“You’re late,” the female looking thing said handing her card back.
Kate didn’t answer.
The thing looked at Kate strangely for a moment before its eyes flicked to her uniform. Kate saw recognition flash into its eyes when it saw the ranger patch on her shoulder and linked it to Bethany. The thing’s face turned to stone, and its right hand slapped the hatch’s sensor… hard.
The hatch slid open, and again Kate backed through. She waited for it to close and lock before turning her attention upon the waiting room. She knew this place of old, but never had she seen the corridors adjoining it so full of people.
Soldiers in battle dress were entering and exiting the rooms seemingly at random. Battle dress was pretty much standard within the Alliance. It was composed of camouflage tunic and trousers with the lower legs bloused and tucked into boot tops as per regulations. Kate felt over dressed in her Class-A uniform (full dress uniform including medals) and couldn’t wait to get into her own battle dress so that she might blend in more readily. She was feeling exposed, not good for any ISS agent, and certainly not good for Kate Richmond.
“Planning on standing there all day?”
Kate’s eyes flew to the officer sitting behind the desk. She paled when she realised the lieutenant was another of the machines. How many were running loose in this place?
“Is this how you report to a superior officer, Private?”
Kate had no choice, but it was galling. She saluted and walked the last few steps to stand at attention before the desk. “PFC Richmond, reporting as ordered.”
“You’re late. Sightseeing were you?”
Kate clenched a fist. “Not willingly.”
“I know about the two cretins you were with, Richmond. They have no call on you. You, and both of them, had orders to report here at oh-seven-hundred. You should have informed them of the fact and then reported here.”
Kate clamped her lips shut. How dare this thing, this machine, berate her? She was not in the wrong… well all right, she was, but only a little bit! She released her pent breath and acknowledged the rebuke with a nod. Though annoying, it was just.
“I should have, but they outrank me.”
The lieutenant pursed her lips then said, “For the record, and for the duration of your testing, you have no superiors not wearing viper uniform. Understood?”
Kate blinked in confusion. “No. I see many who outrank me here.”
“Wrong. All are of equal rank while undergoing the testing. You will respect all those here, but orders will come only from those authorised to give them, namely viper personnel.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said doubtfully.
“My name is Lieutenant Hymas, and these are the rules. Regardless of your prejudices you will address me with respect—by rank or by the use of, sir or ma’am. Any other form of derogatory address to any viper will see you out of here and the service.” Hymas’ eyes flashed. “I guarantee it.”
“I am from Bethany’s World, ma’am, but I’m somewhat different to most living there.”
“I know,” Hymas said tapping her consol meaningfully. “It’s lucky for you in a way. In my opinion it will be a miracle if any from Bethany pass this testing. Other worlds are more tolerant of differences. That could be important later.”
“How so, ma’am?”
“I can’t say, and you are late. Your room is already taken. I have just assigned one of the spares to you. Walk to your left and enter room three-seventeen. You have some catching up to do. I suggest you get on with it.”
Kate saluted in haste and struggled through the crowded corridor to her room. Inside was utilitarian, but clean. She rather liked the beige colour of her table and chair. Firstly, she stowed her kit and changed into battle dress. Feeling better, she switched on her terminal and read the instructions. Moments later she was typing like a demon intent on proving to that damn… woman that she could ace any damn test a cyborg could think up.
* * *
“What do you think of her, Marion?” Master Sergeant Stone said buttoning his uniform and discarding the garish civ clothing he had worn on his tour of the concourse.
“I think she’s a bigoted snot. A damn dangerous one,” Lieutenant Hymas said, watching the retreating figure of PFC Richmond.
“Psychotic?”
“Beyond a doubt. She has a killer’s eyes. She’s not viper material, Ken. No one from Bethany is.”
“I don’t know about that. I thought she was going to kill those two Captains. They were leading her around like a damn tourist, and she was getting madder than hell. Her eyes were like laser turrets when she saw me for the third time. Damn glad she didn’t have her gear with her… not that she needs it.”
“She’s unenhanced, Ken. You have nothing to worry about—not yet at least. If I had my way she would be packed off to the psychs right now.”
“But you don’t,” Colonel Flowers said as he rounded the corner. “The General was specific and so are our requirements. She fits the profile, as do all the others here. We test the most likely candidates first, then the second best, then the third and so on until we have what we need.”
“Begging your pardon, Colonel,” Stone said. “But you know that method is as likely as any other to give us washouts. I’ve seen it and so have the both of you.”
Flowers nodded. “True, but it’s as good a way as any. Even if we had green recruits that fit the profile, which we don’t, they would take too long to train. You both know what’s required to survive enhancement. Finding recruits that can survive the process is hard enough. Finding some with the discipline and the mental strength to live with the results has proven almost impossible.”
Stone nodded reluctantly. “Marian thinks our little secret agent is a psycho.”
Flowers frowned and turned to Hymas. “A hunch or your expert medical opinion?”
“A little of both. She hates any kind of command authority, and tolerates it only to stay in the job. She will always find a way to avoid responsibilities, usually by picking a fight and getting busted. Her record is full of disciplinary offences. She’s been demoted five times from staff sergeant, three from corporal and get this: eight times recommended for promotion to master sergeant, all denied. They picked her for the ISS after she nearly killed her commanding officer with her bare hands. What does that say to you?”
Flowers smiled crookedly. “It says we have another Ken Stone on our hands.”
Stone spluttered. “That’s not fair, I didn’t kill you did I? Besides, I was only a kid back then. Two hundred and thirty years mellows a guy.”
“We don’t have two hundred and thirty years, Ken. We barely have five if the General is right.”
“Always is,” Stone said gloomily. “That’s a damn annoying habit he’s got there.”
Hymas glared in frustration. “Enhancing that girl, assuming she passes her psych eval, which I doubt she can, is a mistake! She’s too damn dangerous.”
“Vipers are dangerous,” Flowers said coldly. “We’re meant to be dangerous. You know how the process changes us. Some mellow while others become more aggressive, and it’s a tossup which.”
“If Richmond gets any more aggressive than she is now, we’ll need a damn sight more than ten units to stop her.”
“Make sure it doesn’t happen.”
“I’ll try—” Hymas began to say.
“Don’t try, do it,” Flowers snapped before stalking away.
Hymas stared at her Colonel’s back in hurt.
Stone could read her thoughts clearly, and the pain on her face. “Don’t mind him, Marian. He took the failure of Robbins hard. He doesn’t want a repeat performance that’s all.”
“We all liked Robbins. Why does he feel it more than the rest of us?”
His jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe she had said that. “Might be something to do with him being the one to take Robbins down.”
“Yeah, might be,” Hymas said not hearing his sarcasm.
* * *
Chapter 9
Training Centre, Alliance HQ, Sol System
In reality, Gina was lying in a simulator couch, but to her the fight she was engaged in was brutally real.
“…will take care of green sector.”
“Copy,” Gina said automatically as she studied the map displayed by her HUD.
Like all simulations, this one left her with a vague sense of unreality not easy to pin down. It was just a feeling—a kind of sixth sense that whispered in the back of her mind that all this was illusion. Sight, sound, smell, and touch were all handled by the sim. If she had occasion to eat, she was sure that taste would be also. The feeling of unreality wasn’t a physical thing—how could it be when the sim was entirely virtual? Nor was it due to the knowledge that her two companions were dead these many weeks on Thurston. Grace and Dan had been plucked from her memory and used to bring the simulation to life. Although she knew it was a sim and that her companions were dead, still they affected her as if they lived. She knew the sim made it happen, knew she had no choice but to feel this way, but it made no difference. She acted as if they lived, and the computer constructs did too. When she had a moment to really think, something she wasn’t given much time to do incidentally, she was angry at the violation bringing forth her friends represented, but it also gave her an opportunity to see them one last time.
“Eagle Two, Eagle One,” she said over her comm.
“Eagle Two, what’s up?” Grace said.
Gina smiled at hearing the well remembered voice. “We have a little job to do, Grace.”
“Bring ‘em on.”
“We have Merki troopers in our sector.” She tapped a control on her wristcomp to highlight green sector on all their HUD maps. “We flush them out.”
“How many?” Pags asked.
“Only three.”
“Three?” Grace said. “You’re sure?”
She was about to nod but hesitated. She had only been taking these tests for a week, but already she knew Stone could be sneaky. “That’s what the intelligence suggests, but we take nothing for granted. We clear our streets and await orders.”
“Copy,” Pags said.
“Copy that, I’ll take point,” Grace said.
“Not this time Grace,” Gina said quietly. “I’ll take it.”
“But—”
“That’s an order, Eagle Two.”
“Copy,” Grace said reluctantly.
It was uncanny how closely the constructs’ reactions mirrored the real Dan and Grace. It was only Gina’s knowledge that they were in the simulator room that told her they weren’t real people.
Gina moved out using her sensors to sweep ahead and to the sides. The first trooper opened fire the instant her sensors picked him up. She was diving to the left even as the searing bolt of plasma came her way. It missed by bare millimetres. So close was it, the nanocoat of her armour reacted as if taking a hit. It took mere nanoseconds for her armour to stiffen and for its surface to become reflective. The heat of the plasma branded her neck and stung like crazy.
Grace opened up on the shop front with the AAR and Pags finished the job by hosing the place on full auto. Gina got off a couple of shots from where she lay prone just as the simulated world flashed red indicating a good kill.
“Are you okay?” Pags said through his open visor. He pulled Gina to her feet. “Speak to me.”
“I’m okay, stop fussing,” she said and winced as she tentatively touched her burned neck.
“Okay. It’s just… okay.”
Gina shivered at the real sounding emotion in the construct’s voice. He sounded so real, so alive. “Let’s finish our business. As before, I’ll take point.”
They didn’t argue with her. This time they tried disapproving silence.
* * *
“No, no, no.” Stone glared at the monitors showing Fuentez throwing away her chance. “Dammit!”
The technician glanced at him and then back to her controls. She didn’t like him, but that was okay. He was used to it.
Stone knew Fuentez was good at the job; Eric’s download of the Thurston op proved that. Her permanent file was replete with commendations; acts of courage under fire, comments on her coolness during the chaos of battle… she had medals galore. Her fitness to command was not in question. She was everything a good officer should be, but she was letting her inner demons take over. He knew her as he knew himself. She had lost friends, worse she felt responsible for the loss. He had lost thousands of friends, and was responsible for countless other deaths, but you had to go on. Vipers couldn’t allow sentiment to get in the way of the job. The job was all a viper really had. After two hundred and more years of strife, they were all a little crazy, but one thing above all they lived for—the Alliance. Fuentez was throwing away her chance to make an impact on the Alliance’s future, and there was nothing he could do about it… or was there?
He frowned as Fuentez took out the first target, two more and the sim was over. He nodded as the decision crystallised into action. First, she needed to be slowed down so he had time to do something. He began furiously typing in his commands all the while wishing they were home. He could do a lot more with viper equipment, and it was faster too. This junk didn’t have a port to accept commands from his weapon’s bus. The keyboard would have to do.
He typed fast.
* * *
“Move out,” Gina said to her electronic henchman.
Grace moved left, Pags right, while Gina moved up the middle of the street. Pags nodded abruptly and Gina dove for cover just as a sniper took a pot shot at her. The pain was shockingly real.
Grace returned fire and the world flashed red confirming the kill.
Back on her feet, Gina staunched the blood pouring from her shoulder grimacing at the pain all the while. The wound was bad. The high velocity slug had gone straight through her shoulder. She struggled out of her armour, tore her uniform clear of the wound, and coated it using the canister of synthskin Grace held out to her. The synthetic sealant mimicked skin to prevent blood loss, and would aid her bots in their job of repairing the damage.
“Here, gimme,” Grace said taking the canister and spraying the exit wound in her back. “You damn fool, what was that stunt?”
“I know what I’m doing,” she grunted trying not to shout with the pain as she pulled her armour back on.
“Do you? You could have fooled me.”
Gina hefted her rifle and winced as her shoulder shifted. “We have a job to do. I don’t have time for lectures.”
She pointed at Grace and indicated a house-by-house sweep for the last one. Pags came across the road with his weapon swinging left and right. Grace kicked in the door, and Gina shoulder rolled inside to fire into the shadows. In the real world, she flinched in her couch as the recoil hammered her wounded shoulder painfully. She grunted, but fired again. The world flashed red confirming the third and final kill, but something was wrong. She did not awaken.
* * *
“Do it now,” Stone said to his assistant in the simulator room.
The technician opened her mouth to protest the illegal order, but one look at his face had her gulping and keying in the hastily programmed sequence.
* * *
Grace came into the house walking sideways keeping her back to the wall. “Upstairs,” she whispered over the comm. “I thought I heard something.”
Gina frowned and rose to her feet. Something wasn’t right about this. “Take point, Eagle Two. Pags, you bring up the rear and cover me.”
“Eagle Three copies.”
Gina shook her head and frowned. Something definitely wasn’t right, but what was it? There was something bugging her, nagging her. This was just a sim.
What sim?
“Copy, proceeding on mission,” Grace said responding just a little late for her.
What mission? She wanted to rub her temples. She couldn’t think straight. This was all wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here, she was su
pposed to be… she was supposed to be… she started to panic as she realised she couldn’t remember what they were doing. Grace was oblivious to her agitation. She ascended the stairs leading the way for her squad as she had always done. She climbed one step at a time, moving silently with her AAR pointed at the balcony and into the trees.
Trees… what the hell…
The buzzing in Gina’s head was getting worse. What the hell was wrong? She glanced back looking for the source of the noise, but she didn’t find it. Pags moved up behind her with his weapon scanning the other way.
“Eagle One, Eagle Two,” Grace whispered.
“Eagle One. Go,” she said shaking her head at her preoccupation.
“I have motion ahead, less than a klick and moving fast. Might be the package.”
Package? What…
“Take no chances, Grace. I have nothing on my sensors.”
Gina looked around and could hardly make out the stairs she was climbing. She wiped her visor but it didn’t help. She felt weird, something was wrong with the sim.
What sim?
* * *
“She’s hyperventilating. We have to stop,” the frightened technician protested. She reached for the abort control, but Stone’s hand clamped her wrist like a vice.
“No,” he said coldly. “Go to full sensory.”
When she failed to comply, he pushed her aside and keyed the command himself. He watched with satisfaction as the readings slowly returned to normal.
Normal for combat.
The matrix took a firm hold, and Fuentez was back on Thurston.
* * *
Gina breathed a deep sigh of relief as her confusion sloughed off. She remembered the package Grace was talking about. That’s right. Stein had ordered her to meet someone and escort him back to base.
“I can’t see a damn thing through these trees,” she said in frustration. She dialled X2 on her optics and smiled in satisfaction. “I have him Eagle Two. That’s our boy. Hold here and I’ll go get him.”
Merkiaari Wars: 02 - What Price Honour Page 13
