The Last Colony

I nearly choked. “All of them,” I repeated.

 

“All of them,” Trujillo said. “The established colonies were never in any danger; their planetary defense grids picked off the attacks. Some of the smaller colonies saw some damage. Sedona colony had an entire settlement wiped off the map. Ten thousand people dead.”

 

“You’re sure about that,” I said.

 

“Secondhand,” Trujillo said. “But from a source I trust, who spoke to the Sedonan representative. I trust my source as much as I trust anyone.”

 

I turned to Kranjic and Beata. “This fits in with what you’ve heard?”

 

“It does,” Kranjic said. “Manfred and I have different sources, but what I’m hearing is the same.” Beata nodded as well.

 

“But none of this is on the news feeds,” I said, glancing down at my PDA, which lay on the table. I had it open and active, awaiting the determination of the inquiry.

 

“No,” Trujillo said. “The Colonial Union has slapped a blanket prohibition on information about the attacks. They’re using the State Secrecy Act. You’ll remember that one.”

 

“Yeah,” I winced at the memory of the werewolves and Gutierrez. “Didn’t do me a whole lot of good. I doubt it’ll do the CU much better.”

 

“The attacks explain the chaos we’re seeing here,” Trujillo said. “I don’t have any sources from the CDF—they’re clammed up tight—but I know that every single colony representative is screaming their head off for direct CDF protection. Ships are being recalled and reassigned, but there’s not enough for every colony. From what I hear, the CDF is doing triage—deciding which colonies it can protect and which colonies it can afford to lose.”

 

“Where does Roanoke fit into that triage?” I asked.

 

Trujillo shrugged. “When it comes down to it, everyone wants defense priority,” he said. “I sounded out the legislators I know about increasing Roanoke’s defenses. They all said they’d be happy to—once their own planets were taken care of.”

 

“No one’s talking about Roanoke anymore,” Beata said. “Everyone is focused on what’s happening at their own homes. They can’t report it, but they’re sure as hell following it.”

 

We focused on our burgers after that, lost in our own thoughts. I was preoccupied enough that I didn’t notice someone standing behind me until Trujillo looked up and stopped chewing. “Perry,” he said, and glanced meaningfully over my shoulder. I turned to see General Szilard.

 

“I like the burgers here, too,” he said. “I’d join you, but given your wife’s experience, I doubt you’d be willing to eat at the same table as me.”

 

“Now that you mention it, General,” I said, “you’d be entirely correct about that.”

 

“Then walk with me please, Administrator Perry,” Szilard said. “We have a lot to discuss, and time is short.”

 

“All right,” I said. I picked up my tray, giving a glance over at my lunch mates. Their expressions were carefully blank. I dropped the contents of my tray into the nearest receptacle and faced the general. “Where to?” I asked.

 

“Come on,” Szilard said. “Let’s go for a ride.”

 

 

 

“There,” Szilard said. His personal shuttle hung in space, with Phoenix visible to port and Phoenix Station off to starboard. He motioned to indicate both. “Nice view, isn’t it?”

 

“Very nice,” I said, wondering why the hell Szilard had taken me here. Some paranoid part of me wondered if he were planning to pop the shuttle’s access hatch and toss me into space, but he didn’t have a space suit, so this seemed somewhat unlikely. Then again, he was Special Forces. Maybe he didn’t need a space suit.

 

“I’m not planning to kill you,” Szilard said.

 

I smiled in spite of myself. “Apparently you can read minds,” I said.

 

“Not yours,” Szilard said. “But I can guess what you’re thinking well enough. Relax. I’m not going to kill you, if for no other reason because then Sagan would track me down and kill me.”

 

“You’re already on her shit list,” I said.

 

“Of that I have no doubt,” Szilard said. “But it was necessary, and I don’t plan to apologize for it.”

 

“General,” I said, “why are we here?”

 

“We’re here because I like the view, and because I want to speak frankly to you, and because this shuttle is the one place I’m entirely sure where anything I say to you is not going to be overheard by anyone else in any way.” The general reached over to the control dash of the shuttle and pressed a button; the view of Phoenix and Phoenix Station disappeared and was replaced with a depthless black.

 

“Nanomesh,” I said.

 

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