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John Ringo: Vorpal Blade

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John Ringo Vorpal Blade

Vorpal Blade: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The sequel to . William Weaver, PhD. and SEAL Chief Adams are back and Bill got himself a ship! The former SSBN has been converted, using mostly garage mechanics and baling wire, into a warp ship ready to go “out there.” But as everyone knows, the people who really are going to bear the brunt are the poor Security guys, Force Recon Marines who are kept in the dark and fed manure all day. That is until they land on an alien planet, get partially wiped out and then load back up again. Ranging in topics from the best gun to kill armored space monsters to particle physics to cosmology to health and beauty tips, is a return to the “good old days” of SF when the science problems were intractable and the beasts were ugly. The monkeys are out in the space lanes and ready to rock. As soon as they get another roll of duct tape.

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Some of the money they earned they gave to the Wilsons in thanks for taking care of Mimi. Most of it, however, was spent on books or put in the bank. At this point, Mimi had a bank account that would have made any accountant smile. The time had come, though, to spend some of it.

Which was why Mimi, wearing a light blue dress and dress shoes, was sitting on her bed with her hands clasped in her lap, looking out the window and lightly tapping her thumbs together. At her feet was a packed suitcase.

Tuffy had changed over the years. Actually, most of the changes had occurred quite recently. His once stubby limbs had increased in length and now had definite little claws that glittered a silvery purple. His fur had also darkened to almost midnight black that flashed purple in the right light. In addition, he had developed eyes or eyespots that were a bright emerald green. Around the eyespots were patches of purple fur, sometimes blue, that were narrow and curved.

The changes had baffled most of the researchers who were trying to study him until one of them, a female, had pointed out that Tuffy now looked, “well, cool.” When Tuffy had first appeared, and for many years thereafter, Mimi had needed comfort. She was a child and needed a teddy bear, or spider in this case, to hug and keep away the nightmares.

Puberty had changed that. Mimi had suffered few of the extreme mood swings of that period in life, but she had changed, nonetheless. She had “put away childish things” and in keeping with that, perhaps, Tuffy had morphed to be more of what a young teenager, recently a child but now exploring the world of adulthood, needed, somebody cool and Tuff looking.

Or he might just be aging. Nobody really knew. Except Tuffy and, maybe, Mimi, and they weren’t talking.

“Okay, okay,” Mimi said with an exasperated sigh.

She got up and walked into the living room where Mrs. Wilson was vacuuming with the TV on in the background.

“Aunt Vera,” Mimi said over the sound of the vacuum.

“Mimi,” Vera said, shutting off the machine. Vera Wilson was a heavyset woman in her forties, currently wearing a muumuu since the Wilsons kept the thermostat high to save energy. “You’re dressed nice for school.”

“I’m not going,” Mimi said. “Tuffy has told me I have to go visit someone. Today.”

“You’re… what?” Vera Wilson asked, confused. Since taking Mimi in she had found her to be a very biddable and charming young lady, the daughter she’d never had. Mimi had never asked to skip school and had certainly never back talked or said anything this… strange. “What do you mean you’re not going to school?”

“Tuffy has something that I need to do,” Mimi said, calmly but definitely. “I need to go visit someone and then… well, I’ll probably be gone for a while. But there will be adults who will talk to you about it. But I have to leave now, this morning; we have a transfer from the gateport at ten. And there’s a taxi on the way.”

“Young lady, you can’t just walk out of this house…” Vera Wilson started to respond angrily.

“I don’t want to make you mad, Aunt Vera,” Mimi continued calmly. “But I really need to go. I’m not running away. Some adults will come explain, I’m sure, but I’m not sure what I can say to you about it. You remember when Dr. Weaver came to visit that one time and he said it was ‘confidential.’ It’s secret like that.”

“Well, if the government wants you to go, why didn’t they tell me?” Mrs. Wilson asked, confused.

“They don’t know I have to go,” Mimi said. “But Tuffy says that if I don’t, it’s not going to work.”

“What’s not going to work?” Mrs. Wilson said, totally out of her depth.

“The thing I can’t talk about,” Mimi said as the taxi honked its horn. “That’s my ride. I’ve gotta go. I’ll write and I’ll probably be back, maybe soon for a week or so, if you’ll let me come back. But it’s time for me to do the things I’m supposed to do. I think, it’s sort of like being called by God, Auntie Vera. I have a calling. And the first place it will take me is San Diego.”

Aunt Vera looked at the cool looking spider thing on Mimi’s shoulder and sighed. She’d had a very confusing, but interesting, conversation with Dr. Weaver at one point when he visited Mimi to thank her for her help. After that she’d had to wonder: Do angels always appear in a cloud of light? Or, as Dr. Weaver had pointed out, “Well, we got the big light. And the city was certainly smited or smitten or whatever… I don’t know exactly what Tuffy is, but from what I went through, an angel in heavy disguise is a pretty good description.”

But God sure worked in mysterious ways. You just had to have the patience of Job and trust that it would all come out right.

“You write, you hear?” Aunt Vera said, tearing up. She and Herman had never been able to have children and Mimi had been, in a way, a gift from God. Now, it seemed, the time was come to lose the gift. She’d thought they’d have more years. She hugged the girl to her and sniffled. “I got the hang of that e-mail thing. You be sending me e-mails, you hear, girl? And come home when you got a chance. This is always home.”

“I will,” Mimi said, sniffling herself. “But where I’m going, well, I don’t think there’s e-mail.”

2

Welcome to the Space Marines, Please Keep Your Hands and Feet Away From the Monsters

Private First Class Eric Bergstresser parked his Jeep outside headquarters and got out, stretching his back.

Berg’s first intimation he was being transferred had been the previous day when his team NCOIC, a staff sergeant, had dragged him out of morning PT and told him to “get his ass up to battalion.” Upon reaching the battalion headquarters he had been put through “the one fastest post-clearance in history” according to the gunnery sergeant from S-3 who had walked the private through, then handed him orders to proceed, via personal automobile, to Bravo Company, Marine Corps Force Reconnaissance, which was based, oddly enough, at Newport News Naval Base.

Berg hadn’t even known there were any Marines at Newport News which, as far as he knew, was still in the process of closure. He was more than surprised to find out there was a Force Recon company there.

Berg was a “Nugget,” a NUG, the “new guy” in the battalion. He had volunteered immediately upon reaching the 1st Marine Division, his initial duty station after Basic. After taking the initial entry tests, mental and physical, he’d gone through the short hell of Recon In Process and the much longer hell of Force Recon Operator Training. After the Dreen War, Force Recon qualification had been revamped to concentrate more and more on off-planet operations. It also had gotten harder to qualify; of the sixty volunteers in the class with Berg, he had been one of only four to pass the full course. While not quite as hard as Delta qualification and training, it was equivalent to or surpassed SEAL BUD/S. At least in sheer brutality.

Berg wasn’t sure what was happening to the Corps he had wanted to join for so long, but he was seeing changes that were interesting. Unlike most troops, he paid a lot of attention to things like the budget fights in Congress and current events. And in the former, especially, there were some odd things happening. After the Dreen War, and the closing of the various gates that had permitted the Dreen to invade Earth, most of the forces had suffered serious cutbacks. The still unexplained breakouts of Dreen infestations in several Islamic countries had taken most of the starch out of the Great Jihad and while U.S. troops were still deployed around the world, mostly they were back to peace enforcement or peace keeping missions; the War on Terror had died along with several hundred thousand jihadists in the Bekaa Valley, Mecca and Iran.

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