The Better Part of Valor (25 page)

She checked it for traps, then she wrapped her hand around the grip. It responded instantly, showing a full charge—which was interesting because she distinctly remembered firing into the floor. At an interrogative lift of Jynett’s hair, she shook her head and transferred the strap of the borrowed benny to the returned weapon, slinging it across her back. Until she knew for certain it had been returned unchanged, she was taking no chances.

“And put your damned helmet on,” she growled at the di’Taykan as they left.

The second compartment was a mirror image of the first.
The parts on the bench had all been shoved to one side, and the room reeked of an animated discussion.

Looked like the ship had borrowed a bug’s weapon as well. And returned it.

So the ship knows what both sides are carrying.
Would that be a problem?
And it allowed us to know that it knows.
Was that even relevant?
One thing’s for sure
, Torin acknowledged as they covered the last few meters to the T-junction,
a good old-fashioned firefight is going to come as a relief after all this does it or doesn’t it crap.

Twelve meters up the starboard arm of the T-junction, they found a dead bug. Although it was always dangerous to extrapolate with an unfamiliar species, the sticky patch on one side of its abdomen looked remarkably like a field dressing. A bug’s vital organs—heart, lungs, brain—were in its abdomen behind not only the thickest bits of exoskeleton but body armor as well. In order to gain access to the wound, two pieces of armor had been removed. From the position of the entry hole, it looked as if something had gotten in a lucky shot, angling up in through both armor and exoskeleton at the break where the first section of millipedelike legs appeared. The carapace had been cracked, fluids had been seeping out.

“She probably took the hit during the explosion that destroyed
their
air lock. They carried her this far, she died. When they moved on, they took her weapon but left her body armor because,” Torin flipped a finger into the air “they want to travel quickly and because,” a second finger, “they don’t know we’re in here.”

“How do you figure that second one, Staff? We can’t use this stuff.”

“We can use this.” Torin knelt and peered down at a section of the thorax cover. “In the simulation, this was a comm unit.”

“No translation program,” Werst reminded her. “Even if we can get it to work.”

“And it doesn’t look like it comes off.”

“It won’t have to.” Ignoring Jynett’s silent request for more information, she rocked back on her heels and stood. “I think we can safely say the bugs have left this area. Put a perimeter pin around that corner facing aft, another on this hatch here, and let’s bring the rest down.”

*   *   *

“You’ve got a little time if you’d like to examine the bug,
Harveer
…”

“Do I look like a biologist?” the elderly Niln snapped, cutting Torin off. Leaning heavily on Gytha’s arm, her tail dragging, she shuffled past. “If there’s, time to
examine
, there’s time to sit and contemplate the stupidity of leaving a comfortable lab in a highly regarded university in order to deny one’s age by throwing one’s self into an intriguing bit of fieldwork. I want that as my epitaph,” she added as the younger scientist carefully lowered her to the deck.

“Yes,
Harveer.
”

“You’re not going to argue with me? Tell me I don’t need an epitaph.”

“Everyone are needing an epitaph,
Harveer.
”

“And no one likes a fluffy smart-ass,” she snorted, sagging back against the bulkhead.

*   *   *

“It are not unattractive,” Presit declared thoughtfully. “At least it are having a shell and are not a species looking like it are skinned.” A glance and a lifted lip made it quite clear what species she’d been referring to.

“Please keep your voice down, ma’am.” Guimond told her earnestly. “There’s more of them around, and we don’t want you to get hurt.”

She patted his arm, her hand looking even tinier than usual against his bulk. “I are thanking you for your concern, and I are remembering it for later.”

“Are you blushing?” Nivry demanded as the reporter moved down the passage to join Gytha and the two Katrien began what was for them, a quiet conversation. di’Taykan didn’t blush; their circulatory system wasn’t set up for it, and they found it a fascinating Human response.

The pink in Guimond’s cheeks deepened. “I can’t help it, Corporal. They’re just so damned cute.”

*   *   *

“All right, Frii, hand it over.”

“Staff…”

“Now.”

Sighing deeply, he reached down in under the collar of his combats and pulled out his music card. After a last lingering look, he dropped it into Torin’s outstretched hand. “It’s the
best on the market,” he told her mournfully. “Best sound, most memory, great range. They could turn it on from the
Berganitan.
The Corps’ll reimburse me, right? I mean, it’s personal property destroyed during a military operation.”

“Tell you what, Private, if this actually works…” Torin handed the card in turn to Johnston who began attaching it to the input end of the bug’s exposed comm unit. “…I’ll ignore all three regs you broke bringing it along and I’ll personally file the reimbursement request with your company clerk.”

Frii’s eyes lightened. “And if it doesn’t work?”

“We’ll have bigger problems than you breaking regs.”

*   *   *

Propped against a bulkhead, carefully situated to see both where they were going and where they’d been, Craig Ryder watched the Marines moving purposefully around the bug. Besides the staff sergeant, one of the engineers and a di’Taykan—
who looks remarkably depressed for a species who invented flavored massage oil before the wheel
, he snorted silently—three others were peering through their helmet scanners and keying information into their slates. It seemed that time taken to turn the bug’s comm unit into a weapon was also being used to gather information on the enemy. Now, had
he
been in charge, they’d be breaking speed records hauling ass to the air lock, but clearly the staff sergeant believed that whole gram of prevention thing. Not to mention, better safe than sorry.

Since sorry in this instance meant dead, he supposed he had to appreciate her thoroughness.

Not the only thing about her that he appreciated, either.

Although most of the rest of it was the standard stuff he appreciated on most women.

Actually, it had been a long while since he’d spent enough time with a woman to appreciate anything else. Sex and gambling both had a pretty narrow focus.

I’ve got to get out more.

Provided, of course, I get out of here.

Funny thing, though, he didn’t feel trapped, hadn’t felt the growing pressure of sharing limited resources in an unforgiving environment. Maybe it was the size of the ship. Maybe it was because they were actively moving toward a destination.
Whatever the reason, he hadn’t felt the familiar panic since Torin had led the way out of that cube.

His heart began to pound, and he hurriedly reburied the rising memory.

Maybe it was Torin.

She turned away from the bug and started toward him. As she passed, he fell into step beside her.

*   *   *

“Mind if I ask you something?”

He had a strange, speculative look in his eyes Torin wasn’t sure she trusted.

“What’s with all the sneaking around and whispering? You lot have state-of-the-art PCUs on your heads, why not use them instead?”

Not the question Torin had expected.
And I expected what?
“We in the Corps prefer to call it reconnaissance—not sneaking.”

“No offense intended.”

“None taken. To answer your question, we’re not entirely certain the bugs can’t pick up our PCU signals. We don’t want them eavesdropping; even if they don’t understand us—and we’re not entirely certain about that either—they could use the signal to acquire our position.”

The left corner of Ryder’s mouth curled up, creasing laugh lines around his eyes. “And what
are
you entirely certain of?”

“That if they’re close enough to hear a whisper, they’re close enough to shoot,” Torin snorted.
And what the hell am I doing looking at his laugh lines? Let’s try to remember he’s a civilian, shall we?
Emphatically not looking, she dropped to one knee beside Captain Travik. “Any change?”

Orla’s gaze flicked between the staff sergeant and the salvage operator, then she glanced back down at the captain and shook her head. “Not really. He mumbled something about wasters of food out to ruin him—I think. My Krai doesn’t go much beyond
gre ta ejough geyko.
”

“Sit on it and rotate?” Ryder translated, smiling broadly. “I wouldn’t have thought you lot considered that an insult.”

The di’Taykan grinned up at him. “We don’t.”

Torin attempted to ignore their continuing exchange but with little success. The years of practice she’d put in honing
her skills at selective listening seemed suddenly insufficient.
I must be more tired than I thought.

The captain’s vitals were low but holding steady. There’d been only minor changes since the last time Torin checked his medical program, and his heart rate had even improved slightly. As she stood, she patted him on the leg almost fondly. Not the hero the general expected him to be, but he was doing a lot less damage unconscious than if he’d been up and giving orders.

Johnston had finished up at the bug.

The
harveer
seemed to have gotten her breath back.

The moment Harrop’s squad returned…

As if summoned, Harrop, Dursinski, and Huilin rounded the corner.

“Everything still matches the map, Staff. Passage is heading aft, and we get a bounce at 570.3 meters. There’s a vertical at 569, accessed through the starboard bulkhead. It goes down one level, ladder only.”

Torin followed on her slate as Harrop made his report and tried to stop worrying about why the ship had changed the original configuration. Nothing she could do about it; not worth wasting wetware on.

“There’s a cross corridor every 95.05 meters,” the corporal continued. “Six in total. They bounce out at 80 meters ending in the passage, here…” He touched the map. “…that runs parallel to our main passage. No sign of bugs.”

“Although that doesn’t mean they’re not down here,” Dursinski muttered as he finished.

“We
know
they’re down here,” Torin sighed. A gesture brought the Recon team together, another sent them to their positions, ready to move out. She turned to the civilians, expecting to find them on their feet.

“Guimond?”

He shrugged. “I can’t make them stand up, Staff.”

“You’re twice the size of all three of them put together, so, yeah, you can.”

“We are still resting,” Presit declared, folding her arms. “It are getting late, we are having a
very
full day.” Her lip curled up off sharp points of teeth. “We are not moving until we are ready.”

The two scientists looked more resigned than enthusiastic but had obviously been convinced to support the mutiny.

“And if we were alone on this ship, we could take our time. But we aren’t. And if they,” Torin jerked her head toward the body, “return, they will kill you.”

“We are being killed, walked off our feet!”

“Ma’am, you need to understand that there is a difference between being killed and walking.” Dropping her benny off her shoulder, Torin squeezed a burst off into the bug’s head. It didn’t make much noise as it blew, but rusty brown fluid covered both bulkheads and dripped from the ceiling. “That,” she said, turning back to her astounded audience, “is being killed and I’m trying to prevent it from happening. We’re leaving. Now!”

A few moments later, as the entire company began making its way to the next vertical, she felt Ryder’s familiar presence at her side.

“Good shot.”

“Not really.”

“Well, I suppose the odds were in your favor that it wasn’t going to duck,” he allowed thoughtfully. “You learn about using visual aids in NCO school?”

“No, just something I picked up on my own.”

“You knew it was going to do that?”

“Obviously.” Then, because he was waiting, she added, “The helmet scans of Drenver Mining Station, the last place the Others brought in bugs, are part of the training simulation. After they’ve been dead for a while, the stuff in their heads becomes unstable. The scans are piss-yourself-laughing type funny…if you can disregard the fact that we’re losing.”

Harrop, back on point, had reached the first cross corridor. Raising his weapon to cover the new approach, he held his position and waved the march on.

The far end seemed darker than the distance would allow, Torin noted as she crossed. Not good. The light levels were already low. It wouldn’t take much more dimming before only the nocturnal Katrien and the di’Taykans could see clearly. Torin had no idea how well the bugs could see in the dark, nor did she want to find out.

The second cross corridor was identical to the first.

No. Torin paused for a heartbeat. Not identical but she couldn’t put her finger on the difference.

Her feeling of unease grew at the third corridor.

And the fourth.

As they approached the fifth, she moved up on point, waving Dursinski back.

Raising her benny to her shoulder, she peered through the targeting scope and sent a quick bounce.

Harrop had bounced all six cross corridors at eighty meters. Corridor five showed barely twenty.
Son of a fukking bitch!
The ship had changed the floor plan again.

Hand signals sent Nivry and Jynett on the run to the sixth and final corridor. As they raced off, she moved Werst and Tsui into position covering corridor five and got the rest of the march moving double time toward the vertical.

Then she turned back to the shadows.

The bugs racing out of them were almost expected.

The benny’s cellular disrupter had to actually hit organic matter to work. Fortunately, it “splashed” on impact, widening the target area. Torin squeezed off two quick bursts, aiming for the shoulder joint in the lead bug’s body armor, then as it jerked back, arm and weapon dangling, she dropped prone and began trying for their legs, forcing the bugs to either fold them in under their abdominal armor—becoming stationary targets—or to retreat. No fools, they chose the latter.