Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason (35 page)

“I understand,” I agreed. Personally, I would take some delight in finally seeing General Hoover and the rest of his staff brought to book for war crimes against civilians. They’d probably use the following orders defence, but that meant little to me. They shouldn’t have followed the orders in the first place.

“Did they have any choice?” Erwin asked, when I said that out loud. “What would have happened to them if they had refused to follow orders?”

I scowled. “Point taken,” I said. The Generals would probably have been reduced in rank. The common Infantrymen would be court-martialled and shot. They hadn’t had much choice…but I still wanted to hurt them for what they’d done. “Will you help us?”

“I’ve been in the service for thirty years,” Erwin said. His voice darkened. “I’ve seen hundreds of my friends lost, their lives squandered, because some moron back on Earth screwed up and sent them to die. I know other Marines who feel the same way too, but really…what could we do about it? The Brotherhood couldn’t help us.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do you trust the Brotherhood?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. I trusted the Senior Chief, and yet…there was no way to know who was really on the far end of the computer network. The Brotherhood seemed to be composed of shadows and little else, although I was unsurprised to realise that Erwin was a member. His friend had probably invited him to join as well. “I think that I’d prefer to keep them out of it if possible.”

“A wise choice,” Erwin agreed, slowly. He looked down at his hands for a long moment. “I believe that most of the Marines would join without hesitation, if given an opportunity. Do you want me to speak with them?”

“Not now,” I said. “I want you to talk to them after we leave Botany. I don’t know where Andrew’s sympathies lie and I don’t want to risk opening communications with him yet.”

“I think he would have made an excellent Marine,” Erwin said. He grinned, suddenly. “If you tell him I told you that, I’ll have to kick your face in. You could probably convince him to join afterwards, but at the moment…well, he’s just got to worry about his men and Botany. It’s going to be a hardship posting.”

I made a mental note to review the files as soon as I could. “I understand,” I said. “Thank you.”

“One final point,” Erwin said. “What about the Captain?”

I hesitated. I hadn’t been allowing myself to think about that, but he was right. The Captain would be the ideal leader for our conspiracy, except his family tied him to the UN and the status quo. I would have followed him anyway, but how could I ask him to lead us against his family? His family had gotten him the command and ensured he kept it, despite his unconventional outlook and methods. He wouldn’t want to wage war on them, or even, as I intended to, prevent them from waging war against anyone else.

“Nothing,” I said, shivering inside. How could we remove the Captain from power? I knew that there was no choice, but to relieve him, somehow, yet…I couldn’t move against him. I’d have to cross that bridge sooner or later, and yet I hoped it would be later. Perhaps something else would intervene. “We can’t risk telling him anything.”

Erwin nodded and left.

I spoke to the Senior Chief that evening and compared notes. I hadn’t realised just how much the non-commissioned ranks saw of the ships, or how they worked. The Senior Chief knew hundreds of people who might be willing to help us, if approached properly. The Brotherhood might even be used to vouch for some of the recruits, without trusting them completely. He agreed with me that it would be a bad idea to approach the Captain, although he insisted that the Captain was not to be harmed.

“It may not come down to a mutiny now,” he said, “but if it does, you can remove the Captain without hurting him. Don’t even think about killing him.”

“I understand,” I said. I didn’t want to lose the Senior Chief and I understood. Captain Harriman wasn’t someone who could be killed without hesitation. “I won’t hurt him if it can be avoided.”

He scowled at me, but accepted the point. “Very well,” he agreed. “One final point, then. I think that you should speak to Sally. She needs something to keep herself going.”

“But…” I began, and then shook my head. I’d already decided that we wouldn’t approach any of the Ensigns, but I’d known Sally back when I’d been an Ensign myself and knew she could be trusted. More to the point, she was growing more and more withdrawn by the day and might even be considering jumping ship. I needed her and not just to supervise the Ensigns. It was at times like this when I missed Kitty. She would have known just what to say. “I understand, Chief.”

Sally almost laughed at it when I finally approached her. “You’re telling me that you intend to overthrow the government?” She asked, when I told her – in general – of what I was planning. I didn’t mention either the Marines or the Senior Chief. Her laugh would probably have earned her a demerit under other circumstances. It was high-pitched and hating. “John, it’s nice of you to care, but…”

I looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in a while. She was sullen and withdrawn in many ways, her eyes dark and filled with shadows. She was teaching newcomers what they needed to suppress her career and go onwards, while she remained behind, a permanent Ensign and then a lowly officer on a fuelling station or a transport. I saw the rage boiling behind her eyes and the frustration that might turn to violence. Sally had nothing to live for – now.

“I do care,” I said, and took her arm. She stared at me. Touching a lower-ranked officer like that was illegal and could land me in deep shit – I had no powerful friends like Frank Wong had had. “Sally, we can change the world, if we plan it carefully and strike when the time is right…and I’m going to need you to do it. Will you help?”

“I want them dead,” she said, angrily. She looked up at me, her gaze tinged with suspicion. “There, I said it. Are you satisfied?”

I smiled, suddenly realising what she thought. “I wouldn’t be talking to you to the strains of Captain Ward and his Quest for Grim Reaper if I wanted to record this conversation,” I pointed out. “Sally, it’s no joke.”

“Prove it,” Sally hissed. “What kind of indiscretion are you trying to lure me into? Who’s jerking your cock anyway? Why would you, of all people, work for Intelligence, or Security?”

“I’m not working for either of them,” I said, patiently. I hadn’t expected outright disbelief. “Sally, just how badly have I just compromised myself?”

“Son of a fucking bitch,” Sally said. “You are serious!”

“Yes,” I said, flatly. “I can’t promise you revenge for everything you’ve suffered, but I can promise you that it won’t happen to anyone else, if we strike when the time is right! Do you think that you would remain an Ensign in a properly-run fleet? How would you like a chance to realise your ambitions and rise to your proper heights?”

I held her tightly. “You didn’t deserve any of what happened to you,” I said. “Do you remember the hopes and dreams we had at the Academy? We can make them real?”

“I wish,” Sally said. Her voice became doubtful, pleading, and my heart went out to her. “I’ll help, John, but how far can we get?”

I winked at her. “As far as we need to go,” I said, and kissed her. I was breaking regulations, but I didn’t care. Besides, it would help convince her that I was telling the truth. “We can go as far as we want.”

After a moment, she kissed me back.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

One of the fundamental problems facing the UN was the degree to which its decisions were influenced by irrelevant political factors. Some of them were ludicrous – including laws prohibiting the ‘pollution’ of outer space and the attempt to prevent the terraforming of Mars, which were passed to please the environmentalist factions in the UN – and some were downright ridiculous. Having decided that condemned prisoners could not be executed, and having decided not to face the political unrest caused by releasing said dangerous prisoners, the UN decided to exile them all to Botany, a world that – after the intervention of the environmentalist lobby – was barely habitable. The UN lost its scruples soon afterwards, but by then exiling convicts was policy, not to be altered by mere mortals.

-Thomas Anderson. An Unbiased Look at the UNPF. Baen Historical Press, 2500.

Botany, I discovered one night in my cabin, was perhaps the only world where the files I obtained from Heinlein and the information available to me from the UNPF computer files largely agreed. Heinlein itself was a democracy with an earned franchise, or a military-run state, depending on whom you believed, but Botany…well, the files agreed on all of the major points and most of the minor issues. The only real difference lay in the politics, and that was no surprise.

“Emergence complete,” the Pilot said, as the wormhole closed behind us.

“Local space appears to be clear, sir,” I said, from the tactical console. I’d hoped that the Ensigns would be allowed to handle the emergence from the wormhole into normal space, but the Captain had discontinued that practice as raider attacks increased, even though statistically it was unlikely we would be attacked right out of the wormhole. It was regrettable. We could have used it as a prize for the most innovative Ensign. I’d had them solving puzzles all week. “No sign of any intruders.”

“Good,” the Captain said, from his command chair. “Pilot, take us towards the planet.”

“Aye, sir,” the Pilot said. The hum of the ship’s drive increased as the Pilot powered it up and took us towards the planet. “We will reach standard orbit in thirty minutes, sir.”

I smiled as the image of local space started to fill up. Botany simply wasn't a very interesting system. It had three rocky planets, one gas giant and a handful of comets. The gas giant might be suitable for mining, later, but so far no one had bothered to invest in a cloud-scoop. In theory, one day Botany itself would develop a space industry that would need fuel from the gas giant, but I wasn't holding my breath. The files from both Earth and Heinlein agreed that any civilisation forming on Botany would be a long time coming. The only other sign of space-based activity was the station orbiting the planet and a handful of satellites in high orbit. It seemed rather insecure, but then, Botany had had little to loot – until now.

The files had agreed that Botany had originally been rated as a seventy-percent planet, a planet that had been suitable for quick and easy terraforming into an Earth-like world. I’d been surprised that they had even considered it, but back then no one had known for sure how many planets there were out there to be colonised, or how many of them were like Earth. The settlement rights had been bought by an Australian-based investment group – it had taken me several days to work out what an Australian had been; Australia was now part of the Pan-Asian Zone – and they’d started terraforming the planet. They’d been well on the way to establishing a habitable world when disaster had stuck.

At this point, the files diverged. The UNPF files referred only to mild sabotage by socially misguided rebels with a cause, a description that could have fitted the Heinlein Resistance, along with all the other resistance groups. The Heinlein files waxed lyrical about environmentally-friendly terrorists who had seen the terraforming effort as an assault on nature itself and had somehow managed to sabotage the program. Two years later, the planet was barely habitable, but swept with massive dust storms and other problems that made building a sustaining civilisation very difficult. The Australians had tried to fix the problem, breeding up newer forms of plant life in the hope it would stabilise the planet, but nothing seemed to work. The UN eventually took over the planet and most of the Australian settlers moved to Oz, which at least had the benefit of not being a dusty hellhole.

“Lieutenant Walker,” the Captain ordered, “confirm with the Infantry that they are ready to head down to the planet.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. I turned the console over to Lieutenant Hafiz and left the bridge. The infantry weren't looking forward to their new posting, from their Captain to the lowest soldier. Andrew himself had been sleeping with two female crewmen, according to rumour, just to try to forgot the hellhole waiting for his men. They’d done their jobs too well and had been exiled from Earth. I wished – now – that I’d dared discuss revolution with him. The risk hadn’t been worth taking.

The UN had rapidly decided that Botany was a useless world. Although the atmosphere was breathable – and some of the more optimistic projections suggested that it might even settle down and become habitable in a few hundred years – no one in their right mind would want to live there. It had experimented with moving some of the remaining human tribes from the desert regions of Earth there, but it had been pointless. No one knew what had happened to them.

And then someone had had a brainwave. The UN had been taking over law and order on Earth for years, but it was causing them problems, because the UN’s ideology made it bad at handling law and order. Back then, back when it had had to care what people thought, it had a bad reputation for coddling criminals and not executing them, no matter how bad they were. The unnamed beauecrats – only a group of beauecrats could come up with something so stupid – had suggested exiling them to Botany instead. If they lived or died there – and both were possible as the planet couldn’t support large settlements – they wouldn’t be the UN’s problem any longer. The idea was taken up at once and several thousand criminals were dumped on the planet, the very dregs of society. Serial killers, mass murderers, paedophiles, religious fanatics and – inevitably – a growing percentage of people who had offended the UN in some way. There was no shortage of them.