Alien War Trilogy 2: Zeus Page 12

  Rade had nothing more to add, so he rested his head against the wall once more.

  After a moment he said: “It’s too bad we don’t have any motion sensors. We’re going to have to alternate watches tonight.”

  “You really think we’ll be attacked in here?” Adara asked.

  “Do you want to take the chance that we won’t? That door barricade won’t hold for long.”

  “Good point,” she said. “I’ll take first watch.”

  “No, I will.”

  She shook her head. “You’ve been awake all day. I, on the other hand, only just woke up. It makes sense that it should be me.”

  Suddenly suspicious, Rade was reluctant to agree. He studied her features in the dim light. She seemed sincere. But then again, he was never the best at ferreting out liars.

  “All right. Take the first watch.” He settled into the corner, closed his eyes, and pretended to go to sleep. He counted down roughly a minute in his head, and then purposely changed his breathing, slowing it way down. He was well-acquainted with the telltale pattern of breathing that came with sleep—when you boarded with a platoon of men aboard a starship for months at a time, how could you not be?

  The floorboards nearby creaked, and he sensed motion. He opened his eyes a crack. Adara had stood up.

  She walked to the window and held out her hand, touching the glass. The action seemed yearning somehow, as if she wished to return to the forward operating base more than anything. Or perhaps she merely wanted to rejoin her brethren on the infested street below.

  She’s not one of them, Rade told himself. He wasn’t sure he believed it.

  She stayed there for what he guessed were ten minutes, then she sat down across from him, lifted her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her head in her lap. Then she wept.

  Rade had seen enough. He allowed his respiration to return to normal and made a loud yawn, pretending that he had only just awakened.

  Her crying instantly stopped.

  Tough woman.

  “You sleep lightly,” she said, sounding cheerfully. Good liar, too.

  “Yeah,” Rade said. “What did you do to wake me?”

  “Nothing. Just got up and moved to the other side of the room.”

  “Well, don’t do it again,” Rade said.

  “Yes, boss,” she replied.

  “Now you understand our hierarchy.” Rade decided to lie down. He closed his eyes, intending to sleep for real.

  But then she spoke again.

  “The man you left behind, what did he look like?”

  “You mean the Marine back there?” Rade said. “I don’t know. Like a typical soldier. Not too old. Maybe twenty. Grimy face. Bumpy nose, like it’s been broken a few times and he never bothered to have it reset. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. I just wanted to know a little bit more about the man who died so that I could live.” Adara sighed. “I’ve seen so many people die during my term. First during the Tau Ceti invasion a year back. And now this.”

  Rade sat up. “You were at Tau Ceti?”

  “I was.”

  “No kidding. Small world.”

  “Which company were you with?” she asked. “Or were you MOTHs on some secret mission?”

  “We were with the Marines for a while, yes. A Company, 1st Assault Battalion.”

  “Ah. Well, the fighting got so messy and disorganized back there, we probably fought side by side at some point. Our platoons, anyway.”

  “Probably,” Rade agreed.

  She paused, then: “How do you deal with all the death and destruction you’ve seen? How do you handle the loss of your brothers?”

  Rade wasn’t sure how to answer. He considered his words carefully, and then said: “I once lost a brother I grew up with. His name was Alejandro. We had been through everything together. And I mean everything. The ghetto. Hopping the border. Bootcamp. Deployments. To lose someone like that, it’s like having your world ripped away from you.” Rade shook his head. “I couldn’t deal with it. I was in tatters. But a good friend helped me through it. Tahoe, that’s his name. He told me that we have to fight on. And that we have to continue fighting for the rest of our lives. Otherwise, the death of our brother was for nothing. And that’s what I did. I’m still fighting, even today.”

  “Thank you,” Adara said.

  “Now then, since you’re on watch...”

  He lay back down and closed his eyes. He listened to her nearby breathing, finding the sound relaxing, if somewhat erotic. Several moments passed; he had nearly fallen asleep when her voice pulled him back from the brink.

  “Do you find me attractive?” she said.

  He sighed loudly. “You’re never going to let me sleep, are you?”

  “Do you?”

  Rade sat up once more. “Is this a trick question?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Yes you’re attractive,” he said. “Somewhat.”

  “Somewhat...”

  “The dim light helps,” he joked.

  “Well, thank you very much.” She sounded irked. Not surprising.

  “All right, look,” he said. “You’re the first woman I’ve interacted with since my deployment began. So of course I’m going to find you attractive.”

  “I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment, or an insult.”

  “Probably a bit of both,” Rade said.

  “Ever the ladies man,” she said bitterly. Then: “You said I reminded you of her.”

  “Okay, I know what you’re getting at,” Rade said. “But I can’t.”

  “You can’t, or you won’t?”

  Rade didn’t answer.

  “I know you want me,” she said. “I can tell by the way you look at me. Hungrily.”

  “Really. You can tell that, when it’s so dark.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of Rade’s own disbelief.

  “A woman notices many things in a man,” she said. “And it’s not so dark.”

  A momentary flash lit up her face, and he could see the desire written all over it.

  Rade realized he was going to have to make a choice.

  “It’s because of her, isn’t it?” Adara pressed. “That’s why you won’t do it.”

  Rade still refused to speak. He didn’t trust himself.

  “You know that we could die at any time, right?” she continued. “Or be captured again. This could be the last chance either of us has to know intimacy. You said it yourself, she’s not your girlfriend anymore. The two of you are star systems apart. You’ve moved on.”

  “I never said I’ve moved on,” Rade replied, a little meekly. His resolve was weakening by the second.

  “But you should,” Adara said. “And that’s the whole point, isn’t it? She has moved on. I guarantee it. I know a few things about women, you see. She’s probably with someone right now, at this very moment.”

  Rade didn’t want to believe it.

  She crawled across the floor toward him, and then reached out, tentatively, but withdrew her hand when Rade moved away.

  “You’re not her,” Rade said, though he wanted Adara more than anything in that moment.

  “I can be,” she said.

  In the dim light, he could almost believe it was her. Almost.

  “Close your eyes,” she said. “Pretend I’m her. Say her name when you touch me.” When he made no move to comply, she added: “Please. Do this for me. I want to remember what it feels like, one last time. Before it’s too late.”

  Rade closed his eyes. She was right: in his mind’s eyes, the warm body he sensed beside him was indeed Shaw.

  At last he couldn’t help himself.

  He reached out, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately.

  “Shaw, I’ve missed you,” he said.

  “And I you.”

  He could have sworn that voice belonged to her, and he kissed her even more ardently.

  The logical side of him knew it wasn’t true. That s
ide wanted him to stop immediately, and it recoiled in outrage at his behavior: that he could betray Shaw so readily, and so quickly, after meeting a new woman. Yet that part was seared away by the sheer fire of lust raging inside of him, an unquenchable blaze that threatened to devour everything that made him who he was. A fire that had little regard for the contrivances of the logical mind such as moral code and the consequences of one’s actions.

  The simple fact was, he hadn’t been with a woman in over a year, not since the breakup. And he couldn’t quench those flames even if he wanted to.

  Overcome with lust, he stripped off his jumpsuit frantically, and pulled down the upper hem of his lower undergarments so that his throbbing manhood was in her hands.

  “I want you.” In the passion of the moment, he wasn’t sure if it was he, or she, who said that.

  She had hauled down her own undergarments and guided him inside her.

  One word repeated in his mind again and again as he thrust thirstily.

  Shaw. Shaw.

  eighteen

  Rade lay on the floor, spent, unable to find repose. Adara apparently had no such difficulty, because she was fast asleep. She was lying on top of him, naked—they’d completely torn off their undergarments before the second session. Her face cuddled against his broad chest, her breasts pressed into his ribs, her fingers curled into the tufts of hair that decorated his abdominals. He wasn’t sure, but in the dim light he thought she wore a wide, satisfied grin on her face.

  He resolved in that moment not to feel any guilt.

  He and Shaw had agreed to go their separate ways. He had held out for a year, hoping that they would get back together. But it was a futile hope, he realized. He had to live his life. And if that meant having sex with random women on equally random battlefields, then so be it.

  It was probably a good thing he couldn’t sleep, because one of them needed to keep watch anyway. After about half an hour, he gently shoved Adara to the floor. She’d cut off the circulation in one leg quite badly, so he got up and walked out the numbness in the adjacent room. The skin surrounding the metallic hardpoint embedded in his right shoulder was tender—those protrusions had turned on Adara, and she had suckled the shoulder area like a babe nursing from a teat.

  He returned to the main room to quietly pull on his cool vent undergarments, and then he attached the various jumpsuit assemblies. Adara didn’t wake up the whole time. It was just as well.

  He found a chair for himself, pulled it up to the window, and sat down to wait out the rest of the night.

  Morning came.

  When the first rays of light touched her forehead, Adara stirred.

  “Did I sleep the whole night?” she asked, sitting up to rub her eyes.

  “You did.” Rade watched the way her breasts bobbed pleasantly from side to side while she did that, and he felt himself getting aroused all over again.

  She scowled. “You should have woken me.”

  Rade smiled in return. “Probably. But you looked so adorable, I couldn’t bring myself to.”

  The scowl deepened and she retrieved her undergarments in a huff, turning her back to him.

  He watched the muscles of her toned arms and tight buttocks ripple as she dressed. Few women had such lean musculature, and it was somewhat of a novelty for him.

  “You could at least look away,” she said over one shoulder. “As any decent man would.”

  “I never said I was a decent man,” Rade replied. “Besides, I’m enjoying the view.”

  “Humph!” she finished shrugging on the tight undergarments, then paused beside a mirror to examine herself. “You know, in bootcamp, I cried when they shaved my hair.”

  “Aww,” he said, unable to resist the mocking tone.

  “But at least back then, they shaved it all off. Not a partial shave like this. I look like a monk or something.”

  “It’s called a ‘tonsure,’“ Rade said.

  “I don’t care what it’s called,” she said. “As soon as I get my hands on a sonic shaver, I’m taking it all off.”

  “All right. The streets are empty, by the way.”

  She turned around to face him. “Good. But before we proceed, I just want to make something crystal clear. What happened last night between us, it was just lust. The sex between two lost souls, trapped behind enemy lines, seeking the comfort of one another’s bodies. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  Rade felt a little disappointed, but he said: “I agree completely. In fact, I was just about to say the same.”

  She searched his face. “Good. Now let’s go.”

  “No,” Rade said. “We stay here until I say so.”

  She frowned. “I’m in charge—”

  “No, you’re not,” he said forcibly. He went to the window frame, peered past the edge, and surveyed the street.

  She came to his side, keeping away from the glass, obviously not wanting to be spotted by anyone—or anything—below. “I thought you said it was clear?”

  “It is,” he said. “But I want to wait an hour to make absolutely certain there’s nothing waiting for us out there. You’re going to be a good girl and take up a station on the opposite side of the window, and you’re going to look at every rooftop, every window, every nook and cranny in the rubble, and then you’re going to look again, and again, until that hour is up. Now get over there.”

  She bit her lower lip, holding back some acidic remark no doubt, then folded her arms and moved deeper into the living room. She crouched behind a couch, crossed to the other side, then made her way to the far end of the window frame. She gave him one last defiant scowl, then began studying the streets below.

  Rade found himself regretting what had happened between them: she had seemed far more manageable before the sex.

  The time passed uneventfully. Other than a few smoke plumes in the distance, nothing otherwise transpired. They saw neither friends nor foes.

  “All right,” Rade said. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed—without his Implant, he couldn’t know. But it felt like an hour. Long enough, anyway. “We’re going to move out.”

  “We follow the smoke plumes?” she asked.

  “I always knew you were a quick learner,” he quipped.

  They picked their way through the rubble-strewn streets, keeping close to the walls.

  “I don’t suppose we could visit the shoe store?” Adara asked along the way. She nodded to an intact shop across the street that bore a sign in Italian that Rade couldn’t read: Nanda Calzature. He supposed it meant footwear of some kind.

  He glanced at her lower extremities and found himself surprised by the number of cuts and contusions on her feet. He hadn’t noticed until that moment, as she hadn’t said a word of complaint. Some of the wounds were scabbed over, likely received while traveling the streets the night before.

  She was definitely a Marine.

  Inside the shop they discovered that the 3D printer had already been looted. That was unfortunate, because the store, like most such shops, didn’t have any inventory—all shoes were printed on demand.

  They continued through the streets. Blaster in hand, Rade made his way to the rooftops occasionally by climbing stairs or rubble. Those vantage points allowed him to get a feel for a given area, and to scan for enemies. He also did it to reorient himself, and ensure that he and Adara were proceeding toward the smoke plumes of the latest battle. On the way out of each building, he paused to look for shoes. There were never any.

  “What are we going to do when we actually reach the fighting?” Adara asked when they made it to the edge of one such roof.

  “Go around it of course,” Rade said. “And join with the defenders.”

  A sharp keening cut through the air. Rade heard an explosion, and a large plume of smoke crested the rooftops several streets away.

  “And if they drop a two thousand pounder on our heads before we get there?” Adara asked.

  “I don’t know,” Rade said. “Have a party?”


  “You claim to be a leader, yet you don’t even know how to reassure those who follow you,” she said.

  “Trust me, that would have reassured the men that follow me.”

  Rade led her forward once more. They gave the billowing smoke a wide berth, not wanting to be the victims of another bomb drop.

  Rade heard the engines of a gunship overheard.

  We’re definitely getting close, now.

  Adara glanced up, then ran out into the middle of the street. “Over here! Over here!”

  The gunship spun about. For a second Rade thought the hovering aircraft was going to fire at her. And then a rocket plowed into the craft from the side, and it went down, exploding as it slammed into a nearby building.

  Adara sprinted back to Rade and he quickly led her away, hurrying through side streets and alleys: he was worried that she had drawn the attention of the enemy.

  Finally, they arrived at what appeared to be the outskirts of a nearby battle. Dead bioengineered creatures littered the street, some of them piled so high that they reached the rooftops of the nearby houses. Rade realized any defenders on those rooftops would have been overrun—the dead formed ramps.

  “Looks like we found the friends who blocked our path last night,” Rade said.

  On some buildings, the crystalline ejecta characteristic of the kraken coated the outer surfaces. Destroyed robots littered the openings of the structures, their metallic limbs hanging over windowsills and out doorways, body parts glinting in the sun.

  He could hear explosions and shouts coming from somewhere ahead. At least, he thought it was ahead—it was hard to tell with the echo. A small plume marked where a smoke grenade had just detonated. Rade guessed it was two streets away.

  “So, time to cross enemy lines?” Adara asked.

  Rade nodded. “We’ll take a side street. Try to come at the Marines from the rear flank.”

  “Someone will be watching their six,” Adara said.

  “I’m counting on it. Just wish I had something white I could wave.”

  They retreated, ducking into a house as four mixed-platoons of robots and kraken made their way forward over the debris. Reinforcements. The incoming units kept close to the walls of the nearby buildings, much like Rade and Adara were doing.