Al Steiner: Greenies

He gave her a pointed look. "You used to say that politics was the most corrupt, soulless profession in existence; that it was worse than working for a law company or a corporate management team."

She returned his look. "Yes," she said. "I did say that."

"So that's how you've found the life to be?"

She took a deep breath. This could be a set-up of course. In the world of politics you could never discount that possibility. But her instincts, which had always served her well, told her it wasn't. Jackson was just trying to see if his old friend and lover was still the same person she had once been before he talked about whatever was on his mind. Finally, she nodded. "That's how it is," she told him. "And I hate every minute of it. I've almost quit in disgust a few times."

"So why do you stay if you hate it so much?"

"I believe you remember our past conversations," she replied slyly. "The ones about why I needed to go into politics." She smiled a little in fondness, remembering the closeness that accompanied those talks. "You used to think I was crazy, remember?"

"I remember," he said warmly, remembering the same thing. Yes, this woman before him was the same person he had once loved. "But I also remember being impressed by the complexity of your ambitions. I wish you the best of luck in them."

"I appreciate that, Kevin," she told him.

"But in the meantime," he said, turning to business, "there's this war going on."

"So I've noticed," she answered. "I toured the blast site in the Calvetta district today. It's rather frightening to see what one blast of an EastHem laser can do. One tenth of a second of energy release from eighty kilometers away and more than nine hundred people are dead. And that wasn't even one of the bad ones. Those are up on Triad."

"Triad is getting the shit beat out of it, that's for sure," he agreed. "But the laser blasts are not the concern here."

"The invasion fleet?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he answered. "I saw the briefing by Admiral Graves of the navy on an Internet terminal earlier. He did a good job of blowing smoke up the asses of all the citizens here."

"And the citizens believe him about as much as they do anyone else in such a position," Laura put in. "That's the biggest failing of Earth natives when they deal with Martians. They assume we're just as easily cowed by reassurances as people in Denver or Buenos Aires."

"Underestimation," Jackson said with a nod. "You always said that that was the key to your plans."

"And it still is," she assured him. "If we can survive this war, that will still be the key. So tell me. How much at risk are we? I know we're in danger of invasion from that fleet up there, but I don't know how bad it is. You do, don't you?"

He leaned back a little bit, taking a quick glance around the room, searching for eavesdroppers. Seeing none, he leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice. "They have three divisions of combat troops up there," he said. "Those landing ships are loaded with heavy equipment and troop carrying landers that can be down on the surface in less than an hour with every last one of those men as well as their tanks, their APCs, their artillery, and enough hovers to guarantee air superiority over an advance. If they left the landing ships right now, they could be in occupation of all the Martian cities except Triad in three days."

"Three days?" she asked, feeling fear coursing through her body. She had known it was bad, but that bad? "What about your marines? You won't be able to hold them off at all?"

"Our presence here is nothing more than a public relations tour," he scoffed bitterly. "We make the public feel better and we look good parading around the park in our shorts. See, Mr. and Mrs. Greenie? You're nice and safe on your planet. The marines are here to protect you from those evil EastHem fascists."

"But surely you can hold them back for a little bit?" Laura asked nervously.

"We're a goddamned battalion, Laura," he said, letting a little of his own fear show now. "A battalion! That's four companies of soldiers. Twenty platoons! We have thirty tanks, forty APCs and a few artillery guns we managed to scrounge up. We have six anti-tank platoons and one anti-air squad. If the EastHems land here they're going to throw at least a division at Eden, complete with hover support. The battalion we have as a defense here would be nothing more than a warm-up exercise for them. It's even worse in New Pittsburgh and Proctor. We weren't even able to spare complete battalions to defend those cities. They have no artillery at all and only a few tanks. This planet is virtually defenseless."

"Christ," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's much worse than I thought. And I'm a realist. How did this happen, Kevin? How is it that the most valuable planet in the solar system, the planet that grows more than half of the food for WestHem, that supplies ninety percent of the steel, that generates trillions in profits for all of those corporations, was left wide-open to capture? How?"

"I think you know the answer to that," Jackson replied.

"Money," she spat.

"You got it," he said, nodding. "The WestHem government did not want to spend the money to station a defense force here. Why should they? It's never been invaded before, has it? The only soldiers that are ever on the planet are the ones who occasionally come to train at the extraterrestrial proving grounds. And even then there's usually only a few battalions and they only have outdated equipment because the armed forces do not want to spend the money to transport front-line tanks and APCs here. They always figured they could transport troops here from Earth if EastHem ever made a move. After all, the EastHem troops have to come from Earth as well, don't they? But they never figured on a two front war. The possibility that those troops might be needed on one of the Jupiter moons apparently never occurred to them. And now that EastHem has made landings on Callisto, the forces that were slated to prevent an invasion of Mars have been sent there and they only left a token holding force here."

"That doesn't make any sense," Laura said. "Callisto is of no real strategic value to them. It's only worth is as a staging body for a fuel refining operation."

"That's true," he agreed. "But that's what you get when you have politicians on Earth, acting on behalf of Standard Fuel and Jovian Gasses, making the military decisions. The executive council ordered all available troops to the Jupiter system to eject the EastHem marines from Callisto. General Kensington, who's in command of this particular clusterfuck, practically begged them to reconsider and allow him to reinforce Mars first and foremost. But they wouldn't listen to reason. Standard Fuel and Jovian Gas want that EastHem refining operation destroyed and those EastHem marines off of Callisto. They don't give a damn about Mars. All they're concerned with is preventing EastHem from becoming self-sufficient in fuel."

"But if EastHem invades Mars," Laura said, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice, "WestHem loses their food supply, their steel supply, and most of their shipbuilding and armament industries. The entire economy of WestHem could very well collapse if those things are lost. At the very least EastHem would be the one with the power. They would be able to strangle us."

"And do you want to know the real irony of all this?" Jackson asked, sipping from his coffee.

"What's that?"

"That battle group that has been sent to Callisto, the one that was supposed to defend Mars, it's going to be slaughtered when it tries to eject that landing force. There's no way in hell it's going to be able to retake that moon if the commander of the EastHem forces is even halfway competent at his job."

"What do you mean?" she asked him. "You said that they would have been able to keep EastHem from invading Mars. Why won't they be able to take back a moon? What's the difference?"