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Authors: Karen Traviss
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two.
“Terrific,” Baird said. “Now I’ll never know. Next time we find one—”
“I don’t give a shit what any grub’s got to say.” Marcus gave Bernie a shove toward the ’Dill. Cole reminded himself that they had history, regimental history. “Control? We’re done here. Returning to base.”
They piled into the ’Dill and headed back. Anya took the wheel. Cole sat back and tried to read what was going on—and there was a lot a guy could read in a bunch of tired, shattered people. Bernie linked her arm through Dom’s, not a word said, and Dom let her, then shut his eyes. It was a real nice motherly thing to do. Anya took a quick look at Marcus a couple of times, and he looked back in a way that wasn’t exactly a smile but wiped a few lines off his face for a moment. Baird sat dismantling a Lancer chain, not making eye contact, probably because he didn’t know how to tell everyone how glad he was that they were all alive and could actually think about a real future, not just the bullshit one that Prescott always used to talk about to make people forget they probably wouldn’t see tomorrow.
Yeah, nobody had to say a word. Everyone understood.
“I’d like to think that wasn’t me back there,” Bernie said quietly. “But it was, and that’s the thing that’s going to be the thin end of the wedge if we let it.”
Dom didn’t open his eyes. “You’d have stopped yourself. I’m not sure if I would have.”
Nobody needed to add that they wouldn’t have blamed him. Cole hoped he knew that.
CHAPTER 3
We can’t stop them. We don’t know where they come from. We don’t know what they want. They don’t even seem to want territory. All they do is kill. We can’t even begin to negotiate with them, or work out their objectives, because we just don’t know the first damn thing about them. That’s not an enemy, Mr. Chairman. That’s a monster . (GENERAL BARDRY SALAMAN, CHIEF OF THE COG DEFENSE STAFF.)
CHAIRMAN’S OFFICE, HOUSE OF THE SOVEREIGNS, EPHYRA, ONE YEAR AFTER THE LOCUST EMERGENCE, FOURTEEN YEARS AGO. Father was dead, but even if he’d still been alive, he would have had no advice or answers to give his son now. Richard Prescott wasn’t fighting his father’s war anyway. It wasn’t about energy supplies or land. Nobody on Sera had ever fought this kind of enemy before; there were no rules or precedents, and a year and a month after the Locust Horde had erupted from the ground, Sera—human Sera—was close to collapse. I’ve been in office two months. I wouldn’t even be here if Dalyell hadn’t dropped dead. What do I know?
I know that we’re all going to die if I don’t pull this out of the fire now .
“Sir?” The office door opened slowly. “Sir, I’ve got Premier Deschenko on the line now. I’m sorry about the delay.”
The delay had been ten hours; Prescott had been trying to get hold of the man since last night. Jillian, his secretary, hadn’t left the office in days, but then few of his staff went home regularly each night now, and it wasn’t just a primal human need to huddle together with familiar faces. It was desperation. Somehow, there was a feeling that the answer might be around the next corner if they just kept on trying, or spent one more hour looking for a break.
“Good,” Prescott said. “Put him through.”
He pressed the phone to his ear and shut his eyes. It was easier to concentrate that way. He needed to hear every nuance in Deschenko’s voice, because he was going to ask the impossible, and he had to know if he was actually going to get it.
“Yori? How are you?”
“I’ve just had to order the retreat from Ostri.” Deschenko sounded hoarse and exhausted. “I mean the whole country . I’ve lost nearly twenty brigades since E-Day, and now I need the few troops I have left to defend Pelles.”
Prescott hadn’t expected good news anyway. But that wasn’t what he was seeking. “You know what I’m going to ask.”
“Richard, I
“Terrific,” Baird said. “Now I’ll never know. Next time we find one—”
“I don’t give a shit what any grub’s got to say.” Marcus gave Bernie a shove toward the ’Dill. Cole reminded himself that they had history, regimental history. “Control? We’re done here. Returning to base.”
They piled into the ’Dill and headed back. Anya took the wheel. Cole sat back and tried to read what was going on—and there was a lot a guy could read in a bunch of tired, shattered people. Bernie linked her arm through Dom’s, not a word said, and Dom let her, then shut his eyes. It was a real nice motherly thing to do. Anya took a quick look at Marcus a couple of times, and he looked back in a way that wasn’t exactly a smile but wiped a few lines off his face for a moment. Baird sat dismantling a Lancer chain, not making eye contact, probably because he didn’t know how to tell everyone how glad he was that they were all alive and could actually think about a real future, not just the bullshit one that Prescott always used to talk about to make people forget they probably wouldn’t see tomorrow.
Yeah, nobody had to say a word. Everyone understood.
“I’d like to think that wasn’t me back there,” Bernie said quietly. “But it was, and that’s the thing that’s going to be the thin end of the wedge if we let it.”
Dom didn’t open his eyes. “You’d have stopped yourself. I’m not sure if I would have.”
Nobody needed to add that they wouldn’t have blamed him. Cole hoped he knew that.
CHAPTER 3
We can’t stop them. We don’t know where they come from. We don’t know what they want. They don’t even seem to want territory. All they do is kill. We can’t even begin to negotiate with them, or work out their objectives, because we just don’t know the first damn thing about them. That’s not an enemy, Mr. Chairman. That’s a monster . (GENERAL BARDRY SALAMAN, CHIEF OF THE COG DEFENSE STAFF.)
CHAIRMAN’S OFFICE, HOUSE OF THE SOVEREIGNS, EPHYRA, ONE YEAR AFTER THE LOCUST EMERGENCE, FOURTEEN YEARS AGO. Father was dead, but even if he’d still been alive, he would have had no advice or answers to give his son now. Richard Prescott wasn’t fighting his father’s war anyway. It wasn’t about energy supplies or land. Nobody on Sera had ever fought this kind of enemy before; there were no rules or precedents, and a year and a month after the Locust Horde had erupted from the ground, Sera—human Sera—was close to collapse. I’ve been in office two months. I wouldn’t even be here if Dalyell hadn’t dropped dead. What do I know?
I know that we’re all going to die if I don’t pull this out of the fire now .
“Sir?” The office door opened slowly. “Sir, I’ve got Premier Deschenko on the line now. I’m sorry about the delay.”
The delay had been ten hours; Prescott had been trying to get hold of the man since last night. Jillian, his secretary, hadn’t left the office in days, but then few of his staff went home regularly each night now, and it wasn’t just a primal human need to huddle together with familiar faces. It was desperation. Somehow, there was a feeling that the answer might be around the next corner if they just kept on trying, or spent one more hour looking for a break.
“Good,” Prescott said. “Put him through.”
He pressed the phone to his ear and shut his eyes. It was easier to concentrate that way. He needed to hear every nuance in Deschenko’s voice, because he was going to ask the impossible, and he had to know if he was actually going to get it.
“Yori? How are you?”
“I’ve just had to order the retreat from Ostri.” Deschenko sounded hoarse and exhausted. “I mean the whole country . I’ve lost nearly twenty brigades since E-Day, and now I need the few troops I have left to defend Pelles.”
Prescott hadn’t expected good news anyway. But that wasn’t what he was seeking. “You know what I’m going to ask.”
“Richard, I
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