Trial by Chaos

by J. Steven York

  They walked northwest, to an area where the freight rail leaving the spaceport crossed under the beltway. A long and dangerous-looking pedestrian bridge threaded between the rails below and the elevated beltway above. The commuter monorail tracks ran parallel to the bridge, but this was not one of the sections that had been restored to service after the occupation. He could see the damaged track silhouetted against the sky, like a giant fence with sections missing.

  They descended a long stair at the end of the bridge, coming down to street level. The street was dark, lit only by a flickering streetlamp at the far end of the block. The only vehicle traffic he saw was on a cross street several blocks away, and it was so dark he could not even be sure the street he was on was passable. It smelled of rotted garbage, and small, unseen things skittered through the darkness.

  Conner could scarcely believe this was a city, on a world that had once been the capital of a prefecture.

  The cities of the Rasalhague Dominion (or at least, the ones he'd seen; was he being naive to think they were all that way?) were mostly clean and orderly, and crime was rare. Children marched down the streets in their little practice formations day or night, concerned only about their next test or their Trial of Position, with no fear of being assaulted by a gang of lawless thugs.

  Here, even a rabid dog would fear for its safety. He had seen the city, seen destruction and squalor like this many times, but it all looked completely different striding by ten meters above the ground in the cockpit of a 'Mech.

  This was alien to him, but Karen must have known of it, must have experienced conditions like this and far worse in the dark days before Omega Galaxy arrived. He'd seen it in her eyes sometimes, a sadness, a darkness, a hurt that would never heal. This was what she had been fighting for. Or perhaps more properly, this was what she had been fighting against.

  "Darkness, decay and the end of all things."

  Reuben hesitated in front of him. "What?"

  He had not realized that he had said it out loud. "Just thinking. How bad things can be, literally just beyond your door. Our lives are so bright, efficient, disciplined and well organized; we do not imagine how close the darkness lies."

  "There are good people out here, Conner. People who need us, whether they know it or not."

  Conner was a little shocked that Reuben used his name, but he supposed that if their intent was to not be recognized as Clan, using his rank would be the most obvious mistake he could make. Still, he felt strange.

  No uniform.

  No rank.

  Even his Bloodname, if they used it, would hold no special meaning here. He'd spent his entire life in a uniform, from the sibko on up. Who was he when he took it off? He realized, with a mixture of distress and elation, that he had no idea.

  They turned onto another street, where more of the streetlights worked. The burned hulk of a Kinnol main battle tank stuck out of a crumbling masonry wall, but there were lights on in buildings up and down the block, and he could see a few ground cars making their way along the street.

  "This is like another world, this side of the freight rail," said Reuben. "Clan never come here without heavy armor. Except us." He led Conner a few meters along the block, then down a basement stair. He pulled out a pocket flash so he could see to enter a code on a lock. It clicked, and they stepped into a dark space.

  Conner unconsciously found the grip of the pistol in his jacket pocket. But when the light snapped on, there was just Reuben, looking at him curiously. "You're among friends, Conner Hall." He opened a heavy metal fire door, and the sound of voices came from within.

  Conner followed him through. Though most of the machinery had been removed, Conner could guess it had been a laundry of some sort, perhaps servicing the building above. Were they in an abandoned hotel? Or maybe a hospital?

  Inside was a group of people. He recognized none of them, though his experience with Reuben had taught him that did not mean much. Certainly they recognized him. as they all stopped talking and turned to stare, openmouthed.

  There were four men and three women sitting in a circle on folding chairs and empty packing crates. They had the strong, healthy appearance that was characteristic of Clanners, but Conner was startled to realize he had no idea of their caste without their uniforms.

  For all he knew, they all could have been warriors, though from what Reuben had told him it was unlikely any of them were. More likely they were mostly laborers, a few merchants and technicians. Maybe a scientist. Probably not.

  "My name," he said, "is Conner Hall. I have come seeking the Freeminders."

  A tall blond woman rose from the packing crate where she had been sitting and took a step forward. "My name is Selkis, Star Colonel. We had been told you were coming, but I scarcely believed it until you walked through the door."

  Conner hesitated. "My rank—my rank hardly seems appropriate here. You may call me Conner."

  She looked at him strangely. "I am only slightly less uncomfortable about that than you must be—Conner. But I admire the spirit in which you have approached us, and I will respect your wishes."

  He sized her up. She was a powerfully built woman, muscular and broad-shouldered. Her eyes had an alert intelligence that made it hard for him to believe she was a lower caste. She would not have looked out of place in a MechWarrior's uniform.

  "Are you the leader of the Freeminders?"

  She looked surprised, then laughed. The edge of her mouth crinkled when she smiled, in a way that was strikingly pretty. It was a stunning contrast to her superficial roughness. "Great Father, no, I am not the leader of the Freeminders. I am what we call a foreman, of this particular cell. Think of it as equivalent to a Star commander, except that there are three of us in this cell. Our command structure is redundant and somewhat loosely consensual."

  "I wanted to speak with the person in charge. Reuben told me he was on this planet."

  "Normally, a new recruit such as yourself would not be granted such a bold request, but you, of course, are a special case. I think the uKhan is just as eager to speak to you."

  "The what?"

  "The uKhan. That's the rank our leader came up with for himself. It means UnderKhan."

  "But uKhan? You realize it is a—"

  "A very bad pun? Yes, I do, and so does the uKhan. You will find that he has a sense of humor."

  "Does this uKhan have a name?"

  "Almost certainly, but I don't know it. Frankly, though I have spoken with the uKhan, I have never met him. Very few of us have. He is reportedly a very high-ranking member of his caste, and to reveal himself openly at this point would endanger his ability to aid us."

  "But he is here?"

  She smiled politely. "Not exactly. Please follow me."

  She led him across the room, past a line of broken plumbing and power connections where washing machines might once have stood, and through a door into an office marked, appropriately enough, foreman. Inside was a desk and two more folding chairs. A speakerphone device sat on the desk. There was a small tri-vid camera attached, but no corresponding screen to view the person on the other end of the connection.

  Selkis tapped a button on the speakerphone, and a small red light appeared on the camera. Conner was directed to the chair in front of the camera.

  "Who calls?" a voice from the phone asked abruptly. It was apparently male, but run through some sort of voice distorter so even that was uncertain.

  "This is Selkis. I have—the new recruit—to speak with the uKhan."

  "This line is secured. There is no problem in saying the Star colonel's name." There was a hesitation. "The uKhan is quite busy right now. Let me see if he can make himself available. One moment."

  The light on the camera went out, and Conner assumed the mike was muted as well. He looked at Selkis. "If you do not mind my asking, what caste are you?"

  She grimaced slightly. "We do not talk about that sort of thing here much, Conner. Our Clan minds are too neatly compartmentalized along those line
s. Once you know the caste of a person, it is hard to think of them the same way again."

  "I have already reached my conclusions about you, Foreman Selkis, and they are favorable. I doubt knowing would change that."

  "So you say, but to break from the old ways of thought is hardest of all for warriors."

  "Still—"

  Her eyes narrowed. "I am laborer caste, Conner Hall. What do you say to that?"

  His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  "You see? It is not as easy as you might have imagined, is it?"

  He finally found his tongue. "I do not understand how that can be."

  "There are many ways to test down, Conner. Many ways to find oneself in the laborer caste besides being the dull-witted simpleton that you might have imagined."

  He was almost relieved when the light on the camera came on, and a new voice spoke. This one also seemed male, and was deeper than the last, but it also had been modified electronically. "Conner Hall. What a pleasant surprise it is to see you there."

  "I do not like it when people know my name, and I do not know theirs. I do not like being seen, but not seeing you."

  "It's an unfortunate arrangement, I admit, and I can't blame you for being uncomfortable. But I have my reasons for my secrecy, and so far it has served me well, despite certain inconveniences such as this. I hope that, very soon, circumstances will change and allow me to reveal myself, not just to you, but to all my loyal Freeminders."

  "That will be a great day for you, then. It is hard to be king when your subjects cannot see you."

  The voice laughed deeply, and the voice distorter made it intermittently sound like someone gargling.

  "I'm no king, Conner Hall. I'm only a nominal leader, and I don't much enjoy the role. I don't want people ever to take the office or the person occupying it too seriously. That's part of why I chose my—-whimsical title. Frankly, one reason I'm looking forward to revealing myself is that it will open the way to electing a replacement.

  "You've met Selkis. I hope that her name might be one of those considered."

  Conner glanced over, and saw Selkis blush at the suggestion.

  He made eye contact with her. "I think that might be a very wise choice."

  Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. Then she smiled at the compliment.

  "If you join us. Conner Hall, new though you are to our cause, many might want to consider your name for leadership as well."

  He licked his dry lips and squirmed on the hard chair. "I think I might be exactly the wrong person for that job. I would certainly decline it."

  The uKhan laughed. "I don't believe you would lie, Conner Hall. Deception is a skill I've had to cultivate to maintain my secret identity, and that, too, is something I would be glad to give up. But in any case, that was the correct answer, or at least the one I was hoping to hear. I've long lived in both anticipation and dread of the day a Bloodnamed warrior might join us. While it lends great strength and legitimacy to our cause, it could upset our whole premise of caste equality."

  "But Reuben tells me that you still believe in the importance of the warrior caste."

  "All are equal. Some are more equal than others." He chuckled at some secret joke. "In the context of working life, we believe in the sanctity of the warrior caste. But within this organization, we must all be equals. You will note that they are not using your rank—"

  "That was my idea," he said.

  "It was, uKhan," added Selkis. "You had mentioned it to me earlier, but I was uncomfortable with the prospect and did not tell the others."

  The uKhan chuckled. "Selkis is surprisingly traditional at times, and bound to Clan ways. That's part of why I think she would make a fine leader. As for you, you have impressed me again. Perhaps you're far more ready to embrace the ideas of our group than I dared hope."

  "Some of them. I would like very much to see this Final Codex that everyone is so excited about."

  "You misunderstand. I don't have the Final Codex. I have seen it, and I uncovered copies of selected pages in a sealed Ghost Bear archive many years ago. I was able to secure copies of these copies, and they have been distributed through the Freeminders. But while I know the full text exists and where it is, my efforts to obtain it have thus far been unsuccessful. That, too, I hope to change soon."

  "If the Clan has this document, will it not be properly secured? Will they not miss it if it is gone?"

  "The Final Codex was suppressed more than two centuries ago, and likely forgotten when the Khans and Lore-masters who suppressed it died. Many archived documents and artifacts are secured by the Clans out of habit and procedure, rather than out of concern over what they represent. Much of our history is simply locked away and forgotten. That, too, I would like to end."

  "So I am to believe in this Final Codex, but I cannot see it?"

  "Selkis has copies of the known pages. She will see that you get copies for your own examination."

  "I suppose that will do."

  "You sound disappointed."

  "I am here seeking answers to questions that trouble me deeply. I had hoped to find answers in the words of the Founder."

  "Perhaps, if you are patient, you will. If you don't mind my asking, Conner Hall, why did you come to the Freeminders? What are these questions that trouble you?"

  He hesitated. These were things he barely dared say to himself, much less to some faceless stranger. But he had faced massed 'Mechs in battle; he should be able to face this. "I have come to love a woman."

  "Outside your caste?"

  It was hard to say. "A Vegan. A freeborn."

  "There is no shame in this, Conner Hall. You are among friends here. Your story is a common one."

  He clenched his jaw. "Not for a Bloodnamed MechWarrior of Clan Ghost Bear."

  "Perhaps not now, but one day it might be less unusual than you imagine. This woman, does she return your love?"

  He felt a tight ache form in his chest. With difficulty, and without complete success, he struggled to push the emotions welling up inside him back into their hidden places. His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. "She might."

  "Then I am happy for you."

  "There is little to be happy about. She is injured, in a coma, and may not recover. I may never know what her true feelings were."

  "Oh," said the voice. Then a pause. "Oh! You have my sympathies, Conner. Tragedy, loss: these are no strangers to the Freeminders. As Jorgensson and Tseng struggled to keep their family together, so do many of our people struggle for theirs. We aren't always as successful, though."

  Selkis looked at him. sympathy in her eyes. "I left a husband and two children behind to come here, Conner. I do not know if I will ever see them again."

  "You will," Conner answered, "if I have anything to do with it."

  "You sound committed, Conner, but are you really? There are many levels of commitment. I will ask you to do something momentous for the Freeminders, and I'd hardly blame you if you refused."

  "Will this request help people like Selkis? Like Reuben?"

  "More than you can imagine."

  "Then ask me."

  * * *

  Isis Bekker kept glancing from the senate proclamation in front of her to the shifting status display. Chance Elba had delivered on his promise, and the drafted proclamation was a rousing call for unity against outside incursion and betrayal at home. The voting would be going on about now.

  If the measure passed, and she was confident it would, she would need to give her speech. And once she did that, nothing, absolutely nothing, was ever going to be the same again.

  By now, of course, news of the execution scheduled for morning was traveling through the senate. She did not think it would hurt support for the proclamation. It might even help it. Give them something to fight for. Give them something to rally around. Give them something to fight against.

  Judging by the movement of the icons on her map, that last part was taking care of itself. There were new reports of enemy '
Mech movements a hundred kilometers west of the city. They were taking considerably less trouble to disguise themselves now, which likely meant they intended to show themselves in a big way very soon.

  Where was Star Colonel Hall? The absence of her military right hand had gone from an annoyance to a point of grave concern.

  She paced the length of the map, studying the red icons that indicated reported enemy movements. Potentially, they could be here within a few hours, though she doubted they would be here that soon. If Vega was lucky, it might be a day or two.

  She hoped they would be lucky. The Omega Galaxy had not returned to full strength after the long stand-down under Devlin Stone, and they had suffered heavy losses to antiaircraft fire upon arriving on Vega. She had long suspected that the unexpectedly sophisticated missiles that had brought down their DropShips and VTOLs had been supplied to the warlords by the Draconis Combine, along with the suspiciously up-rated but otherwise untraceable 'Mechs that they had encountered in local hands. Now it seemed confirmed. They had been pulling strings on Vega since well before the Ghost Bears arrived.

  "Galaxy Commander," Star Captain Durant spoke in Isis' headset. "We have just received a call from Star Colonel Hall. He is on his way here from somewhere in the city."

  She looked up at the command center. "Where has he been?"

  "He did not say, sir, only that he would be here shortly."

  Trenton climbed down the stairs from one of the galleries, a grave look on his face. "Galaxy Commander, there's a broadcast on the tri-vid that you need to see."

  She frowned. "What now?"

  Something in Trenton's expression stopped her questions. "It doesn't matter what station," he said, "it's on all of them."

  She picked up a remote and flipped on one of several tri-vid screens on the wall around the room. She was shocked to see Star Colonel Hall's face.

  His voice came from the speaker. "—Hall of the Ghost Bear Clan." He paused, and seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts.

  Isis looked at Trenton. "I thought we had control of all media. Where is this coming from?"