Duty, Honor, Planet

“Oh, my God.”

All heads turned at Jason’s almost involuntary utterance. His face seemed pale, his eyes staring intently into space.

“Anybody ever heard,” McKay asked quietly, “of the Spanish Civil War?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Shannon blurted.

“What?” Munfimi wanted to know. “What’s this got to do with Spain?”

“You know about World War Two?” Jason asked the man. “Hitler, the Nazis, the Holocaust?” The xenobiologist nodded. “Back before the war started, Hitler installed a puppet government in power in Spain. The Democrats rebelled against it, and Hitler used the revolution as an opportunity to test his military machine before he threw it at the rest of Europe. Kind of a dress rehearsal.”

“Do you really think that’s it, sir?” Lambert asked him, seeming worried. “I mean, we’re assuming an awful lot, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, and assuming usually makes an ASS out of U and ME, I know,” Jason acknowledged. “But Colonel Mellanby sent us out here to get some answers, and this is as close as we’ve come.”

“You think they did this as a… ‘dress rehearsal,’ then?” Kovalev asked him. “But a rehearsal for what?”

“There’s only one target worth that kind of effort,” Jason explained. “And that’s Earth.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Once we have a war, there is only one thing left to do. It must be won. For defeat brings worse things than any that can ever happen in war.”

—Ernest Hemingway

Shannon sipped carefully at her cappuccino, watching the pedestrians stroll casually through Reagan Plaza, reveling in the unseasonable warmth of the New York autumn.

They don’t know, she thought. They’re walking around with their heads up their ass like it’s any other day.

“Would you like anything else?” the waiter asked her. This was one of Capital City’s more upscale street bistros, with real live people to wait on you instead of the usual robot serving carts and computerized menu screens.

She shook her head. “I’m waiting for someone.”

He gave a disinterested nod and wandered off to find a better tipper, leaving her alone with her thoughts. It seemed odd to be back on Earth again so soon, as if she’d stepped right off the arid plains of Aphrodite and onto the streets of Capital City. It had happened almost that fast.

“Somebody has to go back,” Jason had said, out of thin air, as they lay together in his small cabin aboard the research base. “Colonel Mellanby needs to hear what we’ve found out.”

“It should be one of us,” she agreed, turning over to face him. His hair was tousled and unruly from their lovemaking, making the serious expression he wore seem strangely incongruous. “One can take the courier and the other can stay and wrap up the investigation, then bring back the Patton.”

“Who goes?” He grimaced, obviously disliking the idea but knowing she was right.

“I’ll go,” she volunteered.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve had enough of being a leader of men to last me a while,” she said.

“What if we’re too late?” Jason’s eyes stared through the walls, trying to see all the way back home. “What if they’ve already done it?”

“Then I won’t stay long,” she answered, smiling.

He glanced back at her, something behind his eyes even more serious than the idea of an alien invader.

“Be careful, okay?” he said quietly. “I… I love you.”

“I’ll be careful,” she told him, burying her face in the crook of his arm. “I promise.”

She still wondered, sitting there nearly two months later in a corner of Reagan Plaza, why she had avoided telling him her feelings. The question had haunted her strung-out g-sleep dreams, and had been on her mind even as she sat in Colonel Mellanby’s office up in Republic Spacefleet Headquarters this morning.

He’d listened to her report in silence, eyes as cold as flint, not showing a bit of surprise—as if he’d come up with this idea months ago and was only waiting for her to come a couple dozen light years and confirm it.

“I know there’s a lot of unanswered questions in our theory,” she’d concluded, “but we felt like we should get what we had to you now and let you make the call, sir.”

“You did the right thing,” he told her. “I’m not a hundred percent sold on this link to the Russians, but at least two things are abundantly clear. Whoever was behind the attack on Aphrodite knows enough about us to use our genetic material to create these biomechs.” He sat back in his chair, his expression as close to worried as she’d ever seen it. “And secondly, McKay’s right about the purpose of the attack. It makes no sense as anything but a practice run for an invasion of Earth.”

“What are we going to do, sir?” Shannon asked, hoping he would have an answer that she hadn’t thought of yet.

“What I’m going to do,” he said, rising from his chair so abruptly it startled her, “is get myself an immediate audience with President Jameson and apprize him of the situation. After that, your guess is as good as mine.”

“What about me, sir?” she asked him, hopping to her feet as he strode quickly to the door.

“Take some leave, Lieutenant, but don’t lose your comlink, in case anything comes up.” He paused just a step away from her, fixing her with a curious glance. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

“Sir?” She shook her head, confused. She felt intensely uncomfortable this close to him, as if she were hand- feeding an uncaged leopard.

“You’ve got something beside this threat report on your mind. And anything serious enough to preoccupy you when we’re facing a possible attack from aliens has to be worth my attention.”

She swallowed hard, not accustomed to having her feelings so easily read.

“It’s…,” she stuttered, feeling as if she were compelled to answer him. “It’s about Jason, sir… Captain McKay.”

“He’s a good man,” Mellanby agreed, as if he hadn’t picked up her train of thought. “I trust you two have developed a good working relationship?” There was a glint in his eye that she would have described as mischievous on someone lacking his reputation.

“Well, yes,” she answered quickly, fighting a sinking feeling that this conversation was rapidly spinning out of control. “That’s… I mean, we’ve become very close…”

“I would hope so,” the Snake said with a grin. “After all, you’ll be working together for a long time—quite possibly the rest of your careers.” She began to shake her head, still believing he was missing her point, but she was interrupted by his quiet, surprisingly friendly laugh. “Shannon,” he said, using her first name for the first time since she’d known him, “whatever is between you and Jason personally is your own business, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your performance. And as far as I can determine, it hasn’t as yet. Does that assuage your concerns?”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Go take some leave,” he ordered, then stepped purposefully out the door, leaving her alone in his office.

She’d followed his advice, calling her mother in Ireland to let her know she’d be visiting within a couple days—and making one more call, to wrap up some unfinished business.

Shannon looked up from her glass and saw that unfinished business striding across the plaza, backlit by the setting sun, dressed in black. She had a sudden urge to run to him, to throw herself into his arms and run away to some secluded spot for an afternoon of passion. But something stood in her way: something with brown hair and earnest grey eyes and a crooked smile—something called love.