The War for Profit Series Omnibus (30 page)

“Okay.” Chief Koa sat at the far left end of the front row of chairs and pushed a button on his remote. “This is the weather report for the next ten days. Clear and dry, not too hot, not too cold. Highs in the 20s and lows in the 15s. That’s Celsius, in case you were wondering. The weather here is controlled by the sky factories, and since this area of the planet is nearly uninhabited, they never bothered to send a lot of rain this way. But rain does come by accident, about twice a year for a couple of weeks. But not much.”

Koa brought up the next picture. It was a mountain capped by a collection of pipes and stacks and concrete buildings, with a row of a dozen stacks leaned at a 400 mil angle to the left, along the spine of the largest concrete building. A road wound around the mountain to its base, a town at the bottom, spreading outward onto the flat ground “Here we see a typical sky machine and the complex built around it, with a town of about two hundred thousand people. A highway system connects the twenty two sky factories that are located all around the surface, either side of the equator, none of them more than a thousand kilometers from the equator.”

“Impressive,” said Karen.

“Indeed.” Koa advanced to the next slide. It showed a cutaway graphic of a sky factory. “They are built on top of volcanoes, to provide the power and the basic gas materials needed to make air. There were originally twenty five factories, but over time, three of the volcanoes erupted and destroyed the factory and the town around it. The most recent disaster was three hundred and twenty six years ago.”

The next slide showed an overhead photo of a volcanic crater with lava and steam. The time stamp showed it was from three hundred and twenty six years ago. Koa continued, “The crater we are in is an ancient impact crater. The mountain in the center is the impact object itself. It hit, penetrated the crust, and then was pushed back up. The outer wall of the crater is sheer cliffs, and the floor of this crater is flat because over time, dust settled. The compacted dust is nearly thirty kilometers deep, to the original crater floor. The lake around the mountain formed when the dust was blown around and away from its base by high winds that didn’t stop until the sky factories had changed the atmosphere sufficiently to stabilize the atmosphere. And the rain that came has soaked into the dust and made it hard, and has filled in the lake.”

Koa flipped to the next picture. It showed the crater’s central mountain by itself. “This is almost entirely solid iron. There are traces of other metals of course, but mostly iron. Most of the material we remove from road building and tunnel boring will be used to construct the rest of the facilities on the mountain. We’ll cut the top off flat to have seventy hectares of useable land to emplace the EugeneX facilities, the permanent TOC, the command center and the space shield.”

Galen said, “Sounds like fun.”

“Well I’ve gotten a little off topic. Let’s get back to intelligence matters.” Koa flipped past a couple of pictures and showed a video taken from the sidewalk along an urban street. Houses lined each side, and motorized two and three wheeled vehicles drove along the street. A large four-wheeled cargo truck came to a stop and blocked the camera’s view. The next picture was of a city skyline in the distance. The tallest building was perhaps forty meters tall. Discernable in the background was a sky factory atop a mountain.

“For the most part these people present no organized threat to us. The biggest threat is the little one percent of criminal-minded people that all societies have, and curious explorers who want to know what we’re up to and then decide they don’t like what we’re doing. Really, nothing we can’t handle, and dealing with that sort of thing will let some of our less experienced troops cut their teeth with some low-risk live combat.”

Tad leaned forward in his chair. “That’s more my lane. Operations. I’ll decide who will deal with it and how.”

Koa said. “I’d assumed security would fall under intelligence.”

That’s one of the things Galen liked about military organization, the rank. Petty arguments were settled before they began. “Don’t take it personal, Koa. You’re doing a fine job. Continue.”

“Right, Sergeant Major.” Koa showed a picture of another city. “There is one community that presents a unique threat. Not military so much as moral. It could cost us our charter and we could forfeit our bond if we’re not careful. The people living around Air Factory seven.”

He showed a picture taken at street level from a moving vehicle. It then became a video, the view swinging slowly from left to right, the camera mounted on a moving vehicle. The hiss of a gas-turbine engine was barely audible in the background. The median strip of the wide street was covered with refuse, litter, and the occasional trunk of a battered, dead tree poked out of the mess. Along the sides, vacant lots full of junk and trash were nestled in between neglected buildings, many boarded up, graffiti, a store with an armored front with a tiny customer service window seemed to be selling snacks and there was a line of nervous customers lined up.

The vehicle had to slow down often and stopped occasionally to avoid hitting pedestrians who made a great show of their right to cross the street anywhere they wanted, moving slower to taunt the vehicle. A disturbingly high percentage of them actually slapped the hood of the vehicle, and others actually asked for handouts. Farther on, a gunshot was audible, and then a group of half a dozen young men ran right in front of the vehicle carrying a bleeding man by his wrists and ankles.

Then the sidewalk on the right side of a street corner was packed shoulder to shoulder with women ranging in age from twelve to fifty, in various states of provocative dress, not fit for public view. Some pulled up their tops to display their breasts, others cooed and cawed to entice the occupants of the moving vehicle to join them for a sexual encounter, which they described in great detail, shamelessly yelling. The crowd of women started to move to surround the vehicle. The vehicle ignored an obvious traffic signal to cross the intersection before the signal had changed.

Koa stopped the video and displayed a blank blue screen. “That was from about eight years ago, but I doubt things have changed since then. The community around Factory Sevin is a matriarchal bisexual enclave, dominated by family groups numbering about two to six hundred people in each, led by a Grandma figure. The Grandmas are loosely confederated into a poorly functioning feudal system. Gangs, really. The problem they present to us, their primary source of income is prostitution. Very young women, pre-pubescent girls as well, are first gang-raped, then abused by a crude training program and then are put on the streets as prostitutes. Many are trafficked around to the other cities, sold into brothels, that sort of thing. Slavery at its worst.”

Galen said, “If we let our troops get involved with that, the Brigade could lose its charter. The regulations of the Bonding Commission are quite clear. We will not support, knowingly or not, directly or indirectly, any sort of slavery, child prostitution, human trafficking… well, you all know the deal. Drinky Girls must be at least twenty one years of age, paid a fair salary, and free and unfettered of any obligation pertaining to sex. So we’ll avoid Factory Sevin and all it’s nonsense.”

Koa displayed a map on the flat screen. “The problem is, Sky Factory Sevin is the closest city to us, by a wide margin. It’s only twenty five clicks away from our proposed tunnel entrance. It’s also supposed to be our primary source for organic fuels and natural foods. The next nearest city is over four hundred clicks away.”

Galen thought for a moment and then said, “Where did you get all this info about the city around Sky Factory Seven?”

“Local news archives and court records.”

Galen slumped forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, and pressed his palms against either side of his head. “Crap.”

Galen and Karen exited the TOC together and walked toward where the commander’s hut was being built, located twenty meters directly behind the command tank. The hut’s concrete slab was already dry and the bottom rails of the hut’s angle iron were bolted to it. Trooper Parks and Corporal Slaughter were there along with the driver and gunner of Spike’s tank, working under the supervision of a Troop from the engineer platoon, using a guide on an electronic clipboard to direct the metal building’s assembly.

“What have we got here?” asked Galen.

The engineer said, “Super hooch, Sergeant Major. Living quarters for you, Sergeant Major Spike, and your tank crews on the second floor, reception area, conference room, office space, kitchen and bathrooms on the first floor.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Galen took off his helmet and combat vest and set them to the side.

“Sure, but you have to understand, while you’re working on this building, you’re working for me.”

“Roger. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Galen rubbed his hands together.

Karen said, “I’m going to check on my hooch.”

“I’ll miss you.” Galen winked.

She winked back then walked off.

“Okay, time for upright beams.” The engineer pointed at a stack of angle iron. “Two man lift. Sergeant Major, grab that bag of bolts and the power drill.”

“So week one is complete. The construction contractors from Mandarin will start arriving tomorrow.” Galen sat at the table in the conference room of the Commander’s Hut. It was a sturdy steel table, round, just like the ones in the dining facility. Tad and Spike sat to the left, Karen and Chief Koa to the right. Master Sergeant Sevin sat at the far end.

“Everything’s just peachy outside the crater,” said Sevin.

Karen said, “We’re ready to start on the tunnel. Projected completion time is nineteen days. Then we can lay the pipeline for delivery of organic fuel. The road made by the pipeline construction crew will serve as the transportation corridor for food delivery.”

Koa raised his hand.

“Speak,” said Galen.

“That city. We need to check it out.”

“How’s today sound?”

Koa said, “The sooner the better.”

Galen looked around the table. “Anyone here too busy to go?”

Spike said, “I have to stay here and do your job until you get back.”

“Oaky XO, you stay. Ops, you in or out?”

Tad said, “I can go. My section can do without me for a while.”

Karen said, “I’ll go. Chief Polar has things under control.”

Sevin smiled. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Galen stared into his eyes for a moment and nodded slowly. “All right. Just one more thing, since you mentioned worlds. EugeneX owns this entire planet. And I humbly announce that I am the highest representative of EugeneX on this planet until their people get here. The military governor, I suppose. Let’s go check out Factory Seven. Sevin, you have a ride for us?”

“A skimmer. It’s parked right out front. I’ll drive if you don’t mind standing behind the gun.”

“Mount up in twenty minutes, full gear.” Galen stood, the others stood and left the room.

***

The skimmer, a lightly armored, open-topped hovercraft, approached the wall of the crater. Sevin drove, Tad sat next to him, Karen and Koa sat in the seats behind them and Galen stood up behind the rapid-fire lightweight laser mounted on a swivel above the heads of the other passengers. He looked through the sights at maximum zoom and could make out the lift mechanism that had been used to get the vehicles of the mechanized battalion and reconnaissance company out of the crater. A thick cable hung from a crane, a steel cage suspended from it. As they approached, the cage lowered to the ground. Sevin drove the skimmer right into the open end of the cage and shut off the blowers. The vehicle settled on the solid steel plate of the cage’s bottom. After a moment, the cage started hauling them up.

Galen sat down and said, “Hey Sevin, how’d you get that crane up there?”

“On my back!” He tilted his head back and laughed. “No, really a team climbed the two hundred and twelve meter cliff wall. Then we attached the crane’s cable to their rope, and they hauled the rope up and anchored the cable. Then the crane lifted itself up. Notice at the top, to the right about fifty meters, we can just barely see it now.”

The team looked where Sevin pointed.

“That’s where we blasted away some of the crater rim with lasers, so the crane would have enough of a slope near the top to pull at an angle and then drive out of here.”

Tad said, “You are a freakin’ genius.”

“Thank you.” Sevin patted himself on the back.

The crane, a large vehicle with six tall tires on each side, swung the cage a quarter turn and sat it on the ground. Sevin backed the skimmer out of the cage and gave the crane operator a thumbs-up gesture. Then the skimmer sped off toward Factory Seven. After twenty klicks they met a defined dirt road and followed it. The Nav system didn’t show the road, but it did show they were going the right direction.

“Contact!” Tad’s voice.

Galen squeezed off a single laser bolt and looked through the sights. The red afterglow of the laser shot was dead-on with the targeting reticule. Good. Galen glanced around for targets. Up ahead on the road a civilian vehicle approached. Galen zoomed in and saw its flat front, its cab in front of a flat bed. It had four tires and it moved too slowly to kick up much dust. As an afterthought, he looked and noticed his laser shot’s impact was about fifty meters off the road to the truck’s right. Galen had mixed feelings about that. He was glad he hadn’t destroyed the vehicle and its occupant, but at the same time he realized his instincts were a little off. He was getting rusty.

Galen yelled, “Shut up, Tad!”

“Sorry. I just sort of reacted without thinking.”

As they passed the truck, which had stopped when the laser bolt landed near it, Sevin gave the driver a slow, deliberate, not at all friendly wave with his left hand. Tad continued to look forward. Galen studied the scruffy driver and noticed the poor state of repair of the truck. Rusty in places, brown spray paint over one repaired spot, black on another. The truck must have been red when it was new but its remaining oxidized paint was a dull, fuzzy orange. The cargo bed had several empty wire mesh cages, cubic meters and smaller, strapped down on it. Galen looked back and saw the truck continue on its way.

Galen said, “How’s that for a first impression.”

“Oh, they’re impressed,” said Karen. “He’ll tell everyone we’re ten meters tall and eat babies for breakfast. It’ll be in their news.”

Sevin looked over his shoulder. “I hope so.”

Galen traded places with Koa. Seated, he was able to read a guide to planetary laws on his noteputer. When he got to the part that, if strictly interpreted, said that he had the authority to make arrests anywhere on the planet and convene tribunals to adjudicate criminal offenses in accordance with common law and EugeneX policy, he marked it for easy reference. He looked ahead and saw a mid-sized city about ten klicks away. The factory complex topped a mountain that loomed up from behind the city.

The dirt road ended where it merged into a paved road, large flat stones fitted together by some sort of grouting material in the cracks. Not that it mattered to the skimmer. Sevin decreased the height and increased the speed. Soon the barren land was replaced with farm land. Crops grew on either side of the road.

“Stop here,” said Galen.

Sevin halted the vehicle and sidled it to the right side of the road, but maintained its hover. “What’s up?”

Galen undid his lap belt. “Set us down, I want to get a closer look at these plants.”

Sevin gripped Galen’s forearm and said, “Stay in the skimmer. Let me show you a trick I learned before you were born.” Sevin used his personal communicator to take a picture of the plants, zoomed in real tight. Then a database searched to find out what they were. “That’s weed, boss. Drugs.”

Galen said, “They may be growing it for pharmaceuticals, legitimate use.”

Sevin shrugged. “Yes. And if you leave a coin under your pillow a fairy will show up. That’s a lot of dope for a city of only two hundred thousand.”

Karen said, “Okay. We really don’t want to have anything to do with these people but we would like to have their organic fuel and we’d like to get real food from them if possible. There has to be a way to keep our relationship with them strictly business.”

Sevin stifled a laugh. “Lady, that is not possible. These people will get their hooks into our troops with their teenaged psycho prostitutes and their drugs and turn our Brigade into a big, steaming pile of undisciplined thugs. I say we turn around now and make contact with the other city.”

Galen thought for a moment. “Ensure all sensors and any other recording devices are off.” He got nods from the others after they double checked everything around them. “Who, exactly, is the legitimate, ultimate, supreme authority on this planet right now?”

“You.” Sevin poked Galen’s shoulder with his right index finger.

Galen said, “We have a situation here, where we have a lot of troops that will soon get bored if we don’t have anything for them to do, and they’ll start looking for some entertainment. But we don’t like the entertainment that Factory Seven’s people will provide because it will rot away the very core of our Brigade by destroying its discipline.”

“It’s not that complicated,” said Tad. “When people you don’t like and can’t trust have something you want, just kick their asses and take it.”

“Start a war,” said Sevin, “and make it look like their fault.”

Galen took off his helmet and scratched his head. “Koa, who’s the most powerful enclave leader in that town?”

Koa consulted his noteputer and did some digging. After a couple of minutes he said, “Orange House Gang, led by the oldest son of Queen Zora. But she’s the real power. She lives in what used to be the city’s courthouse, and uses it as the headquarters of her enclave. Her group provides all the unskilled labor for the air factory and in return has control over half the byproducts.”

Galen said, “The air factory. Who runs it?”

Koa read his noteputer for a minute and then said, “A single corporation controls all of the planet’s air factories and provides the professional staff. At Factory Seven, staff members rotate out after one year tours. They live inside the factory and have very little to do with this town.”

Galen said, “So they don’t really give a crap what happens to the town, as long as they have enough unskilled labor available when they want it. Let’s go pick a fight.”

Sevin sidled the skimmer back onto the road and sped toward the city at eighty percent of top speed. Galen wasn’t sure, but it seemed like Sevin was trying very hard not to smile.

The skimmer entered the town by lifting to a height of four meters to fly over an abandoned toll gate. Galen was sure the vehicle was narrow enough to pass through the stalls.

“Sevin, what was that all bout?”

“Just showing off.” Sevin lowered the hovercraft to three centimeters, concentrating the force of the air coming out from the lower edge of the plenum chamber skirts, for the express purpose of blowing the trash on the median strip and the sidewalks away from his lane. Annoying, of course, to the occasional pedestrian or sidewalk dweller. Closer in to the city, pedestrians in the distance noticed the vehicle but decided to stand well back as it passed, shielding their faces with their hands. The nav system led them to the front entrance of the Orange House, where Sevin flew over the gate and brought the skimmer to a low hover in the yard, rotated and sidled the vehicle so Galen could dismount right at the base of the front steps. The porch roof that had covered the concrete slab at the top of the steps was gone, the base of four snapped-off support columns the only thing left.

Galen held Karen’s hand to help her dismount. “You’re on.”

“Why me?” she asked.

“We’re here for logistics. You’re the logistics officer, and you’re a woman, and this enclave is a matriarchy. I’ll stand to your left and act like you’re in charge.”

“Okay.” She reached inside her combat vest and turned her personal communicator back on. Galen clipped his to his helmet and angled the sensor forward and turned it on.

Galen said to Sevin, “You coming?”

“Nope. I’m the only one accustomed to driving this thing on this planet; it takes some getting used to. I’ll make sure it’s still here when you come back.”

Galen faced the building and stood to Karen’s left. Koa and Tad stood behind them, and on Karen’s initiative, the group ascended the steps.

The main door was flanked by a guard on each side. Thugs, really, wearing street clothes with a bit of an upgrade. No rips or tears, clean, no stains. The men were tall, Galen’s height, with square faces and broad shoulders. The one the left had a brown goatee and mustache, the one on the right, a three centimeter horizontal scar that started on the left cheek and ended at the ear lobe. The guard with the facial hair moved his right hand inside his jacket and used his left hand to pull the jacket open enough so that Galen could see a holstered side arm.

The other guard said, “What you doin’ here?”

Karen said, “I’m here to see Zora.”

“Queen Zora,” corrected the guard.

The main door had a steel plate bolted over its old wooden frame. The cover slid back from inside and two eyes peered out from a narrow slit. The cover slid shut, and then the door opened a crack. “Who do you think you are, coming in here uninvited? What makes you think I don’t have nothing better to do than talk to you?”

“May we come in?” Karen said.

“No, we can talk just fine right here on the porch. You got no business coming inside my house. You come on up here wanting something, but you need to come here stepping correctly. You need to show me some proper respect.” Queen Zora opened the door some more and stepped forward, coming within a centimeter of Karen. Zora was tall, almost Galen’s height, and she was thick. A reasonable amount of body fat adhered to an otherwise muscular frame. She wore a white sleeveless vest and orange body-hugging, seamless pants that ended at her ankles and led into flat-soled synthetic material slippers. Her hair was pulled back into a high, braided pony tail, its black braids accentuated by several small jewels, some diamonds, the rings that held them weaved into the hair.

Karen said, “We’ll need organic fuel and natural food. I have a list.”

“Honey, I don’t care about no list. Now you get on out of here before I lose my mind.”