Vanguard

by Jack Campbell

  “How did you get a job with Earth gov then?” Lochan demanded.

  “By showing the right people that I might have grown up on Mars, but I was not a Red,” Carmen said. “And once I could, I started telling people I was from Albuquerque. For some reason, most people think anyone from Albuquerque must be respectable.”

  Lochan Nakamura eyed her for several long moments before saying anything else, his thoughts hidden. “Why are you telling me all this?”

  Carmen ran one hand through her hair, feeling sick inside. “Because I need you to trust me. And the only way I can be sure of that is if I confess to you why many other people wouldn’t trust me. If I had kept it secret, and you had later learned of it, you would have had every right to wonder what else I was hiding.”

  He shook his head, one hand playing with his fork. “Carmen, what you were is a whole lot less important than what you are. Isn’t that the whole point of people coming out here to get a new start?”

  “They are bringing their pasts with them,” Carmen said. “No one is forgetting who they were or what they learned or experienced.”

  “All right,” Lochan Nakamura said, giving her a stubborn stare. “My past is I was a failure at everything I ever tried because I was so afraid of failing that I kept going it alone and trying to control everything, which just guaranteed that I’d fail again. You clawed your way out of a hellhole and have been trying to help people ever since then. Right? So which one of us is supposed to be an unworthy friend?”

  “Lochan, I’ve seen enough of you to know that’s not who you are.”

  “Not anymore. I was ready to change when I got to Vestri. The events and people there got me moving. And just as you said of me, I’ve seen enough of you to know what you aren’t,” Lochan Nakamura said. “All right, you told me. And I think more of you than I did before. Are you going to eat?”

  She looked down at her untouched food, then back at him. “Seriously? You’re okay with it? Lochan, I wish you were my type. You make a great friend, though.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m noticing an unpleasant trend down and out,” Lochan said. “I keep attracting the company of younger women who are only interested in my mind.”

  Carmen smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll find a woman who wants the rest of you as well. Maybe there’s one on Kosatka.”

  “If you’re right, we may be too busy on Kosatka for me to worry about romance,” Lochan Nakamura said.

  Carmen felt an odd twinge of foreboding at his words.

  • • •

  Getting ready for another short-notice departure was not Rob Geary’s idea of a good time, especially since it really was an emergency requiring him to get Squall moving as soon as he could. The freighters from Scatha, having worked at off-loading around the clock, had emptied out and were plodding back to the jump point. Rob had worried that they would leave one or both of the heavy-lift shuttles, which would have been able to operate with impunity once Squall was gone, but both shuttles had nested with the freighters again and were also departing. That problem, at least, was resolved.

  But before Squall could leave, there was more food to take on, a volunteer crew member who couldn’t be away from the planet for a month and had to be sent down to the surface, and a replacement to be found and brought up to orbit. Not to mention a long call to Ninja, who, of course, had already found out and instead of giving him a hard time offered her best encouragement.

  And there was a Marine to talk to during some of his very limited free time.

  “Mele Darcy?” Rob asked. He had chosen his stateroom for this conversation, wanting the privacy.

  She nodded back to him. Mele Darcy looked professional but guarded. She was standing in a field just outside the current limits of the city, wind ruffling her short hair, sizing him up at the same time he was evaluating her. “Yes, sir. Thanks for calling before you left. Council Member Camagan recommended that we talk.”

  “What exactly are you? Did the council approve your appointment?”

  Mele Darcy gave him a smile twisted by sardonic humor. “Not exactly. It’s temporary and provisional. I have now seen and heard those words enough to satisfy me for life.”

  Rob nodded. “I understand. My assignment is also temporary and provisional. What did they put you in charge of?”

  She grinned, a winning expression. “I am commander and sole member of Glenlyon’s Marines and Ground Forces.”

  “What rank did they give you?”

  “No rank. They rated me sergeant.”

  Rob shook his head. “At least they let me call myself a lieutenant.”

  “That’s all right, sir,” Mele Darcy assured him. “I won’t hold it against you.”

  He couldn’t help laughing. “You’re a sergeant, sure enough.” Rob rubbed his chin with one hand as he studied her. “I did a research paper once on Marine sergeants back on Old Earth. More than one Marine sergeant in the past ended up as a king or ruler of a small country.”

  She appeared to be both amused and puzzled by the statement. “That doesn’t surprise me, but what does that have to do with me, sir?”

  “You came in a fairly short time ago. No one has had time to develop any loyalty to Glenlyon,” Rob said. “You less than the rest of us. All we really have loyalty to is our ideals and our friends. What’s your game, Sergeant? What’s your loyalty to?”

  Mele Darcy nodded to him, her expression gone serious. “Like you said, Lieutenant. Loyalty to my friends and some ideals. I left Franklin looking for something else. I didn’t know what. I rode a ship to the end of the line, which turned out to be Glenlyon. It’s true I don’t have much history with you guys, but from all I can see, you’re decent people trying to do right by other people. And there’s no doubt that Scatha is trying to strong-arm you. So I figure I ought to help.”

  She sounded open and forthcoming, but then someone with big plans would know how to do that. “No long-term goals?”

  Mele returned his gaze. “Are you worried about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I tend to produce that reaction in officers,” she said, flashing another smile. “Lieutenant, if I was going to take over some place, I’d choose one that already had the system in place to take over. Like Scatha, maybe. I’ve got no experience with running planets or governments, and no interest in trying to learn. I’m a grunt. I hope I can put together a small force able to take down that base Scatha just set up. And I hope not to get killed in the process. Those are pretty much my long-term goals at the moment.”

  Rob nodded back to her, impressed despite his worries. “Did you hear anything on the way here about other star systems that were recruiting Old Colony vets?”

  “Yes, sir.” Mele Darcy grimaced and waved outward. “I came here via Taniwha, where there were recruiters in the bars looking for vets willing to sign on with places like Scatha and Apulu. Nice promises from Scatha, but I’ve learned the hard way not to believe every word a recruiter tells me. I already knew enough about Apulu not to want to go there voluntarily.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, sir. A little matter of nearly being hijacked to Apulu as part of a forced-labor scheme,” Mele Darcy explained in the casual tones of someone describing a minor event. “After escaping being a victim, I wasn’t going to play any role in that as an enforcer. So I asked around about Scatha. I didn’t like the word on the street, and I didn’t particularly like the sort of people they had recruiting for them. I’m not a mercenary who’ll fight for whoever pays me, and once I looked over the fine print, I didn’t like the sort of contracts they were offering. So I hopped a ride farther down and out, hoping to find a better option.”

  Geary nodded to her. “Do you want to be a hero?” he prodded. “Save Glenlyon?”

  “Oh, hell, no,” Mele Darcy replied with a laugh. “I just want to do what I’m good at to help people who need it. Fr
om what I hear, you’re the hero type. Captured that ship and all.”

  “No,” Rob said, embarrassed and uncomfortable at the idea. “I’m not a hero, either. You know I’m going to take the Squall to Kosatka to ask for their help against Scatha. Before we leave, I’ll plant some satellites in orbit where they can watch Scatha’s new base, but there’s not a lot else I can do for you until I get back. My greatest worry is that Scatha will send reinforcements before I return. Scatha has two destroyers.”

  Mele Darcy was clearly unhappy to hear that, looking upward. “Bombardment from orbit is not something I want to experience as a target. You hurry back, okay?”

  “I’ll do that,” Rob told her. “I don’t know what your plans are, and I don’t know what resources the government will offer you. But I was able to capture this ship thanks to Lyn Meltzer. There are other hackers in the colony, but none of them are nearly as good as she is. If a good hacker can support you in any way, I highly recommend you ask her for help and insist that the council authorize a contract with her.” He wondered if it was unethical to recommend a friend for a government job. But he had no doubt that Ninja would be the best help for Mele Darcy, and also that if Darcy did try anything against the government, that Ninja wouldn’t play along.

  “Lyn Meltzer,” Mele Darcy repeated back. “Does she understand the sort of support I’ll need?”

  “She’s former fleet from Alfar, just like me.”

  “Another lieutenant?”

  “No,” Rob said. “Enlisted.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Mele Darcy said. “I do appreciate the advice. I know two people who were headed for Kosatka, so maybe I can return the favor. If they’ve established themselves there, they might be able to help you. Lochan Nakamura and Carmen Ochoa.”

  “You think they might already have some sway at Kosatka?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. Lochan is a more talented politician than he knows, and Carmen Ochoa is straight from Old Earth. She worked in some sort of conflict resolution office.”

  “Conflict resolution is what we need,” Rob said. “I appreciate the tip even though new people might not have much influence yet.”

  “I’m new here, and look where I am,” Mele said. “Sir, we’re on the same side. I hope we’ve established that. I’m going to do everything I can to handle this problem with Scatha and keep faith with people like you. Good luck on your mission.”

  “Thanks,” Rob replied. He paused, wanting to say more to the only other person who might really understand. “Does it feel odd to you? Having this kind of responsibility? Because it does to me.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “We’ve got us an opportunity to excel. How many people you got on that ship?”

  “Fourteen. If I get another volunteer to make good on her promise to show up if needed. Far from a full crew.”

  “That beats me. So far I’m a one-person Marine Corps and Ground Forces.” She grinned again, an expression Rob found simultaneously reassuring, slightly disturbing, and a bit beguiling. “I’ll take care of the place while you’re gone.”

  After the call had ended, Rob spent a few moments thinking. Mele Darcy, he decided, was either just what Glenlyon desperately needed as it floundered about in search of ways to deal with a foe who had clearly already decided on its own course of action, or she was the sort of hero on a white horse who could do as much damage to her own side as to that of the enemy.

  Only time would tell. And he had to use some of that precious time right now to hopefully gain Kosatka’s support for Glenlyon.

  Rob called up the command displays to check on the status of resupply and whether or not Yulia Jones had made it up to the ship yet, muttering curses as the data froze and the “restart now?” prompt appeared. He was growing to hate that prompt, but Ninja had told him that HEJU code was prone to that sort of thing, so he’d have to live with it.

  He really hoped that “restart now?” prompt wouldn’t appear during battle if he ended up having to fight one of those destroyers from Scatha.

  Six hours later, Rob Geary dragged himself back to the bridge, thinking that at least once they left orbit he might have a chance to rest again. “All departments report readiness for departure,” he ordered as he took the command seat, gazing on the projected path on his display. It formed a long curve through Glenlyon’s star system, ending at the jump point leading back to the unoccupied star system of Jatayu, then Kosatka.

  • • •

  As Mononoke left jump space, the endless, bland gray disappeared, replaced by a universe full of stars, where even the emptiness between worlds felt welcoming.

  Lochan wasn’t sure if he felt so good because the Mononoke had finally reached Kosatka or because it had finally left jump space. “I’m not sure if saving years of travel is worth having to experience jump space,” he commented to Carmen Ochoa.

  She gave him an amused glance. “Try centuries of travel. If even that would get you this far down and out at achievable sublight speeds.”

  “I’m still not sure,” Lochan said, rubbing the skin on his arms. That skin had felt increasingly wrong the longer he had been in jump space each time, as if it no longer fit his body. The sensation had been disquieting enough that he had no desire to experience it again soon.

  He looked around the crowded lounge they were in. “Everybody could have watched us leave jump from the displays in their own staterooms, but we all come to places like this to watch it together. I guess humans are still social animals.”

  “Most of them, anyway,” Carmen agreed. Lochan thought she seemed preoccupied, as if worried. “But it’s also midafternoon ship time,” Carmen added. “I’ll bet if we’d left jump a few hours after midnight, the crowds would have been a lot smaller.”

  “What’s the matter?” Lochan asked her.

  She made a face. “I picked Kosatka as a place to head for because of rumors that old friends of mine on Mars had heard. Jobs to be had.”

  “What’s wrong with that? It’s a fairly new colony. They’ll have lots of jobs available as they build.”

  “What’s wrong with it is the skill sets that were supposedly being sought,” Carmen said. “The sort of skills that don’t build things but destroy them. And it wasn’t Kosatka’s colony openly recruiting for those jobs, it was someone working under the table. Whoever was seeking gangers for jobs on Kosatka was planning to cause more trouble. Earth had already heard of a few incidents when I left, but it wasn’t the sort of thing Earth wanted to worry about, not when it was so many light years away. I’ve been worried about what might be happening out here, so I won’t relax until I see the worst hasn’t happened. In a few moments, the ship will have picked up any news being transmitted through Kosatka Star System, and we’ll get to see it even though it’ll be hours time-delayed.”

  “This is Kosatka, not Vestri,” Lochan protested. “I thought our biggest challenge was going to be convincing people of the need to act before bad things happen.”

  “I hope that’s the case. I hope we’re going to be trying to get people to see the potential problems rather than dealing with existing problems.”

  Lochan gazed at the crowd around them. “Existing problems might make things simpler. In my experience, people have to be able to see the problems they’re being warned of. “

  “My experience was on Mars,” Carmen Ochoa said, her eyes still on the displays where the local news would appear once the Mononoke had processed the signals. “Where the problems were so big that everyone stopped believing that things could get better, so they refused to work together in ways that could have made things better.”

  “Which guaranteed that things wouldn’t get better.” Lochan shook his head. “I guess we have to hope for problems just bad enough to push people to want to do something and get them working together because they don’t think they have a choice.”

  “Do you mean fear?” Carmen Ochoa a
sked, her voice growing harder. “Fear is a great motivator. I know all about that. That’s why I won’t play that game. Fear can’t be leashed, Lochan. If you start using it, fear will run wild and cause things to happen that no one should want.”

  “I’m not hoping for something like that,” Lochan protested, feeling defensive even though he understood Carmen’s position. “I wasn’t talking about something we’d do to fan the flames or scare people. But if you’re right, somebody else is planning to do something. Somebody else is going to try to use fear because they’ll want to employ it as a weapon. Am I right?”

  She nodded, her eyes dark.

  “Everybody out here wants to be free to live their own lives and be independent and make all their own decisions,” Lochan continued. “Whatever we do has to take that into account, or we’ll be treated like that one guy did, accusing us of wanting to take away some of their freedom. That’s when people stop listening, when they think you’re going to take stuff that’s important to them.”

  “I hate to think something terrible will have to happen first,” Carmen said. “I wonder why it’s taking so long for the local news to be displayed?”

  As if in answer to her words, the view of the outside vanished from all of the displays visible to Lochan. Mononoke’s captain looked out at the passengers, her expression somber. “We will begin showing the local news in a minute. Before you see and hear it, I wanted to assure all passengers that there is no threat to this ship or anyone aboard her. There is no present danger. Everyone is to remain calm. At the moment, the ship’s officers know nothing more than the same information you will see. We have sent a message to the authorities in Kosatka asking for further details and any guidance they have, but it will be several hours before we can hear back from them. In the meantime, remain calm. I repeat, there is no threat to this ship.”