Diane Duane - X-COM - UFO Defense

OK, Jonelle thought. Two can play at that game. She forced the suit to leap back away from the cliff again, and swung herself around in midair, so that the Chryssalid was toward the wall of stone. Then she launched herself at the cliff, full force.

Some time before, back in the States, Jonelle had gone with some friends from the Washington base to a crab joint near the Inner Harbor in Baltimore. There they were all issued wooden mallets and shown to a large table covered with newspaper, where, as soon as they were seated, many large, steamed crabs were unceremoniously dumped in front of them. The sound the mallets made when cracking the crabs open was very like the sound Jonelle heard now, except that this was considerably louder, and the crabs in Baltimore hadn’t screamed. Stones fell down from the cliff, and the Chryssalid shrieked and fell away from her. As it fell, laser fire lanced out from one of the teams preparing to board the Lightning. The pieces caught fire as they came down, and lay there in the snow, hissing, burning, until more blowing snow put the fire out.

Jonelle landed, breathing hard, more from the shock than anything else. Two of the squaddies hurried over to her with the sergeant. “Are you all right, Commander?”

“I’m OK,” she said. “Let’s get ourselves stowed. I’m going in to make that call.”

Jonelle made her way back to the cockpit of the Lightning and looked out as her people got ready to be boarded. She hit the comrns control for a connection to Irhil M’Goun. “Dispatch—”

“Yes ma’am, Commander.”

She looked out the cockpit window at the early, early primrose-colored light of dawn, creeping into the eastern sky. “We’ve taken down that large Scout,” she said, “about fifteen kilometers southwest of St. Moritz. We’ll need a strip team. What’s the condition down there?”

“We’re secure down here, Commander. No damage.”

“Other intercepts?”

“One successful, one failed.”

“What failed?”

“A Harvester came through on the same trajectory as your Scout, Commander. There was nothing to send after it but an Interceptor, and it lost that.”

“Where did it go?”

“Lost, Commander. We haven’t a clue. Sorry. “

“Wonderful,” Jonelle said, more to herself than anyone else. “Wonderful. All right, Dispatch, we’ll be back in Andermatt shortly. Tell Commander DeLonghi I’d appreciate a call.”

And she hit the comms button to close down the line, and began, softly, and with some virtuosity, to swear.

It took Jonelle the better part of the day to get post-sortie matters sorted out at Andermatt. Though the facility had been ready enough to have flight crews move in, she hadn’t seriously thought that sorties would have to start so quickly—at least, she’d hoped they wouldn’t have to, but that hope was clearly gone. The aliens know something’s going on in this area, she thought. I’ve got to do everything I can to keep them from finding out what it is, especially until that mind shield gets in.

Once back on site, Jonelle got on the comms network and on the phone, and began hounding people—mostly about the mind shield, but also about more transfer troops to replace the people most recently injured or killed, and about quickly disposing of the various marketable alien materials they had acquired this morning. Irhil, as well, had had a couple of successful interceptions—a medium Scout and an Abductor—which put the base over its break -even point for that months finances and left it with a surprising amount of spare cash. Jonelle was glad about that, for she intended to take most of it for Andermatt. She was gladder still that there had been no deaths during those interceptions and only a few injuries, none of them very serious. Either Joe’s finally settling in, she thought, or else Ari read him the riot act forcejully enough that he took it to heart, and the results are showing already. A little early to know which, yet, but we’ll see….

She sat awhile with her calculator, totaling up the funds available to her and considering her options. It was now more likely that Andermatt would be attacked, since an attack had been launched from it. Not a whole lot more likely—but the threat is significant. She had already budgeted for the simplest level of defense, missile defenses, and those were in the process of going in. They would be ready next week, but they weren’t as effective as Jonelle would like. Fortunately, the site itself was not terribly amenable to anyone landing there, alien or otherwise. Chastelhorn Mountain was one of the most nearly vertical-sided peaks Jonelle had seen hereabouts. However, that would not stop aliens attacking it while in flight. Plasma-weapon defenses would be better, but they cost a lot more, and Jonelle had just spent so much on the mind shield, which wasn’t going to be ready for a month and a bit anyway.

She sighed. The missile defenses would have to do for the time being. There was also workshop space to be thinking about, and a new psi lab for Andermatt….

I hate this, Jonelle thought. Here we are saving the goddamn Earth every other day, and nevertheless we have to drive ourselves crazy pinching pennies and skimping on equipment we need so that we can buy other equipment we need…. It’s disgusting. We should have carte blanche, if we’re supposed to function properly! I can just see it: about two centuries from now, some friendly alien species comes through here and finds our present bunch in residence, and when the new guys ask the invaders what happened to the original species, they’ll say, “Oh, they died of insufficient cash flow.”

The commlink warbled at her. She slapped it, probably harder than necessary, and said, “Yeah, what?”

“Irhil comms, Commander,” said her secretary Joel’s voice. “Got your noon report.”

Oh God, is it that time already? I’ve got to eat something before I fall over. “Talk to me,” she said.

“Commander DeLonghis compliments, but he can’t make his own daily report until three. He’s down putting the boot in on some craft repairs.”

“That’s all right. What else?”

“Got someone down in the infirmary asking for you.”

“Joel!!”

“Says he wants to lodge a complaint, actually. Something about the quality of the food, or lack of it rather.”

“How long has he been conscious?”

“About two hours, it seems. Doc didn’t inform anybody until about half an hour ago. He wanted to run some diagnostics, he said, and didn’t want the whole planet stampeding in there to see him.”

“The doctor,” Jonelle said, getting up hurriedly and getting into her uniform jacket, “is going to get yelled at for not calling me first. You tell him so.”

“Yes, ma’am.“Joel’s voice was amused. “I think he was expecting it.”

“It’s good to have staff who’re prepared,” Jonelle said, and slapped the comms control to shut it down. Then she headed down the hall to see how the second-level hangars were coming along—and to hitch a ride with the next Skyranger heading down to Irhil M’Goun.

She heard his voice long before she saw him. It sounded somewhat cracked and rusty not much like the usual mellow rumble, and Jonelle paused just inside the infirmary’s office door to listen for a second before making her way back to the bed wing.

“What total crap. You’re just doing this to make me miserable.”

“I’m doing this,” said Gyorgi’s patient voice, “because it is seriously unwise to overstress the digestive system of someone who’s just had a skull trauma. I could explain the whole etiology of the problem to you, using short words and big color pictures, but I don’t have time. Let’s just say I have no desire to see you blow a blood vessel tonight, my evening off I might add, because I indulged your pathetic whining for chili. You can have chili in a couple of days. Right now, you drink the goddamn milkshake, or I’ll dump it in your lap.”