Steel Walls and Dirt Drops (24 page)

Misha looked at Singletary
again. "Trooper, you seem to have an interest in this issue. I will ask you: do you think it might be advantageous to have a Marshal's Service sergeant owe you a favor?"

Singletary smiled and nodded. "Yes,
sir, it would be a better thing for some of us than for others."

"True, Trooper. Now,
sit your can on the deck. No, not you Putinova, we still have your questions on deck."

"Um, that's okay,
sir. I think I understand now," Putinova said. She glanced nervously at Second Aardmricksdottir.

"Thank you, Putinova, but we will hear the answers none-the-less
. Shall we?" Misha asked with mock sweetness, that fooled no one. "This is an open Q&A. I’m sure Second Aardmricksdottir will not hold your questions against you. Seconds will not punish any honestly asked question. I emphasize honest. Do we need to hear your recorded questions again? Or do you trust my memory? Okay. Question two: 'shouldn't it be ours to use?' Question three: 'maybe we could share it on a rotating basis?' Both are good and valid questions, Trooper.

Misha continued,
"Question Two: it is not ours to use. It’s mine to use or not, as I see fit. When, and only when we dirt drop, does it becomes ours. It then becomes the 1392nd mobile combat command center. Until then, it’s my office. Got me? Right now, I believe a good inter-service relationship is important at this juncture of the Binder War.”

She looked around the bay and
said, "Number three: we could indeed share it on a rotating basis. That’s an outstanding suggestion for future consideration. However, think about this. We have a deployment from Heaven's Gate to Altec that should take about nine days. Surely, you can contain yourselves for a week and a half. Prior to my taking command, many of you were deployed on or around Heaven's Gate for almost two months. I know from the 1392nd records most of you took advantage of private rooms on Heaven's Gate at one time or another." She looked pointedly at India Squad's Trooper One Aggie Raza. Raza had logged into a private room almost every night during the two-month downtime. Each night, it was with a different partner or partners. "Some, more times than others." Misha blushed at her own comment.

Trooper Raza smiled and winked back as she took a ribbing from some of her squad mates.

Misha said, "Also, our rookies had recent use of private rooms during transfers. Finally, in the time between our leaving Heaven's Gate and our arrival at Altec, more than ninety percent of you would have never gotten the use of that room, even if we started from the lift off on day one. Who would want to volunteer to be a part of that ninety percent?" She nodded at Putinova, who sat gratefully down on the deck. Misha still hadn't been able to explain herself as well as she had hoped.

She desperately wanted to
finish this session and go ask Sergeant Forrester what he might know about the events on Guinjundst. The man knew more than he was telling. A favor or two might loosen him up. Misha had a fleeting thought that if she were a different kind of person, she might sic Raza on him to shake some information loose. Still, she couldn't explain even to her own unit about what had happened on Guinjundst. Not yet anyway, APES command needed verification. She didn't know why the equipment and bodies she gathered on Guinjundst did not constitute valid confirmation, but that was not her call.

She
returned to her answer, hoping to clarify her comments. "A ten percent use rate of the day office is not a fair distribution. On top of which, I don't know how many of you would have the energy to do more than sleep there, even if you won a lottery." A ripple of laughter swept the room as Raza waved her hand vigorously." Misha smiled, "Raza excluded, I don't know how anyone would have found the energy for anything more strenuous than sleeping. I know I’ve been working your tails off since I got here trying to get this unit up to specs."

Beaudry
stood again amid groans from a dozen troopers. Misha understood their feelings, it was turning into a long day for everyone. She couldn't remember when she had last slept. People were tired, hot, sweaty, and a hard deck plate was not the most comfortable seat. Beaudry asked the question she was dreading to hear again. "Third, that brings us back to my earlier question, why aren't you down here working with us to get ready instead of hanging with your spacer friends, if you don't think we’re good enough?"

Second Aardmricksdottir stood with her hand up
to be recognized. Misha nodded to her.

"Asked and answered,
Beaudry," Aardmricksdottir said. "The Third said you were protected by honest questions, not by repeating a question you should have known the answer to in the first place."

Beaudry
whined, "Yeah, Deuce, but Able Squad isn't half together as some of the others."

Aardmricksdottir shouted, "Able
Squad is not your concern, Trooper. You're in my squad. That is Joker Squad. I have to rely on Trooper One Spakney to keep things moving when I’m working as the senior armor repair tech for the whole unit. Deuce Taks' Charlie Squad doesn't fall apart when he stops to cook for them because Gaineretti jumps in to take over. Third McPherson should be able to lean on Trooper One Singletary. Beaudry, suppose you ask Trooper One Singletary why Able Squad is not up to your expectations? Go ahead, dammit, ask him."

Beaudry
sat on the deck. He mumbled, "Never mind, sorry I asked."

Aardmricksdottir didn't want to let it go, but Misha waved her down.

"Other than questions about the upcoming dirt drop, does anyone have anything else to add? No? All right, you APES. We’re all more than a little tired and we only have a few hours before our next jump. I’m going to call for a general inspection within the hour.” There were more than a few grumbles echoing through the bay. "Sorry, people. Such is the life of a caged APE.”

"After the inspection, I want everybody on
a twelve-hour downtime. That’s everybody. Cooks included so toss out a pile of snack packs for anybody who gets hungry." She smiled at the loud cheer. "I am sorry to say any sack time will be interrupted by a combat insertion jump. I know I can't sleep through those things, so I realize that most of you can't either. Get strapped in if you do go down for sleep. We may not have much time to check each bunk for sleeping troops before the Kiirkegaard jumps. We’re too close to a dirt drop to have to red-line anyone for broken bones resulting from getting tossed around during the jump and combat insertion." She smiled again at the grumbles. Strapping yourself in to sleep was uncomfortable because it kept you from turning over in your sleep. Still, it was necessary because Britaine had not published his jump schedule. The captain seemed to have a pathological aversion to sharing command information with anyone, even with his own staff and crew.

"One last thing
APES, at the end of those twelve hours we are going to run every squad through the tri-wave sim again." More grumbles echoed throughout the training bay. "Now get out of here and do that inspection so we can get some sleep."

Able's Trooper Ten Tammie Qualls let out a sigh of relief. Third McPherson had just begun the general inspection on her combat suit when a call took her away.

"Saved by the bell again,
Qualls," DeLaPax called out with a laugh.

Again,
Tammie questioned her decision to leave the Heaven Three Police Department. She remembered fondly her quiet position in the communications systems department. She might not have left if it hadn't been for that a-hole of a supervisor. She shook her head at the memory of her boss’s insistence on carrying on a sexual relationship with her. No matter how many times she went to bed with him and how many times she tried to break it off with him, he wanted more.

She remembered thinking communications with a police department couldn't be much different than communications in an
APES outfit. How wrong she was! Not only was she responsible for managing the communications data stream, she was also required to know how to repair and set up the equipment. All of that while she was wearing a combat suit, shooting deadly weapons and killing living creatures. She almost had a panic attack the first time she was inside a tri-wave simulation combat scenario. She only survived by knowing in the back of her mind that it wasn't real. She didn't know what she would do when she had to shoot at something live, even Binders. It was true she had learned Jujitsu with the HTPD, but it was nothing like APES training. This was harsh, brutal and more physically demanding than her old boss had ever been.

Then there was this commander. McPherson scared the
bejeezus out of her. Tammie knew she was more scared of Third McPherson than she was of whether or not she could kill Binders. The Third was like a rock: cold, hard, and unmovable. Tammie would have sworn her combat equipment was up to APES standard operational procedures, but she almost fainted when McPherson popped open panels and dug into the guts of the suit. It was brand new armor. She hadn't even put any personal markings, decals or paintings on it like most of the veteran’s suits in the bay. It was bright and shiny without the slightest dent. It should have been out-of-the-box perfect.

Tammie smiled weakly back at
DeLaPax. Saved by the bell was right.

DeLaPax
stepped over to her. The tall, beautiful woman patted Tammie on the head. "Let's take a look at this suit, rookie. Let's see if we can figure out what the boss was looking to find, shall we?"

Chapter
Thirty-Four

Colonel Britaine smiled at the assembled officers. All of his flight crews were in attendance, plus that APES bitch. He extended a charming smile in her direction and nodded. He thought if he could keep her in her place until they dumped them out on Altec, then he could wangle a way to get her unit deployed to another spacecraft for any return trip. Assuming she survived combat. His smile grew at the thought of McPherson’s impending death. That would solve all of his problems with the insolent bitch.

The only person he had been unable to contact was that foolish old bureaucrat from the
Marshal Service. The senile data pusher had shut off his comm unit. Even those idiot second lieutenants he had set to watch him hadn't seen Forrester. Well, he would show up in due time, after all, you can't get lost on a spacecraft for long.

Britaine stood until the room grew quiet
, then nodded in satisfaction. Things were going very well indeed. This latest bit of intelligence was quite a coup for him. He had shown General Gurand that his intelligence staff could out do the General's staff. He thought a few kudos, attaboys and pats on the back would be appropriate.

"Ladies and
gentlemen, as most of you are aware, we gathered some significant data during the last series of jumps about a possible Binder presence in our space. The first order of business is to give our collective congratulations to Major Junior Grade Hiero Krandiewsky of the intelligence office." Britaine clapped his hands and smiled broadly when the applause spread among the flight crew.

Krandiewsky smiled back, his face blank as if he had d
ecided it was still not a prudent time to tell Colonel Britaine about mispronouncing his first name or to mention that it was Brown and McPherson who were responsible for the actual discovery and analysis of the anomaly.

When the moderate applause died out Britaine continued. "No further signal or analysis has been forthcoming, but we can rest assured that Hiero will stay on top of
it, and he will be a credit to all of us. Command doesn't expect any repeat of this Binder signal in Gagarin space, but we will be looking anyway. Right, Hiero?"

"Yes, Colonel,
we will find it if there is a repeat of the anomaly," Krandiewsky said.

Britaine nodded as if he expected nothing less. "This signal does have
merit; however, it demands further investigation. We need the answers here. That may be made more difficult by the fact the signal hasn't been heard a third time, correct? I want it to be us, if anybody finds the answers to this puzzle, understand?"

Krandiewsky replied, "Yes, s
ir. We will do the Kiirkegaard proud."

Britaine continued with his briefing. "Secondly, General Gurand agreed it was best to send this information
to the rear to AMSF command by the most expeditious method. The Kiirkegaard is the spacecraft of discovery for this information, so it fell to us to provide two FAC to translate back to Heaven's Gate. Those pilots have returned in record time. That in itself is such a notable achievement it is being recorded in the pilots’ files. I am sure awards and decorations are in the works."

The four pilots stood and waved as the crowd shouted both congratulations and blew
razzberries. General laughter and back patting was rampant. Britaine was pleased. It was pleasurable to see excellent actions rewarded. They were young pilots, it didn't take much to encourage them and make them happy. Britaine could see their bloodshot eyes, drooping muscles and the spider web of broken blood vessels across their faces. A quick series of jumps would take a serious physical toll on the healthiest of pilots. The junior most pilot could barely stand, but her brethren valiantly held her upright. She was obviously suffering from cramps and nausea. Britain wasn't worried. They were young. Puke and his medical team could fix such minor ailments in short order. Their feat made it easier for him to stay up with to the rest of the squadron. He might be able to jump into Altec only a few hours behind that old fool Gurand if he could dump off the Marshal Service sergeant quickly enough. That would show the powers that be that he was fit and ready for promotion to a squadron command or even a wing of his own. He smiled broadly at the thought that things were going exceedingly well, despite having to baby-sit that APES bitch, McPherson.

Britaine said, "That is all. And a job well done, people." He saw McPherson stand up to leave. He could see the puzzlement on her face, knowing she was baffled as to why he had called her to this meeting when it was apparent to everyone she didn't have anything to do with the information at hand.

He called to her, "Third McPherson, I have one small thing for you if I could see you for a moment." He turned to the crowd drawing around him. He smiled; giving the crew one of his knowing smirks and said, "I am sure you could give Misha and me a moment alone." When she stepped up to him, Britaine put a hand gently on her shoulder. He barely controlled the shudder at touching her, but he managed a smile. A warm smile in return was his reward. He thought, "Poor ugly thing; desperate for the touch of a real man. If I can't put her in her place one way, then I’ll do it another." He applied a small amount of pressure to her shoulder and turned with her so their backs were to the still crowded room.

Britaine took a small leather packet from his breast pocket. The packet
had the APES symbol embossed on the cover. Inside was a glass-pack. He slipped it into her hand with the same sly maneuver he used in grade school when passing notes to the girls. As his fingers released the packet, they slid up her hand to dangle suggestively against her bare wrist. He could feel her noticeably quivering with excitement at his touch.

She smiled sweetly at him and slid the glass-pack into a side pocket. He smiled back knowing he had her in the palm of his hand. The bitch was putty in his hands. All he had to
do was string her along until she left his spacecraft. She would prove she was as unfit for command as he had already reported, if he could keep her off balance until she self-destructed. He smiled into her eyes. "Thanks for coming up, Misha. I was sure you’d find it instructive to sit in with us. Just between us, I know you were a big help in the intelligence office. I’m sure you know I didn't mention it because this crew needs a morale boost. I know you understand?" He squeezed her elbow softly.

"Thank you, William. I
’m glad I could be here. I did learn a lot," Misha smiled back.