Profiteer

She was wrong. Her people hadn’t been delivered to the colonel. They were no longer her people, and she doubted that they ever could be again.

 

Shane turned, passing her gaze over the huddled shadows of the civilians, and saw Corporal Hougland in the nest to the east. Hougland was also in a full suit. She seemed less tense than Conner.

 

Shane found herself wishing something would happen. They might be civilians down there, but there were eight hundred of them. There were only the three marines guarding them, including herself. Everything else was concentrated on defending the outside perimeter. The fence around them was far from maximum security.

 

Come on, she urged them mentally, you know what’s going to happen. You’re scientists down there, managers, you aren’t stupid. Don’t you realize that if you all decided to break for it at once, we couldn’t stop you? You haven’t got anything to lose—

 

Shane stopped still. A chill wind iced across sweat on her brow. She smiled.

 

“Neither do I.”

 

Her radio spoke in her ear. “What was that, Captain?” It was Conner. He was way too hyped.

 

Shane put her helmet on and switched on the night enhancement. After all, she really didn’t have anything to lose. Even if she managed to follow orders, any officers involved in the massacre would be fed to a Confederacy court-martial while the colonel vanished back into the TEC.

 

Shane would rather be court-martialed for mutiny.

 

“Corporal Conner, I thought I saw some motion beyond the perimeter. West flank, your area.”

 

Conner acted predictably, whipping around to cover his rear. He turned his back to Shane. “I don’t see anything, Captain.”

 

“Cover your flank, Conner. You, too, Hougland.”

 

Hougland gave her a thumbs up and turned away from Shane.

 

The only problem now was the range on her stunner. Shane killed her transponder and started down from the platform. She’d have to get Conner first. He was the one most likely to do some damage.

 

She got to the ground, which was still cracked and blackened from the missile hit on the tower. Hougland radioed her. “Captain, I don’t see anything.”

 

“Keep your area covered. I’ve seen movement west of Conner’s position. I’ve called the ship for backup.”

 

Conner was hearing this. He was green; this operation was his first fire mission. Shane knew he was going to see the shadows grabbing for him. She had to reach him before he started shooting, or the other marines would land on her real quick.

 

What are you doing, Shane? she asked herself. This was her whole life she was about to fuck with.

 

She could feel her pulse in her ears, and she had a copper taste in her mouth. She became aware of things she’d been safely ignoring a few minutes ago: the soft crunch of her boots on the burnt ground, the sound of her breathing echoing in her helmet, the rhythmic—almost subliminal—movement of the prisoners behind the fence to her left, the way the suit’s harness pulled into her crotch and her shoulders with each step.

 

She called up the tactical database. It projected the status of Hougland and Conner on the inside of her visor. Hougland’s suit was on full power, but Conner was only running on three-quarters because he had his suit on full environmental containment. If she wasn’t about to attack him, Shane would have reprimanded him for wasting the power. As it was, with the recycler going in his suit, a Paralia Leviathan could sneak up on the corporal.

 

Shane reached the corner of the prisoner compound and stopped. She wasn’t committed yet.

 

She told the computer to interpret Conner and Hougland as targets. The computer took in the information without comment and immediately the threat alarm beeped in her ear. 28.5 meters and 105.3 meters. Conner’s form was outlined in red on her visor and the computer started going through the spectrum to get a full image of him, even through the sloped dirt lip of the nest.

 

“Captain, where the fuck are you?” Shit, Hougland had something on the ball. She’d probably noticed Shane wasn’t on the tac database any more. Now what?

 

“I’m scouting the perimeter. We’re in a threat situation, I want radio silence. Kill your transponders. Hold your flank. I don’t want to hear anything unless you’re in trouble.”

 

Shane smiled. That bought some time. Hougland wouldn’t question orders in the middle of combat, no matter what she thought of them. Conner and Hougland dropped from the database as they killed their transponders. The computer was smart enough to retain the last information and integrate it into the threat analysis computer.