The Siege of LX-925 Read online

  Chapter 6

  Freedom sat at the head of the table in his briefing room, while Anders filled him in on Murillo’s inspection in one of the lower decks. Remy remained at the other end of the table, uncomfortable with his liaison’s tattling, but pretending he didn’t hear the conversation.

  “He was near the D-block. Said he was inspecting a power conduit, but acted real strange around us.”

  “Don’t worry about him. Murillo’s harmless.” Though the Colonel acted like nothing was wrong, Remy spied him jotting notes down regardless. No doubt he didn’t want his subordinate feeling bad about ratting out his colleague.

  As the other officers entered, including Lieutenant Colonel Fortune, Anders retreated to a seat beside Remy. Remy looked around at the brass on the collars and noted just about everyone bore lieutenant stripes. He was aware that as the militaries evolved with their governments, ranking structures were streamlined. The distinction between a First and Second Lieutenant disappeared since all lieutenants were regarded as boot (as the Marines liked to call them) regardless of the color of the bar. Remy always found it funny the military had decided to stick with the gold bar for the merged rank as if intending to perpetuate the “butterbar” slur.

  Besides Anders and Pittman, Remy was introduced to the Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Drake, the Quartermaster, Lieutenant Bender (no doubt he received a lot of attention for that name over the years), and the Navigational Officer, Lieutenant Riggs. Besides Freedom and Fortune, the only officer there (and on the rest of the ship for that matter) who wasn’t a lieutenant was the ship’s doctor, Sadile.

  Though he noticed the lower ranks had been cleaned up and streamlined since the early days of the military, it did not escape Remy the penchant for the top brass to expound on their own ranks and differentiate themselves. It had taken both hands to count all the stars on General Mizenov’s collar, and no doubt he had added one more after his latest “victory.” And though he was surprised Freedom retained the rank of Colonel instead of adding his own stars, Remy almost swore that bird on his collar grew bigger every time he encountered the man.

  While waiting for the seats to be filled, Sadile leaned over Anders to chat with Remy. “How are you adjusting to space, Doctor?”

  As he had the first time they met, Sadile had an oversized, fake smile for their passenger. It felt to Remy like, with everyone else on this ship, the doctor had a secret of his own; and he was only too happy to suggest as much to the one person not of this crew.

  “Nothing to adjust to,” Remy smiled back. If Sadile was fishing for a reason to get him back to the medical bay, he wasn’t ready to give it to him. “It’s a much smoother ride than I’m used to on the naval ships.”

  With the last officer seated and Sadile falling back into his chair, Freedom turned on the screen behind him. The image of LX-925.

  “In a couple hours,” Freedom began, “we will reach a full stop well away from the planet, so that Lt. Pittman can scramble up the arsenal in case they come at us with a ship. Once we secure the space over the planet, Col. Fortune will head down to the surface with a Class 7 scrambler programed with the patterns of our ground forces. The miners have possession of a Class 12, so we have to keep our inhibitors online. That means we can’t coordinate the landing from this ship in case they’ve figured out what they can do with that thing.

  “Fortune, your mission is to get inside the complex, secure their scrambler, and obtain the data stores. Then it will be your job to take their inhibitors offline so we can commence the removal.

  “Bender, it is your job to make sure cargo pods H 1 through 3 go down there with the Colonel.

  “Pittman, we’re going in with inhibitors active. As soon as it’s clear, you will deactivate them just long enough to make the transport. Then they must go back up. No excuses like last night.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “We will try to remain in synchronous orbit above the complex until it is secure. Are there any questions?”

  The officers leaned forward in their chairs in preparation for the dismissal, but Remy had to raise his hand, drawing silent grumbles and frustrated glares from the group.

  “Maybe I could go down there first and try to talk them down. This might not have to escalate.”

  The Colonel placed his hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward to stare him down. “With all due respect, Doctor, you are here as an observer, not as an ambassador.”

  Remy felt the coldness blasting from his eyes across the table. It told him he was not going to win the argument. He feared if he pushed, Freedom might confine him to quarters during the mission, thus ending his own in failure. He leaned back in his chair signaling resignation, allowing Freedom to ease back into his own chair and end the standoff.

  “Good. If there are no further questions, you’re all dismissed.”

  As the officers cleared out, Remy remained behind, and by extension, Anders as well. He pondered the situation on that planet and couldn’t help the nagging feeling that this was wrong. He expected the miners were civilian, not military. They couldn’t be held to the same rules and standards as Freedom and his crew. Nor could they be expected to defend themselves when the troops stormed through the doors.

  Remy had seen these kinds of operations back on Earth. When some government wanted farmland for a public works project or a new condominium, and the existing farmers wouldn’t budge, the military would go in to forcibly remove them. The soldiers always had the newest model of particle rifle or plasma cannon, while the farmers tried to stand up for themselves sometimes with pitchforks and machetes. The soldiers always went in trigger happy. After all, a shiny new water treatment plant or schoolhouse was often enough to whitewash the methods.

  Every time the UN deployed him to a former war zone, Remy and his colleagues would dig up a mass grave or inspect an ash pit. When the report hit the UN floor, all nations shared in the outrage. The exterminations and genocides would sweep the media worldwide sparking cries of “Never again.” The more powerful nations would band together and vow to prevent these atrocities from happening again, yet they always did. The next war that broke out, the next suspicion of war crimes and suddenly everyone in the chamber developed amnesia, denying the truth in the allegations, or waiting for what was to them sufficient proof. After that next conflict, Remy would find himself again digging up bodies wondering what happened to the vows and the moral outrage from the last time.

  At some point, someone has to take a stand and do something against the abuses of nations that believe themselves above international law, above human rights guarantees, and above the moral obligations they have to their citizens. Remy always felt powerless back on Earth because his hands were tied as long as even one nation blocked UN preemptive action. But out here in space, out here on a ship called Freedom with all the wonders and marvels he had seen, one man could stand up and say enough. He was sure there was a way to prevent a massacre on that planet.

  Looking to his escort, Remy wasn’t sure if he could trust Anders after the man reported Murillo’s odd behavior to the Colonel. He made an excuse to dismiss Anders, and retreated into his quarters to study the mission briefs on the miners. When he was sure the liaison was safely away, he snuck back into the corridor.

  Standing outside Murillo’s room, Remy wondered if the officer was inside. With everyone busying themselves with the mission preparations, it seemed unlikely he would be in his quarters, but given the general dismissiveness that seemed to exist for this guy, it was worth checking. Sure enough, Murillo appeared when the door dematerialized.

  “What are you doing here,” the Lieutenant asked, almost demanded. Remy spotted Hedley waddling toward them, snatched by his master when he tried to cross the threshold to freedom.

  “After running into you down below, I wanted to know what you meant when you said you weren’t allowed to say where we met before.”

  “I didn’t run into you. I
don’t know what you’re talking about.” Murillo was clearly lying to avoid the question, but the slight change in his tone and demeanor gave Remy pause. “I haven’t left the engine room all day. I came straight here after my duty shift.”

  It would have been easy to check, unless the man didn’t care if he sought proof or not. Then again, after seeing Anders walking around following his death, Remy had to concede this Murillo might not be the same Murillo they met near the storage pods either. It was probably best to drop it and focus on what he came for.

  “I’m mistaken. I’m sorry.” Murillo turned with his dog about to rematerialize the door, when his guest stopped him. “I wanted to ask you about your dog.”

  As if it was a threat, the Lieutenant returned to Remy, fearful of the question. “What about him? You’re not going to report him to the Colonel, are you?”

  “No, I just want to know how you got him aboard without getting caught.”

  “I can’t tell you that.” Just like below, Murillo wanted to give the silent treatment.

  “This could be important, you have to tell me. I need to know if there’s a way to sneak off this ship.”

  Murillo cocked his head curiously. Even Headley pulled in his loose tongue and focused more intently on their guest.

  “There’s nowhere to go. We’re in the middle of space.”

  Remy scanned the hallway in either direction to make sure no one was watching. “Do you mind if we go inside?” Resigned to Remy’s insistence, Murillo stepped aside to allow him across the threshold, rematerializing the door and returning the dog to the floor. Hedley trotted to Remy’s leg and sniffed out his cargo pants. “I want to go down to that planet. I want to talk to those miners before Colonel Fortune storms in with the troops. But Anders said they can detect the scramblers. I need a way down there without being detected.”

  “I can’t help you,” Murillo told him curtly. Remy saw the sympathy in his eyes, like he wanted to help, like he believed this course was right without hearing it out. Still there was something else in his eyes. There was a frustration as though he truly believed he couldn’t help. Remy sensed something beyond Colonel Freedom and his orders, as though there was something larger at work physically preventing Murillo from talking with him.

  That idea was entirely ridiculous.

  “You once told me,” the Lieutenant continued, “about a woman you met in Sandoval. She was walking the streets dazed, bloodied, and bruised. No one seemed to notice her. No one even cared. It was as though this sight was common to these people. But you stopped to find out what happened.”

  Remy’s face grew pale. “I never told anyone that story. How do you know?”

  Murillo went on, ignoring his guest’s curiosity. “That woman had been gang raped, beaten, and left for dead. Those people on that street were afraid to get involved. Many looked the other way or crossed the street just to avoid her, but you had to help her. You saw an injustice that you had to right.”

  “I took her to the nearest hospital and called the police.”

  “Yes, and after spending the day trying to make sure she was going to be all right, and that those cops were going to find her attackers, you went back to your hotel. What you don’t know is that the second your back was turned, those cops dragged her from that hospital and turned her over to the same gang that raped her. They killed her and left her face down in a sewage ditch.”

  “No, that didn’t happen.” Remy shook his head in disbelief. He had never found out what happened to that woman after he left, so there was no way Murillo could say that. “You made that up.”

  “The point is you tried to help someone who desperately needed help. You took pity on someone when no one else would. For all your concerns, you made the situation worse. Your best intentions backfired. That is why I can’t help you, and why I won’t tell you anything. I made that mistake once and it made things far worse.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” Even the dog grew tired of his leg and retreated from him. Anders and Pittman were right about this guy. He was one of the strangest creatures he had ever met. Still, Remy couldn’t take the lies Murillo was spilling, he opened the doorway and ran back into the hallway.

  Remy fell against the wall opposite Murillo’s quarters, his heart racing and skin shivering in an icy sweat. That poor woman couldn’t be dead. There was no way for this young lieutenant to find out what happened to her when even he, a UN representative could never get those answers from the Sandoval government. “So why do I feel guilty,” he asked himself.

  He could sense a door within the corridor dematerialize, looking across to see if Murillo was coming out to apologize. But it wasn’t his door. Further down, to his right, Remy spotted the opening to Pittman’s quarters, and peeking around the frame, he spied a pair of eyeballs themselves framed in long, golden locks flowing down from a demure, young head. The woman Remy had heard in Pittman’s quarters last night had come out for a look.