Steel Walls and Dirt Drops (15 page)

Gan Forrester stepped back onto the skid plate shaking his head quietly. He saw Misha's reaction to Britaine and Jackson's reaction to the whole thing. Plus, he had mixed reactions of his own. It was true Misha was a young woman with needs; it shouldn't be anyone's business where she found comfort. Plus, it was Britaine's command. He could go anywhere on the spacecraft he wanted. But, didn't the man have enough sense than to show up here? He suddenly realized it would be up to Britaine's usual standards to deliberately start rumors about McPherson. Then when she failed at her first command, he would be justified in his previously stated opinion that she wasn't up to command standards.

Second Jackson shouted, "Get your mind on your job, Forrester."

"Roger that, Mr. Jackson. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be right
," Jackson bellowed. "The next exercise is a bitch. We power on our skid plates, lift off and hover, I repeat, we will hover. No one is to go above one inch over the deck; one inch, no more no less with no side-to-side movement. I have manual override logged in through my glass-pack on everyone's skid plates. Excess movement and you fail. I will ground you. This calls for serious muscle control on your part. Lift off now."

Forrester
tapped the up switch and rocked back slightly on his heels. The feeling was much the same as he had experienced in the tri wave sim earlier this morning. It wasn't so much feeling that the skid plate was moving, but that the skid plate was standing still and everything else was moving. He couldn't tell how high he was hovering. One inch was not very elevated and there were no shadows to give him a clue. He ducked his head quickly to see if he could gauge the distance. The skid plate slipped sideways with the movement. He banged into another trooper.

"Sorry. Sorry
," Forrester apologized. He steadied himself and tried to calm every muscle, demanding nothing move. He was out of position from where he started. Even so, as he eyed the rest of the rookies, he noticed a number of them were already grounded. The rest of his group was no longer in neat little rows. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Second Jackson gesturing wildly at a trooper whose skip plate was hovering about four feet up. He could barely hear Jackson as the second tapped his glass-pack, dropping the trooper to the deck with a crash.

Jackson shouted, "One inch. Get '
em down, you APES."

Forrester
thought he had been low. "Okay," he said to himself. "Lower. Ease it down until we are almost touching. Lower…lower…lower…" He felt a thump. He immediately thought he had gotten too low and bumped the deck, but then he realized he was laying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Ground '
em, now," Jackson yelled. "Sergeant Forrester, what the hell are you doing?"

"You know, Mr. Jackson
, I am not sure. It seemed like a good time to take a break."

Trooper Ramirez's face appeared over his own. "I am sorry, Sergeant."

"About what, young lady?"

Jackson guffawed, "'About what?' he ask
ed. Ramirez knocked you off your skid plate and then ran you over with hers. Get it back up, man. You've got to set an example for the rest of the children."

Ramirez stuck out her arm, "Hand up?"

"Well, thank you Trooper Ramirez," Forrester said. "But it seems that my arm isn't quite working up to normal parameters."

Ramirez knelt down next to him
and ran her fingers down his arm. When he winced with pain, she said. "Sorry, Sergeant Forrester. Damn, I’m a medic; I am supposed to fix people, not break them."

Second Jackson said, "Come on, you two. Play time later. Let's get to it."

"I broke his arm, Deuce," Ramirez said.

"Damn, Ramirez. Okay. Get him up and fix him up. You’re a med tech, right?"

Forrester looked up to see Misha approach. He smiled up at her.

Smil
ing back at Forrester she said, "I see that you have found a new way to mess up my training schedule."

"Yep
," Forrester said. "I thought maybe Trooper Ramirez needed additional time to practice her medical training."

Misha nodded. "Maybe so, but it looks to me like she needs more practice on her skid plate. Don't you agree
, Mr. Jackson?"

"I do indeed,
sir," Jackson replied.

"Gan, do you think you can survive a walk over to the Kiirkegaard's sick bay? Yes? Good. I will escort you myself. That would leave Deuce Jackson and Trooper Ramirez to their training. What
do you say?"

Forrester
found himself nodding. Ramirez helped him up by his other arm. He was surprised to find himself a bit dizzy.

"
I am sorry, again, Sergeant Forrester. I don't know what happened," Ramirez said.

"Not to worry,
Sheila. I'll heal, not as fast as you APES with your combat enhanced nanites, but I will heal." He turned to see Misha patting Jackson on the back and smiling.

"Good job, Jackson
," she said. "At least, when you broke one, it wasn't one of ours." Before the man could protest, she smiled. "Kidding, Race. I am only kidding. You are doing a great job. We don't have much time left and I can see you are making good progress with the time we have. You've got no complaints from me."

She turned to
Forrester. "Ready?"

Forrester
followed along behind her, but when he caught up with her in the hallway just beyond the hatch to the training bay, he said, "I can make this trip myself. I do know where I am going."

"That's all right, Gan. You make a good excuse for me to take a break without huffing and puffing in front of my troops."

Forrester tried to think of another way he could make the trip to sick bay on his own, but he was unable to come up with an excuse. He needed to make a trip to sickbay to meet with someone, but it would be difficult for him to touch base with his undercover contact if Misha was with him. Nothing came to mind. He would have to deal with things as he could.

Someone called to them as they stepped into the sick bay, "Sergeant Forrester, looks like you got a bit banged up. Playing out of your league?"

Forrester smiled wanly, "Dr. Dimms, I believe you have met Third McPherson."

Dr. Dimms smiled, "Why yes, I believe we met when you
first came aboard, didn't we?"

Misha nodded. "Yes,
sir, and we met again at the Colonel's table."

"Well, McPherson.
First, you take on an AMSF commander and then you physically abuse a sergeant in the Allied Marshal Service. What's next, a full-scale assault on your own troops?" Dimms asked.

"Enough, Puke
," Forrester said. "It wasn't her fault. I wasn't paying attention and got my arm broke. It is my own fault. Misha was just polite enough to escort me here. So, can you fix me or not?"

"Sure, sure. Don't get your skivvies in a twist
. I'll get someone to fix you right up. Rezzi, front and center. Busted arm from the looks of it." Rezzi was a very small woman with large dark eyes, olive skin and black shiny hair.

"Come on, Puke
," Forrester said. "You’re the doctor, can't you fix it? Nothing personal, young lady, no offense." He smiled at Rezzi.

"None taken,
sir. Doctor, I do have all of those HQ reports that have to be re-initialized and encrypted," Rezzi replied.

"Nonsense
," Dimms said. "Medical Technician Staff Sergeant Jèsusa Rezzi is one of the best we've got. There is nothing I can do for a broken arm that she can't." Dimms left before anyone else could get a word in.

Forrester
smiled at Rezzi. "Well, I guess it is just you and me, doll."

Rezzi laughed, "Watch it
, old man. I could always set this arm crooked." She turned to Misha. "Thanks for bringing me my patient, but I can take it from here."

To
Forrester's dismay, Misha said, "I will stick around with Sergeant Forrester if you don’t mind. Just to make sure he is okay."

Rezzi said, "I can assure you that he is in good hands. I'll take care of him like he is one of my own."

"I can wait," Misha said with finality.

Forrester
smiled, "Okay, ladies. Let's not get in a catfight over me. There is enough of me to go around."

Misha laughed, "The hell you say. There isn't enough muscle on you to make a decent meal for a petite woman like myself."

Forrester laughed back, "Ah, so I see that your tastes do run to larger men. Say AMSF officers?"

Rezzi looked up from her work and frowned.

Misha missed the look on Rezzi's face as the blood rushed to her own face. She tried to turn away, but Forrester grabbed her with his good hand.

"Sorry, Misha
," he said. "That was a bad joke."

"Not funny, Gan. I told you nothing was going on between Britaine and m
e. Besides," she glanced quickly at Rezzi, then back to Forrester, "this is not the appropriate forum to discuss that anyway."

Rezzi said, "Don't mind me, I am only the help. I do my work and do my time. What goes on in
officer country is for others with better minds than mine to decipher."

“See there, Misha,” Gan said. “It is just as if we were alone. Anyway, if Britaine isn’t interested…or interesting, what was he doing watching you work out in the training bay?”

"I didn't say he wasn't interested," Misha said. "I am just telling you that nothing is going on. You'll have to ask him if you want to know what he was doing watching APES train."

"Well, he wasn't watching
APES train, Misha. He was watching you. Besides, I don't hear you saying you aren't interested in him."

"Gan, it is a good thing you are already in sick bay, because you are about two seconds away from needing more medical attention
," Misha said.

"Whoa, people
," Rezzi said. "I just fixed the one broken arm. Let's not have any more."

Surprised,
Forrester said, "Done?"

"Yep, all fixed.
It should be solid in about four days so don’t stress it too much. Now get out of my sick bay. I've got real work to get done."

Chapter
Twenty

"Hey, vacuum head!" Trooper Dashell, the Foxtrot Squad med tech called out. "Have I got a deal for you!"

The spacer looked up from the counter.
"What, APEShit? You don't got nothing that I need. Besides you got your own supplies. You don't need to be dipping into the Kiirkegaard's medical storage."

"Nah,
it is not that kind of a deal, junior." Dashell said. "I hear that you've got a box of Orion Confed blue smokes?"

"Yeah, so what? They ain't illegal, just hard to come by."

"I know, I know," Dashell said. "I just thought we might make a trade."

"Yeah, like I said, you ain't got nothing I want."

Dashell smiled, "Leave us not be hasty. I hear that you might be in the market for Binder technology?"

The spacer looked up quickly.
"Well, I might be. What have you got?"

"A scythe; i
t is even battle chipped." Dashell said.

"Really?" The young man's eyes light up. "Maybe it is from Guinjundst?"

"Nah, I can't lie to you, kid," Dashell replied. "Nothing is coming from Guinjundst. Anybody tries to tell you different is a liar. Everything was quarantined, classified and sent to intelligence for review."

"Yeah
," the spacer said. "Everything but your new boss; I thought maybe she snuck something out."

"I doubt it. Security is pretty tight on that one. So do we have a deal?"

"Why not? If our bosses can get together, then I don't see why we can't."

"Yeah? What have you heard?"
Dashell asked.

"Well, just between us, I don't usually spread gossip. I got this first hand. I was delivering medical supplies to the sick bay. McPherson was in there with that
Marshal Sergeant. They were talking about Britaine. She blushed like a school girl every time he mentioned Britaine's name. I couldn't hear it all, but I did hear her say she was interested in him."

Able Squad's Trooper One Gates Singletary cursed just loud enough that only Park, Juarez and Slezak could hear him. Not that he cared. The only other APE in the squad bay was that whiner Steinman.

"Come on Steinman. Move it! Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Juarez yelled across the squad bay.

"Shut up, Miguel," Slezak said. "For all we know that little weasel will run straight to the bitch."

"He won't if h
e knows what's good for him," replied Park. "Besides, what would he have to tell her? That we are talking loud. Wooooo, I'm scared."

Slezak said, "All right for you,
dipwad. But, I am under house arrest, remember? I ain't supposed to be out of my box. You might get a slap on the wrist for talking to me, but, I would get put in the stockade."

Singletary nodded. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Zip it up all of you." He shook his head. "Damn
, I hate these combat jump lock downs. They always give me a headache."

"Yeah, you and every other creature with human DNA.
Quit’cher bitchin’," Park said. "We ain't got much time."

"Yeah, all right
," Singletary agreed.

Singletary thought that i
t has been a long lockdown for such a short jump. The AMSF bastards decided to use these jumps to practice combat entry into a simulated battle. All he knew about it was that it required all personnel to be strapped into their stations. For the APES, this meant they were strapped into their bunks with the blast shutters in place. The engines pushed to the maximum speed in normal space; then without warning the spacecraft would snap into sub-space, spin and roll for twenty or thirty minutes, and snap back into ordinary space. Since it was a combat insertion and might mean a high probability of enemy presence, the flight crew would run a computer-generated random flight pattern that would cause the spacecraft to tumble, twist and turn just barely within the limits of the inertial dampers and anti-gravity systems. For an AMSF squadron or wing combat insertion, multiple spacecraft computers linked into a real-time network to avoid collision with the friendly spacecraft. The flight crew would retake control only after the automated targeting systems assessed any possible enemy presence.

"Now with this damn headache that bitch McPherson got us volunteered to stand at AMSF stations
," Singletary complained. "I quit the AMSF because I hated standing station on spacecraft."

Park smiled, "Hell, Gates.
There ain’t nobody here but us chickens. We all know you left the AMSF one step ahead of a court-martial because you were running their quarter master's supply room like your personal garage sale."

Slezak nodded, "Yeah. You got to agree that the
APES let you scrounge a bit more creatively-"

"Or at least, Cans did
," Juarez interrupted, seeing the look of irritation on Singletary's face. "McPherson seems to have a different attitude. And anyway, how the hell did she get Britaine to agree to us standing watch? Everybody knows he thinks ground troops are a waste of military spending."

Slezak nodded, "All I can say is she must be better in the rack than Vark.
I can't imagine it, but it must be true."

"The word
is he refused her request the first time on us standing stations and she had to ask him twice. But, it doesn't matter how," Singletary said. "Maybe we can use this time creatively, push for a few contacts to replenish our lost stock. Since we are only getting assigned as bottom-rung assistants on the first watch, we'll have to be careful. First watch is where all of their best crew gets put. Some of those guys are pretty gung-ho and on the up-and-up so watch yourselves. That bitch McPherson may have dumped our inventory, but she didn't take us out of the game, got me?"

Everyone nodded their agreement.

Singletary continued. "Miguel, I hear that Dashell from Foxtrot made a new trade contact in the med storeroom. Talk to him and see what the deal is, find out if we can get in on whatever he has cooking. And Jem Li, your old AMSF station was fighter bay maintenance. I know you’ve got some side connections with Ivanov and Jacobis over there. Push 'em on whatever inventory we can turn for them, got it? And Aimee, dear stupid little Aimee."

"Ah, come on, Gates. Get off my back
," Slezak said.

"In a
tri wave sim? What the hell were you thinking? Never mind. We can't do a thing about it now. You'll probably get down checked for this upcoming op, but she can't make any serious charges stick. She might force a transfer on you after that. Shit, if you had been a bit smarter, we could have used you to get some cameras dropped into a couple of the AMSF women's bays. I never understood why those prudes separate the sexes and then build special private comfort rooms to let them get back together. Anyway, I got a guy in the AMSF who would pay big bucks for the right pictures of the right female spacer, or you could have got some of your AMSF girlfriends to do some amateur porn gigs for us. Never mind, it’s a done deal, just get back in your box."