Graham Paul: The Final Battle

“Stop worrying, Michael,” Bakker said. “She knows the Hammers have to be beaten, and she knows we can’t do that without Fed support, so why wouldn’t she?”

Because I betrayed the trust she’d always shown in me, Michael thought. That’s why.

Thursday, April 11, 2402, UD

Graymouth, Asthana planet

Marnie Bakker’s eyes betrayed her apprehension as they flicked from side to side in a restless search for anything out of place. Her anxiety was contagious. Michael’s nerves were a mess. His mouth was dry, and his heart was racing. For all he knew, there could have been hundreds of Asthanan Community Safety agents in crowds thronging Graymouth’s busy town square, waiting for him to break cover, waiting to arrest him, waiting to hand him over to their DocSec masters.

Finally Bakker nodded. She turned to Michael. “Okay,” she said. “My people say there’s no sign of CommSafe, so I think we’re good to go.”

“You sure?”

“No, not really. CommSafe has more agents than you’ve had hot dinners, and even though we do our best to ping them, we can’t know them all.”

“Great,” Michael muttered.

“Let’s do it, and don’t forget the bailout plan if it all goes to shit.”

“I won’t,” Michael said, sticking close to Bakker as she set off for the Asthana Communications building, the largest and most imposing on the square.

The months had not been kind to Vice Admiral Jaruzelska. She had aged. Dulled gray by fatigue and stress, her skin was tight across a thin, angular face, her eyes sunk into black-dusted wells.

Jaruzelska was angry: eyes narrowed, cheeks red, lips thinned into a bloodless line, fingers drumming on the desk.

For an eternity after the pinchcomm call stabilized, nothing was said. “Admiral,” Michael said at last, “it’s good to see-”

“You have one minute, Helfort,” Jaruzelska said, “and that is all. If you cannot convince me I should talk longer, the next time you hear me speak will be when I give evidence at your court-martial, and believe me when I say that day will come. You betrayed me, you betrayed the Fleet, you betrayed the Federated Worlds, and for what? A goddamned woman!”

In an instant, fury engulfed Michael. It took an enormous effort to choke back his angry response. He took a deep breath. “What I have done-and why-is irrelevant. This is not the time or the place. I-”

“How dare you!” Jaruzelska barked. “Never in our history has one officer done so much damage, and not just any officer. You . The most decorated, the most experienced, the most promising junior officer I have … the fleet has ever seen. And you threw it all away because you loved a woman. It makes no sense, and you must stand trial for what you have done.”

“I agree, and if you listen to me, I’ll surrender myself to you here on Asthana.” The lie threatened to stick in Michael’s throat, but he did not much care anymore. If he betrayed Jaruzelska’s trust one more time, what did it matter? There was too much at stake.

“That means you’ll be court-martialed for what you’ve done. You do know that?”

“So be it.”

Jaruzelska stared at Michael for a good minute without saying a word. Then she nodded, and a fleeting smile flitted across her lips, a smile that came and went in an instant. “You always were a clever little bastard, Helfort.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” Jaruzelska said. She paused; her eyes bored into his, her gaze so intense that for a moment Michael was worried that she somehow had uncovered the lie. “Now, stop wasting my time. What is it you want to tell me?”

“Watch this, admiral.”

Jaruzelska looked right at Michael for good minute after the holovid clip had ended. “So you want me to come to Asthana to talk with this General Cortez?” she said at last.

“You need to hear it from them, sir. And we need to start moving things forward. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“You haven’t heard the latest news, have you?” she said. “The Fed government has offered the Hammers a cease-fire.”

Michael’s mouth sagged open. “A cease-fire?”

“Moderator Ferrero and Chief Councillor Polk announced it at a media conference on Scobie’s World. Fleet found out only afterward; it seems we weren’t important enough to be consulted.” The bitterness in Jaruzelska’s voice was plain to hear. “She wants to conclude a full peace treaty inside three months.”

“Why the rush?” Michael said. “All that does is make the Federated Worlds look weak.”

“It does. Problem is that Joe Public thinks a treaty will put an end to the fighting between the Federated Worlds and the Hammers. Let me see … ‘so we can look forward with absolute confidence to a new era of peace and prosperity’; that’s what our new moderator said.”

“Anyone who thinks the Hammers are interested in peace and prosperity is a moron.”

“The average Fed does think that. Ferrero’s never been more popular.”

“So what do we do now?”

“I’ll come to Asthana to meet with General Cortez. I’m due some leave, and since everybody thinks the war is over, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“Cortez will be pleased.”

“I doubt that, Helfort; not when he understands just how much things have changed back home.”

“What are you saying?” Michael protested. “That it’s all over? That all we’ve got to look forward to is life as one of the Hammer Empire’s vassal states?”

“I didn’t say that, Helfort!” Jaruzelska said with some asperity. “Right now I don’t have anything good to tell Cortez, but if Polk and Ferrero think people like me will just roll over, they are mistaken, so let’s not give up just yet. Believe me, we are a very long way from beaten.”

It sure as hell doesn’t look that way to me , Michael thought. “Understood,” was all he said.

“Okay, I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve made the arrangements. Oh, there’s one more thing before I go.”

“Sir?”

“I have decided to decline your offer to turn yourself in, Helfort. We have bigger things to worry about right now.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Don’t thank me. I knew you were lying.”

And with that, before Michael could respond, Jaruzelska cut the call and the holovid screen went blank.

Cortez, Hok, and Sedova were sitting around the battered kitchen table waiting for Michael when he and Marnie Bakker walked in.

“Well,” Cortez demanded, the strain showing on his face, “what did she say?”

“She’ll come to talk with you, General,” Michael replied.

“Thank Kraa for that,” Cortez said with a broad smile of relief.

“I’m afraid there’s some bad news, though. You know that the Federated Worlds has a new moderator?”

“Yes, Caroline Ferrero. What of her?”

“We thought she’d tone down the peace rhetoric once she took over the government and became responsible for the security of the Federated Worlds, right?”

“Our political analysts were pretty confident on that score,” Cortez said. “Sniping from opposition is one thing; carrying the can for humanspace’s wealthiest system is another.”

“Well, the analysts were wrong, General. She’s offered the Hammers a cease-fire, and they’ve agreed. The next step is to sit down and negotiate a formal peace treaty.”

“We’re screwed,” Cortez whispered, “absolutely screwed.” His head slumped, and his hands massaged his temples as if to make the bad news go away. “I’m not sure how the Revival can survive this,” he said, looking up. “Without the Federated Worlds’ direct support, the NRA cannot deliver a military victory, and Polk will take full advantage of the, the … what’s the phrase?”