My Own Kind of Freedom by Steven Brust (ebook reader color screen txt) 📖

>“Sweetie, having you here instead of me sort of defeats the purpose of—wait. What did Jayne do?”

“Nothing as far as I know. But I think the Captain is afraid Jayne is going to tell the feds about Simon and River.”

“Oh. I see. So, if we’re lucky, we’ll hear about it soon enough to get off this planet without getting paid.”

Zoë exhaled. “Wash, what do you want?”

“Well, a vacation would be nice.”

“Wash … .”

“And it would be even nicer not to have this feeling that everything is about to fall apart on us.”

“Wash.”

He sighed. “All right.”

“Want something to eat?”

“That would be—Hey!”

“What?”

As the chatter came from his headphones, he adjusted the gain and dropped the filtering. With his other hand he slapped the “record” button, then switched on the intercom. “Mal, I’m getting something.”

Chapter 3 My Own Kind of Past

Nine years previous

Bursa leaned forward. “You’d keep your present rank,” he said.

“That’s not that big an inducement,” said Mal.

“Ah. Then I suppose it wouldn’t help that you’d be in line for promotion.”

“No.”

“Even if you get a nice fancy office like this?”

Mal looked around at the paper-thin walls of the cubby-hole. “Huh,” he said.

The Colonel’s face was long, bony, and pale. His nose had been broken at least once, and there was a long white scar running from his right ear to just below his chin. He wore brown, with the Independents’ lieutenant colonel insignia on his shoulders—wide shoulders for his frame, giving him a sort of scarecrow appearance. His feet stuck out from under the little desk.

Mal felt himself being studied. “Okay,” said the Colonel. “Well, the point remains. The nature of the war has changed. Units like yours were useful when they were all we had. The war was sprung on us like, um, like something that springs on you. Little detachments kept them slowed down until we could—”

“I know the—”

“Don’t interrupt, Sergeant.”

Mal’s jaw clenched.

Bursa continued, “Until we could organize, recruit, and prepare. Now, every time one of your little bands is rampaging through an area the army is in, it interferes with the operations of the army. You’re doing more harm than good now, Sergeant.”

“So you say.”

“So I say.” The Colonel frowned. “What’s the problem, anyway?”

Mal stared at a spot over the Colonel’s shoulder. “If I had wanted to take orders from everyone who likes giving orders, I wouldn’t be fighting the Alliance in the first place, would I?”

Bursa let out a breath. “Okay. I can see that. I can even respect it. But the fight is on. You want to win?”

“I’d been planning on it.”

“Me, too. We want to defeat the Alliance. We need regular, organized forces. Bands like yours are harming us. Those who won’t join us will have to be suppressed.”

“Suppressed.”

“Would you prefer I used a more graphic term? You know what I mean.”

“I surely do.”

“So, tomorrow morning, you and yours swear in to the regular army.”

“What if we move to a different sector, where you people haven’t gotten to yet? We can still—”

“No, Sergeant. I’m sorry.”

Mal clenched his teeth.

“Sergeant, I think you can give good service. We can use you. Whatever you might think about the regular army, we are organized now, and we’re fighting your fight.”

“I’ll have trouble bringing some of the boys around.”

“Trouble makers?”

“A few. But mostly they’re like me. They signed up to fight against what I’m asking them to do.”

“Good to know you’ve identified the problem.”

“Yeah, well—”

“Sergeant, they’ll do it if they want to win, because that’s the only way we can win. If they don’t want the Alliance sticking their noses up the ass of anyone who wants to carve out a place for himself, then they’re going to have to come around.”

“It’s just that some of them can tear me apart.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“And they aren’t easily controlled.”

“I imagine.”

“So what do you do?”

“You mean, how do you face down someone who’s bigger and meaner than you and doesn’t want to do what you’re telling him to?”

“Yeah. Up till now, it’s been about convincing them.”

“Well, I’d like to say something glib like, don’t let them know they’re bigger and meaner than you, but, really it isn’t that simple. There isn’t any simple answer to that. You can’t back down, but you know that.”

“I surely do.”

“How you handle it depends on the individual, and the situation. But, Sergeant—”

“Yes, Colonel?”

“That’s not one of the things I’m worried about. You’ll find a way.”

“And those who won’t be convinced?”

“They can give up their weapons and go their way.”

“All right.”

“And if they act as unauthorized guerillas, they’ll be treated as common brigands, and we’ll shoot them.”

“Colonel—”

“We can’t have it, Sergeant.”

Mal sighed. “Can they at least keep their sidearms?”

“No.”

“Most of those are their own personal weapons.”

“Why are we still arguing about what’s been decided? Is there anything else?”

After a moment, Mal said, “All right … sir. I’ll have my people here in the morning.”

Bursa nodded. “And by the afternoon, you’ll be in Lieutenant Siro’s platoon, at point on the road north of Yeranton.”

“Trying to get us killed right away, sir?”

“Nope. I don’t need you killed, I need to keep the Alliance out of Yeranton, so they don’t swallow up the one munitions plant we can count on in this gorram world. I need them kept out of there, Sergeant.”

“All right. We’ll do our part.”

“I know. Pick up a coat and a rifle on your way out.”

“I have a rifle.”

“Pick up a new one.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eighteen months previous

The silky voice said, “Let’s try it again, Miss Tam.”

The silky voice always called her ‘Miss Tam.’ The sweet voice and the monotonous voice called her “River.” The silky voice was the worst.

As it spoke, her skin tingled and colors danced in little spots before her eyes—colors that sounded deep and threatening and tasted of salt and gun metal.

“Now, Miss Tam, bring the lines together.”

Only there weren’t any lines, there were only dots.

“Focus on the lines, Miss Tam.”

Something twisted inside of her head, and the dots became gray, their sizes pulsated, and she was falling, falling, falling into them.

She tried to scream, but there was something in her mouth.

She fell through one of the dots, which splintered and became infinite.

She wished she could scream.

Eight years previous

He hated this.

No, he really, really hated this.

The flying part was fine. He had no trouble with the flying part. He liked the flying part.

It was the part where people kept shooting at him that he had a problem with.

And then there was the ship. He wasn’t fond of the ship. In general, the Vortec LC 9 “Gopher” was a fine mid-to low-level interceptor: fast and maneuverable in lower atmo once you learned her tricks, decently armed, and with truly astonishing vertical acceleration. But he just couldn’t be happy flying a ship with a third of a wing and both rudders shot off by a SAM that had also taken out half her thrust.

“Pioneer Blue six. Mayday, mayday. Have taken hit from surface to air missile, am going down. Stand-by for location. Transmitting …now.”

His weapons man’s voice came into his left ear. “Hey, Chill, did I just hear you say something about us going down?”

“Well, Archie, the ship is going down. If you can think of a way to stay up here without it, I’ll be okay with that.”

“We’re over Alliance territory. We’ll be captured for sure.”

“Okay, Arch. You’re right. I changed my mind. We’ll just keep flying with no thrust and no control.”

“Don’t be mean, Chill.”

“Sorry.”

He slid in and out of a glide, managing to lose speed and altitude without quite stalling. Or, at any rate, only stalling intermittently.

“Okay, we’re below mach one. Ready to go for a ride?”

“Not really. You sure we have to do this?”

There was a lurch that re-arranged Wash’s backbone as the gravboot tried to suck up more than it could handle, gave out, and came in again as best it could.

“I’m sure. Eject! Eject! Eject!”

A moment later he said, “Arch?”

“Sorry, Chilly-boy. Something else is busted too.”

“Can’t eject?”

“Nope. How ‘bout yours?”

“I don’t know. Well, partner, this is going to be fun.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Land.”

“Chilly, you should bail.”

“A little silence, please. The doctor is at work.”

He fought with and against the ship, with and against gravity. The ground was coming up fast. “Like a leaf on the wind,” he murmured.

Nine years previous

She found him on a makeshift road, just inside one of the guard posts. He seemed lost in thought, but greeted her with a nod.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, Sergeant.”

“No, it wasn’t. I could get used to seeing the Alliance run. The Colonel knows his business.”

“Why, Sergeant, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say a kind word about an officer.”

“Probably the last, too.”

“We held the town, anyway.”

The sergeant glanced at her. “Okay, Zoë. What is it?”

“Well, we’ve survived a battle. I mean, not a hit-and-run grab at supplies, but a real battle.”

“Right.”

“And we even won.”

“I believe we did, yes.”

“And most of the men performed well.”

“I noticed that same thing.”

“A couple of minor wounds, and, compared to what we had before, pretty good medical care. The men are pleased about that, Sergeant.”

“I hear a ‘but’ on the way, Zoë.”

“Are we going to get a real meal sometime in here, Sergeant?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I ought to check on that.”

“They’d appreciate it.”

The Sergeant nodded, started back toward the encampment, then stopped and looked down the road again. “We should move around behind them and take a shot at their supply line. Even if they have enough ducks to chase us out, it’ll put the fear of God into them. They’ll be running all the way back to Cheska by morning.”

“Going to suggest that to the Colonel, Sergeant?”

“No need. He’ll come up with it himself. Those poor bastards.”

“Who? The enemy?”

“Yeah. They have no idea what they’re going to run into.”

“Lambs to the slaughter, Sergeant.”

“That’s the honest truth, Zoë,” he said, and led the way back.

Three years previous

Kaylee heard her name called and pulled herself out from under the aft inertia interlock.

“Yes, Cap’n?”

The Captain and Zoë were standing there, flanking a tall, broad-shouldered man with a wide, sensuous mouth and bright eyes. Yum, said a little voice in her head.

She gave him her warmest smile.

“Kaylee, meet Jayne, our newest crew member. Jayne, Kaylee is our mechanic.”

She stood up, wiped her hands on her coveralls, and stuck out her hand. He wrapped it in his massive paw and grinned.

“This deal keeps getting better and better,” he said looking her up and down.

Kaylee frowned, glanced at the Captain, then at Zoë. “Huh,” she said, and climbed back under the interlock unit.

“She always this friendly?” said the new guy.

“No, I think you’re special,” said Zoë.

“I’ll introduce you to the pilot,” said the Captain, and three sets of footsteps retreated.

I hate it when they open their mouths and ruin everything, thought Kaylee, and returned to her work.

Six months previous

I’m sending this with a twelve hour delay from a public terminal. By the time you receive it, we will be aboard a ship and well away from this world. Obviously, I’m not