Cain's Land Read online

  To Steve, Dan, Ellie, Teresa, and Angela, who helped. To Margie, who cheerfully endured while Steve helped. And to Suzie, who thinks I need to get a real job. Thanks for trying to keep me sane.

  PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS_________________________________

  Former Personnel, 1st Battalion, 35th Infantry (Rifle)

  Lieutenant-Colonel (retired) Anton Vereshchagin (“The Variag”), former battalion and task-group commander

  Lieutenant-Colonel (retired) Matti Harjalo, former battalion commander

  Major (retired) Piotr Kolomeitsev (“The Iceman”), former A Company commander

  Major (reserve) Meri Reinikka, former Engineer Company commander

  Major (retired) Saki Bukhanov, former battalion intendance officer

  Captain (retired) Gennadi Karaev, former C Company executive officer

  Platoon Sergeant (retired) Roy “Filthy DeKe”, “The Deacon” de Kantzow, No. 9 rifle platoon

  Recruit Private (retired) Woldemar Prigal, formerly assigned to 1st section, No. 15 light attack platoon

  Active Personnel, 1/35th Infantry

  Lieutenant-Colonel Hans Coldewe, battalion commander

  Major Daniel “Danny” Meagher, executive officer

  Lieutenant Resit Aksu (“The Smiling Buddha”), intelligence officer

  Captain Detlef Jankowskie, commanding frigate General Hendrik Pienaar

  Chief Gunner Nicolas Sery, frigate General Hendrik Pienaar

  Senior Communications Sergeant Esko Poikolainnen

  Major Tikhon Degtyarov, A Company commander

  Major Jan Snyman, C Company commander

  Natasha Solchava-Snyman, battalion surgeon

  Company Sergeant Isaac Wanjau, C Company

  Flight Sergeant Ivan “Coconut” Kokovtsov, aviation company

  Section Sergeant Mikhail Remmar, 1st section, No.15 light attack platoon

  Superior Private Valeska Remmar, 1st section, No.15 light attack platoon

  No. 17 Reconnaissance Platoon, 1/35th Infantry

  Section Sergeant Thys Meiring, 1st section

  Section Sergeant Markus Alariesto. 2nd section

  Section Sergeant Vsevolod Zerebtsov, 3rd section

  Assistant Section Sergeant Kalle Kekkonen, 1st section

  Superior Private Denys Gordimer, 1st section

  Superior Private Blaar Schuur, 1st section

  No. 9 Rifle Platoon, 1/35th Infantry

  Lieutenant Mika Hiltunen, platoon leader

  Platoon Sergeant Kaarlo Kivela

  Section Sergeant Dmitri “Bory” Uborevich, 1st section

  Section Sergeant Fedya “Mother Elena” Yelenov, 2nd section

  Superior Private Gerrit Myburgh, 3rd section

  Corporal Kobus Nicodemus, assigned special duties

  Superior Private Brit Smits, assigned special duties

  Suid-Afrikans

  Dr. Simon Beetje, professor of Suid-Afrikan ecology, University of Suid-Afrika

  Dr. Maria Beetje, professor of Suid-Afrikan ecology, University of Suid-Afrika

  Betje Beyers, widow of Republic of Suid-Afrika president Albert Beyers

  Father Nicola Bosenac, Franciscan priest

  Klaes De la Rey, Suiwerheidwagte (Silvershirt) leader

  Dr. Connie Marais, associate professor of modern languages, University of Suid-Afrika

  Eva Moore, hospital director and former Imperial lieutenantcolonel

  Hendricks “Rikki” Sanmartin, student

  Andries Steen, president of the Republic of Suid-Afrika and Reformed Nationalist party leader

  Prinsloo Adriaan Smith, burgemeester of Johannesburg and Union party leader

  Hannes Van der Merwe, Suiwerheidwagte (Silvershirt) adjutant

  Liyu Ssu, political analyst and former Imperial censor

  Imperials

  Major Mitsuru Aichi, No. 305 Independent Infantry Company commander

  Ship Captain Yotaro Kobayashi, commanding Imperial frigate Aoba

  Dr. Tomomi Motofugi, professor of linguistics, University of Go-Nihon

  Akira Mutaro, sector commissioner

  Commander Jochi Nitobe, commanding Imperial corvette Jintsu

  Dr. Kantaro Ozawa, assistant professor of biology, University of Go-Nihon

  Dr. lnagi Seki, deputy sector commissioner

  Dr. Ferenc Szuba, professor of physics, University of Go-Nihon

  Dr. Pia Szuba, professor of sociology, University of Go-Nihon

  Blues

  Ekpalawehud

  Meniolagomeka

  Spoagusa

  PROLOGUE______________________________

  Go-Nihon system, inbound

  AS THE PROBE ENTERED THE GO-NIHON SYSTEM, IT DECELERATED IN ACCORDANCE WITH ITS programming, and prepared to assume orbit around the third potentially Earth-like planet it had come across in its travels. Imperial frigate Aoba broadcast a coded signal to shut the probe down, and set a course to intercept it.

  Dwarfed in Aoba's cavernous shuttle bay, petty officers Ryohei Noma and Kazuo Hosoya waited in space suits. “It appears strange,” Hosoya commented indignantly in the somewhat stilted classical English the Imperial Navy still favored, “almost wasteful that this probe was not programmed toignore worlds that have already been colonized. It is fortunate that our ship will reduce by a year the amount of time it will take the probe's data to reach Earth, but the matter should have been thought of.”

  Grateful for the diversion from the ship's otherwise monotonous colonial routine, a dozen more of Aoba's crewmen watched and waited above the bay to assist Hosoya and Noma.

  Noma checked his helmet one final time and gave his younger colleague an amused and pitying look. “If Go-Nihon had been discovered at the time the probe was launched. it is possible that its programmers might have anticipated this.”

  “How long has this probe been traveling?”' Hosoya asked in a moderately embarrassed voice.

  “Forty-two years have elapsed for the probe since it was launched. As our computer could have told you.”

  The crewmen above them began opening the shuttle bay's clamshell doors. “What will happen to the probe after we recover it?” Hosoya asked.

  “I am certain that it will be given to a museum somewhere,” Noma said, with greater accuracy than he realized.

  As they jetted out to the probe on a “pig” -essentially a manned torpedo-- trailing a cable, Hosoya continued a long-running discussion. “I am of the view that you should at least consider the possibility of settling on Go-Nihon.”

  In the pig's rear seat, Noma wrinkled his nose. “And become a dirt dweller?”

  “With time dilation, hardly anyone on Earth will want to know us if we go back, and for persons like ourselves, there are plenty of opportunities here as well as on the other zaibatsu worlds. Don't forget, an immigrant ship is arriving in two months' time with Amida knows how many young ladies eager to meet a pair of clean-cut sailors, so you should not make up your mind so firmly. Another colonial tour on a Navy ship would drive both of us mad!” Hosoya argued.

  Colonial tours were peaceful affairs. The only potential trouble spot in Aoba's sector was the planet Suid-Afrika with its single frigate. “We are almost there,” Noma said firmly.

  As they slowed beside the motionless probe, Hosoya extended a gloved hand, pointing to a scarring along the side of the probe's fusion bottle. “Look, a meteor strike. It was fortunate she survived.”

  “Not a meteor. Possibly a flock of micrometeoroids. Pull us up alongside.”

  After they finished hooking the cable to the probe's nose, Noma drifted back to examine the damage.

  “What does it look like?” Hosoya asked.

  Noma pulled a pair of needle-nosed pl
iers from his equipment belt. Deftly feeling under the probe's metal skin, be extracted a thumb-sized object and focused his light on it for his companion.

  “What is it?” Hosoya asked.

  “It is an octahedron made of very hard metal, possibly tungsten steel.”

  “The Suid-Afrikans must have fired a satellite-killer at it! But why would they do that?”

  “The Suid-Afrikans' frigate has never come within light years of this probe,” Noma said flatly.

  “But if the Suid-Afrikans didn't shoot at it, who could have?”Hosoya protested.

  Noma ignored him. Carefully tucking the octahedron in his belt, be keyed his radio to Aoba's operating frequency. “Noma here. Please advise Captain Kobayashi that it would be exceedingly desirable for him to come to the shuttle bay.”

  FAITH__________________________________

  “Oh, we're having a war, and we want you to come!”

  So the pig began to whistle and to pound on a drum.

  “We'll give you a gun, and we'll give you a hat!”

  And the pig began to whistle when they told the piggies that.

  -Excerpt from “The Whistling Pig,” anonymous

  Suid-Africa, Landing Day plus 1167 weeks

  Monday (1167)

  WARMED BY SUID-AFRIKA'S SUN, LIEUTENANT-COLONEL HANS Coldewe walked briskly down the Krugerstraat. A few of Johannesburg's younger boys followed him at a discreet distance. Of medium height and slender, Coldewe was commanding officer of Suid-Afrika's only permanent military unit, the 1/35th Rifle Battalion, and as such, the planet’s ranking military officer.

  As he walked, he whistled, as he often did, with an unlit pipe clenched upside down between bis teeth. The soldiers of the 1/35th were fond of pointing out that it had taken Coldewe quite a few years to perfect his technique. The song varied, depending on his mood. His current favorite was “The House Carpenter,” a grim old ballad of the sort that Coldewe whistled to cheer people up.

  As he reached the door he was looking for, a corporal named Gu opened it and admitted him.

  “Where's Anton'!' Coldewe asked pleasantly.

  “In the study waiting for the Imp commissioner to appear,” Gu responded, moving his body a fraction so that Coldewe could enter. Gu's scowl deepened. A stocky Manchurian, he had served as an Imperial soldier before Suid-Afrika won its inde pendence. Like many of Suid-Afrika's inhabitants, he disliked Imperial officials intensely.

  Coldewe patted him lightly on the arm. “Apart from the fact that we half wrecked the city of Tokyo, what could His Imperial Majesty's commissioner possibly have against us?” He followed Gu into the study where Anton Vereshchagin was waiting.

  Even with nearly twenty years of time dilation factored in, the years had treated Vereshchagin kindly. Although his graying hair was streaked with white, his body and unlined face belonged to

  a much younger man. He set down the book he was reading. “Hello, Hans.”

  The younger man smiled “Hello, Anton.” He walked over to the samovar and poured himself a cup of tea. “Do we have any idea why His Imperial Majesty's representative has acknowledged your existence?”

  “None whatever. I of course, reported Commissioner Mutaro's request to President Steen's government”

  “Steen and his cronies must be collectively excreting bricks.”

  “I must admit that Mutaro-san has an exquisite sense of timing.” Vereshchagin handed Coldewe a copy of Die Afrikaner and pointed to an article written about Steen's latest speech. “Steen announced economies in government spending, which means he wishes to further pare your budget”

  Coldewe nodded. “Yes, he's serious about clipping our wings, and he thinks he has the votes. What I would really like is to have Albert Beyers back to life for forty-five minutes.” Beyers, Suid-Afrika's first president, had died in the middle of his third term of office partly of a broken heart. “It would be almost as much fun as watching Christ in the temple with the money changers.”

  Gu reappeared, escorting a frail-looking Japanese man. “Commissioner Akira Mutaro,” he said with obvious distaste before departing.

  Coldewe and Vereshchagin exchanged bows with Mutaro. “I am Colonel Anton Vereshchagin, retired, and this is Lieutenant Colonel Hans Coldewe. Please, make yourself welcome.” Vereshchagin drew his guest a cup of tea.

  Mutaro seated himself in a large armchair, his deceptively soft eyes twinkling with amusement “Now, it is possible that you are asking yourselves why I have come here insisting on meeting former Colonel Anton Vereshchagin, after my govern ment acquiesced fO£ nine years in the polite fiction that Anton Vereshchagin died in his attack on Tokyo.”

  “I do find your government’s sudden interest unsettling,” Vereshchagin admitted.

  “Let me see,” Mutaro said in accent-free English.”As an Imperial officer, you fought in six campaigns on colonial planets, rising to the rank of lieutenant-colonel. You took command of the task force sent here after all officers senior to you were killed, and suppressed a revolt by this planet’s Afrikaner inhabitants. When a second Imperial task force arrived here under orders to uproot potential opposition and return the planet to the control of the United Steel-Standard corporation,. you led a second Afrikaner rebellion and annihilated the task group.”

  Vereshchagin inclined his head, acknowledging this.

  “You then took a captured frigate back to Earth and attacked the warships based at Yamato Space Station and selected targets in the city of Tokyo. You destroyed the headquarters of United Steel-Standard, assassinated several leading politicians, and gassed the ministries that advocated exploiting the federated na tions and colonial planets. Eleven hundred company employees and nearly two thousand civil servants were killed. Very tragic.”

  “Very tragic, indeed.” Vereshchagin agreed.

  “The reaction to your attack and the resulting financial dislocation, which I understand you also had a hand in, resulted in profound changes in the Imperial system, as well as eventual recognition of Suid-Afrika's independence.” Mutaro turned his head toward Coldewe. “Colonel Coldewe, I recall seeing you on television as spokesman for the landing force.”

  “We were broadcasting from the New Akasaki Prince Hotel. We left the rooms a mess, so I don't think the hotel's going to welcome me back any time soon,” Coldewe quipped

  Mutaro cocked his head as he sipped his tea. “Your secretary quite clearly disapproves of Japanese, Vereshchagin-san.”

  Vereshchagin smiled. “Corporal Gu came here with the sec ond task group. He was somewhat disillusioned by his experiences as an Imperial soldier and, I expect, somewhat apprehensive about returning to Earth after surrendering. He declined repatriation and requested permission to enlist in our battalion.”

  Coldewe grinned. “The Manchurians weren't too popular here, so we turned him down. We finally accepted about a dozen of them after they went on a hunger strike.”

  “It is curious that you should choose a Manchurian corporal to become your secretary,” Mutaro said, by indirection moving toward the question he really wanted answered.

  “Gu has earned himself a degree in communications from the university here,” Vereshchagin said, enjoying the fencing.

  “He's a wizard with a camera,” Coldewe interjected. “Anton is our War Academy, and I've been making Gu tape lectures. As I'm sure you're aware, Suid-Afrika's standing military forces aren't very large, so we have to make good use of our talent.”

  “Suid-Afrika's military forces are very small,” Mutaro agreed politely. “I believe that the active force is restricted by law to forty-five commissioned officers and 750 men. You currently have, I am told by my experts, one warship --the frigate General Hendrik Pienaar, formerly an Imperial ship-- and the 1st Battalion, 35th Rifles, consisting of three infantry companies, a light attack company, an aviation company, a combat engineer company, and a reconnaissance company. Yet some persons in your planet’s Assembly have recommended abolishing your active mili
tary forces as a useless drain on Suid-Afrika's treasury. Politics here seems to be taken quite personally. What was it that Heer Pirow called Colonel Coldewe in his speech last week?”

  “A vreemde fortuin-soeker, a foreign fortune-seeker,”' Coldewe replied curtly.

  “If my sources are correct, President Steen intends to further reduce the number of active soldiers.”

  Coldewe and Vereshchagin exchanged glances. “Your sources are to be commended,” Vereshchagin said dryly. “And since the Imperial Government, which you have the honor to represent, is Suid-Afrika's only potential enemy, I am not certain President Steen would be pleased to know that you are in possession of this information.”

  “I would suspect that you are correct to say this,” Mutaro said blandly. “Indeed, my sources tell me that President Steen views Suid-Afrika's military forces as a source of political patronage, and is motivated to reduce military spending partly out of pique at Colonel Coldewe's disinclination to steer contracts to his supporters. Colonel Coldewe's soldiers are also quite zealous in acting as game wardens. I understand that the planet’s hunting lobby has promised Steen considerable financial support in his endeavors.”

  Coldewe began choking.

  Mutaro winked solemnly. “I assure you from my inmost feelings of my belief that Imperial Japan is committed to a peaceful course of existence with Suid-Afrika. Nevertheless-”

  “'Nevertheless, it would be a sin to lead the Imperial Government into temptation by reducing our forces too drastically,” Vereshchagin concluded for him. “Colonel Coldewe and I will, of course, report the substance of this conversation to President Steen's government. I hope you will not mind if I quote you on this word for word.”

  “Naturally I would not be offended in any way.” Mutaro set his teacup down and leaned back in his chair. He looked at Vereshchagin. “Periodically, Japanese patriotic organizations demand punitive action against this planet to wipe the stain from the nation's honor, and such organizations have suggested that peace terms with Suid-Afrika should include rooting up your corpse and returning it to Japan, presumably for the nation to vent its outrage upon.”