Only the military knew about Cabot’s demotion from commander of the cadet unit. Pala didn’t even know why it had happened, only that it had.
The image of her boyfriend’s mutilated body boiled into her again. Now there was no chance for Cabot to fix his mistakes. Mistakes that had nearly cost him his military career. Pala took a deep tremulous breath and bitterly turned away. She picked up the pace another notch and Quade drifted behind her, working on his own thoughts and questions, leaving Pala to work alone on hers.
She focused on the most important question: Who would want Cabot dead?
No one. At least, no one she knew. Everyone liked him. It didn’t make sense. Therefore, Cabot couldn’t have been the target. Yet, neither the scientist nor the other ranger, were important enough to warrant attack.
A covey of black, six-legged creatures scattered out of the brush ahead of Pala and her trackers, yellow skin wings tucked tightly against their football-sized bodies. The wooly bird-animals walked quickly, but as the rangers approached, some hopped, while others squatted low, as if hidden. As the cadets closed on them, the squatters unfolded their wings and took two quick hops. They lifted to fly low over blue and plum bushes landing just far enough ahead to settle down. Some landed right in the march path and had to move again and again.
Within an hour, the rain let loose, pelting down upon them. They saw only falling water and the narrow north-south rock ridge they were trailing. They came to a long, thin overhang and Pala swept her hand across in front of her. The group of scientists and cadets filed under the ledge, single file, some pulling out navy and green blankets as they moved.
Rain drummed on wide, thick leaves, the ground, and the rock ledge above them. Thunder boomed around them in a constant cacophony of noise. Any sound the group might make would be muffled and indistinct. Pala settled in at the end of the line, beside Quade. To her men she said, “You can talk, but keep it low.”
Murmurs from the huddled rangers mixed into the drip and splat of water on mud. Two of the scientists crawled from man to man, doctoring wrist wounds. Laramie worked toward the far end, cringing away from the wall of water beyond the ledge. Denten came towards Pala and Quade. He shook his head at them, and Pala motioned him to sit beside her, at the very end of the line. When settled, he said, “I understand that we had to leave quickly, but now that we’ve stopped there’s time to treat our wounds. Because of the heat, some of them are already heading into infection. Like yours.” He pointed at her wrist.
She raised it up, inspecting the wound. The dark, swollen circle oozed puss around the edges and had increased in diameter to double its previous size. Quade held up his wrist showing pink healthy edges around the sore.
Pala held out her wrist for the scientist. “An infection doesn’t mean much. It takes a lot more than that to bring one of us down.”
“That may be true on Earth, but this isn’t home. Everything seems to react differently here.” He opened a small plastic vial. “This is alum. I want to try it on you. It’s nothing but an old folk remedy, but it often works to pull infection out of a wound. It’s actually what we use to crystallize bodies. I don’t think it’ll do any worse than anything else I have.” He packed it onto her cut, like a cast, and covered it with a small bandage.
“Our colleague, Bardef, is exhausted, he needs this rest. We’ve got him started on antibiotics, but that swelling worries me.” Denten nodded toward the trembling scientist, who lay against the rock wall behind him, his eyes closed. Laramie hovered over him, doctoring his wrist.
“We’re about a day’s march from base camp,” Quade said.
Denten hesitated, and then said to Pala, “Do you mind telling me what happened? All I know is suddenly we were shoved onto the ground. Some of the cadets were killed, weren’t they? One of our researchers, too.”
Why not tell him? The scientists had just as much to lose as her men. “They were attacked by a gunnery sphere. Yes, it killed your colleague and two of my rangers. We don’t know who sent it or why. We also don’t know if there are more coming. That’s why we removed the ID transmitters and left the visors behind. We’ll continue to travel hard and fast until we get back to the base camp. I need to know if there’s any reason your researcher should be dead. Was he working on something top secret? Did he make someone angry? Anything?”
Denten shook his head. “Someone mad? Not a chance. He was so easy going. As far as top secret, he worked on the same things I do. None of that’s classified at all. I can’t think of anything to help you. I’m sorry.”
Pala closed her eyes and settled against the rock wall behind her, listening to the rolls of thunder. Jagged points of stone dug into her back, distracting her, focusing her grief into something she could handle.
Down the line, the murmurs of her men settled into a steady background noise. The constant strum of rain on the ground insulated them like a curtain. It felt almost safe here. She reviewed her conversation with Denten. What he had said confirmed in her mind that Cabot had been the target. Her heart suddenly clenched within her, sucking her into a well of grief. Why did he have to –
She shifted her back across the rough rocks, using the pain to force her mind away from Cabot’s death and onto a new topic.
She’d need four replacements since she wasn’t going to keep either of the new recruits that she'd caught slaking. Being posted in her unit was a prized assignment. She and Cabot had gone through hundreds of candidates just to find those two. And they were barely qualified for her unit. She should have passed by them. But there had been no better cadets available. Where was she going to get four?
The group suddenly quieted and Quade nudged her. She opened her eyes. Everyone was facing straight forward, staring at a large sphere. It was suspended in the air like a solidified raindrop, its metal facets pimpled with water. The size suggested Gunnery, but she wouldn’t be able to tell for sure until its ports opened and it fired. It could be a large collection sphere. But why would it have come to them? They just weren’t programmed for that. More importantly, how did it find them?
She softly tapped one finger against Quade’s sleeve.
He nodded imperceptibly.
Only one sphere. That they’d seen, that is. The spheres were gauged to react on movement and sound, but they weren’t quite up to speed yet. Minute actions and sounds didn’t seem to affect them. Hopefully.
Pala hissed through her teeth, gradually raising the volume and changing it into the name of the ranger at the far end of the line. Suez slowly turned her head to look at Pala for instructions.
Pala pursed her lips toward the outside, closing her hands on her rifle at the same time.
Beside her, Quade slowly inched his weapon higher and higher, readying it to fire on the sphere if needed.
Suez carefully picked up a rock and flipped it far to the right of the ledge.
The sphere whirled, firing three fast rounds. The rock exploded before it landed, shooting dust and fragments in all directions.
Definitely Gunnery.
CHAPTER
6
The MR-405 gunnery sphere returned to its position in front of Pala, Quade and Denten. The metal echoed the gray of the sky and glittering raindrops rolled down its faceted side, splatting onto waterlogged mud and rock. There was no sound other than the rain and the dying wind.
The chips were gone. But there still had to be another ID transmitter of some kind. The sphere’s position meant that it had to be somewhere in the possession of one of the three of them. Chances were, it was something she’d taken off Cabot, or one of them would have been targeted in the first attack.
Pala took hold of her blue-green mottled pack and eased it toward Quade, one-half of a centimeter at a time. The sphere followed. The transmitter was in her pack. So, she’d been the initial target, not Cabot.
Quade eased his cannon into place bit-by-bit, pointing it at the ground a meter into the open instead of at the sphere like the rest of her cadets. Pala saw his pl
an. He was going to trigger the sphere to fire by shooting the pack with the transmitter inside. Then, before the sphere could shift its fire onto Quade, her rangers would have dispatched it. She grimaced. She didn’t like the plan, but it seemed to be the best they had. Down the line, her rangers’ cannons softly hummed in readiness.
Slowly, she stretched out on the soggy ground. Each inch seemed to take an eternity to cross. The sphere changed its position as she moved. Pala set the pack as far away as possible, in a patch of newly arrived sun. She then crept back into a sitting position beside Denten. All they had to do was blow up the sphere without any of her men getting killed. Simple.
Denten leaned back to make more room for her. A rock broke loose from the wall behind him and spun into another with a loud clack. Pala threw herself onto Denten, shoving him to the ground. She wrapped around him, trying to cover him with as much of her long, lean body as she could.
Nearby, Quade’s Ellison cannon fired, followed by a barrage of weapon’s fire from her men. A volley of fire returned from the sphere and sparked against rock on the ground and the stone wall behind them, causing it to spit fragments in all directions. A sharp sting lanced across Pala’s back and another nicked the back of her arm. Then, only the slowing rain and the hums of ready cannons filled the air.
Pala slowly raised herself off of Denten. Quade stood. He reached down and helped her to her feet and into the open. Blackened and twisted metal alloy remains sputtered sparks and smoke into the rain. Sharp, white and black weapon discharge marks slashed across the trees behind it. Leaves, bark and twigs littered the ground. The overhang was filled with heated-electron smoke. Her pack was nothing but frayed and burnt pieces of cloth. Its contents lay mangled and strewn in metallic and burning clumps.
One of the new recruits she planned to replace, Roccio, kicked the sphere with his toe. When the machine hissed garbled flames, he jumped. The group of rangers broke into raucous laughter.
Denten’s voice came from close behind her. He pulled her out of the slowing rain and back under the ledge, gripping her arm with one hand while groping in his pack with the other. “You’re bleeding. I think you've been hit.”
Pala turned her head, twisting her arm to see the back of her tricep. Black edges marked a long, raw, jagged undercut. She had, indeed, been hit. “Just a graze.”
“There’s a hole in the back of your shirt. Hold still.” Lifting her shirt in back, Denten sucked in his breath. When he touched the wound there, Pala’s stomach lurched into quivering nausea. He frowned. “This one is more than a graze. I’ll need to work on it.”
“Hurry up, then, please. We need to reach base before dark.” She hooked her thumbs under the front of her fatigue shirt and pulled it over her head. Laramie handed items from the medical kit to Denten as he worked on her. With each touch, a wave of nausea washed through Pala. She asked, "Where'd you get your medical training?"
"I did a veterinarian internship for two summers." He lapsed into silence. When he spoke again, his voice was tight. “Well, if it had been any deeper, it would have lanced one of your lungs. As it is, four of your ribs are scored pretty badly. I’ve put some plastic bone in the grooves. I’m going to staple you shut now. You’ll have to be careful for a few days.” Denten began with the staple gun, popping the sharp-pronged bits of metal into her skin. Pala swallowed hard at the sweet vomit coating that flooded her mouth.
“Just a few more seconds.” He tugged a bandage around her ribs, and then dug in his pack again. When he straightened, he had a small gel-tab. “This is for pain. Trust me, if you want to move fast, you’ll need it. And for the record,” he added, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “I really didn’t enjoy that whole shooting sphere experience. Thank you, though, for saving my life.”
Pala nodded and popped the tab into her mouth, crushing it between her teeth. The bubble-gum flavor added to her nausea and again she took deep breaths to quell the pitch in her stomach.
A shrill cry from a bird filled the air, quickly followed by several more, and the jungle surrounding them returned to a normal symphony of sounds. More patches of sun broke though the storm. It wouldn’t be long before the rain stopped and the humidity became oppressive. She hoped the scientists were up to it. Suez approached, water dripping off her aquiline nose. She held out what was left of a canteen. “Souvenir for ya, Marshal.”
Pala took the twisted, torn piece of metal and shock lit across her body. Her canteen. The gold base was ripped in half, no doubt from where the transmitter had been hidden. She ran her finger over what etchings remained of the inscription: “Into Eternity”.
Two weeks prior to the mission, Cabot had given her that canteen. She’d come back to her quarters to a candlelight dinner. Cabot was nowhere to be seen, but his happy whistle emanated from her kitchen.
Slowly, she’d shut the door and dropped her pack on the floor. General Grollier had called her early that morning, asking her to put her cadet rangers through the 10K obstacle course as a demonstration of the new training methods. Top Brass from other Earth military departments watched silently and left just as silently, appearing again when she and her men approached the firing range. She and her cadets were asked to run the obstacle course for a second time.
A full fourteen hours later, Pala had felt like a slug that was dissected under a microscope and left to squirm in the dust until it died. She skirted around the edge of the living/dining area and headed toward the bedroom and the adjoining shower.
As if on cue, Cabot came out of the kitchen, carrying a small bowl of floating roses. He stopped when he saw her and smiled that sheepish ‘busted’ smile. “I let myself in.”
Pala realized her shower had just possibly been postponed until later. “What’s this for?” she asked, gesturing toward the table.
He turned away and set the bowl between the candles. The sweet scent of the roses drifted in the air. When he turned back, he had a package in his hands. He handed it to her. The paper was decorated with tiny roses and birds and a golden bow taped to the top of the box. On the envelope of the card was her name in big block letters. “This is for you.”
“Can we do this later? I really need a shower.” She tried to hand the package back to him, but when he stepped back with his hands up, she sighed, giving in. While she scrambled at the wrapping paper with her worn fingernails, she said, “You should have been with us today. All the big boys were there. You would have liked it.”
He shrugged. “Doctor’s orders.” As proof, he rubbed his wrist where the radius bone was re-manufacturing itself after being broken by Physe and two other rangers during a hand-to-hand training exercise.
At last Pala got the paper undone, remembering to rescue the card before it fell to the floor. The box was plain white, with no clue of what was hidden inside. As she reached to jerk the tape loose from the sealed flaps, Cabot put his hand on hers.
He smiled. “It’s not what would be called romantic, but it's something you’ll take everywhere. I wanted you to keep it with you.”
She nodded and he let go of her hand. It miffed her that he would do this to her now, after everything. When she’d finally had enough of their relationship.
Cushioned inside three sheets of blue gossamer fabric was the silver canteen. She gently pulled it out, dropping the box on the floor with the paper. The canteen was hourglass shaped, with a gold base. As canteens went, it was stunning. The light from the candles flickered across the smooth curves, and she ran her finger around the edges, touching something etched in the gold base.
She glanced up at Cabot, and then moved closer to the candles to read what he’d put there. “Into Eternity.”
Cabot stepped in beside her and slid his good arm around her waist. “I know things have been tough between us lately.”
Pala raised her eyebrows. So this gift was a peace token. Did he think she was like him and could be bought? “Tough? Where have you been? I’ve been thinking of breaking up.”
He inhaled sharply.
After a few seconds, he responded. “All right. It’s been worse than tough. It’s been staggeringly bad. I know it’s been my fault, Pala. But, I still love you.” He pointed at the inscription. “That much. I don’t want to break up. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I’ll change. Just help me.”
His gaze never left her face, waiting for her reaction.
Pala wavered. She was too tired, too hot, and too filthy to think about anything tonight. All she wanted was a shower and her bed. She glanced around the table, and then at the canteen. Finally, she looked up at him. Oddly, her heart churned inside her chest. Strange that she should still feel something for him now.
Warily, Pala had nodded.
Now, Pala stared at the remains of the inscription. The whole incident looked pretty damaging for Cabot. Is that why he stared at her so strangely in the clearing? Had her own boyfriend tried to kill her?
Yet, somehow, in the dark he’d grabbed her pack. Did that mean he didn’t know about the transmitter chip, or had he grabbed the wrong pack to save her?
Taking a deep breath, she slowly blew out through pursed lips. When she spoke, her voice came out thin. This was no time to be weak. She put more force behind her words and they came out stronger than intended, almost a shout. “All right people. This is no longer a civilian mission with military escort. It's now military, protecting civilians. We can safely assume our position is known. Storm or no, we’ll be running double-time. That’s high-speed, faster than a jog, for you scientific types. I hope you three took your vitamins because you need to keep up. The good news is that we’ll cut at least two hours off our travel time.”
Pala started off. Running silent in the rain, the only sounds were the footfalls slogging through puddles. Changing direction again, she moved them diagonally toward the base camp. She smiled grimly. There was no point in sneaking in now. Since the last sphere wouldn’t return, the attacker would know they’d survived.
Doctors Bardef and Laramie had trouble with the pace, and Bardef stumbled frequently. As she predicted, the storm ended and the sun came out, adding mottled shadows to their trail. The humidity bore down on them and, despite her threats, Pala kept the pace at a very slow double-time. Still, there would be no breaks, unless one of them actually keeled over. She motioned for Physe to assist Bardef. Suez moved in close to Laramie, but didn’t lend her support yet. Denten didn’t seem to have a problem. He handled this heavier gravity almost as well as her cadets.
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