well enough to recognize the anger on his face as General Booly leaned in to whisper something into his superior’s ear. Because rather than contribute crack troops, the way they were supposed to, it was clear that clones intended to pad their force with people drawn from nonmilitary genetic lines. But there was nothing that Nankool, Booly, and the rest of the staff could do but sit and watch as the last of the conscripts took their places, and everyone in the arena was subjected to a thunderous noise as a formation of aerospace shuttles swept in to hover just above the parade ground. Then, with a degree of precision that bespoke countless hours of practice, the transports settled into the squares not occupied by people. It was an extremely impressive maneuver that was calculated to impress the citizens of the Confederacy, many of whom were watching the live feed via the new hypercom technology.
No sooner were the shuttles on the ground, and their engines silenced, than the speeches began. Speeches by workers, minor offi?cials, major offi?cials, Alpha Clone Antonio, and fi?nally Marcott Nankool. Who, though furious at the Hegemony’s leaders, had no choice but to join them on the reviewing stand and praise the alliance.
As music played, and the audience cheered, thousands of troops entered their shuttles, took their seats, and strapped in. Once the loading process was complete, the transports took off the same way they had landed, in unison. Then, as part of a carefully choreographed aerial ballet, the shuttles peeled away from the formation one at a time, accelerated upwards, and were soon lost to sight as their contrails merged to form an arrow that pointed upwards. That was the cue for the members of the Lightning Brigade to come to attention, march out through the exits, and return whence they had come.
Vanderveen was happy to see them go. Finally, after more than four hours of sitting in a chair, it felt good to stand and follow her “betters” down to ground level, where a formal reception was about to begin. It was the sort of function that would normally be quite boring, but might become rather heated, given the way in which the Confederacy had been snookered. Vanderveen was understandably curious regarding how Nankool would handle the situation, so she began to shadow the chief executive as the party began. That strategy quickly paid off as the president and the Alpha Clones came together. Marcus had been forced to leave, due to his health, but Antonio and Pietro greeted Nankool like old friends. And Nankool responded in kind. But then, as soon as he reasonably could, the president spoke his mind. The words were measured, but his jaw was tight, and his eyes were bright with repressed anger. “That was a very impressive ceremony, gentlemen. But I was surprised to see a substantial number of civilians mustered on the plaza. It was my understanding that the Hegemony would contribute crack troops.”
Given the fact that Alpha Clone Antonio had consistently spoken for the Hegemony up until that point— Vanderveen found it interesting that it was Pietro who chose to respond. He had light brown skin, fl?ashing black eyes, and perfect teeth. The clone was wearing a well-draped toga with his trademark pin on the left shoulder. And, judging from Antonio’s expression, it seemed as though the fi?rst Alpha Clone was annoyed by his brother’s tardy participation. “Yes,”
Pietro said blandly, “that was our intention, until General453 entered into the discussions. It’s his opinion that the Legion, combined with our brave Seebos, and members of the newly formed Civilian Volunteer Army (CVA), will trounce the Ramanthians within a matter of weeks. . . . Isn’t that right, General?”
As if on cue, General Jonathan Alan Seebo-785,453 materialized out of the crowd. The offi?cer possessed his line’s manly good looks, but there was something slightly dissipated about the way his features sagged, and the puffi?ness of a body that hadn’t been required to march anywhere in a long time. But even if Four-fi?fty-three didn’t cut a soldierly fi?gure, he was a skilled bureaucrat, and could be quite charming.
“President Nankool!” the general said heartily. “And General Booly . . . This is an honor. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
“Yes,” the clone offi?cer continued, as he looked from face to face. “I took the liberty of making some rather timely changes based on intelligence received over the last few days. Given the size of the force at our disposal, and the relatively small number of Ramanthians on Gamma-014, we should be able to overwhelm the ugly beasts in no time at all. So rather than commit too many of my brethren to the task, thereby weakening the Hegemony’s defenses elsewhere, I chose to send a CVA regiment along instead. Not in direct combat roles, mind you, but to provide engineering, logistics, and medical support.”
“That plan assumes a conventional war,” Booly said pointedly. “What makes you so sure the bugs will fi?ght that way? The Ramanthians will be well entrenched and could come at us from all directions.”
General-453 wasn’t used to having his orders questioned, or so it appeared from the blood that rushed to his face, and the way his fi?sts were clenched. “First,” Four-fi?fty-three replied icily, “I believe it is customary to address a superior offi?cer as ‘sir.’ An honorifi?c to which I, as commanding general, am clearly entitled.
“Secondly, while the Legion is no doubt extremely knowledgeable where the Confederacy is concerned, Gammalies within the Hegemony, which means I am in the best position to judge what is and isn’t appropriate.”
“Except that Gamma-014 lies within the Ramanthian Empire at this point,” Booly observed pointedly. “Which is where it’s likely to remain unless we send enough troops to take it. Sir.”
“Please,” Alpha Clone Pietro said, as he held up his hands.
“Save your energy for the Ramanthians! We are allies, and I’m sure that command differences, if any, can be resolved over some good food! Come, let’s eat.”
Nankool wanted to continue the debate, as did Booly, but it would have seemed boorish to do so. Therefore, both the president and his top general were forced to follow Pietro as he led them to a table loaded with refreshments. And Vanderveen, who knew Santana might be among the legionnaires sent to Gamma-014, was left to worry. The knowledge brought scant comfort—but the fi?rst stage of the counter offensive was under way.
ABOARD THE CONFEDERACY’S TROOP TRANSPORT
In spite of the fact that the Enceladus was a large ship, and specifi?cally designed for transporting troops, the vessel was so crammed with people that Captain Antonio Santana had to maneuver around marines who were camped in the main corridor, and squeeze past the boxes of rations that were stacked along the lesser passageways, before being able to enter the warren of compartments reserved for the 1st REC. A bio bod shouted, “Attention on deck!” as the offi?cer appeared, but Santana said, “As you were,” before most of the legionnaires could respond.
It was too warm for comfort as Santana entered a fuggy miasma made up of equal parts perspiration, gun oil, and ozone. Greetings came from all sides as he worked his way back through the maze of lockers and bunks toward the area set aside for noncoms. Because of the heat, most of the bio bods were walking around in T-shirts and shorts. Their war forms were stored below, adjacent to the hangar bay, so the cyborgs were equipped with spider forms. And thanks to their extraordinary mobility, the borgs had been able to colonize the overhead, where a maze of exposed girders, pipes, and ductwork provided a habitat no one else could take advantage of.
