Rebels

  The colonel was busy running through some simple navigational monitoring procedures I’d shown him, and, with nothing else to do, I found myself feeling absolutely miserable.

  I’d done a lot of dangerous things the last time I’d left Earth. I’d taken a lot of chances, but even when things hadn’t worked out the way I wanted—like with our getting kicked out of the Confederation—at least no one had gotten hurt.

  Urch was an officer on a Confederation ship, and while I hated that he was dead, he had chosen to take those risks when he signed up. Nayana had not. She hadn’t wanted to come out here, and I’d talked her into it. If I hadn’t, she would still be alive.

  Colonel Rage looked at me. “Say we’re at a restaurant, and I can’t decide between the steak and the chicken. What would you tell me to eat?”

  “Colonel,” I sighed. “I’m not really up for talking about food.”

  “Chicken or steak,” he insisted in that military tone that basically meant you had to answer.

  “I don’t know. You seem like a red-meat sort of guy. Steak.”

  “And if I order the steak, and I end up choking to death, does that mean you killed me?”

  I shrugged, seeing where he was going with this. “It’s hardly the same thing.”

  “Yes it is. You asked her to come with you on a trip that should have been safe. It turned out not to be, but that’s not on you.”

  “She didn’t want to do this. I talked her into it.”

  “I think what she wanted was for you to say you needed her on the team,” he said. “She wanted to feel like she was important.” The colonel shook his head. “Look, son. The point of feeling terrible after you make a mistake is so that you can learn to do better next time. You didn’t make a mistake, so there’s nothing to learn. We were betrayed, and you couldn’t have known that. Better to feel angry than guilty.”

  “You think we should be plotting revenge?”

  “We don’t understand the first thing about the mess we’re in. I think we should be figuring out how we’re going to get everyone back home safely.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But if the chance for revenge comes along,” he said with a slight smile, “well, we’ll see how we feel then.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  * * *

  When we came out of tunnel in the Confederation Central system, I knew what had to be taken care of and in what order. The massive domed city in space, orbiting the great gas giant, still looked beautiful to me, like a place of wonder, but now I was also afraid of what I would find there. We all stared out the viewscreen, and Alice and Colonel Rage were speechless as they gaped at this technological marvel. I wanted to join them, but I was too busy trying to figure out how to keep us alive and safe.

  The first priority was communication, and I sent out the messages that needed to be transmitted. Then I contacted Docking Control, identified who we were, and asked for docking procedures. There was a long silence, and then we were given an approach route. I tried contacting some old friends on the station and found that, much as I had expected, our communications had been cut off. Once they’d discovered who we were, someone didn’t want us to tell our side of the story.

  Our docking bay was in a secure portion of the spaceport, and we stepped out into an area of unadorned white walls. The air smelled sterile, with a vague hint of disinfectant. I thought about how this must seem to Alice, who was getting her first view of the inside of the station. This didn’t feel like visiting an amazing, futuristic society. It felt like a field trip to space prison. A dozen peace officers were on-site to meet us. They represented a variety of species. Several looked vaguely humanoid, but with different-shaped heads or non-Earth skin colors and various cranial protrusions. There were also a few species that looked a bit like Earth animals—including the bull-headed and beaked-otter aliens I’d seen before. They came in various shapes and colors and heights, but they had one thing in common: They all glared at us like they hated our guts.

  I noticed that several of them wore black armbands with the squiggly fire symbol of the Movement for Peace. We were getting off to a terrific start.

  “You are being detained for questioning,” said a very tall humanoid. He had a triangular head and an almost impossibly thin body around which he wore a close-fitting uniform. His hands looked about as thick as construction paper. “Do not give us any trouble.”

  They escorted us down a long, bleak corridor to a sparsely furnished room, large and white with a narrow table in the center, around which were set a few chairs.

  “Wait here,” the narrow peace officer said.

  “For how long?” I asked.

  “For as long as it takes.”

  They closed the door behind us, and I heard the hiss of a vacuum seal. It felt like we were being sterilized.

  “I put Zeke in charge when the shuttle was in crisis,” the colonel said after a moment. “I believed him to be the best qualified person for that job. The way I see it, I’m best qualified to handle our dealings with the aliens. Let me speak when the time comes. I’m in command, and I’ll get us out of this.”

  We all agreed, and with that settled, we sat and waited for another three hours. There’s nothing like the combination of fear and boredom to make the time crawl. Then, at last, the door opened, and three beings stood there: two peace officers flanking an all-too-familiar bulky form.

  Junup looked like I remembered, with his goaty face, his hairy body, and his seemingly incongruous shell hanging on his back. He strode in quickly, so his cape billowed behind him. He wore no shirt, but around one of his shaggy arms he had a black band showing the flame symbol.

  “You certainly know how to make an impression, Mr. Reynolds,” he said. “Last time you arrived it was after destroying an enemy ship. This time you decided to take out one of our own.”

  “I sent the logs and my report,” I told him. “You know what happened.”

  “My nephew was on that ship,” Junup said, his voice hard.

  “Your nephew was a mutineer,” I said. “He tried to kill me.”

  Colonel Rage cleared his throat, reminding me that he was supposed to be speaking for our group. “Excuse me,” he said. “My name is Colonel Richard Rage, United States Army, and—”

  “I know who you are,” Junup said. “Three of the juvenile humans I recognize. The fourth is the stowaway. Another criminal from a world of beings who delight in breaking their own laws and then, when those are exhausted, anyone else’s laws they can find.”

  “You’re Junup, is that right?” the colonel asked, not letting himself sound even slightly put out.

  “Interim Director Junup.”

  “Well, Interim Director Junup, allow me to express my condolences on the passing of your nephew. We are also saddened by the loss of life aboard the Kind Disposition, as well as the destruction of the ship itself. That said, I can assure you that Zeke was not seeking to harm people or property, but rather to avoid being destroyed by a missile fired at us with murderous intent. It was your nephew who told us that his orders were—”

  “I’m afraid the picture is far from clear,” Junup interrupted, swishing his cape theatrically. He must have learned that move in villain school. “It appears to me that you became some sort of threat to the Kind Disposition, and Captain Hyi took appropriate action against you. Unfortunately, you would not accept his authority, mutinied, and destroyed a Confederation vessel. And now you want praise, I suppose?”

  Colonel Rage was on his feet. “You don’t really intend to sell that malarkey, do you? There was an organized revolt on that ship. Every officer on board was a part of it except the captain and that Urch fellow.”

  “And so you executed them?”

  “You know that’s not what happened.”

  “This matter will be subject to scrutiny,” said Interim Director Junup, “as will any arrangements my predecessor made with you.”

  Colonel Rage pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and inde
x finger. “Look, these kids aren’t warriors, and they sure aren’t criminals. They’re survivors. It’s pretty easy to see that you’re not fond of them, and I’m willing to bet you weren’t so keen on this crazy mission Ghli Wixxix had in mind for them.”

  “You are right in that,” Junup said. “I once had a great deal of respect for her, but this was a fool’s errand.”

  “Then give us a ride home. I’m sure you’ve got your own fires to put out. You don’t want us here, and we don’t want to be here. Send us back to Earth, and no one has to know about any of this. You can say the ship was destroyed in an accident. Say your enemies did it, and use it to gain more support for whatever it is you want. Just don’t let these kids get caught up in your power struggle.”

  Junup stroked his goaty beard thoughtfully. “If we can keep this story from spreading, then such a thing might be possible.”

  The Colonel nodded. “I thought we might be able to do business.”

  Uh-oh, Smelly observed.

  I sighed. Smelly was correct. I had already made this option unworkable. “Unfortunately, it’s a little late for that,” I told them.

  “You can’t have pulled the same stunt by bringing in your data-collector friends. We blocked your communications as soon as you made contact.”

  “I kind of figured you’d want to control the story,” I said, “so I sent out the information before I contacted Docking Control.”

  “That’s against the rules!” Junup cried. “You cannot make private communications before contacting Docking Control!”

  “I know,” I said. “Which is why I figured it wouldn’t occur to you.”

  Junup snorted. He took a couple of quick strides around the room before turning sharply to face me. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you. You wanted your fabricated story to be public, and now it is. Now I must consider my options. Tell me. Have you ever heard of Planet Pleasant?”

  “No,” I said. “But with a name working that hard, it can’t be any place I want to visit.”

  “It is where the Phands conduct their cruelest and most unspeakable scientific experiments. I’m sure they would be most grateful to me if I had you delivered there. The Phands don’t believe that adolescents are completely developed sentient beings, you know. It’s one of the reasons your actions have so infuriated them. I’m sure they would love to cut your head open and find out what makes you so irritating.”

  “Hold on,” Colonel Rage began, but Junup was clearly done talking. He turned toward the door.

  “What happens now?” Mi Sun asked.

  “For now, you are to be held as prisoners,” Junup said. “I no longer have the option of dealing with this quietly, so I am going to need a few hours to determine how best to manage this latest disaster.” He shook his head. “Zeke, can’t you see that this is your fault? Can you imagine how much easier things would be if you weren’t always trying to outsmart everyone?”

  “They’d be easier,” Colonel Rage said, “because he’d be dead.”

  “Yes,” Junup agreed as he stepped out the door. “That would make things easier, wouldn’t it?”

  • • •

  We sat around the table, feeling despondent.

  “We’ve pretty much got no options here,” Colonel Rage said. “They don’t fear Earth as a military power, and diplomatic relations with our world don’t matter to them. We could disappear, and there’s nothing the people back home could do about it.”

  “I don’t think you’re making me feel better,” Charles said.

  “Sorry, son. Just thinking aloud. I’m trying to determine our next move, but I’m not coming up with a whole lot.”

  I felt everyone staring at me, like this situation was my fault. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to take the blame, though.

  “Maybe he would have sent us home if I hadn’t gone public,” I said. “But maybe we would just have been made to quietly vanish. That Planet Pleasant idea seemed to come pretty quickly to him. The main thing now is that since our being here is public knowledge, Junup can’t treat us too badly.”

  “Hmm,” Colonel Rage said. “That’s a fair point. It could be that your little stunt saved our behinds, Zeke.”

  “How do you mean?” I asked.

  “He’s keeping us locked in this room because he’s got nowhere to put us. That means they made no plans for our leaving this facility. He either had a ship gassed up and ready to go, or we were never getting off this space station alive.”

  “Junup’s a weenie, but he wouldn’t . . .” I trailed off because it seemed pretty much like he would. In fact he had already tried. I needed to remember that I could not put anything past him.

  The colonel was in full agreement. “Whoever organized the takeover on the Kind Disposition had to be someone pretty high up the chain of command. It makes things easier if you have a bunch of blind followers wearing armbands who are willing to do pretty much anything you say.”

  After another three hours the narrow, triangle-headed peace officer opened the door and told us that Junup was ready for us.

  “Ready for what?” the colonel demanded.

  “You don’t ask questions here,” the peace officer said.

  “Son, these young people are my responsibility, so you either tell me what I want to know, or we’re going to have a problem. Given it looks like I could tear you in half, I’d think you’d rather do things the easy way.”

  The peace officer blinked its large, triangular eyes several times. “There will be a brief presentation to data collectors. After that, you are being taken to your quarters in the government compound where these youths stayed the last time they were on the station.”

  We followed the peace officer into the hallway, and a second officer fell into line behind us. We then walked until we met up with Junup near where the hallway ended with a pair of double doors.

  Junup looked us over, and then his eyes rested on me. “I would ask you not to do anything foolish, but that is like asking rotten fruit not to stink. If you don’t wish to be offended by rotten fruit, you must dispose of it in a proper, environmentally sensitive recycler unit.”

  “This analogy is confusing me,” I said. “Am I the recycler unit?”

  “Because you chose to circulate misleading rumors about what happened on that ship, I must now address the data collectors who have gathered outside. I emphasize that it is I who will address them, not you. I wish you to be present to lend tacit support to what I have to say.” Junup keyed something into his data bracelet, and I felt my own bracelet hum as it received a transmission. I saw all the others react as well, so I knew that whatever he’d sent me, he’d sent to all of us.

  “To guarantee your cooperation, I’ve just used my security override to send a dampening field to each of your data bracelets. If you choose to speak, only my officers and your fellow criminals will hear you, so there is no point in attempting to communicate with anyone else.”

  “I don’t like this,” Colonel Rage said.

  “You don’t have to. I am trying to manage this situation to the best of my ability. You may not enjoy what I have to say, but you will endure it, in part because it is the best way to ensure a favorable final outcome for you, but also, more importantly, because there is nothing you can do about it.”

  I felt another slight buzz in my bracelet, which I assumed meant Junup was encasing us in the dampening field. “Do you think you can just silence us?” I asked incredulously, but my own voice produced a dull echo, like I was talking with a bucket over my head.

  “If I have accomplished nothing else in my career,” Junup said, “I will be content with the knowledge that I have, at the very least, silenced Ezekiel Reynolds for a time.”

  The guards then opened the double doors, and we walked out to face a crowd of perhaps a hundred data collectors. Lights shone in our faces. Recording drones hovered above us, while various data collectors held up their data bracelets or recording devices or exposed their image-capturing tattoos. Most of them
were beings I didn’t know, but a few of them I recognized from my hearing the previous year, and front and center was Hluh, whom I had contacted directly with my report about the destruction of the Kind Disposition and the shuttle data logs.

  It would have been overstating the matter to say that Hluh and I were friends. She didn’t do friendship, exactly, but we had a history, and while it had started out with the two of us at odds, she’d later helped us a great deal in figuring out who had manipulated our presence on the station—and why. I had to admit, I was happy to see her blank expression as she stared up at me. Hers was the closest thing to a friendly face that I was going to find in the room.

  Junup raised up a hairy arm, and the room began to quiet. Recording devices continued to hum, but soon no one spoke.

  “There have been rumors circulated on the news outputs,” Junup began, “and I would like to address them as best I can, though I will tell you directly that we believe the leaked data to be at best incomplete, at worst a forgery. Here, however, is what we know. The Confederation starship Kind Disposition has been destroyed with all hands, including my beloved nephew, Knutjhob. It grieves me to confirm the rumors that Director Ghli Wixxix was also on board. She perished along with Captain Hyi and his crew.” Junup paused here. “In accordance with our laws, I will fill the role of interim director until the next election cycle.”

  What followed was a long list of Ghli Wixxix’s accomplishments and Junup recounting personal anecdotes that mostly served to show how much Ghli Wixxix had admired and respected Junup, and how happy she would be that her position was being filled by someone so competent and just all around amazingly wonderful.

  “As more information becomes available, we shall pass it along,” Junup said. “Unfortunately, there is not much we know, and a great deal of misinformation to sort through. It certainly does not aid our inquiry that the only witnesses to this disaster very likely caused it.”