'CAZADOR' spelled in bold, gold letters. A safety pin ran through the tab. Olivetti unlocked the safety pin, grabbed Cruz's sleeve near the shoulder, and drove the pin into the emaciated flesh beneath before withdrawing it, pushing it through the cloth, and hooking it back onto itself. Cruz controlled his flinch. What's a little more pain, after all?
'Good job, Cruz.' Olivetti held out his hand.
'Thank you, Centurion. You, too.' Cruz shook the hand with real feeling.
Olivetti passed on to Montoya.
Montoya smiled. 'Blood tab, Centurion.' He held his smile as the point pierced him.
'You're a shithead, Montoya. But you're a damn fine soldier. Congratulations.'
When the last of the tabs had been awarded, Broughton returned to the reviewing stand. 'Pass in review!'
Without further fanfare, the platoons faced right and began to double time past the reviewing stand. They only dropped to a walk when the last of them had passed. The students-no, full fledged Cazadors now-began to sing as they walked back to barracks.
Once he arrived back in Las Mesas, Cruz was very pleased to discover that his impotence was only temporary. Caridad was very pleased, as well.
Interlude
15 June, 2104 (Terra Novan Year 45 AC), Atlantis Base
The acting commander of Atlantis base was at wits' end. High Admiral Annan was gone; reported dead. The Marines and shuttle he had borrowed were gone as well and he had to presume them to be dead or captured, likewise the Supervisory Office in Balboa colony. He had no more Marines to spare. He had no more shuttles and only three helicopters. And until a new ship came in system he had no way of getting any more, either.
It was bad enough that Anglia colony, for now, reported only to its home government back on Earth. No one ever expected anything different from the stinking Americans beginning to fill up Southern Columbia, or indeed anyone from Earth's Anglosphere except for the people settling Secordia. But the colonies from the Earth's Third World? These were supposed and expected to stand by the UN, to toe its line, to build one-world government here to match the one building back home. Otherwise, Terra Nova would become just another twentieth-century Earth. And that, the acting commander knew, spelled danger.
'Commander?' an aide broke in, giving the honorific despite doubt about whether the title would become permanent. 'News from our office in San Jose colony. They're under attack by hundreds of men armed with modern weapons.'
'Shit!'
'It gets worse, Commander. The rebels are broadcasting from the radio station at our Balboa office-what used to be our Balboa office-calling on everyone to 'throw off Earth's chains.' And we have little or nothing to stop it.'
That bastard, Annan, the acting commander thought. He could have bought all the little girls he wanted from the Yithrab, or even bought them from Earth at one of the open markets and brought them here. But nooo, the cheap son of a bitch had to go outside channels and avoid paying the little bit asked for. God save me from hereditary bureaucrats and their offspring. Now I get to sit, helpless, while the world we wanted to construct here falls apart around me.
'Can we contact the leader of the… rebels?'
The aide thought about that for a minute. 'He's probably directing the attack in San Jose colony, sir. We can probably contact him after he's finished storming it.'
'Great,' the acting commander muttered, leaning his weary head down to rest it in his hands. 'Advise the office in San Jose to surrender. Tell them to ask him to speak with me. Maybe I can make a deal to keep this from spreading.'
' Comandante, ' Pedro said, 'the Earthpigs want to talk to you. They want to arrange a ceasefire before this war spreads.'
Belisario considered. Should I? I could stop the carnage now, probably. But then, what prevents them from using the bases they retain to come back? What do I owe my fellow colonists languishing under the heel of the UN Birkenstock? How will my wife and our children ever sleep safely with slavers and tax gatherers hovering at the edges of our domain?
'Tell the pig to kiss my ass, Pedro,' Belisario answered. 'The war goes on until we are, all of us, free.'
XIV.
Resolution 4999 (2127)
Adopted by the Security Council on its 16128th meeting,
On 1 June, 2127
The Security Council,
Recalling its previous resolutions, in particular resolution 4547 of 2107 and 4569 of 2108, concerning the situation off world among the colonies of Terra Nova,
Reaffirming its commitment to peace, prosperity and freedom as expressed and implied in the Charter,
Welcoming a just resolution to the ongoing conflicts on the planet of Terra Nova,
Acknowledging the difficulties inherent in administering and securing a world light years away,
Reiterating in the strongest terms its desire to accord self-determination to all mankind,
Stressing the importance of the recent peace accords between itself and various insurgent governments and movements on Terra Nova,
Welcoming the joint communique between its representatives on Terra Nova and the representatives of the United Front for the Liberation of New Earth,
Expressing its continuing responsibility toward the peoples of that world and its firm commitment to their continuing welfare,
Determining that the maintenance of its rule on the world of Terra Nova is beyond its abilities,
1) Retires its offices and security facilities to its base on the Island of Atlantis on the new world,
2) Requests a cease fire from all still-engaged armed or political agencies, governments, organizations and movements on the new world.
3) Reiterates its request for prisoner of war exchange and repatriation,
4) Directs the redesignation of its fleet around the new world as the United Nations Peace Fleet, to be further renamed the United Earth Peace Fleet at such time as the General Assembly may direct, and
5) Declares the conflict on the new world to be at an end.
Chapter Thirty We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth,
We are dropping down the ladder rung by rung, -Kipling, 'Gentlemen Rankers'
Ninewa, Sumer, 10/5/462 AC
Fadeel al Nizal's problems had multiplied. On the plus side, though, at least Mustafa was no longer one of them. If anything, the relationship had reversed itself with Fadeel becoming a major financial supporter of the rest of the movement and Mustafa being along mostly for a distant form of moral support. Not that the movement didn't have money. It had a great deal, most of it untouchable for the infidel accountants who watched for the slightest excuse to freeze suspicious accounts. Even Fadeel had lost money that way.
He'd have gladly accepted a great deal more of Mustafa's former chiding if he could have eliminated some of the other things bearing down upon him.
For a while it had seemed that the willing cooperation of the Kosmos-the cosmopolitan progressives who believed in one-world government, under themselves- were the answer to most of his prayers. With the money gained from the crusader governments with the progressives' cooperation, his organization had flown as high as the aircraft he had managed to bring down early on in the campaign.
For a while, rather than having to listen to lectures from Mustafa, Fadeel had found himself in a position to repay the start-up money he'd received and even to make a substantial gift to his principle. That gift had been gratefully received, Mustafa having fallen upon rather hard times. Moreover, he'd managed to knock one crusader
