Rebel (The United Federation Marine Corps)

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  “We’ve heard some good news today. Henry Jugos coming is a really great thing for us. The fact that the courts sided with him against Propitious Interstellar is a sign, I want to think, that the Federation is finally shifting our way, at least in upholding the law. The corporations are not the law, and they cannot pick and choose which laws they will follow and which ones they’ll ignore.

  “But this is just one tiny chink in the corporate armor. Propitious Interstellar Fabrication is not about to reverse its standing policies just because Henry is getting involved. We have to force Propitious Interstellar to change. We have to force the Federation to uphold the law. And if Propitious Interstellar won’t listen to us, we have to take our case right to the top,” Franz said, using one arm to point up past the ranks of jacks and towards One Prop Inter Fab.

  As he said that, the jacks shifted in their ranks. Franz and those nearest B Street saw the movement.

  “See that, the thought of us confronting the Propitious Interstellar leadership gets their hired guns nervous. Well, we are going to confront them. We will not stand by as they abuse the system, making slaves out of us. Slavery has been banned for over 300 years, so why are we slaves for Propitious Interstellar Fabrication, Incorporated today? We won’t stand for it.”

  The crowd erupted into cheers and clapping. It kept going on, and finally, Franz had to hold up his arms to quiet them down.

  “My friends, Propitious Interstellar needs us. Without us, the stream of goods flowing into the marketplace, and more importantly, the stream of credits flowing into the corporate coffers, would cease. I ask, what would happen if we just stopped working? How could Propitious Interstellar survive?”

  Michi swallowed hard when she heard that. A strike was patently illegal, and Franz was skirting close to the edge. He could be arrested and jailed under Federal charges if he was convicted of instigating a strike. She wanted to catch his eye and motion for him to calm down, but he was on a roll. She looked over to Hokkam to see if he would put the brakes on Franz, but the chairman was simply smiling and nodding his head.

  “What would they do?” Franz continued. “They could not survive, and they know it. And that, my friends, is our leverage. Our labor, our sweat, the very thing that puts those profits in the bank.”

  Franz was interrupted again as clapping filled the square. Once again, he had to hold up his hands to quiet the crowd down.

  “I am not saying we should crush Propitious Interstellar or destroy it. We just need to get them to treat us according to the law at the least, and as partners at best.”

  There was stirring in back of the speakers’ platform. Franz turned around to look behind him before turning back to the crowd.

  “The PI goons evidently don’t like the idea of us being valued partners with the company. But just keep calm folks. We’ve done nothing wrong.”

  The jacks? What are they doing? Michi wondered, craning her neck to see over the platform.

  “Calm down, everyone. Don’t interfere with them,” Franz told the crowd.

  Michi felt panic start to rise in her, a welling from deep in her gut that threatened to take over her body. Franz hadn’t actually crossed any line, but he still was an indentured, and if the jacks wanted to take him into custody, they would. Michi was sure nothing Franz had said would hold up in even a Propitious Interstellar admin hearing, but people had the habit of falling down a lot of stairs while in jack custody.

  Cheri and a few others moved forward to stand in solidarity with Franz. Hokkam, however, actually edged further back on the platform, away from Franz.

  Chicken shit chairman, Mishi thought as she moved forward, intending to join Franz on the platform. Since Michi was a free citizen and not an employee, the jacks had very little authority over her, and she had vague ideas of trying to protect her fiancé.

  There was shouting in back of the platform and some screams as the jacks moved forward in lockstep, pushing aside anyone in their way.

  “Don’t resist!” Franz shouted out. “Let’s see what they have to say.”

  Michi pulled herself up onto the platform. From the higher vantage point, she could see the massed jacks bulling their way forward, several people falling down in front of them to be trampled under. Other people had turned and were trying to flee, but the mass of others in the crowd worked as a barrier.

  “Officers,” Franz shouted out, sarcasm oozing from his voice, “no one is offering any resistance. If you want to talk with me, just come on up. No one will stop you,” he said, holding his hands out as if he were going to be cuffed.

  Michi was walking across the platform to join Franz when the first shot rang out. She didn’t know from where it was fired, or even that it was a shot at first. It registered with her, but only peripherally. The fusillade that immediately followed was different, though. The jacks had opened up and bodies were falling in front of their ranks.

  “Franz!” Michi screamed as she bolted into a run to reach him.

  “Stop firing! Stop firing! We are not resisting!” Franz shouted, his mic turned up high so his voice reverberated throughout the square.

  He turned towards the jacks, running to the back of the platform.

  Panic erupted through the crowd as people started screaming and pushing to flee. More shots rang out from the jacks, and Michi saw more bodies fall.

  “Get down, Franz!” she shouted, just steps behind him.

  “I surrender, I—” Franz shouted, his voice cutting off as the front of his head exploded into a gout of blood and brain matter.

  Michi let out a mindless scream of terror as she closed the last few steps to her fiancé. She fell on his motionless body, pulling him up and into her lap.

  No, no, no!

  Franz was limp in her arms. There was a small hole in the back of his head, and as she turned him over, she slid into tunnel vision. His entire forehead was gone.

  “Get an ambulance!” she shouted to no one in particular. “He needs to get into regeneration. I’ll pay for it!”

  She was unaware of the screaming, the firing. She was unaware when the firing stopped. All she saw was Franz, his powerful body limp and lifeless in her arms. Someone, maybe Cheri, came up and tried to talk to her, tried to take her arms from around Franz, but Michi pushed her away. She was not going to let go until Franz was in the hospital.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that no one could survive that amount of damage. There would be no regeneration. But she refused to acknowledge that.

  When the jacks approached her, she screamed that she was a free citizen, that they could not take Franz. It took four jacks to pry her off of Franz. She fought them, but to no avail. They took Franz down off the platform and into a company ambulance that had driven up unnoticed bye Michi. As the doors of the ambulance closed, it was as if Michi was a marionette, with her strings cut. She collapsed into Cheri’s arms.

  She was unaware when her father arrived, when she was helped into his hover, when she got home. She was given a sedative and put to bed where she mercifully lost consciousness.

  Chapter 2

  “Are you OK?” Cheri asked as she got out of the taxi in front of the church and hurried up to Michi.

  “No, but as good as can be expected,” Michi responded.

  The last few days had been a blur. After Franz had been killed—murdered—Michi had been briefly held and questioned until her father, with Ham Harris, the family lawyer in tow, arrived at Propitious Interstellar’s holding cell and demanded her release. She had been taken to St. Graeme’s for a check-up, been sedated, and then taken home.

  When she woke the next day, the enormity of what had happened finally hit her, and she broke down and cried, alone in her bedroom. A couple of hours later, her mother poked her head in the room, and seeing Michi awake, convinced her to get out of bed and come out to the kitchen for coffee and a bite to eat. Only her mother and Talla, the family maid, were in the house. Her father was at work, her sister at school. It didn’t
seem right that they were just going about their normal routine at such a time.

  When her mother told her that the company jacks would not release Franz’ body, Michi almost ran out of the house to confront the bastards, but her mother held her back, telling her the union was working on it. Franz was an indentured, so the union did not officially have any capacity to be involved, but as they represented the 65% of free citizen employees of Propitious Interstellar, the company paid attention.

  It still took two more days, but finally, Franz’ body was released. With no family on the planet, Hokkam and Cheri had accepted custody, and the funeral had been planned for the next day.

  Cheri hugged Michi, murmuring, “I know, dear. We’re all devastated about this, too.”

  “What’s going to happen now? When’s the inquiry?” Michi asked.

  “Hokkam’s going to be working on that. He’s really taking this hard, you know, considering, so it might take him awhile to get his thoughts in order.”

  “Considering? Considering what?”

  “Oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t know,” Cheri said, looking to where Hokkam was getting out of another taxi. “He feels personally responsible for Franz’ death.”

  “Why?” Michi asked, momentarily confused.

  “Well, it was him that told Franz to up the ante, to mention force and hint at a strike. Hokkam thought it was time to elevate the pressure, and if Franz got arrested, it would bring more attention to our cause. He never thought there would be any shooting.”

  “Arrested? Franz thought he was going to be arrested?”

  “We thought it would be a possibility, yes. I’m so sorry, dear. If I had known what would happen, of course I would have stopped it,” Cheri said, tears forming in her eyes.

  “And Hokkam told him to go ahead anyway?” she asked, anger beginning to burn away some of the lassitude that had taken over her soul since Franz’ death.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” Cheri started. “Franz knew the risk, and he wanted to do it. Hokkam just—”

  “Michiko, dear, I want to tell you again how sorry I am about this tragedy,” Hokkam said as he came up, cutting off Cheri.

  He gave Michi a perfunctory hug and a peck on each cheek as Michi recoiled ever-so-slightly. A stark vision of Hokkam, edging back from Franz just before the firing started splashed in her mind.

  Not only does he tell Franz what to say, but then he hides from the consequences, Michi realized.

  Still, she allowed Hokkam to kiss her cheeks and express his regrets. She was saved from listening to more of his BS by the acolyte that came out and announced that the service was about to start. She linked arms with Cheri and steeled herself to enter the nave.

  As a member of The Clan, Michi was also a practicing member of The Kirk,[4] although as The Clan and the Kaitakusya had intermingled, Shinto was also observed by many. An amalgamation of religions was in the best tradition of Shinbutsu shūgō,[5] after all. She had never been in one of the planet’s Roman Catholic cathedrals, though, and was not sure of how they did things. So she was relieved to see the closed casket in the front of the apse. She wasn’t sure how she would have handled it if Franz had been in an open casket as she had heard was done elsewhere.

  Cheri escorted her to the second pew where they both took a seat. Michi was annoyed when Hokkam stopped at the same pew, and the two of them had to scootch over to give him room to sit, but she tried not to let it show.

  The service started, and most of it went by in a blur. The priest said some words, there was the singing of some hymns, and various prayers were made. It was actually quite similar to what took place in Kirk funeral services, which shouldn’t have been surprising as the Church of Scotland was essentially formed from the evangelical Presbyterian Free Church way back in the 1800’s, Old Reckoning. Presbyterian churches shared much of the same litany with Roman Catholicism.

  Michi stood up, kneeled, and followed along with the gathered mourners more by rote than by intention. After Hokkam stood up to say what a great man Franz was, Michi’s thoughts turned towards revenge. Not against Hokkam. He was just a cowardly ass. But revenge on Propitious Interstellar Fabrication, Inc., the ones who caused all of this. She didn’t know what she would do, yet, but only that the company had to pay.

  As Michi sat in a House of God, her thoughts were not on Christian forgiveness, but on vengeance.

  Chapter 3

  Michiko pinned the red wig she’d bought at Harrelson’s into place and then carefully pulled the hood of her cozy up and over her head. She checked the mirror one more time, but even with the wig, her face was deep within the hood, out of sight.

  She checked the rolled tissue she has taped inside each Clodder, up against the outer heel. Both were secure, so she slid in her feet, careful not to dislodge the taped tissue. She took a hesitant step in the heavy work boots. It felt different, at least. Whether it would spoof the surveillance cameras or not by giving her a different gait, she didn’t know. Super Agent Franny Justice had used the technique in “The Pullman Gambit,” but flicks didn’t always adhere to reality.

  Michi pushed open her door a fraction and listened. The house was quiet. She slipped out, crept down the stairs, and out the kitchen door in back. She checked her PA: 11:45. She had a hike in front of her. If she drove her Sullivan, the hover’s position would be recorded and could be evidence against her if things went wrong. For the same reason, she couldn’t very well call up a taxi, so it was a five km hike into the entertainment district.

  One thing she hadn’t considered was that with two cozies on, she was getting pretty hot. The night was cool, but the exercise and extra clothing was making the hike rather uncomfortable. She slowed down her pace to keep from overheating.

  Within 30 minutes, she was out of the residential area, the lights of the Slab visible ahead. She didn’t head directly there, though; she turned left, instead, down G Ave, coming across the first people she had seen since she left her home. A man and a woman were staggering past, leaning together for support, clearly drunk, and both in very good moods. Michi waited until they passed, then stepped into the small garden in front of the Krishna shrine. This was an area that Michi was positive was not under routine surveillance. She gratefully pulled off her cozy and sweat pants before stashing them in back of the far right bench. Underneath, she had on another cozy, this one with the Firebird logo of Lipper University on it. She felt a little weird wearing it. Michi was not a big proponent of interscholastic rivalry, but still, the Firebirds were the “other” university in town as opposed to Michi’s own University of Holcomb Diamonds.

  She settled this cozy’s hood around her face and then pulled out a few strands of the red wig so they were visible.

  You can still quit, she told herself. Nothing’s gone too far yet.

  But she didn’t turn back. Taking a deep breath, she walked around the shrine and went out on F Ave, a totally different person than the one who had entered from G Ave. Super Agent Justice would have been proud of her.

  It still took her another 20 minutes before she entered the Slab. It was almost 1:00 AM, and the party animals were out in force. Consequently, the jacks were, too, keeping the peace. Michi stood taller as she wandered through the bars, restaurants, hookah dens, and music venues, trying to find a target. Two drunk frat boys hooted at her, each raising his hand in the Firebird salute, but she ignored them. Unfortunately, the jacks were ignoring her, too. She tried to catch a few of their eyes, but with the hood over her face, a fat lot of good that did.

  She hadn’t really thought things through. She had a burning desire to extract some payback, but she didn’t really have a detailed plan. Even if she could catch the attention of a jack, what was she going to do? There were too many people out and about for Michi to do anything.

  There was a place, though, where things were quieter. Michi and her schoolmates had driven through the Gut a few times for kicks but had never even got out of the hover, much less wandered about. She had to pus
h down a little tremor that tickled at the back of her mind. The area had a reputation, and good girls didn’t go there.

  At that, Michi laughed out loud. Whatever she was, whatever she was about to become, a “good girl” wasn’t it. She straightened her shoulders and made her way past the city’s elite as they sipped their specialty drinks and listened to the latest zhoul or boxbox tunes. Michi had spent more than a few evenings herself doing the very same, but now she looked at the partygoers with more than a little disdain.

  How could they party when the PI jacks could get away with murder? she wondered.

  Michi walked several blocks more before turning right on Craxton. Immediately, the lights of the Slab disappeared.

  Welcome to the Gut!

  Several shapes stood in the shadows, rentboys and rentgirls plying their trade. They stirred as Michi made her appearance, but no one approached her. She didn’t look the part, she guessed. She was not dressed as one of them, nor did she look like a party girl out for a fling. Party girls did not hide behind cozies, and they did not wear steel-toed Clodders. It was just as well. Michi wanted to quietly fade into the further recesses of the Gut where she could lay her trap.

  A drunk came out of the darkness, making Michi recoil, but other than a slurred, “Hiya, baby,” the man was too far gone to be really interested.

  One huge advantage of the Gut was that there was no surveillance there. The company put it up, but the rentboys and girls immediately took it down. The fact that PI bigwigs came into the Gut themselves probably accounted for the fact that the jacks didn’t seem too dedicated to keep replacing the cameras. What happened in the Gut was not illegal, other than the inherent tax avoidance and some drug use, but still, not too many people in high places wanted their presence in the Gut widely known.

  After a few minutes of wandering, Michi found her own spot: a small, alley leading back to nowhere. She positioned herself at the front of the alley, a trapdoor spider monitoring her web. If a civilian came by, she eased back until she was in the darkness, only to edge back out again as he or she passed. It took more than an hour, and Michi was beginning to second guess everything, when a lone jack came sauntering by.