Children No More-ARC Read online

  "Do you believe it?" I said. "Not about them. About yourself, about all the bad things you've done in combat?"

  "That's different," she said. "I was an adult."

  "Is it?" I said. "Is it really different?"

  Long stepped between us.

  "Do you ever think about when you were a kid?" he said.

  All the time, I thought, but I sure wasn't going to say that to them. Instead, I forced myself to lean back in my chair. I shrugged. "Who doesn't?"

  "Most people," he said, "have memories—"

  "—sometimes suppressed," Schmidt said.

  "Sometimes suppressed," Long agreed, "of problems that occurred or things that went wrong, things that were in no way their fault but that they blamed themselves for causing. Maybe a parent's issues, or a sibling's. Those events leave scars."

  "Now imagine," Schmidt said, "the kind of damage that happens when what goes wrong is adults abusing the kids, or forcing them to do horrible things, or exposing them to scenes no child should ever have to see."

  "Like being beaten, or being forced into fighting," Long said.

  "Or killing," Schmidt said. "Imagine the damage."

  I didn't have to imagine anything, but I closed my eyes as if trying to do just that. Instead, I fought to control my reaction, breathe slowly, and show nothing.

  After a few seconds, I opened my eyes.

  Schmidt was watching me carefully. She nodded as she said, "You're getting it. Good."

  "Look," Long said, and he began to pace, "we're over-simplifying, of course, but the concept is close enough and correct in general. If we are to help these boys to live normal lives, eventually we must persuade them that whatever they did, whatever horrible acts happened while they were forced to be soldiers, were not their fault, not really. They never had a choice, not if they wanted to stay alive. They have to see that the blame belongs on the adults who commanded and trained and shaped them."

  "And that it wasn't their fault that those soldiers killed their families," Schmidt said. "That they couldn't have saved their parents and brothers and sisters. That it wasn't their fault that they lived while others died, that the rebels turned them into soldiers."

  "A lot of that makes sense," I said, "because they didn't have any choices up to the point at which they became soldiers. Once they were, when the action started, they had the same options all of us who fought did: Walk away, kill, or be killed." I shut up; I hadn't meant to speak.

  Schmidt shook her head. "First, was walking away ever really an option for you in combat?"

  When I was in the Saw, if you went somewhere you knew, it was either to train or to fight. The fighting occurred in places I'd never been before. Abandoning your unit was never something you would even consider. You were with them. You were a team.

  "No," I said. "Walking away was never an option."

  She nodded. "And you signed up. You made a choice to serve. These kids were never adult soldiers. They never had a chance to make an informed, adult decision about their actions. Once recruited, most, maybe all, of them had no real chance to do anything except what their leaders taught them to do."

  "Few of us do," I said. "The training makes sure you react, not choose." Benny had molded me first, and later the Saw had refined my techniques and made me an even better soldier. Good training induced action without hesitation.

  "Exactly," she said, "but these boys don't understand any of that. They blame themselves for everything, all that they did and a lot that they didn't—and most of all, for not saving their families."

  I'd never found Jennie. I'd failed to save her. I kept hoping one day to find a way to get past the blockade on the one jump gate to my home planet, go there, and find her, but I'd never made it. I didn't even know if she was alive; the odds were certainly against it.

  "Do you understand, Jon?" Long said.

  I glanced up at him. "Well enough, I think."

  "Good," Schmidt said. "We all need to be following the same script when we talk to Nagy, so we can help him."

  I recalled the look in the tall boy's eyes, the sound of his roaring, beast-like screams. "He may be too far gone," I said.

  "So we'll work harder," Schmidt said, "because we're not giving up on him."

  I was trying to figure out how to explain to her why I was so sure Nagy was in trouble when Lobo spoke to me privately over the comm.

  "We need to talk," he said. "Wylak's changing the deal."

  Chapter 41

  In the former rebel complex, planet Tumani

  I stayed quiet until I was safely inside Lobo and standing in the pilot area. I paced back and forth across its width, drained enough that I wanted to keep moving lest I fall asleep, but at the same time feeling buzzed from the encounter with Nagy and Bony.

  "I take it your eavesdropping on Wylak has paid off," I said.

  "Cracking through a wide array of governmental security systems and a smorgasbord of personal countermeasures so I can tap into every data feed related to a major government official is hardly mere eavesdropping," said Lobo, "but, yes, my efforts have yielded results we must discuss."

  I couldn't stop thinking about the two boys and how I could explain to Schmidt and Long why I was so sure Nagy was in worse shape than they realized. I wasn't in the mood to banter with Lobo. Annoying him, however, would only prolong the conversation, so I stopped moving, took a deep breath, and said, "Thank you for doing all that. What have you learned?"

  "My, aren't we Mister Formal and Considerate all of a sudden," he said.

  I shook my head but didn't respond.

  After a few seconds, he said, his voice low and gentle, "Jon, it was just a fight between two young male friends."

  "No," I said, "that's the problem: It wasn't."

  "Fights among the boys are common," he said. "You don't see most of them, because they occur in other areas, but they happen often."

  "I understand, but though I can't justify or explain the feeling, I know that Nagy is in a very bad way. He needs more help than they realize."

  "If you want to go back to them, we can have this conversation another time—but sooner would be better."

  I rolled my head a bit to try to work out the kinks in my neck and shoulders. "Maybe you and Schmidt and Long are all correct. Maybe I'm over-reacting. In any case, this sounds important, so let's do it. What's going on?"

  "Wylak's been devoting a lot of government computing cycles to financial and military simulations," Lobo said, "simulations that have concerned the boys. He's also participated in a great many meetings about them. I've been able to monitor some but not all of those meetings."

  "None of that is surprising," I said, "given what he said when Lim and I met with him."

  "I agree in general," he said, "but the details pose the problem. When you and the others captured this complex and those boys, you hurt the rebels. The government forces have been on the offensive ever since, and they're gaining ground. The problem is, they're short on soldiers, and they're low on money."

  "Oh, no," I said.

  "Wylak's models show that the inducements and ongoing fees the government would have to pay families to take these boys represent a large investment at a time when he and many of his colleagues feel they need to divert as many of their resources as possible to winning the war once and for all."

  "So he's decided that he can save money and perhaps crush the rebels by turning the boys into more government troops." I whispered, "By making them soldiers again."

  "A task," Lobo said, "that he feels would be a simpler and cheaper reprogramming effort than what Lim and her team are trying to accomplish."

  "Damn," I said, my voice growing louder. "Damn! He's probably right, too, because few, if any, of these kids ever really understood what they were fighting for. Show them proof—real or faked—that the rebels killed their families, get them back on the root, fire them up a bit, and—"

  "—and they'll be ready to fight again in the jungle," Lobo said. "They'll probab
ly even thank the people who let them. Exactly. Wylak's also told his colleagues that the reintegration of the boys can occur later, after the war. When it comes time to ask for the budget to do that, they'll easily get the money, because the boys will be heroes."

  "Or dead or so much worse than they are now that no one can help them." I pictured Bony and Nagy carrying guns, heading into the woods again. I couldn't let that happen. None of them should have to do that. "So is it settled, or do we have maneuvering room?"

  "Unclear," Lobo said, "because some of the most important meetings were in hardened private areas. From the data I've been able to gather, it appears that not all key players are on board with his plan. That's one of the reasons he's bringing a team here."

  "One of the reasons?" I said. "And, when?"

  "From discussions among his staff members, it appears that Wylak has two motivations for his visit. First, he wants to show some of the opposition that the boys are far from ready to resume normal lives. He's never mentioned that no one expected them to be ready at this stage in the process."

  "He wants to prove Lim's program is a failure."

  "I assume so. He also wants to give some of his supporters a first-hand look at the boys, to convince everyone that even though they're young, these kids could prove to be valuable battlefield assets."

  "How's he going to do all this without tipping off Lim?"

  "Tomorrow, he'll call her and suggest that an inspection tour could increase support for the work here, and that he very much needs that support. He'll unveil as already in motion and too late to change his plan to come two days later. He knows she won't appreciate the visit, and he has to assume she'll be suspicious, but she's unlikely to suspect anything near the full extent of what he's doing."

  Each time I deal with a government, my lifelong desire to stay away from all of them seems wiser. "So we tell her," I said. "She confronts Wylak and threatens to spread his plans far and wide, all over Tumani."

  "None of the key meetings have involved the man himself," Lobo said. "He's too smart for that. So if Lim tries to blackmail him with information I've gathered, he'll deny everything, chide and fire the staffers who were in the meetings, and find reasons to send Lim and her entire team, including us, out of this planetary system."

  "Yeah," I said, nodding my head, "that makes sense. It wouldn't even be hard for him; reasons to close any operation are always easy to come by."

  "The situation is particularly difficult," Lobo said, "because the boys are citizens of Tumani, so the government does have the legal right to govern them."

  "This is abuse, not governing!" I said. My body shook with anger. "They're kids! The fact that they're from this planet doesn't mean we have to let its government destroy them."

  "No," Lobo said, his voice quiet and calm, "it doesn't. It does, though, mean that many other governments, including the two coalitions watching this planet, are unlikely to support outside interference in a sovereign entity's legitimate choices."

  "Legitimate? The coalitions can't consider the use of child soldiers as legitimate! They would never sanction this action on their planets."

  "No, they wouldn't," Lobo said, "which is why at best Wylak would deny any accusations, keep the boys here, and wait for any trouble to blow over before he did anything. Remember also that this is not a coalition planet."

  "At best?"

  "One of Wylak's contingency plans involves portraying Lim's operation as an illegal military action funded by the rebels and performed by off-planet mercenaries. The government troops surrounding the complex will claim they've been trying all along to persuade us to leave the boys alone."

  "So we become the bad guys," I said.

  "Yes. Worse, Wylak's people will then ask the two federations to intervene and help deport us."

  "Which he can do while claiming to be trying to save the boys."

  "Yes."

  "So, he's going to come here, soften up Lim, and sell his associates. Later, he'll return with two offers, one that lets her and the rest of us walk, and one that has us leaving under armed escort."

  "That's my analysis," Lobo said.

  "You have to hand it to him: It's a solid plan."

  "Yes, it is. So, what are we going to do about it?"

  "I'm not sure," I said, "but I know the first step is to talk to Lim." I headed for the side hatch. "This is not going to be fun."

  Chapter 42

  In the former rebel complex, planet Tumani

  "How sure are you of this information?" Lim said. The moment I'd mentioned the topic, she'd insisted we talk while walking far away from anyone else. The bright stars and gentle breezes made it a perfect night for a walk with a beautiful woman—unless she was your commander and you were delivering very bad news. She'd turned angry immediately and stayed that way.

  I couldn't blame her.

  "It's completely reliable," I said.

  "Your source?"

  I stopped and stared at her but said nothing.

  After a few seconds, she said, "If I act on this and you're wrong, I could destroy everything we've accomplished so far."

  "Two separate things," I said. "I'm not wrong. You know me well enough to know that I'd never bring this to you if I weren't sure of it. As for acting on it, you shouldn't do anything until we have a clear strategy."

  "That bastard!" Lim said. "And 'we' need a strategy? Last I checked, you were a damn janitor."

  I fought the urge to snap back and instead forced myself to respond in a cold, flat tone. "That's true, because I have no training in reintegrating child soldiers. This, though, is the sort of problem I know a great deal about. This is the kind of thing I do—and you know it."

  "Yeah," she said, nodding her head, "but I also know that sometimes your answers don't turn out entirely the way you planned. I still have the scar to prove it."

  "Perfect solutions are rare in this line of work—and you understood that when you agreed to help me before. As for the scar, you're the one who chose to keep it; the wound wasn't big enough that the medtechs couldn't have removed all traces of it."

  She smiled slightly and cocked her head. "Fair points. I thought the scar was rather dashing. Made me more attractive."

  As if you needed that, I thought but did not say as the starlight painted her face in gentle white and her smile glowed more brightly than the stars.

  "So," she said, the smile vanishing, "what do you recommend we do?"

  "Let's start with where we are now. What's your backup plan?"

  She shook her head. "We don't have one, as you already know. We figured the worst that would happen was that Wylak or someone else in the government would press us to finish a bit early. Even that seemed unlikely, because Chu's people are paying the tab and this is costing Tumani nothing. To be safe, though, we padded our time estimates. After our meeting with Wylak, it was clear that he'd be pressuring us, so I've been sending frequent status updates to placate him." She shrugged. "We thought that would be enough." She paused. "We could always take our case to the Tumani public."

  "She has indeed sent those updates," Lobo said to me privately over the comm, "but they've done nothing to change the situation."

  "Try to fight Wylak in the Tumani media," I said, "and he'll portray us as a gang of mercenaries who kidnapped and brainwashed these poor children. His connections have to be far better than ours. He'll get us booted off the planet and take the boys."

  "We could appeal to the two Coalitions."

  "They'd have to be willing to go against the planet's government, and they'd have to agree that both of them would do it together, because neither will let the other establish a stronger position here. No, no way that's happening. They'll stay out of it and let you and Wylak sort it out."

  "I'm back to my question," she said. "You pointed out that this is the sort of thing you handle. What do you recommend?"

  "For now, play along. Warmly welcome his inspection tour. Introduce his people to as many of the boys as possible
. Show them all the progress you've made. Maybe seeing it all in person will change his mind."

  She stared at me for a few seconds. "You don't believe that," she said.

  "No, I don't. In my experience, if you gamble on politicians giving a damn about anyone they send into battle, you're making a fool's bet."

  "So when playing along fails, what should we do?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know yet." I held up my hands to stop her from speaking. "But I haven't had any time to think about it. I came to you the moment I received this information. I'll come up with something, but I need more than a few minutes to work it out."

  "And when you do," she said, "will you tell me the whole plan?" She paused and stepped to within a hand's width of me. "Unlike last time?"

  I backed away. "It depends," I said. "It just depends."

  I left before she could respond.

  I wandered through the complex, staying on the glowing grass-and-sand paths that wound around and between the buildings, skirting the groups I encountered, listening to the forest life and the movements of the people and letting my mind settle. The night bugs and small creatures sounded the same as when we'd first crept up to the edge of the jungle on the evening we arrived. The noises from the boys, though, had changed. In the first week, they'd rarely spoken to the adults, and when any of us had come near them, they'd either scurried away or dropped into voices so soft no one could hear them without assistance. The place had buzzed like an angry insect with indecipherable sounds that hinted of whispered plans and threats. Now, though, laughter and conversations filled the buildings and the social areas, where kids and adults mixed freely and comfortably. Here and there, two or three or four boys stood by themselves and mumbled to one another, but those groups were now the exception and not the norm.

  A boy maybe fifteen or sixteen darted from between two barracks. He carried a ball and shrieked wildly, as did the two kids chasing him. At first glance, he reminded me of Manu Chang, the psychic boy that Maggie and Jack and I had rescued and helped escape to Maggie's group.