Inside the domed area of the cave, Marines were unpacking the four oh-gee sleds after the main floor area had been cleared of loose rocks. Several of the misting devices used to control insects had been started and the air had begun to clear almost immediately. Within minutes, the insects that hadn't managed to get out of the cavern area were dropping to the floor. Within ten minutes there wouldn't be an insect left alive in the cave unless it happened to be immune to the spray.
Other Marines were setting up a food preparation area. It would be the first meal they'd had since leaving their former camp almost twenty-four hours ago, and although prepared from emergency ration packs, no one doubted that it would taste like some of the best food they'd had in weeks. Hunger would do that to a person.
Kennedy walked over to where Sydnee was sitting and plopped down next to her. She heard on Com 2, "I'm glad you're with us."
"You are?" she replied after activating her transmit feature from the menu with a wink of her eye.
"Of course. We could have gotten stuck with Weems."
"Lieutenant Weems is an excellent pilot," Sydnee said, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. She was once again glad she was wearing the helmet so Kennedy couldn't read her face and see the anger there. "He would have gotten you down just as safely as I did."
"Of course he is and would have, but he doesn't spend much time in the gym anymore. I doubt he could have kept up with the platoon today. We would probably have had to carry him or leave some supplies along the way so he could ride on one of the oh-gee sleds. You kept up great today because you work out regularly."
"Uh, thanks, but I'm sure Lt. Weems would have surprised you."
"If you say so."
"I do. It would have been nice to have a few dozen oh-gee sleds, though. I've been thinking about that all day as we slogged through the swamps. We could have made better time getting away from the rebel camp."
"The Corps tried to come up with something awhile back. In the end, they decided that the idea was impractical. The equipment just wasn't stealthy enough."
"Not stealthy? The oh-gee process is totally silent."
"The oh-gee part wasn't the problem; that's noiseless. The problem was the propulsion. Any kind of jet or even thruster makes far too much noise where total silence is required."
"I wasn't even thinking of self-propelled. If we had a bunch of sleds, we could have given one to each fire team. Only one member would then have had to slog through the swamp while the others rode. Pulling an oh-gee sled is almost effortless because there's no resistance from the ground to overcome, and the one acting as a draft animal could have switched with the others every thirty minutes or so."
"Yeah, it could work. Of course, none of us expected to be in this situation. We intended to use the MAT to land near the rebel camp with a force large enough to capture them in a surprise raid. I hope the Perry returns soon so we can finish the job here and get off this planet."
"Rett, you have to face facts. The Perry might not be coming back. If everything was well with them, we'd have heard back by now."
"Maybe. Or maybe it's just some space anomaly that's preventing us from receiving their messages."
"If they were sending and not getting replies, they'd be here by now to check on us. It has to be that they can't come. I think we should circle back to the rebel camp."
"Go back? What for?"
"If I can commandeer a shuttle, we'll at least have a chance of surviving down here."
"Absolutely not. My scouts have reported that there are about seventy rebels behind us. If we circle back, we'll have seventy rebels behind and two hundred in front of us. I don't intend to be caught between two rebel forces. Besides, they have those fighters we saw. They'd be after you before you could get away. One rocket is all it would take to shoot you down."
"We'd have sabotaged their fighters before taking the shuttle."
"Syd, there are almost three hundred rebels who must, by now, have a burning desire to see every one of us dead. To return to their camp would be the most foolhardy thing we could do."
"That's just it. They'll never expect it. They believe we're still out here somewhere, and be unprepared for another assault."
"I already went way outside my instructions when I ordered the attack, but I had to make sure the rebels could never use that ordnance. However, we got away clean, and I don't intend to stick my head into the lion's mouth a second time."
"Rett, it's our only chance. Without a shuttle, we'll spend the rest of our days slogging through swamps until the rebels catch us or this planet kills us. That is if we don't run out of food first."
"We just have to evade the rebels until the Perry comes back. They wouldn't desert us."
Sydnee rolled her eyes, glad Kennedy couldn't see her face. "No, they would never desert us, but they might not be able to return. Why can't you understand that the Perry might have been destroyed?"
"By a bunch of rag-tag rebels? Never. Why, that bunch couldn't even commandeer a diplomatic yacht."
"Then why are we running?"
"I, uh, don't want to lose even one Marine. I know we could defeat them in a fight, but we might be bloodied. And for no reason. Once the Perry returns, we'll mop them up with less chance of anyone being killed."
Sydnee knew that she wasn't going to change Kennedy's mind— at least not yet. If the Perry failed to return in the days ahead, he might begin to accept that it wasn't coming back. Sydnee believed their best chance for survival lay with commandeering one of the small ships the rebels had acquired with the destroyer. If she could get a tug, she might even get the MAT out of the sinkhole. Tugs were all engine, except for a small flight deck, and would have no trouble getting the MAT out of the hole if they got to it before it got too covered with dirt. The weight of the dirt wasn't a problem, but it could prevent the tug from locking onto the MAT with its magnetic skids. For that matter, Sydnee wasn't even sure if the tug could get a magnetic grip on a Dakinium-sheathed ship.
"Listen up, everyone," Staff Sergeant McKenzie announced on the Com 1 frequency. "The bugs appear to be dead. At least there's nothing flying around in here. Everyone can remove their helmets and even strip off their armor if they aren't scheduled for guard duty."
Within seconds, most of the helmets were off. After days of living like sardines in a can, the Marines couldn't wait to strip down to shorts and tees. A few put on fatigues, but many opted for the simpler look. Kennedy didn't insist on proper military decorum and settled for shorts and a tee himself. Because of the rough surface on the floor of the cave, almost everyone wore combat boots. Sydnee opted for the soft-soled boots all SC personnel wore aboard ship.
While the armor was designed for long-term wear under emergency conditions, it did have shortcomings. It contained nutrient packs that were replaceable without removing the armor, recycled all water waste to drinkable condition, and provided for solid waste storage, but it left a lot to be desired in comfort. Although everyone was delighted to be free for the present, they didn't waste time in seeing to the cleaning and care of their armor for its next use. A small unit that could clean and dry five padded bodysuits at a time was set up. Although specially treated not to absorb body oils and odors, the padded bodysuits did need to be cleaned occasionally.
Cleaning functions were intended to be performed aboard the MAT where the armor could be completely removed, but that hadn't been possible since landing on the planet. While at the original camp, they had risked removing their helmets only for eating, and then only in the CP tent or one of the shelters where the insect misting devices killed all insects. Sydnee had once contemplated the agony of having an insect or insects buzzing around inside her helmet if she had to remove it and then replace it while outside.
Thin gravity-shielding cloth, like that used in gel-comfort beds, was used for bedrolls. Suspended as much as a quarter of a meter above the bedroll, depending upon their weight, the Marine would float in complete comfort as the normal gravity field cur
ved over the bedroll and again took hold to keep him or her from floating too high. While encased in armor, no comfort would be derived from using the bedrolls, but once they'd stripped it off, the bedrolls made a world of difference.
"That's much better," Kennedy said, as he settled atop his bedroll after cleaning his armor, taking a turn inside the portable shower, and grabbing some chow.
"Almost makes you feel human again," Sydnee said.
Looking at Sydnee's food plate, Kennedy remarked, "Are you actually going to eat that thing?"
"You mean the Grepper?"
"Is that what it's called?"
"I think so. I'm pretty sure that I heard it was a delicacy on some planets, but I didn't know where it came from. Sergeant Booth put it into the alien food analyzer and it tested safe, so he skinned it, cut it up, and rolled the pieces in flour before frying them."
"How does it taste?"
"It has a consistency kinda like chicken, with a slightly fishy taste. It's good. Want to try a piece?"
"No thanks, I'll pass. After spending most of the day in swamps, the last thing I want is something that tastes fishy."
Following a brief lull in the conversation during which time both officers managed to partially fill the void in their midsections, Sydnee said, "I wonder how the rebels on our trail are making out."
"Corporal Jenkins reported they've bedded down for the evening. They have some kind of insect-control device, but it's apparently not a hundred percent effective in the open. Jenkins said he could hear a lot of cursing and slapping from his vantage point."
"This cave has to be like a luxury hotel compared to being out in the open. We lucked out."
"Yes, we really did luck out. I don't know how much longer we could have continued to run from them tonight. There are no decent maps of this area, other than basic topographic stuff, so I was just trying to put as much distance between us and the rebels as possible to ensure they couldn't see lights or smell food from our camp. I never expected to find a cave that was so ideal for a camp."
"Too bad we can't lay over for a few days and rest up."
"Yes, but the rebels will be scouring the landscape for us. Their trackers are good. They'll find our trail once it's light. We'll have to get up early and be ready to pull out at daybreak."
"Couldn't our scouts create a false trail that leads away from this area?"
"Our rear guard tried that twice today. The rebel trackers saw through our attempts and were back on our real trail in no time."
"If we can't shake them, what are we going to do?"
"We have no choice," Kennedy said. "We run until we find a good, defensible position, then set up an ambush and hope we can change their minds about pursuing us."
"I doubt if we'll find a more defensible position than right here. We're protected from air attack, can't be outflanked because there's only one entrance in, and the walls provide better protection from ground attack than anything we're likely to find."
"The single entrance is the problem. They could blow the ridge above us and collapse it on the entrance, burying us alive."
"We supposedly destroyed all their heavy ordnance. Without mortars, they'll be limited to hand grenades. Whatever damage they do can be undone later with our Corplastizine charges."
"We don't know that they have no mortars. There may have been small stocks elsewhere that we didn't spot, or even stored in one of the shuttles."
"I still don't think we'll find a more defensible position. You really should try this Grepper, Rett. It's delicious."
* * *
"Well?" Currulla asked when Suflagga finished taking the reports from his people in the field.
"The Spaccs keep changing direction. We've set up ambushes in two locations and then had to shut them down when the Spaccs went in another direction."
"They discovered your traps?"
"No, they weren't close enough. It's as if they have no real destination and are just wandering around."
"To what end?"
"I don't know. They might be hoping to divide our forces."
"They're succeeding. We have seventy men on their trail and another seventy setting up ambushes. That's half our force here, and the ones that are left are only support personnel. They'd be useless for tracking or ambushes. And they're so out of shape they'd collapse if you asked them to walk even two kilometers through that miserable jungle."
"I know, I know."
"We can't keep our people chasing Spaccs around this planet forever."
"I know, I know."
"You have to end this quickly."
"I know, I know."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
"You said you were a professional."
"The ambush plan is all I have.
"You only had one plan?"
"Our ordnance has been blown to hell, my battalion is composed mostly of farmers and store clerks, and the enemy isn't following a rational withdrawal route after a highly successful strike against us that has demoralized the camp. My options are limited."
"Your job is to locate and kill the swine that attacked us and murdered our men. I suggest you find a way to do that or I'll find someone who can."
"If I can get them into our gun sights, we'll kill every last one. And I'll bring you their heads."
"Please," Currulla said a little squeamishly as he raised his hand with the palm facing Suflagga, "no severed heads."
Chapter Seventeen
~ Feb. 27th, 2285 ~
Sydnee awakened to the sounds of people moving around. She opened her eyes and was shocked for an instant to see the roof of the cave high overhead; then she remembered where they were. She pulled back the light thermal blanket, sat up, then stood. The first order of business was use of the portable latrine curtained off from the rest of the cave.
After emerging relieved and refreshed, she took a good look around. She was surprised to see that no one was packing up. She saw Kennedy at the com station and walked over to stand next to him. "I thought we were leaving at daybreak," she said.
"Change of plans. I decided to follow your idea."
"Really," she said, her eyes opening wide. She wondered what had gotten him to change his mind. "When do we leave?"
"We're going to stay, as you suggested last night."
"Oh, I thought you meant we were going to grab a shuttle."
"Com'on, Syd. That idea is nuts. They know we're here now and will be on high alert. We'd never even get close to their ships."
"Have you at least identified their location so we know what they have?"
"Yeah, we've been watching their camp using the two surveillance cameras we left there. We found where the ships are parked. It's about a kilometer from the area where the supplies were dropped. I guess the supplies used up all the cleared space so they had to park the ships at the next available clearing. They have three shuttles, one tug, and two fighters. The distance from the main camp is the reason we didn't spot them before our raid."
"Too bad, that would have been the ideal time to commandeer one."
"Spilt milk."
"What?"
"That's something my Mom always said about things that couldn't be changed because they were in the past. It's best not to think about them."
"Your Mom obviously wasn't in the military."
"Why obviously?"
"Military people must always continue to review past incidents, their own and those of others, to make sure they don't make similar mistakes in the future."
Kennedy face contorted slightly. He obviously didn't like to be reminded that he had somehow failed to consider every aspect of the raid on the rebel camp. "Get some rest and forget about the damn shuttles," he said as he turned and walked away.
Sydnee watched his back for a few seconds and then turned towards the food preparation area where Marines were queuing up for breakfast. She hurried to get in line.
* * *
"Well?" Currulla said as he
walked over to the table where Suflagga stood staring at a holo-map.
"They're in there somewhere."
"You mean you haven't found them yet?"
"My people have traversed this entire jungle area during the past two days. They could not have gotten past us, yet the trackers arrived at the ambush point without ever seeing a single sign of them."
"Perhaps they were air-lifted out."
"NO," Suflagga said vehemently. "They're there. They're still there."
"Where?"
"I— don't know."
"Up in the trees perhaps?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Underwater, in the swamp then? Perhaps they have a secret base under there."
Suflagga glared at Currulla for a second before saying, "Don't be ridiculous. We just missed them somehow. They must have some new kind of camouflage. It's like they just disappeared. We've searched for them from the air, but we haven't seen any of those strange cold areas, or any indication of body heat except for our own people; we've been able to identify every one of them."
"But your best trackers were following their trail."
"They lost that after the all-night downpour we had two days ago. It wiped out all trace of the trail."
"So what do we do now?"
"I don't know."
"Is this the great twenty-four-year military leader speaking?"
"Look, this isn't some garden variety smuggling group. This has to be an elite group of Space Command's finest troops. How they happened to be on that destroyer, I don't know. But we're up against the best Space Command has."
"Or perhaps your people aren't as good as you thought."
"My people are good. I trained them myself, and we were chosen for this mission by X. If you had been able to stop that diplomatic yacht like you were supposed to, you would have seen a model board-and-secure operation. We practiced for a full month. Only twenty of the personnel in this operation are mine. The rest involved in this disaster are yours, and most couldn't find their lunch in a paper sack."
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