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Authors: John G. Hemry

Tags: #Science Fiction

Stark's Command (35 page)

BOOK: Stark's Command
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Her eyes flashed defiance. "These slime aren't."

He stepped close, matching her gaze. "They're soldiers. They did their job. These particular guys didn't commit any atrocities that I know of. Do you? Then treat them like we want our own people treated if they get captured in the future."

Stacey didn't flinch. "Nobody needs to know what happens to these."

"I'll know." Stark let the two words hang there between them, a challenge and a reminder, as Yurivan held her glare a few seconds longer.

"All right," she finally spat. "It'll be legal, but," she added with another glare full of promise at the prisoners, "just barely."

Stark stepped close enough to speak softly. "Scare them all you want, but remember, we want them to talk. If we get them to spill their guts we can do a lot of damage to whoever sent them here."

"Yeah." Her teeth showed in something that wasn't a smile. "Yes, sir," she added louder. "I'll do that."

Stark fought down a grim smile as her words brought a glimmer of anxiety to the otherwise stoic faces of the prisoners.
Let them guess what I whispered to her. A little fear of God and Stacey Yurivan might get some results.
"Let me know how it goes." The walls of the headquarters complex still felt alien as he walked back to the Command Center, passing small groups of soldiers with expressions of anger and shock on their faces. "Get to work, people," Stark commanded. "We need to clean this place up. Fix the damage. Get ready to get even." Heads nodded, hands saluted, and the world went on.

Vic awaited him in the Command Center, sitting in one corner, her face expressionless. "The shuttle got away. Wise-man couldn't catch it before it got far enough out to be covered by the big warships. She said she singed its tail-feathers, but that's all."

"That's okay. There's been enough killing today."

"Murphy'll probably live."

"Probably?" Stark felt his blood chill.

"He was shot up real bad. They've got him stabilized for now in medical, but his body took a helluva lot of damage. You know how it is. Technically, the docs should be able to patch someone up if there's anything at all left, but the body just gives out." She glanced directly at Stark, quirking a small smile. "The medic I talked to complained that they'd just fixed Murphy up and you were already sending him back."

"At least I know which medic it was. She should be able to save Murph if anyone can."

"Maybe. I think his heart took a bigger hit than his other organs."

Stark covered his face with both hands, blocking out the world. "No question," he finally agreed, slowly lowering his hands once again. "Robin was a good kid, Vic. Murphy's a good kid. They deserved a chance together."

"People don't always get what they deserve."

"I know. God, I know. Does Murphy know she's dead?"

"Dunno. He's not in any shape for talking, so it depends whether Murphy knew before he got shot up."

So maybe I gotta tell him. Sweet Jesus, why?
"Civs aren't supposed to die," he finally whispered.

"No, they're not." Vic rose slowly, then came to stand beside him, hand on his shoulder. "It's part of our job description, and it still hurts like hell when we lose a friend. I guess when she decided to date a soldier she took on the negative side of things along with the positive."

"I warned her. But I thought it'd be about danger to Murphy. Not her." He glanced up speculatively. "It hurts you, too?"

"Of course it hurts me."

"But she was just a civ."

Vic glared down, eyes narrowing. "Okay. She was a civ. But she was our civ. She treated us decent, and she liked Murphy, and she died alongside us."

"That's right," Stark agreed, his tone unusually mild. "She died alongside us. Like an ally."

"Like an ally." Vic shook her head, then nodded wearily. "Yeah. A good ally. All right, Ethan. You were right all along. We and the civs up here are on the same side, and some of them are worth trusting. I guess their actions tonight proved it. Too bad Robin Masood had to die to make us see that."

"To make some of us see that, anyway," Stark noted, earning himself another glare. "At least she didn't die in vain, then. It meant something. It accomplished something."

"I'm sure that'll be a great comfort to Murphy."

Stark hung his head, feeling pain radiating from his entire body. "I gotta be there for him."

Vic's arm came around his head, cradling it for a moment. "Sorry. Sorry. Shouldn't have said that. Not your fault."

"Whose is it, then?"

"Whoever ordered this. Come on, soldier, let's get to work. There's a lot to do."

"Yeah." He followed her, walling off the pain behind a barrier of constant tasks large and small, knowing the barrier could only contain it and never make it go away.

Sometime later, as the artificial human day swung toward its close, Stark sat in his quarters, body worn out, brain still numb. "Commander?"

"Here." Security Central was mostly functional again. The attackers had been forced to leave most of its equipment intact so the worm would have time to work, and Stark's people had been able to deactivate the timed charges left behind before they could turn the whole place into wreckage.

"There's a visitor for you. A civilian."

"Who?"

"She says her name is Cheryl Sarafina."

Stark winced, then nodded silently to himself. "Let her in. Send her to my room." A short while later, Sarafina entered, ducking her head to avoid looking straight at Stark, before finally raising it so he could see her reddened eyes. "Pardon my interruption, Sergeant Stark."

"No problem. It's been a real bad day. Would you like to sit down? Can I get you anything?"

"No. No." Sarafina reached into her pocket, surfacing with a small object. "I was cataloging Robin Masood's possessions, and thought, perhaps, you might want to keep this." Her hand opened. A short, fat little figurine. Ridiculous smile, seemingly mocking, now. The paca Robin's mother had given her. A generation ago, the odd toys called pacas had been a fad. Stark's mother had owned one, too, like many other women.

He had last seen this paca when he visited Robin Masood's home and talked about the military with Sarafina and Masood. The paca had reminded him of his mother then, helping him to form an immediate if irrational bond with the civ women.

Stark shut his eyes for a moment, unable to bear the sight. "That was from her mother. It oughta go back to her."

"It seemed to mean something to you—"

"It does, but it ain't mine."

"I think she wanted you to have it. She mentioned a few times how you'd enjoyed seeing it."

He reached out slowly, touching the absurd little figurine. "Tell you what, I'll take it for now. But when Murphy gets better, I'll ask if he wants it. Okay?"
Murphy'll get better. Murphy'll survive. Just keep telling myself that.

"Private Murphy? Of course. Ahhh, Sergeant." Sarafina blinked rapidly, wiping at the corners of her eyes with her fingers. "Why do such things happen to such people?"

"Because the Universe ain't fair, and even if it was, human beings would be in charge of this part of it, and they'd screw it up. I'm real sorry, Ma'am. If there's anything . . ." Stark's voice trailed off helplessly.

"Thank you, but you cannot bring the dead to life. Sergeant Stark, I must tell you, there has been much ambivalence in the Colony. Colony Manager Campbell told you of this. What should we do, how far should we press our cause, should we ally ourselves with the military you command." Sarafina's voice hardened. "That is gone. Robin was known by many, and well-liked. Her death has shocked everyone. The methods used by the authorities back home, hiring foreign military forces to attack us, to kill our own citizens!"

"They're kinda short of American ground troops right now."

"That is little excuse, and if Americans had been used it would have been even worse. No, Sergeant Stark, only a small minority of the Colony's inhabitants now still wants to place our trust in the authorities. Sentiment is hardening for a complete break."

"What does that mean?"

"A declaration of independence." Sarafina must have seen reflected on Stark's face the reaction her words generated inside him. "I know. It is such a major decision, to break ties with our country, even in the face of such provocations. Perhaps our leaders back on Earth will come to their senses even yet. Neither Mr. Campbell nor I are comfortable with such an extreme step at this time, but speaking for the citizens of the Colony I can now say we shall stand by you, together with you. For Robin's memory."

"Thanks." Stark turned the little paca in his hand, looking down at it with an exhausted sense of emptiness. "Funny how we'll do things for people after they're dead that we wouldn't do for them while they're still alive."

 

"The prisoners aren't talking," Vic informed him crisply, "and their battle armor systems all contained kamikaze watchdogs designed to wipe their programming. Stacey Yurivan's people have been able to recover enough fragments of the Tactical files to sketch a picture of their plan, though." She angled her display screen so Stark could view it. "Just like we saw on the sensor records, the primary objective was right there. The Commanding General's suite."

Stark frowned. "They expected to find me there, huh?"

"Right. You and me."

"What? It was the middle of the night. Why'd they think you'd be in there with me?"

Vic glared at him, plainly exasperated. "Ethan."

"Oh." For some reason, the innuendo amused him. "They know something about us I don't?"

"If they do, I don't know it either. Anyway, they apparently thought you lived there."

Stark made a face. "Too damn big and luxurious. You know that."

"You work in there sometimes," Vic pointed out.

"Pretty rarely, but it does have a nice desk and great comms." He thought about it, rubbing his chin, feeling stubble he hadn't remembered to shave off this day. "Did they guess I was using that place, or did someone see me working there and tell them that's where I lived?"

"Don't know. We'll have to find out, and if they were told, find out who that someone was."

Stark eyed the screen, his face grim. "So it was a decapitation raid. They wanted to take out our leadership. But decap raids are supposed to knock the enemy off-balance just before you hit them with an attack. Where's the follow-up?"

"I think this raid was always intended as a stand-alone." Reynolds sigh heavily, then glowered at Stark. "Ethan, if I've told you once I've told you a million times. You hold all this together. Nobody else is trusted enough among the ranks to function as commander. If they'd succeeded in blowing you away, they probably figured the rest of us would fall apart."

He thought about that, too. "I guess I'm pretty important."

"Duh! Hello, Ethan! Are the lights on in there yet?" Vic subsided, shaking her head. "So now you're going to be more careful? Finally?"

"No." Stark held up his hands to forestall another outburst. "Look, Vic, these apes trust me because they know I'll lead them. Okay, maybe that's not the only reason, but it's a big part. If I'm hiding down in a bunker, I'm not leading." He paused. "Besides, it's like leading my Squad, isn't it? You can't let the troops know you're scared, 'cause that'll scare them. I gotta be out in front."

Vic sat silent, her eyes closed for a long moment before they reopened and focused on him. "I can't argue with that, I guess. We have to keep you alive, but we also have to risk you. Why can't any of this be simple?"

"Because people are involved. So," Stark continued, "then those raiders hit the Command Center."

"Uh-huh. Apparently they were supposed to reinforce the two we found in there, trash the place, then bug out in the confusion. At least that's what they were told according to their Tacs. I don't see where they'd actually have had much chance to fight their way out."

"Nah. Not a big chance, but it might've worked," Stark conceded. "They were good, they had total surprise, they'd messed up our systems. We were lucky."

"Luck's a good word for it." Vic stabbed a finger at part of the display. "Though we have to thank the civs for the alarm that alerted us. The attackers had our internal codes so none of our sensors alerted us. But the sentry occupying Sentry Post Four got a warning off anyway." She glanced at Stark. "He was fairly new and apparently took the warning seriously when it was passed on earlier in the evening."

"Good thing I didn't blow it off."

"Yeah. And good thing the sentry was green enough not to blow off the warning you ordered passed." She paused. "I wouldn't have paid attention to it, Ethan. No veteran would've. I'd have just told the civs to leave us alone."

"I paid attention," Stark reminded her. "But you're right. My first instinct was to say 'yeah, sure, go away.' "

"Why didn't you?"

"Maybe because I've worked with the civs up here enough to know them personally. That makes a difference. Maybe because I grew up civ and know every civ is different, and most are decent human beings once they get to know us, too, and realize we're not players in some vid game." He remembered the old movie about the attack on the harbor. "Also maybe because I wasted part of my youth watching vids."

Her eyebrows rose skeptically. "Are you saying I should've watched more vids when I was growing up?"

"As long as they were the right ones. Anyway, these civs are on our team, Vic. They're learning to work with us. This victory, if you wanta call our surviving this attack a victory, is probably because the civs worked with us. We gotta learn to work with them."

Vic looked vaguely annoyed. "I know. Just one more anthill kicked over by Ethan Stark. I guess I can't get used to the idea of being in debt to the civs, though."

"Think of it as a payback for all they owe us." Stark thought a moment longer, focusing back on the details of the raid. "I guess the sentry at Post Four died anyway?"

"Oh, yeah," Vic nodded. "Never had a chance. But he did last long enough to sound the alert and delay the attack a few moments, which gave Security Central time to get a call out for reinforcements." She indicated another part of the headquarters schematic. "Even with that, we still needed a piece of luck named Corporal Gomez. Her and the Mendozas' resistance in this hall stopped a big part of the raider force from sweeping in to reinforce the groups that were hitting us."

BOOK: Stark's Command
6.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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