by Cindy Borgne
“But, sir.” I grabbed his arm, but released it when Philips gave me an annoyed glance. “You have to warn the fleet about the unmarked vessel.”
“Are you talking about just one Genner midrange?”
“Yes, but not just any Genner midrange. We’ve discovered a specialized Genner midrange that has the capability to bring down a Marc transport. Our radar only picked it up for a second,” I explained.
“Get the soldiers off the transport before it’s too late,” Nate added.
“Leave the transport? They could get picked off by Genner Aerojets.” He looked outside the front window. “We have to eliminate most of those first.”
We approached two large transports surrounded by a variety of vessels. One of them matched the one I saw explode. The number of vessels flowing toward the mine amazed me. I wished I knew which one had Clare aboard.
Flashes of light and explosions came from far in front of us. Short, highflying vessels zipped about further ahead. We soared over a line of jagged hills.
Captain Philips adjusted a monitor. “They decided to engage us with their aerojets first. Nothing we can’t handle.”
“Take our warning seriously, Captain.” Nate sounded braver. “People are going to die if you delay.”
“Relax special ops. I know what I’m doing.”
We approached the medical hovercrafts, which hovered about a hundred feet behind the large soldier carriers.
The captain turned toward the soldiers strapped into seats along the walls and looked them over. “You in the back. Get your helmet on. We’re at war, damn it.”
The soldier quickly obeyed.
“Sir,” said the navigator. “A black blip with no signature briefly appeared on the radar.”
“That’s it!” I yelled.
The black phantom roared past the large transports and fired a multi-colored thick laser beam, striking both of them at once near the rear engines. Everyone stared at it, but no damage occurred. Chatter about the Phantom filled the radio.
“What are you doing?” I yelled so loud several on the bridge flinched. “You have to tell them to land and leave the vessel.”
“Quiet, boy!” shouted the captain.
“What was that supposed to be?” asked the pilot.
The captain shrugged and turned around. “Proceed to the . . . .”
The first transport jerked. A muffled boom shook the vessel, vibrating my ears.
“Sir!” yelled the pilot.
The captain spun around. A glowing hole appeared at the rear of one of the transports. Flames flickered out of it and the gap grew larger. It drifted toward the ground. More flaming cracks appeared all over the vessel.
“It’s breaking up!” Philips yelled.
Another explosion came from the second large transport and flames emerged at its rear. Everyone was shouting, which made it impossible to understand anyone.
The two transports drifted quickly toward each other. Neither one had any power or control. I wanted to scream at the captain for not listening to me and stared, knowing it was too late.
“Move us back.” Philips ordered.
The transports crashed into each other. An explosion cascaded through both ships. A few people managed to jump before the flames reached them, but the rest burned in a mass of metal and dirt.
A swirling band slammed into the medical hovercrafts and sent them hurling out of control. Metal screeched as they lurched into each other. Vessels dropped from the sky, looking like huge rumpled garbage cans. A shockwave of debris and dust rushed toward us.
“We’re too close.” The pilot struggled with the controls.
“Get us out of here!” Phillips yelled.
The navigator gripped the console. “Hang on!”
I locked my arms around a beam. “Nate!”
“Hold on.” Nate held onto a strap along the wall.
The wave hit us. A few of the men who weren’t strapped in lost their grip and tumbled about the ship.
The ship bounced wildly. A sea of powder flowed beyond the front port.
Sparks of electricity arced through the console and crawled up the arms of the pilot and navigator. Both men jolted. Their bodies went rigid before they collapsed.
We hit the ground and slid across a bumpy surface. A hulking figure slammed into me. My hands slipped off the beam, and I fell toward the back of the ship.
As the ship slowed, the nose pointed up. Captain Philips and a few others crowded by me at the rear. The rest were still strapped in along the walls.
I stood up trembling and bruised. “Nate?”
“Over here!” Nate remained up toward the front along the side and hung on with both hands.
When anyone tried to move, metal creaked.
“Stay where you are,” ordered the captain.
The vessel teetered on the edge of something. Outside, a thick mass swirled, making it impossible to see. My heart beat out of control. The hull became like a cage with narrowing walls. A crack formed on the front shield and grew in short spurts with every movement.
A few others slowly stood up. Nate’s feet barely fit on a small ledge. Another man hung onto the wall opposite of him. I looked back and forth between Nate and the cracked front port, which threatened to depressurize the vessel at any moment.
“Nobody move,” ordered the captain.
“I’m slipping!” Nate yelled.
“The port is about to go,” I said. “Those men have to come down here.”
Everyone argued at once.
“Nate!” I yelled over the talking. “Try to come down slowly.”
“No, don’t move. You’re going to knock us over.”
“He’s right. We have to come down,” said a panicked voice. The man opposite Nate crawled down, but he went too fast.
“Stop!” the captain ordered.
The vessel swayed and slid, threatening to fall at any instant. The crack streaked across the window like a lightning bolt. I held my breath. The large transparent shield bowed outward and exploded. Clear particles flew outside and blended into the churning heap. Men screamed as the craft depressurized.
“Somebody help him!” I yelled.
Nate’s hands slid off the wall. His arms flailed about as he tried to grab something. Two others flew into him and pushed him out the front port along with them. Nate disappeared into the churning dust.
“Nate!” I screamed as the vessel tilted and slid downward.
Chapter 6
I tried to move with the midrange as it slid sideways down a steep slope. “Nate, can you hear . . . .” The words were knocked out of me as the portside of the midrange slammed into the ground. I forced in a breath and slid with the others as the momentum flipped the vessel upside down. Cords dangled and supplies tumbled out of broken cabinets.
I scrambled out of the clutter, worked my way out the broken front viewport and stood near a rocky slope. Half the paint was scraped off the bottom of the midrange. Rock fragments had fallen all around the ship. Dust swirled through the air so thick I couldn’t see the top of the slope.
“Nate, can you hear me?” I screamed, fighting back the urge to panic.
Solid iron made up the canyon walls. Layers of dust had spilled down onto the floor of the canyon. More dust remained piled up on the ledges, looking about to cascade into an avalanche.
“Nate….” My jaw quivered and tears welled up.
Even when separated I’d always been able to sense his presence, but instead there was an empty void like a part of me was missing. “Nate, answer me!” I tried again and again with no success. “Please answer!” A squeal of feedback blasted over the helmet speaker, making me wince.
“Stop screaming over this channel,” someone complained.
Laser fire from the vessels above lit the orange haze in patches as if lightning went through it. I imagined Nate lying wounded, in pain and possibly dying with no one to help him. This sent my heart racing with uncontrollable panic. I struggled to climb up the ro
ck-covered slope.
A soldier’s voice came over my helmet radio. “You can’t climb that.”
“My friend’s up there.” Climbing up in the envirosuit felt like three times the normal effort. My arms and legs shook with every inch. A rock slipped under my foot, sending me back to the bottom. I sat sweating in a pile of rocks and tried to catch my breath. Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed onto the ledge and tried again.
“Genner fighter jets are heading this way.” Captain Phillips motioned with a rifle toward the west. “Everyone move!”
If I didn’t get back up the slope, anything could happen to Nate.
“Boy, get over here before you get killed.”
“I can’t leave him!” Grooves and pieces of rock crumbled every time I tried to pull myself up.
The men gathered around as a medic tried to save a soldier with a piece of metal sticking out of his side.
“Hurry, damn it,” Phillips growled.
An odd twang made my helmet vibrate. Everyone ran. I broke away from the wall and followed. Electricity crackled above and laser blasts peppered the area.
A thick beam struck the wrecked midrange with a bang, sending more soil and pieces of metal into the air. I scrambled away with every ounce of energy, but not fast enough - a sharp pain in my calf knocked me down and tore a hole in my suit.
My head pounded. I gasped at the plunging pressure indicator on the upper right of my visor. Crouched on the ground, I blocked the leak with my hand. “Help!” I shouted, but everyone ran to find cover.
Somehow, through my panic, I remembered my outdoor survival lessons and grabbed the small kit on my belt with my other hand. It popped open easily. I grabbed the sealant applicator and placed it over the hole. Sealant molded over the torn fabric. Slowly, the pressure came back up.
When the dust cleared, I scrambled backwards at the sight of two from our group on the ground unmoving.
“Get under this ledge,” ordered Phillips. “Hurry!”
I limped under a low ledge with the others while pain seared up my leg.
“Damn, you were right about all of this,” Philips said.
“Shit,” said one of the soldiers, “can you believe we’re even worried about Gentech?”
I half listened to their harsh cursing as a queasy feeling grew in my stomach. More enemy vessels raced down the canyon, firing their lasers randomly at the ground. How can Nate survive? Tears spilled down my cheeks. If Clare was alive, she would never forgive me.
After ten minutes the captain stepped out. “It’s clear. We’ll head west to look for some help or a way out of this rut.” He motioned with his rifle for us to follow.
Neither Nate nor Kayla was in that direction. Her small forces wouldn’t hold, even though they managed to take out our transports. I can’t sense Nate. Does this mean he’s dead? I had to help him despite the odds.
“Move elite,” ordered Phillips. “We’ll have a better chance of getting picked up further back.”
This made sense. If I could get to another vessel, perhaps they’d help me search for Nate.
“I’m coming.” Blood trickled down my leg as something grinded into my calf. I stumbled over all sorts of debris.
I paused at a dead body in a military Marc envirosuit.
“Don’t look,” someone warned.
Too late. A cracked visor allowed the brutal Mars environment to do its damage. Blood streaks, hardened skin and bone made it impossible to tell who it was. I held back a scream and stumbled backwards horrified by the distorted face.
If I was going to help Nate or Kayla, I had to calm down. Maybe she would end up a hostage and that’s how I would meet her. Perhaps someone found Nate and he was safe on a medical hovercraft with Clare.
Yet, I couldn’t deny that I wasn’t able to sense him. Instead of his presence, a heavy weight hung around my neck.
As we hiked along the canyon floor, my wounded leg burned. Working against the pain drained my energy. I tried to suck the last few drops out of the water tube in my helmet and licked the inside of my mouth, hoping to feel some moisture.
I’d never been able to go past an hour outside without wanting to rush into a dome and hurry out of the envirosuit. The visor timer indicated I’d been outside three hours. My desperation to get inside turned my mouth dry and acidic. Having to fight the queasiness in my stomach didn’t help. The last thing I wanted was to throw up inside of a helmet.
After a few hours, the ground appeared to weave as I staggered. My legs shook from exhaustion. I lagged thirty feet behind the others. The oxygen gauge indicated twenty minutes remaining.
“Can anyone spare some oxygen? I’m almost out.” I hoped someone had extra to spare because military suits carried more oxygen and water than civilian ones.
“We’re all running low,” said the tallest one.
“I only have twenty minutes left.” Bits of time dwindled. I forced each step. “Make that eighteen minutes.” The gauge in the upper right corner of the visor kept me constantly aware of the decreasing oxygen. “Okay, seventeen now.”
Nobody answered, not even the captain.
“I’m an elite. You can’t leave me out here!”
Philips hung back from the others. When I came even to him, he grabbed me by the collar and shoved me up against the stone wall of the canyon.
Pressing his helmet to mine, he left his radio un-keyed as he spat "Elite means nothing out here! You weren't even supposed to come. You should’ve used some of that so-called elite talent to pack some extra O2 tanks. I don't have time to give a rat's hairy little ass about one wimp-assed elite when I have a company to keep alive."
He let go with one hand only enough to poke each syllable into my chest. "Now shut the hell up!" Shoving me away, he turned and padded along with the rest of the company.
Trembling uncontrollably, I collapsed. I crawled over to the canyon wall, and my heart pounded against the rough envirosuit material.
The men went around a corner and out of view. I’d heard of soldiers running out of oxygen on the field, but never thought I’d be one of them. My stomach tensed and a bitter taste rose up in my throat. I leaned over gagging and fought back the nausea.
The oxygen gauge went down another notch. A trace of steam formed on the bottom of my visor from my heavy breathing. Calm down. You have to stay calm. In desperation, I opened all channels on my radio. “Help me, anyone. I’m almost out of oxygen!”
The speaker returned only static, but I continued to repeat the message.
That same odd twang came from the distance, and I didn’t care if they were the enemy and only hoped for their mercy. “Down here. Help!” A group of Genner aerojets flew to the north, continuing on their course.
A second later, a group of Marc scouters charged after the aerojets. A caution light flashed on my wrist. Shit! Only five minutes of oxygen left.
My gloved hand fumbled with the radio controls. “Please, come in. Anyone, I’m out of oxygen. Down in the canyon. Please respond . . . .”
A thud from the east interrupted me. Vibrations rippled across the ground, through my glove and around my fingertips. I tensed and held my breath. Pebbles tumbled down the canyon wall. I stared ahead, trying to see what caused it.
A towering cascade of soil and rubble rolled down the canyon toward me. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain and stumbled forward, but it was inescapable.
The blast knocked me down and half buried me. I sat up, coughed, and the yellow light changed to a red. My lungs labored as I strained to get oxygen. I couldn’t move. “Someone,” I wheezed and gasped for air. “Please.” Black spots appeared in my vision and grew larger.
A dark shadow flew over me. I couldn’t identify it. I didn’t even know if it was real. A deep male voice blended with the noise. Forgive me, but we lost Layne.
Who’s Layne? Blackness dissolved. My mind twisted and turned down as a vision led me down a tunnel carved out of rock. I stopped at a control room filled with monitors and gauges.
Dim lighting came from the ceiling. I was inside the Genner mine.
“Answer, damn it!” Beacon’s voice hissed over the radio. “Don’t think you can get away with this. You Genners are going to pay. I will hunt you down.” He rambled on with his threats.
A man stepped toward the console – the same one I’d foreseen piloting Phantom One. Dust covered his black hair which hung over his bloodshot eyes. Kayla stood in the doorway trembling. This time she looked younger than in my previous visions. Tears streamed over the edge of her eyes. She turned and walked out of the room.
The pilot’s dark skin turned bronze with rage. He glared at the radio, shaking with anger as Beacon continued to spew threats. The pilot let out a grinding scream, pulled over a supply rack and sent parts scattering onto the floor.
He lunged at the console and pounded on it with bare fists. “I will kill you!” he shouted, half crying. The signal turned to static. “I will kill you!”
Kayla rushed back into the room with tears rolling down her cheeks. She stared wide-eyed at the Phantom pilot and hurried over to him. “Stop!” She pulled his hands off the console.
“Kayla, I’m so sorry.” He slumped to the floor exhausted. “If only I could’ve saved him.”
A voice out of nowhere broke through the vision. “What are you doing out here?”
The room faded, and became transparent. She floated away, slowly disappearing along with the control room. Someone close to her died. I tried to remember his name.
“Wake up!” A dark shadow leaned over me.
Without any control of my own, I took some deep breaths, coughed, and my eyes opened.
“What are you doing out here?” A hand fumbled with my wrist controls and tapped on my helmet.
I sat up still trying to remember the name. I thought it started with an ‘L’. We lost La . . . .
A dark green blur focused into the envirosuit of a Genner officer, aiming a rifle at me. I scooted backwards. “Shit!”
He stood over me wearing a scuffed up helmet, tall boots almost reaching his knees, and gadgets dangled from his belt. My oxygen gauge read fifty percent. He must’ve given me a refill.