Indomitable (17 page)

“Where's the little red button?” Promise's Marines fanned out around the room. The gunny and Private Atumbi took positions at the mouth of the stairwell to cover their six.

“I don't know how you got in here, Lieutenant Paen, and it doesn't matter. The game is over. You're nothing but a cheat.”

“Lieutenant Cahill, like it or not I have my orders. This installation is now under my control. You are hereby relieved of command. Please surrender your minicomp and to Sergeant Morris, and stand down.”

“How did you get into my mountain? You, you're…” The lieutenant's ears were noticeably flushed. “You're not supposed to be here.
You,
” he said, pointing at Promise, “were ordered back to CENT-MOBCOM by General Granby. I heard her give the order myself.”

“Why don't you play it back to be sure you heard right,” Promise suggested.

“I will.”

The lieutenant stomped to the center workstation. His hands danced across a flatscreen. Above it a segmented holoscreen appeared and several tiers of date stamps blossomed on the right panel, in bold colors. He scanned down the first tier of dates and returned to the top of the second. He was halfway down it when he stopped. “Ah-ha, here it is.” The lieutenant stabbed the date stamp with his pointer finger, dragged it to the left panel, and spread his fingers wide. General Granby's voice instantly filled the room.

“Victor Company has suffered crippling casualties in today's exercise and has been asked to return to base. We won't reset the op for at least an hour. Why don't you stand down the mountain and get something to eat.”

*   *   *

The lance corporal spoke
next.
“Aye, aye, ma'am. That's too bad. We were looking forward to squaring off against Lieutenant Paen. After what she did to the Lusies on Montana, well, we thought this one might get interesting.”

Again, Granby spoke.
“Me too, Lance Corporal. But, we all have our off days. Lieutenant Paen is no different. She'll just have to try again, perhaps sooner than later, mmm? I hope it's the former. I will leave you to it, then.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“General Granby, out.”

Lieutenant Cahill turned around, looking vindicated. “What do you have to say for yourself now, Lieutenant Paen?”

“Is this what the academy is churning out these days?” Sergeant Morris nudged the lieutenant's shoulder with the business end of his rifle.

“Careful, Sergeant, or I'll have you on charges of insubordination and assaulting an officer.”

Promise shook her head at Sergeant Morris, and raised a hand for him to back off before she returned her attention to Cahill.

“Lieutenant, bear in mind that you're a POW for the duration of this exercise.”

“An exercise that
you're
carrying out against orders!”

Sergeant Morris raised his weapon. “Sir, your minicomp or your wrists. Your choice?”

“I will not stand down, Sergeant. As you just heard, you were ordered back to HQ by the general. I'll see you busted down to corporal for this.”

“Lieutenant,” Promise said as patiently as she could. “The general never
ordered
me to do anything. All she did was
ask.
I asked to continue the mission, and the general approved my request. That is not on your recording. You may comm her personally to confirm its truth. I'd replay the conversation for you myself. Except I can't seem to reach my AI at the moment. Nevertheless, we just heard what she said to your controller and she couldn't have been clearer. Play it again. Please. Because you are so adept at following orders, I believe you will be able to clearly discern the nature of the general's.”

During the replay, Cahill's jaw clenched. He turned back to look at Promise. “You're arguing a technicality.”

“Words matter, Lieutenant. In fact, the First Directive specifically mentions this fact. Lieutenant, do you remember the First?”

The lieutenant crossed his arms. “Don't mock me.”

“Sergeant Morris, if you please.”

The sergeant cleared his throat. “‘A Marine never lies to a superior or violates his word. If he does, he betrays the Corps, his fellow Marines, and himself. A Marine's word is her bond. What she thinks she says. What she says she does. What she does defines her.'”

“Sergeant, relieve the lieutenant of his minicomp. Kathy, tie him up. You are authorized to use appropriate force if he resists you.”

“You have no right.” Cahill looked ready to lunge at Promise. “Lieutenant, I will have you up on charges, all of you. Do you hear me?”

“And shut him up too.”

Promise walked up to Cahill and pushed his chair out of the way, with him still in it. He lunged for her sidearm but was a microsecond too slow. Morris grabbed the lieutenant's hand, bent it backward, and brought the man to his knees.

It took Promise a moment to find the main comm. Her words echoed across the floors and lifts, the offices and mess hall of Mount Bane, causing tables of Sailors, Marines, and civvies to pause in midchew. “This is Lieutenant Promise Paen of Victor Company, Charlie Battalion, Fifth Brigade, Twelfth Regiment. Roughly one hour ago, my unit assaulted this installation and was presumed neutralized. Obviously, V Company is alive and well. We have secured this installation and the control room. Lieutenant Cahill was ordered to stand down and chose to resist instead. After an unfortunate tussle, we regret to inform you he is now in our custody and care. If I understand the mission brief correctly, upon entering the control room the attacking force may claim the victory by pressing the little red button.” Promise lifted the clear plexi lid and pressed the red button. The room went dark for a moment. “This exercise is over. Enjoy your breakfast. Lieutenant Paen, out.”

*   *   *

The ANDES standing in
the corner of the room was used to being ignored. Second-gen, Mercury-class-B12 android enemy soldiers hadn't been used for years. Spare parts were impossible to find. This particular Mercury was missing armor plating on the right chin and thigh, probably removed years ago with the weapons systems. The faceplate was cracked, the lower abdomen open to air. Abandoned and long forgotten, no doubt, except for the bits of dried carbonscreen someone had stuffed into its bowels. And, in spite of the regs against naming ANDES, the Mercury's name tab said
JOE BREAKDOWN.

Breakdown happened to be an amnesiac. It knew to answer to its proper name and the shortened version of it—Down. “Get Down to do it” was commonly heard in the main control room, after one of the bars had issued an order that the stripes didn't particularly care for. Like refilling the caf or trudging down to the utility closet for spare sani because the head had run out.

Earlier that morning, when Promise transmitted the stand-down codes, Breakdown had responded like the other ANDES. Except it encountered a problem. After decommissioning, the ANDES's combat matrix had been wiped and its memory links severed. This meant Breakdown didn't know what to stand down from. When it sought clarification, it ran a diagnostic and found the problem. A small, long-forgotten reserve of nanites restored the ANDES's connections to its backups, at roughly the same time that Sergeant Morris subdued Lieutenant Cahill, the lieutenant of the watch.

It was then that Breakdown remembered its original programming, and it responded as it had originally been designed to do. With lethal force.

Sergeant Morris didn't see the sentinel turn toward him and draw back its fist.

The ANDES looked down at Morris, now crumpled on the floor, blood gushing from his head.

An unidentified woman dressed in beegees threw herself over Morris's body. Her screams echoed across the control-room floor.

“Medic!”

 

Twenty

MAY 6
TH
, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 0823 HOURS

REPUBLIC OF ALIGNED WORLDS PLANETARY CAPITAL—HOLD

RAW SENATE BUILDING

I wish they would
back off.
Promise batted another hovercam out of her way. “No comment.” The newsies were everywhere. Warm bodies and mechs, pressing in from all directions.

“A statement. Just a word, ma'am, please.”

I'll give you a word.
Promise wanted to shoot the hovercams out of the Senate rafters, and if she'd had her pulse rifle with her the temptation might have been overwhelming. She was barely halfway down the main aisle of the Senate floor and far short of the brick-red carpet the newsies had to stay off of. Red like a sea of blood. Sharks patrolled the waters and she didn't dare show fear or they'd smell it and eat her alive. Overhead a swarm of hovercams clicked and jockeyed for the best aerial position as flashes of light burst from the sky. Logos for TransWorld News and Universal News Corp. and the
Hawk
. The noise and the barrage of light were stretching her thin. One of the hovercams got too close. Boom. The flash temporarily blinded her, and triggered a memory she'd worked hard to lock down. She saw the ghost of a Marine jumping on a grenade meant for her. Boom. Another specter came, a downed Marine near death, mechsuit crushed, autodestruct enabled in a final act of defiance. Boom. She was standing in a sea of decaying corpses. Then they started to rise and claw at her legs. She swore she could feel a bony hand tearing at her calf.
It's not real, P. None of it is.
Boom. “Just a word, ma'am.” Boom.
Get a grip, Marine.
Boom. The room began to spin.

“All right, all right! Leave the lieutenant alone.” A striking woman with jet-black hair and high cheekbones pushed through the newsies and put her arm around Promise. Several men in tailored suits followed close behind her, and then spread out to form a human wall. “There will be time enough to interview the lieutenant … after her testimony.”

“There will be?”

“Of course, Lieutenant. Here, drink this. You don't get to come to the mountain without paying the price. Senator Terra Jang, at your service.” Jang was older than Promise but not by enough to be her mother, and her tailoring was exquisite. “Now, let's get you to your chair. Everyone, please step aside. Now!” Jang barked like a gunnery sergeant in a sea of privates. “Better. Thank you all. I will be holding my own press conference after the hearing and you are all invited. Drinks and hors d'oeuvres will be served.”

“Thank you, Senator,” Promise said as she wiped her brow.

The flashes and clicks and “over here, ma'am”s retreated to a manageable distance. Promise stepped onto the red carpet and took a deep breath, felt her senses return and with them her better judgment.
Never fully trust a senator, particularly one you don't know a stitch about.

“Ah, here we are.” Jang motioned to a long rectangular table. Each end had its own small touch screen and a pickup. In the middle sat a tray with water and drinking glasses. “You're going to do splendidly. Orphans like us must stick together.” Said like it was a badge of pride. “You've got more than one senator in your corner. Okay?”

Promise's eyes narrowed as she considered Jang's revelation, and took her seat.
Interesting.
Jang nodded. “Our stories matter, Promise. It's up to us to make sure they get told. Don't hold back, ever. We will talk later. Plan on it.”

We will?
The noise level on the Senate floor had grown so loud that Promise couldn't hear herself think. She turned in her chair and saw hundreds of unfamiliar people; dozens were staring at her.
Looks like a full house.
Maxi and Kathy were in the balcony somewhere, which looked just as packed. Promise was about to give up on them when she saw a white flag waving back and forth from the third row back.
Very funny.
Maxi and Kathy were dressed like she was. Regular-dress blues, standard glittery and ribbons. She desperately needed a familiar face, even if theirs were too far away to make out.

A moment later, a young woman in a smartly pressed suit approached from Promise's right side. “Lieutenant Paen, I'm Valentine Aliri. Senator Jang asked me to check on you. Is there anything you need?”

Need?
Promise's shell shock must have been apparent. Aliri smiled. “Don't worry, ma'am. It's your first time. Here.” Aliri leaned forward and activated the screen on the table in front of her. A holographic window opened above it, at a comfortable reading level. Promise's statement appeared a moment later in large script.

“Don't worry about them—” Aliri looked over her shoulder, nodded to the wall of newsies and hovercams, and then looked back at Promise's speech. “Only you can see it. Feel free to edit on the fly. If you lean to the side it disappears. See? Keeps the newsies from scooping your speech.”

“That's very useful,” Promise said.

Senator Terra Jang appeared in an adjacent window and briefly made eye contact with Promise. Below Jang a file appeared with the names and party affiliations of senators she was about to testify before. All very useful.

“Thank you,” Promise murmured. “My mind's gone to mush. I've been trying to keep all the names straight. Ms. Aliri, thank you for your assistance, and please thank the senator for me too.”

“My pleasure. And please call me Val. The senator likes to keep things on a first-name basis. Do you need anything else, ma'am?”

“No, I'm fine, I think. And please call me Promise.”

“If I may, Promise, breathe in through your nose. It will help.”

“Like a runner. I should know that.”

“Exactly.” Val looked up as someone shouted her name. “This place can get to you if you let it. So don't.”

“Roger, that.”

Promise turned her attention to the holoscreen and Senator Jang's dossier. She quickly scanned it and then swiped it aside. Keyed a file and quickly discarded it, and then another. Movement on the Senate platform drew her attention. A few senators had already found their seats. There was Senator Jang taking the steps now. Jang's seat was off to the side, which made sense, Promise thought, given Jang's junior status on the Homeworlds Alliance Committee. Promise returned to the dossier and dug a bit further. One of Jang's op-eds caught her eye.