Red Lightning (44 page)

He had it down to about ninety possibles. That is, ships that had gone out in that direction. Among these were three groups Travis thought might have decided on a destructive suicide pact.

One was a Brazilian millennialist cult supported by a billionaire who had left their town deep in the Amazon, whose theology included the idea that the Earth would soon be destroyed by "The Hammer of God," and who thought that would be a good thing. Had they decided to be the Hammer? It didn't seem to jibe with the words "Death to..." which sounded more angry than jubilant, but who knows?

There was a group of Muslim extremists from Indonesia. Muslims were always going to be suspect in a thing like that since 9/11/2001, and they had a long history of suicide attacks.

Then there were the anti-Federal extremists from the American Northwest who had often said things like the only thing wrong with that guy who blew up the Federal Building in Oklahoma City last century was that he hadn't used a nuke, and he hadn't set it off at the U.S. Supreme Court. They had taken off in that direction with the announced intention of forming their own perfect, all-white, all-Christian utopia and returning someday to restore America to its original glory, which I presume would have included black slavery.

Take your pick.

And there was always the "small cabal" theory, of a group taking over a spaceship and turning it into an instrument of mass murder. Maybe even one person could have done it, your classic "lone gunman."

That's the theory I was leaning toward. The only good thing I could see in the whole awful mess was that no one would ever know his name.

The next day we all met again to try to hash out our two big problems:

1.
    
Where to go, and

2.
    
What to do when we got there.

So far, the only sensible answers we'd been able to come up with were:

1.
    
The nearest neutral country, and

2.
    
Surrender.

It wasn't a conclusion we came to lightly. We wanted to protect Jubal. We didn't want him to fall into the hands of the Power Company, any of the unknown contending factions, the Americans, the Chinese, the King of England, the Catholic Church, an eccentric billionaire, or even the International Red Cross. We wanted to fight. Hell, we wanted to get even.

We'd been able to follow the news from Mars, which was not good. Occupiers were still there, though they were no longer patrolling public places, they were staying in their ships on the ground and in orbit. Now that they knew Jubal wasn't there, there wasn't really much point in keeping Mars, but I guess if you've worked real hard to steal something, it's tough just to give it back. Plus, they may have been pissed, too; they'd lost some people, which was one reason they weren't showing their faces in the malls anymore.

It was nothing to how pissed the Martians were. The deaths seemed to have united my countrymen... and words like that were being used now. Countrymen! And countrywomen! Resisters, comrades in arms, patriots! Martians! Down with the Earth invaders! What had been a mutter of discontent had become a roar of revolution.

All the deaths had been what the military calls "collateral damage." Meaning that nobody was actually shooting at us, we had been killed by stray missiles and crashing spaceships. Try telling that to the loved ones of the "collateral casualties." One firebrand had this to say about it: "Tell 'em to cram their collateral up their asses. It was murder, plain and fucking simple!" Roar of applause.

I was sad to be missing it all.

We saw Mom on a podium, one of a group of people gathered at a mass rally, and I thought I spotted Mr. Redmond. If any of us had been taken prisoner again I'm sure somebody would have mentioned it. They knew now where Jubal was... to within about a hundred million miles. They knew that he had fled with me and Evangeline because they had chased us.

Then we all vanished, dropped off the screen. And we had to
stay
vanished, at least until we decided what to do. We longed to call in to our families and tell them we were okay, but we had to maintain radio silence. Radar was unlikely to find us, but there was no better way to give away our location than to send out a message.

So... surrender, or... what?

Travis was beside himself with frustration.

"God... sorry, Jubal. People, we have one of the most powerful, effective weapons ever invented. And I don't know how –"

"I didn't want to make no weapon, me," Jubal said, morosely.

"I know you didn't,
cher
, but ever since humans picked up a tree branch to whack a saber-toothed tiger on the snout, just about anything anybody's ever invented can be used as a weapon. And sometimes you have to fight, Jubal! I know you don't like it. But believe me, if they get their hands on you again, the power that you've unleashed will be in the hands of people who will set up a dictatorship more powerful than anything the world has ever seen."

"So what would
we
do if
we
kept Jubal and his secrets?" Evangeline asked.

"Set up the most powerful dictatorship the world has ever seen," Travis said. "But run by people who don't want to hurt anybody."

"You?" she asked.

He gave her a sour look.

"Evangeline, if I wanted the job I could have had it before you were ever born. We worked long and hard to come up with an institution where no one nation or company could control all that power. It worked for twenty years."

"Stopped workin' when I busted out," Jubal said.

"Would have one day, anyway," Travis assured him. Jubal didn't look convinced. I wasn't, either, frankly, but I was withholding judgment on that. What Jubal had attempted, in his fumbling way, was to take the power away from
everybody
. That would have thrown the economy of Earth into a tailspin, no question, but it wouldn't have been as bad as the tsunami, and his
intent
was to prevent more of those. Jubal can only think of one thing at a time, and when it's not physics, he doesn't always hit the ball out of the park.

Should he have left? Probably not. But he did, and we had to deal with it. There had to be a way to do it that didn't involve handing him to these powerful interests who were willing to invade and kill to get him. But how?

"If not you... who?" Evangeline pressed on.

"I don't know. But this is our only opportunity."

"Pretty slim one," I said.

"Yeah, but it's all we have. Let's go through it again."

Evangeline groaned, and Jubal just sat there, staring at his hands.

Here was the problem:

We had the most powerful spaceship that had ever been built, because it was the only one ever built with a primary Squeezer machine in it. Jubal had installed it on the sly when Travis landed it in the Falklands shortly after it was commissioned. The thing people kept forgetting was that a Squeezer wasn't a big device. The first one fit in your fist. The one Jubal installed on the
Second Amendment
was even smaller.

Travis said it was like a World War II battleship going up against the Spanish Armada, but that didn't work for me. If we engaged the enemy, if we went into battle around the Earth or around Mars or anywhere else, we could slaughter them if they came at us one at a time, like the endless chumps in a Kung Fu movie who patiently wait their turn to take on the hero. But they wouldn't come that way. They'd come in masses, and even though we could program the computer to take them out at a pretty good rate, they could stand off millions of miles and fire a virtually unlimited number of missiles at us. We'd be bound to miss one of them. And when they saw how the fight was going, they could fire nuclear missiles. Oh, yes, there were still plenty of those around. With a nuke, you didn't even have to come very close. Anything within a few miles, the shock wave would kill us.

So hiding was out. Combat was out. What was left?

We didn't think of a thing. We decided to sleep on it again.

I sneaked into Evangeline's room again that night and we got naked, as usual, and into bed, as usual, and petted, as usual. But eventually we both admitted we didn't really want to make love, for once. There was just too much to think about. Instead we cuddled, and I learned that, sometimes, that can be more comforting and intimate than actual lovemaking. We couldn't seem to get close enough, we wanted to get inside each other's skin. I think it was that night, not all the previous nights of hot and heavy sex, that made me sure at last that I was in love with her. Lying there on my back with her face nestled against my neck, her breasts squeezed against my body, one smooth and soft-skinned and muscular leg thrown across me, feeling her sweet little toes stroking my calf... it was the only place in the universe I wanted to be.

I think we may have stayed that way for as much as an hour, shifting position once in a while, not saying a word, exploring each other with our hands. And suddenly we did want to make love, and it was long and slow and gentle. When we were done Evangeline got up and lit a candle and set it on the head of the bed, and I watched her in the golden glow as she rummaged in the pocket of her space suit on the floor and came up with a pipe and a bag of Phobos Red. She sat beside me, legs folded in lotus position, and lit up, then passed it to me. She held it in a long time while I smoked, then released a slow breath.

"It always helps me think," she said. "We're gonna need to think real good if we're gonna figure out how to save civilization as we know it."

We looked at each other for a moment, then burst out in a fit of giggles.

"Right," she said, when it subsided. "Like
that's
gonna happen."

"So we have three choices," I said. "We make a stand of some sort, we run away and hide, or we surrender."

"Fight, flee, or fuggedaboutit," she summed up.

"Is that really all we can do?"

"Well... one of my teachers was always saying 'Think outside the box, class. Think outside the box. The best solutions are the ones that sound crazy when you first think of them.' I always thought she was full of shit. But we've pretty much decided that fighting is just suicide, hiding is impossible..."

"And surrender is unacceptable."

"I'm with you there."

"So what
other
alternatives are there? Come on, let's think outside the box."

We did, for five minutes or so, punctuated by regular fits of giggles. It was very good stuff.

"Okay, okay, get serious here," she said, patting the air with her hands. "This is the most serious decision we're ever likely to make. There has to be something else."

More silence.

"Well... we could demand that they surrender."

She giggled, then stopped herself and took another toke.

"Okay. I said outside the box. That's sure outside. How do we do that?"

"Ah... we make a broadcast from Earth orbit. 'Lay down your arms, ground your ships, or... or you'll be really, really,
really
sorry!' "

She collapsed on her back and kicked her legs in the air, howling with laughter.

"God, I love you, Ray. Okay, okay, okay... how about... we write a really nasty letter to all the zines on Earth. Tell the Earthies they should be ashamed of themselves for invading Mars, and they should be even more ashamed for making it so tough on poor old Jubal, who didn't never want to hurt nobody, him."

"Appeal to their better nature."

"Exactly."

"Let's leave that one on the table a while." I was still thinking about
I love you
.

"How about political asylum?"

"Didn't we agree that one was pretty much the same as surrendering? Who is there on Earth who could protect us?"

We went through the possibilities once more. The husk of the United Nations? Nah. The International World Bank? The gnomes of Zurich? Trouble was, neither of us knew enough of the political situation to know what was realistic. Travis, who did, thought Switzerland was our best bet, and it was still pretty much surrendering.

"How about some legal process?" I suggested.

"You mean some international court?"

"Yeah. There's a ton of 'em. Some of them are set up to handle international disputes."

"You mean between Earth and Mars?" She looked dubious. "Except, technically, Mars isn't an independent state. But I guess they negotiate with rebel groups, too."

"We have to declare our independence."

"That's up to the folks back on Mars," I said. "Sounds like they're close to it. But we can't do anything about it out here."

"No, I mean us. The... the Independent Republic of the
Second Amendment
, population: four."

We thought about it.

"I get to design the flag!" she said. Once more, the giggles.

"Tell me about it."

"Okay. Ah... a field of red, with a big,
big
silver ball in the middle."

"The Bubble Republic," I said. "That's sure a symbol of power for the modern age. Nobody'd dare stand up to it."

"So we win!"

And I'm sorry to say that's about as far we got that night. So much for thinking outside the box, huh?

After a few more hits we finally managed to get to sleep. That night remains in my memory as one of the best nights I ever had. We were far from home, and our home was in danger. Maybe all of human civilization was in danger. We didn't know where we were going or what we were going to do when we got there. All in all, there wasn't much to be happy about. But I had my love nestled in my arms, naked and soft and warm, and I was positively goofy with happiness.

I recall having the glimmering of an idea as I drifted. I made a mental note not to forget it while I slept. It was important, I knew, it was a possible way out. I
had
to remember it.