21
“Don’t the bastards know they’ve lost,” Hussein asked.
“There’re always going to be true believers, defenders of the faith, who’ll fight to the bitter end,” Yazzie said.
“I just wish they’d get to that bitter end, then.”
The team had paused in a small square. On one side, the two-story buildings looked untouched. On the other three sides, they were rubble. Rev idly wondered how that happened.
He agreed with Hussein, however. He was tired of this operation, tired of the killing of fellow humans, even traitors. He just wanted to get back to New Hope and unwind.
Fighting the Centaurs was a noble cause, one upon which the very existence of the human race depended. This? This was dirty. This wasn’t glorious at all.
Staff Sergeant Delacrie reminded him that as the allies of the Centaurs, fighting them was no different than fighting the tin-asses directly. And the Centaur the grunts and the Navy gunship killed, while not a complete surprise, lent credence to the team leader’s words. It didn’t matter, though. Rev didn’t like what they were doing one bit.
“Two minutes,” the staff sergeant called out.
Rev just wished he could take a break and get out of this mindset. A wandering mind was a recipe for disaster.
“Hey, you want to hear a joke?”
<You are asking to tell me a joke?>
If it was possible for an AI to sound surprised, Punch just did.
“Yeah. You’re always asking me. Thought I’d mix things up.”
<Yes, I would like that. >
“It’s a little different than our normal fare, but here it goes: I told my physical therapist that I broke my arm in two places. He told me to stop going to those places.”
There was no reaction from Punch. Nothing.
“Like I said, it was different. I’m not asking you a question to set it up.”
Still nothing.
“It’s because I broke my arm in two places, like my upper arm and lower arm, and my doctor thought I was in two different places, like my home and the store, and in both places, I broke my arm. You get it?”
<I think that was a very fine joke.>
“You’re being sarcastic now. Too much time with a one hundred PQ.”
<I am serious. It was a very fine joke.>
Great. Feeling grateful for an AI’s approval. Rev, you really do need a break.
“OK, boys and girls. Mount up. First, take over the lead. You’ve got our route,” the team leader said.
With a sigh, Rev stood up. The sooner they completed the sweep, the sooner they could get back, eat, and catch some Zs. He doubted they’d find anyone. This little village had borne the brunt of a battle, and it had been swept before several times. But the brass calculated that there had to be some 20,000 Children of Angels left unaccounted for planetwide, and the admiral couldn’t declare victory until a lot more of them were either captured or killed.
First Element led the patrol in a staggered column with Yazzie first and on the right, then Rev on the left, and Tomiko on the right again. It wasn’t the most secure formation, and if they were hit from the front, the three of them would mask the rest of the team. But it provided for reasonably quick movement, and given the light degree of risk, Rev thought it was the right formation.
They left the square and proceeded down the main drag, what was left of residential homes along the sides, each with a small courtyard. Rev peered over the walls, if there were any left standing, searching for signs of life.
There was no human life, but in the third courtyard, there was a small Earth tree, a single tattered leaf clinging to a branch, in an orange clay pot. From the leaf, Rev thought it might be a maple. Somebody had tended to the fragile sapling, and Rev wondered who that had been. Angel shit? Someone else? Were they still alive?
He had a sudden desire to step inside the courtyard and water the tree. The native flora would soon take over the village, and the little sapling would need to be bigger and healthier to fight it off.
Give me a break, Reverent. Getting sentimental over a tree?
He shook his head and kept walking, scanning for any heat signatures. Scanning for human heat signatures, that was. With a battle destroying the town, there were plenty of heat sources, from battery-powered equipment in the wreckage to banked fires, still smoldering under the rubble.
At the far end of the street, the homes showed less damage. The staff sergeant was probably going to want to clear each one, Rev knew. But it was the right move, and he’d order the same thing if he were in charge.
He approached the first home that still had four walls, scorched, but still erect. There were several hotspots, which made sense given the fire, but none were big enough to be caused by an adult human.
Beyond this house, there was a flattened area of rubble, but ahead of Yazzie on her side of the street were a few relatively intact homes. Those were the ones that really had to be cleared, and that would take all three of them while the rest of the team provided security.
He hissed at Yazzie, and when she turned to look at him, he signaled her to halt. Then it was the hand over the eyes, telling the staff sergeant behind him that he was going to take a look—not the sign to clear the building.
Tomiko asked him if he wanted her to join him, but after a moment, he signed no. The one-story home was essentially gutted, and it wouldn’t take him but a moment to look around. No use holding things up, especially as the other homes farther down the street were going to take more time.
He stepped up to the meter-and-a-half-tall wall and did a quick scan of the courtyard. There wasn’t much—just some dusty debris and a brightly colored bike on its side, still with training wheels attached.
The wall was intact but slightly skewed, jamming the wrought-iron gate. Not enough to withstand him. With a quick shove, he broke it free, sending a chunk of wall skittering across the courtyard to slam up against the front wall. Rev froze for a second, but nothing moved. He switched back to thermal, but the small hotspots seemed not to have changed.
Rev gave the rest of the patrol a quick glance, then entered the courtyard. It was small, maybe five meters deep and running the width of the house. A walkway led up to the front door. He stepped over the bike and onto the stoop. The door hung askew in the frame, and through the crack, he could see that the back wall was gone, light streaming in.
Rev leaned back and kicked heel-first, knocking the door off its remaining hinge and into what was the main room, which looked like it took up most of the small house. He stepped through the doorway, cleared to the right, then to the left—and froze.
Two meters to his left, huddled on the floor against the wall and under the blown-out window, a fearful, dirt-streaked face of a little girl looked up at him. That wasn’t what froze him, however. In her hand, held out to him like a shield, was a detonator.
Rev whipped down his M-49 to take her in his sights. She flinched, then used her free hand to cover her eyes.
“What is that?”
<A detonator. From appearances, it is set up as a dead man’s switch.>
Which confirmed Rev’s instincts.
<There appear to be wires leading into her backpack, where common sense would have explosives.>
Rev hadn’t noticed the backpack until then, a pink and turquoise pack with a butterfly visible on the top. He didn’t know for sure there were explosives inside, but the girl wasn’t holding a detonator for nothing.
Rev gave a quick glance behind him. Tomiko was across the street, her head just visible above the wall. He considered his options. He was still in the doorway, and he could dart outside before the girl could drop the detonator. The wall might protect him from much of the blast. But then what?
“Rev, what’s going on?” Tomiko shouted.
Rev stuck his left arm out of the doorway, signaled Tomiko to halt, then gave her the sign for enemy.
Sorry state of affairs if this girl is the enemy.
“I’m coming over,” Tomiko shouted.
“No!”
The girl flinched at his shout, then started softly crying into her arm.
“What’s your name?” Rev asked, then berated himself.
That’s the best you can do, Reverent?
But a soft voice said, “Katerina Psalki,” her face still hidden, her right arm still holding the detonator.
He retracted his face shield. A flurry of smells hit him, not the least being urine. The girl had been sitting there long enough to befoul herself.
“Katerina, my name is Rev, and I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, eyes locked on the thumb holding the red button down.
“Yes, you are. You hurt little girls.”
A surge of anger flared through Rev, but he pushed it down and calmly said, “No, I’m a Marine. We don’t hurt little girls.”
A single reddened eye looked over her arm, taking him in. Her blonde hair was disheveled and dirty. “You have a gun.”
Which he still had trained on the girl. He hurriedly lowered it. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
He racked his brain for something to say when she said, “Mr. Mark said you kill little girls and boys and eat them.”
“Mr. Mark is wrong. We protect children.”
She raised her face for the first time to look at him. The dirty streaks had been caused by tears, but the hand holding the detonator was steady.
“Mr. Mark says I have to kill you,” she said in a resigned voice.
Rev’s heart sunk into the pit of his stomach. The backpack was bulky, and it could easily carry enough to destroy what was left of the house, the girl, and him. There was no telling for sure.
“How were you supposed to do that?”
“Wait until one of you came into my home. Then let go of this,” she said, raising the hand with the detonator.
Rev almost dove for it, but he restrained himself. He couldn’t afford to startle her.
“Why haven’t you done that?”
“I don’t want to die,” the girl said, breaking into tears again. “I know Mr. Mark said I won’t, but I’m not a baby. I know!”
“I know you’re not. You’re very brave. How long have you been here?”
“Since yesterday morning. I haven’t moved, just like Mr. Mark said.”
Crap. Since their assault broke down. And she’s been here for that long, holding that friggin‘ detonator.
His opinion of the little girl, as well as his pity, went up several notches.
“Corporal Pelletier, what the hell’s going on in there,” Staff Sergeant Delacrie shouted from the wall.
The girl looked startled and tried to crane her head to see out the window.
“Wait a moment, Kat. Can I call you that?”
“My friends call me that,” she said, wiping her snuffles into the crook of the arm holding the detonator.”
Shit. Be careful!
“OK, Kat. Just sit still.”
He took a step back and onto the stoop. “I’ve got a little girl in here, wired to blow her and anyone near her to kingdom come.”
“Fuck!” the staff sergeant said. “The bastards! OK, here’s what we’re going to do. Step back, and get on this side of the wall here. I need you out of the blast area. We’ll decide what to do once you’re in the clear.”
Rev looked back, but the girl, Kat, was just around the sill and out of the team leader’s sight. She could undoubtedly hear what was being said.
“I know what you’re going to do,” Rev said quietly.
The staff sergeant closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and said, “Remember that exercise aboard the ship? Remember our talk?”
“Yes, I do. But this is different. She’s just a kid, and she doesn’t want to hurt us.”
OK, she said she didn’t want to die, not that she didn’t want to hurt us.
But that was close enough to the truth, he told himself.
The staff sergeant took a moment to pick his words. “It sucks, Rev. I know it does. But this isn’t our fault. This is the fault of the asshole who set her up as a weapon. I’m assuming she’s got a dead man’s switch?”
Rev nodded.
“Then she’s already dead. Take it from her, and she blows up. Try to remove the bomb, she blows up.”
Which was true, he knew. And the staff sergeant was right. That had been the entire lesson of that training module.
“She was murdered by her own people, Corporal. Not you. Not me. Look, you just come clear. Maybe there’s something we can work out. Call EOD or someone.”
Fat chance. EOD is working overtime as it was, and from a strategic standpoint, how important was one little girl, a child of traitors? She’d be so far down the priority list that it just wouldn’t happen.
“You know that isn’t going to work.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s out of your hands. I’m giving you a direct order. Step out of the courtyard now,” the staff sergeant said, leaving no doubt that he was serious.
Rev knew what he should do. It really wasn’t something up for debate. He was a Marine, and he’d received a lawful order, and not only that. It was the right order.
But he was a convict, right? They conscripted him into the Corps because he couldn’t follow the rules.
“Shit, Staff Sergeant. You know I got my head knocked yesterday, and my ears are still ringing. I can’t quite hear what you said. I think it was to go back inside.”
He spun on his heels as Tomiko shouted, “No, Rev!” and the staff sergeant started yelling at him to stop.
Rev stepped back inside, and Kat squeaked and held the detonator out at him, a priest holding the cross to keep back the devil.
“Easy, Kat,” he said. “I’m here to help you.”
“That man wants to kill me. I heard him.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s just afraid. Like we all are.”
Her eyes widened at that, and she asked, “You’re afraid, too?”
“All the time. It’s natural.”
Outside, the staff sergeant was still yelling at him. Rev tuned him out. He’d already disobeyed a direct order, so it really didn’t matter much. At least the team leader hadn’t come into the courtyard.
Kat tilted her head as if to hear the yelling, then she shook her head in a manner well beyond her years and said, “It’s OK. I knew I was going to die.” She gave a sniffle and wiped her nose again.
“No, you’re not. I won’t let it happen.”
She looked up at him for the first time with a tiny spark of hope, but it almost immediately faded.
“Mr. Mark said if I let go of this, it will explode. And if I take off my Benny Butterfly backpack, it will explode. He said the only way to live is to wait for one of you soldiers, and then I wouldn’t die.” She paused for a moment before adding, “But I know that’s a lie. It will explode when I let go, then I’ll die even with you here.”
“Maybe he’s right,” Rev said, more to himself than to her.
He put his M-49 down, leaning it up against the wall. “I’m going to come closer, OK, Kat?”
She tensed again but didn’t object.
“I’ve got a friend here,” he said, pointing at his head. “His name is Punch. He might be able to help.”
Her eyebrows scrunched together in puzzlement. “An imaginary friend? My momma says those are silly. They aren’t real.”
<Oh, that hurts.>
“Glad you have something to say.”
<You haven’t asked me anything.>
“Oh, he’s real enough, Kat. And he wants to look at you. Are you OK with that?”
She paused for a long moment as she considered the request. Her hand holding the detonator shifted for a brief moment, and Rev’s throat almost closed down.
“OK,” she said. “If you think so.”
Rev slowly walked forward until he was right in front of her. He knelt, focused on the detonator. He gently took her hand and turned it over, then followed the hardwire down her arm, under a cloth band, and to the backpack. He asked Kat to lean forward, then tried to get a good look at the entire thing. When he was done, he stood back.
“What do you see?”
<That is definitely a dead man’s switch. Release the button, and the explosive will detonate. Cut the wire to the pack, and while I haven’t seen what is inside, that will trigger the detonation.>
“Should I open the backpack?”
<No. In eighty-six percent of similar suicide vests, opening the container triggered the detonation as well.>
“Well, we’re not doing that.”
“Are you going to help me, sir?” Kat asked.
“I’m Rev, not sir, Kat. And I’m trying to figure it out.”
“You heard her. What about taking off the backpack. It’s not attached to her.”
<There is a wire on the bottom of the backpack, the other side attached to the waist. Move the explosive away, and that will detonate the charge. And if you are about to suggest that you cut it . . . >
That was exactly what he was going to suggest.
<There is also a receiver on the bottom of the backpack. From previous cases, it could be linked to a transmitter. Ask her if something was injected into her.>
“Hey, Kat. Did Mr. Mark inject you with anything when he put this on you?”
“No, sir.” Rev felt a surge of hope before she shut that down with, “He made me swallow a pill.”
<That tracks.>
Kat was sitting on the ground, looking up at him with sad eyes, eyes that said she knew there was no hope. But Rev wasn’t about to give up.
“I can’t take the detonator. I can’t remove the backpack. I don’t even know how far I can move it before it explodes unless we open the backpack, and we can’t do that because that could trigger the damned thing.”
<That sums it up well.>
“So, what do I do?”
His battle buddy remained silent. This wasn’t what it was programmed for. If there was a way out of this, it was on him.
“Can you stand for me, Kat?”
“Is that OK? I mean, Mr. Mark told me to sit here.”
“We’ve already figured out that Mr. Mark is a liar, right? And I’m right here.”
She didn’t look too sure of herself, but she slowly stood, almost stumbling before Rev caught her. Both of them looked at her death-grip of the detonator. Her thumb had slipped to the very edge of the red button. Rev carefully reached out and pressed down over her thumb, going over his battle kit, trying to remember if he had any tape—just simple, ordinary tape.
Of course not. Why would it be that easy?
“OK, I’m going to slide your thumb over to the center. Can you help with that?”
She nodded, and Rev slid her thumb, always keeping pressure. He got it to the middle and slowly let go before letting out a big breath of relief.
“I peed myself,” Kat said in a miserable voice, using her free hand to brush ineffectually at her shorts.
“Don’t worry, honey. I do it, too, inside my armor.”
Not quite the same, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
Rev took a hard look at the backpack. It was loose. He could probably slide it right off and drop it to the floor, but to what end? Unless . . .
His mind went into overdrive, pushed by necessity. Synapses snapped with ferocity, and it was almost as if he were outside his body, watching his mind churn.
Another augment they didn’t tell me about?
It didn’t matter. Suddenly, he knew what to do. It was probably foolish, and it would probably get them both killed, but . . .
He took a step forward and looked out the window. Tomiko, Nix, and the staff sergeant were in a deep discussion at the gate, Delacrie gesturing wildly. The rest of the team was in a hasty defense along the street, weapons pointing outward, but with continued glances back to see what was happening.
“Hey! All three of you. I’d suggest you either back off or at least duck down behind that wall.”
“Corporal Pelletier! I’m ordering you to leave that girl there and get your ass out of there!” the staff sergeant said, his face red with anger.
“Listen to him, Rev,” Tomiko said, anguish taking over her features.
“No can do. But I would duck down if I were you.”
“What the hell are you going to do?” the staff sergeant asked.
“I’m going to save a little girl; that’s what I’m going to do.”
He looked down at Kat, who showed a brave face as she tried to smile.
“I’m ordering you to—”
“You already said that,” Rev said, cutting him off.
He didn’t resent the team leader. He’d do the same thing if it were Yazzie or Tomiko instead of him. But the gods of war determined it would be him in this particular place, this particular time, and this particular situation.
“Now, Kat. This is what we are going to do. First, you hand me the detonator,” he said, placing his hand over the top.
“But—”
“I’ve got it. Slowly slide your hand away.”
She started to cry again, the tears rolling down her cheeks, but she complied. She gave a small squeak as her arm fell free, her hand crabbed into a claw after holding it for so long.
Kat started to step back, and Rev had to grab her shoulder with his other arm to keep her close.
“You need to stay with me. Don’t move away. Now, here’s what we’re going to do. I want you to loosen your backpack, OK? You’re going to let it drop a little bit.”
“But Mr. Mark said that if I take it—”
Rev put two of his gauntleted fingers lightly over her lips. “You have to trust me. Can you do that?”
She nodded her head solemnly, her eyes open wide. For a moment, Rev felt like he was falling into them, the specks of blue and green reminding him of the nebula cloud rushing toward the planet.
Snap back, Reverent!
“I’m going to help you.” He put his hand on the top of the backpack as she lowered her arms, letting it slide down until it was hanging just below her butt, the straps on her elbows. Rev took a long look. There wasn’t enough room.
“Hold still now.”
I shouldn’t have taken the detonator yet.
But he couldn’t give it back. Her hand, finally freed, wouldn’t be able to hold it again. He could tell her to drop it, but that could set it off if the transmitter was in her stomach.
Still holding the detonator with his left hand, he tried to unhook the right backpack strap, but as good as the PAL gauntlets were, he struggled. With a muttered “Fuck,” he snapped the thing.
“You shouldn’t curse,” Kat said quietly.
“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t. Sorry.”
“Now, I’m going to pick you up, OK? But don’t move. Stay as still as you can.”
“Yes, sir. Please be careful.”
“I will.”
The narrowest part of a Marine in a PAL-5 was at the waist. He looked at his, then at the gap between the girl and the backpack. For a moment, he considered shucking his combat suit, but he was counting on the armor to keep not just him but the girl safe. Safer. If his battle buddy was right, there was enough explosive in there to blow them both to smithereens without the protection of his armor. He didn’t know if even that would protect him.
He squatted and slid his left arm under Kat’s and around her chest. “Hold on tight to my arm.”
Slowly, he stood, hugging her into his front. For a moment, he realized that he’d just exposed the girl to the staff sergeant, who was still watching with the other two. He didn’t think Delacrie would shoot her, but he turned around anyway, presenting his back to them.
“I’m going to try and scoot between you and the backpack. I need you to stay very, very still. Can you do that?”
“I . . . I think so,” she said in a very small voice.
This is it.
He knew this was a wild-ass plan, something someone who didn’t know better would come up with. If he was wrong, he was about to kill Kat for sure, and probably himself too.
What was that saying? He who will not risk, cannot win? Well, this is a helluva risk.
Rev started working his hips between Kat and the backpack, and with each centimeter, he expected the pack to explode. Kat cried out in pain a few times, but she didn’t move a muscle. Farther and farther, he got more and more of himself in. His heart was about to burst from his chest.
<Initiating—>
“No!” he shouted, making Kat cry out.
“Not you, honey. Not you.”
“Pelletier. We’ve got another plan,” the staff sergeant shouted, but Rev was too far along. Just another couple of centimeters.
But just as he almost had her in front of him, she snagged on his battle harness. He looked down, and it was the wire running from her waist to the backpack. He couldn’t risk breaking it, and he couldn’t risk pulling it free from the pack.
Rev could retreat, then start again, but he didn’t dare trust that. Already, most of Kat was shielded by his body.
“By the Mother, give me strength.”
He lifted her slightly and then backed down, holding Kat out farther from him until the wire fell free.
“Thank you, Mother,” he said, and he hugged Kat tight again.
He slipped his right arm through the right strap, and after three or more wiggles, he was between Kat and the backpack. It hung loosely from his right arm.
“Are we OK?”
“Almost there, Kat. Just be brave.”
This was going to be the tricky part. Rev lowered both of them to the ground until Kat was standing on shaky legs. “I want you to make yourself as small as you can. Hold your hands in front of you and then don’t move.”
She nodded her head and hunched over. As small as she was, Rev thought that if the backpack exploded now, she might be protected by his bulk.
“Lean into me with your back.”
He bent over her, his chest on her head. As she pressed into him, he cautiously released his hold with his left hand and passed the pink backpack with his right along his shoulders, bending his left up and around to slide his left arm through the remaining strap, all the time making sure that the wire attached to Kat didn’t go taut.
It took an excruciatingly long time, and every moment he expected it to detonate. The staff sergeant, Nix, and Tomiko were yelling at him, but he tuned them out. All that mattered in the universe was a pink and yellow backpack covered with butterflies.
Kat started crying louder, gasping for breath between sobs. “Mommy, mommy,” she said, over and over.
The contortion worked. The backpack slid over his left arm, free of his right. With his own sob, Rev knelt again and put his right around Kat. He tried to keep the backpack from swinging free, exposing the girl, but he was able to stand.
He couldn’t believe his cockamamie plan had worked so far. They were both still alive. But now, it was crunch time.
“Kat,” he said in the calmest voice he could muster. I need you to hold tight in my arms. And when I tell you, bring your knees up. There’s going to be a big boom.”
“No!” she shrieked, kicking out.
“It’s OK. You’ll be OK. But I want you to look for my friends. They’ll come in to help you. Promise me that.”
“I don’t want to die!” she wailed.
“You won’t. Not if you do what I say.”
By the Mother, I hope I’m not lying to her.
“Promise?”
“Promise, honey.”
She was shaking in his arm, but she quit kicking.
He turned his head slightly and yelled over his shoulder, “I’m serious. Either get the hell back or down behind the wall. Now!”
Rev backed up until his right side was behind the wall, his left just at the window opening. He whispered to Kat, “I’m so glad I met you. Now bring up your legs.”
He felt her comply as a sense of calm flowed over and through him.
“More nano play?”
<I thought it appropriate.>
For once, Rev didn’t mind being manipulated.
With a sense of finality, Rev swung his left arm backward, with the detonator in his hand and the backpack hanging from his elbow out the opening and down under the sill.
Nothing happened.
Shit. I guess we’re still within range.
Not that it changed anything. It was still there. Maybe it was only a few more centimeters, and it would blow. He turned his head over his left shoulder to look at it again. An iridescent butterfly reflected light at him.
He steeled his nerves once more.
“You with me, battle buddy?”
<Always. Not that I have much choice, you know, just being a hunk of crystal stuck inside your brain.>
“OK, now, that’s funny.”
With the smile still on his lips, Rev released the detonator.