One Good Soldier s-3

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One Good Soldier s-3 Page 13

by Travis S. Taylor


  "By the very act of denying us the right to withdraw from a government, that has become perverted and unsympathetic to the needs of the colonies disconnected by light-years of the coldness of space, you ignore and remove those rights of the colonists.

  "As Jefferson Davis said, 'We but tread in the path of our fathers when we proclaim our independence, and take the hazard. This is done not in hostility to others, not to injure any section of the country, not even for our own pecuniary benefit; but from the high and solemn motive of defending and protecting the rights we inherited, and which it is our sacred duty to transmit unshorn to our children.'

  "People of the Sol System, we are at an impasse in history. We are at that proverbial rock and hard place where I fear David must stand tall against a Goliath. Please recall that the United States was once that David against the British Goliath, and it stood fast and succeeded against complicated and unnerving odds. You must understand that we citizens of Arcadia and the Martian Separatists and the citizens of Tau Ceti have not been in league other than to say that we share a type of the general feeling of 'us against you.' This doesn't have to be hostility toward you but rather a sense of adventure and competition. Choices made today by you will determine if that competition is in friendly business or in the ugly business of conflict. I hope not the latter, as you are our brethren and we are yours. I therefore must express our desire for peaceful future relations with the United States even though the time has come for us to part political ways.

  "In the event that you feel we cannot coexist peacefully and that you must bring disaster on us, then note that every portion of Arcadia—every man, woman, child, and artificial intelligence—will stand up to you to the very last drop of blood and the very last electron if that is what it takes to defend our sovereign rights. Unlike Jefferson Davis, who threatened to, and I quote, 'invoke the God of our fathers, who delivered them from the power of the lion, to protect us from the ravages of the bear; and thus, putting our trust in God, and in our own firm hearts and strong arms, we will vindicate the right as best we may,' we, the citizens of the star system known as Ross 128 of the governing body of the free people of Arcadia, will instead invoke the trust and friendship of President Elle Ahmi of Tau Ceti and the might of the United Separatist Republic. May God forgive us all. And may all humanity live in freedom, liberty, and happiness."

  Once it was clear that Spellman had finished speaking, Moore nodded to his Secret Service team to take the man into custody. The press corps was both dumbfounded and teeming with questions and shouts of "Mr. Spellman, Mr. Spellman!" But none of the questions were answered. And the Secret Service didn't manage to get him into custody.

  Spellman tapped at his wristwatch, and suddenly Moore could feel, hear, and see a very familiar buzzing, hissing, crackling, electric wave of light forming around the man, who then vanished into thin air.

  Sehera immediately rushed to Alexander's side even as Secret Service agents surrounded them, trying to whisk them inside the White House.

  "Alexander, we must stop Dee!" Sehera said urgently.

  "Thomas, get Air Force One ready now!" he told his head bodyguard and friend.

  Abigail, get the Sienna Madira CO on the horn now!

  Yes, Mr. President. I'm already trying, the AIC replied.

  "We're on it," he said to his wife, nodding for her to go with the Secret Service. But he shrugged off the hands trying to guide him and stepped up to the microphone where seconds earlier the ambassador had delivered his bombshell and disappeared. President Moore raised his hands to silence the crowd, then waited for the clamor to die down. Even after the crowd quieted, he paused, reflecting upon the gravity of the moment.

  "My fellow citizens of the United States, including those in Ross 128, I wish I could say this came out of left field, but these seeds of sedition were planted years ago. The fact that the former ambassador not only deceived this administration as to the nature of our talks today but then hijacked this press conference for his own Separatist purposes—well, that was a bit of a shock. But we've come to expect this kind of underhanded behavior from the adherents of the terrorist Elle Ahmi. When it comes to Ahmi, we must expect the unexpected.

  "I may just be a simple marine from Mississippi, but I can tell you this much—as much as Mr. Brown from Ross 128 and Ahmi in Tau Ceti would like to portray themselves as the good guys, they aren't. They aren't the revolutionary colonists who were grossly taxed by a tyrannous England without representation. And they sure as heck aren't after states' rights like Jefferson Davis, no matter how many times they quote him.

  "No, my friends, my fellow Americans, if they want to compare themselves to rebels of years long past, they are not Americans, they are the French. They use the rhetoric of American freedom to disguise a return to tyranny, tyranny headed by a terrorist, Elle Ahmi. By their actions, shall ye know them.

  "Do we target civilians? No, but the Separatists were willing to destroy an entire city on Mars just to cover their escape. And they were willing to kill tens of millions of citizens in Luna City.

  "Do we put their people in concentration camps? No, but they do. I know, because I escaped from one of their death camps. I was the only survivor of that camp. The victims were tortured and murdered by Elle Ahmi, literally by her hands.

  "As Abraham Lincoln said, 'Those who deny freedom to others, deserve it not for themselves; and, under a just God, can not long retain it.'

  "You might be worried. Can we fight this war Elle Ahmi has brought to us? The Separatists and their pawns seem to have all this wonderful new technology. How can we possibly match them? Wouldn't it be easier all around just to let them go?

  "And the answer is not just no, but hell no!

  "It was George Washington who said, 'If we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it; if we desire to secure peace, it must be known that we are at all times ready for War.' Those words are as true today as they were more than six hundred years ago.

  "For the past two terms, we've done everything in our power to cut the size of government and return authority to the local level. We've sought to shrink government intrusion into individuals' lives and decrease the outrageous regulatory burden Americans had fallen under, while striving to keep our borders safe and our military strong and well-trained.

  "How does this prepare us for war, you ask? It means that not only do we have the most professional, intelligent, and prepared military in the galaxy, we have the economic strength, public vitality, and flexibility of manufacture to support a war.

  "And I can promise you one thing—with the new jump technologies, that war will be prosecuted so fast it will make those Seppies' heads spin. They may think they sprang a surprise on us here today, but they haven't.

  "My friends, the forces of the Sienna Madira and the rest of our fighting men and women are even now taking the fight to the Separatists. And this is a fight we will win. For the sake of all humanity.

  "Again, it was the very first Republican president, the great Abraham Lincoln, who said, 'Those who won our independence believed liberty to be the secret of happiness and courage to be the secret of liberty.' All I ask for, my fellow citizens, is your courage, and your belief in liberty. God bless you all, and God bless these United States."

  Alexander took a deep breath and checked to make certain Abigail was already giving the orders to put the vast American military machine in gear.

  Then he said, "As you can guess, I have important things to do today, so please forgive me for taking no questions at this time." Moore turned to his Secret Service contingent and his wife and motioned for them to move out.

  Chapter 12

  July 1, 2394 AD

  Sol System, Oort Cloud

  Friday, 2:17 PM, Earth Eastern Standard Time

  Dee sat in the copilot's seat of the passenger shuttle and watched as Colonel Fink handled the controls like the seasoned Marine pro he was. She was still ecstatic from her short stay on the nation's flagship and getting to fly
in real mecha with real ace pilots. The day couldn't get any better as far as she was concerned. Well, it would've been better if she had shot down DeathRay, but that little maneuver he had done was amazing and was tempting Dee to sway toward the Navy ROTC program instead of the marines. Her mind raced with the torment of such a decision. She didn't have to make it for two years tops, so she tried to put it out of her mind and focus on the wonder that was her trip thus far.

  "You should have seen her, Clay," Jay said to her bodyguard. The two of them were sitting in the two seats behind the pilot and copilot's couches. "She was all over the place, thinking she was all badass. But I'll tell ya one thing, that Captain Boland really stuck it to her and the other marines." Jay laughed just a bit. Dee knew her wingman loved it if he ever could manage to get under her skin. She seldom let that happen. Dee had learned from growing up watching her father that being calm and collected when people were trying to get at you was one of the best defenses in deflating their attacks. When people saw that you didn't really care about their verbal abuse, they tended to quit wasting the effort.

  "Yeah, Clay, you should have seen it." Dee turned back toward them with a sly grin. "Jay lasted at least forty seconds or so. He was so awesome right up until that marine blasted him out of the sky." She smiled at her wingman. Had she been six or twelve she might have stuck out her tongue, but the smirk she gave him was quite sufficient.

  "Knock that chatter off, you two dead-ass nuggets," Fink grunted at them. "I'm trying to fly to another star system here."

  "Passenger Shuttle Hermione all clear for QMT in ten seconds," the QMT facility-control AIC announced to Fink.

  "Roger that, tower. We're ready when you are."

  The four of them sat silently for the countdown and watched as the quantum membrane of the universe was tugged together between stars that were nearly fifteen light-years apart. The large light sphere appeared and then rippled into a two-dimensional illusion. The view of the Oort Cloud below blended and then swapped with a different view of an almost exact duplicate QMT facility, but this one was orbiting a plush blue-green world just below it rather than out in the cold depths of deep space.

  "Welcome to the Ross 128 Colony of Arcadia, U.S. Passenger Shuttle Hermione," the Arcadia tower AIC announced.

  "Thank you, tower," Fink replied and then turned to Dee. "Cadet Moore, why don't you take it from here. I'm gonna stretch my legs a second."

  "Roger that, Colonel." Dee took the controls and had her AIC tap her into the DTM link to the traffic-control AIC. She paid little attention to the colonel as he made his way between Stavros and Clay to the back.

  Dee followed the flight corridor she was given by the tower AIC, with little concentration required. After all, it wasn't like dogfighting with ace mecha pilots. The tower told her to pull into a parking orbit momentarily and hold for further instructions. Then she heard a muffled spitapp spitapp and then another one behind her followed with grunts and the sounds of a scuffle. Dee swiveled the copilot's chair around just in time to move out of the way as Clay and Fink slammed into it. The two men were scuffling over something that Fink had in his right hand.

  Dee twisted past the two men and barely managed to avoid a clawing grasp from Fink's right hand. She lunged her body backward to avoid his grab just as Clay brought his forehead into Fink's face twice. Fink leaned back and shook his head as if to clear his vision just in time for Clay to follow up with another head-butt to the bridge of his nose, cracking it and sending blood streaming down his face.

  Dee lost her balance and landed in her wingman's lap. As she recovered and pulled herself up, she said, "Sorry, Jay." But then realized that Jay felt not only quite limp, but wet. She looked over her shoulder at her friend. He had a blank stare in his eyes, and the right side of his head was blown completely out with gray matter and red blood streaming down his face and neck onto his shirt. Jay was dead. Dee screamed in horror and jumped up from his lap only to slam back into the two men fighting over a railpistol. The impact flung her back between the two rear seats, down on all fours.

  Get a grip and protect yourself, Dee, Bree screamed in her mindvoice.

  Right, Dee thought and shook herself.

  The scuffle continued in a flurry of hand-to-hand jabs, knees, head-butts, and elbows between Fink and Dee's bodyguard. Spitapp, spitapp, spitapp, she heard again and stood to rush Fink.

  "No, Dee!" Clay yelled at her. "Stay out of this."

  "No way," she yelled back at him as she leaped forward in a bicycle roundhouse kick, bringing the top of her right foot hard against Fink's back. The kick stunned him only slightly, but it was enough for Clay to twist inside his grip, backward head-butt him in the face, and then pull Fink's elbow down against his shoulder. There was a loud crack. Fink's right elbow hyperextended the wrong way, and he let out a scream of pain.

  Dee jumped up at him again and slammed her left knee into his ribs, brought her left elbow down on his collarbone but missed it, and then she gave him a right knee into his back as hard as she could.

  "Get off my back, you little bitch!" Fink, bloodied and with his right arm broken at the elbow, somehow managed to squirm out of Clay's grip and pushed off his back, sandwiching Dee between him and the bulkhead. Dee's head slapped against the viewport so hard she saw stars and wobbled to her knees.

  Dee was dazed but managed to make out that Clay had blood trickling from his lips. Then she realized that he had a red spot on his chest. He had been shot, too. Dee forced herself to her feet and shook the stars out of her eyes with the hopes of another assault on the crazed Fink. But even though Fink had a broken arm, he still managed to hold them off with blocks and kicks, and then out of nowhere came a knife. Clay managed to avoid it once by falling backward, but he had just lost too much strength from his wound, and Fink was soon on top of him.

  Clay met Fink's lunge with both his arms, but Fink put all his body weight behind the knife. Clay couldn't hold him off much longer.

  "The gun, Dee!" he managed to say as the blade of the knife inched closer to his throat.

  Dee turned and scanned the deck of the shuttle wildly for the gun, but it was on the other side of the two men. Instead, she threw her body into Fink, knocking him over onto his right side. His broken arm rammed into the pedestal of the pilot's chair, and he screamed in agony. Clay managed to push him the rest of the way off him and kneed him in the groin. Unfortunately, Fink fell right on top of the railpistol. Seeing this, Clay pushed Dee backward into the bulkhead and rose between her and Fink just as the madman raised the weapon and fired. Spitapp, spitapp.

  There was absolute quiet for a brief second. Dee looked into Clay's eyes, and he smiled at her with his big, toothy smile. Red poured from the corners of his mouth and off his tongue.

  "Sorry, Dee . . ." He collapsed dead on the floor at her feet.

  "What did you do?" Dee screamed and started at Fink but then quickly froze as she was staring at the barrel of the railpistol.

  "Quiet!" Fink shouted at her while waving the pistol in her direction. "Don't you make a fucking move, or it will be your last. Now sit down! Turn back around in that chair and keep your hands up where I can see them."

  Dee did what she was told. Fink carefully approached her, then grabbed her left arm and pulled it behind her chair with his good arm. She briefly thought of trying to overpower him, but Fink jammed the barrel of the railpistol into the side of her head. He winced in pain when he did it, but there was no doubt he could still pull the trigger.

  "Don't even think about it." He then zip-tied her hand to the railing of the chair back and continued to do the same with her right hand.

  "Why are you doing this, Fink? What do you hope to gain? You killed them. You killed Jay for no reason. You, k-k-killed Clay!" Tears ran down her cheeks. She and Jay had been classmates for years. They were wingmen, and at one point there had been some sexual interest. Now he was dead. She had known Clay since she had been six years old, and the man was one of her heroes. And for some reas
on this madman had just killed them both!

  "Casualties of war, Dee."

  "Don't call me that. You don't have the right to call me Dee or anything else, you fucking monster! My father will hunt you down to the ends of the galaxy if you harm me. He will rip your fucking eyeballs out!" Dee screamed at him uncontrollably. But Fink only laughed at her as if she were a silly little girl.

  "It won't be me that he will go after, girly. I'm just a middleman. And in about ten minutes I'll be a very fucking rich middleman." Fink double-checked that Dee couldn't move. He pulled the ties tighter, and Dee could feel them cutting into her wrists.

  Fink stepped back behind her and began rummaging through something in the back of the shuttle. Dee managed to swivel her chair, but as she did Fink brought the pistol up with his left hand. Once he realized she wasn't going anywhere, he set the pistol down and went about digging through the locker in the side panel of the shuttle. He finally found what he was looking for, apparently, and pulled it out with his good arm.

 

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