Extremis (65 page)

“Still in our care, Captain,” Harry reported promptly. “He was removed and kept separate from his mother to—to ensure her compliance with the hearings, as per your orders.” McGee heard Roon Kelakos’s teeth grinding behind him; to his front he saw Cap Peters’s back-clasped hands clench into a white knot. Unwittingly, in mentioning Alexander’s removal from Jennifer, the Hider had touched upon his own fatal misstep, the straw that had broken all the strong backs of the Marines now gathered before him—and hundreds of others, besides.

The image had stuck with everyone who had seen—and later whispered the tale of—it: little Zander wailing, shrieking as Heide’s private team of especially doltish Resistance members pulled the toddler from Jennifer’s grasping hands. Then came the tersely worded general announcement that declared the child’s “special welfare” completely dependent upon Jennifer’s abject compliance with the farcical treason hearing Heide had summoned into existence by autocratic
fait accompli
.

When Marine faces were at last free to turn away from those sights and pronouncements, their jaw muscles had been bunched and hard. Alternatives were considered and then, slowly, shared—at first obliquely, then more openly, then in surreptitious groups. Part of defending humanity, they decided at last, meant protecting its most innocent members from the delusional abuses of those leaders who happened—by chance rather than merit—to be in power.

Leaders like Heide, who was even now letting his possession of the infant float in the air like an unuttered threat. “So although we do not have the accused, we do have her offspring. And I will point out that it has never been conclusively proven that the child has not been influenced—even modified—by the Arduans. So you might want to send word that if detainee Peitchkov wishes to ensure our continued attention to the special welfare of her child, she should voluntarily return herself to this facility at once.”

McGee had sworn to be silent—had promised all of them that he would—but he had not foreseen that Heide would stoop to such base extortion. “What does all that double-talk mean, Captain Heide, sir? Are you going to try Alexander in place of his mother? Are you saying that you’re ready to take it all the way? Are you really up to executing an infant, Heide?”

As the last line came out of McGee’s mouth, Heide turned pale—and the big Marine knew that he had won. But, in the same instant, he had the terrible certainty that Heide had not gone pale because he had been confronted with the idea of killing a child for the deeds of its parents, but because he knew he had irrevocably lost his authority. He had overplayed his hand and thus stepped right into McGee’s trap.

Marina Cheung thankfully broke the silence—and also provided a segue into a conclusion that might allow Heide to withdraw and save face. “Captain Heide, since I’m sure you didn’t mean to suggest that the child should be considered as a candidate for execution or euthanization, I see no reason to retain these remarks on the record.”

Heide’s initial relief quickly changed to trepidation. “The record? What do you mean?”

“Captain Heide, you gave me express instructions to run the court recorder from the time the detainee entered the room. When the door opened, I naturally presumed…”

Heide looked trapped: his shoulders tightened, his head came forward into a posture that somehow looked dogged and cowed all at once. “You misunderstood my orders, Ensign Cheung. I meant that—”

“Yes, Captain Heide, I realize that now. Of course, given the rather extraordinary report we now have on tape, it would seem necessary that all present parties would have to explicitly agree that its erasure would not constitute the destruction of what might become essential evidence in a later hearing on either misconduct, mutiny, or fitness for command. It seems to me that all of these issues were directly or indirectly raised during the exchange we now have recorded. But if all the parties can come to a suitable understanding, I’m sure we could all agree that this recording was made in error and need not be part of any legal proceedings, current or anticipated.”

Cap Peters nodded. “That sounds like a good plan, Ensign Cheung, but it sounds to me like there’s a problem as long as we’ve got a treason hearing pending. After all, it’s still on the docket—and here we are to see it carried out.”

Heide straightened up, hearing the alternative being laid out for him. “Lieutenant Peters makes an excellent point. Perhaps the best way to handle this impasse is to simply use this occasion to announce that the hearings are dismissed for want of sufficient evidence to support an investigation of treason. That would save us all a great deal of time—and it might induce the detainees to return of their own accord.”

Chong nodded thoughtfully. “I believe that if we can get the message to them, it would almost certainly have that effect. I suspect it would also make them far more willing to provide intelligence on the Arduan city of Punt, and Baldy SOPs in general.”

Heide stared at McGee. “Would it have that effect?”

McGee did not respond. Instead, Cap Peters offered his opinion. “I think we can rest assured of that, Captain. I also think if the detainees were housed in regular quarters as intelligence specialists, rather than isolated in the brig, that might further encourage them to help us come up with a viable plan for a decisive strike against the Baldy command structure.”

“
Da
,” agreed Danilenko, “but for safety’s sake, I think a general announcement needs to be made among the rank and file that the persons in question are no longer detainees or prisoners. All our soldiers have been taught to think of them as possible security risks for so long, that if these people were now to be encountered in the corridors, unescorted…”

“Yes, Sergeant, I see your point,” agreed Heide with a rapid swallow. “I will make a general announcement that all hearings and charges contemplated against the detai—the
former
detainees, have now been dropped for want of any substantiating evidence. And that with their help, decisive offensive operations are now being contemplated and planned.”

Harry chimed in from the side. “I’ll send that at once, sir. I’m sure the announcement will not only prevent any confusion regarding the former detainees but raise morale, as well.”

Heide nodded. “And would that settle the matter, do you think?” His tone—and complexion—had both returned to normal.

The six men in front of him nodded as Cap Peters said, “I think so, sir. Which means, I guess, that Ensign Cheung can erase the recording now—sir.”

Marina Cheung mouthed “Thank God” and did so. Heide saluted his troops. “You are dismissed. Report to me when you locate the detainees. That is top priority.”

Cap Peters followed the others in returning the salute and affirmed, “Will do, sir.”

And, with the negotiations concluded and Heide’s command intact but constrained, the six Marines filed out and prepared to start breathing normally once again.

* * *

Jennifer Peitchkov rubbed her arms to get the chill out of them and dispel the unsightly goose bumps she didn’t want Sandro to see: the access passages for the subterranean base’s embedded sump pumps had been damp and cold. But they had been perfect for the purpose of hiding the detainees. With the base on the coast, and the flood table high, the labyrinthine network of runoff pipes, filtration and collection traps, overflow tanks, and interconnecting maintenance shafts and service crawlways had offered absolute concealment.

She looked from Tank to Cap Peters. “And Heide bought it—all of it?”

Cap shrugged. “Hard to tell. And it’s hard to tell what he’ll do in the aftermath.”

Jennifer rubbed her arms vigorously, angrily. “Yeah, well, I guess that’s partly up to me.”

Sandro stroked her gooseflesh. She wanted to flinch and crawl away; he evidently didn’t even notice the Braille epic that was pushing up through her skin. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I suppose the more helpful I—and the rest of the former detainees—turn out to be, the happier he’ll be, and the more he’ll feel like he got what he wanted and that his itty-bitty officer manhood has been left uncastrated.”

Cap winced but said nothing; Chong looked away politely; Danilenko’s sudden grin went from ear to ear. But Sandro simply eased closer and took both her hands in his great, red-furred paws. “Jen,” he said softly, “I know you don’t like Heide—God knows I don’t, either. And I know you feel that the Arduans deserve better from you than helping to plot an attack against them. But right now, that’s the price of your freedom, and Zander’s, too. And don’t forget—you can’t change things sitting in a jail cell, an object of suspicion. Sometimes you have to be a part of the system, to work inside and with the system, in order to change it.”

At those words, Jen leaned far back to look Sandro full in the face. “Alessandro, is this really you? Are you a duplicate? Or has Heide finally gotten to you with all his charm and smooth talk?”

“Huh? What?”

“Tank, did you just hear yourself? Are you really
you
?”

“Why?”

Jen smiled, drew her hands out of Sandro’s, and placed one long, thin palm on either side of his irremediably hairy face. “Tank McGee tells me to ‘work inside the system to change the system’?
You?
Saying
that
? You don’t hear a little change there?”

Sandro looked away, looked sheepish. Standing to the other side, Cap Peters smiled down with palpably avuncular pride. Sandro let a small smile escape. “I guess that’s probably not how I’d have reacted a year ago.”

“Or a month ago, Lieutenant.” Cap slapped him on one immense shoulder, and his eyes twinkled. “It’s always gratifying to see a full-grown man grow up.”

“Hey!”

But Jen laughed, and Sandro’s smile widened. Chong had allowed himself a small, constrained, upward crinkle of his lips, but that was already fading. “This is a good outcome. But we’ve still got plenty of challenges.”

Roon nodded. “Yeah.” He looked at Jen. “Most of the junior NCOs are still on the fence about you and the detainees—but when Heide took your child hostage to secure your good behavior, the general feeling seems to be that he went too far. But that isn’t because they support your view of the Baldies—they don’t. It’s because they couldn’t stand Heide’s implicit threat to a civilian, and worse yet a baby, to compel your cooperation.”

Kapinski nodded. “Rule one amongst us grunts—a CO can yell at us, cuss at us, even whack at us. But if a CO resorts to blackmail, he’s finished. Period.”

Chong nodded. “Perhaps…but there’s still rumbling and unrest in the rank and file over your loyalties, Jen. They still don’t understand—or believe—the nature of the interaction the detainees had with the moderate elements of the Arduan leadership. And Heide can—and will increasingly—use that suspicion and fear to maintain his position.”

Kapinski made a sour face. “So, what are you saying, Lieutenant? That we shouldn’t have pulled Heide up short?”

Chong shook his head. “No. That had to be done. And not just to save Ms. Peitchkov’s life, but to save our morale and cohesion as a fighting force. A set of treason tribunals would have had the exact opposite effect that Heide was hypothesizing. The division of opinion would have been a mortal blow to the Resistance, as we all debated and disputed whether it was conscionable, let alone right, to levy such charges against civilians who had been taken and held against their will. It had gone too far, and the officers and NCOs knew it had to end. And this way, Heide still gets to say he’s in charge.”

“
Da
,” affirmed Danilenko grimly, “and as long as the rank and file believe he is, he is.”

Cap Peters nodded. “There’s truth to that, Igor. But Heide also knows now that we can—and we will—check him if he goes too far.”

“Yeah,” Kelakos agreed with a sigh, “which also means he’s watching us now. All of us.”

Sandro shrugged, returned his eyes to Jen. “That couldn’t be helped.”

Jen looked into Sandro’s eyes while speaking to all of her rescuers—all save the absent Harry Li, who was still trapped with the Hider and suffering through God-only-knew what kind of vituperative, or utterly silent, passive-aggressive bullshit and abuse. “Getting Heide to drop the treason charges—that isn’t really a win. It’s a trade, a negotiation. My life, and the lives of the other detainees, in exchange for action, some kind of action that Heide—and an awful lot of you, too—want.”

Sandro nodded, but said, as the others discreetly exited, “Hey, you’re alive—and you’re going to stay that way, Jen. And for me, that’s a win. Hell, it’s the only win that matters.”

And seeing Sandro’s eyes so wide and innocent and guileless and full of her—nothing but her—Jen could not help smiling, throwing her arms around his neck, and whispering in his ear, “I love you. Damn it. I love you.”

24

How Sleep the Brave

How sleep the brave, who sink to rest
By all their country’s wishes blest!
—Collins

TRNS
Lancelot
, Allied Fleet, Demeter System

Entering the Demeter system, Ian Trevayne was not as surprised as he knew he ought to be to find it completely undefended.

Not after what they had found at Hera.

The results of the entry into Hera should have been a relief, but in fact it had been an anticlimactic letdown. Li Han had refused to move until her savaged fleet train had built up a stock of SBMHAWKs that could burn a path through those defenders. Finally, Trevayne and Li Magda had taken the vanguard into Hera in the wake of that death storm, only to discover wreckage. Analysis had revealed the truth. Hera had been held by twenty heavy superdreadnoughts and a swarm of fighters, whose function had been to gobble up recon drones and create the illusion of a strongly defended warp point. In short, the Baldies had been buying time. At the cost of what was, by their standards, a token force, they had bought it rather cheaply.

It was a purchase that Li Han was resolved not to let them repeat. She had ordered Trevayne through the Demeter warp point after only the most perfunctory probing by recon drones. For a moment, it had been as though Li Han’s “wild ride” had resumed.