Элизабет Мун - Into the Fire

“Colonel Bohannon? What’s happened?” came from above. She wasn’t sure of the voice.

“Stay back,” she said. “Don’t come this way; I’m armed and checking for more shooters.” They would know her voice. She heard someone’s shocked exclamation: “The Commandant!” but did not answer. She picked up Bohannon’s weapon, which turned out to be palm-locked to him. She took it anyway, and emerged at the top of the stairs to find Major Palnuss and Captain Ramos, standing well back and blocking the others’ approach to the stairs. Nobody had a weapon aimed at her, which proved only that they had good sense. Her gaze scanned the group: all the department chairs but Bohannon, the rest of the faculty, faces still expressing shock or concern.

“What happened?” Colonel Shin asked.

“Colonel Bohannon shot at me; I returned fire and killed him. I was hit, but my armor protected me.” She watched their reactions: shock, concern, and reasonably quick return to control.

“He said he was going to look for you—that he was worried you might have run into trouble.”

Ky didn’t say the obvious, that he had been the trouble. She needed them focused on the greater danger. “An enemy force has landed from two ships in the harbor, and is now beginning to move toward the government center. Those of you who’ve been specially briefed know what our plan is. For the rest, our orders have been modified by the Zodiac suffix; if you have not previously been briefed, remember that you are under the command of those who have. I’m assigning Major Palnuss to take over here, commanding the skeleton force to protect the youngest class; they have not yet had enough training to be of use in the field. As per the Orders, I will command the force that protects the government complex. Class advisers will stay with their classes.”

“But they’re not—”

“We have our orders,” Ky said. “Our more senior cadets are quite capable of doing what is required.” She looked at Palnuss. “Major, when the first-year class has arrived, you will take them to shelter and proceed to secure the Academy.”

“Yes, Commandant.”

She heard the clatter of boots in motion and turned to see the first cadets entering the Hall. As expected, these were the seniors, a half year away from graduation, lining up quickly in their usual formation.

“As other faculty arrive, Major Palnuss, you will check their credentials and—ah, Major Osinery—”

Osinery, white-faced, had come past Bohannon’s body on the way up the steps. “Commandant, there’s a bulletin—”

“I’m sure. You will take over as my communications aide. Record and relay as I tell you. Major Palnuss, on the basis of investigations so far, ensure that persons we have discussed do not have access to weapons.”

“Yes, Commandant.”

She turned to the cadets ranked below her. “The capital is under attack; you know from recent drills what is expected of you: obey all orders, hold your fire until ordered to shoot. These orders may vary from what you drilled on; we have received supplemental instructions. Do what you’re told and things should go well.” The fourth-years looked back at her with resolution. “Major Massoudian, take your class to the Armory now.”

“Yes, Commandant.”

“Third-years—” They had moved forward in order as the fourth-years left; the second-years were filling in behind them. “Major Leonidze will take you to the Armory next. Your class and the fourth-years are an essential part of this defensive plan. I expect you will do as well as they do—there’ll be a prize for the best class.” A few grins among them now, quickly smothered. Ky looked beyond them to the second-years. They certainly looked better than before. Her implant ticked. “Major Leonidze, take your class to the Armory.” He gave the order and she waited until they were gone. She imagined the progress of the enemy, the last of them just coming onto the decks of the ships that had delivered them, climbing into the armored cars, and starting off to the north, to the government complex.

“Second-years—” No grins here, but a sense of determination and unity the class had not had before. They wanted her approval now, wanted to succeed. “You will not be in the same action as the upper classes.” They didn’t like that; she could feel it. “You have a different assignment—because you have earned the right to it. You will be guarding important members of the government. You will be issued weapons and be transported to several different locations: Major Hemins will divide the class appropriately. You will be under the command of experienced combat veterans. We know there are criminal elements, allies of the conspirators seeking to take over the government. We know they will try to find and capture the President and other senior members of government. You must not let that happen.”

“Shots fired,” came a voice on the police channel. “Shots fired, police falling back as ordered.”

“Major Hemins, take your class to the Armory,” Ky said. She turned to the faculty, some of whom looked much less steady than others. “Major D’Albini, take your class to the bunker. Those whose names I call will report to Major Palnuss in the basement, with the first-years. You can assist there.” She read the list, skipping over Colonel Bohannon, and sent them on their way. “The rest of you received the supplementary orders; you know your assignments and your resources. Those with me—let’s go.”

Outside, the snow fell more heavily; lights glowed through the falling snow, but visibility was limited. Another ping of her skullphone, this time from General Molosay’s staff at the base. “Air strike here; your guys IDed a ground force on the way—we’re ready. Good luck to you.”

“Going now,” Ky said. Her combat helmet gave her its interpretation of what she looked at, mixing multiple bands to provide a faux-sharp image that wiggled uneasily as thicker and thinner strands of snow crossed it. Another screen gave her a view from one of the drones poised above the government complex: looking down through falling snow dizzied her for a moment. The former gardens now looked like textbook earthworks, as they should, with rows of hot dots on the infrared view that the oncoming troops should assume were cadets.

“Commandant? We’re ready.” The command transport had pulled up beside her.

“Right.” Ky accepted a hand up the step and into an interior that reminded her a little of the ships she’d commanded: the glowing screens, the banks of instruments. Osinery followed her, looking nervous, the light on her recorder blinking. Once inside, Ky had a view of the two columns of personnel carriers ahead of them. One had already split off to the north. The other moved east.

“We’re on the tick,” said a familiar voice; she looked over and saw Corporal Inyatta grinning at her. “Column one is almost to the north end, well ahead of the attackers.” Seven of the survivors had argued their way onto this op, including the first three to escape plus Staff Sergeant Gossin, Sergeant Cosper, Corporal Lakhani, and Corporal Yamini.

Ky switched channels and contacted Neese, the northern base. “Cattle entering processing. Light the fires.”

She could hear nothing over the sound of the vehicle she was in, but imagined the big drones starting engines, the low whoomp-rumble rising to a high whine. Snow should muffle the sound; she hoped it would be enough.

“First enemy troops past the Defense HQ… President’s Guard and police opening sporadic fire.” Just enough to convince the enemy the defenders were there, but confused. Ahead of her command car, personnel carriers full of third-year cadets, and troops borrowed from the base moved out. At the head of each line was a squad of combat engineers with the armored earthmovers they’d used to rearrange the formal gardens into something resembling military earthworks. “Twenty percent past Defense HQ, coming up on Government House. Permission to launch—”