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There was no horror left inside him, and yet still the prayer was heard, repeating its endless cadence. NOT HER, OR IF IT MUST BE HER THAT SOMEHOW SHE DIED QUICKLY. NO PLEASE, TAKE ME INSTEAD. Till in his delirium he spoke to the soldier, and pleaded with him not to shoot.
He had to hold one hand with the other to make it work, but on his third attempt punched in correctly: Ara Heidi Brunner, DOB 12/10/89.
The networked computers responded.
Brunner, Ara Heidi- 12/10/89
CC#: 320-557-877-666 s.e.x: Female Eyes: Blue Hair: Black Height: 5'6"
Weight: 110 lbs
Born Badenberg JCFv Schiller Educated Berlin University Masters Degree Environmental Science Married Olaf Augustine Brunner 6/20/10 Residence Black Forest Province Currently a.s.signed NorthWest Geological t.i.tle Agricultural Technician Current Status *
Having thus filled the display box the lighted asterisk began to flash, waiting for the signal to advance. Here Brunner hesitated, as his lips tried to mumble some words.
"You have to be alive, I won't let you." Or was it, "Our father full of grace if I mean anything to you dear G.o.d if my efforts mean anything."
He pushed the continuity icon.
Detained Non-Essential Personnel Designated Prison Planet Dracus IIa Late Change Retained Under Order Gen. (Cla.s.sified) Current Location (Cla.s.sified)
And it was indeed his lucky day. For whether she lived or died, she was not there.
"Lieutenant," came a voice through thick layers. "Lieutenant. I've found a boy and he's unhurt. I don't know why but he's unhurt."
And turning, he saw there was in fact a boy, perhaps eleven years old, physically unscathed but for a look of bitter hopelessness in his dark eyes that went far beyond his years.
It seemed from the nurse's expression that he should say something so he p.r.o.nounced, What is your name?
"Elie." WIESEL, he thought. SEVEN TIMES CURSED AND SEVEN TIMES SEALED.
Then Night fell completely in his soul, and he felt no more.
ACT FOUR
Ardennes, Balthazar and Scimitar Sectors Months I through IV International Year: 2212
REVERSAL
I
The Chinese colonies, the fences of Dark, endured. Though pressed to their last utmost need, many times beyond despair, the Chinese could not be broken. Help arrived as all courage failed, and the Enemy was driven back.
The a.s.sa.s.sination of Stone did not, if that had been its purpose, intensify the Const.i.tutional crisis under which the Commonwealth labored. Its citizens, for the most part, knew Plant to be an intelligent and experienced politician. And if anything, after the disillusioning of recent events, and slow reawakening of the national conscience (though still riddled with blind-spots), most felt that their dilemma now rested in more competent hands.
But more than that, some intangible quality of the people themselves, indefinable, led the Americans at such times of crisis to rally around their leaders, united and prepared to act. Ironically, bitterly (to those who still remembered the evils of World War II), this was a German trait as well.
The entire military and intelligence-gathering forces of the nation were now mobilized to head off Hayes' disastrous charge, which had left such horrors in its wake. For now a full account of the Dracus incident had been received, and those with any conscience at all, realized that they had been party to a catastrophe that could never be set right, and whose wounds would fully never heal. And while the Americans were no more eager than any other nation to admit such atrocities---the slave trade, and the genocide of the Native Americans spring to mind---truth IS a naked sword, and its hard won freedom of the press made it impossible to deny.
But the rogue (war criminal, psychopath) had not been caught, and the Pandora's Box of chaos and violence which he (along with others) had opened, was far from contained.
II
Somehow Hayes had kept the fantasy together. Though there were stirrings of discontent among his men, and an ever diminishing number were free of a doubt that bordered on bewilderment, no word of their true position had yet reached them. And though the destructive force of the Third Fleet had not grown, neither had it sufficiently diminished. And the wounded predator is by far the most dangerous.
Hayes was desperate.
After six months of running, engaging only in minor skirmishes which could hardly be colored as 'the forward lance of democracy', of getting his information only from Hayes, Admiral Frank was tormented by uncertainty. Why was Congress still squabbling? When would reinforcements arrive? It was clear that the Soviets were astir, and what was worse, by the look of it were coming directly after them.
But more troublesome than all of this, to a loyal soldier who did not scare easily, was the thought that perhaps Hayes was not telling the whole truth---that they were being used for some scheme of his which did not entirely align with the wishes of the President.
Why did Hayes continue to deny even the most basic military communications? They had had literally no sight or sound of their fellow soldiers in five full months. Granted they fought their battles along the frontiers, where lines of communication were stretched thin, and often erased altogether by the time factor. But to be so totally isolated, to feel cut off from one's own compatriots.....
That it took Frank so long to entertain even these simple doubts, showed just how deep his military training had gone. As intended, he was no longer an individual, no longer a thinking, questioning being, but merely an instrument, a cog in a runaway machine. But despite all efforts to the contrary, even a cog has a mind.
Finally he could bear it no longer. He secured an audience with the man alone, difficult enough just that, and told him in no uncertain terms of the Fleet's need for fuel, repairs, and additional vessels to replace those lost in the fighting. He had also intended to demand access to direct communications; but the forbidding glare aroused in the hawkish face as he approached the subject, made him back off.
Insisting on a link-up with one of the American outposts would have to cover it. If something were truly amiss, surely they would find out there.
But Hayes' cunning was not yet expired. He had foreseen this. Already he had his next move planned.
"Very well, Admiral. In truth I'd been thinking along the same lines myself. There are two outposts in Scimitar, are there not? The nearer being Westmoreland station, is that correct?"
"Yes, General. Shall I alter our course in that direction?"
"By all means. Only not too straight or too fast. I want to send a Detachment there first to make sure everything is on the level. The Russians have been getting a little too close for comfort, eh?" With this his face broke into an unnatural smile.
"I know, my friend. This cannot go on much longer: radio silence, little or no action on appropriations. If we don't learn something more useful at Westmoreland, I think we may just head for home. Maybe I can get to the bottom of this myself, rattle a few cages back in Washington. Stone must be beside himself. Election year or not, they've got no right to play politics with the lives of the Third Fleet."