by Chris Bunch
“You think we can defeat the Musth?”
“Of course,” Brooks said scornfully. “We are ’Raum. Is there anyone among you who think the One who created us to rule would allow the Musth any victory? Why would the One contradict his simple message and deny us their worlds, the worlds of the universe He promised us?”
A moment of silence, then shouts of “no,” “of course not,” and some smug, satisfied laughter came. Brooks put on a smile, let it linger for a moment, then went on.
“So we can set aside that impossibility. We hit the Musth, we drive them back into their enclaves, then off D-Cumbre. From there, as the situation develops, we will be in position to attack them on their base world of E-Cumbre, and drive them from the system. With the riches of C-Cumbre ours we can rebuild and continue our triumphant expansion.”
“Again I must remind you about your willingness not only to create empires in the clouds, but attempt to move into them,” Brien said. “Return to this world, and what happens after we strike during these maneuvers. No matter how hard we hit them, there’ll be enough left of the Force to come after us, into these hills. That will be a brutal campaign, although I, for one, would welcome it, for it fits directly into our already-approved strategy,” Brien said with emphasis.
“In my plan, the Force does come into the hills after our victory,” Brooks said. “But we won’t be there to be targets.
“This revolution should … must … bury itself in the heart of the people. We can sit here in the jungle, and preach to the odd farmer, hunter, or peasant, and our numbers increase, but slowly, agonizingly slowly. And for each convert, we lose two to sickness and one to the Force? I do not like those figures.
“Other soldiers here in the wilderness are people like me, people who’ve given the most they can in the city and been forced to flee for their lives.
“I will be frank. I do not feel I am giving my full effort to the struggle, I do not think my talents are properly used, in these hinterlands. I was born and raised in Leggett, and worked in many jobs before I was forced to become a miner and joined The Movement.
“I know the cities, and they’re jungles more impenetrable than these hills. That is where we should be fighting the oppressor, for the targets are close, and easy to study. When we strike, we strike from such close range he can’t use his assault craft, his rockets, his missiles, his strike ships and his artillery.
“If that is the path we decide to follow, the pressure will be instantly increased. People hear of a patrol being shot at here on the Highland walls, and they yawn. But if an element of the Force is ambushed and wiped out in the heart of Leggett, and people see our power … victory is much closer.”
Brien started to say something, but Brooks overrode him.
“When we have a little power, PlanGov and their thugs will turn up the heat. Checkpoints, forbidden zones, brutality, all the criminal behavior of a tottering regime … the people will see at firsthand what we’ve been telling them about the reality of their world.
“They will hurry to join us, and the Force will panic and further intensify its persecution.
“It then becomes a feedback cycle, brothers and sisters. Instead of a handful of feverish, wan, emaciated half-forgotten jungle fighters waging a bitter war, the entire population rises in frustrated frenzy, and as they do, become our brothers and sisters.
“That is the day of real, final victory!”
Brooks stopped abruptly. There was complete silence in the canvern, and he felt the power build, felt the will of the twenty people strong within him, and someone applauded.
Brien was on his feet. “Brother Brooks is one of our most inspired agitators,” he said. “I think we should admire the power of his rhetoric. However — ”
“Forgive me for interrupting you, brother,” Poynton said. “I’m not sure these matters should be fully debated now, for our blood is running hot.
“I would suggest we table this discussion of Grand Strategy for a time, while we all have a chance coldly to consider it, and discuss it with our cell members.
“With one exception,” she said.
Brien’s lips pursed.
“I like what Brother Brooks suggested about using the Force’s maneuvers against the system,” Poynton went on. “We have been looking for a major action to show our strength.
“What is the matter with Brother Brooks’ idea? We would not be risking that many fighters, we would be striking far from our homes and secret bases, and there would be an excellent chance of doing major damage to our persecutors.”
Silence for a moment, and the members of the group eyed each other, consideringly. A man stood.
“I agree. Let’s hit them now, hit them hard, and then we’ll see what happens from there!”
Another, and then a fourth spoke up.
“I see,” Brien said coldly. “Brother Brooks has come up with a very popular idea. I must admit to reservations, but it may, indeed, be time we took the war home to the enemy. How many favor his plan?”
Hands went up.
“There is more than a majority,” Brien said. “I must bow to Brother Brooks’ eloquence, and make it unanimous. We shall begin planning the details at once.
“Now, it is very late, and I would suggest we break up this meeting. Some of us have long kilometers to travel and places we must be seen at by dawn.”
As the twenty picked up their gear, Poynton came to Brooks.
“There are those who might think this small action might give you a base to build from,” she said in a low voice.
“I suppose so,” Brooks said, indifferently. “I care little about that. What I care about is that there can be no real compromise for our struggle. Not now, not ever, not until total victory.”
CHAPTER
15
“Balls,” drawled Erik Penwyth, staring at the Recreation Center. “Just like the barracks, only painted more colors.”
“And a shittier location,” Njangu agreed. “The only thing we look to be close to is the sewer works.”
The Force RC did look like former barracks, clinging to a hillside overlooking Leggett’s biggest lubricant dump.
The five strikers wore undress khakis, short-sleeved shirts and shorts with matching knee socks and black-leather sandals.
“Balls said the queen,” Angie added, apropos of very little. “If I had’em, I’d be king?”
“Balls ain’t no big thing said the duke,” Garvin finished. “I got ‘em and I ain’t.”
“Ha. A capital jist, as I don’t say,” Njangu said.
“You five have fun, fun, fun,” Faull said. “I’ll see you in a week.” He hurried down the hill, and through the rather perfunctory security check at the Rec Center’s gate.
“Dump on us and run,” Ton Milot said. “What’s he got going?” He whistled, seeing a rather pretty, obviously pregnant woman embrace the ex- ’Raum. Beside her was a boy, two or three years old. “Question answered, the lucky dog.”
“And who’s she?” Erik wondered. “Is ouah Hank married? Or just cohabitin'?”
“Either way’s against regs, isn’t it?” Milot wondered.
“Sure is,” Angie said. “Shall we drop the heat a wink?”
Njangu Yoshitaro’s face went hard. “You want to nark him off, Rada? Why?”
“Dunno,” Angie said, looking uncomfortable. “He’s a ’Raum, isn’t he?”
“He’s one of us,” Yoshitaro said. “And snitches aren’t.”
“It was just a joke,” she said.
“Yeah, joke,” Njangu said.
“Hey, screw you and — ” the woman broke off. “Never mind, huh?”
Njangu was unmollified but had the sense to nod.
“If we’re through bickering,” Garvin said cheerfully, “is there anybody who really wants to stay in this fine joint, known for its heavily armed roaches since Buddha was a finf?”
“Big choice,” Milot said. “Unless you armored wicks get better pay’n we do.”
> “My folks gave me two hun for actually graduatin’ from something,” Penwyth said. “I’ll toss that in the pot, but I don’t think it’ll make much difference spread five ways.”
“Ah, so it’s nothing but a matter of money,” Jaansma said. “Shall I see what I can do about that?”
“You need juicing?” Njangu asked.
“Don’t think so.” Garvin held out his hands. “Now heed me well, brethern and sistern, and may thy prayers be with me, for I go forth among the unwashed and heathen, with the hopes of gladdening our hearts and enriching our life experiences.
“Brother Penwyth, select a place where we shall reassemble, one suitable to my soon-to-be rich-bitch status.”
“A very classy joint is the Shelburne,” Erik said. “Right down on the beach.”
“Then meet me there, perhaps by dusk, eh?” Without waiting for an answer, Garvin went toward the gate.
“I don’t get it,” Erik said.
“Our friend is doing what I think he calls hitting the hustings, looking for a sucker with credits, which he’d probably call pecuniary emolument,” Njangu said.
“Your friend sure talks pretty for a striker.”
“Your friend is pretty, for a striker or anybody else,” Angie said dreamily.
“Yeah,” Yoshitaro said. “He doesn’t like narks either.”
She moved close. “Hey, I’m sorry I said something wrong.”
“Forget it,” Njangu said. “Let’s go dump our ditty bags and check out Leggett.”
• • •
Leggett’s center was a broad park, with winding paths and lush gardens.
“Nighttime,” Milot said. “The hooks’ll be out over there.”
“Oh yeh?” Yoshitaro said, interested. “Any murphy men?”
“Huh?”
“Guy who hides in the bushes,” Njangu explained. “The whore lures the mark in, her mac slaps him upside the head, jackrolls him.”
“Hell no,” Milot said, sounding shocked. “What kind of an armpit do you think Leggett is, anyway?”
“Not nearly armpitty enough, evidently,” Njangu said. “Good money to be made dry-gulching murphy men. But I guess us noble sojers shouldn’t think like that. Lead on.”
• • •
The downtown streets were winding, close. The four soldiers pressed close to a small gravsled parked on the narrow pavement as a lift eased past.
“Expensive part of the world, eh?” Njangu asked Penwyth as he eyed a window full of jewelry.
“ ‘Tis that,” Erik said. “And if you got it, flaunt it.”
“Look at that,” Angie said, voice hushed. She was pointing to a show window with a single shoulder bag in it. The bag was shimmering gold chain mail. “Isn’t that flauntable?”
“Yep,” Erik said. “Only … six hundred seventy-eight credits. Two months’ pay. It’d go well with your dress blues, Angie.”
“Maybe we’d better go back to the park if you’re thinking like that,” Milot suggested. “Njangu could pimp for you, since I get the idea he’s used to crime. Or maybe I do, what did you call it, Murphy? Anyway, no soldier ever made enough money for something like that.”
“There’s a way,” Rada said dreamily. “There’s got to be.”
“So much for my marriage proposal,” Njangu said. “I’ll never be able to keep you in that sort of style.”
Angie laughed, slid her arm around Yoshitaro. “I’m forgiven?”
“For what?”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Hey, Erik,” someone shouted, and the four turned. Across the street a woman was waving.
“Jasith!” Erik shouted, and darted between two lifters. The others went after him through the heavy, slowly moving traffic.
Njangu decided the woman was worth risking death by antigrav for. She was model-slender, long black hair worn down either side of an oval face, about eighteen. Her lips were very full, and her sloe eyes promised infinite delights. Small breasts almost showed their nipples over her top, a multicolored silk kerchief casually tied around them with a bow on the side. She wore matching shorts and yellow high-heeled slingback sandals.
He watched enviously as she melted into Erik’s arms, but noted hopefully that she kissed him close-mouthed before she pulled back. “You make a very sexy soldier,” the girl said, her voice a throaty near whisper.
“I make a very sexy anything,” Erik said. “I heard you were workin'. Mellusin Mining’s on hard times?”
“Oh, you know, it’s so dead, and there’s nothing happening, and I thought I maybe would want to run some kind of store sometime, so Daddy wanted me to see what it’s like. Veeeehry booooring,” she said. “I thought it’d be interesting, selling lingerie, but it’s just like working in a butcher shop or something like that, I guess. ‘Though I don’t think I’d care about a twenty-five percent discount on rib roasts. Maybe I’ll get married instead.” She looked around. “Who’re your friends?”
Penwyth introduced them. “And this is Jasith Mellusin. She’s an old friend of the family.”
Jasith touched hands with the soldiers. She and Angie exchanged looks of instant hatred.
“So they let you out of your cage?” Jasith asked.
“Had to,” Erik explained. “I was just simply too good for them to believe. Supersoldier, standin’ right here.”
“Good is hard for me to believe,” Jasith said with a laugh. “But since you’ve got a furlough, or an AWOL or whatever you soldiers call it, I assume you’re going to Bampur’s party tomorrow night?”
“Nope,” Erik said. “Nobody invited me, now that I’m one of the uniformed unwashed.”
“Oooh, it’d be a tragedy if you didn’t appear,” Jasith said. “You must come. I’ve just invited you. You, and your friends. Allah knows we need new faces.”
Njangu bowed. “And if there’s faces like yours at the party, Allah knows we need you,” he said.
Angie glowered, and Njangu pretended not to notice. Jasith giggled.
“My friend here’s from Centrum,” Erik said. “He was on that ship that was taken by pirates.”
“You were,” Jasith said. “How’d you ever escape?”
“It’s a long and bloody tale,” Njangu said. “Not suitable for the ears of virgins, the easily shocked, or the young.”
“Well that certainly doesn’t include me,” Jasith said.
“No shit,” Angie muttered. Jasith pretended she didn’t hear.
“Tomorrow night,” she told Erik. “But don’t be deadly and show up before midnight.”
“I don’t even open m’ eyes before then,” Penwyth said. “We’ll be there … with bells on.”
• • •
“What’s in there?” Yoshitaro asked, eyeing a set of open gates.
“Where we don’t go,” Angie said.
“Why not? Looks colorful. And there’s four of us, all battle-trained and such,” Njangu wondered.
“It’s the Eckmuhl, the ’Raum section,” Penwyth explained. “We don’t go on their ground, they stay on theirs.”
“Nice society you got here,” Yoshitaro said.
“It works,” Angie said defensively.
Milot snorted. Njangu waited for his comment, but none came.
There were seven men about Njangu’s age just inside the gates. They were dressed flashily, and leaned bonelessly against the stone wall.
“There’s seven good reasons not to go visitin’ the ’Raum,” Erik said. “Local fellers of ill repute, who’d like to see the exact dimensions of our purses.”
Yoshitaro buried a grin — the toughs looked and stood about the way he and his friends had, back on Waughtal’s Planet. “Thanks for the tip,” he said, sounding sincere. “How deep does the ’Raum section go?”
“Three, p’raps four kilometers on a side,” Erik said. “Ends right up against the base of the Heights.”
“How many people live inside there?”
Penwyth shrugged. “A million? Maybe more? The census
doesn’t go inside, any more’n anybody else.”
“What happens when there’s trouble?”
“The ’Raum take care of themselves,” Angie said. “The coppers convoy half a dozen lifters through twice a day to pick up bodies. They don’t slow down much.”
“The second mate on my boat went in there once,” Milot said. “Nobody knows why. He always thought he was tougher’n anything. Maybe he spotted a girl. The heat found his head on the gate the next day,” Milot said. “We never heard no more. Not ever.”
“Subtle bastards these ’Raum, aren’t they?” Njangu said. “What about Hank? Won’t he get in the shit, being ’Raum and in the army?”
“Who knows?” Angie said. “The only people who think like ’Raum are ’Raum.”
“Guess that’s why the Force is so successful against the bandits,” Yoshitaro muttered to himself.
• • •
“Hey,” Njangu said. “Isn’t that yours?”
The sign read: RADA’s FOR EVERYTHING. It occupied about half a block and looked, from its cluttered windows, like it indeed sold everything. And at a bargain, for there were signs everywhere: IF WE DON’T HAVE IT, YOU DON’T NEED IT. NO PRICE UNBEATEN, EASY PAYMENTS, NO FOLD UNWELCOME.
Angie nodded reluctantly. “Yeh.”
“Whyn’t we slide in there,” Milot suggested, “and you get maybe six months’ advance on your allowance? That’ll grease us for the party.”
“No,” Angie said shortly. “Can’t do it.”
“Why not?” Erik asked innocently. “Here’s their own lovin’ child, just graduated from the hardest school the army’s got and all. Why wouldn’t they want to make some kind of love offerin'?”
“Love?” Angie laughed bitterly.
“What’s the matter?” Milot asked. “Don’t you get along with your people?”
“Leave it, ’kay?” Angie’s voice was sharp. “Just leave it.”
“Sorry I even bothered to learn to read,” Milot said. “Consider it left.”
Njangu let the others go on ahead, looked at Angie. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Not if it’s about my family,” she said. “Right now, that’s not something I can deal with.”
