Resist the Red Battlenaut (7 page)

Scott nodded at both men, but only Taggart nodded back. García flashed a cold gaze in his general direction, then looked away without emotion or acknowledgement.
Hardcore
. Scott recognized the attitude.

But he wasn't going to act that way himself, as bugged as he was after the surprise bout and defeat. "Good to meet you." He stepped forward and reached for García, who grudgingly returned the handshake without making eye contact. Then, he shook Taggart's hand, too. "Thanks for the fight."

Taggart grinned. "Any time." He seemed like a friendly guy.

"You posted some solid scores today," said Donna. "You seem to be getting the hang of that CORE Battlenaut just fine."

Scott hadn't known that she'd been scoring him. "Thanks." She hadn't mentioned that she was some kind of training instructor.

"I have no doubt that you'll be fully rated on that armor in no time. Which is a good thing, since we'll be at Shard in three days." Donna walked over and punched him in the arm. "Now get your ass to Engineering. Chief Azimuth has been screaming for you."

Scott's stomach twisted. "I thought he was done with me for the day."

"Apparently not." Donna shrugged and punched him again. "He said something about polishing the manipulator contacts in the secondary grid chamber."

Secondary
...not
primary
. So maybe Azimuth wasn't going to order him to kill himself again. "All right." Scott blew out his breath. "Thanks for passing that along."

"No problem," said Donna. "So maybe I'll see you later, then."

In the brig, probably,
thought Scott,
after I break down and murder Chief Azimuth.
But what he said was, "Maybe you will."

"Great." She flashed him a huge smile before he headed for the door. Maybe it would have made him feel good if he hadn't been going back to the hellhole known as Engineering. Maybe he would have been in better spirits if the crappy day he'd been having had finally been over.

 

*****

 

 

By the time Scott finally headed for his billet that night, he felt like the walking dead. His exhaustion was overwhelming, his head full of static, his eyes glazed over. He was still moving, but only on autopilot; his every last reserve of energy had been totally depleted, leaving him just enough juice to shuffle off to bed.

It had been a hell of a day. After the surprise sparring on the Training Deck, he'd gone to Engineering and taken a different kind of beating. Chief Azimuth hadn't thrown tools at him like before, and he hadn't done anything like ordering Scott to kill himself, but he'd worked him like a rented mule.

It seemed like Scott had scrubbed every centimeter of Engineering...then gone back over it all a second time...and a third. Not only had he polished the manipulator contacts in the secondary grid chamber, but he'd hand-cleaned the entire chamber from floor to ceiling. Sanitizing every catwalk, niche, and accessway hadn't been enough; he'd also had to clean, lubricate, and recalibrate every tool, spare part, and piece of equipment in the department.

And the whole time, Azimuth had trailed after him, watching his progress and insulting him. How many times had he called Scott a piece of hoozehock or a mother-fluxing plang-licker? It had all blurred together after a while and faded into the background of his haze of exhaustion.

After six hours of hard labor, Azimuth had finally released him. By then, Scott had been two hours late for the Surface Warfare Group meeting, but he'd shown up anyway, secretly hoping it was already over so he could just go get some rest. But his hopes had been in vain; the meeting had still been in full swing.

Trane, the head of the group, had torn Scott a new one for being so late--and then the meeting had kept going. It had run for another three hours, then four more after a five-minute break. Scott had to hand it to the Diamondbacks: they were determined to be ready for the Red Battlenauts when they made landfall at Shard.

It had been a real marathon session, and Scott had been called on often to weigh in on the group's strategies. Just when his brain had felt at its fuzziest, he'd been tapped again and again for insights and opinions, then challenged just as often over both. Toward the end, he'd started to fade, and Trane had caught him drifting off three times. More than once, he'd said things that hadn't entirely made sense, and he'd had to backtrack and correct himself.

When the meeting had finally ended, he'd gratefully trudged off toward his billet--only to be cornered by Donna. She'd talked his ear off for fifteen minutes (or was it an hour?), before he'd managed to disengage and resume his march toward oblivion.

Just then, when he'd been only half a corridor away from bed, a burst of alarms and flashing lights had signaled a shipwide drill. Surging with adrenaline, he'd run to his most recent post--Engineering--and worked with the team there to follow emergency procedures under simulated battle conditions.

By the time the drill had run its course, two more hours had passed. He'd stayed in Engineering an hour more before he'd finally been able to get the hell out of there and call it a day.

Now, finally, his billet was dead ahead. He shuffled along the last few meters to the door, made his way inside the darkened room, and found his rack as the door slid shut behind him.

Unfortunately, he wasn't alone. Just like the night before, Trane and Abby were in their own racks, snoring with abandon.

For a moment, Scott stood by his bed and listened to the thunderous duet. He hadn't thought it could get any louder than the night before, but it had. Even being as tired as he was, he couldn't imagine sleeping through that racket.

But if he went another night with little or no sleep, he was going to have a problem. He knew his sleep deprivation limits, and he knew he was hitting the wall right now.

So his choice was clear. He had to get out of that room. He had to take Donna up on her invitation.

Yawning, Scott trudged out of the room to a door down the hall and across from his assigned rack room. The door slid open when he approached, revealing another darkened space--thankfully, one without a pair of champion snorers going at it inside.

When Scott stepped in, the door slid shut. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then he had a look around.

There were twelve bunk beds in the room, six along each wall, and half the racks were full. Slowly, he walked between them, peering at their contents, searching for Donna.

He found her at the end of the row, on the top bunk. She was sleeping on her side, facing out, her mouth open slightly.

Trying not to wake Masada Feinberg, who was sleeping in the rack below her, he slowly climbed two rungs up the ladder at the foot of the bed. Reaching for Donna, he tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

It took a few tries to get her attention. When she finally opened her eyes and saw him, she instantly broke into a wide, sleepy grin. "Hey," she whispered, reaching over to stroke the top of his hand. "You came!"

"Trane and Abby are off the charts again," said Scott. "I can sleep through a lot, but those two are ridiculous."

"Well, there's plenty of room up here." Donna gave his hand a tug.

"Are you sure about that?" Scott frowned. Her rack didn't look roomy at all; it hadn't been made for two people.

"Absolutely." Donna slid over, opening up a little space. "We'll make it work."

Scott hesitated, wondering what he was getting in for. But then he climbed the rest of the way up and rolled into the rack beside her. It was against his better judgment, he wasn't sure he wanted to get involved with anyone on any level...but he needed sleep so badly, he felt like he was ready to pass out.

"There, see?" Donna snuggled up tight against him and laid her arm across his chest. "Plenty of room."

Scott nodded and let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Thank you." He looked over at her and smiled. "I'm so tired, I can't see straight."

"No worries." She let her hand drift slowly over his chest. "I can empathize. I used to have a rack in the same room as those two, and it was like trying to sleep in a Battlenaut factory."

"It was a tough day," said Scott. "One damn thing after another."

"Including that crazy surprise armor drill on the Training Deck, right?" Donna laughed softly and batted his chest with her hand.

"That wasn't so bad." Scott shook his head. "It might even have been the best part of the day, actually."

"Except this part," said Donna.

"Exactly." Scott met her gaze and held it for a moment. It was then he knew, without a doubt, that she would do whatever he liked if he chose to make a move. Her body was against him, her hand touching his chest, her face just centimeters away from his--and she was willing. She was ready for anything and waiting to see what he would do next.

He considered the possibilities. He was a red-blooded man, and she was attractive...but he was also exhausted. As tempted as he was, as much as he might hate himself later for missing out, he just didn't have it in him.

Yawning, he slid his arm around her shoulders. "Thanks again," he told her. "I really owe you for this."

Donna picked up on his signals and relaxed against him. "That's right, you do." She ran her fingers down over his abdomen and kept them there a moment. "And I intend to collect."

Scott didn't address her comment. He could already feel himself drifting off as the possibilities that had been circling the two of them slowly faded away.

"Good night," he said, and then he gave her shoulders a squeeze, feeling truly grateful to be there with her after his lousy day. "Get me up when you get up, okay?"

"I'll do that," said Donna. "You can depend on me."

Scott smiled. His eyes were closed, but he could tell from the sound of her voice that she was smiling when she said it.

 

*****

 

 

Less than two days later, when the
Sun Tzu
slowed its near-faster-than-light travel at the edge of the Veda system, Scott was a changed man--fully rested and ready for anything. Sleeping in Donna's rack that first time and once afterward had really done the trick; without Trane and Abby's nonstop snoring, he'd been able to catch up on some of his much-needed lost sleep. That had made him better equipped to muscle through the hassles of shipboard life and prepare for the mission to Shard.

Which was good, because things hadn't gotten any easier for him. His schedule had stayed just as intense, packed with duty (in different departments, thankfully, not just Engineering), CORE Battlenaut training, shipwide drills, and meetings of the Surface Warfare Group. The Diamondbacks had run him ragged, pushing him to the limit in every possible way; without the rest he'd gotten with Donna, he wondered if he would've made it through as well as he had.

As for any other developments with Donna, Scott managed to keep them on hold. It was a situation that couldn't last forever, but at least for now, it seemed to be working out okay. There'd be time enough to reconsider after Shard, he figured. Assuming they all made it back from the mission, of course.

 

*****

 

The
Sun Tzu
was less than three hours from Shard when Perseid called Scott to the Command Deck. Scott was annoyed, in the middle of prepping his Battlenaut for landfall, but he also wondered what Perseid might want.

When the door to the Command Deck opened, Scott had to take a moment to get used to the place again. He hadn't been there since his first day aboard the ship, and the illusion of standing unprotected in open space made him feel a little dizzy.

On the other hand, the sight of the gray and silver planet up ahead was familiar to him by now. Shard had been on his mind a lot lately; he'd been studying it for days, memorizing landmarks, flora, and fauna that could help him survive its hostile environment. He'd been helping to plot strategies for battle on its surface, ways to defeat Red Battlenauts or anyone else the Diamondbacks encountered. He knew that planet well, though he also knew he'd never truly understand it until he got down there.

After adjusting to the see-through environs of the Command Deck, Scott stepped up to Perseid, who was standing on a circle of white light in the middle of the deck with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Corporal Scott reporting, sir." Scott snapped off a crisp salute.

Perseid spoke over his shoulder. "At ease, Corporal."

Scott relaxed.

"We're almost there," said Perseid. "Should be an interesting experience."

"Yes, sir," said Scott.

"I'm willing to bet it'll be full of surprises." Perseid glanced over his shoulder. "But you're ready for all that, am I right?"

"Absolutely," said Scott.

Perseid nodded. "You'll be our eyes and ears on Shard. Assuming the Reds haven't figured out a way to hide from
you
, too."

"It'll be a damn short mission if they have," said Scott.

"It'll be a damn short
war
," said Perseid. "
Or
, best case scenario, we come out of this with more than just
you
able to see the bastards." He turned to Scott. "That's why Dr. Beauchamp will be watching your telemetry like a hawk, looking for irregularities. We need to know what makes you special when it comes to spotting the Reds."

"Okay." Scott couldn't say he hadn't seen this coming. Perseid had said from the start that he wanted to figure out Scott's secret power and put it to work for the Commonwealth.

"She'll do the same with the other pilots, too. We hope the data will lead to a breakthrough in seeing Red Battlenauts." Perseid leaner closer, meeting Scott's gaze. "That won't be a problem for you, will it?"

"No, sir." Scott shook his head firmly. "Not a problem."

"Because we absolutely need to spread your capability around." Perseid tipped his head to one side. "Because what if something happens to you?"

"I understand," said Scott.

"We've got one guy who can see the Reds. One guy with the fate of maybe the entire quadrant on his shoulders." Perseid narrowed his eyes. "Now what happens if we lose that one guy?"

"The quadrant is fluxed," said Scott.

"Totally fluxed." Perseid reached out for a handshake. "Which is why I called you up here. I wanted to personally wish you luck."

Scott shook his hand. "Thank you, sir."

"I realize this is a hell of a lot to put on one guy's shoulders," said Perseid.

"I can take it," said Scott.

"I know you can." Perseid tightened his grip. "Why do you think we've been putting the screws to you since you came aboard?"

Scott stopped shaking Perseid's hand. Suddenly, the grueling regimen of his life on the
Sun Tzu
made sense.

"It was a test?" Scott frowned. "And I passed?"

"What do you think?" Perseid let go of his hand. "Now go get ready for planetfall and show us what you're
really
made of. Show the whole
quadrant
."

"Yes, sir." Scott saluted.

"We've got twelve hours of orbital reconnaissance," said Perseid. "Then you'll get your chance."

"I'll be ready."

"You better be." Perseid waved him off and turned to face the view of the approaching planet. "Of all of us, you damn well
better
be."

 

*****

 

After leaving the Command Deck, Scott went back to prepping his Battlenaut...but not for long. An hour later, he was summoned to a conference room by Captain Rexis.

When Scott entered, Rexis and seven other Diamondback officers were staring at a holo projection cube hovering over the big ebony conference table in the middle of the room. Right away, Scott identified what they were watching as video of the surface of Shard--a recognizable landscape of gray and silver shapes gleaming in the cold light of a pale yellow sun.

"Corporal Scott." Rexis gestured at the screen. "These are some of the first images from the A.I. probes sent to Shard."

Scott nodded and moved closer, watching the hovering cube as the video continued to play within its boundaries. It was like gazing into a cube-shaped window, following a scene near the planet's surface thousands of kilometers below.

"Take a good look," Rexis told him. "Let me know if anything jumps out at you."

Scott watched closely but didn't see anything unusual. The A.I. probe was shooting video from what seemed like a few hundred feet up, zipping along over fairly nondescript land undisturbed by artificial structures.

"What do you see?" said Khalil, who was sitting at the end of the table nearest to Scott. "An army of Red Battlenauts on the march?"

"Just metal," said Scott. "Lots and lots of metal."

"That's what we're seeing on telemetry, too," said Rexis. "Not that that means anything, when it comes to the Reds' stealth capabilities."

Just then, Masada Feinberg spoke up from the middle section of the table. "Second feed's coming in." She was playing a tablet computer, flicking her delicate, spindly fingers over the screen.

"Put it up," said Rexis.

A second holo cube appeared alongside the first, displaying video from a different location. In this feed, instead of a flat, relatively featureless landscape, Scott saw rolling hills covered with the Shard equivalent of forests--stands of treelike biometallic organisms, shiny and conical as evergreens dipped in platinum. There were ponds and lakes, too, filled with gleaming liquid metal like mercury or molten silver.

"That's a thousand kilometers due West from the first feed," said Feinberg. "For reasons we don't understand at this time, it's a region with a much higher concentration of lifeforms."

Scott could see she wasn't exaggerating. When the probe passed over clearings in the forest, he saw they were crowded with herds of big, gleaming beasts, the local versions of cows or rhinos. The ponds and lakes were life-filled, too; triangular fins and V-shaped tails broke their surfaces as the probe hurtled overhead. Even the air was populated. Flying creatures swirled in the distance, sunlight glinting off their light aluminum-like bodies as they darted out of the probe's way like tiny fighter craft.

"Well, Corporal?" said Rexis. "Do you see anything out of the ordinary?"

"Other than an unprecedented ecosystem based entirely on biometallic lifeforms, that is," said Trane with a snicker.

Scott stared intently at the second feed, looking for anything non-native...but came up empty. The probe banked around a mountainside, then followed a mercury river through a valley lined with low-growing metallic scrub--and still, nothing unusual revealed itself.

"No sign of the Reds?" said Rexis.

"Nothing yet." Scott checked the first feed, too, and saw more of the same as he'd seen there before. The probe just kept sailing along over drab, rolling plains with no flora or fauna in sight.

"Maybe there's nothing to see," said Abby. "Maybe whoever built the Reds got what they came for and left."

"That would suggest a limited effort," said Taggart. "Maybe they only built a few units instead of a whole army."

"Which wouldn't be a bad thing at all," said Abby.

"But is highly unlikely," said Khalil, "given the number of incidents which we suspect are the result of Red intervention."

"I hate to say it, but I agree with Khalil." Trane scowled and shook his head. "The Reds did more than drop by here for a cup of biometallic ore."

Just then, Scott lunged closer to the table, running into its edge, and everyone looked in his direction. Something had caught his eye on the second feed.

Then it was gone, as the probe kept whizzing along above the planet's surface. "Can we play back the last fifteen seconds of feed two?" His heart was pounding when he said it.

"Yes." Feinberg's fingers danced over her tablet, and a copy of the second feed cube appeared beside the original. Within the new cube, the video from the feed spun backward, making it look as if the probe had suddenly changed direction and started zipping back the way it had come.

"Right there!" said Scott, and the feed froze. "Now start it forward again, but slowly."

All eyes in the room were locked on the video as it crawled forward again.

"What exactly did you see?" asked Khalil.

Scott didn't answer. His attention was totally focused on the left side of the cube, where a huge tangle of what looked like copper wire slipped into view.

As he watched, the tangle of wire seemed to ripple, as if waves of heat were flowing over it. The rippling stopped, then started again--and the tangle changed shape.

"Stop!" said Scott. "That's it!"

Feinberg paused the video, but Scott wasn't happy with the freeze-frame. The new shape was severely blurred. The most he could make out was the corner of a square shape angled into the upper left quadrant of the shot. Whatever the thing was, the rest of it protruded outside the camera's field of vision.

"What do you see?" said Trane.

"Not sure. Move another frame forward," said Scott.

The video flicked forward another frame, and the unknown object was still there, just as blurry. What the hell
was
it?

"Another frame," said Scott. Still, there was no change. "One more." The image stayed the same.

"What are you looking at?" said Rexis. "Where is it located?"

"Upper left corner of the shot." As Scott said it, he looked at Feinberg and twirled his index finger. Feinberg picked up the hint and moved the video forward another frame.

Rexis pulled out a holographic pointer and directed its bright red beam at the general area where Scott saw the blurred shape. "So what does it look like to you?"

"I don't know. A blur." Squinting, Scott leaned further forward. "Can we roll the video ahead in very slow motion?"

Seconds after he asked, the video crept forward, a frame at a time. At five frames in, maybe seven, the blurred object started looking like a silver cube. Then, as the probe veered right, even the cube slid out of the shot.

"Now it's gone." Scott shook his head and leaned back. "I don't know what it was."

"Take another look," said Rexis, and he did. In fact, he went back over the video a dozen times, rechecking the same segment. Always, the results were the same: he saw the blurred object turn into a silver cube, then disappear. There was no clarity to be found whatsoever.

But there was guidance nonetheless.

"All right." Rexis let out a heavy sigh after the twelfth review of the video. "At least we know where we're going."

"We do?" Trane sounded like he thought she was crazy.

"Corporal Scott saw something," said Rexis. "He doesn't know what it was, but it was
something
. And that's good enough for me. That tells us exactly where we need to be."

"But the feeds are still coming in," said Khalil. "What if there's something else he should see? Something that's more important?"

"That's why he's going to stay glued to the feeds." Rexis nodded at Scott when she said it. "He's going to watch as much as he can and let us know of anything else that catches his eye. Right?"

Scott nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And if he doesn't find anything else, we'll stick with Plan A." Rexis pointed at the freeze-frame of the planet's surface hovering over the conference table. "We'll move in on that location and light the place up."

"Assuming our onboard A.I.s can target the Reds effectively," said Abby.

"They should do the trick," said Rexis. "We know our sensors and cameras can detect Red equipment, though the resulting data and video are invisible to everyone except Scott. If the Reds can't hide from our equipment, the computer-driven A.I.s should zero right in on them when we take humans out of the equation."

"And if the A.I.s fail?" said Khalil.

"That's where Scott comes in," said Rexis. "He'll tell us
exactly
where to shoot...won't you, Corporal?"

"You can count on me." Scott tried to sound confident, though he had his doubts. "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's seeing Red."