Metal Boxes - Trapped Outside (17 page)

Numos raised his hands for silence. “Okay. Shut it off. We’ve all seen it.”

Stone spun around at a familiar odor. Dr. Triplett slipped into the group of officers. Last he’d seen, she was bound and gagged, but that was a few days ago. Obviously, they couldn’t keep her tied up for days on end, nor did they have any place to lock her away. A few NCOs backed away from her, giving her room. She looked sideways at Jay and Peebee, her hostility evident without smelling the change in her emotions.

“Jay and Peebee, please go sit with Spacer Dollish.” He didn’t think he could transmit to the drascos and he tried for a mental picture of Dollish with his particular odor combination. Just to be safe, he pointed at him. He was sure his drascos could have found Dollish in the dark once they knew who they were looking for. He wasn’t sure how far their sense of smell went, but he was sure he could pick out people from about a hundred and fifty yards away without even looking at them. He concluded, he’d gone insane.

The girls bounded through the crowd, dancing up and jumping over without touching anyone until they found a clear space next to Dollish. Stone could smell the spacer’s apprehension fading as the girls huffed their breath at him and jostled for position as they settled their heads into his lap.

Stone looked at Tuttle. “Corporal, how long have you been on duty watching my back?”

Tuttle’s faceplate was up and she grinned, “Damfino. What month is it? Ain’t been hard duty watching you sleep.”

Allie laughed. “Okay, Barb. Take a break. I will keep an eye on the governor and see if I can keep him out of trouble.”

Stone laughed with Allie, “And Barb. Thanks for the offer of the blowie, but I’ll pass.”

Allie pointed a pretend angry finger at Tuttle. A dozen enlisted hands shot up along with voices, “I’ll volunteer to take his place, Tuttle.”, “How about me?”, “If you’re giving them away—”

Stone turned back to face Triplett. He stared at the woman with open hostility. EMIS Agent Tammie Ryte slid into the inner circle to sit behind Triplett. She silently patted a handgun in her waistband. He turned back to Major Numos. “Sir, who is in charge?”

Numos said, “I took temporary command as I’m the only uninjured officer except Lieutenant Senior Grade Doctor Menendez and she was too busy to take over considering the number of injuries we sustained in the bombing of the compound, the animal attacks in the meadow, and the issues we had traveling here and getting set up. Of course, I do outrank her even if we are in different forces.”

Stone said, “Sir, would you like to continue in command?”

Triplett interrupted, “I object. This is a civilian mission, with the military only here for security. If Ensign Stone isn’t in command as assigned by the Emperor, then command should fall to me as the highest surviving civilian.”

Stone nodded. “That sounds practical, however, I suggest I continue in command and we leave Major Numos in charge.”

Triplett sputtered, “What? That doesn’t make sense.”

Stone said, “I don’t want to be in charge. I’ve been there and done that. For obvious reasons, Doctor Triplett, I won’t allow you the opportunity to take command.”

Numos nodded, “How about this? Ensign Stone is the governor. The Emperor said so. In this capacity, he can appoint me as his second in command.”

Stone agreed, “Major Numos speaks with my authority. As I understand it, my authority is underwritten by the Emperor himself. In my absence, the major’s word is law. If I die—and I’m given to understand that was and still is the general belief of what will happen to me—then he takes over.” He looked at the people gathered around him, from the military, most were marines with a few navy and medical command personnel. The civilian scientists made up the vast minority. “I want a volunteer to shoot Doctor Triplett in the head if she ever—and I mean ever again—makes the suggestions she should be in charge, someone should kill my pet drascos, or we should surrender to the Hyrocanians.”

Triplett sputtered in outrage when dozens of hands shot skyward. He spotted a stump raised in the air. He pointed at her, knowing the woman he had met in the hospital was a sociopath who enjoyed killing and might not wait until Triplett did something wrong. However, he didn’t care. This woman had committed treason by sharing data with humanity’s enemy who had used that data to kill people he was responsible for. “Private Tighe, whenever you feel up to it and with Doctor Menendez’s blessing, please report to EMIS Agent Ryte to give her a break from watching Doctor Triplett.” He looked at Numos. “Do we need to put a watch on all of the civilians?”

Stone was worried about the civilian scientists. From what he remembered, their prevailing belief was war was always wrong, therefore, the military was always wrong. Peace with the Hyrocanians was their rally cry, claiming diplomacy was never given an appropriate opportunity to succeed. There were even legal charges levied claiming humans had deliberately started the war, despite the mounds of evidence proving the Hyrocanians had attacked unarmed civilian colonies first. Of course, the civilians, mostly college students and their professors, claimed the evidence was manufactured by the military. The military claimed the students and professors were idiots despite their education. Many scientists earned their scholarly positions through grants funded by the emperor, progressing from college to graduate school to a university research lab, never setting foot nor mind in the real world. Their views of humanity and the galaxy around them were skewed by the theories and philosophies of others just like themselves.

Not everyone coming out of the multitude of educational campuses thought that way, but there were enough demonstrations against the war and against the military that they occasionally made the news. Most of the time, peaceful demonstrations were relegated to a news outlet’s dustbin, but more often than not peaceful demonstrations turned violent. The students always claimed the para-military police started the violence despite any evidence to the contrary.

Stone knew most officers had higher educational degrees. He was required to earn a college level degree to be promoted beyond ensign senior grade and if he continued his navy career, he would need to earn advanced degrees. Still, most people clamoring for a diplomatic end to the Hyrocanian War claimed the military brainwashed their officers into jingoist warmongers, so the opinions and experiences of the men and women who had seen Hyrocanian atrocities first hand were not to be trusted.

He remembered a few civilian scientists back in the meadow evidencing the same emotions and odors as Triplett. Leaving them to wander around unwatched might be dangerous if they decided to act upon their beliefs. He doubted any of them would be foolish enough to sabotage their own safety, but if they were deluded enough to try contacting the Hyrocanians, then everyone’s life was in danger.

Numos replied, “I don’t think so. We don’t have enough people to do what we need done now. I trust most of the scientists on our team so assigning people to watch people we trust would be counter-productive to our survival.”

He didn’t know how many people were left from his original contingent of three hundred and fifty-seven. Looking around at the crowd and others scattered through the canyon he doubted even half were still alive and only a small percentage of those were without some wound. The Vasco de Gama with its entire complement was gone, as was his family’s ship, including his cousins Vance and Marvin with their families and staff. If he didn’t kill Triplett, then someone surely would, or the Emperor would lock her away in some deep dark hole never again to see the light of day or another human face.

He wondered if it would be prudent to just toss her out of the canyon and let Allie’s World have her.

TWENTY-TWO

Stone didn’t want to be in charge. He hadn’t enjoyed his time in command of the Ol’ Toothless. There were obvious perks to being in command, like better quarters and better duty hours. Even those benefits had strings attached. Sure, he had a nicer suite of rooms so he could be closer to the command center if he was needed. Better duty hours was a myth since the person is in command all of time and makes themselves available at any time. He’d had to make decisions endangering his life and the lives of everyone around him. The drawbacks far outweigh the benefits.

So far, on Allie’s World he’d managed to command by allowing people do their jobs and not interfere with them. Thomas had inspired him to delegate much of his day-to-day organizational activities, letting people take care of themselves. His whole responsibility was to act as a liaison between the three military branches and the civilian scientists. That hadn’t been difficult before now. The military units each had clearly defined and rarely overlapping duties and obligations. The scientists were so self-absorbed in studying Allie’s World they just wanted to be left alone. He realized leaving them alone now without oversight was dangerous. If EMIS Agent Ryte hadn’t been working undercover watching the scientists, they still wouldn’t know Triplett was the traitor sending information to the Hyrocanians—data that killed hundreds of humans.

He chewed on his biggest command decision. He’d ordered their compound abandoned and set a southerly gathering point. What might have happened if they’d stayed put? Could they have successfully defended the compound? Glancing upward, he was glad to see the underside of the tarps covering the sky. They were thin camouflage sheeting, yet the cover was enough he could convince himself he was inside. He wasn’t protected by a thick metal box. The compound hadn’t protected him from the Hyrocanian bombs, so abandoning the compound had forced him outside, the last place he wanted to go, but had it cost others their lives? What if he had chosen a direction other than south? Would they have been caught in an open meadow by the night stalkers and the rampaging male drasco? Would others have been hurt?

He tried to clear his head by shaking it. That seemed to only make things worse. He wasn’t fit for command. Crazy was crazy. How insane was he that he thought his drascos could talk to him? Even now he could hear them chatting back and forth with each other about food, babies, and Mama. How nuts was he for thinking he could smell the hostility coming off Triplett? What kind of foolishness was it to equate an odor of rancid grease with hostility? Had he mentally cracked? Was he only imagining he could hear a conversation two hundred yards away between two marines on guard duty at the wall? Thinking he could’ve seen anything in a dark room was wacky. Still, crazy or not, he did have the Emperor’s authority behind him and that wasn’t a thin strand of authority. The Emperor’s might was enough to cling to if that was what it took to keep Triplett from trying to take command and getting them all killed.

She did have a valid argument about this being a civilian operation. Without him in charge, she might have been able to press her claim to take over. She might have a case for cutting the thread to the Emperor’s authority if she found out about Stone’s mental state. However, she was forgetting that on this planet, he ruled. Emperor or not, crazy or not, even physically healthy or not, he was his family’s representative as the major owner of Allie’s World and he wouldn’t give up that right to anyone.

He sat on a rock next to Numos, Allie claiming a spot next to him. “Major, what is our status?”

Numos said, “Sir, we are down to forty effectives—effectives as in all uninjured personnel. We have another sixty with varying degrees of wounds.”

“How bad are the wounds?”

Numos said, “Doctor Menendez is better suited to answer than I.” Menendez started to speak, but Numos waved her silent. “Sorry Lieutenant Menendez, we’ll get to your reports soon.” He looked at Stone. “It’s worse than just forty effectives. Only a dozen are suited marines. The remainder are navy, civilian—and thank the gods—medical corps, although Doctor Menendez is short staffed for the sheer number of wounded.”

Stone nodded as if the numbers made sense to him.

Numos said, “We do have a couple of hand-me-down suits from dead marines. We are trying to do a rough fit for marines without suits. As you know, a marine combat suit is not a one-size-fits-all suit.”

“Neither are the navy’s.” Stone clearly remembered his last suit fitting. Because he was still growing, he had to get his suit adjusted frequently. The whole thing was an exercise in frustration. Stretch this, pinch that, wiggle that finger, bend here, twist there, and even urinate now into the suit. A suit’s command function learned over a long series of exercises and practice sessions what the wearer wanted, how their voice sounded, whether an eye twitch meant something or was just an eye twitch. Swapping suits wasn’t a recommended activity.

Numos continued, “I’m rotating my effective suits for guard duty on the wall and,” he swirled a finger around in a circle over his head, “up on the canyon rim. We’ve generated a level of interest from the local fauna, nothing my marines can’t handle as long as we don’t run into another male drasco or those night stalkers. So far, we have avoided using any bullets or explosives since securing this canyon. I still have concerns that the Hyrocanians will be able to detect us if we use gunfire.”

Stone didn’t want to ask, but he didn’t have a choice, “What about Lieutenant Hammermill’s Charlie Platoon?” A standard marine platoon was sixty-four men and women. A few days ago Hammermill’s platoon landed with a full complement. He didn’t know how many survived the Hyrocanian bombing. He was sure more survived from Charlie than from Alpha and Bravo. Delta was almost completely wiped out and those who survived volunteered to a man to join Charlie Platoon to ambush the Hyrocanians.

Numos shook his head. “We have been on radio silence. Hammer knew we were heading south, but he didn’t join us before we moved here. They may be able to track us, but we did our best to cover our tracks. I decided if Hammer’s platoon could track us to this hideout then so could any Hyrocanian looking for us.”

Numos said, “We haven’t seen any indication of Hyrocanians in the area. I don’t know why they are waiting to hunt us down. We’re sitting ducks here. They should be looking for us with everything they’ve got.”

Triplett shouted, “Of course they’re not hunting us, they aren’t rabid animals—” She shut her mouth when Private Tighe stood, slipped a knife from a boot, and started forward. The quick whine and click of a handheld weapon echoed off the rocks as Agent Ryte flipped the safety off her gun.

Stone heard Jay give a low growl and knew she would outrace both women to Triplett if he gave the slightest indication he wanted the woman dead. Peebee, still hobbling on a damaged leg would be only a half a step behind her sister. He could see them dancing in anticipation just like they would waiting for him to throw a ball to chase. The odor of rancid grease was so strong he almost gagged. He said calmly, “Jay and Peebee, let’s not kill Doctor Triplett just yet.”

Triplett blanched as she looked at the drascos. The scientist was deluded if she thought Jay and Peebee were the biggest danger she faced. The drascos were fast, strong, and willing, but they had never deliberately harmed a human. Stone could smell pepperoni pizza with jalapenos on Melanie Tighe’s breath. Her sociopathy was readily apparent to him and to both drascos. This wasn’t a woman to be trifled with. Stone motioned Tighe to retake her seat. The woman obeyed with evident reluctance.

Triplett glanced behind her at Agent Ryte and sneered. Ryte flashed her an insincere smile and flicked her handgun safety back on. Somehow Triplett had concluded Ryte was toothless. The conclusion was false.

Stone sighed, “Major, I had hoped to avoid this. Agent Ryte, you said you have evidence Doctor Triplett has committed treason?” Ryte nodded and pulled out her dataport. He waved at her to get her to stop. “I don’t want to see it. I wouldn’t know what I was looking at anyway. Nevertheless, have we placed Doctor Triplett under arrest? I mean officially, since we don’t have the manpower to lock her up?”

Ryte shook her head. “I don’t know what good it would do to arrest her when I don’t have a cell or even a good set of handcuffs.”

Stone said, “I know what good it will do. Arrest her, please.”

Ryte shrugged, “Doctor Triplett, you are under arrest for treason. Other charges may be pending. Do you wish to cooperate or do you wish to resist arrest?” She looked at Stone. “There Ensign Stone, but what can I do about it?”

Triplett sputtered when Stone said, “Now I have a recorded reason to remove Doctor Triplett from being in charge of the civilians. Doctor, you are now persona non-grata.” That was what Grandpa called someone he didn’t want to ever let on his spaceship again. “You’re not to speak to anyone, civilian or military, without Agent Ryte or Marine Private Tighe being present. Any contact will constitute a violation of your house arrest.”

He looked around and spotted Dr. Wyznewski, the low-ranking civilian geologist who’d been spiked by the bird on their race away from the compound. He smelled minty. “Doctor Wyznewski? You’re now head of the civilian scientists. Please inform your contingent that speaking with Doctor Triplett will result in the offender being brought up on collusion charges.”

He looked back at Numos, “Sorry for the interruption, Major.”

“Sir, I don’t know if the Hyrocanians are looking for us or not. They may be sitting back and licking their wounds. They know they didn’t get us all. I don’t think they wanted to kill all of us. Both Lieutenant Vedrian and I agree they wanted to take a few of us alive, their targeting systems are notoriously bad. Still, they hit two ships in space and managed to only clip the edge of the compound enough to hurt us. That was damn fine shooting for once. I believe they missed the compound on purpose and if the situations were reversed, I would be looking for them with everything I could spare. That includes listening for gunfire, hand grenade explosions, or even a large cooking fire anywhere other than under our camouflage netting.”

Stone struggled to remember a phrase from his cadet training. Suddenly it popped into his head. “Let’s get back to the status of forces.”

Numos looked at Butcher as if reluctant to speak. “Navy?”

Butcher held up one finger.

Stone thought the man was asking for a minute, but Butcher said, “One unwounded.”

Stone said, “What?”

Butcher tilted his finger sideways and pointed at S3C Dollish sitting quietly between Jay and Peebee. “One navy not on Doctor Menendez’s injured list.”

Stone shook his head. “Shouldn’t that be two, Dollish and me?”

Butcher said, “No Ensign Junior Grade Stone. That is one. Dollish. You’re on the injured list until the medical corps says different.”

Menendez shook her head. “How can I say different? You shouldn’t even be alive, Ensign Stone. For all I know, you will pass out and die in the next few minutes.”

Stone said, “I feel fine. Can we go on the assumption I’m in good shape?”

Menendez said, her voice tired and resigned. “Shape? Hell Ensign, even your shape is suspect. I know teenage boys often go through growth spurts, but not six inches in three days. We had to have you strapped down to stop the convulsions. Listening to your joints pop and crack as you grew was enough to give me the shivers. We cannot assume you are healthy, just that you aren’t contagious.”

Stone said, “Well, that’s something. We’ve already established I’m still the planetary governor, even if I am in danger of dying.”

Amused, Allie snorted and looked embarrassed to have interrupted. “Sorry.”

Stone asked, “What?”

Allie laughed, “Hells bells, Stone. There isn’t a human being on this planet who isn’t in danger of dying: you, me, the Major, and Agent Ryte.” She looked at Ryte, “Although I’m beginning to suspect some of us will survive longer than others.”

Stone wanted to ask what she meant, but he needed to continue with his status of forces report. “Well anyway, since my medical condition set the precedent for being in command while still injured, Lieutenant Commander Butcher, would you take over command of all navy, assisted by Master Chief Thomas? Sir, I realize you have really been doing this for the last few days, but please officially continue?”

Butcher nodded. “Most of us are gone, the rest are recuperating from injuries. I think the Master Chief and I can keep it together long enough to keep an eye on Spacer Dollish.”

Stone asked Menendez, “Doctor? How is your team?”

Menendez said, “We lost a quarter of us in the initial bombing. We lost another twenty-five percent to this damned planet on the march here. The remaining nine of us from the medical corps are so ragged from the long hours of work that we are little more than zombies. Worse, we are down to boiling used bandages. Damn near no supplies, very little medicine, and nothing else. We have a few antibiotics, plus a minute supply of morphine for pain. We are almost back to using leeches for a little bloodletting, except we’re out of leeches.”

Stone was concerned about their food supplies. Not that he could do anything about it, but he was hungry and wondered what they had available for lunch, or breakfast, or whatever mealtime was closest. He opened his mouth to speak and caught a slight sour and tart odor on the breeze blowing in from the forest. Something about the scent made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.