by Jake Elwood
Even worse, he realized her ploy was going to work. They had been shipmates, and she'd gone far beyond what any civilian passenger could be expected to do. She'd helped keep the Alexander flying, and that meant something in Carruthers' book. He wasn't going to do an interview. It was inappropriate, and he didn't have the time. But he would tell her so to her face, and he'd do it politely. "Bring her in," he said. "Don't let her touch anything."
Kuzyk nodded and hurried away through the crowded hangar. Carruthers pushed the former cadet from his mind and turned to look up at his new ship.
The corvette Indefatigable was done her refit and ready to fly. She didn't look good. Ugly welds showed where weapons turrets and a missile cradle had been added, and the fighter on the top of her hull looked like a tick sucking blood from an unsuspecting host.
Still, beauty was not her purpose. Fighting was. She looked, as Richard Hammett would have said, like a "proper warship". Carruthers stepped aside as a pair of sailors pushed a hover cart full of supplies past him and up a ramp into the ship. "You're ugly," he murmured, "but you'll do."
"You're kind of ugly yourself, you know."
He turned, smiling, and found Janice Ling smirking up at him. "Janice! It's good to see you."
The smirk changed. Her chin wobbled, and he had the strangest sensation she was about to burst into tears. Then she shocked him by stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist. She squeezed him hard enough that the air left his lungs and he couldn't quite manage to inhale.
Above her head he saw Kuzyk staring at him, wide-eyed. Carruthers gave the boy a fierce look, and Kuzyk whirled and set off across the hangar, looking for something to do.
Janice let go and stepped back, dabbing at her eyes. "Sorry. I just – Oh, Jim, I really needed to see a friendly face."
"All right," he said, mystified. "I'm glad I could help." She'd been a rock all through the long weeks of unrelenting strain on the Alexander. In one crisis after another he'd never seen her crumble. To see her this upset was unnerving.
Janice took a deep breath, then looked around as if checking who was in earshot. "Listen," she said, suddenly businesslike. "I need a favor. It's a big one, too. I'm sorry to ask, but believe me, it's important."
"All right," he said uneasily. "What do you need?"
"You're launching soon, right?" Before he could answer she waved a hand to stop him. "I know, there's things you can tell a reporter, and things you can't. I understand."
Carruthers nodded.
"I need to go with you. As an embedded journalist, just like on the Alexander."
He gaped at her. "No," he said at last. "No, it's out of the question. It's not something I can approve anyway. The brass would decide something like that. They'll say no, and if they ask me what I think, I'll tell them it's a really bad idea." She opened her mouth and he held a hand up. "Janice. Believe me, if I had to take a journalist along I wouldn't want it to be anyone but you. But we're a tiny ship." He waved a hand at the Indefatigable. "A corvette. It's too small for passengers. And we're going into a war zone." He shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, but no."
He expected disappointment. Possibly an argument. He wasn't prepared for the expression of naked fear on her face. She said, "You have to get me off Earth, Jim."
He was staring at her, trying to figure out how to respond, when Kuzyk stepped into his peripheral vision. The boy had a hand up, and he stepped in close, almost touching Carruthers' sleeve.
"I'm busy, Kuzyk."
"Captain, you have more visitors. These ones aren't waiting for permission to come in."
Boots thumped on the concrete floor of the hangar, strangely loud, and Janice slid behind Carruthers. He could feel her hands on his elbows. She was using him for cover, hiding from whoever was coming across the hangar.
Carruthers realized his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it. The new arrivals came into view, three men and a woman rounding the bulk of another corvette maybe fifty paces away. They wore red shirts and black trousers, and he recognized their black armbands. They wore pistols on their hips, too. They paused momentarily. Then one man pointed up at the Indefatigable and they headed straight for the ship.
Carruthers, without turning his head, said, "Kuzyk. Stand beside me. Right beside me. Eyes forward."
Kuzyk, wide-eyed, complied.
"Janice, you get behind him." Her hands vanished from his elbows, and Kuzyk started to turn his head. "Eyes front, damn you!" Kuzyk's head snapped around. "Wait until you hear me start talking. Then get onboard the ship. Kuzyk, you stay between her and our guests."
Not waiting for an answer, Carruthers marched forward. He angled well to the left, putting plenty of distance between himself and Kuzyk. He circled around the ship's forward landing gear, staring at the newcomers, and folded his arms across his chest. He lifted a hand, raked fingers through his hair, then re-crossed his arms. Any kind of motion to draw the eyes of the approaching redshirts. Kuzyk was lousy cover. Janice's only hope was if the EDF group was distracted.
It seemed to be working. All three of them stared at Carruthers as he advanced. When the woman's eyes strayed toward Kuzyk, Carruthers barked, "What the hell do you want?"
That brought all three sets of eyes back to him. He stomped up, then took a couple of side-steps to draw their attention even farther to the left. "This is a military facility," he said. "You can't just barge in."
Confrontation. That's the key to holding their attention. "I should probably have you arrested. Ordering you shot might be excessive. Arrest is pretty reasonable, though." He took a step forward.
"Now, hold on!" The spokesman was the man in the middle. He wore a black sash across his chest and a sour, angry expression. "We're not civilians. Don't you recognize EDF uniforms?"
"You're not in the military. That makes you civilians." She must be on the ship by now. I can dial it down. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"I'm Colonel O'Hare with the Earth Defense Force."
You're a colonel? In an organization that was only dreamed up three weeks ago? He didn't try too hard to hide his amused contempt. The man was a swaggering, self-important little bully, and Carruthers loathed him instinctively.
"We're looking for this woman." O'Hare drew out a palm-sized holo projector and touched it. Janice's head and shoulders appeared in the air, with her name underneath. "Have you seen her?"
A cold wave washed through Carruthers. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew he was in the middle of it, and he knew which side he was on. "Sure. That's Janice Ling. She was on the Alexander. I've probably seen her on the feeds since then."
O'Hare's lips thinned. "Have you seen her today?"
Carruthers could feel his alarm fading, replaced by annoyance. "Maybe you can watch the feeds when you're at work," he said. "I'm busy."
O'Hare didn't like that much. "She was seen heading in this direction."
"This is a secure military facility," Carruthers said. "At least, it's supposed to be. Reporters are about as welcome here as civilians in funny costumes."
O'Hare's face took on a reddish tinge. "I'm going to search this hangar, and I'm going to search your ship."
"Like hell you are."
O'Hare ignored him, gesturing to his underlings. They started moving, one going to either side. O'Hare took a single step toward the Indefatigable.
"Kuzyk!" Carruthers spoke without turning, his eyes on O'Hare. He used his command voice, and all three EDF agents froze.
"Sir?" The voice came from behind Carruthers. Kuzyk sounded unsure, but he'd run the Hive gauntlet with Carruthers, and survived a bloody mutiny. He wouldn't falter.
"Go to the weapons locker. Get yourself a sidearm. Keep the ship secure."
"Aye aye, Sir." The boy still sounded uncertain.
"Kuzyk? When I say to keep the ship secure, what I mean is, shoot any civilian stupid enough to put a foot on the ramp."
"Aye aye, Sir." Now he sounded almost indecently cheerful. Carruthers heard
a metallic clatter as he ran up the ramp into the ship.
O'Hare put a hand on the butt of his pistol.
Carruthers stepped close to him, close enough to grab the man's arm if it became necessary. "I don't know how you talked your way past the sentries at the door, but it won't work again. You're leaving. You can walk out, or I can give you a good hard toss." He smiled, the special smile he used to discourage bar fights. It still worked, he saw. O'Hare shrank back a tiny bit. "Guess which one I'd prefer."
The EDF man gathered himself. "You're interfering with the EDF. We're the defenders of the Earth. You're committing treason."
Carruthers laughed, an astonished burst of sound that made O'Hare flinch. "You little piss-ant." He gestured at the Indefatigable behind him. "I'm outfitting a warship that's about to go battle the Hive in Naxos. You're getting in the way. And you're accusing me of interfering with the defense of Earth?" He planted his hands on his hips. "Let me get this straight. You're interrupting the Navy's efforts to prepare for interstellar war. And you're doing it so you can chase a reporter? One who helped us fight the Hive on board the Alexander?"
O'Hare didn't speak, just turned a darker shade of red.
"What did she do? Tell the world what you morons are actually like?" Carruthers snorted. "Get out of my hangar, you pompous little shit."
O'Hare's right arm moved, ever so slightly, and Carruthers leaned forward, turning the smile back on. "Go ahead. Draw that gun." He leaned in even farther, and O'Hare leaned back. "I dare you."
The EDF man's mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Then he whirled and stomped off toward the exit. The other two followed, and Carruthers walked along behind them. They reached the security station at the hangar entrance, and the trio stalked outside.
Carruthers rounded on the sentries, a pair of sailors, one in a glass booth, the other standing beside the door. "If you two clowns let in one more unescorted civilian I'm going to come down here and kick you in the balls so hard you'll taste semen every time you clear your throats."
The one in the booth said, "But they were ED-"
Carruthers lifted his foot and the man, despite being behind bullet-proof glass, flinched. "Yes, Sir."
"Yes, Sir," said the other sailor, his voice meek.
Carruthers gave them each a disgusted look, then returned to the Indefatigable. When he stepped onto the ramp he found Kuzyk at the top with a blast pistol levelled. Kuzyk lowered the gun quickly. "Sorry, Sir."
"You're doing what I told you. You can stand down now, though." He climbed the ramp and lowered his voice. "How many people saw Janice?"
"I'm not sure. Not many, I think." He gestured aft. "There's a couple of quartermasters in Storage Bay Two and an electrician on the bridge. I don't think they saw anything." He looked past Carruthers at the hangar. "Everyone else was busy looking at you and the redshirts."
"She was never here," Carruthers said. "Understand? Get her a set of coveralls and stick her in a cabin." He thought for a moment. "Stick her in your cabin. Bring her food. Nobody knows she's here but you and me. Nobody finds out. Understand?"
Kuzyk nodded hesitantly.
"Where is she?"
"I'm here," said a small voice. Janice peeked around a corner behind Kuzyk. "Thank you, Jim."
He waved that away. "Where's your cabin, Kuzyk?"
They hurried to the cabin without meeting anyone along the way. It was a tiny room, the floor not quite as wide as the sleeping pod. All three of them crowded in, leaning against the wall because it was almost impossible not to.
"We take off in about fourteen hours," Carruthers said. "You'll have to stay here until then. Kuzyk will bring you coveralls and a cap. Wear them if you have to use the head." He jerked a thumb to the left. "It's that way."
Janice nodded, wide-eyed.
"Once you're off-planet you'll be …" He let his voice taper off. "Actually, 'safe' isn't the word. You'll be on a warship headed for Naxos. Maybe you'd be better off staying here and facing-"
"No," Janice interrupted, her face going pale. "No, you can't leave me here."
"All right." He frowned. "They backed down," he said. He was piecing together his thoughts as he spoke. "I'm a captain, and it's a military facility. Plus I'm one of the heroes of the Alexander. I fought the aliens. So they can't accuse me of treason." He snorted. "Well, they can accuse me. They did. But they can't make it stick."
Kuzyk and Janice watched him, silent.
"What's it like for everyone else?" he said. "With over half the Gate network down, most people can't even leave Earth."
"The EDF has chapters in the colonies," Janice said. "They're worst on Earth, though."
There was a moment of gloomy silence.
"I'm suddenly pretty glad we get to leave," Carruthers said. "I wonder what kind of world we'll come back to."
Chapter 9 – Nicholson
Lieutenant Derek Nicholson checked the magazine in his blast rifle, tugged at the bottom of his light body armor, took a deep breath, and nodded to the sailor at the ramp controls. The ramp dropped, and a wave of humid air swept in, scented by vegetation. It was a strange smell to Nicholson, who had lived his entire life in large cities, and he wanted to stop while he got used to it. Instead he made a "come along" gesture to his team and headed down the ramp at a trot.
The Achilles sat in a forest. Trees stretched away in every direction, and Nicholson felt his heart speed up until he thought it might hammer its way out of his chest. He couldn't see very far in any direction. Anything could be hiding in these trees, and his imagination wasted no time in conjuring up a buffet of dangers. He broke into a run, curving around the side of the ship, the others hurrying behind him.
He headed into the trees, then changed his mind and jogged back toward the ship. With the bulk of the corvette behind him and a thick wing stretched overhead he felt slightly safer. He dropped to one knee, lifted his rifle, and scanned the trees.
A blonde woman dropped to one knee beside him. She scanned the trees like he did, and spoke without taking her eyes from the forest. "What is it, Sir? Did you see something?"
Nicholson glanced around. There were four in the party. The other two, Hudson and Parrish, stood slightly behind him and Adria Gillett. "No," he said. "It's just this forest. It puts me on edge." He glanced at her, expecting to see the same stress on her face.
Instead, she stared at him, her face perplexed. She lowered her rifle. "Forest, Sir?"
He gestured at the trees that surrounded the ship on all sides. "This forest here." He felt himself flush. "Or is it more of a jungle?" He wasn't sure what the difference was.
Gillett spoke hesitantly, almost as if she thought he might be kidding. "It's an orchard, Sir."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
She stared at him for a long moment, blinked, then said, "It's an orchard. Not a forest. All these trees were planted here. They aren't growing wild."
"How can you tell?"
Again she stared at him before speaking. "There's a tree every, what, fifteen meters? They're all the same size. All the same kind. They're in perfectly straight lines. And there's nothing else growing here but grass. No underbrush." She pointed at the top of the nearest tree. "Plus, they're apple trees."
How do you know what kind of trees they are? A tree is a tree, isn't it? You can't know what kind it is. He didn't ask the question out loud. He could feel a hot flush spreading up his neck and creeping toward his face. He examined the treetop. Sure enough, he could make out little yellow orbs among the leaves. "It could still be dangerous," he said.
Gillett didn't speak, just raised a pale eyebrow.
"What if there are animals?"
"Animals, Sir?" She sounded like a parent trying very hard to be patient with a small child.
He shrugged irritably. "You know. Dangerous animals." The idea that he was making a fool of himself was rapidly becoming a conviction. He didn't know what else to do, so he said, "Bears?"
Her eyebrows rose a tiny bit higher. "I
'm sure there are no bears on Ariadne, Lieutenant."
Nicholson lowered his rifle. After a moment he stood. "I grew up in Toronto," he muttered. "We have a few parks." He started walking. "No forests. And no orchards."
Feet rustled on grass as the others followed. No one spoke, but he could imagine their amused glances. His face, already warm, grew downright hot, and he walked faster, not wanting them to see his scarlet cheeks. I sure hope somebody starts shooting at us soon. I need the distraction.
The trees, he discovered, were laid out in a perfect grid. He could see now that they were in straight lines, like the intersections on a sheet of graph paper. His embarrassment increased. Never mind that. The Hive is on this planet. Focus. Lives are at stake.
The near wall of the crater loomed behind him. His assignment was to make his way across the crater floor, keeping out of sight, and gather intelligence. Above all he was to look for human survivors. They would be the best source of information.
The ground became rough, and the perfect grid of trees gave way to a jumble of rock with apple trees sprouting here and there wherever there was a pocket of soil. The ground rose, the trees ended, and Nicholson found himself climbing through a tangle of shrubs. He used both feet and one hand for as long as he could, then reluctantly slung the rifle across his back and used both hands to climb.
The ridge was no more than ten meters high, and the crest too choked with vegetation to offer much of a view. He unslung the rifle and kept watch as the others clambered up to join him. Then he slung the rifle again and clambered down the other side.
Some kind of crop grew on the far side of the ridge. Even Nicholson could see that the knee-high plants formed straight lines with dark furrows on either side. He had no idea what the crop was. The orchard was on flat ground, but this part of the crater was filled with low, rolling hills.
Gillett stepped up beside him, unslinging her rifle. "Is that a building?" She pointed.