Song of Redemption Read online

  “OK, let’s get you in the EVA,” the senior sailor, a Navy lieutenant commander, said.

  There were two kinds of EVA suits in the Navy’s supply chain. The first was one that allowed for working outside a ship. Fluorescent orange and white, they were made to be visible, and they had only enough armor to protect against micro-dust. The second was the EVA combat suit, which looked like a cross between the Navy work suit and a Marine mech suit. The surface was chameleon fabric, which covered about the same amount of armor as a Raider’s PAL-5 had. It was bulkier than a PAL-5, though, with the air, water, and propulsion jets. Rev had been in mock-ups at boot camp, but he’d never been in a real one before, nor had he operated any other than in the sims.

  “You need to take off that arm first,” the lieutenant commander said.

  Rev reached over, twisted his social arm, and removed it, then handed it to Daryll. He looked at the suit for a moment, wondering if being one-armed would make it difficult. He shouldn’t have worried. The combat EVA was surprisingly easy to don. The front was split open, and Rev essentially backed into it, first stepping into each leg, then wiggling his butt and back into place as active padding conformed to his body, hugging him and keeping him in place. He ran his right arm into the sleeve, then waited as one of the other sailors closed up the front.

  “Now for that other arm,” the lieutenant commander said.

  “We’re going to have to manhandle it on him,” Daryll said. “It’s heavier than it looks.”

  The top and two of the sailors lifted Pashu and struggled to hold it in place until Daryll could make the connections. Once that was done, Rev took over supporting it, to the relief of the other three.

  “And now, about that little vacuum thing?” Rev asked.

  “We’ve got it.” One of the Navy techs took a roll of silvery tape out of his bag and stepped up to Rev.

  “Wait. You’ve got to be kidding me. Duck tape? You’re sending me into space with duck tape?”

  “That’s duct tape, not duck, as in quack-quack, tape, and this isn’t your hardware-store duct tape,” the sailor said. “We use this for repairs in space. Don’t worry.”

  “Is that true?”

 

  “And you trust that with your life?”

 

  “You know what I mean. But OK, should I trust it?”

 

  Rev lifted Pashu and rotated the shoulder, which made the sailor jump back. “Just making sure everything’s tucked in place.”

  The sailor stepped back up and started wrapping the duct tape around Rev’s shoulder, down the little bit of EVA suit extending past that, and halfway down Pashu’s upper section. He wasn’t stingy with the tape, putting layer over layer.

  “I think that will do,” he finally said as he stepped back to admire his work.

  “Then, let’s test it,” the top said. “See if this bad boy works.”

  The five stepped out of the chamber and sealed the door. Their faces crowded the windows.

  “We’re going to remove the air in stages. We should be able to tell if there’s a leak, but if you hear any air escaping, or if breathing becomes difficult, then let us know,” one of the sailors said through the speaker.

  If I can’t breathe, how am I going to be able to tell you that?

  But he just gave a thumbs-up with his right hand.

  “For the moment, don’t move. Just stand there. Beginning depressurization now,” the sailor said. Rev could see her reach for something just out of his sight, and a moment later, the display number started falling.

  Rev immediately started holding his breath, then laughed as he realized he was overreacting, just beating the sailor’s, “Breathe normally, Sergeant.”

  It didn’t take long. Within twenty seconds, the display read a complete vacuum. And he was still breathing.

  The sailor looked at the lieutenant commander, who nodded. “We want you to raise your . . . arm, the big one. Your left. Raise it to ninety degrees.”

  Rev lifted Pashu . . . and suddenly, alarms went off, and Rev could hear air escaping. He snapped his arm back down as his heart jumped to his throat, and he held his breath again. O2 rushed back into the chamber.

  The door opened, and Daryll and the male petty officer came inside. The petty officer was holding what looked like a spray can.

  “Lift your arm again,” Daryll said with a calm voice. He leaned in to check the tape.

  “Do you know where it’s leaking?” Rev asked.

  “They put telltales in your suit. We can track them, and they leave blue marks as they escape.”

  Telltales? I’m breathing them in?

  “Check on the medical effects of these telltales.”

 

  “There,” Daryll said, pointing to a spot on the backside of Rev’s shoulder.

  The sailor sprayed the spot as if he was spraying disinfectant on a puppy’s accident. It didn’t seem to be very high-tech. Rev couldn’t see the spot, and with the EVA on, he couldn’t reach around to feel it. But the sailor seemed satisfied, and the two left the chamber for another test.

  It took four more tests before the seal was secure. Rev went through every possible motion until there was a leak, and that would be plugged up. But at last, everyone was satisfied. Everyone except Rev, that was. He was the one who was going to be going into combat with a couple of BC’s worth of duct tape and ship goo to keep the vacuum out and the air in. It was just too slipshod for his comfort level.

  But the team was in a celebratory mood as they cut Rev free and removed Pashu. “Let’s see those assholes on the Restore do any better,” the lieutenant commander crowed while giving the others high fives.

  And Rev realized that for them, this was a victory. It didn’t have to do with killing Centaurs. It didn’t have to do with keeping subordinates alive, but rather tackling a mechanical problem and coming up with a solution.

  Rev shook his head, ignored by them. No matter how hard he might try, he knew he was never going to understand the engineering mind.

  10

  As quickly as the Task Force had been authorized, formed, and embarked, it wasn’t quick enough. When TF 46-3 arrived at their target, the Frisians had beat them to it. Two Frisian Host ships straddled the asteroid belt, and upon the arrival of the Union/Heg task force, had sent out a message on the universal channel that they were invoking CoH regulations on the exploration of unincorporated space.

  That indicated two things. First, the Frisians were aware of what the interrogation of the Children of Angels prisoner had revealed, not that that was surprising. Second, they were not going to simply cede whatever it was to the Perseus Union without a fight. Rev didn’t know if the Frisians were at the other two locations, which them being within Union space might make that more problematic. But here, in unincorporated space, they were willing to risk war. Again. San Jacinto was only three months ago.

  With the Frisians already searching, the PUNS Restore and two of the Navy combatants were diverted to the asteroid belt, and First and Second Raider Teams were cross-decked to the Alacrity. TF 46-3 was now a larger, more powerful force, but outright war was not something the admiral wanted to put on her shoulders alone, especially when there might not be anything in the belt. It took an hour for the orders to come back from New Mars—deploy in an aggressive formation, but do not engage for the moment. Most importantly, if there was a Centaur installation within the belt, find it and claim it before the Frisians could.

  If the Frisians found it first, the Directorate would decide upon the next course of action. Rev didn’t know what that actually meant, what actions were on the table, so it would just be better if they found the installation first and made the Frisian presence moot.

  Finding anything, however, wasn’t going to be easy. Asteroid Belt 6-067 was made up of densely packed nickel-iron asteroids covering 1,200 kiloklicks—which was nothing in deep space but was a huge area in which to find a specific installation. The task force would be relying on scanning to identify possible targets, but the nickel-iron asteroids wreaked havoc on their instruments.

  So, the Navy SEALs were now tasked to birddog the Frisians at a distance to keep tabs on them. Squads from XI Force and the Union’s Delta Company were sent out on what were essentially patrols, checking potential sites, while Rev and the Raider platoons were being kept aboard the Alacrity. If nothing was found, Rev would never leave the confines of the ship, keeping the IBHU program secret for another day.

  But if there was real evidence of a Centaur installation or artifact, then the Raiders would spring into action with the mission of taking it intact, whether it was being defended or not. And the assumption was that it would be.

  There were several issues, however, with taking an installation inside of an asteroid. The first was that the intel indicated that the installation was protected by a small number, maybe only two or three, Centaurs. Within the probable confines of an asteroid, a couple of Centaurs might very well be able to pull a Horatius at the bridge scenario, holding back any number of Marines thrown at them.

  Second, they may not simply try to hold the Marines off. Given their proclivity for self-destruction, they might do that with the entire artifact. Even if the artifact itself wasn’t rigged to blow, Rev had seen what a Centaur self-destructing could do in the open. In a closed area, the destruction would be magnified.

  The Marines’ one ace in the hole was the modifications done to his IBHU beamer. In normal usage, the employment of the braided beams ablated in an atmosphere, but this fight was going to be in space. Knowing that, and using the data collected on Donner Hide, his beamer had been tweaked, giving it not only more power, but focused on the frequencies that the science-types thought initiated the self-destruction. It was possible that with a super-blast of his beamer, he could not only kill a Centaur but also keep it from self-destructing.

  When Rev had asked what the possibility of that was, after some hemming and hawing, they told him from forty to fifty percent, depending on what type of Centaur awaited them. Punch put the number closer to twenty percent. Rev was going with Punch’s calculations.

  Captain Omestori had the Raiders working out scenario after possible scenario. Without a combat sim, they couldn’t do a total walk-through, but he’d gone as far as having the ship’s captain use pallets to create a constrained path in one half of the hangar deck, simulating corridors inside an asteroid.

  Rev felt a little ridiculous walking around the hangar, shouting “Bang, bang” during the rehearsals, but after a few of them, he could see their benefits. It was better than nothing.

  After the first day, however, the captain came down with an unidentified virus and was put into isolation. Second Lieutenant Harisa took over with Top Thapa assisting, but the hangar rehearsals petered out with the intent of keeping everyone fresh and rested.

  That meant that while Navy Scouts were carefully navigating the belt, looking for anomalies, Rev and the Raiders were cooling their heels on a five-minute alert, which for Rev, meant in his EVA combat suit, helmet off, left arm already sealed shut. And after two fruitless days, he was getting mighty sick of it. He almost wanted to start rehearsing again, just for something to do.

  “You think they’ll find anything?” Tomiko asked for about the hundredth time as they sat in their little section of the hangar playing Knock On.

  “I’m beginning to doubt it. I mean, I know there’re a zillion hunks of rock out there, but if there is anything to it, how come the Navy hasn’t spotted it yet?” Nix said.

  “It’s all an angel shit trick. I told you that,” Hussein said. Also, for the hundredth time. “They just want us to waste resources. I mean, why would the tin-asses stick something important out here in human space, then only have a couple of them protect it? Makes no damned sense.”

  “Why do the tin-asses do anything they do?” Tomiko said.

  Staff Sergeant Delacrie shook his head and said, “You heard intel. They didn’t want an obvious footprint. We’ve been gaining ground on them, slowly but surely, and if they had a big operation, we would’ve spotted it by now.”

  “And how do they know that? ’Cause an angel shit told them so? Like Miko said, we don’t know why they do anything.”

  Rev just shut his eyes and leaned back the best he could on a bench one of the Navy mechs made for him. He reeked, the smell making its way up through the helmet ring. Yesterday, he told the crew that he thought the plumbing was wonky, but after a quick check, he was assured it was working as designed. He still reeked, though, and he noticed that the others were giving him more than the normal space.

  He loved his team, but sitting with them like this on the hangar deck could get on anyone’s nerves. And they could leave and go to the head, sleep on the cots set up along the bulkhead, or even take a quick shower. Rev was stuck in his suit until this played out, one way or the other.

  The alarm sounded the next day, shocking Rev out of his catnap. He jumped up, looking for his helmet. The entire platoon was scrambling to their feet.

  “Get kitted up,” Lieutenant Harisa shouted as she grabbed her helmet and put it on her head, not bothering to first don the rest of her EVA suit.

  Sailors rushed over to help, one grabbing Rev’s helmet. “Ready?”

  Rev nodded, and with sure hands, the sailor slipped it over Rev’s head and double-twisted it to lock it in place. A blast of body odor hit him, but with the helmet in place, the air started circulating through the filters. He activated the system and ran his checks.

  “This is it. We have a target,” the lieutenant said as she started to get into her own EVA.

  “What about the captain? Is he coming?” Staff Sergeant Delacrie asked.

  “Still in isolation. I’m in command. We have positive contact, Asteroid 6-067-442. I’m sending over the data now.”

  There was a beep, and Rev’s EVA received the orders, displaying the location of the target. A red line tracked the intended course of the shuttle that would take them there.

  “Board as soon as you check green.”

  Rev was the closest to the ramp, and he ran up and to his usual rear right seat. Within moments, Marines were rushing in and taking seats.

  “I’m sending the mission, but we do have what is probably a hit. It looks like the Fries have entered the target, though.”

  The mission appeared on his face shield. It was one that they’d rehearsed in the hangar deck at least ten times. Third Team, with Rev, was the point of main effort, and Second Team would be the support element going inside with Third. First and Fourth would remain on the surface of the asteroid as the security element, ready to take over if the other two teams were taken down.

  The back ramp closed, and the shuttle departed the ship. The Alacrity normally carried only the standard Ibis shuttles, but for this mission, an Osprey had been brought aboard. Used for ship-boarding, it was fast and maneuverable—but the target was well within the asteroid belt, so it was still going to take over thirty minutes to make the transit. And if the intel was right, the Frisians had already entered the asteroid. The objective had been for Delta Company to locate the target first and not have the Raiders play catch-up.

  But operations rarely proceeded as planned, and the Marines were nothing if not flexible. Lieutenant Harisa spent the next twenty minutes adjusting their plan on the cuff, trying to foresee the potential roadblocks.

  “And if the Frisians resist our arrival?” Top Thapa asked. “Has the commodore officially weighed in?”

  He was going to be on the asteroid’s surface with First and Fourth Teams, but it was a valid question. It had been discussed, of course, but Rev knew the Top wanted it said out loud.

  “There’s no change. We are to get to the artifacts first, and we have the green light to defend ourselves.”

  Which wasn’t an answer. What every Marine understood was that they had to recover the artifacts, doing whatever it took. But probably going all the way to the Director Prime himself, they were not going to be given explicit orders to kill Frisians.

  Which put them into a difficult position, and it was why Rev had been counting on Delta Company finding the target first. He’d served with the Frisians, and he respected them. He hoped that it would not devolve into fighting.

  “Let’s go over this again. I want to make sure . . . wait one. I’m getting an update,” the lieutenant said. She listened for a moment, then told them, “The target is hot. There’s been an explosion, and it looks like we’ve lost a SEAL team.”

  “How the hell did that happen?” Top asked. “The SEALS were not supposed to engage. Did the Fries attack them?”

  Rev felt the familiar surge of adrenaline as he got his combat on. He didn’t want a fight, but he couldn’t help the rush of excitement. He was by now convinced that this was all artificial, but knowing that didn’t change anything.

  “It’s . . . I don’t have everything. It looks like the SEALs followed the Frisians inside an opening in the asteroid, and there’s been an explosion. I . . . wait, I’m getting new orders now.”

  Rev wanted to curse the EVA suits. Unlike when in his PAL-5, his comms were more limited, and he wanted to be able to monitor the command net to know what was going on.

  “ . . . we’re still on. There’s what looks like another opening on the other side of the target. We’re to conduct a hostile entry,” the lieutenant said, her voice rising in excitement.

  Rev had accepted the artificial adrenaline boost for him as a fighter, but he’d really rather have his officers working without chemical stimulation.

  “One of the Navy scouts is scanning the asteroid now, so stand by.”