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Authors: Mack Reynolds

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BOOK: The Fracas Factor
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“How about Sam?”

“He’s better off with the Doc than he would be with us. Come on, Freddy. We’ve done all we could.”

Aftermath

The general presiding at the court martial said, “Joseph Mauser, former Category Military, former Rank Major, Lower-Upper. You have heard the charges. If found guilty by law you must be sentenced to lifelong imprisonment. Are the charges correct?”

Joe Mauser said respectfully, “Sir, I plead the Fifth Amendment.”

The five members of the court martial, including the general, looked at him blankly.

“The what?” the general said.

“Sir, when the Revised Constitution was compiled, the Bill of Rights was allowed to remain, although they are seldom, if ever, invoked these days. More sweeping changes largely cover the territory they once did. However, the Fifth Amendment is still in the Revised Constitution, and I refuse to testify on the grounds that it might incriminate me.”

The general looked at the colonel who was handling the prosecution. The colonel had belonged to the Category Law before he switched to Category Military.

He cleared his throat and said, “He is correct, Sir.” He looked at Joe Mauser. “But how would you know? Where did you ever read law? You were a mercenary soldier.”

Joe said with a shrug, “In hospital beds, when there was nothing else to read, and after I’d copped one. In my day, I’ve copped many a one.”

The general presiding shook his head, looked down at the papers before him, and said, “Brigadier Hillary Cogswell…”

Joe Mauser, who had reseated himself, looked up, a touch of a wry smile on his mouth. He had never heard Cogswell’s first name before. For fifteen years, during which time he had fought with the former marshal on one side or the other, it had been Stonewall Cogswell, because of his victories and his dedication to the study of the campaigns of the Civil War hero of the South.

The presiding general was going on, “… Category Military, Rank Brigadier General, Low-Upper.” The general looked down at Stonewall Cogswell, who was now standing on crutches, one of his arms still in a sling. “As an Upper caste member, General, it is, of course, not necessary for you to testify under oath.”

Noblesse oblige, Joe thought cynically. An Upper didn’t lie. A Middle, and especially a Lower, testified under oath and were subject to being brought up for perjury. But not an Upper.

The presiding general said respectfully, “Would you give your testimony of the events on the hill during your fracas with General Langenscheidt?”

Stonewall Cogswell looked over at the defense table and at Joe Mauser. Then Cogswell’s eyes came back to the general presiding. He said, “I was unconscious, as a result of my wounds. I might add, in the way of a character reference that former Major Joseph Mauser has been an acquaintance for at least a decade and a half. I have been in the dill with him more than once. I have always found him the epitome of a capable officer and a most gallant one.”

The prosecutor groaned. This was being televised. The former Marshal Cogswell was possibly the most celebrated of all fracas commanding officers. In his time, he had won more battles than Napoleon. Besides that, the country was up in arms against what had transpired on the hill in Langenscheidt’s attempt to finish him. And the general’s wounds were obvious. He had lost his leg.

The general presiding said courteously, “Thank you General Cogswell.”

He looked down at the papers before him. “Fredric Soligen, Category Communications, Subdivision Telly, Branch Fracas News, Low-Middle. Citizen Soligen, will you give your testimony?”

The feisty cameraman came to his feet belligerently, took the oath, and said, “I don’t know what in Zen this is all about. Joe got kicked out of the Category Military and dint know what to do with his time. He was like an old warhorse with nothing to do. So I kind of took mercy on him. I gave him a job as an assistant…”

“Just a moment,” the prosecutor said sharply, “Are you saying that the former Major Mauser has switched categories to Category Communications?”

“Well, no. Not yet. What we wanted to do was get him a good send off, something impressive so he’d get a good rank in Telly, Branch Fracas News. With his experience, he was a natural. Nobody’s had more experience in the fracases than Joe Mauser.” Freddy apologetically looked over at Stonewall Cogswell. “Except the Marshal, of course.”

The presiding general said, “All right, all right. Go on, Citizen Soligen.”

“Well, anyway, Joe had fought on that reservation before. He knew the terrain. He’d even been on that knoll where the Marshal was pinned down. He figured if we could get up there—the telly pillbox had been knocked out—we’d have a telly-beat. It wasn’t being covered from the Marshal’s side.”

“The general’s side,” the prosecutor said impatiently.

Freddy Soligen looked at him. “Ye, sir,” he said. “But I’ll always think of him as Field Marshal Stonewall Cogswell, and so will most fracas buffs.” Freddy knew damn well he was on lens and that every fracas fan in the United States of the Americas was taking this in.

Every knowledgeable buff in the country was lined up on the side of the Marshal and the perennially unlucky Joe Mauser. Freddy was losing no points.

“Go on,” the presiding general said.

Freddy said, “It was all Joe’s idea to get the coverage for the fracas-buffs.” Freddy looked noble. “That’s the job of Telly, Branch Fracas News. Getting the coverage for the fans. It’s a pretty inspiring way of making a living.”

“Good Jumping Zen,” the prosecutor blurted out.

“That will be all, Colonel,” the presiding general said sharply: “Go on, Citizen Soligen.”

“Well, Joe knew about this little path up an arroyo, and he figured we could get up there and….”

“Was he armed?” the prosecutor interrupted.

Freddy looked at him blankly. “Armed? He was all loaded down with my equipment. You think a telly reporter just carries a camera with him? He’s gotta have all sorts of special lenses and a tripod and all that sort of thing. It’s not as easy a job as you think, Colonel.”

“All right, continue. What happened when you got to that Vickers gun emplacement with four of General Langenscheidt’s men manning it?”

Freddy stared at him. “What’d you think happened? Lieutenant Colonel Warren, who was usually a member of the Marshal’s staff, and Rank Private Max Mainz, a lad who had fought under the Marshal before, took them from behind. Their gun was pointed the opposite way. They weren’t expecting anybody to come up from the rear.”

The prosecutor asked sharply, “And the former Major Mauser didn’t participate?”

Freddy was still looking at him with disbelief. “How could he? He was carrying all this here equipment of mine.”

The presiding general looked at Stonewall Cogswell.

The former marshal said, “Lieutenant Colonel Paul Warren has been on my staff in many a fracas. He was a gallant officer. Knowing that my situation had pickled and that I was in the dill, he would have given his life, and did, to come to my aid.”

The prosecutor groaned inwardly again and said aloud to Freddy Soligen, “All right, all right, go on.”

“What else is there? We went on up and got to the knoll, and me and Joe Mauser got some good coverage. And then we all got out of there before old Bitter Dave could come up with his heavy mortars.”

“And did former Major Mauser give military advice to Marshal Cogswell or his surviving officers?”

Freddy said plaintively, “He didn’t have to. They could all see the way we’d come up. And the Marshal, like he said, had already passed out.”

The prosecuting colonel rolled his eyes upward. He knew perfectly well that the little man was lying. So did everybody else. He said, “Next witness.”

The next three witnesses were Captains Bowles and Fordham and Lieutenant Vance. They lied like gentlemen.

At the end, the prosecutor brought Joe to his feet again. He said, “Joseph Mauser, all testimony has indicated your innocence of the charges. Why, then, should it be necessary for you to plead the Fifth?”

Joe said evenly, “I plead the Fifth Amendement to that question and refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me.”

The prosecutor sighed and turned to the general presiding. “The case rests,” he said in resignation.

The general looked at the other four members of the court. He said, “Gentlemen, is there any necessity for us to leave the bench to deliberate?”

The colonel to his left growled, “I believe he’s guilty as charged, damn it. However, there is no evidence. I vote, not guilty.”

The other three said:

“Not guilty.”

“Not guilty.”

“Not guilty.”

Two of them, in their time, had participated with Joe in the fracases. The others knew him by reputation. Joe’s reputation in the Category Military couldn’t be higher.

“The case against Joseph Mauser is dismissed.”

After the others had filed out and Joe had thanked Cogswell, Soligen and the others, a court attendant approached him and said, “Major Mauser, a representative of the North American Bureau of Investigation wishes to speak with you. He is in the adjoining office.”

Joe thanked him and made his way to the indicated room. As he opened the door he noted that the room was soundproofed. Frank Hodgson, Nadine Haer, and Philip Holland were there.

Joe said, “Case dismissed.”

The three of them sighed with relief.

Hodgson said, “And Soligen?”

“Wild horses couldn’t drag information about the organization out of him. However, behind the scenes it wouldn’t hurt to have he and his son bounced up to High-Middle.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Holland said.

Frank Hodgson took a deep breath and looked from one of them to the other. He said, “We have found it impossible to convert any reasonable number of either Middles or Lowers. We’re stymied in our efforts to overthrow People’s Capitalism. The organization is just going to have to continue as best it can until we can come up with some gimmick to get the country moving.

Are all of you still in?”

Phil Holland chuckled sardonically and didn’t bother to answer.

“Nadine said, “Yes.”

And Joe Mauser said, “I’m still in.”

THE END

Also by Mack Reynolds

Ability Quotient

After Some Tomorrow

After Utopia

Amazon Planet

Black Man’s Burden

Border, Breed nor Birth

Brain World

Code Duello

Commune 2000AD

Computer War

Computer World

Dawnman Planet

Day After Tomorrow

Depression or Bust

Equality in the Year 2000

Galactic Medal of Honour

Lagrange Five

Looking Backward from the Year 2000

Mercenary from Tomorrow

Of Godlike Power (aka Earth Unaware)

Perchance to Dream

Planetary Agent X

Police Patrol: 2000AD

Rolltown

Satellite City

Section G: United Planets

Space Pioneer

Space Search

Space Visitor

The Best Ye Breed

The Computer Conspiracy

The Cosmic Eye

The Earth War

The Five-way Secret Agent

The Fracas Factor

The Rival Rigelians

The Space Barbarians

The Towers of Utopia

Time Gladiator

Tomorrow Might be Different

Trample an Empire Down

Mack Reynolds (1917-1983)

Dallas McCord (‘Mack’) Reynolds was born in California in 1917. His father was the Socialist Labor Party Presidential Candidate on two occasions, and Reynolds’ life and work were deeply affected by his political upbringing. After early careers in newspapers and computing, Reynolds returned from the Second World War and began to write science fiction. Based in Mexico but travelling widely in his role as Travel Editor for a men’s magazine, he started slowly but surely to sell his work. Mack Reynolds wrote the first Star Trek novel, Mission to Horatius, and was once voted Most popular SF Author by the readers of Galaxy Science Fiction magazine. He died in 1983.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

BOOK: The Fracas Factor
8.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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