and their assistants.
"They know we're out here," Stossen said shortly after the 13th started moving again. "It's just luck that our reccers spotted them before they got to us this time. Next time, we might not be so lucky. What can we do to improve our odds?"
"The fleet can't keep enough spyeyes in orbit to do much better," Bal Kenneck said. "Last I heard from CIC, the eyes last an average of six hours before the Heggies shoot them down. That leaves a lot of gaps. When one eye goes out, it takes time to get another into position. Of course," he added, "we're shooting down their spyeyes just as quickly, maybe a little more so."
"How do we make up the slack?" Stossen asked.
"The best way would be to get more Wasp flights out here," Kenneck said. "We can put our recon platoons out a little farther, but there's not a hell of a lot more they can do from inside Heyers, and we're traveling too fast to put them on foot."
"We can't use the Wasps for recon, not on a regular basis," Teu Ingels said. "We're going to have trouble getting them for combat support even. There's simply too much work and too few Wasps. The ones that came out this time were chased all of the way out by Boems. We can't afford the losses for recon."
"You're telling me there's nothing we can do?" Stossen asked.
"Not much," Ingels said. "We're pretty much limited to what we get from CIC."
"And that's what the trouble was before," Dezo Parks said, his first contribution to the conversation.
"Unless and until we get out and walk," Ingels said. "I, uh, presume that's out of the question until we get a lot closer to our objective?"
"Absolutely," Stossen agreed. "All we can do, then, is push on as fast as these mixers will go."
"Unfortunately," Kenneck said.
"Give the order, Dezo," Stossen said. "Full out. Spread the reccers out a little more, and farther out from the main body."
"Too far's no good either," Kenneck interrupted. "Too much chance for the Heggies to slip in between, like they almost did this time."
"Looks like all we can do is go like hell until dark, make our course change, and hope the Heggies don't have anything close enough to pick us up until it's too late for an intercept," Ingels said.
"And we've still got to find time to rest the men for a few hours," Parks added. "Soon as they come down from this fight, they're going to be more beat than ever. They can't go forever on stimtabs."
Stossen closed his eyes for a moment. Sleep... what's that?
"If we're going to get any at all," he said finally, "it won't be much. After we make our turn, we'll go to ground, get the thermal tarps spread. Maybe that'll help throw the Heggies off."
But he couldn't help thinking, Or give them a chance to catch us.
—|—
It was difficult making a proper examination while the APC pounded along at forty-five kilometers per hour, but the sleep patch on Joe Baerclau would run out soon, and Al Bergon wanted to get what he had to do done before the Bear woke. As soon as the sergeant realized that he had been out for four hours, he was going to be mad, no matter how necessary the knockout had been.
Al pulled the soaker off of Baerclau's shoulder. The wound was almost completely healed over. The new skin was an angry pink, but the cuts had healed. What Al was interested in were the three tiny pimples that had formed near the exit wound on the back of the shoulder. He swabbed them with antiseptic, then used a pair of tweezers to pop them and extract the tiny bone chips that the nanobots had deposited there. After another antiseptic swab, he put a small soaker over the area of the exit wound. The entrance wound no longer needed a dressing.
"Well, how is he?" Ezra Frain asked.
"Okay," Al said. "By the time he wakes up, even his blood should be replaced."
"Good as new and mad as hell," Mort Jaiffer observed. "He's not going to like the way you zapped him."
"I didn't zap him, he passed out," Al said.
"If you think he'll buy that, let me sell you my return-trip
"They know we're out here," Stossen said shortly after the 13th started moving again. "It's just luck that our reccers spotted them before they got to us this time. Next time, we might not be so lucky. What can we do to improve our odds?"
"The fleet can't keep enough spyeyes in orbit to do much better," Bal Kenneck said. "Last I heard from CIC, the eyes last an average of six hours before the Heggies shoot them down. That leaves a lot of gaps. When one eye goes out, it takes time to get another into position. Of course," he added, "we're shooting down their spyeyes just as quickly, maybe a little more so."
"How do we make up the slack?" Stossen asked.
"The best way would be to get more Wasp flights out here," Kenneck said. "We can put our recon platoons out a little farther, but there's not a hell of a lot more they can do from inside Heyers, and we're traveling too fast to put them on foot."
"We can't use the Wasps for recon, not on a regular basis," Teu Ingels said. "We're going to have trouble getting them for combat support even. There's simply too much work and too few Wasps. The ones that came out this time were chased all of the way out by Boems. We can't afford the losses for recon."
"You're telling me there's nothing we can do?" Stossen asked.
"Not much," Ingels said. "We're pretty much limited to what we get from CIC."
"And that's what the trouble was before," Dezo Parks said, his first contribution to the conversation.
"Unless and until we get out and walk," Ingels said. "I, uh, presume that's out of the question until we get a lot closer to our objective?"
"Absolutely," Stossen agreed. "All we can do, then, is push on as fast as these mixers will go."
"Unfortunately," Kenneck said.
"Give the order, Dezo," Stossen said. "Full out. Spread the reccers out a little more, and farther out from the main body."
"Too far's no good either," Kenneck interrupted. "Too much chance for the Heggies to slip in between, like they almost did this time."
"Looks like all we can do is go like hell until dark, make our course change, and hope the Heggies don't have anything close enough to pick us up until it's too late for an intercept," Ingels said.
"And we've still got to find time to rest the men for a few hours," Parks added. "Soon as they come down from this fight, they're going to be more beat than ever. They can't go forever on stimtabs."
Stossen closed his eyes for a moment. Sleep... what's that?
"If we're going to get any at all," he said finally, "it won't be much. After we make our turn, we'll go to ground, get the thermal tarps spread. Maybe that'll help throw the Heggies off."
But he couldn't help thinking, Or give them a chance to catch us.
—|—
It was difficult making a proper examination while the APC pounded along at forty-five kilometers per hour, but the sleep patch on Joe Baerclau would run out soon, and Al Bergon wanted to get what he had to do done before the Bear woke. As soon as the sergeant realized that he had been out for four hours, he was going to be mad, no matter how necessary the knockout had been.
Al pulled the soaker off of Baerclau's shoulder. The wound was almost completely healed over. The new skin was an angry pink, but the cuts had healed. What Al was interested in were the three tiny pimples that had formed near the exit wound on the back of the shoulder. He swabbed them with antiseptic, then used a pair of tweezers to pop them and extract the tiny bone chips that the nanobots had deposited there. After another antiseptic swab, he put a small soaker over the area of the exit wound. The entrance wound no longer needed a dressing.
"Well, how is he?" Ezra Frain asked.
"Okay," Al said. "By the time he wakes up, even his blood should be replaced."
"Good as new and mad as hell," Mort Jaiffer observed. "He's not going to like the way you zapped him."
"I didn't zap him, he passed out," Al said.
"If you think he'll buy that, let me sell you my return-trip
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