Vaughn Heppner - Star Fortress

“Look at the next one,” Nadia said, with an odd note in her voice.

Marten touched the screen, and his eyes widened. “Ah Chen,” he said.

“So you do know her,” Nadia said.

“What?”

“The caption says it’s your girlfriend.”

Marten looked up, seeing Nadia glaring at him. He began to read the report. The police had picked up Ah Chen in Russia Sector. She had made it halfway across the Eurasian continent. At first, the police believed her to be a Highborn spy, as she had come from Sydney, which was in occupied territory. Under interrogation, she admitted that she searched for Marten Kluge, the Jovian Representative.

“Why is she looking for you?” Nadia asked.

“I have no idea,” Marten said, puzzled and bemused.

Nadia folded her arms, her features hardening.

Marten knew the trouble signs, but he kept reading. Ah Chen had been transported to Italia Sector, joining Omi in detainment. Their execution had been set for tomorrow. During the fighting in the Po Valley, however, Omi had made his escape, taking Ah Chen with him. Now the two fugitives were on the run. Any person with information was to report it to the authorities. The last known whereabouts of the two was near the outskirts of Venice.

Marten checked. Venice was one of the few places in Italia Sector that had declared for Cone. That’s probably why Omi had been running for it. The Security Specialist had sent several vessels there, unloading troops to help in the attack in the Po Valley.

“We have to change course,” Marten said.

“So we can pick up your girlfriend?” Nadia asked.

“I helped her once,” Marten said. “She doesn’t mean anything to me now.”

“Then why did she cross half of Eurasia looking for you?”

“That’s a good question.”

“She’s beautiful,” Nadia said.

“Omi is on the run,” Marten said. “We have to go back for him.”

Osadar had been listening to the exchange. She now swiveled around. “We may not reach Geneva in time if we do.”

Marten read the reader, seeing what else the article had to say. He began shaking his head. “If we don’t help our friends, we’re useless. We’re heading for Venice.”

“It’s a possible hot zone,” Osadar said.

“There is fighting near Milan. But I don’t think it has reached Venice yet.”

“This is a risk,” Osadar said.

“What do you want me to do?” Marten asked, looking from Osadar to Nadia. “We stick together or we’re no good. Force-Leader Yakov taught us that.”

Nadia frowned, but she began to nod. “We have to go back for Omi.”

Osadar threw up her hands. “I cannot counsel you on this. You know my thinking.” She turned to her computer.

Marten picked up his com-unit and began to issue orders.

It was anti-climactic in one sense. They didn’t run a gauntlet for Omi. They spoke no lies and forewent trading shots and shells with police units or Army battalions that had declared for Director Backus.

Three hours after changing course, Nadia received a radio signal from Cone. She informed Marten.

He straightened his uniform and found a cap, fitting it over his head. Then he turned on his screen.

“Hello, Security Specialist,” Marten said.

Cone wore her sunglasses but her skin looked slack. There was an old-fashioned bookshelf behind her. With a start, Marten realized it was Hawthorne’s old quarters. The Supreme Commander had given recorded talks from the room. Maybe Cone thought it would give her authenticity if people saw her there.

“I am Vice-Chairman Cone,” she said, “the acting representative of Supreme Commander Hawthorne.”

“An interesting choice,” Osadar said quietly.

“Congratulations,” Marten told Cone. “Does this mean Hawthorne is alive and is broadcasting from the battleships?”

Cone gave the smallest of head-twitches, which could have meant anything. “I’m sure you are aware of the fighting between the illegal police units and the military backing me.”

“Sure,” Marten said.

“Force-Leader Kluge, while I appreciate all you’ve done, you have become too…politically charged to remain on Earth. I’m afraid I will have to insist that you depart the planet.”

“Let’s not play games,” Marten said. “You’re fighting for control of Earth and Director Backus is challenging you.”

“He has been illegally elected, as Supreme Commander Hawthorne still governs Social Unity.”

Marten knew Hawthorne had written a resignation, but it looked like Cone had decided to ignore that. This woman thought fast on her feet. If the people wouldn’t accept her, maybe they would accept a deputy acting in Hawthorne’s name.

“You don’t have to convince me,” Marten said. “I’m with you. I don’t forget the people who helped me.”

“I’d rather not speak about that,” Cone said. “This communication may be monitored.” Cone pursed her mouth before she said, “You must immediately head for Geneva and leave Earth.”

“I’ll do that as soon as I pick up Omi.”

“There is no—” Cone glanced to her left off-screen and listened as someone spoke. She faced the screen again. “My people have contacted your friend. Actually, it appears he raced into one of their encampments in the company of a woman.” Scowling, Cone glanced left again as someone spoke urgently. “What? Oh, I see.” Cone faced Marten. “The woman is a Highborn spy.”

“I doubt that,” Marten said. “Her name is Ah Chen. I saved her life once in Sydney during the initial Highborn invasion.”

“I see,” Cone said. “You lead an interesting life, Force-Leader.”

“If you give me my two friends,” Marten said, “I’ll be on my way and headed for Neptune.”

Cone nodded. “The faster you leave Earth, the better. I hope you will not hold this against us.”

“Not at all,” Marten said. “Where are they?”

Cone gave him the coordinates, adding, “You’d better hurry. The fleet begins acceleration in several days.”

As Cone signed off, Marten wondered why the little engineer had come hunting for him. It seemed strange, not at all like her.

The answer came an hour and forty-seven minutes later. The lifters halted at the defensive perimeter of a tank brigade. The lifters touched down beside a wall of sandbags, with skeleton trees on the hill behind the perimeter. He noticed there weren’t any bio-tanks, but low-built vehicles with monstrous cannons.

Marten climbed down the lifter and spoke with the brigadier, a youngish man in a black uniform and low-billed cap slung low over his eyes. Soon, Omi and Ah Chen stepped out of a bunker, escorted by grim-eyed soldiers with machine guns.

“Didn’t think I’d see you anytime soon,” Marten said, fiercely gripping Omi’s hand.

Omi nodded as if nothing mattered, although he gripped Marten on the shoulder, squeezing painfully.

“Are you ready for our last run against the cyborgs?” asked Marten.

Omi gave him a blank look, one he had perfected long ago in the slums of Sydney. Then he jerked his thumb at Ah Chen. “Remember her?”

She looked small and demure, if a little older than Marten recalled. There were wrinkles at the corners of her eyes that hadn’t been there several years ago. She stared at him, and she seemed burdened. He remembered seeing her naked as he decapitated Major Orlov of PHC hundreds of kilometers underground of Sydney.

“Is anything wrong?” Marten asked.

She shook her head and sidled closer to Omi, putting a hand on his biceps.

Marten raised an eyebrow. He hoped that meant what he thought it did. It would go a long way toward keeping Nadia happy.