Steel Walls and Dirt Drops

by Black, Alan

  "Come on, Trey. He was riding me from the top."

  "I don't give a rat's ass, Mister Jackson. You had better learn control and discipline. I don't have time to mediate childish disputes, got me?" Misha said with a cold edge in her voice.

  "Yes, sir. Point taken. Sorry," Jackson said.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  "Hey, Deuce Jackson," Trooper Wilderman from Dawg Squad said. "She reamed your butt out good in front of the vacuum-heads."

  "Yeah, so what?" Jackson said. He was seething inside. He didn't like anyone talking to him like he was an idiot. Now this loser Wilderman was getting on his case."

  Wilderman said, "So nothing? You just took it like a little mamma's boy."

  "Shut your hole, Wilderman. I wouldn't take that crap from anybody but McPherson. And do you know why, you puke? I will take it from her because I lost a brother at Guinjundst. McPherson kicked ass at Guinjundst and the next time we drop dirt, we are all going to kick some Binder ass; you included. You understand, or do you want to continue rubbing sandpaper across my bad side today?"

  "Roger that, Mister Jackson. Understood," Wilderman backed away.

  "Listen, pencil dick," Jackson shouted at the retreating trooper. "She could march me naked, painted purple into the high court chambers on Heaven Three and I wouldn't give a damn as long as she leads me to where I can kill them weed-eating sons-of-bitches."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Gan Forrester looked around the APES commander's day office. The front room was furnished as an office with a desk, two straight back chairs and a dataport. There were no pictures or personal items of any kind in sight. The backroom was a bedroom. It had a wall locker and a standard APES bunk with blast shutters. The bathroom had a shower, toilet and sink. It was actually so small that the toilet inset into the shower. A voice behind Forrester startled him.

  "Convenient, isn't it?" McPherson asked. "You can sit while you shower."

  "And spotless, too," he replied. "I didn't hear you come in behind me. I hope you don't mind; I decided to take you up on your offer and move in."

  "Please be my guest or rather the guest of the APES," she said. "I just had it cleaned and sanitized. The last occupant left behind a mess."

  "I hope I won't be putting you out?" Forrester asked.

  Misha shook her head. “I won’t be using this often enough to matter until we drop dirt. Then I expect to be rather busy in here.”

  "Really? You're planning on taking your office with you?"

  "Actually, Gan, you are standing in the middle of our mobile combat command center. Right now, the locks have it clamped to the deck plates, but it is sitting on its own combat skid plate. The whole room drops out of the back end of the Kiirkegaard along with the rest of us and all of our other gear. It is automatically targeted to drop onto our LZ." She tapped her knuckles lightly on the steel walls. "These walls are armored steel, not at all like the composite bulkheads of the spacecraft around us. It is not pretty, but the armor here could hold against a whole squad in APES quality armor. So, it is a good thing you won't be going into the Altec system with us, because I’ll need the room back by then."

  "This is really a nice double function design. I’d like to go on to the Altec System even if it means giving up my private accommodations. Just for a bit of sightseeing, you know. But, the big bosses tell me that I can't go that far," Forrester replied. He thought he might be able to work something out to go on to Altec after he conferred with his contact on Gagarin. He stored that thought away for later. The Binders pulled something new on Guinjundst besides using biological and chemical warfare. Whatever that something was APES command was keeping it very close to their collective chest. The Marshal Service would like to know what it was. Still, if he couldn't get any information from Misha between Heaven and Gagarin, then he wouldn't get much more going on to Altec. His contact on the Kiirkegaard would have to fill him in on what went on in Altec.

  Forrester said, "So, you really are bunking in the squad bay? Doesn't that lack a bit of privacy?"

  “Yep. However, the squad bay gives me more privacy than I had growing up. Sure the APES sleep in the same room, but each bunk has blast shields that work very effectively as privacy screens. The toilet and shower stalls have some exceptionally durable locks. Believe me; nobody sees anything that I don’t want them to see.”

  Forrester smiled. He could imagine what would happen if someone were to try something with this woman. He could see why some men, and women for that matter, would be tempted to try. He admitted that she wasn't the most beautiful woman in the Allied Systems, not in the classical sense of beauty. She exuded a powerful presence, though. Sometimes power offered more attractive appeal than mere physical features. He could see why this woman challenged Britain. Britaine had charm. McPherson had a raw sort of charisma. He said, "Whatever the reason for the offer of the bed, I appreciate it. Lieutenant Holdgren snores loud enough to wake the long deceased, and AMSF bunks don't have those nice blast shutters to cut the noise."

  "Just one tiny little thing, Gan. Keep it clean. The last tenant before me left it in somewhat of a mess."

  Forrester nodded. He had met Third Cans briefly when he came aboard. The man actually asked about a second career with the Marshal Service. He had also heard Misha had sent Trooper Beaudry back three times until he had the room spotless to her criteria.

  McPherson smiled, "Oh, by the way, Gan, the rumors about Britaine and me must be dying down. The rumor is that you took me away from him; that you and I are doing the wild, horizontal hanky-panky."

  "What?! I haven't heard that."

  "What's the matter, Gan," McPherson smiled sweetly, without a touch of sweetness in her eyes. "Not as funny as when you were teasing me about Britaine, is it?"

  "Who the hell would think you’d have anything to do with an old man like me? That's silly."

  "Not as silly as Britaine and me. What's the matter, Gan? Aren't I good enough for you?"

  "Wait. It's not that. It's just that…well…how the hell did that rumor get started anyway? Look, I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't move in here."

  McPherson shrugged. "Nope, go ahead and move in. The damage is done. Besides you might want the privacy for your other girlfriend."

  "Pardon me? What other girlfriend?"

  "Come on, Gan. I am not a Marshal Service investigator like you, but it only took me fifteen minutes to track the rumor back to its source."

  "Wait a minute, Misha. I am not an investigator. I just shuffle data at the headquarters building."

  McPherson just looked at Forrester.

  Forrester cursed himself thinking he must be getting sloppy in his old age. Of course, he knew Misha was not your average knuckle banger. She was much smarter than most people gave her credit for being. That was why his boss had assigned him to contact her. Still, a rumor might bring them closer together; give them the chance to struggle against a common rumor and forge a personal bond. Maybe it would be a good thing. He looked at Misha looking at him.

  "Okay, I am not admitting anything," he said. "I do like a puzzle as much as the next guy. But, Misha I do have to tell you that a rumor might cause me problems."

  "Yes? And rumors have been so good to me so far, is that it?" she asked.

  "No. I’m sorry, that is not what I mean. Look, I’m married. Okay? A wife may not hear everything that goes on in her husband's life, but rumors like this can hurt. So please tell me where this rumor came from?"

  McPherson nodded. "I didn't know you were married. Sorry, I wouldn't have kidded you about it. I tracked it back to your little friend in sickbay. Remember that med-tech Staff Sergeant Jèsusa Rezzi?"

  Forrester sighed in relief. "Okay, that one. Good. I can fix that."

  McPherson smiled, "Well, I’m glad you’re happy. Can you fix the rumor about Britaine and me? As it stands right now, the whole spacecraft, for all I know the entire flight wing, thinks that I’m sleeping with both you and him."

  McPherson’s comm unit
beeped. "Third McPherson here," she said.

  "This is Colonel Britaine. Please meet me in your training bay as quickly as possible, if you please."

  Forrester watched Misha roll her eyes upward. He wondered what Britaine was up to now. At least, he wasn't asking for another private meeting. That might be a good thing. On the other hand, meeting with him in front of other APES might damage her command more than another unsubstantiated rumor.

  She frowned, "On my way, Colonel."

  Forrester asked, "More problems?"

  "I won't know until I get there. Unless you know something you aren't telling me?"

  He laughed, "We don't have time for what I know that I’m not telling you. We will have to meet sometime over dinner and swap secrets. Is that a deal?"

  "Not a chance, Marshal Forrester."

  "Maybe for a little pillow talk after?"

  Misha laughed, "After? No, not after, Gan. Maybe over, as in over my dead body."

  "Now you are talking, girl, at least I have a chance. You let me know where and when."

  "I don't know. Let me check with my calendar and your wife."

  "You sure know how to hurt a fragile ego, don't you? Seriously, I won't move in if you think it is a bad idea."

  "No, Gan. You move in here. Wear it in good health. It’s a bad idea for me not to know where you are. This way, I can keep an eye on you."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Misha stepped into the training bay. She thought she was seeing a replay of the earlier confrontation between Spacers and APES, except this time, there were spacers laying about the deck, attended to by spacer medical technicians. There was also a large contingent of security forces, but this time their weapons were drawn, loaded, cocked and aimed at her troops. Instead of that wimp Chang, Colonel Britaine stood in the middle between the two groups.

  "Colonel Britaine?" Misha asked. She didn't really want to know what had happened. She thought, "Why me? Why can't I just go off in quiet and kill somebody like I am trained to do?" She saw Second Race Jackson stood in front of the APES…again. She thought that if he had caused two incidents in one day, she would have to take drastic action. Red-lining Jackson for the upcoming operation would be action she could ill afford at this point in their preparation. She wasn’t the only one that couldn’t afford to lose a good second, the unit as a whole couldn’t afford it. She hadn't wanted to red-line Slezak. She needed every able-bodied veteran she could get. Losing a second would be a serious problem. Losing a well-liked second would hurt morale as well as damage their combat effectiveness.

  Britaine snarled, "While you were off with your Marshal Service boyfriend, I had to come down here during my off shift. I thought I told you to get control of your unit?"

  Misha said nothing.

  "Don't start that silent treatment crap with me again, McPherson. Speak up. And remember this; I am not as easy to push around as Waterboy." At her blank look, he explained, "Major Chang. Because of you and your troops, I am now going to have to discipline a good FAC pilot just before I need him in combat. Because of a disagreement with a grunt, I am going to have to ground a man whose training and career have cost the AMSF millions of credits. That wouldn't have happened if you had been able to control your unit and if you hadn't ordered an official apology."

  She waved her hand around the training bay, "Colonel, at this point I don't have a comment on either what went on earlier or here. As to what went on earlier; that is over and done with. My report has been completed and filed. As for what went on here; I don't have enough information to make a comment."

  She turned to Jackson. "Second Jackson, were you involved?"

  "Yes, sir. But not how it looks."

  Britaine interrupted, "How it looks is that your troops jumped my crew and tried to dismantle them."

  Misha replied, "Yes, Colonel. I agree. That is how it looks. However, I am sure that since we are two reasonable and intelligent people, we should be able to use our working relationship to get to the bottom of this. Don't you agree, Bill?" She smiled at him, actually fluttering her eyelids. She placed one hand on his bicep and gave his muscle a gentle squeeze.

  Misha was surprised at herself. She had always made fun of her younger sister GeLeann when she did such girlie things. Gee was a flirt who got her way at every turn with any man in the room. When Gee batted her eyes, smiled and swished her tail, men would rush to her aid. Gee had used those tricks to get Misha out of a jam. Misha’s father, by family arrangement, contracted her engagement to Packet Skeller. Arranged marriages were the norm on her home planet, where only males inherit and females advance simply by marital connections. Unmarried females become the labor forces.

  Packet would have been a good husband. He was her older brother’s best friend with a large and wealthy homestead in the McDonald Highlands. He was a good man who had treated his first wife well. He was a widower with a small son. This proved that he could father sons and this was of great importance on DropSix. Heavy-worlder men have daughters at a rate of four to one due to the effects of gravity on their testicles.

  The first accepted recognition that excessive gravity force affected offspring’s gender came in the twentieth-century air forces on Earth One. Jet fighter pilots had a higher tendency toward daughters due to high G maneuvers than the general population. On DropSix with high gravity the constant norm, the rate of sons to daughters changed drastically. Fortunately, it was not enough of a change to make the planet uninhabitable by humans. Many societies would have accepted multiple marriages, but the majority of DropSix's population descended from the ancient Scots, whose sense of morality would not condone polygamy. Instead, their society adjusted to arranged marriages and a vast female work force.

  Misha didn’t dislike Packet, but she couldn’t bring herself to marry him. She couldn’t explain why to her parents, Packet or even herself. All the Skeller Clan was as angry as Misha's own father was at her for breaking the contract. Her sister Gee flirted with Packet for days on end until he relented and took her to wife instead. Misha knew the marriage made GeLeann happy and she would make Packet happy.

  Still, it surprised Misha to use the same tricks her sister used. She was even more surprised when they worked on Britaine.

  He said, "I suppose we should get the full story before we go off with our guns blazing. Right, Misha?"

  She smiled sweetly, even through the bitter taste in her mouth, "Yes, Bill. If you think that's best?"

  Britaine turned a cold eye to her second, "Sergeant Jackson, continue."

  Misha stopped her eyes from rolling upward. She made a quick hand signal for the APES to stand fast. She didn't want any APES reacting to Britaine's insult to Second Jackson. She doubted Britaine or his spacers saw her hand movement. If they did, she was sure they would not get its meaning. No matter what the AMSF thought, APES were seconds or deuce and did not react well to hearing sergeant.

  Misha nodded at Jackson, "Second, please report."

  "Yes, sir. Trooper One Sigget Donnellson of my Foxtrot Squad is the senior weapons tech for the unit." He pointed at Donnellson, held in place by three other APES, who in turn had weapons pointed at them by security forces. "He was meeting with the other weapons techs about the upcoming dirt drop. You know, getting everything in order and all of that. He wanted to make sure the new guys had their act together. Anyway, when I came in to check on them, I had to pull Trooper Donnellson off those three spacers." He pointed to med-techs giving assistance to three men. "There were some other scuffles, but the rest was just pushing and shoving."

  "Pussies!" Donnellson shouted.

  Before Misha or Britaine could respond, Jackson spun about and planted his fist deep into Donnellson’s face. "Shut your burger hole, Sigget," Jackson spat the words into his face. "One more word, boy, and I mean one more small word, and I am going to shove you into your suit and weld it shut. Then I will just leave you there. Got me, Sigget? Do you get me, damn you?"

  Donnellson nodded slowly, blood oozing from a cu
t on his lip.

  "Mister Jackson," Misha said. "I think we can do without more violence at this point."

  "Sorry, sir, but that wasn't violence. That was just to get his attention, wasn't it, Siggy? Did I get your attention?" Jackson said.

  "Yeah, Race. I got ya,” Donnellson nodded. "Sorry, Third. I guess I screwed up. I kinda lost my temper."

  Britaine interrupted, "Kind of screwed up? I should say so. Look at those men. Are you going to tell me you did that by yourself?"

  "No, sir," Donnellson said. "Mostly they got in each other’s way. But, yeah, I guess it was me."

  Britaine said, "What could possibly possess you to attack three innocent men?"

  Misha said, "Sir, suppose we ask these men what happened and why they were in the APES training bay in the first place before we decide guilt or innocence. Please?"

  Little by little, it came out. Donnellson and the other weapons technicians had been running through schematics of the new mass driver intake feeds when a dozen spacers sauntered into the training bay. The spacers appeared confident. There were twelve of them and only eleven APES. The APES had known what the spacers didn't. The spacers were effectively outnumbered two to one.

  A low-ranking spacer spoke first. "Man, it sure smells in here. It smells like my daddy's pig farm."

  Donnellson replied, "Strange. It didn't use to smell that way. Juarez, did you notice a change in the smell?"

  Miguel Juarez of Able Squad sniffed their air and said, "You know, now that you mention it, I did notice a change. Hey! Can you vacuum-heads fix the air recyclers in here?"

  Kranich of Bravo Squad said, "Play nice, people. Can we help you, gentlemen?"

  One of the spacers replied, "Help us? I don't think I've ever needed help from an APE."

  Kranich replied, "Hey. Up until forty-five days ago, I was in the AMSF just like you guys. I was a four striper, a gunnery command sergeant on the Durango. There isn't any need for hostility here."