Just Compensation

by Robert N. Charrette

  “I hope not, sir.”

  “So do I.” Pointedly, Trahn glanced at the bank of monitors lining the van’s wall. “Now, was there anything else?” There was; but after everything Trahn had said, Tom wasn’t sure he’d be wise to bring it up again.

  “It’s all right, Rocquette. You can speak your mind freely.”

  All right, then. “I’m afraid I’m still unclear on why we aren’t using some of the less lethal methods available for riot control, General?”

  “Stop right there. I know where you’re going. Son, I know the authorized equipage as well as you. I also know some things you don’t. The situation is dirt simple. For a variety of reasons, supplies have not been forthcoming, and we do not have access to our authorized non-lethal means. We have no recourse but to use the means at hand. If we had that stuff, don’t you think we’d be using it?”

  Tom nodded. He wanted to believe they’d use non-lethal means if they had them.

  “All right then.” Trahn said. “You’d better get back to doing your job. You won’t disappoint me, will you, Major?”

  “No, sir.”

  Trahn smiled paternally. “Just follow orders and you’ll be fine.” the general said and dismissed him.

  Tom left the van wondering if the general’s parting comment was what Nazi generals had told their stormtroopers.

  >WFDC LIVE FEED

  -(08:07:33/8-25-55]

  DEECEE AM MORNINGRIDE WITH JESS BOK [BOKX-345]

  Bok: “Welcome back to DeeCee AM Morningride for another rush-free rush hour as all public transportation into the District remains shut down and the ban continues in force on personal vehicles on all main arteries and all bridges into the central subregions. Remember, if you want the latest datafeed updates on street closings, as well as FedPol and military blockade locations, give us a call, small charge applies.

  “As you might expect, last night’s rumblings from local politicians are working their way up the food chain. Morning statements from a random sample of public officials show that our elected representatives are hopping mad. A common opinion holds that the FedPols have failed, and that the military intervention ordered by President Steele to bail out the FedPols may be failing as well. There is growing fear that the rioting will spread.

  “Hey, partners, you think I’m kidding? Let me feed you a sound bite just in from WFDC reporter Derry Dale down in Fredericksburg, capital of North Virginia.”

  Dale: “Governor Jefferson, what’s your take on the military intervention in the UCAS capital?”

  Jefferson: “Derry, you know it’s really not my place to take a stand on this, but I have to say I’m concerned that the UCAS forces are in over their heads. The situation is bad and growing worse, and I’m not sure they can handle it. This makes me extremely concerned for the safety of our citizens in Arlington.”

  Dale: “Governor, did you just say ‘our citizens in Arlington?’ ”

  Jefferson: “Did I say Arlington? I meant North Virginia.

  Isn’t that what I said? In any case, the safety of our citizens remains my first concern.”

  Bok: “Kinda hits ya where ya live with warm fuzzies, don’t it?”<<<<<

  18

  Colonel Jemal Jordan, who Markowitz whispered was General Trahn’s intelligence officer, took custody of Andy and Markowitz. Tom went off, apparently bound to see Trahn. The woman with the Thaumaturgic Corps insignia on her long leather coat went with him, but the rest of the command car crew stayed with the vehicle. Andy saw them huddle together and start talking as he was led away.

  The mage puzzled him. She’d stuck up for Andy when he’d first hailed Tom, but hadn’t said a word since. It wasn’t because she wasn’t interested. He’d caught her watching them occasionally during the trip, while she was supposed to be asleep. Mages had their own agenda, everybody said so. Andy wondered what hers was. She frightened him a little, but he supposed that was mostly because he’d never met a mage before.

  There was Kit, of course, but Andy had trouble thinking of her as a mage. She was too ...

  Well, this wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about that.

  They were taken to a building festooned with roof antennae. Inside, they walked down a flight of stairs, then along several featureless halls, emerging in a chamber filled with consoles and people working at them. Each of the stations was equipped with a privacy screen that restricted the computer’s projections exclusively to the operator directly in front of it. No one looked up from the workstations as they entered, but the guards noticed. Steely eyes had fastened on them as soon as they appeared.

  Two doors and three archways, all guarded, offered exit from the room. They went through the central archways and down another corridor. Andy was put into a room with no door save for the two guards on either side of the entrance.

  Colonel Jordan took Markowitz further down the hall and out of Andy’s sight.

  Andy felt even more alone than when he’d left Telestrian. At least that had been a voluntary exile. He looked around. No windows. The light came from a panel flush with the ceiling, illuminating the dingy beige walls and ceiling and the scuffed gray concrete floor. The room had a plain wood table and four chairs, also plain wood. The chairs didn’t look comfortable. Andy paced.

  An officer—a captain, Andy thought—came in. His name tag said Stratton.

  “Please have a seat.” Captain Stratton said, taking one himself.

  The captain knew Andy’s real name, which wasn’t surprising, considering he’d shouted it to Tom. The captain’s questions told Andy that he knew much more than just Andy’s name. He knew that Andy was from Telestrian, and had been involved in the Montjoy Project, and that his “death” had been faked. The captain wanted to know if Andy had helped Markowitz’s Montjoy run from the inside, and how long he’d been associated with Markowitz’s shadowrunners. Andy thought it would be a bad idea to answer those questions, and a worse idea to lie.

  “I think I’d like to talk to a lawyer.” he said.

  “Is that so?” Captain Stratton smiled politely. “Would that be a Telestrian lawyer to look after the interests of deceased citizen Andrew Walker, who is beyond the need for legal counsel? Or would it be a public defender to plead for the nameless, SINless gutter trash sitting in front of me, who doesn’t have a legal leg to stand on and isn’t entitled to a public defender anyway?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Very well. I hope you’re beginning to see the value in cooperating.”

  “I guess so.” Andy said, but what he really was doing was imagining the troubie he’d get into if he didn’t cooperate.

  “Good.” The captain returned to his questions.

  Andy answered Stratton this time, giving honest truth when the question concerned something verifiable from his Telestrian life. When the subject of the datasteal came up, Andy glossed it, saying he’d been coerced and never admitting to his part in helping Yates in the Matrix. He told Stratton, again honestly, that he hadn’t had any previous connection with Markowitz or any of his runners.

  “So if you weren’t involved, why did you run?” Stratton asked.

  “I was scared.” And that was chiptruth. Andy had faked his death for fear of being connected to the data theft, and he told the captain so. “It might not have been the smartest thing I ever did.”

  Stratton nodded as though he agreed. “Tell me what happened after that.”

  Andy told him about encountering Markowitz on the street and about the beating he’d received from the ork gang, which seemed to earn him some sympathy.

  “So that was how you came to be in Markowitz’s company?”

  “Yeah. It was a coincidence. He helped me after I got beat up. I didn’t know he was the guy who’d led the run against Telestrian. He’s been trying to help me build a new life.”

  “Very kind of him.” Stratton said in a way that said he didn’t think kindness was at all involved. “And what sort of activities has Mr. Markowitz engaged in of late? Ot
her than helping you, that is.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You weren’t helping him in his business? Returning a favor for a favor, perhaps?”

  Whatever Andy might have said next was interrupted as the mage stuck her head in. “Anything?” she asked.

  “Mr. Walker and I are getting along just fine.” Stratton said. He smiled agreeably at Andy.

  The mage nodded. “Where’s Jordan?”

  “Down the hall, waiting for you.” Stratton said.

  The mage left. Captain Stratton had “a few more questions.” Andy stuck to his story of Markowitz’s help, spinning out a tale of the man’s trying to find a doss and some work for Andy. Surprisingly, Stratton seemed satisfied with the tale.

  “Don’t go away.” he told Andy as he left.

  Being left alone wasn’t so great. There wasn’t anything to do in the room, so it didn’t take Andy long to get bored. He started pacing again, and imagining how much trouble they were in. He was starting to wonder what had happened with Markowitz when the mage’s voice drifted down the hall.

  “Bring me my ritual bag from the car.” Then slightly louder, as if calling after someone already leaving on an errand. “And get the rats, too. The street rats, not the lab ones.”

  The ritual bag Andy more or less understood; mages needed tools to conduct much of their business. But the rats?

  He understood the “what” of the request when a soldier hustled by the door bearing a stainless steel cage of live rats, but the “why” escaped him totally. Unless . . .

  Unless they were intended for a sacrifice. No. The Army couldn’t be involved in black magic, could it?

  When Tom finally found where Jordan had squirreled him, Andy started babbling something about black magic. Tom told the kid to calm down and start over. There really wasn’t much to his story, unless you knew Furlann. Not that Tom ever had more than suspicions about her magical ethics, but a mage with a Presidential pardon for magical crimes was not the sort of person the Church considered for their exorcism squads. The UCAS Thaumaturgic Corps was a lot less picky. The kid might actually be right.

  “Where did they take Markowitz?” Tom asked.

  “I don’t know.” Andy said. “They dumped me here and kept going. It can’t be very far, if I could hear the mage ordering her sacrificial animals.”

  “All right, Andy. All right. Stay calm.” Tom wasn’t sure what to do. If Andy was right, some serious badness was going down, and busting it up would be the honorable thing to do. But if Andy was wrong, Tom might be the one who ended up busted. Still, he had to know. “I’m going to go check it out.”

  “I want to come too.”

  “Not bright.” None of this was.

  “And leaving me here?” Andy pleaded. “Come on, Tom. You’re the only friend I’ve got here, besides Markowitz. You can't leave me now. If they’re using black magic on him, how long before they start in on me?”

  Another witness might not hurt. “All right, but stick close to me.”

  “Not a prob.”

  There was a problem just outside, in the corridor. Two, actually. The guards would have orders to see that Andy didn’t leave. But what if he were going deeper into the complex?

  “I’m taking the prisoner to Colonel Jordan.” Tom told the guards as he marched Andy through the arch.

  The MPs exchanged a glance, but said nothing. An exchange of salutes and Tom and Andy were past them and headed down the corridor.

  Tom had come prepared to cover his own hoop on this one, though this wasn’t quite what he’d been expecting. As they walked he fished a small recorder out of the cargo pocket on his BDU pants, slid the switch to On and hooked it on his belt webbing, making sure it was visible. He’d used similar devices out in Denver when dealing with foreign nationals at prisoner-exchange sites and other sensitive meetings where the people back home needed to know exactly what had happened.

  They passed another pair of guards and Tom repeated his half-truth. A little further on there was a door, closed. Tom put his ear to it and heard Furlann’s voice. He recognized the language as Latin, but he couldn’t catch more than a word or two. It was enough to support Andy’s fears. Tom had dreaded finding out that Andy was right. Now it was looking as though he was.

  Tom tested the door, confirming that it was unlocked. He rapped once and threw it open, striding into the room without waiting for a response. Furlann, bent over a censer, stopped her chanting and looked up. Colonel Jordan spun to face the door, revealing Markowitz, reclining in a chair that looked remarkably like a dentist’s couch. He didn’t move. Jordan’s hand was on the butt of his sidearm, but he didn’t draw it. That threat didn’t halt Tom. What stopped him were the colored chalk lines on the concrete floor. He put an arm out to stop Andy, hard on his heels, from breaking the ritual circle.

  “What’s going on here, Colonel?” Tom asked, trying to make it sound like a justifiable demand for information.

  Jordan glared at him, stifling a reply as his gaze took in the recorder at Tom’s waist. The activity lights were visible; the colonel would know that the conversation not only was being recorded on the box, but was being transmitted to Tom’s Ranger TCV to file a duplicate.

  “We’re interrogating a prisoner.” Jordan said when he composed himself. “Not that it’s any of your concern, Major.”

  “I brought this man in, Colonel. I feel responsible for him.”

  “What you’re doing could be considered insubordinate.” the colonel told him.

  “Questionable orders must be questioned, sir.”

  “I gave you no questionable orders.”

  “You ordered me to surrender this man to you, sir. That was well within your authority. Subsequently, I learned that unorthodox methods were apparently to be used to interrogate him. I felt it necessary to confirm that this was not the case. Meaning no disrespect, sir. I came to do that. It appears that my concerns had some merit, sir.”

  Tom nodded to the ritual equipment Furlann was tending. He wasn’t a mage, but his job required a working knowledge of theory as well as practice. What he saw hinted at the more dire aspects of magic. The eviscerated rat was the final touch. He had to swallow to get enough moisture in his throat to speak. “Do you understand the nature of Captain Furlann’s equipment, Colonel?”

  Jordan’s eyes narrowed. His response was cool. “I do. I think, however, that you misunderstand the purpose of this arrangement.”

  “I disagree, sir.” Tom made sure that the button lens of the recorder swept across Furlann’s arrangements. “If you really do understand what Captain Furlann has set up, then you must also understand that the procedures you’re preparing to employ are illegal, even for military intelligence pursuing security matters within the military. With regard to civilians, including hostile agents, such procedures are only allowable after showing due cause for the record during a national emergency, which has not yet been declared. Since martial law is not yet in force, civil liberties haven’t been suspended.” Tom pointed out.

  “For the moment.” Jordan replied.

  “Which means that, for the moment, any prisoners, especially civilian prisoners, must be treated according to the law. And according to the law, a civilian is not bound to submit to your interrogation. Mr. Markowitz is therefore not required to answer any of your questions. Certainly not without his express permission, and probably not without a lawyer present.”

  “Do you want a lawyer, Mr. Markowitz?” Jordan asked.

  Markowitz was grinning. “No, but given the chance to talk, I’ll happily say that I want to go home.”

  Jordan smiled tightly. “Then get up and walk away. According to Major Rocquette here, you can—legally—do so. Show us.”

  Markowitz didn’t move.

  Tom had experience dealing with magic and knowledge of Furlann’s skills. “Have Furlann drop her spells, Colonel. Arcane restraint is still compulsion.”

  Glowering, Jordan nodded to Furlann. A moment later, Mar
kowitz was up out of the couch.

  “We’ll talk again, Mr. Markowitz.” Jordan said. Markowitz sighed, chafing at his arms. “I hope not, Jemal. I liked you better before you became Trahn’s lapdog. Hope he’s feeding you well, because you’re going to need to be in good running condition to catch me.”

  “We’re not worried about that.” Furlann said, closing a small box and slipping it into a pocket of her coat. She whispered something to Jordan. He nodded.

  “Since you aren’t willing to cooperate in the best interests of your country, Mr. Markowitz, you are free to go.”

  “Do I get a safe conduct off the base?”

  “That won’t be necessary. Don’t you trust me?”

  “You have to ask?” Markowitz shrugged. “Having a pass wouldn’t matter if you wanted to haul me back. Come on, kid. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Just a minute.” Jordan said as Tom turned for the door, herding Andy in front of him. “The self-named Andrew Walker is not a citizen. He is not free to go.”

  Andy gulped audibly.

  “He gave his statement to Captain Stratton. Are you disputing it?” Tom asked.

  “It has not yet been verified.” Jordan said.

  “The only reason he’s here is because I brought him.” Tom said. “I admit to family concerns because Andrew Walker is my half-brother. I also admit that I resent the treatment he’s received.”

  “That’s your prerogative. He’s still wanted for questioning.”

  Jordan’s callousness pickled Tom. “Is he? Why?”

  “Because of his association with Markowitz.”

  That was what he’d hoped Jordan would say. “Is that so? Well, the bulletin on Mr. Markowitz stated specifically that anyone associated with him be brought in as well. Andy told Captain Stratton that he has nothing more than a chance acquaintance with Mr. Markowitz. His association with Mr. Markowitz is purely accidental.”

  “He was captured along with Markowitz on the bridge.”

  “If that’s your case, you’re going to have a very crowded interrogation room. There were a lot of people captured along with Mr. Markowitz. Are you saying they were all associated with him?”