Vorpal Blade votsb-2, page 36
part #2 of Voyage of the Space Bubble Series
“Works for me, sir,” MacDonald said, nodding. “I don’t want to lose more Marines, obviously, but on the other hand… Hell, sir, I hate to run from a fight.”
“Oorah,” the first sergeant said.
“XO?”
“Escape from Saigon if it comes to it,” the XO said, nodding. “Let’s hope nobody gets photos this time.” The pictures of helicopters picking up the last personnel from the American embassy in Saigon were some of the worst from a PR perspective of the entire war.
“We can, quite literally, do the same thing with this boat,” the CO pointed out. “One day to get negotiations done and then we’ll drop the materials for the base. Captain MacDonald, you will remain on the ground. We’ll drop from time to time to rotate the platoon.”
“Yes, sir,” MacDonald said.
“We will remain for no more than two weeks,” the CO said. “We don’t have consumables for more. Dr. Chet?”
“Yes, Captain,” the doctor rumbled.
“I understand that you took over food testing from bio,” the CO said. “Any advances?”
“Oh, many,” Dr. Chet said. “So far, most of the foods I’ve found are consumable by animals. They have no useable vitamins in them, but they have many of the same sugars and peptides as Earth foods. There is one problem, though. There is a possibility of long-term side effects. I would not suggest permitting the food to be eaten without widespread testing. Food allergies is another issue. Those, however, can be dealt with. Things like prions cannot. If food is eaten, I would suggest that people stick to the grains and fruits. Less possibility of prion poisoning. Miss Moon has reported eating some of the fruit that I cleared with no ill effects. And she is… finicky.”
“Tell her next time to ask me first,” the CO said. “Okay, come up with a list of acceptable consumables. We can get protein and sugars from them, right?”
“Oh, yes,” Dr. Chet said. “All the same amino acids as Earth and the same simple sugars. Benefits of a Type One biosphere. And they, of course, can eat us. But no vitamins. At least, none that I’ve found so far.”
“XO, if we take on local foodstuffs, how long can we stay?”
“Until we run out of parts, sir,” the XO said. “About two months at a guess. Depends on what breaks first. And there’s always duct tape. The sub service proverbially runs on duct tape.”
“We’re due back on Earth before then,” the CO said. “And we don’t want to be overdue. It would cause too much concern. Very well, prepare to drop a ground base. See if we can get some cleared fruits at least. Some fresh food would be welcome.”
“I’ll coordinate with Miss Moon on both, sir,” Captain MacDonald said.
“Anything else we need to discuss?” the CO asked, looking around. “Commander Weaver, head back to the palace and pass on the plan. Let’s get cracking.”
“No indicators of Demon activity?” Lieutenant Souza said.
The ship did have one intel specialist, a Navy seaman who had been compiling all the information about the Demons that was available. Jeff Waggoner had been a very busy boy.
“No, sir,” the seaman said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. With his crewcut and large ears his head looked like nothing so much as a giant vase. The Coke-bottle glasses and tiny office scattered with paper simply completed the look that defined the “Intel Geek.” “I’ve only got two indicators of Demon activity and those distant from our position. Our sector appears to be clear of Demon activity at this time, sir.”
“So the boat should be clear of Demon activity for at least two days?” Lieutenant Souza said.
“Unless indicators change radically, yes, sir,” Waggoner said, pushing his glasses back up.
“Commander Beeel is a male?” Lady Che-chee asked.
She had returned to Court shortly after the first meeting and after a brief meeting with the queen had become the primary liaison with the humans. In that role, she was trying to impart some aspects of Cheerick society on Miriam while being shocked and dismayed in what she was discovering about humans.
“Why, yes,” Miriam said. “Most of our military is male. There are females in it, many, and some of them of fairly high level. But it is still a primarily male profession. When we were in the islands we encountered an all-male party and your son is a warrior, isn’t he?”
“Well, yes,” Lady Che-chee said. “But he’s a warrior. He will never be a commander! Males are far too flighty. I mean, look at his silly display when you landed! I had come to understand you were a female and your bodyguard is a male, but I thought that natural.”
“What are you talking about?” Chief Warrant Officer Miller asked.
“Male-female relationships in Cheerick society,” Miriam said delicately, then turned back to Lady Che-chee. “Chief Miller is a bit more than my bodyguard. I know nothing about war and would not begin to think I do. He is not only a very famous warrior on our planet but one of the ship’s senior advisers on ground combat. The Commander Weaver is a male, the ship’s captain, Captain Blankemeier is a male, and even the person I referred to as our queen is, in fact, a male. For now. It is possible that the next will be a female. We rotate our highest position every four years.”
“How do they learn their jobs?” Lady Che-chee asked, aghast. “It takes at least that long for a queen to become accustomed to her position! Most of her decisions in her first four years are awful if she doesn’t listen to her advisers.”
“They serve in lesser capacities prior to that job,” Miriam said. “And… they are not born to it. They are chosen by the full body of the citizens in a process called democracy. They contest for the job and then are voted upon.”
“So they, too, are warriors,” Lady Che-chee said. “The best warrior is not necessarily the best leader, miss.”
“Clarification,” Miriam said, grinning. “They don’t physically fight for it. They give speeches, participate in debates, things like that. Some have been, as you would call it, warriors, others not.”
“Your society is very confusing,” Lady Che-chee said.
“As is yours,” Miriam said. “So only females can be leaders?”
“Once they pass through the Change, yes,” Lady Che-chee said. “Before that, they are Breeders. Only Mothers can be leaders.”
“The Change?” Miriam asked.
“Young females are only Breeders,” Lady Che-chee said. “We are… very dumb. They can barely speak, but when you are a Breeder you hear and remember much. Families such as mine, in fact, instruct their Breeders despite the fact that at the time they understand very little. Then when we stop breeding, we go through the Change. It’s a very strange time. Suddenly, things begin making sense. Or make less sense. It is said there is nothing more intelligent than a Mother just post-Change nor more stupid. I know that was how I was. My Mother was a Lady of a small farm, my father a priest. I was instructed in many arts as a Breeder but didn’t understand them until I passed the Change. There was no position for me so my Mother obtained a commission for me in the queen’s forces. All of my lands accrued from my service with the queen and other positions I took over the years. But all of that was after the Change.”
“And your son?” Miriam asked.
“He was kept by my Mother and father until he grew large enough to obtain a commission as well,” Lady Che-chee said. “By then I was a general and prepared to retire. He has been posted to one of the cavalry regiments. That was shortly before I purchased the estates. He is a sheshar, a junior cavalryman. Most of the soldiers are males, the officers are all Mothers. I know of only two males considered both wise enough and fierce enough to be officers and they are both very low rank. Good fellows, but not someone you’d make a general.”
“I see,” Miriam said, trying not to grin.
“Okay, I need some of that translated, obviously,” Miller said. “I can tell when there’s something somebody doesn’t want to tell me.”
“It’s sort of complicated,” Miriam said, still trying not to grin.
29
Now You Think of That
“Third’s going on initial deployment,” Sergeant Jaenisch said. “They’ll be on the ground for two weeks with the science team, then we’ll drop for two weeks. After that, we have to go home. The boat’s running short on spares and our CO2 filters are about shot.”
“Sounds good to me,” Guppy said. “Let grapping Third take the heat this time.”
“I heard that, Guppy,” Sergeant Samson caroled from down the compartment.
“First and Second took a hammering on Runner’s,” Tanner pointed out. “Time for us to earn our pay.”
“Hey, we were on Runner’s too,” Lance Corporal Revells said.
“Yeah, and Two-Gun saved your ass,” Sergeant Jaenisch said. “This time, though, you’re on your own.”
“We’re going to be dropping a Barrett for the SEAL chief,” Revells said. “That should take care of any old demon.”
“Anybody asks me about it on the after-actions report,” Tanner said, “I’m going to recommend bigger guns. Screw these damned 7.62 mm Gatlings.”
“And rocket launchers,” Sergeant Samson said, making a “whoosh” sound. “And claymores.”
“The ship needs a cannon mount, too,” Revells said.
“Yeah, and we need a tank while you’re at it,” Hatt said. “Couple of F-18s with JDAMs wouldn’t be turned down. Make that a carrier. Oh, wait, that won’t fit. Where, exactly, are we going to put a cannon on the ship?”
“We can put it in the bunk area for one platoon,” Guppy said, gesturing at the empty bunks. “Plenty of room there,” he added bitterly.
“I’d rather have the troops,” Jaen said. “But I agree on the heavier firepower. We definitely need .50 calibers. 7.62 mm just don’t cut it.”
“We’ve got ’em,” Sergeant Samson said sarcastically. “Old Two-Gun will always save the day!”
“Sergeant, with all due respect,” Berg said. “Take a flying—”
“Third Platoon!” Gunny Hedger said. “Get your ass down to the missile bay! We need to prep load out!”
“On the way, Gunny,” Samson caroled. “Hold that thought, Two-Gun. I’m interested to see how it ends.”
“How were you going to end that without ending up on report?” Sergeant Jaen asked. “Because if you were going to end it the way I think you were going to end it—”
“ ’Take a flying jump on a squealing chinchilla,’ ” Berg said. “What did you think I was going to say, Sergeant?”
“We appreciate your offer, Commander Beeel,” the queen squeaked. “I understand that you must return to your homes soon. But if the Demons attack, we are united in defense, this is agreed?”
“Agreed,” Bill said through Miriam’s translation. “We normally try to coordinate with local forces in something like this, but we are hampered by language. But in the event of attack, we will respond. We do need some things, however, to remain. Our doctor has determined that some of your food is partially edible. We cannot survive on it, but we have had no fresh food for some months. We would like to get some food from you. We also would like to establish a ground base near the palace so that we can help in the defense of your city. So we will need a spot of land. And it will be dug up because we intend to build a small fort for defense. We will put tents in there that will allow us to come out of our armor. We will put some of our ground forces in that fort. Some will remain on the ship. It will then withdraw into the air. From there it has weapons that can fire down to attack the Demons and also drop the remaining Marines in places where they are needed.”
“This is a wonderful ability,” the queen said. “But can they not use boards?”
“We do not have boards, Your Majesty,” Weaver said. “We are, in fact, interested in how they work. But until we understand them, we must use the ship.”
The queen had brought up one of her commanders to stand equal with the high priest on her other side. She waved him down and there was a whispered colloquy before she turned back, her nose wrinkling.
“They have fourteen boards they’re willing to let us use,” Miriam said. “In fact, if all goes well, we can keep them.”
“Go for it,” Miller said. “Hell, the Wyverns might be able to drop from orbit on those things.”
“We don’t know if they’ll take Wyverns,” Weaver said. “We need to experiment. But, yes, Miriam, offer her our thanks.”
“General Chuk-tuk also points out that we have a disused barracks,” the queen said. “It is based on an old fort. You might wish to look it over and see if you can make of it a sanctuary for your fighters.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Weaver said. “I will communicate that to my commander.”
“We will meet in privy counsel at sunset,” the queen said. “Please discuss this with your commander and if you must use open space, by that time we will find it. We appreciate your willingness to aid us in our time of need. Though we do not have your wonderful devices, we Cheerick are strong, able and courageous. Never will we forget your aid, win or lose.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Bill said, bending over as far as he could in the armor. It was as close as he could get to a bow.
“There’s no place to effectively drop the ship on palace grounds,” Weaver said. “The commander of local forces, though, is preparing a cart caravan. It will bring out some fresh food and pick up the materials for the base. In the meantime they suggest staying here with Lady Che-chee.”
“What about this fort?” Captain MacDonald asked.
“It’s in good condition,” Bill replied. “I’m not sure if we can perfectly seal it, though. And we’ll have to decontaminate the interior.”
“We can always use ID Ten T decontaminator,” the CO said, blank-faced.
“That’s only effective on neenion contamination, sir,” the first sergeant said.
“What in hell is a neenion?” Captain MacDonald asked.
“Never mind,” Spectre said, grinning. “Okay, Captain, I would suggest taking your boys to the barracks and seeing if we can decontaminate and seal it. If Dr. Chet clears it for occupancy, and if there’s enough room for gear, you can move in there.”
“We’ll leave Second Platoon in place and take Third,” Captain MacDonald said. “When’s this caravan arrive?”
“This afternoon,” Bill said.
“Make sure that food is thoroughly decontaminated,” the CO said. “I’m not going to sit in quarantine for a month because the med board says we violated quarantine. No matter how much fresh fruit is involved.”
“Oh, this is quite wonderful,” Dr. Becker said, looking at the astronomy laboratory attached to the palace. “It takes me back,” he added, looking at the lens-grinding area.
“We believe we saw your wonderful ship floating above,” Master Jadum said. “Journeyman Agoul actually spotted it first. He has very good eyes.”
“He must have been using this,” Dr. Becker said, peering through the lens of the telescope, which was about a sixteen power but so distorted as to be nearly opaque. “But you don’t have optical coatings. Hmmm… I think I remember some very low-tech optical coating recipes from when I was in high school. Those, alone, will double the clarity of this scope. And if you add a mirror, a clear one, you can double your focal length. But using a bigger aperture diameter is the key…”
“I’m not sure I can translate all of that,” Miriam said.
“Of course, my dear, sorry,” Dr. Becker said. “And what’s this? An electric spark generator?”
“We are just beginning to explore these properties,” Master Jadum said enthusiastically, pointing to the complex arrangement. “This has some of the same properties as the puffiness from fur in winter.”
“Yes,” Dr. Becker said, nodding. “And with a bit more tinkering and by hooking it up to, oh, a water wheel, you can have full-scale power generation. Electric lights, even…”
“Dr. Becker,” Chief Miller said. “We haven’t been using flashlights around them since they say that is one thing that always brings the Demons.”
“But they’re already here,” Miriam said. “So it’s not our flashlights that are causing them.”
“True,” Becker said, then frowned. “Is it the light or the…”
“Oh,” Miriam said, her eyes flying wide. “Electromagnetism?”
“Radio signals,” Becker said, his face going white.
“Particle emissions?” Miriam whispered.
“You mean it’s just the electricity?” Miller said. “These things track in on electricity? Like, you know, the generators on the boat?”
“If we’re right, the boat is a giant smorgasbord to these things,” Becker said.
“But the boat’s in orbit, right?” Miller pointed out.
“Chief Miller,” Miriam said, hoarsely. “Do you remember the tapestry?”
“The… Yeah,” Miller said, frowning.
“Those figures in the corner,” Miriam said rapidly. “The ones that looked like fighter planes? What if they can reach orbit?”
“Marine One, Marine One, this is SEAL One…”
30
Okay, So Sometimes It Is Two-Gun Mojo
“Mother,” Cha-chai said, calmly.
“Yes, my son,” Lady Che-chee said, not looking up from the report she was writing. The Chrans might or might not be friendly. So far, all seemed well. However, the queen and General Chuk-tuk required daily reports on their activities. Unfortunately, Lady Che-chee had no real idea of what such activities as driving spikes in her lawn actually meant.
“I know that I became somewhat overwrought when the Chrans arrived,” the young Cheerick said. “However, I believe it would be wise for you to look at the spaceship.”
