Conquest of Earth (Stellar Conquest Series) (8 page)

Slowly, slowly their point of view sank toward the blue surface of Earth, dodging lasers and railgun bullets. The glow of atmospheric friction crept in from the edges of the viewport, and moments later they plunged into the waters of the western Pacific. “I’ve brought us down near the Marianas Trench, and that’s where we’re –”

Then the clean, comfortable simulation shattered, and Spooky found himself naked and immobilized inside his biogel coffin. He almost threw up as his body and mind tried to reject the transition and crawl back into a place that wasn’t there anymore.

Whatever happened must have been severe, even catastrophic. Only Ezekiel or
Roger
knew, but Spooky wasn’t about to just lie here like cake in a pan. Scrabbling with his hand, he found the large biomechanical pushplate and shoved on it with all four fingertips.

In response, living probes withdrew from all of his orifices and the coffin he was in opened to vomit him out onto the warm, living deck. Rolling over and coughing effluvium, he crawled to the largest coffin nearby and began to pound on it, his fist making meaty smacks.

Whether from his efforts or something Bogrin did, the enclosure split, revealing the half-ton Sekoi inside and repeating the procedure that had ejected Spooky. A moment later, the two stood, looking at each other.

“Well, friend,” Bogrin said, his real voice rough in the moist air, “we live.”

“For the moment,” Spooky replied. “I’d feel a lot better if I knew what was going on. Is
Roger
injured? Should we try to wake Ezekiel?”

“As Blend, I monitor some of
Roger
’s sensations. I believe laser struck water above us as we descended into ocean, flash-boiling it. Ship is in pain, but will recover. Cannot maintain VR space for us. We must wait.”

How did I get here?

“I’ve got a gurney, Major ben Tauros, if you’ll just hold still.” The doctor signaled two telefactors, which quickly and precisely lifted Bull’s half-conscious frame onto the rolling bed. “You’re back aboard, and you’re going to the infirmary.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, and then his head seemed to swell up like a balloon and his eyes went fuzzy. “Just hungry.”

“No, you’re not fine,” the doctor said firmly, walking alongside for a few steps as the machines carted him away. “You’re concussed, you have stress fractures running throughout your body, and half your cybernetics are burnt out. If not for your support systems you’d be dead. Now just stay horizontal and hope for no brain damage. Not that anyone would notice.” Horton muttered this last.

“I heard that,” Bull mumbled, then let himself fade from consciousness as the gurney stabbed him with a needle.

***

Sergeant Major Repeth traded looks with Horton as she stepped out of her own armor onto the deck. “We got nine or ten other bad ones, Doc,” she said as two armored Marines carried a third one in. “Set her on the deck,” Repeth ordered, then keyed in the standard code to crack the armor. It opened along the seams like a split lobster tail, allowing the medical bots to lift the injured Marine out and place her on another gurney. A dozen more automated beds waited behind with perfect patience, their trauma arms ready to help stabilize the casualties.

“This one is expectant,” Horton said, peering down at the remains of a man inside another battered set of armor. “Vitals are flat, no brainwave. Record TOD at…1223.40 hours.”

Repeth stared at the remains of Corporal Salen, remembering his ready smile as he spotted for her in the gym.
Another good kid gone because of the Meme and their lust for domination.
She hoped losing half the company had been worth it.

Moving on down the line, she helped Horton and two medics with the rest of the casualties, paying special attention to the five Ryss. All of these had been severely wounded and left behind by their own. Amazingly, all had survived.
Tough critters,
Repeth thought. None of those that had made it through to the Weapon had lived, but the HUD network had recorded Slash’s last moments before he blew the nuke.

Someone grabbed Jill from behind and she almost clocked him before she saw it was Rick. Burying herself in his arms for a moment, she fought back tears, saving them for later.

“This is the worst part, isn’t it?” he said. “But I’m glad it isn’t you in the infirmary.”

“Or worse, you mean?” Repeth shook her head to dry her eyes. “Ultimate liability clause in every Marine contract. You know that.”

“I do, but I’m selfish enough to be happy you didn’t cash out. Come on, let’s go get a drink.”

“I have to –” She gestured at her armor and the Marines sufficiently unhurt to walk away from their own.

“Let the bots tend to the armor. Gunderson can shepherd the troops.”

“No. It doesn’t work like that. I make sure all of my people are taken care of before I’m off duty. And I need to go see Bull.” Repeth saw a flash of something very like jealousy cross behind Rick’s eyes, but right then she didn’t care.

“All right,” Rick said with more than a hint of chill in his voice. “When you’re all done, I’ll be around somewhere.” He stalked away, shaking off her hand.

“Trouble in paradise?” Master Sergeant Gunderson said from her elbow.

Turning, Repeth punched the man in his meaty chest hard enough to stagger him. “Shut your cake-hole, you prick. When I want lip from you, I’ll beat it out of you,” she snarled.

“All right, all right,” he said with upraised hands and a triumphant smile. Needling her had been a favorite game of his ever since Repeth had spurned his advances back on Earth and she knew he’d just scored a point, but she didn’t care. Everyone seemed to want a piece of her and she really wasn’t in the mood.

“Since you’re untouched,” she said to Gunderson with venom, “you can do the debrief and put everyone not in the infirmary to bed. Have a full report in my queue by 1800. Then you can start a double guard shift on the brig. I’m going to check on the wounded.”

“There’s no one in the brig, Sergeant Major,” Gunderson said as his face fell.

“Then guard yourself. Just as long as you’re there and awake. I’ll be checking the logs.”

Gunderson looked sour and stayed silent.

“Acknowledge, Marine!” Repeth snapped.

“Aye aye, Sergeant Major!” Gunderson retorted, drawing himself to attention.

She left him standing there fuming, and then headed for the infirmary.

Later, Captain Absen waved her to a seat in his office after offering her a cigarette. She declined, waiting for him to light up.

He stared at the burning cancer stick in his hand for a moment. “You know, I rarely smoke, even though it’s not particularly risky anymore. I drink a little, I read a lot, I eat…and I work. That’s about it. Do you know why?”

Repeth thought furiously, wondering what her commander was getting at. She’d expected to give him a firsthand report as Bull usually did, not share some kind of moment. That was what officers were for – standing between her and the skipper. “No, sir, I don’t.”

“Good. Then probably no one else does either. Whiskey?” Absen reached for the bottle.

“All right, sir.” It seemed impolite to decline both offers of shared luxury, so she took the glass and sipped at the smoky liquor.

“So this Blend. Leslie Denham, she calls herself?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you believe her?”

“That she’s who she says she is? Tentatively, yes.” Repeth felt on much firmer ground now, discussing work. “The other Blend that took a shot at her, the one who calls himself Brand, wasn’t playing around and had no way of knowing my response would be nonlethal. Blends aren’t big on self-sacrifice, so that is a point in her favor. Also, she just…feels right.”

“I’m going to interview her, but I wanted your impression. Anything else that will help me?”

Repeth sighed. “I didn’t know Raphaela had more children. Ezekiel never said anything to me and I’ve been on several missions with him. I can’t think of any reason to keep a secret like that for so many years.”

“OPSEC. Need to know.” Absen shrugged. “I guess for now I’ll have to accept Bannum’s and your judgment. I’ve put out an encrypted broadcast for Ezekiel to contact us, but heard nothing. They either didn’t get the transmission or are maintaining EMCON for now. Either way, we’re on our own.”

“One thing I did think of,” Repeth said. “Blends are rumored to be able to influence people if they can touch them – probably some kind of biochemical mind control. But it’s highly unlikely a Blend can influence an AI.”

“Good thinking. Michelle?”

“Yes, Captain?” came Conquest’s voice from the speaker in the overhead.

“Escort Leslie Denham here, will you? And make sure she stays under full surveillance at all times.”

“Yes, sir. Five minutes.”

When the door opened and the woman in yellow stepped in ahead of Michelle’s avatar, Absen stood up involuntarily. On the vidscreen Leslie had reminded him of her mother Rae, but in person it was déjà vu all over again. The force of her personality, her presence and poise, brought long-buried feelings to the surface so strongly that he excused himself abruptly to the cabin’s head behind him. Inside, he flushed the toilet as an excuse, splashed water on his face, and composed himself in the mirror before stepping back out, pointedly wiping his hands on a clean white towel.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Leslie said before Absen could speak. “I’ve seen you many times in pictures and records, of course. All of my brothers and sisters have.” She did not hold out her hand; neither did Absen.

“How many brothers and sisters?” Absen asked, sitting down at his desk.

“I am one of a set of quads, two boys and two girls, and then there’s Ezekiel, whom you know.”

“Rae had no more children?” Absen inquired. For some reason, he felt the answer important to him.

“She considered it. Genetic material from my father was available – is still available, I presume – but she never did. I don’t know why.” Leslie cocked her head knowingly. “Ah.”

Absen ignored this gesture and its implication. “So where is your mother?”

A smile leaked from Leslie’s lips. “You care.”

“I care very much. If anyone survived to coordinate a resistance movement, it would have been her, and you confirmed that with your actions. Now stop playing games and tell me what I need to know.”

“My, my. Touchy, aren’t we?”

Absen kept tight check of his emotions, reminding himself that the current population of Earth system did not necessarily see him as the supreme commander of anything. Not everyone would give him the easy deference he was used to. “Ms. Denham, I see you’ve become accustomed to your position in the Meme hierarchy. I’m wondering if you’ve bought into the Empire’s elitism even as you worked to undermine it. While you are no doubt very capable, that yellow tunic doesn’t mean the same thing in a free society – or in EarthFleet.”

“Meaning I’ll have to earn my way all over again?”

“Meaning you’ll go farther without that bitchy air of smug superiority. If you really are as smart as you seem to think you are, you’ll condescend less and help more even if it’s only out of self-interest.” Absen’s eyes bored into Leslie’s until finally she dropped them with a graceful dip of her head.

“As you say, Captain. I apologize. What can I do to
help
?”

“I’d really like to contact your mother.”

“Unfortunately she’s on Earth, as far as I know. The last time I heard from her she was in Ulan Bator. For security, we only communicate occasionally, through cutouts and drops. If you want to talk to her, you’ll have to wait for her to contact you…or you can skip that part and free Earth.”

Absen sighed. “That’s my goal, but I had hoped…never mind. You’ll have to do. First, how likely are other Blends to rebel?”

“They will not, unless the Empire has clearly already lost the fight. They are too young to be bored with their power and privilege.”

“That’s what I’ve been told. All right, what about the defense forces?”

Leslie rummaged in her pockets until she came up with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Sorry, all the Yellows smoke, and I had to
blend
in
,
ha
. I’ve become addicted.” She lit one and took a deep drag.

Absen glanced at Repeth with a twitch of his lips. “No problem. Defense forces?”

“They’re loyal enough on the surface, but we’ve made special efforts to penetrate them, so they are riddled with Skulls.”

“Skulls?”

“A nickname for resistance fighters. After my father.”

“Of course. So…I’m particularly interested in the heavy orbitals around Earth.”

Leslie paced a moment, leaning over Absen’s desk without comment to pick up the ashtray he had used earlier. “You’re wondering if they will turn against the Meme like the Sekoi did at Gliese 370.” She smiled at Absen’s clear surprise. “I was highly placed in the defense forces, Captain. I’ve studied your battles…all of them.”

“So will they turn?”

“I would have said no before you destroyed the Earth-facing Weapon, but now…if the right moment comes, our agents may be able to precipitate a mass defection, like they did here in the Jupiter system.”

“All right. That’s all I need from you for now. Michelle, take her down to be thoroughly debriefed by Fleede and his team. You sit in too. Make it exhaustive and detailed. He’ll love that.”

“Aye aye, Captain,”
Conquest
’s avatar replied.

“Captain,” Leslie asked as she ground out her cigarette, “we’ve waited a long time. It’s 2161. When are you going to free Earth?”

Absen stood. “Have patience, Ms. Denham. Aren’t Blends famous for it? Believe it or not, I’ve already started.”