One Day on Mars s-1

by Travis S. Taylor

  "Fish, behind you!" Lieutenant Commander Jack Boland warned his wingman but didn't give her time to respond. "Guns, guns, guns!" he grunted after yawing his fighter one hundred and eighty degrees and then going to his DEG. The Seppy Gnat burst into four pieces and flew apart.

  "Goddamn, where did that fucking Gnat come from?" Fish said over the net.

  "I told you to keep an eye out. Just because the Seppy bastards are beaten don't mean there ain't some hiding out in the wreckage with their power off," Boland reminded his young wingman. He would have thought of her as inexperienced, but after the day they had just been through she had seen more experience than a lot of pilots would in a lifetime. But Jack feared that wasn't going to remain true either. With the Seppies gone to who knows where he feared that the real war was just beginning.

  "Demonchild, you've been quiet on that side of the ship for a while. You got anything over there?" Boland looked through the virtual mindview of the wreckage for potential bogies down at the Madira for a brief second. What a fuckin' day.

  You got that right, sir, Candis replied.

  "We got nothing over here, sir. Must be an hour now that we haven't seen a fuckin' thing," Demonchild said over the tac-net.

  "Well, keep your eyes open. We just got one over here." Boland yawed his Ares fighter back over to get a closer look at his wingman. Her little fighter was pockmarked and scarred to hell. It would need a new paint job and probably a shitload of maintenance. They had taken on Gnats and the new Stingers from space to Mars and now back out into space for the mopping up. He could see repair crews in suits and mecha already scurrying over the Madira like worker ants putting it back together.

  "Roger that, DeathRay. Hey, you think after today we might get a few days' leave?" Demonchild laughed.

  "I was thinking of sleeping on a beach somewhere for a few days," Fish added.

  It sounded good to Jack. Hell, he had been up since way before daylight taking care of a high-risk mission and barely had time to eat before being thrust into an even bigger shit storm. As CAG he had a lot of letters to write. It was going to be hard to write the ones for Bigguns and Rabies, they were good pilots, good friends. Hell, it would be hard to write all of them.

  Shit, this has been one long fuckin' day.

  Yes, sir.

  "Gyrene, that is one mean son of a bitch hot shit metal machine you got there, but the damned pilot is the ugliest sorry sock full of shit I ever seen!" Army M3A17 Transfigurable Tank Mecha Commander Lieutenant Colonel Mason Warboys shook his longtime friend's hand, bumped his shoulders, and patted his back.

  "Well, you Army puke, that tank mecha ain't so bad either, but goddamn if you ain't rough on the eyes." Marine FM-12 Strike Mecha Commander of Cardiff's Killers Lieutenant Colonel John "Burner" Masterson laughed. "How bad are your boys?"

  "Lost a bunch of good tank drivers, John. And you?"

  "As far as we know we lost our entire supercarrier. The Killers, well, we lost a lot of good Marines, Mase." Burner looked at the Starlifters dropping in behind their mecha. As soon as they were reloaded they were going to help out with the cleanup of the domes. Normally, other soldiers would step in, but they had lost so many that they were the only seasoned soldiers available. More were on the way from Luna and Earth, but they were reserve units still mustering in North Carolina. It would be hours before they got there and some of the Seppy stragglers could get away by the time reinforcements showed up.

  "Your boys okay for more work?"

  "We're tired and down, but we can hang with you jarheads. Damn, I'm glad you made it, Burner. When I heard about your boat . . . "

  "Yeah, thanks, Mase."

  "Warlord One! Lieutenant Colonel Warboys," one of the Starlifter crews was calling him. "Sir?"

  "Duty calls, Burner."

  "See ya soon. Watch your six!"

  "Roger that. You too."

  "Chief of the Boat Command Master Chief William Edwards!" Captain Sharon "Fullback" Walker called across the hospital room at her COB. The corpsman working on her leg was finishing up with the instacast. Once the young hospital corpsman first class had shot her full of pain meds and immunoboost, she placed the instacast around her leg and pulled the string. The cast expanded antibiotic gel into the compound fracture wound and then expanded until it forced the bone back into place. Then the gel material hardened enough to support her leg but still give with muscle tissue movement.

  "Captain Walker, ma'am!" Bill snapped a salute with his right hand. He had a gelbandage on his left shoulder and his back. Something had impaled him, it appeared. "You've looked better, ma'am, if you don't mind my saying."

  "You don't look so hot yourself, Command Master Chief." Fullback smiled at her COB. He single-handedly had saved the Martian city by getting the propulsion back online. "Good work, Bill. Hell, excellent work. I don't know how you did it but I'm putting you in for the medal."

  "Captain, I was just doing my job."

  "A brilliant leader once said, 'Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. It's not a day when you lounge around doing nothing; it's when you've had everything to do and you've done it,' " Fullback said. "I think that sums up what you did today, Bill."

  "I think it fits us all, the entire crew, ma'am. Who said that?"

  "Former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher." The captain smiled at her COB as he nodded in agreement. "Now, shouldn't you be tending to my crew?"

  "Aye sir!"

  "Sergeant Clay, PFC Kudaf, Second Lieutenant Washington." Alexander shook the AEM's hands. Of the squad that was deployed to bring him, his wife, and daughter to safety they were the only three that had survived. "Thank you for what you did for us today. Semper Fi."

  "Semper Fi!" They nodded to the senator.

  "If either of you men ever need anything . . . seriously . . . if y'all need anything all you have to do is have your AICs tag mine and you will get to me directly. Any time," Moore told the Marines.

  "We were just doing our jobs, Senator. You take care of yourself." The second lieutenant paused and then saluted him. "Major!"

  Moore returned the salute, nodded, and then closed up the hatch of the Starlifter and banged on the door three times with his fist. The AEMs were being transported into various domes of the city to help with mop-up and search and rescue. Moore turned and walked back toward the elevator of the hangar of the giant supercarrier as the Starlifter lifted quietly off the battered flight deck of the ship. The large transport ship along with several other vehicles passed through the airseal force field at the open end of the hangar. A flurry of rescue and resupply vehicles continued in and out of the hangar deck. Medical crews had set up emergency triage units along the bulkheads, and wounded were being attended to there. The walking wounded were unloaded from the rescue vehicles and then directed to other decks.

  "That was a very touching moment, Senator. The networks have been running our footage of you fighting to protect your family and the details of your story. They would love to go live in an interview with you." Gail Fehrer stood in front of him at the elevator shaft.

  "Can I change clothes first?" Moore looked down at the blood-splattered and dusty e-suit. He had tossed the helmet aside an hour earlier but hadn't had time to change as he was making rounds to see soldiers and civilians and was shaking hands every chance he could. He even had helped carry some gurneys for a while. He was tired and he let out a long sigh.

  "It might be more authentic if you didn't." Gail cocked her head sideways and raised her left eyebrow in thought. "Whatever you prefer is fine by me. But they would like to go live as soon as you are ready."

  "Gail . . . uh." Moore paused for a second and reached over to the cameraman pushing the camera down. "Turn that off for a minute."

  "What?!" Calvin gasped.

  "Go ahead, Calvin. Seriously." Gail knew when to turn the cameras on and when not to. And sometimes it was that trick that got you the real story.

  "Calvin, stay here a minute." Moore held up a finger a
t the cameraman. Then he grabbed the reporter by the wrist and led her a few meters to a tool room with a big window in it overlooking the hangar. He pulled her through the doorway to it and then closed the door behind them.

  "What's this about, Senator?"

  "Gail. There is a story here, a story that could make both of us if we played it right. Oh sure, you are a big correspondent now, but I'm thinking much bigger than that." Moore paused to see if there was any reaction, but the reporter had a good poker face.

  "What is this story?"

  "Hell, just look out the window at all of that! Look how many wounded are pouring in here and to the hospitals across the city and at the Navy base. It will last for days. Then they will have to start moving the dead. That will take even longer!" Moore thought about how to say what needed to be said.

  "Yeah, it is horrible. I get it."

  "Oh, you get the fact that this is a horrible thing that happened, but the bigger story is how did this happen. How did America allow this to happen? How did President Alberts allow this to happen? How did the Democratically controlled Congress allow this to happen?" He paused again and pointed at the streams of wounded that continued to pour into the hangar deck. A smile started to grow across Fehrer's face. Moore knew she would get it. A reporter isn't a good reporter if they can't find somebody to make a hero and if they can't think of somebody or many somebodies to crucify.

  "I see . . . "

  "Think about it. Why didn't we know that the Seppies had that big of an Army and Navy? Where did they get all that mecha and the carriers and the haulers? Either somebody in the government was asleep at the wheel, which is unforgivable, or they were in on it, which is even more unforgivable. And by God I'm gonna find out who." Moore had her now. "We are gonna find out who and fuckin' draw and quarter them, metaphorically speaking of course, on systemwide television."

  "And . . . there is always an and or a but. You need something more from me than just me doing my job." Gail was sharp. Moore knew that she would be the right person for the job.

  "I never thought of this until now, believe me or not I don't care, but all day long I've only thought of one thing and that was getting my family safe. But now that I've reflected on this for a few moments I want to make certain that this will not happen again in this country or at least it will not happen to us with our pants down and so unsuspecting."

  "Mmhm. How will you do that, Senator?"

  "That's the key you just said. Senator Alexander Moore from Mississippi can't do a diddly thing about it. But President Alexander Moore could." Moore stopped and stood looking Gail in the eye. "Make me president of the United States and I'll not let this happen again. And you can be an anchor, a White House spokesman, or whatever you want. The right ally in the press could do this. You can do this!"

  The press, if they played it right, had the power to sway most anything they wanted. Moore was a good candidate. He had given years as a Marine and showed how powerful and selfless and caring he was on this horrible day on camera. Gail and Calvin had caught it all and America was about to see it. With the right spin he could take the White House in November by a landfall. The GOP would have no choice but to choose him as their candidate. He continued to stare Gail in the eye and didn't make another sound.

  "Deal." Gail held up her hand and Moore shook it with a smile. "Now come with me and let's get started on your campaign." Gail opened the tool room office door and led the senator back out to the cameraman, who was standing around perplexed at the shots he was missing by having his camera off.

  "So what was that about?" he muttered to his boss.

  "Calvin, get the live feed ready. We're about to interview the senator," she replied.

  What a day, hey, Abigail? Moore said to his AIC.

  She's a good ally, sir.

  I know.

  Yes, sir. What a day. It has been a long one.

  Sir? Your wife and daughter want to go home.

  So do I, Abigail. So do I.

  Chapter 28

  5:01 PM Mars Tharsis Standard Time

  ". . . with this exclusive interview to go along with the footage you have just seen from the brave senator's exploits today on Mars, MNN correspondent Gail Fehrer has the senator live from the hangar deck of the crashed supercarrier the U.S.S. Margaret Thatcher, where a staging area has been set up to treat the hundreds of thousands of wounded. We go now live to the supercarrier. Gail?"

  Elle pulled off her ski mask and threw it across her bed. She stood staring out the window as Mars got farther and farther away. Then she pulled her uniform off and slipped on a comfortable cotton non-designer dress—she never got to wear normal clothes anymore. Maybe some of that would change now that she would be out of the system and away from the deathly reach of the American CIA assassins. Maybe for a while she could rest and think. There was still much work to be done, but she wasn't going to think about that just now. Instead, she was going to walk around in her bare feet for a few minutes, pour herself a stiff drink, and put her feet up and think about how she was going to burn forever in Hell for what she had done. But burning in Hell would be a small price to pay for what she had accomplished today.

  Elle listened to the MNN interview with her old acquaintance and was proud of the Marine turned politician for what he had done with the situation he had been thrust into. He had been caught up in the revolution, but then again she hoped all of America would be. But Major Moore, of course that was now Senator Moore, had not taken the day lying in a hole and sniveling like a typical politician. Moore fought. He fought to protect his family and the things that were dear to him. Ahmi had always liked those qualities in the Marine when she had kept him in her camp. And he was smart too. Now he was using the momentum of this day to change his status from a political nobody to an American hero. Everybody liked a hero. Moore might just be useful someday after all. Elle was happy about that.

  "All hands, this is the captain. Prepare for hyperspace in thirty seconds." The bosun's pipe and the intercom startled her and annoyed her a bit as it cut into the interview. She would have to get a replay of all of it once they dropped out of hyperspace in a month.

  Elle stretched her body left and right and twisted her chin from shoulder to shoulder listening to the creaking and popping in her neck and back as she looked at Mars, where she had been born, where she had grown up, where she had raised her first kitty, where she had fallen in and out of love for the first time, where she had gone to college and become a software developer, where she had started her software company that had become a multi-billion-dollar corporation, where she had had children, where she had run for mayor of Little Tharsis for the first time, and where she had learned to kill. Mars was a part of her very being and now it would be gone to her for a long time.

  "Meow."

  "Ah, Socks. Now come here," Elle called to her AIK. The artificial cat nuzzled up to her shins and purred. Unless it was analyzed with QM sensors or it was torn apart and examined, it was indiscernible from a real kitty cat. Elle picked up the AIK and gently stroked the robotic pet's fur.

  The planet jumped way off into space and vanished as a single point as the whirlpool of converging purples and blues opened up around the ship. The ship jumped through the hyperspace opening into the conduit and normal space was behind them. It would be a month when they dropped out of hyperspace a light-year away in the Oort Cloud before they saw normal space. Then a few minutes after that she would lead the ships through the quantum membrane teleportation portal there and the Free People of America would see their new home on the largest moon of the gas-giant fourth planet from the star Tau Ceti. Had her spies within America not discovered the QMT above-top-secret research program and brought the details of it to her the day would not have been possible. There was no way that that many of the Free People could escape the system at once and to go beyond the reach of the Americans. To her knowledge the American scientists had not figured out how to use the technology yet. Hers had. With hyperspace, Tau Ceti wa
s a year's travel from Sol, but with QMT it was a few seconds. This allowed her people a year at least to prepare for any retaliation.

  "Raow." Socks looked up at her.

  "It's good to see you too, kitty. Your brothers and sisters did very well for Mommy today." Elle caressed her pet and then set it down. Her kittens were perfect unsuspecting electronic warfare transceivers that nobody had ever suspected were wandering through the cities of the United States of America collecting computer signatures and jamming and downloading viruses—sleeper viruses—across the Sol System. "Good kitties." She allowed herself to grin only for a short time. As successful as the Exodus had been it was still horrendous and terrible and made her question it all, but her resolve couldn't waver now.

  Elle poured herself a drink and sat back in her recliner, letting her feet up. She spun the recliner around to face the window. The general's quarters were the largest on the ship and furnished with a small living area and a four-post king-sized bed looking out the full transparent exterior wall of the room. Elle could close the blinds and curtains if she needed to but she never did. She liked keeping the lighting low in her quarters so she could see the wonders of the universe outside her. She loved the beautiful swirling blues and violets and flashes of dim white light created by the hyperspace conduit. The beauty took her mind off the horrible things that she had done to humanity. She was almost drifting off to sleep when her door buzzer sounded.

  "I said I didn't want to be disturbed."

  "It's your old friend," the male voice replied through the door intercom.

  Copernicus, is he safe? She had her AIC run scanners on the man outside her cabin.

  He's alone, unbugged, and unarmed.

  Very well. Let him in.

  "How are you, Madam . . . " the man paused until the soundproof door was closed and then finished, ". . . President?"

  "Oh stow it, Scotty, and have a drink." Elle rubbed at her eyes.