A Desert Called Peace - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel A Desert Called Peace Part 48 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"We've hidden absolutely nothing," Carrera a.s.sured her.
Gathering her soiled dignity about her representatives of major cosmopolitan progressive organizations like Amnesty were used to more respect respect! she walked in the direction indicated.
Irene Temujin first heard the screams when she reached a point about one hundred meters from the separately walled compound. She began to hurry. The guards at the gate attempted to bar her way until Carrera signaled that it was all right for her to enter. Once past that inside gate, the screaming grew oppressively loud.
A row of five gallows, wire nooses hanging empty, stood just inside the gate. They were low structures, each with a stool underneath, obviously intended to let their victims strangle rather than to mercifully break their necks. Temujin almost retched at seeing them.
Worse was the stink. As soon as Temujin entered the adobe building nearest the gate her nostrils were a.s.sailed with the mixed smell of feces, p.i.s.s, blood, and burnt pork. Once again, a guard made as if to bar her way until Carrera signaled that she was to be allowed in.
Once inside, she saw four men, their arms bound behind them, hanging by those arms from meat hooks attached to the wooden beams of the ceiling. The men's heads hung low, the very picture of abject misery, while their toes barely touched the floor.
"Would you like to record their faces?" Carrera asked genially. When she didn't answer immediately he walked up to the nearest of the hanging men and, grabbing him by the hair, lifted his face for the camera.
Temujin was so shocked she didn't even wonder at Carrera's arrogance in showing her all this horror. Doesn't realize I'm from Doesn't realize I'm from Amnesty? Amnesty? Or that I have Or that I have pull pull around the globe around the globe?
"Be sure to get this, gentlemen," he told the camera team. "Ms. Temujin will want it all recorded." He did the same with each of the others.
"Irene, would you like to see the rest?"
Normally tawny face gone white with horror, the woman gulped and answered, "Yes."
In the next cell, a small room showed a half naked man bound to a metal chair. Wires led from a field telephone to the floor where they were lost in a ma.s.s of wires. Wires also were attached directly to the prisoner's genitals. A Sumeri, in the uniform of Sada's brigade, asked questions of the bound prisoner. When answers were not forthcoming, another Sumeri sitting at the table began to turn the crank on the field phone. The bound prisoner screamed and writhed piteously. There was a puddle of urine on the floor. A smell of overripe s.h.i.t escaped the cell's small window.
The next cell showed a man on a wooden table. Another interrogator asked questions while an a.s.sistant played a blowtorch over the far side of the prisoner's leg, furthest away from the door. The screaming was absolutely hideous and nauseating. There was an overwhelming smell of burnt pork.
Temujin turned and began to storm out. Before she made it she bent over suddenly, adding the smell of her own vomit to the sickening stench that pervaded the facility.
Babel, Hotel Ishtar, 21/7/461 AC Carrera had provided an escort for Irene all the way to Babel. "It would never do," he explained, "for you to be killed in my ZOR." At least once we've accepted you in and a.s.sumed a sort of tacit responsibility. At least once we've accepted you in and a.s.sumed a sort of tacit responsibility. The escort had consisted of two light wheel vehicles and a heavier truck with a tarp pulled over it. Fernandez had volunteered to serve as escort officer. The escort had consisted of two light wheel vehicles and a heavier truck with a tarp pulled over it. Fernandez had volunteered to serve as escort officer.
Once back at her hotel, Temujin had wasted no time in calling for a press conference. At that, she had made her statement and shown her video of the horrors being perpetrated near Ninewa. She called, forcefully and sincerely, for, "This illegal occupation to end."
At about that time, Fernandez walked into the back of the large press room containing hundreds of reporters. He had a fairly large armed escort with him. Temujin, closing her prepared statement, wondered for a moment if they were here to arrest her. She pointed and started to say, "There's one of the torturers-" when she recognized the face of one of the armed men standing by Fernandez's side.
Oh, s.h.i.t, she thought. she thought. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.
She didn't need to say it. As one the a.s.sembled media types turned around and saw for themselves.
The man to whom Irene had pointed had appeared on the film she had just shown. He appeared on the film not as one of the guards or interrogators, but as one of the "victims," the very first one hanging with his arms behind him, as a matter of fact. (For, unnoticed by Irene, another rope had run from the bound hands to encircle his waist under his clothing.) Despite the current highly amused smile, the face was completely recognizable. So were the faces of every other man in Fernandez's escort, every man who had ridden to Babel in the back of a tarp-covered truck, every man who had been seen under "torture."
Yet here he was, here they were, free and armed. That meant...
The reporters turned their questioning faces back toward Temujin who sat there, dumbly.
"If she'd seen nothing," Fernandez shouted over the hubbub, "she'd still have reported the same thing. It's her business business to find torture in the world. It's so much her business that she didn't even think to question the show we put on for her. I've got to ask you people, how stupid are to find torture in the world. It's so much her business that she didn't even think to question the show we put on for her. I've got to ask you people, how stupid are you you that you would a.s.sume accurate reporting from a woman as gullible as that you would a.s.sume accurate reporting from a woman as gullible as that that?
"Now, if any of you would like to talk to the "victims," they're at your disposal."
Camp Balboa, Ninewa, 22/7/461 AC "Patricio, that was just mean! mean!" Lourdes chided as they watched the television in the three bedroom adobe bungalow the troops had put up for them. The party, Carrera and Lourdes plus Sada and his wife, sat on the floor on cushions. Ruqaya, Sada's wife, had shown Lourdes how to make a first cla.s.s kibsa, kibsa, which sat mostly eaten (with fingers) on a tray in the middle. which sat mostly eaten (with fingers) on a tray in the middle.
Carrera couldn't answer at first; he was laughing too hard.
"He was perfectly correct to do this, Miss Lourdes," Sada insisted. "Prestige drives these people, that and their perks. Humiliation is what they fear the most. That woman is personally crushed, probably forever. Her entire organization is humiliated. Patricio has pulled the incisors of a major enemy."
"It was really Fernandez's idea," Carrera submitted, humbly, though it was a hard statement to get out through his laughter. "Frankly, I couldn't believe that she'd be stupid enough to fall for it, that anyone anyone would be stupid enough to fall for it. The tricky part was collecting the special effects, the blood and s.h.i.t and such, to make it seem real. Fortunately, one of the mess halls had some pork we could burn up with a blowtorch. And the "victims" and "interrogators" had already been rehea.r.s.ed." would be stupid enough to fall for it. The tricky part was collecting the special effects, the blood and s.h.i.t and such, to make it seem real. Fortunately, one of the mess halls had some pork we could burn up with a blowtorch. And the "victims" and "interrogators" had already been rehea.r.s.ed."
"Those were important, Legate Patricio, but she saw what she expected to see," Sada explained. "She made herself herself fall for it." fall for it."
"It was still mean mean," Lourdes insisted.
"But it was clever clever," Sada's wife, Ruqaya, answered, sipping at her tea.
Hospital Cerro Ancon, 23/7/461 AC If I were truly truly clever clever, thought the doctor, I'd have thought of this myself. It's just amazing what a young girl looking on or helping can do to move progress along I'd have thought of this myself. It's just amazing what a young girl looking on or helping can do to move progress along. The doctor smiled indulgently as young Private Mendoza walked with difficulty, true, but he walked walked with one arm over the shoulder of the lovely young girl who came to see him every day. Her arm was about his waist. with one arm over the shoulder of the lovely young girl who came to see him every day. Her arm was about his waist.
"This is so hard, Quelli," the boy said, "and I'm too heavy for you."
"Nonsense, Jorge. Did you forget I'm a farm girl, not some soft, city-bred wilting flower?"
Mendoza had wondered what she looked like. At some level he knew it could not matter to him so long as he couldn't see. On the other hand, looks or not she was shaped shaped right. That, he could tell from the press of her tiny body against him and the times they walked with only his arm around her waist for support. right. That, he could tell from the press of her tiny body against him and the times they walked with only his arm around her waist for support. G.o.d, is she shaped right! G.o.d, is she shaped right!
The pair reached as far as they could in the physical therapy and prosthetics area. Marqueli guided Jorge in a half-stumbling turn and they began the return promenade.
"I heard Legate Carrera and Duce Duce Parilla have decreed a Parilla have decreed a beca beca" an educational scholarship "for all seriously wounded or decorated veterans," Marqueli said.
"Something to think on," Mendoza agreed. "But I've only got a high school education. And then there's the farm to think about."
"Well, as to the farm," the girl answered, "you really don't need to worry about it. Your mother told me over the phone that she's found someone to work it for her."
"I know...but that land's been in our family for over four hundred years. It doesn't feel right having someone else work it."
Marqueli understood that call of the land. Her family, too, had been ranching the same patch for as long as Mendoza's. Indeed, she'd checked the local histories and birth records and discovered that they'd both had ancestors who'd ridden with the semi-legendary Belisario Carrera in his war against Earth. The reason reason she'd checked, though, had been to find out degree of consanguinity. They were, it seemed, roughly seventh cousins...though it was more complicated than that as there was more than one link. The reason she'd checked she'd checked, though, had been to find out degree of consanguinity. They were, it seemed, roughly seventh cousins...though it was more complicated than that as there was more than one link. The reason she'd checked that that ...well...that was for later. ...well...that was for later.
In the interim, there was the torture of Jorge learning to walk to see to.
SS Hildegard Mises, Yithrabi Coast, 23/7/461 AC Relatively few people were actually tortured on the ship. For most, a tour of what was available was generally sufficient. While Jorge and Marqueli worked out his new legs, and Irene Temujin wallowed alone in the abject misery of worldwide embarra.s.sment, other people arrived at a ship registered to Balboa and currently coasting off of Yithrab. The ship was unremarkable, a freighter with nothing much to distinguish it on the outside except for what appeared to be a helicopter platform. An IM-71 helicopter sat on the pad, but only for so long as it took to disgorge five tightly bound men and a woman.
They were prisoners. They'd had all the due process anyone might expect, however, and been found guilty of numerous war crimes to include failure to meet the requirements for legal combatancy. They were illegal illegal combatants, in other words. combatants, in other words.
Identified as outsiders by the men of his brigade that Sada had spread out as "watchers," four of the men had been grabbed from a safe house set up by Sumer's dictator in the days before the invasion for just such a purpose. The other two were the homeowner and his wife. All six had been captured in a raid by the Cazador Cohort, aided by some Sumeri guides from Sada's brigade.
The prisoners had been taken, in secret, to another safe house, this one controlled by Sada's men. There all six had been court-martialed, separately, in camera in camera and sentenced to hang. A mullah Carrera had asked Sada for, "An honest mullah, one who will stay bought." and two of his a.s.sociates had approved the penalty as fitting under Islamic law. Fernandez had given the mullah six gold drachmae as a reward, to be divided as the mullah, Ha.s.sim, thought fit. and sentenced to hang. A mullah Carrera had asked Sada for, "An honest mullah, one who will stay bought." and two of his a.s.sociates had approved the penalty as fitting under Islamic law. Fernandez had given the mullah six gold drachmae as a reward, to be divided as the mullah, Ha.s.sim, thought fit.
The executions had been duly announced, along with the notice that the bodies had been cremated and the ashes scattered against the Day of Judgment when Allah could rejoin their atoms or not, as he saw fit. Instead of having been executed, however, the six were taken at night in a sealed vehicle to the airfield inside the camp and loaded aboard the helicopter. This had then flown them, also in secret, to the ship, the helicopter skimming the waves and even venturing into Farsian airs.p.a.ce to confuse radar.
Gagged with duct tape, none had been given a chance to talk with each other since their capture.
On the ship they were separated and carried individually to separate containers which had been soundproofed. There they were chained to the walls while the program for each was worked out by the Sumeri interrogators on Fernandez's Black Budget.
Looking over the files on each, the chief interrogator, Warrant Officer Achmed al Mahamda, tapped his fingers on first one picture, then another. These are either brothers or close cousins These are either brothers or close cousins, Mahamda thought. What one knows the other will know as well. What one knows the other will know as well. He placed the files together on his desk and wrote on a slip of paper, "Interrogation Course M." He placed the files together on his desk and wrote on a slip of paper, "Interrogation Course M."
This meant that the cousins, or brothers, would be used as a check on each other. If their stories failed to match in any particular, pain would be first threatened and, if that failed, applied until they did match.
It's funny; thought Mahamda, well, funny for certain values of funny, that for all that relatives and comrades try to concoct a story beforehand, they can never get all the details right. They might agree on, "We were just minding our own business going to the goat auction," but they never think of "What's Khalid's mother's maiden name?" They never remember to work out and commit to memory a purely spurious route or set of connections and events. Even if they did, they wouldn't remember to update it daily and couldn't commit it to memory even if they tried. And once we get them screaming and talking, once they lose confidence in each other and the story, there's no stopping point and they'll spill everything. well, funny for certain values of funny, that for all that relatives and comrades try to concoct a story beforehand, they can never get all the details right. They might agree on, "We were just minding our own business going to the goat auction," but they never think of "What's Khalid's mother's maiden name?" They never remember to work out and commit to memory a purely spurious route or set of connections and events. Even if they did, they wouldn't remember to update it daily and couldn't commit it to memory even if they tried. And once we get them screaming and talking, once they lose confidence in each other and the story, there's no stopping point and they'll spill everything.
The others were more problematic. At this stage, the insurgency wasn't really well developed enough even the bi-weekly mortaring of Camp Balboa had grown somewhat listless for there to have been much intelligence to gather. Sada's watchers watched, of course, even so.
The first course of the treatment, for each of the prisoners, was to give them a guided tour of the ship. This was usually enough to loosen even very fixed tongues.
Muhammad al Kahlayleh was the first of the newcomers to be given the tour. His interrogator introduced himself genially. "I'm Warrant Officer Achmed al Mahamda, and you are going to tell me everything I want to know."
Al Kahlayleh told Mahamda, a very genial seeming and somewhat overweight former member of the dictator's Mukhabarat Mukhabarat, or secret police, "I'll tell you nothing."
Al Mahamda just kept the genial smile and answered, very confidently, "Yes, you will. Trust me on this. I've been at this business a long time. It's just a job to me but it's a job I do very well."
With al Kahlayleh's hands cuffed to a chain about his waist, and accompanied by two stout escorts, al Mahamda led the prisoner to the first chamber. This contained a dental chair, with all the usual appurtenances and some extra features for holding the "patient" firmly in place.
"We usually begin here, my friend," al Mahamda began. "The teeth are not strictly necessary for life, can be repaired almost indefinitely, and are extremely painful to have drilled without anesthesia."
A smiling Sumeri in a white coat bobbed his head, also genially, agreeing, "Oh, yes, it is truly awful what we can do here, more or less indefinitely." Al Kahlayleh's tawny face blanched, as much at the present geniality as at the future prospect.
"Of course, there are other methods," Al Mahamda continued, still smiling. "This way, please."
The next chamber held another chair, not unlike the dental chair in the first, but without any of the instruments.
"This is worse," the warrant officer said. "Here, we do more or less permanent damage. The chair is to hold you still for it."
"Permanent damage?" the prisoner asked.
"Oh, yes. Here fingernails are removed. Gonads are crushed. Also we can attach an electrode to your p.e.n.i.s and stick one up your a.s.s." Al Mahamda shook his head. "If you think a dental drill is painful, well..." Mahamda shuddered delicately.
"Come on, only fair to show you the rest."
The next chamber held a similar chair. Along one wall was a bench on which were neatly laid out a series of obscure instruments.
"This one is particularly fascinating," Al Mahamda said, picking up a complex metal a.s.sembly with places for neck, knees and wrists, plus a rack and pinion method for closing the entire apparatus. "It's called the "Scavenger" I haven't a clue why and it does everything the old rack used to do, but in a fraction of the s.p.a.ce. It will break your bones, deform your spine, dislocate your joints. It's pretty awful, but very little effort for us which, as you may imagine, we appreciate."
The prisoner gulped.
"And then there's this," the warrant continued, holding up what looked like an outsized wooden shoe with handles and screws. "We put this on one of your feet and simply crush that foot a millimeter at a time. You know," he said, with a trace of wonder in his voice, "as I said, I've been at this business a long time and I've never seen anyone resist this for long. I think it must be the idea that they'll be crippled for life that gets to them. What do you think?"
"I think I'll tell you whatever you want to know," answered al Kahlayleh, shivering. "Just keep that s.h.i.t away from me."
So much for "I'll tell you nothing," thought al Mahamda. thought al Mahamda.
"You sure you wouldn't like just one little demonstration?" al Mahamda asked. "Just so you know we're sincere."
"No, no," the would-be insurgent answered. "That won't be necessary. No, not at all necessary. I'll cooperate."
"You're sure sure you wouldn't like a demonstration," al Mahamda asked again, pleasantly. "Just as a show of our good faith." you wouldn't like a demonstration," al Mahamda asked again, pleasantly. "Just as a show of our good faith."
"Please, no," the prisoner whimpered.
"Very well, then." al Mahamda put the boot down, as if reluctantly. "You do realize, don't you, that if we catch you in a lie, now or later, you will get the treatment before I deign to talk to you again."
"I said said I'll talk," al Kahlayleh shouted. "Just get me out of here." I'll talk," al Kahlayleh shouted. "Just get me out of here."
"Very well. In light of your cooperative att.i.tude, I think we can dispense with the rest of the tour. Come with me."
The four men began walking toward the bow of the ship when they pa.s.sed an area marked, in Arabic, "Surgical Ward."
"Is that for if someone has a heart attack while being questioned?" the prisoner asked.
"Oh, no," the interrogator answered. "Well, that, too. But mostly this is for the really hard cases. See, we give them s.e.x change operations before we strangle them so that they go to Allah as women."
Kahlayleh's eyes rolled up in his head as he moaned and crumpled to the deck.
Mahamda couldn't help but laugh. "You know, boys, it's amazing how often we get that reaction. That infidel, Fernandez, was a pure genius for thinking of this trick."
Not that it was actually a trick, of course.
First Landing, Hudson, 33/7/461 AC Matthias Esterhazy, representing the firm of Chatham, Hennessey, and Schmied had no trouble securing an appointment with Irene Temujin. Indeed, since it seemed as if the entire world had turned their backs on her, unwilling to be contaminated by her apparent gullibility, she was positively eager to see anyone who might contribute to the organization and so help her expiate her shame. She had been thinking of resigning her post and going to work for the World League, where even idiocy could be, and generally was, rewarded. But before she took that cut in pay and prestige, perhaps Esterhazy would offer her the means to regain her lost status.
Esterhazy ignored the woman's voluble grat.i.tude. He wasn't here to dispense money, but rather to show the power and influence money could buy. Taking his seat he opened an expensive looking leather briefcase and took from it a folder, which he opened. He slid a picture onto Temujin's desk.
"A photo of my son at school? I don't understand."
Matthias didn't answer. Instead, he slid another across, this one of her family in Kashmir which was her home. This was followed by another of her daughter in finishing school in Helvetia. The last was of her husband, taken apparently as he left his place of employment with the World League in First Landing.
"Let me be blunt," Esterhazy said, Sachsen accent coming through strongly. "You are now shown to ze verld, fittingly or not, as an hysteric und a fool. Very little you say is likely to be believed by anyvun who matters. Ever. Again."
Irene began to blanche.
"Zus, ze rest of vat I haff to say, you could repeat to no good effect. Zat is, if you were shtupid enough to repeat it. If, even zo, you do repeat it, everyone you care for in zis verld vill disappear." His hand pointed toward the photos now littering Irene's desk. "Moreover, if you do not call your organization's dogs away from the Legio del Cid Legio del Cid, eferyvun you care about in life vill disappear. Let me add to zat, zat zey are all being vatched and ze disappearance of any vun of zem vill cause all ze rest to disappear. Phones, too, are being monitored as is zeir mail.
"My principle in zis matter is someone you don't want to f.u.c.k viz, Ms. Temujin. He has no scruples, not anymore. If you get in his vay you vill be crushed. Going after him or his organization, or trying to, is even more silly zan it vould have been for you to go after ze olt Volgan Empire in zeir days of power. Ze Volgans, at least, vere slightly sensitive to public opinion vile my principle is not in ze least."
Esterhazy further explained, "Ze problem, you see, Ms. Temujin, is zat you and zose like you are aesthetically razer zan morally focused. You object to what you can see razer zan to vat is true. Zus, you can see what you like to zink of as torture because the civilized East lets lets you see it. You cannot see ze harm that ze torture seeks to prevent und zo you ignore it. Frankly, since it does not fit your verld view, you ignore ze harm even ven you can see it. In ze old days, you made a show of being "neutral" with regard to the Volgan Empire. Never mind zat, morally speaking, ze Volgan Empire vas as evil a political construct as man has efer known and should have been ze focus of you see it. You cannot see ze harm that ze torture seeks to prevent und zo you ignore it. Frankly, since it does not fit your verld view, you ignore ze harm even ven you can see it. In ze old days, you made a show of being "neutral" with regard to the Volgan Empire. Never mind zat, morally speaking, ze Volgan Empire vas as evil a political construct as man has efer known and should have been ze focus of all all of your efforts. Ze Volgans did not let you of your efforts. Ze Volgans did not let you see see ze evil zey did and so, zey vere not truly evil to you. Ze democratic world did let you ze evil zey did and so, zey vere not truly evil to you. Ze democratic world did let you see see zeir much lesser degree of evil and so zey were ultimate evil to you. zeir much lesser degree of evil and so zey were ultimate evil to you.
"You are like ze drunk who lost ze keys to his vehicle on vun side of ze road, but insists on looking for zem on ze ozer where zere is more light.