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A hand fell on my shoulder. I craned my neck around, hoping it was Kwon.

Major Sarin’s face met my eyes. I smiled. “Good to see you made it, Major,” I said.

“You too, sir,” she said.

Her hand lingered on my back. I made no move to brush her off. Finally, I heaved myself up. “Let’s have a little command conference,” I said.

She followed me into the cramped restroom. There, face-to-face, we talked in low voices so the others wouldn’t overhear. I had a feeling we were going to be discussing grim realities that the others didn’t want to know about.

“What do we have left?” I asked.

“Not much,” she said.

I saw her face tremble a fraction. I’d rarely seen emotion on her face. She must experience it, but she hid it well. Right now, she looked like she was going to cry. I didn’t blame her.

“Any casualty estimates?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know yet. Maybe half are dead or floating around without propulsion. The rest of us are standing on the cruiser.”

“We’re bugs to them now,” I said. “Fleas. We can’t easily get inside. Have we got any mines or other explosives?”

“A few…but if we light anything off out here…”

“I know,” I said. “We will be blowing ourselves off the hull.”

“We’re short of air and worst of all, power, sir,” she said. “These generators need fuel and calibration. They were built for combat, but not the battering they’ve taken.”

“Any sign of Kwon or Gorski yet?” I asked.

“No sir.”

I shook my head. I really hoped we hadn’t lost them. I’d watched Welter die, and I couldn’t afford more of my key officers. I caught Major Sarin staring at me then, and I saw the welling tears in her eyes. I realized she’d finally cracked that tough exterior of hers. The Macros had a way of doing that.

“What is it, Jasmine?” I asked, trying to soften my voice.

She looked pretty, dirty, and scared. “I don’t know,” she said, rubbing her eyes and sniffing. “I’m sorry.”

“Talk to me,” I said. “In an hour it will probably be too late.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It just seems hopeless.”

“We’ll get this ship,” I told her. “We have to.”

“What about after that?” she asked. “I mean-every day we lose more men, more of everything. We are fighting like rats out here over scraps. I feel-I feel like we’re doomed, sir.”

I naturally felt the same way, but it was the job of every commander to stay confident to the point of absurdity. How could my marines fight if I was blubbering and moping about?

“Nonsense,” I said. “We all have our doubts, but we will survive. And even if we don’t, we are helping out the people back home with every Macro we take down.”

She licked her lips. She closed her eyes and nodded. I could see she was trying to stuff all her emotions back into that suitcase she kept them in. I marveled at her control. This was the first time I’d ever seen her crack.

Suddenly, I bent forward and kissed her. It was an impulse, and she recoiled at first, making me regret it. Then she responded, and we kissed. It felt very nice, but I wasn’t even sure why I’d started this. She was just there, looking vulnerable and sweet for a second. I was sure we were going to die a grim death, and when you are really convinced of that, people sometimes do things they wouldn’t otherwise consider. I figured she felt the same way.

I heard something and snapped my eyes open. There was a fast, flickering motion. So fast! I threw up my arm behind Major Sarin’s head, but I couldn’t completely block the blow.

Sarin went down, sprawling. Her head welled blood. A handful of her dark hair was still wadded up in her attacker’s fist.

“Sandra?” I said, incredulous.

Sandra stood there, a naked beauty dipped in black paint. The microbial creatures covering her had all dried up and turned crusty by now. In spots, they were flaking away.

“Have you gone nuts?” I asked.

She stared at me in a fury. “I heard it all,” she said. “Every word you whispered to her.”

“But how…”

“I heard you kiss her. I heard your heart accelerate. Hers too-”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my hands coming up in a calming gesture. “I’m so glad you are awake and alive.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Yes, really. This didn’t mean anything,” I said, gesturing down to poor Sarin. I knelt and checked her pulse, which was still strong. She’d awaken shortly with a headache and a burning spot on her scalp that was missing a lot of hair. “Jasmine didn’t deserve that. She was just scared.”

“I told you once I’d kill if you fooled around.”

“You can’t go around smashing fellow officers.”

“You can’t go around making out with them.”

I shook my head. “It was one kiss at a weak moment. I apologize.”

Sandra still stood over Major Sarin, watching us both intensely. I nudged Jasmine, but she wasn’t going anywhere. I felt the back of her head. “I think you fractured her skull.”

“Get away from her,” Sandra said dangerously.

I looked up at her with narrowed eyes. This was not quite the Sandra I knew. She sounded-a bit crazy. I decided it was time to redirect her anger. “Are you pissed?” I asked.

“Totally,” she said.

“How’s this: we’ll turn Sarin over to the medics, and we’ll turn some of that attitude against the Macros.”

“Together?” she asked.

Each word she spoke, I now realized, seemed to be forced from her lips, almost as if she had a bout of stuttering she was holding back.

“Yeah,” I said, standing slowly. “Let’s do this together Sandy.” I invoked a pet name I only used for her in private moments.

“Don’t call me that,” she said. “Not today.”

I nodded. We walked out of the restroom and I sent help inside for Major Sarin. I was nonplussed to see Carlson responding to my call. He had survived? Great news, there.

Carlson gaped at Sandra as he went by. She was still naked, painted black and staring at everyone with wide, crazy eyes. She didn’t seem to care about her appearance at all. The rest of the guys in the brick had their mouths hanging open. Sandra took no notice of them.

“Let’s spray that gunk off and get you into a vacc suit,” I said.

She let me help her, but her muscles were tense and quivering the entire time. She almost never blinked her eyes. I had a thought as I adjusted her suit and doubtfully gave her a weapon. She was reminding me of every marine I’d seen recovering from the nanite injections. She had that look of new strength, almost as if she’d been born into a new body she didn’t quite know how to control yet.

“I don’t want a gun,” she said, handing back the light hand-beamer I’d given her.

“What then?” I asked.

She took my knife off my belt and held it with fingers that gave tiny tremors. I could see her shaking, even through her gloves. I wanted to order her to take a break, to sleep off whatever was going on in her head, but something in her eyes was electric, like a twisting live cable that snapped and sparked. She was holding herself back, I realized.

What the hell had Marvin, Ning and those microbes done to her? I figured they had probably all perished on Jolly Rodger, and I’d most likely never learn the truth.

37

My marines and I crawled over the hull like angry ants, but the ship was like a sealed mason jar-there just wasn’t any way in. We avoided the underside of the ship and thus were nowhere near the deadly belly-turret. Every hatch we could find was slagged shut from the inside.

Kwon showed up eventually and we tried a group burn-through, concentrating our beamers on a single spot to make it white hot. I had no doubt we could have done it with a beam tank, but blasting our way into the hull wasn’t working, at least not quickly enough. Sandra stood nearby, silent and staring.

“This is not happening, Colonel,” Kwon told me.

“Yeah,” I said. “We need something heavier.”