Stark’s Crusade

by John G. Hemry

  “What standard do you want to be judged by? You command combat troops, Ethan. They have to be willing to sacrifice themselves, and you have to be willing to sacrifice some of them. It’s a weird bargain, I grant you, but there’s a lot of different ways to handle it. Getting the job done while taking minimal casualties is something to be proud of.”

  “That’s the other thing.” Stark gazed morosely downward.

  “The other thing? You’re depressed because you keep winning? Ethan, you’ll never cease to amaze me.”

  “I’m serious. Winning too much can be dangerous. I was talkin’ to Mendo a while back, and you know what he told me? All the big shot generals in the past, even the very best, a lot of ‘em got to think they could win regardless of the enemy and the terrain and the fortifications and the weather and everything else. So they all ended up doing something stupid. Not just ordinary stupid. Spectacular stupid. And thousands of their soldiers died for nothing, and maybe they ended up losing the war they were supposed to win.”

  “That’s called a reality check, Ethan.”

  “So how come their troops have to be the ones who get blown away when the generals get their reality checks?”

  “I don’t know. Are you asking me why the universe isn’t fair?”

  “I guess I am.” Stark raised his head, determination replacing the moodiness of a moment before. “I’m grumbling about things not being fair like I’m some private just out of boot camp. Okay, maybe I can’t fix a lot of stuff, but I can change things right here and now. First I’m gonna tell Campbell if he wants our trust he damn well better trust us in return. Then I’m gonna make sure everyone’s sacrifice up here matters, Vic, and I’m gonna make sure heroes like Chief Wiseman get remembered. Maybe get a monument built, maybe get something big named after her. What do you think?”

  “I think losers don’t get to build monuments or name things, Ethan. Only the winners get to do that.”

  “Then I guess I’m gonna have to make sure we win.”

  Part Three

  Ends And Means

  Stark sat grimly in his chair, his bearing for all the world like that of a man before a firing squad. Off to one side, Vic sat facing him with a cheerfully encouraging expression. Stark took a moment to glower her way, then tried to fix a more positive display on his face. You promised. That’s what Campbell kept saying. You promised you’d talk to people if I asked you to. So here I am waiting to go on vid. I’ll probably say something so stupid they’ll show it in reruns ‘til hell freezes over. They won’t call ‘em bloopers anymore. They call ‘em Starks. Just watch.

  Vic gave him a thumbs up and received another glower. “You’ll be fine, Ethan.” Another display not far from Vic showed Colony Manager Campbell sitting with studied calm at his own desk, waiting patiently for the interview to begin. “Just think of it like you’re talking to your troops.”

  “Sure. Did you find out anything about how the commercial vid networks are planning to get this interview to the people back on Earth? The government will jam it for sure.”

  “They’ll try. The vid networks have a pretty impressive setup, Ethan. The interview will go out as a scattered, broadband, frequency-hopping transmission, each little piece of it tagged to be relayed by any receiver within line of sight.”

  “That’s a lot of receivers. But if all they pick up is government jamming it won’t amount to a hill of beans.”

  “Yup. I said it’s a scattered transmission, broken into a gazillion little packets, each repeated any number of times and carrying sequence tags. Unless the government jamming puts out a nova’s worth of noise, it won’t be able to catch them all. Not that the government could afford to do that, because it would shut down all communications. Imagine how that would play on the World. Anyhow, when the packets arrive at a receiver with the right software installed, they fit themselves back together using the sequence tags and you’ve got yourself an intact interview.”

  “Huh. That’s neat stuff. It’s like that story about the monster that breaks into little pieces to get into any place, and then reassembles itself and eats everybody. How come the networks are going to so much trouble to help us?”

  Vic grinned. “They’re not doing it to help us. They’re doing it because the ratings promise to be huge, and those ratings let the networks set their ad rates.”

  “I shoulda guessed. As long as it helps us, though…”

  A voice spoke from the air. “Interview will begin in five, four, three, two, one. Mark.” An image appeared before Stark, as if the woman were sitting in a chair just to his front. The vid personality smiled with bright insincerity at Stark, then slightly to his side. On the vid broadcast, Stark had been told, there would be a split screen, as if he and Campbell were sitting side by side. As far as a viewer was concerned, they and their interviewer would all appear to be in the same room. In fact, the vid personality was located in a shuttle far above the lunar surface, close enough so that light-speed lag wouldn’t inhibit the interview but far enough that the blockading warships wouldn’t be able to physically interfere until the interview was over.

  “Good morning.” The vid person’s voice had the same cool perfection as her clothes and hair. She looked, Stark thought, like a diamond. Very attractive, but hard and sharp enough to cut glass. He saw Campbell nod and heard the Colony manager’s answering greeting out of a speaker. Stark simply nodded, trying his best to smile back without making the gesture a grimace.

  The vid personality looked over to the other side, addressing an unseen audience. “This interview is illegal, according to our government, but we have taken steps to ensure the American people are informed on this critical issue. We are speaking this morning to the two individuals responsible for mounting the first large-scale rebellion against the federal government in two centuries. This event is important enough, in our opinion, to override the government’s attempts to censor whatever they have to say. The First Amendment, after all, has yet to be repealed.” She essayed another smile, apparently to signal ironic humor, then focused on the Colony manager’s position.

  “There is one overriding question on the minds of the American people, a question we have sought the answer to since this rebellion began. What do you want, Mr. Campbell?”

  “I want the rights of an American,” Campbell answered. “All the inhabitants of the Lunar Colony want those rights. The right to vote. The right to be represented in the national legislature. The right to petition the government for redress of wrongs.”

  “You are claiming these rights have been withheld from you?”

  “They certainly have. We have been denied every right due an American citizen. All our attempts to gain these rights have been summarily refused.”

  “The government has stated the Lunar Colony has been kept under martial law as a necessary element of its defense.”

  “I’m sure our military commander has something to say about that. Sergeant Stark?”

  “Yes. What do you say to that, Sergeant Stark?”

  The vid personality turned to face him, smile fixed in place. Stark tried to project confidence, despite his growing irritation with the interviewer’s odd habit of emphasizing random words in her sentences. Maybe she thinks it helps keep her viewers awake. Maybe it does. “Ma’am, the civilians in this Colony have been allowed to exercise all their rights to self-government recently, and the Colony is as well-defended and secure as it ever was. There’s no conflict between the exercise of their civil rights and our mission to defend the Colony.”

  “But, order clearly broke down during your mutiny, didn’t it?”

  “No. We maintained order at all times. We couldn’t have successfully defended the Colony if we hadn’t maintained order.” Vic was pointing to an exaggerated smile on her face. Okay, okay. I’ll try to stay friendly.

  “What are you defending the Colony for? What is it you seek? Mr. Campbell, you say you only want the rights of any American, but many people believe you really want to set u
p your own country, taking with you all the things which American taxpayers have spent vast sums to place upon the Moon. As an American, do you believe you have the right to simply take items of great value for your own?”

  “No.” Campbell’s voice stayed calm, reasonable, as if he were still working to belie the government’s prior claims about his mental stability. “The only Americans who think they have that right are the people who run our big corporations and occupy high political office.” He paused to let the barb sink in. “We have repeatedly offered to discuss a means of compensating for any items of value up here. We have repeatedly stated our desire to work out wage agreements which do not leave us in a state of effective serfdom. Negotiators from the government, with corporate representatives at their elbows, have refused to even discuss these issues.”

  The vid personality maintained her bright smile, even though it seemed increasingly out of place. “You did not address my main question, Mr. Campbell. Do you plan to seek independence for the Lunar Colony?”

  There was a moment’s hesitation, then Stark saw Campbell sigh in a gesture just subtle enough to avoid charges of stage theater. “At this time, it is certain a majority of the citizens in the Lunar Colony would support a declaration of independence. I want to emphasize we have been driven to this state by the actions of our own government, including government-sponsored attacks on the Colony which have resulted in the deaths of civilian members of the Colony.”

  “The government claims such deaths were actually caused by mutinous military personnel—”

  Stark’s anger was still flaring when Campbell broke into the question, his face working with passion. “That’s a lie. The military people up here have died to protect us. They have died protecting us from attacks by our own government! One of my own assistants, an unarmed civilian who couldn’t begin to defend herself, was killed by mercenaries hired to attack us. Mercenaries whose rampage was stopped by Sergeant Stark’s soldiers. Every citizen of the Colony would gladly entrust their lives to any of the military personnel up here.”

  To Stark, the vid personality seemed subtly satisfied by the fiery exchange, no doubt pleased by the thought that it would boost ratings for the interview. “Every citizen, Mr. Campbell? Surely there is some difference of opinion.”

  “Yes. Absolutely. I want to emphasize we are operating as a democratic government up here. So, yes, there’s still a significant minority who want to remain under the authority of the United States, but frankly I’m facing increasing pressure from the rest of the colonists to make a full break.” Campbell’s attitude had shifted as he spoke, so that he now seemed to be sharing a dialogue with the vid personality and her audience. “That means a formal declaration of independence. Begin governing ourselves, the way Americans should be allowed to. Have a strong voice in their own government. Get out from under our corporate masters and the band of corrupt politicians who only exist to serve them.” The dialogue had imperceptibly shaded into a populist declaration, delivered with earnest conviction.

  Stark barely kept himself from smiling. That guy is one helluva politician. In the best sense of the word. I hope I’m right about that “best sense” stuff, anyway.

  The vid personality smiled some more, apparently taking time to reorder her thoughts as the interview temporarily slid out of her control. “Why haven’t you done so, Mr. Campbell. What is stopping you from doing what you claim is right and just?”

  “I don’t know.” His words seemed to shock the personality enough to generate a nonsmiling reaction. “It sounds attractive. And as you say it sounds just. And right and proper. So, why don’t I want to do it?”

  “Well, that is, I’m sure our government would contest such a declaration most vigorously—”

  “Sergeant Stark’s soldiers can defend us. Isn’t that right, Sergeant?”

  Stark nodded. “Yes. No one will take this Colony by force.” Damn, Now she’s got me doing it.

  Campbell plowed onward, his voice almost beseeching now. “The authorities back home refuse to treat us as if we have legitimate complaints. Every legal alley is closed to us. All they do is threaten us. Why are they afraid of us? Why are they afraid to grant us the rights guaranteed by the Constitution?”

  “Mr. Campbell—” the vid personality began speaking in a vain attempt to regain control of the interview.

  “They don’t deserve to win, do they? They don’t deserve to lord it over people like us. That’s not how things are supposed to work in our country. So, why don’t I want to declare independence?” Campbell repeated, his tone half-helpless and half-angry. “What possible reason can I have for continuing to try to work for a peaceful resolution in which we stay a part of the United States? It can only be because our country can be, should be, so much more, and none of us want to give up on our country.”

  The vid personality waited a moment to ensure Campbell had finished. She’d apparently decided his speech would generate better ratings that her questions and seemed almost disappointed when the Colony Manager stopped speaking. “If I may be frank, Mr. Campbell, there are those who say you have no choice. That you are being coerced.”

  “Coerced? By whom?”

  The interviewer’s eyebrows rose dramatically. “By the military forces surrounding you, of course. You could not even consent to this interview unless this military person was present.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m the one who wanted Sergeant Stark present in this interview. I had to insist.”

  “In that case, why are you present, Sergeant Stark?”

  “Because I take orders from Mr. Campbell.”

  The simple reply seemed to throw the interviewer off balance again. “It is well known you have a very large military force under your command, Sergeant Stark. It is still Sergeant! You have not promoted yourself?”

  Stark felt his face reddening as Vic gestured urgently for him to remain calm. “I have no authority to promote myself, ma’am. Officially, I’m still a sergeant, and that’s what I’ll officially remain. As for the size of the military force under my command, that’s got nothing to do with my following Mr. Campbell’s orders. The military takes orders from civil authorities. Mr. Campbell is the civil authority for the Colony.”

  “But you have a very large armed force with which to enforce your will, Sergeant Stark.”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it. The military doesn’t give orders. It takes them.”

  “My audience is surely aware of the many unsourced reports available via uncensored media in which you are quoted as saying you would not attack your own country. Do you know the source of those reports, Sergeant Stark?”

  Dad. I guess you got the word out about our little talk. And it sounds like it’s been giving the government some trouble. Way to go. “Yes, I think I do.”

  “And will you tell us the name of that source?”

  “No. ”

  “Then how is my audience supposed to judge the trustworthiness of those reports?”

  Stark smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion. “They’re true. You can take that directly from me, now.”

  “Then you are willing to publicly foreswear any intentions to attack the United States?”

  “What?” Stark couldn’t suppress his shock at the blunt question, but Vic’s approving smile must mean showing his reaction had been the right thing to do. “Hell, no. I mean, I’d never order an attack on the U.S. Never.”

  “But, the government, Sergeant Stark? What of an attack on the government?”

  “No. I won’t attack the government. The government represents the people. It’s supposed to, anyway, and I won’t attack the American people. Never. It’s like Mr. Campbell said.”

  “What Mr. Campbell said? To which exact statement do you refer?”

  “He said that’s not how things are supposed to work. And he’s right. Maybe if we belonged to some other country, things’d be different. Maybe then the military would be giving orders instead of taking them. But the USA
is supposed to be better than that. Better than it is right now. I can’t change that. Not with military force. And I won’t. But I sure as hell will defend the rights of people like Mr. Campbell and his fellow citizens to try to change things.”

  The vid personality raised her eyebrows again, looking toward the unseen audience. “Sergeant Stark, do you honestly believe one man can make a difference?”

  “I sure as hell have.”

  Campbell was still chuckling when he called Stark after the interview. “Remind me never to debate you, Sergeant.”

  “You’d run rings around me.” Stark, still out of sorts from dealing with the vid personality, didn’t try to hide his discomfort.

  “Not at all. You certainly caught that interviewer flat-footed.”

  “I just said what I meant.”

  “They’re not used to that, Sergeant. Believe me. However, that’s not why I called. I need to talk to you, one-on-one, fairly soon.”

  “A private meeting?” Stark looked questioningly toward Vic, then nodded to Campbell’s image. “Fine. I can be there in about an hour.”

  “Excellent. Until then.” The screen blanked, then shifted to Stark’s prior setting, displaying a section of the lunar landscape.

  Stark’s questioning face changed into a frown. “I wonder what’s up. Vic, has Sarafina told you anything unusual is coming down?”

  “You mean ‘unusual’ besides constant threat of attack from our own country? No. Maybe he wants to apologize again for not warning us those blockade runners were coming with civ kids on board.”

  “He can apologize all he wants. I’ve told him the only thing that counts is knowing we’ll be kept informed in the future about that sort of thing. I’d also like to get my hands on those shuttle pilots, but Campbell says he has to handle it in civ courts.”

  “You could lean on him, Ethan. He’d give them up if you made it clear he had to.”