The Ghost Brigades omw-2

by John Scalzi

  "And you're saying it wasn't," Jared said.

  "It wasn't," Mattson said, and then threw up his hands when Jared gave him a skeptical look. "Okay. Look. Perhaps our history of bad blood played a small role. Maybe I was less willing to cut him a break than I would be someone else. Fine. But my main concern was getting work out of him. And I did promote the son of a bitch."

  "But he never forgave you for what happened to Zoe," Jared said.

  "Do you think I wanted his little girl dead, Private?" Mattson said. "Do you think that I wasn't aware that if I had just said yes to his request, she'd be alive now? Christ. I don't blame Boutin for hating me after that. I didn't intend for Zoe Boutin to die, but I accept I bear a part of the responsibility for the fact she is dead. I said as much to Boutin himself. See if that is in your memories."

  It was. Jared saw in his mind Mattson approaching him in his lab, awkwardly offering his condolences and sympathy. Jared recalled how appalled he felt at the fumbled words, and their implicit suggestion that Mattson should be absolved of the death of his child. He felt some of the cold rage wash over him now, and had to remind himself that the memories he was feeling were from another person, about a child who was not his own.

  "He didn't accept your apology," Jared said.

  "I'm aware of that, Private," Mattson said, and sat there for a moment before he spoke up again. "So, who are you now?" he asked. "It's clear you have Boutin's memories. Are you him now? In your gut, I mean."

  "I'm still me," Jared said. "I'm still Jared Dirac. But I feel what Charles Boutin felt. I understand what he did."

  Robbins spoke up. "You understand what he did," he repeated. "Does that mean you agree with it?"

  "His treason?" Jared asked. Robbins nodded. "No. I can feel what he felt. I feel how angry he was. I feel how he missed his daughter. But I don't know how he got from there to turning on all of us."

  "You can't feel it, or you don't remember it?" Robbins asked.

  "Both," Jared said. More memory was returning after his epiphany at Covell, specific incidents and data from all parts of Boutin's life. Jared could sense that whatever happened there had changed him and made him more fertile ground for Boutin's life. But the gaps were still there. Jared had to keep himself from worrying about them. "Maybe more will come the more I think about it," he said. "But right now I've got nothing on that."

  "But you know where he is now," Mattson said, bringing Jared back from his reverie. "Boutin. You know where he is."

  "I know where he was," Jared said. "Or at least I know where he was going when he left." The name was clear in Jared's brain; Boutin had focused on the name like a talisman, burning it indelibly into memory. "He went to Arist."

  There was a brief moment while Mattson and Robbins accessed their BrainPals for information on Arist. "Well, crap," Mattson said, eventually.

  The Obin home system housed four gas giants, one of which— Cha—orbited in a "Goldilocks zone" for carbon-based life and had three planet-sized moons among several dozen smaller satellites. The smallest of the large moons, Saruf, lay in orbit just outside the planet's Roche limit, and was wracked by immense tidal forces that turned it into an uninhabitable ball of lava. The second, Obinur, was half again the size of Earth but less massive due to a metal-poor composition. This was the Obin home world. The third, of Earth size and mass, was Arist.

  Arist was thickly populated with native life-forms but largely uninhabited by the Obin, with only a few outposts of any size on the moon. Nevertheless, its close proximity to Obinur would make it almost impossible to assault. CDF ships wouldn't be able to simply sneak in; Arist was only a few light-seconds from Obinur. Almost as soon as they appeared the Obin would be moving in for the kill. Nothing short of a large assault force would stand a chance of extracting Boutin from Arist. Extracting Boutin would be declaring war, a war the Colonial Union wasn't ready to commit to even with the Obin standing alone.

  "We're going to have to talk to General Szilard about this," Robbins said to Mattson.

  "No shit," Mattson said. "If there was ever a job for Special Forces, this is it. Speaking of which"—Mattson focused on Jared—"once we drop this in Szilard's lap, you're going back to Special Forces. Dealing with this is going to be his problem, and that means you're going to be his problem too."

  "I'm going to miss you too, General," Jared said.

  Mattson snorted. "You really are sounding more like Boutin every day. And that's not a good thing. Which reminds me, as my last official order to you, get down to see the bug and Lieutenant Wilson and let them get another look at your brain. I'm giving you back to General Szilard, but I promised I wouldn't break you. Being a little too much like Boutin might qualify as 'broken' by his standard. It does by mine."

  "Yes, sir," Jared said.

  "Good. You're dismissed." Mattson picked up Babar and tossed it to Jared. "And take this thing with you," he said.

  Jared caught it and set it back down on Mattson's desk, facing the general. "Why don't you keep it, General," Jared said. "As a reminder." He left before Mattson could protest, nodding at Rob-bins as he left.

  Mattson stared glumly at the stuffed elephant and then up at Robbins, who appeared about to say something. "Don't say a goddamned thing about the elephant, Colonel," Mattson said.

  Robbins changed the topic. "Do you think Szilard will take him back?" he asked. "You said it yourself: He's sounding more like Boutin every day."

  "You're telling me this," Mattson said, and waved in the direction of where Jared had gone. "You and the general were the ones who wanted to build this little bastard from spare parts, if you'll recall. And now you've got him. Or Szi's got him. Christ."

  "So you're worried," Robbins said.

  "I've never stopped being worried about him," Mattson said. "When he was with us I kept hoping he'd do something stupid so I would have a legitimate excuse to have him shot. I don't like that we've bred a second traitor, especially one with a military body and brain. If it were up to me I'd take Private Dirac and put him in a nice big room that features a toilet and a food slot, and keep him there until he rots."

  "He's still technically under your command," Robbins said.

  "Szi's made it clear he wants him back, for whatever damn fool reason he has," Mattson said. "He commands combat troops. If we go to the mat on it, he'll get the decision." Mattson picked up Babar, examined him. "I just hope to holy fuck he knows what he's doing."

  "Well," Robbins said. "Maybe Dirac won't actually be as much like Boutin as you think he will be."

  Mattson snorted derisively, and wiggled Babar at Robbins. "See this? This isn't just some goddamned souvenir. It's a message straight from Charles Boutin himself. No, Colonel. Dirac is exactly as much like Boutin as I think he is."

  "There's no question about it," Cainen said to Jared. "You've become Charles Boutin."

  "The hell I have," Jared said.

  "The hell you have," Cainen agreed, and motioned to the display. "Your consciousness pattern is now almost entirely identical to what Boutin left us. There's still some variation, of course, but it's trivial. For all intents and purposes, you have the same mind as Charles Boutin had."

  "I don't feel any different," Jared said.

  "Don't you?" Harry Wilson said, from the other side of the lab.

  Jared opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. Wilson grinned. "You do feel different," he said. "I can tell it. So can Cainen. You're more aggressive than you were before. You're sharper with the retort. Jared Dirac was quieter, more subdued. More innocent, although that's probably not the absolute best way to put it. You're not quiet and subdued anymore. And certainly not innocent. I remember Charlie Boutin. You're a lot more like him than like who Jared Dirac used to be."

  "But I don't feel like becoming a traitor," Jared said.

  "Of course you don't," Cainen said. "You share the same consciousness, and you even share some of the same memories. But you had your own experiences, and that has shaped how you look at thing
s. It's as with identical twins. They share the same genetics, but they don't share the same lives. Charles Boutin is your mind twin. But your experiences are still your own."

  "So you don't think I'll go bad," Jared said.

  Cainen did a Rraey shrug. Jared looked over to Wilson, who did a human shrug. "You say you know Charlie's motivation for going bad was the death of his daughter," he said. "You have the memory of that daughter and her death in you now, but nothing you've done or that we've seen in your head suggests that you're going to crack because of it. We're going to suggest they let you back into active duty. Whether they take our recommendation or not is another thing entirely, since the lead scientist on the project is one who until about a year ago was plotting to overthrow humanity. But I don't think that's your problem."

  "It certainly is my problem," Jared said. "Because I want to find Boutin. Not just help with the mission, and absolutely not to sit it out. I want to find him and I want to bring him back."

  "Why?" Cainen asked.

  "I want to understand him. I want to know what it takes to make someone do this. What makes them a traitor," Jared said.

  "You would be surprised at how little it takes," Cainen said. "Something even as simple as kindness from an enemy." Cainen turned away; Jared suddenly remembered Cainen's status and his allegiance. "Lieutenant Wilson," Cainen said, still looking away. "Would you give me and Private Dirac a moment." Wilson arched his eyebrows but said nothing as he left the lab. Cainen turned back to Jared.

  "I wanted to apologize to you, Private," Cainen said. "And to warn you."

  Jared gave Cainen an uncertain smile. "You don't need to apologize to me for anything, Cainen," he said.

  "I disagree," Cainen said. "It was my cowardice that brought you into being. If I had been strong enough to hold out against the torture your Lieutenant Sagan put me through, I would be dead, and you humans would not have known of the war against you or that Charles Boutin was still alive. If I had been stronger, there would have never been a reason for you to have been born, and to be saddled with a consciousness that has taken over your being, for better or for worse. But I was weak, and I wanted to live, even if living was as a prisoner and a traitor. As some of your colonists would say, that is my karma, which I have to grapple with on my own.

  "But quite unintentionally I have sinned against you, Private," Cainen said. "As much as anyone, I am your father, because I am the cause of the terrible wrong they have committed against you. It's bad enough that humans bring soldiers to life with artificial minds—with those damned BrainPals of yours. But to have you, born only to carry the consciousness of another is an abomination. A violation of your right to be your own person."

  "It's not as bad as all that," Jared said.

  "Oh, but it is," Cainen said. "We Rraey are a spiritual and principled people. Our beliefs are at the core of how we respond to our world. One of our highest values is the sanctity of self—the belief that every person must be allowed to make their own choices. Well"—Cainen did a neck bobble—"every Rraey, in any event. Like most races, we're less concerned about the needs of other races, especially when they are opposed to our own.

  "Nevertheless," Cainen continued. "Choice matters. Independence matters. When you first came to Wilson and me, we gave you the choice to continue. You remember?" Jared nodded. "I must confess to you that I did that not only for your sake but for my own. Since I was the one who caused you to be born without choices, it was my moral duty to give one to you. When you took it—when you made a choice, I felt some of my sin lift away. Not all of it. I still have my karma. But some. I thank you for that, Private."

  "You're welcome," Jared said.

  "Now my warning to you," Cainen said. "Lieutenant Sagan tortured me when we first met, and at the end of it I broke and told her almost everything she wanted to know about our plans to attack you humans. But I told her one lie. I told her I never met Charles Boutin."

  "You've met him?" Jared asked.

  "I have," Cainen said. "Once, when he came to talk to me and other Rraey scientists about the architecture of the BrainPal, and how we might adapt it for the Rraey. A fascinating human. Very intense. Charismatic in his way, even to the Rraey. He is passionate, and we as a people respond to passion. Very passionate. Very driven. And very angry."

  Cainen leaned in close. "Private, I know you think that this is about Boutin's daughter, and to some extent, maybe it is. But there is something else motivating Boutin as well. His daughter's death may simply have been the discrete event that caused an idea to crystallize in Boutin's mind, and it's that idea that fuels him. It's what made him a traitor."

  "What is it?" Jared asked. "What's the idea?"

  "I don't know," Cainen confessed. "Revenge is the easy guess, of course. But I've met the man. Revenge doesn't explain it all. You would be in a better position to know, Private. You do have his mind."

  "I have no idea," Jared said.

  "Well, perhaps it will come," Cainen said. "My warning is to remember that whatever it is that motivates him, he has given himself to it, entirely and completely. It's too late to convince him otherwise. The danger for you will be that if you meet him, you will empathize with him and with his motivation. You are designed to understand him, after all. Boutin will use this if he can."

  "What should I do?" Jared asked.

  "Remember who you are," Cainen said. "Remember that you're not him. And remember that you always have a choice."

  "I'll remember," Jared said.

  "I hope you do," Cainen said, and stood. "I wish you luck, Private. You can go now. When you leave, let Wilson know he can come back in." Cainen wandered over to a cabinet, intentionally choosing to put his back to Jared. Jared stepped out the door.

  "You can go back in," Jared said to Wilson.

  "Okay," Wilson said. "I hope you two had a useful conversation."

  "It was," Jared said. "He's an interesting fellow."

  "That's one way of putting it," Wilson said. "You know, Dirac, he feels very paternal toward you."

  "So I gathered," Jared said. "I like it. Not exactly what I was expecting in a father, though."

  Wilson chortled. "Life is full of surprises, Dirac," he said. "Where are you off to now?"

  "I think I'll go see Cainen's granddaughter," Jared said.

  The Kestrel flicked on its Skip Drive six hours before Jared returned to Phoenix Station and translated to the system of a dim orange star that from Earth would be seen in the Circinus constellation, but only if one had a proper telescope. It was there to pick through the remains of the Colonial Union freighter Handy; the black box data sent back to Phoenix via emergency Skip drone suggested that someone had sabotaged the engines. No black box data was ever recovered from the Kestrel; nothing of the Kestrel was ever recovered.

  Lieutenant Cloud looked up from his lair in the pilots lounge, a table laid out with enticements to trap the unwary (namely, a deck of cards), and saw Jared in front of him.

  "Well, if it isn't the jokester himself," Cloud said, smiling.

  "Hello, Lieutenant," Jared said. "Long time, no see."

  "Not my fault," Cloud said. "I've been here this whole time. Where have you been?"

  "Out saving humanity," Jared said. "You know, the usual."

  "It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it," Cloud said. "And I'm glad it's you instead of me." Cloud kicked his leg to push out a chair and picked up the cards. "Have a seat, why don't you. I'm due to the prelaunch formalities of my supply run in about fifteen minutes; that's just enough time to teach you how to lose at Texas hold 'em."

  "I already know how to do that," Jared said.

  "See? There's one of your jokes again," Cloud said.

  "I actually came to see you about your supply run," Jared said. "I was hoping you'd let me deadhead down with you."

  "I'll be happy to have you," Cloud said, and began shuffling the cards. "Ping me your leave clearance, and we'll be able to continue this game on board. The supply transport's o
n autopilot most of the way down anyway. I'm just on board so that if it crashes, they can say someone died."

  "I don't have leave clearance," Jared said. "But I need to get down to Phoenix."

  "What for?" Cloud asked.

  "I need to visit a dead relative," Jared said. "And I'm going to be shipping out soon."

  Cloud chuckled and cut the deck of cards. "I'm guessing the dead relative will be there when you get back," he said.

  "It's not the dead relative I'm worried about," Jared said. He reached his hand out and pointed to the deck. "May I?" Cloud handed over the deck; Jared sat and began shuffling it. "I can see you're a gambling man, Lieutenant," he said. He finished shuffling and put the deck in front of Cloud.

  "Cut it," Jared said. Cloud cut the deck a third of the way down. Jared took the smaller portion and placed it in front of himself. "We'll pick a card from our decks at the same time. I get the high card, you take me to Phoenix, I go see who I need to see, I'm back before you lift."

  "And if I get the high card we try for two out of three," Cloud said.

  Jared smiled. "That wouldn't be very sporting, now would it. Are you ready?" Cloud nodded. "Draw," Jared said.

  Cloud drew an eight of diamonds; Jared drew a six of clubs. "Damn," Jared said. He pushed his cards over to Cloud.

  "Who's the dead relative?" Cloud asked, taking the cards.

  "It's complicated," Jared said.

  "Try me," Cloud said.

  "It's the clone of the man whose consciousness I was created to house," Jared said.

  "Okay, so you were absolutely correct about this being complicated," Cloud said. "I haven't the slightest idea what you just said."

  "Someone who is like my brother," Jared said. "Someone I didn't know."

  "For someone who is just a year old, you lead an interesting life," Cloud said.

  "I know," Jared said. "It's not my fault, though." He stood up. "I'll catch you later, Lieutenant."