by TJ Ryan
What would the Engineer say then? Sorry I let the Earth get conquered by an alien race but I really, really needed sex and the Engineer in the Pod next to mine was offering, so…
No. That would not fly. Besides, she had her own way of working out sexual tensions.
For now, she was more concerned with learning everything she could about the race that had been attacking the planet when she arrived. Their strengths. Their weaknesses. Their name, for that matter.
Tyrese had slip-logged the information to her when she asked. With a coy little hook to his voice he’d told her that there was other things they could share by datapad. She told him she might take him up on that. Sometime. Not now.
She was going to be here for three years. That was the duty rotation for a Defense Engineer. It was all the time that a human could stand, alone and always on alert, before their brains started shutting down and doing strange things. Hallucinations were recorded in the early days of the Engineers when they used to be stationed here at Earth for ten years at a time. Hallucinations, and sudden aggression, and in a few cases complete mental breakdown. After that, the Academy had decided three years at a time would be plenty.
Flopping down on her bed now, the hard foam mattress molding to her body’s contours after a moment, she flipped through the information on the alien attackers. Oog. Aggressive, locust-like species. Funny, how humans always associated their knowledge of other species to animals and insects they were familiar with. There was a race of sentient slime creatures on Trillithi Seven, she knew, and the data files described them as “slug-like.”
Anyway. The Oog. Aggressive. Technologically advanced, but not to the level of humans. Well that part was obvious. During the battle they hadn’t even ionized their ships or used any form of shield technology at all. Their lasers had punched a hole through one of the stabilizer fins on her Pod, but Aiden had already sent out the droid crawlers to repair it. Those little swarming robots were like an extension of his AI program. Anything he wanted them to do, they did it.
She went through a few more screens of information, learning about Oog biology and Oog culture and specs on Oog battleships. What was missing from the files was why this species wanted to claim the Earth, when they knew it was so well defended.
There had to be a reason. Didn’t there?
Next to her bed, from inside the wall, a chime sounded to let her know she had an incoming call. It surprised her because she wasn’t expecting to have contact with the Engineers until later today when they all did a group inter-Pod conference to discuss the battle and their current situation.
Tara pushed herself up to a sitting position, legs crossed up to her chest. “Answer,” she said, and a small square of wall panel slid aside to reveal the Comm unit. There was a video screen, as well as the usual frequency controls and speaker, but the screen stayed dark. Rule number one of the Engineers was never let Earth fall into the hands of an alien species. The second rule was that Engineers never saw each other. Voice communication only. It was supposed to make it easier if any of them died. Easier to forget a voice than it was a face.
“Hey,” that same familiar voice said, bright and cheery. “2-7-7. Glad to see you made it through your first day.”
Somehow, this guy made her smile. Maybe it was just because, like he said, she had made it through her first day without dying, but Tyrese made her feel glad to be alive. “It was a close thing there for a while. The baggers put a hole through my ship.”
“Whoa there, 2-7-7,” he chuckled. “Watch the language. Although you’re right. These damned aliens really are baggers. Sucking baggers, if you ask me.”
She felt her cheeks heating up with his teasing as she laughed with him. “And you’re telling me to watch my language?”
“Heh. Yeah. Hey, you mind if I call you Tara?”
“I’d prefer that to being called a number, yes.” She checked the chronometer on her wrist monitor. Another hour before a scheduled meal, three hours before the group inter-Pod call. She had lots of time to talk with Tyrese. “What’s a girl got to do to get some respect around here anyway?”
“Don’t think you’ll have a problem with that,” he told her. In the background there was a whirring electronic sound, something working very hard to do…whatever was happening on his ship. “The Academy’s really teaching you guys how to bring it. I went through ten years ago. Different time back then. Anyway. I guess you’re stuck with me for a while. Figured we could get to know each other.”
“Wait, what? Stuck with you?”
He cleared his throat. Tara really wished she could see his expression. “See,” he said, “I was supposed to ship back to the Colony today. My tour was up. Thing is, three of us Engineers got sent to vacuum yesterday. Three of us dead means no one goes home until more replacements show up.”
“Three… dead?” Get a grip, she told herself. You went through this in the sims. Engineers die sometimes. Either from attack, or malfunction, or…or freak meteorite storm. It happened. Even while she kept saying that to herself, her hands started to shake. She drew her knees up to her chest, and took a moment to get ahold of herself. “Do we usually lose that many in an attack?”
“No.” The tone of his voice had changed. Calm and reassuring, Tyrese was trying to make her feel better. “Usually we come through with no problems. A few of those Oog ships had actual missile armament though, and…well. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not a baby,” she snapped, embarrassed that she had been so afraid of something that was just part of her job. Engineers died. She might die, for that matter. The next one might be her.
The universe tilted around her and for a moment she thought the ship had lost a stabilizer. She put her hand out to the padded wall panels to settle herself, and then she realized. It wasn’t the ship. It was her. She really was scared.
“I’m signing off,” she told him. This was nuts. She was an Engineer. She was smart, and well-trained, and she could damn well take care of herself.
“Hey, wait a minute Tara. I didn’t mean anything—”
“Out,” she snapped at him. Then she switched the Comm panel off completely so he couldn’t try to contact her again. At least, not for now.
Shoving herself out of bed she stormed out of her bedroom and down the hall to the rec room. The space was designed for one person just like every other area of the ship. There was a vid-game system that had the most boring games Tara had ever seen in her life. Virtual chess and Blank The Star were not her idea of fun. She got more use out of the exercise unit taking up the entire back corner. That’s where she went now.
The hand weights fit easily into her palms, held by elastic straps around the back of her hands, and she twisted the dials on each one to match fifteen kilos. Legs braced wide, she alternated reaching each hand down to her opposite foot and then up again, over and over, until she lost count of how many reps she’d done. Then she pushed both hands up high over her head and down to her chest. Up. Down. Up. Down.
Engineers die every day.
Reach left. Reach right. Again. Again.
It’s a hazard of the job. She knew that when she joined.
Hands together, hands apart. Hands together…
But it had never been real before.
Hands apart.
Tara had just been in her first real space battle for the fate of Earth, and she’d survived.
Her arms were aching now. Her back screamed at her. All this exercise was intoxicating. It revved up her brain and sent blood rushing through her body and she wanted to keep going until she dropped, but she knew she had to stay alert, in case there was another attack.
Because there would be another attack. Any time now. Any hour, maybe.
When it came, Tara would be ready. She set her jaw and stripped off the hand weights, throwing each one against the wall padding, tearing a chunk out of one.
“You won’t get me,” she screamed at the whole entire universe. “You hear me, you sucking baggers? Y
ou won’t get me!’
Spent, breathing heavy and wet with perspiration, she stalked down the hallway to the side chamber that had the sonic shower. She felt better. She felt alive.
She felt like calling Tyrese back and maybe talking some more. She felt like taking on every single alien species out there by herself.
This was how Engineers faced the world.
In the shower room—a tight space as long as she was tall—she stripped out of her jumpsuit and dropped it to the floor. She’d pick it up later, but for just a moment she stood there, naked, eyes closed, reminding herself that she was here. She was in orbit around Earth and there was nothing that was going to stop her from being the greatest Defense Engineer that ever lived. She took a breath of the recycled air, filling her lungs with it, expanding her chest, realizing that she was still keyed up from her intense workout—
“Engineer Royce?”
Aiden’s soft voice washed over her, reminding her that she wasn’t exactly alone.
“Yes, I’m here.” She stepped into the cylindrical chamber of the sonic shower, sliding the rounded door closed behind her and resting her ass back against the glass before setting the dials for a deep cleansing.
“I know you’re here,” Aiden answered. “There is a message for you from the Academy.”
“I’m in the shower, Aiden.”
The sub-acoustic waves hit her all over and made every inch of her vibrate and tingle. Ah. So good.
“I know you’re in the shower, Engineer Royce.”
Her hands slid down her sides, to her hips. “So…you’re watching me, Aiden?”
“Always,” his husky voice replied.
She breathed out a laugh. “Even when I do this?”
With her hands, and the vibrations, she enjoyed her shower thoroughly, taking her time and doing it right.
“I’m always watching you,” Aiden said to her after a long moment. “Always.”
CHAPTER THREE
The message from the Academy was a recording. A Tier Sergeant’s face stared back at her. One she knew very, very well. She couldn’t interact with the message, just listen. The lag across that much space would be too much for real communication. She’d be sitting here for half an hour waiting for a single answer to a question.
In her command chair on the bridge, she keyed in her personal access code before Aiden allowed access to the transmission.
“When you play this,” Tier Sergeant Borden said when she activated the message, “you’ll already be in Earth orbit. I hope your arrival was uneventful.”
Tara snorted. “Wait till you get the report, Sarge.”
“Well. You’ll see some action there, I’m sure.”
Sergeant Borden was a broad man, with muscles stacked on top of muscles under a uniform shirt that he pressed every day. Tara had been afraid of the man when she was learning close-fighting techniques from him. Now, a few dozen lightyears away from him…she was still afraid of him.
Now, his image looked uncomfortable as he put a heavy hand up to his face, and coughed. “There’s no easy way to ease into this. You were always one of my brightest students, Tara. I always knew we could expect big things from you.”
“Oh really?” she snarked. “I seem to remember you making me scour out combustion intakes on the simulator Pods. With a toothbrush. Twice.”
Suddenly the image paused. Sergeant Borden was frozen with a finger jabbing the air.
“Aiden?” she asked. “What’s wrong with the transmission?”
“I was waiting,” Aiden explained, “until you were done with your comments.”
“Are you serious?” She flicked a few switches, taking control of the message away from the AI program. “Listen. Just because I let you watch me in the shower doesn’t mean you get to run my life.”
“You don’t let me watch you,” Aiden said. “I am always watching.”
She rolled her eyes. “Men.”
The message started again, mid-word.
“—sent you there not just because you were the right choice. We have a mission for you. This is a top priority. Once this transmission ends I expect daily reports on your progress.”
Tara sat up straighter. What was this all about?
“You cannot, and I’m going to stress this again, you cannot let the other Defense Engineers know what you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing?” she repeated. “You haven’t told me what I’m doing yet.”
“What follows is a representative model of your position in orbit.” Sergeant Borden’s image evaporated to be replaced by a holographic image of a blasted Earth, and the points of light around it that were the Defense Pods. One zoomed closer in the image. 2-7-7 was printed on the side. Her Pod. “We’ve positioned you over the Earth at a very specific location. Below you—”
Now it was the devastated world below that came closer to Tara’s vantage point. It all looked like…more black clouds to her, but the overlay was outlined in coordinate lines and vectors and numbers.
“Aiden,” she asked, “are you getting this?”
“Of course.”
“Always there for me, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
That seemed odd, but frankly Aiden was starting to get on her nerves anyway and she was too interested in Sergeant Borden’s message.
“Here,” Borden’s voice said. “At these coordinates. This is where we need you to launch the probe.”
She could not have heard that right. “Probe?”
“Your AI has the information on the device sent with your Defense Pod. At exactly nineteen-thirty hours you’ll have a five minute window when the other Pods will be on trajectories that take them away from you. They won’t see you drop the probe, if you do it at that exact time.”
What probe?
“That’s your mission,” Borden said, matter-of-factly. “You’ll be contacted again in two days. That will be enough time for the probe to complete its mission and return tomorrow—I mean, tomorrow from your perspective—at the same time. That’s the only window of opportunity you’ll have to retrieve the bagging thing, excuse my language, so your Pod won’t be seen collecting it. Now, by this time you’ll be wondering why we’re sending a probe to Earth.”
“Oh? You think?”
The Sergeant couldn’t hear her sarcasm. She figured it was just as well.
“The probe,” Borden continued, “is being sent down to evaluate the carbon content of the soil. From this measurement we can gauge how far our home planet has come back toward being able to sustain life.”
It sounded like a rehearsed speech. Although, Tara had to admit, it made sense. The secrecy from the other Engineers seemed a little over the top but that was the way the Academy did things. They never met an overcomplicated plan that they didn’t like.
“That’s all, Engineer Royce.” The Sergeant nodded, his smaller image looking up into her eyes. “Except for a personal note, I suppose. We’re proud of you here. I’m proud of you.”
For a moment his image just stared out at her, like there was more he wanted to say, but then it faded out, and the transmission was over.
Tara sat in her command chair, staring at the screen, trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened here. She was being assigned a secret mission the day after arriving at her defense post. There had been nothing said about this before she left. Nothing in her classes had said anything about the Earth’s soil being tested for carbon content. Why the secrecy? Why her?
“Aiden, did you know about this?” she asked, raising her voice unnecessarily for the AI program to hear her. “There’s a probe on board…did you know about this?”
“Yes, Engineer Royce. I did. There is no function on board this Pod that I don’t know about.”
“Yeah, you’re great that way.” Reaching over, she slapped the palm of her hand against the console wishing she could slap Aiden’s virtual face. “You’re not so good about letting your one and only crew member know what’s going
on though, are you?”
“I was not allowed to advise you.”
Those words stung. Aiden had become a friend…sort of. Considering he was the only contact she had out here for the entire trip from the Academy, she had started looking at him like he was really here. Really a friend. Now she’d found out her friend had not only been lying to her, but his only excuse was that someone had told him not to tell her.
“You’re a real bastard, Aiden.”
The lights in the control room dimmed, for just a second, and then came back up again.
“Oh,” she said, standing up from the chair and glaring at every single control panel around her. “Did I hurt your feelings? Did I? We’re supposed to be partners, Aiden. You and me. We live in this Pod and we work in this Pod and we do everything together…damn it, I let you watch me shower!”
“I fail to see what that has to do with the probe we must prepare and deploy, per Academy directions.”
Aiden’s calm voice infuriated her, and she slapped at the console again. The only thing it got her was a stinging pain in her palm. “I’m in control of this Pod, Aiden. Not the Academy. Is that clear?”
“No, Engineer Royce. My directive is to follow Academy directions.”
“Aiden, do not make me find your central processor and yank your wires out one at a time!”
“I would not advise that.”
She froze halfway up from her seat. That sounded almost…menacing. At least, as menacing as an artificially created voice could sound menacing. Especially one that permanently sounded like it was trying to invite her to his nice, quiet apartment for a drink.
The room suddenly seemed to get even smaller than it had before. She was alone in a Pod with an AI program. The Academy had given Aiden instructions he was incapable of disobeying. If she stood in the way of those orders…