Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) (23 page)

"So things haven't changed much," I couldn't resist adding.

"No," he said. "They haven't. Anyway he was sitting there on a rock, white hair, wrinkled skin, no shirt. I told him I was seeking enlightenment and respectfully asked if he could tell me the secret of life. He said yes, and gestured me to come closer."

"I leaned in real close and he whispered 'Get all the pussy you can.'"

We laughed and cheered and drank more mead.

"Hey, here's the captain!" Nan Man was standing in the doorway, his huge form blocking out much of the light.

"Welcome, Captain," Doggie said. "Come on in. Join us." Fred brought him a tankard of mead.

We told the captain the secret of life. He laughed.

Δ

"The idea of the UMC was to cast off the dead hand of the System, and start over, and create something worthwhile from the wreckage," Captain Nan Man said. The captain was quite a guy. He told us his warname was Nan, although his troopies had called him Nan the Man. "We recognized where we had gone wrong," he continued, "but the list of catastrophic errors was so long as to be endless." The mead session in the Viking had turned quite serious. The rise and fall of civilizations was not something to be lightly discussed over mead, and both the captain and his audience were very concerned about the subject, although they viewed it from different perspectives. "And every error led to another," he continued, "and soon we realized the only solution was to rip up everything that had gone before. Annihilate the past, and build the future from a firm foundation." The captain took a deep draught of mead.

"Easier said than done," he said. "The main problem is the human material you are working with to build a new society. The idea of the UMC was to build it around the Mocain race – a strong ethnic base to construct a constitutional republic. We were looking at the CrimCon – excuse me, Con Free, believe it or not, although we would never admit that to anyone. Your society worked, we had to admit. Ours didn't.

"We cast off a whole lot of troublesome worlds, just cut them loose, and got to work on our core. Even then we were left with plenty of problems – problems we'd created ourselves, when we ran the System. The System was an empire. We ruled over hundreds of worlds and races and cultures and societies and religions and political philosophies. All different. The Mocains were a disciplined minority. Still are. Our solution, under the System, was to divide and conquer, pit everyone against everyone else, and create a climate of ignorance and dependency on government largess by redistributing society's wealth while stressing that everyone was equal. This worked for hundreds of years. The result was a society of parasitic slaves. Millions of them never worked, and we helped them convince themselves that society owed them everything. Those are our citizens. No, they're not interested in a constitutional republic that will produce great wealth if you contribute to it. All they want is for you to give them money. And our political class supported them – in return for the political support that allowed them to live like kings off the public tit. So we found we couldn't just tear down the rotten structure of the System. Our citizens much prefer slavery to freedom."

"But if your government has made the decision to reform, can't you do it? And work around the obstructionists and all those ignorant slaves?"

"No. We can't. We tried that on Earth. Look what happened. It was the politicals – traitors. The military and intelligence services see the problems clearly, but the politicals are wedded to the past. It's like a civil war is coming at us. That's what's happening on Terra. It's the Mocains versus everyone else. And everyone is going to have to choose sides."

"It sounds like you've already chosen sides."

"Yes. The major problem is those treasonous politicals. After that we can address the problem of the slaves. Maybe we can just write them out of the society. You have restrictions on citizenship, don't you?"

"Yes. You have to demonstrate that you are contributing to society, before you get your citizenship and can vote. And you have to demonstrate that you understand the issues."

"Good idea. If we did that, about ninety-nine percent of our citizens would fail the test. But they don't care about voting – all they want is the money."

"Are you going to attack Terra? Take it back?"

"You know I can’t answer that."

"Revolutionary decadence, right?" I asked. "The UMC overthrew the corrupt United System Alliance and imposed what was to be a better society. But it became what it had overthrown. And now the PJ's have their chance at constructing a tyranny. Right?"

"More or less," Captain Nan replied. "It's depressing. It's easy to lose sight of your original objectives. You need a strong, united base. With goals that are understood by the entire society. A revolution that will not eat its own children."

"And how do you do that?" Scout asked.

"I think it has to be strong – very strong. Based on blood. Based on people who are all pledged to the same objective. And it has to involve the family – and it has to include the extended family. ConFree has the Outworlders, and the Assidics. We have the Mocains. You can trust blood, you can trust your family. You can't trust outsiders."

"It has to be stronger than that," Scout said. "You need holy warriors – people who have lost everything, people who are left with nothing but a burning hatred and a determination to avenge themselves upon their enemies. People who have accepted that they are already dead, and want only to make the death worthwhile. Then great things can be accomplished."

A stunned silence followed.

"Are you talking about yourself, Scout?" I asked cautiously.

"No. No. Not anymore. I used to be like that. But not anymore."

Δ

Arturo lived in an awful, rotting crash pad that he rented by the month. Scout had used it, once, as a safehouse. More than once was always dangerous. Things were very bad on Sirrah in those days and Arturo was lucky to find the place. Arturo was an old friend. As Scout approached the pad through a filthy, trash-strewn alley his senses were acute – it was a wet, cold, very dark night. Nobody was stirring. The old wooden door to the pad was locked but Scout disabled the lock easily and slipped in to the short, pitch-black entry hall. A soft light was on in the bedroom area. Scout stepped in. Arturo was seated at a little table, clad in a thick ratty sweater, sipping a cup of warm water, staring into space blankly.

"Harold!" Arturo exclaimed, twitching in surprise, spilling his drink.

"Yes, it's me," Scout said. How long had he known Arturo? Arturo was a close comrade, always faithful, standing by your side thick and thin, risking it all – for a new world. Fearless. My blood brother, Scout thought.

Arturo was pale. He looked frightened. "What is it?" Arturo asked.

"The Thought Police are raiding our safehouses. Looks like most of them. Rounding up the action cell. The Hand has been arrested."

"Good lord! Do you need help? I don't know if this is the best place–"

"No. I don't need help. I've come here to kill you."

Arturo just stared at him. Scout was covering him with a silenced handgun. Finally Arturo found his voice. "Don't do it, Harold. How can you think it? Whatever you heard, it's a lie. I'd die before I'd…"

"We know all about Uncle Earl," Scout said. "We've been listening to your transmissions. You're a traitor."

Arturo was dead white and silent. He was sweating. He sighed, and spoke, almost in resignation. "They've got Alicia. They're torturing her. They'll kill her if I don't cooperate. What am I supposed to do? Let her die? She's all I've got to live for."

"Yes, I know," Scout said. "It's best to have nothing to live for. I'm sorry it had to end this way. Goodbye, my friend. We'll meet in Hell." Scout fired, a double tap to the chest, one more to the head. Arturo crashed to the floor, his blood splattering all over the walls.

"Scout! Scout! Wake up! What is it?" It was Bees, shaking Scout awake. Scout's heart was hammering, cold sweat on his brow.

"Oh God. Sorry. It was a nightmare," he confessed, groggily. "Something from the past." Bees was crying! Scout was instantly awake and alert. "What is it, Bees? What?"

"Oh. You woke me up," she said. "Thrashing around like that. I didn't get to eat the soup." She was wiping the tears from her cheeks, faintly smiling.

"Soup? What soup? Why are you crying?"

"Tears of happiness, my dear. I was so happy! And then you woke me up."

'I'm sorry. Sorry. What were you dreaming about?"

"It wasn't really a dream. It was my mom. She came to me. She was real – so real! I had forgotten how wonderful she was. Calm and smiling, for me. All those little details I had forgotten – that tiny little mole on her neck. Those golden flecks in her brown eyes. So much love, flooding me with love. Her smile was like a sunrise. We were at our little breakfast table, on Mica, with the blue and white checkered tablecloth. She made wheat noodle soup for me, with mint and bean sprouts. That was my favorite. She made it for me! She came out of her world, out of Heaven, and visited me, and made my favorite soup for me. She placed the bowl before me, and touched me lightly on the arm. It was the touch of an angel. Infusing me with love. Looking right into my eyes. And the soup smelled so good! It was love soup, that's what it was." She was dabbing at her eyes with the sheet.

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

"What was your dream about?" Bees asked.

"Nothing. It was nothing."

"My mother visited me, Scout. She stepped out of her dimension, and visited me. How wonderful! Our love is so strong! Nothing can separate us! And she's happy! I feel so good knowing that."

"I promise I'm going to love you forever, Bees," Scout said. "I'll never stop loving you. When I die I'll be going to Hell, but don't you worry about that. I'll bust out of there real quick. And when you show up in Heaven I'll be just outside the gates, waiting for you. Even if it takes a million years. I'll be there."

"Don't you say that, Scout! God knows all about you; I've told him everything. You're the most wonderful person I know. You'll be going straight to Heaven!"

"There's a lot about me you don't know, Bees."

"God knows."

"That's what worries me."

"Don't say that. God forgives you, whatever it was. His love is unconditional. Just like mine."

Scout didn't say anything else. He just embraced her until he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. It was warm and cozy. He knew he didn't deserve her. But he was not going to question his good fortune. He thought about Arturo. What a shame. But Deadman would sort it out, wouldn't he? Is it really treason if you die for love? Scout didn't know.

"Good morning, Commander," Captain Nan Man said. He had just entered the Prof's office, with a minipak of datacards. The Prof stood up from behind his desk to receive him.

"Morning, Captain. Please call me Professor – or Prof. We're very informal here." He gave the captain an easy smile.

"Yes sir – Professor. I have the data we discussed earlier."

"Let's sit over here," Prof said, guiding the captain to a couple of airchairs set by a low table. "Would you like some dox?"

"Why thank you, Professor. Quaba dox is magnificent. You should taste the vile stuff they serve on Alphard. Well no, you shouldn't. It's pretty bad."

They enjoyed their dox for a while, then turned to business.

"These developments are intriguing," Prof said.

"That's the word. It's hard to see where it's going, or what it means."

"Ah well, that's our job, isn't it – to provide answers."

"I suppose so. I'm afraid I don't have any answers yet. Only questions." He spread five datacards out on the table.

"All right, let's take it one incident at a time."

"Fine. The first – 384/12/03 CGS, the P.S. Hardee is spotted exiting stardrive into vac commercial approach channels heading for Luyten. It had no ID pulse but cursory investigation revealed it was the Hardee
,
a small personal yacht that had been registered in UMC records under that name. The ship was recorded as lost, possibly pirated, around a year earlier. With no ID pulse, that was pretty much confirmed. We sent an interceptor to seize the ship but there was no response to our orders to cut power and unlock ports. A squad of startroopers boarded her forcibly. Here's what they found." He clicked one of the datacards to open on the Prof's large wall screen. The view was taken from the helmet of one of the startroopers. The ship was a charnel house, the walls bathed in blood, the deck running scarlet like a river of blood, and the corridors full of mutilated bodies.

"It's hard to look at," Captain Nan admitted. "Twenty-three pirates, affiliated with a gang called the Living Dead. The entry was from the main hatch and involved a single tacstar blast that took out all opposition in the immediate vicinity. The ship did not decompress, so they were using a hatch seal. Once inside the ship, they used fighting laser. Those pirates who weren't caught in the initial blast all died by laser. The intruders sliced the bodies in two at the waist, then sliced off heads, arms and legs. Very efficient, very deliberate, and quite unnecessary, no?"

"It's almost as if they were angry. Any hint who did it?"

"Not immediately. The Hardee had been set on course to Luyten, preprogrammed to enter orbit. The pirates certainly didn't do that. It was the creatures who killed them that did it."

"I've seen ships that were attacked by the Demons," Prof said. "They used plasma and plasmastars almost exclusively, although they also have laser capability. This does not resemble a Demon attack."

"Oh, it's not. The second incident was the former UMC Suzie C, captured inport on your 381 CGS during a big and very effective raid by the Gypsy Rats. The Suzie C was a star carrier and the most advanced starship ever starjacked by pirates. The incident led to new security updates for all UMC ships. Anyway, it was lost until two weeks ago when it was spotted in normal vac heading for Alphard. Again, a whole ship full of heavily armed rats – thirty six of them, slaughtered. Again, the initial blast followed by a laser massacre of every Gypsy Rat. But this time we learned exactly who the attackers were." The captain clicked the wall screen to life again.