"We've only got three psybloc grenades left," Tara whispered. "We can't fight the O's without them."
"There's nobody here, Tara," I said, "so quit your whining."
Willard was with us, sticking close to Tara, hiding behind her legs. He was a little young for a recon mission, but Tara refused to leave him behind.
Icy drops, splattering in my hair, running down my face. My heart pounded. Movement—what could it have been?
"Report, Sweety."
"No life, no movement—situation normal."
"It was right up ahead," Tara said.
"Isn't this where we stashed the O's?"
"Yes. Yes, it is." We had dragged the four awful corpses into a room midway between the bridge and the stardrive and left them there. A present for the Legion, should we ever return.
"Tara, you'd better stay with the kid. Gildron, come with me."
"Be careful, Wester!"
"You should have told me that before I joined the Legion."
###
There was alien blood all over the corridor—pale whitish sticky blood, more than I remembered. The door snapped open as Gildron and I approached, our E's pointing into the darkness within.
I stepped in, cautiously. The room was dark. No life, Sweety said. I scanned the room with the light from the E. Three dead O's on the deck, shot all to hell. A horrible stench. Cold sweat, trickling down my temples. I backed out of the room into the corridor. Gildron and I scanned the corridor. Nothing.
"Zree V," Gildron informed me calmly. "Zree!"
"Well?" Tara was against a corridor wall, shielding Willard with her body.
"One of our O's went for a little walk," I informed her.
"What do you mean?" She hissed it.
"There's only three bodies in there," I explained. "There should be four."
"That's impossible!" she gasped. "Tess, scan the ship! Find the missing body!"
"The body is not present within the ship," Tara's tacmod replied immediately. Tara was speechless, for the very first time. I was breathing a little faster than normal, I'll admit. Under siege—yes, we were certainly under siege. Vac leeches outside, and something else roaming around inside.
"We'd better get back to the bridge," I said. Tara did not respond.
"Wester to Tara. You still with us?"
"There's no other exit from that room, is there, Wester?" She sounded perfectly calm.
"Not as far as I can tell."
"Then we weld the door shut. From the outside. Let's do it!"
"Let's just forget about it, all right, Tara?"
"No—we weld the door. Now!"
"I think we should get back to the bridge."
"We will. But I don't want a repeat of this, whatever it is. Weld the door."
"Weld the door." I sighed. "Good idea."
###
"Did the V come back?" Willard asked. We were on the bridge, awaiting our fate. We had not only welded the door, we had booby-trapped the corridor. Anyone approaching the room with the bodies was going to get one big, nasty surprise.
"We're not sure, honey," Tara responded carelessly. She was working on the controls again, and she was not happy. I was not happy either. Gildron and I crouched by the main door to the bridge with our E's. We had left the bridge door open—we wanted a clear field of fire down the corridor. I had a live psybloc grenade clutched in one hand, and another at my waist. Tara had the third one. My E was set on auto canister x, safeties off. Just a single twitch of my finger and the entire corridor would erupt—nothing would survive. Nothing! Several contac grenades were lined up before me on the deck, ready to go. I was slick with sweat.
"Can we help?" Willard asked. He dumped the contents of my toolpak all over the deck.
"Sure," I said. "You can be chief of security. And Gildron, here, he's in charge of strategic planning. Is that all right with you, Tara?"
"Fine," she snapped back, "and what do I do?" She was still fooling around with the controls.
"You're the bus driver, Tara. You're in charge of transportation. You're supposed to get us out of here. But you can be my One, too, if you like. Sure, why not? I'll promote you—you're now acting One of Squad Beta, Second of the Ship. I don't want to think any more, I'm sick of it. You're in charge, Tara."
"I'm honored," she replied coldly. "And what about you? What are you going to do?"
I laughed, and snapped the E up to my shoulder, aiming it down the corridor. The scope brought it right up to me—perfect.
"I'm your E, Tara," I said. "I'm your weapon. Just aim me at the O's when they come. Just throw me at them. I'm your attack dog. I'm a mindless biogen, totally expendable. I'm a silver bullet, for alien intruders. Just give me the word, Tara—just set me loose! I'll kill all your enemies, I'll tear out their throats and come back happy and lie at your feet. Just feed me ammo—that's all I need." I cradled the E in my arms. It was cold—I was shivering. The E was all I really needed, in this life. Who could possibly want anything else?
"Wester, I'd like you to take an icer." Tara had left her post by the controls and was rooting around in a medpak.
"I don't need an icer," I said. "An icer is the last thing I need. I've been chewing mags like candy."
"I know you have, Wester. And you've got to calm down! We're all in this together. We all depend on you, Wester. Please?" She knelt beside me, holding the little green tablet in her fingers. I took it from her and popped it into my mouth.
"You can be the medic, too," I said. She didn't move.
She just knelt there, hanging her head. Gildron gazed at her curiously—he knew her moods better than I did. Willard banged away with the tools on the deck.
"Something wrong?" I asked. It was probably the most idiotic question of the year, considering our situation.
She shook her head wearily, continuing to stare at the floor. "I can't do it, Wester."
"You can't do what?"
"The controls. It's not going to work. Your theory is right—I'm sure it's right, and so is Tess. But it's not enough. A great deal is missing. I can't integrate the nav function with the stardrive controls. I'm not even sure I've found the right controls yet! It's all so complex! We're just guessing what does what. I've tried everything—there's no way of knowing what's right, and what's wrong. And if we do it wrong, we die."
"I see." I still clutched the psybloc grenade in my left hand.
"I'm sorry, Wester. I've failed. I'd only be kidding us both if I said there was any hope. There's no way out."
"Well, I appreciate that input. Thank you for keeping me informed." Cold sweat, trickling down my face. I carefully slid the pin back into the psybloc grenade and set it on the deck. Tara did not move. It was not like her. I shifted the E to my left hand and raised her chin with my right. She didn't look too good.
"When was the last time you slept, Tara?"
"I really thought we could do it, Wester. I really did."
"I don't believe you're going to give up."
"I wanted to do it for Willard—if not for us. Just to give him his life back. Only that."
"You need some rest. You can't think straight like this."
"I can't rest, with vac leeches boring holes in the hull, and…whatever else…loose inside the ship."
"The leeches can wait. It'll probably take them months to actually cut through the hull. You need some rest—now!"
"I can't rest!" Her eyes blazed again. "We've got to get out of here, Wester! But there's at least four different ways I've come up with to sequence the launch procedure. And probably others I haven't thought of! And they all could be wrong! I have no idea which, if any, will work!"