Freehold (3 page)

Jelsie was sprawled in a chair, watching a news load. "You're on vid again," she said. "What evidence are they basing all this on?"

"I belong to the same unit as those responsible. And I deal with logistics," Kendra quipped.

"I can see that. You have a felon's eyes. I'm about to shower. My orders are to keep you secure. You can sit in here and we'll talk through the door while I do, but I have to cuff you to the doorknob. Otherwise, I lock you in a guest room and come back for you. Sorry, but that's as much leeway as I have."

"I guess so," Kendra replied. The Freeholders apparently took security a lot more seriously than the UN forces. Romar ordered her to sit in the corner and to not move without permission. The cuff was firm on her wrist and she said so.

"It'll loosen up with wear," Romar joked with a friendly grin, but loosened it slightly.

Kendra watched as her guard stripped and headed into the bathroom, an action reinforcing that nudity was a casual thing for her. Romar's skin was flawless, hairless except for the flaming waves on her head and matching eyebrows, and rippled with heavy muscles. Kendra asked, and found out that she spent almost three hours a day in the gym. She also recalled that their gravity was a bit more vigorous than Earth's. Remembering a brief encounter with the Freehold 3rd Mobile Assault Regiment's staff on Mtali, Kendra decided she never wanted to fight with them. They seemed to regard their military service as a religious duty. Romar even kept a pistol with her in the shower. "I know you won't try to escape, considering your circumstances," Romar's shout echoed from the tiled room as she lathered her rich red hair, leaning out of the stall to make eye contact. "But I'd look pretty stupid if you got away. It's a rough duty model anyway."

Kendra was shown to a dining hall that was again small but luxurious. She grabbed some sandwiches and a bowl of soup, which she found too spicy. The sandwiches had a lot of mustard and peppercorns, but she found them manageable. Once she got past the heat, they were actually quite tasty.

Jelsie showed her around briefly. The compound had a gym, small theater and a day room that included a decent-sized pool and a long, rectangular hot tub, which held an older man and an Asian woman and had room for several more. They waved at Romar in passing and resumed talking and drinking. "I'm off duty now," Romar told her, "except for my responsibility regarding you. If you don't mind, I'm suggesting a plunge."

"I don't mind," Kendra said. "I'll just sit and watch vid."

"Why? You're welcome to join us."

"I don't have anything to wear."

"Sorry. That's a problem here, isn't it?" Jelsie said, peeling out of her uniform. "Well, if you change your mind, feel free. Sit on that side," she gestured, "so I have you in plain sight."

Kendra watched vid halfheartedly. More people wandered in and part of her mind deduced it was a shift change of some kind. They looked over and saw the depression emanating from her, but decided not to interfere. She was grateful for their discretion, but made no outward sign. Being properly morose took work.

Ten minutes later, her face was flashed on the screen. At least it wasn't mainstream news, only a specialty channel on political matters. Hopefully her parents wouldn't see this immediately. The announcer gave a fairly accurate description up to the point where he claimed she was armed and dangerous and had overpowered Sergeant Janie Woods, then attempted to run over Sergeant Tom Anderson as she fled the base "Just seconds ahead of the Military Police." Kendra snapped it off viciously and strode over to the tub, which now held six. She snatched off her tunic, almost ripping it, and jumped in in her underwear. The water was scalding, and shocked her out of her daze.

"You okay?" Jelsie asked, looking concerned.

"No." After a few seconds of silence, Kendra continued, "I'm supposed to have attacked two of my friends as I left. They're probably being interrogated."

"Goddess. That's a pretty slimy trick to pull."

"This isn't going to work," Kendra said, shaking her head sadly. "I need to go back. If they have Tom, it means either they retrieved the phone call or they think it suspicious that I got out when I did. And Janie didn't do anything. They might wind up dead because of me."

"You won't change that by going back," an older man said. Kendra recognized him as one of the two who'd been here when she and Jelsie arrived. She looked at him in curiosity.

"Walter Andropolous," he introduced himself. He was about forty, very lean with near black skin and had a wire braided through the entire length of his left ear. "I'm the intelligence analyst here and I used to be in military intelligence. If they have your friends, it's to make you come back. You do and they'll rope them in too. If you stay, they have nothing to go on and might let them go."

"Do you know what they do to people when they interrogate them?" Kendra asked, teary-eyed.

"In disgusting detail," Andropolous assured her. "And you won't help them by going back. Your friend Tom risked his life to cover for you, presumably because he believes you're innocent. Your coming here took an equal amount of guts. If you skip, you'll be wasting both of you, because it'll be assumed you're guilty, and I know how your investigators will proceed with that assumption. The best thing for you to do is have a drink," he suggested while handing her a glass, "and display some more of that courage by not wasting your friends' sacrifices."

Kendra gulped at the glass as Jelsie placed a hand on her shoulder.

Three hours later, soddenly drunk, Kendra was helped out of the pool by Andropolous and Romar. They assembled her clothes and half carried her to an elevator. Kendra allowed herself to be led into a small suite. The other two put her on the bed, then took seats across the room.

Kendra woke bleary eyed and glanced at the clock. It gave both Freehold and Earth time, claiming it was 0430. At twenty-five, she was barely old enough to drink and had never had a hangover before. She decided that everything she'd heard about them was hype and propaganda designed to entice people. Her head
hurt.
So did her stomach. Things were spinning very eerily.

Jelsie looked up from the screen she was reading, came over and handed Kendra an effervescent glass of orange stuff. "Drink this," she said.

"Thank you, no," Kendra replied. "I just want to lie here and regret it."

"It wasn't a request," Jelsie insisted, hoisting her upright with one hand. The room spun again and Kendra decided to comply. It tasted okay and did seem to settle her stomach.

"Didn't you sleep?" Kendra asked, her brain finally starting to track.

"No. I didn't want to lock you in and leave you alone, so I stayed. That requires me to leave my hardware outside and cuff you to the bed or stay awake. I prefer to stay awake."

"You didn't have to do that for me," Kendra said. These people were strange. Compassionate and warmly friendly, but utterly unforgiving in their security.

"I know." Jelsie sat back down and asked, "Feeling better?"

"A little," Kendra agreed. Her memory was starting to fill in some gaps. Remembering some snippets of conversation, she asked, "Was whatsisname interrogating me last night?"

Considering for a moment, Jelsie said, "I don't think it's a security breach to say 'yes.' "

"And what did he find out?" Kendra prodded.

"I have no idea. Obviously he doesn't think you're a spy or you wouldn't have woken up," Jelsie explained.

"That's a pretty cold-blooded trick," Kendra commented.

"Yes," Jelsie nodded. "We could have done what the UN agents do and tied you to a chair, beaten you senseless, injected you with drugs and left you in a flophouse afterwards."

Kendra winced as she thought about Janie and Tom.

"Sorry," Jelsie said, sounding very sincere.

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."

—Anatole France

Kendra was in the embassy ten days, slowly going insane. She played interface games until disoriented from the feedback, found herself unable to concentrate on vid or books and got angry at the tedium of doing nothing. After three days, she spent some money she couldn't spare to have one of the Freehold technicians hook up a phone patch with a shift for her voice. He assured her it was untraceable and she decided it must be; the embassy didn't need the complications it would bring if her presence were discovered.

Her parents' lines had to be monitored, so there was no way to call them. She tried Janie's personal number first. No answer. Her own duty number was answered by Lieutenant Moy. Kendra disconnected without a sound. She called Tom's personal line.

"Hello?" she heard a harsh, unkind voice ask. It was not Tom's voice. She mumbled and disconnected. She realized now that she had, in fact, burned all her bridges.

On the seventh day, Kendra was taken to see Ambassador Maartens again. This time, Jelsie acted more like an escort than a guard. She left Kendra at the door and departed with a smile and nod. Inside the ambassador's office she was invited to sit down and Maartens said, "If you are still serious, we can have you out of here in three days."

"I am," Kendra said. Everything suddenly took on an icy clarity. She realized she wouldn't see Earth again for a long time, if ever.

"Okay. Here's how it looks. One of our less reputable personnel, coincidentally from logistics," Maartens said with an ironic smile, "managed to part out your car for about ten thousand. You have slightly less than a thousand in cash. The staff threatened me with mutiny if I charged you for your stay here, which we ordinarily do, so there's no boarding bill. They also took up a collection of fifteen hundred. I don't know how you feel about charity, but I advise you to take it. Our chief of security was extremely impressed by the courage you displayed and the speed with which you acted. In his opinion, you probably would have been snatched the next time you stopped for any purchase. He passed the hat for you himself. From sources I am not at liberty to discuss, there is a grant of four thousand available. So, you have roughly sixteen-five in assets.

"Now, there's a Freehold registry commercial transport departing in three days. It's an Earth crew, but the ship is registered out of Station Ceileidh in Freehold space because we have less bureaucracy. The crew doesn't know who you are and might try to turn you in for the reward if they ID you. We'll get you aboard and manage the adminwork.

"After that, you are going to pretend to be sick for twelve days. Your meals will be delivered and you'll stay in your cabin. That's not too unusual; lots of travelers do that, anyway. We'll also give you additional cover. Once in Freehold space, you're safe. You'll be met at Station Ceileidh and transferred insystem.

"Transit fee is fifty thousand. Residency fee for planetside is five hundred. I believe your best chances are in Jefferson. Local residency fee there is one hundred. That's fifty thousand, six hundred total. You need thirty-four-four."

"I don't have it," Kendra said with a grin as a façade.

"Of course not," Maartens agreed. Her expression was not discouraging and it was clear she had an idea. She continued, "So the problem is raising it. Which is no problem at all. Now, let me explain this before you say anything.

"We have a system known as indenturing, but it's not the historical system you may be thinking of. A Citizen will be assigned to your case, and you pay a fee to the government for his service. He will arrange for you to find employment and a payment will be deducted from your wages. You are free to change jobs or make other arrangements for payment. You are responsible for your own lodging and food, so you are not going to be assuming a spiraling debt. I'm sure you'll have no trouble locating work in a city like Jefferson."

It took Kendra a few moments to sort through the statement. She was only peripherally aware from her schooling that indenturing had existed, but its context was clear. The rest was plain enough after some thought.

"I don't have a lot of other options, do I?" she asked rhetorically.

"No, not really," Maartens said. "But you've come this far. Otherwise, we'll give you your assets and slip you out the gate late tonight. Your presence is potentially very embarrassing to us."

"I'm sorry to be a burden."

"Has anyone complained? Look, lady," Maartens said, her face softening, "You are about to enter a system that's totally out of your experience. It's bound to be a shock. We're trying to be honest and give you as much help as we can. If you're willing, we'll get you to a new home. If not, we need to protect ourselves."

"Well," Kendra said, "I came here to get away, so I suppose I should finish the job."

Nodding, Maartens said, "I'll get to work."

The vertol was sitting on the roof of the main embassy building. Standing near it, Kendra was seeing the suburbs of Washington from a completely different angle. There were still a few details to take care of, so she took the chance to look around. The old city really was pretty, especially when seen through the murky morning haze.

"Hey!" Kendra head the yell subliminally over the howl of the aircraft and turned to see Jelsie come up the stairs. She waved. A few seconds later, the two of them were hunched over, trying to hear over the whipping wind and the roar of turbines.

"You need some candy money," Jelsie said, handing her a palm-sized folder of Freehold currency.

Kendra pushed it away. "Thanks, but I can't take any more. You've been so generous already."

Jelsie grabbed her with powerful arms, stuffed the money into her chest pocket and said, "Then take it as a 'thank you' for not making me shoot you. You've got a great attitude for back home. You'll be fine. I'll be back in about a year and I plan to look you up. Pay me then, if you wish."

Smiling, Kendra said, "I'll do that. Thanks again."

"Sure. You owe me. We have a saying in Freehold Military Forces. 'Friends help you move. Real
friends help you move
bodies.
' Next time I have a mysterious corpse, I'll be calling."