The Ninth: Invasion (32 page)

Eos was like nothing Brent could have imagined.  It wasn’t just a rumor; the world really was a giant city.  Everywhere he looked there were traces of people living their lives.  On countless levels below him
and
above him people were moving about, completely oblivious to their arrival.  Houses, markets, schools, restaurants, and countless other buildings were lined up and stacked in seemingly random patterns.  Despite the fact everything was built out of the same dull gray metal, the streetlights and the patches of green from gardens and lawns gave everything a warm feeling.

Children were running through the metal streets while teenagers bounced balls off the sides of the metal plated buildings, irritating those living inside.  Adults were chatting with one another as they went about taking care of their daily routines.  Off in the distance above them, Brent could make out a small patch of the green nebula peeking through the tall towers.  Below them, countless layers seemed to stretch off forever.  On a lower platform off to the side, he saw the citizens exiting through the main cargo bay doors.  The young and the old were staring at the city around them in awe.  The aft of the ship was scorched with long tendrils of burnt hull plating.  Their attackers had gotten off a few good shots back on Deriso.

“Home sweet home,” Cain said, taking a deep breath.

“I hate to admit it,” Rhea said, scanning the horizon, “but this is truly impressive.”

A small group of people snaking up the ramps toward them caught Brent’s attention.  He instantly recognized the blue uniform of the Protectorate.  It was fascinating to watch them navigate the complicated network of elevators and ramps that connected the levels.  Finally, they reached the troopers, panting from their journey.

“This place is
huge
.”

“What do you want, Philip?” Penny asked.

“You remembered my name!”  A satisfied smile lined his face.

“What is it?” Brent asked.

Immediately Philip and the other Protectorates snapped to attention.

“I thought you’d like to know the civilians have been given temporary living accommodations here on Eos.”

“Well, that’s good,” Doug said.  “With a war on it would be heartless to send them back out there.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Brent noticed a neat formation approaching them.  Three rows of four, all in matching uniforms, were quickly closing in on the troopers.  When he spotted a rifle, he knew they were the local armed forces.  The way they moved and carried themselves betrayed them for anything but Protectorates.  They were well trained and well armed.

“Philip, get behind us,” Brent barked his order.

Without hesitation, the Protectorates assembled behind the startled troopers.

“What’s the matter?” Tyra asked.

He gestured to the approaching armed group.

“Don’t they look friendly,” Humphrey mumbled.

“Don’t panic.  Those are CI soldiers,” Cain said with pride.  “No doubt just checking up on us.  Remember, my dad personally sent the ship to get us.”

When the CI soldiers reached the troopers, they formed two neat rows.  The first kneeled and pointed their weapons at the troopers.  The second row remained standing but also trained their weapons on Brent and the others.  He instantly recognized it as one of Sanderson’s battle formations, and from the way they held the rifles, they were obviously serious.  A single soldier stepped toward them from the group.  He was a bit taller than the rest and was the only one with a small red and gold pin on his left lapel.

“Would Rhea Serena please step forward?”

Despite the fact he’d used the word please, it was obvious it was not a request.  Ronald discretely put his hand on Rhea’s hip.  She got the message and held perfectly still.

“What do you want from Miss Serena?” Tyra asked.

“Are you Miss Serena, then?” the commanding soldier asked.

The other soldiers in attack formation all pointed their weapons at her.

“I am not.  My name is Tyra Lucchesi.  I am the squad leader in charge of these troopers.  What do you want with my subordinate?”

“She is a known relative of an important member of the
Union
.”  The soldier over-emphasized the word union.

The soldiers in formation watched carefully, but Rhea didn’t react to the ploy.

“Do you know who I am?” Cain asked, interrupting the showdown between leaders.

“I’m well aware, Master Hooten.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Sergeant Romani.”

“Well, Sergeant Romani, Miss Serena is a friend of mine, so you’ll understand . . .”

“Sorry, Master Hooten, my orders are
clear
.  I am to take Rhea Serena into custody.”

“But sergeant, surely you . . .”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been ordered to take her into custody even against
your
protest.”

Cain seemed stunned.  Brent noticed a few of the soldiers hesitating as they looked over the troopers.  Their eyes went from trooper to trooper, hesitating at regular intervals.  With some surprise, he realized they hesitated every time they eyed Angela or himself.  He suddenly remembered they were in the smooth black uniforms of the Weavers.  No one had paid them any special attention on the tradeship so he had completely forgotten his uniform had meaning.  The citizens of Deriso might not have known much about Weavers, but these men did – and they feared what they knew.

“I’ll ask one more time,” the sergeant said in a forceful voice.  “Will Rhea Serena step forward?”

Brent took a step forward away from the group.  The men in formation pointed their rifles at him.  Despite their best efforts, they were trembling just a bit.

“We are not looking for any trouble, Weaver.”  The sergeant remained firm.

“What if Miss Serena doesn’t want to accompany you?” Brent asked in the most fearsome voice he could muster.

“I’m afraid she doesn’t have any choice in the matter, Weaver.”

“What if
I
don’t want her to accompany you?”

The sergeant took a step back, despite himself.  Attempting to regain his composure, he fiddled with his already straight lapel.  Brent noticed the sergeant subconsciously rubbed the pin on the lapel twice.

“I’m sorry, Weaver.  Even if you protest, we are ordered to . . .”

“Think very carefully about your next few words.”  Brent forcefully interrupted.  “I’d hate for you to lose that shiny pin.”

Without realizing it, the sergeant’s hand defensively rose to his lapel and started rubbing the pin.  The other soldiers started to sweat, and he could hear a few swallowing nervously.  The sergeant’s other hand hovered dangerously close to his side arm.  Brent knew from his infiltration training on body language that the sergeant wouldn’t back down.  As the sergeant’s hand drifted to his weapon, Brent grabbed the sergeant and tossed him at Owen.  Owen flinched, and his innate defensives kicked in.  In a flash, the sergeant was on the ground.  Taken by surprise, the soldiers hesitated for an instant.

It was more than enough.  Ronald took down a kneeling soldier with a quick punch and continued forward, thrusting his elbow into a soldier standing in the second row.  Hiroko leaped over the standing row and landed behind the formation.  With a single graceful motion, she swept their footing out from under them.  Mr. Springate moved with amazing speed and knocked one out with a single blow.  Mahoney punched a kneeling soldier in the gut while slamming his head into another.  Dante threw a mighty punch which landed squarely on a soldier’s chin.  The poor guy crumpled silently to the ground.  Cassandra lifted one off the ground and threw the helpless soldier at the few still standing.  In the space of five seconds, the CI soldiers had gone from battle formation to lying on the ground, groaning in pain.

“You should have listened to Brent,” Owen grumbled as he inspected the wounded.

Dante and Ronald quickly disarmed the soldiers and passed the rifles and side arms to the troopers.

“Did that really just happen?” Philip asked in shock.

“Yes it did,” Brent said in his normal voice.  ‘Now you get to the civilians and you keep them safe.”

“But we want to help you.”

“The best way you can do that is by keeping those civilians safe.  You keep little Hiroyuki and his friends safe so I don’t have to worry about them.  I’m leaving them in your care.”

The Protectorates swelled with pride at their assignment and bowed to Brent like the tripod.  As they rushed off, he wondered if they’d realized he had given them the exact same assignment they’d had since they joined the Protectorates.  Watching the Protectorates rush off, he became aware they had drawn a great deal of attention.  Every local within shouting distance was nervously eyeing him.  Apparently, he’d just become very popular.

“Where did that voice come from?” Doug asked him.  “Scared me half to death!”

“I think it worked one better on the soldiers,” Marie said with a grin.

“I can’t believe they wouldn’t listen to me,” Cain said, more to himself than anyone in particular.

“It’s okay, Cain,” Angela spoke in a surprisingly soothing voice.  “We’re at war, and they were just doing their job.”

“Guys . . .” Rhea spoke in a weak voice.

“Brent might have been the one to act, but we all support what he did,” Humphrey mumbled.  “We’re not letting anyone take you anywhere.”

“Plus, you might want to save the thanks until we aren’t exposed targets,” Sanderson said, scanning the distance.

“Your orders?” Ronald asked Tyra.

“We can’t stay here,” she said quickly, “and we can’t take on every armed person on the planet.  Cain, you dad is important around here, right?”

Cain nodded while Angela kept a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll try to meet up with him, then.  With his help, we should be able to clear this mess up before things get worse.  Owen, how are they?”

“Mostly just bumps and bruises.  There are a few broken bones, but nothing life threatening.  I’ve made them a bit more comfortable for now.  We can leave them here without worry.”

“Good to hear.  How are we set for weapons?”

“Twelve rifles, and side arms,” Ronald said.  “We have enough for everyone to at least have a weapon.  Although, I’d rather not attempt a battle under these conditions.”

“Agreed.  Cain, you lead the way.”

“Guys?” Doug asked.

“What is it?”

“I ... accidentally pulled the trigger on my side arm.”

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Marie said in disgust.  “Why’d you do that?”

“Unless his gun is set to some kind of silent mode,” Mr. Springate said in alarm, “I didn’t hear anything.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”  Doug passed his side arm to Marie.  “They don’t work.”

“He’s right, they must be coded or something,” she said, examining the weapon.

“Coded?” Erin asked anxiously.

“You know, coded.  So they can’t be used in the wrong hands.  DNA coded, fingerprint coded, and so on.  There must be a dozen or so ways to go about it.”  Marie carefully looked over the trigger.

“Can you get them to work?” Brent asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Doug asked.

“Shouldn’t we just drop them and go, sir?” Dante asked.

“I tell you, no one appreciates a trooper trained in survival,” Marie said distractedly.

“She may not look it, but Marie is a master at weapons repair and modification,” Liz said with pride.  “If she can’t do it, no one can.”

“I never would have guessed . . .” Kindra’s voice trailed off as she watched Marie work.

“So Brent
did
have a reason for picking her,” Erin said with a chuckle.  “And here I thought she was just eye candy.”

“I hate to break up this riveting discussion,” Angela said anxiously, “but we’ve got company on the way.  And they are
not
happy.”

“How do you know . . . Right,
Weaver
, never mind,” Cain said, sounding a little groggy.

“What’s wrong with him?” Tyra asked.

“He’s not coping all that well.”  Angela’s voice was strained.  “I’m trying to help, but I can’t keep track of the approaching soldiers and keep him from falling into depression at the same time.”

“Great, there goes our guide.”  Hiroko worriedly watched the ramps leading to their level.

Brent stepped behind Angela and whispered in her ear.  She gave him a startled glance, looking him over carefully.  He gestured to Cain.  Angela took a step away from Cain and forcefully slapped him.  A couple of troopers winced in pain at the sight.  He rubbed his cheek while staring at Angela in complete surprise.

“You mouth off to a Governor’s wife without blinking,” she started shouting at him, “you steal hard earned credits from anyone who’s willing to sit at a card table with you.  You love to sexually harass a Weaver who could
kill
you in the blink of an eye.  But some no account sergeant who dropped like a wet noodle is enough to totally destroy your self-confidence?  You’re
pathetic
!”