Redliners by David Drake

A pair of fuel-air grenades went off fifty yards away. Strikers were blowing a firebreak to keep the plasma-lighted blaze from spreading toward the ship. A pebble thrown from the explosions bounced off Farrell’s helmet, sounding like a gunshot. It didn’t hurt him, but even Lundie and the manager started at the noise.

“We’re going to get a storm,” Top said, looking southward past the transport’s nose. “Well, maybe it’ll cool things down. Not that I’m counting on it.”

Kuznetsov stood beside the staffer flying the aircar and called, “Everything checks out. Sir, are we clear to go?”

“When Mr. al-Ibrahimi gives you clearance,” Farrell said. Strike Force companies were used to operating as a law unto themselves. Farrell didn’t usually have a superior on the ground; but this time he did, and his strikers shouldn’t imply that nothing a civilian said mattered.

“Sir, perhaps you should go instead of me,” Lundie said. “The danger here probably is greater than—”

“There’s more than enough danger for everyone on BZ 459, Tamara,” al-Ibrahimi said. The tight-lipped blonde flinched as though al-Ibrahimi had whipped her across the face. It was the first time Farrell had heard him interrupt his aide. “The sooner the expedition removes to the proper site, the better off we’ll be. Please proceed with your duties.”

“Yes sir,” Lundie said. She turned to Suares and added in a louder but still wooden voice, “Councillor, we’re going now.”

Suares stood hand in hand with a plumpish woman of his own age, shorter than the councillor by ten inches as well as being soft in contrast to his gaunt angularity. They looked as though they belonged together nonetheless.

Councillor Suares bent and pecked a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “Be careful while I’m gone, my dear,” he said.

She patted the back of his hand. “You be careful, Joao,” she said. “Don’t forget where you are and go wandering around by yourself.”

“Sir?” said Top Daye. “The building superintendent wants to know if we can give her some strikers to manhandle heavy gear out of the ship. She doesn’t have the people to do it, not with it tilting like it is.”

The super, a stout woman with hairy arms named Rifkind, glared at Farrell in gloomy irritation. Two of her staffers watched from the hatchway.

Al-Ibrahimi heard the exchange. “No,” he said. “The colonists will supply the manpower. Major Farrell and his personnel are here for what we can’t provide for ourselves, protection.”

The aircar lifted into a hover, then turned and headed north in a gradual climb. Lieutenant Kuznetsov waved back to the strikers on the ground.

“Boy, I hope the Loot gets us some support damn quick,” Top said. “Not that I’m counting on it.”

Lightning flashed in the distant clouds.

Meyer twisted. The second leg piece separated and fell away. Sweat tacked the pants legs to her thighs.

“Bet you’re glad to be out of that suit,” said Methie. His visor was raised. His partner, another Third Platoon striker named Caldwell, wiped ash and grit from the belt of shells which hung from the cannon’s loading port.

“It’s okay,” Meyer said. She felt more comfortable in a hard suit than not, but if she said that they’d think she was losing her nerve. She was fine, pretty much. “You know how to handle that thing?”

Caldwell was the same size and build as Meyer, but she kept her scalp shaved so the tattoos could be seen clearly when she wasn’t wearing a helmet. She looked up and said, “I guess we can manage. We’ve got the specialty endorsement in our personnel jackets, if that’s what you mean.”

“Hey, sorry,” Meyer said. “It’s a hot day, okay?”

She gathered up the pieces of her hard suit. The arms, legs, and connectors seemed to weigh more in her hands than they did a moment before when she was wearing them.

“Hey, snake?” Methie said. “You and Nessman really waxed them bastards. Nice work.”

Meyer smiled and walked toward the command group with her gear. The aircar rose in a test run. Meyer closed her eyes so that the trash thrown up by the drive fans wouldn’t blind her. With her arms full, she couldn’t flip down her visor to cover her face.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136

Leave a Reply 0

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