“As you may have surmised, each missile has just changed vectors, some of you rather sharply. With greater incoming data, we have discovered that each had enough fuel to re-target. You will now engage the Bangladesh en mass. I repeat: it will be a mass assault. Battle-files of Assault Formation 42 have been beamed into your AI’s for your study and implementation. Vladimir of 83rd Maniple is promoted to Hauptsturmfuhrer of the 42-type Assault. Second-in-Command will be Wu of 192nd Maniple. Third in Command will be Kang of 101st Maniple. Remember, men, excellence brings rank. That is all.”
The crackling in the headphones quit, and for a moment, there was silence as each absorbed the news. Then:
“Congratulations, Kang,” Marten said.
A grunt was the reply.
“That should have been you who was promoted, Marten,” said Lance. “What a sham. Mad Vlad in charge and our own murderer as the third runner up.”
“Kang knows his business,” Marten said.
“He’s a psychotic killer,” said Lance.
“Isn’t that what Marten just said?” asked Omi.
“What?” asked Lance. “Are you saying we’re all psychotic?”
No one answered.
“Oh, right,” said Lance. “We’ve all killed people. We all survived Japan Sector. What a hellhole that was. What I’m saying is that Kang loves it. The thrill of pulling a trigger and watching the bullets rip into flesh, releasing the spirit.”
“I didn’t know you’re religious,” Vip said.
“How do you figure religious out of that?” asked Marten.
“The spirit part,” Vip said.
“Oh,” Marten said. “So, Lance, are you religious?”
“Of course. The whole thing is self-evident.”
“What do you mean?” asked Vip.
“Look, there’s God and the devil, right?” said Lance.
“Right,” Marten said, when no one else answered.
“Well, look around you,” said Lance. “The devil is supposed to be the Lord of Evil, and I see a lot of evil around this solar system. It proves beyond a doubt that the devil is alive and well.”
“Okay,” Vip said. “But that doesn’t mean God is real.”
“Oh yes it does,” said Lance. “Because how did the devil get here unless God made him? For evil to be around there has to be God.”
“God made evil?” Marten asked.
“No!” said Lance. “Without God there’s no conception of evil. You don’t know something unless you see its opposite. And since we’ve seen so much evil, well, that proves God is real.”
“I’m not psychotic,” Kang said.
Lance guffawed.
“Am I psychotic, Omi?”
“No,” Omi said.
“Oh, right,” said Lance, “he has to say that ‘cause he knows you’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”
“Maybe you’re not psychotic, Kang” Vip said. “But you’re a bastard. I’d rather have Marten as maniple leader.”
“None of that,” Marten said. “Kang is in charge.”
“But you know that you’re a better tactician than Kang,” said Lance. “You’re better than Mad Vlad, too. Hauptsturmfuhrer. I thought the Highborn always made logical choices, especially in matters of combat. This time they screwed up.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Marten said.
“I don’t want to have to shoot you, Marten,” Kang said.
“No, not about you being maniple leader,” Marten said. “You’re welcome to it.”
“Are you saying that you don’t want to be maniple leader?” asked Kang. He sounded dubious.
“Forget about that, will you?” Marten said. “I’m talking about the Highborn.”
Omi spoke quietly. “These comlines might be bugged, Marten.”
After Marten stopped laughing, he said, “That’s good. We’re traveling at twenty-five-Gs into oblivion and you’re worried that the HBs might be tapping us. Screw them.”
“That’s insubordination,” Kang said.
“So what?”
“So once we’re out of here the discipline codes state that—”
“Kang,” Marten said. “What if we don’t get out of here?”
Silence.
Finally Vip said, “Don’t talk defeatist.”
“Why don’t you switch your HUD to the stars instead of all that porn you’ve been watching,” Marten said.
“Yeah, so,” Vip said a few seconds later.
“Aren’t the stars beautiful?”
“Marten’s cracking up,” Vip said.
“No,” Marten said. “I’m facing the fact that this might be it. And that’s thanks to the HBs. So like I said before: Screw them.”
“You have a point,” said Lance.
“No he doesn’t,” Kang said. “You live by the rules given you. You survive.”
“Screw the rules,” Marten said. “You live by being who you are.”
“Or you die if that’s too far out of whack with everyone else,” said Lance.
“Maybe,” Marten said. “Or maybe you find somewhere else to go, somewhere sane.”
“Like where?” asked Lance.
“The Outer Planets.”
“Enough of that,” Kang said. “While I’m leader, you’ll can that kind of talk.”
“Doesn’t it bother you being shot at the Bangladesh?” asked Marten. “The fact that you’re nothing more than a biological bullet?”
“Ain’t nothing I can do about that,” Kang said.
“Isn’t there?”
A heavy sigh. “Your problem, Marten, is that you’re a dreamer. The world chews up dreamers and spits them out.”
“Or we change the world,” Marten said.
“One time out of a thousand,” Kang said. “The way I count, those are poor odds.”
“Okay,” Marten said. “You want to let them hook you to the harness like a horse, you go ahead. You want to let them stuff you into a missile and fire you into a frozen void, you do that.”
“You’re letting them do it to you too,” Kang said.
“What I’m saying,” Marten said, “is that maybe we should rethink that.”
“Rethink it how?” asked Lance.
“Maybe by declaring our independence,” Marten said.
Silence.
“If I’m psychotic,” Kang said, “you’re a nut.”
“Omi, tell them about the gelding.”
Quietly, Omi did just that. When he was done, there was more silence.
“Yeah,” said Lance. “A rotten deal if I ever heard of one. But this independence… I don’t get it.”
“I’ll shoot the lot of you,” Kang said. “You get that, don’t you?”
“All I’m saying is that we have to be ready to play our chance,” Marten said. “If we see it—I’m going for it.”
“First we have to get onto the beamship,” Omi said. “Tell me how we’re going to do that.”
“Well,” Marten said, “by first hoping that our masters have outsmarted the enemy, and that our missile reaches the Bangladesh, and then that the beamship doesn’t kill us. Then we can worry about whether we fight our way aboard or not.”
They thought about that.
“I’ll shoot anybody that does something stupid,” Kang said. “And if you’re thinking about fragging your maniple leader, then I’ll shoot you even sooner.”
Marten sighed. “Look at the stars for a while, will you? And then think about your life, what it means, what it is worth and what it’s all about. Maybe while you’re at it you can think about Lance’s God, too.”
“Or the devil,” Vip said.
“Sure,” Marten said. “Why not? It seems like he’s making the rules these days.”
12.
At first, General Hawthorne was dazed. The chief members of his staff were dead, blown away by Air Marshal Ulrich. A PHC-squad in Joho Park had come to whisk him away to who knew where and for what nefarious reason. And that neural inhibitor on his neck—the bionic captain had noticed it while they descended the stairs. He’d peeled it off, and later had said that he’d felt its vibration. Reflexively the captain had clutched the neural inhibitor in his hand, and watched his hand explode a second later.