The Fall: Crimson Worlds IX (32 page)

“I just wanted to stop by and pay my respects, sir.”  Cain stood in front of Augustus Garret.  He was wearing a spotless uniform, carrying his hat under his arm, in token of respect.  “I just heard about Commander Rourke, sir.”

Garret nodded, and Cain could see the sadness in his eyes.  “Thank you, Erik.  In the end, despite all we tried to do to help her, in the end she couldn’t live with what had happened.”  His voice was soft, pensive. 

Rourke had been cleared of any guilt in the attempt on Garret’s life when Sarah identified the conditioning that had been implanted in her mind.  She’d been kidnapped during her last leave, and Stark’s people had done the deed, leaving her with perfect memories of an uneventful vacation.  She’d carried the conditioning for almost four years, all through the First Imperium War, and it had finally been released by one of Stark’s agents in the fleet sending her the trigger phrase.

Sarah’s analysis had cleared Tara of any wrongdoing, but all her medical skills couldn’t do anything about the animosity toward Rourke in the fleet.  Augustus Garret was revered by the men and women he commanded, and they’d howled for Rourke’s blood.  Even after Sarah had removed the last of the conditioning, it was clear that, whatever future the navy had, Tara Rourke could be no part of it.  Garret despised the injustice, but he knew the reality of the situation as well.

But Rourke’s greatest challenge had been forgiving herself.  She’d loved Garret as much as anyone in the fleet.  More.  She’d worked at his side, and she’d looked up to him like a father.  In the end, despite all of Sarah’s efforts, and Garret’s too, she simply hadn’t been able to deal with it, and she’d taken her own life.  They had found her in her dress uniform, lying on her bed in a pool of blood.  She’d shot herself and left behind a note for Garret, another apology that tore at his insides like a knife.  He’d tried to help her, to assure her he didn’t blame her, but to no avail.  Some wounds were simply too deep to heal.

“Sit Erik.  Stay for a while.  I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

Cain walked across the room and sat down alongside Garret.  He knew his own survival had been the unlikeliest of all.  He had been dead; he’d been sure of it, lying on the deck of Stark’s ship.  He’d felt his life slipping away, the last of his strength gone.

It had been Teller, and the Marines from Mondragon’s fleet.  They’d gotten there too late to intervene in the fight, and they’d found Cain on the deck, barely breathing.  Teller had thought his friend was dead at first, but then he realized Cain was still clinging tenuously to life.  They rushed in a portable medpod and got him into cryo-stasis before rushing him back to Mondragon’s flagship.

He’d teetered on the edge of life and death for days, until Sarah arrived with the fleet and took over his care.  She worked weeks on his shattered body, without sleep, almost without food, leaning over his medpod tirelessly, through all hours of the day and night.  Finally, almost miraculously, he began to recover.

Eventually, he’d ended up next to Garret in sickbay, the two of them propped up side by side as their beautiful doctor supervised every moment of their convalescence.  Garret’s recovery took five months, and Cain’s most of six.  He’d only just been released a week before, and he’d just gotten word of Rourke’s suicide.

“Erik, I have no idea what is going to happen…on Earth, in occupied space.  The future is, at best, uncertain.”  Garret’s voice was calm, soothing.  Cain could perceive something else there too, sadness, regret.  Cain had always known Garret had a lot of guilt and pain, but he was beginning to realize just how much self-recrimination the admiral carried with him.  Cain had been privileged to have a number of remarkable friends and comrades, and he’d begun to understand how similar he and Garret were – and how different in some ways from the others.

“We still call ourselves the Alliance navy, the Alliance Marines…but the Alliance is gone.  All the Superpowers are gone.  Earth is in ruins.”

Cain knew Garret was right.  The nuclear exchanges between the Superpowers had been cataclysmic.  Every city in the world had been obliterated.  The world’s industry was destroyed.  Over 80% of the population had been killed in the conflagration, and the rest were staggering around in the wilderness between the hotspots, struggling to survive.

The colony worlds were truly on their own now.  They would have to carry on without Earth’s vast industry, learn to subsist for themselves.  They would have to trade with other worlds for things their own planets lacked, and they would have to start immediately.

They would all be free as well, released from the control of the Superpowers and left to their own choices.  Every world would have to form its own government, find its way forward.  Cain didn’t know how the Corps would fit into that new future, or the navy either, but he knew one thing for sure.  Both institutions would be vastly smaller than they had been.  Mankind no longer possessed the resources to support vast military formations.

“I guess old habits die slowly, Admiral.”  Cain didn’t know what else to say.  He’d always thought of himself as an Alliance Marine, and he had no idea what would come next.  If there would even be a Marine Corps in the future.

“But they die sometimes, Erik.  They get replaced by new things.”  Garret’s eyes found Cain’s.  “Some of us will go on like before, leading the services into whatever future they have, even if that is only a slow and agonizing disbandment.  That will be my role.  There is nothing left for me but duty, Erik.  Everything else important to me is gone.”

Cain was staring directly at Garret, and he suddenly realized the true extent of the sadness the admiral carried.  He opened his mouth to speak, but Garret raised his hand.

“Please, Erik, let me finish.  I had my chances at happiness, long ago, but I passed them by.  They are long gone, never to return.”  He paused, and for an instant Cain felt like Garret’s thoughts were somewhere far away – or long ago.  “You have suffered, Erik.  You have fought with unimaginable bravery and fortitude.  You have seen things no man should witness.”  He reached out and put his hand on Cain’s arm.  “But you are not used up like I am.  You feel like you are, but you aren’t.  You have a chance at a future, at happiness.”

Cain looked down at the sofa.  “Sir…”

“My God, Erik, after all we’ve been through call me Augustus.  I know it’s a mouthful, but it’s better than all the sir this and admiral that.”

“S...Augustus, how can I abandon the Corps now?

“I didn’t say abandon the Corps, Erik.  Retire.  Go on reserve status.  Sam Thomas went back to Tranquility, but I’d doubt you’d say he ever stopped being a Marine.”  Elias Holm had recruited Thomas and a thousand old vets in the dark days at the beginning of the war.  Back then, Garret thought, no one expected the 85-year old Thomas to come through as strong as ever…and for Holm to die on Armstrong, but that’s what happened.

“Cate Gilson led the Corps through these final campaigns.  Let her take the Commandant’s stars.  She won’t do it without your OK.  Give her your blessing, and then go live your life.  A real life.  One where you can get through your day without the stink of death all over you.  You have love, Erik, someone to spend that life with you.  Don’t throw that away.  I did.  A long time ago.  And for all my fame and glory, I still regret the choices I made.”  He paused.  “Garret the hero has become my tormenter, Erik.  Don’t let Cain the hero become yours.”

Cain sighed softly.  The Corps had been his whole life.  For all the sacrifice and struggle it had often demanded, it had been his home.  Was it possible to live another way?  To get up and smell the air, to walk through the woods?  To live with Sarah, not just for short periods, but every day?

Garret had watched him quietly, but now he spoke again.  “You are both young, though I’ve no doubt you don’t feel that way.  With the rejuv treatments, you are the physical equivalent of two people in your early thirties.  You could still have children.”  He stared into Cain’s eyes again, almost pleading with his friend to heed his words.  “Do it for all of us, Erik.  So that all the fighting, all the sacrifice, wasn’t in vain.  Be the reason we fought so hard and so long.  One small island of sanity in the storm we’ve all traversed.”

Cain sat quietly for a moment, considering Garret’s words.  Finally, he nodded slowly.  “Maybe you’re right, Augustus.  I’ll talk to Sarah about it.”  He managed a small smile.  “I will think about everything you said.  I really will.”

Cain stood on the observation deck and gathered his thoughts.  The collar on his dress uniform was tight, and he undid the top two buttons.  He’d be a Marine until the day he died, but he knew he had changed too.  He’d been thinking about everything Garret had said to him, and it had begun to make sense.  He didn’t know if it was the desperate final battle against Stark or something else, but Cain felt somehow…different.  Perhaps he needed to take a different road forward.

He’d just come from the cargo hold, where he’d witnessed Rafael Samuels’ execution.  Cain had hated Samuels for years, ever since he’d become the greatest traitor in the history of the Corps, but now the whole thing felt somewhat anticlimactic.  He’d only gone because he felt it had been his duty to go, but he’d felt no anger, no bloodlust.  He’d watched Samuels die, but he felt no satisfaction.  The shots that killed the great traitor didn’t bring back a single dead Marine, nor rebuild a shattered city.

Stark was dead, the Superpowers destroyed.  The long struggle was at an end.  The cost had been high, more terrible than anyone could have imagined, but now it was time to move forward.  Samuels’ actions had been unforgivable, and they were no less horrific for the fact that Stark’s crimes had been even worse.  But the time for war and hatred and vengeance was over.

The former Commandant had been captured on Earth, during the last of the fighting.  Camille Harmon had led the fleet back to the Sol system too late to intervene in the orgy of destruction unleashed by the Superpowers.  Stark’s plan had worked exactly how he’d devised, and Samuels led the Shadow Legion forces out of their bases and into the ravaged wastelands to seize total control of the tattered remnants of mankind.

Harmon had reacted quickly and, without hesitation, she’d launched a fresh round of nuclear death on Stark’s bases and heavy concentrations of Shadow Legion soldiers.  Then Cate Gilson had led the remnant of the Corps and the Janissaries down to the surface to track down the survivors.  The battle had raged for three months, and when it was done, the Shadow Legion armies were gone, and the Marines and the Janissaries were shattered remnants, wispy apparitions of the massive fighting forces they had once been.

Earth was a radioactive ruin, and its people faced an arduous struggle for survival, but at least their future would be their own.  They would have no master, no creature like Gavin Stark or Rafael Samuels to rule over them.  Cain valued freedom like a precious gift, but he wondered how the people of Earth would feel, scavenging for food, fighting to stay warm, dying for lack of basic medicines.  Would they prize the freedom the destruction of the Superpowers left behind?

They would suffer unimaginably in their struggle to survive, and it would be generations before there was any substantial recovery or rebuilding.  The Superpowers were gone, destroyed by their own corruption and folly.  The politicians who had ruled the people were dead or scavenging in the same wasteland as those they had once ruled.  Cain suspected the starving refugees wouldn’t take long to turn feral, and anyone who had held power in the old system would be in grave danger if their identity became known.

But for all of Earth’s suffering, mankind had another future, one among the stars.  Humanity had stretched its hand out into the galaxy, and on almost a thousand worlds, new civilizations grew.  Some of these were tiny outposts on the fringes of explored space, others substantial colonies beginning to celebrate their first centennials.  They faced enormous challenges ahead, but also great opportunities.

Would these worlds learn from Earth’s mistakes?  Would their people avoid the tragic errors their ancestors had made?  Or would they tread down the same dark path, selling their freedom cheaply to politicians and power brokers who lie to them and tempt them with empty promises of security?

Cain didn’t know the answer, but he tried to suppress the doubts he felt.  He wasn’t an optimist by nature, but for once, he wanted to be.  He longed to believe humanity could learn, that they could truly appreciate freedom and embrace it above all things.  But he just wasn’t sure.

Erik Cain had unlimited confidence in a select few friends and allies who had proven their worth through years of fire and death.  But he had no faith in most people, nor in mankind as a whole.  He’d seen the consequences of humanity’s choices, the cost good men and women had paid again and again.

In his heart he feared men would make the same mistakes again.  These new colonies, now so optimistically embracing the future, would eventually begin to fight with each other instead of growing together.  Democratic governments would give way once again to entrenched political classes, and the people would live their lives in willful ignorance.  They would trade their freedoms willingly for empty promises of protection, and in so doing, they would ignore the deadly threat to liberty until it was too late once again.

Cain looked through the porthole one last time at the world of his birth.  The holocaust wasn’t apparent from space, but he knew what was happening down there, the billions dead, the millions more wandering through the nightmarish hell their world had become.