“Let me make this clear to you,” I said, raising my voice so it would be heard above the din. “We did not break off from the Unified Authority, they abandoned us. We owe them nothing. They abandoned their clone military. They abandoned their outworld territories. They discarded their fleets.”
My comments were greeted with a scared silence.
“You say you have twenty-three planets in your empire? Did you conquer them, or did they join willingly?” Doctorow asked, shattering the hush.
He didn’t understand. He was so lost in his vision of a perfect society that he could not comprehend anyone’s rejecting his views. He resented any outside authority, and he instinctively believed that everyone else felt the same way.
“No one held a gun to anyone’s head,” I said, not entirely sure that was the case. I hadn’t asked.
The meeting lapsed into some form of order—even chaos runs out of energy. The wildfire conversations burned out, and I explained the situation as I understood it, leaving out one small detail—that our forces were infested with U.A. assassins.
“Is it still your goal to conquer Earth?” Doctorow asked, his voice solemn and flat.
I turned and looked up at him. From his lofty seat, Doctorow stared down on me, the light forming shadows across his face. The shadows added grim punctuation to his solemn expression.
“I am not the one who would make that decision,” I admitted.
“I’m sure you’re an important man in your empire,” Doctorow persisted, then he dredged up ghosts from a distant conversation, and asked, “Do you want revenge?”
Revenge? I’d spent the last week concerned with survival.
“Conquering Earth makes no sense. Why declare war on the Unified Authority? Why fight a war at all?” Doctorow asked. “The Unified Authority is not your enemy.”
“I would not call them my friends,” I mumbled in a voice that no one else would hear.
“You came in a fighter carrier. Do you plan to force us to join your empire?” Doctorow asked.
“No,” I said. I felt an odd sense of defeat. I had not come expecting a warm welcome, but this mix of fear and hostility caught me off guard. “You’re welcome to join, I suppose,” I said. And there it was, I had reverted back to acting like a guest on Doctorow’s planet.
“We’ll consider your offer, General Harris, but I don’t expect the people of Terraneau will want to join you.”
“No, I suppose not,” I said. I hadn’t really offered them membership. In truth, Terraneau was far more trouble than it was worth.
The auditorium had become so quiet that I could hear people breathing. “My vote will be against any form of treaty,” Doctorow told the auditorium. “I will resign before I sign a treaty with the clones or with the Unified Authority, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that Terraneau remains a neutral planet.”
“Not even for protection?” I asked, more out of curiosity than concern.
“General, men like you bring wars upon yourselves,” Doctorow said, sounding so damn sympathetic as he condemned me with his words. “We don’t need protection. Take away the armies and the battleships, and we won’t need to protect ourselves.
“Nations, empires, armies …we don’t want any of that on Terraneau. We’ll vote on your offer, General Harris, but I can tell you the outcome already.”
“You probably can,” I agreed. I didn’t care. With a government like this, Terraneau would make an unreliable ally at best.
“My vote is for you to take your Marines and go away,” Doctorow continued.
Applause broke out in the auditorium. A woman rose to her feet, nodded, and clapped her hands. More representatives stood and joined her. Pretty soon, every person on every tier had risen to their feet and begun to applaud Doctorow’s statement. The sound echoed through the well, drowning everything else out.
I did not hate these people, but I did not care what became of them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
What should I have called it? An interrogation? An inquisition? Doctorow might have described it as a hearing, but that sounded too benevolent by my book. I was glad when it ended.
As we drove away from the government center, Hollingsworth asked a question that came so out of the blue that it took me aback. He asked, “What if it came to a choice between her and us?”
“You sound like a jealous girlfriend,” I said. “The relationships do not overlap. She’s my girl, you’re my Marines. It’s completely different.”
Night had fallen over Norristown. Streetlights blazed, as did lights in windows and headlamps on cars. Just a few short months ago, nothing but fires and flashlights had lit the city after dark, now it sparkled.
“Not all that different,” Hollingsworth said. Now that I had returned, he had not once bothered using the word, “sir.” “You screw her. You screw us. It’s a different kind of screwing, but you’re still screwing us.”
If I’d been driving, I would have pulled over and hit the bastard. We could have had it out with our fists. It sounds primitive, but it’s better than letting things fester. A couple of black eyes, a bloody nose, and maybe some bruised ribs, and we would get on with our lives. Unfortunately, he was driving.
I worked with what I had. I pulled the corner of my collar and held it out for Hollingsworth to see. “Listen here, you self-pitying waste of speck. See these stars? You may not like it, but these stars make me a more important person than you. You got that? You’ve got a bird and I’ve got stars and that means you will either show me respect or I will throw your ass in the brig.”
He did not speak for several seconds. Finally, he said, “Sorry, sir.”
“Get this through your skull, Hollingsworth, I did not start the war with the Unified Authority. If you haven’t figured that out, it’s time that you did. They sent us out here to use us for target practice. You got that?”
“Yes, sir.” He stared straight ahead as if driving through hazardous traffic instead of empty streets, his hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel.
“I wasn’t the one who started the war. So if you are going to blame me for something, blame me for saving the specking fleet.”
This woke him from his stupor like a slap across his jaw. He looked at me, and said, “Begging your pardon, General, but the way this Marine sees it, Admiral Warshaw saved the fleet when he started up the broadcast zone.”
“Who came up with the idea of salvaging broadcast equipment in the first place, asshole? Who came up with the idea of hijacking those self-broadcasting battleships?” I asked.
Hollingsworth went back to staring straight ahead. He did not answer my questions.
“By the way, I hope you don’t plan on staying on Terraneau,” I said. “Your pal Doctorow told me to pack up my Marines and leave.”
More silence.
This was not how I wanted the conversation to go. When we left the meeting, I had half expected we could have a friendly conversation. I thought we might stop somewhere to talk over a couple of beers. As I saw Hollingsworth seething with anger, I realized that friendly conversation would never happen. He and I would never be friends.
“Turn up here,” I said, pointing to a road that headed to the northern edge of town.
“I thought you wanted to head to base,” Hollingsworth said.
“I changed my mind,” I said. I told myself I was being logical, that Hollingsworth could order the men to pack; but logic had nothing to do with my decision. I felt alone, and I wanted reassurance.
I knew the way to Ava’s house like I knew the scars on the back of my hands, and I told Hollingsworth every turn well in advance.
“Do you want me to send a jeep for you, sir?” he asked, as I climbed out.
“No, Colonel, I think I’ll find my own way back to the base,” I said.