for maglev security, belatedly working out where he was and why.
Michael had slept the whole way jammed into a corner on the overcrowded maglev, and his left leg was stiff and uncooperative. Under protest, it allowed him to stand up. Grabbing his pack and rifle, he wriggled his way through the car, which was jammed with NRA troopers going wherever NRA troopers went for the weekend. He did not care; all he did care about was that Anna and the 120th had been pulled back out of the line for a week, and unless things had changed in the hours it had taken him to get from FLTDETCOMM to Mike-44, she would be waiting for him a ten-minute walk from the maglev station.
With a soft hiss, the maglev eased to a stop, and Michael pushed his way through the doors before they opened fully. Grateful for the exercise, he limped off, all fatigue banished by the prospect of meeting up with Anna again. It had been too long, and he missed her.
Turning a corner, he made his way down a laser-cut tunnel toward the 120th's billet, a water-carved complex of caves opening out from an enormous cavern. Emerging, he presented himself to the security post controlling access.
'Welcome, Lieutenant,' the young corporal said, handing Michael his identity card back. 'I was at the River Kendozo breakout, so it's good to see you. You'll find Sergeant Helfort second on the right. She said to go on through and not to wake her or she'd kick your ass.'
Michael grinned. 'Okay… Hey, wait, Corp. You said Sergeant Helfort?'
'Yes, sir. I did. Fastest promotion in NRA history,' the corporal said, returning the grin, 'and well deserved.'
'Shit, she never said anything about it.'
'The colonel paraded the whole regiment yesterday, called her out of line, and pinned the chevrons on himself.'
'Well, I'll be,' Michael said. 'Talk about hidden talents. I'd best go and congratulate her.'
'Not if you value your life, I wouldn't,' the corporal said. 'She'll be asleep and probably wants to stay that way.'
'Oh! Okay, in the morning, then. Thanks, Corporal. Catch you later.' Friday, January 4, 2402, UD 120th Regiment billet, Sector Mike, Branxton Base, Commitment
Anna plowed her way through two bowls of whatever gruel the 120th's foodbots were dishing out that morning followed by a mug of coffee before she said a word.
'That's better,' she said, pushing her tray away. 'So when did you arrive?'
'About 03:00. You were snoring, so I decided I'd live longer if I left you alone.'
'Huh! Good call, and I'm glad you did,' Anna said, sipping her second mug of coffee. 'First decent night's sleep in ages. I needed it.'
Michael nodded; Anna's face was pale and drawn. Her honey-gold skin had faded to a washed-out gray, but her eyes were the same, bottomless green pools that had entranced him from the first day they had met.
'So,' he said. 'What's this I hear about you being a sergeant or something?'
'No something about it, flyboy. Yeah, as of two days ago, I am officially Sergeant Anna Helfort, NRA. Has a certain ring to it, don't you think?'
'It does,' Michael conceded. 'So let me guess. You were promoted because you are a careful soldier who refuses to risk her own life or those of her troopers. Tell me I am right.'
'Umm, well… yeah, sort of. Yeah, I think that's right.'
'Anna, Anna!' Michael shook his head in despair. 'I'm the certified lunatic around here. I'm not sure this relationship can accommodate two. So what happened?'
'Oh, not much,' Anna said, waving a hand. 'Last week, B Company found themselves in a firefight with a PGDF battalion probing our sector. They were pinned down, and we were sent to bail them out. My platoon CO and sergeant were hit, so I took over, we killed a shed load of Hammers, and brought everyone home. Not much more to say.'
'Yeah, right,' Michael said, looking skeptical. 'What about your section leader?'
'Section leader? Umm, let me see. Oh, yes, that would have been me.'
'Anna!' Michael snapped. 'That's two damn promotions, and you didn't tell me? No, make that three. I forgot trooper to lance corporal.'
Anna shrugged her shoulders. 'I didn't want to worry you,' she said, not looking at all apologetic.
Michael tried to glare at her. He abandoned the attempt when Anna fluttered her eyelashes at him, eyes the color of deep jade drawing him in and down. 'Oh, please,' he muttered. 'Stop that.'
'Come on, flyboy. Janos Kallewi's been moved to our local rehab center, so why don't we go and check on him before we get the hell out of here. Battalion's given my platoon leave until Monday morning, and I intend to make the most of every second.'
'Lead on, Sergeant Helfort.'
'How you feeling, Janos?'
Kallewi scowled. 'The honest answer, Michael, is bored,' he said, 'bored shitless. This rehab stuff is a pain, and all the more because it takes the Hammers a month to do something we'd get done in a week back home. They've got a lot of catching up to do, and the food's shit.'
'No kidding,' Anna said with a laugh. 'Tell us something we don't know.'
'So, Janos,' Michael said. 'How's the brain?'
'Getting there. Hammer medical technology might be slow, but it does the job… in the end. The headaches have gone.'
'When are they releasing you?'
'Another couple of weeks, I think. I've been posted to one of the training battalions, the 774th. Can't say I'm too unhappy about that. I was lucky to get away. Did I ever say thanks for that?'
'You don't have to,' Anna said. 'We were there anyway.'
'Oh?' Kallewi said. 'That's not quite what I've been told. Not that it matters. I'm here, and I owe you both, and that's a fact.' He leaned back in the battered armchair, eyes closing for a moment. 'Sorry,' he said, opening them again. 'I still get tired. The doc says it'll pass.'
'We'd better go.'
'Yeah. Try me next week. I'll be better.' Kallewi's head fell back, and his eyes closed.
Michael flicked a glance at Anna, his face twisted with concern. 'Okay,' he said. 'Next week, then.'
Kallewi said nothing, a nod of the head his only response.
'See you later,' Michael said softly as they left.
Anna's hands slapped the tabletop with a flat crack that echoed around the empty canteen.
'For chrissakes, Michael,' she said fiercely. 'It's not your fault. Janos is a big boy. He makes his own decisions. He's here because he decided this was where he should be, fighting the Hammers, not because you forced him. He's a marine. Killing Hammers is his job, and that's what he's been doing.'
'Yes, but-'
'Don't 'yes but' me!' Anna snapped. 'There's no buts about it, so stop it. You are not responsible for any of this. Anyway, what's happened has happened. It's history now, and you can't change it. So stop trying to.'
'Okay, okay,' Michael said, raising his hands in defeat. 'I get it, I get it.' He rubbed eyes gritty with stress and tiredness. 'I want another coffee, then let's go. You?'
'No, I'm fine.'
Michael made his way across to the drinkbot; by some miracle of Hammer engineering, the battered relic produced the excellent coffee every Hammer needed to get through the day.
Anna was right, he thought as his mug filled, but only up to a point. Yes, Janos and the rest of Redwood's crew had made up their own minds to be part of this whole insane project. So yes, he bore no responsibility for what might happen to them, but what about the prisoners of war from J-5209? They were a different matter altogether. He had given them no time at all to think through the question: stay a prisoner or come with us. What a choice! Of course they came; as far as they knew, the rescue was a Fleet operation, not some lunatic scheme dreamed up by mutinous spacers. Now some of those prisoners were dead; for them he bore absolute responsibility, and nothing Anna said would change his mind about that.
In the end, it was simple. It was up to him to honor that responsibility by returning them home, and the only way to do that was by finding a way to end what he, along with an increasing number of the Feds, was beginning to
