JEFFREY THOMAS - DEADSTOCK

"Why?"

"I had to obey her. She is higher in rank."

"No, I mean, why didn't she kill my men when she had the chance?"

"Why? Because she is a woman." He snorted. "She was strong when she was killing you from a distance, but she became soft when she was close enough to smell your tears."

Stake looked away then, as if he could see the Earth Killer through the walls that separated them. "She showed my men mercy, because they were defenseless just then. And because their loss touched her," he said. "That makes her human, not weak."

"Human, like you? She is fighting to keep our nation whole! She is fighting against demons that step into our world out of the air, from some hell we can not see! She kills your officers and soldiers, and then spares the men who weep over those same dead men? She is a traitor. And someday I will be back with my own people, whether it takes me a year or ten years. And I will report her to my superiors as the traitor she is!"

Stake lunged forward then, and stood over the boy, and pointed the sidearm he had ripped out of its holster. Pointed it down at the surprised hole where those bright teeth had been gleaming seconds earlier. "Who's soft now, huh? You'll be smelling your own tears in a minute. Probably your piss, too."

"Sir," Henderson said.

"Don't," the young man blubbered, shielding his face ineffectively with one hand.

Stake backed off slowly, and returned his jungle-blue pistol to its holster. "You owe that woman your ass, punk, whether you want to admit it or not." He turned to leave the room. "Come on, Henderson."

Returning to the Earth Killer's cell, Stake found its door standing wide open. The room was empty. For a moment, his eyes went wild, but one of his men close by told him that Privates Martin and Devereux had taken the woman to clean herself up. Stake himself had given his people orders to allow her this. He headed toward the single large room where the monks cared for themselves. There, he found the two Colonial soldiers posted outside the open door. He heard water splashing against a body inside, but didn't see her from this angle.

"I was talking to the male prisoner," Stake said to the unit's only female. "Good job using your womanly wiles, Martin."

Private Martin nodded. "I'll try to find out anything else significant. He hates our guts, but it looks like he wouldn't mind bedding down with an Earth woman if he had a chance."

"Speaking of womanly wiles, sir," Devereux spoke up, "some of us are getting concerned about you and this woman. The past couple of days you've been in there with her more than out here with us."

"Don't worry about what I do, private."

"I worry because you're our commanding officer now-corporal. And you're our commanding officer because that woman in there killed Babouris and Lindy. Is that so easy to forget, just because she's beautiful?"

"I haven't forgotten that. But did you know that woman spared your life a few days ago?"

"Martin told me. I don't believe it. Yes, we were reading letters in the clearing. Looking at pictures of Lindy's kids: a boy, five; a girl, two. Who'll never see their dad again, because that woman shot his face off. If you ask me, she didn't kill us just then because she thought it would draw too much fire, and her partner was already wounded. Not because she felt sorry for us."

"Believe what you want to believe."

"I will. And I believe you're fraternizing with the enemy. Or is that sodomizing the enemy?"

"You will show me respect, private!" Stake roared. He thought he could hear the Earth Killer tense her body motionless, just then, as she listened to them in the next room.

"When we get out of here, you may find yourself reported, corporal."

"If you do get out of here, you'll have that woman to thank for it."

"Yeah?" He smirked. "Like I say, it isn't just me who isn't too happy about how chummy you are with her. You know, you can't be with her every minute, as much as you might like that. And who knows; she might just try to escape. One of us might just have to shoot her in the back."

Stake stepped closer, until his face was inches from the other man's face. So close, that his features were starting to mold themselves into Devereux's angry reflection. "If someone makes that serious mistake, they might find themselves shot, too. In the front."

Martin put a hand on Devereux's shoulder. "You better do as the corporal says. No one has witnessed any improper behavior. We have to stick together, here. The Ha Jiin could move on this position at any time."

Stake's compack beeped just then. It was affixed to his belt, and he glanced down at it. "I'm going to take this call. See that woman safely back to her quarters when she's done, and get her some food." He then stalked off with Henderson in tow.

Stake detached the little computer and thumbed it on in front of his face. Another man's visage appeared on its little screen. That visage was covered in a camouflage of blue patches, ranging from pastel to indigo. But the camouflage was not makeup, Stake knew, nor was it even tattooing. It was the man's natural coloration, if natural were the right word. Stake understood straight away that he was looking at a clone. Many of the Colonial Forces infantrymen were copies cloned from belf masters-soldiers bio-engineered to be better fighters. Stronger, hardier, with enhanced hearing and vision, and in this case better equipped to blend into their surroundings. Since the Earth Colonies had only been involved in the so-called Blue War for three years at this point, the man's blue-based camouflage meant that this clone was probably only a year or two old. And yet, a moment later Stake realized that this being outranked him.

"Corporal Stake? I'm Sergeant Adams, of the 5th Advance Rangers. We're the men headed to rendezvous with you at the enemy temple."

"Yes, sir. Good to talk with you, sergeant," Stake said. In reality, though, he was always wary when dealing with clones. They tended to be grouped into their own units, and so there was often resentment or even hostility between them and the "birther" soldiers, as the clones had nicknamed men like Stake. The birther men felt superior for not being a mass-produced product. The clones felt superior knowing that they were, in general, the better warriors. Stake tried not to fall into childish tribalism and counterproductive rivalry, as so many others did, but it was easy to get swept up in it when the derision was directed one's own way.

"Stake, we're in the Kae Ta Valley and things are a bit intense down here." In fact, Stake could hear a distant crackling of gunfire in the background. "I estimate we're going to be a few days behind in merging our unit with yours."

"Understood, sir. We'll continue to hold this position until you arrive, or until we receive new orders."

"Good man. Hey-we heard you caught the Earth Killer. Nice work, corporal." "Yes, sir."

"Got to run. Places to go, people to kill. I'll get back to you ASAP."

"Thanks, sergeant." The man's patterned face vanished from his compack's screen, and he returned it to his belt.

A short while later, the soldiers ate some dinner and settled in, restlessly listening to the sounds of the darkening jungle as diurnal animals made way for nocturnal. Stake stole back toward the room in which Thi Gonh was kept. There, he found Devereux posted outside. The man looked agitated when he saw Stake coming toward him.

"Go get Martin to replace you," Stake told him harshly. "I don't want you guarding this woman anymore."

"Okay, sir," Devereux stammered, sounding strangely less cocky all of a sudden, "but why don't you go get Martin, and I'll wait here until…"

Beyond the thick door, Stake heard a muffled voice. A man's.

He pushed past Devereux, threw the glossy blue door open.