The Siege of Arista by Christopher Stasheff & Bill Fawcett

Author:Christopher Stasheff & Bill Fawcett [Stasheff, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Event Horizon EBooks
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

More than a month passed. The Second Battle of Arista was fought and won. This time the battle lasted a day and half. One of Arista’s three fortified moons was neutralized, two orbital defense platforms were destroyed, fourteen cities were turned into radioactive slag, and 4,563,000 men, women and children were killed.

Now, the surviving population of Arista was preparing for the Third and, quite possibly, the Last Battle Of Arista. The one they might very well lose.

But not Kilgor, and not the other men and women of the High Bluff Military Correctional Facility. They spent their days turning rocks into gravel, dumping the gravel into chutes, and wondering where it went.

The truth was nowhere, since every truck on the planet had been confiscated by the military, and none were available for hauling gravel.

Kilgor rolled out of his rack to a morning like every other. His cell was a white cube, with only the utilitarian bunks, wash basin, and commode to break the hard straight lines. The floor was cold under his feet.

Three steps to the dispenser slot, grab two pairs of disposable overalls, and throw one at Murph. Ignore the other man’s protest, empty his bladder, and brush his teeth. Another day had begun.

Kilgor was putting his boots on when the intercom went off. “Prisoner Kilgor. Report to your door. A guard will escort you to the administration section. That is all.”

Murph was worried. Although he had the smooth, untroubled features of a philosopher, he was a dyed-in-the-wool pessimist at heart.

“What’s happening boss? The admin section? What if they brain-probe you?”

Kilgor forced a smile. Though worried, he couldn’t let it show. “Brain probe? Nonsense. Major Nithra wants my body, that’s all.”

Murph laughed. “That’ll be the day. I know her type. Firm but fully packed. That’s how she likes ‘em. Substantial, like me.”Murph patted a small paunch.

“Full of it, like you,” Kilgor answered, stepping up to the cell door.

The door recognized him, approved the thumb print provided by the guard outside, and swished open. Kilgor stepped out.

The guard’s face was hidden behind a flesh colored mask. The guards all wore them and the masks all looked alike. They were an intentional barrier to communications. The masks made it more difficult to know the guards as people, to see their expressions, to probe their weaknesses.

“You know the rules,” the guard said gruffly. “Walk five paces ahead, do exactly as I say, and keep your mouth shut.”

Like most of the guards this one was sloppy. One by one, the more competent guards were leaving, headed for combat units, while second and third rate troops came in to replace them. This one was a joke, standing way too close, and damned near asking to have his butt kicked.

For the millionth time Kilgor considered taking the guard’s blaster and shooting his way out. And for the millionth time he rejected a plan which would kill a lot of guards, end his life, and accomplish nothing.

He still wanted to live, still cared, still hoped.

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