The End of All Things (26 page)

“Through standard channels the Colonial Union has made the government of Franklin aware that we are opposed to this vote. We feel it is dangerous not only to the people and government of Franklin, but also to the Colonial Union at large. We also maintain that such a vote is illegal and that Franklin may not, through legal means, separate itself from the Colonial Union. These points have proved to be unpersuasive to many of you, hence this vote that Speaker Haryanto was about to commence.

“You may believe that I have come here to stop this vote on behalf of the Colonial Union. I have not. The representatives of Franklin, or at least the minority required to bring this vote to the floor, have asked for this vote. The Colonial Union will allow it to proceed. What I am here to do is make you aware of the consequences of this action.”

I paused for effect, just long enough to make them wonder about the consequences, and then began again. “During the lead up to this historic vote, some of you in this chamber—in a manner you believe fitting, given that the name of this colony is taken from the United States of America revolutionary figure Benjamin Franklin—have quoted the United States’ Declaration of Independence, and specifically how you, like those revolutionaries who signed that document, would pledge your lives, your fortunes, and your sacred honors to your own independence.

“Very well.”

I pointed to the drone hovering above my head. “As I have been speaking to you, this drone has identified and targeted every representative in this room, and has fed the information to a Colonial Union ship, which by now has trained high-energy particle weapons on each of you. As the Colonial Union has already declared that this vote is illegal, if and when you vote for independence, you will be offering up an act of treason to the Colonial Union. In doing so, you will lose your sacred honor.

“As you will be committing treason, the Colonial Union will freeze all your financial accounts, to restrict your ability, or the ability of others, to commit further treason with them. So you will lose your fortunes. And once you vote, confirming your treason, you will be summarily sentenced to death by the Colonial Union, with the sentence to be carried out immediately; as I said you are already tracked and targeted. So you will lose your life.

“Now, then,” I said, turning back to Speaker Haryanto. “You may proceed with your vote.”

“After you have threatened all of us with death?” Haryanto said, incredulously.

“Yes,” I said. “Or more precisely, after the Colonial Union agreed with the principles you have already set out—that this action was worth your life, fortune, and honor. What you may not have expected is that it would cost all these things as quickly as it will. But these are not the days of the American Revolution, and the Colonial Union is not the British Empire, an ocean and several months away. We are here now. It’s time to find out who among you is willing to make the sacrifice for independence that you have declared you will make. Time to find out who means what they say, and who was simply posturing because you thought your posturing was consequence free—or at least, consequence free for
you
.”

“But you won’t give us our independence even if we vote for it!” someone yelled from the floor.

“Is this a
surprise
to you?” I asked. “Did you not think there would be a struggle to follow? Did you not believe the words you said? Or did you believe the repercussions of your actions would be shouldered by others—by the citizens who will be pressed into service to defend the so-called independence you wish to give them? The fellow citizens of Franklin who will die by the millions as other species claim this planet for their own when the Colonial Union is not here to defend it? Where did you think
you
would be when that happened? Why did you think
you
would not be asked to answer for your vote?

“No, my dear representatives of Franklin. You are being given an opportunity. You will be called to answer for your actions
before
any other citizen of Franklin. You will not evade this responsibility, as much as you may wish it. Your vote is being broadcast across this globe. You cannot hide now. You
will
not hide now. You will vote your conscience. And your fellow citizens will find out now whether you believe their so-called independence is worth
your
life.”

“So, let’s begin,” I said, and nodded to Haryanto. “You first, speaker.”

*   *   *

“We’re off the clock now, yeah?” Lambert asked.

“Since we’re on the shuttle back up to the
Tubingen,
I would say yes,” Salcido said.

“Then let me question the usefulness of that last stunt of ours.”

“I don’t know,” Powell said. “The declaration of independence was unanimously defeated, the entire planet of Franklin got to see its legislators revealed as cowards looking after their own skin, and
we
didn’t die. I thought it was pretty successful.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t successful,” Lambert said. “I said I question its usefulness.”

“I don’t see the difference,” Salcido said.

“The success of the mission depends on whether we achieve our mission goals. We did that—like Ilse said we killed the vote, embarrassed the politicians, didn’t get killed, and reminded the entire planet that the Colonial Union can come along and stomp them anytime it wants, so don’t screw with us. Which wasn’t explicitly in our mission parameters but was the subtext of the mission.”

“Wow, ‘subtext,’” Powell said. “For a former janitor you’re using big words there, Terrell.”

“This former janitor has a rhetoric degree, asshole,” Lambert said, and Powell smiled at this. “He just learned he could make more money as a janitor than as an adjunct professor. So yes. Successful. Great. But did it address the root causes? Did it address the underlying issues that required us to have to take the mission in the first place?”

“One, probably not, and two, do we care?” Powell asked.

“We should care,” Lambert said. “We should care because if we didn’t, then one day we’ll be back here dealing with this problem again.”

“I don’t know about that,” Salcido said. “We stomped on that vote pretty hard.”

“And we did it with a single fireteam,” Powell said, and then pointed at me. “Plus the fact that the Colonial Union sent a mere lieutenant to deal with a vote of global consequence probably said something. No offense, Lieutenant.”

“None taken,” I said.

“The whole point of the mission was to shake their confidence and make them consider their action,” Powell continued. “The Colonial Union was saying ‘Look what we can do with four common soldiers, so think about what we could do with more—and think about what we’re protecting you from.’”

“But it doesn’t address root causes,” Lambert said, again. “Look, the global legislature of an entire planet doesn’t wake up one morning and decide to vote for independence just for the fun of it. There was a lot going on before that point. Things we don’t know about because while it was all brewing, we were off doing other things.”

“Right,” Powell said. “And when the aftermath of this comes down, we’ll also be off again, doing other things, so why are you worked up about it?”

“I’m not worked up about it,” Lambert said. “I’m just asking if our so-called ‘successful’ mission actually helped.”

“It helped the Franklins,” Salcido said. “The ones who didn’t want independence, anyway.”

“Also the ones who didn’t want to get shot for treason,” Powell interjected.

“Them too,” Salcido agreed.

“Right, but I’m not convinced it helped the Colonial Union,” Lambert said. “The reasons the Franklins wanted independence, whatever they are, are still there. They haven’t been addressed.”

“Not our job,” Powell said.

“No, it’s not. I just wish whosever job it was had done it before we got there.”

“If they had then we wouldn’t have been there,” Powell said. “We would have been somewhere else and you would be trying to find deeper meaning about
that
.”

“So you’re saying the real problem is me,” Lambert said.

“I’m not saying the real problem
isn’t
you,” Powell said. “Me, I’m just glad to get through the thing alive. Call me uncomplicated.”

“Uncomplicated.”

“Thank you. And you, Terrence, should stop overthinking the mission. Do it, get it done, go home. You’ll be happier.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lambert said.

“Fine, then I’ll be happier, because I won’t have to listen to you go on.”

“You’ll miss it when I’m gone.”

“Maybe,” Powell said. “I’m willing to find out.”

“Found it!” Salcido said.

“Found what?” Lambert asked.

“That song. The song you said didn’t exist.”

“The pizza moon song?” Powell asked.

“Bullshit,” Lambert said.

“Not bullshit!” Salcido exclaimed, triumphantly. “I’m putting it through the shuttle speakers now.”

The cabin of the shuttle was filled a song about moons, pizza, drool, and pasta.

“This is a
terrible
song,” Powell said, after a minute.

“It makes me hungry,” Lambert said.

Salcido smiled. “The good news is, we’ll be back in time for lunch.”

PART TWO

Wednesday—not one immediately following the events of Franklin—and we were hunting a sniper.

“Just drop the building on him,” Powell suggested, from behind our cover. She pointed to the apartment complex the rebel sniper had been using to take aim at the Kyoto security forces and the CDF that had been deployed to assist them. We were in Fushimi, the planet’s third-largest city and the center of recent unrest.

“We can’t,” I said.

“Sure we can,” Powell said. She pointed upward. “The
Tubingen
could level that entire building in six seconds. Pancake it into rubble. Sniper’s dead, we’re back on the ship in time for tacos.”

“And then have the Kyotans pissed off at us because several hundred of their people are homeless, surrounding buildings are damaged or possibly destroyed, infrastructure compromised, plus a big pile of shattered apartment complex dead in the middle of the street,” Lambert pointed out.

“You’re doing that thing where you think you’re thinking about long-term implications again, aren’t you, Lambert.”

“I’m pointing out flattening the building might be unsubtle and not the best course of action.”

“I prefer to think of it as a Gordian knot type of solution,” Powell said.

“The Gordian knot wasn’t twelve stories high,” Lambert countered. “With lots of people living in it.”

There was a sharp crack and the whirr of masonry shearing off a building forty meters up the road. The Kyoto security officers who had been peeking their heads around it very quickly unpeeked.

“He should have hit them from that distance,” Salcido said, unimpressed.

I motioned to the several dead Kyoto officers in the road in front of us. “He’s accurate enough,” I said. “Or she.”

“He or she’d be a lot less accurate with several stories of apartment building falling on their heads,” Powell said.

“We’re not destroying the building,” I said. “Get it out of your head.”

“Well, what do you want to do then, boss?” Salcido said.

I craned up to look at the building again. It was your basic concrete block sort of apartment complex. The complex had several corner and near-corner apartments that the sniper could use as vantage points for the road we were on. The apartments were difficult to see into visually and heat scanning wasn’t turning up anything; this sniper was using camo that made them difficult to spot across the whole electromagnetic spectrum. Or was wearing a nice insulating jacket.

“We could land a squad on the roof,” Powell said. “Flush out the asshole.”

“If I were the sniper I’d have wired the roof,” I said.

“How much destructive power do you think this sniper has?”

“I’m willing to err on the side of caution, here.”

“So he can blow up the building but we can’t,” Powell said. “Well, that’s just perfect.”

“The point is to have no one blow up the building,” I said. “Suggest some other options, please.”

“Track for movement,” Salcido said. “Plug him the next time he takes a shot.”

“This differs from what we’ve been doing how?” Lambert said. “You can argue about whether this guy is a good shot, but he’s at least pretty good at not being
seen
until he takes a shot. And unless our return shot is immediate, we’re not going to hit him.”

“But we
can
track the shot,” I said. “I mean if the sniper takes a shot, our BrainPals can track its trajectory.”

“As long as we’re looking in the right place, sure, I guess,” Salcido said.

“We’d still have to return fire almost instantly,” Lambert said.

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe not.”

Lambert and Salcido looked at each other. “You’re being cryptic, Lieutenant.”

I looked at Salcido. “You’re the resident Empee expert,” I said.

“This is true,” he said, and he was. He could tell you trivia about the CDF’s standard rifle that you didn’t know you didn’t care about until he told it to you. “And?”

“The Empee builds its load on the fly out of nanobotic material.”

“Right,” Salcido said. “Keeps us from having to carry around six different types of weapons or ammo.”

“Okay,” I said. “I want to use the rocket launcher function, and I want to specify the payload of the rocket. Can I do that?”

“As long as the payload of the rocket is something that can be assembled almost instantly from the ammunition block, sure.”

“Then I want you to make a payload of trackers,” I said. “Tiny little trackers. The size of dust mites.”

Salcido looked at me quizzically for a couple of seconds until the light went on. “Oh, okay. Got it.”

“Can you do that?”

“Theoretically yes,” Salcido said. “Practically, it would take me more time than we have to make an original design. I’m looking to see if there’s anything on file that would work for our purposes.”