by Chogan Swan
Worried for us?
His concern touched her. “Not so much, then?” She put her hand on his cheek. “Thanks for letting me know. We were hoping we could negotiate with him for the common good of the different groups in our area. We need to work out water-sharing agreements so that everyone can cooperate.”
She sighed … a little theatrically. “I still need to talk to him though. We have to try negotiating. When we leave, you can come away with us if you aren't happy here, but we could use a friend in the area.”
Rusty's voice trembled. “Nobody leaves here. General Marston hunts any deserters down and hangs them.”
“So, he would consider even me a deserter, even though I only came here to negotiate for my own community?”
“Yes. You should run. Take your daughter and run while you still can.”
“Why haven't you run already, Rusty?” said Una. An uneasy sensation slid across her stomach from the emotions she was receiving from him.
Rusty's face paled even more. “He calls it, hobbling. People he doesn't trust … he cuts something on the back of one their legs so they can't run away.”
Una shut down her emotions. She needed to be cold as she dealt with this.
“You?” she said.
Rusty nodded.
“Show me.”
∆ ∆ ∆
Assegai, moving on silent feet, returned to the sentry post two hours later. Una looked up from where she was operating on an unconscious Rusty's left leg. Repairing the damage to his ligaments had taken an hour. The muscle repairs still needed more time. Una wished she had HumanaH's skills at healing humans instead of just the memories from ShwydH under HumanaH's teaching. She would have finished the operation already.
“How much time before the new sentry gets here?” Una said as she knit another strand of muscle fibers together and injected healing aids in the splice.
Assegai paused. A look of concern flashed across her face. “About ten minutes. How did he get hurt? Why is your voice so angry?”
“Because negotiations have failed before they started. I’ll be taking out General Marston today along with his officers. I need to send instructions to the team,” she said. “Please come closer so your sisters know what they need to do while I finish up what I’m able to repairing his hamstring. It seems General Marston doesn't like his people voting with their feet…. Hobbling, he calls it.”
Fury lit and burned in Assegai's dark eyes. She stepped closer to Una then turned to keep watch around them. “We're ready for your orders, Una. All of us.”
CHAPTER 25 – MEET THE NEW BOSS
Una held Assegai's hand as they walked through the tufted grassland and down the trail to the settlement by the river. Rusty followed them, cradling the ancient Russian rifle in the crook of his arm. Una could tell from the sound of his steps that he was following her advice to limp the way he had before. She’d been able to repair most of the damage to his leg, and it should continue healing. But it wouldn't be wise to reveal that just now.
The slow, irregular sound of a massive metal weight pounding on metal—coming from a primitive human-powered trip hammer—drifted to her from the river while voices shouted orders and curses.
As the settlement came in sight, Una already knew what she would see. XYMBI satellites and drones had provided plenty of confirmation.
They were rebuilding the dam.
Around the remnants of the old Gillespie Dam, human males were driving steel girders into the riverbed. A few of the workers were using an open pit latrine—conveniently located, but much too close to the river. That was the main source of the stench, but soon it became clear that not everyone used the latrines. The reek of urine soaked the bushes and piles of excrement dotted the ground around the paths as they wove through the tents and shacks to where a new mobile home had been planted in the center of the settlement.
The general's palace.
Una blew air through her nose in general disgust.
Most of the people they passed avoided eye contact, but cast furtive glances at them in passing.
As they neared the trailer, the people surrounding them changed. The limping, half-starved captives inhabiting the outer rim of the settlement abruptly changed to well-fed men with guns.
“Whatcha got there, Wussty?” said one of them—a man standing over a bucket, shaving his face with a tactical knife. “You know the darkies are supposed to go straight to field labor.” He leered at Una.
“She's a representative from settlements south of here, Captain. She's here to talk to General Marston,” Rusty replied.
“Oh, well that's different,” the man said with a grim laugh. “The general will want to send her to fieldwork himself … after he’s had some fun.” He turned his head to a man standing by the trailer door. “Arty, let the general know he has visitors,” he said and turned back to the mirror.
“Yes sir.” The man at the trailer saluted and knocked on the door of the mobile home.
While they waited, Una surveyed her surroundings. Rusty had told her the general had forty-seven officers. Sixteen of them were currently afield with hunting parties, combining the tasks of hunting game and tracking runaways. Aryana confirmed from satellite recon that none of those parties would be back today. Una counted nineteen officers around the trailer. The remaining twelve were either in the tents or out of sight nearby. They all wore black military caps.
It's their uniform. How convenient for us.
“Are you already monitoring positions of the black caps?” she said, glancing at Assegai. “There are twelve more around here I haven't located in addition to the nineteen I can see from here.”
“Aryana has located ten of those. She's been tracking them since dawn. Even from the air, we can spot who the bossypants are.”
“Good. Let me know if any of those come in weapons range.”
“Wilco.”
Una's lips tightened to hide her amusement. Since taking over group communication and coordination, the sisters had adopted their own hybrid military radio communication protocol. Una suspected it was more about the precision of the communication than because they thought it was cool.
Which is why it IS cool … They're cool.
She smiled.
I can't believe I'm using that word in my head, but at least it’s private.
In the background of her mind rose a mental picture of ShwydH wrinkling his nose in a niiaH smirk.
Una tapped her finger on her arm. As usual, her inner life was rich and confusing.
At last, the trailer door opened, and a woman draped in a stained crimson negligee opened the door to scowl at the guard.
“Visitors from the south here to speak to the general, ma'am,” said the guard.
The woman looked around a moment before spotting Una. When their eyes met, the woman laughed and spat before slamming the door. Una could hear her clearly through the walls of the trailer.
“There's a skinny darkie and her pickaninny here to talk to you, Marse,” she called.
Assegai frowned. “We find these terms offensive, Una,” she said, her lip curling back to show teeth.
“We will address the matter, shortly,” Una said.
Assegai shrugged. “Why don't we just go in after him?” she said.
“Because I want everyone to witness that he had a chance to surrender.”
“And when that starts, where do you want me?”
“I want you taking cover behind the big rocks near the trailer so you can keep me updated on everything.” Una started walking toward the trailer. “Ready now. He's coming out. Follow my lead.
The door to the trailer opened again, and Marston swaggered out—almost filling the door with his beefy shoulders. He’d evidently done some weight training but had stopped around a decade ago. He squinted against the sunlight and pulled his black cap lower over his eyes. Una was at the bottom of the stone steps waiting for him.
“George Marston,” she said in a voice that cut the air. “Under
Article 4 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, I arrest you for slavery and crimes against humanity. Will you come peacefully?”
Marston sneered and took the two steps down. Without a word, he reached across his body with his right hand and whipped it at her, a full-force backhand slap.
Instead of dodging, Una ducked her head like a striking snake, intercepting the exposed bones on the back of his hand with her forehead. The loud crack of his finger metacarpals shattering made way for his agonized scream.
Marston staggered back cradling his hand. “Grab her,” he yelled.
Una ducked behind him, jumping to wrap her arm around his neck and pulling her M1911 from beneath her cloak to cover the black-capped officers. She had to pull Marston back and down so her feet could reach the ground.
Assegai had already burrowed into the boulders by the trailer.
The first three of Marston's officers who raised their guns fell to the ground, their heads blossoming with brief spouts of gore. The simultaneous cracks of three .50 caliber sniper rifles rolled across the desert. Austin, Jacksie and Daniels had been set up at the crest of the hill 750 meters to the southeast since dawn.
“Everybody throw down your weapons and lie face-down with hands spread,” Una shouted.
Instead, the area started to empty as Marston's men bailed out, running for cover.
Una knocked Marston to the ground, scratching his neck with fingernails saturated with a coma inducer.
Then, snarling, she turned back to the scattering officers. “Let's see how much you like your own medicine, assholes.” Her 1911 roared as she put a round in the thigh of one of Marston's lieutenants and another in the ass cheek of the captain whose face was still splotched with shaving cream. The sparse vegetation left little cover for escape, and she managed to drop nine of them, killing one when he turned to shoot.
She racked a new magazine in the receiver, looking around for the next target.
Rusty, raised the AK-47 to his shoulder, and Una almost shot him, thinking he was about to fire at her.
“Behind you,” Rusty and Assegai shouted at the same time.
Una dove to the side, and Rusty's AK cracked, spitting out a three-round burst. Una rolled to her feet and turned. The door guard, Arty lay crumpled next to the trailer below splashes of blood and flesh dripping down the thin sheet-metal exterior. He’d smelled like a nice kid. Una had been thinking of him as a captive instead of a combatant.
Stupid, I should have known a bodyguard might stay loyal to Marston.
Una looked around. The remaining officers had disappeared. “Thanks, Rusty,” she said.
“Don't get killed, please. If you do, we'll all be captives again.” Rusty sagged against a rock.
“Una,” said Assegai. “Aryana has IDed the officers even though some are taking off their caps now. We still have twenty-two scattered around the settlement.”
Another shot sounded from the hill, rolling across the riverbed.
“Twenty-one,” said Assegai.
Una turned to Rusty. “Rusty, will the people Marston held captive in this settlement trust you?”
Rusty, still staring at Arty's corpse, startled and turned to look at Una. After a moment, he straightened his shoulders and pushed himself up from the rock. “I suppose we can find out.”
CHAPTER 26 – WON’T BE FOOLED AGAIN
Una lifted her tail between Abedabun's legs to keep her passenger from sliding off the perch on Una’s back.
“You should make a little platform to strap on your waist for us to sit, then you could use your tail for balance and other things,” Abedabun said.
Una couldn't help smiling at the teasing but hopeful tone in her voice. “I have no intention of doing this that often,” Una said with mock severity. “Making a saddle would only signal encouragement to you all.”
“Can we get a kangaroo and train it then?”
“I suppose you could petition the Federation to consider importing another potentially invasive species.” Una said. She kept her voice neutral, but Abedabun giggled anyway.
“I expect importing camels would have a better probability of approval, but they wouldn't be nearly as fun to ride,” Abedabun said.
“Well, hang on. Do you want lots of bouncing on the way then?”
“Yes please, Una.” Abedabun snuggled closer, holding tight to Una's harness.
On the way down the hill, Una spent more time in the air than she did on the ground, leaping from rock to rock or open patches of sand. When she stopped at the hollow that formed a small amphitheater near the settlement, she wondered if she might have enjoyed giving Abedabun the ride just as much as Abedabun enjoyed riding. Una lowered her to the ground, still laughing as she slid down Una's tail.
“Thank you,” she said “That’s even more fun than fighter jet combat simulation.” She turned and ran to join Assegai and Adelwolfa who were handing out water and MRE packs they’d found in a huge stash in Marston's trailer.
The sun was about two hours from setting, and the temperature had cooled enough for people to gather in the amphitheater.
The people invited to hear Rogue's Federation orientation speech, over 100 of those Marston had 'hobbled' or had family held hostage that way, gathered on rocks or sat in the dirt. They spoke in whispers with each other, but Una wasn't above eavesdropping to monitor the mood in case she needed to protect her team.
Jacksie and Austin circulated through the crowd, answering questions in friendly tones. They kept their bullpups ready, but made sure the weapons never pointed at anyone.
Una walked to the top of the ridge and looked down at the activity by the river. Daniels, Razor, Rusty and two others who Rusty had vouched for were guarding a work crew of people who’d collaborated with Marston and his officers.
The officers who hadn't been killed during the action this morning were all in comas awaiting trial. The Rodriguez sisters had used the drones to hunt down those who’d made it out of the camp, incapacitating them with drugged darts.
The rest of the collaborators—who’d agreed to work for a meal—were gathering manure from the cattle Marston had brought here. They also gathered the human manure from the latrines, outhouses and everywhere else. They weren't happy about it, but they were working. They were lucky to be alive at all, but Una doubted they realized it. In her experience, most people who collaborated with slavers were too self-centered to think that way. But she owed it to her own memories of ShwydH’s life of collaboration to give them a chance.
All the material gathered by the conscripted labor went to fuel a growing cluster of compost piles, contained by enclosures made from discarded pallets. The piles were strategically placed away from the river, but convenient to the new building site for the people who chose to stay.
Once built, the piles would be almost odorless as they rapidly converted the manure and other organic materials into sanitary humus by the thermolytic reaction caused by available natural microbes.
Aryana, standing next to Razor and wearing a charcoal-filtered mask, directed the compost build, using hand motions and occasional shouts to get the right proportions in the layered ingredients. Once the piles were built correctly, they wouldn't need touching again until the humus was ready to go on crops. Within a day, the compost would be cooking at over 150 degrees Fahrenheit, killing all dangerous pathogens within a couple of weeks. The complete conversion to humus would take longer, but the health risks would be gone.
Una used her tail to whisk a flat-topped boulder clean of sand and sat where she could keep an eye on both groups. Assegai, finished with her welcoming and feeding task, turned to gallop up the hill toward Una. When Assegai reached the top, she launched herself at Una who stood up just in time to catch her and whirl her in a double circle.
“Rogue is about to start talking now,” said Assegai. “She is so cool. We like her a lot.”
“Will you be able to hear her from up here?”
“Sure. Abedebun is standing next to her. I c
ame up here because I thought you'd like some company. Also, if there are any incoming messages from the Farm, I can relay them to you in real time.”
Una shook her head, embarrassed at missing the obvious and touched at the easy offer of companionship. Then a thought occurred to her. “Assegai, when I give one of you a ride on my back, do all of you enjoy it?”
Assegai laughed, holding her stomach and leaning into Una's side. Una could hear Abedebun and Adelwolfa echoing the merriment from the valley below.
“Most of us thought you would be month's figuring that out,” said Assegai. “But you’re right. When one of us is happy, we all share it. When one is hurt or sad, we all feel that too. And if we haven’t been close enough to be in real time contact, we get an update when we can physically touch. The four of us here are looking forward to updating with our sisters who are spending their time on studies and the flight combat simulator competition on the XYMBI computer network.”
