Department 9 Read online

  “I see.” Ren Kay sat. “Why have you requested my presence?”

  “Your initial action was disappointing.”

  The Zhoogene’s golden eyebrows shot up. “Really? The feeds are full of the atrocities carried out in Zones 40 and 41. They very clearly show RevRec rebels in trucks gunning down civilians who refused to yield to their demands.”

  “That’s not all the public is saying,” In’Nalla replied icily. “They also caught wind of the mechs you left behind to be discovered. They’re asking whether the armored brutes are real or fake. They’re wondering whose mechs they are. Because they sure as hell didn’t belong to the villagers. At all times, the public needs to be given simple and robust messages. Otherwise, the messages can escape my control. Your sloppy work has undermined the killings with the elements of doubt and mystery.”

  “My thoughts exactly. We made a mistake at Krunacao. The rebels were much better armed than we expected. If you want a stronger message to unite your people against the rebels, we need something new. Something big.”

  “We, Ren Kay? Remind me why this outcome would be as desirable to you as it is to me.”

  He shrugged. “Personally, Revered Leader, I don’t care who runs this shithole planet, but the Blue Chamber does. We need strong planetary governments with obedient populations. We need leaders who understand that you cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs. Sometimes, a lot of eggs.”

  “I understand that peace, prosperity, and the security of the overwhelming majority will always be reliant on the broken lives of those who would get in society’s way. But who is the Blue Chamber? And why would you want this outcome for Eiylah-Bremah?”

  “We’re not just trying to shape this world, but the entire Federation, ma’am. It’s the same story everywhere. Governments bribe their supporters and pay off the Militia to turn a blind eye while they suppress opposition. The Outer Torellian Commerce Guild and other powerful organizations spread their influence and milk it for money. The Federation is divided, corrupt, and weak. It would collapse in the face of an external threat.”

  “External threat?” In’Nalla took a sharp breath. “Is there one coming?”

  Until then, Ren Kay had affected a boyish charm. Now, his face pinched as he said one word, “Muryani.”

  Dread tore at her guts. The prospect of a Muryani attack horrified her, always had. Yet, there were examples from early human and Zhoogene history of tiny nations resisting the clutches of their powerful imperial neighbors. In every case, the plucky defenders who beat off the great empires of their time had only done so because they were united and strongly led.

  Despite the initial horror, Ren Kay’s revelation took a weight off her mind. If the Federation were ever going to be strong enough to fight off an attack by the Muryani, more than a few eggs would have to be broken. The deaths of thousands on her world was a horrible crime that would haunt her until her dying day. Yet balanced against the prospect of entire species being eradicated at the hands of the Muryani, those deaths would barely move the scales.

  Her mind was made up.

  “I want a dirty bomb,” she said. “Radiation. Fallout. Fear!”

  She regarded the spy, or whatever the Zhoogene really was. Would he shoot to his feet and condemn her for even conceiving such an evil act?

  Ren Kay answered with a lazy grin. “Not a problem. I can do that.”

  “The willfully cancerous dissenters are edging closer to the capital, but they draw their strongest support from Zones 81 through 84 in the plains to the east of the Ashclombe Mountains.”

  “Won’t pinning the blame on the rebels look odd if they nuke their own supporters?”

  “Of course, it will,” she snapped. “It is to the east of those zones, on the shores of the Amber Sea, that they are pushing hardest to spread their lies and extend their control. They hope to make that region their heartland of the future. I trust my assistant, Blayde Asher, with the details of our strategy. She will contact you within two days with the coordinates of one of the towns or small cities that is resisting the lure of the rebels. Petty, brutal, with evil seething through every cell of their bodies, the so-called and self-appointed Revolutionary Forces of Reconciliation will explode a bomb to terrorize the town into submission.”

  Ren Kay considered the proposal seriously. “Wouldn’t it be better to blame the bomb on the Panhandlers? You want to unite the public behind you, right? Wouldn’t that be easier if you blame off-worlders?”

  “You’re right, damn you. Nuke that city into radioactive glass and make it look like a Panhandler atrocity. Blame them both if you can.”

  “Whoa, there. Back off, Revered Leader! It’s gonna look unconvincing if you glass an entire city. Even a small one. The Panhandlers want to deliver a message, and their ideology allows them to justify any action whatsoever as long as it supports their objectives, but you’re suggesting a level of unnecessary cruelty the people might not buy into. No, we need a small yield. No more than a hundred kilotons. Just enough for EB-Link to trend with images of radioactive clouds that will terrify people over thousands of square miles, not to mention poison the sea.”

  Doubts crept in again. Was she doing the right thing?

  Ren Kay seemed to register her misgivings. “Remember the Muryani. If we’re not strong enough to stand up to them, they will annex Eiylah-Bremah and ship its people across their empire to be slaves until the end of time. Are you strong enough to do this, Revered Leader In’Nalla? Or do we need to find somebody else?”

  “Such a decision should never come easily, Ren Kay. Only a megalomaniac could order such a thing without doubts, and such an individual is not fit to lead. I am the lawfully elected leader of this world, and that gives me the moral authority. I worry about your casual attitude toward the destruction of my citizens.”

  He looked serious for a moment. “It is good that you think carefully before such a course of action, In’Nalla. I shall await a communication from this Blayde Asher. I will not contact you again until after the action has concluded. It is best you do not know the details in advance.”

  * * *

  After she’d dismissed him, In’Nalla spent several valuable minutes staring at the hatch Ren Kay had left through, trying to corral her doubts. She subdued her moral struggles, but she couldn’t tame her distrust of this man and the Blue Chamber who controlled him.

  In the ten years since she’d sworn off alcohol, she’d never needed a drink more than now. Her gut told her to trust these dangerous allies just long enough to win her final victory, but it also told her to prepare for contingencies. That was okay, though. Asher was excellent at that kind of thing.

  Soon…soon she could relax. That, or she’d be dead.

  “When it’s all over,” she said to the empty space. “When the people rise up and reject the WCDs forever, then…then I’ll drink a whole damned case of Scalian whiskey.”

  It was a promise to herself she intended to keep. In’Nalla stood, straight backed, and walked out of the room.

  She was Revered Leader In’Nalla.

  And she had a job to do.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 37: Vetch Arunsen

  Halfway through the morning’s confession practice, Lantosh walked into the claustrophobic room and leaned over Vetch’s table. “Follow me,” she whispered into his ear.

  He glanced up at the re-educator technician and the REED guard who completely ignored Lantosh’s presence.

  In these confession sessions, you read your prepared speech and didn’t let another word slip past your lips. Beatings for any exceptions were savage.

  Obedience to the rigid regime had become so ingrained in the short time they’d been here, Vetch found the idea of walking out the door inconceivable. It just wasn’t…what he was supposed to do.

  “That’s an order,” snapped Lantosh.

  Yeah, she sounded like an officer all right.

  After another nervous glance at the re-educators, who were still pretending t
hey couldn’t hear, he glared up at Lantosh. “I don’t work for you.”

  “Yes, you do. The moment you told me that phrase you overheard, you were mine.”

  Was he?

  He decided he was. He’d repeated Sybutu’s words on the cusp of the moment, but he didn’t regret it. He’d gotten Lily and Darant incarcerated here, and he would damned well get them out. But for that, he needed allies.

  He complied, following her out of the confession complex and across the exercise grounds to a row of storage sheds the guards sometimes used for beatings.

  They never hit you in your face or on your hands, but the REEDs were determined you would always hurt and would never feel safe from a beating.

  He’d been beaten in public. Sometimes, indoors in tiny cupboards. He’d been dragged from his sleep one night and brought to one of these storage sheds where they’d strung him up by his beard. He’d had to stand on tiptoe for hours to avoid ripping his beard out of his chin.

  Damned REEDs thought that was funny.

  These were just the random beatings. Actual punishments were far harsher.

  No one had asked Vetch who he really was. Nor had they shown any signs of connecting him to the events in Kaylingen or those at Krunacao.

  He followed Lantosh into a shed that was cool and musty. Under a single, flickering strip light, random stacks of boxes topped with discarded machinery dominated the gloomy edges of the shed. At its center, two REEDs faced each other across the room.

  Knowing A-10, the darkness and the sense this place had been abandoned and then forgotten, had been carefully constructed. This was the kind of place where prisoners might disappear.

  Uh, oh! What have you led me into, Lantosh?

  The former Legion colonel walked into the space between the two REEDs and faced the one standing with their back to the north wall. Vetch joined her. The REED ordered them to stand at attention and keep their mouths shut if they didn’t want a shock stick rammed down their throats.

  Somewhere behind that black gas mask helmet and the shiny hazmat uniform with the blood red cross was a human woman, or what had once been, judging by her voice. Vetch found it hard to consider the person inside to be human.

  He didn’t recognize her voice, and that was unusual. He’d soon realized every prisoner was assigned a limited number of re-educators, so the bastards could learn the best ways to torture and manipulate that individual.

  The REED standing behind them bothered Vetch the most. The backs of his legs tingled as he expected a stick to thwack against his tendons without warning.

  But the strike didn’t come. Instead, the REED to Vetch’s rear walked out the door without a word, leaving Vetch standing with Lantosh and the REED woman in gloomy silence.

  Your psychodrama games won’t work with me.

  Vetch withdrew inside himself. He thought of the friends he’d lost since riding out of Fort Iceni saddled up on an exuberant Saruswine—Deep Tone, Rynter, Sward, and that poor kid, Meatbolt. As for Green Fish, if she were still alive, he would likely never see her again. As he went through the list, he drew strength from the knowledge that his friends had never given up. Never stopped believing in him. No matter what Lantosh and the REEDs were about to throw his way, he would stay strong for the sake of his fallen friends, because he would never let them down.

  The door opened.

  Vetch turned and looked to see who had joined them.

  “Good to see you,” he said to Lily and Darant, who walked in with the REED. Darant had a swollen left eye.

  “I told you to keep quiet,” said the REED who’d stayed with them.

  “Fuck you,” Vetch told her. All his rage boiled over. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  Vetch bunched his fists, knowing he was about to do something really stupid and that he no longer cared.

  “I admire your spirit, Mr. Arunsen,” said the REED. “Just as well. I expect my marines to possess a certain get up and go.”

  “Your marines?” asked all the prisoners in unison, Lantosh more stridently than the others.

  The REED removed her helmet and revealed the human inside.

  It was Captain Fitzwilliam.

  “Nice voice changer,” said Lily. “Had me fooled.”

  Fitz grinned. “One picks up a trick or two in my line of work.”

  “Fitzwilliam…” Lantosh whispered, astonished almost beyond words.

  “I assumed you knew who this was,” Vetch told her.

  “Not that it was him. Well, well, well. My dear old friend. I never expected to see your face again.”

  Fitz’s expression soured. “Less of the old friend, Lantosh. The last person to call me that was Obinquin Nuysp. He was murdered hours later. Does the name Department 9 mean anything to you?”

  “It does, unfortunately.”

  “Well, they’re here. They murdered Nuysp and tried to kill me. And as for Cisco…” Fitz swallowed hard. “Cisco was always my friend. Now, he’s frozen radioactive dust on Rho-Torkis. Galaxy’s gone to the dogs, Lantosh. I tell you, I don’t like it. As for you, don’t try to tell me I was under deep cover all this time. I’m not coming in from the void. I’m not your dear old friend. And I do not work for the Firm.”

  “Of course, I don’t expect you to return to the fold, Fitzwilliam. Hell, it feels so strange to call you that name to your face. Operation Redeal is underway. The name is not an accident, Fitzwilliam. The old petty allegiances are gone now. Redeal changes everything. Everything.”

  “I agree,” said the man in the REED’s uniform standing behind them. His voice was Bronze’s. “Everything’s changing. But there is one thing we need to concentrate on changing first—how to get you out of here.”

  “Right on,” said Vetch. “But first, Enthree…Is she okay?”

  “She’s desperately worried about you,” Fitz replied. “I’m seeing her tomorrow. Do any of you have words of encouragement I can pass on to let her know your spirits are high?”

  “Yeah,” said Darant. “Tell her, when this is over, I’ll teach her to dance. Human style.”

  “You?” Fitz laughed. “You’re a dancer?”

  “Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

  “Not at all. Just confirming the capabilities of my new personnel. Now, to business. Lily, I have a job for you. I have a particularly odious skragg-bucket I want you to beat the shit out of. Are you up to the task?”

  Lily sighed luxuriously like a waking cat…

  * * * * *

  Chapter 38: Vol Zavage

  Fitz cleared his throat. “You haven’t lost her, you know?”

  Zavage gripped the steering wheel tightly but made no reply.

  The human didn’t get the hint. Zavage was beginning to think the smuggler captain feared silence. “I may not possess your marvelous kesah-kihisia,” said Fitz from the passenger seat, “but I can read people. The connection between you and Green Fish is not something easily broken.”

  Zavage ground his jaw.

  Their six-wheeled truck was still five klicks out from Kaylingen’s official capital-zone boundary, but they had already passed three checkpoints of hard-faced citizen armed action groups, a spontaneous militia of civilians organized through EB-Link messaging pads. They were the result of the panic spreading across the planet in the wake of the atrocities in the village of Krunacao.

  Most on EB-Link agreed they would not stand by and allow their hard-won progress toward a virtuous society be derailed, but not everyone agreed on who to blame.

  An increasing number of human civilians seemed to think the mysterious mechs were evidence of a Muryani invasion. As a Kurlei, Zavage had been born into a minority race that was possibly dwindling toward extinction in this region of the galaxy. He’d had no choice but to live and work among humans, and the race still managed to amaze him. Only humans could see mechs in the form of giant humanoids and convince themselves they were driven by six-limbed Muryani. Humans constructed such elaborate stories sometimes.

  Capta
in Fitz was a case in point. No doubt, in the human’s mind, he was trying to cheer up his Kurlei companion by persuading him that Green Fish was waiting just beyond the next adventure, when, really, it was all about Izza. If Fitz could convince himself that Green Fish wasn’t lost, then maybe his wife wasn’t either.

  A ferocious snore from the cargo bed cut through the modest road noise. Enthree was in the back, asleep in a transportation box designed for dangerous animals. If they’d known how many checkpoints had sprung up since the day before, Zavage would never have agreed to bring Enthree in via this route.

  “The next few days could be rather dangerous,” said Fitz.

  “Just say what you need to say and then keep your mind on mission,” Zavage replied.

  “I am. A person needs hope when the situation seems hopeless. And I tell you, I’m quite certain Green Fish will come back for you. You can spread your fish lumps over me if you like. Then you’d know I meant what I say.”

  That was it. The human had gone too far.

  Zavage perked up. He gave Fitz a hard, contemplative look, despite the man’s head being wrapped in a hood that revealed only his dark shades and a slit for his mouth. “Your marriage looks pretty shattered from where I’m standing. I don’t know whether to punch you or console you, but no amount of self-delusion will bring them back. We are on our own now, Fitzwilliam.”

  Fitz leaned over the center console that divided them and tapped his shades to render them transparent. His eyes glowed as he looked into Zavage’s soul.

  Their minds linked.

  For the first time, Zavage felt the true shape of Fitz’s mind. It was human…yes…but it was also something else. He radiated confidence that he would be reunited with his Izza. It was not the brittleness of self-delusion Zavage was expecting—a crust of wishful thinking that reality would eventually sink through. Instead, Zavage felt robust confidence laid over deep foundations of experience and trust.