Libor: Katana Krieger #2

by Bill Robinson

  I push it off and spin to my feet, eyes to eyes with the first Life Clan, who has picked up my weapon and is pointing it at me. It's holding it funny, got to use the thumb to fire, the fingers too big to get past the guard, so the stock is in the left hand, the right thumb across the trigger. It won't be very accurate, but we're five feet apart, it won't matter that much.

  I think it's laughing at me. I give it the sign for knife. I see the thumb start to move, I hear the bark of the nine mill, my brain hears it twice, thinking there's an echo.

  My left arm explodes in pain, blood flying. The Libor's head explodes, the echo a badly limping Major Page.

  He gets to me while I'm on my knees trying to stop the blood, it's not going to be fatal, as long as I can keep enough of the red stuff inside me. Together we tie it off and keep the pressure on.

  "How's mom and the twins?"

  "Fine when I left them, we need to get back."

  "Aye. Any sign of help?"

  He looks at me funny and points behind me. I guess this one time I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. There's a Colorado Militia helicopter landing in the field and neither my butt nor I heard it. I got shot in the arm, it shouldn't have affected my hearing.

  We spot another chopper landing a distance away, probably in the empty horse paddock. I relax. A little.

  We spend another hour in that field, first me getting help from the medic, then 45 minutes of me yelling at the militia men to stay the frak away from the football, that it belongs to the Navy. Finally, the Naval liaison to the planetary militia shows up and orders them away. The helo at my house is taking off, it's time for us to go.

  "Captain, Major, I'm Commander Rod Braxton. Kennedy jumped into system yesterday as part of their jump and systems tests, I talked Admiral Lee into coming in to assist. They'll be in orbit in an hour, down here shortly after."

  "Thank you, Commander. I'd like to get home, if I may."

  "Colonel!" Braxton yells across the field to the militia commander. "Can you escort the Captain home?"

  He walks away from the Libor ship and comes over to see us.

  "I'll put you in my vehicle. We have guards at your house, though I believe the threat has passed."

  "Thank you. And, please stay away from that thing, they are a holy terror to fly, especially if you can't read Libor."

  "You've flown one?"

  "Aye, the next biggest model. One person cannot do it, it takes two, and even then, the learning curve is steep."

  We let Colonel Rouen, he doesn't introduce himself, I have to read his name plate, put us in an SUV painted to look military and take us home.

  Dad and Kent are still on their way home, Julia's staying at Kenna's with the kids. Mom, Kelly, and Kaelyn are sitting outside on the porch crying when we are dropped off, we have a five way hug and then join them on the porch. Not crying. Three militia soldiers are on the perimeter of the house.

  "Mom, where'd the chopper go?"

  "They took Oscar. He's going to be fine, they flew him to Dr. Chavous. Whatever you did saved him." That's our vet.

  Kaelyn looks at me. "It's dead?"

  I nod at her. "Carl shot it."

  She already liked him, now she's looking at him like he's superman.

  "What happened to your arm?"

  "It shot me."

  "You should have let Carl go after it."

  "Next time."

  She looks at me funny.

  We're still sitting there an hour later when two new helicopters, both County Sheriff, come flying into the empty horse pasture.

  The doors open on the first and three Marines exit, heavily armed. Ramos, Odoms, and Swenson. They step aside, and another three Marines I don't know follow, carrying packs that they use for forensic work.

  The doors on the second open, and two more armed Marines exit, followed by Admiral Lee, followed by three officers I do not know.

  They all head to the back door, look inside. Then they walk around the house outside to find us.

  Carl and I do our best to stand to attention, but Admiral Lee gives us a surprisingly quick "at ease."

  "Captain, a pleasure to meet you. Wish it could have been under better circumstances."

  "Agreed, sir. A pleasure to meet you as well."

  "Business first. I understand you know how to fly the alien boat?"

  "Yes, sir, I took one of the larger ones into orbit. It does take two at the controls, sir."

  "Copy that." He turns to one of the officers behind him. "Byron, get the Captain back over there tonight and make sure it's powered down." Then he turns to me again.

  "Captain, we'll want you to take that boat to Kennedy, but we don't need you to do that for a couple days."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "We have rooms for you and your family at the bed and breakfast in town tonight, my team will stay here and get their work done. I'll have a squad of Marines down tomorrow to stand guard and help you clean. Tonight I have guards at your sister's place, and at the B&B."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "We'll need to take everyone's statements tonight, then we'll transport you."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "How's the arm?"

  "A little painful, but nothing serious, thank you, sir."

  "You sound tired."

  "Sorry, sir, it's been a long day. I'm not used to seeing my sister about to be assaulted."

  "Understood, Captain." He looks at the house. "From what I saw, those assailants had no idea what you and the Major are capable of."

  "No, sir, they didn't. Family, sir."

  "Aye." He looks at his team. "I believe you all know Lieutenant Ramos."

  I almost laugh, but that part of me isn't working. "Yes, sir, he and his team and I spent some memorable days on Libor Prime. He was my co-pilot when I flew the alien bird."

  "That's what I heard. I think we'll have an aviator with you this time."

  "Roger that, Admiral."

  "Captain, I would like to a have a long talk with you, pick your brain, while I'm here. But not tonight. I have Marines over at your sister's place. Give your statement to Ramos now, then get out of here and get some rest. Tomorrow, 1000, on the porch."

  "Aye, sir."

  Ramos takes my statement, Odoms works with Carl, Swenson takes the girls and my mom off and talks to them away from everyone. Dad and Kent show up part way through. We try to stop them from going in the house, but fail. I've never seen my dad that mad. Three dead guys in his house and one more that Carl took out right outside.

  Dad packs everyone into his truck, except me, and they take off for town, Kent already headed for Kenna's. I jump into a helo and they fly me to the clearing, where I jump out. I slide two sliders and push one button, close the football's hatch, and jump right back on the helo. They fly me direct to the hotel, I beat dad there by three minutes. He doesn't drive as fast as he used to.

  They got us three rooms, one for mom and dad, one for the twins, and one for me and Carl. The twins instantly move in with the parents. Carl and I can't sleep, we spend most of the night sitting at a table outside the closed for the night restaurant, our sidearms, reloaded, on the table in front of us. Eventually, we go inside and manage a couple hour long nap.

  Chapter 44

  The six of us have breakfast together about 0700 at the restaurant then, over my objections, we all climb into jeeps and let the Marines drive us home.

  Everybody who was there the night before is gone, taking the evidence and bodies with them, and a fresh squad of Marines has taken their place. Three of them are, in fact, in the living room scrubbing blood off the floor.

  Mom tries to make them stop, but ends up spending the morning supervising. And crying. The blood stained photos of all of her kids are more than a little too much for her.

  The six who slept at Kenna's last night showed up minutes after we did, dad taking them and the two teenagers off to do farm work as far away from the house as possible.

  Not much for me to do but tr
y to comfort my mom, Carl and I sit at the kitchen table and clean our weapons. I also call Dr. Chavous, our vet, who reports Oscar is doing fine and should be home in a couple days.

  Admiral Lee and his three aides show at 1000 on schedule, and I take them for a walk in the woods. True to his reputation, the Admiral has a sharp mind and I hold nothing back, at his request giving him my military opinion of where we are, running through my battle scenarios, and discussing tactics.

  He has 78 cannons versus my 18, his are 36 inchers versus my 24s. He's got a couple hundred Javelins, I have 24. He's got a couple hundred Daggers, I've got six. He's got a couple hundred Darts, I've got 12. Some of the tactical discussions don't seem fair.

  I'm left alone at 1500, with orders to be at the Libor boat at 1000 tomorrow.

  Late afternoon another of Kennedy's Marine units shows up, installs cameras outside the house and a security system with several panic buttons inside. Their lieutenant gives me and Carl the rundown and trusts us to train the family. The County Sheriff has the video feed at his place, and the panic buttons reach the sheriff, the Militia office, and the Navy liaison station simultaneously. Sheriff deputies will also be coming by a couple times a day, discretely.

  The first squad of cleaning Marines leaves about 1600 and a second squad arrives and digs in. A battleship has 150 Marines aboard normally, six of the 25 man units like the one Yorktown has. Admiral Lee really doesn't have the resource allocation worries I do.

  The family comes driving in about 1700, and we put on a barbeque in the backyard, feeding all of us and a dozen warriors who, it turns out, are pretty good with mops too. Mom's even recovered enough to make a joke about having them back again.

  When the Marines depart, except for a few standing watch outside, the house is spotless, no visible reminders of the violence. Dad, for the first time ever, locks the doors and punches in a security code before heading upstairs with mom. Frak the Libor.

  Next morning there are three Naval officers wandering around, inspecting the Libor boat when Carl and I drive up at 0930. The senior, Captain Leah Brister, is one of Lee's aides, and formerly chief pilot. The other two, Lt. Commander Maddy Diaz and Lieutenant John Elam are Kennedy's lead pilots.

  After the introductions, Carl takes off (in the jeep, not the ship) and I show them how to open the hatch.

  "Who's riding shotgun?"

  "I'm flying with you, if that's okay," Brister's almost laughing as she said it. I will assume she had to pull rank on the other two. "Diaz has comm."

  I show them how to close that hatch and explain that yellow is green.

  "The Libor design their ships for simplicity, they use automation to take away most non- flight tasks so they can pilot by hand. I've seen them flown a half dozen times, and the lead pilot is always in the right hand couch and on manual 90 percent of the time."

  I plunk myself down in that couch, buckle up. Brister slips in beside me, the other two right behind us.

  "Start up is easy, all ship's system tie to one control."

  I push the main power button, then move the sliders next to it, explaining what they do. The pilots behind are making a video recording on their pads. We get the nice beep from the screens, and the fluid patterns across them.

  "You'll find the displays are mostly impossible to read."

  "How do you fly it, then?" Elam with the question.

  Brister answers. "With skill, Lieutenant, with skill."

  Everything looks stable. I ask an important question.

  "How do we get launch clearance?"

  Brister raises her right hand, Diaz gets on the horn.

  "Kennedy, Special One, do you read, over."

  They are back instantly.

  "Special One, Kennedy, read you loud and clear, over."

  "Request clearance, over."

  "Special One cleared to go, over."

  "Copy, our nav is mark one eyeball, we'll need vectors as you get them, over."

  "Roger, standing by."

  I look at Brister.

  "Ready?"

  She holds her hands out, asking where to put them.

  "Right hand on blue handle. You'll push forward an inch at a time at my mark. You've got the thruster pods."

  "Aye."

  I put my right hand on the stick, left on the throttles. Gently, I push forward on the throttle, feeling the pods activate and lift us off. This time, I wait until we're a couple thousand feet up before I begin the rotation.

  "Go on first rotation."

  She pushes forward slightly and I raise the nose while adding power.

  We stabilize and do it four more times before we're 75 degrees nose up, at full throttle.

  Elam's apparently enjoying the ride. We get a "Nice!" from the backseat.

  Brister and I talk through what we just did and how it showed on the screens as Diaz talks to Kennedy. Then I run through as many of the other controls as I can (actually not all the controls, just the ones I remember from the photos).

  Roughly a dozen minutes in, Diaz gives us an instruction.

  "Sixty seconds to main engine cut off."

  "Sixty seconds." I'm assuming she's counting, the Libor clock is not readable.

  "Thirty seconds. Twenty. Ten. Five. Cutoff."

  I cut the throttles, we're weightless and in orbit.

  "Kennedy is 201 clicks on our six. They'll close the range. Admiral Lee suggests we attempt to dock her."

  "Seriously?"

  "He likes to test people."

  "Fine."

  While we wait for them to rendevous, I go through more of what I know about the other controls, and use my pad to send them the cockpit photos I almost forgot I had from Naval Experimental.

  "Captain," I look at Brister, "You have the pods, I'll keep the throttles. Theoretically, this button will change the scale on the handles and give us maneuvering thrust."

  "Theoretically."

  "You said he likes to test."

  "I did. Let's go." I hit the button.

  I rotate the boat to face the 2,000 times larger battleship on a collision course. And, somehow, we do it. A tap here, a jump there, but 15 minutes later we're shutting systems down in the middle of Kennedy's enormous flight deck.

  "Nice work, Katana."

  "Thanks, Leah, couldn't have done it without you."

  Yes, we are pretty smugly satisfied with ourselves.

  Admiral Lee is there to welcome us, make a quick inspection of the boat, then leaves. I have an enjoyable lunch with Brister, tell her a few stories of the Libor that I skipped yesterday with the Admiral. Then they pack me aboard one of the battleship's 12 (yes, 12) landing ships and shuttle me back home.

  Mom's made Carl's favorite for dinner, spaghetti and meatballs, though her's is definitely better than what he gets off the kid's menu. Real sauce made from real homegrown tomatoes, fresh ground beef and pork in the meatballs with a good complement of freshly picked spices. Homemade garlic bread, and homegrown vegetables, plus apple pie from the trees outside to finish it off.

  A way overstuffed Katana ends up cuddled with a way overstuffed Carl on the couch, our feet on the coffee table, as he imitates my dad and turns the TV on to catch up on the pennant races. I have my pad out, reading the third sleazy novel of the vampire series I started a couple months ago on Gamma Omicron. Everybody else still in the kitchen.

  Carl lets out a little yelp when they announce the Cubs score. My pad beeps in response.

  "No," I say to him, "I don't think it's a Dodgers fan. I've got priority one email."

  There's a high priority, secret, encrypted message on my pad, takes me a couple seconds to unlock. I read it, hand it to Carl. His grip on me quietly tightens.

  "What is it, Kat?" All the way from the kitchen sink.

  "Nothing. I've been relieved of command."

 

 

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