Chapter 19: Truth

Anton really hated sitting in a wheelchair. Yes, he had had a heart attack. But, he was perfectly capable of standing. He was quite sure he could walk as well. The drugs they had given him relieved the pain in his chest. He was a bit tired, but the battle had been fierce and he had fallen ill at the end. So, why did they make him sit in this chair?

"Anton," Dr. Walter said. "I know what is going on in your head. I am here to tell you that you need time to heal and we need to put you in cardiac rehab. You will find it physically challenging, but you will overcome this challenge as you have many others. In the meantime, please stay in the chair. It will make things better for all of us. You are a brave soldier. I do not want to fight you!"

Anton gave Dr. Walter a look of resignation. "Fine," he said. "That is what the Americans say when they disagree with you, but I will do what you want anyway. Fine. But there is one condition. I want to see him and when I do he will only see me on my own two feet. I will not allow him to see me in a wheelchair!"

"Fine," Dr. Walter replied. "I have a condition as well. Take one of these nitroglycerin pills before going in to 'visit' your old 'friend.' After that do not spend more than 15 or at the most 20 minutes with him. It would be to stressful for you. Understand?"

Anton looked at Dr. Walter, nodded his head and replied simply, "Da."

'+++++'

Donghai sat at a table in a room that contained only the table and one other chair. His wrists were in handcuffs and these shackled him to the table. For the last hour he had sat there calling and demanding to be released. There was no excuse treating him like this. Like a common criminal! When he and his group took over this colony he would see that those who had abused him would wish for their own deaths.

The door opened and in walked Commander Ramirez in casual military uniform.

"Good morning Donghai Liu," she said quite simply.

Looking at her Donghai held up his hands as best he could and boldly stated, "Who are you and what is the meaning of this? I demand to be allowed to contact my government immediately. This is a disgraceful way to treat a Chinese taikonaut on a peaceful mission of exploration. It is a violation of the Mars treaty! Release me immediately."

Mia walked over and sat down across from Donghai. Her eyes traced his restraints from his wrists to the table and further to the anchor in the floor. She sat and looked a the man for about a minute.

Donghai stared back at her. He said, "Are you unable to speak? Answer my questions and release me." It sounded very much like an order.

Very calmly Mia stated, "I am Commander Ramirez. I am in charge of this base. I might consider releasing Donghai Liu. But that is not who you are."

"Are you crazy woman?" Donghai responded. He was now starting to get a little worried. What did this woman know? "Of course I am Donghai Liu. You were sent my picture and information. I am a taikonaut. My government has supplied this information to you already."

"I am quite aware of the things your government has supplied," Mia replied still keeping her tone steady and quiet. "I certainly hope there was never a Donghai Liu who met some terrible fate."

"My name is a common one in China," Donghai replied. Adopting a more conciliatory tone he stated, "Surely someone has fed you false information. Like you I am an explorer only trying to carry out his mission."

Mia shook her head and pursed her lips. "What is you mission? I mean your real mission."

"To explore Mars. The same as you," Donghai replied.

Mia quietly stated, "I don't think so. I think your mission is to take over this colony and force its inhabitants to mine the valuable minerals of this land for China."

"Preposterous," Donghai stated flatly. Surely he could bluff this simple woman.

"No. I think I am right," Mia said. "You see, a simple taikonaut is an explorer and would not undertake such a monsterous mission."

In his anger Donghai spit out, "Fantasy. You have been reading too many old science fiction novels. Do I look like some kind of boogeyman?" He chastised himself for showing anger as soon as it came out.

Smirking, Mia said softly, "Actually, yes you do."

"Crazy woman," Donghai replied.

"Maybe not as crazy as you think," Mia responded. In a much harder tone and a louder voice she said, "Donghai Liu may not look like a boogeyman, but just as Dr. Jekyll had his Mr. Hyde you have another identity."

Donghai was now getting worried. What did this woman know? He hoped that he had not started to sweat, but he did feel hot.

Mia continued, "You see, I know that you are not some taikenaut named Donghai Liu. Your name is Bojing Dong. And you Mr. Dong are wanted for war crimes." Opening a pocket Mia removed a piece of paper. She did this quite slowly in order to increase the effect. As she slowly unfolded it she looked at her prisoner and said, "I am officially placing you under arrest for war crimes committed during the robot war. Upon return to Earth you will arrive in Europe, where you will be turned over to the International War Crimes Tribunal in The Hague. You are charged with multiple violations of the Geneva Convention and your crimes include torturing prisoners of war. Altering your appearance doesn't fool modern identification systems. We have your DNA to prove who you are."

"You lie," Bojing said. "This is clearly a racist act on your part. You are trying to keep Asians out of your colony."

Mia stared back at him, "Think what you like. It will change nothing. Now someone wants to talk to you about your real mission here. I suggest that you answer his questions truthfully and immediately." She stood up and left the room.

Bojing sat there and stared at the door as it closed behind her. These Americans and Europeans. They might speak harshly, but they were weak cowards. There was nothing they could do to make him talk. Making someone talk was a skilled art. Sometimes a judicious application of pain would loosen the tongue. Sometimes the mere anticipation of pain was sufficient. They would do nothing.

The door opened and Bojing watched the old man shuffle in and sit down across from him. The guy really looked bad. He was pale, clearly has some difficulty walking. Was this his interrogator? Did they really think that this poor excuse for a man would be able to get intelligence from him. They were crazy.

The old man smiled at Bojing and extended his left hand. Bojing lifted his shackled right hand and extended it, though he was just a few centimeters short of meeting the hand that was offered to him.

Anton smiled at Bojing. With a single motion he grabbed Bojing's wrist, pinned his hand to the table and using his right hand plunged a military knife through it. As Bojing screamed in pain he instinctively reached for the handle of the knife to remove it. That is when he found that the shackles were too short. In that moment of realization Anton repeated the move and pinned Bojing's left hand to the table with another military knife. Bojing continued screaming in pain.

Anton yelled at Bojing, "So, Dong, we meet again. You were Colonel Dong when we first met. I was simply a lieutenant in the Spetsnaz. We first met in Mongolia during the war. You hurt some of my friends very badly. Others you killed very slowly."

Eyes wide open Bojing just looked at the man. He wanted to free his hands from the knives.

Looking at Bojing, Anton remarked rather casually, "I suggest that you do not move your hands. First, it will only cause you excruciating pain. Second, if you do nothing your hands will recover. If you move however, then you will cut tendons, nerves, and muscles so that your hands become useless. If you struggle too hard, then you may cut an artery and bleed to death. That would be unfortunate. I expect us to have a nice talk and you will tell me everything I want to know. When we are done, then I will remove the knives and the doctor will treat your wounds – which at the moment are actually quite minor – except for the pain, of course."

Amidst his screaming in pain, Bojing felt his anger and hatred rise. He wanted nothing more than to kill this running dog.

Anton backed his chair up a little bit and then repositioned himself. He crossed his legs and made himself as comfortable as possible. Feeling a little peckish, he pulled out a granola bar and began to eat it slowly. He made sure he got every crunch possible out of it. Right now there was time to kill while Bojing calmed down. By the time he had finished his snack, Bojing looked like he might be ready to talk.

Anton started off, "So, Dong, tell me what you mission is here on Mars."

"Go to hell," Bojing replied.

Anton sighed, "I probably will. You do many horrible things in the special forces. I have done them all. The priest back home says that God will forgive. I hope so."

Bojing sneered at him, "There is no god. You are just superstitious."

"Maybe," Anton replied. "But I find the concept preferable than just the blackness of eternal oblivion. I would note that even Mao told the American President Nixon that he 'heard God calling' to him. Still, you might wish to tell me about your mission. It would certainly put off your meeting with God or eternal oblivion. Besides, it would bring you relief for your hands."

Bojing made a grunting sound in response.

Anton sat and stared at Bojing Dong. He had spent time after the war working with Russian intelligence trying to locate this pig. Bojing was a 'princeling' from a family placed highly in both the communist party and the army. His arrogance and high-handedness were constantly reinforced by the wealth, power, and privilege he enjoyed. Other people, especially foreigners, meant nothing to him. Bojing was a psychopath. He was happy to help the 'cause of the war' by committing dozens of atrocities. Anton imagined this had been the way of some of the Nazis during the Great Patriotic War that the West called World War II. Russia suffered terribly in that war. They suffered terribly in the robot war as well, except that much of the suffering was in Siberia rather than in European Russia. To be Russian was to suffer.

The verbal back and forth went on for the entire morning. Then Anton announced, "I need to go and get my lunch. I will see you in a while." With that statement he rose and walked out the door. With the door secured Anton slumped into his wheelchair. Ludmilla wheeled him back to the main habitat, where she took him to the infirmary.

The two talked as she rolled him along.

Ludmilla said, "I think you need to take a break. This has been a stressful morning for you. Just seeing that man is bad enough, but having to interrogate him as well? What was Commander Ramirez thinking?"

"I asked for this my love," Anton stated. "Bring me something to eat. I will rest and then see Dong later. In the meantime I believe Erwin will be talking to him. I would like to hear that conversation!"

Ludmilla chuckled, "I am glad I am not Daria! Think of all that poor woman has to read, watch, and listen to! Keeping the history of this colony is getting quite complex. It is not just about gathering samples and building hooches anymore."

Anton laughed, "Yes. I like that little American woman, but I do not think she really has the stomach for hard times. I think our situation here is turning slowly into a Russian novel. More and more people are suffering. I dread what may come next. Maybe real aliens will attack us!"

'+++++'

Daria felt numb. She had set up the system for automatically transcribing, and if necessary translating, as well as logging the interrogations. Commander Ramirez wanted transcripts only. No video or audio was to be collected or kept of the sessions. From what little Daria could surmise the conditions were not good in those rooms. She was worried that some of what was going on might be classified as torture, but all she was able to access was the written records.

Thinking about the meeting she had a few hours earlier with Mia, Daria was not at all satisfied. She respected Mia and Mia was the commander. Still, Daria was not pleased at what she was seeing in these transcripts. No matter how badly they wanted information, her point to Mia was that torture would only elicit what they wanted to hear and not necessarily the truth. For the most part Mia agreed with her and stated that with the exception of Bojing Dong, there was no torture. They were not being made comfortable or given any feeling of safety. However, there was no physical abuse. Even Mia felt that Anton had let his anger get the best of him and gone too far. However, unlike the other prisoners, Anton knew this guy. She was watching the situation and if there was any real threat to Dong's life, then she would step in. Mia was willing to let Anton complete his interrogation. He was by far the most experienced interrogator on Mars.

So far after about 12 hours all but one of the prisoners had broken. Progress was being made. They had admitted to knowing about the robot invasion. All but one had admitted to their real identities. All but one had revealed their part of the mission. The one that remained defiant was their leader, Bojing Dong.

'+++++'

Anton sat once again across from Bojing Dong. The man did not look well. The knives through his hands probably had something to do with it. For the past two hours Anton had been showing Bojing pictures from the war and after the war. He knew these pictures had been cleared and that the people who obtained the pictures were either safe or already dead. In either case, Anton walked Boijing through the war crimes he – Bojing – had committed and how his face had been transformed after the war. What could not be transformed, however, was Bojing's DNA. Erwin had gone over the pictures with him before. Anton went over the DNA evidence.

"Alright," Bojing wearily stated. "I am Colonel Bojing Dong. I was a soldier like you and I followed my orders."

Anton smiled. It was rare for Anton to smile. He rarely smiled. As a good Russian he smiled when there was a reason to smile. He never quite understood why the Americans cultivated smiling the way they did. He though it made them seem mentally deficient – which he knew well that they were not. "That defense did not work at Nuremberg and it won't work in The Hague either."

Pausing for a minute or two, Anton looked at his enemy. Anton breathed in deeply, then said somewhat quietly, "So, Dong. You admit your true identity. That is the first step in improving your situation. Now, tell me about your mission here on Mars. Your real mission."

Bojing looked at Anton. He was weary, in pain, and could not endure much longer. He knew he needed medical treatment. The nausea was becoming unbearable. As always, he could probably put together what this dog wanted to hear. He could also probably put together enough half-truths for his masters back in Beijing to keep himself out of prison and maybe even get them to send a hit man once this old man returned to Earth. He would have plenty of time to put together a coherent story with his comrades on the MTV as they flew back to Earth. No one else on the thing would be able to speak Mandarin, so they would be free to converse.

Bojing cleared his throat. "Very well. I will tell you of our mission. It is very simple. The Groundfighters were supposed to subdue you. I suppose that you would not like to tell me how you defeated them."

"How were they expected to do that?" Anton asked in a calm and steady voice.

"I do not know. I expect that since you were supposed to be unarmed they would just punch through your outer walls and herd you into an area and we would find you there. Frankly, the people in charge of that did not share their strategy with us. We knew only that we expected to alight from the landing craft, kill the others with us as quickly as possible, take their oxygen, and then walk to the colony. Once here we would enter the colony and meet up with the robots. We had code words they would understand. This would give us control over their actions and through them control over you and therefore the colony. Now will you remove these things and get me some medical attention?"

Anton stared at him for a moment. Then he said, "One more thing. What is the purpose of taking the colony? What would you do once you had taken command?"

"We want the mineral resources for our own use and to hold a monopoly on Martian resources. With the colony in hand, we would be in the position to destroy any approaching spacecraft and hold this territory."

With a look of disgust, Anton asked, "And what about the people here. What would you have done with them?"

Bojing gave Anton a wry grin. "I would have enjoyed watching you work until you die. Once the colony was in hand we would bring in our own people and you would serve us until you either died of natural causes or we chose to terminate you. The fact is that you are so old that you are of little value to us. We might simple take you to the nearest airlock and dispose of you. You can thank me that I would grant you such a quick death."

Anton looked at Bojing. Then he sneered, "You will get no thanks from me you dog. If it was up to me you would not have a quick death. You can be thankful that your fate is not up to me. You are lucky that I keep my promises." With that Anton stood up, pinned Bojing's wrists with his left forearm and then with his right withdrew the knives.

Bojing screamed in pain. He looked down at the blood oozing from his hands. The pain was excruciating.

Anton rose and looked at Bojing. He stated simply, "Now I will go and summon the doctor to treat you." He turned and walked out of the room. Outside Ludmilla was waiting with his wheelchair.

"You do not look well my love," Ludmilla said.

"That is too bad," Anton replied. "I feel quite good. I may not have had total revenge on that pig, but at least I was able to serve the dish cold. I hope he spends the rest of his life in a Dutch prison thinking about our encounter. He deserves no less."

Ludmilla looked at her husband and then started pushing his wheelchair. She said nothing.

"Take us to the infirmary," Anton said. "I need to tell Dr. Walter to come and treat the pig before he is moved."

"Why do you not just call him?" Ludmilla asked.

"Because it will take longer to get there and prolong Dong's pain," Anton replied. "Dong is only oozing blood. He could sit there for hours and not bleed to death. I am very good with my knives! But, I promised him that I would get the doctor to treat him and I am a man of my word. I did not say how quickly the doctor would come."

After a couple of minutes Ludmilla stated, "Maybe the doctor can give you something as well. You could probably use some more nitroglycerin. I see pain on your face. Dr. Walter just finished repairing your heart!" From that point on neither of them said anything until they reached the infirmary, where Anton told Dr. Walter that he had a patient to treat.