The Lotus Eaters

Major Rojas was waiting with Carrera and Parilla. Only Parilla was standing, as Carrera's beating had been long and thorough. His face was a swollen, mottled ruin, nose twisted to one side, one ear half detached where a boot had scoured it. His lips were split and a couple of teeth had gone missing.

Volgan infantry poured off the rapidly opened clamshell doors at the backs of three Legion helicopters. Their bayonets were fixed and there was blood in their eyes. Parilla moved directly in front of Rojas, who was trying his best not to soil his trousers.

'Leave this one and his men alone,' Parilla shouted. 'There are two bound prisoners in the lower level. Bring them to me alive.'

Lourdes had followed on the heels of the infantry. One look at Carrera, lying on a stretcher, had her sprinting for his side and throwing herself over him, sobbing and wailing at the damage done to the man she loved.

'What have they done to you, Patricio, my very dearest.'

'Nozink . . . goo . . . I t'ink,' he got out through bloody, swollen lips. 'Lon' tahm wit' t'e den'is' for me, nu.'

'Thank God, at least you're still alive.' She had her arms around Carrera's body, her face pressed against his neck. Carrera, too, had his arms around her, but was too weak to hold very tightly. He assumed she didn't kiss him because his lips were such a ruin.

'Roca'er'i tol' me 'ee ha' somewhu 'ape you. I swear 'ee'll pay, Lour'es.'

She hesitated a moment, collecting her thoughts, then backed off to look in his eyes. 'I wasn't raped, Patricio.' Which is the truth if not the whole truth. 'I'm fine.' Also something less than the truth.

Carrera twisted his head. 'Rau'?'

'Here, Patricio,' Parilla answered.

'Don' le' anywhu execu'e t'e bas'ar's, please? No' ye'.'

'Of course, my friend.'

Carrera stirred again. 'Lour'es, wha' abou' Mac?'

'He . . . he died, Patricio. And Linda's trixie, Jinfeng, too, was killed for trying to give us warning.'

After that, Carrera couldn't speak for a very long time. When he did, it was to say, 'Ah'm goin' to crucify t'em all.'

Academia Militar Sergento Juan Malvegui, Puerto Lindo, Balboa, Terra Nova

Maria Munoz had asked Chapayev to bring her to the school chapel as soon as they'd arrived from Fort Williams. She wanted to pray for her father and his men, she'd told him. Now, while he waited in a pew in the back, she, on her knees, talked with her God.

And, Heavenly Father, the girl prayed, after taking care of familial and regimental duties, please forgive me for being a vile, rude, nasty bitch to Victor Chapayev. He saved my father, and quite possibly myself, and I promise to be a much nicer girl to him than I've ever been in the past. She crossed herself and began to stand, but then went back to her knees again.

Which is not to say, O Lord, that I won't have to come here and beg forgiveness for myself for some of the very nice things I intend to do for him. First, though . . .

Ciudad Balboa Beach, Balboa, Terra Nova

The conspirators had been tried by the full Senate. For the main ones, the ones about whom there could be no doubt of their guilt, the trial hadn't taken long. The sentences had been something of a surprise.

Rocaberti was first in the procession, a wooden timber over his shoulder and iron chains about his ankles. Behind him came his own two rump vice-presidents, Pigna, his chief of police for the old city, Barletta, the entire set of teams who had captured Carrera and Parilla—such as could be taken alive, the one survivor of those who had tried to grab Munoz-Infantes, and about three score of the remnants of Rocaberti's police force, excepting only those Rojas had bargained for. Armed men, legionaries, not Volgans, marched to either side. Closer in, still other legionaries used cattle prods liberally.

Along the beach nearly one hundred stout posts had been driven into the sand and wedged in securely. The posts had U-shaped, steel fixtures attached. Unsurprisingly, these were of a shape and size to accommodate the beams carried by the condemned.

Pigna was almost unique in the party in that he didn't weep along the short march from the prison to the beach. For this reason, Carrera, seated on a wheel chair, pointed to him and said, 'This traitor first.'

Pigna was seized, striped down to shorts, and his arms were bound together at the wrists. His beam was placed in the U-shaped fixture. Then he was hoisted up, his bound hands hooked over the upright, and allowed to drop. This hurt, but not enough to raise a cry. Indeed, he said not a word until his ankles were pulled into position and first steel spike was driven through into the wood below.

After that, Pigna cried more than had most of the others. At least until their turns came to be hooked over and nailed up.

The TV cameras caught all of it.

* * *

Rocaberti's turn came last. 'Why?' was all the ex-president could come up with.

Carrera had healed enough, and had enough dental work done, to speak easily.