by M. R. Forbes
"Major," Rodriguez said, his eyes checking Donovan for injury. "There was some action outside. I was afraid your team was in trouble. Is everything okay?"
"We're fine, sir," Donovan said. "I'm not sure if everything is okay. There's something happening out there. Matteo said to ask you to come to the comm room immediately. He said it was important."
"Let's go, then. Tell me what happened to you."
They started walking together, taking a brisk pace back.
"A ship dropped from orbit. At first, we thought it was a Dread ship, but then it leveled out, and the Dread came up and started shooting at it. There must have been a mech nearby because it moved closer to our position and also started shooting. General, it was unreal. The ship was one of ours, and it flew right over our heads, so close I could see the pilot inside."
"Did he engage the enemy?" Rodriguez asked.
"No, sir. It didn't look like he had any weapons."
"Then why would he come in so low? What would he be doing here, anyway? They're early."
"Very early."
They reached the steps, climbing them two at a time. Donovan's team was still waiting at the stairwell for him, and they came to attention and saluted when the General appeared.
"At ease,' Rodriguez said. "I'm glad you're all safe. Donovan told me you had a bit of excitement."
"Yes, sir," Diaz said.
"Follow me. Whatever is happening, you're all an important part of it now."
The soldiers trailed behind Donovan and Rodriguez. They entered the communications room, where three small computers rested on an old metal desk, and wires snaked across the floor to the wall. Matteo was behind the desk, leaning over an old touchpad and staring into the monitor. He looked up.
"General," he said, saluting even though he wasn't part of the military.
"Matteo. What do you have?"
"I still can't quite believe it, sir. I mean, after all of this time, and-"
"What do you have?" Rodriguez repeated.
"Sorry, sir. Our monitoring software picked up an incoming message about ten seconds after the first round of vibrations stopped. It kind of caught me off guard with how fast it transferred because that meant it had to be a local send. But what really blew my mind were the headers."
"Headers?" Diaz asked.
"Information on where and how to send," Matteo said. "General, the message was directed to you, using an old identification tag you provided when we setup the system. According to the headers, it came from a General Theodore St. Martin?"
Donovan felt a chill run through his body. He glanced over at Rodriguez, who had frozen in disbelief.
"Did you say Theodore St. Martin?" he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Yes, sir," Matteo said.
"What did it say?"
"It was sent to you. I haven't looked at it. I came to you right away."
General Rodriguez smiled. There was a tear in the corner of his eye. "That son of a gun. I knew if he were still out there he wouldn't let me down. Let me see it."
Matteo turned the monitor so they could all see. He tapped the pad, and an older man appeared. Donovan assumed it was General St. Martin. The look of recognition on General Rodriguez's face confirmed it.
"Christian," Theodore said. "You may not remember me, son, but I remember you. I can't say I'm surprised to know that you're still alive down there. You always had this look about you that told me you were a survivor. We got a message from you not too long ago, saying that the resistance was giving up the fight and going into hiding." Theodore leaned forward on his arms, getting closer to the recorder. "Christian, don't you dare do something as foolish as that. This fight ain't over yet. Hell, son, it's just getting interesting."
"He has no idea," Diaz said.
"Shhh," Rodriguez replied.
"If you're watching this recording, it means my son, Gabriel, managed to break through the Dread's defenses and transmit it down to you. Hopefully, it means he also managed to get himself back out. The point is, I risked my own boy to get in touch with you, and I did it for a damn good reason. Gabriel witnessed a Dread fighter firing on the defense satellites in orbit around the planet. He says the Dread's plasma cannon was able to destroy them, meaning their weapons can defeat their armor."
"We already knew that," Diaz said.
"Shhh," Rodriguez repeated.
"What I want you to do is try to capture one of their weapons. I've got a scientist up here who's a real genius, and I think if we can get our hands on one, he can figure out what makes it tick and find a way to use it against the enemy. Now, I know it may not be easy to get one of these weapons, but son, this is it. The last hurrah, if you will. The New Earth Alliance was considering abandoning Earth before we received your message, and I had to take the Magellan despite their protests to keep them from turning tail and leaving you stranded. If you have to give up every last man and woman you've got to make this happen, you need to do it. It's more than just their lives at stake. It's the lives of everyone left on Earth, and at least half the population of the NEA as well. Me and mine are waiting out near Mars for the next standard recon cycle. My son, Gabriel, will be back then. Send a transmission, tell us if you've got it or what the next move is. We'll be waiting."
Theodore leaned back. It seemed as if the recording would end, but then he leaned forward again.
"Oh, and Christian, if you know the whereabouts of my Juliet, I would be much obliged for that information as well. I know it seems a long shot, but there's a part of me that can't let go and is very much praying that she's still alive."
The screen went dark.
SIXTY-FIVE
"Sir?" Donovan said.
Thirty seconds had passed since the recording ended. General Rodriguez hadn't moved a muscle. His eyes were glued to the dark screen; his hands clenched into fists.
The rest of the squad waited silently.
The seconds continued to tick by.
"Matteo," General Rodriguez said at last. "Get a message out to General Parker in New York. Tell him that Mexico base will not stand down, and my recommendation is for him to rescind his order, at least temporarily."
"Yes, sir," Matteo said, immediately shifting the screen back around and sitting at the desk to prepare the message.
"Donovan," Rodriguez said, turning to him. "I don't want to put undue pressure on you, but I can't even begin to express how important your next mission is going to be. I-"
"General Rodriguez, General Rodriguez, sir!"
Sergeant Wilcox barreled into the room, barely stopping before knocking Corporal Wade over.
"General Rodriguez."
"What is it, Wilcox?" he asked.
"Sir." She swallowed, trying to catch her breath. "If you remember, sir, Sergeant Yung and his team left yesterday on a supply run. They just returned a minute ago. They were out of breath from running to get the message back to you, so I ran here for them. Yung said the Dread were headed this way in force."
Rodriguez's eyes bore into her so fiercely she looked away.
"Damn it," he said. "They got us the message, but they attracted too much attention doing it."
"The fighter flew right over the base, sir," Donovan said.
"Between that and Captain Reyes firing his weapon the other day, they have to suspect we're here somewhere," Diaz said.
"Did he say how many?" Rodriguez asked.
"No, sir. He said it was more than he had ever seen in one group before. Both regular clones and others in armor."
"Should we evacuate, sir?" Montero said.
Rodriguez didn't answer. They all knew it was a difficult decision to make. How could everything be falling apart at the same time it was beginning to come together?
"Sir?" Donovan said.
"Yes, Major?"
"General St. Martin said they have a scientist with them who he thinks can figure out how the alien weapons work. He wanted us to get a gun, but we already have one. What we need to do is to ge
t it to them."
"In twelve days," Rodriguez said. "Maybe we can stay hidden down here for that long, but then Gabriel is going to come back, and there will be nothing for him to pick up. They'll assume we've either given up or died, or maybe that their transmission never made it through, and they'll leave again. That's assuming we can stay hidden. If the Dread are sending a large force, I don't think they'll give up until they've found something."
"Or we can evacuate and make a run for it," Montero said.
"Where are we going to go?" Donovan asked. "We've already been on the run. How many will people die if we do? Besides, we know from Ehri that the Dread leader wants us all dead. Who's to say we'll make it out this time?"
"So you want to hide down here and wait for them to storm in and kill us all?"
"Of course not. I think we need to focus on our priorities. I hate to say this, but this base and everyone in it is secondary to getting the weapon out of the area and up to General St. Martin. If all of us have to die to do it, then that's our fate. We're part of the resistance. We have a duty to the mission. We have to fight to the last man, to the last breath to get the Dread off our planet."
"Tell that to my daughter," Montero said. "She's only four years old."
"I'm sorry, Colonel," Donovan said. "I know it sounds cold, but this is the world we're living in. If we don't get that gun off the planet, we're all as good as dead. Not just you and me. Every last human on Earth."
Montero turned to Rodriguez. "I'm not going to sit here and wait for her to die, sir."
"No one wants their child to die," Rodriguez said.
"General," Donovan started. Rodriguez put up his hand to silence him.
"Give me a minute, Major. I didn't survive this long by rushing into things."
"We don't have a lot of time, sir," Diaz said.
"I'm aware, Lieutenant. Matteo."
"Yes, sir."
"You said the transmission was received locally. Do you know where?"
"Give me a minute, sir." Matteo's eyes locked onto the monitor, his hands gliding across the control pad.
"What are you thinking, General?" Montero asked.
"I have an idea. It may get us all killed, but it may also be the best chance we have."
"I ran a packet trace, sir," Matteo said. "The transmission was picked up by an antenna thirty kilometers east of here."
"East?" Montero said. "That would be near the top of Mount Tlaloc. There's nothing out there, never mind anything with a power supply. That can't be right."
"The antenna id was MTTC-DSN-110. I've got the IP address." Matteo did something with the control pad. "I just pinged it. Whatever it is, it's active."
"Another group?" Donovan asked.
"If it is, they may not be friendly," Diaz said.
"I'm telling you, there's nothing out there," Montero said. "I'm from this area. I would know."
"Matteo, how sure are you about the location?" General Rodriguez asked.
"It isn't a perfect system. Seventy percent?"
"It will have to be good enough. Major Peters, I need you and your team to head out to the transmission site. Matteo, I want you to go with them."
"Me?" Matteo said. "Why?"
"Whatever that place is, it has power and an antenna. We can't wait twelve days for the recon flight to return. We know General St. Martin is waiting near Mars. We need to get a signal out that way, to tell them we have the weapon and that we're waiting for them."
"Waiting where, sir?" Donovan asked.
"On the mountain. You'll bring the guns with you."
"Guns? Both of them?"
"Yes. We can't afford to lose them. Not now. I'd send Carlson with you, too, but he's too damn slow. I do want you to bring Ehri."
"I don't understand?"
"It's like you said, Major. Our top priority is to get the weapon to General St. Martin so his genius can try to do something with it. Unfortunately, right now I think that's also the safest place for anyone to be. Our second priority is to protect the people here who can't protect themselves. I have an idea on that, too. Montero, go ask Major Sharma to help you get our people together in the cafeteria so that I can go over the details."
"Yes, sir," Montero said, leaving the room.
"Sir," Matteo said. "I don't know if this will work. I've read everything we have here about communication systems. It takes a pretty big antenna to reach out into space with any kind of authority. What if we get there and it's somebody's homebrew needle or something?"
"Then you stay alive for twelve days and wait for Gabriel St. Martin to return. You can use the needle to transmit to them. Either way, we'll get a message off."
"Are you sure you want us to bring Ehri, sir?" Donovan asked. He didn't mind keeping her out of harms way, but he wasn't sure what value she would add to the mission.
"Yes. She knows how her people operate, and she seems to have a soft spot for you. She may be able to help you evade the Dread long enough to deliver the message."
Donovan was surprised by the comment. "A soft spot?" he asked.
"That's what your mother told me."
"You've been talking to my mother?"
"I get reports from everyone who is in charge of anything around here, Major. That includes the nursery."
Donovan felt a mixture of excitement and guilt. It had never occurred to him that Ehri might become fond of him. The children, maybe. Not him.
"She's also highly educated and intelligent. She may be able to help with the transmission."
"Yes, sir," Donovan said.
"Take Diaz down to the lab to get the weapons from Carlson. Take the Dread cloth, too. All of it. Use it to stay alive. Come to the cafeteria after."
"Yes, sir. One more question, sir."
"Yes, Major?"
"Thirty kilometers to the top of the mountain? It's going to take us at least a day to get there. If the Dread see us, there's no way we can outrun them."
Rodriguez smiled. "I'm a survivor, remember? I've got a plan for that, too."
SIXTY-SIX
Donovan and Diaz left the science lab, each wearing the alien clothing beneath their green uniforms and carrying a Dread plasma rifle. Donovan also had Ehri's black dress in a bundle beneath his arm.
They were on their way to the cafeteria, following a short distance behind Carlson and his team as they answered the General's call for all hands. They were close enough to the open space that they could hear the general hum of the assembled as each of the gathered members of their community worked to guess why they had been summoned or calm their suddenly fraying nerves.
"This is it, isn't it?" Diaz said, her voice low. "What did General St. Martin call it? The last hurrah."
"This may be our most important mission, but this isn't it," Donovan said. "If we make this happen, we'll be on the road to fighting back for the first time in half a century."
"Can we make this happen?"
Donovan nodded. A strange calm had come over him since they had left the communications room. After barely surviving so many t-vaults, the idea of having something tangible come from it meant that all of the friends and comrades he had lost over the years had died for something. He would do his best to make sure of that.
"Yes. No one would ever have guessed we would wind up in a Dread starship and make it out alive. Last week, it seemed impossible that we would be able to get our hands on one of these." He shook the rifle. "We can do this, Renata. You and me and our team."
She smiled. "You seem convinced."
"I am."
She stopped walking and turned to face him. "Can I ask you something? Something personal?"
He paused. "Of course. We've known each other for a long time."
"Do you ever think of me? As anything other than a friend or Matteo's sister, I mean?"
Donovan stared at her. He knew there was something passing between them. Two weeks ago he had only ever thought of her as his best friend's sister, and now he saw her as a friend and equal. He
appreciated the way they interacted, and the trust he had in her ability to help keep him and the team alive. Maybe there was something more to it? He really didn't know. He had bigger concerns right now.
"Renata," he said. "This isn't the best time."
"There is no best time, D. You know that. Is it a hard question to answer?"
"I can only tell you what I know, which is that I'm glad we're here together, and that we're fighting this war together. I trust you and have faith in you, and I genuinely enjoy your company. I don't know exactly where that fits in the hierarchy of male and female relationships."
He could tell that wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. A flash of disappointment crossed her face.
"Is it because of Ehri?"
When she said it, she didn't sound like the confident woman she had grown into. She seemed more like a little girl about to have her heart crushed.
"No. It isn't that. My job is to complete the mission and keep as many of you alive as I can. That's all that matters to me right now."
The confidence return in an instant. "I know. I'm being ridiculous, and I'm sorry. It's just that I've had this crush on you since I was twelve years old, and you never noticed me. You did a little bit when we were trapped on the Dread ship. Maybe it was just because you had lost so much blood. Maybe it was something else. Whatever. I didn't want to die without having said anything. I didn't want to die without letting you know how I feel."
"You aren't going to die. Is that understood, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, sir," Diaz said. Then she surprised him, stepping forward and leaning up on her toes to put her lips on his.
He didn't respond to the kiss, caught off guard and unwilling to complicate things. It passed quickly. She pulled away, looking up at him. "I'm sorry, Donnie. I always dreamed of kissing you, and I didn't want to die without doing that once either."
She turned on her heel and continued toward the cafeteria. Donovan watched her for a moment before trailing behind.
The cafeteria was already full when they entered, with all three hundred plus members of the community crowded around the tables and benches, and standing along the walls. They drew some stares when they walked in armed, and some of the people quieted. Donovan scanned them, finding Ehri and his mother standing with the parents of the children in the nursery. Ehri smiled and waved when she saw him.
