The Human Division #8: The Sound of Rebellion (3 page)

“I have good ears,” Lee said.

Six had nothing to say to that or anything else.

Lee grabbed the shotgun, checked the load and then moved quickly to position herself by the door. Less than twenty seconds later, the door burst open and a man came through, sidearm at the ready. Lee dropped him with a shot in the abdomen and then pivoted to get a second man in the doorway square in the chest. She dropped the spent shotgun, picked up the sidearm, checked the clip and went through the door.

There was a hallway with another doorway five meters down. Lee grabbed the second dead man, dragged him down the hallway with her, kicked open the door and hurled the corpse through. She waited until the second shotgun report and then walked in herself, sighting and hitting center mass the man still holding the shotgun. He went down. Lee resighted and aimed at the PDA sitting on a table, blowing it to pieces. She went into the room and looked at the chair to find Hughes, naked, restrained and understandably anxious.

“Private Hughes,” she said. “How are you?”

“Ready to get the
fuck
out of this chair, Lieutenant,” Hughes said.

Lee reached over to the table that held surgical instruments and then cut through Hughes’s bonds. Hughes pulled the blindfold over her head and looked at her naked lieutenant, blinking.

“This was not what I was expecting the first thing I would see to be,” Hughes said, to Lee.

“Knock it off,” Lee said, and pointed toward the corpse of the man she’d flung through the door. “Check him for a sidearm and let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hughes said, and moved to the corpse.

“What did this one call himself?” Lee said, pointing to the man who held the shotgun.

“One,” Hughes said. “But he never called himself it. I didn’t even know he was a he until right now. Someone calling himself Two called him that.” She found the sidearm, checked its load.

“Right,” Lee said. “I killed three more, including that one and one called Six. So that’s four dead and at least two still alive.”

“Are we going to wait around to meet them?” Hughes asked. “Because I’d prefer not.”

“We agree,” Lee said. “Come on.” They went to the door; Hughes took point. The two of them made their way back down the hall, toward the direction Lee had come from. Another door lay five meters past the door of her room; they opened it and found it empty except for a chair and a spray of gray matter and fluid on the bar floor.

“Jefferson,” Lee said. Hughes nodded, unhappy, and they continued onward.

A final door stood near a stairwell. The two banged through and found a small office with a PDA on a desk and very little else.

“This was Two’s room,” Lee said.

“Where did the son of a bitch get to?” Hughes asked

“I think I scared him off when I set a friend of his on fire,” Lee said. She picked up the PDA. “Watch the door,” she said to Hughes.

On the PDA were a series of video files of Lee, Hughes and Jefferson as well as other documents Lee didn’t bother with. She swiped past all of them to look for the PDA’s file system for a specific program. “Here it is,” she said, and pressed the button that appeared on the screen.

Lee’s BrainPal suddenly came alive with a long queue of increasingly urgent messages from her sergeant, her captain and the
Tubingen
itself.

Hughes, who apparently received a similar queue of urgent messages, smiled. “Nice to know we were missed.”

“Make sure they know where we are,” Lee said. “And make sure that if I tell them to, they’ll flatten this place into the ground.”

“You got it, ma’am,” Hughes said.

The two of them moved out of the office and went up the stairs, Lee taking the PDA with her and tucking it under an arm. The stairs emptied out into another short corridor that looked like a wing of a hotel. The two soldiers stalked through it carefully, turned a dogleg and were confronted by a closed door. Lee nodded to Hughes, who opened it and pushed through.

They came through the side of a lobby filled with lumpy-looking older people in ordinary clothing and very attractive younger people wearing almost nothing at all.

“Where the hell are we?” Hughes said.

Lee laughed. “Holy shit,” she said. “It
was
a brothel!”

The lobby quieted as the brothel workers and their potential clients got a look at Lee and Hughes.

“What?”
Hughes said, finally, not dropping her weapon. “You all act like you’ve never seen a naked woman before.”

“I don’t think I can tell this story again any differently than I’ve already told it the last three times, ma’am,” Lee said, to Colonel Liz Egan. Egan, as she understood it, was some sort of liaison for the State Department, which had taken considerable interest in her abduction and escape.

“I just need to know if there’s any additional detail you can give me regarding this Two person,” Egan said.

“No, ma’am,” Lee said. “I never saw him or heard him except as a heavily treated voice over that PDA. You have all the files I made, and you have all the files on the PDA I took. There really is nothing else I can tell you about him.”

“Her,” Egan said.

“Beg pardon, ma’am?” Lee said.

“Her,” Egan said. “We’re pretty sure Two was Elyssia Gorham, the manager of the Lotus Flower, that brothel you found yourselves in. The office you found the PDA in was hers, and she would be able to keep anyone out of the basement level you were in. The rooms the three of you were held in were private function rooms for clients who either liked rougher pleasures or wanted special event rooms which would be built up and torn down quickly. That also explains the signal blockers. The sort of people who would rent those rooms would want to be assured of their privacy. In all it made it a perfect place to stash the three of you.”

“Do we know who drugged us in the first place?” Lee asked.

“We tracked it down to the bartender at the
hofbräuhaus,
” Egan said. “He said he was offered a month’s salary to drop the drugs in your drink. He needed the money, apparently. It’s a good thing he has it, since now he’s been fired.”

“I didn’t think we could be drugged,” Lee said. “That’s supposed to be one of the benefits of SmartBlood.”

“You can’t be drugged with anything biological,” Egan said. “Whatever you were drugged with was designed with SmartBlood in mind. It’s something we’ll be needing to look out for in the future. It’s already been noted to CDF Research and Development.”

“Good,” Lee said.

“On the subject of SmartBlood, that was some good thinking on your part to incapacitate your captor,” Egan said. “The idea to map your surroundings with sound is also clear thinking. You’ve been recommended for commendation for both actions. No promotion, sorry.”

“Thank you, but I’m not really concerned about a commendation or a promotion,” Lee said. “I want to know more about the people who killed Jefferson. When they were interrogating me, they were asking me a lot of questions about what I knew about separatist movements and groups wanting to align their colonies with the Earth instead of the Colonial Union. I don’t know anything about that, but it got one of my people killed. I want to know more.”

“There’s nothing really to say,” Egan said. “These are strange times for the Colonial Union. We’re busy trying to bring the Earth back into the fold, and in the meantime our colonies are trying to deal with events as best as they can. There’s no organized separatist movement, and the Earth isn’t actively trying to recruit any colonies. As far as we can tell, these all are the works of isolated groups. The one here on Zhong Guo was just a bit more organized.”

“Ah,” Lee said. She knew when she was being lied to, but she also knew when not to say anything about it.

Egan stood, Lee rising to follow her. “In any event, Lieutenant, it’s nothing I want you to worry about right now. Your commendation comes with two weeks of shore leave at your leisure. May I suggest you take it someplace other than Zhong Guo. And that you stay out of
hofbräuhauses
for the time being.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lee said. “Good advice.” She saluted and watched Egan walk away. Then she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the ship around her.

JOHN SCALZI is the author of several SF novels including the bestselling
Old Man’s War
and its sequels, and the
New York Times
bestsellers
Fuzzy Nation
and
Redshirts.
He is a winner of science fiction’s John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer, and he won the Hugo Award for
Your Hate Mail Will Be Graded,
a collection of essays from his wildly popular blog
Whatever
(
whatever.scalzi.com
). He lives in Ohio with his wife and daughter.

The Human Division

John Scalzi’s stirring new novel in the universe of his bestselling
Old Man’s War

New e-episodes will appear every Tuesday from January 15 to April 9, 2013, on all your favorite e-book sites. Don’t miss a single one:

January 15:
The Human Division #1: The B-Team

January 22:
The Human Division #2: Walk the Plank

January 29:
The Human Division #3: We Only Need the Heads

February 5:
The Human Division #4: A Voice in the Wilderness

February 12:
The Human Division #5: Tales from the Clarke

February 19:
The Human Division #6: The Back Channel

February 26:
The Human Division #7: The Dog King

March 5:
The Human Division #8: The Sound of Rebellion

March 12:
The Human Division #9: The Observers

March 19:
The Human Division #10: This Must Be the Place

March 26:
The Human Division #11: A Problem of Proportion

April 2:
The Human Division #12: The Gentle Art of Cracking Heads

April 9:
The Human Division #13: Earth Below, Sky Above