spring open and pulled out a combat suit.
I dressed and turned to look at her. “Yeah,” I said. “I could have tried. Next time-and I hope there isn’t a next time-I’ll give it a shot.”
That uncrossed her arms, but she still had that funny look on her face. I figured it was time to get out of here and let her cool off. “I’m going to tour the bricks,” I said. “We’ve got most of them operating again.”
I almost made it out of the bulkhead door. She stopped me with a single hand on my bicep. I turned back, and she surprised me with a hard kiss.
“All right,” she said. “I forgive you for heartlessly wiping out a race of sentient beings.”
“Let’s just hope they forgive me someday, too,” I said. The airlock closed behind me with a scraping sound and a hiss. Every door in the complex scratched when it moved now. The blowing grit from Helios had gotten into everything. It would probably be with us forever.
I spent the next hour talking to lifter-arm operators and men with caulk-guns full of nanites. They were all working to interconnect our ramshackle stack of bricks into a complex. Some of the bricks were damaged and many still had no power, but things were improving rapidly.
A few of the troops grumbled about the double-shift work-details. Couldn’t they take a little R amp;R? After all, they had completed the mission and made it alive back into space. Now that the unit was on the return trip to Earth, why not party?
I gave questioners my grimmest expression. “We aren’t home yet, marines,” I told each man who asked some variation of that question, and then gave him five or six specific things to do on the spot. Every marine went back to work, groaning.
A buzzing in my helmet interrupted my second hour as I spent it harassing the marines.
“Sir?” asked Captain Jasmine Sarin.
“Go ahead, Captain.”
“We’re moving again.”
“On my way,” I said.
It took me less than a minute to make it to the command brick, which had been undergoing heavy repairs. I turned off my magnetic boots, aimed in the general direction of the command brick and took a wild leap. Essentially, I flew there. The gravity level in the hold was quite low, and a normal man without nanite enhancements could have done almost as well. My aim wasn’t too bad. When I flipped the boots back on and was tugged down to stick to the nearest metal skin of a brick, I only had to clank my way about ten yards to the airlock.
Once inside the command brick, I took stock of the situation. Major Robinson was gone, of course, having been killed by the granddaddy Worm back on Helios. I had yet to choose a new exec. The rest of the staff looked up apprehensively as I rushed in.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“We’re not sure, sir. The two ships are changing formations. The cruiser is now moving behind the invasion ship and they are both underway.”
“How long until we pass through the ring?”
“Unknown,” she said.
I stared at her for a second. “But the ring is right next to us in orbit.”
Sarin shook her head. “We aren’t headed toward the ring that goes toward Earth, Colonel. We’re heading elsewhere in the system. Perhaps toward another ring we haven’t detected yet.”
Alarmed, I struggled to get my helmet off and my headset into place. I tapped at the big central screen. The screen was a little bigger than a pool table and mounted at about the same height. We were standing around the table, leaning against it and gazing down into the screen like a pack of fans at an eight-ball championship.
The screen was still broken and dark in one corner. The funny thing about the nanites was their difficulty with big electronic systems. They could rebuild something small and delicate faster than something big. I supposed it might have something to do with their organizational control. Probably, it was harder to get a million of them cooperating on a complex set of tasks than it was to get a thousand or so of them working together on a single detail. Like a massively-parallel processor trying to run a single task efficiently, breaking a given big program down into many small pieces was harder than it seemed.
I could see the two big ships moving with what seemed like gentle speed. Appearances were deceptive, however. Their velocity relative to one another was small, but in actuality they were accelerating powerfully. I could feel the acceleration now, as I thought about it. The effect manifested itself as a light pull toward the interior wall of the hold. I knew that without the dampeners, the effects would be much more dramatic. Men and bricks would have been thrown everywhere.
“Don’t you think you should contact Macro Command?” Captain Sarin asked me.
I glanced up. They were all staring at me. I knew what they really wanted. They wanted to know what the hell was happening. Not knowing your destiny-that was the worst part of this whole expedition. When we’d headed out to the Worm world to conquer it, we’d had no idea for much of the journey where we were heading or what would be there when we arrived. That made everything worse, somehow. I believe that in order to handle stress and tension, human beings feel better doing something to prepare for what’s coming. Even if what they are doing is ineffective, it makes the approaching doom easier to tolerate. We have a sense of security when we are active, while inaction and the unknown slowly fill us with terror.
I cleared my throat and nodded. I adjusted my headset and flicked it on. “Open a channel to Macro Command.”
With apparent relief, Captain Sarin brought up a radial menu and tapped at it. Her fingers slid and danced with practiced movements. “You’ve got it, sir,” she said after a few moments.
I took a moment or two to collect my thoughts. When dealing the Macros, it never helped to ask questions or make requests. They only understood and responded well to direct commands. “Macro Command, this is biotic troop commander Kyle Riggs. Provide a mission briefing for our current activity.”
“New invasion destination selected. New mission parameters set.”
Everyone in the command module gasped. They all started talking at once. I made a desperate slashing motion at the air, urging them to be silent. They fell quiet, but every eye was wide and every one of them stared at me.
“We are not heading back to Earth?” I asked, flustered. Right away, I knew the Macros were not going to answer.
“Cargo is not permitted interrogatives.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my jaw muscles, which had grown very tense. I wanted to scream at them, but I knew it would do less than nothing to improve matters.
“We need replacements in order to operate effectively.” I said, staying calm. “Take us back to Earth first.”
“No.”
“When we forged the details of our agreement, we specified the terms of service. This unit is no longer at full strength. We require reinforcements to proceed to a new target.”
“Request denied. Biotic Rigs has assured Macro Command the ground forces are functional.”
I frowned. Just when the hell had I said that? “My ground forces are not at full strength.”
“Lift off from prior target world was predicated upon ground force effectiveness.”
I thought hard. What had I said…? Just as the giant Worm was hitting us and we had seconds left to stay breathing. Ah yes, I thought I had it. I’d told them we didn’t need to stay and pick up every piece of equipment. I’d assured them we would still be an effective fighting force without the extra bricks and weaponry…
I keyed off the connection with Macro Command. I stared at the nearest wall. My staff bubbled around me, asking reasonable, logical questions. I ignored them all.
We were going to have to invade another world. I felt cold and slightly sick inside. To get them to lift off Helios and leave behind much of our equipment, I had assured Macro Command we could still fight. They were going to hold me to that statement. I’d learned by now that the Macros did not let you change your mind once you’d made a commitment.
We only had a few hovertanks left. More than half my marines were dead. Most were probably inside some Worm’s belly by now back on Helios. I thought about how things would have gone if we had to do the Helios
