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Authors: John Lumpkin
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our
destination. So we should move out.”
Chapter 4
WASHINGTON – Vowing to a crowd of 750,000 people that
“we will not give ground” in the war with China and Korea, President Alexander
Victor Delgado was sworn in for his second term on Wednesday. As with his 2137
inauguration, he took the oath on his mother’s Bible and later recalled her
sacrifice fighting separatists on Jefferson. Delgado’s election marked the seventh
straight in which the House of Representatives determined the outcome of the
election and the thirteenth such instance since the four-party era began. Police
ejected hundreds of protestors making their usual plea for a constitutional
amendment allowing for popular election of the president, but experts see
little chance of it happening.
New Albion colony, Entente
The Chinese Marine’s left leg was already covered in wet sand.
A rivulet of clear sea water ran over it, splitting where the heel of his boot
emerged and rejoining at the toe before flowing down to the waterline to feed a
few drops into the next oncoming wave.
Neil crouched at what he considered a respectful distance and
stared at the body. Some of the troops on the beach thought him odd, but those
who saw the intelligence badge on his uniform let him be … the intel guys were
always a little weird, with all that special knowledge they had, or something.
Who was he? Neil wondered. The dead man was
face-down, with no visible exit wound from his back. He had died facing his
enemy, the British and Canadian and Australian soldiers who defended this beach
and their colony beyond. Someone had already collected his rifle, but the rest
of his gear was still attached to his clothes. Was he an Entente colonial, or
from Earth, or one of the Chinese planets? Was he a volunteer or a conscript?
Did he believe in what he was doing? What ran through his head as he and his
comrades ran off the landing boat, charging the gun positions, as Apache and
the other ships in orbit swept the beach with lasers? Twenty years ago, some
mother and father, probably, had been happy at his birth and, probably,
invested time and effort into his becoming a learning, thinking,
self-sufficient person, who they, probably, hoped would provide them
grandchildren someday. And he, probably, had twenty years of experiences, of
laughter and pain, and friends and lovers and loss, memories which, probably,
ended with the fragmentation of an eight-gram bullet inside his heart.
Two more bodies were in immediate view, one crumpled, one
splayed out and face-up. Both were Chinese; the British and Canadian and
Australian dead were up in the dunes. Neil wondered if the bodies would
decompose any differently on Entente, where the population of bacteria and
insects interested in them was much smaller than on Earth.
Far up the beach, where sea mist rendered it a pallid,
ghostly blue, was the smoking chassis of a large Chinese hovercraft. Its
operators had beached it to serve as a gun platform during the landing; they,
too, had died fighting.
“Mercer? Learning anything?” a gravelly voice said. The form
of its owner interposed itself between Neil and the body, putting Neil in
shadow.
“Not really, sir,” he said, standing up.
Commander Marc Raleigh, who, like Neil, wore the key, globe
and dagger badge of Space Force Intelligence, regarded him oddly for a moment,
and said, “Score one for the good guys. This defense is the stuff of legends,
Mercer.”
“Yes, sir,” Neil agreed. Neil had mostly watched, rather
than participated. With its damaged gun turret and inexperienced master, Apache had not been given a major role; she had been part of the decoy force that
drew off the Chinese and Korean ships orbiting Entente just long enough for the
British transports to land their troops. When the enemy ships returned, the
orbital battle had been fierce, with warships on both sides fighting each other
even as they skipped off the top of the atmosphere on bombardment runs over
this
destination. So we should move out.”
Chapter 4
WASHINGTON – Vowing to a crowd of 750,000 people that
“we will not give ground” in the war with China and Korea, President Alexander
Victor Delgado was sworn in for his second term on Wednesday. As with his 2137
inauguration, he took the oath on his mother’s Bible and later recalled her
sacrifice fighting separatists on Jefferson. Delgado’s election marked the seventh
straight in which the House of Representatives determined the outcome of the
election and the thirteenth such instance since the four-party era began. Police
ejected hundreds of protestors making their usual plea for a constitutional
amendment allowing for popular election of the president, but experts see
little chance of it happening.
New Albion colony, Entente
The Chinese Marine’s left leg was already covered in wet sand.
A rivulet of clear sea water ran over it, splitting where the heel of his boot
emerged and rejoining at the toe before flowing down to the waterline to feed a
few drops into the next oncoming wave.
Neil crouched at what he considered a respectful distance and
stared at the body. Some of the troops on the beach thought him odd, but those
who saw the intelligence badge on his uniform let him be … the intel guys were
always a little weird, with all that special knowledge they had, or something.
Who was he? Neil wondered. The dead man was
face-down, with no visible exit wound from his back. He had died facing his
enemy, the British and Canadian and Australian soldiers who defended this beach
and their colony beyond. Someone had already collected his rifle, but the rest
of his gear was still attached to his clothes. Was he an Entente colonial, or
from Earth, or one of the Chinese planets? Was he a volunteer or a conscript?
Did he believe in what he was doing? What ran through his head as he and his
comrades ran off the landing boat, charging the gun positions, as Apache and
the other ships in orbit swept the beach with lasers? Twenty years ago, some
mother and father, probably, had been happy at his birth and, probably,
invested time and effort into his becoming a learning, thinking,
self-sufficient person, who they, probably, hoped would provide them
grandchildren someday. And he, probably, had twenty years of experiences, of
laughter and pain, and friends and lovers and loss, memories which, probably,
ended with the fragmentation of an eight-gram bullet inside his heart.
Two more bodies were in immediate view, one crumpled, one
splayed out and face-up. Both were Chinese; the British and Canadian and
Australian dead were up in the dunes. Neil wondered if the bodies would
decompose any differently on Entente, where the population of bacteria and
insects interested in them was much smaller than on Earth.
Far up the beach, where sea mist rendered it a pallid,
ghostly blue, was the smoking chassis of a large Chinese hovercraft. Its
operators had beached it to serve as a gun platform during the landing; they,
too, had died fighting.
“Mercer? Learning anything?” a gravelly voice said. The form
of its owner interposed itself between Neil and the body, putting Neil in
shadow.
“Not really, sir,” he said, standing up.
Commander Marc Raleigh, who, like Neil, wore the key, globe
and dagger badge of Space Force Intelligence, regarded him oddly for a moment,
and said, “Score one for the good guys. This defense is the stuff of legends,
Mercer.”
“Yes, sir,” Neil agreed. Neil had mostly watched, rather
than participated. With its damaged gun turret and inexperienced master, Apache had not been given a major role; she had been part of the decoy force that
drew off the Chinese and Korean ships orbiting Entente just long enough for the
British transports to land their troops. When the enemy ships returned, the
orbital battle had been fierce, with warships on both sides fighting each other
even as they skipped off the top of the atmosphere on bombardment runs over
this
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