In a few minutes the entire platoon plus the med-sci team and the navy security team were assembled in the main assembly room of Aquarius Station. The Marines, except for a few Hyakowa assigned to keep watch on the outside through the windows, looked at Bass attentively. Most members of the med-sci team looked either mildly curious or somewhat annoyed at being called from whatever they'd been doing. The navy security team tried to look as tough and blasé as the Marines and almost succeeded. The difference was, the Marines didn't try to look tough and blasé.
"I have news," Bass said as soon as they were assembled. "The Fairfax has found people." He held up his hands and patted the air to fend off a barrage of questions. "If everybody will hold on, I'll tell you everything I know. It won't take long, because I don't know much. A surface radar analyst aboard ship pinpointed the location of what he believes is a human being in the mountains thirty kilometers southwest of here, just like the message we found said. I have the coordinates." He shook his head. "I'd rather send a drone to investigate without endangering any of us, but we don't have an RPV with legs long enough to travel that far and be able to loiter." He nodded toward Dr. Bynum. "And any people we find will probably need medical attention, so we have to take medical personnel with us. I think, if Lieutenant Commander Bynum concurs, that the tech people will be better used by staying here. Senior Chief Hayes and his people will provide security for them. The rest of us will leave as soon as we can get our gear stowed aboard the Dragons.
"Most of the land between here and the foot of the mountains is swamp. There's no way around the swamps. The ride won't be comfortable. The place where this possible person was seen is on the side of the mountain. It's too steep and rugged there for the Dragons, so we'll have to go the last part of the way on foot. That is all. Pack up and let's go."
The Marines immediately began exiting the assembly room. They didn't have much packing to do, but knew they'd have to help the others. Besides, they had their orders and obeyed immediately.
"But you haven't told us who it was that was seen," Lieutenant Snodgrass called out.
Bass shrugged. "I don't know who it was. Like I said, the SRA believes he found a human being. No identification beyond ‘probable human’ is available."
"Was it Dr. Morgan?" Snodgrass shouted.
"Mr. Snodgrass..." Bass's voice clearly showed his annoyance. "If the analysts couldn't identify it as any more than ‘probable human,’ they certainly couldn't give a name to it. Now get ready to board the Dragons."
"Why do we have to go on the surface, why not fly in the Essays?" a corpsman asked.
"Because the Essays can't land in a swamp, and the ground is too rugged where the swamps end for an Essay to put down. Now move out."
"Do you think the person who was seen is one of the pirates who did this?" Snodgrass demanded. "Is that why you want all the Marines to go? If it's the pirates, you're unnecessarily putting everybody in danger if you don't leave most of the Marines here to protect us. Once the Marines go, there's nothing to stop the pirates from attacking us." He ignored the glare Chief Hayes shot at him.
"I told you why the entire platoon is going and taking the medical people. The survivors will need immediate medical attention. Anyway, it's unlikely any pirates are still around here, if there were any pirates to begin with."
"It's pirates. Pirates slaughtered these people."
"We don't know that," Bass snapped. "And even if the people on the mountain are pirates," he raised his voice to speak over Snodgrass's continued objections, "they're stranded here and will be deliriously happy to see us. I don't think we have anything to fear from pirates—they won't be interested in crossing thirty klicks of swamp to attack you. Now get ready to move out."
"Nobody move!" Snodgrass shouted "I'm going to get clearance from Captain Tuit. It's too dangerous for all of the Marines to go. Captain Tuit will agree with me that a squad of Marines should go to investigate before anybody else goes."
"Mr. Snodgrass!" Bass bellowed. Everyone still in the room looked at him—the Marines, Dr. Bynum, and Senior Chief Hayes with amusement, the other members of the med-sci team nervously, not knowing what to expect. "May I remind you that I am the commander of the ground force. I issue the orders here, not you. I am taking the entire platoon with the full agreement and blessings of Commander Tuit. Now, Snotty, wipe your nose and get your ass in gear." With that he stormed out of the room.
Snodgrass turned bright red. It was the first time anyone had used the name to his face. He had to pump his chest to loosen it enough to scream, "I'm an officer, you're only an enlisted man! I'm taking command and pressing charges! You're under arrest!" He flinched as though struck when a hand lightly touched his shoulder. He jerked toward it and saw Dr. Bynum's gently smiling face peering at him.
"Lieutenant," she said softly, "this is an amphibious operation under hostile conditions. It is under the command of the ground forces commander, who happens to be Gunnery Sergeant Bass. I'm here because I have a job to do in the ground force. You're here just for the ride, not because you have a function. But if you want to play rank games, I outrank you. I order you to get ready to move out. In the future remember that all of us obey the orders of the ground commander. That way you won't get embarrassed again by speaking out of line."
"You—You can't give me orders!" he sputtered. "You're medical corps, I'm a line officer."
Bynum nodded. "That's right. And you're a communications officer, you can't give orders to the ground forces commander either." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a tissue. "Take this, blow your nose. You'll feel better." Leaving the astonished Lieutenant Snodgrass holding the tissue, Dr. Bynum left to get the med-sci team ready to leave.
Before Snodgrass could recover, an arm draped across his shoulders. He jerked his head around and saw Senior Chief Hayes's face smiling softly from too close for comfort.
"It's time to be calm, sir," Hayes said in a gentling tone. "You're an officer, Mr. Snodgrass. It's important you appear cool and collected."
"But—"
Hayes squeezed Snodgrass's shoulders tightly enough to force the wind out of him. "There's no ‘buts’ here, sir. I know your sense of propriety is offended by being under the command of an enlisted man. Hell, I'm a senior chief, I outrank him too. But he's an honest-to-God mud-Marine. When it comes to ground operations, he's forgotten more about it than the two of us combined will ever learn—and he's forgotten damn little of what he's learned. So for the ground operations, I follow him. But I'll tell you one thing, sir. When it comes to securing an installation, I know more than he does. My sailors and I are securing this station. You'll be safe with us.
"Now be a good officer, Mr. Snodgrass. Buck yourself up, straighten your uniform, look the role of an officer." Hayes gave a final squeeze and walked away, leaving Snodgrass too dumbfounded to even sputter.
Hyakowa joined Bass just outside the door. "That's telling him, boss." The platoon sergeant glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "Most officers are pretty good. How come we keep getting stuck with the assholes?"
Bass merely grunted.
Snodgrass had one final objection to Bass's orders.
"You can't take all the medical personnel. Most of them are hospital corpsmen, only a couple of them have any field experience or training. They're liable to get injured because they aren't up to going cross-country with Marines."
And you are? Bass swallowed the words before he said them. Instead he said, "We don't know how many survivors there are. All of them will need medical attention. I'd be derelict if I didn't take as many medical personnel and equipment as I can."
"I'm going with you. I'll see to it that you don't mistreat those medical people."
Bass blinked in astonishment at Snodgrass's arrogance. "I think that's one of Lieutenant Commander Bynum's functions," he said.
Snodgrass flinched, but repeated his demand "I'm going with you."
Bass shrugged. "Suit yourself." He waved him to
ward the Dragons.
Four Dragons went in a column. The fifth remained behind to bolster the security of Aquarius Station. Bass rode in the lead Dragon with first squad. Lieutenant Snodgrass rode in the second Dragon with the assault squad. The medical team rode in the third. And Hyakowa and second squad brought up the rear.
From her vantage point low among the root columns of a tree at the edge of a nearby island, showing only her head from her eyes up as she breathed through her gills, the watcher saw and heard the Earth barbarians leave the smaller station in four of their vehicles. She carefully memorized the time and direction of their departure to report to the Master when time came for her to give her report. Then she turned her attention to the vehicle that remained behind.
Vaguely, she wondered why it was left, but hers wasn't a curiosity that needed to be satisfied. She had been bred for work and obedience; curiosity that needed satisfaction served neither of those functions, so she had it in very small store. It was the hope and expectation of the Masters that in a very few more generations, her descendants would have no curiosity left whatsoever. Patiently, as she had also been bred, she watched the smaller station and the vehicle that was left behind. Even though she wasn't particularly curious about it herself, she knew the Master and the leaders would want to know about it, so she watched in order to be able to report.
After a time she saw a barbarian carry a parcel from one of the buildings and walk to the vehicle. He left the vehicle after a few moments without the parcel. Later, he made the roundtrip again, and returned the parcel, much smaller now, to the building. If pressed for an opinion, she would conclude the parcel was likely food for Earth barbarians who were in the vehicle.
Food. Hunger. She realized she had been in the hide position for longer than a day without eating. Twice during that long stretch she had briefly left her hiding place to void her body wastes where they would not pollute her body, which must always be kept clean. Now that she had thought of food, she realized she was hungry. Void. Hunger. Two halves of a whole. The one implied the other. The other demanded the one. The transparent membrane tucked under the outer corner of her eyes slid across them and she dipped her head fully beneath the surface. Things, strange things, swam in those waters. All of them could be eaten, even the one that could eat the People, though none of them tasted like the food she ate at Home. The Master and the leaders insisted they eat the things that swam in the waters, so she and the others ate them. The Master insisted that they also swallow the droplets that gave them the necessary nutrients the things that swam did not. She did not have a droplet with her, but her hunger was suddenly great and she must eat.
She watched the things that swam past. Most of them were small and she would need many of them to quell her hunger. A few of the things she saw were bigger, so much bigger that catching them could cause turmoil in the water, turmoil the barbarians or their instruments might notice. She could not catch one of the larger things that swam; the leaders would not approve of her attracting the attention of the Earth barbarians or their instruments, even if she moved to another position and was not found. Cautiously, she raised her head to look at the smaller station again. Nothing had changed during the moment her gaze was fixed on the things that swam. She submerged once more. There, that one. She had no name for it, but she'd eaten it before with pleasure. It was the shape of a rope, as long as her forearm and as thick as three of her fingers together. She moved a hand, slowly, like a leaf drifting in the water, to the level where it was swimming and waited patiently as it undulated closer. When it was a hand's length away, she snatched it up.
The swimmer twisted and writhed in her grip and tried to bring its tooth-rimmed, circular mouth around to gouge her hand, but her other hand was faster and grabbed the head. She brought both hands toward her face and bit down hard on the neck of the swimmer. Holding it in her grinding teeth, she twisted it forward and back, her hands operating in opposition to each other. The head came off and she dropped it. She eased back into her watching position and contentedly chewed on the body of the swimmer. It did not taste as good as the similar swimmers at Home, but it tasted better than most of the other swimmers in the strange swamp. The People cooked, they had always known how to cook, but they had been eating swimmers raw for thousands of years. Eating the strange swimmer raw while hunkered down with only her eyes and the crown of her head above the water seemed not in the least strange to her.
At length, the Master and the fighters asked for her report.
"Uncomfortable" wasn't the word Lieutenant Snodgrass would have used to describe the trip across the swamp. There weren't clear channels of water for the amphibious, aircushioned Dragons to travel for any distance. They constantly swerved around obstacles in the water, or humped up and rolled over tussocks, some vegetated, others barren. Unseen objects below the surface of the murky water disrupted the uniformity of the air cushion on which the Dragons rode, and sometimes knocked a skirt flap aside. The drivers seemed unable to go even a hundred meters without slamming into something hard and sending vibrations thudding through the vehicles. All in all, Lieutenant Snodgrass would have called the ride "gut-wrenching," "torturous" and, yes, even "terrifying." But not "uncomfortable."
"We're out of the swamp, mountain ahead," the driver of the second Dragon in the column announced nearly five hours after leaving Aquarius Station.
Snodgrass's sigh of relief came out as a groan. Then he yelped as the Dragon clanked over an uneven bed of boulders.
The bouncing, jouncing, and banging were worse on the lower slopes of the mountain than they had been in the swamps—everything was harder there. It was another half hour before the terrain became so steep and rugged the Dragons couldn't continue. Everyone was rubbing at least one sore spot as they dismounted. They looked around in dismay. They were in the path of a recent landslide. A swath several hundred meters wide had been gouged from the forest that blanketed the mountainside. Boulders, ranging from gravel to house-size, littered the pathway. Broken tree ferns lay between, shattered stumps stuck up here and there. Insectoids of all sizes fluttered about the edges of the forest.
Hyakowa began putting out security even before Bass assembled the rest of the platoon and the med-sci team. In a moment second squad's second fire team, which Hyakowa had sent to the edge of the forest, reported back. The forest floor was covered with thick underbrush—they wouldn't be able to get through it without making a lot of noise.
Bass left his helmet on so the Marines in the security posts could hear him on their radios, but raised all helmet shields and rolled up his sleeves so the med-sci team members, none of whom had infras, could see him. He looked at his locator to determine their exact position before speaking.
"We have to go five kilometers that way." He pointed uphill and to the right. "We'll go up this slide for about a kilometer and a half, then we have to find a way through the forest."
"Why don't we go the same way those people went?" a member of the medical team asked. "Surely they followed some sort of path."
"Fine. Show me the path and we'll follow it." Bass looked directly at the corpsman who asked the question. Abashed, she looked at him and feebly lifted her hands in a gesture that said she didn't know where the path might be.
"That's right," Bass said. "We don't know how they got up there, so we have to find our own way." He saw worried expressions on some faces. Not on the Marines, though. Unknown landscapes were a natural environment for the men who went to strange places to fight the Confederation's battles. "Don't worry about getting lost." Bass directed his words to the medical team. "I've got our destination logged on my map, and I'm in constant touch with the string-of-pearls, so we'll always know where we are. If anybody does get separated after we get off this slide, don't worry about being lost. All you have to do is go downhill until you reach the swamp, turn right until you reach the slide, then go uphill until you reach the Dragons. We won't leave anybody behind. We're Marines.
"Any other questions?"
>
When there weren't any, he said to Hyakowa, "Leave one gun team with the Dragons for security. Send out one fire team on each flank, then let's move."
Chapter 18
Lance Corporal Schultz took point, that went without saying. Almost every time third platoon was on the move, Schultz put himself in the position most likely to run into danger first. He didn't consider himself expendable, not by any means. He believed he was better at spotting an enemy or other dangers than anyone else in the platoon. Or the company. The truth be known, Hammer Schultz thought he was the best pointman in the entire Confederation Marine Corps, perhaps the universe. No troop formation he had ever led in a hostile situation was surprised by walking into an ambush. Not that Marines walked into ambushes very often—they were exceedingly good at what they did, and often carried top-of-the-line equipment that allowed them to do their jobs even better. But Schultz was so much better at spotting danger than most Marines that he simply didn't trust anyone else to do the job right. Besides, having someone not as good as he on the point would needlessly endanger him. And when the shooting started, Schultz wanted to fire the first shot. He firmly believed that the man who shoots first is most likely to live to talk about it—not that Schultz talked about the fire fights he'd been in, or much of anything else. Schultz wanted that hot spot.
So Schultz led third platoon and the medical team up through the skree left in the wake of the landslide. He carefully picked his way around boulders and found paths where the footing was most stable across the gravelly areas. The route he followed and the care he took in finding it resulted in a slow pace for the column that followed him. For once, Lieutenant Snodgrass had been right, the members of the medical team weren't accustomed to covering any distance over rugged terrain. Quickly they were in danger of exhaustion. Fortunately, the slow pace allowed them to keep up. But Schultz wasn't looking for stable footing for the benefit of the medical team; he wanted stable footing in case the Marines had to move fast and fight. The route angled this way and that, but averaged more than a hundred meters from the torn edge of the forest.
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