John Ringo - Islands of Rage and Hope

“We’ll be fine till then,” Dr. Price said. “One question. How many MDs have you found?”

“One,” Sophia said. “You. Our other doctors are Lieutenant Fontana and Mr. Walker, who are both SF medic trained. There’s one in the CDC who can talk us through stuff. Oh, and we’ve got seventeen hundred women who are pregnant and about to give birth.”

“I’m not sure how many more shocks like that I can handle,” Rizwana said.

“Here’s another then,” Sophia said. “We had eighteen hundred. We’ve lost about a hundred babies or their mothers to complications or miscarriages already. And when Walker isn’t in here, he’s running around the flotilla checking on the mothers. Including both of my subordinate skippers and six members of our boat crews. Last bit of news. We’re moving, so you’re going to have to put up with some motion. This beach is getting rather nasty so we’re moving to a harbor that hasn’t been shot up. Should take about an hour. Since I have to move my boat as well…”

She hung her head.

“See y’all tomorrow,” she said, exiting the container.

“Sir, I’ve been looking at the map…” Faith said, her mouth half full of sushi.

The Marines had cleaned up after extracting the astronauts, eaten breakfast, then crashed. It was dinner time and Faith was still barely recovered.

In the interim the task force had moved to Rendezvous Bay. It was on the far side of the island from Road Salt Pond Bay and thus nicely away from the smell and sight of piles of dead bodies. Unfortunately, it was close to Blowing Point, which had been another clearance point. But even though the wind was from that direction, there was no real effect.

The bay was better in lots of ways. It had fewer wrecks and less mess than Road Salt Pond and there was, apparently, no fire damage. There were a couple of resorts in sight that looked almost as if nothing had happened.

“Remember those sayings, Lieutenant?” Hamilton said. “That sounds very much like ‘I have an idea…’”

“I’m a second lieutenant not a first lieutenant, sir,” Faith said. “But about the map, sir. This beach has another one of those salt ponds behind it. It’s just a little strip of sand, sir. It’s even narrower than that other anchorage was.”

“I noticed that, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said.

“Thing is, sir, we put out a couple of security points and infected can’t really get to it, sir,” Faith said.

“Thinking of hitting the beach for a tan, Lieutenant?” Hamilton asked.

“Thinking that most of us haven’t had anything like a break in a long time, sir,” Faith said. “So, yes, sir, that was sort of asking if the men could have some shore leave, sir. Since we’re stuck here till the astronauts recover, sir. I was thinking about Christmas day, sir.”

“How would you do it?” Hamilton asked, interested.

“One squad should be able to cover it, sir,” Faith said. “One team at each end with the squad leader doing interior patrol as sergeant of the guard, sir. If we’re here for a few days we could have them rotate one day on one off, sir.”

“Why not Navy away teams?” Hamilton asked.

“I…don’t run them, sir?” Faith said.

“The force has about the same number of Naval ground combat team members as Marines,” Hamilton said. “How would you do it if you had them as well?”

“Not much different, sir,” Faith said after a moment’s thought. “Possibly have two shifts each day. I’d suggest that all armed personnel who go ashore, go ashore armed. But other than that…Just more free time, sir.”

“How do you integrate the fact that people who go on liberty tend to drink?” Hamilton asked. “What about a reaction team?”

“I’m getting out of my depth, sir,” Faith said.

“There’s an outline for a standard liberty schedule in your inbox, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said. “Along with our current TOE. I need the details filled in by zero eight hundred tomorrow. That way, people can have liberty on Christmas Day.”

“You’d already thought of it, sir,” Faith said.

“The definition of intelligence is generally said to be when someone has the same idea you have,” Hamilton said. “I’ve found it to be when someone has a better idea. But you’re getting there….”

“Hi, folks,” Hamilton said, looking through the plexiglass. There was an intercom with a hand mike set up. “I’m Colonel Hamilton, commander of Kodiak Force. Sorry I haven’t made it down here before now. You all nominal?”

“Nominal, Colonel,” Commander Daniels said, sticking up a thumb.

“Now that we’ve got the plasma running, we’re working on getting you up on video with the Hole and suchlike,” Hamilton said. “We also took the time to extract the seats from the capsule. Doctor, do you think those would be preferable if we can decontaminate them?”

“How contaminated are they?” Dr. Price asked.

“We used the same protocols to recover them that we used to extract you,” Hamilton said. “They’re in the five-ton, which you can’t see is still parked right behind the container. We’re just not sure if it’s worth the risk. On the other hand, the bedding you are on just came off the cleanest boats we could find that didn’t appear to have been opened since the plague broke out. We cleaned the hell out of them, obviously, but… Those have a higher likelihood of contagion than your capsule seats.”

“More wonderful news,” Dr. Price said. “The seats would be preferable. They’re conformal and we actually need to be somewhat vertical to get our bodies adjusted to gravity.”

“I’ll have them moved in next shift,” Hamilton said. “For general information on the progress of any potential contagion, our experience is that most people who turn start to do so in the first several weeks after exposure. According to Dr. Dobson at the CDC, with your reduced immune systems, that’s more like three to five days. So if you’re going to turn we should know in a week or so. I’m not trying to be depressing with that. Simply the realities of current existence.”

“Understood,” Dr. Price said. “We’d discussed on the station what was likely when we landed.”

“We’d discussed simply reentering more or less at random,” Commander Daniels said. “But the Hole assured us that all we’d find is infected.”

“It really is all gone?” Rizwana said.

“It is,” Hamilton said, simply. “This is the first place we’ve cleared that you reasonably can walk around with minimal arms and security. And it took a heck of a lot to make it that way.”

“Even looking at the view at night,” Tom said, shaking his head. “It’s hard to believe.”

“It’s like that for people who were in enclosed spaces, even lifeboats,” Hamilton said. “Cognitive dissonance and denial are fairly normal responses in the current environment. I was in a warehouse. When you can go out at night and there is not a light to be seen and no humans but infected…it’s easier to believe and understand.”

“Do you have family, Colonel?” Rizwana asked. “We have a daughter in England.”

“Point of protocol is that that’s generally not a subject of discussion,” Hamilton said. “But since you did ask, I had to kill my wife and son, ma’am.”

“Oh, my Lord, Colonel,” the physicist said, her hand over her mouth. “I am sorry for…” she shook her head again.

“And that is why the subject of family is generally off-limits, Doctor,” Hamilton said.

“What is the plan for us when we’re recovered?” Matveev asked.

“You’re probably all headed back to Gitmo,” Hamilton said. “If you wish to help out, that’s where you’re most likely to be of help. We’re on a rather specific mission. But back to Gitmo is the plan.”