Europa Strike(104)

Or had he been lying here unconscious all that time?

Movement…a shadow.

Something moved, a silhouette against the baleful orange-ocher light of Jupiter.

He recognized the space suits. Chinese!…

Lucky held very still as several PRC troops walked past; one gave him a curious glance as he stepped across Lucky’s chest. Several more passed, and then one actually stooped at Lucky’s side, turning his helmet, trying to peer in through the visor.

Lucky could see the man’s lips moving inside his helmet, but heard nothing. Then, the enemy troops were gone. Lucky decided they must have seen the blood on the inner curve of his visor and figured he was dead or dying.

Well, face it, he thought. You are dying. The cold was chewing its way through his legs, his torso. These Mark IIB suits were well insulated, but he was in contact with solid ice at a temperature of-140°; any heat his suit still held would swiftly trickle away. Not as fast as an ordinary suit, perhaps, and a quick freeze might be a blessing. It was ironic. He might very well wish he didn’t have so efficient a suit before long.

Two-B, or not two-B? he asked himself, and started giggling hysterically.

His indicators weren’t telling him how much air he had; which would kill him first, air loss? Or the cold?

He wished he’d been able to get to know Liss better. She seemed nice, full of bounce and fun.

So…why do you like sims better than the real thing? Funny, but he’d never asked himself that. He’d always kind of assumed the answer had to do with Becka, who’d called off the wedding two weeks before the date, who’d told him that he was too domineering, too possessive, too much of a damned control freak, that she never wanted to see him again.

Well, sure he was a control freak. That was why he’d joined the Marines, right? Because he always wanted to have things his own way? He chuckled at the thought, but the slight movement sent pain lancing down his side and leg.

It hadn’t helped that she’d ended up marrying his best friend just a month later.

Well, maybe it was time to face the fact that he and Becka just hadn’t been right for each other. If he was domineering, she was demanding. Their times in bed hadn’t been all that good, not with her trying to boss him every step of the way. No, it was a good thing she’d wised up and dumped him; they’d both have been miserable if they’d gone through with it.

What was that? He thought he’d felt a faint, far-off jolt transmitted through the ice.

Couldn’t have been anything.

Or…maybe it was. Those Chinese troops had been going somewhere in a hurry. Maybe they were hitting the base right now. He tried moving again, ignoring the pain. Damn it, he had to move!

More jars and jolts. Yeah, detonations of some sort, definitely. Who was winning?

He’d never had a lot to do with women after Becka. Hell, why should he, with Mr. Virtuality and on-line sex services all so readily available? Man, you could lose yourself in those tailor-made wet dreams, lose yourself and never come back.

And the best part of all was that your partners never nagged and never demanded. You were the boss and they did it the way you wanted.

Okay, so they didn’t care. The illusion was good enough. The fantasy…

What the hell had Liss meant by that crack about never having tried her? Was she really interested in him? Or just setting him up for the punchline?

Nah. Women were all the same. Demanding. Controlling. Whining. And ready to drop you in an instant for someone they thought would be a better opportunity for them. His best friend had been in law school. That was why she’d dropped Lucky and grabbed him…right?

He was better off without her. He was just fuzzy-headed with the cold and the low oxy, and, okay, maybe he was missing his regular sessions at Mr. Virtuality and the pent-up pressures were fogging his brain. Hell, he’d had to make do with the movie clips on his PAD since he’d left Earth, and they just weren’t the same as a real woman’s soft and loving touch.

No, not a real woman.

Damn, where was Lissa? Had she run off and left him?

Had those Charlies gotten her?

Damn, if only his radio was working.

He hadn’t felt any more thumps through the ice for quite a while now. He was also vaguely aware that quite a bit of time had passed. He thought he’d been unconscious again, but couldn’t tell.

Lissa hadn’t abandoned him. She might be a woman, but she was a Marine, and Marines never abandoned their own.

What had happened? Maybe she was lying dead or wounded somewhere, just out of his sight. Damn, if only he could get up. He was feeling lots better now, almost warm and cozy. Maybe his suit heaters had kicked in again. Maybe his suit wasn’t as badly damaged as he thought. May be…