The Shadow of Cincinnatus (32 page)

“Boston is heavily defended,” he said, instead. “However, her defenses cannot impinge on anything outside her orbitals. We gain nothing from attacking the system – besides, the enemy commander might surrender without further ado.”

“You don’t know that will happen,” Chang Li said. “We may treat prisoners well, but still...”

“And they may not believe it,” Charlie said. “They don’t know just how well we treat prisoners.”

The thought was infuriating. He had offered to exchange prisoners, during a brief lull in the endless taking, losing and retaking of star systems, but the Federation Navy had flatly refused. There was no way to know if the Federation Navy was simply reluctant to admit how few prisoners it had managed to take – or if something sinister had happened to those prisoners. The Grand Senate would not have hesitated to tear information out of their brains by force, if necessary, but he thought Admiral – Emperor – Drake would treat prisoners better. But then, the emperor did seem to have decided that the war against the Outsiders was effectively a holy war.
He
had no interest in peace on any but the Federation’s terms.

“And they keep refusing our peace envoys,” Chang Li added. “There’s no way to end the war, short of total victory.”

“And that might destroy us,” Charlie said. “Or them.”

Chang Li nodded. “Our own industry is working desperately to catch up with the Federation, but we’re still suffering critical shortages,” she warned. “Whatever happens, we are going to have to slow the tempo of operations soon.”

“Then we throw everything at Boston,” Charlie said. “If Intelligence is correct, taking Boston will knock the Federation so far back on its heels that it will need years, at best, to fix the damage and rebuild its forces. Emperor Marius will have to concentrate forces to block our advance to Earth, which will allow us to raid deep into their territory. We would win...”

“Assuming there’s anything left of us,” Chang Li said. “Can you assign the Marsha a major role in the operation?”

“Of course,” Charlie said. He gave her a grim smile. “I already have several ideas for expending as many of them as possible.”

Chang Li looked torn between rebuking him for the casual racism and giving him an understanding look. In the end, she shrugged.

“They really need to grow up,” she said. “And, along those lines, have you given any thought to targeting the Snakes?”

“I would strongly advise against trying to liberate the Snakes,” Charlie said, flatly. “It would be a public relations disaster.”

“The Assembly is torn,” Chang Li admitted. “Do we move to forgive or...”

“It doesn’t matter,” Charlie said, cutting her off. “The Snakes are the one alien race
everyone
hates, without exception. They’re not too primitive to know how badly they’ve been screwed, or too ethereal to give much of a damn about us, but they are humanity’s first real non-human enemy. Blowing away the battlestations in orbit around their world will convince a great many fence-sitters that the Federation, for all of its crimes, is a better defender of human rights.”

He sighed. “Make the really big changes after you win the war,” he advised. “There’s no time for a colossal spat right now.”

“That’s what I told them,” Chang Li said. She smiled. “Can you come up with a solid military reason for rejecting the concept?”

Charlie frowned. “Their world is too deep within the Core Worlds to be raided safely,” he said. “Besides, we’d need to devote a major battle squadron to the task, given how heavily defended the world is, and that would mean weakening our forces elsewhere.”

He rolled his eyes. It said something about the level of paranoia the Snakes caused in humans, at least in the Grand Senate, that they had
still
been adding refinements to the fortifications surrounding the one known remaining Snake-populated world, even though the Snakes themselves had been reduced to a Bronze Age-level of technology. There wasn’t a hope in hell of the Snakes managing to break the blockade without outside help. And even if they
did
get outside help, he would have bet half of his salary that the Federation had placed an antimatter bomb on their world, just to make damn sure the Snakes never escaped.

And they’re not even that dangerous
, he thought, wryly.
The Federation just intends to keep them alive as a potential threat, without letting them become a real threat.

“I think that’s the best justification,” he added. “Freeing the Snakes now might cost us the war in more ways than one.”

Chang Li nodded. “Very well,” she said. “And now...
can
you take Boston?”

“I think we have no choice,” Charlie said. “What happens if the Federation manages to get back on its feet?”

He knew the answer to that one, alright. His most optimistic estimate gave the Federation a colossal advantage over the Outsiders – at least five to one – assuming they managed to match the Outsider technological advances. The Outsider Navy would be forced back into the Beyond, then the Federation would start searching for their homeworlds and destroying every single one it located. And that would be the end.

“We lose,” Chang Li said, flatly.

She rose to her feet. “I have to get down to the planet in an hour,” she said. “I have yet another meeting with the leaders, then I have to be on my way back to Athena. It will not be fun.”

Charlie nodded in sympathy. Galen’s population seemed sympathetic, but they were only two short hops from Boston and they knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Federation would take a brutal revenge if they defected openly. For the moment, they were stalling and playing for time, hoping one side would actually win the war before they had to make a final decision. Part of him wanted to condemn them as cowards, part of him understood their fears all too well. They were right at the front line of the war, with the added disadvantage that anyone caught defecting from the Federation would be punished harshly.

“Good luck,” he said. “I’ll escort you down to the shuttlebay.”

“Thank you, General,” Chang Li said. “Overall, how are the crews coping?”

“Reasonably well, but the thrill of having overrun Athena has paled,” Charlie said. “We’ve shown we can best the Federation, but we haven’t managed to actually win or even force it to the negotiation table. Right now, we’re well-prepared for a drive on Boston, but our morale will take a catastrophic hit if we lose.”

“Then you’d better not lose,” Chang Li said.

* * *

“They say we’re definitely moving, this time,” Captain Roebuck said.

Uzi shrugged. One of the disadvantages of being a mercenary, even with two years of loyal service, was that no one told him what they thought he didn’t need to know. In his experience, they also tended to not tell him information he really
did
need to know, even when he was genuinely being a loyal – and well paid – servant. There had been so many false starts to the long-planned attack on Boston that he wasn’t taking any rumors seriously, until they were confirmed.

“That’s good, I suppose,” he said. Roebuck had been promoted, unsurprisingly. The promotion rates were quite high, for those who survived. Some of the mercenaries had muttered about that, but they knew the score. The Outsiders weren’t fool enough to promote mercenaries who weren’t anything, apart from hired hands. “And do we have definite instructions?”

“Not yet,” Roebuck said. “Merely an order to be ready for departure at forty-eight hours notice.”

Uzi smiled, mentally cataloguing the steps they would need to take to ensure the entire unit was ready to go. Roebuck might not have been manipulated into questioning everything he was told by his superiors, which would have been the first step towards turning him into a source, if not an active agent, but he had grown to trust Uzi. Uzi planned to take ruthless advantage of that in the future.

“I think we can make it,” he said. Roebuck’s transfer to the Outsider Naval Infantry – Uzi had pointed out that ONI was already taken, but the Outsiders had been unimpressed – had given him all manner of access, including some levels the Outsiders hadn’t realized anyone could access without proper security clearances. “Is it just us?”

“Just the Naval Infantry,” Roebuck said. “The other groundpounders are going to remain here.”

“And keep the planet under control,” Uzi said. It was hard to be sure, but he suspected the planet’s provisional government was playing a double game. The threat of bombardment could be used as an excuse, if the Federation won the war. It wouldn’t save them from execution, though. “The locals do seem to like us.”

“Mostly,” Roebuck said. He looked worried. Keeping track of men running in and out of the brothels was a minor nightmare, particularly when there were elements on the planet who were very unfriendly. “But I will be glad to leave.”

“I understand,” Uzi said. “I’ll call back the men, then keep them confined to barracks and running endless drills. The experience will do them good.”

“And keep the equipment functional,” Roebuck agreed.

Uzi kept his face impassive. Compared to some of the stupid greenie lieutenants he’d had to take by the hand and turn into officers, Roebuck wasn’t too bad. Even with Uzi’s strictly limited help, he was turning into a capable young officer. But he was on the wrong damn side. There would come a time, Uzi knew, when he would stick a knife in Roebuck’s back, even though he would regret it.

There’s no choice
, he told himself, as he reached for his terminal.
It has to be done
.

He contemplated the possibilities as he sent the signal, recalling the regiment to the barracks. The Outsiders didn’t like to admit it, but they’d effectively duplicated the Federation Marines, although on a smaller scale. They’d never really needed to hold down vast tracts of land, after all. The Naval Infantry were designed to take and hold fortifications in space, or even board starships, not land on planetary surfaces. And that meant...

They plan to punch through one of the Asimov Points
, he thought.
Unless they plan to force the defenders to surrender
...

“Make sure everyone is ready for deployment,” Roebuck said. “I have a good feeling about this one. It might be the
real
offensive we’ve all been waiting for.”

Uzi kept his face impassive. In his view, the longer the offensive was delayed, the better.

“And once we take Boston, we can move on to Earth,” Roebuck continued. “And that would be the end of the war.”

“There are more defended systems between Boston and Earth,” Uzi pointed out. “The offensive would have to punch through them, one by one.”

“But Boston is the big one,” Roebuck said. “We could win this war! Next year, we could be walking down the streets of Earth!”

“I’ve seen Earth,” Uzi said. “It wasn’t much to look at, really.”

And besides,
he added silently,
Earth’s fall will not end the war
.

“Sourpuss,” Roebuck said, lightly. “Earth’s fall will bring down the emperor. And then all we will have to do is mop up the remains.”

“I hope you’re right,” Uzi lied.

The downside of the Federation’s control (directly or indirectly) over the media was that no one believed a word the official media said. Unsurprisingly, when rumors started to spread rapidly, they were believed
.

-The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199

Earth, 4100

Jonathon Small disliked his job.

It wasn’t the food he hated, although a few years serving synthetic burgers to students had left his hands stained and greasy. Having a steady job was worth any amount of suffering – and besides, he and his fellows were allowed to finish the remaining meals after the diner had closed for the night. It might have left him fat, smelly and generally bad-tempered, but it
was
a steady job when there were almost none to go around. His wages ensured his family didn’t have to crawl to the civil servants for everything they needed, no matter how simple.

It was the
students
he hated. Many of them were bright young things, handsome or beautiful, without a single original thought in their brains. If, of course, they had brains. He had his doubts, because not a one of them seemed capable of stringing two thoughts together without a textbook from some overpaid teacher in front of them. And, he knew, most of them would graduate and then discover they couldn’t find a job. Who the hell wanted someone with a degree in liberal arts when Earth’s infrastructure was falling apart? The pretty young girls and handsome young boys would spend the rest of their lives in poky apartments, collecting dole from the civil servants and breeding the next generation of moronic idiots who thought they knew everything.

Maybe the girls will go on the game
, he thought, as he eyed one particular table, crammed with young girls in their late teens. The girls were even stupider than the boys, in his opinion; they tended to cling to their opinions, even when confronted with proof they were completely wrong. He still recalled one of them asking him, in all sincerity, if he didn’t feel exploited by his employers. Of course he did, Jonathon had thought, although he’d merely muttered something under his breath and then asked if she wanted fries with her burger. But at the end of the day, he was actually earning something and the students in front of him were living on the government’s teat.

But this time things looked different. More and more students were cramming their way into the diner, ordering plates of food and drink and then debating, in their earnest manner, something that had happened on the moon. It was just as absurd, in Jonathon’s view, as when he’d overheard students discussing the merits of Admiral Justinian’s war against the Federation and the Grand Senate. No matter what the students thought, the war would be won or lost...and nothing would change for the average citizen. There would merely be a different boss right at the top. And he’d been right. Emperor Marius had taken over, in the end, and what had changed for Jonathon? Nothing.