McCaffrey, Anne & Elizabeth Ann Scarborough – Powers That Be. Chapter 15, 16

Chapter 15

Gun in hand, Yana held off Giancarlo, Torkel, and Ornery until the wounded were loaded. Torkel had relented enough to help, while Ornery and Giancarlo stood by, glaring malevolently at Yana. The last thing O’Shay did before he slammed the door shut was to fling out a red-and-white-striped rectangle. Picking it up, Yana identified it as an emergency rations pack and blessed the pilot’s thoughtfulness. The four remaining survivors of the expedition were suffering from shock, and the high-energy rations would do much to revive them.

“If he thinks that’s going to save him from a court-martial, he’s got another thing coming.” Giancarlo snorted as the copter lifted off. To Ornery-eyes he barked, “Don’t just stand there, Levindoski. Commandeer that pack. We’ll need those supplies on our search and rescue of Dr. Fiske and his party.”

“Uh-uh,” Yana said. “Not so fast, Colonel. You’re not commandeering shit just yet. These folks need to chow down first.” She pointed to the nearest survivor, a gaunt-faced man whose pocket nametag was half burned off. “Connelly?” she said, reading what was left. “Why don’t you distribute? You’ll want the yellow ones-they’ll replace electrolytes and boost your energy levels.”

Keeping one eye on her and the gun she held, Connelly retrieved the sack. With a pang of pity Yana saw that he was sufficiently fatigued so that it took him three yanks to break the labs, and half the bars and drink packets spewed over the ground. She stepped back and motioned for the others to help.

“Wait!” Torkel cried with a tinge of desperation. Yana turned to him. His eyes, watching the survivors scoop up the supplies, reflected a struggle with his emotions for the sort of control and charm that had always been a hallmark of his command personality. “Yana, please be reasonable. You know we’re going to need those …”

“Torkel, if I was you I’d shut the frag up,” Yana said, waving the gun at him. “You didn’t exactly cover yourself with glory trying to take the copter away from the wounded and you’re not improving things by trying to prevent the distribution of emergency rations to these survivors. As for me, I ate a while back.”

Connelly, who had been handing the packets out to the others, contemptuously threw four at Torkel’s feet. “Sorry, buddy. Didn’t know you’d missed your bloody lunch.”

“It’s not that,” Torkel said, wisely leaving the packets alone for the moment. “She’s distorting this incident to make us look bad in your eyes, hoping you’ll aid her.”

“Which you are now doing by eating those rations,” Giancarlo said sternly. “If you value your careers, you’ll listen to Captain Fiske here and cooperate with our mission.”

“Careers!” said another man, whose ashy parka bore the name “O’Neill.” “Sure now, Colonel darlin’,” he went on, his face angry, his words soft, and the Irish in his accent dangerously broad, the way the Petaybean accent became when mocking the stupidity of ; higher-ups. “We’re that worried about our careers havin’ just outrun yer volcano there. Seems to me that if it’s our lives we’re after valuin’, the dama’s the one to be listenin’ to.” He deliberately and defiantly chewed and swallowed a large hunk of his ration bar.

“Colonel Giancarlo, please,” Torkel said. “I know you mean well but you’re playing into her hands.”

Watching his face, in which the desperation she had seen before was now suppressed, she saw him begin to calculate the effect of each word and attitude on the survivors. He was smart enough to know that he had alienated them initially, and smart enough to know that if he wanted to regain control of the situation he was going to have to have them on his side. “Folks, you’ll have to forgive Colonel Giancarlo. He doesn’t mean to sound callous but he’s absolutely right. Our mission is one of the utmost priority and this woman has sided with the Petaybean insurgents creating this catastrophe!”

His arm swept across the devastation behind the survivors, the pulsing mud in the valley at their heels, the glow of the volcano visible even through the ashy miasma cloaking the area.

“Right,” Connelly said, “one skinny little woman, with or without help, caused a volcano? I’m a mining engineer, Captain. Pull the other one.”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *