Garner didn't answer. He had done what he had to do, and was currently more interested in survival, in any case.
“You think if we wait here long enough, they'll give up?” Adam asked. This earned a dark look from his team mates.
Jaden held up a hand. “All right. Garner, you got us into this mess. You and Fault provide us cover while we make our way deeper into the brush. We're headed back to the Banshees.”
“Why me?” asked Fault.
“You fired, too. Next time maybe you'll think twice about letting fly a few lasers when there are unprotected friendlies around.”
“We're not going to just leave them there!” Garner said.
“We have no choice. Again, if we shoot, we run the risk of hitting a friendly target. And in case you hadn't noticed, we're outnumbered. What we need to do now is get the alien transmission back to the Takarabune.”
“We don't even know where they're taking them.”
“Nowhere good,” Adam said.
“You've got your orders, Vasilescu. Cover. Now. And aim high.”
The enemy fire had diminished while they talked. He poked his head above the stone as Fault traded places with Adam, and the others prepared to dog it out of there. The instant his eyes rose into view, the laser fire increased, forcing him to take cover again; but he had seen that most of the aliens and their captives had already disappeared into the brush. Only a few Snappers remained to keep the Star Force soldiers busy.
As soon as the enemy fire subsided somewhat, Garner and Fault attacked, distracting the Turtles while the rest of their team made their way through the brush, back the way they had come. Garner nailed one of the bastards, while Fault took out two, leaving three remaining. Those three began heading out of sight, firing now and then but not really putting their all into it. In a second, they had vanished into the green.
“They must be headed back to their ship,” Garner said. They'd have to have come in a shuttle; nothing smaller than a cargo vehicle would carry all those prisoners. “Maybe we can catch them in our Banshees.” He got up to follow Jaden and Adam.
Fault also rose. “Can't. I'm Bingo.”
In other words, his fighter only had enough fuel to make it back to the Takarabune. Garner thought he might be Bingo, too–or slightly less. The rest of the team probably fared the same.
He was willing to risk it, but what would he do if he did catch up to the alien transport? He couldn't shoot them down, not with all those humans on board. The best he could do would be to trail them to their mothership. And then what?
He went after Fault, feeling empty and alone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Just outside Mars's atmosphere
The alien warship had limped away at last, wounded; and the Takarabune, also wounded and still recovering survivors on Enas, had not gone after it. By now most of the Abraham Lincoln's crew—those who had lived and had not been taken prisoner—had been brought from the planet and from the doomed Abraham Lincoln to the Takarabune and the small assortment of other warships which had arrived to help care for them. Currently, all available medical personnel were seeing to the survivors, who would eventually get reassigned to another ship or, if need be, to a ground position until space on one of the remaining warships became ready.
While the medics tended the human wounded, the mechanics and computer technicians worked to repair the damages to the Takarabune and her fighters. Fault spent a couple of hours perched atop his own fighter, boots on the wing, backside on the edge of the cockpit, observing the flight crew as they moved around beneath the craft and climbed into the cockpits, trying to fix the Banshees before they were needed again. A lot of the mechanics had been called away to other parts of the Takarabune, but Nuria Gomes, the Takarabune's buxom head mechanic, divided her time between overseeing work in other areas of the ship and looking over her juniors' shoulders in the docking bay. Fault watched her, admiring both her take-charge attitude and her breasts, until she spotted him, spat out a curse, and stomped over.
“What the hell do you think you're doing, soldier?”
“I was just watchin' the mechanics fix—”
“I don't allow anybody in my docking bay who doesn't need to be here.” She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. It kind of ticked him off.
“I wasn't hurtin' nothin'!”
“That goes double for mechs.”
“Fine.” He jumped down and got in her face. “You're a real peach, you know that?”
“I don't wanna see you in here again unless you're up for duty. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.” He stalked off, clueless as to what to do with himself while he awaited further orders. He could visit the rec room, but it had remained crowded ever since the end of the battle; all the uninjured from the Abraham Lincoln had decided to hang out there, and most of the Takarabune's soldiers were taking some well-deserved time off, as well. Maybe he should go for a run, let go of some of his pent-up energy . . .
He was halfway back to his bunk when he bumped into Garner. “Where've you been, Fault? We just got orders to report to the Orientation Room.”
He and Garner hurried off, and managed not to arrive last, but only barely. They each found a seat, and shortly after, Colonel Lange addressed those assembled: “As you all probably know by now, we have recovered an alien corpse on Enas. The body was badly burned, but a forensics team is hard at work analyzing it, and we hope to have some results soon.
“We also have in our possession an enemy fighter—again, badly burned. But we can still learn from it. We've already discovered that the aliens use LOX/LH-2 in their Copperheads instead of the Helium-3 we humans use.”
Fault didn't know too much about rocket fuel, but he did know that LOX/LH-2 was a liquid propellant, while Helium-3 was a gas, and that both enabled the spacecraft's engine to be throttled, stopped, and restarted through controlling the flow of the propellant to the combustion chamber. He also knew that LOX/LH-2, a mixture of liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen, had been abandoned by Earth and her Colonies because of its high toxicity; apparently, it either wasn't as toxic to the aliens, or they had better ways of handling it. Or maybe they just didn't care.
LOX/LH-2 was also cryogenic, meaning it had to be stored at extremely low temperatures. Because of that, it was hard to store over long periods, and therefore less desirable for vehicles that had to be in space for months or more at a time, which was one reason humans didn't use it anymore. Another reason was liquid hydrogen's low density, which required a much larger storage volume than that of other fuels.
On the other hand, liquid hydrogen delivered a specific impulse around thirty to forty percent higher than most other rocket fuels, so it was damn efficient—if storability and reaction time weren't too critical an issue, it might be worth the trouble. Maybe the Turtles' warships were so big in part because they had to be . . . And the fuel's high impulse could be why the Copperheads flew so fucking fast. Still, the reaction time had to be a problem, unless the aliens had found a way around that.
“We're also learning how the aliens configure their fighters, and why,” Lange said. “When we know how they think, we'll know how they act and react. And when we know that, we can defeat them.” He paced a moment, preparing his next words. “You may also be aware that a recorded transmission was recovered from the downed Copperhead. We have translated this message. It details a plan to release another transmission, one which the aliens hope we will be able to translate. The planted transmission will say that the enemy plans to attack Regem, but in fact, they are going to attack Earth. It also pinpoints where the enemy ships will emerge in Earth's solar system.
“The aliens don't know that we've already translated their language. They don't know we recovered this transmission. The six Colonies are even now in the process of evacuating Earth and transporting her people to Colonial worlds.
“We will have warships waiting to ambush the Turtles as soon as they arrive in the solar system. This is our chance to bi
te back.” He said this last through gritted teeth, and Fault could fairly feel the anger emanating off him. It was an anger they all shared. No one could think of a sane reason why the Snappers had attacked Lotan in the first place, or why they continued to advance—but they all agreed the aliens would end up damn sorry they'd ever fucked with humans.
“Get as much R & R as you can,” Lange said. “That's an order. The attack will commence in one hour after we receive the transmission.”
* * *
Somehow somebody managed to put together a party of sorts: Lange strictly limited the amount of alcohol being served because they all needed to be in prime condition for the fight ahead, but there was some beer, and someone smuggled in a bit of what was reportedly white rum but which tasted to Fault like turpentine. The mess prepared some snacks—mostly crackers, cheese, and peanut butter, but there was some fruit, too, and raw vegetables with a Ranch dip. Fault wondered where they'd been hiding it all; he'd never had anything like that on the Mare Cognitum, and it was far from standard fare on the Takarabune, too. Probably it was usually reserved for the upper echelon.
Fault took another sip of the turpentine, hoping he'd get used to the taste, and shuddered as it burned its way down. Somebody had loaned their digital media player out for the occasion, and a succession of upbeat, pulse-pounding songs echoed their way around the room. Fault liked it, although he didn't know any of the artists; he didn't own a DMP himself, and the ones in the rec room were routinely snatched up before anything else. Mostly, he didn't care. He'd rather be moving than sitting still listening to music.
He grabbed a fistful of strawberries off the platter where they'd been arranged in a series of concentric circles, and popped one in his mouth. Sweet and flavorful, it knocked out some of the turpentine taste. But not much.
“Hey!” a cook said. “Only one strawberry per person. They ain't exactly easy to come by, you know.”
Fault narrowed his eyes at the man, stuffed another berry into his mouth, and wandered off so the guy wouldn't pester him while he was eating. Juice trickled down his chin, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. He didn't like parties—the food was better than usual, and there was always hooch, but no one ever talked to him. In battle, everybody depended on everybody else, and you knew where you stood, but in normal situations, he could never get his bearings.
He found a bulkhead to lean against, sipped his rum, and waited for the call to action.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Just outside Mars's atmosphere
Garner's drink didn't do much to generate a buzz, but he liked it all the same. An entire year, ship time, had passed since last he had drunk alcohol, and then it had been the cheapest wine he and An could get their hands on, mainly because they hadn't had much real money to spend on it, and also because they wanted to go low-cost so that they lost less if it got confiscated.
But this stuff . . . This stuff was pretty good. He wanted more of it, but Colonel Lange had hawk eyes on everybody, and he had just about reached his allowance.
“I can't get enough of these strawberries,” Jaden said. She put the tip of one in her mouth and sucked. It was the single most erotic thing Garner had ever seen. He looked away, thinking of how jealous Ilana would be if she ever knew.
He wondered how Ilana fared today, if she were in pain. If she was lonely. If she thought of him at all.
“Not so great with the beer, though.”
“What?”
“The strawberries. They'd go better with wine. But the beer is good anyway. Too bad there's a limit.” She took another bite, forcing him to avert his gaze. He told himself it was just because
Ilana had taken to freezing him out lately, that he hadn't had sex in a while. And there wasn't a lot of
privacy in a room with three other bunkmates, so he couldn't exactly self-serve. Not that that ever stopped Adam.
He was starving. That was all it was, he thought.
But he wasn't sure. He shifted uncomfortably. “I thought we were only allowed one strawberry each.”
A mischievous smile curled her full lips. “I sneaked an extra while the cook wasn't looking. Want a bite?”
He had a sudden and desperate urge to stick his tongue in her mouth. “No, thanks.”
She shrugged. “Your loss.”
He busied himself with people watching and sipping the last of his beer. It had gone warm, but he didn't mind. Somebody had switched the music on the DMP to slow, romantic drivel, the kind of tunes Ilana liked.
“God, I hate this kind of music,” Jaden said. “It's so sappy. I mean, Somebody musta killed me/Cause I died and went to Heaven in your arms. How stupid is that? Who talks like that?”
He had to laugh at her expression, but stopped as Ness approached, drink in hand. “You two look like you have a secret.”
“There are no secrets in the 15th,” Jaden said. But, much to his frustration, Garner found himself blushing and trying his best not to think of Jaden naked. Ness, being Ness, noticed immediately.
“Garner has a secret.” She played with the zipper of his flight suit. “What is it, Garner? Is it about Ilana?”
“Knock it off, Ness.”
“Too embarrassed to tell your big sister? That's okay. I have a secret, too. Bet you can't guess.”
“What?” asked Jaden. She had finished her strawberries and stood with her arms crossed, her posture wary. She didn't care for Ness, and Ness knew it.
“What's the magic word?”
“Either tell us or leave,” Garner said. “We're not in the mood for your games.”
“Spoilsports.” Ness looked around, then drew closer, hiding her body with Garner's tall frame. She unzipped her flight suit and removed a small bottle. “White rum,” she said, and poured a finger's width of it into Garner's beer. “It'll make your brain explode.” She gave Jaden a bit, too, then stashed the bottle back in her suit and zipped up.
Garner took a cautious sip. “Oh, my god!”
Jaden had taken a larger swallow. She scrunched her face up as if in agony and shuddered violently. “That's the worst thing I've ever tasted!”
Ness chuckled. “Don't tell your boyfriend that.”
“Did you just give us paint thinner?” Garner asked. He wanted to rinse his mouth out.
“That's the way white rum is supposed to taste.” Ness took a generous gulp of her own drink, winced, and smiled. “You get used to it.”
“I don't want to get used to it.” He saw Jaden taking another hesitant sip. “Are you crazy? That stuff will burn your insides out!”
She swallowed with a heroic effort. “It really doesn't taste quite as bad the second time.”
“Then why do you look like you're in pain?” But he took another sip, too. He was sorry for it, though, and spat it back into the glass.
Ness shook her head. “You're a miserably inadequate excuse for a brother.”
She said it as a joke, but sometimes he wondered if she really felt that way. He sucked it up and took the rest of his drink in one foul gulp.
“Ha! That's the spirit!” She clapped him hard on the back and winked at Jaden. She squirmed into place between the two of them and put an arm around each of their shoulders.
“ 'Spirit.' Get it?”
“You're drunk,” Jaden said.
“Not quite. But getting there.” Ness took her last swig and didn't so much as grimace. She gazed at Jaden for a moment, so long that for a second there Garner thought she might kiss her. “I like you, Jaden. Even though you don't like me.”
“I like you.”
“No, you don't. I'm hard and bitter. Nobody likes me. But I get the job done, and I make sure everyone around me does the same. So I survive. I used to live. Now I survive.”
She looked away, staring at some distant time, some other, more innocent version of herself. Jaden caught Garner's eye and raised her eyebrows: What now? Garner shook his head. The three of them fell silent for a bit, Jaden tasting her rum now and then but never seem
ing to get used to it. Garner's eyes wandered to where Adam stood with Lanei, Adam with one arm against the wall, leaning a little too close to the woman of his dreams, who resembled a trapped animal.
“What I think,” Adam said, “is that you and me, we were meant to be together. Like–like cardinals. They mate for life. You like mating, right?”
“Excuse me?”
“And, I mean, I suck at kissing, but I think that's okay, because maybe sucking is something you like, am I right?”
She threw her drink in his face and stalked off.
“Ouch,” said Garner.
“He had it coming,” Ness said.
“He can't help himself,” said Jaden. “He just says the first thing that pops into his head. And unfortunately, some pretty perverse stuff pops into his head. It's like a Tourette's thing or something. He gets really nervous, and he just . . . He can't help it.”
“He looks like he could use a friend right now,” said Garner.
“So does he.” Jaden gestured to Fault, who stood alone. “Maybe we should include them both. Make them feel like they're not in it by themselves.”
“Fault is in it by himself,” Ness said. “He wants it that way. He's a mech. He doesn't care about anybody. They're two-faced liars and murderers.”
“Not all of them.”
“All of them.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I wouldn't trust a mech as far as I could hold my breath in space. Go ahead and try to get close to him. He'll hurt you in the end.”
Garner shook his head. “Fault's different.”
“Why? Because the brass let him into your squadron?” Ness pointed to the scar that spoiled her beautiful face, a jagged red mark that travelled from her temple to her chin. “Mechs gave me this. And this.” She undid her flight suit and yanked up her shirt, revealing a ghastly cicatrix that ran across her midsection, a wide, uneven, ugly discoloration. “Every time I bathe, every time I change clothes, I see what they did to me. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces, I see that severed piece of bulkhead coming right at me.
Colonies Of Earth: Unity War Book 1 Page 8