by John Bowers
“Anyone else? No one?
“All right, carry on.”
Sunday, 28 October, 0435 (CC)
Nick and Rudy were on street patrol. It was a few minutes after 0100 in the morning and the town was quiet. Both men were still concerned about the possibility of snipers, since the Ruke Kopshevar killed had somehow infiltrated the town without being spotted. A single police car also cruised the streets; Nick wondered if the officer at the yoke harbored any resentment toward the Star Marines for making their own patrol. If so, he didn’t show it—every time they saw him, he either waved or nodded at them.
“Hey, Nick.” Rudy glanced at him as they strolled down a residential neighborhood. “I know you don’t like to talk about it, but…”
Nick felt himself tense. He thought he knew what was coming.
“Go ahead. Spit it out.”
“Well, I was wondering about that girl you were in love with. The one from boot camp?”
“You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it. Why is everyone so obsessed with that?”
Rudy looked pained, but didn’t back down.
“Aw, come on, Nick. You and me are buddies, ain’t we? Maybe you need to talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. Just tell me the story, and I won’t ask again. How about that?”
Nick glanced at the houses on the far side of the street, some of them boarded up, others still occupied. He really didn’t want to discuss it. But—
Maybe…
He sighed in resignation.
“Okay, but after tonight—”
“I’ll never ask again. I swear.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Just tell me what happened. Kopycat said she was a real looker.”
Nick nodded. “She was. Is.”
“So what happened?”
Nick shifted his rifle from one shoulder to the other, took a deep breath, and let it out.
“She was one of five girls in our training platoon. The first four washed out pretty early, couldn’t handle the training. We all made bets on the last one, how long she would last.”
“What was her name?”
“Victoria Cross.” Nick felt his throat tighten when he spoke the name. “She was a real fighter. She had guts. The training was actually too hard for her, but she wouldn’t give up. We were assholes about it, rooting for her to fail, but she stood up to us and kept at it. After a while, we starting cheering her on, hoping she would make it.”
“Why did you change your attitude?”
Nick sighed again.
“I can’t speak for the other guys, but what turned me around was one day after one of those ten-mile hikes. She came in dead last, five or six minutes behind everyone else, but she finished the course. She was wearing a forty-pound pack, and when she crossed the finish line she fell to her knees, too weak to take it off. She was trembling like a leaf and sobbing like a baby. We had to help her with it, and even then she could barely stand.
“I could tell that she was ashamed that we saw her crying, and I thought for sure that she would give it up, take the Long Walk of Shame. But she didn’t. She was still there the next morning, and—Rudy—I got to tell you, I never felt like a bigger dick in my life. If she was ashamed that we saw her cry, I was ten times more ashamed that I had been a part of hazing her like that. That was the day that I became her biggest fan.”
Nick fell silent. He bit his lip at the memory, and after a moment brushed his wrist across his eyes, grateful that Rudy couldn’t see him in the near darkness.
“Is that the whole story?”
“No. A couple of days later we had to climb that sixty-foot rope. I’m sure she was still sore and worn out from the hike, but she went up that rope as hard as she could. She made it to within about ten feet of the top, but she couldn’t go any higher. If she didn’t make it up the rope, she would’ve washed out, so I started yelling at her, cheering her on. I remember, she looked down at me, and the look in her eyes made me want to cry. It was like a dog that has been kicked all its life, you know, and suddenly someone pets it for the first time.”
He wiped his eyes again.
“She made it another six feet, but she still had a few more to go, and her whole body was shaking. I was sure she was gonna let go and slide down to the bottom, but she held on, just staring at the cross beam at the top. I kept yelling at her, and suddenly the other guys did, too. And she made it.
“After that, we canceled all our bets about her washing out and started doing everything we could to help her.”
“So she graduated?”
“Yeah, but barely. We couldn’t do it for her, of course, but we encouraged her all we could. A week or two after the rope climb, we came to the stagnant pond.”
“Oh, God!” Rudy moaned. “I remember that fucking pond!”
“Yeah. It was awful. She wasn’t a very good swimmer, and we had to get across without touching the bottom. It was four hundred meters across. By the time she was halfway, she was running out of steam. The rest of us, as soon as we made the shore, starting yelling at her, and I think that helped, but finally she ran out of energy with about thirty meters to go.
“I was sure she was done. She was gonna wash out and we all knew it. The guys finally quit yelling and just watched. Everyone was disappointed.”
“But…she must’ve made it, huh? I mean, she graduated.”
Nick nodded.
“It broke my heart to see her fail, and there was only one thing we hadn’t tried. So I started screaming at her, calling her a quitter. I think I called her a fucking pussy. That really pissed her off, and I think she wanted to kill me. She started swimming again, and she made it.”
“Jesus!” Rudy laughed. “What a story. What happened next?”
“I think that was the day I fell in love with her. I had never met a girl with so much guts and determination.”
“Or so beautiful?”
Nick nodded.
“That, too. When they told us to pick buddies, I asked her to be mine. She fucked with me then. She knew I had the hots for her, and she teased me that she could have any guy in the barrack that she wanted, so why should she pick me? After all, I had called her a pussy.”
Rudy laughed again.
“But she became your buddy?”
“Yeah. After that we did everything together.”
“Was she in love with you, too?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not sure when that happened for her, but about two weeks before graduation, she dragged me into a supply shed and screwed my brains out.”
Rudy laughed again. “No shit?”
“No shit. After that, we did it every day. It only lasted until graduation, and if we’d been caught, I wouldn’t be here now with you.”
“Holy shit! I can’t believe you got away with it.”
“Frankly, neither can I. The day we graduated, I told her I loved her—and she told me the same thing. We promised to keep in touch. The Star Marines sent her to law school and I went to Luna, but I promised to look her up when I got back.”
His expression darkened. He stopped talking.
Rudy wanted to hear the rest.
“So…”
“Yeah. When I got back from Luna I wanted to surprise her—and I did. Surprised the shit out of me, too.”
“Kopycat said she cheated on you.”
Nick nodded.
“Turns out her roommate at law school was a guy. When I knocked on the door, he answered. That’s how I found out.”
Rudy frowned.
“Are you sure? Maybe you got it wrong.”
“Rudy, she was wearing a towel, and she had a hickey on her neck.”
“Oh. Shit.”
“That was it. I walked away. A few months ago, in January, she looked me up and tried to patch things. That was the last time I saw her.”
They walked half a block in silence. Rudy turned to him again
.
“Was she serious? About patching things up?”
“Yeah, I think so. She wouldn’t have gone to the trouble to find me if she wasn’t.”
“Why didn’t you forgive her?”
Nick was silent a moment.
“Remember a few weeks ago when we met those Pink Ladies in Lucaston?”
“Yeah.” Rudy smiled at the memory.
“They had Pink Ladies at Luna Base, too. I was there nine months and never once took advantage of them. Because I was in love with Cross. The other night in Lucaston is the first time I ever slept with one.”
“I don’t get it.”
“For nine months on Luna, I could have been fucking Pink Ladies every single night, but I never did. I waited for Cross, but she didn’t wait for me.”
“Maybe she just made a mistake.”
“She sure as hell did. A big one. And Rudy…that’s the end of the story. Now I’ve told you, so don’t ever bring it up again.”
*
They completed their patrol circuit. The town was quiet. They turned down another street and began the return leg toward the high school.
Rudy yawned.
Then Nick yawned.
“God, I’m beat!”
“Yeah, me too. I wonder how much longer this fucking war is gonna last.”
“No way to tell. It ain’t over till it’s—”
Nick’s words were cut off by a brilliant flash on the horizon, then another—then a whole series of them. Before the sound even reached them, the entire horizon suddenly became one continuous, dancing light show.
“Fuck me!” Nick breathed.
“Is that rebel artillery?”
“It has to be. We’d better get back.”
They picked up their pace. They could hear the shells now, distant but distinct, a steady drumbeat.
“What are they hitting?” Rudy wondered.
“I’m guessing the Fed Infantry. They must have their positions zeroed.”
“At least they aren’t hitting the town.”
“Not yet. I wonder what’s up? We haven’t been shelled since we got here.”
Their helmet comms crackled to life. It was DuBose.
“Walker! Aquino! Where are you?”
“On our way back, Sergeant,” Nick replied. “What the hell is going on?”
“No, I mean where are you? What’s your location?”
“We’re on Monroe Street, half a block west of Front.”
“Okay, watch your ass! The bombardment is a diversion! We have infiltrators coming in! Small groups all over town. Captain thinks they’re after the ammo dump.”
Nick felt his blood pressure spike.
“Does Foxtrot know?” Foxtrot Company was camped near the ammo dump.
“They’ve been notified, so watch your ass again—if they spot you, they may think you’re part of the infiltration. I want you to move to the north edge of town and take cover. If you get the chance, intercept the rebels, but don’t bite off more than you can kill. When you take up position, activate your GPS beacon so I can tell where you are. The P-guns are gonna target the area, but I can direct them to avoid you.”
“Got it, Sergeant.”
Every Star Marine helmet was fitted with a GPS transponder. They were inactive by default, but could be activated by the push of a button on the helmet rim. Activation lasted only a few seconds, to reduce the danger they would be received by the enemy.
DuBose signed off. Nick and Rudy charged their weapons and broke into a run. They backtracked half a block to Front Street, then turned north for two blocks to the edge of town. Even before they reached the end of the street, they heard parabola guns firing from somewhere behind them, and shells began to drop in the open fields north of town. They reached the end of the block where a cross street formed the city border. Beyond that was nothing but open land, much of it under cultivation, but fallow at this time of the year.
Nick dropped to one knee as he searched for cover.
“We should probably split up,” he told Rudy. “If one of us gets hit, maybe they won’t get us both.”
“Yeah, but where?”
Nick slipped an IR contact into his left eye and swept the area again. Just ahead of them, not twenty yards away, he spotted a two-foot-deep irrigation ditch.
“There. You move about thirty yards to the right and I’ll go the same distance to the left. It looks deep enough to hide us.”
“Okay. Be careful, Nick.”
“You, too.”
Rudy dashed off into the darkness and Nick ran the other way. He didn’t see the fence until he reached it. Just as he was about to vault it, the wire strands suddenly stretched taut and then rebounded with a twang. He heard Rudy grunt in pain.
“Fuck!”
“Watch out for the fence,” Nick told him.
“Yeah, no shit.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just don’t tell nobody, okay?”
Nick laughed.
“Yeah, okay. And you won’t repeat the story I told you, right?”
“Deal.”
Nick was about to jump the four-foot fence when a volley of P-gun rounds landed forty yards in front of him. Shrapnel whined overhead. He dropped to his belly and crawled under the wire instead, then rolled into the grassy ditch. He checked his weapon to make sure it was clear, then with a sigh of relief positioned himself to cover the field in front of him.
“Rudy, you set?” he called into his helmet mike.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“I’m gonna call DuBose. Stand by to squawk your GPS.”
Nick switched frequency and called DuBose.
“We’re set, Sergeant. You ready for that GPS now?”
“Ready. Go ahead and squawk.”
Nick advised Rudy and they both squawked at once. DuBose, wherever he was, would read their position on his e-tablet and know their exact position.
That done, Nick removed his IR contact—the flashes from the P-gun shells slammed his retina like hammers and not only blinded him, but were giving him a headache as well. Without the contact, he could see well enough, and the flashes gave him brief glimpses of what lay in front of him.
After a minute or two, the shelling shifted farther away, probably because DuBose had notified the gun crews where he and Rudy were located. About a minute after that, he spotted dark shapes running across the field, angling to the southeast…toward the ammo dump. As they came closer, he could see their white shirts.
“Rudy, I’ve got Freaks headed for the dump. You see ‘em?”
“Yeah, I see a couple. Can’t tell exactly how many.”
“Use single shots, no rapid fire. The shelling should cover the sound of our rifles.”
“Got it.”
Nick took aim. He had at least four men in view, but they were fifty or sixty yards out, running from left to right. It would be a tricky shot.
Before he could squeeze the trigger, in spite of the shellfire, he heard Rudy fire three rounds—and saw two men fall. The remaining Freaks dodged sideways, perhaps thinking their friends had been hit by shrapnel. Nick fired and dropped a third one, then Rudy killed a fourth. He didn’t see any more, at least not at the moment.
He shifted his body for comfort and repositioned his rifle. His eyes narrowed as he scanned for more runners, but didn’t see any. Maybe the shells were doing their job.
He waited another minute, watching closely, but still no more rebels appeared.
Then he heard running boots behind him and twisted around to look. To his shock, six white-shirted rebels were running down the street he had just crossed, coming straight at him. Most of them carried rifles, and one carried a stovepipe mortar. Two others were lugging heavy backpacks, which he guessed were probably packed with mortar rounds.
He rolled onto his back in the ditch, lying as flat as he could.
“Rudy!” His voice was barely a whisper. “They’re coming up behind us, on the street. You have a better angle o
n them, so go ahead. I’m down in the ditch, so don’t worry about hitting me.”
Rudy didn’t take the time to answer, but less than ten seconds later, the lead rebel skidded and dropped, blood pumping out the back of his white shirt. Before the others could react, Rudy fired again and another one cried out, then stumbled off the street and collapsed. Those who remained—Nick counted four of them—tried to dive for cover, but were fully exposed with nowhere to go. One plunged into the fence and rebounded. The one carrying the mortar dived flat and skidded, the mortar tube rolling out of his grip, and the pair with the backpacks broke right and ran toward the houses that lined the street.
Rudy fired a third time and shot the mortar man through the head; Nick rose to his knees and took aim at those with the backpacks. He shot one in the base of the spine, then swung to acquire the other, who was now almost invisible in the near darkness.
He fired—
The man exploded.
The blast flung him out of the ditch and he landed ten feet away in the field, face up, gasping. For a moment he stared at the sky, aching for air, not sure if he was wounded, but hurting all over. He wheezed for breath and finally got it back.
“Nick! Nick! Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I think so.” He was still choking.
“What happened?”
“I shot the guy in his backpack. I think it was loaded with shells.”
“Jesus!”
“Stay where you are. Don’t show yourself.”
“Did we get all of ‘em?”
Nick lifted his head to look. One rebel had vanished in the explosion, and he counted four more bodies in the street. Then he saw the last one entangled in the fence, covered in blood and looking like a limp rag. He wasn’t moving.
“Yeah. We got ‘em all.”
“Thank God.” Rudy sounded relieved.
“Okay, get ready. There may be m—”
Nick never finished. A few hundred yards to the east, the sky lit up like Federation Day at home, with brilliant explosions and mushrooming fireworks soaring into the sky.
The rebels had accomplished at least part of their mission—
The ammo dump was history.
Chapter 30
It turned into a long night.
After it was over, Nick would never be able to remember everything that happened or the sequence of events, and it would take days for the officers to piece everything together for their after-action reports.