In Her Name

by Hicks, Michael R.

  Of course it is, my friend, he thought sadly. He had liked Father Hernandez a great deal, and often thought how good it would have been to spend more time with him. But that was not part of Reza’s Way. He only hoped that Hernandez had found whatever it was in life that he had been searching for, and that his God would look after his soul as Reza wished the Empress might, but could not, after he himself died.

  “Well, now that I’ve got you depressed, I can at least say that there’s some good news. Tony and Nicole are doing great. Big surprise, huh? Nicole’s in charge of one of the training squadrons at the Red Flag range now (I’m her exec), and it seems that Tony’s been making quite a splash as a member of the Council. Seems like he hasn’t forgotten to be a Marine, anyway, the way he gives some of those candy-ass senators a good tongue-lashing.

  “Anyway,” Jodi went on, her recorded image taking on a smile that was radiant despite her evident sadness at the changes time had brought, “all three of us will be going to Father’s funeral, along with some of the others in your old welcoming committee. Even that stupid Rabat bitch loosened up enough to say she was going. Probably some kind of publicity stunt, I suppose.

  “So, I guess that’s it for now.” Her piercing blue eyes turned serious. “Please, Reza, take good care of yourself. Tony says he’s going to write you soon, too. And Nicole… well, Nicole seems to know when to write, so she’ll do it when it’s time. Tell Eustus I said hello, and Nicole promises to send him some more chocolate from Paris next month. I miss you, Reza. All my love to you.” She blew a kiss at him. “Bye until next time.”

  The transmission ended.

  Reza sat in the dark, alone with his thoughts. He wondered what would happen to him when all his friends were gone. Because he was so different from the others of his chosen kind, it was very difficult to make even friendly acquaintances, let alone meet someone with whom he could share a deeper relationship. Most of those in his graduating class at Quantico toward whom he had felt any kinship had either died or received medical discharges. Those to whom he was closest – except for Nicole and Jodi – were here with him, and had miraculously survived the perils they had faced over the years. But that could not last forever; they were stunning aberrations beside the Red Legion’s massive casualty statistics.

  A sudden surge in the activity beyond the canvas drew him away from his melancholy reverie.

  “Captain,” Hawthorne, his executive officer said, pulling the makeshift door aside with one tree-trunk sized arm. “Sir, you’d better come check this out. We’ve got a visitor at the perimeter.”

  “Show her in.” Reza had sensed the young woman approaching the encampment some time ago.

  Hawthorne only nodded, registering no shock or curiosity that Reza knew it was a woman who had come to visit them. He had long ago learned that his commander’s seeming lack of curiosity about elaborating information did not mean he was not interested; it was just that somehow he already knew. “Yes, sir.”

  As Hawthorne relayed the orders, Reza put his uniform on over the silken black Kreelan garb he had worn every day of his adult life, the collar of his heritage and standing among humanity’s enemy prominent above the neckline of his battle dress uniform. Carefully positioning the ancient dagger at his side, he went out into the pale yellow light of the command post.

  ***

  “You don’t understand, senator,” Belisle said urgently, desperately restraining his growing fury as he spoke to the life-size holographic image of Senator Borge. “This man destroyed one of the capital city’s landmarks, and threatened the entire colony with destruction if we didn’t deal with him.”

  Borge’s face took on a fatherly look that Belisle found maddeningly patronizing. “Karl, Karl, please, calm down. It is not that I doubt you, old friend. It is just that I find it difficult to believe that the people I dispatched to Erlang would do such a thing. The orders I laid down were very specific, and the command personnel chosen were, shall we say, of the highest reliability. I can only assume that there was a breakdown somewhere in the military chain. Please, rest assured that your interests are my interests, and I’ll do everything in my power to rectify the situation.”

  Belisle nodded. Borge was a man of his word, as well he should be. He had profited enough from Erlang’s riches. “What do you intend to do, then?”

  “Well, first I need to know the unit that’s causing you all the trouble, so I can track down where things went wrong and fix the problem.” He smiled like a wolf, except wolves did not smile with malevolence. “And if you could provide me the name of the officer in charge, I can… effect a change in his career development profile, as it were.”

  “A summary court-martial and execution would be nice,” Belisle muttered.

  “That could be arranged, I suppose. Now, who are these people?” Borge’s effigy motioned for someone to take a note.

  “I don’t know what unit it is. They never bothered to tell me.” His mouth puckered momentarily in a sudden fit of anger, then he went on, “But the officer in charge is a Marine captain by the name of Gard. I don’t know his first name.”

  For a moment, Borge did not speak, but his eyes widened perceptibly. “You said ‘Gard?’ Did he have long, braided hair and a Kreelan collar around his neck?”

  Belisle thought about that a minute. “Yes,” he said, suddenly feeling like an idiot. He had been so angry when Gard arrived that he had not noticed any obvious oddities. Perhaps because of the helmet he had been wearing? “Yes, by the Lord of All, he does. How in the devil did you know?”

  “Never mind,” Borge said grimly. “Karl, this man is extremely dangerous to our plans, and it is only the worst of luck that put him in charge of the Marine contingent I ordered to help you. I’ll be sending help immediately. In the meantime, do whatever you have to do to cooperate with him. Make whatever concessions are necessary.”

  “But that would mean–”

  “Just do it, Karl. Remember that it is only for as long as it takes for me to repair this misfortune. Any compromises you make can be undone easily enough. Am I right?”

  Belisle thought about it a moment. Giving in to the Mallorys would not be an easy thing, even for a short time. On the other hand, if he agreed to a “compromise,” he just might be able to lure their leaders out into the open and finish them off for good, an opportunity he had missed only by a hair five years ago. His mouth curled into a satisfied smile.

  “Yes, of course, Senator,” he said. “And this may give me the opportunity to finish some other long overdue… housecleaning.”

  “Good. I’ll have someone on this right away, and they will be in touch with you regarding the plans as soon as they are in motion.” Borge’s projected face nodded once in farewell, then the image faded into random sparks and disappeared.

  His spirits lifted, Belisle went to bed and his waiting mistress.

  ***

  “Please, sit down,” Reza told the young woman standing between a pair of his Marines who, while no taller than she, appeared enormous beside her in their combat gear. He nodded to them, and they quickly and silently left the command post.

  “Thank you, captain,” Enya said, having difficulty taking her eyes off him. He was so different from what she had expected. A tall man, lithe and strong, his body was well-muscled, yet sinewy like a cat’s. He would not have seemed that much different from many in his company were it not for an alienness that clung to him. She saw the collar around his neck and his long braided black hair, but was taken most with the jade green eyes that seemed to swirl with color in the dim lamplight. Groping for the chair that was poised across the table from where Reza stood, she nearly tripped and fell as she sat down.

  “You have nothing to fear here,” he told her, as he sat down on another of the simple folding field chairs. “You have come representing the Mallorys.” It was not a question.

  Enya could only nod. Having seen the arsenal that lay in this camp, and now the quiet power in this man’s eyes, she suddenly
understood the seriousness of what she was undertaking. If these people were to turn on hers, no Mallory would ever again know freedom. The fear that welled up within her at the thought only served to fuel her determination: she must not fail.

  “Yes,” she said, taking a deep breath and staring Reza right in the eye, which took much more willpower than she had imagined it might. Not to look at him, but to occasionally look away. “I am Enya Terragion, a member of the Mallory Party Committee. I am empowered to speak with you on their behalf.”

  “You are the ones who sought to ambush my troops at the spaceport?” Reza asked, curious to know if she would speak the truth. If she did not…

  Enya did not hesitate. “Yes. We feared that you had come to further oppress us, and the Committee decided to try and defeat you before you could add your firepower to that of the Territorial Army.”

  She heard a quiet snort off to one side, and turned to see a hulking black man who looked quick as a tiger, shaking his head as he turned back to whatever he had been doing.

  “I believe Mister Hawthorne is saying that you were very… fortunate, Enya Terragion,” Reza said, “that such an incident was avoided.”

  Enya nodded somberly. “We realized that today, when you destroyed the mountain. All of our people near the spaceport would have been killed, would they not?”

  “If not all, probably most,” Reza said simply. It was a fact beyond dispute. “I am glad things turned out differently.” He smiled. With his eyes.

  Enya blinked, trying to break the mesmerizing hold he seemed to have on her. “What do you intend to do here on Erlang?” she asked quietly. “Will you help Belisle herd us into the mines?”

  “That depends on you,” Reza said as Zevon, as if on cue, poured coffee for Enya. Suspicious that it was a trick, she only looked at it. Reza reached over and took a sip to prove it was safe, forcing the bitter liquid down his throat. He had always hated coffee. He set the cup back down on the table.

  “My orders,” he said through the bitter aftertaste, “are to ensure that the flow of minerals from the mines to Confederation shipyards continues without interruption. As I am sure you are aware, Erlang is virtually irreplaceable to the shipyards in this sector.” He looked at her pointedly. “Those are my orders. How I carry them out is largely up to President Belisle… and you.”

  “Meaning what?” she said coldly. She pushed the coffee away. “That Belisle calls your superior and orders you to do his bidding, and we are worse off than ever before?” She shook her head. “Do not play games with me, captain. We are willing to talk with you, but we will not sacrifice everything for which we have lived and suffered without a fight. We know that you blew up the mountain to frighten Belisle, and perhaps us; you succeeded on both counts. But what are we to do now that you have put the fear of God in us all? Our only real weapon is our willingness to work the mines, and it is a weapon we are ready to use, and will use – to the death, if necessary – if it is forced upon us.”

  Reza’s brow furrowed in thought for a moment before he spoke. “I pledge to you, as I have pledged to my Marines, that we will not turn upon your people, no matter our orders.” Not surprisingly, disobeying orders was almost a Legion tradition, and it did not grieve Reza to ignore orders that conflicted with either his instincts or sense of rightness, corrupted with Kreelan influence as some thought it was. Good fortune, however, had seen to it that he had only rarely had to act in such a fashion. “My people are warriors, not murderers, and I will be perfectly honest with you: my mission cannot succeed without cooperation from both your people and Belisle.”

  Enya twisted her face into a scowl of skepticism. “And how,” she said, “are we to go about doing that?”

  His green eyes fixing her like a deer in a beam of light, he said, “Your people and Belisle will negotiate, and quickly. The plans you make shall be your own. I will guarantee neutrality. You will do what all humans seem to love to do: you will talk. You will reach a consensus.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  Reza shrugged. “Then you both shall suffer. If your workers strike or destroy the mines, you destroy Erlang’s greatest defense against the Kreelans, which is providing raw materials to the shipyards for building warships that can protect you. As rich as your world is, by colony standards you have almost no ground defenses against a fleet assault. Worse, your Territorial Army seems more adept at police actions than waging war against the Empire. You would also push Belisle to vengeance, and his wrath would drive him to murder. The Territorial Army would be unleashed to slaughter Mallorys on a scale that I could not prevent.” He shrugged. “On the other hand, Belisle has every interest in keeping the mines open, regardless of the cost. Erlang’s economy and his own wealth depend on it. More than that, he cannot leave here with such blood on his hands. He will be exposed as a petty tyrant, a criminal and – if it comes to it – a mass murderer. No planet in the Confederation would take him.”

  Enya shook her head. “Belisle will never agree to it, no matter how little or how much we ask of him. The lines of hatred run too deep.”

  “He has no choice.”

  And what choice have we? Enya thought. What Reza said, while glossing over a great many smaller issues, was essentially true. If the Marines protected the Mallorys from punitive action by the Territorial Army and the police, and if enough changes could be made quickly…

  There was hope, she decided. There was terrible risk, but no more than they faced already. Mallorys had already placed charges on all but the smallest mines, enough explosives in the right place to collapse the shafts and destroy much of the equipment. But if the mines were destroyed, there would be no limits to Belisle’s retribution. And the outcome of a civil war between the Mallorys and the TA was not worth a moment’s contemplation.

  “On behalf of my people,” she said formally, “I accept your offer of neutrality and negotiations with Belisle. What are we to do?”

  ***

  To his visitors, Belisle appeared furious, yet resigned to the fact that the time for change had finally come. Having arrived in one of the armored skimmers, again escorted by two of Walken’s tanks, the Mallory representatives had walked into the president’s conference room and taken their appointed seats opposite their Ranier counterparts. Reza stood at the end of the table.

  “I wish to make perfectly clear my position in this matter,” he said. “I now act as an impartial third party mediator to your dispute until the proper authority has arrived from the Confederation Government.”

  “And who might that be?” Belisle asked, smugly thinking that he already knew the answer: a full regiment of Marines who would answer to him.

  “Someone who is much more adept at these matters than am I,” Reza said. “General Counsel Melissa Savitch.”

  Belisle’s mouth hung slack as the blood drained from his face. “That’s not possible,” he squeaked.

  The Mallorys, as well, were stunned.

  “Isn’t she the senior Confederation Counsel?” Enya asked incredulously. “Flattering as it is, why would she take an interest in this matter? Because of the mines?”

  “No,” Reza said, shaking his head. Melissa had stayed in touch with him over the years, and had become a welcome and cherished face in his small circle of friends. She had risen steadily until she had reached the pinnacle of achievement in her chosen field, now designated the highest-ranking member of the Confederation’s judicial wing. “It is because I asked her to come, and she agreed. It is good fortune that she was on a visit to Nathalie when my message reached her. She will be here in five days. I am acting local counsel until she arrives.”

  “You bastard,” Belisle suddenly spat. “You bloody freak.”

  “You test my impartiality, sir,” Reza said coolly, but the look in his eyes was close to what Belisle had seen just before his own likeness on the face of Haerding Mountain had disappeared.

  For a moment, Belisle did not know what to do. But then he remembered what Borge had told him bef
ore about anything done being undone easily enough. Let the good counselor come, he thought icily. He was sure that something fitting could be arranged. “Get on with it, then,” he said in only a slightly more cordial tone.

  Reza looked at him suspiciously, his mind ringing with alarms of intended treachery. But until Belisle exposed his intentions, Reza could not be sure, nor could he act. He decided that he would be very careful with this slippery serpent.

  “Mr. Mallory,” Reza said to the leader of the Mallory Party who represented two-thirds of the souls on this planet, “please, sir, begin.”

  Slow and rocky though it was, they took their first steps upon the road toward a true democracy.

  Thirty

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come along with us, captain?” Enya asked. “It’s a truly beautiful place.”

  Looking up from the paperwork Zevon had forced upon him, Reza shook his head. “No thank you,” he told her, smiling. “I appreciate your offer, but I have much to do here.” He knew quite well that she fervently hoped he would say no, for purely personal reasons of her own. “Perhaps another time.”

  “Are you sure, captain?” Eustus asked valiantly, also hoping against hope that Reza would say no, but he felt honor-bound to ask. “Zevon always has you doing too much paperwork crap, you know.”

  Reza fought to keep from smiling. Sometimes, he thought, being able to sense the emotions of others must be more interesting than actually reading their thoughts. Eustus was helplessly, hopelessly in love with the young woman standing close beside him, and Enya felt the same about Eustus. The Marines had only been planetside for two weeks, but the changes had been little short of miraculous, especially after Counselor Savitch had arrived to oversee things. Sensing something malignant in Belisle’s mind, Reza had assigned two of his best Marines to be her bodyguards, despite Savitch’s vehement protests. They went with her everywhere, including the bathroom (both Marines were female). He had since gotten the sense from Belisle that whatever he had been plotting would not be put to the test, but there was something else about him that Reza was missing, something the man knew that fueled an inner fire of arrogance and patient vengeance. But what?