Winds of Vengeance (6 page)

Terrance flinched slightly at the machine’s abrupt change of topic. It did that periodically. And unpredictably. But he saw in those moments what he perceived as true glimpses of his father. He suspected he was kidding himself, reading into the words what he wanted to believe, but he clung to the thoughts anyway.

“He would be ashamed of me. I have enjoyed every advantage in my life, yet I have done nothing of substance.”

Terrance Compton II had been coddled and protected as a child, raised both as his mother’s son and as a sort of favored ward of the state, the least a grateful people could do to repay the man who had saved them all. The factions in the republic had long ago fractured and begun feuding with each other, but every one of them revered the memory of Admiral Terrance Compton. His memory, and the obligation the residents of Earth Two felt to maintain the unity he had worked so hard to forge, was virtually the last thread holding the republic together. And they had looked to his son as their future, as the natural leader to one day bring them into the future.

But such attention, the unyielding adoration and the soul-crushing expectations…it was too much for a young adolescent. Terrance Compton II had done all he could to lash out, to throw away every opportunity his birth afforded him. He’d been involved in one petty incident after another, and every time, the authorities had looked the other way, unwilling to move against the son of a legend. Terrance had continued his rebellion at the Academy, when he repeatedly challenged the commandant to expel the great admiral’s progeny. His exploits were forgiven there as well, until he’d pushed so far there had been no ignoring it. Even then, he’d been placed on administrative leave, not expelled. Even now, eight years later, he was still officially a midshipman, pending a reactivation he’d never requested.

“Terrance, my analysis, not only of your father’s memories, but also of the conduct of the humans I have observed around me, suggests far more complex motivations would have directed the admiral’s feelings and actions. Primarily, if he had survived, he would have remained the focal point of public adoration and expectation, shielding you from the harmful exposure you received when you were too young and undeveloped to properly process and manage it. There can be no certainties in analyzing human behavioral patterns, but there is a high probability that, if your father had lived, your own attitudes and motivations would have been considerably altered. Your species is quick to blame outside influences for poor conduct, but in your case, it is a legitimate assessment. The odds are extremely low that you, or any human child, enduring the well-meaning but nevertheless harmful attention you received, would have emerged without considerable emotional trauma.”

Terrance took a deep breath. He knew what the machine would say…they’d had the same conversation many times before. But he needed to hear it. He was angry at himself, ashamed at his lack of success, at his dissolute life. He’d never had to do a day’s work…the republic wasn’t about to allow the son of the great Admiral Compton to end up going hungry or sleeping on a park bench, and the stipends the Assembly had voted him were more than sufficient to support a secure lifestyle. He knew he’d never be forced to do anything at all. He could live his entire life comfortably, and never raise a hand to help build the republic. Or save it.

Terrance sat quietly for a moment. Then he took a deep breath. “It is time for me to make something of my life. Time for me to do something that would make my father proud of me.” He stood up. He’d been troubled recently, more so than usual. And now he realized it had been self-loathing that had stood in his way. Perhaps not from the beginning, but for many years now. And it was time to leave that behind.

“That is an extremely rational deduction, Terrance. In objective terms, you are a very capable human specimen, both physically and intellectually. You have much to offer your people if you so choose.”

“I so choose.” He turned and started walking toward the door, stopping abruptly as the machine said one final thing to him.

“Your father would have been proud of you, Terrance.”

*    *    *

“I do not doubt President Harmon is a good man at his core, one who would lift the Prohibition of his own volition. But he is also the man who signed it into law, and maintained it for twenty-five years. There are NBs of all ages on Earth Two, and Tanks too. Yet
we
are all twenty-eight years old. We have no younger brethren, not one of us in all that time. A quarter century of our people have been lost, proscribed before they ever existed.” Achilles spoke to the other Mules in the room. His voice was controlled as always, but it was clear there was anger there, or at least determination.

He looked around the table. There were a dozen of his people gathered. They didn’t represent the other Mules, not officially at least, but he knew the rest would follow those in the room.

“We all agree, Achilles…the Prohibition is a travesty, one we have waited far too long to address. Yet, what can we do except continue to lobby in the Assembly?” Peleus sat at the far end of the table. He was Achilles’ loyal ally…but even he had not dared to let his mind go as far as his friend’s had.

“There is no political answer, Peleus, my brother. There is no future in waiting, in hoping. That has been our path for many years, and it has led us nowhere, save to the brink of ruin.”

“I think you overreact, Achilles…I agree the Prohibition is discriminatory and unjust, but I hardly think we face ruin. The republic has prospered beyond the wildest hopes of those who founded it, and for all the political disruption now threatening it, I hardly think we are at the edge of an abyss.”

Achilles stared at the speaker. Meleager was the leader of the doves, those most opposed to taking forceful measures to secure the Mules’ rights. He knew Meleager spoke only his conscience and that his rival meant well, but he still felt annoyance. He had become increasingly unwilling to tolerate the systematic marginalization of his people, and he suspected one day, perhaps soon, if nothing was done, the Mules’ resentment would turn to anger…and then to rage. He had analyzed his own attitudes, the growing emotionality of how he viewed Earth Two’s various groupings. To an extent, at least, he resented the others, especially the ‘holier than thou’ NBs and their nonsensical notions of superiority, and he had resolved to see his people freed of the restrictions that had been placed on them. By whatever means.

“Meleager, my friend, the humans…” He paused. “…we humans…” Achilles had begun to think of the Mules not as a version of humanity, but as an entirely new life form. It was a view that had some scientific merit to it, but it wasn’t one likely to win much support from the public at large…or even the more moderate of the Mules. “…have a dark history. I invite you to study it in detail, and to use it to reassess your judgment on the threat we face.”

He paused. “More than twenty-five years, Meleager, that is how long the Prohibition has lasted. And for much of that time, at least since we attained adulthood, we have made repeated proposals for its repeal…all for naught. It is a permanent ban, my friends, in all but name. And if we stand here and decide to accept it, we are casting our lots for extinction. For we will age, slower than the humans…the others…perhaps, but inevitably. And when the last of us dies, we will be gone forever, for none of those who legislated our extinction are likely to allow our kind ever to exist again.”

The room was silent. Achilles was a firebrand, known among the Mules as a bit of a revolutionary. But the truth in his words was clear to all. If the republic had any intention of lifting the Prohibition, it would have done so by now. There was no reason—there never had been any reason—for the ban. None save fear. Fear of the Mules, of their greater intelligence, their expanded capabilities. And that fear would never go away. Indeed, by most perceptions, it had only increased over the years.

“We face a choice, my brethren, a stark and simple one. Accept marginalization and extinction. Or take action. Now.” Achilles’ tone became cold, hard. He understood the magnitude of what he was saying, and his convictions were solid.

“Even if we all agree, Achilles…what can we do? We are few and they are many. Perhaps they have already achieved the marginalization you speak of. It may be too late.” Callisto sat just to Achilles’ left. She was his ally—and his sometimes lover—and he knew she would support him. But he could tell even she had her doubts.

He looked at her. She was beautiful, an almost perfect manifestation of historic human physical ideals. He had often wondered how much of the fear and submerged hatred the others felt for his people were rational reactions to their intellects…and how much was simply jealousy of the more superficial manifestations of their modified genetics.

“Perhaps, Callisto. You speak wisely…we have waited far too long, and with each passing year, our position becomes weaker. We are vastly outnumbered, and we face considerable challenges. Yet we are not without strengths. I doubt anyone truly realizes how far our tentacles reach into the republic’s infrastructure, the true extent of our access to the data nets we created. How much of the republic’s technology derives from our work here? And how much of it do we effectively control? In the answers to these questions, you will see our path forward. If debate and petitions before the Assembly fail—as they have so many times—we must resort to different measures, more coercive ones.”

“You would blackmail the republic? Shut down vital systems?” It was Meleager again.

“Yes.” Achilles stared right at his rival. “I would. Not for conquest, not to enslave or destroy the others, but to secure our own futures.” He looked around the table. “It is the bane of our existence that we cannot reproduce naturally. We have tried…” He glanced at Callisto, pushing back a smile as he did. “…but to no avail. We have analyzed the problem, researched a solution…all for naught. The NBs have children…they are encouraged to do so. Even the Tanks can reproduce naturally. But our only hope for the future, to produce a new generation, the children we crave and need so badly, lies in shattering the Prohibition…and ensuring that we are never subject to fear-driven restrictions imposed by the others.”

Achilles paused, his expression darkening. “But we must do more. We must ensure our own security. We are outnumbered nearly a thousand to one. The NBs control the military, even the Marines, despite the fact that the majority of combatants are Tanks. They fear us already…if we take any actions to compel them to grant us our rights, you will see humanity’s bloody history in action. They will declare us outlaws, a threat to society. They will raise the people against us…and they will come. They will come and destroy us. We are more than a match for them one on one, perhaps even five on one. But not hundreds to one. We cannot prevail against them in a fight. Not yet.”

“So what do you propose, Achilles?” Peleus stared across the table, his eyes wide with expectation. All of the Mules were looking at Achilles with anxious expressions.

“Two things. First, we must reach out to the Tanks. They are inferior to us in many ways, there is little doubt of that. Yet they were quickened from the best of the human stock, and their genes were at least somewhat modified. They mature more rapidly than Natural Borns, though not as quickly as we do, and they are resistant to most diseases. They are also a minority, but one far more numerous than we are. And, though the senior command structure of the Marine Corps is dominated by NBs, a majority of the rank and file consists of Tanks.”

“There is discontent among the Tanks, there is no question of that, Achilles…far worse, I expect, than what has been publicly disclosed. Still, do you think they will make common cause with us, that they are ready to openly break with the NBs?”

Achilles stared down the table at Peleus. “I feel there is enough anger, certainly. The Tanks occupy far fewer positions of authority than their numbers would suggest. Part of this is because many of those roles are filled by the Pilgrims, who are, of course, all NBs. There is no inherent bias in that fact…the Pilgrims are the oldest and most experienced among both the NBs and the Tanks. But even factoring this out, it is clear the Tanks face far greater difficulty in rising to top commands and other positions of authority. There is no official policy restricting them, nothing like the Prohibition is to us, but the numbers don’t lie. The Tanks are at least as capable as the NBs, indeed they are more so in several measurable ways. Yet their prospects in whatever field of endeavor they pursue are not commensurate with their abilities.”

Achilles paused. “But they are not as segregated as we are, not as separate from the NBs. There are elements among them agitating, an active resistance movement growing in the shadows even now. It is that fringe we must seek out first, their support we must attain.”

A rough sequence of nods and quiet acknowledgements made its way around the table. Achilles nodded back and turned his stare to Meleager. “Well, my friend…what say you?”

Meleager was silent for a few seconds. Then he slowly nodded. “I have urged caution before, but as I become older, I feel the absence of a younger generation more keenly. I understand the fear of the others, perhaps with more empathy than you do, Achilles, but in the end we must choose our destiny. And I would hear the voices of children in the compound. I would know that we have a future. We have served the republic loyally. Most of the ancient technology that powers its society was deciphered through our work. I would not support a move to place us above the others, nor one designed to gain hegemony over the republic. But I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that we—whatever we are—have the same right to exist.”

“Thank you, my friend. When I have Meleager’s support, I know there is wisdom to my words.”

Meleager nodded. “Achilles is too kind.” He paused. “You said there were two things we had to do to protect ourselves. What is the second?”

Achilles hesitated. “We must control our own security. We must be able to defend ourselves against any attempt to attack us.”