Zack watched realization dawn on Lindy. He saved her from having to make explanations. “Marianne, Colin Jenner is an RSA survivor. He lives at the coast.”
Tears clouded her eyes. Zack knew, already, she was a person who would hate that public display of weakness. He took a stab at redirection. “You said you’re infected with a virophage against the original R. sporii?”
“Yes.” He watched her face steady. “But I doubt it will have any effect on this variation. If the virus has been merged with a bird virus, the two versions will be too different.”
“Yes, but we can try. Have you cultured the virophage?”
“Yes. But those cultures are aboard ship. There are anomalies in infected native animals—I want to talk to you about that. Later.”
Yes, later. Zack turned to the physician, Claire Patel. “We’re doing work here that will interest you I think. And now that these scientists are here from World”—he nodded at the two men—“with their much more advanced knowledge, the work will probably go much better!”
Silence. Then Claire said in a flat voice, “There is no ‘much more advanced knowledge.’ World science and technology are about fifty years behind ours. Ours when we left Terra, I mean.”
“But… but… the energy shields! The spaceships!”
“Not theirs. And they don’t know whose, any more than we do.”
Zack considered this, while the world turned itself inside out, like a sock. World was not ahead of Terra, but behind. There would be no help from the stars.
But there would be no advanced weapons, either, which was undoubtedly what Jason Jenner had been talking to the star-faring soldier about. Jenner would gain only the ship itself, if he had managed to save it.
That, and five transplanted refugees who probably wished right now that they had never left home.
CHAPTER 3
“Sir,” Lieutenant Seth Allen said in Jason’s earplant, “we picked up the starship captain, Branch Carter. He’d left the ship in an esuit and was following the FiVee’s tracks here. He says he thinks he can move the ship. It hasn’t been hit yet, although one missile came close. But sir, it’s a whole lot bigger than we expected. Maybe twenty times the size of the one that launched twenty-eight years ago.”
Jason said, “Okay, stand by.” He tongue-flicked off his mic and turned to Mason Kandiss, the soldier from the Return. Jason wanted a debrief about the whole situation, but there was no time for that now. Zack McKay and Lindy had the other nine refugees in a far corner of the signaling station, checking them out and answering questions. Outside the signaling station, the drones still attacked—how many more missiles were the fuckers prepared to expend? Jason would have to have the signaling station moved again, assuming the external equipment survived. If it didn’t, they’d lose contact with the comsat as well as the ship, and communication with Headquarters would be reduced to the uncertainties of long-distance radio.
Private Kandiss stood at attention, a faded Ranger tab on his shoulder. Jason said, “At ease, Private. I need information. Does that ship have its own e-shield?”
“No, sir.”
“What can destroy it?”
“On World, a shoulder-launched missile blew a big hole in it. It was repaired.”
World had shoulder-launched missiles? Jason thought it was supposed to be peaceful, without war. But no time to go into that now.
“To the best of your knowledge, can Captain Carter lift the ship again?”
“He says so, sir.”
“Can he park it in a stable orbit high enough to preclude a drone attack? Earth no longer has space-missile capacity.” Long gone. But at least Earth no longer had fighter jets, or they would have hit the spaceship already. The world’s remaining jets sat rusting on cracked tarmacs, all fuel long since expended and no people to make more.
“I don’t know, sir. Carter isn’t really a pilot. He’s a lab assistant with a knack for hardware.”
Christ. The only starship on Earth and it depended on a lab assistant with a knack for hardware. But it wasn’t like Jason had much choice; they had no additional dome to put the ship under, even if it would’ve fit, and a direct missile hit could take out the signaling shield at any moment. Jason flicked on his mic.
“Lieutenant Allen, take Carter back to the ship and stay in it while he takes it up to low orbit. Take IT Specialist Martin with you. Up there, both of you learn everything he knows about the ship—maneuverability, communication capacity, fuel stores, weapons—particularly weapons. Await contact with us—we might wait to contact you, to avoid giving away the position of the next station. If you hear nothing in a week, it means the contact equipment has been destroyed. Land somewhere and hope. Go now.”
“Yes, sir. Out.”
Jason scanned the station. Sergeant Hillson stood with more of J Squad, awaiting orders. The star-farers huddled with Zack McKay and Lindy in a corner. As soon as he deemed it safe, Jason would send them all to the base.
“Sir,” Kandiss said, “permission to speak.”
“Go ahead.”
“What happened to the Seventy-Fifth?”
The Ranger Regiment of the United States Army. Of course Kandiss would want to know; he must have assumed he would return to it, albeit twenty-eight years later than he’d expected.
“I don’t know. They were headquartered at Fort Benning, weren’t they?”
If Kandiss felt surprise that Jason didn’t know this, it didn’t show. “Yes. And the Second Battalion at Joint Base Lewis–McChord.”
“Benning is gone. Pretty much the entire East Coast was heavily nuked during the war. It’s not livable. Seattle and Portland were taken out, too, as was Creech Air Force Base. There are a few other Army bases left and staffed, or at least the parts of them that were under domes, notably Fort Hood and Fort Campbell. We are in communication with them. Headquarters is Fort Hood, ranking officer is General Ethan Lassiter, who is the military head of the United States under martial law.” Jason didn’t add that Lassiter was eighty-three and sickly. Let that information wait.
Kandiss said, “Commander in chief?”
“There is no president anymore. Chain of command starts with Lassiter.” Whom Jason would have to apprise about the Return as soon as possible.
“Yes, sir,” Kandiss said. His face was stone.
“You are hereby officially attached to J Squad of this company,” Jason said, knowing that what men like Kandiss needed was structure. “When we return to base, see Sergeant Tasselman about billeting. After that, report to me for full debriefing.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Kandiss joined the other refugees. A Ranger in such superb physical condition would be an asset to the elite J Squad. And Kandiss was probably the most reliable source for learning in military terms what had happened on World, including to the rest of Kandiss’s unit. And hadn’t there been an ambassador along?
His grandmother would know.
Jason turned his back to the group of refugees. He had never before considered himself a coward. He had seen military service in Congo, he had come through the horror of the Collapse, he had fought New America. He had taken control of Monterey Base when there was nobody else left to do so. He was a colonel in the United States Army. He could steel himself to do what was necessary to the man in the underground prison in order to further protect the safety of those in his charge.
But faced with his grandmother, the woman from the stars whom he had long thought dead, a thousand memories flooded his already stressed brain: Grandma making him and Colin peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Grandma teaching him to read. Grandma believing Colin could superhear what Colin said he could, when no one else believed. Grandma was the same as Marianne Jenner, world-famous geneticist—Jason’s childish pride when he had first realized that! Grandma—