AARON AND LI
Friendship Colony was a welcome sight for Thomas and Mary as it appeared out of the starfield in the Outer Belt. The central cylinder revolved leisurely, the green landscape within bathed in sunlight reflected from the great mirrors that surrounded it. Offside, the un-named asteroid they were strip-mining was besieged by ships and laboring machines. The George Fox nosed into the harbor in the sunside endcap and glided into berth. When the space doors were closed and the berth filled with air, mechanics rushed to check it out.
“You’ll like what Professor Kelley has done to it,” Mary told them. “The old ship has never looked or worked better.”
By the time they had showered and changed, ridden the subway to the far end, and emerged to enter the safe-room suite that contained the meeting-room, the Elders had gathered to hear their report.
“Professor Kelley,” Thomas said, “is quite sympathetic to our situation. He is contacting various military types that he assures us are honest and high-minded. He believes they will be sympathetic as well and will be willing to train us to defend ourselves or to defend us on their own, for a modest fee.
“How modest a fee?” Elder Gurney asked.
“Well, the Professor is willing to donate their fee in the interest of preserving a reliable source of materials, if we will house and feed them for the duration. As I understand it, they’re all pretty used to living rough, and I’m sure our hospitality will be sufficient and welcome.”
“Have you met any of these people?” Beacon Hicks asked.
“They’re coming from various planets to the Odysseus site or directly to us,” Mary said, “over the course of the next few days. We haven’t met most of them. But we have met a pair of Galilean Security agents on Ganymede called Loris and Karil, who seem, well, charming and friendly…”
“A little too charming, perhaps,” Thomas muttered. Mary looked at him and smiled.
“…and their reputation…” she went on.
“I’m aware of their reputation,” Elder Gurney said.
Thomas and Mary looked at him.
“What?” Gurney said. “You think I don’t know these things? Go on.”
“Well, yes, they are Libertarians, and perhaps libertines, and their mores are thoroughly Galilean, but my impression is of honest people who intensely dislike the High Companies’ high-handed ways and are not afraid to oppose them with force of arms, particularly rogue bandits like Cuchillo. The Professor has known them and employed them for years in various capacities.”
“The bottom line,” Thomas added, “is that they have fought and killed to defend the victims of bullying and oppression. They have aided the Underground Railroad on Earth, rescued prisoners from the Quasi-Police, and supported the Martian rebels in various ways.”
“Speaking of which,” Mary said, “the Professor has contacted the Martian Resistance and asked an old friend for help. He is an Israeli mercenary, working for the Rebellion, who is well-trained in the Art of War, always used in defense of the innocent. I believe we will be well-served.”
***
A squad from the Martian Liberation Front lay in wait in the Ius Chasma of the Mariner Valley. Reports said that the Terran occupiers were sending a sand-rover train down the canyon and that it would be transporting weapons. The MLF would dearly love to get its hands on those weapons, and the sand-rovers themselves, which could be used to infiltrate the occupying army later. Ch-Chi Li was squad-leader. She and her team lay in wait in a rock-fall below the kilometer-high wall of the canyon, dressed in their rust-red and gray camouflage pressure-suits.
In the distance, they could see the high accelerator-track of the Mariner Line under construction, looking like a Roman aqueduct in some desert quarter of the ancient empire. When completed, it would carry long trains of maglev passenger- and freight-cars the whole length of the Mariner Valley, supported on a magnetic field and reaching great speeds in the thin Martian air. It was touted as high-speed transport to bring the scattered Martian mining communes together, but Li knew it was to bring the boot-heel of Terran power more quickly and efficiently down upon the heads of the Martian miners.
A dust-cloud rising up the canyon walls in the distance revealed the rover ground-train approaching. In a moment, it appeared—half a dozen sections moving swiftly on the great, soft balloon tires that even the rocky terrain of Mars could not impede. The first car was the driver-car, with a driver and navigator/communicator in the forward bubble and a dozen armed men in the cab behind. The last car was a troop-carrier filled with Terran soldiers. In between were closed freight-cars. If these were filled with weapons and ammunition, they were a prize indeed. Li knew that only a few of these men would be seasoned Quasi-Police and the rest would be rookies, having been transferred from Earth in the last two years. They would be physically strong with their Terran muscles, used to three times the gravity, but they would be awkward and unsure on Mars, while Li’s troops would move with the dancer’s grace of a born Martian.
The first car rolled over the laboriously dug trap and the ground gave way beneath it. Its sure-footed tires sank deep into the pit, and it stopped dead. Li’s comm-man switched on the scrambler and the radio in the first car was overwhelmed with static, making it impossible to call for assistance. A hatch opened and a dozen men poured out in their pressure suits. Li’s marksmen sent laser-fire into a few select helmets—those belonging to men who seemed used to the Martian gravity—and the men died horribly, choking on the near-vacuum. The rest of the troop, instantly demoralized, dropped their weapons in the dust and raised their gloved hands.
Li stepped out from behind the rocks. She was a diminutive figure but moved quickly and decisively, her powerful weapon raised. Bandoliers of explosive shells criss-crossed her tiny body, and through the helmet’s faceplate could be seen her glowering, tattooed and scarred face with piercing black eyes. In the Quasi-Police barracks, her name was often mentioned. She gestured with the muzzle of her shotgun. Experienced fighters knew that shotguns, having their own oxygen in the shells, could fire in the Martian near-vacuum, and would cause horrible damage to a pressure-suit. The troops climbed back into the troop-carrier caboose. She placed a microphone against the side of the car and spoke, her cold voice loud inside despite the radio-interference and the generally poor acoustics of the Martian atmosphere.
“Place your helmets in the lock and send them out,” she ordered. In a moment, lights flashed and one of her lieutenants opened the hatch and removed the helmets. The troops inside knew that she could blow a sizeable hole in the car, and everyone would be dead in minutes. The bodies lying in the dust at her feet, features already beginning to mummify in the dry cold, were a lesson that could not be ignored.
The driver and the comm-man stepped out of the first car, guarded by two MLF soldiers, walked aft with their hands raised and cycled through the lock into the crowded troop-car and sent their helmets out as well. The last car was uncoupled, while Li’s troops climbed into the first car. Li pressed a button on her wrist and the fallen panel beneath the first car rose, pushing it up to the surface of the trail.
Li parked her shotgun on her shoulder and looked across the valley floor to the distant accelerator towers. She pressed a button on her wrist and puffs of smoke appeared at several tower foundations. Even in the thin air, the explosions were loud as the towers shivered and collapsed in a rising cloud of dust. Li swung up into the car and cycled through the lock as the car moved forward. Trailed by the baggage-wagons, it sped down the canyon, leaving the crowded troop-car behind alone on the now-silent surface. Li didn’t know when Command would realize the ground-train was late and send out rovers to find it, but those inside would be in no particular danger if they relaxed and breathed normally. The officers would know this.
“When did you rig the accelerator?” her lieutenant asked, grinning.
“Day before yesterday. I knew no trains would be on it yet. Should put their schedule back a Deimos-month at least.”
***
“What the hell is the matter with you?” the Commander demanded.
Li glared at him defiantly. “We needed to make a statement.”
“A statement! Please come into our communities, trash all our stuff, interrogate everyone, torture the leaders, take hostages, and shoot everybody who looks cross-eyed at you! That statement?”
“Once the accelerator line is complete, there will be no more shipments in rover-trains. You know that.”
“Yes, and I also know that the construction will now be guarded from the air. We’ll never get close to the accelerator again. They’ll probably destroy all the communes near the right of way as well and ship the people off to Venus.”
“Are we to stop harassing them because they might hurt us?”
The Commander looked at her for a moment. “Yes, actually. That’s exactly what we’re to do. It’s going to go hard on all of us until they get their hands on you.”
“Well, you could turn me in, couldn’t you?”
“You know we can’t do that, though I’m sorely tempted at the moment, believe me. But we have to get you off the planet and leak the story that you’re gone. Or dead. Then maybe they’ll turn their attention elsewhere.”
Li was stunned. “Sent away from Mars? How could you do that?” She had to admit it was the logical thing to do, but it would be hard on her. Hard indeed.
“I’m turning you over to the Ancilius Group,” the Commander said. “They can get you off the planet safely and discretely.”
“Those mercenaries?”
“They’re disciplined. They plan. They think ahead. You could use a bit of that. Maybe you’ll learn something and come back a better warrior.” He seemed to calm down a bit. “It’s not enough to be angry, Li. It’s not enough to be crazy tough and crazy brave. You have to think. Maybe Aaron Ben David can teach you how to think.”
“That guy? He hates me.”
“A few years ago, you accused him of being a traitor, of turning Karil over to the Quasi. Based on nothing but your hasty conclusions. I understand Loris put you in your place. Maybe the two of you can repair the rift between the Ancilius Group and the MLF.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Li said.
“Well, in any event, I’ve already been in contact with the Ancilius group and Ben David is in the hangar with his vehicle right now. So, get your travel kit together and meet him there.”
The Commander turned away to his computer, which indicated increased activity by the Quasi-Police in Central Mars. Li went to her quarters, threw some things in her kit bag and took the ramp to the commune’s surface hangar. She found Aaron Ben David there, leaning against his Dust Devil—a streamlined and no doubt speedy sports model. The handsome man with the neatly trimmed beard and the abundant curly hair was surrounded by some of the younger female members of the commune, flirting outrageously with him. Li thought it was disgusting. He was old enough to be their father. The man was from Progeny’s generation and a Founder of the Resistance. But they probably thought the little streaks of gray in his beard were wildly attractive. And the way his dark eyes crinkled when he smiled. And the way his tight shipsuit…
He looked up as Li appeared and his face fell. Still carrying a grudge from the little misunderstanding of a few years ago. Without speaking, he tapped the tab on his wrist and the hatch opened. The younger girls looked at Li with a mixture of disappointment and anger. She climbed into the hatch without acknowledging them. Don’t worry, girls, she thought, he’s not my type. Shallow and pretty, arrogant and self-centred. When he followed her into the hatch, she noticed how good he smelled. How can he do that? He’s a dirty duster like the rest of us.
In a moment, they were seated at the controls in the small cab. The ship consisted of the entrance lock, a small cargo area, the control room cab, and all the rest appeared to be engines. No doubt it flew like a bat out of hell. And it did. The engines roared, it hovered and slipped into the surface lock, and when the lock had cycled, it shot across the rocky plains, hovering above the ground, leaving a cloud of dust behind it. Li had to admit the ride was thrilling, and her heart beat faster.
Damned Ancilius Group! Too much money for their own good, supported by guilt-ridden wealth, she thought, hydrogen coin and ice-profits. All flash and no struggle. She tired of watching the plains slide beneath them and looked about the bridge. Half of the gauges and readouts were a mystery to her, and she could drive anything the MLF had. Then she noticed his sidearm.
“That’s a Lassiter,” she said.
“Yes, you’ve seen them before?”
“Took one off a Quasi officer. We’ve studied it, trying to make more.”
“You’d need some very precise engineering. You want to see it?”
She hesitated for a moment but couldn’t help herself. “Okay.”
He popped off the clasp on the holster, slid out the weapon, spun it about, and handed it to her. “Don’t shoot me,” he said with a grin, his black eyes dancing with amusement. “I know you want to.”
“Would I shoot you at the helm at 200 klicks an hour?”
He laughed, showing his damned perfect white teeth. “I’d better not slow down, then.”
She examined the weapon, checked the breech, removed the clip and reinserted it. It was like handling a fine watch. Then she slipped it back into the holster.
“Nice,” she said. “That’s some firepower.”
He glanced at her. She was pretty sure he was looking at the bandoleers across her chest and not the tight breasts visible in the open ship-suit. God! The thought disgusted her.
“Oh, you’ve got firepower,” he said. “Each of those shells in your shotgun could blow open a hatch, hole a rover, blow a man’s head off. They must work in atmosphere or without, even in space.”
“I’ve been in space. I prefer Mars.”
“Really?”
“I’m a duster, through and through.”
“Well, when I first came here from Earth, I’m sure you realize I hated this planet.”
“Most Earthers do.”
“It took a while, and few conversations with Progeny to appreciate the beauty here. A special kind of beauty. Earth has the blue skies and the rain and the breezes, other planets have the scintillating ice and the black star-studded sky. But there’s something special about the red plains and the butterscotch skies and the dancing moons and the fitful winds. It seems ancient and secret. There were oceans and rivers here before the human species was born, before the dinosaurs. You know what they say: When you look into the abyss, the abyss looks into you. My ancestors arose in the desert, then travelled the Earth, and then space. Here I am back in the desert again.”
“My ancestors too. Long, long ago. Outside the Great Wall.”
This man had ridden with Progeny when Progeny was founding Martian society, broke him out of jail more than once, sat by his deathbed, rescued Karil. “You’re not so bad,” she said.
Aaron grinned. “Why? What was wrong with me?”
“I don’t know. Mercenary. How could you care for Mars like we do?”
“Well, I didn’t care much for you either.”
“What do you mean?”
Aaron was beginning to think this conversation was not a good idea. “Well, you seem a little sloppy.”
“Sloppy!” she turned to face him, her smile fading.
“I only mean the MLF is not as disciplined as it could be. Sometimes you don’t think things through. You get surprised and have to improvise your way out of a crisis.”
“That’s our skill. Conditions change quickly, especially on Mars. Sometimes…”
“Well, you’re going to be away from Mars for a while.”
“What am I supposed to do? Sit in a safe-house with my thumb up my ass?”
“Oh, I think we’ll find something to interest…”
An object roared overhead.
“What’s that?”
“Quasi cruiser,” Aaron said. “My guess is they’re out looking for you.”
“Stop your vehicle and identify yourself,” said a voice on the comm. Aaron could see no other choice. He slowed down and the Dust Devil settled on the sand. He sent the registration number of the vehicle, and they were no doubt checking it. It was registered to a dummy company, part of the Martian Mining and Manufacturing Corporation. The cruiser settled to the ground in front of them, several meters away, and weapons rolled out of the vehicle’s flanks.
“This might be a good time to improvise,” he said to Li.
“The Dust Devil has no weapons?”
“It’s supposed to belong to a rich executive, someone the Quasi would not want to piss off. That’s its defense. But with the all-out search for you, we’ll be told to get out and they will check our faces. One look at you…”
“I know. I might as well have MLF tattooed on my forehead.”
“Maybe you can do that in prison later, unless you want to do something unexpected and sloppy right now.”
“Okay, put on your helmet, like you’re getting ready to cycle out.” Li did the same. When the hiss of oxygen filled their suits, she reached down with her left hand and snatched up Aaron’s Lassiter. She put a neat hole in the centre of the forward port, and they heard the air rushing out. She grabbed her shotgun, thrust it through the hole, and pulled the trigger. The Quasi cruiser’s cab exploded and the two officers inside no doubt died instantly. Aaron grabbed the helm, the Dust Devil rose into the air and roared off across the ancient riverbed. Behind them, the cruiser exploded again.
“Best I could do,” Li said and spun Aaron’s pistol into its holster. “I hope we’ll get to where we’re going soon,” she said. “There’s only the air in our suits now. I’m pretty sure they managed to contact their base, and this will attract a lot of attention.” And she smiled at him. “Sloppy enough for you?”
Aaron burst out laughing. “We’ll be under cover in a few minutes,” he said. It was not long before they nosed into a nondescript crater and slipped into a shadowed cavern in the rim. Aaron punched out a number and a hatch slid open. The Devil darted inside, the lock was pressurized, and they slipped into a huge hangar. As the lights came on, Li noticed an impressive collection of surface vehicles surrounding a small spaceship. The ship seemed compact but well-built and was called the Asaph Hall, named after the discoverer of the Martian moons. They climbed out of the Dust Devil as it slowly filled with air and peeled off their now quite uncomfortable suits. Li dropped her bandoleers on the floor.
Under her suit, she had been wearing the midriff-baring undergarments that Martian women wore in their warm caverns, and she found Aaron looking at her. She was no longer disgusted.
“What the hell is that?” he asked, pointing to the long gash across her stomach.
“Laser burn,” she said. “I got that in Utopia. What’s the scar on your face? Don’t tell me it’s a duelling scar.”
He laughed. “I do let the ladies think so sometimes. They seem to find the idea romantic. But it was made by a switchblade in Nueva York.”
“Hell, I think that’s romantic.” She turned around and rolled up her top to reveal a terrible scar. “Stabbed in the back,” she said,” in a bar in the Kasei Vallis. It was a disgruntled trooper who didn’t like drinking with Martians. I put out his eye with a pool cue and joined the MLF.”
Aaron peeled off his shirt to reveal a wicked scar on his impressive pecs. “Bayonet on the Golan Heights. Early in my career.”
“Wow! It’s nearly 2160. Are they still fighting over that real estate?”
He laughed. “No, it’s 5922 and we’re still fighting over that real estate. Why was your clan transported to Mars? Still the same old conflict?”
“Point taken.” Li touched the scar with her fingertips and dropped her hand slowly over his washboard stomach. “Are we going to take off in that little ship?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll need a shower first.”
“Yes.”
“Want to take it now?”
“Yes.”
He showed her where the shower facilities were located and they stripped off and soaped each other, finding more burns and battle-scars as the evening progressed.