Jonathan Howard - Katya's War

“But,” Oksana was trying to find a flaw in the logic, “but you’re a high value prisoner. They wouldn’t dare!”

“Maybe, but I’m not as big a prize as the Vodyanoi . She’s been weed in the FMA’s fans since the war. They’d sacrifice me in a second if it meant sinking the Vodyanoi . Sacrifice us .” Oksana’s face fell; this was an argument she could understand. Alina already looked sick with fear. Katya smiled sympathetically. “Not that I want to worry you or anything.”

After that, an air of doom-laden pessimism set in with her guards and they became far less strict with Katya. First they freed her hands, the theory being that she couldn’t reach them across the aisle while her ankles were still restrained. It was a reasonable theory and she had no desire to provoke them any further by trying anything suspicious. She did consider for a while pointing out that their main threat was far more likely to be boredom rather than torpedoes, since she had neglected to point out that Kane would never be stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trap. But frightened people tend to cling together, and she preferred the comradeship the phantom threat had created aboard the little shuttle.

Then they let her use the head unsupervised, and — without prompting — let her walk up and down the aisle for a few minutes every couple of hours to keep her circulation up. One or other of them would sit with their gun in hand as a matter of form, but without enthusiasm. Katya considered ways of taking control of the shuttle, but every plan foundered on the necessity of shooting one or both of her guards once she’d taken one of the poorly protected pistols, and then the certainty that the shadowing submarine would never allow her to get away even if she somehow managed to gain entrance to the control section.

Katya was pleased that the former reason influenced her decision not to attempt an escape more than the latter. Despite everything, she hadn’t turned into the Chertovka yet.

At least the little boat’s supplies included changes of clothing for Katya. Oksana and Alina’s kitbags had already been loaded when they’d come aboard and, when they had realised that they would be in the small vessel for almost three days, they had changed from duty uniforms to much more comfortable fatigues.

By halfway through the second day, they were no longer bothering to restrain Katya at all. This change in affairs had been caused when, during one of her exercise walks up and down the aisle, she noticed Oksana’s gun lying by her folded uniform on one of the seats while Oksana was in the head using the shower unit. Katya coughed and, when Alina looked up from reading a book on her memo pad, pointed at the unattended maser. “You might want to put that somewhere where I can’t get it so easily,” advised Katya.

The knowledge that their prisoner could have killed the pair of them — yet didn’t — convinced them that Katya was not at all violent, which made her status as a traitor all the more baffling to them. After Alina had finished shouting at Oksana about the pistol, she said to Katya, “So, just what did you do?”

“Alina!” Oksana was scandalised at the flouting of their orders like this, but Alina just fobbed her off with an impatient flap of her hand.

So Katya told them. She told them of how she’d been involved with the beginning of the war, and of how she discovered the Yagizban treason, although she did not tell them of the Leviathan because her story was complicated enough as it was. She described how she had become a darling of the news services for a day or two, of her decoration as a Hero of Russalka and of how much she loved the medal’s wooden box. Then she told them of the axis of enemies, of Havilland “Killer” Kane (who wasn’t the monster he was made out to be) and Tasya “Chertovka” Morevna (who pretty much was). Then she told them of how her boat was hijacked by the Vodyanoi , her voyage into Red Water, and what she found there — the massacre of Yagizban civilians, the grave of the Terran colonists.

“The war has to stop,” she finished. “FMA versus Yagizban doesn’t matter anymore. The survival of the Russalkin is all that matters. That’s why I did what I did.”

There was a silence. Then Oksana said, “The Yagizban base. It must have been a set-up. The Yags conned you, Katya.”

“And they built a full scale replica of a Terran colony ship and sank it in the middle of the Peklo Volume? I know what I saw. I always thought the FMA was there for all of us. It never crossed my mind to ask what was going on in the governmental corridors.”

She thought of something Kane had once said. He’d been right, damn him.

“People are people,” she said. “Our ancestors put power into the hands of a small council with insufficient checks and balances as to how they used that power. Corruption had set in long before the Terrans returned, but that was a perfect opportunity to declare martial law. Since then it’s been endless wars. War against the Grubbers, or war against the pirates, and now war against the Yagizban. We’re so busy trying to be patriotic heroes we never even question if the wars were ever necessary.”

Oksana wasn’t having it. She shook her head defiantly. “The Federal government would never do any of these things you’ve said they have.”

Alina looked sideways at her. “That’s a pretty nice thing to say considering they’ve staked us out here like kraken bait.”

“I’m sure they thought it was necessary.” Katya saw the light of desperation in Oksana’s eye, the fear of change. She’d seen it in Sergei’s, too. “They know what they’re doing.”

“Yeah,” agreed Alina, “they know exactly what they’re doing. What they’re not doing is caring a bucket of fish guts what happens to us. Think about it, Oks. They could have programmed this shuttle to wait in the moon pool exit tunnel while an empty one went out instead on full automatic. Then the Novgorod or whatever followed us out could have picked us up in its salvage maw. We’d be nice and safe in a big warboat, and who cares what happens to the shuttle? Let Kane and the She-Devil go after it, good riddance to it.”

It was a good idea, Katya admitted to herself, and must surely have occurred to the people behind their current situation. It would, of course, have required substantial extra organisation. However much trouble it would have taken, apparently the three women weren’t worth it in the eyes of the Federal Government. And, of course, if Katya died out there, it would be claimed the Yagizban had murdered her to keep her silent, no matter whose torpedo actually made the kill. Alina and Oksana’s deaths would be entirely acceptable collateral damage.

Katya didn’t think either of them really believed her about what she’d seen in the Red Water. Oksana clung to the notion that the Yagizban had somehow fooled Katya into doing their dirty work for them, while Alina somehow heard what Katya had said, accepted it, and then partially forgot about it. It was as if Katya’s experiences ran contrary to the universe Alina thought she had grown up within, the resulting cognitive dissonance weakening the newer and less established thoughts. Katya couldn’t really blame her; for all her apparent cynicism, the FMA was a godlike entity to Alina, and it would take more than some hearsay to break her faith.

The one thing that did stick with both her guards was that they would not be intercepted by pirates or Yagizban, so they relaxed, played games, and told one another anecdotes. Here, at least, they had no problems of belief or comprehension when Katya told them about Killer Kane and the Chertovka. Oksana was disappointed and Alina unsurprised that Kane was polite and thoughtful, and was not very keen on killing people as a rule. “Where’s the return in being a mass murderer?” Alina pointed out. “Piracy is a business. Kane’s a businessman.” She nodded sagely at this wisdom.