by T S Weaver
“Don’t make me shoot you, Stone.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.” She took a step toward him. “I warned you, back in the supply dump. You disobey or betray us, I’ll shoot you myself. That hasn’t changed.”
Could he pull off killing her, without the others stopping him? No, it wasn’t an option, they were watched. If he reached for a weapon, he’d be seen. Sure, he might get a shot off, but then what? “I’m not a soldier.”
“Never said you were.”
“I work for money, not glory, or a misguided sense of honor.”
“Never claimed anything else.”
Then what the hell was she thinking? “And I’m not good with kids.”
“Then we actually have something in common. But we’re not going to leave them to die. We’ll find a way.”
“What part of not possible are you failing to understand?”
“You’re going to leave us here, aren’t you?” The small voice, a sandy-haired girl, with a bruise on her temple, asked. “You’re running out, and we’ll be on our own.” Ten, maybe younger, the girl lifted her soft brown gaze to peer at Stone and Lawbook. “I don’t want to be left behind.” She didn’t cry, but her eyes shimmered, and bottom lip trembled.
“None of us do, Paula. It’s why I’ll make sure we get out of here, no matter what he says.” Tall, striking, with jet black hair and a mocha cast to his skin, the man, barely old enough to be counted as an adult, rested his hands on Paula’s shoulders. “We’re all going to find a way out of here, and then the navy will deal with the invaders.”
Zac bit back a cry of pain as he tried to shift his weight. His legs ached, knees throbbed, and the pressure beneath his feet increased as time passed. He closed his eyes and struggled, unable to relax. Any small movement only served to impress on him how he was held in place. He had no means of escape, and he no longer tried to talk, not even to keep his mind from sinking into despair.
Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t turn his head enough to see what was going on. His neck ached with the weight of the collar, and the small shift of shoulder, neck, and head only added to his growing discomfort. Yet he couldn’t ignore the flickering which continued to suggest they were no longer alone. If they’d ever been left unobserved, to begin with. How long they’d been held in place he couldn’t tell, but his mind offered a dozen answers, ranging from an hour to days.
“Punishment?” Charles suggested.
“Huh? This? Maybe, I don’t know.” Zac replied, his eyes still closed. “It could be, or a means of breaking us down a bit. I’m not trained in escape and evade, or anything else which might help here. I’m a civilian contractor, working in Ops.”
“E and E wouldn’t apply here. You’re talking about surviving interrogation,” said Matthew. “Not the same thing.”
“I’m not military, so excuse me for not remembering the right words,” he snapped at the Marine.
“You should know them if you’re Ops. Civies don’t belong in a military job, don’t know what the hell they were thinking of, signing up the likes of you.” Matthew snarled.
“Maybe because they couldn’t get enough serving military with more than one brain cell.”
Matthew snorted. “Like it takes more than one to work in Ops. They keep the real brains out in the field, where they belong.”
“Calm, he’s not the enemy here.”
Neither man replied to Charles.
A sound, soft, a whisper of movement, ended all conversation and drew the attention of all three men. Not the odd scrape-tap noise he’d come to expect from the aliens, but the footfall of a human being. At least, his instincts suggested human with a hopeful edge to the mental words.
The newcomer appeared a minute later, dressed in the simple garb of loose pants and a sleeveless tunic. His feet covered by slip on shoes, hair shoulder length and bound back with a black strip of cloth. A slender black collar was locked around the man’s neck, but the oddest thing was the smile he offered the three trapped men. He inclined his head, arms folded in front of him as he paused a dozen pages in front of the prisoners. “Greetings, friends. Greetings. You’re most welcome here and be at ease, you are among the chosen who will labor for the greater good of our masters.”
Matthew growled, the warning low and dangerous. “We’re not fucking slaves.”
Confusion flickered across the newcomers’ features. “I fail to see why you would be angry when you’ve been plucked from the dirt and raised to the status of the chosen.” His gaze moved from one man to the other and back again. “We are the lucky ones. Fed, clothed, taught to serve, instead of sentenced to life on this rock, without the care and protection of our beloved masters.” He sighed and closed his eyes, his lips moving, but if he spoke, the sound didn’t reach Zac. “But I have jumped ahead.” He smiled as he opened his eyes once more, the dark brown orbs alight with life and joy. “I am servant 5798, but I am also permitted the use name of Edward. Our masters have found human names have a calming effect on my fellow servants. A remnant of the past, no doubt, but you’ll soon become used to life among the blessed masters.”
Zac’s mind raced. Did the man not understand what he was saying? He peered at Edward, why wasn’t the newcomer able to fight his way free? He appeared to be calm, accepting his status in life, which meant he’d been a servant for a while. “How long have you been with them?”
“Them? Please remember to address our masters as either our masters or beloved ones. It is a matter of respect.”
“Beloved Ones? Are you insane? What have they done to you?” Charles demanded. “They’re fucking aliens, you weak-willed snot. The enemy. Nothing you say or do is going to change what they really are.”
“How long, why all of my life. I was chosen when but a child to be trained as one of the trusted ones.” Edward sighed and pointedly ignored Matthew’s words. “I believe the young one who was sheltered with you has been handed over to those now in charge of her re-education. She will be a welcome addition to the ranks of the servants. It’s been a long time since young born outside of the protection of the blessed masters was brought into the fold.”
Trusted? Trustees? Zac struggled to recall what he’d learned about the penal system. The way some prisoners had extra duties and privileges. “A child? What of your parents?”
“I am told they died before the masters found me. They nurtured me, made certain I was taught all I need to know in this life. Over time I was given further training and skills so I may help the honored ones with their new servants.”
“You can communicate with them?” Zac asked.
“Why, of course, and you will be able to do the same thing, once you have been prepared. But the work will take time, and I, among others, will teach you as we journey to the home of the masters. But first, we must attend to your bodies. You must be clean and rid of any bacteria or infections which may cause problems with the other servants.”
“Not the masters?” He pressed.
“They are superior beings, and not susceptible to the same things which attack our weaker forms.”
“Where did they find you?”
“Why, in the servant colony, of course. As all before you had come from. For the last fifty years, as you mark time, all servants have come from the colony of the pure ones.” He waved a hand and dismissed their other questions. “Now, silence. The cleansing must begin before anything else takes place.”
Zac tried to protest, but a thick white gas pumped into the chamber, stealing his ability to think or speak as it tugged him into the dark embrace of oblivion.
Cora stared at Stone as the young man spoke. She didn’t turn away, refusing to break eye contact. “If you believe I’ll leave a single survivor behind, then you’re more stupid than I gave you credit for.” She forced herself to continue. “And if escaping the colony, getting off world, isn’t possible at this time, then we’ll find a better place to hide up, keep the
survivors safe and plan other options. I won’t leave these people behind to be picked off one at a time. No matter what, sooner or later the UTG will be here, they aren’t going to sit back and lose a colony, not when it’s within the system. Pluto could be used as a staging area to launch a full-on attack on Earth, hitting each colony on the way to the final prize. They’ll bring in either the Navy or try to establish a diplomatic resolution.” The diplomatic option would be one they’d try first, right up until the point the aliens fired the first shot. Alright, maybe the second. Then all hell would break loose.
“You’re insane. They sent three ships, not enough to take out Earth.” Stone bristled his voice a sharp edge. “And if they have more than the initial three ships, it would be a mistake to take them on without more information. Look, if you want to die with the rest of these sheep, no skin off my nose, but I’m not going waste my life to be remembered three hundred years from now on a piece of cold stone if they allow us that much. Best we can hope for is to split up into small groups and find bolt holes as far away from the colony as possible.”
She didn’t reply, dismissing him without a word as she turned her attention to the two survivors. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll get you out of here. We have one ship, Stones, but if we can’t get to the base, we’re going to have to think of another way out.” She kept her voice calm, it was the only way she could keep from losing her temper. Damn Stone, he was a problem. If she had to shoot him, then so be it. “We’re going to need as many people as possible to get out in the first ship, and if anyone is left behind, which I don’t plan on allowing to happen, it’ll be me, and the rest of the Marines.” Not the kids, never the kids.
“Right, then we leave you guys here, get the rest out. My ship, not yours. Think you can fly her without me?” Stone stepped closer, not enough to be classed as a full intimidation move, but close enough for government work.
She didn’t flinch, refused to move, and forced her voice to remain level. “We haven’t made any decisions except the fact we’re not leaving the civilians behind. If you want to be involved in the plans, you’d be wise to remember the agreement to follow my orders. Unless you want a second bruise to match the first.” She shouldn’t have hit him, no matter the provocation.
Stone unconsciously reached up and touched the bruise on his cheek. “Lucky shot.”
Did he want to be drawn into the middle of a fight, in front of the others? “Arrogant asshole. We’ve got enough work to deal with here, and you want to pick another fight? Waste energy which would be better used to plan out our route, and get the kids out of here.”
“Hey, you’re the one who brought up hitting me again. I’m just taking you up on the offer.”
“He’s pissed because I called him out,” a woman in her early twenties wandered over.
Cora tried to place the face. She’d seen this one before, not among the survivors but before the attack. She hunted through the information, details she’d stored away in the back of her mind. A store, dealing in an interesting mix of supplies. A few legal, others not so much. “Duncan’s daughter? Salla?”
A smile brightened her face. “Yes.”
“Duncan?”
“Taken, but this one told me there’s a chance he might be alive. You’ve seen prisoners?”
“In a cage, I couldn’t make out features, but by the shapes, it held men, women, and children, all alive and still moving in the confinement cell.” Had Duncan or anyone else she knew been in it? Or were they among the dead? Her heart sank at the thought. Snap out of it, Sergeant. This is work, grieve later. “We’ll get them back. All of them, but first we have to focus on getting you and the others to safety. We can’t risk a rescue mission until you, and the rest of the survivors are far away from here.” If such a thing as safety existed, she’d find it. But they were still facing more trouble than she was willing to admit to in front of the group. Who knew how many ships were out there? The information shared by Stone had been vague, and since the initial attack, there’d been no means of communication between themselves and the base. If anyone still lived, they’d either be fighting for their lives or in hiding.
Stone didn’t speak, but his dark gaze followed her every move.
Damn man, if he didn’t accept how things worked sooner or later, she’d be forced to teach him a lesson the hard way. If they had the time. Which they didn’t.
She swore under her breath before she allowed herself a moment to meet his gaze. “Did you get the supply lists?”
“No. She decided not to hand it over after our talk.”
“So, you were being your normal charming self. Got it.” rolling her eyes was such a teen thing to do, yet the urge nagged at her as she chained it away in its box. “Salla? You have a copy for me?”
“For you, sure. That one, no chance. Only reason he’d want one is to see if there’s anything he can steal.”
“Trade.”
“Same thing,” Salla replied.
She ignored the protest. “Appreciated.” Cora transferred the list to her datapad. “I’ll need time to go through this, and we’ve got to locate other possible forms of transport to get us all off this rock.” If it was possible. Remaining on Pluto when the colony had been all but destroyed, wasn’t an option she wanted to investigate.
“And if you don’t find anything else, you’re planning on sacrificing yourself and your men to allow this lot a chance at survival. Well, I hope they have another pilot among them. Otherwise, they’re stuck even if you do find another ship.”
Her jaw set. “You forget, we have Harvard.”
“And you’ll need more than that Navy waste of space.”
“I can pilot for them,” Salla suggested.
“You’re a kid,” Stone growled.
“I’m twenty-two. My Dad had me in the co-pilot’s seat ten years ago.” Her eyes narrowed as she shot Stone a disgusted glare. “I can pilot the Ajax. But I’m not leaving until I find out about my Dad. He could be alive.”
The Ajax. Where did she know the name from? “Understandable.” Damnit, they needed another pilot. The Ajax was a big ship, and she’d already mentally assigned Harvard to Stone’s vessel, in case the man decided to do a runner, or worse. “Anyone else you know, who can do the job?”
“The Ajax? Where the hell did your Dad pick that hunk of junk up?”
“Does it matter? And it might have been a junker once, but he’s repaired it. Looks like new. Or close to it.” Salla shot a smug look at Stone. “And this one doesn’t know it all. He doesn’t claim the colony as home. Doesn’t claim a real home anywhere except his blasted ship.”
Cora filed the detail away. People without a home had little to fight for.
“There are a couple here who could handle it, they’re younger than me but skilled. Not my Dad’s level of ability. Enough to get you off planet.”
But could they avoid being shot down, or boarded? It was a risk she had to take. “Who are they?”
“Lukas and Dianne,” she gestured in the direction of a knot of teenagers. “Lukas is the better pilot on a technical level. Dianne has sharper instincts. Put the two together, and you’ll have it covered.”
Kids. Flying the escape craft. Why was she thinking of doing this? They were barely more than children, and shouldn’t have the pressure of escaping Pluto on their shoulders. But what other option did she have?
“How big is it?”
“The Ajax? Should be able to hold twenty people in comfort. Thirty at a push... Decent shields, if we stay close to the surface, we should scrape under their sensors.”
“You mean hug the planet? A kid like you?” Stone shook his head. “You’re not old enough to have enough practice with something as dangerous as planet skimming. I doubt there are a dozen pilots on the edge who know how to skim Pluto without painting their remains across this rock.”
“Not like you haven’t done it before. And Dad taught me how to avoid most scans, and put me through enough practice runs t
o be certain I could handle any situation where I’d need to slide under the radar.”
“Alright. Skimming the surface is a possibility.” Not a good one, but she’d take what they could get. Cora mentally counted the men, women, and children in the group. Too many, unless they used Stone’s ship they’d never be able to get everyone off planet. If they found more survivors, then the problem would increase. Last thing she wanted was to lose any of the current survivors, bad enough they’d said goodbye to Gunny, at least the man had died doing something he loved. This lot, they were civilians, lost, frightened, but willing to act together as a unit.
She scrubbed one and through her hair, grateful she kept it short. “It’s an idea, and better than nothing. Thanks. I’ll talk with them, and Stone, see what we can put together.”
Stone grunted, and she refused to turn toward him. If the man had a problem, they’d discuss it later. Away from the others. Perhaps he was right about the planet skimming, but it was another option, and there were mines, small settlements, and tunnels with bolt holes, away from the main colony. Had they been hit? If not, would the aliens continue to ignore them due to the lack of heavy weapons? Information, never enough at hand in a situation like this.
A heavy rumble rolled through the ground. Vibrations shocked a path up her legs as more than a dozen survivors reached for a handhold or post to keep them upright. Rock and plastiboard cracked above, around and beneath them.
“Mama!” A child’s trembling scream split the air. “Mama.” Dust filled the air, small pieces of debris clattered down, and the ground shuddered. “MAMA.”
Cora struggled to remain on her feet. The child, she had to find a way to help the toddler. Without thinking, she darted across the room, her gaze sweeping the area for signs of damage. The crack overhead widened, but not enough to open the room to the eyes of the aliens. If they had eyes. She hadn’t been close enough to them to be certain.