Cibola Burn

“Help her,” he croaked at the woman who reached down to help him up. He pushed himself up to his hands and knees, but stopped there, too dizzy to stand.

Another member of the security team was already bending over her. “This one’s dead.”

Holden collapsed back to the ground, suddenly robbed of strength. Too late. The big meat grinder he was trying to save these people from just kept chewing away relentlessly, and they kept lining up to throw themselves inside. The RCE people were helping up their fallen comrade, and she was insisting that she was fine, that the armor had stopped the round, that she’d just have a big bruise. Someone joked about idiots bringing slingshots to a gunfight, followed by laughter. All the while, the house burned, filling the air with acrid black smoke and the smell of hot epoxy and cooking pork.

The RCE people seemed to remember he was there, and several came over to look down at him. “Secure him,” one said. Wei. The one who’d come out to look at the alien robot with them. The one who’d shot it. She stared down, nothing like compassion in her eyes.

“Fuck you,” Holden said, trying to push himself back up to his feet. “You aren’t securing shit.”

Wei smashed him in the chest with her rifle butt, knocking him back to the ground. One of the other security people pointed his rifle at Holden. He found himself thinking it was very likely he was about to be shot.

“Hold on, now,” a calm voice said. Murtry strode into view out of the darkness. “No one’s shooting Captain Holden.”

“He tried to help the terrorists,” Wei said.

“Did he?” Murtry feigned shock. “You didn’t, did you? That would be a violation of the neutrality of your position here, wouldn’t it?”

“I tried to help a woman who’d been shot,” Holden replied, slowly climbing to his feet. His sternum felt bruised. That was all right. It would only hurt when he breathed.

“That sounds reasonable,” Murtry said. “Is that the extent of his aid to the terrorists?”

Wei nodded, then looked away, annoyed.

“Then there’s no reason to detain you,” Murtry continued, his voice full of good cheer. He’s insane, Holden thought. He’s gone completely over the edge. I could kill him right now and end this. In his mind, he could picture Miller nodding in approval at the thought.

“Sir,” Wei said, bringing her rifle up to her shoulder and aiming into the darkness beyond the firelight. “Incoming.”

“Hold your panties,” Amos said from the dark and stepped into the light. He had Basia Merton and Carol Chiwewe and a number of other colonists with him.

“My God,” Carol said, looking at the fire. “Did anyone get out?”

One of the security people pointed his rifle at the body lying on the ground. “She did.”

“Zadie,” Basia said. “They killed her.”

Murtry stepped forward and cleared his throat. When everyone was looking at him, he said, “My team surrounded the house where a cell of known terrorists were actively preparing to murder myself, the entire RCE security detachment, and Captain Holden. They had firearms and possibly explosives. When the RCE security team demanded that they exit the building unarmed and with their hands up, they opened fire. All of the terrorists were killed by the return fire. It’s possible that explosives the terrorists were planning to use acted as an accelerant when the house started burning. Everything done here was by the book and appropriate for protecting RCE personnel and the UN/OPA mediator from harm.”

Carol looked at blazing house with a stunned expression. “Appropriate…”

“Mister Merton,” Murtry continued. “So glad you could join us. Sergeant Wei, take Basia Merton into custody.”

“What?” Basia said, raising his hands and backing up. “Why me?”

“No,” Holden said, stepping in front of Wei and planting his hand on the breastplate of her armor. “Not happening.”

“Mister Merton was a party to this conspiracy,” Murtry said, speaking loud enough for the gathering crowd of colonists to hear. “He attended the secret meeting at which the attack was planned, and there is significant evidence that he was a participant in the attack which killed five of my people. Might have something to say about what happened to Governor Trying too.” Lowering his voice, he said, “Out of the way, Holden, or we’ll just go through you.” Wei smiled at him without humor. One of the other RCE people walked around them toward Basia, a plastic wrist restraint in his hands.

Amos stepped in front of Basia and punched the RCE man in the face. It sounded like a hammer hitting a side of beef. The security man fell to the ground, a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Nope,” Amos said, then shook his right hand with a grimace and added, “Ouch.”

The rest of the security team brought their rifles to bear on him. Holden saw Amos drop his right hand toward his gun, then stepped in front of him and yelled, “Stop!”