“We should get married,” he said.
Nadia turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him. “You mean by a priest?”
“There are no priests among the Jovians,” he said.
“How does one become married then?” she asked.
Marten groaned as he sat up. His ribs throbbed because of their lovemaking.
Worry filled her face. She set aside the brush and faced him. She had small, firm breasts, and her eyes were the most beautiful Marten had ever seen.
“The Jovians are killing you,” she said.
Marten shook his head.
“Can’t you see they’re using you?” Nadia asked, anger entering her voice.
“I’m the best at this. It’s what I do.”
“No! They’re merciless, and are squeezing every ounce of use from you before a cyborg puts a bullet in your brain.”
“We finished the cyborgs.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said.
“Athena Station was it,” Marten said, “at least for the Jupiter System.”
“That’s another thing I don’t understand,” she said. “Why did Tan send space marines onto the station? Why didn’t they just laser its offensive capabilities and annihilate it with nukes?”
“The cyborg conversion chamber—”
“Nearly got you and your men killed,” Nadia said with heat. “The cyborgs detonated the thing before anyone could reach it.”
“Did Omi tell you that?”
“It doesn’t matter how I know. The Jovians are using you, and it nearly got you killed.”
“I had to go down with my men.”
“Why is it always you, Marten? Let others do the dirty work for once.”
“Did Omi tell you we deactivated other nuclear devices? Without us there,
“What?” Nadia asked, outraged.
Marten looked away. The Jovians were using him, he knew that. And it had been too close this time. Athena Station had been one giant booby-trap. The Force-Leader running the operation had told them it was vital they go down and salvage what they could. The Strategists needed clues concerning the cyborgs, some hint at what the Neptunian Web-Minds planned next.
Marten clenched his teeth as he rose up to his knees. He shuffled across the bed to Nadia. She was so beautiful. He put his hands on her bare shoulders and gently shook her.
She gave him a questioning look.
“I want you to be my wife, Nadia.” He firmed his resolve, deciding to ask her straight out. That was the only way to be fair to her. “Will you marry me?” he asked, searching her eyes.
“Yes,” she said, in a small voice.
Marten grinned, and his grip on her shoulders tightened. “Then before God, I declare you to be my wife.”
“What does that mean?” Nadia whispered.
“It means that we’re married. It means I’m your husband and you’re my woman until death do us part.”
“I don’t want you to die, Marten.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “Now come here, wife.” He drew her to him, and they lay down, beginning all over again.
-3-
An hour later, Marten entered a different cubicle. The dreadnaught’s fusion engine made a soft thrum throughout the ship, and caused the bulkheads here to vibrate gently.
Omi sat on his cot as he cleaned his gun. It was similar to Marten’s long-barreled slugthrower, which fired .38 caliber dum-dum bullets. A small piece of lead sat in the back of a bullet, in a tiny, domed-shaped cavity. When a dum-dum bullet struck an object, the lead in the cavity flew forward and caused the bullet to explode like a grenade. It made for murderous ammunition that caused ghastly wounds, a must against cyborgs.
“You ready?” Omi asked.
The Korean hadn’t changed much since Carme. The only exception was his eyes. They were a little more haunted and there was a new line on his face.
“I married Nadia,” Marten said.
Omi raised an eyebrow.
“You’re supposed to congratulate me,” Marten said.
Omi nodded slightly. Then he clipped the last part of his .38 back together and holstered it. “Chief Strategist Tan wants to speak with us.”
“She’s here?”
“Now that the war is over, the commander wants to inspect the front.”
“I wonder what she’s after?”
“You kidnapped her once, remember?”
“That was over a year ago.”
“Do you think she’s forgotten?” Omi asked.
“My kidnapping helped save her life.”
“She might not remember it that way.”
“No. If she feels that way about me, why hasn’t she done something about it before now?”
Omi made a sour sound that might have been a laugh. “Are you kidding? You’re the heart of their space marines, and you’re the blood, too.”
“They have others units beside ours.”
“Those others died,” Omi said, “or most of them died. We have the only unit that has survived contact with the enemy more than twice.”
Marten crossed his arms. He could count the number of survivors on two hands—those that had made it through both Carme and Athena Station. When men faced cyborgs, the men died. He had a few theories now, some new tactics he wanted to try. The Battle for Jupiter was over, however, thank God.
“You think Tan’s finished with us?” Marten asked.
“Didn’t you notice the myrmidons when we came aboard, and the arbiter?”
Marten vaguely remembered. Then he had been too busy noticing Nadia. Now that Omi mentioned it…there had been changes these past few months aboard the military vessels. They were little things, or so he’d thought then.
“Arbiters and myrmidons,” Marten said. “I wonder if she’s going back to old Callisto methods.”
Omi stood up. “My guess is we’re about to find out.”
Marten glanced at Omi’s gun. Then he patted his own. “The arbiters don’t have any nullifiers that will protect them from these.”
“How long do you think they’ll let us wear guns?” Omi asked.
Marten shrugged.
“She’s a Strategist,” Omi said, “and she’s separated us from our men on the
“…Yeah,” Marten said, nodding. “Let’s go find out the worst.”
“Let’s,” Omi said.
The two of them headed for the door.
