Stark's Crusade (37 page)

"I'm saying if any military force tries to shoot at those civs then they're gonna find themselves facing my troops. Understand, Sherman? Any military force. We'll take you down if you start shooting the civs." It was mostly a bluff, Stark knew. He had no idea if his soldiers would fire on other Americans, even Americans defending the corrupt politicians trying to secure themselves in power. But he meant every word of it.

Instead of glaring, Morrison grinned. "You could try, Stark. What you just said, it's on the level?"

"You have my word on it. Soldier to soldier."

"Soldier to Marine, you mean. Listen, if you send a single soldier or a whole division down here to take over, to set yourself up in charge, we'll stop you or die trying. Clear?"

"Clear."

"But if you come down to help the civs, to protect them in the exercise of their Constitutional rights, then you won't run into opposition from the Marines. Marines don't shoot civs."

Stark paused, taken aback by the unexpected declaration. "I didn't ask that of you."

"You don't have to. We took the same oath you did. To protect the Constitution of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic.' And we'll be faithful to that oath. To the death, if need be." Morrison hesitated. "There has to be a reason we take an oath to the Constitution instead of to the government. Somebody must have figured something like this might happen someday."

"Yeah. There's a real good reason. Thanks, Morrison. If I ever run into you, I'll buy you a beer."

"As long as you're buying, I'll be drinking. Headquarters, United States Marine Corps, out." The image broke into a million fragments of jiggling colors as the secure link dissolved.

Stark walked slowly out of the communications module, only gradually becoming aware of Reynolds and Manley staring at him. Manley spoke first, indicated the module. "What'd the jar-head say?"

"Jarhead?"

"Yeah. That's slang for a Marine."

"Why? What the hell does 'jarhead' mean?"

"Hell if I know. Sounds like an insult, though, doesn't it? So, what'd he say?"

Stark looked around to ensure none of the watchstanders was listening. "He told me the Marines wouldn't fire on the civ demonstrators and wouldn't try to stop us if we came down to defend the civs."

Reynolds's eyebrows shot up. "The Marines are ready to take down their officers?"

"He didn't say that. No, he just said the Marines wouldn't do it. Like he was speaking for all of them."

"The highest ranking Marine is only a major," Manley noted. "We've heard a lot about junior officers being fed up with the system. Maybe . . ."

"Maybe," Stark agreed. "I've got a feeling things are gonna be happenin' soon back home. Keep your fingers crossed."

When the news arrived, it still came as a shock. Campbell appeared stunned, as if unable to accept the information he was passing to Stark. "It's over."

"What's over? What happened?"

"The government has, for want of a better word, fallen. A mass demonstration simply occupied the Capital and the White House, demanding elections be held as scheduled next week."

"And nobody stopped 'em?"

"No." Campbell shook his head as if dazed. "Apparently, there was an attempt to call some local military force in to turn the demonstrators back."

"The Marines."

"Yes. That's right. But they stayed in their, uh, barracks. So, it appears we will have elections after all."

"Who's running the country until then?"

"Some senior statesmen have been given the job. Men and women who are long retired and still well respected." Campbell smiled. "None of them wanted the job, Sergeant."

"Good. I'll have to send them a sympathy card."

Stark rubbed his face with both hands, trying to order his thoughts while his staff waited. "Okay. The elections have come and gone. The new government promises to make things right. Everybody's happy, except the people who've been running things for the past few decades. According to Campbell, there's a lot of folks heading for the hills. He says foreign countries will soon have a larger number of recently retired American politicians living in them than the U.S. will."

"That's their problem," Bev Manley noted. "What's happening with the mil?"

"Every officer above the rank of O5 has been retired. Effective immediately. Officers below that rank will be reviewed for competence. The government claims no political litmus tests will be used."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"Yeah. But, maybe. . . Campbell said the same thing happened once before, sort of. Back when Jefferson was president and there were a lot of excess officers. Anyhow, here and now, everybody above O5 is gone." He looked over at Chief Melendez. "Man, that's hard to imagine. Navy captains are O6s, right? So there's no captains in the Navy now. Weird."

"Of course there's captains in the Navy," Chief Melendez insisted. "Commanding the ships. They just ain't captains."

"Huh?"

"Someone commanding a ship is the captain," Melendez explained. "But that don't make 'em a captain."

"They're captains but they're not captains?"

"Right. They're, like, commanders."

"Navy commanders are captains?" Vic questioned. "Then why are they called commanders?"

"Because they ain't captains! They're commanders who are also captains."

"Uh-huh."

Melendez frowned. "Look, it's like you ground apes. You got captains, right?"

"Right."

"But they ain't captains."

"Sure they're captains. That's why we call them captains."

"But they ain't captain captains!"

The soldiers exchanged glances. "Okay," Stark noted. "I guess that point's settled, then."
Squids.
"Here's the other news. Campbell says the new government wants to negotiate with everybody up here. I mean really negotiate. They're talking about adding another star to the flag."

"A new state?" Gordasa perked up. "They want to make the Colony a state?"

"That's what they're talking about."

"What about us?" Vic wondered.

"Campbell said he'd look out for us." Faces hardened with instinctive skepticism. "He promised. The negotiating team from the new government will be here in a week. We'll know for sure soon."

Manley reached backward, as if searching for something between her shoulder blades. "Hmmm. Looks like I forgot to wear my armor. I better get it, just in case somebody tries to stick a knife back there."

Stark didn't laugh even though the others did. "We stuck by the civs when they needed us. Now they're promising to stick by us. I've got a meeting with Campbell this afternoon. We'll see what he's got, then."

Campbell seemed subdued when Stark entered his office. "Please sit down, Sergeant."

"Thanks. Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

"Something certainly is." Campbell shifted as if his chair was uncomfortable. "I've been talking to the negotiating team from the new government, as you know. They've been asking some questions which only you can answer."

"It doesn't sound like they're great questions."

"They're not." Campbell tapped his display, bringing up some notes that Stark could only make out as blurred lines from his angle. "There's no way to ask this but bluntly, Sergeant. Crimes were committed up here, by you and by me. Depending on how our actions are interpreted, we could both be charged with rebellion."

"I've known that from the beginning, sir."

"Then how will you react if the government insists on trying you for your crimes?"

"You roll the dice, you pay the price, sir." Stark saw Campbell's surprise. "I know. We've fought real hard to defend ourselves up here, and I guess that sort of sounds like I'm surrendering. But it's all about fighting for an objective. Mine was to fix things and to save my people. As near as I can tell, things are fixed as well as they'll ever be, and as long as I know my people will be taken care of, I'm willing to accept responsibility."

"You don't need to think about this?"

"I've been thinking about it for a long time." Stark sat back, spreading his hands. "Sir, it's . . . oh, hell, the fact is I don't have any real choice. You understand that, don't you? If the government needs a fall guy, somebody to hang so everybody else gets off okay, I'll be that guy."

"Sergeant, you realize the word 'hang' may be literally true."

"Yeah. Don't think I haven't thought about that. But all those grunts trusted me. I've gotta live up to that."

"I see." Campbell pondered Stark's words for a moment. "What if the new government wants more, Sergeant Stark? What if they also want your staff? And anyone who took command positions?"

Stark stared back silently.
What if they do? Hey, Vic, want to come along to my firing squad? She trusted me, too. All those guys who took command positions trusted me.
A vision came to him, of sergeants like Reynolds, Manley, Milheim, and Lamont, walking with him up a long empty slope toward waiting machine guns.
That's what it comes down to, doesn't it? Are we all willing to die for the troops? It's usually the other way around. The troops are supposed to be willing to die for you. But are we willing to die for them?
"Yes."

"Yes?" Campbell questioned. "Yes, what?"

"Yes. If they want my whole staff, and they want all the people who took command positions, we'll go. Just trade that for amnesty for the troops."

Campbell seemed lost for words for a moment. "Are you certain you don't need to discuss this with them first? I mean, we're talking . . . well. . ."

"We're talking marching to our deaths. Yeah. I know. We can do that. As long as it means something, sir. As long as we know it means something."

"What if the government doesn't even offer that? What if it simply demands you accept lawful authority once again, with no promises about what will happen to any military personnel up here?"

Stark tried to conceal his distress. "Is that what they're talking about, sir? Is that what the government wants?"

"I don't know. They're clearly trying to determine what we want, what is necessary to end this situation."

"But they're coming to offer you colonists statehood, right? And they did get rid of most of the officers who've messed things up in the military lately?"

"Yes. That's all true."

"Then, sir . . . how can I say no? To anything? It's not my call. You give the orders. You do what's best for everyone. That's your job. My job is to do what those government representatives tell me to do. I'll spend my last breath asking them to treat my people right, but there's no reason left to justify mutiny."

"There's your own self-interest, Sergeant. Self-preservation."

"Hell, Mr. Campbell, if that mattered so much I wouldn't go out and get shot at on a frequent basis. Look, I did what I figured I had to do. I did it all the best I could. Now I've got to pay whatever price my actions demand. I know that."

"Speaking from the perspective of a colonist, and a person you've helped defend, I'd think your actions demand a reward, not a punishment."

"Thank you, sir. You do what you can for us. Get the best deal you can for the troops. But whatever comes out, we'll accept it."

"Are you sure, Sergeant? Are you sure all of those troops will follow you this time?"

Stark paused again, remembering the events that had brought them to this point. "I can't be certain right now, but I'm pretty sure. I'll talk to everybody. Make sure they know what we have to do, what's expected of them. We want to go back, Mr. Campbell. We're American soldiers, no matter what's happened."

"Then I will do whatever I can in the negotiations, Sergeant. Are you sure you don't want to participate directly in those negotiations?"

"That's not my department, Mr. Campbell. I don't want anybody thinking I'm using my firepower to influence what you decide. You do your job. I'll do mine."

Vic took Stark's news without any apparent surprise. "We always knew when the bill came due we'd be the ones paying it, Ethan."

"You think everybody else will feel the same?"

"Everybody I know. Well, Yurivan is a question mark, as usual, but she'll be certain of her own ability to cut a deal no matter what happens to the rest of us. It's the average grunt you've got to worry about."

"That's what I figured. I've got to talk to them, but there's not enough time for a face-to-face with everyone. I want you to set up something for tomorrow. A big room where I can talk to, oh, say one representative from each company in person. Everybody else will be linked in."

"You're going to give a speech, Ethan?"

"Yeah. And then I'm gonna answer questions. You got a better idea?"

"Nope. I'll set it up."

Stark spent a restless night composing his speech, running words through his head time and again in a futile effort to order them in just the right manner. He was still trying as he walked to the briefing room Vic had prepared, pausing just outside the entrance.
Hey, this is the place where we got that briefing on synergy warfare. Never thought I'd be here again, like this. Well, I've been rolling with events long enough. It's time I took charge of myself.

Soldiers filled the room, corporals and privates sitting in the uncomfortable chairs that were standard issue on the Moon. Someone yelled "attention" and they all sprang to their feet, standing respectfully as Stark strode to the center of the stage.

"At ease, everybody. Seats." Stark stood for a moment, frowning, then shoved aside the podium and gestured down to the first row. "Pass me up a spare chair." Seating himself, he looked out across the audience.

"You all know what's been going down. You all know that reps from the new government are coming to settle this mess. And I know you're all wondering what that means for you and me. First off, I'll tell you straight: I don't know. Everybody's still talking. But I do know what we should do. We should take whatever's offered. The civ colony is gonna be part of the U.S. again, all legal and official. We should be, too."

"Look, you apes. We did something wrong. Mutiny. Bad word. Bad thing. We did it because doing anything else, or doing nothing at all, seemed to be even worse. That's how bad it had gotten. You remember. It wasn't just losing our friends, or losing one battle, or even losing a war. Everything was being lost. We didn't trust our officers, we didn't trust the civs or the government, we were watching people die for nothing and knowing inside that we'd be next and then everything that still mattered to us would be gone, too. So all we could trust was each other, and all we could do was try to stop things from getting worse. But was anybody happy about it? No. Because we knew it should've never come to that. We never should've had to choose between duty and honor, between bad and worse. It seemed the only way to save things was to make that choice, but it wasn't one we ever liked."