by David Drake
The carnival atmosphere would make a wonderful distraction for some sleight of hand. Merikur hoped Eitor and Fouts were paying close attention to the rest of the base. And then such thoughts were gone as Nola Rankoo claimed all of his attention.
“Prepare to die, General,” Rankoo said casually. It was clear she had no doubts about the outcome.
Merikur smiled, opening his mouth slightly as if getting ready to speak, and trapped her eyes with his. By the time she saw the kick, it was too close to avoid. Merikur’s right combat boot hit her in the stomach.
It was like kicking a cement wall.
Rankoo staggered backwards but didn’t fall. The marines cheered, but Merikur knew better. All he’d done was make her mad.
Rankoo came straight at him. Nothing subtle, nothing tricky, just a straight charge. Merikur went in to meet her and soon regretted his decision. She hit him three times before he was close enough to respond. Then, after his single ineffectual blow, she picked him up and threw him down. The impact knocked the breath out of him and blurred his vision.
Rankoo didn’t even bother to follow up. Instead, she stood there enjoying the cheers from her troops and the moans from Merikur’s marines.
“Nice moves,” his AID said cheerfully. “I assume you’re trying to make her overconfident. Keep it up. I think it’s working.”
“Screw you,” Merikur growled as he rolled over and got to his feet. Rankoo was about twenty feet away. He ran the first ten feet and dived into a series of forward somersaults just as Eitor had taught him. It had the desired effect.
Unsure of how to meet this unorthodox attack, Rankoo did nothing, which gave Merikur the opening he needed. He landed in front of her and clapped his hands Cernian style. Pain lanced through her head.
Rankoo brought her hands up towards the source of the pain. Merikur delivered two quick blows to her stomach and jumped back out of reach. A loud cheer went up from the marines.
As Rankoo moved forward, her eyes narrowed. Most opponents never hurt her at all. She didn’t approve of Merikur’s methods, but she was willing to wait. He could somersault all he liked, but eventually he’d tire, and then she’d break him in two.
###
Cado drifted along the edge of the crater like a ghost, stopping occasionally to watch the fight, but always moving on. Somewhere along the rim, he’d find the perfect spot. Finally, he found it, a place where a thick gathering of Haiken Maru security forces would shield him from view and where he’d have a good angle on Merikur. No one thought it unusual when he set up the tripod-mounted telescope. He was just another officer using his rank to get a better view of the fight.
###
Encouraged by his success, Merikur tried the same attack again. This time, Rankoo was ready for him. She accepted the twin blows to her head, grabbed him, and crushed him against her chest.
For one split second, he thought it was funny and then he began to suffocate.
“So hot-shot,” his AID inquired, “how are you doing now?”
“Just great,” Merikur subvocalized. “She’ll give up any second now.”
“Right,” his AID replied dryly. “Meanwhile, why not hurry things along? Go limp, then try for a head butt.”
Having no better idea, Merikur did as the AID suggested, going limp and lunging upwards as Rankoo loosened her grip. The top of his head made a solid thumping sound as it connected with her chin. Her eyes were slightly out of focus as she fell over backwards.
Merikur sucked oxygen and wondered if her jaw ached as much as his head did. If so, she was really hurting.
However, his AID was quite cheerful. “A successful ploy, was it not?”
“Yeah,” Merikur grunted under his breath, “a few more successes like that and she won’t need to kill me. I’ll kill myself.”
Both combatants edged through the rough floor of the crater. After two minutes of this, neither had closed to grapple.
Knowing he was there to buy time, Merikur was grateful for the big woman’s hesitation. Then, as if on signal, Rankoo’s actions became more determined.
###
Bethany had covered her body armor with a nondescript rain poncho. Gradually, she drifted away from the cheering marines and into the mob of security troops. By now a few marines had done likewise. No one gave her a second glance.
It took a while, but eventually she found Cado looking through his telescope and pretending to cheer. Fading into the surrounding crowd, she surreptitiously checked her auto repulsor and watched him from the corner of her eye.
###
“Watch out! She’s throwing a rock!”
Merikur dived to the side as a heavy object passed through the space he’d just occupied and thumped into the dirt beyond. It was a piece of bomb casing rather than a rock, but under the circumstances, Merikur decided to be magnanimous and ignore the AID’s mistake.
When Rankoo roared her anger and charged, he was still trying to get up. Her heavy boot caught him in the side and flipped him over. He rolled away and scrambled to his feet. The searing pain down his right side suggested broken ribs. If so, he was in deep trouble. No more trying to buy time; he needed to end the fight, and end it fast.
Rankoo charged once again, but tripped on the piece of bomb casing she’d just thrown and sprawled forward.
“Jump her!” the AID urged, and Merikur obeyed. He placed a knee on her spine, grabbed her hair, and pulled her head back. Rankoo tried to throw him off but failed. A little more pressure and her neck would snap like a dry stick.
###
Cado’s lips were drawn back in a snarl as he placed the cross hairs on Merikur’s back and armed the laser. The instrument in his hands was more than a fancy telescope. It was an industrial spot welder designed for situations in which the operator couldn’t or shouldn’t get too close to his work. It would slice through a man as if he weren’t there.
Bethany’s auto repulsor touched Cado’s right ear. “Hold,” she said, “or die.”
Cado’s finger was tightening on the firing stud when five shuttles roared in to hang over the compound. The sound of their drives nearly drowned out the voice which boomed through their external speakers.
“Attention below. This is Captain Von Oy, Pact Naval Forces, Cluster Command. By order of Governor Anthony Windsor, all Haiken Maru forces will lay down their arms and surrender. The alternative is death.”
###
Captain Yamaguchi’s wardroom was full to overflowing. A long buffet table was loaded with rich food. The bar was open and the buzz of conversation filled the air. Uniforms, both human and Cernian, dominated the room, but there were lots of bright civilian garb as well. Now that the battle was over and Windsor had won, the civilian population was eager to court the governor’s favor. They surrounded him like a flock of colorful birds vying to display their plumage.
Merikur had his own group of admirers. Some were genuine and some were false, but all smiled with equal enthusiasm. What with that, his uncomfortable dress uniform, his aching ribs, and his hatred for social situations, Merikur could have been quite unhappy. But he wasn’t. Much to his own surprise, he was having a good time. He’d won.
And then there was Bethany, a radiant presence at his side. She wore a gown of shimmering white and was easily the most beautiful woman in the room. In her, he had found the friend and lover he’d been waiting for all his life.
So Merikur was a happy man, though his eyes were a bit glazed, as Yamaguchi’s executive officer droned on about a recent control rod realignment to the ship’s main drives. Out of self-defense, Merikur’s mind drifted elsewhere, reviewing his present happiness and how it had come about.
Captain Von Oy had started work on the relief force as soon as Merikur’s ships emerged from hyperspace and radioed Augustine. By working his staff around the clock, Von Oy managed to round up three hundred marines, plus four hundred members of the local militia. They were loaded aboard a small fleet of ships and were ready to go within a few hours. Then, w
ith Windsor pacing restlessly back and forth across the bridge of his flagship, Von Oy had blasted for Teller.
Faced with a fleet of warships, the Haiken Maru transports surrendered without firing a shot.
The subsequent arrival of Von Oy’s shuttles over the firebase was part luck and part Fouts. While Merikur fought Rankoo and Bethany watched Cado, Fouts worked on the assumption that the Haiken Maru had a trick up its sleeve.
Having carefully limited the number of marines allowed to watch the fight, Fouts ordered the rest to search the compound. Outside the razor ribbon, Jomu’s rebels did likewise.
It was the rebels who’d found the hidden shuttle and the company of Cernian regulars, moving in on the east side of the base.
The Cernians were badly outnumbered. The survivors surrendered after a brief fire fight.
Meanwhile, Von Oy’s fleet had dropped into orbit. Seeing a chance to end the conflict with an overwhelming show of force, Fouts requested five shuttles. The shuttles burned every reg in the books as they dropped through the atmosphere and swept in over the jungle.
Nola Rankoo was still alive, as was Cado, as was Merikur himself. While Merikur celebrated, the other two were locked up dirtside. The only thing that bothered him about that was the possibility that they might go free someday.
The room fell silent as someone tapped a spoon against crystal. Windsor stepped forward and raised his glass. He looked regal in his suit and formal cape. “Gentle beings . . . I’d like to propose a toast. To the gallant general and his lovely bride!”
“Hear, hear!” All over the wardroom glasses were raised to Merikur and Bethany.
As the noise died down, Merikur raised his glass and said, “To Governor Windsor, to his vision, and to those who died making it come true.”
The eyes of the two men met across the length of the room. An oath was taken and loyalty was offered and accepted, all without a word being spoken.
Meanwhile, the crowd went wild. “Speech! Speech!”
As the applause finally died away, Windsor stepped forward to look around the room. He allowed the moment to build until every eye in the room was on him. When he spoke, there was passion in his voice.
“Thanks to those gathered in this room and to those buried in the soil below, a new day has dawned. Not just on Teller, and not just for one race, but for every planet and sentient in the Harmony Cluster.”
Several started to cheer, but Windsor raised his hands for silence. “As we bury our dead, let us also bury the hate and fear which led to their deaths, and affirm the birth of something better. From this day forward, all the sentients within Harmony Cluster will be equal before the law, equally represented within government, and equally entitled to the protection of that government.”
This time the applause was deafening and continued on and on. When it finally died away a second time, Merikur found himself sharing in Windsor’s popularity as people came up to pound him on the back or shake his hand. He was too busy to notice the com tech step into the wardroom and talk to Tenly, or see Tenly whisper in Windsor’s ear, or watch as all three slip out of the room.
###
Half an hour later, Eitor and Jomu sidled up to Merikur wearing their upside down grins and Cernian finery, short jackets trimmed with gold brocade, and pleated skirts. “We’ve been summoned to the captain’s day cabin,” Eitor said. “Some kind of get together. You and Bethany are invited, as well.”
“So, are you coming peacefully, or must we use force?” Jomu asked, doing his best to look menacing.
Bethany laughed. “Peacefully, I think. We wouldn’t want to anger the dreaded Jomu.”
“A wise decision,” Jomu said, offering her his arm. “Here, you can walk with me, while Anson and Eitor attempt to hold each other up.”
Merikur was feeling a bit lightheaded as they walked towards the bridge. And why not? He’d been drinking, the war was over, and he’d won. Or so it seemed until they entered Yamaguchi’s day cabin, which looked as he’d seen it last, though considerably more crowded.
Yamaguchi was there with Von Oy, Tenly, Windsor and two aliens of a species Merikur hadn’t seen before. Both were tall, pale, and draped over with robes of cartilage. They looked like ghosts wearing shrouds of white. The aliens bowed as the foursome entered.
Merikur tried to clear his alcohol-fogged brain as he bowed in return. This was more than the private celebration he’d expected. Judging from the look on Windsor’s face, much more. Merikur straightened as the governor spoke.
“Ambassador Relfenzig, Subambassador Dolwinzer, I would like to introduce my niece, Bethany Windsor-Merikur; her husband, General Merikur; my principal political advisor, Eitor Senda; and his brother, Jomu Senda, a Commander in the Cernian Army.”
Because Relfenzig’s eyes were big and shiny and his face hung in long loose folds, he had what most humans would consider a sad, lugubrious look. His mouth was hidden behind a drapery of tissue so that when he spoke his voice was somewhat muffled. “It’s an honor to meet you, gentle beings. May the soil break softly before your plow.”
Windsor gestured towards the empty chairs crammed against one wall. “If you’ll find seats, I’d like to hold a short meeting. I’m sorry to pull you away from the party, but as you will see, this is something of an emergency.”
Merikur took a seat and accepted a cup of coffee from Yamaguchi. As he sipped, he wondered what was going on. Why were the aliens here?
Windsor stood and looked around the room. “Ambassador Relfenzig and Subambassador Dolwinzer bring us important news. They come from the planet Strya in the Apex Cluster. Though independent, Strya had benefit of Pact protection, but fell into arrears on its taxes. As a result, human administrators were appointed to run the planet’s economy and a force of human overseers was brought in to supervise production. I’ll let Ambassador Relfenzig tell you the rest in his own words.”
Ambassador Relfenzig stood and bowed formally. “What I say will sound like slander on your kind, and for that I apologize in advance, but Governor Windsor assures me I must tell the truth. And the truth is that with rare exceptions, the human overseers have been cruel to my people.
“Under their orders, all Stryans over the age of ten must work in the fields. Those caught hiding children or parents are killed. Each year, new quotas are announced and they are always higher. Failure to meet a quota means death for every fifth person in that particular village.”
“And unfortunately,” Dolwinzer added, “this has happened many times,”
“Most of us accepted the situation in spite of this and tried to meet the quotas,” Relfenzig continued. “By working hard, we believed we could earn enough to pay off the back taxes and get rid of the administrators. A few favored an armed uprising. They pointed out that in spite of their superior weapons, the overseers were few in number and could be overwhelmed. But in the long run, while we might kill the overseers, more humans would come and we would suffer grievous consequences.”
“And that is how things remained until twenty-three Stryan days ago, when disaster struck the village of Dantha. This is a nine year, the time when the Mangdabla stage their cyclical emergence and lay waste to our crops. It is our practice to put part of the seven- and eight-year harvests aside to see us through the ninth, but this time, in an effort to make its quotas, the village of Dantha didn’t, couldn’t. And its crop was not merely decimated, it was entirely wiped out. Not only would the village be unable to meet its quotas, most of its citizens would starve as well.
“To most, this would seem punishment enough, but the overseers chose Dantha for a special example. All the children under the age of ten were placed in the empty storehouse. Then the overseers locked the doors and soaked the thatch with liquid fuel. A man called Larkin lit the fire with his cigar and laughed while our children burned.”
Here Relfenzig turned his back on them and Subambassador Dolwinzer stood. His, or perhaps her, voice was lighter somehow, though still muffled like Relfenzig’s. “Please forg
ive Ambassador Relfenzig. He means no discourtesy. His youngest son was among those burned in the storehouse and he has not yet recovered.
“You must understand that after the storehouse burned, there was a time of great killing. The human called Larkin was the first to die, crucified in Dantha’s town square. But he was not the last. Word spread quickly, racing from village to village like a terrible wind, and wherever it went humans died. They fought and their terrible weapons killed thousands, but eventually they died. For days, the stench of their dying filled every square on Strya.”
Dolwinzer was silent for a moment as if considering her next words. “You must understand that our revolt was not planned out in advance or, if it was, only a few knew. A few humans escaped. By now, the Governor of Apex Cluster knows.” Dolwinzer sounded regretful, though it wasn’t clear whether her sadness flowed from the human deaths or the fact that some had managed to escape.
“Yes,” Relfenzig agreed, turning to face them once more. “And now the governor will send his fleet, not simply to punish us, but to annihilate us. That is why we went first to Augustine and then came here. Governor Windsor proclaims that all should be equal before the law. We have sought his justice and protection.”
Chapter 14
When the Bremerton jumped for Strya, the resulting blackness matched Merikur’s thoughts. So black was his mood, he’d sought out a little-used observation dome in which to be by himself and think. Back on Teller, Jomu, Nugumbe, Von Oy, and Fouts were sorting things out, restoring order, and preparing for Rankoo’s eventual trial. Sure, they were capable—but Harmony Cluster was his responsibility, and that’s where he wanted to be.
