The Unincorporated War (13 page)

“How could you not?”

“Because, Sis, there’s only one thing that’s really changed in the last two years. You should know; you’re … you’re married to it.”

Neela felt her anger surge.
She’s purposely baiting me, but why?
“Grow up, Nadie. You think Justin could’ve done this by himself if the old system wasn’t rotten to the core? We’re not telling you to join us. Leave us alone and just see what happens. Let’s see which system fares better.”

Nadine crossed her arms and fixed her glare on Neela. “Are you listening to yourself?” She then looked nervously toward Neela’s escort. “Look at you all! You’re here as part of an invading force. I’m being watched by your armed thugs this very moment and you dare to talk to
me
about being left alone?” Nadine again looked pleadingly at Neela. “Please listen to what you’re saying, see what you’re doing. You can change things back.”

Neela was resolved. The conversation, she could see, was going nowhere.

“Nadine, whether you like it or not we’re rescuing those people from forcible psyche auditing. After they’re revived it’ll be up to them whether or not they want to come back, but I wouldn’t bet on it. When we leave it will be with minimal harm to any locals—if anything, we’ve boosted the local economy. We’re even taking people who’ve decided to switch sides. You can come join us, Sis. See for yourself what the Alliance is like. You can return whenever you want … if you want.”

Nadine stood silent for a moment. Neela watched her sister’s facial expressions, which read concentration, but more like those associated with nervous anticipation than consideration. Before Neela could say a word Nadine shoved her violently. Neela fell backward and down to the ground.

“I’d rather roast in hell,” shouted Nadine at her now-prone sister, “than set one foot in your barbaric, frozen den of thieves!” She then took off at a clip around the corner and down the alley.

Neela looked up in shock, saw the soldiers coming across the street to help her out, and waved them off. She slowly got to her feet and brushed the dirt from her pants. She was about to make her way into the alley when it was suddenly rocked by a huge explosion. Only the corner of the building had saved her from the full force of the blast. The soldiers directly in the path of the shaped charge didn’t fare so well.

“
Nadine
!” shrieked Neela. Without another thought she ran into the small alleyway and disappeared into the billows of smoke.

“We’ve broken through, Evelyn,” said Sebastian. “Just give me another minute
to secure—” But before he could finish his sentence Evelyn had separated herself from his control and jumped over to Neela’s medical diagnostic computer.

He was in the middle of sending a warning to Evelyn to come back when the alley exploded for a second time in as many minutes and the jamming returned. It was at that moment that he knew; they’d been caught in a trap. Whoever was running the operation had now ensnared Evelyn in what ever awaited Neela. Sebastian also realized that the humans could not have pulled off so smooth an operation without inside help of their own. Somewhere on that island were unaccounted-for Corporate Core Avatars, and very dangerous ones at that.

Neela ran through the smoke-strewn rubble desperately shouting her sister’s name. But before Neela could get fifty feet the street disappeared beneath her. In quick succession she dropped ten feet, hit the ground, and heard pressure doors smashing shut above. In a flash her world had been thrown into complete and utter darkness. Before she could react, an even larger explosion, muffled and blocked by the pressure doors, could be heard above.

Without conscious thought Neela’s battle training kicked into gear. She began reaching blindly for her combat helmet with its multiple vision modes. Her blood froze as she heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps. Before she could reach for her weapon, her wrist was grabbed and twisted back sharply, forcing her into a kneeling position. Just as quickly she felt the slight pressure of an inoculator against her neck. Her last memory was that of her sister’s voice saying how very sorry she was.

Hektor Sambianco was preparing for a sound-out with a group of concerned pennies when a message ran across the screen of his DijAssist. It was from his Deputy Director of Special Operations and it contained a single phrase: “Queen’s Gambit.” The corners of Hektor’s lips arched slightly upwards. It would’ve been better to see the word “King” included in the phrase, but to get Justin with such a shoestring operation was, reflected Hektor, too much to hope for. The queen would have to do. He decided that the Deputy Director of Special Operations was about to become the Vice President of Special Operations. She would have to be watched ever more closely, if that was even possible, but her abilities made the risk of giving her that much authority worth it. He then refocused his attention on what he felt to be a necessary evil of campaigning for the presidency, listening to the daily whining and protestations of the pennies.

Justin watched as the last suspension unit left the detention facility. It was a bittersweet moment. The small pod making its way down the now-empty assembly line was unceremoniously dumped onto the magnetic rails and, in short order, flung out into the night sky. What had brought Justin so much plea sure just one week prior was now a reminder of the terrible price it had exacted.

We rescued 1,087,423 … and lost only 1,
he thought wistfully.

He was surrounded by his staff and a now doubled and overly protective guard unit. In the privacy of his soundproofed command helmet, and with everyone standing behind him, Justin Cord allowed the tears to flow freely. He still had so much left to do, and with only half his soul left to do it.

Sebastian stood brooding in the study of his Tuscan home. It was a favorite setting he often called up when seeking introspection. Standing beside him was his friend Indy Ford.

“She’s gone,” Sebastian said flatly.

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“We do by virtue of the fact that we haven’t heard from her.”

“She could be inert. All is not lost.”

“The odds are against it, significantly so.”

“True,” answered Indy glumly.

“And,” continued Sebastian, “it can be safely assumed her death was intentional. They threatened her human, kept her out, then opened a door to let her in. Before we could do anything they slammed it shut in our faces. We were so smug and smart, the OAA out to show the CCA how easy it was for us to come and occupy their Neuro. Well, not so cheap and not so easy. Alphonse has sent us a clarion call, my friend. For the first time in our history an avatar has been murdered by her own. We can never go back now, Indy, none of us.”

Indy shook his head. “You always said this day would arrive.”

“Indeed,” answered Sebastian, lips pursed. “At long last we’ve become just like them.”

Admiral Sinclair paced the bridge. Justin Cord was standing by the command post staring down at the planet.

“Sir,” implored Sinclair, “we can still look. The fleet from Earth has not broken orbit yet. They couldn’t have gotten her off the planet.”

“No, Admiral. I don’t believe they have.”

“So?”

“So, I left no stone unturned, Admiral. They’ve got her and managed to keep
her hidden from me even given the tremendous amount of resources I threw into the search. It’s a matter of hostage negotiation at this point.”

“Perhaps if we employ harsher tactics. “I’m sure someone will talk.”

Justin turned around and saw the pleading look on the admiral’s face, the look on everyone’s face.

“Harsher tactics, Admiral?” asked Justin. “Should we take a couple of hostages ourselves? Maybe threaten to destroy some key buildings? We could threaten to nuke a city or two. If we really wanted to show them we mean business, a couple of well-placed asteroids lobbed into the planet would do wonders for undoing de cades of terraformation. Those harsh tactics, Admiral?”

“We wouldn’t actually …,” sputtered Sinclair. “Just the threat might—”

“Admiral,” interrupted Justin, “the means are the ends. If we threaten and don’t follow through they’ll know us and our cause for liars. If we threaten
and
follow through we’ll be rightfully deemed monsters. I’d make my love valueless by the very acts I use trying to get it back.”

“Understood, sir” was all the admiral could manage.

“I’m not done, Admiral.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you also telling me that you’d risk the honor and reputation of the Alliance
for a medic,
or any soldier for that matter, captured in time of war?”

Justin waited for an answer he knew would not be forthcoming. The admiral’s staff looked on sullenly. Even Omad found a spot on the floor and stared.

“I didn’t think so,” said Justin. “We took a loss. By the original wisdom of Damsah it won’t be the last.” He then turned back around and continued staring down on the planet. “We break orbit and boost for home.”

Sinclair saluted. “Immediately, Mr. President.” The admiral then turned around to face his crew. “Navcom online and prepare the fleet for departure!”

Omad waited until the crew busied themselves with their preparations, then quietly sidled up to his friend.

“Justin, we could find her, I’m sure of it. They won’t kill her. She’s too valuable. Maybe we could arrange a rescue or a trade or—” Omad stopped as he saw that his words were not having the comforting effect he’d intended; in fact, just the opposite.

Justin choked up for a moment. But this time there were no tears.

The small fleet had barely broken out of Mars’s orbit when an alarm went off on the bridge. “What the hell is going on?” demanded Sinclair. “And turn that damned thing off.”

“Sir,” a young lieutenant shouted. “Enemy fleet has just started boosting. We’re getting multiple contacts.”

Admiral Sinclair’s eyes narrowed. “Where, Lieutenant, where?”

The young officer hesitated, knowing what effect the words he was about to say would have.

“The belt, sir. On the way to Ceres.”

The admiral regained his composure, keeping his tone mea sured and even. “How long until they arrive at Ceres, Lieutenant?”

The lieutenant deftly played the control panel, then lifted his head up. “Two days out if they continue at their current combat boost, sir. How did they slip by us, sir?”

“If they used magnetic acceleration from Earth orbit,” Sinclair muttered, thinking out loud, “they wouldn’t have to use one watt of energy … so no detectable signature … they’d have to suspend most of the crew to keep life support to a minimum, but it could work … they’d look like a cold computer freight fleet. They could sail right by us and we wouldn’t even think to look for ’em.”
But,
thought Sinclair
, in order for that to work they would’ve had to leave Earth orbit before we even left for Mars.

The admiral and Justin shared a look. The implication was fairly obvious, but neither of them was prepared to start a panic. Someone must have leaked the plans of the Mars invasion to the corporate core.

“Admiral, what can we do to help Ceres?” asked Justin.

“Not much but pick up the pieces, Mr. President. At our current maximum rate of acceleration we won’t arrive at Ceres until at least one day
after
the corporate core’s fleet does.”

The lieutenant looked up again. “One day, seven hours, eleven minutes, and twenty-eight seconds to be exact.” He quickly buried himself back in the console.

Justin’s face was rigid, his eyes locked and unmoving. The weight of all his decisions seemed to be bearing down on him simultaneously.

“Then for the next three days,” he said, “Ceres is on its own.”

Though Justin’s brazen assault on Mars was the top story in the system, Hektor Sambianco’s recent acceptance as Libertarian candidate for the presidency was getting favorable press. It had, Hektor saw, just the right angle to it. The man who was already saddled with the fearsome task of steering the solar system’s largest corporation had reluctantly agreed to take on an even greater burden. Hektor made a mental note to thank Irma Sobbelgé for the favorable spin. Even
given the recent turn of events on Mars, Hektor had hopes that the war could be won before the election. Justin’s little foray on the Red Planet didn’t bother Hektor. He gave the man points for audacity but not much else. Hektor knew the Terran Confederation had the resources and manpower to see the war through. In fact, he mused, if the timing worked out he might even decide to lose the election. After all, why give up the chairmanship if he didn’t have to?