“Of course—but shouldn’t we send for Howard Bannister? The Council elected him President.”
“If we need him we’ll get him. Sergeant Major.”
“Sir!”
“Put Miss Horton’s things on the troop carrier with mine. I’ll take the Headquarters Guard platoon to Allansport.”
“Sir. Colonel, you’ll want me along.”
“Will I? I suppose so, Sergeant Major. Get your gear aboard.”
“Sir.”
“It’s probably already there, of course. Let’s move out.”
The personnel carrier took them to a small airfield where a jet waited. It was one of forty on the planet, and it would carry a hundred men; but it burned fuel needed for ammunition transport. Until the oil fields around Doak’s Ferry could be secured it was fuel they could hardly afford.
The plane flew across Patriot-held areas, staying well away from the isolated Confederate strongpoints remaining west of the Gap. Aircraft had little chance of surviving in a combat environment when any infantryman could carry target-seeking rockets, while trucks could carry equipment to defeat airborne countermeasures. They crossed the Columbia Valley and turned southwest over the broad forests of Ford Heights Plateau, then west again to avoid Preston Bay where pockets of Confederates remained after the fall of the main fortress.
“You do the same thing, don’t you?” Glenda Ruth said suddenly. “When we assaulted Preston Bay you let my people take the casualties.”
Falkenberg nodded. “For two reasons. I’m as reluctant to lose troops as the Highlanders—and without the regiment you’d not hold the Patriot areas a thousand hours. You need us as an intact force, not a pile of corpses.”
“Yes.” It was true enough, but those were her friends who’d died in the assault. Would the outcome be worth it? Would Falkenberg let it be worth it?
Captain Svoboda met them at the Allansport field. “Glad to see you, sir. It’s pretty bad in town.”
“Just what happened, Captain?” Svoboda looked critically at Glenda Ruth, but Falkenberg said, “Report.”
“Yes, sir. When the provisional governor arrived I turned over administration of the city as ordered. At that time the peninsula was pacified, largely due to the efforts of Mayor Hastings, who wants to avoid damage to the city. Hastings believes Franklin will send a large army from the home planet and says he sees no point in getting Loyalists killed and the city burned in resistance that won’t change the final outcome anyway.”
“Poor Roger—he always tries to be reasonable, and it never works,” Glenda Ruth said. “But Franklin will send troops.”
“Possibly,” Falkenberg said. “But it takes time for them to mobilize and organize transport. Continue, Captain Svoboda.”
“Sir. The Governor posted a list of proscribed persons whose property was forfeit. If that wasn’t enough, he told his troops that if they found any Confederate government property, they could keep half its value. You’ll see the results when we get to town, Colonel. There was looting and fire that my security forces and the local fire people only barely managed to control.”
“Oh, Lord,” Glenda Ruth murmured. “Why?”
Svoboda curled his lip. “Looters often do that, Miss Horton. You can’t let troops sack a city and not expect damage. The outcome was predictable, Colonel. Many townspeople took to the hills, particularly the miners. They’ve taken several of the mining towns back.”
Captain Svoboda shrugged helplessly. “The railway is cut. The city itself is secure, but I can’t say how long. You only left me 150 troops to control eleven thousand people, which I did with hostages. The Governor brought another nine hundred men and that’s not enough to rule their way. He’s asked Preston Bay for more soldiers.”
“Is that where the first group came from?” Glenda Ruth asked.
“Yes, Miss. A number of them, anyway.”
“Then its understandable if not excusable, Colonel,” she said. “Many ranches on Ford Heights were burned out by Loyalists in the first revolution. I suppose they think they’re paying the Loyalists back.”
Falkenberg nodded. “Sergeant Major!”
“Sir!”
“Put the Guard in battle armor and combat weapons. Captain, we are going to pay a call on your provisional governor. Alert your men.”
“Colonel!” Glenda Ruth protested. “You—what are you going to do?”
“Miss Horton, I left an undamaged town, which is now a nest of opposition. I’d like to know why. Let’s go, Svoboda.”
City Hall stood undamaged among burned-out streets. The town smelled of scorched wood and death, as if there’d been a major battle fought in the downtown area. Falkenberg sat impassive as Glenda Ruth stared unbelievingly at what had been the richest city outside the capital area.
“I tried, Colonel,” Svoboda muttered. He blamed himself anyway. “I’d have had to fire on the Patriots and arrest the governor. You were out of communication, and I didn’t want to take that responsibility without orders. Should I have, sir?”
Falkenberg didn’t answer. Possible violations of mercenary contracts were always delicate situations. Finally he said, “I can hardly blame you for not wanting to involve the regiment in war with our sponsors.”
The Patriot irregular guards at City Hall protested as Falkenberg strode briskly toward the Governor’s office. They tried to bar the way, but when they saw his forty guardsmen in battle armor they moved aside.
The governor was a broad-shouldered former rancher who’d done well in commodities speculation. He was a skilled salesman, master of the friendly grip on the elbow and pat on the shoulder, the casual words in the right places, but he had no experience in military command. He glanced nervously at Sergeant Major Calvin and the grimfaced guards outside his office as Glenda introduced Falkenberg.
“Governor Jack Silana,” she said. “The governor was active in the first revolution, and without his financial help we’d never have been able to pay your passage here, Colonel.”
“I see.” Falkenberg ignored the governor’s offered hand. “Did you authorize more looting, Governor?” he asked. “I see some’s still going on.”
“Your mercenaries have all the tax money,” Silana protested. He tried to grin. “My troops are being ruined to pay you. Why shouldn’t the Fedsymps contribute to the war? Anyway, the real trouble began when a town girl insulted one of my soldiers. He struck her. Some townspeople interfered, and his comrades came to help. A riot started and someone called out the garrison to stop it—”
“And you lost control,” Falkenberg said.
“The traitors got no more than they deserve anyway! Don’t think they didn’t loot cities when they won, Colonel. These men have seen ranches burned out, and they know Allansport’s a nest of Fedsymp traitors.”
“I see.” Falkenberg turned to his Provost. “Captain, had you formally relinquished control to Governor Silana before this happened?”
“Yes, sir. As ordered.”
“Then it’s none of the regiment’s concern. Were any of our troops involved?”
Svoboda nodded unhappily. “I have seven troopers and Sergeant Magee in arrest, sir. I’ve held summary court on six others myself.”
“What charges are you preferring against Magee?” Falkenberg had personally promoted Magee once. The man had a mean streak, but he was a good soldier.
“Looting. Drunk on duty. Theft. And conduct prejudicial.”
“And the others?”
“Three rapes, four grand theft, and one murder, sir. They’re being held for a court. I also request an inquiry into my conduct as commander.”
“Granted. Sergeant Major.”
“Sir!”
“Take custody of the prisoners and convene a General Court. What officers have we for an investigation?”
“Captain Greenwood’s posted for light duty only by the surgeon, sir.”
“Excellent. Have him conduct a formal inquiry into Captain Svoboda’s administration of the city.”
“Sir.”
“What will happen to those men?” Glenda Ruth asked.
“The rapists and murderer will be hanged if convicted. Hard duty for the rest.”
“You’d hang your own men?” she asked. She didn’t believe it, and her voice showed it.
“I cannot allow rot in my regiment,” Falkenberg snapped. “In any event the Confederacy will protest this violation of the Laws of War to the CD.”
Governor Silana laughed. “We protested often enough in the last revolution, and nothing came of it. I think we can chance it.”
“Perhaps. I take it you will do nothing about this?”
“I’ll issue orders for the looting to stop.”
“Haven’t you done so already?”
“Well, yes, Colonel—but the men, well, they’re about over their mad now, I think.”
“If previous orders haven’t stopped it, more won’t. You’ll have to be prepared to punish violators. Are you?’
“I’ll be damned if I’ll hang my own soldiers to protect traitors!”
“I see. Governor, how do you propose to pacify this area?”
“I’ve sent for reinforcements—”
“Yes. Thank you. If you’ll excuse us, Governor, Miss Horton and I have an errand.” He hustled Glenda Ruth out of the office. “Sergeant Major, bring Mayor Hastings and Colonel Ardway to Captain Svoboda’s office.”
“They shot Colonel Ardway,” Svoboda said. “The mayor’s in the city jail.”
“Jail?” Falkenberg muttered.
“Yes, sir. I had the hostages in the hotel, but Governor Silana—”
“I see. Carry on, Sergeant Major.”
“Sir!”
* * *
“What do you want now, you bloody bastard?” Hastings demanded ten minutes later. The mayor was haggard, with several days’ growth of stubble, and his face and hands showed the grime of confinement without proper hygiene facilities.