Al Steiner: Greenies

That was a loaded question and it was not surprising that Mindy Ming, the MarsGroup reporter, was the only one to ask it. All of the other reporters represented either InfoServe Internet Communications stations or SpacialNet Communications stations. Those were the two major providers of Internet media and literature in WestHem and though they pretended to be antagonistic to government and corporate motivations and elected officials, they were actually little more than the propaganda arm. Again, anyone with any thinking capacity knew this. But MarsGroup was a Mars based, independent Internet media corporation. It's owners and investors were all Martian-born who had no financial ties to any Earth-based corporations. They were often derided in the popular press and had been sued for libel so many times it would be years before all of the cases came to court. They were a constant thorn in the side of many a politician or corporation. Laura, though publicly she denounced MarsGroup like everyone else, secretly admired them greatly. MarsGroup news services, in her mind, was what news reporting should be like. They strove to find the truth instead of simply repeating what their masters told them to repeat.

"Well," Laura said lightly, as if the question were a ridiculous annoyance, "I don't think we really have much to worry about in terms of an EastHem invasion. My understanding is that our space forces in orbit and at Triad are more than sufficient to keep them from attempting such a feat."

"Really?" Mindy said, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. "Is it not true that a good portion of our space-based attack craft were destroyed attempting to repel this battle group?"

Laura feigned a sigh, as if she were dealing with a complete paranoid. Again this was just for appearances. Mindy's military source, whomever he or she was, was obviously very highly placed. Though the general public did not know it yet, both sides in the conflict had recently discovered the fallacy of trying to attack heavily defended space cruisers or stations with small attack craft. The anti-spacecraft lasers could pick them off like ducks in a skeet range. Well over three quarters of the front-line defense craft based at Triad had been blown to pieces in three separate attacks without putting a single EastHem ship out of commission. Well over half of the crews of those ships had been killed or captured.

"I am not the one to ask about military matters," Laura said shortly. "I'm just a councilwoman. I have every confidence however, that our armed forces have the situation above our planet well in hand. And as for city defenses, as you are aware by the itinerary we supplied you with, we will be visiting the staging area for the WestHem marine forces that have been assigned to Eden next."

The two strong-willed women locked eyes for a moment. Laura could see the contempt Mindy held for her reflected in those brown orbs. Sell-out , those eyes said to her. You're nothing but a corporate, WestHem sell-out . She ignored the look. She had seen it many times before and would see it many times again. Though it still hurt a little, though it still bothered her to be seen as a traitor to her people, to their ideals, to be considered a tool of oppression, she was getting used to it.

The staging area for the 103 rdWestHem Marine Battalion, the battalion responsible for defending the city of Eden in the event of an EastHem invasion, was a city park located just on the edge of the city perimeter. The park was the showpiece of the business district and was nearly five square kilometers in size. It was surrounded on all four sides by towering high rises, the biggest on the planet. The Agricorp building itself stood across the street from the eastern entrance to the park grounds. It was the tallest building in the solar system at 325 stories. The park itself was mostly grassy fields, groves of trees, and winding walkways that snaked in all directions. There was a zoo and a golf course as well as football and baseball fields and a large duck pond. The roof of the city, which was usually ten meters above the ground over the streets, rose to more than a hundred meters above the park grounds. In addition the roof here was mostly plexiglass instead of a mixture of glass windows and steel support beams. This allowed the pale Martian sun to shine brightly in the park during the daylight hours instead of being broken up into shadow.

Usually the park was filled with a mixture of business types taking lunch hour walks through the nature areas, daycare providers walking groups of children to the play equipment, and unemployed lower-class thugs and gang-members. But that had been during peacetime. Now the marines had occupied the sports fields, the golf course, and every other piece of open land in the park. They had set up inflatable tents in geometric clusters near the west side. Near the south side were a collection of mobile command posts and latrines. In between, a calisthenics and jogging area had been fashioned. Near the north side entrance, the closest entrance to the actual edge of the city, was a storage depot for weapons and bio-suits. Off duty marines could be seen walking everywhere through the park, most dressed in the blue shorts and white T-shirts they wore inside of a protected area. Most were between the ages of twenty and thirty years old and, since they were combat troops, all were men. They gathered in clusters of two, four, six, sometimes more. They walked to and from the mess hall. They exercised in the calisthenics area. To the uneducated eye their numbers appeared generous indeed, more than a match for any EastHem invasion force, particularly when you considered that nearly a third of them were on-duty outside of the safety of the city, out in the Martian wastelands.

Their commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Ron Herald, greeted the tour of Eden city council members personally. He was dressed the same as his men, in a pair of blue shorts with the marine emblem upon the leg and a white T-shirt with his name and rank on the breast. His hair was short, as were all marines' hair, and his body was trim and fit. He looked like that kind of man that you would like to have in charge of your city's defenses. He practically oozed confidence.

He greeted each council member personally, addressing him or her by name and offering whispered reassurances that their city was perfectly safe in the hands of his men. "Landing here and attacking this city," he told Laura, "would be the worst mistake those EastHem fascists ever made. My battalion would eat them for breakfast."

"That's good to know, Colonel," Laura beamed right back, putting the reassured expression upon her face.

Herald gave them a tour of the staging area, leading them around from place to place and pointing out every cluster of tents. Of course the entourage of reporters followed along behind, Mindy Ming included. They saw the inside of a typical tent, in which squads of marines were housed on small inflatable mattresses. They were shown the primitive latrine facilities where the marines took care of their bodily functions. They walked through the mess hall, which was full of empty tables and filled with the smell of dinner being constructed. Finally they were led to the staging area itself.

A large guarded reinforced tent housed the marine equipment. Herald led them past two armed guards out front and into the interior, which was mostly a huge locker room. Rows of gray plastic storage cabinets sat before rows of plastic benches. The smell was that of locker rooms solar system wide; of stale sweat and dirty clothing.

"It is in here," Herald explained, "where the marines under my command change into the biosuits which allow them to operate outside of the pressurization of the city. The biosuits are completely self-contained and supply oxygen, food paste, water, and even excretory containers for the soldiers wearing them. With the supply carried within the suit the soldier can stay outside the safety of this artificial environment for twelve hours at a time. The suits are somewhat bulky of course but modern WestHem engineering and manufacturing have managed to keep the fully loaded weight down to less than forty kilograms. That is five kilograms less, I might add, than the standard EastHem biosuit. This weight advantage, which translates into increased mobility in the field and the ability to carry more equipment, is but one advantage that my soldiers have over their EastHem counterparts."