Torchship (16 page)

“It’d serve you right if I did leave you alone with her.
Three minutes later you’d be asleep and she’d be strangling you.”

Mitchie decided she liked the second part of that. The rest
was bad for her either way. Hopefully they’d keep arguing until someone sane
woke up and put a stop to it. Assuming there was someone sane in this camp. Her
favorite fictional hero would be interjecting comments to egg them on. She didn’t
have anything witty to contribute. If she did say something it would likely
just get her a boot in the ribs or worse. Probably worse. Mitchie focused on
lying still and being uninteresting.

Besides, these guys would probably go until dawn without
help. The argument had circled around to personal failings again. “If you had
the sense to say please and thank you sometimes you might get some without
paying for it. Or committing a felony.”

“What’s a felony? There’s no law here. We caught her, we can
do what we want.”

“Actions have consequences, you fucking idiot.”

The younger goon stood with his head pressed against the
tent roof, trying to compose a rebuttal. Then Mitchie heard a WHACK. She
twisted around in time to see him drop to his knees, then plant his face on the
floor. A small splotch of blood marked where his head had been. The other one
unslung his weapon and ducked out the tent flap. He hadn’t gotten all the way
through when more whacks sounded and his limp body was shoved back in.

Guo came in waving a bloody hammer. His intent expression
changed to relief when he met Mitchie’s eyes. She twisted onto her belly to
hold up her bound hands. Instead of cutting her loose he grabbed the ankle ties
and hauled her out of the tent. A quick glance around revealed no watchers. He
flung her over his shoulder and started moving.

Mitchie clamped her jaw tightly shut. Vomiting on her
rescuer was a poor way to thank him. Between his shoulder pressing into her belly
and her aching head being shaken about it might happen anyway. When they passed
around the curve of the hill she looked up to check for movement. “No one’s
following us. Please, can we stop? Stop!”

Guo staggered to a halt. He paused to steady himself before
lowering Mitchie down. “’Kay. How bad are you hurt?”

“Head’s sore. Hands and feet are going numb. Can you cut the
ties? I’m scared I’m going to lose them if I don’t get circulation back soon.”

“Okay.” He checked his tool belt. “Um, if I put them against
a rock I can probably break it with the hammer.”

“You don’t have a knife?”

“No.”

“You went on a
combat mission
and didn’t bring a
knife
?”

“The hammer
worked
.”

Mitchie sighed. “Check my left sleeve.”

He poked at the sheath. “Empty.”

“Right boot.”

“Nope.”

“Crap.” She rolled onto her back. “Okay, there’s a small
knife in my underwear. I’m pretty sure it’s still there.”

“Um . . .”

“Don’t waste time.” Guo tentatively pulled her shirt out and
poked into her waistband. “Ow! Unzip them first, dammit.”

“Sorry.”

“Try to not enjoy this too much.”

“I’m just enjoying it the appropriate—ouch! Shit. You could’ve
warned me.”

“I said
knife
.” She bit back more comments as he
sucked on the cut. Fortunately for her temper he didn’t take too long before
cutting the tie between her wrists. Her shoulders screamed as blood flowed back
into muscles which had been squeezed tight for hours. When she stopped waving
her arms around Guo grabbed one and cut the tie off her wrist. Circulation in
her hand came back painfully. She stifled whimpers as he sawed at the other
wrist.

By the time he had her feet freed the pain had subsided. Her
workboots had saved her feet so she could actually stand on her own. Well,
stand leaning on a tree. She fumbled with the fastenings but finally managed to
get her pants closed back up again.

“Right, let’s go.” Guo grabbed Mitchie’s hand and headed
south. Once they got down on the flat she’d recovered enough to run without his
help. Only one of the floaters was still there. Captain Schwartzenberger leaned
against it as he waited for them.

“Nice to see you two again. Pilot, are you going to be fit
for duty?”

“Uh, yessir. Could use a day off, sir,” she answered. Guo
confined his greetings to a nod.

“So your radio got quiet suddenly. Can I assume that’s when
you arrived, Guo?” Another nod. “Did you kill those evil thugs or just knock
them out?”

“I, uh, didn’t check, sir.”

“Really. In a big hurry, were you?”

“Didn’t know when someone else would come along.”

Schwartzenberger turned his gaze to Mitchie. She’d gotten a
good look at the head injuries while being dragged over the bodies. “They, they
probably won’t live long,” she reported.

“Well, I won’t miss them,” said the captain. “Max probably
will since he hired them. Though I think Max will most care that someone
waltzed into his camp, killed two of his men, and left without a message. Which
makes the two dead bodies the message.”

He paused to see if either crewman wanted to say something.
They stayed silent.

“You two arrogant, impulsive idiots just declared war on a
group that outnumbers us, outguns us, and, oh yes, has a leader who’s killed
people before. There’s no Navy here to bail us out this time. We’ve got to work
together if any of us are going to have a chance to survive this. So try to not
fuck the rest of us over any worse than you already have.” The captain let
silence stretch out after that for a painfully long time. Neither said
anything. “Get in the floater.” Schwartzenberger climbed in beside Jisi and
they headed back to the dome.

***

The terraformers’ dome wasn’t a bad place for a siege. The
thick earthen shell was meant to keep out the stifling heat but would stand up
to most bullets. The supplies and water recycling were good for at least a
couple of months. The doors and windows were small enough to block easily. With
good enough weapons and training a garrison could hold out indefinitely.

The actual arsenal was five pistols, a broken hunting rifle,
and three dart guns. Schwartzenberger contemplated the available military
experience—Bing’s three year tour as a medic—and decided to just improvise. He
sent Guo to join Billy and Roark on the rifle project. The rest were working on
blocking the doors.

Yukio objected to gluing a workbench against one door. “We’re
going to need a chisel to get this open again.”

“Beats being dead,” replied Schwartzenberger.

Roark yelled, “We’re testing the gun!” down the stairs.
Mitchie slapped her hands over her ears. The rest followed her example. Three
shots rang out. Not that bad downstairs. Mitchie thought the guys working on
the rifle were probably deafened. A couple of minutes later they heard more
shots.

“I wonder how much of our ammo they’ll need to get it calibrated,”
muttered the captain.

A dozen shots later the three came downstairs to show off
their results. The scope was a hastily-modified spotting telescope. The trigger
linkage looked likely to break the moment it bumped into something. “It’s not
perfect,” said Billy, “but all I need is one good hit.”

“It’ll do,” said Schwartzenberger. “Set up a couple of
firing positions at each of the upstairs windows. Keep as far back as you can.
Everybody else, let’s finish getting this place sealed up.”

Once the downstairs windows were sealed the captain sent the
more tired troops for a nap. Mitchie found herself in the room of one of the
dead terraformers. She was too exhausted to even look at what was on the
shelves. The luxury of a private shower did keep her awake for a few minutes.
She collapsed into the bed still wet.

***

Mitchie leapt out of bed and stood straight up on the rug,
not even knowing what woke her. Then a few more gunshots sounded. She grabbed
her clothes out of the cleaning bin.
Got to get into the action
. By the
time she had her shirt on this became
Got to get some more pain meds from
Bing
. The pain was worst on her cheekbone but she hurt all over. Even her
calves complained about the running she’d been doing after all that time on the
pilot couch.

Billy was in the genetics lab. He flashed an excited grin as
she came in. “Missed Max, winged the driver instead. Should’ve seen him take
off running.” The room was hazy with dust. The windows had craters scattered
around them, places where an SMG bullet hitting the dome had spalled off
material from the inside. Asking for Bing got a thumb pointed clockwise before
Billy scooted to his next firing position.

Another lab had been turned into Bing’s first aid ward. Jisi
was lying in the corner. Her belly had a bloody bandage on it. When Mitchie
came in Bing snapped, “I’m saying this to everyone. Stay away from the damn
windows.” Then she chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” asked the pilot.

“Girl, wrap a towel around your head if you’re going to bed
with your hair wet.”

“We’re getting shot at and you’re worrying about hair?”

“Just taking my laughs where I can get them. Here.” The mate
handed over a pair of pain relievers. Mitchie swallowed them dry. “This bag has
your next dose. The blue ones are stimulants. Take them at least an hour apart
and not unless you really need them.”

“Thanks.”

“Stay low.”

“I always do.” Mitchie went to find the captain. He was
covered in brown dust. Max had given up on finding targets in the windows. When
Billy fired at him the return shot was aimed for where someone would go for
cover. The custom rifle and its high-tech ammo could pierce the dome and a
couple of interior walls. So far the wall material had caused more discomfort
than the bullets.

Schwartzenberger put Mitchie on patrolling the lower floor. “They
sent a few guys in on foot. They might try to break in.”

Yukio was already downstairs. She held Billy’s pistol in a
nervous grip. “Hi, Mi—uh?” She broke off her greeting as Mitchie grabbed her
arm.

“Just point it at the bad guys, okay?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” The terraformer self-consciously pointed
the pistol straight down.

“Let’s circle opposite directions. We’ll get better coverage
that way.”
And I can duck when I see you coming.

“All right,” said Yukio. They moved off.

The windows and doors looked undisturbed. Mitchie tried to
follow the progress of the battle by the sound of shots. Max’s thugs had plenty
of ammo. Bursts of automatic fire followed each of Billy’s shots. Probably just
trying to keep everyone away from the windows. The deeper sound of a rifle
bullet smashing through the wall stood out. Max focused on Billy, taking two or
three shots each time the deckhand revealed his position.

In one lab she caught a reflection of herself in a glass
cabinet.
Bing’s right. Looks like a peacock
. She resolved to shower
again as soon as the battle was over.

She smelled the attack before she saw anything. She forced
her sore legs into a jog to find the source. The fourth window she checked had
a corner of the cover forced open and a tube pouring out some fluid. She aimed
a handwidth above it and fired as fast as she could. A yell and string of
curses came from outside as the tube disappeared. Mitchie dropped flat as SMG
bullets zipped past her head. She started to crawl behind a workbench.
Something stung her in the back. She heard shouts from outside.

“Light it!”

“Fuck you!”

“Light it or I’ll finish you myself!”

More curses. Then a burning branch poked through the hole in
the window. Mitchie fired a couple of wild shots. The branch fell. Flames leapt
up from the puddle of fuel. She crawled toward the door, making it just as the
ceiling began spraying foam.

Yukio ran up. “What happened?”

Mitchie rolled away from her gun muzzle. “Bastards tried to
burn us out.”

“You’re bleeding!”

“Crap. Keep patrolling while I go see Bing.” Mitchie took a
deep breath. No need to cough. So it hadn’t penetrated her lung at least. She
went upstairs. Captain Schwartzenberger was checking on the wounded. Jisi hadn’t
moved. Billy had taken a bullet in the leg. The captain had a bandage on his
head but clearly didn’t consider himself a patient.

“What do you need?” asked Bing.

“Yukio says I’m bleeding,” answered Mitchie as she turned
around.

“Yep, you are. Not much though.”

“Ow!”

“And it didn’t even crack the rib. Ricochet. Maybe a
two-cushion shot even.” She started applying antiseptic and bandage.

“How’d you get that?” asked Schwartzenberger.

Mitchie gave him a crisp report ending with “I hope I winged
the arsonist. Might’ve just scared him.”

“No, you got him. We saw a couple of guys running out. One
had a bloody shirt.”

“Good. How’s the leg, Billy?”

“Could be better. But, hey, chicks dig scars, right?” The
deckhand still had his grin.

“Some do. Want me back on patrol, sir?”

“Yes. But upstairs this time. Take some shots if you get the
chance. We need to discourage them more.”

“Aye-aye.” Taking pistol shots from the windows sounded like
a good way to get killed but she didn’t want to argue.

Mitchie found a shady spot in a lab to observe from. Max’s
position was one car being used as cover with a few dead animals piled up to
provide more shelter. Some scattered dirt showed someone had tried to dig a
foxhole and given up.

They were a couple of hundred meters away. Mitchie’s pistol
could throw bullets much farther than that. She’d never tried to hit a target
at even a quarter of that distance before.
This is just for drawing their
fire.
She fired a shot, dropped flat, and crawled out of the room. Bits of
debris fell on her as bullets chewed up the interior walls.
It’s working
.
She froze as a rifle bullet passed over her head, trailing a cloud of dirt.