Stone Blade

by James Cox

  “My plan was pretty simple,” said Kidwell, “I put subliminals in the commercials. Praising Orris, suggesting First Orris, lauds upon him, variations on that theme. Others to dump sewage on Juch, Tollison and their bunch. I thought we'd replace the real commercials with these. More effective than several months of crowd-seeding.”

  “It is effective,” said Micah. Amazingly little time had passed considering the years it felt. “You want to try tonight? I think I can get us past security.”

  “No!” Kidwell stared at Micah. “No. I'm about three microseconds away from blasting those spools to ashes! You can't possibly be serious!”

  “I don't like it, Vera. I don't like any part of it but I've done a lot of things I don't like. But... It is effective. It works. Don't you think it'll help get Rob, Sarah, Missy and Lafe home?”

  Reluctantly Kidwell nodded.

  “And know for truth it would be a lot less bloody than sending in a lander full of Marines. For us and for them.”

  “So who's up for a run?” asked Ferrel impudently, “Vera, I think that place we blew open for fliers was just practice for this, yes?”

  ***

  “They have a timestamp,” said Kidwell, speaking softly as they walked, “I figured six weeks would be long enough.” She spoke hesitantly. Almost apologetically.

  “Sounds polar,” said Micah, “Vera, if you hadn't caught me by surprise...”

  “Double-slib,” said Ferrel, “Next time we warn you.”

  At night the UNA building made an impressive sight. Though the Unity psyche tended away from flashiness the UNA building embraced it, in a conservative way. Armed with the badges Ferrel quickly forged they approached a worker's entrance, flashed the badges at the camera there and entered with all the authority in the world.

  Each with a rack of dataspools, Kidwell, Ferrel and Micah joined the small horde of other errand-runners coursing through the hallways. When the traffic cleared a bit they darted for a side room.

  “Bonusjack,” said Ferrel, “Composing carrels and they're all empty!”

  Ferrel opened his terminal and jacked into one of the carrels. He squinted a moment, entered a key sequence and swiped their badges through his scriber.

  “There it is,” said Ferrel happily, “Now we're more official than taxes.”

  The door to the room opened and four harried men followed one wearing a severe expression entered. With barely a glance they strode to a pair of carrels well away from Micah and the others.

  “You kids go play, now,” said Ferrel, “I'm going to rest my broken bones and do some serious burning.”

  Micah frowned but said nothing. Easier to pull a swampshark's tooth than to separate Ferrel from a datajack.

  Moving with official bustle Micah and Kidwell soon found their target. Not wanting to risk picking the lock Micah slid his badge through the door's slot. It beeped and opened.

  “I'm going to tell him you doubted,” whispered Kidwell.

  The dimly lit rows of the main archives stretched before them. Kidwell queried a nearby terminal and moved purposefully down the racks. Every so often she pulled a spool and replaced it.

  “Done,” she said, “Almost. Seven are missing. Must be in the ready racks.”

  Despite Micah's better judgment they headed for the broadcast studios. The ready racks clicked and clacked in the middle of a too-busy room.

  “Polarize, lover,” whispered Kidwell, “Otherwise I'm going to tweak those nerves sticking out of you!”

  Much to Micah's chagrin, when he and Kidwell finally finished Ferrel didn't want to leave.

  “Be virtuous with patience, friends,” said Ferrel, “Who is the most suspicious of our dreary coterie?”

  “Ludurz?”

  “Tollison?”

  “Yes to both,” replied Ferrel, “Ludurz by nature, Tollison by acts. Neither of them eager for attention from Unity's most prestigious news service, yes? Just three tiny minutes more and they'll be receiving that very thing. Subtly, of course.”

  Micah sighed, gritted his teeth and waited.

  ***

  Kidwell rose early the next morning and gathered her apparatus. She vetoed Micah's idea to accompany her, citing his and Ferrel's need to rest and avoid aggravating their injuries. That and the fact that Shari knew and trusted her.

  Micah prowled the house for a few minutes then settled to think. And meditate. And try to find the evil trigger that had set him off. What little sleep he found was haunted by nightmares both old and new.

  Ferrel woke with cheer that only increased after he fixed breakfast. For himself and Micah.

  “I know you, my brother,” said Ferrel, “You haven't slept or eaten.”

  Ferrel's cast gnawed guilt into Micah but Ferrel took it, and Micah, in stride with an acceptance Micah simply could not fathom. Ferrel finally sat, looked solidly at Micah and spoke.

  “Sergeant Stone, we all have pasts. You do, I do and Vera does. Would you like a little dose of mine?

  “I remember a time, not too long past, a planet named Ceto and a sugar-cake mission there. Protect the locals in case the - highly unlikely and not going to happen - Consortium disaster occurs. Against all odds it did and suddenly I and one of my best friends were alone in a station full of Marines.

  “These bloodthirsty battle machines were currently under the lead of a simple sergeant. A man bearing an officer's burden without the bars. Neither John nor I thought we'd live long at all but this combat-crazy rat jock got us away from our station, down to the surface and in position to either attack the Consortium in a solid way or leave with no trace. The 'Mah-REENS' of course chose to attack. And I understood why.

  “Every one of those crazy jarhats knew they had a true leader leading them. A man who would lead them through the flames of Hades and bring them out the other side with a cold slosh and no burns. They knew they had a man of honor and character who would not let them down or let them stray. I understood that! I knew that man was one they would follow to death and beyond and one that I could follow too.”

  Micah squirmed as a new emotion chewed at him but Ferrel kept talking.

  “Micah, every one of those Marines that went with you knew they wouldn't be coming back. Just like you did. Just like I did. They went and I went because we all knew you, believed you, trusted you and trusted the ideals you live to serve and would die to protect. The man who led me into and out of Ceto is a man of honor and of integrity. One who can't be separated from them! One who lives and breathes them every second of every day.

  “I actually had a choice of several assignments after Ceto. Since I wasn't the dub in charge, etcetera, etcetera, due consideration, etcetera, etcetera, my choice. I chose to follow the man who took me past certain death as a matter of course.” Ferrel's grin popped back out in full force. “And my life since then has been more interesting and less boring than it had for a long time before!” Ferrel turned half-serious again. “Micah, my brother, I think you never really left. You could have killed us easily and efficiently and then moved to wreak havoc amongst the civs here. But you didn't. This,” Ferrel indicated his arm, “this is fixable and almost fixed. And just so you know it, I'm with Vera about what should be done to those bottom-feeding swine-rapers that put you through this in the first place. So you just suck it in, stick it out and move like you have a brain, scrubbie!”

  Micah had to smile at that!

  “Thanks, Charlie.”

  ***

  “News,” said Kidwell, dropping her devices on the table, “Shari said several of the girls thought their clients were tense. She didn't give names and I couldn't figure the hints but the bugs should tell us. Methinks our campaign has started well.”

  Kidwell opened Ferrel's terminal and powered it up. “Gentlemen, shall we?”

  Micah powered up his datapad, connected it to Ferrel's and grabbed a handful of Vera's bugs. Then they began sorting through three days of recorded whispers and uncomfortable conversations. Micah found little hard data but
the useful nuggets of it more than compensated for their scarcity.

  “Juch is an arrogant piece of meat,” said Kidwell, “I can't see him anywhere but top spot. He's not worried, even considering whatever Tollison has on him.”

  “And Tollison isn't fond of that,” added Micah, “They shouldn't need much pressure to turn on each other.”

  “Norril is definitely a first-stoner,” continued Kidwell, “The harder he sins the harder he looks. I wonder...”

  “Vera,” growled Micah. He knew the gleam in her eyes entirely too well. Her wheels had started spinning very, very fast.

  “Just an idea,” she said too mildly, “Shari and Lisa Ann are his two favorites. If they suggested, erm, extremes...”

  Ferrel's eyes brightened and he started working his terminal hard. Micah tried hard not to follow their uncomfortable trail of implication. And failed.

  “That could work,” said Ferrel, “If they'd play along.”

  “They will,” said Kidwell, eyes cold now, “Shari hates him and everything he stands for. Jilli's the only thing keeping her back.”

  Before they could plan much further Ferrel's terminal bleeped with a message from Ramsey.

  “Negotiations going poorly,” read Ferrel, “Not a surprise. That's exact, by the way. Mmmm... He'll probably have to move the T-group back into orbit soon. One of the prisoners isn't doing well. Doesn't say which. Brethren won't let any League medics close.”

  Micah felt a cold hand clench his guts.

  “Meeting scheduled tonight. Orris, Frond and Maas,” continued Ferrel, “Need we ride in?”

  After a quick look at Kidwell Micah shook his head.

  “Tell him we'll stay here and low until the ships move back in. We can gauge reactions then and work from there.”

  Ferrel nodded and composed, compressed and blipped the message.

  ***

  Midmorning the next day found Micah once again assaying the feel of the crowd around the Exchange. True to his concern Ramsey had moved the T-group in earlier. The ships took a high orbit which they shared, uncomfortably, with now-augmented Unity vessels. Ramsey hadn't blipped any data about the meeting but Micah didn't really need it. With Orris following his instructions and Frond simply being himself Micah could well imagine the fireworks there.

  Then came worse news. More Unity vessels had arrived from outsystem with still more expected. Micah didn't need a blip to know Ramsey would soon call in the C-group.

  A very serious Ferrel had worse news when Micah and Kidwell returned.

  “It's gone up another level. I got a blip from Ted. Ramsey has ordered evac for all non-essential personnel. Ted is going to the contingency ship and the local commander has requested and received permission for a B-group.”

  “That's insane!” said Kidwell, shocked with the first news and paling at the second, “He doesn't need that for a sabre! If they're detected it's as good as a declaration of war!”

  Micah shook his head.

  “They won't be detected, Vera. Battlegroups aren't for show. They'll stage within a microjump until called in and they'll show up hot and tight.” Micah remembered well his time with the Marines. “The group will have at least one troopship, if not two or three. They'll have Drop and Fleet and maybe Garrison troopies. They'll show up ready to cover their assets and all of the others and they won't be wearing their birthday hats.”

  “But policy...” started Kidwell. Then she fell silent. Situation dictated policy.

  “Ted advises us to evacuate,” said Ferrel, “The contingency ship has a StealthTAC and other similar hardware.”

  “And the hostages? What about them,” asked Kidwell, visibly disturbed, “And Jilli? The others? We can't just abandon them, Micah. We can't!”

  Ferrel stayed quiet but Micah knew he felt as Vera did. For certain truth.

  Micah called up the text of Ionoski's blip. It didn't vary from what Ferrel said but reading it gave Micah time to think. Micah knew Ramsey as a master of his art: subtle by choice, stern at need and aggressive as a last resort. The League hostages, relegated for a time to lesser importance, now came to the forefront again.

  The Unity soldiers would increase their guard. They would be moved to hardened emplacements, if not there already, and protected hard enough to make an attempted rescue more likely to kill them instead.

  “Micah...” Ferrel's hand on her arm silenced Kidwell.

  Evacuation would be tricky, if even possible. StealthTACs were stealthy. It could probably sneak down. They could easily arrange an appropriate pickup point and time. Not difficult. The danger would come later. The Unitites would allow the Stealth to land and embark passengers and apprehend it on takeoff. They'd pin it with atmospherics, move in, land troops and kill the ones inside it. Best case. More likely they'd capture one or more of the League personnel and parade them in front of the masses. Or the extraction might succeed. Micah, Ferrel and Kidwell would rejoin Ionoski on the contingency ship and head for their next mission.

  Alternately, Micah and the others could ground hard. Together or separate they could melt into a large enough population and outlast the conflict. Barring catastrophic circumstance or outright betrayal they'd not be caught. They would be more likely to survive and there would be no more League hostages. They might even have a better chance at rescuing the other hostages. Not likely but not impossible.

  When Micah closed his eyes he saw the farm. He saw the blast craters and ruined buildings and frightened civilians on Ceto. And on other worlds. He saw the Corpse soldiers blasting prisoners and unlucky civs for no better reason than robbing the League of its victory. He saw the colonel and the admiral with court-martial in their eyes.

  “We're not leaving,” said Micah, “Vera, Charlie, do you both agree that I am in command?”

  “Of course,” said Kidwell.

  “Micah...” On seeing Micah's expression Ferrel swallowed his words and grinned. “Yes sir!” Then he saluted!

  “Charles, record and timestamp please,” said Micah, “As of now you are both under orders. If you would like to leave I'll make arrangements. If you want to ground and fade you may do so.”

  “I choose to stay,” said Kidwell seriously.

  “I'm staying, sir,” added Ferrel.

  “Thank you. Both of you,” said Micah.

  Ferrel killed the recording, sealed it and blipped it away.

  “Vera, we'll need some serious projections. Our stew will have to cook itself for now. Charlie, I may need to send Ted a blip. Make sure he's the only one who will see it.

  “Now. Let's analyze everything we've got. Military criteria and control this time.”

  Chapter 16. Forging Steel

  Morning rose on troops scattered about the cities of Unity. The UNA and its rivals broadcast frequent assurances and reassurances. Interspersed were announcements of civilian curfews and other protective measures. The 'casts warned against orbital bombardment, biochemical weapons, TAC assault and any other threats the Unity planners could conceive. Each solemn broadcast advised measures to take and protection to seek. Hymns and sermons became equal parts truculent anti-League broadsides and determined assurance of the faith and solidarity of the Unity of the Triumph.

  The noon 'casts began broadcasting views of the prisoners, now being held at undisclosed locations, bound and guarded and with much pomp and certainty that they and the League sinners would break before the Unity even bent. The bloodthirsty aggressors would find no victory and only a painful, sinful and penance-filled defeat.

  After a furtive trip to lowtown Kidwell reported Delight and her ladies verging between apprehension and outright terror. They didn't let her see Jilli which concerned her even more.

  The second day of martial law brought uncharacteristic unrest to Unity's populace. Kidwell monitored the news, fidgeting and almost frantic.

  “It's my fault,” she finally confessed, “Micah, don't you see? The subliminals! Ludurz, Tollison and the others? Heaven! They're linked to the Circle.
They were just supposed to spark distrust. Micah, we may have riots! Or worse.”

  “We can't re-replace the spools,” said Micah with finality, “Security and attitude are both tighter now. I'm sorry, Vera, but the answer is no.”

  Kidwell swallowed her response. She switched off the holovee and headed for her room.

  “Poor kid,” said Ferrel quietly, “I know how she feels but there just isn't anything to do.”

  “I know how she feels,” snapped Micah, “And I refuse to let happen what she thinks is going to! Fire up your terminal. We're going to a non-government datamart. Get us an extra set of rets and our pistols.”

  ***

  “I'm in,” said Ferrel, “I probably set off a dozen traces but I have some grace. Message sent, what else to please you?”

  “Trash what you can,” said Micah, “Short and fast.”

  Two large and likely-armed men arrived just in time to try to stop Micah and Ferrel. After a few seconds of physical discussion they fell silent. And unconscious.

  “Split and luck!” hissed Micah.

  Micah took a long enough loop to check his backtrail before echoing Ferrel's. He observed Ferrel at their meet point and faded until the other man left. Micah ghosted after him looking hard for followers. After two fallback points Micah felt secure.

  Ferrel nearly jumped when Micah appeared beside him.

  “Clear,” said Micah.

  “Hellfrost! Why didn't you make the meet?”

  Micah shrugged. “You were hot on the term. I thought it best to cover your assets. Oh. Are your shorts clean?”

  “Rutting maggots! Yes. Warn me next time!”

  With careful eyes to their backtrail Micah and Ferrel worked their way to a certain refectory chosen at random and not close to anything significant. They didn't have long to wait. Georges alMarklin entered the refectory, purchased tea and sat to enjoy it.

  Micah approached alMarklin with a city map in his hand.

  “Pardon, brother, can you help me?”