by Vance Huxley
As they loaded the body a small metallic object came out of the wall and scooted across the floor, cleaning up the spent flechettes and shredded cloth and meat. They had appeared after the battle, and then to clean up the spillage when the French Super died. The little machines disappeared afterwards into hatches close to the floor though they could also clean walls and the ceiling. This time, for the first time, one of the little lizards appeared and worked over the area. From the number of times the little creature stopped and licked, the robot missed some.
Bobby watched the lizard scuttle away along the wall. “There must be a way out of the bridge.”
“Or a way in, one big enough for them.” Fleur chuckled. “Maybe we’ve just started to make enough mess to attract them?”
“That’s us, sloppy Troopers.” Bobby thought a moment. “Can we talk privately now, about the message? About how close the reinforcements are?”
“Oui.” A hint of mischief showed. “In your room or mine, or have you found a bath?”
Bobby grinned. “You would still be safe. Though in a few days? We could empty a bin and fill it with water, though I’d want to heat it up with a laser before getting in.” They both laughed, because Fleur hadn’t actually said she would be interested. In fact, she kept emphasising the Putes were fighters, not Divas, even if those kisses and leaving her legs uncovered kept arguing the other way.
“My room then, or I might stay in yours until you feel better.” The mischief showed in her eyes now. “Maybe that would make Pepee jealous.”
“I’m not sure I can manage more than one amie.” Especially since Pepee might stick a knife in him to even up for the Super. Though once in Fleur’s room, both of them sobered. “Guns is on a bigger Gaza Taxi, because they must have left soon after us. The Basteds must have been training before we took off, even when we lost our legs. Control had no idea what would be waiting.”
“There must be rocket full of women like us, more squads of Trooper women, Chiennes. Our squad is Les Putes, like yours are Beebi’s Basteds, but all the women who are Troopers are called the Chiennes. Maybe because we haven’t got a bad enough Basted or bitch to boss them.” She sat and stared at the floor, all hint of humour gone. “Nine rockets, all Gaza Taxis. We say bateau a Douvres, boat to Dover. Why didn’t they send them quicker, to help us?” Fleur seemed hesitant, as if maybe she had an answer but hoped Bobby had a better one.
“So they get our reports in time for everyone to make their alliances. I’ll bet there never was enough air on our capsules or rockets. Shite! Is there a supply rocket really coming for them, or are they all expected to die as well?” Bobby paled, someone had found a way to deal with the Basteds and the Duchess had gone with it. Maybe they’d finished the jobs management had needed them for.
“Some will live even if most of them die. They have two months air and supplies. If most of them die, the rest will have enough for six months.” Fleur had paled as well and they had their arms around each other. “If the Chiennes or your Guns realise they will attack the others, to steal supplies. They’ll all do it, attack the rest.”
“This time with auxiliaries and heavy weapons, not a few extras hidden in the metal legs. There’ll be a full scale war in here.” Bobby frowned, thinking fast. “We have to hold one airlock, so that our people can hold this end. The bridge is a good bargaining point and will bring allies.”
“We are already allies.” Fleur sighed. “By then some of us might be very close allies, and that might cause trouble.” Her sigh became a small smile. “It will be too late by the time the others arrive.”
Bobby grinned. “If another two dozen arrive with legs like yours Bells will burst something. He’ll want to check all of them to find out which ones have real stockings.”
“You haven’t checked yet, about my stockings.” Mischief sparkled in Fleur’s eyes. “That might take your mind off rockets and taxis.”
“When I check those, I might want to check other secrets. Then you’ll say no, and I’ll beat my head on a wall.” Bobby smiled. “Though you have taken my mind off rocket taxis, maybe because I can’t do anything about them. Do we tell the rest that Control really did send help but timed so we would all be dead?”
“I want to think about that. We should sleep first, then we can decide. Maybe our people will fight harder to help friends, or maybe they won’t care because nobody cares about us.” Fleur removed her arms. “Now you must leave before we wrestle and I handcuff you and keep you here.”
“You won’t need handcuffs if that’s what you want.” Bobby yawned. “Enough for today.” He went to the door and Fleur followed.
She kissed him on the cheek. “Dormez bien,” Fleur smiled. “That means sleep well.”
“Dormey been, Fleur.” She laughed and waved as he left, and Bobby grinned and shook his head. He’d end up speaking Frog before he’d done. Fransey, not Frog. Though if the contract held, that might be a good thing. It would be harder for them to keep secrets if he understood his allies. Bobby decided to try harder with this French thing, since Fleur kept translating when she used it.
He headed for bed, nodding to Bells on his four-hour guard duty by the ladders, sat on a bin. They hadn’t enough Troopers for anyone to stay in a sick bay even if Bells and Ecarlate, Red, had to sleep in a ground floor room because they couldn’t climb these ladders one-handed. Siflis had the job of stopping those two from going viral or pooching on duty, because the whole group had now split into three shifts.
Bobby stripped and washed, then put on the antiseptic cream. He smiled quietly, wondering how long Ecarlate and Bells would leave it. The French Trooper had decided that because she had a wound she should sleep in sick bay as well, and Bells would certainly try to persuade her into his bed once he could stand the pain. Bobby laid on the padded oblong, which made a comfortable bed, and covered himself with a thin sheet. The sheets of fabric found in a bin could be anything, but seemed to be insulated and everyone claimed one as a blanket so they could get rid of their uniforms at night.
* * *
Bobby’s eyes flew open because someone had come into the room. He cursed silently because he’d turned in his sleep and couldn’t see in the door. He tensed, ready to dive over the edge of the padding, but someone giggled. “I am not aiming a weapon, Beebi.”
Fleur! He turned over to see her stood in the doorway, looking a little embarrassed or unsure. “Come in. I’d get up but that might frighten you.” Bobby glanced at his uniform on the floor.
“Maybe not.” Fleur sat on the edge of his bed. “But I don’t want poochy.”
“I know, you said.”
Fleur sighed. “But I do want to hold someone tonight.” She sighed again. “All the stars, and la Soleil, and Terre, Earth, all so far away. All the Troopers out there in taxis. So many sent out to die, supposed to die, and now we will live.” Fleur suddenly giggled again. “What are you wearing?”
“My shorts.” Bobby thought furiously. He could do this, just hold. Maybe. Another part of him pointed out if Fleur slept in here, she could kill him if her Control told her to break the contract. Though if Guns told him the same, to kill her? Bobby sighed. “No poochy, just hold?” Because bottom and last he felt bledrin lonely himself after seeing that big bright star.
Fleur giggled again, and still looked unsure, which really did seem out of character. Considering what she’d said about how Les Putes killed enemy Supers she must have got into strange beds before. Bobby smiled a little, though not as strange a bed as this. Fleur took a breath. “Then you will get to see another strategic secret.”
“I could turn around?” Though he didn’t want to.
Fleur laughed. “But you will know anyway when I get into the bed.” She opened the seam on her jacket. “Nothing like Magpie’s.” No, but Bobby thought the silky bra and the brief silky shorts under her Trooper gear looked every bit as sexy. More so, because after all Magpie was the squad sister, a Trooper, a Beebi’s Basted. Then he stopped thinking clearly becau
se Fleur got into the bed and cuddled up.
“This might be bledrin difficult. Holding without touching?”
“Non. I didn’t say you couldn’t touch.” Fleur pulled his arm round her and laid on it. “Just no poochy, or that sort of touching. Oke? You are Oke doing that?” Fleur still seemed hesitant, unsure about that.
“Oke, no poochy and careful holding.” Bobby kept trying to ignore the fact that he hadn’t been near a Diva for over six months. That became harder as Fleur wriggled an arm down his side and threw the other over his chest, then rested her head on his shoulder.
“Hold me tight Beebi Basted. Keep me safe.” She sniggered. “Tomorrow or maybe the next night we can compare scars, but just now I need sleep.” With that Fleur gave him one of those ammee kisses on his lips, wriggled in a bit more and relaxed. Bobby laid for a bit thinking about how an ammee kiss seemed a lot more Diva undressed like this, then drifted off as well.
* * *
When he woke up Bobby found that the shorts felt silky as well as looking that way since he’d put his hand on her ass in his sleep, though Fleur’s slow stretch and smile didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the stretch confirmed the bra also felt silky since she rubbed it over his chest. “A good sleep, much better. Merci, Beebi ami.”
“Mercy?”
“That means thank you. Bonjour is good morning.”
This was a hell of a way to have a French lesson! “Bonjour, amie Fleur.” Bobby returned the amie kiss from last night, on her lips, and removed his hand. Then he admired the view as Fleur stood, stretched again, and put on her uniform. She turned with a grin.
“Now you. That is only fair?” She held out his pants. Bobby laughed and threw off the covers. He felt self-conscious about his metal legs as he got dressed, because although he hadn’t cared before they were crude attempts compared to Fleur’s. He put on his weapons, realising that Fleur had brought none at all. She must have understood the look. “Maybe I can bring some weapons tonight?”
Bobby didn’t even hesitate. Fleur could have made it out of his bed and to his carbin or shotgun in the night any time she’d wanted. He’d have woken up, but much too late to stop her. Not only that but he’d liked waking up with a silky ass under his hand, and the smile that came with it. “Bring them all. It will save you going to get them in the morning.” Bobby laughed. “We aren’t supposed to share beds with other Troopers but the rules don’t mention foreign Troopers. I’ll risk it if you will.”
“It’s a bit too late to say no. Maybe this is a part of our contract?” They walked out laughing. Pepee stopped dead halfway around the balcony, mouth open, then frowned and turned away.
“Will she be a problem? Pepee?” Bobby watched her stalk back into a room. Down below Bells, sat by the ladders on his second four-hour shift, grinned and rolled his eyes at Bobby and Fleur.
“I will speak to her.” Fleur sighed. “Ecarlate and Bells are sharing a room already even if it is the sick room, and maybe Baiser and Siflis will get closer once they know each other better. We all watched Pepee come out of the Super’s room every morning, so she should understand. Unless she gets to Siflis before Baiser.” Fleur grinned and patted Bobby’s shoulder. “Maybe she will move in with Bells and Ecarlate?” The Putes all knew nobody would be splitting Hood and Magpie, because now her secret was out the pair had gone back to hand holding and kissing.
“May the ultimate CEO and his blessed minions help us all if that happens. I’ll end up shooting Bells to stop the bragging if he gets two women.” Bobby set off down a ladder to check the guards. “I’ll be back soon and we can work out what to do next. I really worry about those ladders and floating holes.” Bobby also wanted to work through the Putes sharing out the men and Fleur choosing to sleep with him. Poochy or not, that was some thought.
After checking on Siflis and Ecarlate at the barricades, Bobby talked with Fleur while they ate. The breakfast now consisted of well over half ship food, with a lot of meat because everyone thought that might produce less solids. Three new types of food might be fruit, and might help with the solids problem, so Hood’s shift had tried them. If nobody reacted in another eight hours everyone would include them in meals. Everyone’s stomachs were gurgling and most were passing wind, but nobody felt really ill yet. That might happen in another two days when the last drops of liquid food were gone.
Both agreed they should tell the rest about Guns and the rest. After all the worrying by Bobby and Fleur, the Troopers didn’t even seem surprised about the reinforcements and that they would have arrived too late. “Can you imagine the look on the faces in Control, when they know Beebi’s Basteds will be looking for payback?” Bells wore a huge smile in spite of the pain from his arm. “Better still, they’ll have to pay us those lovely bonuses.”
Baiser cracked her knuckles and smiled back. “Some might have to eat a bullet because when we collect our pay and bonuses it will ruin the budgets.”
“We might have some help when we go for payback.” Everyone looked at Pepee. “I don’t believe there will a supply rocket following the reinforcements, so the survivors will be as unhappy as we are.”
“True, especially if we can get our people in here without a big fight. We’ll have a good position with food and water.” Bobby frowned. “They’ll have to send someone they trust in the end, to take control of the ship.”
“But not Troopers like us. Control will want picked men or women in charge out here, not the survivors of the rough, nasty Troopers they’ve sent first.” Fleur’s face twisted in anger and she spat. “Legion!” From the looks around her, the survivors were working up a good hate for Control.
“I hope the third rocket, the one sent after Guns is supposed to have carked it, brings some senior management to take over.” Magpie’s blissful smile didn’t fool anyone. “Someone we can throw out of an airlock so they can try surviving without enough air and food.”
Siflis scowled. “They’ll send someone to stop us doing that. Squaddies and Legion, that sort of somebody.”
“We’ll want to get our reinforcements inside the ship as soon as possible, and keep down casualties, because we’ll need every fighter. Squaddies and Legion are better trained and will come equipped to deal with us.” Fleur put a hand on Bobby’s. “But they can only get through airlock doors one at a time, so if we stick together we can stop them.”
Bobby had the last word. “If the Rangers will talk before starting a fight again, I’ll explain it all. There’s enough to share, and that way we all stand a better chance of surviving.” Everyone seemed determined but confident after the talk. They broke up to work or take rest breaks, talking together in pairs or trios as they went.
Fleur and Bobby went exploring, up and down one floor with their weapons ready but the corridors at each end of the ladders were empty. Unfortunately, they were also indefensible because someone could come from a higher or lower floor. The Basteds and Putes simply didn’t have enough Troopers to push out further. The pair climbed six floors but the ladders just kept going up, though every three floors the next hole and ladder were offset so anything dropped could only go down that far. If the floors were all five metres feet apart, and went all the way to the top and bottom, there could be up to forty floors each way.
The day passed in strengthening barricades and moving supplies as more proven food went into bins nearer or inside their sleeping quarters. The rest, which hadn’t been tested or stank that badly nobody fancied it, went into resealed bins left in storerooms or used for barricades. Other bins had more of the bedsheets and some smaller versions, and items that made no sense at all. Those bins were all in rooms without food. Some were used to thicken the forward barricades in case the Rangers had more of those rockets. Bobby skipped the evening message to Aggie since he didn’t want to know if Control had rejected an alliance and expected him to kill the Putes. He’d begun to wonder if he could, in cold blood.
Alien Metal
The second night both were a lot more relaxed abou
t sharing a bed, and Bobby could enjoy the view because Fleur wasn’t at all shy about showing her underwear. They laughed and joked about scars because both had plenty though Fleur admitted defeat, Bobby had more. Then after finding out Bobby had been collecting them for over ten years she stopped laughing and inspected him. “How old are you, Beebi?”
“Twenty-six. Just.”
Fleur looked shocked. “You were a Timer at what age? Fourteen, fifteen?”
“Fifteen.” Bobby had stopped smiling now. “A friend wanted another body to back off any other gangs at a demonstration and I already looked big enough and old enough. I said ‘yes’ for the extra creds to help out my Ma. Then it kicked off, and went viral, and the Troopers netted us all. I came in near enough sixteen to be offered the choice. The deep mines, death penalty or join up.”
“Death? For what?”
“Someone shot a Trooper when they came to break up the demonstration. That made us all guilty, even if we had no gun and were three blocks away.” Bobby took a deep breath and let the bitterness go again. He’d buried that long ago, or thought he had. “I was no innocent, nobody is in a Britmine complex, but I never killed anyone. Not until I joined up.” He forced a smile. “So how old are you?”
She laughed. “Non, no, la femme never says.” Fleur stopped laughing, sighed and cuddled in a little. “I said no to an offer for stolen goods, and he didn’t like it. The next time I sold something black market the Troopers were waiting, and arrested me as a pute, a Diva, and a thief. My choice was between what you call a spam palace or the Army. The justice, judge, sentenced me to a spam palace because someone told them I was already a Diva. He offered me the Army because I was a Diva with a knife. I wasn’t a Diva but I had already used a knife a few times, a girl has to if she sells black market, so I chose Les Chiennes. They taught me to use a knife properly.” Fleur shivered.
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to tell me.”
