Chaos Quarter: Imperial Ambitions Page 46

  “Hey, Lopen said they didn’t have enough hotel rooms, which means not enough showers. We smelled like shit; a solution presented itself, I made a command decision,” Rex explained.

  “You seem to make a lot of those,” Jones remarked.

  Rex frowned. “So should we get on with this then?”

  Jones reached under the chaise and retrieved his suitcase. He opened it and pulled out a sheet of electronic paper, handing it to Rex.

  “That’s the official version of what I’m about to tell you,” he said.

  “Great,” Rex muttered. He rolled it up and tossed it on the sand by the cooler.

  “Reactions to your report have been somewhat mixed,” Jones said. “There are some who are saying you don’t entirely understand the concept of a clandestine operation, that you’re too much a soldier to be a good spy.”

  “Perhaps. But you knew that when you hired me,” Rex replied.

  “Yes, but open combat with a Europan Forlorn Hope Brigade? Kind of a stretch even by my elastic standards,” said Jones.

  “I had several hundred intelligence assets to protect. What was I supposed to do?” said Rex.

  “Yes, I read your reasoning, or rather I read the reasoning you wrote in your report,” said Jones. “But I have this nagging sense that you might have had other reasons than that.”

  “You mean you think I might have stayed and fought because it was the right thing to do?” asked Rex.

  “Something along those lines.”

  “Please. I’m much too jaded for anything that naïve,” Rex said. “I just figured five hundred eighty-two primary sources of information on the Europan empire was something worth fighting to protect. That’s all.”

  “Remember that bit when you’re standing in front of the review,” said Jones.

  “Standing before the what-now?”

  “Before a Senate Clandestine Intelligence Committee Review,” Jones informed.

  “That sounds…exasperating,” said Rex.

  “You have no idea,” Jones said. “But between slaughtering Europans in a Terran battle suit, killing the emperor’s half-brother, and destroying a Europan destroyer…you’ve kind of raised some hackles. The words ‘international incident’ have been thrown around.”

  Rex finished his beer, and chucked the bottle down in the sand.

  “I suppose I should’ve just let the Europans drag them back?” Rex snarked. “At least then the politicians wouldn’t have an ‘incident’ to deal with.”

  “Nobody is saying that,” Jones countered.

  “No, just implying it,” Rex snarled. “You think I’m gonna go apologize before a bunch of fuck-wit senators, then you’re in for a rude surprise. I’d go back to being a fisherman before that happens.”

  “Well, don’t go uploading new résumés just yet,” Jones said. “As you said, you have brought us five hundred eighty-two people eager and willing to spill their guts on the empire. Considering that all of last year only seven serfs made it to the Commonwealth, your haul is quite impressive. Plus since most of these people transitioned into living a free life from one of slavery, they’ll be of use helping us transition other escaped serfs. Sometimes the jump from absolute tyranny to freedom can be jarring.”

  Rex said nothing, just got himself another beer.

  “And there was the warrior you brought back, this ‘Keith’ fellow. Never had one of them jump ship before. Could be something new there,” Jones continued.

  “Don’t press him. His daughter just died, and his wife is due to give birth any day now. Push too hard and you might break him,” Rex said.

  “I saw that in your report. Our people will be careful,” Jones spoke. “And there is also Vermella to consider.”

  “Well, consider her some place far away from me,” Rex said, acid toned. “I still regret I didn’t space her when I had the chance.”

  “Understandable, but I think your forbearance will pay off,” said Jones. “We’ve known about pheromone manipulation on the small scale, but the things you described…controlling a person’s mind that completely…it’s scary stuff. A lot of people in the EID don’t want to believe the things you say.”

  “Then they can go spend a few minutes alone with her, learn all about the ‘fun’ of synthetic pheromones and imprinting viruses,” griped Rex.

  “Not sure that will be necessary,” Jones replied. “But it’s still a threat, people like her, even if, as you say, most of her people were wiped out. You wouldn’t need many people like her to do some real damage.”

  “Nope. Just one,” Rex said bitterly.

  “Yeah,” said Jones. “Still, between her and the people you brought back, it should balance out upstairs—enough for you to keep your job anyway.”

  “And yours, I’d imagine. Seeing as you recruited us,” Rex commented.

  “Indeed,” said Jones, a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

  Rex let the thought hang and refocused his attention on the water. Jake, being too heavy to swim, was laying in the surf and letting breakers roll over him. Lucius was sprawled out on the sand a few feet away. Second was in the water, wearing her silver bikini. She stood alongside two youngish-looking boys, who looked out at the ocean eagerly. A wave rolled in. The boys ran toward the beach, launching themselves upward and riding the wave toward the sand. Second attempted the same move and promptly sank into the water. She emerged moments later, sputtering and spitting. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she turned and marched a half-dozen feet out, where she waited for the next wave.

  “How long has she been doing that?” asked Jones.

  “Nearly an hour,” Rex replied.

  “You gonna show her how to do it right before she drowns?” Jones asked.

  “Better she learns how to learn,” Rex said. “Besides, she can swim.”

  “That’s good. But since you brought up things to learn, you really gotta be careful about sleeping with intelligence assets. It can cause trouble if you’re not careful.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rex asked.

  “You do know the bridge is a public space, and everything that happens in it is recorded?” asked Jones.

  Rex froze, the bottle in his hand halfway to his lips. He held like that for a long moment, his mind scrambling. All he saw was images of Cindy writhing on top of him, and office-bound analysts looking on with a bowl of popcorn.

  “I did not realize that,” Rex said.

  “Well, it is, and you transmitted a copy of your ship’s datacore when you sent your report so…well, certain amorous activities of yours are now permanently part of the EID archives,” said Jones. “Just thought you should know.”

  “In my defense, there was a wounded man in my bed,” said Rex. “Cindy and I were only being polite.”

  “Yes, your compassion is admirable,” Jones said with a smirk.

  “Damn straight it is,” Rex replied.

  He took a long draft, letting himself watch Second’s fumbling body-surfing efforts a moment longer.

  “You should probably go show her how to do that,” Jones said.

  “In a bit,” said Rex. “I’m assuming you saw my request?”

  Jones frowned, and took a long sip himself. “Yeah, I saw it, made more than a few people go wide in the eyes. The Soldier’s Honor is not something the War Department gives out lightly. And burial at Taylor Valley…”

  “They deserve it,” Rex said gravely. “All of them.”

  “I don’t deny their bravery, Vahl. I saw the cam footage from your ship; I saw what the freedmen did. But they’re not military.”

  “They’re eligible; you know it. Any person fighting alongside Terran soldier in defense of their freedom—” Rex began.

  “Yes, the Brothers-In-Arms Rider, I’m aware of it,” said Jones. “But technically speaking you’re not an active-duty Commonwealth soldier.”

  “Jake checked the law for me. Soldiers on reserve still make them eligible. And last I checked, I was still on Fleet
Reserve.”

  Jones sighed heavily.

  “Yes, that is true. Technically they meet all the criteria,” Jones admitted.

  “Then what’s the issue?” Rex pushed.

  “Foreign fighters, fighting alongside a retired, fleet pilot, fighting a battle that wasn’t supposed to happen, on a mission that was supposed to be clandestine,” Jones summed up. “To a bureaucracy, that’s a mess to explain. And our people upstairs will have to come up with some cover story for how all these freed serfs got here, a story that doesn’t include you or your crew. Which means that this hypothetical story will have to be written down in the archives, so that anybody who notices their graves at Taylor Valley will have an explanation for how they got there. ’Cause you know there will be somebody who just has to poke. And people like that are a pain in the ass to fool.”

  “And you think that’s reason for denying them their due honors?” Rex countered.

  Jones blinked and shook his head. “How has a person like you survived working for the federal government as long as you have?”

  “I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” said Rex.

  “You’re not going to budge on this, are you?” Jones asked.

  “I’ll dump my datacore on the networks if I have to,” Rex said coolly.

  Jones head turned, fixing him with a stare, the kind that chilled the air around you. Rex didn’t flinch, meeting and returning the glare.

  “Just try me. There are plenty of jobs out there that don’t involve getting shot at,” Rex challenged.

  Jones sighed again and looked back at the sea. “Well, you’re lucky. Federalists control the congress, and you know how much they hate the empire. You’ll get your stones, but don’t expect much fanfare.”

  “They don’t need fanfare, just honor and remembrance,” Rex said.

  Jones nodded solemnly. Despite his hesitations, he raised his bottle. Rex matched the motion, clinking his bottle against Jones’s. They drank quietly for several minutes.

  “Guess I better go help Second out,” Rex said. “Keep an eye out though; I already got three beers in me. It would be embarrassing to get all the way back to the Commonwealth just to drown on a beach.”

  “It certainly would be,” said Jones, helping himself to another beer.

  “You know I paid for those out of my own pocket,” Rex said.

  “Oh. Well then, I promise that I’ll feel a little bit guilty about drinking them all.”

  Rex shook his head, and then went out to tutor Second in the laws of buoyancy.

  What Arlington was to the Americans, Taylor Valley is to the Free Terran Commonwealth. It is the most sacred of sacred grounds. When the idea for a National Cemetery for the Commonwealth first came up, most wanted it built near New York, the capital. But given the crowded cityscape of New York, and the exorbitant price of land outside it, the congress decided a more bucolic location was needed. In retrospect, most veterans and their families do not mind. They are far from the politics and crowds of the capital, away from tourists who would swing by “just to say they’d done it.” Upstate New York is a nice place, but not vacation central. Which means most of the people who go are there to pay respects, not snap photos.

  Taylor Valley is different than Arlington though. You don’t get buried at Taylor Valley unless you served in the military. Presidents don’t get buried there, not unless they wore the uniform. Politicians and celebrities don’t get buried there, not unless they served at some point in their lives. Soldiers go there, to rest quietly, alongside their brothers and sisters in arms, under the ever-watching eyes of the Vigil Guard…

  —Larson Goddard, Requiem in the Hill Country: The Making of Taylor Valley Cemetery, 2489

  Taylor Valley National Cemetery, East of Cortland, New York, United States of America, Earth, Sol System, Standard Date 10/20/2507

  Lucius stood a short distance from the internment ceremony. He’d intended to be closer, but dark looks from several of the freed serfs had convinced him to hold back. Rex had decided to join him, not one to let anybody slight his crew without consequence. Jake and Second remained up with the survivors of Valley Town, Jake casting unsure glances between the freed serfs and Rex. Second, unaware of such subtext, quietly watched the ceremony.

  They had come to the point where the casket was being lowered into the earth. Lucius was in a suit they’d rented in a town just north of the valley. Rex had managed to beg a lieutenant’s uniform off the Taylor Valley staff, and was standing beside him in full-dress regalia.

  Lucius had not even known places like this existed. In the empire nobles built themselves grand monuments for death. Filled with statues and glorious words, they’d proclaimed to all who saw the “greatness” of those who lay beneath. The emperors even had their own Sepulchral Isle, where they built pyramid-sized tombs to remind all of the importance of “God’s True Servants.”

  But nobody in the empire would have dreamed of building something grand for the warriors. When they died their bodies were burnt, so their spirits could go off to the “Warrior’s Hall.” As they were only “half human,” there was no need for them to be remembered.

  The Terrans viewed things quite differently. Taylor Valley was a sprawling cemetery, impossible to miss. Despite the name it was not actually in the valley but above it, on the west-facing slopes of the valley’s eastern wall. The ridge it sat on rose some seven hundred feet out of the valley, the first five hundred or so somewhat steep, the last two hundred gentle. The steeper slopes had been terraced, some of the terraces running for nearly two miles.

  It was an impressive feat of engineering, but what struck Lucius was the lengths the Commonwealth went to in the name of honoring the common soldier. They’d altered a small mountain just to give their warriors a quiet place to rest. There were no giant monuments, no statues or arches or anything of that sort. There were just terraces full of same-sized graves, with the occasional tree to add some lightness to it all.

  The sameness of the graves struck him. Partially it was because they resembled soldiers standing in ranks, which was clearly the intent of the cemetery’s creators. But it was the names on the graves that struck him. There was no discrimination to it, no special graves for generals or officers. They were all mixed, colonels next to privates next to admirals, on and on. The Terrans made no distinction in death. They bestowed the glory on all.

  He glanced up the terraces. They were near the summit, where the ridge transitioned from the steep terraces to a gentle, plateau-like slope. He could see men silhouetted at the transition point, in full-dress uniforms. They carried rifles on their shoulders and walked the ridgeline with a practiced, military stiffness. They were Vigil Guards. Rex had explained it all as they’d entered the cemetery. They kept watch throughout the cemetery, circuiting along the terraces and across the gentle upper slopes. Every six hours they changed, and new guards took up the walk. They did this twenty-four hours a day, every day, regardless of weather. It struck Lucius deeply, that amount of dedication. The Terrans guarded their dead, their dead, just to make sure none disturbed the peace of their slumber.

  How did you fight a people who valued a grunt with a gun as much as a king?

  The rattle of gunfire interrupted his thoughts. The honor guard was doing a salute. This was Kate’s service. The cemetery had arranged stones and burials for those who had died on Longshot, those who they had bodies for. The others, those who remains still lay on Anglesey, would receive a stone and an empty casket in the following week. It was the best the cemetery could do on short notice, but Lucius felt it would be enough. Most of the serfs had come to Earth from Manx, so they’d be here to see their loved ones honored.

  But right now it was Helen and Keith, sitting in folding chairs before the grave. Helen held a newborn in her hands. She’d given birth not long after reaching Manx. They’d named the boy Connor. He was sleeping now, blessedly oblivious to the sadness around him. Keith clearly was not. The man’s face was a wreck, the muscles limp, the
eyes listless. He stared at the hole where his daughter’s body had descended, unable to pull his eyes away. Lucius knew the feeling all too well. He’d felt it intensely for months after Chardae had died, made all the worse by the fact that her mother, Yvette, had been killed as well. Keith was fortunate that the woman he loved was still by his side, there to help him deal with the grief that was to come. As he mulled about that, a voice broke his thoughts.

  “This concludes our service today. May God go with you all, now and for all your days to come,” announced the chaplain.

  He folded his arms and retreated slowly from the group. The honor guard snapped a stiff salute, one that Rex matched. They then turned, and marched away in perfect order. Slowly the cluster of survivors drifted apart, some stopping to help Keith and Helen to their feet. Cindy walked past them as she left, flashing a small smile at Rex before moving on with her people. Near the grave Keith lingered long, looking into the pit. With the knot of mourners gone, Lucius could get a clear view of the stone itself.

  “Kate, Daughter of Keith, 2487–2507. She gave her life for the cause of freedom.”

  That last part, from what Rex had told him, was what the Terrans called the “Soldier’s Honor.” There were two versions of it. The most common was “He/She served honorably in the cause of freedom.” This was given to any soldier who passed away, from any cause, provided they hadn’t disgraced themselves or their uniform. Kate’s version was less common, but somewhat more revered. It was only given to those who had died in the line of duty. From the way Rex had spoken of it, it was clear that these simple words were considered one of the greatest honors a Terran soldier could receive. All of the fallen from Valley Town would receive it. Lucius did not know if this had taken some doing, but he supposed it didn’t matter. The fact that the Terrans would be willing to extend this to people who had been strangers meant something.