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Star Corps(147)

By:Ian Douglas


As Warhurst continued speaking with the woman, Garroway noticed something on the floor…a folded piece of fabric that apparently had been pulled from the top of the FTL comm device when Warhurst had dragged the red cloth cover off. Stooping, he picked it up.

It was a small, folding monitor display, fifteen centimeters by twenty-one, with a tiny camera woven into the smartthreads of the upper border. Printed on the bottom were the words SURVIVALCAM: UFRS EMISSARY.

“Emissary,” he said aloud.

Warhurst turned from the screen and looked at him. “What was that, Marine?”

He looked up. “Sorry, sir. ‘Emissary.’ I found this on the deck.”

Warhurst took the cloth and studied it.

“Emissary,” Kat Vinita said. “That was the Terran Legation ship, wasn’t it? The one that was destroyed?”

“That’s the one. I wonder who—” He stopped. “My God!”

Warhurst stepped beyond the FTL unit’s pickup field, holding the display screen taut in his hands. Garroway was close enough to see a face, a human face looking up out of the cloth, a face as surprised as the captain’s and perhaps even more delighted.

“You came!” the face said, the voice thin and reedy over the folding screen’s smarthtread speakers but clear enough to be understood. “My God, you came! We knew you would!”

“I’m Captain Martin Warhurst, UFR Marines. Who are you?”

“Uh…sorry, sir! Master Sergeant Gene Aiken, UFR Marine Corps! Currently assigned to the Terran Legation, Ishtar!”

“Goddess! Where are you?”

Aiken grinned. “The Ahtun Mountains, sir. Roughly fifty klicks east of New Sumer. We’ve been holed up here ever since the Frogs chased us out.”

“Ten years…?”

“I reckon so, sir. But we knew you wouldn’t forget us. We’ve just been waiting for the Marines to land and put the situation well in hand!”

“Stay on this line, Master Sergeant,” Warhurst said. He handed the cloth to Garroway, then stepped back in front of the FTL screen. “Um, Madame Dumont?”

“Yes, monsieur. I could not catch what you were just saying. Is there interference at your end?”

“My apologies, Madame Dumont. Something urgent has come up. We’ll be in touch shortly.”

“But, monsieur—”

“Let’s go, people.”

Wondering just what the hell was going on, Garroway followed Warhurst and the others out of the Chamber of the Eye.

Regimental HQ

Building 5, Legation Compound

New Sumer, Ishtar

1924 hours ALT

“This Dumont person didn’t tell you anything more?” Ramsey demanded.

“No, sir,” Warhurst replied. “She seemed helpful enough and surprised to see me. But she would not make the connection for us with Washington.”

Ramsey rubbed his chin. “She could be telling the truth, of course. Solar weather does play hob with the comm relays sometimes. But I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I, sir.” He pointed at the unfolded screen on the table beside them, with Aiken’s bearded face looking up at them. “That’s why I decided to keep this quiet, at least until you decide otherwise.”

“Well done, Colonel.” Ramsey looked at General King. “General? I suggest we defer further communications with Earth until we can transport the Legation survivors back here.”

“I agree, Colonel. A communications malfunction right now is just a little too convenient.”

“So, Master Sergeant,” Ramsey said, looking down into Aiken’s face. “How would you like to come back to the compound?”

“We’ll have to bum a lift, sir,” Aiken replied. “We got all our people out here on board three old Starhauler TAVs. We had to make a bunch of trips, though, to get everyone out, and ten years sitting in the jungle afterward didn’t do their power plants any good. They’re just rusty junk now.”

“Not a problem. We can deploy a Dragonfly with a landing module and bring at least some of you back. How many survivors are there?”

Aiken pursed his lips. “Well, sir…our current roster has eighteen Marines and 158 civilians. Twenty-seven of those last are children.”

“Children?” Ramsey exclaimed. “What children?…Oh.”

“Yes, sir. It has been ten years.” He grinned. “And the natives are friendly.”

“Natives?”

“Yes, sir. We’re living at a village of…well, they call themselves dumu-gir. It means a native child in the Ishtaran common tongue…but it means ‘freeborn.’”

“You mean these are humans? Free humans? Escaped from the Ahannu?”