Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) (27 page)

“They’ve brought... creatures.” Mahindra’s eyes rose and the warmth was replaced by fear. “The streets are patrolled by men who are not men. The brutes stand and watch.”

Natyasha felt Mahindra’s eyes boring into her. Guilt. Guilt. She could taste it.

“Malic—”

“Don’t,” Natyasha said, snapping her eyes back. “Malic’s running the show now.”

“He’s a monster,” Mahindra whispered. She leaned forward and set her parchment fingers onto Natyasha’s cold hand. “A monster.”

I know, she thought, I made him that way.

The room took on a humid feel and the wind dropped. A hiss of mist slid against the window. Outside, the distillation towers rose into the sky, spewing the milky white steam into the cool air. Natyasha turned and saw her dreams drifting away.

Like grasping at steam, she thought. Nothing to be done now but letting it coalesce, settle, drive out the impurities and leave the distillation behind. Only the bitter stuff.

“They still use your name,” Mahindra said.

“My name doesn’t mean anything.”

Mahindra pulled her hand back and pursed her lips. “Child, I’ve watched men and women scrabble over this dirt. I watched when the food ran out. I watched when the water ran dry. I buried two husbands and three sons.”

Natyasha turned her head and looked at Mahindra. The woman was always reserved, regal, a staunch defender of the status quo, the long view. She opened her mouth to speak and stopped when a single crooked finger shot into the air.

“I’m not done!” Mahindra snapped. “We haven’t come this far to let it be torn apart.”

“What can I do?” Natyasha pleaded. “We have nothing. No troops, no military, no way we can fight. They’ll take what they want.”

Mahindra shook her head and stood on shaky legs. “I suggest you think of something, otherwise there won’t be anything left to think about.” The old woman walked to the edge of the door and turned. “Good day.”

“Good day,” Natyasha replied and listened to her walk out.

When the footsteps stopped, she turned her gaze up into the sky and caught a glimpse of the elevator through the steam. Her train of thought went to the edges, the fringes of possibility. On one side was Malic and troops. She knew she couldn’t fight, not with Malic’s boys holding the weapons.

She had a straight up numerical advantage. The colony was plump with citizens and she knew the polling numbers by heart. On top of it, the immigrants. She watched the mist shroud over the view and mulled the question. Immigrants. They had nothing, and she could offer nothing. But maybe it wasn’t a trade of items or goods, but something more abstract?

She stood and walked to the window. Her fingers touched the cold glass and she peered out into the street. Her eyes followed a patrol of the bio-augmented troops as they marched past. Farther down a heavy truck hauled gray canisters of distilled minerals.

“I’m here,” Bark said.

Natyasha spun and stared at Bark. Her hair was a mud streaked mess with scrapes and dirt stains across her face. Natyasha had never seen the ex-Marine so shaken. “Bark,” she whispered. “I thought you were dead.”

Bark stepped quietly into the room and leaned her back against the corner. Her shoulders seemed small as they hunched together. “Almost,” she said. “I had to run into the frontier. They chased until the roads stopped, but god, can those things run. Like dogs.”

“Sit, sit,” Natyasha said as she rushed across the room.

Bark shook her head. “If I sit, I sleep. We need to get out.”

“Malic took over, he must’ve known.”

“I know, I heard on the way back. We need to go.”

Natyasha nodded.

“Come.” Bark turned through the door.

Natyasha followed and stopped on the edge of the threshold. She knew if she passed through that door, she’d never step through it again. Her duty was in that room—by fleeing, she would be admitting defeat. “Wait.”

Bark stopped and rested an alloy arm against the wall. She looked at Natyasha with hard eyes.

“My duty is here. If I go...”

Bark stood up straight. “I can’t protect you here.”

“Go. Do the right thing.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to see the Governor.”

*

Natyasha tried to ignore the abomination that walked beside her. The thing was almost like a man, but with something else. The skull was too small while the shoulders were knotted up and heavy. It had arms like an animal with large fingers like sausages. She shivered and looked away again. It didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

The two walked through the security checkpoint and into the elevator complex. The retaining wall was rebuilt in sections while pockmarks and shrapnel scars marked the event that had left Winterthur enslaved. The space was wide and mostly empty, but more and more of the heavy sealed mineral containers marked the desire of the Hun. Bulk containers were stacked in dreary columns of corrosion. The elevator shot straight into the sky and disappeared through the mist.

A voice, definitely not the escort, spoke from the chest of the creature. “The Governor will see you.”

Natyasha jumped, startled, and looked at the creature.

It turned slightly and beckoned with the odd hands for her to follow.

They walked on the aged, cracked concrete and entered the elevator complex.

The Governor stood with a small staff behind him. A squad of the humanoid soldiers flanked him on one side while a team of armored Human soldiers stood on the other.

“Natyasha,” Governor Myint said. “I was wondering when you would come.”

“I wondered the same,” Natyasha replied.

“We can use your help,” Myint said.

“My help? And I thought Malic took over the role of lapdog,” Natyasha said as she walked with the Governor.

“He’s a tool, useful for one particular task. You, on the other hand, are more useful.”

“So that’s why you didn’t have me shot?”

“Why Natyasha!” Governor Myint said with an offended look. “Just because circumstances change, doesn’t mean you’re not useful.” He turned his head back forward and said, “But do stay away from rendezvouses in the night.”

Natyasha’s heart chilled and she became very aware of the armed soldiers all around her. No, she thought, if they wanted me dead they’d have shot me. “What do you want?”

“Your voice,” Governor Myint said, entering a command room.

The room was filled with screens and displays. Infantry mounted feeds streamed in from across the city and countryside. Most of the feeds showed the immigration center and the surrounding area.

“We’re having a problem and I want you to resolve it.”

Natyasha glanced at the displays and saw that the immigration camp was filled, bursting. Men and women surged against the walls and were beaten back. The angry front of a crowd surged in and out. A riot was forming.

“We can’t hold them there,” Governor Myint said, waving his hand. “And we can’t control them in the city.”

“What about your drones?” Natyasha asked.

“The corrosive air has destroyed my razor drones. So either you calm them down, or the orbital bombardment will begin.”

“
Orbital bombardment?
”

“I’ll pacify this planet one way or another. They are your people, Ms. Dousman,” Governor Myint spat, and slapped his hand onto a console.

Natyasha stared back at the screen and saw targeting solutions overlaid onto the satellite feed. Good god. Her fingers trembled as she saw not only immigrants, those she cast aside, but also her citizens. The moment weighed on her shoulders and she saw that all were her citizens. No, she thought, not hers, but Winterthurs.

“Salamasina,” Governor Myint snapped. “One battery, firing solution four.”

“Solution confirmed. Thirty seconds,” a voice echoed from a console.

“What are you doing?” Natyasha asked. “I’ll speak.”

“And now they’ll listen.”

Natyasha stepped closer to the Governor and heard the sound of a weapon being charged. “Governor!”

“This is because you tried to edge me out. I could have used those facilities.”

“Core,” Natyasha whispered, and knew that the Governor had her.

A large screen shuddered and the image changed to a single satellite feed. Beneath it the immigration facility sprawled out at right angles. Clouds blew in and obscured the majority of the facility. A red icon lit up on the lower corner and counted down.

“You have to stop!” Natyasha pleaded. “This is not how you govern.”

“Govern?” sneered Governor Myint. “I’m not here to govern. I’m here to rule!”

Natyasha stepped back and watched as the icon blinked zero.

At first nothing happened. A single bead of black opened through the clouds and was swallowed up again. A violent torrent of air shuddered through the clouds and slammed the clouds away. Shockwaves rippled as the sound caught up with the projectile. A billowing black cloud shot into the sky and melded into the white mist. A relatively small area of the facility was a crater ringed with wrecked buildings.

The room shuddered as the shockwave rolled through bedrock.

Governor Myint pointed to a comms console. “Tell them to stop the riots or we level the camp. After the camp, we level the cities. The only thing left will be the distillation towers and this complex.”

Natyasha stared back at the Governor and hated him with every bit of her soul. She knew she enabled it, but she couldn’t watch and wait when something could be done. She walked on numb legs to the communications console and sat.

A technician leaned over her shoulder and set it up. He tapped her shoulder and walked away.

“It’s not live,” the Governor added behind her.

Natyasha licked her lips and stared at the empty screen. Hope. They needed hope that something better was coming. That something would make the future worth living.

“Citizens of Winterthur, I speak to you in these difficult days with a beacon of hope. What was so sure yesterday seems so far today, but be patient that our partners in the stars will do us right. Stand quietly, stand patiently, but stand proudly. Do no violence, and await a better day.”

She said the words but it felt like she was watching someone else do it. Traitor, she thought. Traitor. All on her shoulders. There was nothing, nothing she could do to help anyone at all. At the very least she hoped that it would save some lives.

Governor Myint clapped. Loud slow claps that seemed to mock with each percussion. “Eloquent, simple. You are a politician, aren’t you?”

Natyasha stared back in silence and seethed.

“Now go.” Governor Myint turned and faced the satellite display with the growing cloud of dust.

A console crackled to life and Mustafa’s voice burst out. ”Ground Station, we have a Haydn signature.”

Natyasha stopped in the middle of the room and froze. Around her the staff stopped every task. Everyone in the room was silent and staring at the back of Governor Myint.

“Who is it?” the Governor asked.

“I don’t know, but they’re both coming here.”

Natyasha felt the news like someone slammed her in the stomach. She wished she could see the look on Governor Myint’s face. Hope. There was hope.

“We’re going to break orbit—”

“No!” Governor Myint cried out. “Begin the bombardment. Engage those ships here.”

There was a pause and a crackle of interference. “Confirmed,” Mustafa replied in a low voice.

“You can’t!” Natyasha cried.

“Get her out of here!” Governor Myint snarled and stormed out of the room.

Heavy hands clutched Natyasha’s arm and drug her out into the hall. The floor shuddered through her feet.

The orbital bombardment had begun.

––––––––

The room was dark with only a slit of white light coming from beneath the door. Orbital bombardments rolled in the distance. Mortar joints cracked and landed on Emilie’s face. She turned and felt the grit roll off of her cheeks.

The weight of restraint on her chest reminded her how helpless she was. The pain in her face and hands reminded her of how violent they were. She didn’t think they were violent intentionally, the humanoids simply didn’t seem to understand. They pushed and prodded her like cattle, not like a prisoner. Though it didn’t lessen her hate.

She thought back to when she entered the complex. The thing that came back to her was how few actual humans there were. It was at least a twenty-to-one ratio of the bioaugments to humans. They were almost like drones with the real orders coming from human soldiers.

A creak and a thud rolled through the building. A moment later a cascade of thunder drummed and more mortar cracked and fell. The room was alive with the hiss and crackle of mortar falling apart.

Emilie strained her eyes and pushed against the bindings. The metal edge told her she wouldn’t be using any Core Corporate Evasion Techniques to cut through this one. Something was happening outside, she could feel it. Riots? Fighting? The power of the explosions made her excited. Occupiers didn’t blow things up, she thought.

A shadow moved past the door with the sound of shuffling feet. Emilie focused on the slit and saw the dirty floor caked in corrosion. It brought back a memory to her first job chiseling corrosion and caked salts off of vehicles and washing them down with ionized water. The taste of the grimy oil speckled dirt came back to her.

There was a sound from the hallway—a crack followed by a tapping sound. Then two shadows broke the line of light into the room. The door handle clicked and turned silently. Light exploded into the room.

Emilie cried out and turned away from the light. Her eyes clenched tightly but still it burned on her retina. Too many hours of darkness had taken a toll. The fear drove into her like an iron pick. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t move, trapped. A part of her hoped to finish her days on Winterthur, just not like this.

She thrashed against the bindings and pushed her head into the plastic table. Raw edges slid and burned against her skin.

“Shh, shhh!” a woman’s voice hissed.

Emilie pushed her eyes open a crack and saw a woman in a full black combat suit. She recognized the model as an old Core design that the UC used a few years before. The light was still too intense on her tender retina to make out a face.