Esther's Story: Recon Marine (The United Federation Marine Corps' Lysander Twins Book 2)

by Jonathan Brazee

  Most of Marines in the room joined the humans in the broadcast as they erupted into cheers, and across the creek, the Klethos farthest away from the ring turned and started to leave. They had won. New Budapest was back in human hands.

  The witnesses came into the ring, but the gladiator held up her one good hand, stopping them. Slowly, she reached over and smoothed out the crest of her opponent. With her hand still on the d’relle’s crest, she started leaning forward as if to look into the d’relle’s eyes, but she didn’t stop the lean. She fell on top of the d’relle, covering her. Amid the cheers in the room, Esther knew Iron Shot was gone. She had regained the planet, but at the cost of her life.

  Leaving her cider, she stood up. Someone pounded her back, but she ignored it and walked out of the club, out of the building into the night. She’d just witnessed something extraordinary, but she wasn’t quite sure just what that was.

  Esther hadn’t known Tamera Veal. She’d never seen her, never talked to her. She wasn’t given to displays of emotion, but as she walked back in the dark, a tear rolled down her face.

  PRIME DAVIS

  Chapter 18

  “Hell, looking good, Lysander,” Captain Sven Lugar said as he looked at Esther’s naked body.

  “Wish I could say the same about you. What’d they do? Drop you on an ant hill?”

  The heavy-worlder did look a mess. His light skin was covered with red welts, and his thick neck was looking even more massive with an obvious swelling on the right side of it.

  “Pretty close to it,” he said with a chuckle.

  Esther shook her head. Those bites had to itch like a bitch.

  “Well, since you’re here, do we stick together or go it alone?” she asked him.

  “It might be a good idea . . . oh, hell. I’ll just fess up. I knew you were dropped just before me, and I wanted to find you. I think we should team up. A couple might not draw as much attention as two singletons.”

  That was true, Esther knew, at least according to the classes they’d received. But it was more true that a single woman rarely attracted any kind of attention, at least the kind of attention they were trying to avoid.

  “If I want to form a couple, then one of you trogs might not be the best choice. Not too many of you here on Prime Davis.”

  The captain ignored her baiting and asked, “Prime Davis? That’s where we are? How do you know that?”

  “I’m not positive, but it fits. I did some research on possible destinations, and with the double moon, I think this it.”

  “Lots of planets have double moons,” the captain said.

  “Yeah, but not many with such a small minor, with temperate deciduous forests, and what I’m guessing as 1.1 G. When you think of what was within the realm of travel possibilities and well, a population where we can operate, I’d be willing to bet that’s where we are.”

  “I never took you for such a researcher. I have to say, I’m impressed. Very impressed.”

  Esther broke out into a smile before quickly suppressing it. Esther had always been known for her father first and for being an athlete second. But as General Simone had told her more than a few times, a Marine’s most valuable weapon was his or her brain. And while RTC placed huge demands on the body, it was still the intellect that would pull a candidate through. Her hours spent researching potential worlds might have seemed like a wasted effort, but if she was right, then that little piece of intel could make the difference between success and failure. Sven’s brief comment might have been the first time anyone ever complimented her intellect.

  If she were being ruthlessly logical, then the captain would not be her choice for a partner. She’d called him a “trog” to see if it would get a rise from him, but the fact of the matter was that there wouldn’t be many heavy-worlders here if they were in fact on Prime Davis. He’d stick out like an elephant at the ballet.

  Still, he’d thought to track her down, which she admitted was self-serving, but was also smart. And he’d appreciated her analysis.

  “OK, I’m up for it. First things first, though. Let’s find some clothes. I don’t want to be staring at your bug-bitten ass for longer than I have to.”

  Chapter 19

  Esther stood over the captain, almost against his back as he fiddled with the lock. They’d reached the small strip mall over two hours ago, but most of the stores had normal bio-locks on them. They had been trained on how to gyver them, but stark naked and with no equipment, that was out of the question.

  Please work, Esther prayed as she watched him.

  The larger of the two moons, which had given close to daylight illumination, had set, giving them darkness in which to skulk, but the red glow on the horizon was a pretty good sign that daylight was approaching.

  It was Esther who had noticed the tall metal box to the side of the parking lot. Her heart skipped a beat when she was the familiar Goodwill logo on the side. Their luck held out when they saw the mechanical lock holding the door shut. Sven scrounged up a twisted piece of molding and was working the lock. He’d been on it for 20 minutes already, and Esther was tempted to take over. That was nerves, though. They’d been introduced to simple lock picking, but that hadn’t been her strongest suit.

  She almost jumped when she finally heard a click, then held her breath until Sven said, “That’s it. Let’s see what we can find.”

  He opened the door and reached inside, pulling out a handful of used clothing.

  Esther gave them a quick scan and said, “Bring out some more.”

  She quickly pawed through them before holding up a dark Cossack blouse, checking it against the captain’s stock y frame. Satisfied, she threw it at him. The Cossack blouses had been all the rage ten years ago, but there were still enough of them around that it shouldn’t attract any attention. More than that, it was loose hanging off the shoulders, so it would serve to mask his wide body, at least to a degree.

  “Find any pair of pants that’ll fit, hopefully in a muted color, then try and find some shoes in there,” she told him before searching for something she could wear.

  She’d been ready to wear anything that she could find, but with so much to choose from, she wanted to pick whatever would help her blend in the best. Goodwill didn’t accept underwear, so she’d be braless, so she tried to first find a tighter shirt to give her some support. She ended up with a man’s Deep Six, the form-fitting collarless V that she thought did most men no favors. It worked for her, though. She found a pair of half-calves that fit, but she still wanted a looser shirt of some kind to put over the Deep Six.

  “We’re not at a fashion show,” Sven said as he stood and watched. “Just pick something. We’re going to attract some attention, if we haven’t already.”

  Esther had noted the security cam, but she also noted that the power cord hung loose. Still, he was right in that people should start to arrive soon. One of the stores in the strip mall was a natural bakery, and bakers tended to come in early to start the day’s bread.

  “Hold on,” she said, kicking some of the clothes aside and wishing she had more light.

  She snagged light colored, probably yellow, shapeless blouse and threw it on. It wasn’t muted, but maybe that was OK. While they didn’t want to garishly stand out, they also didn’t want to look like there were trying to avoid notice.

  The captain handed her a pair of slippers.

  “Is that it?”

  “All I could find. I think it’s those or nothing.”

  She slipped them on. The fit wasn’t horrible, but she’d hate to have to try and run in them. Sven was already shoving the extra clothing back into the bin. Within moments, he was locking the door shut.

  “Now that that’s done, what’s next? Yours or mine?”

  Esther knew the captain was offering her a big advantage. If things went to shit after they recovered her objective but before they had his, he’d be out of luck. But she could analyze the situation as well as he could. With the time crunch, it made sense to get h
is first, then hers. That gave them the best chance for both of them to succeed. She could have gone it solo and not worried about order, but since she agreed to team up, she was going to honor that.

  “Yours,” she said without hesitation.

  As if connected, both Marines turned in unison towards the planetary southeast. The Neulife bridge that let them know where their objectives were still freaked Esther out. She couldn’t feel it, but suddenly, it was as if she had a nav AI inside her brain. She knew where she was and how to go somewhere else.

  Recon Marines were often alone and often where any transmissions could be picked up. A simple uplink to a nav satellite could reveal their position. So the R&D wizards had come up with a way that while not as good as a simple nav app, allowed recon Marines and SEALs to navigate in stealth.

  The first thing the docs did was stimulate the hippocampus to over-develop. This would allow recon Marines to have a much, much better sense of direction. But that alone was at most a marginal improvement. The brain had to be able to interpret what the hippocampus was sending. So second, two Neulife bridges, one for each hemisphere, would be inserted from the hippocampus to the rest of the brain, to enable the Marine to make use of that input in a more cognitive fashion.

  The bridge was essentially a bundle of KD crystal connectors, bunched much like dried spaghetti in the hand before putting it into the boiling water. But KD crystals cannot connect into brain cells. So on each end of the KD bundle, Neulife “caps” were attached which could take the input from the hippocampus, transmit it to the crystals, then interface back into the entorhinal cortex, bypassing the fornix, in a usable format.

  The same, if a little older version of the process had been done to her father when he’d joined recon, and he’d admitted to Noah and her that he’d almost refused the procedure. Neulife was an artificial organic tissue, and the thought of it inside his brain had terrified him.

  Esther didn’t have the same phobia. She understood the long-term risk, but knowing the bridge could be removed took care of that issue. It just blew her mind that given two coordinates, one at her origin and one at her destination, she always knew how to get there. It wasn’t fireworks going off in her mind with a big reveal. It was just as she knew which way to look when she heard a noise. It was the “normalness” of how it felt that was so unreal to her.

  “I’m thinking we head south on the road here. Somewhere up ahead, we’ll need to take a left,” Esther said.

  “My thinking exactly,” Captain Lugar said.

  As the two stepped off, a hover pulled into the far entrance to the parking lot. People were awakening, and the city was coming to life. Things were about to get a lot tougher.

  Chapter 20

  Three hours later, the two Marines were looking over where they both agreed Sven’s objective was located. The Neulife improvements were significant, but they simply did not have the refinement to be any more accurate. The fact that both agreed was a good indication, but the objective could be within a 50 to 100-meter radius, and that covered a lot of area.

  The fact that two militia guards were standing beside the small structure in the park was also a telltale, but people have been known to use guards as decoys, too.

  “So now what?” Esther asked, trying to come up with a course of action.

  “Should we just rush them? I mean, two Marines against two yokel militia. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

  Esther frowned at that. There was a tendency among Marines to dismiss local militias as being inferior. It was true that there wasn’t a militia or even and army that could match up, unit for unit, with the Marines. But it was stupid to underestimate anyone. For all they knew, either of the two guards could be MMA champions or wizards of hand-to-hand.

  “ROE, Sven,” she reminded him.

  “I don’t mean anything permanent,” he said. “Just a little friendly contact, you know.”

  Heavy-worlders were stereotyped as brawlers, and it was true that a disproportionate percentage of them made up the premier rugby or NFL football leagues. Sven was doing nothing to combat that stereotype. But Esther knew that wasn’t going to cut it. If nothing else, it would raise a hue and cry that neither of them wanted.

  She ignored him just as she ignored his next two ideas which were even lamer than the first. He didn’t argue for them, so she knew he was just thinking out loud. It took a few minutes as she thought and rejected a number of courses of actions. Then one hit her, which she promptly rejected, but a moment later, brought it back. It sounded just as lame as the captain’s ideas, but as she re-examined it, she realized it might be feasible.

  “Sven, how about this? Head on down that walkway, but before you reach the building, walk over to the water. Act like you’ve got something to feed the ducks with and get them to come up to you. Then wait for me. I’ve got an idea to distract those two. If it works, you might have a shot to sneak in.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  “Then ignore what happens to me. You’ll have to wait for another opportunity.”

  “Just what are you going to do?”

  “I’m not 100% sure yet. I’ve got a few ideas, but really, I’m going to play it by ear.”

  “OK, Lysander, that’s hardly a mission order.”

  “And this isn’t a normal mission. You’re not a company commander anymore. Things are different here.”

  He’d hit the nail on the head, though. Esther, just by being a Marine, was used to a normal Five Paragraph Order, a format that had been in use with various permutations for hundreds of years, or a Frag Order, which was a shorter version that adjusted the original order or was given when time was limited. This “I’ll think of something” went against all her training. All her previous training. RTC stressed this kind of think-on-your-feet planning.

  The captain stared at her long and hard before he shrugged his shoulders and said, “So you want me to just go down there and feed the ducks?”

  “Yeah, that’s about it.”

  “And where do we rendezvous after?”

  Esther scanned the park, then said, “How about under those trees, the ones even with the Fidelity Life building?”

  “OK, I wish I knew what you were going to do, but you’ve got it,” he said.

  He retreated 20 meters, and then got on one of the paths. He started walking as if just enjoying the pleasant weather, covering the 200 meters or so to an intersection. He took a right, and then Esther lost sight of him as he passed behind a row of bushes.

  Esther held her breath until he reappeared, which she realized was kind of stupid. What was going to happen to the captain just because she lost sight of him?

  As he approached the odd little building, one of the guards glanced at him, then turned back to talk to his buddy. Sven stopped as if noticing the ducks for the first time, then crossed the grass to the lake’s shoreline. The guards didn’t give him a second glance.

  OK, this is it.

  She backed away slowly, then moved to her right, in the opposite direction Sven had taken. When she reached another row of bushes, she stepped behind them and took off her yellow blouse. Look down at her Deep Six, she started having second thoughts. A Deep Six was a male fashion statement, not an exercise shirt. It was meant to show off a fit body. Her half-calves were not running shorts, but she thought they might pass. The slippers, though, which had been used when she got them and were now worse for wear after walking three hours, just wouldn’t do. There was nothing else she could do about that but take them off. Some people ran barefoot—not Esther, but hopefully, she wouldn’t look too out of place.

  Knowing this was the best she could manage, she took off on a slow jog, first on the path, then quickly shifting to the grass as a softer, more giving surface. She slowly jogged about half a klick, always angling away from Sven’s objective. Her legs warmed up as her gait smoothed out, and her feet felt fine on the grass. She might have been back at UM on a training run—except for her breasts. Esther wasn’t huge in
that area by any stretch of the imagination, but she was certainly a woman, and without an exercise bra, she was bouncing. She tried to smooth out her stride, keeping a more even keel, but with limited success.

  When she thought she’d worked up a good enough sweat, Esther started back, making her way to the path that ran alongside the lake. The little building came into view when she was about 200 meters away. One of the guards noticed her approaching, and Esther saw the slight nudge he gave his buddy. They weren’t being overt about it, but they were watching her while acting as they weren’t.

  For all that is holy, I cannot believe I’m about to do this.

  Esther didn’t pay much attention to gender and gender politics, but she had an inherent dislike for women who played to their sex to get what they wanted. She was a competent woman who achieved success for her efforts, not simply because she was a somewhat attractive female. While at the university, she’d flirted on occasion, but she’d been determined to put that aside when she enlisted. As a Marine, she might have even gone overboard to avoid any “genderfication.” She was a Marine, nothing more, nothing less. And she’d rather be back on that 75kg forced march at Prettyjohn than do what she was about to do.

  While still more than 100 meters away, Esther straightened up her posture and stuck her chest out. She was very, very conscious of the bounce in her breasts, and she could feel her face turn red. She hoped the guards would attribute that to the exertion of running.

  This is so freaking lame, she told herself. This only works in the flicks, not real life.

  The two guards had quit pretending and were openly watching her as she ran up. Behind them, she could see Sven edging closer along the shoreline.

  She started to speak, but her voice caught. She coughed, then said, “You boys, now don’t look at my ass when I run by” in as flirty a voice as she could—which sounded anything but to her. She ran past them by about ten meters, then turned to look over her shoulder to see if they were watching her—and managed to get her feet tangled up, sending her flying to the ground.