Just Compensation

by Robert N. Charrette

  Grace: “Armored vehicles? They have tanks?"

  Blitzer: “No, just IFV’s. Light armor. However, the army’s southern force, Task Force Lessem, has the 131st Heavy Battalion, 100th Armored Division. They have tanks. Real heavy armor.

  Grace: “Heavy armor? Like panzers?”

  Blitzer: “Heavy armor can be panzers, but the line battalions of the 100th Armored are equipped with tracked M2B2s and Ranger IFVs. The division does have a company of LAV armor—panzers—but that is currently detached for service in Chicago. The use of tanks may be controversial, but perhaps more unusual is the deployment of Provisional Special Resources Battalion 7711, a rag-tag conglomeration of teleoperated and Thaumaturgic Corps units operating as Task Force Rocquette. We know little more about them than their name, but we do know that they were responsible for the fire incident on the George Mason Bridge.”<<<<<

  17

  When Andy had spotted Tom Rocquette sitting in the armored vehicle up on the overpass, he’d been ready to try anything to escape the soldiers. Sure, Tom was a soldier too, but he was also Andy’s half-brother. That had to count for something, didn’t it? Although Tom had never been exactly warm toward Andy in the past, he hadn’t been hostile either. Andy was pretty sure Tom liked him.

  Of course Andy had been just a kid then, and not a SIN-less street scut whose cyberdeck had been confiscated by the soldiers.

  Andy hadn’t really been sure what to expect when he hailed Tom Rocquette, but he’d certainly hoped for a more enthusiastic reception than he’d gotten. Though not outright hostile like the other soldiers, Tom was cold and distant. He seemed unconvinced that Andy was Andy, which was understandable. Bundled into Tom’s armored vehicle and headed for who knew where, Andy did his best to convince his half-brother that he really was alive and not just an impostor by talking about the times that they’d met.

  Unfortunately Markowitz seemed to be trying to sabotage his attempts to make Tom look on them favorably.

  “Soldiers against the citizens.” Markowitz said. “Quite a show. Been watching Nazi training vids?”

  The low light level inside the vehicle made it hard to read Tom’s expression as he asked tonelessly, “Nazi?”

  “Yeah, you know, goose-step for the Reich, and grind those heels on anyone in the way. Kick the lowlifes out of the way of the master race. Get those annoying genetic undesirables into camps where they can be taken care of properly. Is that where the marchers are going? To camps?”

  “There haven’t been any Nazis since ’07.” Tom said quietly. “Is history then among your investigations, Mr. Markowitz? You seem to have quite a knowledge of defunct political systems.”

  “Names change, but black hearts don’t.” Markowitz replied. “And why shouldn't I know history? More to the point, shouldn’t you? Even more to the point, I know violence when I see it. Even were the motives pure, what those soldiers are doing out there is illegal.”

  “Not a historian but a lawyer. Is that it, Mr. Markowitz?”

  “What is it with you and pigeonholes?” Markowitz asked. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. A man in my business has to know enough law to get by, and I do. For example, I know it’s illegal to use UCAS military forces against citizenry.”

  Andy hadn’t known that.

  “Without a Presidential order.” Tom said.

  Andy hadn’t known that either.

  “You got one?” asked Markowitz.

  Tom nodded. “It so happens we do.”

  “Lord save us, then. The Nazis aren’t dead, and we have the singular honor of participating in the return of the purges. Heil, Steele.”

  “This is not a purge.” Tom’s voice sounded a little strained. “We’re simply working to restore order and shut down the rioters.”

  “Rioters?” Markowitz repeated incredulously. “There aren’t any rioters out there. There are just people trying to defend themselves from Locke’s jack-booted stormtroopers. Or at least that was what they were doing until you and your armored henchmen showed up. Bang! Down comes the tool of manifest political will. Bang! Another fine SS hammer to bludgeon down the Untermenschen. How come you’re looking so annoyed, Major? Your jackboots too tight?”

  “That’s out of line.” Andy said. He hoped Tom would understand that everybody didn’t think he was one of those bad guys Markowitz was talking about.

  Markowitz turned on him. “What’s out of line is what his people are doing.” he said, pointing an accusative finger at Tom. “There are good people out there in the camps and they’re dying because they dared to stand up for what was theirs, because some fat-cat politician has got better uses for the money. Those good people are dying because they stood up and asked for what had been promised them. All they want is just compensation.”

  “Good people?” Tom was heated now. “Good people don’t ignite their neighborhoods, or anyone else’s. Last night’s fires drew the line, and the rioters crossed it.”

  “So you intend to douse the fires in blood. Very democratic.”

  “We intend to see that no more are set.”

  “How? By killing people? I expect that will work real well. Things get very quiet when everybody’s dead. Very convenient solution, too. No witnesses.”

  “You’re off base, Markowitz.” Tom said.

  “It’s true, though.” Andy told him. “I saw soldiers shoot people who were trying to surrender.”

  “No.” Tom’s voice wasn’t very loud and Andy wasn’t sure he’d heard him speak.

  “Don’t you think your brothers in camo are killers?”

  Markowitz asked.

  Tom cleared his throat. “If anyone was killed, it was because they offered threatening resistance. Though I wouldn’t expect someone with your left-handed view to understand it, Mr. Markowitz, I can assure you that the Army isn’t full of indiscriminate killers.”

  “Oh, they’re not being indiscriminate!" Markowitz said. “I never said that. In fact, I noticed a definite preference among the soldiers for finding resistance among the metahumans. Why, to my certain knowledge, a simple surly glance proved threatening enough to your well-armed soldiers that they felt compelled to conduct the summary execution of at least two orks, a troll, and a dwarf woman with her baby.”

  “You must be mistaken.” Tom said.

  “Must I?”

  Tom didn’t answer. He just stared at the cabin wall.

  “You’re a puppet.” Markowitz told him.

  Turning slowly to look at him, Tom said, “You have a melodramatic bent, Mr. Markowitz.”

  “Comes of being a failed romantic, or so I’m told. Maybe that’s why I still believe sometimes a man will stand up and do the right thing, even when his chummers are doing something else entirely. It’s hard to buck the herd, but sometimes you have to. I know you know what I mean. Andy here told my you’re an okay guy. Didn’t you, Andy?”

  “Yeah. I did tell him that, Tom.”

  “That’s right. Listen, Major. You’ve got a chance here to show me that I’ve got you all wrong. The kid told you right: neither of us was involved in the rioting. Getting caught on the bridge was bad timing and worse luck, that’s all. There’s no significance to it. We really don’t want to be involved in this mess. I’m sure you can understand that. So why don’t you just drop us off and we can all forget we ever met?”

  Tom shook his head, a half-smile on his face. “I seem to recall someone telling me there was no rioting. How does someone not get involved in something that isn’t happening?”

  “You just don’t want to be an easy guy.”

  “I have orders, Mr. Markowitz. I have to carry them out.”

  “Yes, sir, Major Nazi.”

  “I think it’s time for you to shut up, Mr. Markowitz.” Tom said in a chill voice.

  Andy thought about telling Markowitz he agreed, but didn’t see how that would help. Fortunately he didn’t have to; Markowitz got the hint. Andy was relieved. The tension was too high already. What had gotten into Markowitz? He w
as usually more placatory when dealing with people—at least with people other than Andy. Maybe he was worried about Kit; she was still out there somewhere. Had the soldiers picked her up as well? Andy hoped not, for her sake.

  After riding in silence for a while, Tom suddenly heaved himself out of his seat, moved across the cabin, and slid into a tiny bucket in front of a stripped-down drone control station. Andy had seen similar set-ups in the tech bays at Telestrian, so he could tell what Tom was doing as he activated switches and entered commands. He was calling in a relay from a reconnaissance drone. When the picture brightened the screen, Andy saw that the drone was hovering above the continuing melee on the bridges. No one on the bridges or far shore was bothering it; they were all far too busy. At Tom’s command, the drone focused closer on the interface between the soldiers in their gray and black camo uniforms and the motley riot of colors that was their opponents.

  The insane violence of the confrontation was right there on the screen. Tom couldn’t deny what they’d told him now.

  The drone showed them soldiers shooting marchers. The drone’s viewpoint was high and distant; it made it hard to tell if those being shot were dead or not, but they were surely injured. More often than not, the soldiers shot without provocation.

  As Markowitz started to say something, Andy gave him a kick in the shins. Surprise silenced him. Tom never noticed, which was fine by Andy.

  Tom toggled the console to communications mode.

  “Colonel Lessem, this is Major Rocquette. I think we have a problem developing on the bridges.”

  Almost immediately the colonel’s response came over the cabin’s speakers. “What is it, Rocquette? The rioters got another mage?”

  “No, sir. At least not to my knowledge. The problem, sir, is with our troops. General Trahn isn’t going to be happy.”

  Lessem chuckled. “Not fast enough for the old man, eh? Well, you’ll have to tell him that if he wants the job done faster, he’ll have to send me some more troops. Either that or take the shackles off.”

  The colonel thought that the troops were being restrained? Andy couldn’t believe it. Tom’s silence suggested that he too was surprised by the colonel’s response.

  “Nazi stormtrooper tactics.” Markowitz whispered.

  Andy hoped Tom didn’t hear.

  Tom addressed the microphone. “Colonel, I respectfully suggest that you check the feed from drone Able-Charley-two-three. I think you will find that things are not progressing as smoothly as you believe.”

  “That so?” A pause. “You’re running under orders to report to HQ with some prisoners, are you not?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then I suggest that you tend to your business.”

  The connection cut out.

  Having seen the excessive violence with his own eyes, Tom could not deny what Markowitz alleged. The Army was using stormtrooper tactics. It didn’t make sense to Tom. Just like Furlann’s sledgehammer-against-a-fly approach on the bridge, this was an overreaction.

  “You want to reconsider taking us in now?” Markowitz asked.

  “No.” Tom said. Other people disobeying orders didn’t free him to do so. “You both have to go in.”

  Markowitz harrumphed. “I hope your fuhrer’s headquarters has the latest in torture racks. The old models are so uncomfortable.”

  “Torture?” Andy sounded scared.

  “He’s trying to scare you and browbeat me.” Tom told him. “You’re just going to be asked some questions. No one is going to torture anybody.”

  “Are you sure?” Andy asked.

  “You have my personal assurance that there will be no torture.” Tom said. It was an easy promise. The UCAS army wasn’t like the Aztlanians.

  “I am so relieved to hear that.” Markowitz said.

  Tom looked to Markowitz. “A private beating afterwards, citizen to citizen, is another matter.”

  “I’ll consider it a date.” Markowitz said. “Though if you’re wrong, I expect to be allowed time to recover before we have our discussion.”

  “You’ll need to be in top condition.” Tom promised him. Andy was looking back and forth between them as though he were watching two lunatics, which perhaps he was. Markowitz made Tom itchier than he’d been in a long time.

  When the command car pulled into the vehicle park nearest General Trahn’s TOC, Colonel Jordan stood waiting for them, flanked by a quartet of his white-gloved military police. Tom trooped Andy and Markowitz over to the colonel.

  “Hello, Markowitz.” Jordan said. “In trouble again, I see.”

  Markowitz nodded to him. “Apparently. The usual mistakes, I expect. How you doing, Jemal? How’s the wife?”

  There ensued some incredibly ordinary chitchat. Tom listened. amazed. Jordan turned to Tom and saluted. “Major, I relieve you of your prisoners.”

  Tom returned the salute.

  “Report to the general at his van.” Jordan said.

  Furlann accompanied Tom as far as the TOC. She didn’t say anything, which was fine; Tom didn’t feel like talking to her. Her acerbic manner was entirely too like Markowitz’s, and Markowitz had already rubbed him raw. Tom logged in and found himself a place to await the general’s pleasure. Sitting and stewing about what he’d seen and heard, he didn’t notice when Furlann disappeared, but she wasn’t around when the general summoned Tom into his presence.

  Once the military formalities were out of the way, Trahn invited Tom to sit.

  “I understand you have a problem with the way this operation is being conducted.” he said without preamble.

  Colonel Lessem would have informed him about Tom’s call. “No fault with command, sir, but the troops seem to be operating outside the mission’s parameters.”

  “How outside? Response has been left to unit commanders. You seem to be questioning their judgment. Just what is your problem, Rocquette?”

  Trahn shook his head sadly. “This is not a training exercise, or a mop-up after an outlaw policlub rally. There’s a large and hostile mob out there, threatening the health and safety of the citizenry you are sworn to protect. It’s our nation’s capital that Randolph and his ungrateful followers have chosen to devastate. You can’t think that half-measures are enough. Half-measures get you killed when the other guy is giving his all, and there is absolutely no reason to believe that the rioters are giving less than their all. Are you asking our soldiers to let themselves be walked over?”

  “No, sir. That’s not what I meant at all.”

  “You were at the briefing, Rocquette. You know that our troops are significantly outnumbered by the mob. We have to utilize all our advantages. One of those advantages is the unity of our command structure, Major. We cannot afford debate. It will weaken us, slow us, and divide us; and if that happens, good soldiers will die. Is that what you want?”

  “No, sir. But people are already dying, General.”

  “People who have stepped outside the law.”

  “The law is supposed to protect people, even felons.” Tom pointed out.

  “You’re living in the last century, Rocquette.”

  Was that so bad? There were some who called the end of the last century a golden age. “The laws of the land still apply.”

  “Some of those laws have been amended.” the general reminded him. “Listen, son. I know you’re intelligent. Surely you can see what’s happening around us. Surely, you can sense the moral rot. We’re groaning under the legacy of that bastard Howling Coyote and his disciples. This used to be the greatest country in the world. Now look at us. We’ve been cut off at the knees and beggared because we’ve accepted the yoke forced on us by the creatures of this new age. How can a man survive in this world?”

  Trahn seemed to expect an answer. Unfortunately Tom was full of questions, not answers. Basically, he agreed with Trahn about the condition of the world, but he was unsure how such a philosophical position fit into the situation at hand. He also knew better than to contradict a general. He tried for
a safe reply. “A man does what his honor will let him.”

  “And you think that our response to the rioters is something less than honorable?”

  That had been one of Tom’s concerns. “A fair fight is honorable. Militarily, those people out there are a rabble.”

  “I would prefer a fair fight, but that kind of honor died when the Sixth World was born. Men, real men, can’t fight fair against magical things. The Dissolution Campaigns taught us that. No chance at all, not without using every weapon available, ignoring the niceties.”

  “Times have changed since then, General.”

  “They have, they have indeed. They’ve gotten worse. Look at Chicago—we’re losing a city there. If we had a real army, I doubt we’d be having such problems. We could have squashed those bugs as soon as they waved their antennae above ground.”

  Tom didn’t know the details of what was going on in Chicago, but he’d seen what was happening here in Washington. “But we’re not dealing with bugs here, General. We’re dealing with people.”

  “We are dealing with people.” Trahn admitted. “People who’ve accepted the corruption of the Sixth World. People who’ve lain down and spread their legs for it. People who’ve sold out honest humans. People who’ve given up their right to fair and honorable treatment. If you have any doubt of that, you need look no further than the way they ignored our warnings before we moved against them. They were offered the opportunity to disperse peacefully and safely. They passed it up. Maybe they thought we were bluffing. Lord knows the government has bluffed often enough. But the time for bluff is over. It’s time for action and men, real men, must heed the call. I was told that you were a man who understood those necessities, Rocquette. Was I told wrong?”

  “I don't know exactly what you were told, General, but I’ve always been a good soldier.”

  “These are times that call for more than just good soldiers. These are times that cry out for leaders.” Trahn’s stare was penetrating. “There are those who speak highly of you, Rocquette. They say you’re more than a good soldier. That you’re a leader. A man who knows the right course when he sees it. Are they wrong?”