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The Radical Factor (Stone Blade Book 3) Page 23
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Page 23
"Fear is a phantom of the mind."
Micah yelped, tried to jump and tried to look around. The straps and the rat itself held him firmly in place. He knew it could hold one person and that only barely but the voice spoke, neither yelling nor distorted. He heard Master Ko, the 113's brutal unarmed combat instructor.
"The phantom has no substance."
Micah tried turning the other way. Ko's voice spoke over his shoulder from just behind him.
"The fear has no substance."
Though heartless and cold Ko taught thoroughly and well. He tolerated no mistakes, demanded perfection and at best accepted accomplishment. Though he taught physical combat most of his lessons involved mind, will and discipline.
"Cleanse the fear and you will clear the mind."
Behind and facing was a position of trust. A position Ko took frequently when driving home his teaching. The HRAT bucked and bounced and its external sensors burned away. He didn't splatter against the air after all!
"Clear the mind and you will control the phantom."
A louder hissing told Micah the rat entered the atmosphere properly and now descended into the thicker layers. He didn't splatter! Though Ko offered no comfort Micah took it; he still felt his presence behind him. The rat finally split, his 'chutes deployed and Micah drifted slowly down to the surface in his armor.
"Control the phantom and it will seize your foe."
Micah rounded a corner only to find himself facing a squad of armored meat. They could take him. They would take him! They would kill him, save for the fear rooting them in place. Wispy tendrils of it oozed away from them and dissipated in the smoky air around them.
"What the phantom clutches you must strike!"
Micah charged the men and blasted them down as he cut through them like plasma through soft mud. Ko whispered at every corner and door, warning Micah of danger and unleashing terror on his enemies. Micah laughed maniacally as he mowed them down without mercy. By the stars Ko would praise him this day!
***
Pallan Smear II, the second planet in one of the poorest systems in the Durban Cluster. A planet whose population still resisted the President-for-Life of the People's Government there. A planet full of worthless rebel meat. A planet whose President negotiated for the services of the 113th to accomplish the task his own military failed to do: pacify the planet.
Working as silently as his armor allowed Micah located the demo charge. He traced the logic he could see. The thing didn't have a timer but a comm button instead. Feces! Short range, though, so the go signal would have to come from somewhere close. He checked the thing for idiot wires and traps, found none and carefully opened it. No explosion. Polar. Still working carefully he removed the detonator from its anchors. The comm button beeped and Micah pulled as hard as he could, frantically trying to put the maximum distance between the detonator and the explosive. The detonator blew up but the bomb didn't!
Excruciating pain shot through Micah's hand. He could see the bones in the shredded flesh visible through the breached armor covering his hand. His vision fogged gray as pulse and plasma bolts spatted and hissed around him.
"Pain does not hurt, child."
Micah snapped his head around. The unwavering voice of Sergeant Hile spoke but Micah didn't see him anywhere.
"Pain is your friend."
Enemy fire now actively sought Micah, tracing toward and trying to probe his location. He thought he saw the outline of a blast rifle behind the edge of a building.
"Pain sharpens the mind."
Working off-handed Micah fired slightly above and behind the outline of the rifle, aiming at where its holder should be. The bolt flashed and a man-shaped shadow fell to the ground.
"Pain gives you clarity and focus."
Micah rolled for better cover, searching for targets as he did. Only too many did he find!
"If you do not have the pain, the pain has you."
Micah fired, and fired, and fired again. Several return shots bounced off his armor. One ricocheted with considerable heat; that one would leave a burn.
"Harness your pain and use it! Do not let it shackle you."
Micah charged the closest group of foes. Fear grew in them and their shots went wild. Even with his off hand he cut them down. They fell before him as his pain held them helpless under his onslaught.
***
Remise, one of the two habitable planets in the Slyco system and the location of a Marine training base. Micah, Paige McCree, Dale Jeffers and Terrence Bixby stood firm before a crowd of bangers. Micah and his fellows had a weekend pass and certainly didn't want to spend it fighting thugs!
The bangers moved in to attack. Too many! They would certainly overwhelm Micah and the others.
"You hit with your hands."
Sergeant Elwood Taylor, League Marine certified unarmed combat instructor and one of their most demanding teachers, spoke those words hard. All the recruits save Micah thought him overly harsh. Rumor said he took pleasure in every boot he made drop out of training. Micah knew better, knew differently. Of all the instructors Taylor worked the hardest to instill the discipline and physical and mental toughness any soldier needed.
"You fight with your brain!"
Micah attacked his attackers! The other three fought hard but to much less effect; they had not yet attained the mettle that would make them Marines. They lacked, yet, the certainty that this battle would be their last and that they should fight like it. The bangers surged and Bixby went down.
"You win with your heart!!"
Micah knew he knew more than his friends. He knew he had what they didn't and that he owed it to them to protect them. The remaining bangers tried to take him en masse and he fought as hard and as fast as ever he'd trained. And done. After a bloody time only he and his three friends remained standing.
"If your heart is in it you will win it!"
The gang leader Micah had dropped with his first attack rose to one knee and drew a blaster. Micah tried to rush the man... Too late! The blaster flashed, his shirt flamed up and the pulse bolt tore through him. Micah stumbled but continued his rush. Before the man could fire again Micah killed him.
"Win with your heart and YOU WIN!"
Micah closed his eyes and darkness took him.
***
Caustik. The world that was no longer Micah's home. His arms around Jennifer and their lips pressed together. The light in her eyes as he told her of the stars beyond theirs. The stars in her eyes as she looked back at him.
"Love is powerful."
Vera? Micah knew Kidwell hadn't met Jenn. Had she? He stumbled over the words he spoke as he tried to make Jennifer see what he couldn't say. The wonderful worlds beyond Caustik and the happiness she could find there. The freedom from the misery lowcarders suffered and the magnificent marvels there for the enjoying. Enjoying without worrying about a Status card or a bullying highcarder. The simple joy they could share. If only she would come with him.
"Love is dangerous, dangerous beyond death, when handled badly."
The heartbreak in her eyes when she refused. The sadness trickling down her face. The cold chasm in his soul when she spoke the words. The words that tore away the very anchors that kept him... him.
"Almost impossible to handle properly."
Begging her and not finding the words to say. The icy pain he'd caused magnified a thousandfold as he walked away. The empty void that could never be filled. The pain that would hurt her past all healing if she saw it. His final words. His last, desperate words.
"Love fulfilled is everything."
Jennifer at his brother's graduation. Joking with his family. His mother and father. With Deke. Jennifer not showing a hint of the pain he knew she felt.
Micah, will I like it on Azure, she'd asked.
"Hope and happiness and compassion and understanding. Everything good and wonderful."
I love you, Jenn, he'd said.
I love you too. I love you... Micah...
***
"Micah. Micah!"
He struggled to breathe. The air came but not enough. Not enough!
"Don't fight it! Just breathe steady, Stone."
Heart racing. Breath coming but still not enough. Roaring!
"Come on, Micah. Breathe slowly. Just take it in." First voice.
"Steady on, Stone." Second voice.
The icy prick and hiss of a hypo. Horribly bright light stabbing his watery vision.
"That's it. Steady on. Slowly, now." Second voice.
Micah's vision cleared slowly and the roaring in his ears abated. He panted fast, shallow breaths. When he slowed them they deepened and his heart beat slower.
"That's good, Stone. Don't fight the meds." The second voice, Davies, now sounded from a very concerned face. "I want you to know you're the bravest sonuvawhore I know or the stupidest man in the galaxy."
"Don't bet on stupid with him, Mike." Kidwell, the first voice, said those words with a steady certainty but her expression gave lie to that. "You'll lose every time. Why did you drink that poison, Micah?"
Micah tried to speak but only gibberish came out.
"Later, then," said Ionoski, silent until now, "You'd best be ready with a full and satisfying report, Agent Stone."
Micah took a long, deep breath. Another hypo dimmed his world slowly back to sleep.
***
"Micah! Agent Stone!"
Micah fought his way awake. Cold sweat drenched him and he felt totally drained. Ionoski and Davies swam into focus above him with concerned and serious expressions on their faces.
"I'm here," said Micah. Or tried.
Davies moved and Micah felt something at his lips. He drank and the world unblurred into clarity.
"I'm glad you're awake," said Davies, "and more so that you're still alive."
"Me too," said Micah, "What happened?"
"You performed an incredibly stupid act, Agent Stone," said Ionoski, "I do not see any particular explanation or justification for it, either."
Micah sat up, amazed that he could.
"Phase down, soldier," said Davies, trying to gently pressure him back down, "You're not close to recovered yet."
"Good luck," said Kidwell, sotto voce, "He never listens to us when we say that."
When Micah looked around he saw Siffai and Barstein as well, all the others seated in sickbay in various states of relaxation.
"I have a report to make," he said, "Ted, record please."
Ionoski switched on a datacaster while Davies pulled up a pair of chairs. Then, precisely and dispassionately, Micah gave a full and exacting report on what he experienced.
"Stupid dosha," said Siffai but without punch, "We could have lost you."
"Low sigma on that," said Micah, "Doctor Davies has inocs and treatments for all the toxins. I did not deem myself in danger at any time."
"Toxins!" Davies exhaled explosively. "Toxins, yes! I'm still working on the full spectrum and I told you I haven't traced any of the neurophysiology!"
Micah shook his head. "Nothing rattling, Mike. I'm polar."
"You are an L-shot away from polar," said Ionoski, "and more so in trouble, Agent Stone! I doubt you can say anything to justify your actions."
"It had to be done, Ted," said Micah simply, "We needed the information. We needed exact and specific information. As to my volunteering to acquire it I offer no excuse. I'll accept whatever discipline you set subject only to my giving Doctor Davies the necessary details he currently lacks."
"I shall take the matter of your discipline under advisement," said Ionoski, "What more do you have to report?"
"I gave you the facts," said Micah, "But that was the smallest part of it. That leaves the feelings and that may be the most critical part. For truth it may be the entire reason the Esavians want so much of that wine."
"I suppose you're going to quote Unofficial Rule Fourteen now," said Ionoski.
"Pardon after is easier than permission before," quoted Micah, "You just did."
Ionoski sighed. "Slib. Since you did survive and didn't directly jeopardize the mission. Do not do that again, though!"
Micah nodded.
"Now continue your report."
Micah collected his thoughts. "I told you about the situations. In its own way each of them was a traumatic first experience. Each was highly charged, emotionally, and negative. Each had horribly bad and fearful feelings, emotion, associated with it. Terror in combat, crippling pain, fear of losing my friends, of... of opening up or losing Jenn... Very... very difficult to handle or even survive.
"Every time, though, there was someone I respected or trusted present. I never saw any of them, I just heard them, but I knew they were there. They always told me things I already knew but... but I felt them there. I felt them there and I knew they had my six. I knew they wouldn't let me falter or fail. They inspired me and showed me things. Things I knew but needed to see again. Things that helped me."
Micah stopped and the others remained silent for a long time.
"Rest," said Davies finally, "I'm going to give you a mild and safe sedative. We'll unlink at Triumph tomorrow and I want you rested before we do."
Tomorrow! That told Micah just how long he'd been out. Perhaps Davies had been right after all! One by one the others left. Only Kidwell remained as Micah felt the sedative start to take effect. She leaned over him and spoke softly.
"Trust, you said." She smiled. "That means a lot to me, Micah. More than you can possibly know." She kissed him on the forehead. "Now get some rest... brother."
***
Micah arrived late for breakfast the next morning - intolerable! - but he felt almost whole. The others filled him in on what they discovered during his absence.
"Trade patterns," said Ionoski, "With the data we gathered plus what I discovered through my business we have a nice, large flow of economy between the Esavians and the Mekhajan. Most of the goods traded move point-to-point but some few of them do concentrate. There's more concentration on the Esavian side. It accumulates at Allhai Mik and Saddireb Libre with a lesser amount at Barrhi Esav. Of particular interest is our favorite beverage. The wine does not accumulate, it disperses. It's not quite even; the dispersion is more by population modified by the number of Mekhajan agents listed. That is based on the data we have which is not complete but is very convincing."
"This is also worth noting," added Ferrel, "We have cargo tons of data on their logistics. They do use civilian merchant ships for military deliveries and that is heavily influenced by family ties. Some families move military goods exclusively but only low-value ones: uniforms, rations, low- to medium-armored vehicles, tooth gel, socks, things like that. High-value goods go to families with members and traditions in both the military and merchant trade.
"This also stopped us for a long time. We needed you, my brother! Some things that should be military are classified as civilian and vise versa. There's no rationality or reason but obviously it works for them. What's strange is that Mek-Taniston wine, the special stuff, is classified as military! Same thing with the wine from the other three planets and same classification! Only the last letter is different and it's planet-of-origin. The really strange part is that the wine is classified as military but it never goes to the military. The closest to that is when a military vessel transports some of it to a point where it can be shipped to an Esavian world."
Micah chewed on that. "They know what they have, that much is clear. We don't. They also know how to use it and we don't. Yet!"
He asked several more detail-questions. They filled in much of the Mekhajan structure he'd only inferred before, and that helped him with their overall logistics. It also increased his appreciation of their military logistical structure. And, he commented sardonically, it would reduce paperwork immensely!
"Finally there is the Lan'Quor," said Siffai, "It is horrid yet in places it is beautiful. We have a lexical reference built and we're working on a semantic one. It's a pity Charles didn't fi
nd one of those! It's slow work and there are multiple meanings and contexts to every single word!"
"Hence the divisive nature of Dhu's various sects," commented Ionoski dryly.
"So where do you want me," asked Micah.
"Away from any hint of trouble," said Kidwell.
"Lan'Quor," said Ionoski, "Based on what you did I want you to read it for feeling. That plus give ideas on proper meanings and context."
When Micah started reading the Lan'Quor he slowed to a crawl almost immediately. He found the words very poetic and at times beautiful but, as Siffai said, he also discerned multiple meanings to them, the phrases and the stanzas. What's more, the multiple ideas they presented never connected to each other for long. Topics and meanings shifted at random times to something else entirely. At least the style of writing did remain consistent!
"You see what I meant," said Siffai when he took a break, "The words are not hard and the meanings are clear, even when they are many. The topics, they wander across the galaxy even over the space of four stanzas!"
"All truth and no blather," said Micah, "I tried finding patterns, too. Similar topics do appear but time on topic varies from a few stanzas to a poem to a single stanza! The appearance of each topic also has no pattern and that's what really reeks!
"After we land, when we send this to SIF7, we need to include instructions to print it as it would be in a book. Chapter-breaks and columns, just like the original Charlie slirped. If possible it should be bound as a book. When they expose it to Larruk they need to make careful note of exactly how he accesses it. The key may be there."
"Sela'hai."
Back at work Micah started where he'd left off. Then he tried skipping lines, then stanzas and finally entire poems. Still nothing. Then he tried reading back to front. Squelch again! Frustrated, he sat back, relaxed and let his mind wander.
Inspiration struck! Micah called up Siffai's lexical reference and queried the word 'wine.' He read from the first result forward. Several dozen poems later no pattern had developed. Each of the poems or stanzas did contain the word but had little or nothing else in common. During her analysis Siffai enumerated and reference-coded each stanza so Micah took the codes from his results and tried the various numerical and crypto-toggling tricks he knew on them.