Having penetrated the inner part of the encampment, Millar caught glimpses of a heat source so intense it had to be a fi?re, and continued to work his way inwards until he found himself within three standing walls. There was no roof, but the walls served the soldiers as a windbreak, which had been put to good use. Viewed from the cyborg’s perspective, eight man-shaped heat blobs were seated around a much brighter heat blob, eating their dinners and talking. All Millar had to do was back his spherical body into a convenient hole and listen in on the conversation below. It quickly became obvious that the humans were clones, who by some means unknown knew about the revolution and were trying to deal with it.
“I don’t know,” the fi?rst soldier said doubtfully. “The founder’s plan worked for all these years. Why change it?”
“Because we don’t have any say,” the second man replied critically. “And if we’re going to do all the fi?ghting, we should have a say.”
“But what if no one wants to do the fi?ghting?” the fi?rst Seebo wanted to know. “What then?”
“Maybe the Santos will want to fi?ght,” the third clone put in.
That caused laughter all around. “That’ll be the day!” the second Seebo exclaimed. “All they do is go to meetings and boss everyone around.”
There was a moment of silence as one of the men put a piece of wood on the fi?re. A column of sparks shot up into the air and spiraled away. “I’ll tell you one thing,” the fi?fth soldier said. “The old man has the right idea. . . . He won’t be cold tonight.”
“That’s for sure!” number three said enthusiastically.
“How would you like some of that? Every single one of us will be free breeders once this is over.”
“Odds are that we’ll be dead once this is over,” the fi?fth man said darkly, as he blew on cold fi?ngers. “General-453 is an idiot.”
“Was an idiot,” the second Seebo said, as he took a sip of coffee. “He’s dead by now.”
“And a good thing, too,” the sixth soldier added. “I wonder what Six is doing?”
“Screwing the doctor’s brains out,” the fourth man answered cheerfully. “The lucky so and so.”
“That would be hypocritical,” the fi?rst Seebo observed.
“Him being a true believer and all.”
“Well, you know what they say about the true folk,” the seventh clone put in. “They’re truly horny!”
That produced gales of laugher and an opportunity for Millar to slip away unnoticed. But not uninformed. Because he not only knew who the clones were—he knew that the female hostage was sleeping with the man who had taken her prisoner! A man who, according to his profi?le, hated free breeders. Except for pretty free breeders. Or so it appeared. But hearing is one thing—and seeing is another. So as the snow continued to fall, the recon ball continued to ghost through the ruins, searching for Dr. Kira Kelly. Kelly was awake—but very uncomfortable. Her bladder was full, so she needed to pee, but was reluctant to leave the relative warmth of the makeshift sleeping bag that she shared with Six. He, in typical male fashion, was not only sound asleep but snoring gently. A quick check with a fl?ashlight revealed that while the tarp over their heads was drooping a bit under the weight of accumulated snow, it was in no danger of collapsing. So there was no need to get up and deal with that.
But the doctor knew she wouldn’t be able to get any more rest unless she got up, made her way out of the partially screened “room,” and down a short passageway to a freezing-cold closet reserved for her use. Careful to protect the integrity of the air pocket that surrounded Six, the navy offi?cer rolled out from under the blankets and fumbled for her boots. Once those were on, all she had to do was slip her arms into her parka in order to be fully clothed. Then, with a blob of light from the hand torch to guide her, Kelly made her way back to what had been designated as “the ladies’ room.” It was a euphemism for a storage closet with a bucket in it. It isn’t fair, Kelly thought to herself, as she lowered her pants. Men don’t have to do this. Three minutes later the offi?cer was busy fastening her parka when a voice came from the darkness three feet away from her. “Excuse me,” Millar said softly as he hovered four feet off the fl?oor. “Are you Lieutenant Kira Kelly?”
Kelly reacted with an involuntary jerk and took a full step backwards. “Who are you?” the doctor demanded, as her torch came on.
“Turn that thing off!” the recon ball whispered urgently.
“Or you’ll get me killed!”
Kelly, who had seen the cyborg’s markings by that time, did as she was told. The fi?rst question to cross her mind, which had to do with whether the recon ball had seen her go to the bathroom, was silly given the circumstances, so she put it aside. “I repeat,” Kelly whispered. “Who are you?”
“Lieutenant Mitch Millar,” came the reply. “I was sent to fi?nd you.”
Kelly felt her spirits soar only to have them crash again. Here was the rescue that she and Sumi had been hoping for!
But what would that mean for Six? Kelly was a doctor, so she was well aware of the fact that even though it isn’t logical, some hostages come to have feelings of loyalty toward their captors. Had that happened to her? Yes, the analytical part of her brain said that it had. Did knowing that make her any less concerned for her lover’s well being? No, not really. “That’s wonderful!” Kelly exclaimed, in what she hoped was a convincing fashion.
“Yes, it is,” Millar responded carefully. “Although it’s only fair to tell you that the unit I belong to is more than a hundred miles away. It may be a while before we can actually free you.”
Kelly felt a sense of relief, knew that was stupid, and silently rebuked herself. “Of course,” she said out loud. “I understand.”
“Good,” the recon ball replied. “How about the second hostage? Is he okay?”
Sumi was angry with Kelly for sleeping with Six, the doctor knew that, but saw no reason to discuss it. Not unless she absolutely had to. “Yes,” Kelly answered succinctly.
“Hospital Corpsman Sumi is fi?ne.”
“Excellent,” Millar said sincerely. “My CO will be happy to hear it. Here. . . . Take this.”
