The Lotus Eaters

'jumps in the back of one of my squad's tracks and proceeds to spend the day with them. Observing. Teaching. The next day it was different squad, and then a different squad after that. For nine days.'

He sighed. 'If every sergeant major in the Federated States Army was like that, they'd be unbeatable.'

McNamara, embarrassed, sipped at his own drink, then said, 'It ain't t'e sergeant majors t'at won't do it. It's t'e system t'at keeps t'em chained to a desk. T'at, and t'e spare parts t'eory of personnel management.'

'You didn't let the system chain you,' Carrera said.

'I was so freakin' senior, t'ey couldn't make me do anyt'ing. Hell, t'ey tried to make me division sergeant major and I told 'em to stuff it. Hard to control someone who got no ambition for anything t'ey can give.'

Outside, Jinfeng the trixie gave off a loud warning screech.

'Even so . . . what the fuck was that?'

* * *

'Now!' Moises Rocaberti ordered, lowering his submachine gun and firing a burst into the bird whose screeching head stuck up above one of the bushes flanking the main entrance. Immediately four of his men, standing under windows, propelled two more through those windows and into the house. The distant sound of crashing glass told of similar maneuvers around the back. Two men standing by Moises pulled back the door knocker—a welded steel battering ram—and slammed it into the door, once—cachang—twice— cachang—thrice . . . and the door burst open.

By twos a mass of men flooded through the door, each careful to avoid the cooling bodies of guards silently slain when the attackers had first left the first van. This mass split off, some turning into the living room, some ascending the steps, and some racing for the back part of the house.

Resistance was over before it could be said to have begun.

* * *

Lourdes screamed.

'Shut up, whore!' Moises ordered, his gaze lingering for a moment on Lourdes' milk-swollen breasts. 'Patricio Carrera, aka, Patrick Hennessey, you are under arrest for . . . hmmm . . . do we have the evidence?'

'Outside in the van,' one of the policemen reported. 'I didn't see the point of bothering to bring it into the house.'

'Very good. You are under arrest for war crimes, crimes against humanity, election fraud, and narcotrafficking. All over the country forces are moving to get rid of your people. You're finished.'

'Piece of shit!' Carrera twisted in the arms of the men cuffing him and received a cuff in turn for his troubles. To two other of his men the younger Rocaberti said, 'Escort the puta upstairs. Make sure her kids are accounted for.' He pointed at Artemisia and said, 'And take this one to a different room.'

'Fuck you, you bastard,' Arti sneered. Moises slapped her to the floor. That was too much for McNamara. He'd been standing with his hands up, in front of the fireplace. He turned immediately and grabbed the old sword Lourdes had purchased for Carrera. Before he could well turn around, one of the police fired a burst into his midsection, tossing him forward and into the fireplace.

Lourdes pulled away from the hands gripping her and ran to pull Mac away from the fire, kneeling on the floor and keening besides him.

'Never mind, Lourdes,' Mac said, weakly. 'This is a better end than any I'd hoped for.'

What can I DO? Her eyes pleaded.

Whatever you must, his own answered back. Anything. Then McNamara closed his eyes. He could feel the life pouring out of him. 'Take care of Arti for me, Miss Lourdes,' he said, at the end.

'Get this twat upstairs,' Moises repeated. 'And carry the new widow off, too.' To Lourdes he added, 'Get into something more comfortable and easier to get out of.'

Fort Cameron, Balboa, Terra Nova

In his analysis of the problem, Pigna had come to the conclusion that there was only one force really capable of intervening in the city. All the others—barring only the troops in the jungles of La Palma—would take from hours to days to mobilize and move against his 7th Legion. The troops in the jungle would take even longer.

But the Volgans . . . they're the only real threat to my operations. They're here; they're trained; they're organized. Let them loose and my legion would collapse like a house of cards as soon as any of them came to understand what is happening, beyond the handful I brought into the plan last night. Most of them are just following orders to secure the city and do certain things that they think come from Carrera.

Got to neutralize the Volgans.

With that in mind, he got out of his mule and walked the fifty odd concrete steps to the Volgan commander's quarters, the two moons cancelling out his shadow. He mounted the stairs and knocked. A somewhat plump Volgan woman answered the door, then turned and called something in a language he assumed was Russian. The man he recognized as Samsonov came to the door quickly.

'Legate Samsonov,' Pigna began.

'Legate Pigna.'

'I just wanted to let you know I've received orders from Carrera to do some very odd things in the city. My legion is already moving, by vehicle and on foot, to secure certain vital assets and critical facilities.'

'War with the Taurans?' Samsonov asked. The prospect didn't seem to worry him overmuch.

'No,' Pigna shook his head in negation. 'At least I don't think so. Frankly, I'm not sure what Carrera has in mind. Though he insisted we break out and issue our basic load of ammunition.'