Stark's Command (37 page)

"How'd you find out?"

"Stein kept flapping his lips after the MPs pulled him out of the room. He didn't believe you."

"No. He wouldn't. But I did love her. In a way. Never told her. Probably never would have."

Vic managed a sad smile. "She knew anyway."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Because I'm a woman, and men are never as good at hiding stuff as they think. So, Ethan, you've spent all the years since Patterson's Knoll proving you would have been good enough for her?"

"That's never what it was about," Stark objected. "Yeah, I've fought as hard as I can to make sure nobody else has to die like she did, but that's 'cause it was right. Nobody deserves to die like she and the other soldiers in my outfit did. Nobody. It's not about me."

"Then you done good, Ethan."

"And now all I have to do is condemn Kate's brother to death."

"Look, Ethan, what would you do if it was anyone else?"

"You mean like you? Or Gomez or Murphy?"

"You're avoiding the issue. They wouldn't betray you and everyone else." Stark sat silent. "Ethan, the only soldiers up here who didn't want Grant Stein sentenced to death by a court-martial were the ones who wanted him shot without bothering with a trial. He stuck a knife in the backs of his fellow soldiers. If I ever sunk low enough to do that, I'd want you to shoot me. Trust in each other is damn near all we've got, and it's been just about all we've had for a long time."

"Vic, are you trying to make me do this? Make me blame you for forcing my hand?"

"If I have to. I don't want it that way, but it's got to be done."

"You don't." Stark left the enigmatic reply hanging in the air for a moment, then leaned forward to key in his code at the command terminal, calling up the report from the General Court-Martial. Staring at the screen for a long moment, he finally punched the Send key so viciously the terminal shook as if in protest.
Forgive me, Kate.
"It's done. I confirmed the sentence."

"I'm sorry, Ethan. If there's anything—"

"There isn't."

"Want to go somewhere?"

"No. No. Not this time. Just leave me alone for a while, okay?"

"Okay." She left, the new door sliding silently shut in her wake, its clean metal standing out against the scarred wood on either side.

What have I done? What'd the soldier say in my dream? Where's our commander. Stuck on the Knoll, no way out, doomed. Is that what I've done to all the people who've trusted me? Hung 'em out to dry, stuck on a big rock with everyone targeting them? Even their former fellow soldiers? And now the civs up here are talking about declaring independence. That'd mean a long, full-scale war for sure. Just when we're starting to see some good things happen. Soldiers trusting their commanders. Civs and mil connecting like they're part of the same system. We could build something real good here. Show people back on the World how it should be. If we get a chance.

How are we—how am I—going to get us out of this? And how many people am I going to have to kill and watch die in the process?

Stark sat in the dimmed room, gazing emptily at the silent displays all around, displays that spoke of his power. Power of life and death. Somewhere outside, far from where the displays could monitor them, armies gathered. They would leave mankind's green home with its white clouds and blue water, and they would come to this place, this desolate Moon where black shadow met white light against dead gray rocks and dust, and they would die here.

Unless Sergeant Ethan Stark could think of something else.

The United States military forces on the moon have overthrown their high-ranking officers and placed Sergeant Ethan Stark in command. Instead of just issuing orders, Stark confides in his fellow sergeants in hopes of forging an army based on mutual respect. Now, in addition to fighting a merciless enemy on the moon's surface, Stark must contend with the U.S. government's reaction to his mutiny . . . .

The moon's American civilian colony has offered to assist the military with food and supplies on one condition: that Stark's troops back the colony's plea for independence. In order to survive, civilian and soldier must learn to trust each other as one man's cause becomes a crusade . . . .