Battlecruiser Alamo: Tales from the Vault by Richard Tongue

Author:Richard Tongue [Tongue, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Publisher
Published: 2017-06-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

 It proved a fairly typical spacer haunt; fake wooden bar with a plump old bartender standing behind it, pumps dispensing a dozen different sorts of beer that were basically the same, half a dozen screens on the walls alternating between advertising and sports feeds. The place was crowded, many of those in the crowd were sporting green-and-black armbands over dirty overalls or jumpsuits.

 Logan and Anna had taken seats near the back of the room in plenty of time, and were on their second terrible lager of the evening by this point.

 “1940. The anarchists are late,” Anna said.

 Logan laughed, quietly, and gestured at the beer. “You want another one?”

 Anna looked over Logan's shoulder, and shook her head. “Our mark just walked in.”

 There was Valeria, looking older and more carefree than in the photographs, but definitely the same girl. She was wearing one of the armbands; the other arm was around a young man with a thin beard and a broad smile.

 “Ten kopeks say that's the leader,” Logan said.

 “I'm not giving you my money. He looks a bit on the young side for this sort of a mob, though.”

 “I don't know, I've seen younger politicians.”

 The crowd began to quiet down, and parted to let the couple make their way to the front. The screens all went dark; the doors closed, and locked. In a well-choreographed move, the lights dimmed and shone on the two of them standing in front of the crowd. There was a brief round of applause in which Logan and Anna joined, and the man began to speak.

 “You all know why we are here.”

 “Bet you're going to tell us, though!” a voice from the crowd shouted, to general laughter. Logan was a bit perplexed; his manner seemed uncertain, slightly hesitant.

 “We're here because we all feel the same way about the bosses. About the people who tell us what to do.”

 “I'm here for the beer!” another voice cried. Valeria had a frustrated look on her face, and whispered something into the man's ear.

 “I know what you aren't here for – you aren't here to listen to me! So I introduce the leader of our movement, our inspiration, Valeria!”

 Logan's eyes met Anna's. Whatever they had expected, this certainly wasn't it. Valeria stepped forward, her plain red hair shaking back and forth as she grabbed the microphone.

 “All of us are here tonight because we don't like being bossed around by incompetent nitwits. We don't like the people in charge giving us stupid orders that don't make any sense. We don't like being told that we have to sacrifice for the common good, while the fat cats sit back and enjoy their pampered, privileged lives!”

 There was a fast ease in these lines; Logan felt himself subconsciously nodding. The crowd was liking it as well.

 “Yes, here we are free from that tyranny. Here we are reliant only on ourselves, and on what we can do for ourselves and for each other. But the revolution will die if it is confined to this tumbling station.

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