"You do have a point, Steel. Very definitely a point." She looked at his erection, smiled, shifted position onto her back and captured his hand in hers. She brought it up to her breast, a pointed hint not to waste precious time. And just in case that wasn't explicit enough, once his hand was in the position she wanted, she slid her own downward, obviously intending to emphasize her desire.
Rambling liked what she was doing. In fact, he liked her very much, even though her extreme beauty and voluptuous body had very nearly scared him away from even approaching her. At that, she'd had to practically trip him in order to get him into her bed. He still didn't know exactly what she saw in him. It certainly couldn't be his looks because no one had ever called him handsome or anything even close to it. He did have a good strong body that he kept in shape and a mind such that no one ever called him a dumb marine, so perhaps the combination compensated for his overlarge nose and jug ears. Whatever, he wasn't about to question her taste, especially not now. They were still learning about each other and enjoying the process.
They had just begun and were in the throes of gentle touching and kissing when Mundahan's com tinkled.
"Damn," she muttered and tapped her wrist after getting it loose. "Mundahan."
"Report to the Control Room, immediately."
"Wonder what that is?" Rambling asked. He sat up.
"Don't know but I gotta git. When the Captain says immediately, that's what he means."
Two minutes later she was gone, leaving him to wonder why she had been alerted and he hadn't. He didn't have to wonder long. His call came a moment later, but he was already dressed by then. He scurried though the passageway his stateroom was located on, up a ladder, and hurried toward the bay where the marines gathered when alerted. It was also the hanger bay where the assault shuttles lived. However, he no sooner arrived there than he was re-directed to the control room to meet with the captain and his officers.
Chapter Ten: Return fire!
Altaira Morbius: Where have you been? I've beamed and beamed.
Robby Robot: Sorry, miss. I was giving myself an oil-job.
Altaira Morbius: Robby, I must have a new dress, right away.
Robby Robot: Again?
Altaira Morbius: Oh, but this one must be different! Absolutely nothing must show - below, above or through.
Robby Robot: Radiation-proof?
Altaira Morbius: No, just eye-proof will do.
Robby Robot: Thick and heavy?
Altaira Morbius: Oh, no, Robby. It must be the loveliest, softest thing you've ever made for me, and fit in all the right places, with lots and lots of star sapphires.
Robby Robot: Star sapphires take a week to crystallize properly. Would diamonds or emeralds do?
Altaira Morbius: Well, if they're large enough.
Robby Robot: Five, ten, and fifteen carats, and on hand. I will run the dress up for you in time for breakfast. Sleep well, miss.
Altaira Morbius: Thank you, Robby. I don't care now whether I do or not!
-Forbidden Planet, 1956
Keane looked around to make sure that all the first shift and department heads had reported to the control room before saying anything. "Folks, we're picking up non-directional broadcasts from this world even while we're still quite a ways out. I'm not sure what to make of them yet. Apparently there's some fighting going on. We caught just the tail end of it before the rotation of the planet cut us off. It's not English we're hearing. We only got bits and pieces but it does sound like human voices, and our computer comparison says it is Chinese.
"There's also some other broadcasts that according to our computer are not, repeat not, human. What we got from both sources sounded like leakage from directional signals. I have a Chinese-speaking specialist who'll be here shortly to help interpret as the planet rotates and we come into range again. We'll see what he makes of the recording."
As if on cue, Petty officer Chen Zhou arrived. "Chen Zhou, reporting for duty sir."
"PO Zhou, come over here, please," Lieutenant Bogarty called to him. "I need you to listen to something."
"Ay, aye, sir."
The petty officer tucked an ear bug into his right ear and listened, an intent expression on his oriental face.
"Play it again, sir, please. The accent is a bit unfamiliar to me. It's Mandarin but sounds as if it's a second language for the one doing most of the talking. Shouting, I should say. He was excited and screaming orders."
He listened again then removed the bug.
"What do you make of it, son?" Keane asked.
"Uh, it's hard to say for sure, sir. I could hear gunshots and cursing. The gist of it is that whoever is commanding is very unhappy with what's going on. He's complaining of casualties and demanding that a platoon advance and capture a position referred to by a grid coordinate. That's useless to us for now. You must have heard the other part, where it sounds almost like cats and dogs going at it."
"Yes, we did," Keane said with a chuckle. "Take a seat and get some coffee if you like, Zhou. I want you to stick around. Bog, fix up a feed to him so he can listen and make notes for us."
Bogarty placed the Chinese petty officer in an empty alcove, furnished him with coffee and a keyboard tablet, then left him and returned to his station.
"Turn the volume up loud enough for all of us to hear when the rotation puts us in range again, Bog," Keane ordered. It would save time later, he thought.
"It's almost time now, sir."
Over the next several hours, when the ship was closer to the planet and after its rotation brought the broadcasts back into line, the situation became somewhat clearer. A Chinese ship had either landed or been shot down, and troops from it were attempting to repulse alien attackers. It didn't sound as if they were having much success.
"Sir, I've spotted their ship," Lt. Chavez said. She was operating the light telescope since she was better at it than Commander Manheimer, who was more of an astrogator than astronomer. "It's hard to tell much from this distance but it looks as if it's been heavily damaged. Funny, the directional indicators aren't lining up with it, though. I guess they must have left it when it was grounded."
"Anything else?"
" Eve is pulling together an enhanced picture of the areas, sir. It's coming clear now. Looks sort of like that Xanadu place but not much of it actually built yet. It has the same circular layout of about the same size but there's only one central spire. It's like ...like maybe a colony of Xanadu?"
"Most analysts think Xanadu is a colony," Dunaway said.
"We're coming in pretty close sir," Manheimer noted. "Do you want to go into orbit or stay clear?"
"Stay clear until we sort this out," Keane ordered emphatically. "Put us in a geosynchronous orbit over the alien settlement while we analyze the situation." He didn't intend to have his ship shot down and wasn't so anxious to help the Chinese that he was willing to risk it, not until he knew more. "And have Eve do a comparison match of this settlement to the Xanadu records." Eve was the name given to the ship's central computer. When it responded verbally it did so with a low, sultry, feminine tone.
Over the next several hours, the Chinese broadcasts became fewer and more frantic and finally ceased altogether. From their orbit it was possible to see heated explosions occurring at intervals through the powerful telescope. Some were determined to be chemical eruptions of known constituents but others were more akin to their own plasma pulser.
"Sir, I've spotted a second ship!" Chavez called out excitedly.
"What?!" Keane asked.
"A second ship, sir. It looks as if there may have been an attempt at camouflage, or perhaps it's simply been overgrown with vegetation, but it's definitely one of ours. A Wannstead type, I should say."
"That doesn't sound as if they came in together, does it?" Dunaway said. He was seated to the right of Keane. Both were looking at the big overhead 3D screen where the telescopic sightings were being projected. As he spoke, Chavez dropped an icon over the indifferently covere
d ship. It looked as if it had been damaged as well.
"What's that thin line going from the ship toward the settlement? Is it a road?"
"Looks like it," Chavez replied.
"As if a lot of traffic has been going back and forth from it," Keane said. He rubbed his chin while examining it and the other scenes. He knew he was going to have to make a decision soon on whether to go into a closer orbit around the planet or leave and go on toward Xanadu, the apparent main source of the alien presence in the Bolt Cluster. Xanadu had the advantage of being what they were really after but surely they could examine the aliens and their works on this planet just as well, assuming the Doc Travis could defend itself better than the other two ships had. That there might not be as powerful defenses here as was likely for the huge alien city of Xanadu was another point in favor of landing here. If they could.
"Anita, take us into close orbit, two hundred fifty kilometers," he said, making up his mind. "XO, sound general quarters in a moment. Major Rambling, get back to your marines and have two of your assault shuttles manned and ready. We may need them soon. June, run a weapons check and make sure all your stations are manned and ready. Fred, put us into stealth mode before we begin moving. Questions?"
There were none. The battle stations alarm sounded.
As Doc Travis moved cautiously closer to the planet, Commander Dunaway commented idly, "If nothing else, I think we've just proved there's a Chinese spy pretty high up in our government."
Keane was first startled and then chagrined at his statement. He'd thought of ships from other nations possibly beating them to Xanadu ever since Admiral Mullins had mentioned the possibility of their being responsible for Wannstead's lost ships. But this was far too coincidental. Besides, the Chinese ship had obviously been defeated by a colony that looked to be barely begun. An enemy agent seemed an obvious answer to the Chinese presence here but if so, they had outsmarted themselves. Their ship was destroyed, so he would give no further thought to it. Let the State Department and Homeland Security take up the matter when they returned.
***
"Coming into range for orbital insert, sir," Anita Chavez announced.
"Fred, how's it looking? Are you picking up any search emissions?"
"No, sir. I believe the aliens had been watching us when we were in geo orbit but our EW is pretty good. I think they've lost us now. Don't see any neutrino or wide-band scans coming our way, just a sweep but no lock. There is something else, though. We've detected two areas resembling mining operations and what seems like large transport ships. However, none of them are airborne at the moment. In fact, no mining operations are apparent. It's as if they were shut down the instant we were detected."
"Fine. Helm, go into orbital insert now. Maintain battle stations."
Nothing untoward happened the first time they passed over the alien settlement where the wounded Wannstead ship lay but as they approached on the second orbit, Jergens spoke up.
"Captain, we're being pinged in three different wave lengths. And I think they're locking in on one of them."
"Keep our shields up full. Can our EW phase it out?"
"No, sir. It's like they're trying to sight in on us and ...they're firing!"
Every screen in the control room brightened for a second then turned black for a moment as they dampened to avoid excess radiation.
"Return fire. Pulser and rail gun," Keane said immediately.
Jergens' computer wizardry had automatically tracked the source of the powerful energy beam as the magnetic shield of Doc Travis repulsed it. He doubted if it would have been quite as effective had an alien ship been armed with that type weapon and used it in space without an intervening atmosphere.
Commander Mundahan fired the pumped-up laser cannon, blasting a temporary hole in the planet's atmosphere before pulses of sun-hot plasma automatically ejected from the Doc Travis plasma coil followed lance of energy to the surface. A boiling eruption of orange-white fire blasted debris away from the target area. Simultaneously, a shudder rippled through the ship causing a brief moment of apprehension until those who had forgotten realized it was Doc Travis' rail gun causing the tremor. Even if it the view screen didn't indicate a field to scatter the plasma, hardly anything could stop the simple but deadly rail gun slugs. The source that had fired on the ship was being decimated.
Keane ignored the rumbling rail guns firing in sequence and watched his screen, where the telescopic images were faithfully relaying information. Explosions visible to the naked eye, had anyone been outside the ship to see, blasted the offending site as rail gun slugs exploded on impact, carving a path of destruction through the alien settlement. The atmosphere above it filled with grey dust and burning ashes.
"Cease fire! Fred, are they still pinging?"
"No, sir. I'm getting nothing now."
"Good. We'll be out of range in a couple of minutes."
After two more orbits Keane decided to land but he put the ship down fifty kilometers away from the settlement and sent a single assault shuttle with a full load of marines to investigate. A second shuttle stood by to assist if needed. They had met their first aliens and survived, a much better result than their Chinese counterparts. However, the action had given them a glimpse of what must have happened to the other Wannstead ships. It left a big worry in his mind, though. It was evident that the city below, while not even half finished, still had formidable defenses. How would Doc Travis fare against a fully functional colony? Keane pondered that and knew things would only get tougher on Xanadu. He decided the best course of action would be to get word out to the Santa Cruz and then try obtaining more data from the planet before moving on. Keane hoped they hadn't destroyed too much- he needed more intelligence, or better yet, an alien to interrogate. Which meant it was time for the U.S. Marines.
***
Barbara Zembra snapped the safety harness into place on her shuttle seat while thinking that she finally fully understood the reasons for the prohibition of personal relationships with another in the chain of command. Had either she or Bullet been in that position she knew she would have worried herself sick over him and vice versa. As it was, they each had their own jobs in their own squads and probably wouldn't even notice each other if the assault shuttle ran into a combat situation. They would be too busy for worry. She was already tense as the craft rolled down the ramp from the hanger and into position where its thrusters were pointed away from the mother ship.
She felt her body being shoved back into the seat as the shuttle ignited its main thrusters in a blast of sound and fury as it reached for altitude. It was hardly in the air before it leveled off and picked up speed, staying not many meters above the canopy of the tall thin shafts of green and brown growth. It seemed as if they had hardly gotten started when she was flung against the straps holding her when the shuttle decelerated violently. It thumped to a stop at a slight tilt. She thumbed the harness loose while the shuttle combat covers, two on each side, snapped open and locked into place. Bright sunlight caused her eyes to squint until her combat helmet polarized into acceptable transparency.
"First squad, second squad, up and at 'em," Platoon Sergeant Julio Martinez shouted over the same cry of Jeeta Suharto, his counterpoint in the other platoon. "Third Squad, out and cover."
Like well-oiled machinery, the marines bolted from the shuttle and ranged out toward their objective, the central spire of the alien settlement. Two squads advanced, the third covered the spire, and a heavy weapons squad brought up the rear, ready for instant set-up when and if needed. In the front and top of the shuttle, the heavy weapons were also manned. The pilot and co-pilot stayed in place, ready to move in support if necessary.
Barbara ran through the heavy, knee-high growth that clung to her boots almost like glue as she slogged through them. The moment she heard and saw opposing fire she stopped and searched for targets. Her job at the moment wasn't quite as dangerous as most. She was a sniper. Her heavy caliber rifle would punch holes through a half in
ch of steel from a mile away. She saw an alien as it rose above a covering bundle of construction material and quickly sighted in. The recoil thumped against her shoulder, surprising her as it always did. The alien, a being shaped like a short fat brown caterpillar, flew backward with a hole the size of a saucer near its top end. Green blood, she thought abstractly.
Another Worm came into her sights and fell as quickly as the first but with far more gore. Must've hit something slushy, she told herself aloud. This was her first combat of any kind. She was amazed at how calm she felt. It was almost like training except the opponents had never been big brown caterpillars. Dangerous ones, too, she saw as a fiery streak of ionized air hit near a duo of marines who were running toward new positions. One fell screaming from the impact of a tiny ball of plasma. The other went on and dropped to earth behind a half finished wall.
The marines advanced as slowly or as fast as circumstances dictated, led by their sergeants and directed by the two platoon officers. After the first few clashes with the aliens it became obvious that the marines were vastly superior when it came to ground combat. The "Worms", as they almost automatically began calling them, seemed not to have an idea of how to fight in close quarters. Once their plasma cannons from the central city were taken out, the battle was for all practical purposes over. Which didn't mean there weren't more marines who fell. The Worms were armed with personal weapons which fired small bits of plasma. A hit on the torso of a marine usually meant instant death even through their armor. But if the Worms didn't know how to fight, they also had little notion of how to surrender, either. They had to be dug out of half-finished underground quarters, routed from positions where they had cover, and shot even after they were wounded because likely as not they would fight on until dead.
It was grueling urban combat, the worst kind for infantry but it could have been much worse had the Worms any real notion of what they were facing. Marines were trained for that type of fighting-the Worms were not. The result was never in doubt. It would have been even easier had there not been robots assisting the Worms, two different kinds, a large one almost as big as a Worm and a smaller one only about half the size. The robots were mixed in with the Worms but used the same kind of weapons, something between a handgun and rifle that fired energy bolts.
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