“How long?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Make it five.”
It actually took about six minutes, which gave Drakon time to issue the same orders to the rest of the ground forces on the planet that he had given to Rogero, Kai, and Gaiene, and time to come up with something to tell the growing mobs of citizens that hijacked ISS surveillance systems were spotting everywhere. Exactly what to say had taken a little thought before he realized that the Syndicate Worlds had long provided the perfect rationale in its own propaganda.
“This is General Drakon,” he said into the net linking all local officials. “I am in control of all the ground forces on this planet and am operating with CEO Iceni. We are in charge. All local officials are ordered to get onto the streets and calm the situation. You are to help maintain order, you are to reassure the citizens that the snakes have been dealt with, and you are to direct all celebrating into harmless paths. Use your local police to ensure that all liquor stores, bars, and pharmacies are closed and locked down immediately. There will be ground forces detachments visiting your homes to make sure that you are following these directions. Get going.”
Malin shook his head. “They’d be a lot more effective if they actually represented the citizens in their areas. Being able to control voting software is a lot easier than controlling voters.”
“Shift me to full broadcast,” Drakon ordered, waiting as Malin entered the commands. When he spoke next, his words would go out to every phone, vid screen, terminal, speaker, public announcing system, and anything else on and off the planet with the ability to receive messages.
“Citizens,” Drakon began, “I am speaking on behalf of myself and CEO Iceni. We have eliminated the ISS on this planet and throughout this star system. Henceforth, Midway will be an independent star system. We will no longer follow orders from the failed Syndicate Worlds.
“It is critical that while we celebrate this day, we also do not forget the importance of protecting our homes and our families. A breakdown of order could too easily result in the destruction of our homes, the places where you work, and loss of life. I have ordered the police onto the streets to ensure that everyone and every place is kept safe from anyone careless or irresponsible enough to threaten the safety and security of all our citizens. Because of the possibility that some ISS personnel might still be hidden among the crowds celebrating today, I am also ordering out ground forces troops to back up our police. Be aware that anyone urging actions that could lead to rioting or looting could be an ISS agent attempting to lure you into danger.” Perhaps that would lead the crowds themselves to turn on anyone trying to turn them into mobs.
“Celebrate our independence, but do not forget the enemies who will endanger it.” That had always been the mantra of the Syndicate Worlds. Invoke the fear of external and internal enemies, of disorder, to maintain support from the citizens. “Though this has been kept secret up until now by the ISS, other star systems have fallen into anarchy and massive loss of life and property following the collapse of Syndicate authority. I will not allow that to happen here. All citizens are to follow the orders they are given by the police and ground forces. Peaceful and orderly celebration is allowed and encouraged, but anyone who riots or loots will be shot on sight. They will not be allowed to endanger their fellow citizens or to steal from their fellow citizens. This is General Drakon, for the people, out.”
That last phrase sounded particularly false this time even though he had said it countless times, the repetition and lack of sincerity each time rendering the words “for the people” meaningless to everyone who used it. But this time he had felt those words and been stung by their lack of real significance. We didn’t do this for the people. We did it for ourselves, to survive.
Drakon turned back to Malin and Morgan. “Get a reporting system set up to consolidate what the automated systems are seeing. I need to know whether the crowds get out of control anywhere.”
Morgan shrugged. “We can do that, but what will you do if one of the mobs does start to run amuck? Give them another stern lecture?”
“I’ll send in reinforcements and kill as many as I have to in order to restore order.” He had learned that, too. You did what was necessary, whether you liked it or not. Maybe there were other ways of handling out-of-control mobs, but he didn’t have access to any of those ways just then. “I will not have this planet turned into ruins overrun by rioters.”
The optical sensors on the heavy cruiser holding Iceni were no match for those on a battle cruiser or battleship, but they were still good enough to easily spot small objects across light-hours of distance. So close to the battered C-990 every surface detail could be made out, and when holes smashed into the hull came into view the sensors could catch glimpses inside.
Both of the escape pods which had fled C-990 had been recovered by forces loyal to Iceni. One was empty, and the other held only dead members of the crew who had been shot at close range and apparently died after they managed to launch the pod. From the outside, the cruiser itself still seemed lifeless.
“Could they have killed everyone?” Akiri asked in sickened tones. “Just kept fighting until the entire crew was dead?”
“That’s possible,” Iceni replied. “How long until the uncrewed probe enters C-990?”
“Three minutes. The approach is taking longer because C-990 is tumbling and the probe has to match the motion before it can enter.”
When the probe finally managed to slip inside through one of the rents in C-990’s hull, at first nothing was visible but torn equipment and bulkheads. Then the first bodies came into view.
“These were killed by hell-lance fire,” Marphissa said. “They were dead before decompression hit.”
Iceni just nodded in reply. One skill we all learned through experience, how to identify how people had died. Too many people, too much experience. And it hasn’t ended.
The probe made its way past the dead, angling toward the bridge. “Vacuum everywhere,” the probe’s controller reported. “No signs of patching holes to maintain pressure. That hatch was forced when there was vacuum on this side and pressure on the other. That didn’t happen when we fired on the cruiser.”
The bodies on the other side of the hatch only reinforced that observation. “Damage to their survival suits from hand weapons.”
“How many were attacking and how many defending?” Akiri demanded.
“There’s no way to tell.”
Iceni suppressed a shudder, imagining the havoc that must have played out aboard C-990. The crew fighting among themselves, surrounded by wreckage, no way to tell one side from the other, so that it would have been as easy to target friends as enemies in the death grapple among the intermittently lit and torn-up passageways and compartments.
“The last two mutineers, or the last two loyalists, could have killed each other, not knowing what they were doing,” Marphissa commented, echoing Iceni’s thoughts. “If there’s anyone still alive, they’ll probably be at the bridge or at engineering.”
“Send the probe to the bridge first,” Iceni ordered. That was where Kolani would surely be.
The probe wended its way though the passageways, dodging wreckage and the dead. The interior of the wrecked cruiser increasingly reminded Iceni of a nightmare, emergency lights eerily bright in some places, only flickering in others, deep patches of darkness looming that might have a single, still hand thrust out into the light, the fingers curled in a last attempt to grasp nothingness. A broken ship carrying a dead crew, like something out of a sinister legend of space.