, as its charge had been shaped to do.
It caught Aesc, shredding his body, and the lifter was rolled away, the pilot fighting for control until the craft smashed into the water. Aesc’s aide and one bodyguard were killed in the shock wave.
Ab Yohns dropped the scope and the sensor into a padded bag, pulled the fastener shut, and twisted the handle. The blast would go off in a dozen minutes, and completely destroy all of the electronics.
He walked briskly toward the stairs, down them, no more than a businessman thinking about his day. He would be safely back at his villa within an hour and a half.
• • •
Yohns hadn’t built his bomb perfectly — there was enough of a blast to shatter a window, and scatter glass through the crowd. Half a dozen people required minor medical treatment.
Loy Kouro was behind a curtain, which caught the spattered glass and cushioned him against the blast.
He dropped, stayed flat until he realized whatever had happened was over, then jumped up.
Ignoring the moaning casualties around him, he started shouting for the journohs he’d assigned to cover the conference.
Matin must be the first to ‘cast the atrocity.
• • •
Jasith Mellusin was airborne at the controls of her speedster when she saw a greasy cloud of smoke from the ocean, heard, through open side windows, the echoing blast.
She saw the curve of the Shelburne, and Garvin was forgotten. Loy was there. She whimpered once, forced herself to change course toward the hotel.
• • •
Garvin, too, heard the explosion, craned and saw, far down the waterfront, the blast cloud.
He hesitated for an instant, knew something at the conference with the Musth had gone badly wrong and there was no time for Jasith now, and ran hard for the Shelburne.
• • •
The aksai must have been in contact with the Musth lifter, because moments later, they banked back over the city, then dived down on the hotel.
Some men and women saw the ships, and thought they were attacking, but the two Musth fighting ships banked low over the wrecked lifter, then climbed and began orbiting the area, in shock, in grief … no one knew.
• • •
War Leader Wlencing, on distant Silitric, heard about the catastrophe within minutes. He ordered all Musth in the system to the alert, and a mother ship to transport him to C-Cumbre.
He allowed himself one moment of ironic appreciation for what had happened, then turned his mind to business.
The Musth had their incident and better.
CHAPTER
9
The Musth swept the Cumbre system like a tsunami.
Now — far too late — Force Intelligence found out what the mother ships had carried.
There were the already-familiar aksai, flitting like swallows in the skies; larger, sharklike destroyers called velv; and flat, heavily armed aerial troop transports, like a large Grierson, armed almost as heavily as a Zhukov, wynt.
They swarmed the airspace over the major cities of D-Cumbre, over the mining companies’ headquarters on C-Cumbre, and velv systematically took the surveillance stations on D-Cumbre’s moons.
Wlencing’s plans had been perfectly laid.
The Cumbre system passed into Musth hands without a battle.
• • •
The men and women of the Legion could do little but gape at the Musth aircraft orbiting Camp Mahan. One AA missile station was hastily manned, but as its launchers popped up from their underground sites, air-to-ground missiles slammed down, and the site, and its soldiers, vanished in rolling explosions.
• • •
Wlencing’s mother ship landed in the park near the new Planetary Government building, crushing brush, trees, and the freshly dedicated monument to the dead of the ‘Raum uprising.
Aksai in close formation orbited the building as wynt skidded down on the driveway, and Musth warriors boiled out, weapons ready.
The lock on the mother ship opened, and Wlencing and his aides marched out in the odd vee-phalanx they used, strode into the PlanGov building. He paid no attention to the scatter of bodies around the building, security guards who’d obeyed their orders and d
ied.
Wlencing entered the main chamber, where about fifteen of the Council were meeting to discuss the crisis of Aesc’s death. They were milling about, faces white.
Wlencing started for the podium. A heavyset man growled an objection, came toward him. Two Musth pistols slid from holsters, and the man stepped back, raising his hands. Wlencing acted as if nothing had happened, continuing on to the podium.
“In the name of my raccce, our dessstiny, our fate, I claim the Cumbre sssyssstem, and all in it the sssubjectsss of my people. All formsss of government, organization, are declared not lawful until otherwissse allowed.
“You humansss are ordered to obey all commandsss from me, or from my warriorsss absssolutely. The penalty for nonobedienccce or resssissstanccce is death.”
Jo Poynton, in the back of the chamber, slipped quietly out an exit and headed rapidly, unobtrusively, to the remains of the ‘Raum ghetto, the Eckmuhl.
She’d fought from it once, and now it appeared she’d have to do it again.
There were other ‘Raum she knew who hadn’t been killed when the Eckmuhl was put to the torch and sword.
Nor had they surrendered their arms, but dumped them in secret locations. They would be ready.
• • •
Two wynt hovered down to the roof of Matin, and two fighting formations of Musth came out of the side ramp of each. They doubled through the roof door, down two flights of stairs, and burst into the executive offices of the publishing/broadcast conglomerate.
Someone stammered a question to which the Musth leader paid no mind.
“Loy Kouro,” he ordered, and a quaking editor took him to Kouro’s huge office. The publisher came out slowly, empty hands spread in front of him, clearly expecting to be cut down where he stood.
“You have transssmissssion capabilitiesss in the event of the emergencccy?”
Kouro took a moment to understand.
“Yes.”
“Other holosss have the technology to link with you?”
“We have a command linkup,” Kouro said reluctantly. “But its use has to be coordinated and approved by the government.”
“We are now the government,” the Musth said. “Take usss there.”
Kouro hesitated, and the Musth lifted his pistol.
“Follow me.”
“Bring technicalsss to work the apparatusss.”
Most of the coms across D-Cumbre were on, from villages to the Heights, people waiting to be told what had happened. But all that was seen was the normal entertainment channels. The news holos were blank, or playing music.
Simultaneously, all of them cleared, then showed the image of the slain Aesc.
A clear, metallic voice began:
“People of Cumbre. You have offended against us grievously. We, the Musth, have borne many wrongs, from slander to robbery to murder. In spite of repeated warnings, both to your citizens and your government, these offenses have continued.
“Now is the day of reckoning. From this moment forward, all planets in the Cumbre system are taken under the stewardship of the Musth.
“We urge all humans to remain calm, to take no action of stupidity against us. Any such measures of banditry will be met with the most severe penalties. The perpetrator will face death, as will his accomplices. Anyone found to support any action against us will also be sentenced to an immediate death, their properties and goods subject to immediate confiscation.
“We order all humans to continue with their daily routine. Report to your places of work as if the situation was normal.
“There are other emergency rules which must be obeyed: There shall be a curfew of all humans from dusk to dawn. No humans are permitted to gather in groups of more than ten, except as their work requires.
“All private weapons are to be surrendered at your local police station. All policemen are ordered to put themselves under the command of the Musth, and obey whatever instructions received without objection.
“All members of the military are to report to their barracks, where they are confined until we determine the disposition of these forces.
“All aircraft and spaceships are to return immediately to their home bases, land, and await further orders.
“Remember, we Musth wish only peace. Obey our orders, and find your place in a greater future.”
• • •
There were four faces on the split screen in Caud Rao’s office — his regimental commanders.
“What do we do, sir?” Mil Fitzgerald asked.
Rao took a deep breath.
“There’s nothing we can do. Not right now,” he said glumly. “We’ve been ordered to surrender. We’ll haul down the colors, and do like they told us to. Confine everyone to barracks, march them to chow, no leave, no passes, and keep your noncoms circulating so nobody’s got a chance to consider starting a private war.
“Maintain discipline, keep your troops in hand, and don’t give the bastards the slightest excuse to take any further action. Especially watch your hotheads. You know who they are. Don’t punish them, but don’t let them start something the Force won’t be able to finish.”
• • •
Mil Chel Reese, CO, First Regiment, grimaced.
“Aren’t there any options?”
Rao sadly shook his head.
• • •
“What should we do?” Dr. Froude asked Dec Ho Kang.
She thought a moment.
“We sure don’t want all this work to get swept up by the Musth. We better get all of the charts together, all the disks. Right now. We’ll hide you two somewhere, probably over on Mullion Island.”
The two scientists hurried to obey. Ho Kang touched numbers on a com.
“Regimental laundry,” a worried voice said.
“This is Dec Ho Kang, II Section,” Ho Kang said. “Three of us are coming over. We have some material we don’t want anyone to know about for a while.”
“Anyone,” the voice said, coming alive, “like furry anyones?”
“This com could be tapped,” Ho warned. “But you’re thinking right.”
“We can do that,” the voice promised. “Allee time hidee hooch in it, since this ain’t a clean line. Nevah nobody lookee, get to glow in dark if they dumb enough to do, trefoil signs all over. Whatever you’ve got, if it’s smaller’n a Grierson, nobody’ll think of there.”
• • •
“Screw this noise!” Cent Elles said angrily. “We’re just supposed to sit here and let them run over us?”
“We’re already run over,” Ben Dill said calmly. “And those were our orders.”
“Screw them, too!” Elles looked around the ready room, out the window at the hidden jungle base on Mullion Island. “I say we go after the goddamned Musth! Maybe they’ll take us out, but at least we’ll have taken some with us!”
“That’s not what Caud Rao ordered,” an alt said.
“I’m base commander here, dammit!” Elles said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Man your ships, take off, find targets, any Musth force or aircraft, and kill them. Shake off any pursuers, then return here for fuel, rearming, another mission.”
“And if we’ve got too many on our butts to shake, what’re we supposed to do?” Dill asked. “Let them find this base, or should we just bail out and take our chances?”
“Under no circumstances are you to reveal the existence of this base,” Elles snapped. “Take whatever actions are necessary!”
He picked up a mike, touched the red sensor that turned on PAs around the field.
“Uh, sir,” Ben Dill said. “One other thing?”
“What?” Elles said irritably.
Dill’s snapped punch took him in the diaphragm, and Elles whuffed, folded. Ben thumped a fist on the back of his exposed neck, and the officer collapsed. The huge alt shut the microphone off and looked down at the base commander, shaking his head sadly.
“I think that’s a court-martial offense,” he said. “Maybe Ben loses his sash over this
.”
“Being busted’s better’n pointless suicide,” another pilot said. “Especially ‘cause I don’t see any way we could get more’n five meters off the ground without getting wiped out.”
“Maybe so,” Dill said. “But this is the first time I’ve ever backed off from a fight, and it tastes bad. Really bad.”
• • •
“I’m not a happy trooper,” Garvin Jaansma said quietly.
“Shut up,” Njangu said. “We’re hard cases, remember? Not sentimental schnooks.”
The two, dressed in combat camouflage, fully armed, stood to one side of the Camp Mahan parade ground.
At its head were three flagpoles, the center flying the Confederation flag, the other two the Cumbre ensign and the Force colors.
The officer of the guard, a ranking dec, and the daily guard detachment stood at the salute as a seven-man detail marched to the poles, unfastened the lines, and made ready to lower the colors. A bugler with his archaic instrument stood ready.
A shout echoed across the parade ground.
“Stop!”
A man with a blaster lurched from behind a building. He was in his forties, grizzled and hard-bitten. He was familiar to Njangu, and he puzzled, got it. The man’s name was Barker, no, Barken, a long-server from somewhere out-system, who’d arrived with the Force on its deployment to Cumbre. Barken had worn stripes, had them taken away, had them given back again. He was considered a good field soldier, had won medals in the rising, had been promoted yet again, then had been reduced to the ranks for throwing a two-week drunk.
“Stop, goddammit!” He fired a round into the air, and everyone froze.
“We’re not lowerin’ the friggin’ flag, goddammit!” He stumbled closer to the guard detail, and the dec’s hand slid toward his holstered pistol.
“Hold it, soldier,” he shouted back. “Get rid of the gun, and freeze!”
“Shove that up yer ass. Sir,” Barken said, “I’ve been with the Force more’n twenty years, and we’ve never surrendered to nobody, and we’re not frigging starting now!”
“You’re disobeying orders!”
“Nobody oughta be obeying those goddamned orders! What are we, winks that fold up without even one lousy frigging fight? What the hell is this? What the hell is going on!”
