She had to be the one to carry out the order. She couldn’t let any of her people bear the responsibility of such an act. She could not pass on such a command.
But she just wasn’t capable.
She would falter, and Murphy, pragmatic as he was, would push her aside and fire the weapon. She could see him doing that, and he wouldn’t feel a damn thing.
She used to like Murphy.
Damn Colonel Dacham. Damn him straight to Hell. He was the scariest part of all of this. Shane seemed to be the only one who realized that they were under the command of a psychopath.
She was an officer, but she had risen up through the ranks. In her heart she was a grunt, and she had a grunt’s appreciation of the fact that more often than not, command was truly fucked.
She looked down at the prisoners and realized that this was beyond fucked.
The colonel should never have gotten a commission, much less a command. Even the intelligence arm of the Confederacy should have known better— Her people had been delivered into the hands of a crazy man.
Shane walked to the rail on the edge of the platform and saw Corporal Conner on watch in a nest fifty meters from the west edge of the electrified containment area. Conner was in full battlesuit and was bearing his weapon as though he hoped that someone would try to escape.
She used to like Conner, too.
She was wrong. Her people hadn’t been delivered to the colonel. They were no longer her people, and she doubted that they ever could be again.
Shane turned, passing her gaze over the huddled shadows of the civilians, and saw Corporal Hougland in the nest to the east. Hougland was also in a full suit. She seemed less tense than Conner.
Shane found herself wishing something would happen. They might be civilians down there, but there were eight hundred of them. There were only the three marines guarding them, including herself. Everything else was concentrated on defending the outside perimeter. The fence around them was far from maximum security.
Come on, she urged them mentally, you know what’s going to happen. You’re scientists down there, managers, you aren’t stupid. Don’t you realize that if you all decided to break for it at once, we couldn’t stop you? You haven’t got anything to lose—
Shane stopped still. A chill wind iced across sweat on her brow. She smiled.
“Neither do I.”
Her radio spoke in her ear. “What was that, Captain?” It was Conner. He was way too hyped.
Shane put her helmet on and switched on the night enhancement. After all, she really didn’t have anything to lose. Even if she managed to follow orders, any officers involved in the massacre would be fed to a Confederacy court-martial while the colonel vanished back into the TEC.
Shane would rather be court-martialed for mutiny.
“Corporal Conner, I thought I saw some motion beyond the perimeter. West flank, your area.”
Conner acted predictably, whipping around to cover his rear. He turned his back to Shane. “I don’t see anything, Captain.”
“Cover your flank, Conner. You, too, Hougland.”
Hougland gave her a thumbs up and turned away from Shane.
The only problem now was the range on her stunner. Shane killed her transponder and started down from the platform. She’d have to get Conner first. He was the one most likely to do some damage.
She got to the ground, which was still cracked and blackened from the missile hit on the tower. Hougland radioed her. “Captain, I don’t see anything.”
“Keep your area covered. I’ve seen movement west of Conner’s position. I’ve called the ship for backup.”
Conner was hearing this. He was green; this operation was his first fire mission. Shane knew he was going to see the shadows grabbing for him. She had to reach him before he started shooting, or the other marines would land on her real quick.
What are you doing, Shane? she asked herself. This was her whole life she was about to fuck with.
She could feel her pulse in her ears, and she had a copper taste in her mouth. She became aware of things she’d been safely ignoring a few minutes ago: the soft crunch of her boots on the burnt ground, the sound of her breathing echoing in her helmet, the rhythmic—almost subliminal—movement of the prisoners behind the fence to her left, the way the suit’s harness pulled into her crotch and her shoulders with each step.
She called up the tactical database. It projected the status of Hougland and Conner on the inside of her visor. Hougland’s suit was on full power, but Conner was only running on three-quarters because he had his suit on full environmental containment. If she wasn’t about to attack him, Shane would have reprimanded him for wasting the power. As it was, with the recycler going in his suit, a Paralia Leviathan could sneak up on the corporal.
Shane reached the corner of the prisoner compound and stopped. She wasn’t committed yet.
She told the computer to interpret Conner and Hougland as targets. The computer took in the information without comment and immediately the threat alarm beeped in her ear. 28.5 meters and 105.3 meters. Conner’s form was outlined in red on her visor and the computer started going through the spectrum to get a full image of him, even through the sloped dirt lip of the nest.
“Captain, where the fuck are you?” Shit, Hougland had something on the ball. She’d probably noticed Shane wasn’t on the tac database any more. Now what?
“I’m scouting the perimeter. We’re in a threat situation, I want radio silence. Kill your transponders. Hold your flank. I don’t want to hear anything unless you’re in trouble.”
Shane smiled. That bought some time. Hougland wouldn’t question orders in the middle of combat, no matter what she thought of them. Conner and Hougland dropped from the database as they killed their transponders. The computer was smart enough to retain the last information and integrate it into the threat analysis computer.
Shane advanced on Conner. According to the last information on the tac database, he had—predictably—his personal field on full. That would have caused Shane some problems if she wanted to clean him with an energy weapon. Fortunately, this mission had equipped everyone for covert ops. So Shane had a high-energy personal stunner. It was a special military issue that sucked energy like a plasma rifle, but it was designed to interact with standard-issue military defenses. It would turn a defense screen into a momentary stun field.
Its only problem was the fact that it only had a five-meter range.
Shane was within ten meters of Conner’s position, and she activated her suit’s ECM capability. It was another power drain, but she didn’t want Conner to be able to reach anyone on his radio, or track her on his own threat computer. Hougland might notice a distortion by Conner, but the risk of that was less than the risk of Conner IDing her to the whole compound.
Seven meters to Conner and the corporal started panicking. Shane knew he had just noticed the ECM. His radio was jammed, his radar was probably blowing all over his scope, and his display was probably fuzzed and rolling. Remember your training, Conner, she urged him. Don’t shoot until you have a target. If you don’t panic, we’ll both get out of this alive.
Six meters. This was her last chance to turn back.
Five meters and Conner turned around. Shane could see his eyes widen. He was sweating and hyperventilating in his suit. His weapon bore down on her, and for a moment Shane thought Conner was hyped so much that he would shoot first.