To War Is Human

[I Am Spartacus]

Here is the first two thirds of the first chapter of a book I have written. Please provide feedback. Thank you very much.

***

To War Is Human
Chapter One
July 13, 2347
Tassius Four

As Kevin Connelly stepped off the bus, it exploded, sending him flying into the pavement. He struggled to get himself off the ground, and turned over to look at someone whose face was no longer there.

He picked himself up, and ran towards a lone police officer standing in the middle of all the chaos.

"What's going on!?"

"Get yourself outta here!"

"Where?!"

"Anywhere!"

Kevin turned and ran towards the open gate. His mind focused solely in that hole in the madness, that eye of the hurricane leading to the safety of the world beyond.

He cleared the gate and for one second he thought he was in the clear. He stopped running, failing to notice the emergency crews starting to stream into the area. His faced cast downward, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath while walking across the street.

He tripped and fell down onto the street. Struggling to pull himself up, he flipped over and was met by the barrel of a gun.

"I caught him sir, he was running," declared the rifle-toting soldier.

"Throw him in the back of the truck with the others," said another standing right behind the first soldier.

Kevin found himself handcuffed in the back of a military truck with a dozen other people, half of them leaking blood into a pool on the floor. The adrenaline wore off and the pain returned, shocking Kevin into unconsciousness.

***

"Kevin Mitchell Connelly," a plainclothes officer read aloud from a computer pad. "Twenty-five years of age, non-immigrant visa, no criminal record, yada yada yada "

"And who the hell are you?!" Kevin demanded. "Where the hell is my passport? Or my wallet? When do I get my televox call?"

"Oh boy, you can't be serious," the officer laughed and turned towards the one way mirror. "Hey guys, this kid thinks he gets a televox call! Can you believe it?"

"You can't scare me with this secret police crap," Kevin growled. "I know my rights, give me a televox, and give it to me now!"

"The name's Bartell," the man announced. "And you'd do yourself well to show me the proper level of respect."

"What do you want from me?"

"You're from the Sol system?"

"That's right."

"Hmmm " Bartell leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Earth tourist visiting the fringe. It's a good cover story for another separatist bombing. You tried to run, instead of heading to designated safety zones where emergency crews were headed. And your bag was conveniently destroyed at the scene, I think because it contained the bomb."

"Look, you know I'm new in town," Kevin said. "I was told by a policeman to run, so I just ran as fast and as far as I could. I wasn't thinking, I was just trying to save my own life. What the hell is so unreasonable about that? All my documentation supports it."

"What wasn't destroyed," Bartell played with him. "A single computer pad containing your passport and some money doesn't amount to much in the way of evidence. Besides, many tourists obtain non-immigrant S visas instead of tourist P visas."

"I'm no tourist," Kevin had to work hard to avoid exploding in rage. "I moved here. If you knew how to read, you'd see that my visa permits employment here."

"If you're not a tourist, what are you doing here, Connelly?" Bartell asked. "I can't think of one good reason someone from the Sol system would ever want to visit a shithole like this. I was born and raised here and even I wouldn't have anything to do with this place if it was up to me."

"I've always wanted to live here. I came here to set up a new life away from everything I had on Earth."

"I'm listening."

"It may be a shithole to you, but it's exotic to me," Kevin let his shoulders sag slightly, thinking he was actually getting through to Bartell. "I've always been an explorer, and this is a place that is new to me, so I came."

"Maybe I'm off my rocker, 'cause I believe you," Bartell stood up, threw down the computer pad, and turned his back to Kevin. "But my gun doesn't!"

Bartell whirled around and pointed his pistol straight between Kevin's eyes.

"You were on the bus, walked the street, and survived," Bartell nearly yelled. "No one else did. You had to have done it, end of discussion."

"I'm telling you it wasn't me!" Kevin screamed. "I just got off a flight and caught the bus into town! I don't know anything about any bomb or any secession! And in case you didn't notice, I didn't exactly get through it all without a scratch!"

Bartell moved forward and pressed the gun's muzzle into Kevin's forehead. Kevin put the mightiest scowl he could muster on his face, pressing his head forward into the gun.

"Alright, you're free to go," Bartell put his gun back into its holster.

"Just like that?" Kevin blinked.

"Just like that."

***

The deceptively short, slender woman cast down the documents she had been reading and let out a frustrated sigh. In some ways, this could have been considered a good day for her; at least the bomb went off. The only problem was that it went off in the wrong part of town, in the bus station instead of a powerplant. That completely nullified her objectives, and would result in more criticism from the higher ups.

"Karen, could you take a look at this? I need you to approve it so we can get this thing moving ASAP" asked Doug Hunter, one of Karen's most trusted colleagues.

"Sure thing Doug," she replied. It was a manifest of the latest small arms shipment being smuggled into the city to be hidden in one of their weapons caches that were spread out over the city. Looking over it, she was a little miffed that there were no new weapons types in this shipment; just the standard array of rifles and grenades, with a handful of missile launchers thrown in for good measure.

"God damnit," she cursed loudly and clenched a fist. "Why is there none of the-"

"Don't ask," came her co-worker's reply. He didn't even look up. "Every time you ask me to ask them why none of the heavy stuff you request is in the latest shipment, the answer that always comes back is 'don't ask.'"

Karen had worked hard for a couple of years to put together a team that would keep things running as smoothly as possible, so she could do her job as effectively as possible. Unfortunately for her, in this particular line of work being effective meant being quiet. Quiet so that her suppliers never noticed her - or her needs.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I just would appreciate some answers every once in a while."

"Well, Karen, they don't pay us to be nosey," Doug laughed.

"Wait, you mean they pay us for this?" Karen smirked as she fired back while backing away from the table.

"Speaking of nosy, I've got another round of recruits in the other room waiting to be briefed "

"Right, right, I almost forgot," Karen slapped her forehead. "Send them in."

The door swished open and a dozen young men filed into the room, each taking a seat in front of Karen.

"Congratulations on making it this far. I know your service to the Front will be invaluable in bringing our people's revolution to fruition," Karen Ballard addressed the group "During your service to the activist organizations you've displayed a level of determination and revolutionary consciousness far above that of your peers. As such, you've been chosen to make the leap from student activists to full time guerrillas, though you'll all need extensive training first.

"By now you've probably heard about the bomb that went off at a bus station downtown," Karen continued. "That was us."

"Why did you set off a bomb in a very public place like that?" one of them piped up. "Innocent people were killed."

"Why did we set off the bomb there?" Karen corrected him. "We targeted a military truck transporting arms to a base in a contested area. They stopped to refuel at a civilian transit station unexpectedly. The plan called for the truck to be destroyed when they were inside a police compound, but for some reason they detoured. The loss of civilian life was completely unintentional."

Karen had always been a good liar.

"Anyways, you've been selected because you have shown that you are willing to act, and I expect you to make great contributions to our revolutionary cause. Who knows, perhaps in the coming months we shall meet again, I will be addressing you as sir. Maybe you will even have medals pinned to your breasts by the great Kostowitz himself."

That grabbed the attention of every single one of them.

"For now, I have orders to send you to a combat training camp in the countryside," Karen continued. "I can't tell you where exactly, only that you'll learn how to be soldiers there. You're to be here tomorrow at noon. A van will take you there."

She paused for a moment to gauge their reactions. Half of them were wide eyed, salivating at the mere thought of taking up arms against the government. These were the ones who would live through it. The other half were cringing at that same thought. These were the ones that would be lucky to last a month.

"You are permitted to bring one small bag of personal belongings. No electronics such as cameras or mobile televoxes," Karen advised. "Any questions?"

A couple of the young men squirmed in their seats, almost raising their hands before quickly withdrawing them.

"Good, go home and prepare for your journey. Be on time, lateness will not be tolerated."

She motioned back towards the door they came through, and the young men quickly departed. Karen took a long, hard look at the red and gold flag draped across the rear wall, and had to consciously remind herself that it was for her beloved Tassian homeworld that she sent young men and women out to fight and die. Those that survived even a month out there up against security units wouldn't remember her name, yet she felt as though they were fighting for her, by proxy.

"They're getting greener all the time," Karen turned to her colleague. "Some of them have never even fired a rifle before."

"You know the orders," Doug replied. "Kostowitz wants us to step up recruiting efforts as he prepares to launch another offensive. All we're supposed to do is get more meat for the grinder."

Karen nodded her grim assent. She only hoped that these kids would fare better than the last bunch she sent to get shot up in the mountains.

***