No Man's Land (Defending The Future)

by Jennifer Brozek

  “Perhaps, but let your people at the base know so they can deal with her if you get her back alive.”

  She nodded. “Will do. Was there anything else, Commander?”

  “Ryan,” he corrected her with a smile. “I’m sorry you got your leave cancelled. I actually requested your team be sent because I knew you had the expertise to handle this situation. Now I know about Jordan going with you, I’m glad I did. Perhaps I can make it up to you sometime, by taking you off the base for a decent meal?”

  She hesitated, well aware of the regulations.

  “The regs only apply to the front-line soldiers,” he said, reading her mind. “It’s to prevent you Valkyries having to pick up someone you’re involved with. My rank means I have to stay in the base while they take the risks.” He pulled a face, then grinned, the smile lighting up his eyes. “But right now, it does have its fringe benefits.”

  “In that case, I’d like that,” she said, smiling back at him. “We don’t often get to leave the base and go up to the mother ship.”

  “Then that’s a date,” he said. “There was one other thing.”

  “What?”

  “I have a badly injured lad in the Medbay here. I’m afraid he won’t last until the evac ship comes later today. Can you possibly put him in one of your cryo units and take him with you?”

  Sigrun shook her head, regretfully. “I’m sorry, Ryan, but you know I can’t. We only transport the dead.”

  “I know, but I had to ask. He’s a good lad, took his injuries while saving one of my company commanders. Hate to see him die.”

  “If you think he’ll die, then you know what to do.”

  “I always felt that procedure was rather hit and miss, not something to do if there was a chance of life being prolonged.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s the best I can offer. Our medic sisters will get here as fast as they can if you have reported your young soldier’s condition.”

  Ryan nodded, then reached back on his desk to retrieve a piece of paper. “Here’s the frequency for Ms. Jordan’s locator, and the one for the two-person scouting SnoCat that she took. We gave her a wrist unit when she arrived here. Hopefully she’s still wearing it under her armor.”

  “What kind of armor is she in? And when exactly did she go missing?” Sigrun leaned forward to place the glass on his desk, but Ryan took it from her.

  “Standard civilian armor, with a twenty-four hour charge and air supply that lasts about the same. She’d been out that day for about eight hours when the unit she was with returned to base. Twilight is dangerous at this time of year. It confuses the senses easily, makes you disoriented. Her suit had had the air replaced, but had only been on charge for maybe another eight hours instead of the twelve those suits need.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s about 0900 now, I’d say she probably went AWOL about 0200, so she’s been out there some seven hours.”

  “So she’s probably got only another three or four hours left, given it wasn’t fully charged,” said Sigrun thoughtfully. “She may have air, but the cold will kill her long before the air runs out. What about the SnoCat? Does it have good enough heating for her to use it once the suit runs out? Or any chance she’d be savvy enough to take a spare battery pack for her suit?”

  “The ’Cat uses the same battery packs as the suits, but in multiples. Theoretically, she could use them in her suit. The SnoCat isn’t really built for use without a suit on, though it does have enough basic heating to allow you to take your helmet and gloves off when inside. It’s a moot point if it would provide a better shelter than a snow dug-out in an emergency, though, given how an igloo actually keeps heat in.”

  “I’d better get moving, then,” she said, getting up. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Your next leave is two weeks after this, right?” he asked as he also got to his feet.

  She nodded.

  “Then I’ll see you two weeks from today.”

  “I’ll look forward to that,” she said as he escorted her to the door.

  No Man’s Land for the 5th covered an area roughly ten miles long by two miles wide. It was the contested zone, and right now they were flying high over the fighting, transmitting their own special signal that alerted both sides to their neutral presence. Both the Ymir and the Humans were dug deep into snow bunkers and trenches, vehicles hidden under camouflage, neither side gaining an inch on the other. Mortars pounded away, bombarding either side but every now and then the flare of an energy canon lit up the sky as one side or the other thought they had an important target in their range finders.

  ‘What a waste of lives on both sides,” muttered Kara.

  “I know, and I agree,” she said. “Any sign of either of those signals yet?”

  “None, and it’s getting late. If she was in a SnoCat, she could be anywhere, even outside No Man’s Land.”

  “Then we widen our search,” said Sigrun.

  “Light’s going, soon it’ll be twilight and the fighting will stop,” said Mist. “Maybe if we can fly lower down we’ll pick up something.”

  “Maybe, but widen the search for now, please. Eir, take a break, Kara can handle your board. I’m taking one now,” she said, getting to her feet and stretching. “Back in ten, ladies.”

  She walked down to her cabin, going into the bathroom to wet her face and freshen up some. It had been a long day, and was promising to be an even longer night. There was still a small chance of finding the journalist alive, but that was shrinking with every minute that passed.

  Coming out of the bathroom, her bed looked so inviting that she lay down, promising herself she was only closing her eyes for five minutes, armor and all.

  She woke to Kara shaking her arm. “Sigrun! Wake up. We’re picking up a signal from the SnoCat!”

  “What?” she asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Only a couple of hours. I left you because you obviously needed it and nothing was happening.”

  Swinging her legs off the bed, she got up and followed Kara back to the bridge. “Where’s the signal coming from?”

  “Down in the lee of the Fenris Mountains,” said Mist. “On the Ymir side,” she added quietly.

  Sigrun groaned. “It would just have to be there, wouldn’t it? Bloody woman is more trouble than she’s worth!“

  “It’s fully twilight now, and the fighting’s stopped. Want me to take her down?” asked Kara, slipping back into her seat.

  “Any comm chatter?”

  “Some, from both sides.”

  “Can you make it out? Are the Ymir aware of her?”

  “Not as yet, but this area did see heavy fighting earlier today.“

  “Take us down, carefully.”

  “Always, Captain,” chuckled Kara, beginning to bank the scouter and head back to the source of the signal.

  “This is as close as I can get to the signal, Captain,” said Mist as Sleipnir settled gently down into the loose snow.

  “Keep her powered up, Kara. Once we’ve recovered Ms. Jordan, there will be other bodies to check,” she said, closing down her board and grabbing up her gloves.

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Brynhild, Hruna, and Gudrun, meet me in the cargo bay,” she said over the ship’s comm. “Where’s that mobile tracker?” she asked, rifling about in her locker.

  “Here, Captain,” said Mist. “I set the frequencies in it already for you. Just switch it on and it’s good to go.”

  “Take care out there, Captain,” said Kara as Sigrun grabbed her helmet for the second time that day.

  “Always,” she said, reaching up to put it on and seal it.

  The other two women met her at the end of the cargo bay access corridor. The rear ramp was already open and they were carrying folding spades. Gudrun handed her one.

  “There’s a wind sprung up, got ourselves a blizzard building out there,” said Hruna.

  “Just what we need,” muttered Sigrun as she walked down the ra
mp, her boots ringing on the metal plating.

  Outside, loose snow was already beginning to swirl in the gathering wind. So far it was only at just above ground level, but before long, it would be swirling everywhere as the windstorm built.

  Switching on the tracker, she walked a good ten feet out from the rear of the ship then began heading off to the south, following the tiny blip on the screen. “This way,” she said.

  The terrain was heavy going even with their powered armor. The land had been churned up by the movements of heavy vehicles, and from ordnance landing in it. Loose snow, blown about by the gathering windstorm, lay about six inches deep. They slogged along for several hundred feet before Sigrun finally stopped.

  “It should be here somewhere,” she said, unfastening the high-powered flashlight that hung from a clip at her waist.

  The beam pierced through the haze of snow and the blue twilight, throwing everything in its path into stark contrast. Snow was churned about more than usual, and she could see the outlines of what could be a SnoCat.

  “Let’s get digging,” she said, kneeling down at the edge of the amorphous shape.

  Finally someone’s spade hit metal and they heard the clang through their suit speakers.

  “Pay dirt at last,” said Hruna. “Bloody woman should be sentenced to six months digging up corpses here for this stunt!”

  Sigrun ignored the comment as she began to scrape at the snow by where they’d heard the clang. Gradually the shape of the SnoCat was revealed, and inside it, they could see a hunched up form.

  “Well, she’s there at least,” said Gudrun, pulling out her scanner. “Not detecting any life signs, though.”

  “After all this time, it’s what we expected,” said Sigrun as they worked away at freeing the door into the ‘Cat.

  It was frozen shut when they finally had it completely exposed.

  “Stand clear,” said Hruna, pulling out her pistol and turning the setting to a low energy one instead of stun. She aimed at the seal between the door and bodywork and began firing, moving slowly along the seam as she did.

  Snow hissed and spat, the metal heated up, sending puffs of burning sealing material into the air outside, and fogging up the inside.

  “Good job she’s wearing a helmet,” said Gudrun. “If she wasn’t dead already, she would be now.”

  “Stop bitching me about it. You want her out, don’t you?“ said Hruna good-naturedly.

  “You’re doing a grand job,” said Sigrun soothingly. “The fumes won’t matter to her one way or another.”

  Hruna stopped and took hold of the handle and pulled, hard. The door came flying off in her hand, sending her toppling onto her butt in the snow. Cursing, she got up and threw the door away.

  “Let’s get her out,” said Gudrun, kneeling down and squirming her way into the cab to grab hold of the journalist.

  “Captain,” came Kara‘s urgent voice on the suit comm. “It’s Jordan, he got out and I think he’s headed your way.”

  “How the hell did he get out?” demanded Sigrun.

  “He hacked the locks,” she said. “It never occurred to me a Company man like him would be able to do that.”

  “Never mind. Stay with the ship, we’ll be on the lookout for him.”

  “There’s more Captain,” said Kara.

  Just then Sigrun noticed a shadow looming over her from behind—a shadow that wasn’t human.

  “Oh crap,” she said. “I think I know what you’re going to tell me.”

  “There are Ymir in your area. I’m picking up comm chatter from them about our landing. They know it’s us, but they’re curious about what’s brought us down at this time of night.”

  “Yeah, they just found us, Kara,” she said, slowly turning round. “Sigrun out.”

  The Ymir was tall like all their species, about seven feet tall, Sigrun calculated as she looked up the bright blue armor to the helmet the female wore. Slowly, she switched off the flashlight—not necessary because the group of Ymir had brought their own—and held her hands out in the universal greeting of unarmed friendship.

  Beside her, Hruna, all marine and all paranoid, flicked her pistol back to stun and holstered it, then held out her hands.

  Gudrun, still hauling the dead journalist out of the SnoCat, sat back on her heels and just looked up at them.

  “Greetings,” said Sigrun, then repeated it in her basic Ymir.

  The lead female reached out toward her, touching the small ornamental wings on the side of her helmet.

  “Valkyries,” she said, her voice deep and sonorous.

  “Valkyries,” agreed Sigrun. Slowly she turned and pointed to Gudrun. “We collect the dead.”

  “Why woman dead?” came the slow, measured question. “Not fighting?”

  “No, no,” Sigrun reassured her hurriedly. “Journalist, writer of words with the soldiers. Not fighter. She left base at night to . . . explore,” she improvised.

  “Why?” asked a second Ymir.

  “To write words of what the war is like for those on home world.”

  A torrent of fast speech between the women greeted this revelation. After a few minutes, the one in the lead silenced them and turned back to Sigrun.

  “Understand. She die of cold?”

  “Yes,” said Sigrun, feeling relief flooding through her. “Yes, she did. Suit battery ran out.”

  “We take, you come,” she said, gesturing one of the others forward. “Bakkra, I am.”

  “Sigrun,” she said, moving aside as the other woman came forward and knelt down to pick up the body of the journalist.

  “Bodies of yours find, load in ship for you,” said Bakkra. “You want?”

  “Please,” she said. “I tell my people.”

  “Good. Now follow.”

  Hastily Sigrun gestured to Hruna and Gudrun to follow while she tersely relayed to Kara what was happening.

  “What about Jordan?”

  “I hope the fool falls down a bloody crevasse,” she said. “I can’t worry about him when we’re having a contact with the Ymir like this. Do you realize how rare this is? And they are offering to help Ms. Jordan.”

  “I understand, Captain. Want us to go look for him? He has a tracker on.”

  “No, stay there and help the Ymir. Load the ones we can Awaken or harvest into the cryo units as usual. Send his frequency to my tracker and I’ll try to find him.“

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The Ymir base was nearby. In fact, they’d only gone a few yards when out of the gloom and incipient blizzard, a fur-clad figure emerged and flung itself on the Ymir holding the body of the dead woman.

  “What the hell are you doing with her? Put her down you alien bastards!”

  The Ymir stopped dead in its tracks and looked down at the person beating his hands against her armored flanks.

  “Man,” she said clearly, her tone conveying a disgust that crossed any species’ barrier.

  “Crap,” said Gudrun. “Crap, crap, crap.”

  Jordan turned away from the Ymir and flung himself on Sigrun. “And you! You’re allowing them to take her! She’s my fiancé! We planned to get married next month, and you let her die!”

  The sheer impact of his body hitting hers toppled Sigrun over on her back into the snow as Jordan began to pound his fists on her helmet visor. She felt a tug at her side, then he was gone. There was a scream from Gudrun, followed by a shot.

  Rolling to one side, she pushed herself to her feet, terrified at what she’d find. It was Hruna that lay dead, her head a ruin of blood and bone and bits of helmet. Across from her, Jordan was held suspended in the grip of one of the Ymir.

  “Not soldier,” Sigrun said weakly. “Company sent him. Told us brother of dead woman, not fiancé—husband-to-be.”

  “He break treaty,” hissed the woman holding Jordan as he began to swear and struggle in her grasp. “Ours now.”

  Sigrun knew the treaty by heart, they all did, and by its rules, any male who strayed into
No Man’s Land belonged to whichever side caught him. She nodded, feeling sick to her stomach, not just at the loss of Hruna, one of her most trusted troops, but also at having to give Jordan over to the Ymir alive.

  “Yours,” she said.

  “Good,” Bakkra said. “Now we treat dead one.”

  “You’re giving me to them?” yelled Jordan. “What the hell kind of woman are you? You can’t hand me over to the aliens like this!”

  “Oh, yes I can,” snarled Sigrun, anger evaporating any pity she might have felt for him. “You broke the treaty despite being warned to stay in the ship! You murdered one of my women! The treaty is more important than you or me! It allows us to Awaken the dead soldiers so they can live again, to harvest the organs of those who are only brain dead so their injured comrades can be saved! Had you stayed where you were, you might have gotten your girlfriend back, but not now. Now she’ll take Hruna’s place in my troop, and no one will fault me for leaving you with the Ymir!”

  Hello there. Take it easy. You’ve had an accident, but you’re all right now. Who are you? Your name is Olrun, and you’re a Valkyrie like me. When you get out of Medbay, you’ll be in my unit. Our part in the War is here on the planet Valhalla, near the front line . . .

  Endings

  Judi Fleming

  I stared at the blank status panel on my servo-suit’s cracked faceplate and asked myself if I’d ever been so exhausted that I couldn’t take another step before in my life. I don’t mean when you give up because you felt worn out or your muscles burned. I mean when you really couldn’t move another muscle. Not even when your life depended on it. I was at that point and it was frightening.

  I struggled to keep this thought going, pushing the adrenalin through my system, hoping that there were enough undamaged solar cells on the armored exterior of the space suit to recharge when the sun came up in six hours while I fought with my overwhelming fatigue. The soft starlight reflected off my face plate, but didn’t fog up. Good news there. It meant life support was still on line, so the three-hundred-pound battle suit surrounded me in coffin-like comfort.