“I like your thinking, Rick.” Sam said.
Nelson looked at the boulder field and nodded approval. The mining camp hadn't been set up for security, a military camp would have cleared the boulders to provide a field of fire. The mining company only cared that the boulders didn't interfere with crawlers. “Yeah, let’s get off this road. I got a feeling like we’re being watched. The camp must have some sort of surveillance cameras around here.” Nelson said, and led the way off the road, looking for poles with cameras on top. In fact, there were no active cameras in their direction, only amongst the buildings ahead.
What the hell were the three men doing, Mac ground his teeth in anger?! The three men had walked off the road, and were now headed toward the damned boulder field. If they reached the boulders, Mac knew he was in trouble, he would have a hell of a time finding them in around the boulders, and the boulders came within a hundred meters of the outermost camp buildings. He couldn’t get much closer now, one of the men kept glancing behind them, and between Mac and the boulder field the ground was totally open. If the men saw him coming, they would scatter and run. Damn. He needed to take a shot from here, if he hit one of the men, then one or both of the others would hesitate, try to help the wounded man, giving Mac a chance to take out at least one more. Yeah, that was a good idea. He’d seen that in an old war video. He lifted the gun to his shoulder and selected single shot mode. Lightly squeezing the trigger activated the laser rangefinder, and the display in the scope showed distance to the target, and the wind velocity. Mac smiled, adjusted the scope to compensate, centered the crosshairs on the back of the nearest man, and squeezed the trigger until the gun bucked slightly.
He missed! In the thin atmosphere of Ares, he hadn’t needed to compensate for the wind at all! The shot, a magnetically propelled explosive-tipped dart, passed between Nelson’s torso and his right arm, and impacted a boulder ahead of the shuttle pilot, exploding and flinging chips of rock into the air. Seeing that, the three men turned as one, to see a figure in an environment suit rise up from next to the hut, holding a rifle, looking agitated. The figure put the rifle to his shoulder, and the three shuttle survivors didn’t need to see any more. “Run!” Nelson shouted.
Running in an environment suit, on a planet with almost Earth-normal gravity, was not easy. The additional experience Sam and Nelson had in suits did not matter, like Rick, they clumsily tripped over small rocks, stumbled across shallow depressions in the soil, and waved their arms to keep their balance, keep upright, keep moving. Running awkwardly saved their lives. Behind them, Mac, instead of staying prone to steady his aim, tried to shoot on the run at the weaving, stumbling targets, and missed every time. In front of the men, boulders exploded as the darts hit, showering the men with rock chips, which bounced off their helmets with a clanging sound. Then they were in the boulder field, and ran to the left and the right, until they couldn’t see anything but boulders all around them. They stopped, breathing heavily. Nelson gestured the three to put their helmets together, in direct contact. Through the helmet, Rick heard Nelson’s muffled, hollow-sounding voice, say “They may have equipment to track radio signals, we need to stay off the radio.”
“I only saw one guy.” Rick shouted, not sure how loud he had to talk to be heard thru the helmet.
“Me too, just one guy. I think there is only one guy out here.” Sam said, thinking back to his days in the Marines. “If there was more than one, they would have had a second guy here in the boulder field, to cut us off. That’s what I would do.”
“He doesn’t need to track us by radio, look at our footprints.” Rick pointed to the ground. In the area where they stood, they were the first humans, the first creatures of any kind, to ever trod that soil. The miners apparently had avoided the boulder field. Their footprints coming into the boulder field were sharply outlined, impossible to miss. “All he has to do is follow our footprints.”
“You’re right, man.” Sam agreed. “What do we do?”
“You’re the Marine, Sam, you tell us.” Nelson protested.
“Hey, I was in the Corps for only four years, and that was a long time ago, amigo! Give me a weapon and I’ll think of something. Right now, all we can do is try to hit him with a rock. I don’t like those odds, man. Can’t throw a rock as far as he can shoot.”
Rick thought of the toolkit bag still slung over his shoulder. “I think I know a way to even those odds.”
Mac hesitated at the edge of the boulder field. Some of the boulders were less than waist-high, not useful for cover, but most of the boulders were big, taller than he was, and some were bigger than a crawler. It was, he had to admit, a great place for the three shuttle survivors to even the odds. Damn. He couldn’t go back now, he couldn’t call Valjean and tell the Boss he’d let the three get away because he was afraid to pursue unarmed men into the boulder field. He notched the rifle’s selector from single shot to semi-auto, so it would fire three-round bursts. Lay down enough explosive darts, he figured, and he wouldn’t need careful aim. Pray and spray.
It didn’t work out quite the way Mac figured. He followed the trail of footprints, hugging close to boulders, then sprinting ahead. He fancied himself a warrior on a battlefield. Really, he was a punk, hunting unarmed prey. He came around a rock, and there, in front of him, was one of the men he was hunting, running away from him. Mac took the extra split second to stand still and aim, then he fired a burst into the man’s back. And missed. The darts went right through, exploding against boulders. A hologram. They had a holoprojector! As he stood, open-mouthed in surprise, a rock clanged off the back of his helmet, almost knocking him down, almost making his drop the rifle. He staggered, knocking his shoulder on a rock, spun around and fired wildly. Nobody there. He spun back around, and running toward him was a man, rock held above his head in one fist. Mac fired a burst.
Damn! Hologram again! The image flickered and blinked out. He ground his teeth in anger. They had to be close in order to project the image. With a roar of frustration, he charged ahead, but found only tracks leading in three directions.
For ten wild minutes, the three men led Mac on a confusing chase, going back over their own tracks, holograms popping up here and there. Inevitably, Mac would fire a burst into what turned out to be a hologram, and then it would vanish, and he would often get smashed in the back, or in the helmet, by a rock thrown from behind him. There were now so many tracks covering the area, his and theirs, that he couldn’t use the tracks to follow them with any degree of certainty. Also, he was lost, he had no idea where the mining camp was. His head hurt from the helmet getting bashed by rocks, and he was breathing so hard that his hands were shaking. He needed to slow down, calm his breathing, calm his racing pulse, and think.
Mac walked ahead, slowly, warily, stalking his prey, his labored breathing loud inside the helmet. His throat was dry, the helmet’s drinking water tanks was empty, he hadn’t thought he would need water for what he had expected would be a short time outside. He had the rifle on his side, they had the numbers on their side, he didn’t know who had the advantage. Whoever they were, they were smart, doubling back over their tracks so he couldn’t trust their footprints to track them. With that hologram they had, he couldn’t completely trust his eyes, either. Then he smiled slyly. One thing he had learned was to recognize the hologram, there was a red stripe on the helmet of that one. Next time, as soon as he saw the hologram, he would spin around and blast whatever smart guy thought he was going to hit Mac with a rock from behind. Mac was no dummy. That’s what Mac always said. And Mac was always right, according to Mac.
The trail led between two large boulders. A likely place for an ambush, Mac knew to avoid it. If he could have gone around, he would have. That would mean climbing over and around a pile of smaller boulders on each side, which would mean slinging his rifle over his shoulder. Not happening. He would go straight through and let his gun clear the way. He waited just before the twin boulders, looking for telltale dust clouds from footsteps
. Nothing. This was all taking way too damned long. He should have been back inside the mining camp, quenching his thirst with the miners’ surprisingly large supply of liquor, not out on the surface of this dust-filled rock. With a shout no one else could hear, Mac leaped through the opening between the twin boulders, firing shots to the left and right. Rock chips and dust obscured his vision momentarily, then he stood still, breathing heavily. Nothing. No one was there, no one had been there. Damn. He’d just wasted ammo. He glanced down at the readout on top of the rifle, seven rounds left out of thirty. There was a spare clip on his belt-
Mac experienced a moment of panic. Was the spare ammo clip on his belt inside the suit? He dropped his left hand from the rifle and groped the environment suit’s toolbelt. Ah, there it was, right where he now remembered putting it on the toolbelt. Should he switch the clip now? It would leave him with only one shot for a brief time, he-
A man stepped out from behind a boulder in front of him, holding a large rock over his head in one hand. Mac raised the rifle, finger ready on the trigger, seeing the red stripe on the helmet, and the man... flickered. Their hologram must be running out of power, it couldn’t hold the image! Mac half-smiled and spun around, trigger pulled halfway.
Rick, who had been standing behind the hologram this time, leaped forward, a rock held over his head tightly with both hands, and smashed it into Mac right where the helmet met the man's right shoulder. Mac dropped the rifle and went down, Rick fell on top of him, joined by Sam. The three rolled around in the dust, struggling, until they felt the ground shake. Nelson had picked up the rifle and fired a single shot into the soil next to the pirate’s head. Nelson pointed the rifle at Mac's face, who let go of Rick and held his hands in the air.
“Rick, good job! Sam, he’s got a spare clip of ammo on his belt, get it. And grab that spool of line, tie his arms behind his back.” Sam did both quickly, then turned Mac on his back, and stood over him.
Nelson bent over to look Mac in the eyes. “Are there any more bad guys in the mining camp, or is it just you?”
Mac, sullen, glared back at Nelson. He kept his radio off and mouthed a curse.
“Oh, wise guy, huh? Radio broken? Well, if you can’t provide any information, you’re not any use to us. And I’m not wasting my time dragging you back.” Nelson pressed the rifle into Mac’s chest and thumbed the safety off. “Stand back, guys, these are explosive darts. We don't want to get splattered.”
“I can talk! I can talk!” Mac shouted into the suit radio.
Nelson kept the rifle jammed into Mac’s chest, bearing down so the man on the ground could feel the barrel poking into the suit. “Then talk. How many more of you here on the ground?”
“Five. There’s five others, two are out hunting you, in another direction. But I called them, and they’re on their way.” Mac said, taunting. These were freighter crewmen, not tough outlaws like himself. His best chance was to keep them scared, keep them off balance.
“Five, huh? I believe you,” Nelson said with a smile, “you are proving to be useful. Tell you what, though, I’ll make you a deal. You be straight with us, I’ll let you live. If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll blow your brains all over this rock.”
“You? You guys won’t kill me, you haven’t got the guts. You’re cargo handlers.” Mac spat out with a sneer.
Nelson shrugged, lifted the rifle, and turned to Rick. “Your turn, professor.”
Rick had never been more angry in his life. He stomped his left foot down on Mac’s neck, hard. “Listen to me, you piece of crap.” He said quietly through clenched teeth. “My family is up there, and I don’t know if they’re alive or not. The only witnesses down here are three people you already tried to kill twice. I am through playing games with you.” Rick reached into his toolkit bag, pulled out a knife, and quickly sliced through the fabric of Mac’s suit, making a hole just below where the helmet connected. Air rushed out, and Mac shouted and thrashed around, his face barely visible in the fogging helmet visor. Rick could barely see Mac’s eyes bulging and his skin turning blue, the man's lips purple.
“Damn, man.” Sam exclaimed, looking at Rick in surprise, then Sam knelt down and held onto Mac’s legs to keep him still. Nelson just looked grim and kept the rifle pointed at the pirate.
“I’ll tell you-“ Mac coughed and gasped, “I’ll telllll...” he couldn’t fill his lungs with enough air to speak.
“More lies? I’m not listening.” Rick said loudly.
The pirate gave one last feeble heave to break himself free, then he flopped down on the dusty ground, unconscious. Rick took his boot off Mac’s neck, pulled out a patch, and slapped it on the hole he had cut. The patch bubbled and sealed, just to be sure, Rick slapped a second patch on top of it. Mac’s helmet visor began to clear, and his suit ballooned outward as it refilled with air.
Sam stood up, wiping his hands on the legs of his suit to remove the red dust. “Professor, man, remind me not to mess with you, like, ever.”
“He’ll be all right, I wanted to put a good scare into him, that’s all. He’ll wake up in a minute.” Rick explained. It scared him to think of whether he would have really killed the pirate. If Rick learned his family was dead, would he kill? He didn’t know. The rules of civilization didn’t seem to apply anymore. Not out here, so far from Earth. Not on Ares. Not now.
“Sam, before sleeping beauty here wakes up, check his suit, see if he’s got any weapons, or anything useful.” Nelson said, as he replaced the nearly depleted ammo clip with the fresh one.
Sam made a thorough search of the pirate’s suit, finding nothing useful. By the time he was done, Mac was awake, and breathing in dry, hacking gasps.
Rick tapped Mac’s visor with the blade of his knife. “Hey, wake up! You listening to me? Good. That was to give you a little taste of what’s coming to you, if we decide you’re no longer useful. Next time, I’m going to take you out of that suit, and push you out an airlock. Sam, what do you think, he’d suffocate first, as his lungs burst and filled up with blood?” Rick asked.
Sam waved his hand scoffingly, playing along. “Nah, man, the atmosphere on this rock is so thin, that first his eyeballs will freeze and pop like an overripe tomato, then all the blood vessels under his skin will boil and explode. After that, his lungs, yeah, they’ll freeze and burst. Nasty, man, bad way to go. Tell you what, though, I wanna watch if you do it.” Sam grinned fiercely at the pirate.
“You wouldn’t... you wouldn’t-“ Mac gasped.
Rick knelt down, pressed his helmet visor against Mac’s, and stared at the other man. “Look at me. Look at me! Look in my eyes. Look in my eyes." Rick said, very slowly, through clenched teeth. "My wife and my children are up there. You think I won’t kill you right here?”
Mac’s eyes weren’t yet focusing properly, but he could see the man the others called the ‘professor’ well enough. Mac knew that look he saw on Rick’s face, he had seen it before. And it terrified him. The professor was desperate. Determined. Out of control. Not a man to be messed with. Mac realized he was lucky to be alive. The professor would not kill in cold blood, he was not like Mac, but he was more dangerous than a man like Mac. He was unpredictable. Mac knew he was in extreme danger. “I didn’t know your family was on that ship.” Mac said, with what sounded like genuine regret. "We didn't know there were any passengers."
“You didn’t ask because you didn’t care." Rick continued staring straight into Mac's eyes. "I’m going to ask you one last time; are you alone down here? You lie, you die.”
Mac nodded vigorously. “Yes, just me. We took over the camp, locked the miners in three of the buildings, then the others flew back up to the ship. My job here was to make sure the miners stayed locked up, and to man the radio. That was me on the distress call. Hey, professor, for what it’s worth, last I heard, your kids are okay, their part of the ship wasn’t damaged. I heard your daughter on the radio.” Mac didn’t add that he had heard Kaylee through a relay from the Nightengale, and
that the children were being chased by the other pirates.
Hearing that his family, his children at least, were alive caused Rick to slump slightly with relief. He stood up, realized he still had the knife in his hand, and sheathed it. “Why? Why attack the ship? Why all this?”
Mac shrugged. “All I know is we’re being paid to steal something off the ship, I don’t know what it is, only our boss knows. The plan was to disable the ship, steal the whatsis, and get out of here before the Navy figures out we hoodwinked them. Quick, easy, nobody has to get hurt, huh? That Navy frigate is searching for a ship that doesn’t exist, a long way from here. I wouldn’t count on them for help any time soon.”
“Disable the ship, and kill anybody who gets in the way?” Nelson said.
Mac shrugged again. “It’s just business.” He said, as if that explained everything. Now that he could breathe again, he was getting his confidence back, thinking ahead. Valjean wouldn’t want to leave Mac behind to be captured by the Navy, because Mac would talk, and Valjean would be a hunted man on any human-occupied planet. Theft was one thing, but messing with the Navy? The Navy never forgot something like that. Mac’s best hope was that if Valjean had either of the professor’s children, he could use the child as a hostage to get Mac released. After that, Mac didn’t care what Valjean did with the children, the three men here on the planet with him, or anyone else. Look out for Number One, was Mac’s motto, and Mac himself was always Numero Uno. “Hey, I gotta know. How’d you do that? With the hologram. You fooled me, and that ain't easy.”
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