Cluster Command: Crisis of Empire II (14 page)

Outside, Merikur froze and prayed his infrared signature would pass as a warm rock. The sound of the tractor’s engine and the squeal of its tracks became a roar as the train passed by him. Damn. An opportunity missed. Well, at least the road was well-traveled. Tomorrow he’d find the perfect spot.

###

He was up early the next morning, walking west with the sun behind him. It threw a long shadow up the road. He hadn’t gone very far at all when the AID yelled in his ear. “Aircraft! Hit the deck!”

Merikur did as he was told, diving for the ditch at the side of the road. Seconds later, the aircar screamed over and buffeted him with its slipstream. He rolled over on his back as it roared away and swore. It was a marine scout car!

“It’s one of ours,” he said. “Try and reach it!”

“I’m trying,” the AID replied, “but our ships are using some sort of a computer-controlled jamming program. Designated frequencies open up on a computer-controlled rotating basis and I can’t keep up with them.”

Merikur stood and dusted himself off. “Damn.”

There was silence for a moment and then the AID said, “I’m sorry. Maybe the pilot would have seen you if only I hadn’t told you to hit the deck.” The AID actually sounded contrite.

“It’s OK,” Merikur replied. “We all make mistakes.” He stepped onto the road and headed west.

It was ten minutes before the AID spoke again. “If I feel pleasure when I’m right, then maybe I feel pain when I’m wrong.”

“Seems logical,” Merikur agreed. “How do you feel right now?”

“Pretty bad.”

“Join the club. It’s all part of being sentient.”

“Am I? Sentient, I mean?”

Merikur thought about that for a moment. “I don’t know what the scientific types would say, but it seems to me that you think, therefore, you are.”

“Descartes.”

“You’ve got it, Pal.”

There was silence for a moment and then the AID spoke once more. “Thanks, Anson.”

“No problem. Besides, maybe they’d have blown me in half before they got around to checking my ID.”

###

Half an hour later, Merikur found the perfect location. The road had started up towards the crest of a low hill. He chose that point to roll a number of largish rocks onto the road. The vehicles would simply surmount them or push them aside, but it would take a moment and that would be his chance. The exact placement of the rocks was dictated by a fortuitous branch overhanging the road that was just wide enough for Merikur to lie on. They might spot him, but his chances were pretty good if he limited his ambition to an ore car. Passenger vehicles obviously wouldn’t work; people tend to notice when generals land in their backseats out of nowhere.

After positioning himself on his strategic branch, there was nothing to do but wait. Four hours later, his throat was parched, his muscles were stiff, and the back of his neck was sunburned. Gritting his teeth, Merikur took a break. After stretching himself, rubbing some ointment on his neck, and sipping some purified water, he felt better. He took his place once again. The sun hammered him as the minutes slipped slowly by. Eventually, he fell into an uneasy sleep counting on the AID to awaken him if something came his way.

It did. “Company’s coming, Sleepy Head.”

Merikur’s eyes snapped open. A few moments later, he heard the rumble of powerful engines and felt the branch vibrate. Still, it seemed like an eternity before the huge, blunt-nosed tractor rolled beneath him, enveloped in a great cloud of dust.

There were six ore cars. He’d try for the last of them.

Just as he’d hoped, the boulders momentarily slowed the train. He watched as the fourth car, then the fifth car, and finally the sixth rolled under his position.

Merikur took a deep breath and rolled off the branch. At that same instant, his AID flooded the crawler’s radios and intercom with high-gain electronic gabble.

Both the driver and the guards were too busy grabbing for earplugs to notice a body fall into the last ore car with a puff of dust.

The ten-foot fall knocked the wind out of Merikur’s lungs and left him gasping for breath. Then he started to sneeze. The noise concerned him at first, but after he managed to bring the sneezing under control, he realized the tractor was so loud he could sing “All Hail the Pact” without being heard. All he had to do was keep his head down and hope they didn’t conduct routine inspections of each car. Given the possibility that rebels were lurking behind every bush, he didn’t think they would.

Satisfied that he was temporarily safe, Merikur scooped out a shallow place in the loose ore, lay back and watched the sky. Clouds formed fantastic shapes as they marched across the sky. On one occasion, he saw a lazy contrail arc its way towards the east as an LCS passed high above. It served to remind him of all the things he should be doing but wasn’t.

He mentally urged the tractor to greater speed and as he did, it topped a hill and started down the long slope to Port City.

###

Major Fouts was in a bad spot. Colonel Henderson, in charge of Merikur’s marine component, had taken a sniper’s round between the eyes. That left Fouts in command, faced with an endless list of military problems.

Which were nothing, however, compared to the political problem created by Merikur’s disappearance. He’d been gone five days now and was probably dead. By all rights, she should call off the search and carry on as best she could.

But how to tell the general’s wife? Especially when she wouldn’t listen? Bethany Windsor-Merikur was sitting opposite Fouts skimming the day’s intelligence summaries for signs that her husband was still alive, just as she’d done for days. Since the day of Merikur’s disappearance, in fact.

Over everyone’s objections, the general’s wife had commandeered an LCS to conduct her own air search. Failing in that, she’d moved into HQ and transformed Fout’s life into a living hell. The continuation of the search was moving from pointless to absurd, but who was going to tell the lady to sit down and shut up?

Certainly not a major like Fouts, who had every intention of making colonel someday.

Thunder crashed outside the troop carrier. Rain began to fall, a few heavy drops followed by a roar beating the roof in a quick rhythm.

Fouts cleared her throat.

Bethany looked up, still beautiful, but haggard in the glare of the lumlights, her eyes rimmed with red and her skin an unhealthy gray. She’d been sleeping less than the three or four hours a day.

She met Fouts’ gaze with an intensity that froze the marine’s words in her throat. “I know what you’re going to say, Major, but my husband is alive.”

There was a sudden gabble of voices just outside and the scrape of boots on metal steps. Fouts turned and gaped at the apparition which filled the hatch.

General Merikur.

Dirty, wet, and a few pounds lighter, but the general nonetheless.

He grinned. “Major, I’d listen to what my wife has to say if I were you. She tells me she’s always right.”

Chapter 9

Merikur looked around as people filed in and found seats. The bunker was quite posh as such things go, boasting a board floor, folding chairs, and a conference table made of ammo cases. The table was covered with maps, printouts, used meal paks, and stray pieces of clothing.

A portable com board and tac tank combination took up the far wall, while the others were of raw earth covered with plastic. Cables snaked this way and that and a haze of blue smoke misted the air. All of Merikur’s key people were present including Major Fouts, five or six other senior officers, Senda, Administrator Nugumbe, and Bethany.

Beth had steadfastly refused to return to orbit— and in all truth, he didn’t want her to go. A marine patrol had stopped the ore train about twenty miles outside Port City for a routine contraband inspection. Instead of contraband, they found one tired general.

From there, it was a short ride to the firebase and his personal troop carrier. The sound of Bethany’s voice as she told Fouts he was alive and the look on her face as he stepped through the hatch, were memories he’d always cherish. Minutes later, she’d been coldly furious in reaction to the days of fear he’d put her through . . . but even that meant she cared.

There was a great deal Merikur wanted to talk to her about, but as usual, their personal relationship was taking a backseat to military and political necessity.

Everyone was seated and looking expectantly in his direction. Merikur cleared his throat. “Welcome, everyone. I understand there’s coffee and carbos on the way. When they come, please help yourselves. First let me apologize for causing you so much trouble. I know many of you were involved in the search.” Merikur looked at Bethany as he spoke. She smiled.

There were general sounds of dissent as people said things like, “It was no trouble at all,” and “Good to have you back, Sir.”

Merikur smiled. “Thanks, but let’s cut the bull. I screwed up. I promise I won’t commit that particular screw-up again. As for other possible screw-ups, well, you’ll just have to take your chances.”

There was general laughter, with perhaps a twinge of relief in some voices.

“Now, as most of you know, I’m not the only one who’s spent the last few days in the jungle. Eitor Senda, Governor Windsor’s chief political advisor, and mine as well, has just returned from parts unknown. I think you’ll be interested in what he has to say. Eitor?”

Senda stood and made his way to the front of the room. “Thank you, General. Although it’s true that I spent a few days in the jungle . . . I suspect they were much more pleasant than yours. I would like to join the rest of your staff in welcoming you back.”

There was general applause. When it died down, Senda spoke. His face was quite serious and Merikur could see tension in the set of his shoulders. “I am sorry to say that the news I bring is . . . not good. Taking advantage of an intelligence network created by associates of mine on Cernia, I have made contact with some of the rebel leaders. What they told me was quite disturbing.

“It is important to understand that while Jomu is the overall rebel leader, there are seven Cernian subleaders, plus two human leaders as well. And while Jomu favors Cernian independence and control of Teller, some of his subleaders feel his ambitions are unrealistic. They would prefer membership in the Pact as full and equal partners.”

Senda paused and looked around the room. “Governor Windsor agrees with them, and so do I. In spite of my presence here, I, too, am a loyal Cernian. As such, I know the price of Cernian independence is war, a war Cernia could not survive. And there are other things at stake. We came here to translate the governor’s belief in sentient equality into reality. Then, with Teller as an example, perhaps even greater achievements would be possible.”

The weight of Senda’s shame dragged his eyes to his feet and his voice dropped to a monotone. “Now all of that is threatened. I thought the Haiken Maru and its policies of alien exploitation would be our biggest problem. Being as ethnocentric as any human, I assumed Cernians were operating on a higher moral plane.”

Senda paused. When he continued, there was tremendous sadness in his voice. “And then I learned the Cernian War Faction has joined forces with the Haiken Maru to take over Teller.”

There was an audible gasp as people looked at each other in stunned amazement. Merikur knew how they felt. Senda had explained it to him hours before and he still couldn’t believe it. Why would Cernia join forces with the hated Haiken Maru? And for that matter, why would the Haiken Maru cooperate with Cernia? He listened along with everyone else as the alien looked up and resumed his explanation.

“I see you are surprised. Well, so was I. But surprising though it is, this alliance makes sense when you realize that our two races have as many similarities as differences. For example, both the human and Cernian races are quite pragmatic. Bigotry is part of Haiken Maru corporate culture. But even more important is the concept of profit and when faced with continued financial loss, the company took the most profitable way out, even if that meant dealing with the trolls.”

Heads nodded around the table.
That
was Haiken Maru, all right.

“Meanwhile, the Cernian war faction hated humans, but was under increasing fire from its opposition. Alliance with the Haiken Maru meant an opportunity to build support through an easy victory on Teller. Both sides were motivated to seek some sort of accommodation. And that is exactly what they have done.”

Senda blinked both eyes in a Cernian shrug. “The agreement brings honor to no one. On the human side, the Haiken Maru has agreed to cede control of Teller to Cernia. In addition, the Haiken Maru has agreed to pay off its human and Cernian workers and provide them with transportation off planet. In return, Cernia will allow the Haiken Maru to exploit the planet’s resources in whatever way the conglomerate chooses, and will help them to bring in new workers. The new workers will be drawn from a race called the Mak. They will be exploited in the same way that Cernians were in the past.”

Anger seeped into Senda’s leathery features as he spoke. “In other words, ladies and gentlemen, one subjugated race will be substituted for another. I speak for Governor Windsor when I tell you this is
not
acceptable. We did not come here to foster merely human-Cernian equality, we came here to start a movement towards the equality of
all
races, and I swear to you on the blood of my family’s mother that is what we will do!

“I apologize for the excessive emotional content of my words. Thank you.” With that, Senda returned to his Cernian chair.

Merikur stood and nodded towards Senda. “Thanks Eitor, and no apologies are necessary. I suspect we all feel the same way.”

He cleared his throat. “Based on Eitor’s information, it seems likely that there’s some sort of Cernian fleet headed this way. It’s interesting to note that in spite of that possibility, the rebel attacks have continued unabated. In fact, computer analysis indicates a slight increase in overall activity. This runs counter to what we would expect. Why suffer more casualties when there’s help on the way? The fact that they continue to do so suggests the possibility that top rebel leadership are unaware of the Cernian-Haiken Maru agreement. I remind you that Eitor’s rebel contacts don’t necessarily confide in Jomu. There may be a schism there which we can exploit.