by Cary Caffrey
"How far away from camp do you think we are?" Suko asked.
"I don't know, but it's that way," Sigrid said, pointing upstream. Getting back on her feet took some effort. With the cut on her foot and having no boots, Sigrid had to lean heavily on Suko. "This sucks."
They'd walked for perhaps an hour when Sigrid needed to stop. Both her feet were raw and her injured foot throbbed like merry hell. Sigrid still didn't know how much further they'd need to go. It was well into the evening and the sun had nearly set; it would be dark very soon.
Suko helped Sigrid sit down, leaning her back against one of the wide redwood trees and carefully unwrapping the sodden dressing on her foot. She tore off another strip from the bottom of her T-shirt, wadding it and applying pressure, using another strip to tie it in place.
"You need to stop bleeding," Suko said. "I'm running out of shirt."
"You? What about me? I gave mine to Khepri." Sigrid said, looking down at her bare midriff; all she wore now were her shorts and athletic bra. They both laughed.
"We shouldn't walk anymore," Suko said, sitting next to Sigrid.
The temperature was starting to drop and Sigrid shivered. "I just need a break."
Suko put an arm around her and pulled her close.
Sigrid was exhausted and felt herself relax into Suko's arms, resting her head on her shoulder. "Much better. Let's just stay here for a bit." Her eyelids felt heavy, and Suko's body felt warm against her. I'll just close my eyes for a second, she thought.
She realized she'd fallen asleep only when she awoke much later, cold and shivering. She felt a surge of panic when she realized Suko was gone. It was completely dark—she couldn't see her anywhere. "Suko…!" Her voice croaked; her throat felt raw and sore.
She heard a rustling in the brush behind her, and footsteps. "I'm here!" Suko called to her, rushing back. "Sorry—I had to pee." Suko slid back next to her. Both girls were freezing, and their arms wrapped around each other, hugging for whatever warmth they could get. "We can't stay here—we'll freeze."
Sigrid nodded and tried to rise, but she couldn't put any weight on her foot.
"And you can't walk," Suko said, looking at her with concern. "Come on—hop on." Suko bent her back lower, offering it to Sigrid. "I'll piggyback you."
"You can't carry me all that way."
"We don't even know how far it is. We might almost be there." Sigrid looked doubtful. "Come on, Seeg. We can't stay here."
Sigrid surrendered to her friend's logic and climbed on her back. It was the first time she'd been grateful for her small size. Except for a few stumbles in the dark, Suko was able to carry her with little trouble. Both girls had remarkable night-vision, and thanks to their enhanced strength Suko was able to keep a consistent pace, even up some of the steeper pitches. They both knew that if they followed the river long enough they'd eventually reach the camp.
Sigrid's arms and thighs throbbed where she clung to Suko's back, but she dared not complain—not with Suko doing such a valiant job carrying her. Still, she could feel Suko's legs growing more unsteady beneath her, and her gait was beginning to falter.
"We should rest," Sigrid said.
No further prompting needed, Suko collapsed, and both girls tumbled to the ground.
"Good idea," Suko said, exhausted and panting. She lay on her back, staring up. "I am so hungry."
As if on cue, Sigrid's stomach produced a loud growl, making both girls laugh. "Me too." They were both shivering again and held on to each other.
"I'm just glad you're here," Suko said.
"Me?" Sigrid said, through chattering teeth. "I'd rather be back in camp around a fire, thank you very much."
"I'm serious. If I have to be stuck out here with someone, I'm…well, I'm just glad it's you."
Sigrid raised her head up, looking at Suko—Suko, who always protected her and stood up for her. Suko who was always there for her. "I'm glad you're here too," she said, then kissed Suko softly on the lips. Suko kissed her back, holding her hand tightly before resting her head on Sigrid's shoulder.
When Sigrid awoke, the sun was just cresting the tops of the hills to the east; she felt Suko stirring at her side. Both girls were numb and sore—the blood on Sigrid's bandaged foot looked black, but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore.
"Shit a brick…" Suko said, sitting up.
"What?"
"Stupid, stupid, stupid…"
"What?"
Suko pointed at the hillside by the river bank, and Sigrid recognized it immediately; she could just make out the edge of the clearing where they'd set camp, perhaps less than a half kilometer distant—and behind them.
"We walked right by it," Suko said. Her look of disgust turned to a smirk and she laughed.
"Crap," Sigrid said.
Suko helped her up; Sigrid still couldn't walk, and she let Suko carry her the rest of the way back to the encampment. When the other girls saw them, they came running forward shouting their names—obviously worried and glad to see they were okay. Two girls whisked Sigrid off Suko's back and carried her the rest of the way.
While Mei cleaned and put a proper dressing on Sigrid's foot, Sigrid told the girls what happened. Sara hadn't come back; Sigrid did her best to describe where they'd fallen from the cliff. She hadn't seen Sara fall, but after the incident that she described, no one was hopeful. Mei sent two groups of girls to search for her, but no trace of Sara was found.
"We'll keep looking," Mei said. "If she's out there we'll find her."
Few girls shared her optimism—they definitely feared the worst.
Sigrid noticed a few of Sara's cronies eyeing her suspiciously. "Do…do they think I killed her?" Sigrid whispered to Suko when they were alone.
Suko shook her head slowly. "I—I don't know…"
The other girls had managed to finish the shelter, which comprised little more than a small makeshift lean-to, barely big enough to fit all of them. The next night was still cool, but much more pleasant, spent under cover and warmed by the presence of the others—and Suko, who kept her arms wrapped tightly around her.
"I can't breathe!" Sigrid said. They both giggled when Suko held her tighter still. Sigrid didn't really mind; she was warm and felt safe in Suko's arms.
After another full day of rest, Sigrid's foot had healed enough to walk and she joined Suko and some of the other girls in a hunt. Already growing tired of fish, the girls were determined to catch something more substantial. It took a great deal of time and patience, but six of them eventually tracked and cornered one of the elk. It was Sigrid who managed to spear it, landing the killing blow. Slaughtering the beast was a hopeless and bloody disaster, leaving many of the girls green. But when it was done, Sigrid was presented with the first cuts, cooked over the roaring bonfire. The girls teased her playfully, referring to her as, 'Our Great Provider'. Sigrid found it both ridiculous and delightful.
When the transports arrived ten days later, Rosa was greeted by the sight of thirty-one ragged and bleary-eyed girls, who seemed far from pleased with him. He was impressed by the size and fortification of their shelters, even more so when he'd been presented with the trophy of the elk antlers. But when told that Sara was missing his face took on a grim, solemn look. He acknowledged the news with a simple, curt nod. Two Kingfishers, and more transports from the school, were dispatched to look for her, but days and nights of exhaustive searching failed to turn anything up. There was no trace of her. Sara was gone.
Once the shelters had been dismantled and the area cleaned, the girls piled back into the remaining transports for the trip back to the school. The sight of the Academy had a strange effect on Sigrid after her days in the wilds. The thought of her soft, dry bed, and warm food served to her by the attending staff didn't excite her, as much as it felt ostentatious and unnecessary. How had she ever thought of this place as austere? The school was a virtual resort, her dormitory a palace.
It was good to be back though, and she lay in her bunk that night thinking o
f the nights spent in the wilds with the girls, with Suko. It was the first night in a week where she hadn't had Suko's protective arms wrapped around her; she couldn't help but miss them, and she tossed restlessly for an interminable amount of time, unable to sleep despite her exhaustion.
CHAPTER FIVE
Proposition
May 3, 2346
The smoky air hung heavy in the dim light of The Prancing Beagle—one of the more popular watering holes of Vincenze Station in orbit above Crucis Prime. Major Karl Tarsus took another long gulp from his glass of ale, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve as he studied his companion. He didn't know the man's name, but that wasn't surprising; most of his clients preferred a degree of discretion. He'd worked for Smith—as he'd dubbed the man—on a number of occasions. Always the usual things: interdictions, search and seizures and the inevitable saber-rattling when the occasion called for it; but it was smalltime stuff.
Smalltime suited the major just fine. He wasn't an ambitious man. As long as he could maintain his small fleet of four ships and keep his levies paid to the Mercenary Guild, that was just fine. But what Smith proposed was so outlandish that, when the man proposed it, he'd spewed his last mouthful of ale across the small table, drenching the man's lapel and jacket sleeve.
"You want me to go after Kimura?" Tarsus asked. "You want me to attack one of the oldest private Mercenary organizations in the entire Federation." Tarsus could hold back no longer and he burst into uproarious laughter. Smith stared back at him, unblinking, while he used a handkerchief to clean the drops of ale from his jacket. "I'm sorry, but I think you've got the wrong man. We're a small operation. We have four ships—when they're all functioning. Kimura…well, let's just say they have a lot more."
Smith pressed his thin lips together, clearly struggling with his patience. "We're not asking you to attack the entire Kimura Military, Mr. Tarsus—"
"Major," Tarsus corrected him.
Smith gave him a dry look. "Major. I don't even want you to attack them at all. All we want is for you go to Alcyone—"
"Yes, yes—you want us to grab a bunch of schoolgirls off a Kimura Base. I know, Mr.…" Tarsus waited once more for Smith to offer up his name, but of course the man said nothing so he continued, "I assume you don't have a permit for this operation, either." Tarsus knew he didn't. By law, any military action, mercenary or otherwise, needed to be sanctioned by the CTF, otherwise known as the Council for Trade and Finance, the governing body of the Federation of Commercial Enterprises.
"No, Mr. Tarsus. We have no permit."
"Then I'm afraid there's nothing we can do for you. If my outfit gets caught operating without a permit…I'd lose my guild standing. Not to mention the retaliation from Kimura."
"Spare me the negotiation tactics, Mr. Tarsus. You have no compunction against unsanctioned operations. We're quite familiar with your organization—which is why we came to you." Smith leaned forward. "Tell me, Mr. Tarsus, are your guild levies in good standing?"
Of course, they weren't. Tarsus took a long pull on his ale.
"Your accounts are well in arrears, Mr. Tarsus. You'll lose your guild standing soon enough, and I don't see any other clients lining up to pay you the kind of sum I've just offered. Shall we dispense with the negotiation tactics, and cut to brass tacks?"
Tarsus waved him off. "I'd still be a fool to go up against Kimura. I have no ego in these matters. I know my organization's limits…and this is beyond ours."
"Thirty-two girls, six-point-two million dollars a head—surely that should be enough for you to take on any extra help you might need."
Tarsus mulled it over and took another pull on his ale, emptying the glass. $6.2 million was an extremely generous amount. There was obviously more to the job than Smith was letting on, but that wasn't surprising. He signaled the waitress over, ordered another and allowed himself a moment to appreciate the girl—all long legs and hips. Smith had a point and he knew it.
"Very well," Tarsus conceded, and grumbled, "I suppose we both knew I'd say yes the moment you sat down."
"Perhaps even before, Mr. Tarsus." Smith rose to his feet. "I'll transmit the particulars to your ship."
Tarsus waved his hand dismissively again. "Yes, yes—I'll have my man call your man…"
Smith turned on his heels and departed. Only when Tarsus was sure the man had left the bar and no one else was paying attention to him did he call over his second in command. Lt. Commander Selene Tseng slid into the booth across from him. He looked admiringly at his 'second'. Her jet black hair curved in a flattering fashion around her strong face. Her tall, thin figure belied a raw energy he'd seen unleashed on unsuspecting attackers on many occasions. She was the most skilled pilot he'd ever encountered in his long career, and her steely, ice-cold nerves at the helm had delivered him from many a scrape over the years.
She was his protégé, even though she didn't know it. At twenty-seven, Tarsus worried she might be too young to be taken seriously in command of a ship of her own. But her time would come, and soon. He already relied on her a great deal. He could trust her, and that was why she was the only member of his organization that he'd ever brought with him when meeting Smith.
"Did you get him?" Tarsus asked.
Selene held up a small recording device. "Right here, Major."
Tarsus nodded, satisfied. "I think it's time we learned the identity of our benefactor, don't you?"
CHAPTER SIX
Upgrades
From The Journal of Dr. Lisa Garrett
September 14, 2346
RE: Project Andraste
Dear Hitomi-san,
I'm very pleased to report that we've reached the next milestone in the project. Today, we began the process of implanting the girls with the Primary Control Module. It shouldn't take more than a day or two to complete the procedure on all of them. This will be the foundation for the Artificial Neural Network that we discussed so many times.
I've decided to implant an Optical Module as well, along with a small test program—something Felix has suggested. I feel this will be a good benchmark for some of the other bionics and modifications we hope to introduce in the coming years.
It will take many months to monitor the effects, but early data suggests a 100% success rate—no signs of rejection or mutation.
As for the Genetic Modifications, the girls all show the same improvements in all aspects of their biology. It will be years more before we can consider adding any of the high-level programming, but we should be able to start working with basic bionics in short order. As per your recommendation, we'll stick with proven technology: optical implants, communication modules, etc., before introducing some of the more radical designs.
I wish very much that you could be here. Your expertise in nanotechnology would be most welcome and of great help.
Yours truly,
Lisa
CHAPTER SEVEN
War Games
November 17, 2346
"Gear up!" Chesna bellowed.
Sigrid grabbed the eSMG, checking the chamber and safety before strapping the gun to her back. The Markov XP 18 mm clipped to the holster at her hip, while the long bowie knife fitted neatly in the sheath in her tall boots. All of the girls had similar load-outs.
"That's right. You're all magnificent bitches," Chesna said, appraisingly, as she inspected their ranks.
Sigrid felt magnificent. Chesna had trained them hard for months. Each girl was now a crack shot, and they could field-strip any of their weapons in a matter of seconds. But it was more than that, more than just the training, and Sigrid knew it. Dr. Garrett’s treatments…
Sigrid ran her finger over the small access port of the Primary Control Module—or PCM—tucked behind her ear above her hairline. The skin around the small, two-millimeter-wide port was still raw and red where a small section of hair had been shaved from her head. But this was the only evidence of the surgery she'd recently undergone. Sigrid was still getting used to the idea of havin
g a computer network wired into her head, and she couldn't stop touching the small opening.
The sun had already set behind the mountains and darkness was setting in fast. There would be no moon tonight—Rosa had chosen this night in particular to test their new upgrades. Dr. Garrett had implanted all of them with an optical implant. It gave the girls several different viewing options: infra red and night-vision. They could even see the chemical composition of the objects in their surroundings. Their genetically-enhanced vision already afforded them superior sight, but with the new optics they could see as clearly as in the light of day—albeit in a slightly hazy monochrome grey. It was jarring at first, but Sigrid had adapted to it quickly.
Across the compound, eight of the little T-48 VTOL transports sat parked in a row, waiting for the girls assembled in the field before them. The Starlings were small atmospheric flying craft, distinguished by their counter-rotating propellers mounted on each side of the fuselage. They were noisy and cramped, with barely enough room for four passengers in the rear compartment. The Starlings usually sported two 44 mm cannons mounted on each side, but those had been removed for the moment.
Sigrid caught the gleam in Suko's eyes as she surveyed the ships. "Where do you think we're headed?"
"As long as we get to fly, I don't care," Suko said.
The girls had been divided into eight fire-teams. Leta and Khepri joined Sigrid and Suko to complete their group. They gathered in front of Rosa and Chesna for the mission briefing.
Suko tossed a large, long-barreled sniper rifle to Sigrid. "Don't forget this."
Sigrid gripped the rifle, letting her hands play over its cool, smooth surface. It was surprisingly light and fitted well in her diminutive hands. Sigrid knew she was the smallest of the group, and certainly not the toughest or best fighter, but she was a dead-shot with anything that had a trigger.