posted 06-13-99 11:31 PM ET     

I pondered Miriam's words. Yes I had sworn the standard mercenary oath of loyalty, which she had released me from, but after those years in New Jerusalem I felt no affinity for Santiago and her troops, even if the Spartans had signed Pact with the Believers.

The Believers were my people. They were family. My Gwynneth had been one of them.

I took stock of the situation.

I was a merc, trained to fight and the equal of any fighting unit currently on Planet. If somewhat lacking in the latest weaponry or armor, I was more than a match as regards versatility and experience.

I plotted my campaign.

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I stood in the shadows in the now occupied New Jerusalem, between the Recycling Tanks and the Children' Creche. Clouds were covering Nessus and Pholus, and the street lighting had not yet been restored after the artillery bombardments. The shadows were deep and concealing.

I waited.

My infrared sensory implants picked up the image of a soldier coming down the alleyway between the buildings. It was a University Lieutenant. I activated my right arm weapons pod and selected a laser knife.

As he approached, I struck. One arm around his neck, and the other holding the knife to his temple I rasped:

"Where are they holding Sister Miriam and her elders?"

He was struggling - but no match for my boosted strength - and snarled an obscenity at me.

I activated the blade, and removed his right ear.

Into his good ear I rasped "If you want to hear your grandchildren chatter, speak now."

He gave up struggling. "In the Barracks ruins", he said, "we've placed a holding cell there. Now let me find my ear and go and get it reattached."

"You can go", I said, "to the recycling tanks."

Smothering his scream, I moved the laser blade across his throat. I pulled the inert body deeper into the shadows. I couldn't risk the alarm being raised.

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The Barracks was my territory.

I moved confidently in the night's darkness to the munitions depot at the rear of the barracks. Under seal was the armor and weaponry for the new recruits that had been in training when the University artillery and infantry had broken through.

I hoped that the codes hadn't been changed since my departure. They hadn't. I activated the locks, stemming the alarm before it triggered, and I was inside.

Collecting some pieces that seemed useful, and one or two that I felt to be indispensable, I left, carefully resetting the alarm and locking the shed.

I left the barracks and loped over to the usually guarded building that housed The Merchant Exchange. While I regretted the destruction of a Special Project we had labored hard to complete - and I was proud of my part in it - I needed the diversion to be as massive as possible.

I reached into the small haversack I had picked up in the barracks, and carefully extracted one of the abdominal sac implants - small tactical nuclear weapons intended to be neurally willed to detonate when the scout unit had reached the end of his or her resources, and kamikazi was the only option. I myself was fitted with one. I knew that until implanted, and wired to the scout's neural net, they were just ordinary small tactical nukes. I was able to program them with a short time delay, and placed one at each of the four corners of the Merchant Exchange.

I moved over to the vehicle pool. The two guards on duty were enjoying a fungal reefer, paying little attention to their duties. I willed a fletch gun into each hand, and with unerring aim dropped the guards where they stood. I selected a rover and moved it to the Base perimeter.

Loping back to the Barracks, I cautiously entered through a rent in the wall, and observed. There were three guards idly sitting playing cards, ignoring the occupants of the hastily built cell.

In the cell sat Sister Miriam; Brother Joaquim, the Chief Science Officer; Sister Beatrice, the Chancellor of the Exchequer; Brother Charles, the Chief Engineer, all awaiting transportation to UN Headquarters.

My heart skipped a beat. There in a corner sat Gwynneth - she must have escaped the destruction of her former, and been captured.

They were engaged in prayer. Sister Miriam was leading it.

"And, Lord, bless those that will revile us and torture us, and give us the grace to bear witness to You under this interrogation. They know not what they do. They are but ignorant savages blinded by their gos of science. Give us strength, oh Lord, to not waver in our convictions or in our service to You." They reached out and held hands, to provide mutual reinforcement to each other.

The explosions were staggered by two seconds, deafening, as the nukes detonated. My fletch darts caught the three guards as they rose in surprise, sending them crumpling to the floor. In a bound I was at the lock to the temporary cell.

"Get back." I yelled. They leapt to the opposite corner, but not before the two women I loved most recognized me and shouted my name.

"Sven," said Miriam, a speculative gleam in her eyes, "I might have misjudged you. I thought you were not a believer at heart". Then she saw where my eyes were looking, and understood.

Just one word, but it held all the promise and reward that made my risking my life seem inconsequential:

"Sven, you came back", said Gwynneth.

The bolts blew from the small detonator I fixed to the lock, and I hustled them out of the barracks.

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Outside it was bedlam. University Garrison troops were running to the Merchant Exchange building to help douse the flames. Citizens were milling around. The vehicle pool was unguarded.

I was herding my small group to the perimeter area where I had secreted the rover, but Miriam was having none of it.

"Sven", she said, "they are my people. In the confusion many of them can escape."

I was torn. She was so right. There was ample time - and opportunity - for many to grab vehicles and escape with us, but only a few could drive. I was consumed with getting my charges to safety, especially Gwynneth. One of Miriam's sermons came to mind 'I was lost and now I am found'. I dithered.

Sister Miriam made up my mind for me.

"Brethren and Sisters", she shouted in that stentorian voice that commanded attention. "Sven here has provided the means for us to escape and start afresh. Those of you that want to, make your way to the vehicle pool and commandeer a rover, and head south. We will rendezvous at a monolith about fifteen clicks from here. Those that want to stay here, do so. We shall think none the less of you for that choice."

The crowd coalesced into two camps. The smaller group made their way to the motor pool., the larger heading over to the Merchant Exchange to observe the firefighting progress. "God Bless you all" said Sister Miriam to their departing backs.

Brother Charles spoke up: "Sven, I need to go to the vehicle pool to help out. These rovers are cumbersome beasts, and our people will stand a better chance of escaping with a qualified driver."

With that he peeled away from us and sprinted over to the group heading for the vehicle pool.

"He's right, you know," said Gwynneth., "and I'm a certified driver too."

She stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on my grizzled cheek. "See you at the monolith."

She left to join the evacuees. My heart tore. Was I to lose her again?

"Any more?" I asked quizzically. Brother Joaquim and Sister Beatrice looked at each other, shrugged, and said in unison. "We're certified too." And left.

I looked at Miriam.

"Let's go", I said, "and let's make a fresh start. This time, though, you will listen to me. More than one base, easily defensible, and I will consent to be your Chief Military Advisor, if the offer is still open".

Sister Miriam looked at me speculatively. "Any other conditions?", she asked.

"Do you still want revenge on Zakharov?" I asked.

posted 06-14-99 02:12 AM ET         

We moved south in a loose convoy, leaving the beautiful spires of New Jerusalem silhouetted against the glow from the still burning Merchant Exchange. Not once did Sister Miriam look back.

There was no pursuit, partly because Brother Joaquim had sabotaged all the vehicles that were not being used by our group, and partly because I had given the electronic combination code to some young zealots. They had armed themselves and were fighting a rearguard action to allow us time to make our gateway.

We set up an interim camp at the base of the monolith, and waited there as arranged for others to rendezvous with us. I took the opportunity to catch up with the news since I had left on my search for the monolith. Gwynneth snuggled up to me and filled in the details.

"How did you escape?" I asked her.

"Oh, it was easy," she replied, "I put the former on automatic, and slid out, sending it right at the artillery unit. They panicked somewhat as the huge lumbering machine came at them, but they did destroy it eventually. I sent out a distress call on my comm-link to say goodbye just in case they were monitoring communications, to let them think I had died in the barrage, and then snuck back to base. I was rounded up when I was reporting events to Sister Miriam - they must have thought me someone important and locked me up with the Elders."

"Thank Heaven for that" I said, taking both her hands in my calloused fingers. "I thought you were dead." I struggled for the right words� "It was the bleakest moment of my life�.such an empty feeling, thinking I would never see you again. Then when I saw you in the barracks cell�"

"Ssshhh�" she said, putting her fingers to my lips. "We're together again now, that's all that matters."

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Sister Miriam convened a meeting of the Elders of her emaciated flock. We numbered fewer than 500 of the almost seven thousand inhabitants of New Jerusalem, but had a good cross section of skills and age groups. I was introduced as the new Commanding Officer, and Miriam asked for my opinion as to what we should do.

"Well", I began, "our knowledge of Chiron is very spotty. We never did explore much beyond our base perimeter, maybe 30 clicks in each direction. We know the University is to the north, and an ocean to the east. The south is an unknown to us, but if the land is contiguous, it is my opinion that Zakharov will chase us there. I think we need to reach the ocean, construct boats, and make our way to an island or small continent to start afresh."

"Isn't that risky?" asked Beatrice. "Sailing into the unknown is quite stupid in my opinion. We should just continue our march south. We know from the Spartans, our pact sisters, that the University bases are all to the north of us."

Sister Miriam looked around. She let that soft gaze rest briefly on each, looking into our thoughts, searching for the hidden secrets of each of us, it seemed.

She said; "I cannot coerce you to follow me. If you return to New Jerusalem, you will be welcomed back. Zakharov has no quarrel with any of you. It is me that he hates. You didn't know this, but he steadfastly tried to block my appointment as Chaplain to the Unity mission, and almost had me killed after the Unity broke up and we were prematurely brought out of cryosleep. No, my brothers and sisters, it is me he wants, and I would think none the less of you if you want to return. I agree with Sven. We must take to the ocean."

Sister Miriam put the matter to a vote. We elected to go the ocean route. Sister Beatrice and about 100 others elected to return to New Jerusalem, depleting our small commune's numbers even more.

I asked to speak to Sister Miriam privately.

"I think I have a way of collecting some intelligence about the ocean's coverage and the various landmasses, and their status." I said. "I didn't want to sway the vote in case nothing comes of it."

I told Sister Miriam my plan.

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Sparta Command
Mindworm Patrol Unit 4
Foxtrot Sector

The comm-link beeped insistently. Scout commander Charlie Evans cursed inwardly. They were on the track on a big one, and if destroyed would mean bonus credits for him and Carter. A capture would be even more valuable, but they had been unable to effect a capture yet.

He flicked on the comm-link.

The message was a visual. That itself was unusual. It was flashing across the screen:

**Urgent, Urgent. Code 1171. Acknowledge. Enter Password**

"What the heck was a code 1171", he wondered. "And what password.

"Carter", he yelled to his buddy out on foot ahead of the rover. "Get over here quick"

Carter looked up. "What's up Charlie?" He had deployed his flameguns, one in each hand, as they swept the fungus for mindworms. He loped over to the rover.

"What the heck's a code 1171?" asked Evans. "You heard of it?"

"Yup", was the gruff response. "Gimme that".

Carter took the comm-link, and spoke into it.

"It takes two to tango. Over"

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I breathed a sigh of relief.

"And one to cut in." I gave the counterphrase. "Who am I connected to?"

We exchanged identities. The 1171 code was the number of recruits from among the mercs that had been taken on the Unity mission. Most of us had been recruited by either Yang or Santiago as security forces, but several were independents with Morgan or, presumably, the other factions. Before entering cryosleep, we had forged a sort of 'Brotherhood of the Mercs' and agreed that in dire emergencies we could send out a general 'code 1171' call and if another merc was listening we could get immediate help.

I explained the situation. Carter didn't have much of an idea, nor did Evans. He did have, though, the comm-link frequency for a Morgan merc attached to a naval unit. He passed it on to me.

I dialed, and got the information I needed.

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I briefed Sister Miriam that evening.

"There is a small island to the south east, close by are the Peacekeepers to the north of it and the Morganites to the west. It is uninhabited. My contact reckons it might eventually support eight or so bases, not much more."

"How do we get there?" she asked pragmatically.

"CEO Morgan is prepared to send a transport to lift us off this landmass and take us there." I replied.

Miriam's face grimaced. "I would rather not. The man disgusts me with his relentless pursuit of wealth at all costs. Are there any alternatives?"

"I replied: "I'm afraid not Miriam. Sometimes you just have to swallow your pride and hold your nose and proceed. It's not only the best offer we have, it's the only offer."

"I suppose so", she said dejectedly. "Is he imposing any conditions?"

I was afraid she'd ask that. "Yes, Sister", I replied, "he has. You must immediately pronounce Vendetta against the Gaians. It appears that CEO Morgan and Lady Deirdre Skye do not get along."

Sister Miriam's lip curled. "That Bitch", she snarled, taking me somewhat aback. "She was all lovey-dovey in Council to get my votes to elect her Planetary Governor, and was more than willing to loan me credits at usurious interest rates, but would she lift a finger to help? No, she wouldn't. Even stopped taking my comm-link transmissions. I'll gladly take Morgan's side against that fanatical tree-hugging worm lover. Spends all her time with that weird musician Vel� something. Now he's a funny one.."

I cut into her diatribe. "Sister Miriam, we must respond if we are to escape. Shall I signal for the rendezvous?"

She calmed down somewhat.

"Go ahead" she said, "get us off this god-forsaken continent."

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The rendezvous went as planned, and the trip was smooth.

During the trip, we discussed tactics. I was adamant that we should build more than one base, as soon as circumstances permitted. I pointed out to Sister Miriam that if we had originally more than one base, we would have been able to withstand Zakharov more readily. She was inclined to agree.

We made landfall about halfway up the western shore of an elongated island, about 25 clicks by 12.

posted 06-14-99 09:19 PM ET         

Zion was beautiful in the evenings.

Situated on a small bay whose shores were gently lapped by the tides produced by Chiron�s twin moons, it faced west, across the sea to where the distant hills of the Morgan territory could be seen. When the gravitational pull of Nessus and Pholus combined, the tides became significant, but for the most part, the rise and fall was gently soothing. The base itself rose gently up from the shoreline as you traveled east, until a few clicks away you were standing atop a large plateau we had dubbed The Sunny Mesa.

When the suns were setting was a particularly evocative time, as the long shadows were cast up the hillside and the yellow reflections cast by the setting Alpha Centauri prime shimmered over the water towards us. The orange orb that was Hercules grew fainter as Planet turned slowly on its axis until it too disappeared below the horizon. The alien colors were beautiful, with the ocean a rich azure blue. Patches of the native kelp could be seen swaying gently in the current, glistening in the suns rays. Chiron�s winds had usually calmed by then, and it was a time for relaxation and reflection by our small community. On rare days when the twin moons were aligned, we could see two touching crescents, with blackness between. It truly was an awe inspiring sight that caused Sister Miriam to pause and marvel afresh at the manifest glory of the Lord�s creation.

One of the first buildings we had constructed was the Temple � a small chapel, really, with a modest spire that rose about three times my height into the sky. It was situated on a small ridge on the hillside, with the altar positioned at its west end, so that when the citizens knelt they were facing the ocean. The ocean from whence had come our salvation.

(Cynically, I thought, facing the Morgan empire, from whence had come our salvation.)

There was a small plaza in front of the Temple that served as a general meeting place for the Base�s inhabitants, and a favorite pastime was to sit on the temple steps on these quiet evenings and contemplate our deliverance.

With so few, the eldership was not really active. Sister Miriam presided over a communal meeting where everyone was able and encouraged to speak their minds. This after all was a new beginning where free thought and discussion were the norm. The old days, where Sister Miriam had been transcendent, ruling with an iron fist in a velvet glove, were gone. She referred to herself now as a thinker, one of many, with no one voice predominating. Oh, she was still our leader. Her own charisma would ensure that. But she had been humbled by the experience. It was of that we talked, one evening, sitting on the Temple steps, watching the suns set.

___________________________________________________________________________________

�Tell me, Sven�, she asked, �was I so wrong to be so idealistic? I thought that if we built New Jerusalem as a monument to the glory of the Lord, a beacon of His righteousness, that people would flock to us from all over Planet. The only people attracted to us were Zakharov�s troops.�

I laid a gentle hand on her arm. I dwarfed her physically, with my genetically enhanced limbs and torso, and my muscular forearms bulging with their implanted weaponry. She was frailer than I had remembered when first I saw her, and with a touch more gray in her hair.

�No,� I responded, �you were not wrong. It is never wrong to be idealistic. But idealism must be tinged with realism, and in my opinion it was unrealistic to expect to survive and prosper with just one base. I said so at the time, and I still think so. We need to separate as soon as possible to build a second � and a third and fourth � here before much longer.�

�But we are so few,� she said �and I fear that if we divide we will be the weaker for it. Together we will grow strong, ensuring our survival. Divided we will fall to the first faction that quarrels with us. And don�t forget that the price of our redemption is vendetta against the witch Deirdre and her worm loving followers.�

I conjured up a mental map of Planet. �But she is halfway across Planet,� I said, and by the time she comes calling we will be stronger. Already the Morgan technicians are talking about sharing scientific discoveries and weapons technology. And,� I added somewhat cynically, �if you preach a procreation sermon all your followers will rush home to have sex and start families. And don�t forget the power of your sermons and the allure of your faith. Some of the Morganite people have been seen in the Temple during your services, as have some of the Peacekeepers from up north. Convert a few of these and we will add population quickly.�

She turned her gaze on me, her eyes probing into my very soul. They were of a deeper blue than the azure color of the ocean itself. I returned her gaze levelly. I would not be browbeaten by this woman. Had I not earned the right to be listened to, having rescued her from certain death?

�Sven, Sven.� she said. �So cynical for one so young. But such wisdom too. I am not afraid to admit that I was wrong, pigheaded almost. That came to me as I awaited shipment to University Base for questioning and torture. I was afraid � yes, we all were. Would I be able to withstand the pain of torturing? Would I be like Peter and betray my Lord to the atheistic antichrist? And what of my people? Poor weak Beatrice, who would rather have the good life than that of the ascetic. How would she have survived torture? And Gwynneth. Escaped from the University troops only to be captured along with me. And Jessica. She will be my successor some day. Such faith, such devotion. Such common sense. And such an empathy for Planet.

�We will commission another base be built, in the north quadrant of the island. You will set out in the morning with twenty five of our faithful and select a good site, easily defensible. And take Gwynneth with you. She will make a good Base Administrator.�