Marama turned away from the camera for a second, and when he turned back he was holding his hand terminal. He held it up to the screen. It was displaying the picture of a little girl. She was wearing a powder-blue jumpsuit that had Hinekiri hand stitched on the breast, and grinning with small crooked teeth.
This is my little girl, my Kiri. Shes four. She has what the medics call hypoxic brain injury. She was born a little prematurely, and instead of the high oxygen environment she should have had, she was in my prospecting ship where the air is a little thinner than the Everest base camps back on Earth. We didnt even know anything was wrong until we realized she wasnt developing normally.
He turned away from the camera and put the terminal down.
And shes not the only one. Developmental problems arising from low oxygen and malnutrition are becoming more and more common. When this was explained to Mr. Marconi, his reply was, Work harder and you can afford the increase. We complained to the Anderson-Hyosung head offices, but no one listened. We complained to the Outer Planets Governing Board on Luna.
This isnt We didnt start out intending to take over the station. It all just sort of happened, the man said. For a moment, his voice seemed to waver. As Fred watched, the man forced himself back into calm. We want everyone to know that, other than Mr. Marconi, whose crimes would have led directly to the deaths of thousands of Belters, no one has been harmed in our taking of the station. We dont want anyone else to get hurt. Were not violent people, but we have been pushed so far that there is nowhere left to retreat to. Weve been in discussions with a UN military negotiator for almost two days now. In a short time, we will be surrendering the station to them. Well send this message out prior to handing the station over to make sure our story is heard. I hope no one ever feels like they have to do something like this again. I hope, after all of this, that people can begin talking about whats happening out here.
The video ended. Fred queued up the tightbeam that had been sent to the negotiation team during the assault.
Marama Brown again, this time holding a pistol, his face twisted with fear.
Why are the Marines attacking? he said in a panicked screech. We just needed some time! Were surrendering!
The message immediately repeated. Fred stopped it and turned it off.
Sir.
Fred took a long breath to fight back the vague nausea he suddenly felt.
Go ahead, Lieutenant.
Phantom reports a clean hit. The relay is toast. But, uh
Spit it out, soldier.
It was no longer broadcasting. Whatever they sent, they were done sending it.
Fred pulled up the comm logs, and confirmed what hed already suspected: Marama Brown had never gotten to send his manifesto. Fred had been ordered in, and Marama had been busy trying to stay alive. But his last tightbeam to Psych Ops had gotten through just fine. Theyd known.
Sir? the lieutenant said.
Doesnt matter. Call up the cyber wonks and have them strip the computer core. Ill go find the liaison officer and start the civilian aid phase.
His lieutenant chuckled.
Here, kiddies, the lieutenant said. We blew the shit out of your station, have some free MREs and UN Marine sticker books.
Fred didnt laugh.
You had to have known that they were desperate out there, Dawes said.
Of course I did, Fred said. It was in all the reports. Hell, it was on the news feeds. Increased overhead. People struggling for the basics. You hear it all the time. Turn on a feed now, youll hear it again.
The blood had stopped flowing from Freds mouth, but the inside of his lip tasted raw. His shoulder was settling into a low, radiating ache. There was a dark circle of blood on the decking in front of him.
But this time it was different? Dawes said. He didnt sound sarcastic or angry. Just curious.
Fred shifted. His legs were dead lumps of meat. He couldnt feel anything. If someone put a knife into his thigh, it would have been like watching it happen to someone else.
That man had a crippled baby girl, Fred said. I killed him.
The UN would just have sent someone else, Dawes said.
I still killed him.
You didnt pull the trigger.
I killed him because he wanted her to have enough air to breathe, Fred said. I killed her daddy while he was trying to surrender, and they gave me a medal for doing it. So there you go. Thats what happened on Anderson Station. What are you going to do about it?
Dawes shook his head.
Thats too easy. Youve killed lots of daddies. What made this one different?
Fred started to speak, stopped, tried again.
They used me. They made it about sending messages to everyone that you dont fuck with Earth, because look at the shit well do just because you spaced an administrator on a nowhere station. They made me the poster boy for disproportional response. They made me a butcher.
Saying the words was painful, but there was a strange relief too. Dawes was staring at him, his face unreadable. Fred couldnt meet his eyes.
Dawes nodded, seeming to come to a decision, then put a hand in his pocket and took out a utility knife. When he opened it, the blade was old and scored. Fred took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was ready. Dawes walked behind him. A fast pull across the neck, and Fred could bleed out in four minutes. A stab in the kidney could take hours. Cut the cords that were tying his arms, and it could take years.
Dawes cut the cords.
This wasnt a trial, Fred said. Youre not here to pass some kind of judgment on me.
I wasnt expecting to, Dawes said. I mean, if it really had been just that youd been boning one of your marines, Id have dropped you out an airlock, wasteful or no. But I was pretty sure I was right.
So what happens now?
Dawes shifted Fred forward. The pins-and-needles feeling was starting in his hands. Dawes cut the binding on his legs.
If you want the easy way out, you go kill yourself on your own damn time and stop setting the OPA up to take the blame for it. Ive got enough bad press without slaughtering the hero of Anderson Station.
And otherwise?
Dawes sat back on his haunches and closed the blade with one hand.
I dont waste resources, Colonel. If you want to die, it will do that girl and her father absolutely no good. If you want to make it up to her and all the people like her, I could use your expertise. Youre a rare resource. Youve got knowledge and training, and as the man who is famous throughout the whole system for killing Belters, youre in a position to be our strongest advocate. All it means is walking away from everything you know and love. The life you built for yourself. The admiration of everyone who looks up to you. All the things youd have lost anyway.
This was a recruitment, then.
Dawes stood up, sliding the knife into his pocket. His smile reached his eyes this time.
You tell me, Dawes said. Then, to the woman, Recanos ai postar. Asi geendig.
Aiis, she said, shouldering the rifle like a professional.
The pair walked out together, leaving Fred on the deck, massaging the agony out of his legs as the feeling started to return.