Carmen shrugged to pretend the dispute didn’t anger her as much as it did. “They think the enemy will keep digging in, improving their hold on the parts of Ani they still occupy, and that the enemy retains the resolve and the means for offensive operations.”
Devish raised both eyebrows in surprise. “That’s not at all what we’re seeing.”
“Thank you!”
“They’re not even staging limited counterattacks. The argument that they’re strong enough to launch big attacks is so obviously wrong, why do you have to fight Redman over the issue? Why not just let her eventually be proven wrong?”
“Because,” Carmen said. She met Devish’s gaze with her own. “If the government believes that assessment, believes that the enemy is capable of holding out for a long time, will only keep improving their defenses, and could counterattack, what will the government order General Edelman to do?”
Devish hesitated, his mouth tightening. “Attack. Not just the constant pressure we’re putting on the enemy, but a major effort.”
“Advancing building by building,” Carmen said. “As fast as we can. Against a desperate enemy. How many more people will we lose?”
“A lot. We don’t have a lot left, but what’s left will be used up fast if we’re forced to make those kind of attacks.” Devish looked around him. “And building by building, more of Ani will get turned into rubble. What are you going to do?”
“Keep telling anyone who’ll listen what I think based on what we’re seeing here.”
“Can that Redman really recall you to Lodz?”
Carmen spread her hands in the age-old gesture of uncertainty. “You know how many things have been improvised to deal with the invasion. Including my exact status and my exact chain of command. Nothing has been written down anywhere saying who I have to listen to.”
Devish grinned. “I wish I could say that. Does the general know what’s going on?”
“I’m telling him what I think,” Carmen repeated. “And I’ve met a few people high in the government, people I got to know when Lochan Nakamura and I first came to Kosatka. I’m letting them see my reports, though technically I’m probably breaking some security rules there.”
“Technically?”
“Probably. I don’t know for sure.”
Another grin from Devish. “And you’re not fool enough to ask. May I offer some advice?”
“Sure. I’m better at listening to advice than I am at listening to orders,” Carmen said.
“Good.” Devish glanced out the doorway. “If I were you, with my status and chain of command a bit blurry, I’d be working to focus things the way I wanted them to be. Before someone else focused things the way they wanted.”
Carmen frowned. “Meaning I should ask the general to formalize my status as working for him?”
“Why is that hard? Word is he respects you.”
“Yeah, but . . .” Carmen felt the reason behind her reluctance, knowing its origins rested far from this world. “One of the lessons I learned on Mars was to stay under the radar of powerful people. Once they knew who I was, they’d try to use me.”
“Maybe not every lesson learned on Mars is applicable to Kosatka,” Devish suggested. “Listen. I’m not giving you this advice out of charity. It’s self-interest. You know what the situation is for our side in this fight. We’ve taken plenty of hits, lost a lot of people, we’re short on everything. Sure, we’re stumbling toward a win, but we’re not that far from collapsing. The only reason we’re winning is because the other guys are worse off than we are. It wouldn’t take much in the way of stupidity to lose this fight. Stupidity like ordering us to charge in and dig out the enemy fast instead of wearing them down. It wouldn’t take much of that to crack what we’ve got left, and then the enemy would have a chance to break out and spread through the unpopulated areas of this continent, where they’d be able to hide and regroup and launch raids. I want the general listening to you, because you listen to people like me, and you know from personal experience what things are like for us and for the enemy.”
“I can understand self-interest,” Carmen said.
“Then factor in your self-interest in as well,” Captain Devish said, his expression grim. “There are rumors going around that the government is planning to get us reinforcements from an untapped reserve. That reserve being previously wounded men and women whose prosthetics or other aids are sufficient to allow them to function on the front lines.”
She stared at him in shock. “That’s crazy. Even if the prosthetics are one hundred percent effective replacements for whatever was lost, it creates a whole set of problems with logistics, with keeping the prosthetics in repair and their power supplies and . . . and that creates problems with shielding the prosthetic materials and energy use from enemy sensors, and . . . and smart prosthetics can be hacked, or rendered useless by EMP weapons . . . and . . . the rumors can’t be true.”
“Can’t they?” Devish ran the tips of his fingers through the dust that had accumulated on the floor. “What do you think? We need warm bodies to carry on the fight. Kosatka is effectively blockaded, so no new immigrants can arrive to help. That means drawing on what’s available. Trained, experienced soldiers. Even if those men and women have already, and literally, given up parts of themselves to the fight.”
“Damn.” Carmen ran one hand through her hair, her thoughts darker than the shadows lurking in the deserted buildings of Ani. “The last time we talked, Dominic told me that he’d been moved up in priority for a new leg. No new invasion fleet sighted, no other explanation, just ‘congratulations, you’ll have the prosthetic a lot sooner than expected.’” Events had just become extremely personal again.
“Surprise,” Devish murmured.
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” She tapped a command to bring up a list of addresses. “I’ll take it from here.”
Captain Devish stood up, moving carefully in the limited space available. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
She looked up at him. “What if you get orders to send me under guard to Lodz?”
Devish shrugged. “Orders often get garbled, or misdirected. You know how it is. And I have a lot of other things to be dealing with, as well as no soldiers to spare on some bureaucratic squabble. If it gets to the point where I can’t stall any longer, then you’ll become invisible to me and every soldier in this unit. Sorry, she’s not here. Haven’t seen her. It’s not my problem if Lodz lost one of their volunteers.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not like you haven’t earned it.” Captain Devish sketched a brief salute in her direction before walking out into the hallway and out of sight.
Carmen felt an almost overwhelming urge to do something. Do it now. But she’d felt that before. One of the things that Mars had taught her was that impatient people died.
So she’d be patient. Make preparations. Until it got dark and she could do what needed to be done.
* * *
• • •
“I’ll be out for a while,” Carmen told Captain Devish.
He glanced at her, taking in her camos and the rifle. “Do you know tonight’s password?”
“Yeah. Holo.”
“Countersign?”
“Wolf,” Carmen said.
“Good,” Devish said. “You’ve got a plan?”
“Of course I have a plan.”
“Good. Try not to get your sorry butt shot off.”
The night wasn’t perfect for what she was doing. Too bright, the stars shining down unhindered by any cloud cover, and too quiet, only the barest breeze drifting along the silent streets. Carmen heard the soft scuttling of small creatures moving through the darkness, and knew any sounds she made would also be too easily heard. Maybe she should wait for another night.
Domi had been moved up in priority for a new leg.
; She wouldn’t wait.
The building where Devish’s unit had been staying for the last few days was only half a kilometer from the current front line. In daylight, in peace, it would have required only a few minutes of walking to cover that distance.
But this was night in an unlit city where enemies lurked. She figured that traveling alone and trying to remain unseen it would take her about an hour to safely reach the front.
Carmen had been making slow, patient, and nerve-racking progress for about half an hour when somewhere not far away from her a pebble rattled down a short drop, the last click as it came to rest seeming to echo through the city.
Carmen, one leg raised for another cautious step, froze. She stood, breathing as softly as possible through her mouth, straining her ears for any more sounds. Had it been part of the slow shifting of debris in the empty city? Or had the pebble been dislodged by an insect moving about? A small animal? Or had it been the result of a misstep by larger creatures, of the same species as Carmen, carrying weapons of their own and a lethal intent toward anyone they found?
Even if it was a friendly patrol she’d still be in terrible danger if spotted. This close to the enemy positions, a figure in the dark would be assumed to be one of those enemies. She’d likely be dead before she could speak the password or countersign for the night. And if they were enemies the password wouldn’t do her any good.
She heard nothing else except vague, faint sounds that might be born of her own blood rushing in her veins or the breath coming in and out of her. Her eyes searched the night but saw no sign of movement. The sound of the pebble falling seemed to have paralyzed the entire city. After holding herself motionless for at least half a minute, Carmen slowly lowered her leg, looking down to try to ensure she wasn’t stepping on anything that might make a sound.
Moving with infinite care, she eased closer to the nearest wall, pausing often to listen.
Memories crowded into her mind, distracting her. The darkness, the need for silence, the fear of discovery. How many times on Mars had she hidden in closets or cabinets or small spaces, a young girl waiting to learn if this time she’d be discovered? Once she had been, by a big man who didn’t realize in time that a small girl could be carrying a large knife.
Carmen could almost taste the ever-present red dust of Mars in her mouth as she waited, watching, her weapon ready.
The soft scurry of an animal sounded off to her left.
Carmen dared to relax slightly. If they felt in danger, animals wouldn’t move. If one felt safe enough to scurry, any danger that might have been here had probably passed.
But she still took her time studying her surroundings through the smart scope on her rifle, looking for any traces of danger. A small blob of heat briefly appeared, moving fast and low, as the sound of another small creature running from cover to cover came to her. Otherwise the city once more appeared to be empty and dead.
It took another half an hour of cautiously moving through the night and a succession of vacant buildings before Carmen reached the place she’d been heading for. Intended to be a small store or office, the room faced across a deserted street where similar mixed-use buildings loomed in the dark, stores on the ground floors and apartments above them.
She settled down to one side of a window that hadn’t been blown out or broken. Set against the wall and just above the floor, a thumb-size fiber terminal rested where she’d left it a week before.
Carmen unspooled a connector from her rifle and plugged it into the terminal, also pulling out an earbud that she stuck into one of her ears. Her scope lit up with data, showing that all six bugs she’d planted in rooms across the street were still connected. She sighed with relief. Listening devices that used wireless transmissions were too easily detected these days, so only something linked to a fiber-optic cable and activated only when someone like Carmen plugged in could remain hidden from sweeps for bugs. The transparent threadlike cables were very hard to see even under the best of conditions, but she’d still done as well as she could to hide the cables that ran across the empty street. Fortunately, nothing had cut any of them by accident or design.
The only question left was whether she’d lucked out by bugging a room some of the enemy would be in tonight. Places a little distant from the front line where Kosatka’s defenders faced the invaders could be safely occupied for days and even weeks as long as care was taken not to present external signs of the people within the apparently deserted buildings. But here, where the two sides faced each other, the soldiers on each side would change positions every day or so to avoid having their positions spotted. Carmen had planted her bugs a week ago, choosing offices facing the street that she could tell weren’t occupied, hoping that she’d picked one that would be a temporary enemy position on some future date.
Carmen couldn’t quite suppress a gasp as one of the lines lit up. Conversation. Across the street, some of the enemy were watching for Kosatka’s defenders, and as soldiers often did were whispering among themselves even when standing orders required silence.
“—shot Falchion,” a woman was saying, her voice barely audible even with the enhancements provided by Carmen’s listening gear. She thought the voice might carry the distinctive accent of Reds from the area around Olympus Mons, but couldn’t be sure.
“What’d he do?” a man asked, his own Olymons accent clear enough to confirm Carmen’s suspicions.
“Don’t know.”
“Falchion was an idiot. Didn’t know when to shut up.”
“Yeah.”
A third voice joined in, too faint for Carmen to tell if it was a man or a woman speaking. “Dibs on his share of rations.”
“Rations, hell, I’d have eaten Falchion if they’d left the body.”
“There wasn’t a lot of meat left on him,” the woman said.
“There’s not much left on any of us,” the third person said. “How much longer—”
“Shut up. You want to end up like Falchion?”
“Sooner or later, we’ll all—” The whispered voice cut off abruptly. “Hey. We got a ping.”
Faint rustling sounds probably marked the enemy fighters readying themselves and their weapons. “Where?” the woman asked.
“One of the places we rigged across the street. I’m only seeing one hit, though.”
“A scout? Or point for a patrol?”
“I dunno. It’s not moving. Probably trying to spot us.”
Carmen spent only a single second berating herself for carelessness. Of course the enemy had done the same thing that she had, covertly seeding sensors in some of the places their foes might occupy. They knew she was here, perhaps even where in the room she was.
And if they’d planted sensors here, they might have planted other, more lethal, things as well.
She turned her head slowly, studying the dark-shrouded back of the office, deciding on a path to take. A door hung open invitingly, offering refuge deeper in the building and arousing her suspicions. That was just where she’d put a booby trap, to catch anyone seeking safety. No. The same for the sturdy-looking solid wall to her right. Exactly the place someone would go if they were worried about danger from the street. Carmen raised her rifle enough to examine that wall through the scope, seeing a patch of newer work on that wall where a mini-mine had probably been hidden.
All right, then. Go hard left, past the floor-to-ceiling window where no one in their right mind would seek shelter or expose themselves. They wouldn’t have planted a trap there. Keep on, out into the side alley, and keep running away from the main street.
“How long we gonna wait?” one of the enemy whispered to his companions, the sound ghostly through Carmen’s earbud. “If that one’s point for a patrol, shouldn’t they have shown up by now?”
“They might be targeting us for a strike,” the woman said. “Right now as we’re talking. Why else would they just
be sitting there?”
“Yeah,” the third enemy agreed. “Take ’em out now.”
Carmen yanked the rifle cord free from the fiber terminal and leapt into motion, hurling herself to the left past the floor-to-ceiling window, feeling horribly exposed in that moment as the darkened street beyond was briefly visible, nothing between her and the weapons of the enemy but a few layers of insulated glass. She hit the side door to the alley as chaos roared behind her, the force of the explosion at her back hurling Carmen out of the office and into the alley. Scrambling to her feet but staying in a crouch, Carmen ran only a few meters before spotting a blown-out window to her right and leaping through it, landing on a litter of glass fragments inside that building and somehow avoiding any serious cuts.
She got to her feet again, limping slightly as her right ankle protested, pausing for only a moment to check the hallway outside the room before heading down it, away from the street that here marked the front line. Behind her, shots rang out as soldiers from both sides traded fire, but the flurry of action quickly subsided. Neither side could afford to waste ammunition, though at least Kosatka’s forces could still get power packs for pulse weapons.
With at least two blocks between her and the site of her near disaster, Carmen finally stopped in the pitch dark of an inner room, breathing heavily, her heart pounding from exertion and fear. Had it been worth it? She’d only gotten a few words of conversation between the enemy soldiers. Those words supported her own arguments, but having worked with bureaucrats in Earth gov, Carmen knew how Jayne Redman and her new agency would react to them. Fragmentary conversation, open to interpretation, and at best anecdotal data. Something easily dismissed from the lofty perspective of comfortable offices in Lodz.
She’d write it up anyway, and send it to General Edelman’s staff, along with a not-so-veiled plea for the general to formalize her status as someone who worked for him. And hope that worked.
And also hope that Domi never heard about tonight. She’d never hear the end of it from him.
Triumphant (Genesis Fleet, The) Page 8