The Prince by Jerry Pournelle and S.M. Stirling

On Burke Avenue, on scores of others like it, the Battle of Sparta City had begun.

* * *

“Report, Group Leader Derex?” Kenjiro Murasaki said, indicating the map table. The commander of the Helot regulars infiltrated into Sparta City looked exhausted, his armor dark with grime and smoke.

“Not so good, sir,” he said. “Here.” The map showed Minetown as a solid splotch of Movement red with long tangled pseudopods reaching out across the city; there was another, smaller block on the other side of the Sacred way, and a scattering like measles almost to Government House Square. From the CoDominium enclave a single broad straight arrow drove south, overlapping the Movement forces.

“Trouble is, them Minetowners ain’t gettin’ out as much as we’d like,” the Helot said regretfully. “Well, not surprisin’. Handing ’em guns don’t make them fuckers soldiers, sir. Too many barricades and Cits with guns. Not milishy—the milishy fightin’ the Marines—just Cits, but they kin shoot. Nearly got me, b’God; snipers thicker’n dogshit out there. Peltast rifles, too, them armored cars ain’t worth jack shit against them fuckers.” A look of grudging respect made the Helot’s face longer than ever.

“Well, anyways, when the Minetowners do git out, ‘n overrun places with Cits in ’em, they just stops to loot, rape and burn and drink anythin’ they kin find, transmission fluid included. Then the Milice flyin’ squads hits and drives ’em back. Our own fires is getting so outa hand they’re blockin’ us too. Too many of em round the edges of Minetown.”

“Flying squads?” Murasaki said thoughtfully “How do they coordinate, without communications?” Much of the Royal Army equipment was still functioning, but the ordinary city facilities were frozen.

The Helot officer brayed laughter. Murasaki frowned, and it sobered the tall man down to a grin.

“They ain’t using the com, sir. They’s usin’ Evil Scuts.”

“Eagle Scouts?” the Meijian said, baffled.

“Little motherfuckers’re on rooftops and in attic winders all over town, anywhere Cits live, blinkin’ at each other with flashlights. Morse code.” This time the admiration was ungrudged. “Runnin’ messages by bicycle, too.”

“Dispose of them.”

“How, sir? I ain’t got but the one Group, seven hundred countin’ every booger and ass-wipe. Y’ Movement gunmen will have to do it.”

Murasaki nodded thoughtfully. Surprising, he thought. Analysis had indicated the blockade and CoDominium intervention would frighten the populace into sitting this out.

“Recommendations?”

“Sure, sir. Them Minetowners don’t have the discipline to overrun even weak forces, but they got more’n enough numbers and firepower, with what we handed out. Your cell-leaders—” he jerked a thumb at the men and women behind him, in civilian clothes but armed and wearing = sign armbands “— keep tryin’ to lead from the front. Like tryin’ to stiffen up a pitcher of spit with a handful of buckshot, just wastin’ men who’re willing to fight. Put automatic weapons teams behind the crowds. Fire on anyone who retreats. Set the fires in the center of Minetown, big ones. They’ll charge the barricades if you get them too crazy-scared of what’s behind them to stop.”

The technoninja nodded.

“Do it. Now. Also, detach two companies for the Endlosung attack on Fort Plataia.”

The Helot hesitated. “Sir—”

“It is essential.”

Orders crackled out.

* * *

“Glad to see you, Cornet Talkins,” Owensford said. “Highness, I present Cornet Margreta Talkins. She holds commissions in both the Legion and the Royal Intelligence Corps. Talkins, Crown Prince Lysander.”

“I’m proud to meet you, Highness,” Margreta said. She looked down at her ill fitting clothing with embarrassment. “They didn’t tell me I was to meet you—”

Lysander took her hand and kissed her fingers. “I’m very pleased to meet you. We’ll repeat the introduction at a more pleasant event,” Lysander said. He turned to her companion. “I can’t say I’m pleased to see you, Niles. Frankly, I’d rather talk to a snake.”

“I wish I could resent that,” Geoffrey Niles said. “But unfortunately I understand all too well.”

“Were you at Stora?” Lysander demanded.

“At Stora, yes, Highness. But I had nothing to do with the attack on the Armory. I would have prevented it if I could.”

“You knew it was to take place?”

“I knew we had an earth penetrator missile. I did not know its target until less than five minutes before the launch. I protested the targeting, and was told that if I continued to protest I would be shot. I did not order that target, nor did I pass along any orders concerning that missile.”

“Sergeant Bielskis?” Owensford asked.

“No hesitations, and no doubts,” Andy Bielskis said. “If he’s faking that, he’s the best I ever saw. I’d say genuine, sir.”

“If you like I’ll submit to any questioning technique you want to employ,” Niles said. “The only violation of the Laws of War that I have been involved in or condoned was the gas attack in the Dales, and that was against military targets only. There weren’t even any civilians in the area.”

“All right, we’ll hold that one in abeyance,” Owensford said. “Cornet, what was promised to Mr. Niles?”

“Free passage out if he didn’t talk us into a better deal, and a reasonable head start before pursuit.”

“Talkins, you sound exhausted. I suppose it’s best you’re here as long as we’re talking to Grand Senator Bronson’s nephew, but as soon as we’re done I want you to go check into St. Thomas’s,” Owensford said.

“Thanks, sir, but I reckon I can still fight.”

“There’s no need,” Lysander said.

“Every need,” Margreta said. “Highness, I intend to accept Citizenship just as soon as I’m discharged. This is my home, and I’ll sure feel better when we’ve got these scum cleaned out of it.” She touched her bruised cheeks and black eye. “And I reckon I have some personal reasons, too.”

“Well, I can’t argue that,” Owensford said. “All right, Niles, you hinted that you want a better deal than a safe conduct out of here. What do you want and what will you trade?”

“What I want is a free pardon,” Niles said.

“Not a ticket off-planet?”

“If I have to take that I’ll do it, but I’d rather earn the right to stay here,” Geoff said. “Stay here, help rebuild. Help undo some of the damage I’ve caused.” He looked significantly at Margreta. “Marry, work for Citizenship.”

“Why this change of heart?”

“It would take a long time to explain, and we don’t have a long time,” Geoff said. “You learn a lot about a society from fighting it. And about its leaders. And what I learned was to admire you people.”

“And what do you have to bargain with?” Owensford demanded.

“Information. I’ll give it all to you, and you determine what it’s worth. I’ll accept your valuation.”

Lysander look coldly at him for a while. “All right. Spill it.”

Geoff told them of the conversation he had heard between Skilly and Murasaki. “I didn’t actually hear the word ‘nuke,'” he said, “but I can’t think what else it could be. Murasaki has one, but only one, nuclear weapon, and he intends to deploy it either to destroy the Palace, or Legion Headquarters at Fort Plataia. If it was left to Skilly it would be the Palace, but my guess is that Murasaki prefers Plataia.”

“But you don’t know it’s a nuke,” Lysander said, “and in any event you don’t know where it is. Where it is now, or where it is going to be. Who would know?”

“Skilly, and Murasaki,” Geoff said. “And maybe not Skilly. Murasaki is crazy. Apparently Grand Uncle gave him the assignment of undermining Sparta, and the secondary but almost equally important goal of punishing Falkenberg’s Legion.”

“Sounds a bit odd,” Owensford said. “The Legion’s on New Washington. We’re just some odd bits and pieces.”

“Including the families,” Niles said. “Murasaki would delight in the anguish it would cause Falkenberg and his people on New Washington if they heard their families were killed. Or captured by Bronson people.”

“That must take real hate,” Owensford said. “Is Bronson that crazy?”

Niles shook his head slowly. “General, I don’t know. I used to think he was crazy like a fox. That’s still the way to bet it.”

“All right,” Lysander said. “General, your evaluation? Is his information worth what he asks?”

“It’s close. Talkins, have you a recommendation regarding this man?” Owensford said.

“He saved my life,” she said. “And he—was very much a gentleman.”

“Well, you have a large favor coming from the Crown,” Lysander said.

“Oh. Well, if it’s large enough to cover his pardon, I’ll ask for it,” Margreta said.

Lysander nodded. “So be it. Geoffrey Niles, you have a free pardon for all acts committed since you arrived on Sparta to this moment. Cornet Talkins, you’ve still got a favor coming, you didn’t use more than half your credit on this.”

“So,” Owensford said. “Sergeant, take Mr. Niles to a conference room and see if he remembers anything else worth knowing. Particularly clues about where this Gotterdammerung is going to go off.”