Cygnus’ Dining Room dominated the main deck’s starboard side. Unlike most zeppelins that accommodate passengers in a gondola, Cygnus’ passenger decks were encapsulated in the balloon itself. The envelope’s exposed inner wall hosted animated scenes depicting the Martian Discovery Phase. Guardsmen and their officers walked about the deck or loitered on chairs that were made with lightweight polymers and nanotubes.
‘And,’ Hameed said, ‘Naktong had a small fleet – three Sparrowhawks, I believe. Now I’m going to tell you something you don’t already know.’
Robert sat forward. ‘Speak.’
‘Yesterday, there was actually only one aircraft at Naktong – a Sparrohawk. The rest of the fleet was making a supply run to Cassini when the enemy came. However, every registered pilot that was at Naktong is now at Cassini. One of the pilots had been taken ill so he was a passenger. Cassini was going to send a new flyboy to Naktong. We’ve spoken to Cassini – all ships accounted for apart from one.’
‘I can see where you going where this,’ said Robert, ‘but you may as well finish.’
Hameed snapped his fingers. ‘We received a distress beacon this morning from that same Sparrowhawk – a hundred kliks north of Naktong. Someone tried to run. My guess is they ran dark, landed and then panicked and lit the beacon.’
‘You think Sarah ran,’ said Robert, ‘you think she ran in a Sparrowhawk.’
‘She was the only person on that site capable of flying it,’ said Robert. ‘You know her best. Does that sound like something she’d do?’
Robert consistently doubted his understanding of his wife, but he concealed the fact. He shrugged. ‘She is resourceful,’ he said. ‘And quick-thinking,’ he added.
‘When asked the same question,’ Hameed continued with relish, ‘her aunt the Director General said that it was “absolutely something she’d fucking do”. I only wish you were there. It was fantastic.’ Robert didn’t answer. Hameed went on. ‘But you knew that if you did attend the briefing, Mitchell would have detained you in the city. You’re a crafty, bad man. That’s good.’
‘So, you’re telling me that iMicor might not have her?’ said Robert, ‘that she’s what – lost in the desert?’
‘It’s possible,’ said Hameed, ‘but we mustn’t speculate. And now the best part: Mitchell issued a very public order for a very public counter-attack on Naktong.’
‘Strong, decisive action,’ said Robert. ‘I know this.’
‘She also gave Colonel Rosen a very sneaky little order for a very sneaky rescue operation. We are to use our best unit to investigate the distress beacon and to recover anyone from Cydonia in the area – whatever the cost. So, while I’ve been ordered to co-ordinate a very testing operation on Naktong with almost no notice, I’ve just committed by best unit to a rescue operation.’
‘Well,’ Robert said, his stomach tightening. ‘That certainly is news. There is going to be a fight this very sol?’
‘Come now,’ said Hameed, sensing Robert’s tension, ‘I hardly expected this to surprise you. Or were you among those expecting a peaceful alternative?’
‘Of course not,’ Robert said quickly. ‘Who did you send?’
‘Our best unit,’ Hameed replied, ‘at whatever cost.’
Arabia Terra
‘Sparrow One,’ Markus said to the fleet. ‘Recover the swan. Sparrow Two, recover the scouts. Sparrow Three – on my trigger, fire as you bear.’ These were the last orders he would issue before action. The pilots repeated their orders, Markus cut the channel. The two ciclons were on his right and the enemy’s dust cloud followed. In-visor tactical displays and gut-instinct told him that there were only minutes before enemy would draw level with the fleeing ciclons; he needed to engage. He levelled his primary barrel toward the south as the Coursers accelerated. The armoured mounts moved with monstrous speed amongst Arabia Terra’s sculpted dunes. Mars is named in honour of the Roman war-god. The enemy moved into range, and as Markus took aim, war had come home.
Coursers are type of Single Battle Tank: a class of combat vehicle designed to counter heavier armour. Global armed forces shrank during the century’s second quarter and the big tanks were the first to go. But even obsolete weapons find willing buyers. Those tanks that weren’t dismantled or enshrined in museums were pressed into service by the rebel or militant that snapped them up first. As a result, the bulky moving fortresses enjoyed an unofficial renaissance in the few contested or ungovernable zones that remained on Earth. Single Battle Tanks are designed for speed and agility both in open battle and in the populated cities where most belligerents fought their wars. What they lack in armour, they compensate with pace and while they want in firepower, they account for with accuracy. Governments and security companies exploited them to ruinous effect against the older generation of tanks.
An adept SBT pilot is a weapon perfected, and Markus, a career mercenary, was the best. The platoon, picked by his own hand, found their targets and fired. The Coursers took the "weaver" formation – their paths twisting and overlapping as they fired at the enemy. These rovers weren’t tanks but they were armed and they returned fire, their bolts throwing up sand plumes as they thumped into the dunes. But they were too clumsy and the Coursers too swift – they had already lost. The leading rovers crumpled as the Courser bolts struck them. Those at the enemy’s rear pushed forward trying to bring their guns to into the fight, but they too came under fire when another Courser appeared behind them. Markus caught a glimpse of the newcomer – his first lieutenant had come to re-join his platoon. More bolts tore at the enemy line; Sparrow Three had dropped into firing range. The little airship fired repeatedly until its own weapon’s recoil pushed it out of firing position. iMicor’s force was in chaos; the skirmish and the chase were lost.
Markus opened the tactical channel. ‘Sparrow One, go.’
‘We have them, sir,’ said Sparrow One.
‘Sparrow Two,’ Markus said.
‘Pickup in two minutes.’
‘Dino,’ he said to the newcomer, ‘good of you to join us. Get everyone back to Cassini. I have a Sparrowhawk on your scouts.’
Lieutenant Alessandro fired a bolt that nearly skewered an iMicor rover. ‘Let me finish them off, sir.’
‘Get them back to Cassini like I fucking asked you,’ Markus said. The remaining rovers were retreating.
‘Sir,’ Dino said.
Markus waited for Sparrow Two to confirm that the scouts had been rescued. Sparrow One,’ he said. ‘Find an open channel to iMicor – tell them it’s pick up time.’
‘Sir,’ the pilot responded. Markus watched while reversing his Courser over sands shredded by wheels and gunfire. He had defeated the enemy within minutes. Their rovers preferred long ranges and small arms fire. They were hopelessly outclassed. The ruins of eight confirmed kills lay dunes ahead of him. A lone figure crawled from one of the wrecks and extended a hand up to the Sparrowhawk that still hung in the sky. Markus wondered how many more of their crews survived before wheeling about to follow his victorious platoon. The few iMicor vehicles that remained crept back onto the battlefield to collect their wounded and dead.
Cassini Crater, Arabia Quandrangle
Robert had grappled with and finally conquered the upward climb of Cygnus’ chain ladder. Now he found the downward leg to be a delightful anti-climax. Major Hameed had already slid nimbly down the ladder and waited on the platform. ‘You’ve impressed me,’ Hameed said when Robert’s boots had hit the solid surface.
‘Raise your standards,’ said Robert. ‘This is a war.’
‘It is a war,’ Hameed agreed. ‘And I’ve just heard that we’ve had our first skirmish.’
‘Sarah,’ said Robert.
Hameed nodded. ‘We have her now, she’s safe.’ said Hameed. ‘My people are bringing her here – and two others, if you’re interested. It seems I was correct: she did take the Sparrowhawk.’
‘I see,’ said Robert, ‘and I owe you thanks.’
‘You owe your gratitude to Grace Mitchell,’ said Hameed. ‘She would not have issued that order had it been anyone else.’
‘We value all of our employees and partners,’ said Robert. ‘Director General Mitchell would have given that order for anyone – not just for Sarah.’
‘If that were true, my best captain would be joining the assault on Naktong as we speak. And I wasn’t only speaking of Sarah.’ said Hameed. ‘You’ve married into a powerful family.’ Another guardsman dropped to the platform. He detached his safety line and hopped on a gangway that led to an adjacent platform. A network of these gangways connected all of the platforms on the airfield. Hameed gave a prompt salute and turned to follow the guardsman. ‘I’ll be speaking to you soon.’
The boarding platform offered an unending view of Cassini. The crater sprawled to the horizon on all sides. Cydonia Corporation’s second-largest city nestled in a smaller crater within the larger basin. Robert didn’t need a powerful family – he was intelligent, handsome and bold. If life was a perpetual conflict, he had an acute understanding of when to fight and which side to take. These traits, despite Robert’s limited education or connections, had advanced him in the corporation. Director General Mitchell soon discovered him and raised him from the ranks to serve as her deputy. Most who encountered him adored him while the others held for him a sardonic hatred. An elevator enclosed in a transparent tube led to the crater floor. Unmanned vehicles shuttled guardsmen and employees between the airfield and Cassini’s big dome. Notifications flooded his visor display, obscuring his vision as they jostled for his attention. He could dismiss most of them, but would be obliged to answer to some. The voyage had been three hours and he discovered to his surprise, the extent to which had enjoyed the solitary focus of running dark.
Naktong Vallis, Arabia Quadrangle
‘This was a shit storm in a teacup,’ said Lieutenant Barnsley. He reached to the turf and scooped up a rust-coloured, fist-sized boulder. ‘This is it.’ He double-stepped and hurled the rock across Naktong’s dry river bed. The missile soared in an exaggerated arc, an impossible throw for a human arm, like a child hurling a tennis ball across the length of a football field. The rock descended lazily, reluctant to return to its barren homeland, until it landed in a silent dusty puff in the river bed. Barnsley grunted. He had bet his captain that he could clear the river’s breadth in a single throw. So far, he was losing. ‘Next one,’ he said.
‘Why?’ asked Captain Markus Arundel.
‘Because I’m warmed up, sir,’ Barnsley replied.
Markus shook his head. ‘Why was this “a storm in a cup”, lieutenant?’
‘Look at it, sir,’ said Barnsley. ‘It’s worthless. No solid structures and they haven’t even started on the reactor. Was this asset worth risking my platoon? Was it worth you rushing here not five minutes after combat? They told us this was a city – it’s more like a slum.’ He picked up another rock and slung it across the shorter distance towards Cydonia’s newest settlement cradled in the riverbed’s centre. The site was a collection of dust-covered habitat pods and drill rigs. Guardsmen from Barnsley’s Second Platoon searched the empty pods. A small airship fleet clustered around a single docking platform. Barnsley’s stone struck the ground next to a guardsman that jogged towards the two officers.
‘Why did we start building here anyway?’ Barnsley asked. ‘We have the whole northern hemisphere.’
‘This is five degrees latitude,’ Markus replied. ‘That’s still north. A lion pisses on his territory’s boundary, not its centre.’
A chain ladder ran down the river’s wall to the sandy ground below. The guardsman came to a stop at the bottom of the ladder and saluted. ‘They’ve taken everything, sir,’ he said when the lieutenant had gestured him to ease, ‘personnel, food, water, hydrogen.’ Twin stripes riveted to his armour marked him as a sergeant.
‘And what of the Second Battalion boys?’ Barnsley asked.
‘Gone, sir,’ said the sergeant.
‘Carry on,’ Barnsley said as he found another rock. He wound up for another effort.
‘Would you stop that,’ Markus snapped, ‘you’ve already lost.’
‘What was it like, sir?’ Barnsley asked.
‘What was what like?’
‘Combat on Mars, what was it like?’ said Barnsley. ‘You and Dino are the first to go into battle on this planet. What was it like?’
‘You should know,’ said Markus, ‘or haven’t you been training? Anyway, that was a skirmish. They panicked.’
Barnsley shrugged. ‘You led the first armed engagement in the history of a planet, and you won. The other officers will be jealous, sir.’
Markus turned to gaze at the darkening sky beyond the small airfield. Another aircraft approached. ‘Not this officer,’ Markus said.
‘Major Ajido,’ said Barnsley, ‘she’ll be in fine spirits after losing her guardsmen.’
Markus nodded. ‘And I rather doubt our presence here will calm it.’
Bloody Second Battalion,’ said the lieutenant. ‘Sergeant,’ he called to his guardsman who had turned back to the camp. ‘Wrap up the search. We’re bedding in. Each fire team will take a watch. Set up a billet for the major.’ He turned to Markus, ‘I suppose the major will be taking the control pod.’ He meant the largest pod in the centre of the camp, the biggest shack in the slum. It was formed of five smaller pods attached by tunnels to a larger central structure. Markus had, until then, reserved it for himself.
Markus nodded. He stooped to the gravel floor and selected a boulder fragment of his own. He checked the distance before launching it with a grunt. The rock’s parabolic course spanned the bone-dry riverbed before descending to clip the opposite bank.
Barnsley’s shoulders deflated. ‘Insufferably good throw, sir,’ he said. ‘You win. Where shall I deliver the prize?’
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