VIS

VIS Vampires in Space

By Anne Marie Talbott

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VIS

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VIS

Anne Marie Talbott, MA, MBA A creative person, I’ve been writing as long as I can remember. Born into a military family; grew up all over the country; settled in Middle Tennessee on a 20 acre farm with my partner of over 20 years. I have a master’s degree in clinical psychology and a MBA with an emphasis on computer information systems. I write about anything that captures my interest, including science fiction, religion, country living, and nature.

I blog at: http://burchbott.com/

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VIS VIS Vampires in Space By Anne Marie Talbott, MA, MBA

Copyright Information This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 444 Castro Street, Suite 900, Mountain View, California, 94041, USA.

Dedicated to: SUSIE

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VIS Chapter 1 “Man, I’ve never seen anything like this,” I mutter to the screen in front of me. The stale smelling air in the office circulates slowly around me as the electronics hum in the background. “You know? I’ve been in this business a damn long time and never…” Max grunts as he looks over the vid I’ve sent him. “Spirit! Me neither. What the hell happened? Someone making some crazy juice up there? Found any?” He glances back to me from the other screen, grimacing. He’s been in the cop business longer that I’ve been so my instincts were right—if it upsets him, it’s gotta be as bad as I thought it looked. I’m no fainting pansy myself but jeeze… I shudder. “Nope. Doc says no trace of drugs. There was some grass in the compartment, but it was only the company-issued crap they give out for anxiety. The little green pellets. Nothing else. Nothing but this.” I look down at the vids myself, displayed on my desk. They show… They show what used to be a human, although you’d be hard pressed to guess that at first. There are parts everywhere in the compartment; the man was literally pulled limb from limb and then the limbs were, well, destroyed. Most of them. A hand looks up forlornly at me from one shot, and part of my mind notes that it’s a left hand, missing the thumb at the base. Wonder if we found the thumb? I shut that line of thought off with a slow shudder. “Max, Company wants me to keep this quiet, but I’m not sure. I think… shit, I don’t know what I think.” I wince, noticing the ongoing headache I’ve had since the guy’s roommate burst into my office a few hours ago, screaming. I had to smack him down to get any words out of him. Then I almost tossed my lunch in the crime scene, something frowned upon in the law enforcement community. “I wanted to ask you about it, but on the Q.T.” “Noticed the privacy filters. Fine by me; Company bastards watch us too much anyways. Let me talk with someone, and I’ll get back with you. This reminds me of something…” Max’s clear gray eyes look troubled. He waves me off and I close the vid screens, putting my hands behind my head and rocking back in my office chair. This is all I need, I think. I thought I’d landed a laid-back sheriff job here on this outpost. Nothing to do but break up drunk brawls, bust the occasional still of crazy juice, watch for smuggling. Close down any too obvious brothels… don’t want the Company ones losing any more money than they do already. And that’s it. Coming from where I came from—the blasted undergrounds of post-war New York—this was supposed to be a piece of cake. And now this. The guy’s roommate worked a different shift, pretty common on this mining asteroid. Easier to share a small compartment with someone if you never see them. Dude came in from his shift, ready to shower and then bunk down, and instead slipped on the blood on the compartment floor. When he picked himself up, he fell again, and then scrambled out of the place, covered with gore and screamed his way all the way to my office. Kinda hard to put a clamp on the rumor mill after that. I have him locked in the hoosegow, cooling off with a special concoction the doc came up with; he’s pretty gorked out and away from the questions and accusations.

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VIS I get up and peek in on him; he’s wearing jailhouse scrubs, bright pink, and snoring heavily on his bunk. He’s going to be out for several hours after the jab the doc gave him. I figure I’ll talk with the doc again. She may be an ornery old cuss but she’s the only ornery old cuss I trust here, besides me. She’s a veteran like me, and we’ve seen some pretty intense stuff over time. But I was hoping not to see it so much anymore. The dreams suck. Doc’s office is a cramped cube on the second level of the habitat; the Company doesn’t like to waste a lot of space on something they probably see as a waste of money. You get the feeling if they didn’t have to provide oxygen and heat, we’d be up a creek. But they want those ultra-dense elements all the geologists and chemists were up here crowing about. I touch the pad on the bulkhead, requesting entrance. It buzzes, a little weakly, and then the hatch slides into the wall. I smell the usual hospital smells—disinfectant, mostly—and wrinkle my nose. Those memories aren’t so hot either. “What the hell are you wrinkling your nose for?” The tall, cadaverously thin woman snarls, looking at me with practiced disdain in her eyes. “Smell something you don’t like?” “Yeah, you, you old cow.” I sit down next to her at her desk. Glower back at her in my best sheriff manner and then we both crack up. The laughter’s a good release after what we’ve seen this morning. “How’s it going?” She takes a drink of coffee. “About as well as can be expected. Lab results mostly back; no illicit drugs. A fair amount of alcohol. From what I could find, he’d eaten not too long before… whatever happened. As far as cause of death? Hell if I know. He’s been dismembered, bones crushed, muscles torn apart. Massive fractures to the skull, once I managed to find all of it. Looks like blunt force but I’m not a specialist on that.” She pauses, clearing her throat. Uh-oh, I think. What’s next? I look at her and spread my hands in mute appeal. “OK. You know the roommate was covered in blood and whatnot.” I nod. “Well, even given that he fell in it and slid around… and all the blood that was there…” She pauses again. “It’s not enough blood.” “What?!” I’d seen the crime scene. “Doc, there was enough blood there for a slaughter house.” “Nope.” “OK.” I pause. “What are you talking about? I mean, all that crap…” Doc Marten looks over her coffee cup at me. “Want some coffee?” I rub my forehead. “How about some aspirin? My head hurts.” “It’s your damn blood pressure, probably. I’ve told you about that, you old fart. Sit here.” She gets up and slowly walks over to the medical dispenser and dials something in. Returning with a flimsy paper cup with water in it, she hands me some pills. “Take these.” I swallow them down. “Happy now?” 6

VIS “Haven’t been happy since I left the Corps, you know that.” She grins. “Damn civilians getting themselves killed up here, on what’s supposed to be a pleasure cruise for old retirement-age shits like us.” Her smile fades. “But I’m telling you, there’s not enough blood. I found… marks on him. On his neck, and torso. Something drained him.” Oh, for crying out loud. Now we have a serial killer who likes blood, I think. Shit. “Drained him?” “Sure of it. Here are the photos I took. I also…” she pauses. “I erased them from the main comp. Don’t ask me why. I just wanted to. I have them on disk as backup, and printed these for you, actual hard copy prints.” The old, instinctual CYA process. We both learned it in our careers in the Marines. And then working for the Company, that only reinforces the training. I nod, holding her eyes with mine. I’m shocked to see real fear in hers, blue eyes behind old fashioned glasses. No new-fangled implants for her (or me), I think. “OK, I’ll lock these up somewhere. Any idea what did it? Should I be looking for a specific weapon?” Doc shakes her head no. “Not sure. Looks almost like bite marks but they’re too big for teeth, at least any teeth I’ve ever seen. Could be some kind of weird weapon.” I look down at the photos in my hands, rifle through them. In each image, centered in the photo, is a round-looking puncture wound, smooth around the sides but with some ragged edges leading from the wound. I raise my eyebrows and she looks down at the one I’m looking at. “Yeah, looks like the body was punctured… drained… then as the tool or whatever was removed, it was ripped from the body. Whoever did this…enjoyed it. That’s what scares the crap out of me, Sarge.” The old term brings me out of the focus I’ve been in, making me look back at her. Remembering when men and women called me that, expected me to have answers. Maybe not answers they liked, but some sort of answer. But this time, I don’t have anything. I cough to cover it up and then sound brisk. “Yeah, well, Doc, I’ll take a closer look at the crime scene, and start interviewing the folks he saw last. And his buddy should be waking up soon, so maybe he’ll have something other than screams to offer up.” I stand up, and start to walk out of the tiny office. Suddenly, impulsively, I turn back and pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. She starts at my touch and then blushes. Then gets mad, her usual defense against anything unusual. “Better watch fraternizing with an officer, jarhead. Hands off!” “Yes, ma’am,” I laugh, and walk back to my office, my mind going a klick a minute. What in the world is going on here?

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VIS Chapter 2 The bar quiets as I walk in. You’d think this was High Noon or something, I think darkly to myself, and swing myself up onto a barstool. The barkeep comes over, as usual polishing the same glass he’s apparently been polishing, with the same cloth, for about six years. Hygiene isn’t a high point here. “A beer, Stan,” I say, pushing a credit across the bar to him. “Your money’s no good here, man,” Stan says, pushing it back along with a beer. “Enjoy.” He walks away. I take a long swig and then look around the dimly lit place. What a dive, reminds me of the off-base emporiums of pleasure near any Marine installation. Kinda like home, part of me laughs. Then I take another drink and decide to track down Sally. She’s the oldest and most experienced gal here… been a working girl for almost all her life. Still looks good though. I find her in one of the corners of the oddly-shaped bar, talking up a mark. She stiffens a little as I walk over and her voice goes up. “Now, we’re just talking about dancing some, Sheriff…” Her john looks gray, like I’ve never seen a guy hitting on a whore before. I nod at them in a friendly manner. The guy clears his throat and then slides from his chair, tossing some money on the cluttered table. She raises her eyebrows at him but he scampers off, embarrassed. “Aw, honey, we wasn’t doing nothin’,” She whines. Blinks her big yellow eyes at me and smoothes her raven black hair down. “Really… nothin’!” “Oh, I know. Just a little under the table hand action. That’s fine. I won’t be shaking hands with you,” I smile, sitting down in one of the other rickety chairs. “Business good?” She nods. “Yeah, with the new crew…” “Hell, yeah. Lonely boys. Just what you and the girls need.” I drink more beer. “Want a beer, Sally?” Her eyes light up. “What a gentleman. Sure!” I wave over at Stan and he nods, and a waitress brings over a couple more bottles of beer. Sally happily pops open the top with her teeth—I remember now she has steel teeth, replaced permanently after one of her pimps kicked her real ones out of her head one night—and quickly starts slugging the beer down. One thirsty girl. I wait until she takes a breather. “Gotta question, Sally.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, looking demurely at me over the bottle. “Sure thing, Sheriff.” “You know this guy?” I toss her a print out of the unfortunate roommate of my jailcell snorer. It’s his official Company ID photo. He looks like a nice enough guy, a little rough around the edges. But then, of course, most people who choose to become miners for the Company aren’t Little Lord Fauntleroy clones. She looks over the photo and nods slowly.

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VIS “Frankie? Maybe?” Her yellow eyes glint in the intermittent light from the bar. “I dunno. Seen him here last night. Nice guy. Good tipper.” Wow, a lead on my first try. I must be getting better at this cop thing. Being an infantry sergeant does help. You learn how to read people pretty quick when leading them into battle. I smile down at her and order another beer. “Saw him last night, huh? Was he with anyone?” She sighs happily as the second beer arrives. “You’re such a sweetie. You really are. You know, anytime you want a freebie, you just call me. I mean it. You never bust me about crap. I like you.” Yeah, I think I’d rather stick it in a meat grinder… But I smile, and nod. “Sure thing, babe. I’ll put that in the old memory bank, for sure. But this Frankie guy… he with anyone in particular last night? Have any favorites?” “Yeah… let’s see. I was having a slow night,” she thinks hard. “And then Miss Bitch shows up, and pissed me off…” She drains the second beer slowly. “Yeah, Miss Bitch. She hit on him real fast. I tried to cut in but she like to froze me out with that look of hers, so I figured let her have the fresh meat. This time. But I swear, I’m gonna catch her one night when she don’t have those damn stilettos on and I’ll beat her ass.” Hmm. Professional rivalry at its best. “Who’s Miss Bitch? Sounds new.” Sally laughs. “Oh, hell yeah. She’s one of the new ones come up on the last shuttle. Fancy little outfits and fake hair. It’s blue some shifts and green others. And those damn shoes… those make hellacious weapons, you know, in a real girl fight.” She pats my hand. “But you don’t need to think about her, honey…” “Oh, I’ll keep you as my Numbah One, Sally!” I pat her back, mentally telling myself I’ll use some antibacterial hand wash soon. “Numbah One!” I toss a couple of credits onto the table. “Get yourself something yummy to eat. You could use it, babe.” The credits disappear into her blouse, low cut enough to barely keep her very full breasts caged. “You sure are a sweetie…” I smile and walk out of the bar, towards the shuttle office. I can find out from there where Miss Bitch lives now. That description should work pretty well to find a name from the transport agent, if he’s not too stoned. If he is, I’ll wait till he comes back to this universe and try again. Different tactics for different situations. Tactical awareness… I chuckle to myself, as I squeeze some antibac foam from a wall dispenser along the corridor. The Company does care about habitat contamination. The office of the shuttle agent is larger than the doc’s office, but not much. I almost cough in reflex as I walk in, being greeted with a huge grey cloud of marijuana smoke. Luckily each compartment has scrubbers for the air, or we’d all be feeling really laid back right now. The shuttle agent is reclining on his desk, a hookah next to him. He looks over at me dazedly and then realizes he actually has a visitor. “Hey, dude! How’s it hanging?”

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VIS I sit down in his chair, prop my feet up on his cluttered desk. “Pretty good, man. Hey, got a question. You know a chick with blue or green hair?” “Um….” His brow furrows in ineffective thought. “She came up on the last shipment. Fancy dresser.” That hits a button. “Oh, yeah, that cow. She stomped the fuck out of my foot when I felt her up… bitch.” He sits up and shows me his foot. A stiletto heel has neatly punctured the top of his foot. “Look at that, man! I had to get a shot from the doc. And that hurt as much as this did. Man… what a bummer.” “Well, at least it looks like it’s healing.” I smile at him. “I need her name, and her location. Quarters.” “Aw, man,” the shuttle agent says. “Ok. Guess I can look it up.” He looks around blearily for the comp. “Um, man, where’s the…” “Here.” I hand him the comp. He swipes a paw over the screen; it recognizes him and chirps. I turned my little chirpy thing off as soon as I figured out how, on mine, but he likes his. He giggles happily and talks to the comp assistant that pops up, a blonde, topless female surfer chick. “Baby, get me the last… ah, thing. The list.” The blonde image hesitates a moment and then a list pops up on the screen. Apparently the comp has learned to interpret stoner speak. Impressive. “Thanks, baby. Here she is… bitch. No, no, not you, baby,” he stutters as the blonde on the screen frowns. “I mean that girl on the list. Really, true.” The blonde smiles vapidly at him and sure as hell, he smiles back. “Vespania Von Drehle?” Good God, what a name. Wonder if it’s a stage name. I’ll have to look it up. “OK, what deck is she quartered on?” “Man, she’s like, bad news. There are lots of nicer girls…” The shuttle agent looks concerned and then takes another long drag on the hookah. The concern fades noticeably. “But if you’re into rough trade, that’s cool. She’s on Deck 4, North. N134. It’s a single.” “Thanks, man! Appreciate it!” I manage to get out of the compartment only a little buzzed from the smoke. And the beer… been awhile since I had any. Now I have to track down Weird Name Lady with the Killer Stilettos.

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VIS Chapter 3 Max hasn’t called back, I notice, as I look at my mobile comp. That’s odd. He’s usually pretty quick to get back to me. I ride up the lift to Level 4, one of the main dormitory levels in the Habitat. Various smells assail me as I exit the lift; its doors sigh shut behind me slowly. Voices echo down the corridor; I check to see what number range I’m at and then walk down the gray-painted tube, feet making faint metallic ringing sounds on the footing grids. I finally find number 134—it’s as anonymous as the others; basically a small metal cube in the bulkhead. Some of them are larger than others—but the Company makes up for that largess by stuffing more humans in the larger ones. If you want privacy here, you pay for it. I tap the sensor next to the hatch and it buzzes softly. Stays red. I tap it again, impatiently. Wait for several moments; a couple runs past me down the long corridor, apparently late for something. I smell alcohol on them and their gait is pretty unsteady; hope they’re not late for work. Go to work drunk in the mines and we’ll end up sending what’s left after the accident out into the darkness of space in a little container. I shake my head and try the sensor again. Still nothing. I query the comp to see if anyone’s inside the compartment—one of the perks of being the sheriff, I reckon—and it helpfully tells me someone’s inside. “Ok, Miss Vespania Von Drehle or Bitch or whatever your name is,” I mutter. “Time to wakeywakey.” I bang my hand on the door loudly. “OK, wake up! I’m Sheriff Hudson, gotta talk with you.” I wait, tapping my foot impatiently. Still nothing, damn it. An especially strong whiff of curry swirls down the corridor, making my stomach rumble. “Hmm.” OK, won’t open on your own, I’ll do the legal thing and get a warrant… the comp swiftly does so and I key the sensor to override. It bings softly and opens; I walk in, announcing myself again. “Sheriff Hudson…” The first thing I spot is a stiletto heeled shoe, lying on the deck. Strap’s broken… then the stench hits me. Immediately, I flash back to one of the last battlefields I had the unfortunate luck to exist on. It always smells the same, with just slight variations. Here, there’s no cordite or smoke, just the bright copper tang of blood and the sewer scent of a dead human. It’s not real dignified. I clench my fists, willing myself back to the present, trying to forget the raspy breathing sounds my LT had been making when she died in my arms. Here, I’m here, I think. Leave that in the past. I shudder and open my eyes, walking further into the small compartment. She’s there, surrounded by shreds of clothing, her arms tied tightly behind her back. Whoever did it knew what they were doing; her chest has arched outward since her elbows are tied together. She’s sitting up, eyes wide but glazed. The expression on her face is one I won’t forget any time soon. Just to make sure, I kneel down, trying to avoid the blood and body fluids as best I can, and feel for a pulse in the neck. Nothing. Her hands have turned purple… she’s also livid on the backs of her thighs. She’s been sitting there, staring off into nothing, for hours. She’s already stiff and cool. Not too much blood. “What the hell happened to you? All I need, another damn murder…” I stop myself, momentarily ashamed of myself. Here’s a dead woman, her life shut off by someone who

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VIS knows what they’re doing and probably enjoys it, and I’m complaining about MY day? “Sorry, lady,” I say quietly, like she can somehow hear me. I stand up slowly, looking around at the compartment. Her travel bag is spilled out all over the floor, mixing with everything else there. Not much to look at; looks like someone went through it though. I’m glad the hatch cycled shut after me; don’t need more rumors running wild right now. This could have been a bad john, or… I look down at her. There are two large puncture wounds on the right side of her neck, and two matching ones further down on one exposed breast. Blood’s congealed blackly around them, drawing my eyes to them like magnets. “Well, I’ll be double damned!” Using my comp, I call Doc. “Hey doc, no time for chat. Come on over to Level 4, compartment 134. Gotta situation.” She starts cussing. I don’t think she quit cussing the whole time she was walking over; she was still going a blue streak when she came in, keying herself through. And then she saw what was on the floor, and stopped, her mouth open and eyes widening. “Another???” I rub my forehead slowly. Headache’s back. “Yep. Look at the bite marks.” She bends down and carefully looks them over with a trained medical eye. “Yeah, looks almost like some of the bite marks on the first vic. What I could find of them. This one… she’s been more drained than he was, by a long shot. Cause of death probably exsanguination. I’ll have to do an autopsy to be sure, though. Been dead several hours.” “Yeah, figured that with the stiffness and discoloration. Less blood on the scene. Someone’s been through her belongings, too. Don’t know why.” I look over on the small table by the food unit. It’s messy; some clothes have been tossed there but there’s some bottles, paperwork. I sift through them with a stylus from my pants pocket, not wanting to touch anything with bare hands. “Left her ID papers. Some bills, a newsprint from, let’s see… last night.” The Habitat has its very own resident yellow journalist; our luck just can’t get much better. Tom Swift publishes what he calls a newsprint nightly, at his own expense. He more than makes up for it with the various personals and for sale ads in the crappy little thing. I’ve had to bust him a time or two for very overt solicitations in there, and he kinda watches what he puts in there now. Usual crap, rumors mostly. Sports. Very little from Earth; more news from other outposts and people making the transit through. “Interesting,” Doc says to herself and then looks up at me. She’s kneeling behind the second vic, looking at her bonds. “Look at these knots. Quite unique; this person knows how to do some serious rope work.” “Military training, doc?” I walk over and look, too. The knots aren’t like anything I’ve seen before, and I’ve done my share of rappelling. “Looks odd.” “Almost ritualized.” She sighs, levering herself to her feet. “I’ll make sure to take photos. And I guarantee you… this isn’t going in the comp, either.” 12

VIS “Aw, come on, doc.” I try to chuckle. “This chick’s been a working girl for eons. She just ran into the wrong john. That’s all. Why make more of it than…” and then I look down, see the expression on the dead woman’s face. Horror, revulsion, desperation, terror. And then I look at the bite marks. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I clear my throat. “On second thought… I second the motion. Keep it out of the comps for now.” “Wow, you actually agreeing with me?” She tosses her head. “Gotta write this down in my diary.” She types in a message on her comp, requesting a stretcher, body bag, and her two assistants. I raise my eyebrows at that, having read the message over her shoulder as she typed. “Don’t worry, Sarge. The two boys have less imagination than one whole hamster between them. They’ll be quiet about this. I’ve already threatened their procreative abilities sufficiently.” Yeah, I bet you did, Doc, I think to myself. Almost unwillingly, a small grin crosses my face. Her face lightens a little too. “OK, whatever you think, doc. Just get this back to your Tower of Solitude. Tell me if it’s the same perp.” “Will do.” Doc glances at me. “Headache back?” “Yeah.” I shrug. “I think it’s the least of my worries right now. Now I’m going to go track down Sally and see if she can tell me anything more, or Stan. They’re the last ones to see either of the vics alive.” “Be careful, Sarge,” Doc says quietly. “This is some bad shit.” “You’re telling me. I called Max on the QT and asked him some questions about the first one; he hasn’t gotten back to me about that, and now we have this…” I sigh. “When it rains…” “It pours. I know.” She shakes her head. “Just… be careful.” She looks away and I get the idea it would be good if I went about my business, which I do.

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VIS Chapter 4 “OK, Stan, you gotta help me out.” I sit down at the bar, shaking my head no at the pro-offered beer. With my headache, that’s the last thing I need. “Need some answers, man.” Stan wearily props his elbows on the fake wood of the bartop and finally puts the cloth and glass down. I think he’s been wiping the same glass with the same rag ever since the bar opened, but that’s ok. I’m not a health inspector. And I drink beer out of bottles here. He grunts, “Yeah, ok. So what’s up?” “You know the guy I was asking you and Sally about?” He nods and sighs deeply. “I need to know more about what he did the night before.” “Hell, Sheriff, I’m just the bartender.” He shakes his head slowly from side to side, his unshaven jowls quivering. “All I do is serve ‘em up cold.” “Well, this guy’s growing cold, too, in the Doc’s freezer,” I reply, watching his face whiten. “And I need leads. Someone offed him, and I need to know why. Someone in this bar, apparently. Last night.” Stan clears his throat. “People like coming in here to blow off steam, Sheriff. Tired of the Company, tired of the law. Tired of rules, period. So I keep my nose out of other people’s business, and I stay happy.” It’s my turn to sigh. “Look, I’m not asking about the numbers games, or the hook-ups outside the officially sanctioned Company brothel on level 6. I’m not asking about the reefer you have under the bar, or how much you charge for it.” His face goes alabaster and a line of sweat breaks out on his forehead. I have his attention now. “What I’m asking for is a little wisdom from you. You’re good at observing people; you read them all the time. Tell me about the guy and who he was with. Tell me about Sally and her interaction with Miss Bitch. Anyone else acting hinky that night? More than usual?” Stan actually pulls up a barstool and sits down, still behind the bar. He rubs one meaty hand over his sweaty forehead and grunts. “Lemme see. It was a pretty busy night…” “Good for business. It’ll be bad for business if I do a search in here and have to shut the place down.” I’m playing hardball now. Two bodies on one shift has made me grumpy and my head’s throbbing violently. What I’d really like to do is grab Stan from behind the bar, twist an arm behind his back and see how long he squeals before he finally spills the beans. “OK, ok. I get it.” He sounds almost surly but then quickly schools his face into the usual friendly bar tender look. “OK. Um, the guy, what’s his name, he was hanging out with Sally. She was puttin’ the moves on his ass pretty good and I figured they’d be hitting the sack before long. Then Miss Bitch intervened, and we almost had us a big ole cat fight.” Stan chuckles. “Love to see them bitches go at each other, all that hair pullin’ and screamin’…” “Yeah. Sounds great,” I say. “Then what happened?”

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VIS He thinks for a moment, forehead scrunching up. Must not be accustomed to it, I think to myself. “Ah, well, Sally stormed off to the girl’s room. Miss Bitch got all nasty on the dance floor with ole what’s his name. He could barely dance, he was so drunk, but man, she could move. Then… let’s see. The bar was crowded and me and the girls was busy…” He looks down at the old cigar box he keeps his receipts (and a stun gun, I know) in. “Let’s see. Oh, yeah. Before they left, they went over and sat with this chick. She was okay looking, nothing special. But her tastes for liquor… she ordered whatever brandy I had. Don’t carry much fancy stuff. Mostly whiskey, tequila and beer. But she ordered the whole bottle. So I made sure I made a profit,” Stan grins. “I charged her out the butt for it… lemme see… yep, 150 credits. Here’s the lovely little receipt.” He pulls it out triumphantly and I take it. Made out on the account of… Camilla Parker. OK. Who the hell is that? I wonder. Must have a little stashed away if she can drop 150 credits on one lousy bottle of hootch. Probably wasn’t even good brandy, just whatever off brand Stan had ordered once upon a time. I pocket the receipt. Stan looks worriedly at me… “You don’t think it’ll bounce, do ya, Sheriff?” He looks behind him to the dusty shelves where his collection of liquor bottles resides. “That was my only bottle of brandy…” “I think you’ll be fine. And no, if it was going to bounce, it would’ve when you processed it right then. There’s no delay code on the print out. So you should be fine.” I stand up and smile. “Thanks for the info. I’ll keep your helpful attitude in mind, Stan.” “Thanks, Sheriff. And about that other stuff… um…” He looks worried. “I just keep tabs on all sorts of shit, Stan. Part of the job. Keep your nose clean and I’ll try to stay out of your side businesses as much as I can. Got it?” He nods happily and I leave the dimly lit bar. A few patrons look up blearily as I walk out, but instantly return to their drinks and whatever else they’re doing. It’s no news that the Sheriff was visiting the bar. Again. Instead of visiting Stoner Dude again, I go back to my office, turn on the fan that’s above my desk to move the stale air around, check in on sleeping roommate—still snoring—and then tiredly sit down at my desk comp and look up the last shipping invoice from the shuttle. It’s more difficult than asking the agent, but with as stoned as he was, this may be faster. I don’t type well, more one-andtwo fingered pecking, but eventually I find the list and look it over. Camilla Parker, who are you, I wonder to myself. Ah, here you are. I smile at the vidscreen as her Company photo pops up. Not too bad looking… maybe transit hadn’t been kind to her when Stan saw her. Thin face, black hair… large blue eyes stare levelly back at me. Thin lips, not much color to her face. A fancy necklace… and a small red snake tattoo on the left side of her neck, just at the collar line. Interesting. Got a few tat’s myself while in the Corps but of course nothing that shows outside the uniform. They frown on that and you end up with extra duty. Not for me. I send the photo and her points of transit to myself and to Doc, and after checking on roommate again, I walk to Doc’s office.

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VIS She’s in the freezer area, bent over the second vic’s body intently. I clear my throat at the door and with her free hand (her right hand’s holding a laser scalpel), she waves me in. “Come look at this…” “If I have to…” I say slowly. Even in the freezer, the slightly sweet but sewer-like smell of decomp assails my nose. “Do I have to?” “Well, you’re the one coming to visit, and this is your second body of the day, so you might want to, you big lug,” Doc growls over her mask. With her free hand, she again gestures but this time to a box on a metal tray, containing more masks. I put one on and stand next to her, looking down at the opened body of the girl. Close up, doesn’t really look human anymore; more like beef that’s been slaughtered. I frown and try to focus on what Doc wants to show me. “Look here… those bite marks were incredibly deep. I’ve incised down along the bite wounds, and look how far in they go. They reached major blood vessels alright. She must have bled out in moments. But where’d it go?” “Are you damn sure they’re bite marks? Couldn’t it be some sort of… I dunno… a tool? Some weapon you or I haven’t seen before?” I know as I’m saying this, with a sort of sick certainty, what Doc’s going to say, and when she replies, it’s confirmed. She puts the scalpel down and looks directly at me. “Those are bite wounds, not wounds from a weapon. And whoever bit her, consumed the blood or did something with it. There’s not enough blood at that scene to account for this girl bleeding out. And that’s how she died.” She tosses the scalpel into a cleanser and, moving away from the eviscerated body, takes her mask down. “I know that much. Same-same for your first vic, although there’s so much more physical damage. I found bite marks on his chest near his heart area, and a piece of his neck was intact enough, I found one bite mark there. Everything else was too… torn apart to be very useful.” “Jesus, what do we have here, Doc?” I feel sick inside and my temples pound away. “A serial killer? On a Company Habitat?” “Take off your mask and come here, sit down…” she commands, and I find myself obeying. She brings me another damn paper cup and pills. “Take these.” I look up at her face, think about arguing, and then a twinge at my right temple makes me close my eyes briefly. Sweat breaks out on my face, and I swallow the pills and the tepid water quickly, forcing them down. “How long have the headaches been back, Archer?” Her voice is softer than usual, which is surprising. I open my eyes and see concern written on her face. That, and tiredness. “Oh, hell, they’re not…” I sigh and catch the look in her eyes. “OK, about a month. Comes and goes.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” She brushes her hair back from face and adjusts her glasses. “You and I go so far back, Archer. Why didn’t you tell me?” Some things you can’t tell anyone, something whispers in my mind. Not anyone. “I know you and I are dinosaurs, Holly. I know. And you know more about me than anyone else in the world, anyone alive, that is. I just… didn’t want to talk about shit like this. They’ll go away.” 16

VIS “Like hell they will. You’ve had serious shrapnel wounds to your head, I was there, remember?” God, do I remember. We’d lost over half the platoon that day, fighting the damned mutant things down below 42nd Street in what used to be New York City, used to be, that is, before it was fried by about 5 neutron bombs. The mutants were hungry, and they wanted fresh meat… the humans that had been lucky enough to be in the bomb shelters were desperate too, maybe desperate enough to eat each other, too. We’d been inserted a week before… Being well-trained, well-equipped and highly motivated Devil Dogs hadn’t helped too much. We were constantly being attacked or constantly pulling real humans out of bad situations. Very little sleep—too many pep pills. We kept going deeper and deeper into the subway system, eventually breaking through to a really ancient tunnel with an old rail line. Found a whole mess of mutants there; someone had armed them and they were ready for us. Typical ambush; the brand new second lieutenant with the tiny blond mustache so proudly grown on his upper lip was one of the first to buy it. I assumed command immediately and tried to set up some good fields of fire, but hell, in a tunnel, with lots of openings on either side of you, you don’t have a lot of choice firepoints. I tried next to pull the platoon back, to regroup, but some of the more hyper kids had run off after the mutants, down a side tunnel, cheering away… they didn’t come back. Didn’t answer their coms, either, and when we found them, we realized it’s hard to call for help when you don’t have throats anymore. That was the first time that day I puked. Not the last. The stink of explosives, cordite and blood filled the heavy, still air down there and made it harder to breath. We were hyperventilating anyway with combat stress. Grenades were going off; we found mutants didn’t like them much. Vasquez was on the grenade launcher; she could put one down anywhere she wanted. I kept directing her fire, and regrouping the surviving Marines around us. We found an old, old subway car—mostly wooden—rotting on the tracks and made that our tiny Alamo. When Vasquez’s head rolled between my boots, I barfed again. Bending over saved my sorry ass, since that’s when the mutant who’d killed her shot towards me with an RPG. All I remember after that is hearing a loud nothing. I realized I was sitting down on Vasquez and got up, apologizing to her. I knew she’d be pissed off. Then I remembered she was dead. I found my weapon; it found the mutant with its thermal imaging sight and I took it out. The mutant—still sort of human looking but not much—was splattered all over the stone subway wall by the .50 caliber rounds. I kept firing. I couldn’t hear a thing; my head felt funny. I almost took Corporal Smithers out when she grabbed my left shoulder, turning me around, but she also knocked the barrel of my rifle up with hers. I could see her face in the combat camera—the shield still intact over my face with its familiar HUD—but I couldn’t hear what she was yelling. Finally, I tapped where my helmet should have been, to indicate a com failure, but the helmet wasn’t there, and my gloved hand came away all bloody. What the hell, I thought, and fainted. I woke up in one of the upper level tunnels, with Doc leaning over me, cussing away, and pulling metal out of my head with tweezers. She finally finished—it hurt like hell—and then she wrapped a pressure bandage around my skull, and jabbed 17

VIS a very large needle into my arm. I woke up about three weeks later in a Marine hospital in North Carolina with a very sore head. And very bad memories. I shake my head and look down at the floor for a long moment, gathering my thoughts. “It’s ok. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the meds.” Holly sighs deeply. “Still the same stubborn bastard, aren’t you? Will you at least let me scan your empty head, to see if any more shrapnel is rattling around in there?” Sounds like the Doc I’m used to! I nod, slowly. “If it won’t take much time. I have a lead on the other woman—besides Miss B in there on your slab—that I need to track down.” Doc gets up, grabs my arm in a very strong grip, and basically drags me over to the scanner couch. “Lie down. Take your stun gun off. Any other metal, besides the scrap iron in that empty Jarhead?” “No… well, yeah.” I dig into a side pocket. “Brass knuckles.” “That it?” She stands with her hands on her hips. “Um…” I reach down to my boots. “Knife. And my belt buckle is a laser-guided missile.” “Shut up!” She takes the weapons carefully—being a Marine, after all—and places them on a counter top. “Lie still. Or else.” “Or else what?” I grin up at her. “Gonna sit on top of me?” She keys in a sequence into the scanner and looks down in disdain at me. “In your wildest wet dream. I mean it, lie still or I’ll be here all day.” The scanner hums for a moment or two and then she looks over at the large vidscreen on the bulkhead. An image of my skull—not empty, thank you very much—shows up with some small bright spots showing up on it. She taps them and the vidscreen promptly magnifies them, one after the other. She grunts softly and then turns to me. “You got trouble, Sarge.” “I always have trouble. So what’s new?” I sit up. “What’s this?” I gesture towards the screen. “Leftovers?” “Yeah,” Doc says. “Large ones. Looks like a couple have moved from the last time you were scanned, and at least one is too damn close to an artery. I need to remove it.” She walks toward the hatchway that leads into the infirmary—a row of narrow beds with compsets built in. “No, wait a minute. I agreed to a scan, not surgery!” I get to my feet, restore my weapons to their various homes. “I have a case to solve. Go do surgery on someone else. Maybe later for me.” “If you wait too long, it’ll be too late and I’ll be doing the same Y incision I did on Miss Thang in there, but on you.” Her voice shakes a little, which is odd, I think. Well, we’ve both been under some stress.

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VIS “Let me track this shit down, and I promise, I’ll let you play around with your little instruments on my skull soon. I ain’t endin’ up on that damn table in the freezer room, that’s for fucking sure.” I stare at her. “Just sayin’.” We lock eyes for a long, long moment and then she nods a little. “See ya, Doc!” Chapter 5 “Dammit, Max, answer your damn phone. Where are you, lying around on your lazy Squid ass?” I snarl in my best Gunnery Sergeant tones, and then hang up the comp, wishing Max had answered. This makes the third time in several hours I’ve called him, and it’s just not like him not to answer or at least call or text me back. Max and I go way back, back to my first squad in the Corps. He was the platoon corpsman. Of course, that meant he was Navy, so we had a great friendly rivalry going. Some guys dissed him because he was a flaming fairy boy, but when the shit hit the fan, Marines quit worrying about who slept with who (or what) and started wanting excellent medical care. And Max was excellent as a corpsman. Excellent as a man, too, once I got to know him well. Very plump, very blond, with a cute little blond mustache he grew to try to make himself look more butch… he was hilarious to be around when you needed a laugh and damn good to be around when arteries were splashing and limbs were torn. Being the queen he was, I was surprised at first to see that he didn’t bat an eyelash at blood and guts. That was my misperception. I learned better. He could save you if anyone could… and he saved a lot of my Marines. We grew to respect him and then to love him. It was back in one of the last surface battles we had with the mutants, I remember, closing my eyes for a moment and leaning against the bulkhead of the corridor. My head’s tired, and my stomach’s rumbling; need to eat soon. I was hungry that day, too… our rations had run out; the last supply ship in had been taken out with a ground to air missile, so they just quit sending us crap for a while. We lived off the land the best we could, but after a week or so, we were down to just about nothing for rations, and ammo. Max had hung on to all the medical supplies he could beg, borrow, scrounge or steal, though and he always had some crackers or a candy bar… so I walked over to where he was sitting, leaning against a brick wall. The building had been some sort of big landmark place… some kinda tower or high rise, can’t remember its name. Anyway… I squatted down next to Max, and bummed some beef jerky and a couple of crackers off him. “Payback, man…” He laughed. “How about a nice big steak, mashed potatoes, and a good bottle of wine, back in the Land?” “Sure thing, Max. Just promise, you won’t get me drunk and then play ‘Oops, I dropped the soap’ with me in the head…” I say through a mouthful of jerky. “Sarge, Sarge… honey, you’re just not my type. I like ‘em nice and hairy. I’m a bear lover!” He repacks his kit and stands up, swinging his 741 gear and pack to his shoulders. “You’re just too clean-shaven for me, baby. Maybe some other lifetime…” 19

VIS The platoon locks and loads and moves out… single file through the rubble. No birds, no cats, no dogs, no rats. Just us and the goddamn mutants. The broken shards of glass scrunch beneath my boots, and I call out a low command on the com circuit. “Stay off the trails, you dumb mothers… they’re mined, we learned that last week. Or do your brains not retain that much mem—“ Just behind me, there’s a huge blast and then things are hitting me as I hit the deck. You learn to make yourself very small and stay in one place when there are IEDs buried around you. I freeze and then hear a low moaning sound behind me. I turn to see Max on the ground. Well, most of Max is on the ground, my mind slowly registers. Some of him is just… gone. “Sarge… Sarge…” he whispers, blood bubbling around his lips, staining his blond mustache. “I stepped on it, Sarge…” The bright shocking smell of blood fills my mouth and nose and I gag, slightly. “Jesus, Max!” I carefully crawl closer… part of my mind is screaming, Ambush! Ambush! This would be perfect for an ambush! I key my com unit and tell the new platoon leader, “Lieutenant Smithers, get ready, the mutes will hit us at any moment… I’m dealing with a casualty.” Smithers acknowledges nervously and sets out the Jarheads in a good perimeter—slightly too far apart for my likes, but she’s the LT. She can learn her trade like I learned mine. I inch closer to Max and he tries to wave me away weakly with his right hand. “Stay back, Sarge. I mean it. You know how they set another one nearby…” He chokes on blood, coughs, spits out some teeth. He fumbles toward the back on his back, trying to reach it. “I’ll just put a tourniquet on, I’ll be fine. Stay the fuck back from me.” “Shut up.” I crouch next to him. “Where’s the damn tourniquet?” I try not to look at the wreck of his legs. Most of both legs is missing… above the knee. “I need to know where shit is, man…” “In the pack, on the top…”He whispers. “I always have it on the top, since we need it so often. And I could use some morphine, Archer.” Him using my first name makes me work all the harder at getting his pack off, open and finding the tourniquet. “It’s ok, Max. Here they are, I’ll get ‘em on and you’ll feel better.” I rip open the packaging and quickly tie the tourniquets up around his mid-thigh area. “It’s gonna hurt when I pull them tight. Hang on, Squid, and try not to scream, if you can…” He nods, closing his eyes and putting a hand on my shoulder. “Do it.” I tighten the ropes as much as I can, quickly. He shudders but never says a word. I find the morphine injector and dial it to the maximum dosage level. “Here’s some dream juice. Just think Key West or Castro Street, honey.” I jam it into his right arm, above the elbow. He shudders again, and smiles weakly at me. “Never thought you paid THAT much attention to my boy toy stories, honey… you must be a little interested…” His smile fades into the paleness of his face; his head falls forward onto my chest, and he snores a little. I sit him back up and call the LT. 20

VIS “Get a medevac, ASAP, or he won’t be WIA, he’ll be KIA.” The LT looks across the way at us and shakes her head no. “What?” I bellow into the mike, forgetting mutants, and everything else. This is my friend that’s dying here, a man who saves our lives on a daily basis. I’m furious. She shakes her head no again and then points with her rifle… downrange. There are about 80 mutants running and crawling toward us, an undulating mass of non-human-ness. My mouth goes dry and I feel like someone just dumped a bucket of ice in my gut. I check my weapon—ready to go—and make sure Max is lying down, stumps propped up on his pack. I signal one of the replacements—a new kid named Jones—to come over and sit near him. “You make sure he keeps breathing. Got me? If we have to run, you make damn sure you carry him. I don’t care if you toss your pack, but you carry your rifle and this corpsman to hell if I say so. Got me, Marine?” The boy nods rapidly, his eyes huge behind the HUD screen in front of his helmet. I turn to the mutant problem… and begin solving it the best way I know how—by killing all of them. My rage focuses on them instead of the new LT and eventually we’re in the clear, surrounded by dozens of newly-dead mutes. A couple of Jarheads have minor wounds, thankfully nothing their buddies can’t take care of. The LT calls in a dustoff and the last I see of Max is a couple of guys tossing him into the bird. He waved slowly as the other wounded climbed in, and then the chopper takes off in a blinding cloud of debris. I wipe my forehead with my left hand, noticing it’s shaking. Does that sometimes when the memories are too strong. It comes away wet with sweat. I reckon all this killing has triggered these memories from the past. I try to keep them stuffed down inside. They don’t seem to do me much good, that’s for damn sure. I straighten up, and wipe my hand on my trousers. Back to this time and this fuck up, I think. Enough of the old shit… I make my way to Level 7, where Camilla Parker’s staying, according to my records. It’s a fancier level; deeper in is better on this habitat. Outer layers get zapped with cosmic rays; the further in you are, the more shielded you are. And the more you pay for quarters. Nice of the Company to care about us so much, I think. The deck’s even nicely painted, and the walls don’t have those indefinable smudges of crap that the upper levels have all over them. Smells better, too; the air is cooler. Must be nice. “Yes,” someone female-sounding answers when I query the compartment. “May I help you?” “Camilla Parker, I’m Sheriff Hudson, and I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.” I wait and then the door slides into the bulkhead, allowing me inside. It’s a little dim for me and I stand at the entrance, blinking a little. I smell some nice perfume, some sort of flowery thing—never known much about fancy gal stuff—and then I see her. She’s standing near the entrance to the small galley, a cup of something in one hand, the other hand on her hip. Assurance seems to seep out of her somehow and she’s smiling whitely at me. “Do come in, Sheriff. I’ll be glad to help in any way I can,” Camilla purrs, her voice a husky contralto. Part of me is instantly very aware of her as a woman, and I roughly shove those thoughts out of my

21

VIS conscious thinking. Don’t have time for games, and I’ve seen plenty of women (and men) use the old attraction thing to confuse issues. I walk further in, and look around. Her apartment’s tasteful in a refined sort of way; the bulkheads painted a soft blue with deep white carpet underfoot. Her things are put away out of sight; a couple of newspapers sit on the table in the living area, and I smell chamomile tea as she walks past me, that and her perfume. She’s almost my height—1.8 meters or so—and moves like a ballerina. Not the usual type of woman up here on the Habitat, I think, and follow her into the living area. She sits on one of the couches and gestures toward the spot next to her. “Please, sit. Some tea, perhaps?” I sit down across from her on the loveseat. “No thanks, maybe some other time.” We look at each other and she meets my gaze directly, maybe too directly. There’s just something… I realize the hair on the back of my neck has begun to bristle and I wonder why. I know to listen to those signals, though… “I have a few questions for you, ma’am.” “Yes?” She sips her tea. And waits. This is one cool character, I think to myself. Cool… more like cold as ice. “Well, I hear you spent some time last night with Frankie and Vespania. At the bar.” “Oh, dear, those two.” She grimaces. “Yes, I remember them. They were both quite… inebriated.” “That’s what most people do in bars. They get inebriated.” I look her over, checking for any marks on hands, arms… nothing. “What’d you three talk about last night?” “Really, is that actually police business, Sheriff?” She laughs. “I wouldn’t think so, as much as was going on at the bar while I was there.” “Well, it just turns out that they both ended up dead. And I’d like to know what you talked about.” She sets her tea cup down carefully and then looks at me from under blonde bangs. “Dead? Oh my goodness, how awful!” Somehow, lady, you sound really, really insincere, I think. “Yep, dead as doornails. So what did you talk about?” Still trying the under-the-bang coy look, she pouts. Then looks a little confused when I don’t start drooling or pawing at her feet. Her eyes, however, stay very direct and very cold. She smiles slowly, thinking. “Well, Sheriff, we talked about several things. Brandy… the Habitat, how boring it is… sex. We thought about a three-some but really, he was just too drunk. She wasn’t so bad, though, so we made a date for… later.” “Just how much later?” I lean forward, intentionally crowding her some. To my surprise, she leans forward too… most people have a definite area of social comfort space, and don’t like it when you crowd them. They’ll lean away and often tell you things just to get you out of 22

VIS their space. She doesn’t—she responds more aggressively and invades my space right back. “I fucked her last night. Vespania was… delicious. And I think that’s all I have to say about this to you, unless you have a warrant. Do you?” “No.” I smile toothily at her. “I was hoping you’d be more cooperative. The killer or killers may want to visit you, too, honey.” She stands up suddenly. “I can take care of myself, Sheriff. And I think we’re done here.” “Well, ma’am, if you want to be that way, that’s ok. I’m sure it’s… upsetting… to hear that two of your play buddies are dead.” I stand up and look straight into her eyes. “For most people, it’s pretty upsetting.” “I’m not most people,” Camilla sneers, “Sheriff. I think you’ve figured that much out. And I’m late for some appointments. Please show yourself out.” As the door sighs shut behind me, I breathe out deeply. I’d been feeling like I was holding my breath in there, and find that my palms are all sweaty again. There’s just something about that woman that made my skin crawl, and I can’t place it. And talk about being non-cooperative. Jesus. Have to figure some other tactic out… maybe I should’ve taken up hydroponics on Venus like my high school counselor recommended.

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VIS Chapter 6 “Sheriff Hudson?” “Yeah,” I mumble through a piece of pizza. “That’s who you’re talkin’ to. Who’s this? You’ve got a privacy filter on.” I glare at the comp and finish chewing, washing the greasy pizza down with a swig of beer. “This is…”There’s a long pause. “A friend. A friend of Max’s.” I hear a tremor in the man’s voice. “OK, friend of Max’s, what’s up? And where the hell is Max?” I set the beer bottle down slowly. This guy’s voice sounds really upset. “Turn the damn vid on so I can see you, man.” The screen flashes on and I see a young man’s face, haggard in the early morning light on Earth. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. I just didn’t… I don’t know.” He sighs and begins again. “I’m Cal, I’m Max’s boyfriend. Or I was.” “OK…” I’m sitting there, the pizza congealing into a hard ball of heartburn in my stomach. The beer doesn’t help. “You guys break up or something?” “Um, Sheriff…” He looks down, away from the camera. “Max is dead.” The air whuffs out of me like someone’s gut-punched me. I feel the blood drain from my face. “What?” “He had a note here to call you if anything happened. So I’m calling you. I don’t know who the hell you are, but he had a photo of you two in his wallet, too. So whatever old flame you are, I’m doing what he said to do, and he said to tell you he’s dead, and that things are, what’d he say, ‘boo-koo dinky dow.’ Or something like that.” Beaucoup dinky-dow. That’s old Corps-speak, from back in the 20th century, when we fought a nasty little war in a country called Vietnam. They’d been occupied by the French, before us, and combined French with Vietnamese when we learned their lingo. It means really crazy, things are really crazy. And Max is dead? My mind reels. “We weren’t lovers, we were buddies back in the Wars,” I say slowly, looking into the young man’s face on the screen. “He loved me and I loved him, and you’re telling me he’s dead. How’d he die?” Cal’s voice shook as tears stream down his face. “A car hit him as we were going out to eat. We didn’t see it coming… the traffic hasn’t been as bad since people have been leaving, so we thought it was ok to walk to the restaurant.” Traffic in New New York has always been bad, but in the last ten years or so, you’re literally taking your life into your hands when you walk out on the street. Why would Max chance it? “Look, kid, I know how bad things are there; I used to live there before I left,” I say. “But Max knew it too. Why the fuck would you try to walk to a restaurant there? Why not just get a lift?” “He said it’d be ok, that he wanted to do it…” the boy says quietly. “I… I don’t know what to do…” 24

VIS “Where is Max?” The practical part of my mind wants to know… I want to make sure he’s been well taken care of. Inside, there’s a small screaming voice building in intensity but I savagely shut it down. I’ll have time for that later. I drink another gulp of beer. “Where’d they take him?” “The Veteran’s Hospital on 43rd. They declared him dead there, and then they pulled his will, and showed me what it said. So we did what it said.” Cal looks at me and wipes his blue eyes with a shirt cuff. “We cremated him and placed him in an urn at the Corps Memorial in Central Park.” “Jesus, already?” There’s no way I could’ve gotten back there in any sort of decent time, but still… “Yes, sir,” Cal answers. “It’s what he’d written down.” “Don’t call me sir, I work for a living,” I grind out automatically. He looks confused. “Sorry, I’m an old Marine Gunnery Sergeant, son, don’t call me ‘sir’. In fact, just call me Archer. We can be first name basis, I think, Cal.” He smiles wanly. “I never did understand all that military stuff. I’m a dancer, not a fighter, Archer. And I’m just… broken-hearted.” His sobs begin again and I look away, momentarily, to give him a modicum of privacy, even if it’s virtual. “Yeah, I’m sure you are, Cal.” I try to sound kind. I don’t even know this kid; didn’t know Max had a new boyfriend. He’d had one for years until Frenchy died of cancer; I attended that funeral and let Max stay a few days over at my place to recover emotionally. But Cal was news… Max hadn’t told me about him. “Listen, Cal… if you need anything, any friend of Max’s is a friend of mine, ok?” “I hate to just call and tell you this, sir… I mean, Sergeant… um, Archer.” He stumbles over the words hesitantly. “I just hated to call… with news like this.” He sighs deeply. “Max left me pretty well off. He’s, I mean, he’d been saving money for years.” “Good. Like I said, though, you need anything, you call me, ok?” I try to smile. “Max was a great guy.” Inside, I’m wondering if I still know anyone on the New New York police force, who might help me track down the son of a bitch who ran Max down. My expression must have hardened, since Cal looks suddenly surprised on the vid. “Oh, ok. I will. There’s a package coming to you on the next shuttle, too. Max had said to send it to you that way. It’s got a security seal on it so I’m not sure what it is. But if he said to send it to you, that’s what I was going to do.” He tries to smile too. “Um, Archer?” “Yeah, kid.” “Um… any job openings out there at the Habitat?” “For you?” “Yeah… I just…” His voice cracks. “There’s nothing here for me now. I can do office work, mix drinks, dance… I don’t know. I just don’t want to stay here anymore. And I don’t have any family. Max was all I had, and he’s… gone.” 25

VIS “Let me check around. I might find something for you,” I say, wondering what in the world I’m doing. What the hell is a kid like Cal going to do on a mining Habitat, besides be a boy toy? No, Sarge, think, damn it. Maybe you can help this kid. Helping kids is part of being a sergeant, whether or not you’re a retired old fart or not. “I’ll ask around. I can probably get you on a shuttle. You have any problems with cryo-sleep?” “Never done it. I’m an Earth-bound boy, so far…” He looks a little brighter. “I’m not scared, if that’s what you mean.” “Naw, that’s not what I mean. I’ll see what I can do, Cal. And thanks for being brave enough to call me with shitty news. Max must have really liked you. I’ll talk with you soon.” I wave and then cut off the com unit. My head sinks into my arms and I let myself cry for a couple of minutes at my kitchen table, pushing cold pizza and stale beer aside. Even sergeants cry.

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VIS Chapter 7 “So, ready for brain surgery?” Doc chuckles as I walk in the door, but then stops when she sees my eyes. “What’s wrong?” “Max is dead.” I sit down by her desk, holding her eyes with mine. Hers fill with tears and then she angrily blinks them away. “How?” “Hit by a mystery car… in New New York.” I cross my arms. “I know, I know. No one should be walking in that city unless they have a death wish. But he told his boyfriend he wanted to, so they did. And someone clipped him.” Holly runs her hands through her hair; wipes her eyes on her sweater sleeve, then clears her throat. She’s like me, I think; she’s stuffing it down inside until later, if ever. No time for it now. “Ok, Archer. That just doesn’t add up. After Max lost his legs, and became a cop, he was one of the most safetyconscious guys I knew. What was he thinking?” “He told Cal—his boyfriend—to tell me things were beaucoup dinky-dow.” I sigh. “So something’s up. He’s also sending me a packet—security sealed—on the next shuttle. It’s due in…” I look at my comp. “Sixteen hours. They’ve pushed up the shuttle schedule since they opened that huge vein of ultra-dense whatever-it-is. Company really, really wants this stuff, in the most serious way.” “Well, think about it for a minute. This ultra-dense mineral deposit is better than uranium or plutonium for the Mustang engines in the shuttles. You can load the reactors once every 250 years, for God’s sake. And the energy return is astronomical…” “OK, ok. Enough technical mumbo-jumbo. All I know is the Company wants it, they’ve started a third shift, and they’re sending technical experts and miners left and right. The shuttle schedule’s been tripled, and those trips ain’t cheap.” I look Holly over. “Never knew you were such a geek, Holly.” “Yeah, that’s me. A geek.” She sips at her almost-ever-present coffee. It smells good, better than the beer and pizza I tried to eat earlier. “So how’d the interview go with the other gal?” “Oh, my God. You wouldn’t believe her. Tried the whole seduction thing with me,” I start and then grin at Holly’s obvious reaction. You’d think she was jealous, part of my mind whispers. Of you! What a hoot. “Yep, did the whole look-under-the-bang, bat-the-big-eyelashes, come-sit-near-me-big-boy routine. Old news. I tried to get some answers out of her; all I got was the other two were drunk, she screwed the woman, and if I want to talk with her again, I need a warrant.” “Really?” Holly looks angry. “A warrant?” “Yep.” I grin. “I reckon I’ll go back to my office and come up with some legal double-speak, and make a warrant go through the damn judicial comp. I can usually get them to go through somehow…” Holly stands up, crossing her arms and pacing in the small space she has available. “No…” 27

VIS “No? Holly, I need answers, and that woman has them. She’s the last one to be seen with both victims, and she’s the main… person of interest. How else am I going to get answers from her?” Doctor Holly Marten turns to me with a wicked, wide smile on her face. “Through me.” Uh-oh, I think, I’ve seen that smile before, and it doesn’t bode well for whoever she’s got in mind… “OK, Doc, so what’s your plan?” She walks over to her desk comp unit and quickly types something in. The comp pauses for a brief moment and then bings softly as a list appears on the vid screen. “You know, Miss Camilla Parker didn’t show up for her mandatory post-arrival medical screening.” “You almost always let that slide on most people…” “Yeah, but not her.” She smiles again. “You see, she might have something contagious! Or she could have an allergy she doesn’t know about. We have to protect our Habitat health status, Sheriff. I think I’ll have to have you bring her in immediately for a very thorough, full health screening. Have to keep her in isolation until we’re done. And that could take… time.” She taps the comp and it goes back to sleep. I grin. Sometimes Holly Marten can be one of the most devious, delightful women I’ve ever known. And she’s smarter than me, most of the time. “Sounds fine to me, Doc. I’ll go get her right away. Can’t have any risk of contagious disease in the Habitat.” “Be careful, Archer.” Her smile runs away. “She’s dangerous.” “You haven’t even met her yet.” “No, but if she’s the person I’m thinking she is… then she’s a sociopath. And that makes her dangerous. You’ve met those types before. Everything is theirs, all the rules are for them… we’re just pawns, or prey.” Her voice is cold. “Objects, not real people. And they have no conscience, like most of us do. So if they have to do something… regrettable, well, so be it. It’s fine if it advances their cause, or needs, or desires. And this woman sounds just like that.” I don’t know if that’s a jealous woman talking, I think, or a trained doctor, or a Marine officer. No matter which version of Holly is talking, I know she’s being honest and she’s very intuitive. So you better listen, you old warhorse. I nod at her. She crosses her arms again, almost hugging herself. “Please, don’t underestimate her. If she’s capable, somehow, of doing the things someone did to those bodies…” “Yeah. I know. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of her being a bad-ass.” I pat my pocket. “But I think I can handle her.” “Just don’t do a John Wayne on her and get yourself hurt, you dumb Leatherneck,” Holly mumbles, sitting back down at her desk, looking away from me. “I have enough work to do without that.”

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VIS Again, for some reason I don’t completely understand, I reach out and pat her shoulder gently. This time, she doesn’t snarl at me. I hold my hand there for a long moment and then walk out of her office. Inside, I feel sort of odd… it’s like seeing another side of a person you thought you knew all about. But I’ll think about that more tonight, once I have Camilla Parker in medical custody. The buzzer makes a soft noise and there’s no answer… I wait for a few moments, then try again. My comp tells me no one is inside, so I sigh and head over to the main dining hall. Maybe Parker got hungry, I think. The large dining facility is nice, since it’s on this level, and not too crowded. Most miners can’t afford to eat here just like they can’t afford the rooms on this level. I don’t eat here much myself, on my salary. I nod at the manager and she looks me over rather disdainfully. I’m still in my work khakis and boots, so I’m sure I don’t quite meet the dress code here, but what the hell. I’m working. Smells of good food and expensive win waft through the room, as classical music plays over the speakers. I scan the room and spot Camilla over against one bulkhead, alone at a candle-lit table. Her blonde hair is limned in the soft light and part of me—the horny guy part—says, “Heeeey, baby!” But then I remember her eyes, and the coldness of her voice, and the horny guy decides to take a vacation. The tough Marine part of me speaks up. “Miss Parker?” “Sheriff.” She’s eating a steak, rare. “Care to join me for a bite?” She smiles, slowly, but her eyes don’t. “No, ma’am. I’m here to escort you to the medical facility.” I sit down at her table, putting my elbows on the crisp white linen tablecloth. “You missed your post-arrival check. It’s important.” She laughs, a short, sharp bark. “Oh, please. No one enforces that…” “We do, here.” I smile. “I thought I’d give you a chance to walk out of here all dignified and whatnot. Or, you can resist, I’ll tase the hell out of you and then have a medical team carry you to the medical facility on a stretcher. Your choice, Miss Parker.” Camilla slowly, slowly puts the knife and fork down. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Wouldn’t I? I don’t have a lot to lose. You do.” “Is this absolutely necessary? Or is this your way of dealing with the fact that you don’t have any legal reason to detain me, Hudson?” “You’re right. Right now, I don’t have a legal reason to detain you. But the Habitat doctor does. And she’s pretty damn serious about contagion issues here. We all are. Like I said, your choice. On your own, or on a stretcher.” I pull the small stun gun out of my pocket and gently lay it on the tablecloth, my hand lightly over it. “What’s it gonna be, lady?” “Damn you.” She tosses her napkin onto her plate. I notice that the blood from the rare—very rare— steak soaks into the white napkin, and it reminds me of the two crime scenes for some reason. “Fine. Let’s go get this fucking medical thing done, and then maybe, just maybe, you’ll leave me alone.”

29

VIS “OK.” I stand up and so does she, moving very smoothly. She brushes her hair a little, finishes her wine. I gesture and she walks out of the dining hall in front of me; my hand’s tight on the stun gun as I watch her walk. If she runs, she’s stupid… not a lot of places to hide unless you get down into the mines, I think. But Holly’s right. This woman is dangerous, damn dangerous. My gut instincts tell me so, and they’re almost never wrong.

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VIS Chapter 8 “Miss Parker, please come in,” Doc Marten says smoothly. She’s clad in her official doctor uniform, I notice; white coat, hand-held body scanner clipped to one pocket, her comp in one hand, Parker’s transit form on the vid screen. She points toward one of the exam rooms. “This way, please.” Parker doesn’t even try to hide the sneer on her lips. “This is such a lame…” “Hmm. You may be fevered,” Doc murmurs. “I’m detecting a higher body temp than usual. I think it’ll need to be one of the isolation rooms, Miss. Not the regular exam room.” Camilla stops in her tracks. “What is this?” Her voice is icy. She looks from Holly back to me, her eyes widening in anger. “What the hell do you two think you’re doing? Do you know who I am?” “All I know is you may have a fever, you skipped the mandatory post-Shuttle medical exam, and I want you in the isolation room now. If you have trouble making your way there, we can assist you, Miss.” The two large goons that Holly uses for grunt labor in the medical clinic are lounging over in one corner, waiting, and watching. I smile. Camilla looks at them, then again at us. “You’ll pay for this, both of you. I’ll have your jobs and your pensions for this… this harassment.” “Whatever,” I grin. “Just do what the doctor is asking, and I’m sure this will all be cleared up soon.” Parker’s hands form fists, knuckles white against her already-pale skin. But she slowly walks into the isolation room being indicated by Holly’s hand, and sits on the exam bed. “It better be soon!” Holly winks at me, out of line of sight for Parker. She asks the larger of the two assistants—a woman named Helga, I remember—to accompany her, and they enter the isolation room after garbing themselves carefully in anti-virus suits. As they enter, wearing the clear suits, Parker’s eyes grow even larger, but more in surprise than anger. She’s surprised, so she’s off balance. Good. I sit down at Holly’s desk and wait, playing Solitaire on her desk comp. The exam takes a good hour, maybe a little more. There’s one thump that makes me turn suddenly, my hand reaching for the stun gun, placed back in my pocket earlier… Helga’s putting Camilla Parker on the exam bed, apparently for the second time, with a large grin on her face. Holly’s standing to one side, taking notes. Wonder what that was all about? Eventually, the hatch sighs open. “Good job, Helga. She almost got me with that slap,” Holly says conversationally to the larger woman, as they shuck out of their suits and drop them in the incinerator unit. “She’s damn fast.” “Yuh! But not as fast as me,” Helga chortles. Her heavy Slavic accent is heavier than usual and her grin is very wide. “She not liking me picking her up and sitting her butt down again. Hah!” “What happened?” I ask, closing the Solitaire program on the comp and turning in the chair to face them. 31

VIS Holly straightens her hair and glasses. “Oh, she got a little… bothered. But Helga was very helpful. In fact, Helga, why don’t you treat yourself to a long lunch today? Great job!” Helga trundles off with her buddy, the silent other assistant Holly picked from a group of miners years ago. He doesn’t say much at any time but that’s fine with Holly. Helga talks a bit but Holly’s threatened their lives and procreative abilities if they talk too much, and they believe her. Hell, I would, too, if I was them! I know Holly too well. Once the assistants leave, Holly glances over her shoulder at the isolation room, where Parker’s pacing like a caged tiger. Holly gestures toward the desktop comp and the screen opens to internal views of the woman… even I can tell, something looks different about her bone structure, her muscles. The medical viewer cycles through a few times and then Holly stops it, sighing. “Never seen anything like this in a human, Archer.” “She’s a mutant??” I’m shocked. Once we fought them to a standstill, some kid genius of a scientist came up with a tailored virus which basically killed them and nothing else. I thought we were done with mutants. Did some manage to escape? Just because they were mutants didn’t mean they were stupid, far from it. “No… not really, at least not like any mutant I ever scanned. Or that the medcomp has in its files. She’s just damn different. For instance, she’s much stronger than you or me or any other human, since she’s got stronger bones, more dense muscles. Her blood is off, way off, chemically and hormonally. And look at this… I think we found our murder weapons.” She taps the screen, making the skull appear; it rotates and then she taps it again, focusing on the jaws. Parker has some weird… “Fangs?!” I gasp. “Those look like…” “Yeah, fangs. They’re retractable, too. Go up into the jaw itself; these muscles apparently help extend and retract them. Never seen anything like this, ever, Archer. This is definitely some weird shit.” Her voice shakes a little. “The size is right for the puncture wounds. Her increased strength would account for the severe damage to the first victim.” “She’s that strong? You said bones were crushed, muscles torn… and part of him had been eaten, Holly. Is she just a total psycho? One of those extreme body modification people I’ve read about?” I look back into the room, note that Parker has decided to sit down on the bed again; she looks thoughtful. I’m worried. Holly nods. “Look at the calculations the medcomp did. It doesn’t lie.” It could be in Chinese for all it means to me, frankly, but I’ll always believe Holly. I nod. “Ok, so… how do we have evidence besides retractable teeth as murder weapons?” Holly laughs, a trifle hollowly. “Never underestimate human DNA. She had traces of both victims under her fingernails.” “Lady doesn’t clean up too well after committing murders like that?” I open my hands and shrug. “Didn’t think she’d be looked at that closely, or what?” 32

VIS “Oh ,she’d cleaned up, but not quite good enough. Hard to beat one of these scanners,” Holly says, tapping the unit. “It doesn’t take much to pick up the trace DNA. Tiny, tiny amounts.” She grimaces. “She must have been a real mess after Frankie. Probably showered really well… then went hunting for Vespania.” Oh, God, that look on Vespania’s face when we found her bound body… I shudder. Parker’s one sick puppy, that’s for sure. “So, we got DNA, weird teeth.” “Yep.” Holly sits on the edge of the desk, looking at Parker in the isolation room. “You know… sociopaths think they’re ever so much smarter than all the rest of us. We’re all idiots compared to them. But that’s where they mess up, eventually.” “What do you mean?” “They fail to see that if we dummies all work together, combining our skills, eventually we’ll have enough neural networking power to overpower their considerable skills, no matter how bad-ass they think they are. They tend to underestimate us. They’re good, very good, at what they do, but they suffer from hubris.” “So we’ve got her?” I scratch my chin; I need a shave in the worst way. “I’ll draw up the paperwork. From what we’ve seen, she’ll be either mind-wiped or euthanized.” “I don’t know. She seems to think she’s very highly connected with someone. I wonder who in the Company is one of her buddies. I don’t think I want to be friends with them, that’s for sure.” Holly saves off the files from the medcomp and locks the small, thumbnail-sized disks in her safe. “And this is staying the hell off my comp, that’s for sure.” “I’ll go start the paperwork…” I sigh. “We’ll see what happens then. Can you keep her here ok, or do you need Helga and Talkative Boy back?” “As strong as she is, she still can’t break through the walls of an isolation room. I’ll be fine, Archer. But don’t be surprised if we get an order from some Company asshole telling us to immediately release her.” “Surprised? Me?” I laugh over my shoulder. “Been around the block a few times, honey. Wouldn’t be surprised at all. But I’m still going to do it. Can’t let her just wander around… feeding… on people here.”

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VIS Chapter 9 The shuttle’s arrived; there’s always an extra bustle and hustle when one lands at the Habitat, since it’s the high point of some pretty boring times for most people here. Me, I’ve had enough excitement for a good long while, with two murders, the death of one of my best friends, and managing to detain someone we think is a serial killer with fangs. That still weirds me out, I think, as I watch the passengers disembark. One guy in a nice suit—he looks too smarmy to be worth much, the sergeant in me assesses from a distance—sets his carryon bag down and then marches over to me, hand extended. “Sheriff Hudson, glad to meet you!” I have my hands hooked in my belt loops; I’m leaning against a bulkhead with my baseball cap pushed down over my forehead. I nod, but don’t move my hands. “Hi there, yourself.” He looks down at his outstretched hand for a fraction of a second, and then straightens his shirt. “I’m Wilbur Kurland, Special Chief Assistant to the Legal Counsel of the Company.” “Nice to meet ya,” I smile from under my cap. “Join the line, everyone gets screened.” “Well, really, since I am a Company representative, I don’t think there’s any need, and I do have some very important business to speak with you ab—” I cut him off, curtly. “Everyone goes through the process, buddy. Even Company reps. Back in line. When the doc clears you, I’ll talk with you. Not until then.” I stand up straight and flex my shoulders. “See ya later.” Several of the shuttle passengers have been watching the exchange with open mouths and wide eyes—it’s not often you see a Company rep get dissed. But I’m in no mood for play. I know why he’s here, and I’m pissed off. The Company wants Camilla Parker released, immediately, into his custody and I’ll be damned if I just lay down and let them walk all over my murder investigation. Some of the passengers chuckle at the man’s obvious embarrassment but not enough to draw his attention to them, I note. The stoner shuttle agent was beside himself when I told him we were enforcing the medical checks. Or at least he was for a few moments, until the better hashish kicked in. I called in a favor from Stan to sweeten the deal with the shuttle agent, and now he’s sleepily scanning people’s ID cards as they come aboard the Habitat from the shuttle itself. Yawning, but happy, he waves at me and goes back to work. He has about 30 people to scan and check into the system. Each of them has to have a medical scan, too, which has backed up the line quite aways. Doc and her staff are scanning people quickly but expertly. We don’t want any more retractablefanged special people on board if we can help it. Holly looks over the crowd at me and smiles, that funny wicked little grin I enjoy so much. She’s having fun with this, I chuckle. Wish I was. I walk into the shuttle agent’s office, turning up the air scrubber on the bulkhead as I do. I don’t need a major buzz on, that’s for sure. My head’s been hurting but not quite as much recently; eventually, I’ll 34

VIS have to take up Holly’s offer of a head exam and possible surgery, but not right now, I think. I sit down and scan through the list of passengers who’ve been checked in so far. Most look benign. Chemists, geologists, mining experts, food handlers, a few “N/A” folks—those who check “Not Applicable” under their occupation. Those are the ones that often become trouble here. I’ll have to keep an eye on them; luckily it’s only a handful. The Company rep is finally processed through and I frown; now I have to talk with the bastard. As I sit back in the shuttle agent’s chair, waiting for the lawyer type to figure out where I am and pounce, a tall, beautiful woman glides into the office. She clears off some vid chips and a bag of Captin Crunchies (horrible snack, tastes like cardboard, probably is) from a chair and sits down next to me. She sets a small black bag down by her side and smiles. I smile back, not sure why. Clear green eyes stare into mine, and all of a sudden I get the feeling like this chick could read my mind. I also feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and remember that Camilla Parker has the same effect, in a way. This feels much… better. I rub my chin (finally had a good shit, shave and shower… then some sleep, with the help of some little pills from Holly) and wonder who the hell she is. “I’m Theo. Theodosia Almando,” she says calmly, her voice an interesting mixture of European and American accents. I can’t place it, and I’m pretty good with accents. Her hair, a deep rich brown, has tiny blonde highlights in it that catch the light from the overhead as she moves to look even more directly at me. Her eyes are deep green, and I feel like I could swim in them… she grins. I clear my throat, suddenly aware that it feels warmer in here that it did. “Um, glad to meet you, Miss Almando. I’m Sheriff Hudson.” “Yes, I know. And we need to talk, preferably somewhere more private than this lovely place.” OK, I wonder, what the hell is going on here? I nod. “That’s fine.” Mr. Kurland bursts into the office. “Hudson, now that I’ve been processed and thoroughly embarrassed, we will talk. Now.” Well, aren’t your panties in a wad, I chuckle to myself. Company reps, I hate ‘em, as a group. This one, I think I’ll hate as an individual. “Mr. Kurland, I’ll be glad to speak with you in my office. In about an hour. I have a previous appointment to keep. Glad you’re all processed and ready to enjoy your stay on our Habitat.” I stand up, take Miss Almando’s hand, and lead her out of the shuttle agent’s office. She smiles widely and as she passes Kurland, flutters her long eyelashes at him. He blanches at first then turns beet red. “Please come on in, never mind the mess,” I say, waving Miss X into my office. She smiles and walks past me, close enough where I can inhale her perfume. Smells damn good, I think. Keep your mind on business, dingbat. “A working office is a much better place than one that looks like a mausoleum,” Theo says, sitting down in a chair by my work table. She puts her small black bag on the desk and opens it, pulling out a slim grey comp. She taps it; it opens and the vid screen expands so we can both see it easily. “What 35

VIS I have to say, though, isn’t for prying eyes or ears.” She taps the lower right of the comp screen and the room seems to take on a dull, echo-less feeling. One of those new room-sized privacy filters, I realize. Expensive as heck, but worth it if you really, really don’t want your neighbors to hear you. “Pretty fancy equipment,” I note, sitting down at the table with her. “Why does such a pretty lady need such privacy? Please don’t tell me you’re hustling magazines or something…” Theo Almando laughs then, a clear, husky peal. “No… maybe I could, on the side. But no, my main job is quite different. And the equipment is worth it, every penny.” She taps the screen again with a fingernail and an image of a skull appears. I jump a little in my seat, and my mouth goes dry. It’s the same kind of skull Holly and I looked at in the medical center. How the hell did she get this? “OK, now you have some serious talking to do, lady.” My voice is serious. “How’d you get this image?” “It’s one of many we have,” she replies, smoothly. “We have an extensive collection, you might say. And I’m sure, based on your reaction, that you’ve seen something like this before, probably quite recently. Am I correct?” I nod. How does she know? “Who are you, anyway, and how do you have a collection of these things?” She taps the screen again to stop the image from rotating. It centers on the screen, and my eyes are drawn to the fangs. In this image, the fangs are extended, and I can see now how easily they could puncture a human neck, almost down to the spine, if they wanted to. I shudder, remembering the bodies. “Hudson, I’m an agent. Think of me as the solution to your problem, and I know you’ve got one, before you deny it, so save your breath. I work for a group you’ve never heard of. You never should have heard of us in your life, but things have changed recently. Now we need to be more open, and now you need my help.” “Agent? Like government agent?” Most governments are mere shells now; the Companies and Corporations have taken over running Earth as well as the outposts, for decades. “Or Company agent?” Theo rolls her green eyes. “No, for God’s sake, I’m not one of those. I work for a group called the Alliance. Like I said, you’ve never heard of us, because we made damn sure no one did. But we have a problem, and you do, too. Let me help you.” OK, I feel like I’ve suddenly fallen down a rabbit hole. “Miss Almando, if you’ve got a solution to dealing with a weirdly-built serial killer who’s about to be set loose by a Company rep on this Habitat, then let me know the plan. I could use some help.” “We only have a few minutes before the Company rep gets here,” she says quietly. “And what I have to explain is pretty shocking. But I think you’ve seen enough here to know that something very real and very dangerous is happening. And we have to stop it.” 36

VIS “Yeah, I’ve seen enough. So spill.” Theo looks me in the eyes, smiles a little. “I’m a vampire.” Uh-oh, la-la land time, part of my mind says. I sit up a little straighter and smile slowly. “Um, ok.” “No, seriously, I’m a vampire. However, I’m not a Rogue.” Her smile widens and so do my eyes. I can see her fangs slowly descending. My balls try to climb back up inside me and I have the urge to shriek like a girl, but I just sit there, feeling sweat bead on my forehead. She looks me over, gauging my reaction, and licks her lips with a luscious-looking red tongue, her fangs now glistening in the light. “I hate to be so forward about this. But sometimes seeing is believing. And you need to believe, Archer Hudson.” Theo’s voice is smooth, commanding. “Vampires have always walked amongst you humans, and always will. In the last thousand years, though, there’s been a change. There are those among us who have allied themselves with humans, and no longer see you as walking blood banks. And there are those who refused this path, and became Rogues. Rogue vampires.” “Rogues.” My lips are dry. “Yes, they still feed on humans. We try to limit them, but in times of great social disruption—wars, genocides, the recent exodus from Earth—it’s hard to control them.” She grimaces. “When we lose control of them, bad things happen to humans and then bad things happen to us. It’s not a pretty cycle.” Jesus, she’s serious. She’s not nuts, at least not the usual kind I see. My hands are sweaty, so I wipe them on my khakis. “You’re not kidding around, are you?” “No.” Her smile fades, and the fangs slowly retract. “We can hide—live—quite easily amongst humans since we came up with a suitable analog substance for human blood. The Rogues think the analogue blood drains them of some of our powers. That may be; we’re still looking into it. But even if that’s true, we’re still much more powerful, physically, than you homo sapiens.” OK, now I feel like a cave man next to a princess or something. Thanks, lady. I rub my forehead; the headache’s coming back full force. “OK. Let me get this straight. You’re telling me there are good vampires and bad vampires, and what we have on our hands here in the Habitat is a bad one. Miss Almando.” “You’ve got it. But call me Theo. It’s ok.” She taps the screen again, and photos of various people slide across the screen. She stops it at one picture… it’s Camilla. “Is this her?” I sit back. “Yes, that’s her. She’s in the isolation room right now in the medical center. We suspect her of killing and mutilating one man, and raping and killing a woman, too.” “Oh, she raped the male, too.” Theo’s face is grim. “They enjoy inflicting huge amounts of pain and suffering on their victims, before they drain them.”

37

VIS “Well, we actually couldn’t find enough of him to determine that,” I reply. In fact, I think, we never did find the poor guy’s pecker or balls at all. That means… eck. OK, I don’t want to know. “Human flesh is apparently quite an aphrodisiac,” she says quietly. “I wouldn’t know.” It turns them on? My flesh crawls, remembering Camilla’s smile and her patting the couch next to her, inviting me to sit down. Eating humans rocks their world? That’s as bad as mutants. My stomach turns over and I stand up, walk over to my desk, and pop open a bottle of headache pills. I toss a couple back and then take a swig of unfortunately cold, stale coffee from the mug on my desk. I make a face and then walk back to the table and Theo. “Wouldn’t know?” I look down at her. “So you haven’t had a human? Lately?” Theo looks up at me with anger in her face. “I told you, I’m part of the Alliance. We don’t feast on humans, don’t harvest them, don’t even make them into our servants. It’s not the way we want to live.” “Sorry,” I say, instantly regretting angering her even a little. “It’s just that it’s all sort of hard to deal with. I just have trouble believing… or had trouble believing… in stuff like this.” “Most humans think it’s old wives’ tales. Or myths. Or old movies.” She sighs, stands up, stretches. She’s about a head shorter than me. Her coveralls, light blue with dark blue highlights along collar and cuffs, fits her damn well. “But we’re real. Have been. And now we have to eliminate the Rogue who is calling herself Camilla Parker.” She reaches down to the screen, taps it a couple of times. “This is the real Camilla Parker. Of Zurich. Before…” She taps again, and then I gag. “And after, the Rogue using her name and ID got through with her.” What’s on the vid screen had been a charming middle aged looking woman, her hair done up in blonde braids on top of her head, smiling warmly at the camera. The second photo shows… parts. Unidentifiable parts, except for the head. The Rogue had severed the woman’s head, and placed it carefully on the flower centerpiece of a table. The expression on the dead woman’s face is a mirror image of the one I saw on Vespania Von Drehle’s face hours ago. Horror, terrible fear, unbearable pain. And death.

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VIS Chapter 10 The Company rep, Wilbur Kurland, I recall his name slowly, is almost visibly steaming. He’s so pissed he doesn’t know whether to cry or yell; I love it. Little bastard deserves it, trying to boss me around like some wet-behind-the-ears recruit on the first day of Basic. “Come on in, Rep.” “I’m… I’m going to lodge a formal protest against you, Sheriff. Making me wait while you dally with some tart. That’s highly irregular. And I’ll make sure your boss knows about it, and takes appropriate measures.” He stomps in and sits down, without being invited to do so. I remain standing, sipping a new cup of coffee. At least this cup isn’t cold and stale. “Tart? I don’t know what you mean. I had a meeting with a colleague.” I smile over the cup. “And my time is very tightly scheduled here. I’m a busy man. So how can I help you?” He huffs in indignation. “I’m here on the special request of Legal Counsel. Apparently you’ve got one of our best people in some sort of medical isolation, and I’m here to make sure she’s released. Here are her immunization records, and any other pertinent medical information, your Medical Officer can request from the Company. Now release Camilla Parker, immediately.” “No can do, buddy-ro.” I set the cup down, having drained it at last. “She’s not going anywhere.” About five minutes ago, Theo had produced an outstanding warrant—whether or not it was forged, real, or otherwise is not my concern—and I have it on file now. Camilla Parker, the real one, is quite legally dead, so you can’t travel on a dead person’s ID. Company regulations. I grin at the irony. “She’s not traveling on legal documents.” “What!?” I look down at the rep and see that he’s sweating liberally, face red, eyes bulging. “I have orders!” “Eat ‘em.” I walk over to where he’s sitting. “I don’t care if you stuff them where the sun don’t shine, son. I really don’t. She—whoever she is—is traveling on a dead woman’s ID. So she’s going to the brig, where she is going to stay until the next shuttle arrives. Then I’m going to have the Doc sedate her, and I’m shoving her ass on board that shuttle. She’ll go back to Earth and either be brain-wiped or euthanized.” “Good God, man!” His face crumbles into a mask of despair. “No! You can’t do this, you simply can’t. I have all the paperwork to release her. It’s Camilla Parker, there must be some mix up in your papers. She’s on a valid ID. She’s fine. We have to release her. You don’t understand.” “I do understand. You’re a slimy little toad, sent up here by some rich Company bastard who thinks he—or she—can order us around up here. And that ain’t happening. She’s going to the brig, buddy.” To my surprise, Kurland crumbles. He actually begins crying, waving his precious papers at me. “Listen, please listen, you don’t understand.” His sobs interrupt him and I wonder what the heck is going through this man’s head, if anything. “Please. Sheriff, you just don’t know who you’re dealing with. This is above your pay grade, it’s way above mine. You have to release her!”

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VIS I snap. Suddenly, I’m holding him by the front of his fancy suit, and his feet are swinging wildly above the deck. I shake him, hard. “Listen, goddammit. I’ve had it. People coming here and telling me what I have to do, and weird shit… I’m just a sheriff. Before that, I was a Marine gunnery sergeant. I take care of people. Two people—admittedly not the greatest folks in the world—were murdered here. That bitch in isolation did it, and she’s going to go back to Earth and deal with the consequences. And the next son of a bitch who prances in here, gets in my face, and tries to tell me what to do, I’m going to kick their ass to the next asteroid. Got me?!” I drop him to the floor and he stumbles for a moment. Then a light comes into his eyes that I haven’t seen before. “You may think you’re in charge here, you fool. But you won’t be for long. The Masters are coming…” he cuts himself off. “You’ll see. And you’ll pay. I’ll enjoy watching that. Believe me.” He grabs his papers and his briefcase and storms out. Really? Masters? Paying for things? Not in charge? Hmm. Maybe another cup of coffee would be good. Frankie’s roommate wakes up and starts whining about being let loose. I finally take pity on the guy and toss him some old clothes one of the last inmates left behind. Can’t have him walking around in bright pink scrubs, unless he wants to go into a new line of work. He happily changes into the old clothes, ditching the scrubs, and heads out. Probably going to the bar, I think, and smile. He’ll tie one on, maybe get busy with one of the working girls… hopefully not catch anything Doc can’t cure. Hopefully he didn’t lose his job on the mine, but with the way they’re yelling for more product, he won’t have trouble getting on a new shift. Doc walks in, followed by Theo. They seem to be getting along well, I note. Holly looks more relaxed than she has in the past couple of days. Maybe they had some good girl talks or whatever it is girls do when guys aren’t around messing things up. I smile at them and stand, making a grand bow. “Welcome to the Abode of…” “The Smelly Brig,” Holly cackles. “Jeeze, ever use the air scrubbers in here, Archer? It stinks.” “I hadn’t noticed. I had my nose in a wonderful hot cup of java.” I pour another. “Want some?” “The sludge you make isn’t known as coffee.” She peers at it and then relents. I do make pretty good coffee, even though she calls it sludge. I like it strong. “Want some, Theo?” “I could stand some sludge,” Theo smiles. “Sure, sounds enticing.” She sits down on the edge of my desk. “Holly and I had a good talk, Archer. She was easier to convince, actually, than you were.” “Shit, it’s because she was an officer, and we all know officers don’t have much upstairs,” I joke. Holly shoots daggers at me with her eyes but smiles indulgently, sipping her sludge, I mean coffee. “Yeah, yeah… blah, blah, blah. Just because you couldn’t read well enough to get into OCS…” She sighs and sits down in my chair. “Seriously, once I saw the physical evidence, I was pretty convinced.” “So you’re ok with this?” I ask her, raising an eyebrow. “No offense intended, Theo.”

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VIS “None taken.” She takes the cup of coffee I offer and tries it. “Not ok with it… just believe it. I’ve seen some weird shit in my life, and so have you. So this is just one more twist in the universe, you know?” Holly sounds serious. “I don’t understand it all, but I know what I see, and what I saw convinced me. Both with the murders, with Parker—or whoever she is—and now with Theo.” “Well, I just had a lovely interview with Kurland. He wanted to release the Rogue immediately,” I say, pulling a chair over and sitting down too. “His head about spun off when I told him no.” “Did he have an odd reaction, once he was sure you wouldn’t let her go?” Theo looks over her cup at me. “Did he get angry—or surly?” “Yeah!” I tell them what he said. “Pretty much more weird shit. Nothing new there.” “He’s a Servant.” She says it with a capital S. Holly and I look at each other and then back at Theo. She sighs. “Some humans have been partially… infected… with the vampire virus, if that’s how you want to look at it. Rogues use them as intermediaries. Servants, serfs, occasional meals. Their souls belong to the Rogue who takes them, partially drains them… replacing some of their human blood with vampire blood, but not completely.” “But how?” Holly’s brow bunches. “Wouldn’t there be some kind of major incompatibility issue with the blood types? You’re a separate species.” “There is an auto-immune reaction, and often the human dies. But if they don’t, then their bodies learn to accommodate the alien blood. In fact, they become dependent on the Rogue for occasional refueling. Otherwise, they die. If they’re refueled every 100 years or so, they can live almost indefinitely, unless the Rogue tires of them.” “Kurland is over 100?” I choke a little on my coffee. “That little schmuck?” “He’s one of the newer ones, I’d bet. I’d have to examine him to be sure. But we can do that. Or, I guess, I can do that. You probably don’t want to be there when I do.” Theo sets her coffee cup down. “Good sludge, the best I’ve ever had.” She stands and stretches. “Those shuttle rides aren’t so much fun, are they?” No one likes the cryo-sleep, I think to myself, not even vampires. “No, haven’t met anyone who likes it.” “Well, no rest for the wicked,” she smiles slowly. “I need to go have a little… talk… with Kurland.” I don’t care if witches are riding brooms through the hydro section, dragons are popping out of the elevators, or vampires want to poke each other’s eyes out. This is still my Habitat, and my responsibility. If shit goes down, I need to be there, even if my gut is telling me otherwise. “OK, little lady,” I say in my best John Wayne drawl. “I gotta be there when you talk with the creep. Whether or not you want me there, I want to be there. This is still my watch, you know?” 41

VIS She nods and so does Holly. “I should be there too.” “No, not you,” Theo says, walking over and taking Holly’s hand. “You’re going to be working on what we talked about. The compound.” “I can do that too…” “No.” Theo’s voice has taken on the hardness of a commander and we both realize it. “I need you to do that for me, now. Archer can come to the interrogation if he wants to. I’m not going to be responsible for any nightmares, though, afterwards. Let’s go, Archer.” Holly heads back to the Medical Center, and we go looking for Kurland. What we’re going to do when we find him is a mystery to me, but apparently not to Theo. She’s a fast walker and I have to work to keep up with her as we work our way through the levels of the Habitat, looking for Kurland.

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VIS Chapter 11 The search for Kurland is appreciably shortened by my comp noticing he’s tried to open the medical center with his pass key; pretty stupid, actually, since no one but me and Doc Marten can open the place with a pass key, I think. He’s desperate. We hurry down there but he’s already gone, damn it. I look at Theo and raise my eyebrows questioningly. “Ok, now what, Theo?” “I can track his scent. Just follow me,” she wolf grins. “Won’t take long, the way he’s sweating. He must have almost fainted when he couldn’t get in here. His Master is getting impatient; can’t you hear her?” I stop and cock my head to one side… the ears haven’t been treated so well on this old Marine, since in my youthful days, I was around a lot of things that made big, bad noises. A lot. I can’t hear a thing, and shake my head no. She smiles more kindly than before. “I forget, you’re a combat veteran. Your hearing probably isn’t optimal. Mine is; she’s really upset in that lovely isolation room you stuck her in. That was,” she continues, as we walk quickly down the corridor, “one of the very best things you could’ve done, Archer.” “It was Holly’s plan. I wanted to fake up a warrant for her arrest.” “Yeah, and good ole Wilbur would be dancing with his Master now if you’d done that. He knows how to get around paperwork but not highly secure locks.” She brushes her hair back from her face. “He’ll do anything—literally anything—for her.” “How did he get… hooked?” I wonder out loud. “Oh, it’s simple, really. The Rogues look for humans who’d like almost unlimited life, great wealth, power… often they simply seduce the human when they’re fairly young. I think she must have gotten to him a bit late, since he’s rather older looking than most they keep around. But that in itself may be a good cover…” Her voice trails off and she holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks. “He’s just ahead, talking with someone.” I stand in place, my hand going automatically to my pants pocket where the good ole stun gun resides. My hand closes around it slowly. Not what I’d really like… nothing like the feel of cold steel, rough-cut for your gloves to hang onto… but shooting a pistol in a Habitat is a nasty way of killing yourself. Once you’ve seen the results of explosive decompression, you never want to see that again. My mouth tightens and I get ready… Theo shakes her head “NO” emphatically at me; motions for me to stay put… and walks around the curve of the corridor by herself. The two voices… Kurland and a voice which sounds familiar, but one I can’t place right away, stop abruptly. “Servant,” Theo says slowly, the capital S again in the name, “Now is your time of Release.” The other man—the other voice suddenly pops up in my memory, it’s Frankie’s roommate, Joe Thompson—gasps suddenly and I hear a heavy thud. Sounds like a body hitting the floor, I think. Which one? 43

VIS Then I hear a hiss. Makes me go back to Parris Island, and the swamps… the sound of a big, mean, angry cottonmouth is one you’re not likely to forget, even if it’s been thirty two years… A snake? What the hell? I bolt around the corner just in time to see Kurland, his face transformed into an inhuman mask of fury, lunging at Theo. She stands her ground, doesn’t move an inch. She merely slides a bright silver knife, like a small K-bar, into his left eye. Just like that. No fuss, no muss. The man’s body bucks wildly; the hiss coming from his mouth changes to a rattling gurgle and then he slumps down, landing on his knees. Then the body slides further down, his butt sticking up in the air in a most undignified manner. But he’s dead, I think, so he doesn’t give a shit. Blood trickles slowly from underneath the body. Theo coldly kicks the left shoulder of the dead man, flipping him over onto his back and pulls the silver-looking knife out of his eye. He’d fallen so quickly she didn’t have time to pull it out before he hit the deck. She calmly wipes it on the man’s shoulder. I’m impressed but also a little horrified. I’m not used to people who look like total civilians having such an easy time about killing someone. I clear my throat and she looks up at me. Her pupils are dilated widely and her face is flushed. She smiles a little. “One less Servant to deal with,” she whispers huskily. If I didn’t know better, I think, I’d be thinking this chick was totally turned on by offing the guy. Who the hell are these people, anyway? I look over behind the body and see Joe slumped against the bulkhead. “Him too?” “No,” she says, slipping the now-clean knife away in one of her sleeves. “He’s just human. I knocked him out.” The body by her feet moves and I jump back, pulling the stun gun out. You’d think he’d be dead with a knife wound like that in his head… she pulls my arm down and looks into my eyes very directly. “Archer, turn around. Now.” “Why?” I look down again at Kurland’s body and almost toss my cookies. It’s beginning to tremble, or ripple, or something. I quickly look back at her and see honest concern in her eyes. “Look away now, or have nightmares, your choice.” I decide discretion is the better part of valor, and more conducive to a good night’s sleep, and turn my back. There are soft noises from the deck which make my skin crawl and time seems to slow to a glacial crawl. After what feels like an eon, Theo gently taps my back. “It’s ok now. Turn around. It’s over.” When I turn around, I’m not sure what to expect. There’s a pile of clothes lying there, and some gray dust. A few stray hairs. And that’s it. Joe’s still leaning against one bulkhead, blissfully unaware—he seems to do that a lot, my mind notes—but as for Kurland, he’s just gone. If the clothes weren’t there, you wouldn’t even know a man had died just moments ago. There’s no blood, no gore… just some dust. “What the hell happened to him?” I choke out. “He was a Servant. He was, by our records, around 156 or 157 years old. Human Servants, if killed in the right way, with the right tools, will disintegrate like this. The only thing that keeps them 44

VIS together—literally—is the periodic infusion of Rogue blood.” She kicks his clothes into a corner, first taking his ID badge and wallet, personal comp and a small trinket on a chain. It looks like a little monkey but she quickly whisks it into one of her pockets, so I don’t get a closer look. “Um, ok.” So that’s that, I reckon. I look over at Joe. “I guess I’ll drag him somewhere…” “His quarters?” She looks him over appraisingly. “He’s not too heavy.” “Well, his quarters are officially still a crime scene, and I’m sure it doesn’t smell too fucking good in there since we haven’t turned a cleaning bot loose on it yet.” I think for a moment. “I know, we’ll drop him off at Sally’s.” “Sally?” I grin. “Oh, just a working gal I know. She’ll be happy to help. Believe me.” We each take an arm, and looking like good buddies taking a drunk home after a long night of partying, we stagger down the corridor, to an elevator and finally to Sally’s room. She’s more than happy to help, as I thought. She pinches my ass on my way out the door, much to Theo’s amusement. We head back to the Medical Center, Holly and the perp, Rogue vampire lady. What we’re going to do with her, I don’t know. I hope it’s as quick and easy as what happened with Kurland, but somehow I don’t think it will be…

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VIS Chapter 12 As we enter the Medical Center, I notice two things: Camilla Parker, or whatever her real name is, is still pacing in the isolation room, looking extremely angry, and Holly’s hard at work over at the dispenser unit, mixing things in a glass beaker. She’s ignoring Parker’s movements but I can see tension in her shoulders. Then my comp buzzes and I unclip it from my belt to answer it. “Hudson,” I say in my usual helpful manner. “Hey, Hudson, how ya doin’?” The New Yawk accent is so strong… and I laugh, looking at Muhammad Asad’s grinning face on the vid screen. “Hear ya wanna talk with a real cop, huh?” I’d put out a few feelers to fellow cops in the area, wanting to know more about Max’s death. No one had many answers or time for answers, but if anyone would come through, it’d be Muhammad. “Hi, Hajji!” I grin back. “Good to see you. And yeah, I need some help from a big city cop. This old country sheriff is in over his head, again…” “You did that a lot as a sergeant, too, dude!” Then Muhammad’s face gets serious. “Sorry, really sorry, to hear about Max. I did some sniffing around…” “Yeah?” “Found a surveillance camera at a bank near the site. Caught the whole thing on vid; Max never had a chance, Sarge. And I got the make, model and plate on the car.” Poor Max. “What was he thinking, to be out on the street? Why not use a lift? They’re much better…” “I don’t know that, man. But I do know the car turns out to have been rented. By a certain Wilbur Kurland. Company asshole. I’m still tracking him down; looks like he’s gone off planet. The car was recycled but the place actually kept records, miracle of miracle. Alhamdulillah, some people actually care about pesky regulations like that. Amazing.” Kurland?! “Well, I can shorten your search for Kurland. He’s dead. Here.” “SubhanAllah! How’d that happen? You’ve had a few up there, haven’t you?” I nod. “Yeah, you could say that. He was… not a nice person, and someone offed him. That’s about all I’ll say about that. The other investigations—the other two murders—are still being investigated here. And that’s about all I’ll say about that, too.” “Need any help?” Muhammad looks wide-eyed; he strokes his beard with one hand. “I have some vacation time coming. Sounds like you’re swimming in trouble, Archer.” Muhammad’s gotten me out of some bad trouble before, back in the Corps, I remember. Posted to Afghanistan twice—once as soon as I graduated from Parris Island, then a couple of years later. Muhammad Asad was a forward air observer—an Airedale—with the Corps, and he could bring in either the planes or the heavy arty wherever and whenever you needed it. The guy was phenomenal! He could bring down a 155 mm shell on a fly if he wanted to. Some of the guys didn’t like him since he 46

VIS was Muslim but I don’t give a damn who you pray to as long as you get the job done for the Corps. And guys quickly realized he was one of the best FOs we’d ever had. He and I kept in touch over the years; in fact, he’s the one who talked me and Max into looking at law enforcement as a career choice after we were retired from the Marines. “You know, that might not be a bad idea,” I say. “Why don’t you hop on the next shuttle? I’ll square it with the Company folks. You’ll be a consultant.” “Ya Allah, I’d rather jump into the Hudson! No, I’ll be a vacationer.” He laughs. If you jump into the Hudson as it is now, that’s the last thing you’d ever do. What a crappy river… catches fire about every other day; fumes kill homeless people all the time when they decide to camp down near it. It used to be a nice, functioning river but after the bombs, then the industrial sewage, the river’s dead. And will be dead for a very long time, I think. “Fine by me, man!” I smile. “See you in about 40 hours?” The shuttle schedule’s burned into my brain; part of the job of being Sheriff on this Habitat is to know when you’re getting more people! “Super. See you soon, and man… watch your back! Tell Doc hi for me, too.” Muhammad signs off and I close my comp unit. “So, we’ll have a visitor…” I say conversationally. My eyes are still drawn to Parker’s pacing form behind the thick glass walls. Theo’s walked over to where Holly’s working, and is inspecting whatever potion or compound she’s been mixing. Holly turns to me and smiles. “I always liked Muhammad. Good man.” “Yeah, he is.” I nod. “What’re you making there, a martini?” Theo laughs. “A martini that kills.” “OK,” I sigh. More death? Yay. “Yes, this is for the Rogue. She won’t like it much… but I still think she has very little idea that we know what we know now…” she holds the beaker near her and waves a hand over the opening, wafting air towards her nose. “Yes, just right. Very good, Holly.” “I sure wouldn’t take a deep sniff of that crap,” Holly says, stripping off her flexible, skin-tight purple gloves and tossing them in the recycler. “The dispenser kept telling me what I was calling up wasn’t very good for consumption or exposure to skin…” “No, it’s not. But it has to be strong in order to work on her. In there.” Theo looks very grim. “You may not want to watch, either of you.” I hook my hands in my belt loops. “I heard that before… and I think she’s right, Holly. Let’s step outside for a moment. If Theo thinks she can handle what’s-her-name in there by herself, I think she can. And Theo was right about not wanting to watch things, earlier.” “But…”Holly holds her hands up. “But… Theo might need help!” 47

VIS “No, I won’t. I’ve done this before. I’m not underestimating the Rogue; I’m very aware of the danger, Holly. But I can handle it. And it just won’t be a nice thing to watch. Archer’s right. Why don’t the two of you step outside for about thirty minutes?” She picks up the beaker in her left hand, carefully. Parker’s still pacing wildly in the isolation room, ignoring us humans. I take Holly by the hand and lead her from the Medical Center office. She looks angry but also frightened, and doesn’t resist too much. The door cycles shut behind us, leaving the two vampires with each other and the concoction.

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VIS Chapter 13 Holly and I walk down the corridor to wait… I decide privacy would be good, and guide her into one of the small storage units I have access to. I like to come here sometimes and just sit and think; I’ve got some midnight requisitioned chairs and a few other things stashed away here, being an old Gunny Sergeant. Old habits die hard, or just don’t die at all, I grin. “You’ve got a little apartment here, Archer,” Holly laughs, and sits down on one of the comfortable chairs. “Hey, these chairs are better than what I have in my office, damn it! How’d you manage that?” “Oh, well…” I spread my hands and try to look innocent. “I think maybe a box or two fell off a shuttle. That’s all I can figure.” I sit down next to her and laugh. “You know how that happens.” “Oh, yeah,” she nods. “I know. Done it a few times myself, actually.” She rubs her hands over her face tiredly. “What a long couple of days it’s been, Archer.” “You’re telling me!” I yawn. “Thanks for the sleeping pills. They helped.” “I took some too, when I needed to sleep. All this weird stuff… I just keep going over it again and again. And I just keep thinking it’s a nightmare, and I’ll wake up eventually. But it’s real, Archer. We’re living the nightmare.” Holly looks frightened. “I’ve seen things, and so have you, that I wish we hadn’t. So thanks for taking me here, and letting those… two… deal with each other.” I casually put my arms on the back of the chairs; we’re sitting next to each other. I prop my boots up on a crate and lean back, stretching. This feels like high school, part of my mind protests, but I shut him up and make the move. My arm slips carefully down, around her shoulders, and rests lightly there. My heart’s racing a klick a minute. Hell, she’ll probably slap the fire out of me, I think in resignation. I don’t know much about all this stuff. Never did. Holly surprises the hell out of me by sighing and leaning back against my encircling arm. She rests her head on my bicep… it feels good. I let my fingers stroke very gently through her hair. That feels good, too. My mouth’s dry but at least this time it’s not out of a bad fear… more like adolescent angst. “Holly?” She looks up at me, her eyes bright blue behind her glasses. “Yes, Archer?” Her voice is soft. I’m not used to that, either. What am I doing, I wonder… what am I doing? “Um…” I clear my throat nervously. My fingers fall to her shoulder, resting there, feeling the warmth of this woman I’ve known for decades, but never hugged. “Well…” “Oh, for crying out loud, Archer. You’re hopeless!” She laughs, and then draws my head down with her hands on either side of my face. She kisses me, slowly, gently. “You’re absolutely hopeless.” About an hour later, we walk back to the Medical Center. I’m floating, I think, and I need to return to the Habitat, not to the happy place we were just in. Time for more of that later. After we’d kissed for what felt like forever, in a good way, we talked. I confessed how much I’ve been thinking of Holly; she 49

VIS said she’s always had a place in her heart for me, but wasn’t sure I was ready. So we’ve been doing this damn silly dance around each other for approximately 24 years. A few tears, a few laughs, and more kisses. And now I think we’re officially boyfriend and girlfriend. Who knows, she might wear my ring one day? I squeeze her hand one more time before the Medical Center hatchway sighs open and she squeezes right back. We grin, then steel our faces for what waits for us inside. “Hello,” Theo says. She sits up from the medical bed she was lying on. Her face and neck are bandaged, and she’s paler than she was. There’s an odd smell overlaying the medicinal smells a hospital unit usually has, but I’m pretty sure I may not want to know what it is. Parker’s… gone. The isolation room door stands open, the room empty except for the exam bed. “All’s well…” Holly steps next to the bed, her eyes alight with professional concern as well as personal. How’d they get to be friends so fast, I wonder, but then put that thought away for later. Holly checks the bandages but Theo shrugs off her questions. “I’m fine, really, Holly. We just had a bit of a struggle. A bit. I’ll be fine; I used the med comp and stitched myself up quite well, I think.” “Where’s…” I point towards the isolation room. Theo smiles slowly, not quite wolf-grinning but close to it. “She’s been retired. Permanently.” “But what about a body…” I begin and Theo laughs out loud. “You saw what happened to a Servant…” she says. “Imagine what happens to a Rogue who’s over a thousand years old. Not much to pick up afterwards. I cleaned up my blood, disinfected the room. Threw her clothes in the recycler. All done. No muss, no fuss. Well, maybe a little fuss. Not much.” She sits up completely, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “And now I could use a snack. Got a nice, quiet place to eat around here? We need to talk, the three of us.” “Sure, there’s the fancy-dancy dining facility that’s above my pay grade. I could eat bread sticks while you girls enjoy the steaks…” I laugh. “Or there’s Stan’s bar… don’t drink anything out of a glass, only bottles…or…” “Notice I said ‘nice’?” Theo laughs. She’s changed into some scrubs… wonder what happened to her coveralls? Oh, the blood, probably, my mind notes. She stands up, stretches slowly, carefully. “I’d like some food and something to drink, but I didn’t have Stan’s bar in mind. Anywhere else? I’d even be happy with some rehydrated rations in one of your compartments. Really!” “You must be desperate,” Holly chuckles. “No, there’s Rafael’s… it’s a tiny café down on the 6th level. And I mean tiny. But he’s an excellent cook, considering the supplies he has to work with. And it’s quiet.” I nod. “Yeah, and not too expensive. We’ve eaten there a few times when we just couldn’t stand the Company cafeteria on the 4th level anymore.” “Let’s go, then!” Theo smiles. “I’m ravenous.”

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VIS Part of me notes how shiny and white her teeth are… I shudder a little, despite myself. Those fangs descending… She looks at me with an odd glint in her eyes. “Don’t worry… not for human blood. I’d really like something that tastes like steak, though.” “OK, we should be able to help you out,” I smile. And decide to work harder at keeping my mental ramblings to myself, not sharing them with her. She has an uncanny ability to read us like we’re books, like we’re transparent, and it pisses me off inside. “Let’s amble…” Rafael’s is busy, but he quickly waves us in and finds us a table in the back. When Holly said it was small, she wasn’t kidding. It’s basically a compartment the size of a shipping container, with tables, chairs, a kitchen, wait staff, and Rafael catering to his customers. A waitress brings us menus after we’re seated, and Theo looks over the offerings. “I’ll have the steak, please.” I laugh. “Of course you would.” She holds my eyes with hers. “You… people… like steaks. Ordering yours rare, like Camilla had in the fancy place earlier?” “I like mine well done, thank you.” She hands the menu to the waitress, who’s oblivious to the underlying meaning of our conversation, thankfully. “And I’ll have some of the vegetables, too. And a glass of beer, please.” “Yes, ma’am,” the girl says, smiling, tapping the order into her comp. “And you two?” “I’ll have the Cuban sandwich, please, with sweet potato fries, and a water.” Holly says, looking over her menu. “I love it when Rafael has the Cuban sandwich on the menu… it’s not very often he can do it, you know, with the supply situation.” She looks over and me, and I nod. “I’ll have the same sandwich, but chips instead of the fries. And a beer.” I hand the girl the plastic menus and she nods, entering our orders. “Be just a few minutes.” She leaves and we look at each other. Theo unwraps a package of crackers and eats them quickly. “Ok, what do we need to talk about?” I ask. I take a package of crackers too. I’m really hungry. Theo sighs. “Well, several things.” “Start, then.” I put my elbows on the table. Underneath the table, Holly runs her left hand over my right thigh, and I jump a little. Theo raises her eyebrows briefly, then grins at us. “Oh… you two kids. Goodness. Maybe we should’ve met for dinner later?” She purrs, and I turn crimson. Holly laughs. “No…” I grunt. “Let’s talk, dammit.” “OK, ok…” Theo looks at Holly and they exchange a womanly glance of understanding. “First thing. We need to destroy the bodies. Second thing. We need to find out if there are any more Rogues up 51

VIS here. Third thing. Why was the Rogue we know about here? What brought her here? We need to know. Fourth thing. I need to talk with the Alliance folks, but I have the feeling this could be the tip of an iceberg. I’m worried that there’s so much we don’t know. I don’t like being in the dark. We’ve always managed to stay a step or two ahead of the Rogues on Earth, but here… I don’t know. I just don’t. I need your help, both of you. And perhaps this Muhammad guy. He could be helpful if he can assimilate the facts as quickly as you both did.” “Good Lord!” Holly says. “More of them? Here?” “Yes.” Theo eats more crackers, neatly stacking the little plastic wrappers in the center of the table. “We need to find out… I can do a quick survey of your recent medical checks. I can spot things you might have missed. The Rogues aren’t used to hiding from humans so much as hiding from us. They’re pretty arrogant, actually, about humans.” I nod. “That’s what Holly was telling me, even before all this weird shit about vampires. Holly had nailed Camilla—or whoever she was—as a sociopath, and as a dangerous woman. We just didn’t know how dangerous. And I think Muhammad will be fine, if you show him the proof you showed us. He’s a pretty cool guy. Known him a long time.” “Why would Kurland kill Max?” Holly looks down at her hands. “Why?” “Because Max was apparently onto something, and the Rogues ordered him taken out,” Theo says, slowly, thoughtfully. “We just need to know what.” “Well, hell, he sent a package to me, I locked it in my office safe. It was on the last shuttle.” I smack my forehead. “That will probably answer a couple of questions. With all this Servant and Rogue stuff, I forgot about it. But it’s there.” “Good, we can look at it after we eat.” The waitress brings our food, hot and steaming, and some cold beer for Theo and me. Holly sips her water and we fall silent, hungrily devouring our meals. Conversation can wait for a few moments.

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VIS Chapter 14 “Salaam alaikum, Muhammad,” I call, and Muhammad Asad breaks the line, coming over to where I’m standing at the Shuttle reception area. “How are you, you old man, you?” We hug tightly. Some people stare but that’s fine with me. They don’t realize we’re two old Devil Dogs who could kick their asses any time we want. “I’m fine; a little foggy from the cryo, but not bad. It’s better than it used to be, that’s for sure. Wa alaikum salaam, brother.” He smiles through his bushy beard. “I brought your little buddy along, too… he’s somewhere over there with about 50 kilos excess luggage.” Cal sees us and struggles toward where we are, his arms loaded down with various bags and boxes. “Hi, Sheriff! Hi, Mr. Asad!” “Hi, Cal,” I reply, smiling at him. Nice looking kid, but you can see he’s a young ‘un, that’s for sure. A couple of assistant DI’s and I could whip him into nice shape, I think. He’d make a smart looking Marine, even as young-looking as he is. He sets his bags down, dropping a box or two and sighs. “Boy, they do charge you if you go over your allotted weight limit, but I couldn’t leave my stuff behind. I don’t know when I’ll be going back, so I brought it all with me.” He grins boyishly at us and we laugh. Muhammad chuckles, “I think the Sheriff and I could teach you a thing or two about packing for travel, that’s for sure.” He picks up a box and so do I; we nod at the Shuttle Agent, who waves us through sleepily (he’s still working on the high grade hash I gave him). We end up at my office. “I got quarters for you both—here are your passkey access cards. Cal, I got a job—waitstaff—at Rafael’s. It’s a nice little café. Check your comp, it’ll have directions on how to get there, and then how to find your way around. If you try your passkey somewhere and it doesn’t work, you have encountered either my brilliant security plan, or a messed up reader.” I grin. “If it’s somewhere you really think you should be able to go, let me know and I’ll have maintenance work on the reader. Don’t be surprised; it happens all the time around here. The Habitat’s a bit on the older side, and a bit worse for wear.” I turn to Muhammad. “I had the comp load directions for you, too.” “I know my way around, I think… these rabbit warrens aren’t too hard to figure out. What level are my quarters on? Am I going to be nice and radiated, or sheltered?” He laughs, looking at his comp vid screen. “Ah, thank you, brother. At least I’m on the 6th level. Thanks!” “Well, the previous owner won’t be needing those quarters anymore.” My smile goes away. “You and I need to talk. We have some serious shit to go over.” Cal looks worried as he hefts his bags. “Am I invited to? I do have a vested interest.”

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VIS “Not to this conversation, kid. But maybe later. You need to go get unpacked and then talk with Rafael about which shift he wants you to work. I promise, we’ll keep you up to date about anything we learn about Max. Promise.” He nods and walks quickly away, his head hanging down sadly. “He’s a nice kid,” I say conversationally. Muhammad nods. “Yes, he talked with me as we were waiting to board the shuttle.” “You don’t have an issue with him, do you, Muhammad?” “No, not with him and Max. What they do… or did… is between them and God. I don’t judge. Now if you show me someone who’s out to hurt someone else, I have no problem enforcing the laws of the land. But them… no. I learned a long time ago no one lives in a perfect way; we could all use some understanding. You know?” “Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure. I knew you sort of got religion more after you left the Corps, and I wondered…” He grins. “Yep, no likker, no wild wimmin, no drugs…” “Well, hell, son, what’s left?!” I joke. “Oh, there’s lots. Prayer, prayer and more prayer. Occasionally spiced up with… prayer.” He laughs out loud, a deep belly laugh. “No, seriously, it’s fine. I did get more openly religious but not intolerant. There’s a huge difference. Having rediscovered my faith helped me through losing Fatima.” “God, yes, I’m sorry to hear that.” Fatima, his wife of 20 years, had passed away a few months ago from a fast moving cancer. Seems like more and more people on Earth are having problems like that. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. But it just seems that way to me. “Fatima was a lovely, lovely lady. I’m very sorry for you.” He looks away, briefly, pretending interest in my shelf of Corps knickknacks. “Yes. She was the love of my life, Archer. I hope you find someone like her soon.” I shrug. I’m not ready to talk about stuff like that with him, even though we go back years. I’ve always been known as the mysterious kiss-and-don’t-tell guy in my platoon; I just don’t brag about women or dates. I prefer to keep some things private. “Yeah, maybe.” He turns back to face me. “OK, Sarge, lay it on me. What’s been going on? Besides what you hinted at on the comp?” “Have a seat. This’ll take a few.” I sit down and wave an arm at one of the other chairs. He sits, looking intently at me. He has the eye of a seasoned cop, reading people easily, looking for tells, for behavioral tics. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of the law and have to face him over an interrogation table, I think. We start talking…

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VIS Two hours later, Muhammad sits down again after pacing up and down in my office. I think it’s more to release nervous energy than anything else. What I’ve tried to explain is pretty shocking. It’s not often—if ever—that two seasoned cops, not to mention war veterans—sit down and calmly discuss vampires and killings. On a mining habitat in space. He stops and returns to my desk, grabbing his mug of coffee and drinking it down quickly. “This is just hard to believe, Archer. Very hard.” “I know,” I reply. “I’ve been where you are. Part of you is probably wondering if I’ve been into a still of crazy juice or something, but I can guaran-damn-tee you I haven’t been. It’s real and we have to deal with it, Gyrene.” “Hah!” He grunts. “No one’s called me that for years…” “Once a Marine…” I begin. “Always a Marine,” he finishes, putting the mug down slowly. “I know.” “Well, if the vid screen medical evidence isn’t absolutely convincing, I have something that is.” I tap the vid screen and it goes to sleep. “Come on, let’s go see Doc and her friend.” “Theo, the good vampire?” Muhammad asks. I hear humor in his voice. “Yes… but if you start singing ‘We’re Off to See the Wizard’, I’ll kick your butt.” I grin widely at him. “OK, ok. No singing.” As we leave, he starts humming the song. “Now wait, you said no singing, but nothing about humming…” We arrive at the Medical Center and buzz for entrance. The hatch slides into the bulkhead quickly and we go in. Theo’s hard at work at Holly’s desk comp, scanning photos or xrays or something of people at an incredible rate. They flicker by and her face is a mask of concentration. Holly comes in from the regular medical area, slipping off her white lab coat and hanging it on the bulkhead. She glances at me and smiles brightly, but then sees Muhammad behind me. Holly runs past me and hugs Muhammad tightly; he picks her up off the floor in a gentle bear hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, Muhammad!” “You, too, Holly!” He lets her down carefully. “You look great! And I hear you and Archer here are working pretty well together.” “Oh, I haven’t strangled him yet…” “Note the ‘yet’ part, Muhammad.” I laugh and then walk over behind Theo. “Find anything unusual, Theo?” “Only one. And that one surprised the hell out of both Holly and me…” She says, finishing the photo scanning. The comp blinks a few times and then turns the vid screen off at her tapped command. “Only one anomaly.” 55

VIS “And what an anomaly…” Holly says, quietly. Muhammad looks at all of us. “OK,” He says slowly. “But first, Archer, the incontrovertible truth you were going to show me?” I look down at Theo. “You’re looking at her.” He smiles at the woman. “Don’t look like a ghul or vampire I’ve even seen or heard of.” “Thank you. I’d hate to look like a ghul—ghoul to you Westerners—they’re pretty nasty looking,” Theo says, conversationally. She stands up and walks over to Muhammad, who towers over her. “But I think I can impress you.” She braces her feet shoulder-width apart, then taking Muhammad by the upper arms, she lifts him slowly into the air with no visible sign of strain on her face. He stiffens in her arms and tries to wriggle loose; she smiles. Then her smile widens, and the fangs begin to descend. He goes absolutely still, his face turning pale. The fangs extend past her lips, and she licks them. Then she slowly, slowly sets the man back down on his two feet, releasing his arms when he’s steady. He backs away, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Ya Allah, protect me from Shaitan and his jinn!” “Not a devil, not a jinn, just an Alliance vampire. Just Theo.” I walk over next to him. “Convinced?” “Good Lord!” He wipes his face slowly, looking at all three of us. “This is for real, it’s not a joke, is it?” “No, Muhammad, no joke. I told Archer it’s like being in a nightmare, but this is for real. It’s true.” Holly walks over too, and gently touches his arm. “It’s real. And Theo is ok. She’s on our side, thank God.”

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VIS Chapter 15 “Archer, did you say Max sent you something?” Muhammad still looks rather shocked by all we’ve told him but he’s rallying quickly. I nod. “Here it is.” I pull the small packet, wrapped in some brown paper, from my side pocket of my khakis. Max had written my name on it in his familiar messy scrawl, and for a moment my heart aches that I won’t be seeing that writing any more. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and open the wrapping. A photo, actually printed on paper, and a comp disk fall out into my hands. Theo, Muhammad and Holly gather around me to look at the photo. It’s a print from a security video, showing a close up of the car—the one that took Max out—and its driver. It’s unmistakably Kurland driving, looking furtive. I sigh and hand the comp disk to Holly. “Mind using your comp set?” “No, not at all, Archer,” she says and quickly lays the disk down on the reader. The comp set purrs for a moment and then a security screen comes up. The program has a question: What was Sarge’s favorite breakfast? All of them look at me questioningly. I walk over and type in, “SOS”, tapping the screen to send my input to the security program. It beeps quickly and then folders open up on the screen. Each one is interactive; you just touch it to open it and read, view or listen to whatever’s inside. “What’s ‘SOS’?” Theo asks. We all laugh. “Shit on a shingle, or corned beef on toast to you civilians. It’s the only thing I’d eat for breakfast for years while in the Corps.” I chuckle. “Only Max would know to ask that…” “Um, that’s certainly a colorful name for food,” Theo says doubtfully. “But you Marines tend to have rather odd senses of humor, I’ve noticed. Not bad, just… odd.” “Yep, that’s us Marines for you,” Muhammad says, grinning. Holly nods. I smile again and then tap on the first folder. A vid of Max opens up. “Archer, if you’re seeing this, then I’ve gone to the Big Bar in the Sky. I’ll be waiting on you, you old bastard, you still owe me a steak dinner. But seriously, sorry about that. I’m trying to be careful, but some weird shit has been going on, and I’m not sure how well I’m doing about covering my tracks.” He looks away for a moment and then back to the camera. “Archer, someone’s following me now, and I found taps on my phone lines. Of course, I have better security programs than the NYPD authorizes, but still… we may have been compromised. I can’t guarantee anything anymore.” I sit down at Holly’s desk. Max continues. “I did some digging around and found out there have been several murders with the same MO as yours. I can pretty much guess that you’ll probably have more vics up there soon, if it’s the same person doing it. The murders seem to have started about a year ago, and were centered around a really nice condo—all atmospheric controlled and whatnot—on 5th Avenue. At least four vics involved, maybe more. Several people are still classified as missing.”

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VIS “The Rogue was busy…” Muhammad says quietly. “Or bored,” Theo replies. Holly shudders and we turn back to the vid. “Same dismemberment, same partially eaten bodies. Three men, one woman. Like I said, there are still a few people who haven’t shown up, but I figure the serial killer figured out how to dispose of the bodies more efficiently. Whoever this is, Archer, and Holly, this person has connections, major connections. When I accessed the files on the 5th Avenue killings, my boss’s boss showed up in my office about two hours later, asking questions. The Company is involved, somehow. They’re the lease owner of the condo; most people who live there are high mucky-mucks in the Company. So that’s going to be an issue.” Oh, great, I think. The Company. That’s all I need, on top of good vampires and bad vampires. I sigh. “The other thing that popped up is the Company is really, really focusing their efforts on getting the ultra-dense minerals found on your asteroid. Apparently, you can fuel engines with this stuff only once, and it’ll last the entire life span of the ship. I’ve also heard the engines are being re-done, upgraded, so the transit times are being drastically shortened. So that’s something else to factor in. All of a sudden, you’re sitting on some hot property. Be prepared to be inundated with Company schmucks.” “Yay,” Holly says drily. “That’s all we need. I’d read about the uses for the new minerals but didn’t know the Company was so interested…” “Any time they can corner the market and make a killing,” I start to say… then stop, pausing the vid. “A killing. Hmmm….” The vid restarts with a tap of my finger. “Tell Holly hi for me, and tell her thanks. She’ll know what for. And thanks, Archer, for being a good friend. You scared the hell out of me at first with your Sergeant act, but you know, you are really good at taking care of your people. Take good care of yourself every once in a while, man. And speaking of, take good care of Cal. He’s my latest and greatest boyfriend. Pretty naïve in some ways but he’s got a great heart. He’s also easy on the eyes if you know what I mean.” Max grins into the camera. “And you still owe me a steak dinner.” He smiles sweetly and then the vid goes blank. We all stare at it for a moment or two in silence; Muhammad, Holly and I are lost in memories. Theo respects our quiet moment, sitting down on the edge of the desk and waiting. Rubbing my forehead briefly, I turn to face my friends. And my friendly vampire, part of my mind reminds me. “OK, troops. What next?” Holly’s turned away for a moment but turns back, her face set. “What’s in the rest of the folders, Archer?” “Let’s look.” I tap each one. Inside the folders—four of them besides the vid of Max—are his notes, photos and evidence sheets from the murders he’s looked into. Coroner’s reports, tox reports, crime

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VIS scene photos and measurements… each meticulously collected and notated by Max. He was thorough, I think, a damn good cop just like he was a damn good Navy corpsman. I miss him. Each of the bodies looks like Frankie’s did. Torn apart, mutilated, showing signs of torture. Most of them are unrecognizable as human beings, actually. My stomach churns and I get up from the desk, walking over to the dispenser unit and dialing up some antacids. Holly takes my place at the desk, looking closely at the photos. She shakes her head slowly. “Looks just like vic number 1.” Theo looks over her shoulder, face grim. “They enjoy playing with their food sometimes. If they’re feeling particularly… hungry.” She taps the screen lightly to pause a photo that’s moving across the vid screen. “She bound them, of course. Makes it more fun for the Rogue.” “Fun?” I say. “Why bother tying them up if you have the strength to tear them limb from limb?” “Because the element of control is there… ultimate control. If you just yank off various body parts all at once, the human dies too quickly and you don’t get to enjoy the blood as much. Adrenaline enhances the taste of the human blood, and the more frightened or frantic you make the human…” Muhammad clears his throat. “That’s just… evil.” Theo smiles whitely. “Luckily for you, the number of Rogues isn’t very high. We’ve managed to keep a pretty tight control over them over centuries. But recently, I think something’s happened to push them out into the open more. It may have to do with the exodus from Earth.” “Social disruption?” I look over at her. She nods. “It makes it easier for them. It makes being more open about their murderous appetites easier. Sometimes when lots of people are moving around, no one notices when some of them disappear. What’s interesting here is that she apparently felt no one would bother her at the condo. Each of these victims was found in a different condo within the complex. But someone was able to keep a tight lid on this investigation.” She looks at the hard copy photo. “Max alerted them by looking into it. And Kurland was sent to stop his investigation, permanently.” Holly grimaces. “Someone in the Company?” “You have security filters on in here?” Muhammad asks, looking seriously at Holly. She smiles at him, nodding. I’d installed the security filters for her in the Medical Center as well as in both our quarters, as well as my little side office, as soon as she got to the Habitat. I’m a big believer in keeping Big Brother out of my hair as much as possible, even if I do wear my hair like a Marine Sergeant should—high and tight. “Yes, someone in the Company. Who else sent Kurland flying up here in a hurry to spring her?” I say slowly. “And what made her think she could just come here and start butchering people, like she did in the Company condo in New New York? Like Holly explained to me, these… Rogues… are sociopaths, and they tend to think they’re unstoppable. And they’re not. We’ve shown that.” Theo stands up. “Yes, you’re right. They are tough but not impossible to stop. But I’ll need to let the Alliance know that Rogues are definitely on the move, and they’re interested in the Company, as 59

VIS well as this Habitat. That will mean more problems for us, you know. I may have to ask for more help from the Alliance.” She touches the bandages on her neck. “I could handle one Rogue by myself, but more would be… difficult.” Oh, yay, my mind says. More vampires. But I think I’d rather have more of the good ones than the bad ones… at least Theo hasn’t eaten any of us. Yet. I sigh, deeply. “Yep, sounds like we may have to circle the wagons, Pilgrims.” “Did Kurland show any outward signs of being a Servant?” Muhammad asks, rubbing his beard with one hand. “Anything we could pick up, as regular folks?” Theo shrugs. “He might… I know I could tell right away, but I’m not sure if you all could.” “I could. He said something about the Masters coming…” I walk over to the coffee pot and get a cup. “When he was telling me I had to release the Rogue. He said I’d pay for it if I didn’t.” At the time, I thought he was a basket case, but now, knowing what I know… I’m wishing I’d said something earlier to Theo. “Masters as in plural?” Theo crosses her arms and frowns at me. “More than one? Why didn’t you tell me this before, Archer?” “I’ve had quite a bit on my mind… and I thought at first he was just a regular old looney.” I feel sort of embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Theo. It just slipped.” “This is important. I definitely have to get in touch with my people,” she says. “I’m going to my quarters; I’ll be back after a while. Holly, if you can, make up a few more ‘cocktails’ for me, if you wouldn’t mind. We’ll probably need them.” She stalks out of the office. “Well, I know what I’ll be doing for the next few hours,” Holly says quietly. “Don’t take it too hard, Archer, we’re all kind of overwhelmed. This is just like living a nightmare.” “Yeah, yeah…” I sigh again. “That was just stupid of me to forget.” Muhammad smiles. “We’re all human, man. Don’t sweat it.” He pats me on the back. “I’m heading to my quarters; I’ll check on Cal, too. I could use some real sleep, and I need to do my prayers. I’ll check back with you two later.” After he leaves, I finish my coffee and put the cup down in one of the sinks in the office. “We’ve got quite a collection of cups here, Holly, I’ll wash up.” “Love it! Put an apron on while you’re at it,” she chortles. “I’m starting the ‘cocktails’ now. You probably don’t want to get too close to me while I’m mixing things.” She walks over to where I’m standing by the sink. “So I’ll do this now…” She kisses me, slowly, softly. If this is what happens when I wash dishes, I think, I’ll be doomed to dishpan hands for life! I kiss her back and she sighs softly.

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VIS “All right, all right, back to work, galley boy.” She squeezes my arms and then walks away, smiling. I go to work scrubbing out coffee cups with a smile on my face, the troubles of the past few days temporarily banished from my head. Temporarily.

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VIS Chapter 16 “Archer, wake up!” I groan. “Archer! Come on, wake up!” I roll over, wrapped in my blanket and sheet, and look bleary-eyed into Holly’s face. Muhammad’s standing behind her and something looks different about him, but I can’t place it for a moment. Then I sit up. “What the hell, man, you shaved your beard!” Then I yawn widely. “Why?” He grins. “To be a little less conspicuous here, plus Holly told me she wouldn’t guarantee a thing if I had to suit up to go outside the Habitat, in a beard.” What the hell? I wonder. Why would you want to do that? OK, it’s too early and I’m just too damn sleepy. I lie back down and cover my head with the blanket. “Call me later when you make sense.” “Get up and I’ll make you some coffee…” Holly says quietly. “The three of us need to talk.” “Um, ok,” I grumble. I’m not a bright eyed and bushy tailed person when I wake up. “Coffee sounds good.” I slowly get up—luckily I chose to keep my briefs on, otherwise they’d both be getting an eyeful right now—and then stretch. I then decide to pull some new khakis on and a t-shirt and I’m ready for caffeine. “Want any SOS? I could probably find something close,” Muhammad laughs, gesturing at the kitchen dispenser. I groan and shake my head no. “Just coffee. Or I’ll go back to bed.” “Grump!” Holly hands me a steaming mug and I inhale, deeply. It’s not really coffee, of course, it’s reconstituted something that smells and tastes like coffee. I miss the real thing, though; haven’t had it for years. Plus, now, it’s out of my pay grade. This is close enough. After a sip or two, I sit down on my couch and the two of them join me. “OK, so what’s up that you have to wake a tired old veteran from his well-earned sleep?” “It’s just that…” Holly stops, her brow furrowed. “I was looking at the notes Theo took when she scanned all the Habitat personnel. And then I talked with Muhammad, and we thought we should tell you.” Oh, lovely, I think. Now what? Can’t I just go back to breaking up bar fights and shit like that? “She found something interesting but she apparently didn’t feel like sharing it with all of us.” Muhammad looks serious. “Of course, I got into the comp and found her notes, and then… well, it’s like Holly said, we thought we should talk with you.” “Is she not as pure as the driven snow?” I rub my eyes. “Not quite the knight in shining armor?” “No… she’s ok, I guess.” He looks over at Holly and she nods a little. “It’s that she found at least one anomaly among Habitat personnel, that she told us about, and three that she didn’t tell us about.”

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VIS I remember now… they’d been talking about what a surprise the anomaly had been. “Who’s the one she was going to tell us about?” “Helga.” Holly stands up and starts pacing. “Helga, of all people. Apparently, she’s been a Servant at some point in time; her blood shows it.” “Ack!” I choke on my coffee. “Helga? Giant Helga? Good grief. She’s a Servant?” “Well, that’s what the blood work says, and what Theo told me.” Holly’s still pacing. “But there are three other results that are just as surprising, and what’s really surprising is that she didn’t tell us about them. She just noted some things, she thought privately. And Muhammad found them, and cracked the cipher she used.” “Who else? More Servants?” “Two more of those,” Muhammad says, watching Holly pace, his head moving slowly back and forth. “And one Alliance member. Apparently deep undercover.” “One of the good vampires, then.” I nod. “OK, who is it?” “Stan, the bartender.” Holly sounds faintly amused. “I think he’s gotten into his human role way, way too much. Either that, or some Alliance vampires have weight and hygiene issues.” “Great disguise,” I reply, thinking. “Sure doesn’t look like Theo, or Camilla, for that matter. Great way to collect information, too. Bartenders hear all sorts of shit.” I’m still surprised as hell, though. Who’da thunk it? Stan, the slob, is really a vampire, capable of tearing my arms off? I chuckle softly. “The two other Servants…” Muhammad says softly, “we know who they are, and we know Theo’s set up some surveillance on them. One’s a pilot, the other works as a chemist in one of the metals labs here in the mine.” “She has her own surveillance stuff?” My eyes widen in surprise. “Really? Better than ours?” “As good as ours. I’ve scanned our quarters. I found surveillance bots in the Medical Center, though, and in Stan’s bar as well as the Shuttle Agent’s office. Our quarters are fine. So’s your secret cubbyhole. Or love nest, or whatever you want to call it,” Muhammad laughs, watching my face redden. “Yeah, yeah, can’t hide a thing from an old cop, man. I know all about you two. InshAllah, you’ll make a nice couple.” Holly laughs. “At some point, I actually was going to tell you, Muhammad. But you’ve figured it out already… we’re just dating, though. Right, Archer?” I nod. “Yep.” Play it cool, act like it’s no big deal. Who knows, it might work out, it might not. Be cool. I put my empty coffee cup down on the coffee table in front of the couch, pushing one of my old work shirts out of the way. Housekeeping hasn’t been high on my list of things to do recently. “Well, it’ll be good to see you two work things out,” Muhammad smiles, reaching to stroke his now non-existent beard and catching himself. “I’ll have to get used to no beard, though, man.” 63

VIS “What’s up with wanting to suit up?” Muhammad looks more serious. “Because I got thinking… if these Rogues really want this Habitat, they’re not going to be content with just sending various personnel on shuttles. They’re going to bring in heavier stuff. And we need to think outside the box, and be ready for them. I was thinking about setting up a missile defense system. I have contacts in the Force, still, who’ll give me some ‘fallen off the truck’ parts. I can set things up off the radar. The Company will never know. Only us.” Jesus Christ on a pancake! Missiles? Part of me whines again, I just want to be a little old sheriff. Ok, that’s not gonna happen. Go to plan B. If there is a plan B. “Well, you did work as an FO, so you know missiles and arty. You sure you can set this up without anyone knowing? How good are your contacts in the Force?” “Solid people. Like us,” he laughs. “People we can trust. And yes, I can do it. I just have to order some things, have it shipped here. You know, pipes in boxes. For plumbing. And stuff.” “Uh-huh.” I nod. “If you say you can do it, I know you can, Muhammad. What do you think, Holly?” She’s stopped pacing and is looking at us intently. “I have half a mind to steal one of the shuttles and run like hell. But that won’t stop them. The other half of my mind is already trying to figure out how to mass produce the ‘martinis’ we’ll need. And figure out a better method of delivering them.” “Sounds like the Jarhead I’ve known for so long.” I stand up and walk over to her, hug her. “We’ll work this out. Together.” She hugs back and then Muhammad joins us, putting his hands on our shoulders. “Yes, we will. I’ll be damned if some weird vampire is going to mess with me and my friends,” he rumbles. “We’ve been through too much already. Let’s fix this problem and get back to enjoying our semi-retirements.” “OK, you got it, man,” I nod. “Let’s do this thing, whatever it takes… Semper Fi.” “Semper Fi!” They chorus, instantly. We break apart, laughing, like old times. And then we set to work.

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VIS Chapter 17 Holly sighs as she sits down. “Finally! Now we have 40 of the ‘cocktails’ ready. How are you two doing on your ramped-up delivery system?” I look up from the table where Muhammad and I have spread out the weapon we’re making. It should, theoretically, deliver the ‘cocktail’ from a safe distance. After seeing the shape Theo had been in when she delivered the concoction up close and personal, we thought we could improve the delivery a bit. “Well, it looks like a cross between a cross bow and a blow gun, but despite that… and maybe some more tinkering… I think we have something.” Muhammad laughs tiredly. “What that something is, remains to be seen…” He hefts it carefully and then aims it at the target we’ve drawn on the bulkhead. He pulls the trigger and there’s a satisfying “pfft!” noise as the air cartridge releases a jolt into the chamber. If there had been a syringe in there, hopefully it would’ve hit the target. We’re still working on that, I think. I think we have time. I tap one of the syringe holders. “If we can just make sure this works ok, we’ll be set.” “How are we going to do that? Shoot each other in the butt?” Holly chuckles. I grin back. “Not too far off from my nefarious plans, my pretty,” I croon wickedly. I take the weapon from Muhammad’s hands, load an empty syringe holder in the chamber, and check to see that the air cartridge recharged. “Bend over, sweetheart.” “Not on your ever-lovin’ life, buster,” Holly growls. She rolls one of the chairs towards me. “Try it out on an inanimate object, please.” “If you insist,” I sigh. Then I aim and fire… the syringe cartridge whacks loudly into the chair, knocking it back against the opposite wall of the compartment. We all cheer, and Holly picks up the holder from the deck. “And you were going to whack me with this?” “Just joking,” I smile. “Really.” “Uh-huh.” She tosses it back at me. “You guys practice a while. How many of those can we make?” Muhammad looks at the table, counting in his head. “At least two more, maybe three. We can always scrounge more if we need it. I’m a great scrounger.” I put the weapon down and look at the two of them. “You know, this part has been actually kind of fun.” “Yeah,” Muhammad agrees. “Like old times, but in a good way.” “But there’s something I need to get off my chest,” I sit down in another chair. “Something that’s been bugging the hell out of me all day.”

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VIS “Ok, what’s up, man?” Muhammad leans against the table and Holly stops putting ‘cocktail’ in syringes to listen. “Holly, you’ve been giving me sleeping pills for at least two or three days. It’s the only way I can sleep. And you know I don’t like pills.” She nods and I continue. “We’ve been wandering around here for a few days in shock. We’ve seen a human dismembered, a human tortured and drained of her blood, another human stabbed in the eye and killed… not to mention he turned to dust almost immediately thereafter. And then we saw what happened to someone who took out one of the Rogues. And she does that, apparently, for a living.” “Yes,” Holly says, slowly. “I know. I do think we’ve been pretty much in shock.” I nod. “Yep, and I think it’s wearing off. I’m starting to get really angry.” “Angry?” Muhammad asks. “Not frightened?” “Well, that too. But mostly pissed off. And I’ll tell you why. The damn Rogues see us as dinner. They don’t give a shit about us humans. And the Alliance… they don’t, really, either. We’re just pawns, little helpers in their big war between them and the nut cases.” I look down to see that I’ve clenched my fists. “And I’m tired of being the poor feller in the middle. It’s like living in between the Hatfields and McCoys, and getting the hell shot out of you every day. Just because you’re there.” “But we are here, Archer,” Holly says, quietly. “And we have to figure out a way to survive.” “Yes, we do. But we also need to sit Miss Theo down and let her know we’re not going to be good little boys and girls unless she’s more open and honest with us. We need to stop all this killing. I know the rumor mill’s going a klick a minute anyway, ever since Frankie and Vespania died. It’s going to destabilize the personnel here in a serious way, and we can’t afford that. It’ll lead to more trouble than the Rogues are themselves.” “What’s going to make her want to do that, Archer?” Muhammad looks exhausted. “I’m a cop, I know how to read people, but I get the feeling with her, she’s reading us like a book, and we’re not even able to decipher her alphabet yet…” “She needs us. That Rogue just about took her out. She can’t deal with it on her own if more show up. And we know they’re coming; they’ve been sending Servants out ahead, apparently.” I force myself to stretch out my hands; clenching them just makes them ache, anyway. “So she needs us. We need her. But no more games, and if there’s going to be more killing, then we need to let people know what’s going on, and why. But we can control how we let them know. We need to avoid… mass… panic.” Theo walks in as I finish. She stops, looking from one of us to the other, assessing that we’ve been doing some serious talking, most likely about her, from our expressions. Then she smiles. “Hello, all. Had a nice conversation?” Holly gestures at her work bench and then at the table where our two, maybe three, prototype weapons are. “Conversation and work. How about you?” 66

VIS “I’ve been in touch with my superiors. They’re going to try to send a couple more agents like me out here, but they’re running into some issues Earthside.” She looks worried, I think. As well she might. “Glad to see how much progress you’ve all made.” “We were also talking about you, and the Rogues,” I tell her. “About how we’re not content to be pawns for you Alliance people, or dinner for the Rogues.” “Pawns?” She raises an eyebrow, coolly, as she hefts one of the air rifles. “Pawns? Really?” “Yeah. That’s how I see it. We’re your disposable foot soldiers in your great war against the Rogues. And I personally don’t feel like being disposable.” I stand up, looking her in the eye. “I also don’t like it when a supposed ally puts spybots around our working areas, to gather intel about us.” She blushes, much to my surprise. “I told HQ that was a bad idea. It wasn’t my idea, for sure. Sorry about that. I’ll remove them.” “Really?” Muhammad asks. “And why should we believe you now?” “Because I’m the only thing holding back the Rogues from having this whole station as a mobile human ranch,” she replies, putting the air rifle down carefully. There’s anger in her voice, answering the anger in Muhammad’s. “Their Servants are here already, and we know more Rogues are coming soon. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be dealing with one.” “Ok, ok,” Holly says. “We’re really all on the same side, people. We’re just operating under a great deal of stress. If we start tearing each other apart, we’re doing the Rogue’s jobs for them.” She stands up, walks over to Theo, and hugs her. “We need your help, but we also need to know you trust us, and don’t see us as mere cannon fodder.” “I never have. If it came across that way, I’m sorry.” Theo rests her head tiredly on Holly’s shoulder for a moment. “On Earth, I had so many more resources. Here… it’s hard. Very hard. And I’m scared, too.” “We all are,” I reply. “But we’ve been trained to deal with fear. We just have to be able to trust each other.” “I promise. I’ll be more open in the future about the plans, and no more spybots.” Theo stands free of Holly, looking us over. “And I’ll tell you if some shit is going to hit the fan. OK?” “Sounds better,” Muhammad says. “A lot better.” “Good. Let’s do some practicing with these,” Holly says, tapping the rifles. “And we need to talk about Helga.” “You’re right, both counts.” Theo nods. “First off, Helga.” Holly pales. “She’s worked so well here…”

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VIS “Yes, I know.” Theo sighs. “But the scan is unequivocal. She’s been a Servant, apparently several years ago.” “What the hell do we do with her? She’s a massive woman. I’d sure hate to try to tackle her.” I grin. “Are all Servants dangerous?” “If their Master dies, usually they’re traded or just given to another. Or they’re fed upon.” Theo’s brow scrunches up as she thinks, hard. “But…” “How long ago was Helga one of… those things?” Muhammad asks. “Could she be cured?” “Never cured. Perhaps contained is a better word. I’m quite surprised she didn’t immediately fall under the Rogue’s control here in the Medical Center.” Theo pulls up Helga’s medical file. “That’s what makes me wonder.” “OK…” I look over her shoulder; most of it is meaningless to me but it looks impressive. “What the hell is all that?” “It’s her DNA profile. Servants show marked changes in areas where the Rogue blood interacts with human blood. She shows some changes, but not complete ones. That’s interesting. She may have begun to be a Servant, but something interrupted the process.” She closes the screen, looks at us. “The best way to find out is two-fold—I get more DNA samples from her and we talk with her.” “Um, excuse me, Miss Helga, but have you been a Servant to the Undead?” I say in a falsetto. “Just wondering…” Theo laughs, as do Muhammad and Holly. “You’re crazy, Archer!” “Crazy like a fox,” I reply. “Holly, why don’t you and Theo here have a little heart to heart with Helga. You know, girl talk. Muhammad and I can stand by, loaded for bear. How does that sound?” “Sounds fine to me. If there’s any way to salvage Helga, I’d sure like to try. She’s a good woman, or has seemed like one for the couple of years she’s worked for me.” Holly looks at Theo. “Ready?” “Now’s as good as ever,” Theo replies, standing up. “Let’s go talk with Helga, boys and girls.” I catch her eye. “Boys and girls, huh?” I remember the conversation Muhammad, Holly and I had before Theo arrived at the Medical Center and wonder how much Theo’s figured out. “Yeah, Archer.” She smiles casually. “I know, I know, I treated you like children. No more. And I’ll try to hold the… clean ups… down to a bare minimum. You get to figure out how to tell a bunch of miners and whatnot here that we’re going to be invaded by hungry, angry vampires.” “Gee, thanks, Miss Theo!” I laugh hollowly. “I’ll get to thinkin’ on that, ma’am, I shorely will.” I pick up one of the air rifles, and so does Muhammad. Holly hands us a couple of loaded syringes. “Will this work on Helga, too?”

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VIS “It’ll drop her dead in her tracks,” Theo says conversationally. “It just won’t dissolve her like a Rogue.” “Yay.” We head off to find Helga in her quarters and have a little chat.

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VIS Chapter 18 Helga answers her door on the first buzz. “Doctor Holly!” She looks surprised to see us behind Holly, but nods then and lets us in. “Please, you come in now. I give you tea.” “Thanks, Helga. Sorry to intrude like this on your free time, but we have some questions for you.”Holly smiles bravely at her and walks past the hulking Slavic woman. Muhammad follows, nodding his head to her, then Theo. Then I bring up the rear. The air rifles look incongruous and Helga’s eyes widen appreciably as she notes them; I’m trying to hold mine fairly inconspicuously by my left leg, but Muhammad’s cradling his in his arms. “Guns? For what?” Helga closes the hatchway and puts her hands on her hips. “You no need guns with Helga. I OK.” “Do you know what this is about?” Theo asks. “Yah, yah. I know you for what you are. You’re a Hunter. I was with a Master for a bit as a young girl. I got aways. I not a Servant no more. I got aways from all that. Then I see the Master in the isolation room.” Helga shudders. “She try to influence me. I pray real hard, say no inside. She was mad. That why I enjoy sitting her down hard on table. She could pull my head off, but I not care. She trying to act normal then anyways.” “So she tried with you?” Theo eyes her. “Sure she didn’t influence you at all?” Helga bristles. “I tell you truth. You can test. I not care. I work for Doctor Holly now, I am good woman.” “OK.” Theo opens a small black box she’s taken from a pocket in her pants. “Let me scan you.” Helga holds out a hand. “You go ahead. The rest, you have tea. It’s ready.” “You knew we were coming?” I ask, looking at the mugs on her table. She grins as Theo concentrates on the tiny vid screen on her scanner, as it passes over Helga’s large hand. “No…” “Then who’s coming for tea?” I gesture with my head toward the steaming tea pot on the table. “Your buddies?” “Yah. My mah jong buddies. We play every Wednesday.” She laughs, a deep belly chortle. “You see.” “The scan is ok,” Theo says slowly, surprised. “She’s not actively… infected. There are still traces of Rogue blood, but not enough. Obviously not enough, or she would’ve been instantly affected by the Rogue in the isolation room. And then Holly would be dead.” “Doctor Holly no hurt by me, or by anyone. I stop ‘em!” Helga says forcefully. “Doctor Holly been nice to me, when not many nice. Most people hear me, think, ‘Stupid woman, no speaking English so good’, but I not stupid. I just not have chance at school. But I learn to be medical assistant. Yah!” 70

VIS “And you’re an excellent one, Helga!” Holly agrees, nodding. “Very good.” “I am thanking you. Now, you all sit, have tea. I get more mugs.” She bustles into the kitchen area, and I hear the dispenser chugging away. She soon emerges with four new white mugs in her hands. “Here, tea is good. You sit!” We all sit down, Muhammad and I rather shamefacedly hiding our air rifles on the other side of the table. Helga looks and then laughs. “Here, I put in kitchen…” “No, no, that’s ok. I will,” I say, and quickly do so. “Now we have tea.” “Helga, do you have time to talk?” Holly looks her over. “Or do you want to talk later, after your friends visit?” “No, they be here soon but I talk now. Then I talk later. All good. I was young girl, in Transylvania. Rich woman come to Mama, ask for me to help at her big house. Good money, food. I go. I send all money home, help Mama and the kids. Lady is nice to me at first but I learn she is…” Helga pauses, thinking of a word. “Strange? Odd. Yes, not a good lady. Very rich. Not good. She do many odd things. I notice some of her guests same way. Some guests, they have friends… come with them to visit, no leave. I worry. I try to leave, she keep me in her room. Very strong. Bad lady. She stick me with teeths. I gets sick.” “There’s usually a severe auto-immune response,” Theo says quietly. “A lot of Servants-to-be end up as dinner instead, when they don’t do well.” “I strong, like ox.” Helga grins, pouring our tea. “I survive. Then I get stronger. Then… I see the very bad things they do. Very bad. I pray hard, they laugh. Tell me my God no work no more.” She crosses herself. “But I know different. They think I be good for them. I do things with them… embarrass. But ok. I keep thinking, ‘Helga, you smart. You get away soon, not go back.’ So one day, they think they trust me so much. They let me drive car to village for foods. I just keep driving! Hah!” “Didn’t they come after you?” Theo crosses her arms, not touching her tea. I sip a little, just to be sociable. Muhammad’s still looking pretty tense but Holly’s staring intently at Helga, her eyes wide. “Oh, yah. They come. I have big family. My brothers, I tell how bad the lady is, and her friends. My brothers, they fight with them. I fight with them, even when I feel bad, very sick. Like my head is breaking,” Helga says slowly. “But the more I fights them, the better I feels.” “Really?” Muhammad sounds interested. “Why?” “She’s breaking their control, the hard way.” Theo looks impressed. “Very hard. Very impressive. Did you kill any of them?” “Well, yah… some of them, they fall down mountain. Oh, yah. Silly tourists. They not know mountain like we do. We live there forever.” Helga gulps her tea down. “I decide then, take some money, go to Habitat. Go away from the bad ones. My family, they sad but they know is best. I get blessed by priest, I come here. I OK now.” 71

VIS I smile. “So it seems, ma’am. You’ve had a rough time!” “Yah, not too bad. I have all this, I have Doctor Holly. She is nice to me, not yell or nothing. At least not much.” Helga laughs. Her hatch buzzes. “Ah, my friends for the game. You stay, we deal you in, yah?” “No, I think we’ll go. Do you have a sheet I can wrap… what we were carrying?” I nod towards the kitchen. “Sure thing. You wait one.” She hurries off to another spot in her compartment, comes back with a bright blue sheet. “You take this. It work well for you.” “OK, thanks, Helga,” I say, as I quickly wrap the two air rifles. The buzzer bings again and she waits a moment until I’m completely done wrapping before opening the door. Three woman come in, each almost as large as Helga, and stop in surprise. Helga says something in a language that doesn’t have enough vowels, and the women laugh. “I tell them this social hour!” She waves them to the table, and they begin to spread the mah jong tiles on it quickly. “They all good women. You come back and we talk more, or I come see you. OK?” “Yah, I mean, yes,” I nod, grinning. Helga slaps me on the back, temporarily knocking my breath out and jarring my teeth together but I keep the grin on my face. I know good people when I meet one. The rest of our little group nods and bows our way out of Helga’s apartment. As Holly leaves, Helga picks her up off her feet in a bear hug. “You da best, Doc,” she says quietly. “No one hurts you. Not when Helga here.” “Ooof!” is the best Holly can manage. Helga gently puts her down and smiles at her. Holly grins back. “You’re a good woman, Helga. I knew you were. We’ll talk more, I promise. Good evening, ladies!” The women at the table wave at us as we leave. “That went well,” Holly says to no one in particular. Theo nods. “I’m so surprised. I’ve never met a human who successfully overcame Servant status, but she definitely has. That’s amazing. And important. We need to let the Alliance know that it’s possible. We just never thought it was.” “Well, we’re all learning,” Muhammad says quietly. “All of us.”

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VIS Chapter 19 “Helga was a hell of a surprise,” I mutter to Muhammad as we walk behind Theo and Holly. We’re heading back to my office, to try to sift through the passenger lists for the upcoming shuttles. My comp set’s connected to the Company’s shuttle system; it’s just more bother than I usually want to mess with. Never have liked computers much. “Yes, brother, she was.” He nods. Rubs his bare chin. “Surprises keep popping up all over the place here.” Don’t I know it, I think. I’m an old Marine sergeant; I don’t much like surprises. “You know how I feel about surprises, don’t you, Hajji?” “Oh yes!” He laughs. “The infamous birthday party in Tikrit.” We’d be in country for over a year; joke was, the Pentagon had forgotten where they sent us, so they couldn’t do the paperwork to bring us home. Thing was, I’ve known stranger things to happen in the Pentagon. Last time I was there, I was weirded out when a full colonel in the Army served me coffee. Me, a gunnery sergeant in the Corps. And that was the colonel’s full time job, serving coffee. And you wonder why we screw things up… The heat and dust were awful. Dust would jam your weapon sure as hell exactly when you needed it most; the heat dropped a lot of men and women without a bullet or piece of shrapnel hitting them. When it hits 130 degrees F in the shade, at 10 AM, you know it’s gonna be a tough day. That was the way it was, though. You chugged water and let it seep out of you. You cleaned your weapons obsessively. You waited for patrol, and then on patrol, you waited for the huge dull thud of an IED going off nearby. Then you got your wounded out of there as fast as you could. Rarely did we see enough of the enemy to engage them in a firefight but when we did, we kicked ass. It was my 32nd birthday. I’d tried very hard to keep it a secret. Sergeants don’t have birthdays. Some people wonder if sergeants are even born the way a regular human is; some say we’re hatched instead. I preferred to keep my troops in the dark about my personal life and personal dates; I always managed to keep track of their important dates, though, like their re-up dates, anniversaries, birthdays. Always had a head for that, for some reason. Anyway, I thought it was a well-kept secret, but I hadn’t counted on Muhammad and my radio operator, Lance Corporal Shanna Hillis. She knew everything about everyone, which made her a great choice for radio operator. Her Tennessee accent probably made it harder for the enemy to understand transmissions in the clear, too, which couldn’t hurt. She was a tall, beautiful, athletic woman with reddish brown hair and a Southern drawl from here to Texas. She’d been talking with Muhammad and I hadn’t wondered much about it, being a little busy myself keeping track of a platoon of Devil Dogs. No big deal; he’s the forward air observer and she’s the platoon radio operator. No wonder they’re talking so much, I remember thinking. Well, what they were doing was planning my birthday bash. They’d hired a very large hairy dude named Ahmed who was going to pretend to be a beautiful stripper; they’d badgered the company 73

VIS cook into making a semblance of a cake, and they’d scrounged around until they found all the grapes, peaches, and oranges they could. Then they mixed all that up with some ethanol and let it sit for a while in the sun. Yum, yum. I was called into the com tent by Lance Corporal Hillis. “Sarge, we got us a problem over here.” “Well, hell’s bells, what now?” I muttered grumpily. “Lost your radio? Decide you want to be in the Navy instead? Or something worse?” “Aw, Sarge, it’s not so bad, just come over here and talk with me.” She smiled widely, holding the flap of the tent open for me. Dust blew in, but not too much, as we entered. It was dark as Hades in there, and I stopped short, not knowing where everything was. Last thing I wanted to do was bark a shin on a desk. The Corps makes tough men and women, but it makes tough equipment too. “What the hell, where’s the fucking lights?” I yell in my best Gunnery Sergeant tones. “SURPRISE!!!” About forty voices bellow back and I almost trample Hillis, backing up toward the tent opening. “Happy Birthday, Gunny!” Various other not-so-share-with-your-Momma salutations and greetings are yelled out, much to my Marines’ merriment and my embarrassment. “Hillis!!! Asad!!!” I yell, looking around for the two culprits. Now I know why they were spending so damn much time together! Someone presses a canteen cup into my hand and my eyes open wide in surprise. The company commander, who I thought was a straight-arrow ring-knocker from the Academy, grins at me. “32, huh? You’re older than I am, so drink up, Gunny. Drink up!” Well, if an officer orders you to do something, I think… and then slug the concoction back with one swallow. I hold out the canteen cup for more and it’s instantly filled. My eyes finally start to adjust and then someone thinks to turn the lights on, finally; the tent is full of Marines in various stages of inebriation. Or it could be dehydration or exhaustion; take your pick. I swallow more of the swill and allow them to guide me to a chair in the middle of the tent. Someone starts the music and I roll my eyes. Belly-dancing music jams out of the player, and everyone laughs and starts trying to do their own version. Then a large, very veiled person sways through the crowd and begins to move in front of me. What gives it away, before all the veils come off, thankfully, are the hairy ankles. I’ve seen some hairy women in my life, but nothing like this. Gotta be a guy, I think, and bolt from the chair. He screeches and tries to follow me, but I hold him off with one hand while finishing my third or fourth drink with the other. “La, la, la, la…” I bellow, remembering the Arabic for “no!” The crowd goes ape. “Kiss her, Sarge!” “She’s all for you, man!” “Uuuurah! Gung ho! Gung ho!”

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VIS I push the dancer down onto the chair and whip off the face veil, revealing a very happy, grinning, bearded Iraqi man. “Habby Birthday, Sarge!” he chortles, and I break down laughing. The infamous part comes when we all tried to wake up the next day. The hootch we’d been guzzling wasn’t so great tasting going in and it sure as hell wasn’t tasting great later, either. The platoon staggered around for a day or so holding their heads with their hands… but even though I was one of those head-holders, I made damn sure we got our jobs done. Plus I had extra cake, so maybe the carbs helped, I don’t know. My mind quickly returns from its brief trip down memory lane to find Muhammad looking at me with fondness in his eyes. It’s not a look I’m used to getting from a fellow male Marine and my face turns red. “So what are you looking at, Jarhead?” I growl. “You, Sarge. Just you. Those were some pretty good times, most of them.” He tosses his head back and laughs. “InshAllah, we’ll have more good times soon. Once we get all this taken care of.” The two women have reached the office ahead of us and Holly lets the two of them in, waiting at the hatch for us. “Come on, lame-asses. I swear, you’re both slower than my grandmother, and she was 98 when she died. Come on…” She grins at us. “Slow pokes. You need to drop and give me twenty!” “Ma’am, yes ma’am!!” We chorus. And then drop and give her twenty. Theo looks back out into the corridor and looks thoroughly confused. Which is fine in my mind, I think, as we pump out the pushups. Keep her a little off balance as payback!

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VIS Chapter 20 “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve asked you here,” I say, looking out over the audience. It’s full of supervisors from the mines, the laboratory directors, the Shuttle Agent (remarkably awake and alert, for him, I’m impressed), Holly, Helga and her lady friends, Muhammad, and Theo. Stan’s there too since we’re meeting in his bar. As usual, he’s wiping a glass slowly with a rag, leaning on the fake wood of the bar, looking bored. I watch him closely. You’d never know, never suspect, that he’s a chubby equivalent of Theo—he’s an undercover Alliance agent, a “good” vampire. Jesus, he looks like a schmuck. But apparently he’s just as able to take care of Rogues as Theo is, just as deadly. I shrug slightly and turn back to the audience before they get too restive. I spot Cal in the front, his eyes wide and frightened looking. Muhammad and Holly had sat the boy down and explained things ahead of time, so he’s still getting used to the idea of vampires. And why Max was murdered. “OK. People, listen up. I’m not going to sugar coat this for you; I’m an old Gunnery Sergeant from the Corps, as most of you know, and I’m telling it to you straight. We’ve got a big problem headed our way, and I need your help. If we don’t work together on this—tightly—we’ll be screwed. OK?” I stand with my hands on my hips, looking at the various faces looking at me. They look confused, a little angry, worried. I continue. “The problem is, we’ve got some visitors coming on an unscheduled shuttle flight. An offthe-record one. The Company’s behind it. These visitors… you don’t want to take them home to meet your Momma. They’re bad news. And we have to be ready to fight them off. This is serious, people.” “Oh, come on, Sheriff,” Matilda Hays, one of the mine shift supervisors stands up. Her black hair flows in a long pony tail down her back and sways as she talks. “What the hell are you talking about? Fight them off?! This has never happened… anywhere. And what do you mean, the Company’s behind it?” “They’re the ones sending the unscheduled shuttle. We have the proof if you want to see it,” and I gesture with one hand toward the make-shift screen, a white sheet, behind me. Muhammad aims his comp at it and the vids begin to flash up on the screen. Shots of the supposedly secret shuttle transmissions, its flight path and ETA, its contents. “But I have some more news you’ll have to digest. About the visitors.” This is where it gets dicey, I think. Either they’ll go for it when we show them Theo, and the photos of the Rogue, or they’ll run around like damn chickens with their heads cut off. Last thing in the world I want, but we have to convince at least these guys that this is real. They’ll help us convince the working men and women of the Habitat. If I don’t convince these bozos, I’m not going to be able to convince anyone here. “Um, the visitors. OK. I’m going to tell you something that may make you think I’ve either gotten into some serious crazy juice, or I’m off my rocker. But it’s true. The visitors are called Rogues, and they’re vampires.” The crowd murmurs and I see Matilda throw her hands up in the air like I’m 76

VIS crazy, but I go on, plowing ahead. “Seriously. We have proof. We can show you all the photos you want of the one Rogue we caught and eliminated. She was the murderer behind Frankie Smith’s death and Vespania Von Drehle’s death. Camilla Parker was the name and ID she was using, but she’d taken that from another human she killed Earthside.” A couple of men stand up and start to walk out. “Wait a second! Let me finish, at least. I know this sounds insane. I thought so too, when I first heard it. But it’s real. And we need your help with dealing with it.” The men pause. Holly stands up, then climbs up onto the table next to me. “He’s right. As your doctor, I’ve seen all sorts of things, variations on human physiology. But these things… the Rogues… they’re not human. They’re something else. I’ve seen the evidence, and I’m not going to lie to you. I’m scared, really scared. But if we work together, we have a chance. Not a large one, but at least we have one.” The men and women are silent now, staring at us. Cal looks faint; I hope he doesn’t keel over. “Yeah, the doc’s right. These critters ain’t human, folks. They’ve lived amongst us for many, many years; there’s good ones—called the Alliance—and bad ones—called Rogues. The Rogues enjoy torturing, killing and dismembering humans. We’re walking dinners for them. The Alliance—well, they developed an analogue for human blood, so they don’t feed off us. They do try to control the worst Rogues, but something’s happened.” I look at Theo. “Something’s happened that they aren’t sure they completely understand. The Rogues are on the move, and they’re apparently coming here. They want the ultra-dense mineral deposits you guys have found. Probably so they can spread further into the systems; it’s great fuel, you all know that.” “But why drag the Company in on it?” Matilda asks. “Because the Company’s Board of Directors is controlled by Rogues,” Muhammad says, standing up. He turns, facing her and the rest of the audience. “I’m just here from Earthside. A good friend of mine, and the Sheriff, and the Doc, was killed by one of the Rogue’s servants. He was a cop, in New New York, and he was investigating some apparent serial killings. They were committed probably by the woman calling herself Camilla Parker; she is—or was—highly connected with the legal department of the Company, lived in Company condos, was paid by the Company. A little more research shows that several of the Board of Directors have recently retired rather suddenly, and they’ve been replaced by Rogues.” “Really?” Matilda sounds sarcastic. “And what conspiracy network did your comp find this on?” “None. This is investigative work, done by us, quietly.” He stares at her. “No conspiracy nut theories here. Just facts that we’re putting together. The Company has been taken over by the Rogues, since they want free access to the Habitat and the mineral. They’ve been buying long-distance ships, too.” “And we have someone here who might be more convincing than photos on the sheet behind me,” I say. “Theo, why don’t you come up here and introduce yourself?” I climb down off the table, and

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VIS hold a hand for Holly as she gets down, too. Theo stands up, straightens her coveralls, and then springs from the floor to the table in one bounce. “I’m Theo. Theodosia Almando.” She tosses her hair back from her face, looking at the audience. You get the feeling she’s looking inside you somehow when she stares at you like that; each member of the audience feels right now like she’s looking only at them, no one else. I wonder how she does that. The room’s riveted to her. “I’m a cleanup specialist for the Alliance. The Alliance is a group of vampires who don’t feed, by choice, on humans, and the humans who help them. We try to control the Rogues, the vampires who choose to feed on humans. But the Sheriff is right; something’s changed, the Rogues are on the move, and they’re coming here. And they look a little like this.” Her fangs suddenly descend, faster than I’ve seen them move before. Glinting in the lights from the bar tables, they’re long, white and deadly looking. Several people scream, and a few scramble out of their chairs, heading for the exits. Helga and her crew of women block the doors quietly. People finally return to their seats, glancing very nervously at Theo. Her face had briefly been transformed into a mask of anger and hunger; her eyes widening, lips reddening. She still stands there, almost crouching, and a little drool drips slowly from one fang to the table top. “They look a little like this,” she says, her voice husky. “But worse. They enjoy torturing humans, since it enhances the taste of the blood. They have no conscience about it; you’re merely food on two legs for them. They do take a few humans, making them into Servants.” Kurland’s photo flashes up on the screen behind her. “Most humans, once Servants, are doomed. They’re dependent on receiving further donations of Rogue blood and will do anything, literally anything, for their Masters.” “This better not be some sort of sick joke,” bellows Butch Gillis, one of the pyrotechnic experts from the mines. “Sheriff, if this is a joke, I’ll kick your ass from here to Alpha Centauri.” “No joke, man,” Stan suddenly says. Everyone turns in surprise to the plump bartender. He puts his glass and rag down, comes out from around the bar. “No joke.” He smiles, and his fangs descend. They’re as long and as white as Theo’s. More screams erupt, and Butch turns very, very pale. He’s sitting next to the bartender, and has a really great view of the man’s mouth. “How many of these… things… are here, for God’s sake?” Matilda shrills. “Hold on, remember… there are good ones—like these two—and bad ones—like the one we took care of already.” I stand back up, waving everyone back down into their seats. “Are you convinced yet—how about you, Butch—convinced? I wish to hell this was a joke. I wouldn’t mind if you kicked my ass to Alpha Centauri then. But it’s real. And now we have to get down to brass tacks.” “OK, ok, Sheriff,” Gillis says, still glancing nervously at Stan. Stan smiles widely, then retracts his fangs. Theo does likewise, still standing on the table. The men and women in the bar room settle down, fear still on some faces, but a more serious, steady look on most of them. God, have we managed to convince them? I wonder, looking around the room. This is important. If we don’t have them on our side, there’s no way just a handful of us can fight these things off when they 78

VIS arrive. “We have approximately 30 hours. The shuttle—the unscheduled one—took a very roundabout approach, apparently hoping to keep off our radar. We’ve got a plan or two, and we’ll need volunteers. Anyone who doesn’t want to be dinner for the Rogues, raise your hand.” The room raises their hands as one. Good, at least we have that much. “Muhammad has scrounged around and found some things we can use, and I have too. He’s also called in some favors from Space Force personnel he knows, and they delivered… I mean, accidentally lost, a few boxes on the way to one of their outposts. So we have a missile defense system, although it’s homemade.” Muhammad smiles and the audience, a few of them, laugh. They all appreciate a good scrounger and the fact that on any base, boxes can disappear or be midnight requisitioned. I gesture at Holly. “Doc has come up with a little ‘cocktail’, with Theo’s help, that kills the Rogues. Pretty powerful stuff. We’ve managed to make a couple of air rifles—won’t punch through the Habitat bulkheads, but they’ll punch into a Rogue or a human pretty well—and we’ll need to make more. We may also need to make more of the ‘cocktail’. We need volunteers to help Muhammad with his missile defenses; we need some to help Doc, and we need some of you mechanically-minded folks to start massproducing the air rifles. How does that sound?” Sounds like the last stand at the Alamo, part of my mind whispers. I shrug it off mentally and continue. “I know, I know, you’ve all heard it before—never volunteer for anything. But this is something we need help with. You’re all section leaders or supervisors, so you can carry the news to your worker bees. You can explain as much or as little as you want. Most people would probably just enjoy the hell out of shooting Company asswipes with an air rifle from the get-go, so you decide how much your people can handle in terms of the facts right now.” “Eventually, they’ll all know. Once the Rogues get here, you’ll all know.” Theo says quietly. She lithely hops from the table and walks over to Stan. “Won’t they, Brother?” “Sadly… yes.” He nods. “I think we can try to fight off the shuttle, but even if we manage it once— given that they’re not expecting it—we probably won’t manage it twice. And they’ll keep coming. They want that mineral, at any cost. And remember, you’re all walking dinners to them. With a dinner show beforehand, that you don’t want to attend.” “Well, hell,” Butch Gillis stands up. “I survived the Wars, I’ve survived four divorces and all that alimony, I’ll survive this. I’ll help with the rifles, man.” Other people begin talking, and soon we have groups set up to work on each aspect of the plan. My mind sighs silently—in relief. I didn’t know if they’d all go for it, and I’m not too sure about a few of them, Matilda, especially, watching her. She’s kinda hinky. But it took us days to let the information settle in; I shouldn’t expect more from these folks. We have 30 hours, give or take, and maybe a chance to deal with the Rogues in a way they’re not expecting. We may have a chance, after all.

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VIS Chapter 21 Cal looks at me. “I’m tired, Sheriff!” “Archer, son, call me Archer. It’s cool. And I’m tired, too.” I stack the last of the air rifles in the rifle rack. “But we’re just about done. Hang in there.” “I never did anything like this before, you know,” he says, wiping down the table with a cloth, collecting all the various pieces and parts we had left over in one manicured hand. “I never thought I’d be making rifles.” “You’re a dancer, right?” I stretch my arms above my head and my back pops. My headache’s been back but as a low-grade, sort of annoying thump in my head. I’ll have to get Holly to do something about it soon, I think, but not too soon. The idea of going under anesthetic makes my flesh creep. “I was. Trained at New York Dance. I thought about ballet, but I didn’t start early enough.” He grins. “But I can dance pretty well despite that!” “Cool,” I grin. “I can’t dance worth a damn, myself. Two left feet.” “If you can march, you can dance. That’s what Max says…” The smile runs from his face. “Said.” “He was a great guy. I’m glad you got to know him. He and I were pretty tight back in the Day.” I look over the rack of rifles—we have 25 of them ready now, and we can make more if needed. Once we got the mining engineers involved, with their machining tools, the rifles were easier to manufacture. “Max was a great guy.” “I know. I miss him every day,” Cal says quietly. He wipes furtively at a stray tear coursing down his cheek. “I try not to cry about it much.” “We’ve all been through the emotional wringer,” I reply, patting him on the back. “It’s ok to cry. I’ve been known to do so on occasion.” “You? Sergeant Rock? The Big Tough Guy?” He smiles. “I’d have to see it to believe it.” “Yeah, hang around long enough, you will,” I chuckle. “Let’s go get some grub, and let me get off my feet. These dogs are barking!” “Thought I’d find you chow hounds here,” Holly says, plunking her tray down next to mine and sliding onto the bench next to me. Our thighs brush against each other and my pulse races. I clamp down on that feeling and just smile at her. Time enough for romance once we have these damn Rogues taken care of, I tell myself. One thing at a time, Marine! “Yep, we got hungry; we finished all 25 rifles and they’re ready to go. How about you? How’s your team doing with the ‘cocktail’ production?” “I left Helga in charge. We’re able to produce it, enough, I guess, but it takes a while. Laborintensive. Now if I had a real lab, instead of the dinky little Medical Center, things would be 80

VIS different.” She bites into her sandwich. “Like, if we had a real mess hall, we’d have edible food once in a while. When was this damn thing made, 2020?” She looks at it with disgust. “That’s why I try to eat things that have been sealed up,” Cal says, handing her a bag of chips. “At least they don’t taste like two week old socks.” She hungrily rips into the package. “I’ve been subsisting on coffee and crackers. All we had in the Medical Center. I’m starving!” “Have Theo and Muhammad talked with you recently?” I ask, drinking my bottle of water down. “I heard briefly from Muhammad, thanking me for talking him into shaving his beard. They’re out on the surface, setting up the missile defense system.” “Wow , good news.” I stir the soggy greenish-yellow reconstituted veggies around on my tray. “I hope they don’t have to stay out too long—those cosmic rays can fry a person.” “Yeah, I’m monitoring their time on my comp,” Holly says, her mouth full of chips. “If it gets close to coming-in time, I’ll yell at them. He said it’s going well and they’re almost done. Having Theo there has really helped, her and Stan. They’re both so strong and fast. Surprising given Stan’s bulk, but the lower gravity helps him, too.” “Boy, that was a surprise when we found out about him. And then during the meeting…” I laugh. “It definitely helped convince everyone,” Cal agrees. “It did me!” I nod slowly. “Yeah, it took some convincing with me, but one smile from Theo with the fangs out changed my mind pretty damn fast.” “It still seems like we’re in a nightmare, Archer,” Holly says slowly. “It still does, and it’s been a few days now.” “Yeah…” I look her over. Her blue eyes, behind her glasses, are tired. “It does. Hey, why don’t you catch some shut eye? We have time for naps. About…” I look down at my comp, pulling it out of my side pocket on my uniform khakis. “About 4 hours.” “I have to help them finish up,” Holly begins, but I hush her with a finger on her lips. “No, you don’t. And you know that as well as I do. Helga’s going to do a bang-up job; you need rest.” She glares down at my finger on her lips; it was daring, but on a whim, I decided to do it. It feels wonderful there. “Seriously. Rest.” “OK, ok.” She crunches up the chip bag and tosses it onto her tray. “Fine. I’ll take a nap for an hour.” “Sounds good to me, too,” Cal speaks up. “See you guys after a while.” He takes our trays, since we’re all done, and heads off to the recycling unit, then leaves the cafeteria for his quarters, I reckon. Holly and I sit still, next to each other. I’ve removed my finger—I could see her biting me if I didn’t, part of my mind chuckles—but we still sit close to each other, aware of each other’s being. 81

VIS “OK, Doc,” I smile. “Head off to bed. I’ll get you up after a bit.” “You better,” she replies. “Or I’ll…” “What?” She grins and shakes her head. “I don’t know. Maybe this…” Holly leans in and kisses me, and I blush. “Hey, knock it off… I won’t be able to sleep now…” “That’s ok.” She laces her fingers through mine. “Sleep’s over-rated, anyway. Come on.” We walk to her quarters. She’s right, sleep is highly over-rated. There are other things that help a person relax…

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VIS Chapter 22 “Wake up, Archer,” Holly whispers softly. Then she kisses my ear, and I bolt upright. “Erg!” I manage to say, brightly. She laughs and tosses me my shirt and pants. “Yeah, I love you too.” She’s already dressed, hair fixed up… big ole grin on her face. “We have about 30 minutes before the shuttle’s due to arrive.” “Oh, hell.” I get up, get dressed. Run into the head, get squared away. Come back out and kiss her deeply, strongly. May be the last time I get to, I think to myself. Better make it count. “Holly, I…” “Shhh.” She puts her finger on my lips this time. “I know.” “If we get out of this alive, I’m putting a ring on you. You know that.” I smile down at her. “Accepted.” She blushes. “Now… focus on work. Not us.” “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” I straighten my shirt. Of course, everything’s aligned correctly… shirt buttons, pants button, zipper… belt where it should be. Old habits die hard. “Let’s do this.” We walk from the temporary respite of her quarters towards the unknown, hand in hand. “Muhammad, are all your toys ready?” I say into the comp in my hand. “Alhamdulillah, brother, they are!” He replies, sounding optimistic. “As ready as we can be, on this sort of… budget.” He laughs. “We’re at the Shuttle Agent’s office.” “Good screens there, see anything yet?” We head that way. My pulse is pounding in my throat, the familiar rush of combat adrenaline starting to surge through me. Like I said, old habits die hard. Holly works to keep up with me and does a damn fine job. “Yes, we’re tracking it now. It’s slightly ahead of schedule. I think they boosted quite a bit.” Theo’s voice comes over the comp unit. “They’re in a hurry.” “Good, the welcoming committee sounds ready.” I sound grim and know it. “All right, people. Platoon commanders, check in.” “Alpha Platoon, ready to go,” says Butch Gillis. He and some of the miners who know explosives have taken shelter on the surface, in the temporary shelters they use when setting off their fireworks to start a new hole. “Ready to kick some ass.” I grin tightly. Sounds good. “Bravo Platoon, you ready?” “Yes, sir,” Cal replies. “We’re, um, locked and loaded.” He sounds a bit nervous but this is his first action. He’ll be fine. He has a certain debt to collect. “Charlie?” I wait on an answer. “Charlie Platoon, you there?”

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VIS “Yah, yah. I forgot we go by Charlie. Yah, we ready. We all ready here in the Medical Center. Still making the ‘cocktail’, too, you betcha.” Helga’s voice comes over loud and strong and Holly laughs. “Good for you, Helga.” She stops at the hatch to the Shuttle Agent’s office and squeezes my hand. “I’m going to go join them, per orders, Oh High and Mighty Commander.” I squeeze back. “You take care.” “You too.” And then she’s gone, just like that. I put my war face on and go into the Shuttle Agent’s office. “All right, Muhammad. Ready to rock and roll?” “Aye, aye, Sir!” His hands are touching the comp screens surrounding him. “I’ve got them targeted. Ready to fire?” I pause for a moment. We know for sure most of the shuttle passengers are Rogues. There are also some humans on board—if they’re still alive after the trip. But I’m getting ready to shoot missiles into a shuttle that’s not battle-hardened, at least we don’t think it is. So that means people are going to die. I swallow hard and look Muhammad in the eyes. “Fire.” The screens blank for a moment as the filters adjust for the missile flare, and then we wait for what seems like forever, but is really only a few seconds. The steady tone of the missiles launching and heading toward their target is then interrupted by silence. And there’s a second, larger flare on the comp vid screens. The trajectory of the shuttle lurches perceptibly and then the spacecraft, shedding pieces, slams into the surface. A cloud of dust wraps around it, blinding us temporarily. The men and women who’ve worked with Muhammad to get the missiles set up and ready cheer loudly and he beams with workman-like pride. I can imagine the scene on the shuttle. Explosions, loud noises, then the horrible rush of air escaping. Survival pods dropping from the overhead, the insane rush to get in one before you’re sucked toward the gaping holes and explosive decompression. Having served on board a few Space Force ships, I know the drill and I know the reality. I know what it’s like to wake up in the survival pod, your eyes leaking blood, your ears aching like hell. And knowing you’re the lucky one or ones. Not many make it in there in time. Gillis and his team move out, riding their buggies toward the wreck site. Rooster tails of dust rise in the low gravity and tiny atmosphere of the asteroid, marking their trails. Suddenly, one of them flashes brightly and detours dramatically into a crater. The others scatter and I realize they must be being fired upon. The dust around the shuttle begins to slowly lessen and then we can see suited figures, black against the light gray dust, bounding toward Alpha Platoon. They have weapons in their hands and they know how to use them. I see bodies flying off the buggies; the com is filled with screams, curses, prayers and occasional orders from Gillis and his second in command, Roger Bently.

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VIS Muhammad’s hands tighten on the desk, as he watches. “They’re being slaughtered, Sarge. We have to do something.” “Nothing we can do, Muhammad, until those bastards get inside.” I clear my throat, look away. Maybe Gillis can get the remnants of his platoon to reorganize in one of the shelters further away. I think about calling in the order, but realize I’ll just be talking over people who really, really need to talk with each other right now. Gillis will figure out something, or Bently will if Gillis buys it. They’re both Army vets, able to handle themselves in tight situations. “We hadn’t planned on them being quite so aggressive,” Theo says, walking up behind me. “But we should have.” “I thought they’d just try to get in, not have a fight on the surface,” I reply. “That’s some pretty expensive high tech stuff they’re using.” “Yes, and we better get ready. They’ll be getting close to the air locks soon. Gillis and his platoon have broken off contact.” Theo taps one of the vid screens. “Wisely, on his part. We don’t have any weapons to match what they have out there.” We watch as the black-suited figures bounce toward the outer airlocks of the Habitat. Suddenly, there’s a silent (to us) blast, and several of the figures go tumbling up into the air, then landing with a spraddle-armed and –legged finality. Gillis must have left them some surprises, I realize, on their path to the air locks. The other Rogues, if that’s who they are, don’t even pause to check the casualties. They move on to their assigned objective in a very professional manner. I’m impressed. “Bravo, get ready.” I wish I could be with Cal and meet these bastards face to face. I’m itching to be in the firefight and hate having to stay here. That’s one reason I always turned down OCS offers. I wanted to be in the field with my Marines, not in a command center. “They’re blowing the outer airlocks now.” “Um, ok. I mean, roger that. We’re ready, Archer!” Cal sounds excited. I can hear him talking to the rest of his ersatz platoon, getting them fired up. I watch as the outer airlock doors are blown away from the Habitat structure and as the black suited troops rush in. We’re in for it now!

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VIS Chapter 23 Running down the corridor, my pulse pounding, I glance down to make sure the air rifle is loaded. I hear screams up ahead, and heavy thumps. Doesn’t sound good, I think, and then I open my mouth. “Uuuu-rah! Gung-ho!” The men and women behind me are screaming as well, various unprintable things as well as just screams of anger (and fear). They’re not trained as Marines, or soldiers, but once they figured out their lives were on the line, and some weirdo wanted to eat them for dinner, they got mad. And mad miners are a tough crowd, I mentally snicker. Tough as hell. Everything begins to go in slow motion in my mind’s eye. The adrenaline’s kicked in, as well as the years of training and actual combat experience. We turn the corner of the corridor and meet the melee straight on. No subtle maneuvers here. I raise the rifle to my shoulder and pull the trigger, sighting in on the first black-clad body I see. The short “pfft!” by my ear reassures me, as does the sudden stop the Rogue comes to as he charges toward me, fangs bright and bloody. His body thuds to the deck, and begins to convulse. Soon, he’s only touching the floor with his head and his heels, and I ignore what happens to him later—don’t have time for it—and I sight in on another Rogue. This one has a machete and is covered with gore—most likely human blood, I think, with an internal shudder—and I pop her between the eyes with another ‘cocktail’. She hits the deck too. Then from out of nowhere, a foot appears next to my head, and I barely manage to duck in time. Even so, the heel clips my chin, and I stumble backwards, against the bulkhead. “Gah!” I spit blood on the deck and instinctively swing the steel air rifle to block the next blow, aimed at my neck. I hear the crack of steel hitting bone, and the soul-grating sound of a Rogue screaming. The male Rogue pulls his broken arm back, but swings again with his good one. His hand punches the bulkhead next to me and I hear finger bones break, but it doesn’t slow him down. Instead, he lunges toward me, mouth open. I slam the rifle into his fangs, and knock his head back. Blood and teeth fly everywhere, and then Muhammad shoots him with one of the ‘cocktail’ darts. The Rogue begins to seize and we move on into the fight. I see Cal fighting desperately with a female Rogue, and fire into her back. She slumps forward onto him, knocking him to the deck. Muhammad reaches down and yanks him out from under the body, and Cal begins to thank him. “Muhammad, thank—" I try to get in between Muhammad and the grey-haired Rogue that leaps at him, but I’m too damn slow. The Rogue grabs Muhammad in a bear hug and squeezes; Muhammad tries to scream but can’t, the veins and muscles on his neck in stark relief. His face turns deep red as he hammers helplessly at the Rogue’s face and shoulders. The Rogue laughs wickedly and then bites into Muhammad’s chest. My friend does manage to scream then, arching back away from the vampire, but I can see arterial blood spurting out around the monster’s mouth. I scream, too, and try to fire my rifle. It’s empty; I toss it to the deck and pull out my K-bar, plunging it into the Rogue’s back over and over. He growls, then squeals in pain, dropping Muhammad to the blood-slick deck and turning on me. That’s where he made his last mistake—Cal leaps on his back, 86

VIS his knife flashing in the corridor lights. As the Rogue tries to strangle me, Cal cuts his throat back to the spine. The vampire gurgles and slides onto the floor as I slither out from under his limp body. Cal stumbles and then with a brief, almost crazed look at me, charges into the fight again, knife hand high. “Muhammad!” I kneel next to him. “Can you breathe…” “Not for… long…” he answers, each breath a labor of pain. “Brother…” I try to find a pressure point on his chest wound but can’t. My hands slide uselessly around on his tunic. “Corpsman! Corpsman!” Maybe someone will hear me in the midst of all this. I can’t save him, but maybe someone can… Muhammad takes one of my hands and squeezes it bruisingly hard. “Brother…” Muhammad whispers. “Alhamdulillah! Allahu Akbar!” “Jesus, Muhammad, you SOB, don’t you give up on me now,” I whisper back. “Not now!” “From Allah… we come…” he chokes. “To Allah, we re… return. You’re… wonderful… friend.” “Corpsman!!” I scream. Muhammad tugs at my hand, blood forming around his lips and beginning to dribble down his chin. “Archer,” he says, his eyes so bright and clear. “You’re… good man. Holly… marry her! Find your… path.” His head slumps down into my other hand, and his eyes go blank. A tiny sigh escapes his lips and I know without a doubt he’s dead. A tremendous rage fills my veins and very gently, I put his head down on the gory deck plates. Then I go berserk. Later, I’m told they found me throttling a Rogue with my bare hands, something Theo and Stan were pretty darn impressed with. I don’t remember anything. All I remember is waking up in the Medical Center, seeing Helga’s broad back and then the top of Holly’s head. “Holly?” I croak. “Holly?” “I’m here, Archer. And no, don’t try to sit up. We’re going to transport you in just a moment.” She pat me gently on some unbandaged part—kinda hard to find, as I look down my body—and turns away, giving brisk orders to Helga and her medical team. Holly turns back to me after a few moments. “Archer, we’re implementing Plan B.” Shit, no way. Plan B had been a joke. We’d made one just in case—if the Rogues got into the Habitat, established a presence there, and got near the central controls, we had made a plan to go down into one of the mines. But I never thought we’d actually use it. I thought… I thought we could fight them off. What the hell happened? My eyes must display my feelings pretty well, and Holly smiles kindly. “OK, Jarhead.” She leans over and kisses me gently. “We’re moving you out.” “But what happened?” I manage to rasp out. “Did they get a foothold? I don’t remember.”

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VIS She sighs. “Yes. There were more of them than we thought. And they’re incredibly strong. We took out a bunch of them, but a few managed to get through. They’ve pretty much taken over the top part of the Habitat, and the upper level command centers. They’ve shut down the air—that’s why it’s so close in here—and the heat.” She gestures at the blankets on me. “So… Plan B. Who knew the Alamo had a basement?” I smile at the joke. “Yeah…” Then I look up into her blue eyes. “Casualties?” “Heavy. But not too heavy. We gave them one hell of a surprise, that’s for sure.” She stands up, gestures toward some helpers. They quickly come over, hoist my stretcher into the air, and start moving me. I let my head sink back onto the pillow, and my eyes close. At least we surprised them, I think. We may not win, but we surprised the hell out of those bastards. Darkness closes in and I welcome the rest.

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VIS Chapter 24 Reality sets in as well as the itching… I scratch irritably at the new-skin bandages and cuss internally. My jaw’s too sore to do much cussing externally. Scratch, scratch, scratch… then a heavy hand lands on my shoulder. “Hey, you, Sarge, you stopping that now! Doc Holly say no scratching, can make scars.” Helga sounds chipper. “You want some coffee?” My stomach thinks about it and then decides no, so I shake my head. “How about some water, Helga?” “Sure thing!” She trundles off to get a bottle of water for me; in her absence, I struggle to sit up. Muscles I didn’t know I had scream at me but I persevere, and end up propping myself up on the stretcher, a pillow against my back as I lean against the mine wall. Lanterns are propped up and down the mine shaft, and I see people—quite a few, actually, I note—moving around purposely. Looks well-organized. “Here ya go, Sarge,” Helga says, gently pressing a cold bottle of water into my hands. I look down to see the gray new-skin bandages covering them and still can’t remember what all I did (or didn’t do). I smile at her and take a long, slow drink. Tastes like nectar; feels wonderful to my parched throat. “Ahh! Thanks, Helga. How’re you doing?” I look her over. A few scratches, a bandage here and there. Otherwise, she looks fine. Mountainous, in a nice way, but fine. I’ve always been one of those men who like women with adequate padding; skinny chicks never did much for me. But I think Helga might be too much of a woman for me! I grin at her. She grins back, squatting down next to my stretcher. “I am fine, thanking you. I do good. I keep Doc Holly safe, and my ladies. Cal is ok, too. He look like you—like mummy—hah!—but he ok. I kill a few of those bastards myself. Then we all come here.” “Good for you. Thanks for keeping Holly safe.” I swing my legs out over the edge of the stretcher as an experiment and she raises her eyebrows. “You sure you wanting to do that?” “Yep. Gotta start moving at some point.” I grunt and sit up further, letting the dizziness in my head drain away. “Holly and you… she like you very much, you know?” Helga says quietly. “I like you too. I think that you two are nice couple.” I blush a little. “Thanks!” “You just take good care of her, huh? You mean to her, I mean to you. Got me?” She frowns ferociously. “She good woman to me.”

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VIS “No worries,” I smile. “She’s very special to me and when we get through all this crap, I’m going to make an honest woman out of her.” Helga helps me stand up. “What you mean? She honest!” I laugh. “Oh, it’s just a saying. It means I’m going to marry her.” She laughs too. “Ok, then. You want to walk to the command area? I help.” Helga hooks a strong arm under my shoulders and basically walks me down the mine shaft with me doing very little work at all. We walk past people putting more rifles together and loading them; more wounded; some people eating rations and resting. Everyone looks relatively positive, though, even the wounded, and everyone has a good word to say as we walk past. That’s a good sign. We’re down but not out. “Sheriff!” Cal looks up from a comp set, a map of the Habitat displayed on the vid screen. “Wow, you’re up!” “Archer, you should still be resting,” Holly murmurs, coming to my side. “How do you feel?” “Crappy, but that’s ok. Got anything for itching?” “It’ll make you sleepy…” I shake my head no. “Forget that! I need to be awake. I’ll deal with it. How are things? Catch me up.” Holly glares at me. “I’m the doctor here…” “Yeah, and I’m still in command, I think. So let me do my job. You’ve done yours.” I look at her, aware that my eyes have gone cold. She looks back and looks surprised, then hurt. She shrugs and walks away. “Um…” Cal says quietly in the silence that envelops us. “That update?” I turn to face him. “Yeah, I want one. Now.” Don’t be such a hard ass, you asswipe, I tell myself. He’s just a kid, a dancer for cripe’s sake. You’re mad because Muhammad’s dead. But you can’t do anything about that now, so get over it and get on with it. I school my face to be more positive and try to smile. “Well,” the boy hesitates. Helga’s still holding me up and I pat her arm. “I’m fine, Helga.” “You act mean!” She grumbles but lets me go; I lean against the table since my legs still feel weak. “Sorry. I’ll apologize to her, soon. I just have to get back into this and try to help. OK?” She shrugs too and walks away. Two for two, I think, great. I clear my throat, looking back at Cal. “Please continue.”

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VIS “Yes, sir.” He taps the screen, enlarging it. “The Rogues have the upper levels, one through five. We’re holding them back on six pretty well. They’ve taken a lot of casualties, more, I think, than they were ever expecting. So they’re being a bit more cautious. We took a lot of hits too but we’re ok for now. Everyone who could be evacuated was… down to here.” He gestures to the mine shaft around us. “This is the main shaft, the one with the largest survival facilities, and the largest amount of mineral deposits.” “OK. How many did we lose?” “Last count, about ten minutes ago…” He looks down at the comp. “We’ve lost 23 killed, 45 wounded. They’ve lost at least 11 killed. We don’t have data on their wounded. They had stuffed a hell of a lot more on that shuttle than we knew about; there were both Rogues and some of their human Servants.” We’d started out with about 120 personnel. Those are some damn high casualty figures. But with the things we’re fighting… I’m kind of amazed we’re alive at all. “How about Theo and Stan? They ok?” “Yes.” He nods. “Theo’s on level six, leading the rear-guard. Stan’s down here, getting people rearmed.” “Good. Good work.” I pat him gently on the back. “Very good work.” He smiles up at me. “Thanks, Archer.” He looks back at the comp vid screen. “They cut off the air and heat to the other levels…” “Yeah, I faintly remember Holly telling me that. We’ll be ok here; the mine shafts have a different control center, actually down here, not up there. Hope they freeze their damn vampire asses off.” The comp bings, making us both look down at it. Theo’s face appears, looking ragged and tired. There’s a smear of blood by her mouth and internally, my stomach turns over. I try to look nonchalant, though. It’s an effort. “Theo! Good to see you.” “Archer!” She sounds surprised and looks it too. “I didn’t know you were up and about yet. I have some news, though, that you need to hear.” “Go ahead, Theo.” I sit down slowly next to Cal. “Cal and I are here. We can call Stan over if you want him, too.” “You can tell him later, I think I’ll know what he’ll say, anyway. The Rogues have delivered a static vid feed—a proposal for us. I told them I’d accept it but I can’t make any decisions; that’s up to all of us, especially you, Archer. You’re still in command as far as I’m concerned.” Well, that’s a vote of confidence. “OK. Send the vid feed, and we’ll look it over. Do you think it’s worth the time and effort to watch it?”

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VIS “Maybe. I haven’t watched it yet.” She looks away, nodding to someone. The comp purrs a little and then a symbol for a new vid feed pops up on the screen. “I thought I’d watch it with you. Be prepared, I have no idea what’s in it.” “Fine by me.” I tap the screen, and the comp set, after scanning the vid feed for security, starts it. “Greetings, Archer Hudson,” a woman’s voice says. The vid then opens up, showing a dark-haired, Asian-looking woman with deep, dark eyes and short spiky black hair. Part of me notices, almost without surprise, a small red dragon tattooed on her neck, just like the one on Camilla Parker’s neck. “Thank you for listening. We’re offering you and your fighters a chance to survive. I hope you take this seriously.” She pauses. “We’ve had casualties and so have you. No need for further ones. You have something we want, we control the Habitat and your means of escape. Simple enough. We’ll provide two transports, take you anywhere you want to go. You get out of the mines and off the Habitat.” Cal chuckles softly and I look over at him. This isn’t a live feed, so I pause it. “What’s so funny?” “They want us out of the mines, so they can have the minerals. For their ships. The small auxiliary scanners that Muhammad and Theo set up on the surface, while they were doing the missiles, showed us that a whole shit load of ships are waiting, just off the asteroid. They haven’t landed them yet. And I think they’ve found the little presents we left them at the entrances to the other mine shafts.” “Presents?” “Muhammad mined the entrances. We have the codes, we can get into them if we need to. If you don’t have the codes, and you try to waltz on in there, you’ll get creamed. We know there’ve been at least two fairly large explosions in the smaller mine shafts… so apparently they’ve found out they can’t just run in there and start transporting the mineral to the ships.” “Excellent. Muhammad, thank you!” I raise my eyes to the mine shaft ceiling. “Wherever you are, thank you!” I tap the screen again and the woman continues. “This is a one-time offer, Archer Hudson. You have one hour to decide. Then you can either lead your humans to survival, or we’ll come down there and finish things. We have… reinforcements.” She smiles, her fangs white in her tanned face. “And we’re hungry, human. Very hungry.”

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VIS Chapter 25 “Well, aren’t they special,” I say sarcastically. “Theo? Your thoughts?” “They’d kill all of you as soon as they could,” she says quietly, looking into the vid screen. “I know that for sure.” “All of ‘you’, huh?” Cal says. “I guess we’re just expendable humans.” “They’d kill me and Stan immediately, Cal. There’s no escape for us, with the Rogues in charge.” She looks grim. “But they’d make you think you were going to survive, just for the sheer fun of seeing your fear when the truth happened, and they began killing you.” “Lovely,” I say. “Pretty much what I thought, too.” “Well, what the hell are we going to do, then?” Cal stands up angrily. “At least maybe we could get on the transports…” “And have them auto-pilot into the nearest sun? No thanks.” I stand up too, slowly. “Listen, Cal. They really, really want the minerals here. That’s important. And we have food, air, some heat, weapons…” He runs his hands through his hair. “And we’re all going to die.” “Hell, son, everybody dies at some point,” Stan walks up to us. “Everybody. But I don’t think we’re going to die because of them,” pointing to the roof of the mine, and the Habitat on top of it. “Not them.” Theo smiles at her Alliance friend. “Stan! Good to see you.” “Yeah, heard the talking, thought I’d drop by. I could sure use a drink, though.” He looks thinner and very tired. A sprouting of beard has speckled his jowls and his tunic’s filthy. I don’t want to know everything that’s on that shirt, I think, and look away, back down at the comp and Theo’s face. “Listen…” I start out slowly. “Muhammad had contacts with Space Force. We might still be able to get through to them…” “No way. The Rogues are jamming all out-going transmissions.” Cal shakes his head dejectedly. “Already checked.” “There are ways around jamming, Cal,” Stan says, sitting down at the table, pulling the comp set closer to him. “Let me take a look. This is… was… Muhammad’s comp, wasn’t it? The links to his Space Force buddies should still be here.” “You work on that, sounds good. Cal, why don’t you go get something to eat, and then rest a spell? I’ll wake you in a couple of hours. I’m going to check on our weapons status, and talk with Holly. Theo, you guys ok? Need any reinforcements?”

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VIS “No. And like the Rogue said, we have an hour.” She looks around her. “We’ll have time to regroup up here. I’ll be back in touch. Good luck, Stan.” Her face vanishes from the screen. “Yeah, I’ll need it,” Stan mumbles. “You guys give me some quiet time, I’ll mess with this. I think I can do it. I used to be a programmer back in the day.” “All right, man,” I smile. I pat him on his shoulder. “Let me know if I can help. I’ll be back in a few.” Cal stalks off. I guess I rubbed his fur the wrong way. Oh, well. I’ve managed to piss off Holly, Helga and now Cal. I’m doing really well, I think. Maybe I should just go back to bed and forget all this. Laying down sounds like a super idea… but I’d just lie there and itch, and worry. So… off to do battle with my ornery girlfriend. If I can’t fight the vampires, I can have a good ole fight with Holly. “Hey, we need to talk,” I begin, finding Holly in the mine shaft that’s been dedicated to taking care of our wounded. “Sir, yes, sir, right away, sir!” She barks, standing at attention. A couple of her ersatz nurses look up and then wisely move away. The patient Holly’s been working on is blissfully unconscious and I envy him. “Oh, that’s right, make it nice and easy for me to say what I need to say. Thanks a lot,” I yell. She glares at me but doesn’t say a word, hands on her hips. I sigh deeply, rub the back of my neck with one bandaged hand. “OK, ok. Listen. I don’t know how the hell to talk about this; never been so fucking good at it. But this is important, so let me say what I got to say, then you can be as bitchy as you wanna be.” “Fine,” she says, the word dripping with venom. I put my hands on my hips, mirroring her posture. “Listen up then. I don’t know all this touchy-feely crap. All I know is you’re pissing me the hell off and I also love you more than anyone I’ve ever known. We have to work this out now. This is one reason I never slept with anyone in my command, even though I could’ve. This shit happens.” Her face crumples a little. “Our relationship is shit?” “No! Damn it. No, it’s not. It means a tremendous amount to me. The time I’ve spent with you… it’s been magic. It’s been the best time of my life. I mean it. But we also have to face the fact that we’re in a battle here, and there are times I can’t be your boyfriend and be in command at the same time.” I look at her, trying to judge her mood. “Holly, you know how it is. You’ve been in combat. You’ve had to do triage, for God’s sake. What do you do with your feelings when you set some poor slob off to one side, knowing there’s nothing in the world you can do for him medically, and knowing that he’s gonna lie there and die?” “Archer…” Her voice cracks. “Damn it. I know, I know. You’re right. I did the hurt girlfriend thing. But it’s because I care so much about you, for you. I can’t just turn that off. You did.” 94

VIS “I just shoved it down inside. Like you have to with patients in a combat hospital tent.” I take her right hand in mine. “Holly, I’ll always love you. You have to know that. But while we’re dealing with this, there are times I’ll have to override your need to take care of me. I know I was a bastard back there, and I’m sorry. But it’s what I have to do right now.” She squeezes my hand gently through the bandages. “Oh, God, Archer Hudson. There are times I want to throttle you and times I just want to be in your arms. I never thought…” She goes silent for a long, long moment. My heart thuds. “You never thought what?” “I never…” She clears her throat. “I never thought I’d fall in love. But I have. With you, of all people.” I grin. “It could be worse…” “How?!” “I could be uglier!” “Good luck with that,” Holly laughs quietly and then suddenly sobs. “I’m so scared…” I’ve never, ever seen this side of her. Holly’s always been the toughest, orneriest old doctor I’ve ever known, willing to dish it out as fast as any smart-mouth I’ve ever met. Able to hold her own in cussfests, fist fights, and bar-room rumbles; able to perform emergency surgery under horrible conditions. She’s a real Marine; Fleet-qualified, Airborne wings, Recon school… expert marksman. And now she’s crying in front of me. What the hell do I do now? This isn’t in any of the Marine Corps manuals I’ve read. “Holly,” I whisper, and pull her into my arms. “Holly, I am too… but we’ll figure this out. Just put up with me right now. I promise, it’ll be better. I won’t let them hurt you, ever. I promise. I’m going to marry you.” She snuffles against my shirt—a new one, since the old one was destroyed as I was fighting in the corridor up in the Habitat—and looks up into my face. “You need a shave. And is that your way of proposing to me?” “If I didn’t hurt so much, I’d do the on-one-knee thing. But I don’t have a ring to offer, either. And yes, I need a shave. I can’t say the same for you, though, luckily.” “You big lug!” She hugs me close. “You don’t need a ring. I accept, knees or no knees, shave or no shave.” “Still want to marry me after I was a bastard to you earlier?” “Yes,” Holly replies. “Yes, I understand. I’ve been in command, too. I just went into the ‘I want to take care of you’ thing, and didn’t think about you needing to re-assert yourself.” “It’s not that. I just need to be able to get back into it, to finish things.” 95

VIS “You weren’t trying to be a manly-man?” She pinches me slyly on the ribs. “Not a little?” “Listen up, Pilgrim,” I say in my best Duke voice. “I’ll tell you when I’m being a manly-man.” “Like now?” I cup her chin, tilting her head back a little, looking down into her eyes. “Like now.” Our kiss is long and slow. “Hey, you two, get a room!” Helga bellows, walking up to us. We break apart from each other; I swear Holly’s blushing deeply, which is highly amusing. “OK, ok. I think I’ll start calling you Sarge,” I call back. “Can’t a man kiss his wife around here?” Holly runs over to Helga and hugs her. “He proposed! We’re going to get married, Helga!” Helga sweeps us both up in a huge hug (but a gentle one, for her). “SO good! Yah, yah! So good. We kick vampire butt, we have party!” “Sounds great to me, Helga, as long as you don’t break my ribs!” I huff, squirming in her grip. She laughs deeply and kisses me on the cheek, then Holly. “Okey dokey, no rib breaking. You be good man for Holly, you hear?” She smiles and sets us both down. “Yah, yah,” I say back. I’ll be the best man I know how; Holly means more to me than the world. I don’t know how we missed each other all the years we knew each other in the Corps, but something changed; I don’t know what it is, and frankly, I don’t care. I just want to spend my life with this ornery woman. I kiss Holly gently on the lips again. “I need to go check on weapons. The Rogues gave us a fake peace proposal, and we need to get ready for a big visit when I tell them to bite my ass.” “Take good care of it, I’m kinda fond of it,” Holly says, her usual bantering tone restored. “Dumb Jarhead, don’t get it shot off.” “Believe me, that’s not on my list of things I want to do…” I say, as I walk away. “Other things, yeah, that, not so much.”

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VIS Chapter 26 “Got ‘em!” Stan chuckles. “Knew I’d remember how. These systems haven’t really changed much on the inside—all this outer stuff is just cosmetics.” He looks up from the comp set. “What would you like to say to Major Margaret Leech, Space Force?” A woman in the high-collared blue uniform of the Force, globe and rocket in gold on the collar, looks seriously at me from the vid screen. “Ma’am,” I begin. “You’ve got yourself in a world of hurt, Sheriff.” Her voice is cool, commanding. “Want us to pull your balls out of the fire?” “Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” I say. She tells it like it is, I like that about someone. “Yeah, we’ve got ourselves a clusterfuck and need a little help.” “Tell me what the hell is going on, first. While you’re doing that, we’ll move a few ships into position near you. Then, if I decide you’re not drunk, crazy or just a mean bastard, we might help you.” She sits back in her commander’s chair, waiting. I smile at the vid screen, rub my stubble-rough chin. “Fair enough. OK. We have a bunch of folks who’ve taken over the upper levels of our Habitat, killed a fair number of us as we were defending ourselves, and they want the minerals we’re mining out here for their own use.” Close enough. I just left out the vampire part. “Really?” She glances away and then back; apparently checking something on another screen. “We noticed no transmissions from the Habitat, which is what brought us this close in the first place. Plus, I hear a friend of mine is there, Muhammad Asad. Know him from way back.” Crap, how do I… “Major, he’s dead.” Her face hardens. “They kill him?” “Yes, Major.” I nod. “Along with some other good people. We’re down here in the main mine shaft; we can hold them off for a while but they have some major weapons. We have air guns and some mining explosives. And that’s about it.” “Not for long. We’re coming in. Don’t let them know; hold them off as long as you can. See if you can lead them down the rosy path of negotiation for a spell. That way, we can get close enough to do a tactical landing.” She smiles grimly. “We have some good weapons too. By the way, how many of these folks are we talking?” “About 50, at last count. Plus or minus 20. It’s hard for us to get an accurate intel assessment since they’re on the upper 5 levels of the Habitat, and we’re holding them at the sixth level. They came in through the main shuttle entrance. They control the Habitat vitals, but we have air, heat and a few other things down here in the mine. The other mine entrances are secure.” “Excellent.” She nods enthusiastically. “You prior service?” 97

VIS “Yes, Ma’am, twenty five years active with the Corps. That’s how I knew Muhammad.” “He was a good man,” the Major says quietly. “Payback’s hell. You know that.” “Yes, Ma’am, I do.” “Get your people ready then. We’ll come in from the auxiliary shuttle landing area… fight our way down to you. Don’t get overzealous and start shooting at us with your pop guns.” She flips a couple of fingers to her forehead in a casual but meaningful salute. “See you soon, Devil Dog.” The screen blanks. “OK, people, listen up.” People’s heads pop up all over, and soon a crowd of surviving techs, managers, service providers and miners has gathered around the table where Stan and I sit. I stand up. “Got some good news.” “Good news, Sheriff?” One of the managers speaks up. “Haven’t heard much of that since we ran down here like rats.” “Well, at least we’re live rats.” I grin savagely. “Ever heard the term, ‘Payback is hell’? It’s gonna be, for those bastards upstairs. Stan got ahold of Space Force, and they’re coming in.” Cheers fill the mine shaft. I let them vent for a moment and then wave my hands for silence. Eventually, everyone calms down to listen. “They’re coming, but we have to hold off the Rogues until then. The Rogue motherfuckers gave us a one hour deadline, and it’s almost up. That means the rear guard on the sixth level are gonna get hit, hard, and then they’re going to try to come on down here, through the rear guard. We need to be ready.” I look over the group of men and women. “Are we ready to kick some ass?” They roar. I smile and start delegating. “Stan, you’re in charge of setting up the defenses along the mine shaft here. Defense in depth. Holly, you and Helga move the wounded that can’t fight further back. Walking wounded, find a team and join in. Get a rifle and some ‘cocktails’. Cal? Where are you?” “Over here,” the young man replies. “I’m ready. What you got for me?” “I want you in charge of the main defense. Here. We’ll make a barricade; if they get past it, it’ll be because we’re dead. I’m not surrendering to those… things. I highly recommend against it, for all of you. It’s not much of an option, unless you want to be dinner for a bunch of sadistic, murdering psychopaths.” The crowd murmurs, their voices turning ugly. Good, I want them hating, all fired up to kill and not feel too bad about it. “Let’s go, people. Let’s show them what we can do.” I turn to Stan. “Get Theo on the comp. Tell her about the Space Force, and what we’re doing down here. Then get to work on the defense—have it where we can fall back but protect each other’s fields of fire. They’re sticking their dicks into a meat grinder here—can’t maneuver much. That’s to our distinct advantage, and I want to make them pay for every centimeter.” He nods, grimly.

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VIS Holly and her team are already separating the wounded—the ones who are able to fight versus the ones who aren’t—they go deeper into the mine, with a few attendants. The rest—including a few that amaze me with their guts and dedication—line up to be issued weapons and ammunition. Cal quickly gathers a group of men and women around him—I spot Sally among them—she’s a little hard to miss, in a bright red tube top and skirt, with fishnet hose—who begin moving equipment and supplies around to build a barricade across the mine shaft. I wink at her and she winks back, wiggling her butt at me. Cal notices, and raises an eyebrow at me. “Really, Archer? Didn’t think she was quite your type.” “Oh, we’re just old buddies,” I grin. “Now, I’m going to tell Miss Shiny Teeth up on the upper level what she can do with herself. And all her little pals.” “Wish I could stay to hear it,” he laughs, and disappears into the organized chaos around us. I sit back down at the comp set, key in my code and bring up the communication program. It’s not blocked to the main Habitat command center… apparently they think I’ll be wanting to talk with them about their wonderful, kind proposal.

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VIS Chapter 27 “Hello!” I say cheerfully. “Got a minute?” The Rogue who’s answered the vid screen looks confused. I’m supposed to be a whining, cringing pitiful human, begging for a chance to live. “Excuse me?” “Yeah, yeah. Where’s Miss Bangkok or whatever her name is? The one who spoke with us before?” I smile happily. “I’d like to speak with her, please. Thanks!” He frowns, utterly at a loss for words, and disappears from the screen. In a few seconds, Miss Bangkok appears, looking cool and utterly calm. “Yes, Archer Hudson?” “Hello there! Hey, thanks for sending us the vid, with the offer on it. It must have taken awhile to come up with all that, and we sure do appreciate your time, miss,” I chortle. I widen my eyes; let’s keep them as off balance as possible. I see Stan grinning at me as he stands on the opposite side of the comp, out of the vid range. “That was real nice of you folks.” “Um… thank you,” she says slowly. “Well. Um. Do you have a response?” I nod rapidly. “Oh, yes, ma’am, I surely do. We all talked and talked about it down here. That’s about all we have left to do now, is talk. Ever get into one of those situations where you’ve done all you can do, and then you just sit around and talk? That’s what we did. We just talked down here and went over all the points you brought up.” “Really?” She sounds interested but very confused. She can’t figure out if I’m a complete dingleberry or if I’m stringing her along. Of course, I AM stringing her along, but let’s see how long we can do this, I think. Just for the hell of it. “Yup!” Sally dances into view and sits on my lap, squirming a little, running her hands up and down my bare chest. I’d taken off my shirt and ruffled up my hair for the vid. Sally giggles at the vid screen. “Oh, yeah, we just talked and talked. Say hi to Sally, why don’t ya? She’s a real nice girl.” “Hudson, we need your answer, now. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.” Miss Bangkok looks at me, a frown forming on her face. “But that’s for later, possibly. What’s the decision?” “Oh, yeah, that. Hey, we had a couple of questions, do you mind? Just to clarify things, you know?” I smile as Sally pretends to whisper something in my ear. In reality, she just stuck her tongue there, which makes me jump a little. “Now, honey, you be good for Sheriff.” I pat her on the butt. “Oh, yeah, the questions. Where are the transports going to go—do we have a choice in how they’re programmed?” “Of course. You can choose where you want to go,” the Rogue says, smoothly, licking her lips a little. “Well, ain’t that nice. Ain’t that nice, Sally? Maybe these folks aren’t as bad as they seemed to be, after all.” I grin at the vid screen. “Ok, second question.” The Rogue sighs. “Fine. Second question. Just hurry it up, Hudson. We don’t have all day.” 100

VIS No, we don’t, I think, and your day is about to become much shorter than you thought it would be. “Yeah. Second question.” I slide Sally off my lap, lean toward the vid screen. “What kind of wood would you like for your stake?” “What!?” The Rogue’s eyes flash and widen. “What did you say, human?” “Well, I just want to make sure it’s going to match your special little outfit, honey, ‘cause I’m going to nail you to the deck with it.” I grin savagely. “You know, you are pretty stupid. You’d think being almost immortal would add to your IQ, not subtract from it. Hell, no, we’re not fucking surrendering. You can come bite my ass, for that matter, bitch.” The woman’s face transforms into an absolutely hideous mask of rage. Her fangs fully extended, she screams at the vid screen. “You stupid little human piece of shit. I’ll eat your liver if it’s the last thing I ever do…” The screen goes blank. Cheers erupt around me and Sally leans in, kisses me soundly on the cheek. “You’re super, Sheriff!” “Naw, jest tellin’ it like it is,” I drawl. “Now, get ready. I think I upset the nice lady a little.” The men and women of my command are still laughing as they bolt down the mine shaft tunnel, weapons in hand. I look over at Stan, who’s smiling broadly. “Best telling-off I’ve heard in a long time, Sarge,” he says, hefting his two weapons—an air gun and a hand-made machete. “Best one. Loved it.” “Thanks. I’ve been wanting to tell her off ever since I first saw her,” I say in return. Then I look down at the vid screen. “Theo, your people ready to pull back and surprise the hell out of them?” “You betcha!” She answers. She smiles happily. “We’ll be down in a moment or two…” Her remaining troops—just a handful, really, I wince, as I see them file in—look exhausted but happy. Theo and her people had left the Rogues and their Servants some unwelcome surprises, including a few holograms of our people, which will hopefully hold them up for a few moments. Long enough for us to blow a few hatches, suck a few of them into the ventilation system and eventually into the recycling system. We rigged that up too; it was an idea of Theo’s. She can be quite the devious one. She joins me at the table, sitting down on the chair next to mine. “All ready… all my survivors accounted for. Let’s do it.” “Excellent.” I nod at Stan. “Blow the suckers.” There are several dull thuds above us as the explosives detonate. Then silence. I tap the vid screen, bring up some of the remote cameras on level six. Several are just showing empty corridors; there’s one showing Rogues and Servants hanging for dear life onto hatchways and pipes as the suction from the blown ventilation system pulls them toward the gaping holes in the bulkheads. As we watch, a human Servant loses his grip and spins through the air into an opening, his mouth open in a silent (to us) scream. As he falls, he scrabbles along the bulkhead, trying to hold onto a Rogue at one point. The woman Rogue roughly shoves his human hands away and he falls into the hole, 101

VIS helpless. Other cameras show Rogues manhandling hatchway covers to cover up and seal the openings we blew; I spot Miss Bangkok among them, her face still set in a furious snarl. “Well, they certainly are adaptable,” I mutter. “Too bad we didn’t blow more ventilation units.” “We didn’t have time, Archer,” Theo says. “They’ll be coming down soon, once they square that away.” I nod. “We held them back a bit. Every moment we hold them back, the better—with Space Force on its way.” I hear a commotion down toward the opening of the mine shaft. They must be trying to break through. “Stan, you’re it. Let’s rock and roll.” I pick up my air rifle. “Let’s finish this.” The Rogues and their Servants swarm into the tunnel, firing laser weapons and stun guns. Our troops hold them to a slow advance, though, making them pay for every centimeter. Occasionally I hear human screams but mostly the horrid, rasping growls of the Rogues over the chaos of the battle wins out. Stan’s shouting commands, firing his air rifle and swinging his wicked-looking machete, all at once, until two Rogues land on him and take him down in a flurry of arms, legs and blood. I look away, taking time to carefully target each Rogue I shoot. I’m more concerned about hitting the Rogues than the human Servants. The smells start to build up, too. When humans die in battle, or I guess in general, they don’t smell too hot. Neither do vampires. The copper tang of blood fills the air, competing with the general smell of the mine—water, minerals, dampness. The asteroid surprised a lot of the planetary scientists since it contained water, but it makes living here easier. The sounds build to a crescendo, and I race toward the front line. “Cal, we’ve got to hold them here!” I bellow, firing my last ‘cocktail’ at a Rogue. She crumples to the ground and I step over her, swinging the empty rifle into a Servant’s surprised face. He sags to the deck too, blood gushing from nose and mouth. His eyes roll back whitely into his head and I kick him flat. “Hold them here!” “We’re doing the best we can, Archer!” Cal screams, slashing wildly at a Rogue charging him. His machete makes contact with a meaty sound and the Rogue gasps, loudly enough to hear even over the battle sounds. I slam the rifle into her back, where kidneys should be, and she screeches, back arching. Cal brings his arm back and then the machete descends again, through the side of her face and into her skull. She drops bonelessly to the body-covered floor; my feet slip in blood and gore, and I steady myself by grabbing Cal’s shoulder for a moment. “You’re doing fine!” I yell into his ear. “Just fine. Hold them here, we’re making progress.” I let go and move behind him, filling my pockets with syringes for the air rifle from a nearby box. “We’re kicking ass, man!” “If you say so,” he replies, pushing a body out of the way and reloading his rifle as well. “If you say so!” 102

VIS I catch a movement from the corner of my eye, and kick Cal hard in the back of his knee. He yells and falls to the floor, his hands dropping the rifle and grabbing where I kicked. I finish turning and find myself facing Miss Bangkok, her fangs in an unearthly snarl, eyes wide. “You! I told you, I’ll eat your god-damned liver if it’s the last thing I do, and I’ll do it” she grunts, swinging her stun rifle my way, “while you’re watching!” “Die, bitch!” I scream, and bring my rifle up to her chest, pulling the trigger several times over. The air rifle makes its comforting noise, and five syringes sprout from her upper chest. She gags and steps backward, her arms still trying to bring her rifle to bear on me. “Just die, damn it!” I take my rifle, switching my grip, and ram it into her belly as hard as I can. She gags again, air leaving her in a gasp, and she sinks to her knees. Her fangs glisten in the light and as she falls face down, she spasms one last time, raising her head to my right knee and sinking her teeth in as deep as they’ll go. I scream again, this time in pain and horror, as I watch her bite me; the rifle thuds down into her skull, knocking her mouth loose from my leg. Two trails of blood start running down my pants, and she groans as she hits the floor. “Welcome, Servant…” Her face convulses as the ‘cocktails’ start their horrid work, dissolving her from the inside. Hundreds of years come due for payment in seconds, and her body writhes sinuously at my feet, heels tapping the floor with no rhythm at all. Her eyes, dark black, stay locked on mine. I shudder and then anger surges through me. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” I stamp on her face with my boot. “I’ll never be one of your damn Servants. Fuck you!” Her face disappears in a welter of blood, bone then dust, and I turn away, vomiting. Fear and disgust run through me and I feel terribly hot inside, like I’m on fire. I fall to my knees in the blood and debris, continuing to puke my guts out. I can’t seem to stop. “Archer!” Cal yells, crawling over to me. I must have broken his knee, I think dazedly. Sorry about that. I try to sit up, wiping my mouth with the back of one hand. “Oh, my God, Archer!” I gasp, “I’ll be ok. See if you can call Holly… I don’t know where my comp unit is.” I tear open the knee of my right pants leg, look down at the large puncture wounds. Blood’s still oozing out of them both, running down my leg in ruby channels. I swallow hard, tasting bile. Squeeze the wounds. Hell, they say to do it for snake bites… then my mind goes dark.

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VIS Chapter 28 “How is he?” I hear a slightly familiar voice ask. I keep my eyes shut… so tired. Maybe they’ll just go away and I can sleep some more. Then Holly says, “As well as can be expected. We’re waiting to see.” I feel a wonderful, cool, gentle hand on my forehead. My head aches and I feel so hot… I sigh and open my eyes. Major Leech and Holly are standing next to my bed. A bed, not a stretcher, I notice. Then I look past the two women, and note that I’m on board a ship, a Naval ship. Gray paint goes wherever the Navy goes; they must have cornered the market on gray paint and never budged from it. I smile slowly. “Ladies.” Leech grins down at me; I notice a healing pink scar along her jawline. “Sarge. How’s it going?” “Fine, ma’am,” pops out of my mouth. Old training… they both chuckle at me, and Holly keeps her hand on my forehead. “You’re still fevered, Archer. Just rest. You’re safe.” Safe, hell. A Rogue bit me, my mind tells me. You’re not safe. Not anymore. I feel my body tense under the sheets. “But she bit me.” “We know. Cal showed us. Theo and Stan… worked on you.” Her voice shakes a little and I look up at her, watching her face, her eyes. “You should be… fine.” Leech nods. “You just rest. They busted their butts for you, so be nice and stay in bed for a while. We can handle things.” “How are things, anyway?” I try to sit up and both of them push me back to the cushioned bed frame. “Ok, ok. I’ll ask questions lying down. How are things?” The Major straightens up. “Good. We have control of the Habitat again; a few casualties, not as bad as we expected. Your people had taken care of most of the Rogues anyway; we cleaned up after you. Had a few holdouts in the upper levels, the command areas. Fanatical little bastards. The ‘cocktail’ you made, Doc Marten, worked wonders, by the way.” “Theo gave me the recipe…” Holly smiles. “Archer, the Space Force came in the nick of time. We were down to the barricade, holding the Rogues and their Servants off by the skin of our teeth. Cal dragged you behind the barricade, even with his broken knee. He said he has a score to settle with you about that, too. But the Major and her troops got there, and we mopped up.” I grin. “Fantastic!” “Yeah, we have four Space Force corvettes and one transport here, orbiting the asteroid. We’ve reestablished life support in the Habitat. We’ve also… enhanced… your defenses. Muhammad had done a good bit of work, but we beefed it up some. I’m sorry about him, Archer.” Margaret Leech’s smile goes away. “He was a good man, a damn good man.” 104

VIS “We lost a lot of good people. These guys may be rough around the edges, but they’re not bad folks.” I look her straight in the eyes. “And yes, Muhammad was a great guy. I miss him, and I know you do, too. We all do.” “We’ll have a ceremony later,” Holly says. “To remember everyone we lost.” My eyes shut of their own accord. “Good, remember to wake me,” I murmur and slip back into sleep. A commotion wakes me. My eyes snap open, and I sit up, regardless of the sore muscles, new skin bandages and the serious twinge in my right knee. “What the hell?” Cal and Helga look up from the floor where they’re tangled together. Cal’s underneath her, his knee with its black brace sticking out at an angle. Helga sits up and grins at me. “Howdy, thar, Archer!” “What are you two doing?” Cal pushes at Helga. “Off of me!” Helga looks down at him. “Shrump!” “Shrimp, and that’s Mister Shrimp, to you!” He tries to rumble and she laughs delightedly. She also stands up and then casually picks him up, stands him on his two feet. “Mister Shrump. He learning to walk again; he come toward you, to see you and almost fall onto you. So I knock him down trying to stop.” She laughs again. “He easy to knock over, little shrump.” “So was it going to be payback time for the knee?” I ask Cal, my smile matching Helga’s. “Sorry about that, man! Only thing I could think to do, at the time.” He chuckles. “No, I was actually aiming for the chair next to your bed, I was going to pull nurse duty for a while, since we managed to chase Holly away for a nap. Man, this brace thing makes it hard to walk. Plus, these decks are smooth as hell.” He pats Helga on the back. “Thanks for keeping me from injuring Archer even more than he is. And thanks for not squishing the life out of me.” “No prob!” Helga pats him back. “I go now, too busy. You talk, I come back with tea.” “Sounds great,” I reply, pulling the blanket further up around me. I don’t feel like I’m burning up anymore; I actually feel cold, which is a nice change of events. My head doesn’t ache any more, not even the low headache I’ve had since before the vampire mess started. In fact, I feel oddly good. “Sit down and rest a spell, man, before you fall over again. Helga’s not here to catch you this time.” Cal sits, stretching his leg out before him. “OK. No problem about the knee. I’d rather have a broken knee than a missing head. Thanks for saving my butt, Archer.” “That’s what Gunny Sergeants do.” “But I’m not sure I’d make it in the Corps,” he grins. “You guys are just too butch for little ole me.” “You were plenty ‘butch’ as you put it, in the mines. I saw those swings of the machete.” 105

VIS He makes a face. “I’d like to forget them. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” “We all do what we gotta do, Cal.” “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He nods. “Your plan saved the day. And you took care of Miss Bangkok or whatever you were calling her.” “Not before she bit me.” I look down at my leg, covered with new skin bandages. “Wish she hadn’t done that, for sure.” “Theo and Stan said you’d be ok. They said they got to you in time, they thought.” He looks at me seriously. “How do you feel?” I think for a moment. “Oddly good, sort of… relaxed but energetic. Maybe it’s all the sleep I’ve gotten. How long have I slept, just out of curiosity?” “About 3 days.” “Hell’s bells. I better get up.” I sit up further, wondering where clothes are. I’m buck naked under here. Cal shakes his head. “Not without permission. Doctor’s orders, and she really means it. Plus the Major backed her up. So don’t make me sucker punch you.” I sit back. “Ok, ok.” My stomach rumbles. “Anything to eat in this joint, or is that verboten too?” “No problem… I’ll order you something up. What sounds good?” He stands up slowly, wobbles over to the food dispenser unit on the bulkhead. Of course, it’s painted gray too. Good ole Navy, never misses a beat with the paint. “How about a cheeseburger and some fries?” I feel ravenous. “Coming right up, sir. Just a moment!” He grins at me and dials the order in. A moment or two later, the unit makes a tiny melodious noise and a tray emerges with my cheeseburger and fries. Of course, it’s all reconstituted protein and whatnot but it looks and tastes almost like the real thing; I devour it happily, then sit back and rest. “Ok, Cal, what all did Theo and Stan do?” “What do you mean?” He tries but fails in looking innocent. “You know what I mean; Holly’s voice shook when she talked about it. What the hell did they have to do? Am I stuck being some damn Rogue’s Servant?” “No!” He sounds horrified. “No way! They said they got to you in time, they thought.” “They thought? They’re not sure?”

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VIS “All I know is what they said. They had a big pow-wow between the two of them, did a private call to Earth, stuck you with several long needles, chased us all out of the compartment. Then they emerged about four hours later, looking exhausted. So you’ll have to wait and ask them. They’re still sleeping. Apparently more Alliance members are coming out on an emergency flight, courtesy of the Space Force. The Company’s been shut out of the communication loop for right now; the Space Force is reporting a communication anomaly here, and they’re ‘working on fixing it’. So we’re ok. You’re ok.” “We’re all ok. Fine.” I burp. “Excuse me.” I hand him the tray. “Yep, you sound fine, you Jarhead.” He grins at me and tosses the tray into a recycler. “Why don’t you get more rest? I think you’ll be needing all the rest you can get.” “Yeah, I think you may be right,” I nod. “Thanks for the burger and fries, Cal. And thanks for everything. You’re a good kid.” “Thanks, Archer.” His eyes fill with tears and he hastily bats them away with one hand. “Thanks. Now go to sleep, dingbat.” He turns down the lights of the compartment to a comfortable twilight level and I sigh. Belly full, mind more at ease… I drift off into the night, dreaming of Holly, smiling.

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VIS Chapter 29 “We have the perimeter secured; all the Rogue and Servant bodies disposed of, the wounded are recovering…” Major Leech says firmly. “We’re having a memorial service for our losses today at 1300. Any questions?” The room murmurs. “I have a question,” says one burly miner, his arm in a sling. “How the hell did this happen?” “The Rogues, the fight, or how we got our asses saved by the nice folks of Space Force?” I reply, standing up. I hear appreciative chuckles but the miner looks truculent. “I want to know how these bastards got here. Who sent them? Why us?” His eyes snap fire at me; I realize he’s very, very angry. Have to handle this carefully, I think to myself. This anger could go against us in a second and spread like wildfire. Or it could work for us, and energize people. We’re not out of the woods yet by a long shot. “Well, as far as we can determine…” I start. “Hell. No, let me just tell it to you straight, no weasel words and crap like that. This is what I think, based on what we’ve gathered in terms of intel. The Company board of directors has been taken over by Rogues and their Servants. The last truly human members were either kicked off politically or had ‘accidents’. So the Rogues are in charge of one of the largest corporations in the Federation.” The audience members gasp and I watch the miner. He looks me straight in the eye. “And?” “And… they want these minerals, the ultra-dense ones you’ve discovered and have been mining. They want them so they can fuel their ships with better, longer-lasting fuel than anyone else. And they’re willing to kill any of us to get it.” “OK. At least you’re not bullshitting us like some Company rep would.” The man sits down slowly, his eyes still holding mine. “Appreciate that.” “Hey, I’m in it too, man. That’s the thing. We’re all in this together. Either we work together—and overcome this—or we’ll go down one by one. We can let fear rule us or we can kick ass and tell our grandkids about this one day. That’s the way I look at it.” I look out over the crowd. “Listen. I’m just an old gunnery sergeant from the Corps. The Marine Corps. I’ve traveled around the world, met interesting people, and killed them.” The room erupts in laughter. I let them go for a moment or two and then wave my hands for quiet. Eventually, people settle down. They needed the comic relief, I think. We all do. “Yeah, yeah, I know. The old line. Anyway, I thought this posting would be a cushy job. Break up a few bar fights, keep the working girls in line,” I wink at Sally and she smiles back broadly. “That kind of shit. But this has changed things. We have to deal with things as they are, not as we’d like them to be. You know?” “Sheriff!” A short, dumpy-looking woman pops to her feet, waving a hand. “Sheriff, I demand to be heard!” 108

VIS “OK. Fine. Everyone has a voice here…” I start but she cuts me off. “Not true! This has become a military dictatorship! Under the contract we all have with the Company, we have the right to freedom of expression and freedom of assembly. You ordered us all here, and you shut down the newspaper. Those are obvious violations of…” The crowd begins to get angry, with several people yelling at the woman to sit down and shut up (as well as to perform extremely difficult if not anatomically impossible feats upon herself). “Wait a second! Let the lady finish.” I put the slightest stress on ‘lady’ and many of the angry voices quiet down. “We have a right to say what’s on our mind. I’ll explain my actions, if you’ll let her finish.” She looks a bit sad, perhaps hoping to be a martyr. I put my most patient mask on and nod at her to finish. She pouts a moment and continues. “Sheriff, I didn’t sign up to be in your military order, or whatever it is you call it. I didn’t sign up to kill people. I’m a hydroponics engineer. I am devoted to nonviolence. This is just some sort of game to you, isn’t it?” “No. No game.” I stare at her. “I’m glad you like hydroponics. I do too, and I appreciate your hard work in the area. That’s how we all eat and drink here. But… I’m also devoted to saving my own life, as well as all the lives I’m responsible for. No Company contract matters now. Do you actually think the Company wants any of us alive at this point? Do you think a contract stored on one of their comps is worth a thing right now? If you do, I suggest you talk with Doc Marten. She can prescribe something for you.” The woman turns beet red. “See? Now you’re trying to intimidate me!” I sigh. “No, I’m not. I’m trying to make you and everyone else here see the reality of the situation. Even if you are morally or religiously opposed to killing, you can still help us. You can save lives. You don’t have to be on the front lines in order to do that. I’ve lost friends, damn good friends, protecting this place. Face it, lady. We’re all basically walking dinners to the Rogues. If you don’t want to be tortured and then drained by them, you better face reality and start working with us.” I look out over the audience. “I shut down the paper because it was a drain of resources and time. The editor of the paper wasn’t real happy about it but he finally agreed. He’ll reopen the paper as soon as we’re not in an emergency situation.” “So you intimidated him, too?” The dumpy woman shrills. “See? Power corrupts!” “What’s your name?” I look at her. She blanches. “Why?” “Well, if you’re going to do all this talking, I’d at least like to call you by name.” “Fern James. Of course, that’s probably already on your list…” She stands there, her hands balling into fists.

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VIS “Ms. James, I don’t have a list. Not today, anyway. What I do have is a need. Something I need to ask all of you to do. We have to put aside our differences and work together, or the next time the Rogues come visiting, we’ll all be dead. And I’d really like to live awhile longer. Don’t know about the rest of you.” I look around. “This isn’t the way I expected my new job to be. I’d much rather it was like old times. But it’s not. We have to deal with it. I’m in charge here on the Habitat. Major Leech is in charge on the surface of the asteroid and in the orbital space above it. Period.” Fern James splutters. “It’s a dictatorship! We’re being railroaded, people! They have no legal right…” Major Leech stands up next to me. “Actually, I do have the legal rights necessary. I hereby declare this to be an area of military influence, subject to the Universal Code of Military Justice. Gunnery Sergeant Archer Hudson, here, is in command of ground forces. I’m in command of everything else. If you have a grievance, I suggest you submit it to me in an electronic form, and I’ll have my legal counsel get back to you.” The woman in the audience looks shocked. “You… you…” “I can, and I just did. Now, Ms. Fern James, sit down and shut up. We have much more important things to talk about right now. Like I said, submit a form to me and we’ll look into your complaints.” The Major uses her command voice, a tone that books no argument in reply. James sinks to her chair, eyes wide. “People, Gunny here is right. We have to work together. You barely made it out of this scrape alive. We barely made it here in time. The next time, we might not be so lucky. I know none of you signed up for a tour of duty in the Space Force or in the Corps. But we have the experience and the organization to keep you alive. So please, for a while, listen to us and work with us. We’ll work this out, together.” Major Leech looks over the room. “Any other complaints?” The room’s silent. I glance around. No one raises their hands, no one looks pissed off. “Look, folks. I don’t want you to think we’re taking over or something because it’s fun. It isn’t. But we do have the experience needed and we want to keep everyone safe. OK? Any problems? Speak up.” No one says anything, not even Fern James, who looks sullen. Have to keep an eye on her, I think. She could be trouble. “OK. How about if we break up into teams? You each have an assignment… check your comps. We put people on teams where we thought your work experience would be most helpful. If we work as teams, we’ll get more done. If you have questions, or you want to be on a different team, come see me or Major Leech when the next shift starts. We’ll stick with the usual shift rotation, just like usual, here. No need to change that. Make sure you get plenty to eat and drink—sorry, the bar’s closed, but we have lots of non-alcoholic things for you…” Groans (good natured ones) fill the air. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll have a hell of a party once we straighten things out, ok? Tab’s on me.” Now cheers ring out. I grin. Oh my God, these people love to party… I think I just signed my last check away as a bar tab! Major Leech nods. “Yes, we thought a team approach would be good. We have to get more rifles and ‘cocktails’ made; we have to train some of you to use more powerful weapons; we have Corpsmen to train some of you as medical assistants. The ships in orbit are watching carefully for the next 110

VIS shipment from Earth…” Her eyes narrow. “I think we’ll give them quite a surprise welcome this time around. More of a surprise than they got last time.” Holly speaks up. “I definitely want to thank all those who volunteered during the recent unpleasantness as medical help. We couldn’t have done it without you all.” “Just shows, if we work together, not even these Rogue bastards can beat us.” I grin. “And think about this… if we fight off the Company, and figure out a legal way to do it, we can lay claim to this deposit of minerals. It can be a profit sharing deal. That could be… interesting.” I see people begin to calculate the credits in their heads. Good, that’ll keep them busy. At least until the next shipment of Rogues arrives. As we walk toward the Habitat command center, Leech smiles nicely at me. “Like being back in the Corps, Gunny?” I gulp. “You weren’t just using my old rank back there for… effect?” “Hell, no. You’re re-activated. Don’t you love it?” She grins wickedly. “What’s the saying? Once a Marine…” “Always a Marine.” I finish her statement. “Uuu-rah!” Smiling weakly, I stop and then salute her. “Ma’am, reporting for duty!” “Carry on!” She snaps the salute back sharply. “Thanks, Gunny. I need your help. You need mine. And we both have a debt to call in… for Muhammad.” “InshAllah, Major, we’ll both be there to get payment due.” I hold her eyes with mine. “And payback’s hell.”

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VIS Chapter 30 Holly takes my hand just before we walk into the Command Center. “May I talk with you for a moment, Archer?” “Sure,” I smile down at her. Amazing, she’s only a few inches shorter than me but looking down into her blue eyes is something that makes my heart race. I squeeze her hand lightly and guide her past the hatchway, a little ways down the corridor. There are still marks from the fighting here, but cleaning has been a little low on the list of priorities. I make sure we’re not in an especially messy part, then pull her close and kiss her firmly. “I love you.” She returns the kiss. “I love you, too. I just…” Uh-oh. Doesn’t sound good. I brace myself. After all, she’s a brainy, beautiful doctor and I’m just a Gyrene. Got through high school ok but sure didn’t want any more degrees than that. “OK…” She takes my head between her hands. “I want to make sure you’re not doing this out of some misguided sense of chivalry or something.” “What?” I’m confused now. “What do you mean? I love you, you love me, it’s that simple. I want to marry you.” “You always charge right up the middle, don’t you?” Holly smiles at me. “Is it that simple?” “I was sort of hoping it was. I’m not really the knowledgeable one about all this lovey-dovey stuff,” I reply. “I think it is. Are you not sure? Not ready?” “I’m ready.” She blushes. “I’ve had a crush on you for years. Never told you, though. You’d have laughed at me.” “Laughed at you? No way.” I blush in turn. “I was always a little intimidated by you. You’re one of the toughest broads I know.” “Broad?” She holds my chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Broad? Why not chick or babe or…” “How about wife? Does that sound better?” I kiss her. “Really, why are you worried?” “I never thought…” she pauses, swallowing. “I never thought I’d meet someone like you, get married. I figured that was for other people.” “We can work it out. I want to be with you. That’s all that’s important to me.” I hug her gently. “I never thought I could land such a beautiful, smart woman as you…” “Now you’re just being flattering…” Holly murmurs against my chest. “No…” I inhale her scent; some sort of light, woodsy perfume in her hair. “No. Just honest. Like I’ll always be with you.”

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VIS “Hey, you two…” Cal calls, from down the corridor. “Major’s wondering if we can talk anytime soon, lovebirds.” “Yeah, yeah…” I grin. “We’ll be right there.” I hug Holly again. “Is everything ok now?” “Yes, Archer,” Holly says, brushing her hair back from her face. “Yes. I just had to be sure. And now I am.” “Well, good. Glad you are, because I know I am, woman!” I pat her lightly on the butt. “And now back to work for both of us.” “Hands to yourself… if you want me to be able to concentrate worth a damn,” She laughs, and takes my hand in hers. We walk down to the hatchway entrance to the Command Center and my breathing settles. She scared the hell out of me there for a second or two. I was all ready for the ‘I’m not ready for this’ or ‘There’s something I need to tell you’ or the ‘It’s not you, it’s me…’ speech. Thank God that wasn’t what it was. Major Leech grins at us. “Lovebirds through being all kissy-poo?” “Ma’am, yes, ma’am. Kissing completed, for now,” I bark, snapping to attention. Holly turns a beautiful bright red as the room breaks into laughter. “Good, maybe now we can get back to work,” the Major chuckles. “We have a boatload of work ahead of us, people, so anyone else interested in extracurricular activities better get it done now, and not be slacking off later…” Stan, Theo, Cal, Holly, Helga… I look around the room at the familiar faces. They look in various stages of exhaustion and shock; their expressions are mirrored by the faces of other folks, new people, who’ve joined us. Several mining engineers, a handful of chemists from the refinery down in the main mine shaft, some office personnel. And Sally, looking resplendent in a pink boa and a shimmery black dress cut up one side to show off her legs. She bats her eyes at me… “So what’s the plan, Major Leech?” “That’s what we’re here to decide.” She walks over to the large black-surfaced table and taps the edge, then lays her military-grade comp set on the surface. The image of our Habitat seems to grow organically out of the top of the table in 3-D. Representations of the Space Force cruisers and transports circle overhead at their respective orbits. Several people gasp, but I’ve seen this before, and so has Holly, although not quite this detailed. What we had Earthside was a little more crude, an earlier model, but just as effective. Here we are, there they are, how do we make them go away? The more things change, the more they actually stay the same, I think. “We have plenty of air, water, heat and food. We have a shitload of the damn ultra-dense mineral they want. In fact, from what I’ve been able to find out, we’re the only major source of this stuff. They’ve been able to make some on the milligram level Earthside, but it’s not as pure. And we have a hell of a lot more than that.” She moves a finger over one area and the supplies for the Habitat appear as a display. “A hell of a lot more.” 113

VIS “And that’s what they’re desperate for,” Theo says slowly. “Why?” “I think they want to get off planet, get out of the solar system, get away from us—the Alliance,” Stan replies. “We’ve managed to keep them under control, but now they’re making a real play for independence. Can you image the world they’d have, if they could find a place to populate?” I can, a little, and shudder. “So how we keep them from doing that?” Theo looks around the room, since we’ve all gone quiet. “I have a couple of ideas…” “OK,” Major Leech closes the supply screen, leaving the images of the Habitat and its guarding ships up. “Let’s have them.” The Alliance woman holds up one hand, counts the points she’s making on her fingers. “One: we have something they’re desperate for. Two: we can cut and run; we’ve enough transport here to evacuate everyone. Three: if we do that, they’ll get what they want. Four: We can fight them here, but eventually, we’d take a critical hit, or they’d be crazy enough to biobomb us or use an antimatter device. They’re that bad.” “So we do the Last Stand at the Alamo again?” Stan doesn’t sound impressed. “No…” Theo smiles wolfishly. “We lure them in. Then we blow the asteroid.” Good Lord, I don’t feel much like a kamikaze pilot or a suicide bomber right now. “Um…” “Yes? You have a better idea?” Theo stares at me, almost aggressively. “You know how bad they are, Archer. We have to stop them.” “Yep. We sure do. But we don’t have to die in the process.” I wave a hand toward the Habitat. “What if we use this as the lure that it is, but also figure out a way to evacuate the people? We don’t all have to go to Valhalla straight away. At least not all of us.” “So that’s the best you two can come up with?” One of Major Leech’s Navy rankers huffs. “We could take them out at long distance…” “If you can see them… they have all the technology and money of the Company behind them,” I say. “They have more high tech shit than you guys do, that’s always been true. Back in the day, and now. So they can sneak up on us and then your long range plans aren’t worth much. But we can bring them in close and take them out.” “How?” Holly speaks up. “How do we take them out?” “Like Theo said, we blow the asteroid.” I nod at one of the mining engineers. “It’s possible, isn’t it? That’s why you guys have been so careful with the mining excavations?” “Yes,” she says quietly. “This asteroid’s not the most stable thing I’ve worked on. Enough pressure, and this thing would break apart into pieces.”

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VIS “But then we lose the mineral,” One of the chemists points out. “And we could use it too… not just the Rogues want it.” “We can get a bunch of it on some of those transports. If we gut them and make them more for moving the mineral rather than people. And we’d still have enough transportation for the personnel here.” I look over the group. “We can get the people and a good deal of the mineral off the asteroid. Lure the Rogues here, then destroy it. And hopefully them, too, if we’re lucky.” “And then where do we go?” Stan looks around. “We can’t go back to Earth, that’d be a death sentence with the Rogues being in charge of the Company. They have their own army down there, you know that.” Yes, each corporation has their own Army, Navy and Air Force… but only the Space Force has the Marines. One of the few smart things the remaining politicians did, before the Final War Earthside was assigning the Corps to duty only with the Space Force, which, ideally, is supposed to stay above the internecine fighting that goes on between the corporate entities. Not that it always does, but still, it’s better than nothing at ninth and last. “We can go to another Habitat, we can go to Mars, we can look and see what other asteroids are prepared enough to accept this number of personnel. We have options, Stan.” Major Leech nods. “He’s right. I know we can even get a few more transports in here if I put out some shielded calls. We can get a lot of the mineral on board and all your people. But we’re going to have to decide, and decide soon. Gunny’s also right about their cloaking devices being better than ours. I’d hate to fight them at close quarters without being able to evacuate folks.” I nod. “Why don’t we put it to a vote?” Major Leech raises her eyebrows at me. I go on, bravely. It’s not every day I get to stare down a Space Force Major. Better now than never. “No, seriously, just amongst us. We’re the ones making the decisions. We need to figure out if we just want to cut and run, or cut and run and leave them a big ole surprise. We can’t stay and keep fighting them here. Our luck won’t last that long.” Leech sighs. “OK. Fine. Let’s vote.” “All those for just getting the hell out of Dodge, leaving the mineral behind for the Rogues?” I look around the room. “It’s ok, tell us what you think by voting. Raise your hand if that sounds like the best idea to you.” Out of the twenty or so people in the room, only two raise their hands. “OK, now. How about all those in favor of evacuating the personnel and the mineral, and then blowing the Rogues and the asteroid to hell and back when they get here.” Eighteen hands go up. I smile. “Sounds like we have a clear majority. Now we just have to fight out the details.” The people in the room look at each other and laugh. “OK, so who gets to stay behind and push the plunger on the detonator?” Stan says, crossing his arms. 115

VIS “Hell, not me, buddy,” I crow. “I hear they can do that remotely now-a-days!” More chuckles fill the room but Stan doesn’t smile. I look at him. “Seriously, Stan. No one needs to stay. We can set this to be automatic.” “Automatic devices fail. To be sure, someone’s going to have to stay.” The room quiets down. I look around at the faces. Maybe he’s right, part of my mind says. One or two of us may have to stay behind. I swallow hard. “OK, I’ll stay.” Hell, we all die anyway. I’ve had plenty of close calls, some too close. If this is the way it’s gonna be, that’s fine. Part of me feels ripped apart, though—the part that thought I had a chance at a happy life with the woman I love. C’est la vie, buddy, sometimes shit happens to the best of us. “If you’re staying, I am too.” Holly walks over next to me. “No argument, either.” “Hell, no! You have to go with the personnel—you’re the doctor.” I look down at her, trying to look severe. It’s hard. I try harder. “Helga’s well-trained. And there are plenty of Corpsmen on board the Major’s vessels. I’m staying if you are. And that’s the end of that,” Holly says firmly. “Now let’s talk about how to get people to the transports in time, and how to move as much mineral product as we possibly can before you all have to leave.” Leech looks back and forth between the two of us. “Are you damn sure?” Her voice shakes, just a little. I nod. “I’m the one that pushed the idea…” “I’m the one who came up with the idea,” Theo says. “Archer, shut up, just shut up. I’m staying. I can handle things. It’s what I was raised for, anyway. If I can take out possibly hundreds of Rogues by myself, then I’ve lived a life worth living.” “Ok, people, we can’t all volunteer to be ritual sacrifices or kamikaze pilots or whatever,” Leech growls. “Anyone else want to jump on the short bus?” Theo smiles widely. “I’m on the bus, I’m the driver, and the door has closed. End of discussion. Like Holly said, let’s look now at the logistics.” “Are you sure?” I walk over to Theo. “You know what it means. I know you do.” “And I know you and Holly should live a long and happy life together. I’ve been born and bred for this, Archer. It’s not just about the needs of each of us—this is bigger than that. We have to stop the expansion of the Rogues, at least for now, and I can help do it. Please don’t ask any more questions. They need your skills elsewhere. Put them to work, and get people and the mineral off this asteroid. Soon.” She walks away, away from the rest of us. The room’s gone very silent. I stand there for a long moment, feeling my fists unclench of their own accord. I hadn’t even noticed that I’d made fists, but my fingers ache as I open my hands.

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VIS “Archer, maybe she’s right.” Holly comes close to me. “Maybe she is. If she changes her mind, I’ll stay here, with you. Whatever happens, I want to be by your side. OK?” “Yeah,” I say, huskily, watching the back of the Alliance woman across the room. She’s a fanatic but I’m glad she’s a fanatic on our side. I think we’d be dead if she was on the other side. “Yeah.” Major Margaret Leech clears her throat. “If that drama is over, maybe we can focus on some other details. Gunny?” “Yep, let’s get this show on the road.” I walk back over to the display. It’s Theo’s decision and I’m not going to argue it with her. She’s a big girl. I just hate losing good people. Maybe I can figure something out, I don’t know. “We need to set up teams—transport teams and a group of engineering types who can work with the Space Force deck crews to redo the innards of some of the transports. Who wants to volunteer for what?” People gather around the table and start talking. Theo stands by herself on the other side of the room, her back to us.

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VIS Chapter 31 “Incoming! Craft has entered interdiction zone!” A young man’s voice rings out over our comps, and Major Leech springs to the table, looking for the intruder on the 3-D representation. “Orders, ma’am?” The voice sounds a little worried. “Hold one.” She looks over the display. “Call for identification. The outline of the ship isn’t one I’m familiar with. Give them one chance, one chance only.” The officer on board one of the cruisers clears his throat and then hails the intruder. “Attention. You have entered a restricted flight area. Identify yourself immediately or you will be fired upon.” There’s a brief silence. Then a reply: “This is the S. S. Minnow, home port Johannesburg. Property of Von Drehle Enterprises. Don’t fire, we’re not the enemy.” Von Drehle? That name rings a bell. “Hey, that’s the last name of the second victim… Vespania Von Drehle. I haven’t heard of Von Drehle Enterprises, though.” I look over at Leech. “Rogues?” “No, I think if they were Rogues, they’d have come in firing.” She glances over at Theo and Stan, who are standing together away from the rest of us, talking quietly. They return her look, and Theo nods. “Yes, I think you’re right.” She walks over to where we’re standing by the display. “Von Drehle isn’t a known Rogue family name, either. They have… families.” “Is that why some of them had red dragons tattooed on their necks?” I ask. She nods in assent. Major Leech makes her decision. “Hail the S. S. Minnow and tell them they’re cleared for Habitat docking.” The cruiser officer does so, and we watch the image of the ship move closer to the landing zones of the Habitat, and finally touchdown. A snaking umbilical tunnel automatically reaches out to the ship and it, in turn, automatically connects with it. Whoever our visitors are, we’ll be seeing them shortly. The Marines who’ve accompanied Major Leech to the Habitat lock and load their weapons, preparing themselves for any eventuality. She gestures to me, and her Marines, finally nodding at Theo and Stan. “Come on. The rest of you, stay here. If things go south, you’ll know.” We hurry down the corridors toward the landing facilities, not knowing who or what we’ll meet. A Marine Lance Corporal hands me a heavy-duty stun gun and I feel a little more secure, or at least a little more useful. I smile at her and remember my favorite Lance Corporal, Hillis. She did her tours of duty, retired, got married… where the hell did she go? Oh, yeah. The horse ranch in Wyoming. Good place to be, especially since there wasn’t much radiation damage out there and no mutant problems. She was a good Marine and I’m sure she’s a great horse rancher. I snap myself back to reality and realize we’re almost there. I glance down at the weapon, make sure the safety’s off and that it’s fully charged—it is. I’m as ready as I can be… The trained Marines spread out in the large compartment, making sure they have clear fields of fire. We all wait until the air locks finish cycling and start to slowly open. Three people step out: two 118

VIS young men and an older man. They’re clad in stylish suits and have some expensive-looking haircuts; must be civilians, I think. The two men spread out on either side of the older man, looking nervously at the Devil Dogs staring them down. Their hands drift toward side pockets, and the older man clears his throat. Their hands stop immediately. Good training, damn good training. “I’m Claudius Von Drehle. I’m looking for Sheriff Archer Hudson.” The man’s voice even sounds old. So many people have had rejuve treatments done, it’s hard to tell nowadays how old someone really is, but this guy sounds like the real deal. His clear green eyes look over us calmly but commandingly. “I’m Sheriff Hudson.” I step forward, offer my hand. He shakes it and looks me up and down. “Quite the welcoming committee. And what’s happened to the Habitat’s landing areas? And your communications setup? We’ve been sending broadcasts out every hour, and no one’s answered. Your comm center down?” I smile a little. “Well, we’ve had a bit of excitement here. Sorry about the comm being down. We’re pretty much down for usual communications; we can talk with Space Force.” I nod toward Major Leech, who steps forward. “Major Margaret Leech, commanding officer, Tarawa Fleet detachment four, Space Fleet.” “Glad to meet you, Major. We certainly noticed your detachment as we were coming in.” He sighs. “I don’t travel much anymore, so it was certainly… interesting.” “Sir, why are you here?” I ask, curious. “I’m looking for answers about my daughter’s death.” He turns to me. “I received notification from the Company that she’d died here, and that the death was under investigation. I have questions, especially since I haven’t heard anything for days now.” “I’m sorry about your daughter’s death. We were investigating it and then things got a little dicey.” I look at the older man, seeing the sadness and tiredness in his patrician face. “Sir, why don’t you come to my office, and we can talk? It’ll be more private and just a tad more comfortable.” He nods. “My men can stay with your Marines, Major. I think they’ll find they have a lot in common.” “Yes, sir, that’s fine. I’ll get them some chow.” Major Leech looks at us. “You two good to go?” I know what she’s asking… so does Theo and Stan, who are standing well behind the rest of us, watching, judging. She glances back to them and Theo gives a fractional nod of approval. I catch it too and smile. “Yes, we’re fine. We’ll rejoin you, Major, in the Command Center in a few.” I gesture towards the hatchway and Claudius von Drehle follows me down the corridor to the elevators, finally to my office. I clear off a chair (full of air rifle parts) and ask him to take a seat. “I hate giving bad news to family members, but the communication was correct; your daughter died a few days ago and we’ve been investigating.” He sits down slowly, holding my eyes with his. “How did she die?” 119

VIS “Sir, it was a murder.” I sigh, look down at my hands as I sit on the edge of my desk. “I’m sorry.” Claudius sighs too. “She was the free spirit in our family. And our family is full of rather eccentric people, you understand. But Vespania danced to her own music. How was she murdered?” “It was…” Hell, how do I tell this old guy his daughter was tied up, raped, tortured and drained by a sadistic vampire? They didn’t cover this in the Corps and they sure didn’t cover this in the law enforcement training I got when I retired from the Corps, either. “It was bad. I really don’t think you want all the details.” “That’s where you’re wrong, young man.” His green eyes go cold, staring into me. “I want to know. All the details. It’s my duty, it’s my right.” Looking down at my hands again, I nod. “OK. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s bad. Worse than I’ve seen for years. Basically, your daughter ran into a serial killer. One who enjoys rape, torture and killing. I can show you the photos if you want, but I really, really wouldn’t recommend it.” “Show me the photos. Has my daughter’s body been committed to space?” His face looks pale. I nod again. “Yes, we had the Habitat chaplain do a brief service, just like we’d do for any Habitat personnel who died here… and we launched her remains. Are you damn sure about the photos?” “Yes.” His voice is firm. “OK, Mr. Von Drehle.” I tap my comp set, bring up the crime scene photos of Vespania’s compartment. “They’re very graphic.” “I know.” He stands up, looks at the vid screen. His hands tighten into fists, the knuckles turning white as he looks through the images. His daughter’s there, in the harsh light of the camera, bound, gagged and with her eyes wide in her final horror. Blood’s run down her bare chest to the carpet; her chest juts out since her elbows are tied tightly behind her back. The photos go around the body, showing how the ligatures have been pulled so tight, they’ve cut into her pale skin; they show everything. He taps the screen, going back to a full frontal shot of her; he stares at it, looking at her eyes. “Good God.” “Why don’t you sit down for a moment, and I’ll get you some water?” “Don’t treat me like a baby!” Claudius shouts. “I’ve seen worse than this…” His voice shakes with anger, grief and horror. “Worse!” “Hopefully not other family members, Mr. Von Drehle. It’s different when you see family this way.” I offer him a bottle of water. “Drink it.” “Damn it…” He starts, but then his voice breaks. He yanks the bottle from my hand, twists the top and chugs some down. “Vespania…” “I’m sorry.” I look down at him. “We caught the bitch, if that makes you feel any better. She’s dead.”

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VIS “Good. If she wasn’t, she would be, soon.” He puts the bottle down on the desk. “Who was she, and why did she do this?” “Well, her assumed name was Camilla Parker… she took the name and ID off one of her Earthside victims. She came here and basically decided to enjoy herself. She was a mean, sadistic bitch. Extremely powerful, very seductive.” How much do I tell him? He’ll think I’m just crazy if I get into the vampire scene. He’s dealing with a hell of a lot right now… Claudius clears his throat, wipes his eyes. “Was she a Rogue?” “Um… well, why don’t you tell me how you know that word.” I raise my eyebrows. “Not many people do.” “I make it my business to know lots of things,” he replies drily. “That’s how I built my corporation. Even though we’re based in the backwaters of the world, in Johannesburg, we still keep up with things, Hudson. And I know about the Rogues and the Alliance. What I want to know is why was there a Rogue here, and why did she kill my daughter? And how in the world did you manage to kill the Rogue?” “Sir, we had help. We have two Alliance personnel here. One of them killed the Rogue.” I sit down in the chair he’s vacated, since he’s in my chair. “I may as well be up front with you. We think the Rogue was here as an advance scout; a whole shitload of Rogues and their Servants showed up not long after Camilla Parker did, and tried to take over the Habitat. They damn near well did. If Major Leech hadn’t shown up, and if people here hadn’t sacrificed their lives, the Rogues would’ve won.” “Why would they want a Habitat? The mines?” The coldness remains in his eyes and I realize this man could be very dangerous to have as an enemy, very good to have as a friend. “Yep. The ultra-dense mineral the miners have been extracting and refining…” I match his look with one of my own. “And we’re not going to let them have it. Apparently, they’re tired of Earth, and being controlled by the Alliance, and want to set up their own little home somewhere else. And they don’t give a shit as to how many humans they kill in order to do so. Your daughter was Parker’s second victim here, but Parker left a trail of bodies Earthside too.” “We have to stop them, then.” He sounds like a man with his mind made up. He leans over and taps the screen of the comp, closing the images. “And I have a score to settle with them. I’m not a good man to anger. I have a very long memory and a very long reach.” “Well, I kinda thought that,” I smile. “Anyone who just cruises a multi-billion credit ship over to a Habitat to get answers is someone I don’t want to get on the wrong side of…” “I want to help.” Claudius Von Drehle smiles slowly at me. “I want to help; you and Major Leech, and your Alliance friends must have some sort of plan. Let me assist you. I can put my whole interplanetary fleet at your disposal in hours. Just say the word.” “Wow, that’d solve a lot of our problems…” I scratch my chin, time for a shave. “We’ve got a plan; we know we’re the only mine with the mineral, so the Rogues’ll be back soon for Round Two. We’d like 121

VIS to evacuate the Habitat, get as much of the mineral as we can off the asteroid, and then blow it to hell and back when the Rogues land.” “Excellent.” He smiles again, almost a death’s head grin. “A bit risky, but if you don’t take risks, you don’t reap benefits. Let’s go to the Command Center; I assume Major Leech can contact my ship captains, even if the Habitat can’t.” I stand up, offer him my hand again. “Glad to have you on the team, Mr. Von Drehle. We sure appreciate it. And I’m very sorry about your daughter.” “Time for grief later.” He stands up, shaking my hand firmly. “You know that. You’re a Marine veteran. I did my research on the way over here. Let’s get to work. If I know the Rogues the way I think I do, we don’t have much time to get ready. But we should have enough time to get my fleet here.” We break off the handshake and then walk quickly, quietly back to the Command Center, my mind going a mile a minute. Now we have the resources we so desperately needed… and what sounds like a very good ally in Von Drehle. And revenge is a dish best served cold.

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VIS Chapter 32 “Wow!” Theo sits down next to me in the Command Center. “Great deal with Von Drehle. Now we can get all the people off the asteroid as well as a bunch of the product.” I nod, my mouth full at the moment with lunch. Not much of a lunch, granted, but a much appreciated one. I gesture with a fork for her to go on. Theo laughs. “You’re funny. Anyway… thanks for not arguing with me about the plan. OK?” I nod again, raise an eyebrow. “Well, if we can manage to set up redundant systems, maybe I won’t have to ride this thing all the way to Valhalla.” She grins, then grows more serious. “How is Von Drehle taking the death of his daughter? Were they close?” I shake my head no and finally I’m able to talk. “I don’t think close is the right word. He’s loyal to her; she was maybe the black sheep of a herd of black sheep. Or gray sheep.” “Very rich gray sheep.” “Yeah, but they still have feelings,” I muse. “No matter how much money you’re sitting on, it still has to be a hell of a thing to see your daughter looking like that. I’m glad Parker’s dead.” “Me too,” Theo agrees. “Hey, how come both her and Miss Bangkok had the red dragon tattoo? They didn’t look like family.” I start in on a cookie for dessert. “Oh, I guess that needs to be clarified. You know how you humans use the term clan or maybe how you use the word ‘mafia’? That’s more like it. Not really a gang, but more like a collection of likeminded people. The Red Dragon mafia, so to speak, likes a lot of violence. More than the run of the mill Rogues do, although even a plain old un-affiliated Rogue is a sadist at heart.” “You know the old joke, don’t you?” I grin. “No…” “The masochist says ‘beat me!’ and the sadist says ‘no!’” I chuckle. An oldie but a goldie. I offer Theo a cookie but she declines, laughing. “Oh, that’s bad. Really, really bad.” “Well, you two are having fun,” Major Leech says, sitting down across from us at the table, a cup of coffee in her hands. “Can I join in?” “I’m just telling her corny jokes. Like, ‘Knock, knock’.” Theo looks quizzically at the two of us. Leech steps up to the plate. “Who’s there?” 123

VIS “Princeton.” “Princeton who?” Theo’s head is going back and forth like she’s watching a tennis match, one eyebrow sardonically cocked up. “Princeton Churchill!!!” I guffaw, and Leech cracks up. We cackle for a moment and then I look over at Theo, who looks totally mystified. “You’ve never heard a knock-knock joke, Theo?” “Um,” She says slowly. “Um, no, actually. Those are funny?” We crack up again. “Yes, honey, they’re funny…” Leech says. “Especially when you’re tired.” “Yeah, have you gotten any rest, speaking of?” I look over at the Space Force commander. “You look washed out.” “No, I’m fine. And no, I’m not using stim pills yet.” She grins and drains the last of her coffee. “Although I’m getting tired of coffee. At least this coffee. When I make it, you can stand the spoon up in it. Good Navy Joe.” “Joe?” Theo asks. “Joe, java, coffee, cawfee, it all means the same thing. Coffee beans with something done to them, and hot water. You can add whatever else you want, but that’s the basic formula.” She gets up. “And remind me to tell you some off-color knock-knock jokes when I have time. I have quite a collection.” “I bet you do, Margaret Leech!” I stand up too. “But not as many as I do…” “Well, when all this is over, maybe you two can have a contest and see who can shock me first with your jokes…” Theo laughs. She stands up and hugs me lightly. I can tell she’s being gentle; my wounds are still covered with new skin bandages and they itch like hell. Plus, she has to remember all the time, I think, that she’s about ten times stronger than I am. All the vampires are. A tiny shudder runs through me but I hope she doesn’t notice; I cover it by hugging her back firmly. “Hey, hey, now…” Holly intervenes. “He’s off the market.” “It’s not official…” Theo laughs, putting her arm around my waist. “Not yet…” “Ladies…” I start. “He’s mine, woman!” Holly growls in a friendly way. “All mine! Paws off!” “Well, I’ll leave the scene before the hair flies,” Leech observes wittily and walks away, back to her work coordinating the transfer of personnel and mineral product to the various ships. The transports, both the Space Force ones and the Von Drehle ones, have been arriving for a couple of hours now, and we’re about half-way there on both loading people and product.

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VIS “Ladies, please…” I laugh. “Unless shirts are coming off, and there’s going to be hair pulling and screeching, that is…” “Pah! You’re not that hot!” Theo laughs merrily, the first time I’ve ever heard her do that. “Is he?” “Oh, I don’t know…” Holly says, and puts an arm around my waist too. “I don’t know… he’s not bad.” “True love,” Theo bats her eyes dramatically, unwinding her arm from around me. “So sweet.” “You sound so sarcastic!” I reply. “Never been in love?” The smile vanishes from her face in an instant. “I was, once. A long time ago… He was killed by a Rogue.” “Oh, jeeze, I’m sorry.” I really put my foot in it, I think. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t know.” “I don’t talk about it much at all,” she says. “It’s ok. It just popped me in the face a bit. I’m fine.” She tries to smile again, somewhat unsuccessfully. “I’m really very happy for you two. You’re a great team. Remember to invite me to the wedding; I love parties.” Theo turns on her heel and walks away quickly, her hands shoved into her pockets, shoulders tense. “I do have a talent for putting my foot in my mouth,” I say, looking down at the woman I want to marry. “Not many talents, but I do have that one, dammit.” “It’s ok. No one knew…” She looks after Theo, her eyes sad. “We’ve all had losses in the past. I think that just hit a nerve. It’s ok, really.” “So when’s the date?” I ask, more just to change the subject than to find out an actual date for the wedding. “Whenever we have time,” Holly smiles up at me. “How about now?” “Now?” “Sure, why not? We have a Space Force officer here.” She nods her chin towards Leech’s back, the dark blue uniform standing out in a group of miners and other Habitat personnel. They’re definitely not wearing anything uniform; if anything, they look like a bunch of high tech bikers or hippies. “Well…” Well, what? Were you expecting a big white church and flowers, big boy? A white dress on your bride, groomsmen and bridesmaids? An arch of swords? I laugh to myself. “Well… ok. Let’s do it.” And just like that, in a few moments, we’re married by the power invested in Major Margaret Leech, Space Force. Theo stands next to Holly, flanked by a beaming Helga; Cal and Stan stand next to me. The miners, engineers, Sally and her girls, and the Space Force personnel and Marines gather around, cheering us on. They do hush for a moment when Leech calls for the ritual moment of silence to remember those of us who aren’t here now, and those of us who will come in the future. But after that, once she’s said the magic words, and we’ve kissed, the cheers fill the room. It’s good to hear cheers instead of screams, yells of good luck instead of look out, I muse, holding Holly close. I 125

VIS can feel her leaning into me and it feels so good. I wish we had time to hold each other longer, but the needs of the Habitat, and our plan, override romance. We go back to work after enjoying a beer, courtesy of Stan and his bar. He promises champagne when we have more time and I promise to take him up on that. Holly kisses me again, almost shyly and then goes back to her team, her face red and happy, Helga at her side, booming away with her deep laughter. The work goes on, hour after hour, each of us knowing time is running shorter and shorter.

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VIS Chapter 33 “Archer?” Theo calls to me and gestures with her head toward the empty corridor. We're the last of the personnel evacuating the Habitat; one of the Space Force ships spotted then confirmed an incoming, large transport vessel about five minutes ago. I tell Major Leech to go ahead; she hesitates and then Theo calls again, insistent. What in the world does she want now, I wonder, and walk down the corridor. "So what's up?" She smiles at me, looking... regretful. I'm confused. "Sorry, Archer." "What?!" Before I can get another word out, I hear a whisper of wind... then nothing. Blackness. Blackness is nice. The snipers can't see you as well unless they have IR scopes. But if you wear your camo suit the way you're supposed to, Gyrene, you'll be fine... Blackness is drowning. I struggle to breath, knowing I'm ten feet under the surf, my pack dragging me down. The seawater's murky and I realize, through stinging eyes, that it's that way because of the blood. I shrug desperately out of my heavy pack but grip my rifle in a death's hold; if I die this way, they'll find the rifle still in my hands when I drift to shore... Grey's not so bad... reminds me of early morning runs on Parris Island. You at least had a breakfast to look forward to at the end... when I left home, breakfasts were few and far between. Daddy was drinking again, beating Momma and the rest of us when he wasn't passed out; Momma was smoking weed to cope, and the life at home sucked. I remember how tall and clean and well fed the Marine recruiter looked when she came to the high school, and remember thinking I could look that way. Grey hurts. There are little bright explosions of red in my eyes, and my head aches. I don't like grey any more. I want my head to stop hurting. Maybe if I hold it tightly... 'He's coming to," Holly's voice says. She sounds worried. I open my eyes to see where she is, and instantly wish I hadn't; the pain makes me cry out and squeeze my eyes shut tightly. "Archer, Archer, it's ok, you'll be ok..." Blackness isn't so bad after all. I wake up and see the grey bulkhead above me; part of my mind registers that I'm on a Space Force ship. Are we being transported again, inserted into a hot zone from orbit? I hated those. They always promise to give you up to date intel, but they always have old crap. And then you walk into a meat grinder with your troops. Military intelligence, what a joke. I chuckle out loud, softly, and my head rings. OK, won't do that again for a while. I carefully open one eye and when the light doesn't spear into my head like before, I hopefully open the other eye. OK, both eyes open; stomach not sure it's happy; all appendages apparently intact and functional.

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VIS "You lie there quiet now, honey," Her voice is familiar but it's not Holly... or Helga... or Margaret Leech... or Theo... My vision blurs a bit as I move my head to one side to see who it is, and it's Sally. She's dressed in scrubs, Space Force Medical green, but she's added a spangled little beret to go along with it. "Doc Marten said you shouldn't sit up." She carefully places a manicured hand on the center of my bare chest. "Where am I, Sally?" "Oh, honey, if you knew how many men have said that to me over the years," she laughs. Then she schools her face and tries to look more serious. "You're on some big mean Space Force ship. I can't remember the name, something about a Valley. Anyway, you're going to be fine, even though that crazy woman slapped your head about off." "Theo?" She nods. "Yes, and I'd bitch slap her right back if I could..." "Where's Theo now?" I take her hand from my chest and sit up suddenly, cold water running through my veins. "Where is she?" "Archer Hudson, you're not supposed to..." Sally tries to push me back onto the bed, managing to expose some impressive cleavage despite the scrubs, but fails as I hold her hands in mine, and manage to sit on the edge of the bed, swinging my feet out. "Where is she?" "She's dead," Holly says, sitting down next to the narrow medical bunk. "I'm sorry; I don't know any other way to tell you. She nearly killed you, but Stan and Leech brought you with them. Stan forced Leech to go ahead and leave Theo behind. Apparently they'd planned it." "The asteroid?" I rub my head gently. There's a very sensitive spot on the left side, just above my ear. "It's gone." Holly looks sad but relieved. "The miners and engineers were pretty damn good with their explosives. But Theo stayed behind to make sure; she also said she was rigging the Habitat to show multiple human life form readings, so the Rogues would think they were invading a live station. Stan hustled you and Leech onto the last shuttle out; we cloaked most of the ships and got to a safer distance. The other Space Force ships fought with the Rogues some, but then acted like they were high tailing it out of there..." "And then the Rogues landed on the Habitat?" Holly nods. "Theo let them get inside. Then she trigged the explosives. The asteroid broke into about five pieces; the Habitat underwent explosive decompression. The Space Force ships came back as fast as they'd left and finished off the Rogue ships that were still... viable."

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VIS "Hell's bells." I accept the robe she offers; it's always cold on Space Force ships. "Did Leech kick Stan out an air lock?" "She almost did. If Helga hadn't held her back, I think she might have managed to do Stan some harm." She looks at me. "But she recovered... she's back to the Major Leech who's firmly in command." "Good." I stand up. "Do I get some clothes?" "Maybe, Archer." Her face is very serious. "We had to do surgery. You'll probably be a little disoriented, maybe have some numbness or tingling on your right side. You might know the word you want to use, but can't get it out." "That bad, huh?" I look her over, noting her concern. Then I lean in and kiss her gently. I probably have killer breath, so I try not to make it too long or passionate. She kisses me back, her eyes widening a little in surprise. "I thought you always said my head was mostly empty except for a few rocks here and there?" "Well... yeah... I have said that," She smiles. "No, seriously. Theo wasn't aware that she almost killed you. There were more shrapnel pieces in that thick head of yours, and when she slapped you, it moved one of them. You almost bled out on me." Her voice trembles a little, then she regains her medical mode. "So... very light duty, Gunny. I mean it." "Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" I bark. Then regret being so forceful as my head twinges. "OK, really. Light duty. That does involve clothes, though, doesn't it?" "Why you got to ruin a good thing, honey?" Sally speaks up, grinning. She reaches behind me and pats my ass. "This robe looks fine on you..." "Um... thanks," I manage. I know my face has turned crimson and Holly actually laughs out loud. She also hands me some Space Force blues, trousers and shirt. Then she relents, seeing my raised eyebrows, and puts some briefs, socks and a pair of soft shoes on top of the pile. The two women laugh together as I huff and walk off to a screened-off area to dress.

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VIS Chapter 34 “Before you jump into things, Gunny, there’s something for you…” Leech hands me a small data disk. The blank silver of it shines in her hand briefly before I palm it. “Use my office.” She gestures toward her small compartment; I raise my eyebrows in surprise. That’s her inner sanctum. A mere gunnery sergeant in the Corps hardly ever sees the inside of a ship captain’s cabin unless he or she is on the carpet for something big. She grins tiredly at me. “Go on, use it. And no, you’re not on report!” I sit down at the Major’s desk, looking over the nice faux wood desk; looks almost like the real thing. And I’m old enough to remember real wood desks. I place the data disk in a reader and a file opens on the large vidscreen. I tap it lightly and the file opens; it’s a vid of Theo. She smiles at me. My head twinges. “Hope you’re not too pissed off at me for whacking you on the head. I figured it was thick enough, you’d be fine. It was the only damn way I could manage to stay on the Habitat. And yes, I needed to.” The smile fades from her face and she looks into the camera earnestly. “I need to explain some things to you, and maybe you can explain them to others. You guys really need to know about us, the Enforcers, within the Alliance, and I didn’t have enough time to sit down and talk with you about it. Until now.” She looks away from the camera and then back. “Some of what I say is painful for me to say; some of it might shock you. But if we’re going to figure out a way to defeat the Rogues, we need to understand each other. I’ve tried very hard over the years to understand humans, but really… I didn’t spend a lot of time around humans.” An image opens. It’s a very young Theo, grinning at the camera. She must be about four or five, I guess. Theo’s voice continues. “I was raised in a crèche—a specialized daycare, I guess you could call it. I never knew my biological parents. We had Teachers. We learned to revere them for their skills and knowledge, but never really loved them. I was a pretty happy little kid, too.” A new image appears. “I was about 14 when this photo was taken. I had been tested, as we all were in the crèche, and they decided I’d be an Enforcer. My reflexes were faster than many of the others, and I was a little smarter, too. So they sent me to a school. At 14, I began learning how to identify and kill Rogues, and Servants if I had to. Kinda early, in my opinion, but it seems to have worked out ok. I’ve survived up until now. Not bad.” More images flash onto the vidscreen, replacing the ones that were there. Graduation photos, a picture of Theo standing near the Parthenon in Greece, one of her in Paris by the Seine. She looks more serious, less happy, older and somehow harder. “I didn’t really like killing but I was very good at it, and I felt like I was protecting people. People who might try to kill me themselves if they found out what I was, but still… it seemed like a good idea. I learned not to make too many friends, though. The life expectancy of an Enforcer isn’t very good. You’re lucky if you survive a hundred years or so…” “I never thought I’d live very long. You tend to find out pretty quickly. Being a Marine veteran, Archer, I’m sure you understand. A lot of the time, the replacements—the young ones—are the first 130

VIS to fall in a firefight. It doesn’t seem very fair. But that’s life.” She pauses, then continues. “I made the mistake of falling in love with a fellow Enforcer. I mentioned him to you earlier. We were hoping to retire, to become Teachers at a crèche, but that didn’t happen.” “I always wanted to understand humans. You live so intensely, but not for as long as we do. Your sense of humor is different. You cope with things differently. Most of you wouldn’t believe me if I just sat you down and explained the Alliance and the Rogues to you—vampires are mythological creatures to you, something you see in the movies. But we’re real, and the threat to you all is so real. It’s so fucking real. You just don’t understand… or at least you didn’t, until now. Now… you’re some of the very few humans who know about us, who know about the Rogues and who know… at least on some level, what the dangers are.” Theo runs a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry you didn’t understand why it was important for me to stay here on the Habitat and make damn sure the Rogues walked into this ambush. You’re all about saving human lives, Archer, and I’m all about taking the lives of Rogues. You’re good, as a Marine; you’ve been trained to kill, but your basic instinct is to save the people around you. My basic instinct is to hunt. I hunt fellow vampires, in a war you didn’t know about but were living in anyway.” She sounds so sad. “I’m sorry. I wish I had more time to spend with you. I’ve valued even our arguments. I’ve really enjoyed our short friendship, if I may call you that. I hope I can. I really cared about you, and Holly, and Muhammad, and Cal… you’re good people. Stan understands what I’m doing, and why, since he was raised the same way I was, to a point. He’s not an Enforcer, he’s really more of an observer, but he’ll stand by you when the shit hits the fan. You can trust him.” She looks directly into the screen. “You can. I know you had trouble trusting me, but I’m sorry, I was operating under the rules we’re used to. We don’t let the humans know exactly what we’re doing, since humans are so easily manipulated by the Rogues. We, as a point of principle, don’t do it that much, really.” She grins. “Although I did have fun with you at first. Archer, you’re a great guy and I’m sorry if you have a hell of a headache. Forgive me. Remember me when you have time, when this is all over and you and Holly are sitting somewhere quiet.” Theo sits up straighter in the chair. “OK, I’m going to sign off now. I hope that maybe this helped you understand me a little more… maybe it’ll help you work with the next Enforcer they send. And they will be sending you help. I’m glad Von Drehle showed up with his extra ships. He’s a good man, too, Archer, so work with him. He’s known about the Alliance now for years. He always seems to know a lot about many things… interesting guy. Anyway… congratulations on the marriage; congratulations on surviving the second wave of Rogues, and… well…” Theo clears her throat a little, tears glinting in her eyes. “Goodbye, Archer Hudson. Fare well.” The screen goes blank. Damn, why do the good ones leave us too soon?

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VIS Chapter 35 I look around the room. I’m surrounded by Space Force officers in dark blue uniforms, and sprinkled amongst them are a few civilians. Holly’s there, as is Stan; Cal sits off to one side, looking very nervous and wide-eyed. Von Drehle sits quietly near the faux window; it shows the star field we’re facing. My coffee steams fragrantly—Leech has the best coffee of any Space Force captain I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something—and I take a long sip, considering what this meeting’s about. Leech had called in the big guns, so to speak. She’d sent out carefully shielded messages, inviting certain Space Force members and some civilian pukes to meet us out in the Oort Belt. Close enough to Earthside to get there relatively quickly; far enough away to be hopefully outside the surveillance of the Rogues and their Servants. Von Drehle did the same thing, basically, and we’re now having a meeting to decide on the next course of action. Major Leech, in her high-collared blue uniform, hair pulled tightly back in a bun on the back of her head, clears her throat and calls the meeting to order. The various people who’ve been talking with their neighbors or looking at the screens of their personal comp sets settle down, and everyone looks at her (and me, I notice) expectantly. Why the hell are they looking that way at me? I’m just a retired gunnery sergeant from the Corps, I grumble to myself. I was a perfectly happy, somewhat bored Sheriff on a mining Habitat before the Twilight Zone found me. “Thank you, everyone, for making the effort to be here. We felt it was time to meet, face-to-face, and talk about the recent developments, both here in the Solar area, and on Earthside.” Leech looks around the large table. “I’m glad to see a good mixture of civilian and military skill sets here. We need both.” “What you’ve heard is probably hard to believe, unless you’ve been in ‘the know’ for a while, as some of us have,” she continues, nodding slightly at Von Drehle, who smiles faintly and nods back. “But I can guarantee you that what’s happening is real and very dangerous.” An aide discretely placed over on one side of the room sends commands to a comp set and a three-D representation of the Solar area—the mining platforms, the refineries, the colonies on the moons and three planets, and our home Earth show up over the table top. Ships are marked by color codes and their ship ID numbers. Leech reaches out and touches the representation of where the Habitat used to be. “This was a large asteroid, the only known—so far—repository of the ultra-dense minerals that everyone’s been clamoring about for fuel cells. We destroyed it to stop the Rogues from obtaining the Habitat and the minerals.” There’s a small gasp throughout the room, which is damn surprising, given the experience levels of the people at the table. But then again, when you destroy a Company Habitat and the asteroid it’s mining, that’s pretty impressive too. The Major taps Earth and it enlarges. Various spots on it are highlighted in red. “These are areas Earthside where large groups of Rogues and their Servants took over launch areas, and have launched numerous transports out of Earth orbit. There were quite a few casualties when they took over the sites, especially the ones in former Russia and in former China.”

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VIS “They also attacked civilian launch areas,” Von Drehle says quietly. “It wasn’t publicized as much as the attacks on the Space Force areas. But the attacks were well-planned, simultaneous, organized, and ferocious.” “Yes, you’re right, Mr. Von Drehle. We’ve been tracking the transports and the other ships the Rogues commandeered. They’re heading out for various outposts and colonies…” Leech taps places on the 3-D map, shrinking the Earth back to its original smaller shape and highlighting the outposts and planetary colonies. “Apparently, they’re heading to the furthest ones out, colony-wise or outpost-wise. From the intel we’ve gathered Earthside, thanks to our folks and the Von Drehle connections, we know they’re heavily armed and well-stocked. They just don’t have the fuel they wanted so badly.” “Why not just let them go?” Cal speaks up suddenly and everyone turns to him in surprise. “Well, not only are they basically serial killers on steroids, so to speak, they’re also breaking numerous laws. One of the things we do is enforce laws for the Union of Corporations, and most of them are just a tad upset that quite a few of their ships have been stolen.” Leech looks steadily at Cal, then at the rest of us. “So… just letting them go is an option, but not one I think is very viable. It’s like saying, ‘Gee, thanks for killing my family, and stealing the car, you just go ahead and run along now. See ya!’” “We’re also very involved in stopping this migration or exodus or whatever it is,” Stan says, standing up. “I’m the leading Alliance representative here, and we’re very committed to stopping the killing sprees and the escapes. For centuries now, we’ve kept a lid on things and tried to control the Rogues as much as we could. But they’ve been breeding faster than we knew, and arming themselves quite rapidly as well. So… we have to stop them. If they have their way, either humans will become walking dinners for them, or Servants. Maybe both. We actually care about human life, and want to protect you from the danger that the Rogues are.” Von Drehle stands up too. “I’m here for an entirely personal reason. A Rogue tortured and killed my daughter. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but I think it’s a dish best served when you’re best able to do so…” The white in his hair is limned by the lights as he looks from person to person. “You may all have your own reasons for fighting the Rogues; legal ones, philosophical or political ones… but mine is personal. And I’m not stopping until I stop them. Dead.” Cal rises to his feet. “Hasn’t there been enough killing? Why not just let them go and be done with it? Hunt the ones on Earth if you need to, but…” “They’re going to the outposts and the colonies as we speak. And when they get there, they’ll start killing. Torturing and killing. They enjoy it; it’s not just to feed,” Stan says with disgust in his voice. “They have the ability to be like me, to use the blood analogue and not feed on humans. They have the choice, and they’ve chosen… sadism. They’d fuck you, make you scream and beg for death, and then just keep you alive to enjoy your pain. Then they’d slowly drain your blood. They’ll do that with any human they find, Cal.”

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VIS “None of us really enjoys killing,” I nod at Stan and Cal, then the rest of the table. “Some of us have been very well trained in how to kill, but the sane ones among us don’t enjoy it. It’s something we have to do, given a certain situation. Cal, this is one of those times. We’re going to have to do some serious fighting, as we already have, but more of it. These guys aren’t going to be easy to stop, and I’m tired of them running around and killing people left and right. It has to stop. We can’t just wave goodbye to them.” “Archer’s right,” Holly speaks up for the first time. “As a doctor, I took an oath to ‘first do no harm’. But what I’ve seen these creatures do to human beings… it’s awful. And we have to stop them before they do it to the colonists and the people in the outposts!” Cal sighs and nods. “I just hoped…” Leech nods at her assistant and the 3-D display goes away. “That’s ok. We all hope that the last war we were in is really going to be the last one, but it never seems to work that way, does it? We’re here to come up with a strategy on how to stop the Rogues from invading the colonies and the outposts. However, we’re basically having to act on our own here, since we’re sure that many of the Corporations have become seriously compromised by the Rogues and their Servants.” “So we’re extra-legal?” One of the civilians asks, surprise in her voice. “No…” Leech stares her down. “We’re going to follow the letter of the law, and just consider that we’re having communication difficulties with the folks back Earthside. We’re within our legal bounds to search down and capture or kill the Rogues. They’re acting right now as renegades or pirates, and we’re legally able to stop them, by any means necessary.” “And personally, I’m not so concerned about legalities,” Claudius Von Drehle says. “I’m too old, and too rich. I’m after revenge, but we’re all on the same page here. We need to stop the Rogues, and stop them soon. So I’ll support you however I can, and however my Corporation can.” Everyone sits and stares at each other for a long moment. This is some serious shit, I think, and we’re neck deep in it! “Ok, now that we’re a lynch mob armed with Space Force cruisers with lasers and pulse weapons,” I say, “instead of pitchforks and torches… what’s next?” The room cracks up, the tension lightening instantly. Holly rolls her eyes at me and I flutter mine back at her. “Seriously… I’m not a strategy guy, I’m more a tactics guy. What do you want me to do?” Major Leech finishes chuckling, her eyes alight. “You have a way, Gunny… ok. From a command point of view, are you all agreed that we’ll use the military chain of command, based on seniority of service?” Everyone nods; no hesitation there, which is good. Last thing we need is a bunch of argument over who’s on first and what’s on second. Leech continues. “OK. Then I’m in command of this task force, augmented considerably by the civilian ships. Those captains are hereby commissioned in the Space Force Reserve as ship captains, and their ships will obey the Uniform Code of Military Justice from here on out.”

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VIS Von Drehle frowns a little at that; Leech and I notice, as does Stan, but Leech goes on. “We have enough command staff here to break into task groups. I want reports in twenty minutes from each staff group—personnel, supply, weapons, security, medical, and training…” Apparently she’s already thought ahead on this one, because as she names off each staff group, a person from around the table stands up and waves… or makes some acknowledgment of their role. “People, the clock’s running. The Rogues are on their way to various locations, and we need to get organized and get there first. They just don’t know we’re coming, so that’s a plus on our side. Gunny, come see me for a minute. The rest of you, you’ll be chosen for a staff group by the staff officer of that group. Twenty minutes, people.”

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VIS Chapter 36 “So what’s up, Major?” I stretch my arms gently above my head; the new skin bandages are almost ready to come off, but not quite. Odd aches and pains tend to catch me in surprise, so I’m moving a little more slowly than I usually do. Just the wear and tear of the last few days has begun to wear me out; I could use a nice long break. With Holly. “Gunny, I have a task for you…” Leech takes me by the arm (gently) and guides me over to one side of the room. It’s a little crowded and loud in there now, with all the staff groups forming and talking. “Are you up to some work?” “Hell, yeah.” She grins. “Thought so. OK—this is the plan. We have a bunch of Space Force kids who’ve never gotten any closer to physical combat than what they experienced in a day or two at boot camp. We’ve also got a bunch of civilians. They may or may have military training; I have no idea. We need someone who can whip them into a fighting force fast. Sound fun?” “Oh, great. So I get to play nursemaid to a bunch of weenies?” I put my hands on my hips. “Major, I can better help other ways…” “This is the best way to put your main skills to use.” The grin fades from her face. “We’re going to have casualties, Archer, and these kids need someone who can show them the sharp end of a spear and how to not end up on it. I know you can do it. I know you can do a lot of things, but this is something I need help with.” I sigh. “OK. Mission accepted. How many hours do I get?” “Glad you didn’t say ‘days’ or I’d have laughed your ass out of the room,” Leech replies. “Hours, maybe. How about ten, twelve hours as we get the fleet closer to the outposts and the colonies?” Gee, twelve hours, maybe, to whip a bunch of Space Force techies and a bunch of civilians into some sort of fighting force? Sure, ok. And I’m Santa Claus, too. Ho, ho, ho. “Twelve, huh?” I hold her eyes with mine. “Well, if we start now, maybe I can show them how to reload a pulse rifle without dropping the cartridges.” “Good, that’ll at least give them a chance. I know our ships will be ok going head-to-head with the ships the Rogues got, but it’s the fighting on the stations and the colonies I’m worried about.” Someone touches her sleeve and she frowns, briefly, turning away. She looks back at me. “Any questions? The physical fitness area on this ship is yours, any weapons you want… I’d suggest shifts.” “Got it.” I nod. “Consider it done, Major.” “Thanks, Gunny.” She turns away to answer other questions—do the colonists know what’s coming, where will we get resupplied, how many meals should be prepared for the increased crew sizes, do the civilian ships get armed and how—and I hurry down the corridor to the PT area. Each ship in the 136

VIS Space Force has one, since they realized years ago that people need something to do to burn off all that good Navy chow on long voyages. Workout areas are also good ways to work ugly edges off emotionally in a crew, as good captains know and sergeants appreciate. Someone feels like fighting? Fine. Have them do pushups until they puke, and the urge to poke someone in the eye tends to go down dramatically. Good old remedial PT. Cal hurries down the corridor after me, calling to me. “Archer? Archer?” “Yes?” I stop and wait for him to catch up. “Major Leech told me I could help you.” “Excellent. A lot of these weenies… I mean, wonderful recruits… will be needing some major work on balancing, moving around in landing suits… you can really help me out.” I grin at him. “And if they’re not too tired, or get too hyper, you can teach them the Charleston or something.” “Sounds like a plan to me!” We trot down the corridor together as I go over in my head what I need to cover with these men and women. Basic military order—the structure of a squad, a platoon, a company—basic hand and verbal signals. Basic—hell, everything’s basic. How to use a pulse rifle. How to use our air rifles and their ‘cocktails’. How to do first aid, how to apply a tourniquet. How not to run away when every fiber in your body is telling you to high tail it out of there. In twelve hours. Sure, we’ll have time for the Charleston and the Foxtrot, too. The PT area’s quite large; a lot larger than the ones I remember from my time on board a Space Force ship. Of course, that was a few years and engines ago; these ships are much more efficient and powerful. There are already a few Space Force people there, and I immediately corral them. “OK, listen up. I’m Gunny Hudson, and you’re my trainers. We’re going to be covered up in people in a few minutes, and you’re the lucky first ones here. So you’re it. You take your orders from me, and from Cal here. He’s my second in command.” I wonder if I should give him a rank, and then keep talking. Time for that later. “People, move the exercise equipment to the bulkheads; cover it up if it’s got a cover. Get some mats spread out on the deck. You and you,” I point to two women standing off by themselves, talking. “Pay attention. You’ll have time to gossip on our way down thru the atmosphere when we land on the first colony.” “Sir, yes, sir,” One stammers, her face getting red. “Don’t call me sir, I work for a living,” I growl, my voice deepening and roughening. “Gunnery Sergeant or Sergeant is fine.” They nod. “Now, you two are in charge of the medical and water supplies for the trainees. We’ll need both. This is gonna be a crash course in more ways than one. The more you sweat during training, the less you’ll bleed when it’s not training.” The group—good Space Force kids, really, just techs—quickly works on their tasks and soon mats are spread out on the deck. People have started filing in; I have Cal organize them into groups of five, then ten. May as well get them used to small units. We’re not a numerous people, I remember a 137

VIS Stirling quote, and no one likes us… We get the area set up; the Marines assigned to the cruiser show up with two carts full of air rifles and pulse weapons. I spot a few K-bars in there too, and grin. Nothing like a little cold steel to impress one’s enemy at close quarters. “Cal, you work with those three groups over there… get them used to balancing and moving in the landing suits.” I gesture toward a pile of the silvery-gray suits in a corner, waiting to be put on. “It’s an acquired taste.” He grins and hurries over there, waving his thirty or so personnel to follow him. He’ll work out well. I turn to my group. “We’re going to learn about weapons first. Then first aid.” I call the Marines over. “Any of you been DIs or Assistant DIs before? Parris Island? San Diego?” “Um, yes, sir,” One of them, a thin blonde woman speaks up. “San Diego, two years Assistant DI, three years ago, before this rotation.” “I’m a retired but newly activated Gunnery Sergeant, so you know what to call me now. And that sounds great. You just became the head DI here. Organize your other Marines into a training cadre real quick. We have to teach these techno-nerds and civilian pukes how not to shoot each other, but how to hopefully to shoot some of the Rogues instead.” “Aye, aye, Gunny!” The woman barks. She instantly assumes the aggressive stance of a drill instructor in the Corps; the transition’s amazing. “All right, you buzzard baits! Listen up, I’m Sergeant Sylvester and I’m your worst nightmare! Line up here! Move, move!” The other Marines pick up on her cues and begin barking at the “recruits”. I step back and let them do their thing, while I check out the weapons we have for training these poor kids. Soon, the Space Force Navy personnel and the civilians are lined up, looking rather worried, but behaving themselves admirably. Sort of at attention, most of them, but that’s a small detail. If they survive the next few hours, maybe we can get them lined up better. “Good job, Senior Drill Instructor.” “Thank you, Gunnery Sergeant!” She looks them over calculatingly. “Not too bad. Need work.” “That’s what we’re here for…” I toss her a pulse weapon. “Explain the very, very basics of this thing, and how not to shoot your own leg off. Then if they can figure that out, we’ll work on their firing stances. Snapping in drills. The ones who catch on faster, get them working with the air rifles; those things’re a little more complex.” “Aye, aye, Gunnery Sergeant!” She flicks the weapon out of the air with practiced ease, snapping open the breech and checking to see if it’s loaded. She slams it shut and turns to face her troops. I notice the happy glint in her eyes and in the eyes of her fellow Marines and know they’re enjoying themselves. I walk over to check on Cal and his group, who’re stumbling around, getting used to the landing suits and their exo-features. It’s pretty funny. I lean against a bulkhead and laugh. Reminds me of old times. Chapter 37 138

VIS The newly minted recruits look a little raggedy-ass, but hey, this whole thing is on a shoestring of hope. So it’s not so bad. At least maybe they won’t shoot themselves; they stand a fairly good chance of nailing a Rogue or two, at least. “So how goes it, Senior Drill Instructor? They ready for the big time?” I ask the young woman Marine who’s been training the grab-bag of personnel we have available. She coughs to cover her initial response, which, knowing Marines, was most likely an expletive. “Ah, Gunnery Sergeant, um, they’re as ready as they’ll ever be.” “That’s as much as I want to hear,” I laugh. “I know they’re not Devil Dogs, but at least they know their way around a couple of weapon systems and the suits.” “They certainly tried hard,” Cal pipes up, wiping sweat from his face with a towel. “You have to give them that!” The recruits have finished their rudimentary training, policed up the area, and are now standing mostly at attention or a reasonable facsimile thereof, waiting for deployment. Deployment… hell, most of these kids are just green techs, more suited to typing on keyboards or aiming lasers with their fingers on a vid screen than soldiers, by a long shot. I hope our casualties aren’t… bad. I swallow hard, the grin leaving my face. I nod to Cal and the Senior Drill Instructor, then walk to the front of the formation. I step up on a crate that’s been helpfully left behind for just that purpose. So now what do I do? I wonder. Quote Shakespeare at them? “All right, listen up.” I think all Marine Gunnys start their speeches that way. “OK. I’m going to just lay it out for all of you. You’ve received the very basic training we have time for. That should help keep you alive. What will help, believe it or not, is your thinking. Keep thinking, no matter how bad things get. Keep an eye on your buddy. There’s a reason we paired you guys up and it’s not so you can be chummy overnight. It’s to keep each other alive. Hear me?” “Sergeant, yes, sergeant!” They bellow with a will. “We’re going to land at some of the colonies and outposts, find these sons-of-bitches and kill them. How does that sound?” “Uuu-rah! Uuu-rah! Uuu-rah!” At least they’ve learned that much, I chuckle to myself. “All right. You may not have the eagle and globe like Marines get at the end of their basic training, but you have our admiration and you have the right to call yourselves… whatever you want. You come up with a name, nothing too obscene so we can say it to the nice people, and then we’ll go from there. Get your gear together, get some chow, follow your platoon leaders. Once you get in the landing craft, try to get some sleep. It may be a long time before you get another chance.” I look them over slowly, looking at each face in turn. I’ll remember them; I always do. “You’ve done a good job; hang in there, and we’ll kick some Rogue butt. I’m proud of you techno-weenies. Now

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VIS get the lead out of your asses and get moving!” I add the roar I’ve learned in the Corps to the last sentence, to overcome the sentiment… and they scramble for their gear and weapons. “They do sound a little like Jarheads,” I tell the drill instructors. “Good job, all three of you. Excellent, in fact.” “Thanks, Gunny,” the senior Marine among them says. “Least we could do…” They shoulder their gear and walk behind the scurrying kids, their tread heavy on the deck. I watch them leave, and suddenly feel very old and very tired. I sit down on the crate and rub my head. “You ok, Archer?” Cal walks over with some water. “Have some, you’ve been working damn hard!” “So have you!” I take the water and quickly drink it down. Man, that feels good. Now for some chow and maybe some time with Holly… “General Quarters! General Quarters! This is no drill. General Quarters!” The voice booms out throughout the ship, following by the shrill clanging of the ship’s alarm system. I toss the empty bottle of water to the deck and grab Cal’s arm, dragging him with me as I head toward the Command Center. Don’t know exactly where my General Quarters station is supposed to be—must have missed that briefing—but the Command Center seems to be the best bet. We race down the corridors, flattening ourselves against the bulkheads as Space Force personnel race very purposefully past us. They’re well drilled and calm but damn fast too. Best to stay the hell out of their way. The Command Center is a quiet hub of activity. Major Leech, her hair undone and a bathrobe covering her tall frame, is in her seat at the bridge, watching the work of her staff and occasionally snapping a brief order. Other than that, the Center’s fairly silent, with the techs and their headsets plugged into the main comp, and officers standing nearby, ready to intervene and problem-solve as needed. Leech whispers an order into her throat mike and one bulkhead turns from gray Navy color to a screen showing the star field and the ships around us. Ours are outlined in blue, of course; the incoming Rogue ships are in red. Everything looks very calm but every so often, one of the Rogue ships shows a flash on its shields as our pulse weapons rake the attacking ships. The shields shimmer as they try to dissipate the pulse energy, but finally one of the Rogue ships disintegrates in a flash of gold and ruby and silver. It looks actually pretty from this distance, I think to myself, if you don’t think about the bodies rupturing in the sudden vacuum. If you don’t think about the crystals of blood that form on the bulkheads… takes forever to clean that shit off, and the ship always smells afterwards, no matter how much you clean it. There’s always a faint smell… I look away, swallowing hard. Our ship jolts once, twice, and the screens flicker as the comps try to regulate the power. “Penetration, decks four and five,” a technician announces calmly, as she clings to her reclining seat with both hands. The ship finishes shuddering. “Controlled now. No damage to weapons; hull integrity intact except for the two decks affected.” “Shields are now back fully on line,” another tech says quietly. “Full power. No degradation.” 140

VIS Leech wraps the fuzzy bathrobe around her more tightly. “Casualties?” “Checking now.” An officer leans over a comp set, looking into a shielded vid screen. “Fourteen missing; three dead, in Engineering. No other casualties; Engineering says they’re fine.” “Get the bastard that got us, then!” Leech grinds out. “Now!” Our ship’s been moving in concert with the other Space Force vessels, in a choreographed, practiced set of maneuvers. I grab onto the back of Leech’s chair and motion with my head for Cal to do the same, with another tech’s chair. Things can get bumpy, even with the ship trying to make up for sudden movements. Leech barely notices me, but does manage to nod briefly, her eyes flickering over my face then back to her vid screens. Missing: that means they’re either in small pieces and can’t be identified, or they’re out there, floating in the darkness by our ship. Dead: that means they’re actually identifiable remains, with enough features to know. I’m not sure which is worse. You spend months and years working with people, closer to them than some of your own flesh and blood, and then in an instant, they’re gone. You survived, this time, but who knows what the next shot from an attacking ship will bring? You can’t spend time thinking about it, not then—you’re too busy doing whatever task you’ve been assigned. You think about it later, in the down times, in the quiet hours when most people try to sleep. Or you think about it in the brief leaves you get, when you realize you’re able to do things they’ll never be able to do again. Somehow, you deal with it. If you can’t, you won’t survive. Another Rogue ship flashes into pieces. More bodies—Rogue and Servant alike—are joining those of our crew, and the crews of other Space Force ships. Reports come in from other cruisers, noting hits on the enemy as well as damage to our own forces. Casualties; weapons status; shield power… as one ship, the S.S. Seward, is broadcasting a damage report, the transmission is suddenly silenced and then our ship is hugely jolted—up, down, sideways—the large vidscreen goes blank for a moment, shielding has gone up. Must be a reactor breech… my skin crawls. Were we too close? Did our shields hold? Or have the chances of me having a kid gone from almost nil to absolutely no way? Are we going to die from rad sickness? I shudder. The crew on our ship, though, stays calm as little clams, their attention focused on their ship, their needs. Their survival. “Report, status report. Now!” Major Leech snaps, her voice shattering the quiet. “Shields intact, no radiation in the ship. Apparent reactor breech from the Seward.” “No casualties.” “Engineering reports all green…” “Weapons fine.” Leech touches the screen in front of her, acknowledging each reply. “Any escape pods from the Seward?”

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VIS “No, ma’am. Nothing.” The chief manning the radar station shakes her head no. “No pods, just debris.” “How many Rogues are we still looking at, Chief?” Leech taps her fingers impatiently on the arm of her faux leather chair. The large vid screen comes back up almost as soon as the words come out of her mouth and the chief counts quickly, checking her radar display to make sure. “Two, ma’am. One we destroyed, one was destroyed by the S. S. Puller, and one was destroyed by the Seward when she went critical. That leaves two, and they’re trying to high tail it out of here.” “Weapons,” Leech intones. “Weapons, ready,” comes the reply instantly. “Use the Long Lance system, and destroy those two ships. My command. Three, two… one.” The vid screen flickers then blanks out again briefly, the sensors overloaded by the explosions. Then it comes back on line, and all we see where the two Rogue ships had been is… nothing. Faint flickers of energy spreading out like a ghostly fire; I hear radiation sensors clicking and making small sounds, but nothing’s clanging, so I relax my grip a little on the back of the chair. “What the hell was that?” I whisper. “New weapon systems… the Long Lance is something the boffins back at the Naval Weapons Lab have been working on for quite a while. We were supposed to test them, before all this mess happened. In fact, that’s what our little squadron was set up for. Go blast some small asteroids, see if the things worked the way they were advertised. I guess they do.” Leech stands up and I notice for the first time that her fluffy bathrobe is pink with a light blue stripe in it. I look from it to her face, and meet sternness. I smile slowly, raising one eyebrow. “Pink?” “It’s mine, and I was in the shower. Just thank your God that I didn’t come out here buck naked. I almost did, but happened to have the bathrobe on when GQ sounded.” Her eyes lighten a little. “Now, go see if Holly needs any help. A Gyrene just loafing around my bridge makes me itch.” “Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” I smile at her and then head towards Medical to find Holly. And maybe something to eat, my stomach reminds me; Cal follows. He’s probably hungry too.

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VIS Chapter 38 “How’re you doing, honey?” I whisper into Holly’s hair as I sidle up behind her in my best stealth mode. She jumps, turns and whacks the hell out of my arms (I manage to get them up in selfdefense). “Dammit!” “I wuv oo too,” I croon, backing away and laughing. She growls at me, then grins. “You scared the crap out of me, Archer Hudson!” “Hopefully not literally,” I laugh. “That would be… unfortunate.” “Yeah, because then I’d have to wring your neck after I changed my scrubs…” Holly laughs with me then leans in and hugs me long and hard. “I’ve missed you, you big lug.” I rest my chin on the top of her head, squeeze her hard in my arms. “I’ve missed you too. We haven’t had much time for a honeymoon…” “You can’t have sex on your mind at a time like this… oh, wait, you’re a guy, of course you can,” my wife reaches behind her and expertly smacks my exploring left hand away from her fanny. “Sorry, no can do. Not right now, anyway.” “Just checking for interest…” I begin but halt half-way through the sentence with a yawn. “Really…” She takes my arm and leads me over to one of the couches. “You need rest, not horizontal R&R.” “Aw, honey…” I’m asleep almost as soon as my head hits the fairly flat pillow. I wake to find the room darkened—not black, but lights lowered to a comfortable level for sleeping—and that someone thoughtfully covered me with a nice blanket. The Space Force logo is on it, of course, and it’s dark blue with gold edges, but it’s not a bad blanket. I yawn, stretch luxuriously and then slowly get up. I stretch again and walk out of the compartment, my stomach leading me towards the smell of hot rations and coffee. “Finally decide to join us, Sarge?” Cal says, his voice slightly muffled as he snarfs down a waffle. “We saved you a little bit…” “You damn well better have, you young pup!” I sit down at the metal table and serve myself. Holly brings me a steaming mug of coffee, good, thick Space Force coffee, and I sigh in contentment. She grins at me and runs a hand through my short hair. “Hey, babe.” “Hey, babe, yourself…”Holly smiles. “Eat up. Margaret wants us at the Command Center soon. I told her you were sleeping and got quite the earful… before she fell asleep herself. Now that you two are hopefully more conscious and aware, we need to meet and go over some things.” I nod. “How were the casualties?” 143

VIS “Not bad. You know the drill in space warfare—either you’re fine or you’re very dead. Not much in between. I have no wounded to work with, really. We’ve given the dead their formal burial at space, and the decks are being rehabbed.” She drinks some of her own coffee and I notice how tired she looks. “Did you manage to get any sleep, either?” “Yes,” she sighs. “Cal made me take a nap.” “He did?” I look over at Cal. “You impress me. How did you manage it, get Heidi to sit on top of her while you tied her to the bed?” “Nah… I just gave her a massage.” He smiles at me, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “A massage…” I look from one to the other. “Um, anything you need to tell your dear husband?” “Me? No… why would I have anything I need to tell you?” Holly says coyly from behind her coffee cup. “Me? It was just an innocent massage, really…” “Uh-huh. I’m going to keep my eye on you two…” I reply. We all three crack up and I finish up my breakfast quickly. You learn to chow down fast in the Corps—eat and run. But I feel full for the first time in what seems like days—actually has been days—and thank Cal and Holly for saving me some of the breakfast. “Man, that hit the spot. Thanks!” “Just be glad you woke up before Heidi did…” Cal nods over at one of the chairs behind a desk, where the tall, muscular form of Heidi is sprawled. As we look over at her, a snore escapes from her open mouth. “I think she would’ve eaten everything…” “Well, she works hard.” Holly sounds a little defensive. She gets up and puts a blanket on top of the sleeping Amazon. “She really does and she has a heart of gold to boot. So there.” “Well, leave her a note or something, so we can go to this meeting.” I stand up, stretch again— noting that Holly or someone has removed the new skin bandages, finally—and then straighten my shirt and pants. “Let’s get a move on… I want to find out if there are more Rogue ships around.” ** “Greetings, Sergeant Sleepy-Head,” Leech barks as we enter the Command Center. “Good shift to you, Major Sleepy-Butt,” I reply in the deepest voice I have. Her mouth drops open for a brief second or two, and I hear a snicker go around the quiet room. Then she glares around her; everyone looks very busy and no one meets her glance. “Come into my office, the three of you,” she commands, leading the way. No pink bathrobe now, I notice; full dark blue, high collared uniform with gold piping. Her major’s leaves sparkle on her shoulders and the Space Force insignia glints on her collar. She takes us into her office, where Von Drehle and Stan are waiting. Von Drehle is sipping a glass of wine, I see, but Stan’s sitting quietly at

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VIS Leech’s desk, staring off into the middle distance. He pulls himself back to the present with an effort and we all sit down near him by the desk. “So… that was a good move the Rogues did, strategically… trying to take us out before we got to the outposts.” Stan looks at us. “We have to start thinking more strategically, not tactically, now.” “Yeah,” I agree. “But that’s what you brainy types are for. Me, I think tactics.” “Oh, hell, don’t give me that malarkey,” Margaret Leech says in a friendly way. “I know you, and all sergeants. You like saying tactics but then when you all get together and yak amongst yourselves, you’re big strategy guys. It pays to be, in your line of work.” I sit back in my chair. “But those are mostly b.s. sessions, not real strategy think tanks. Over a few beers at the NCO club, it’s always amazing how many of the world’s problems can be solved by a handful of sergeants.” “Then we need a huge b.s. session right now. Got wine… don’t have any beer, but I can have a steward bring some.” Leech gestures at a cabinet on the bulkhead, and Von Drehle nods toward her. “Good vintage, too…” “Really, guys, what are we going to do?” Holly speaks up, sounding worried. “We were lucky to have you arrive when you did; we were lucky to fight them off with the surprise weapons… but how lucky can we stay, for God’s sake?” “That’s just it,” Von Drehle agrees. “Stan’s right. We have to think long term here. We’ve managed okay so far, and we’ve been lucky. That can’t hold.” “So what are our options?” I look around the small group. “What can we really do?” “We can hunt down and kill every Rogue we can,” Von Drehle says with ice in his voice. A certain fire has been burning in his eyes, and it worries me. I know the look of a fanatic when I see one, even when it’s the face of an urbane, sophisticated, extremely wealthy old man. It’s in the eyes. “Yep, figured that much out. It’s how and when,” I say quietly, not wanting to rile him up too much. I glance sideways at Holly and see she’s noticed his odd look too. I’m sure if she has, Stan has and probably Leech. Now what do we do, I wonder. This is just great. One of the major players in the game is showing signs of some loose screws. “We need to think ahead of them,” Stan replies. “They were thinking ahead… found us on the way to the outposts and jumped us. We just didn’t think much about it—thought we had more time than we did. And no, this isn’t a blame session,” he continues quickly, raising a hand to forestall Leech’s impassioned reply. “We don’t have time for that, for sure.” She nods slowly, tension leaking out of her. “OK, ok. You’re right. I’m just a little defensive. And we lost a ship; that’s not good news to anyone, on top of the casualties we suffered anyway.”

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VIS “No, but it doesn’t cripple us.” I hold out one hand, ticking things off as I think of them. “We have the transports intact, and ready to land at the first outpost, right?” Leech nods. “Good. That’s one thing. We have semi-trained kids who can fight a holding action there if they need to; we can use them to train others. That’s another thing.” I check off another finger. I hope I have enough fingers. “We have a massive supply of the ultra-dense mineral, more than anyone else we know of in this universe. That gives us not only fuel but a huge bargaining chip…” “With whom? You can’t tell me you’d actually bargain with that, that… filth!” Von Drehle sputters. He almost drops his glass of wine, but Holly catches it and places it on the desk nearby. He doesn’t even notice. “We’re here to kill them! Dammit!” “Bargain with other Corporations—to bring them onto our side. You see, even though I’m just an old, grizzled Gunny Sergeant, I know how to win people’s hearts and minds. Sometimes you do that instead of shooting the shit out of them, you know?” I grin, but it’s a nasty one, showing my teeth. I’m tired of this old geezer going on about killing. I know more about it than he ever will, and I’m sick of it. “The other Corporations—correct me if I’m wrong, Claudius—will back the group they see as having the most resources—the most to ‘share’ with them. Yes?” He sits back, straightens his tunic with a tug at the bottom of it. “Hmm. Maybe.” He rubs his head slowly. “No maybe about it. They want the mineral; we have it. The Rogues don’t.” I count off another point. “We also have the advantage that we know a little more than they do… they’re not expecting us to know as much as we do. They think we’re just a herd of cows waiting to be brisket.” Holly and Cal make faces but I say it with intent to shock. I look them over carefully, then at the others. Stan nods agreement, Leech does too. “I know that sounds awful but it’s the truth. We’ve started using weapons they don’t know anything about; we’ve got the recipe for the ‘cocktail’, which I think we should ramp up in terms of delivery systems, and we know what their physical abilities are. I think those are strategic advantages, not just tactical ones.” “You’re right,” Leech says, decisively. “We do have weapons they don’t know about. And we’re slightly ahead of the game. They also lost several armed ships just a few hours ago, and you can’t replace those overnight, even using Corporate ships and crew. So we have more time, and the chance to set things up so the outposts aren’t overrun.” “Some of their ships do have the fuel,” Holly says quietly. “We’d been shipping that off site as fast as it could be processed. So some of them have it.” “Yes, but it’s already in their ship reactors. What we have isn’t processed as much, and isn’t tied into one reactor system. It’s available for other people—or ships, or facilities—to use. That makes it more valuable.” Leech smiles. “We’re sitting on the California Gold Rush, folks.” “Just as long as the Rogues don’t ride in and shoot off our asses.” I close my hand into a fist. “This started out as a murder, a series of murders, and it’s got to stop. Stan, what’s the Alliance doing? Do we get more help, or are we on our own?” 146

VIS Stan sighs. “The Alliance is basically fighting a guerilla war on Earth right now. Even humans are noticing, which certainly complicates matters greatly. I’ve been in touch with them, and they’re sending a small group of Enforcers out to meet us at one of the outposts. Right now, that’s as much as they can do. They’re having a hard time of it, honestly, Earthside. The Rogues had really built an infrastructure that was much more extensive than we knew about… with the help of numerous Servants.” “Were you people asleep at the wheel?” Von Drehle whispers. “How could you let them…” “We’re not a numerous people…” Stan says, a sideways smile at me. I catch the reference, to one of my favorite writers, Stirling. The Alliance vampire continues. “Mr. Von Drehle, we’re doing all we can. This just surprised all of us. Maybe over time, we got complacent, I don’t know. I’m just a front line guy, myself. Got injured badly on the job, they put me on surveillance duties. Thought it’d be a cushy job until I fully healed. Kind of like our Sheriff here…” “I wondered why they’d made you into a surveillance dude instead of an Enforcer like Theo,” I say quietly. “You doing ok?” “Yeah, almost everything’s regenerated. And yes, I said regenerated. How do you think we live for hundreds of years, anyway? It’s not just the vitamins,” the man replies. He pats his ample stomach. “This is just for show.” “Could’ve fooled me,” Leech grins. “You look like a big old lazy bartender to me…” “Yeah… that’s the idea,” Stan chuckles but quickly grows more serious. Von Drehle’s face is crimson and his lips have set; this guy’s ready to go off like a fragmentation grenade, I realize, and push my chair back fractionally. “I don’t know why you all think this is some sort of summer excursion or joke…” Claudius Von Drehle says slowly, his voice sounding like broken glass. “They killed my girl. I don’t care what the rest of you do, I’m going to kill… kill…ki…” His voice catches suddenly and he gasps, grabbing the left side of his head with one hand. “Gaahhh… kkkk….lllll” “Stroke!” Holly says, leaping to her feet. “Archer, Stan, pick him up and put him on the deck.” She runs around to the other side of Leech’s desk, using her comp set without asking—as Medical Officer, she’s entitled. “Medical, stretcher team and medcomp to Major Leech’s cabin, stat!” Leech walks over to where we’ve laid the old man. “I’d cancel that stat order, Holly.” “Don’t tell me my job, Major…”Holly’s voice drops off as she comes over to us. I reach down and close Claudius Von Drehle’s eyes with one hand. She drops to her knees, checks for pulses. “Damn it. Oh, damn it.” We stay in a silent circle around the man’s body until the medical team arrives with their stretcher. My hand finds Holly’s hand and I hold it, gently, as they take the body away. Chapter 39

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VIS George Golson looks at us with his eyes wide in disbelief. Here we go again; he no more believes us about the Rogues than… well, than I did when I first heard about vampires in space. I keep my smile pasted on and try again. “You’re the chief administrator of this sector’s colonies. We really need you to understand what’s coming your way. And I know, I know… it sounds absolutely crazy. Insane. But believe me, it’s not. It’s bad, and it’s headed your way. We’re here to help.” “Sheriff Hudson…” Golson looks down at the personal comp in his hands, glancing over the photos we’ve provided, documentation… “It’s just that… I’m a very logical man. Have to be, in this position. And this just flies in the face of everything I know. I just…” “You’re running out of time. We all are.” Stan speaks up from behind me. He’s been very quiet all during this meeting. We landed on the primary colony a few hours ago, offloaded the Habitat refugees, the wounded, and started to talk with Golson and his people. But it’s been a long, long day and we’re all exhausted. “You may not believe it, but are you going to wait until one of these things tears your throat out for fun?” Golson looks even more spooked. Not a good thing. I glare at Stan and he pipes down. I then take Golson gently by the elbow and walk him over to a window—it overlooks the verdant green fields of wheat growing on the outpost’s farm, under the huge biodome they’ve constructed. “Listen. Let me just talk with you one on one, ok? I’m not crazy. They aren’t crazy. I know we sound that way… but look at it like this. Even if what we say is damn hard to believe, wouldn’t it behoove you to treat the threat as real, at least until proven otherwise?” “Maybe.” Boy, this guy’s a tough nut to crack. “Maybe doesn’t get it. You have about four or five armed ships heading your way; they want the outpost as a staging position. That much is pretty clear. Whether or not they’re vampires, or pink ponies, or giant Martian weasels, that doesn’t matter right now.” George Golson finally breaks into a thin grin. “OK. OK. I’m just used to things being a certain way…” “Hell, I was, too. I was a Habitat sheriff, used to breaking up bar fights and whatnot. I wasn’t prepared for serial killers with fangs. But you cope, you know?” I grin back. “And we’re slightly ahead of the curve, so to speak, so we can prepare for them before they get here.” “Wouldn’t they just want to land, perhaps refuel, and then leave?” He’s grasping at straws and I think we both know it. I shake my head no. “Not unless you count eating your personnel as refueling.” “Director Golson, do we have to listen to these weirdoes?!” A very angry looking man stamps up to us, glaring at me and then at Golson. “They’re all quite mad, you know.” “I wish that were true, Doctor Restar. But I really don’t think it is. We have to prepare for some very unwelcome visitors,” Golson says quietly. The doctor looks wildly at the two of us.

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VIS “Perhaps it’s now a case of folie a deux,” he mutters. “Director Golson, I really should talk with you. Alone.” “Later,” the Director says, walking past the angry doctor and towards the group. “Everyone, no matter whether we really believe in the vampire details, we can understand that the ships coming toward us from Earth contain people who mean us harm. So therefore, in my capacity as Director of the colonies in this Sector, I’m declaring a Class One Emergency.” The group looks surprised but not overly so. I think it’s starting to settle in, especially with people looking at the photos and vids on their personal comp sets. Major Leech speaks up next. “Thank you, Director. We’re here to provide any assistance you need, but we are a bit limited on personnel.” He turns to her and smiles. “We’re fine on personnel, and we’ve invested in a fairly impressive defense system. I’d like your military experts to take a look over it, and see what they can add for improvements. I’ll give these ships one chance to show they come in peace, and then… if they’re coming for other purposes, we’ll deal with them as we need to.” He waves some of his people over, introducing them to Major Leech and her staff. The talk quickly turns highly technical, and I wander off to find Holly. “Hi, honey,” Holly says, hugging me hard. She’s sitting near Heidi, and they’re finishing up a quick lunch. She offers me a sandwich and I decline; I had something while we were offloading personnel earlier. “Hey, babe,” I lean down and kiss her gently. “Get any rest?” “I make her rest, yepper,” Heidi burbles happily. “I make Doc Holly lay down and sleep. She no want to but I makes her. She rest and then she feel better. Now she with her man, she very happy. I happy. I go now, come back later.” She hops to her feet, gathers the remnants of lunch and hustles them away. I sit down next to Holly and take her hand in mine. “I wish we had more time together.” Holly smiles at me, adjusting her glasses a little. “I know. We will. I really do think we will. We just have to take it as it comes. You know that.” “Hell, yeah…” I nod. “But that was… different. Now I have a wife and we haven’t even had our honeymoon. Or a party to celebrate. Or just a couple of hours… for celebration…” I lean in close and nuzzle along her neck, not caring if everyone in the whole room sees us. She bats me away playfully, her face turning crimson. “Stop that! You wolf!” Holly’s laughter thrills me right down to the bottom of my feet. But even though she bats my roaming lips away from her, she doesn’t move away, and I sit there, just absorbing her perfume, and her being next to me. “I’ll show you wolf once we have some private time,” I whisper in her ear. “You can be Little Red Riding Hood…”

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VIS “Oh, great, now you’re into role playing, and we’re just married,” she chuckles. “Why can’t I be the wolf?” “Cause you’d scare me, lady,” I whine. “Really…” Holly kisses me deeply, holding my face between her hands. “You’re so silly. I can’t wait to get you alone…” She kisses me again, and then chuckles as my eyes widen. “And yes, we have to wait a bit.” “Damn it!” I mutter. “Freakin’ vampires messing me up with my woman…” I stand up and stretch. “Ain’t that right,” Holly sighs, standing up too. She straightens her scrubs up and brushes her hair more neatly into place. “No R&R for us right now…” “Nope, we have work to do, people,” Margaret Leech walks over to us, putting her arms around our shoulders. “A hell of a lot of work.”

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VIS Chapter 40 Well, that’s done, I think. I sit down and look over the plans one more time, wondering what I’m not seeing, or not thinking of, or just too damn tired to care about. I rub my eyes as George Golson slowly walks in. He’s limping slightly and sighs deeply as he sits down next to my desk. “I’m not as young as I thought I was,” he says ruefully. “Not a spring chicken, that’s for sure.” “Finish your training?” All of us have been through a crash course, orchestrated by yours truly and the drill instructors from Leech’s ship. Some people encountered a bit more of the crash than the course, but I think at least we’re all somewhat ready for the coming Rogues and Servants. I know I ended up with several bruises when I didn’t pay close enough attention… Cal’s knee is in a new skin cast, but he’s still working as a trainer. One tough kid. My admiration for him has gone up considerably from when I first met my best friend’s lover… George nods. “Yes, thank God! Those Marines of yours are some tough trainers.” “Better to pay for it in training than on the battlefield,” I agree. “They’re tough, but good. We certainly didn’t have time to finesse it, that’s damn sure.” He nods again. “Do you think we’re ready?” “As ready as we’ll ever be.” I look over the plans in front of me on my comp set’s vidscreen. “I keep thinking I’m missing something obvious, but I can’t place it.” He leans over and looks at the diagrams. “Looks fine to me. I know you’ve been slaving over it for quite some time, when the Drill Instructors weren’t tossing you around like a bean bag!” I chuckle, remembering one particularly startling moment when I saw the Senior Drill Instructors face as my feet flew by my face. She was smiling. Then I hit the deck, and saw stars. She was still smiling when she yanked me to my feet again and told me to try the lunge again with the pulse weapon. I think she was definitely enjoying herself. I wasn’t. “Yep, put in the time, hope it pays off. Anyway, we’ll give them a run for their money.” We’ve had several hours—almost two shifts’ worth of time—to get ready; the Rogue ships are almost here. Almost within firing range, if what the Space Force techs and colonists have cobbled together works as well as they predict. The more we can take out at a distance, the better, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve met them up close and personal and don’t really want to, again. But I think some of their ships will get through and we’ll end up fighting here in the outpost. At least we have personnel now, and at least we know what we’re facing. Golson sighs, stretches and then slaps my shoulder. “We’ll be fine.” “Yep!” I stand up and hold out my hand; we shake. “Better head toward our little command center here at the outpost, and see what Leech and her pals have been up to…” We walk together to the building we’ve designated as command central. It doesn’t take long to get there; these colony posts have been designed with efficiency in mind. 151

VIS “Good, you’re here,” Leech says, waving us over. “We have their ships spotted; they’re coming in fast. Using a fan formation; harder to get all of them the first round, but we’ll do our damnedest.” “Excellent.” I look over the screen, counting. “Eleven of their ships? Jesus, they must have grabbed every interplanetary ship they could possibly find Earthside. They’re serious about this exodus crap.” Stan comes over to join us. “Yes, they are, and the ones left behind on Earth are fighting a series of battles with our people and with human forces. Either as a distraction or as a way to get more ships and resources, we’re not sure. But we do know they’re fighting like hell, so these ones will, too.” He looks grim. The flab’s melted away from his frame over the last few days; his chin’s still stubbly with beard, and his eyes look exhausted. But his mouth is set firmly and I know he’ll stand by us. “Ma’am, the initial wave of Rogues ships will be in range in two point three minutes from now,” a chief petty officer tells us. Leech nods in acknowledgement. “As soon as they hit the outer range, open fire. All ships, fire at will when the firing line is crossed. Take out as many of them as you possibly can. Ground forces, report.” The various companies of “troops” (I still have to raise a professional eyebrow at the term; these are planetary ecologists, farmers, traders, technicians, Space Force men and women, and miners… not really trained troops) report in and tell us they’re at battle readiness condition alpha. They’re as ready as they literally can be. Holly chimes in; the medical forces are ready too. The children of the outpost have been taken into a shelter with some of the older residents, and they’re reporting everyone accounted for. I look over at Leech and smile tightly. “Ready to rock and roll, Major.” “Semper fi, Sergeant.” Her teeth are white in her tanned, long face. Her hair’s pulled back in a tight bun; her uniform’s impeccable. If there was anyone I had to go into a fight next to, she’s one of them. I’d like to have Muhammad here, and Lance Corporal Hillis, but Muhammad’s dead and Hillis is safely on Earth, raising horses. Wish I was there… not here. Oh, well. I knew the risk when I signed the forms. I snap off a salute to the Major, and turn to the comp set assigned to me. I’m overall commander of the ground forces, and want to make sure we can rapidly respond to the Rogues’ landing when the shit hits the fan. I check the communication channels; everyone’s ready, no extraneous chatter on the lines. Good. That much training sank in. Maybe the rest did, too. The Rogue ships come closer and closer; finally our Space Force cruisers begin firing. The Rogues, well-armed and aware this time, fire back; we actually have a fairly evenly-matched orbital battle going on. We take losses but so do the Rogues. Our Space Force personnel in the command center maintain an icy, professional calm… but inside I can feel my gut tightening; my palms are sweaty and my mouth’s dry. Here we go, boys and girls, here we go… the Rogues begin to break past our Space Force ships and come in for landing. **

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VIS “Well, Sheriff Hudson. I know you met my sister. I may be harder to deal with than she was, though.” His voice is cold and steady; dark eyes seem to bore through me as he looks through the vidscreen on my personal comp. “My name’s Zhu Li. And I have something you may value.” The battle was short and sharp… the ships came in, we zapped several, but they still managed to land. We sent in our barely trained “troops”, most of whom didn’t do so well, but hell, at least they tried. The Rogues were out for blood this time literally and figuratively and we paid for it. I rub the swollen line along my left jaw where a boot had caught me off guard, and wince. “What the hell do you have that I may value, Rogue?” “This.” He smiles whitely, fangs glinting. He gestures off camera and then the screen’s filled with a new face—Holly’s! My mind blanks as my stomach turns. Her face is puffy and blood’s trickling from one corner of her mouth; one eye is swollen almost shut. “Archer?” She whispers. Oh, good God, what do I do now? I knew we’d lost communication early on, but thought maybe she’d gone to the underground shelters. Jesus. Not her, anyone but her. “Holly…” “Ah, yes, the two love birds,” Li whispers, his face coming close to hers. As I watch, he licks her cheek slowly, his tongue bright red against her pale skin. Her glasses are gone, and her eyes are shut tight against the horror. “I thought you might find what I have to say interesting, at the least.” “Archer, don’t list…” Holly begins, raising her voice, but her breath is choked off by Zhu Li’s hand around her throat. He tilts her head back slowly, making her veins appear under her skin. “Now, now… my turn to talk. Then we can have some more… fun,” Li says, licking his fangs, then tracing her veins with the fingers of his free hand. “So… Sheriff. You have some fuel. We want it. We have your lady friend. I assume you want her. Correct?” Stan yanks me backwards, out of range of the comp’s camera and mike. “Damn it, Hudson. You have to consider her a casualty. There’s no negotiating with these bastards, none. Don’t believe a word he says. She’s already dead…” “The hell she is!” My voice shakes with rage (and a little fear, too, to be honest). “She’s right there, trying to talk with us. And even if she’s been infected, like I was, we can fix it. You did it before, you can do it again. Let me hear what the son of a bitch has to say.” Margaret Leech removes Stan’s hands from my upper arms, but then takes my chin in her hand, forcing me to look at her. “Archer, listen to me. Listen to an old buddy. Even Holly tried to tell you just now not to do anything stupid. We’ve been through shit like this before, back in the Wars. You lose friends. It’s not fair, it’s really shitty, but you can’t compromise your mission.” “And what the hell is that, Maggie?” I stare at her, feeling the blood pound in my veins. “What the hell exactly is our mission? I thought it was to stay alive. I don’t get into all this strategic bullshit thinking. I save my people and…”

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VIS “You know as well as I do that you can’t save everyone. Or have you forgotten?” Her voice is soft but cool and it snaps me back from the rage place I was heading… the redness seems to go away from my vision, and I feel ice in my belly. Fear. “Maggie, I can’t lose her.” “She knew the risks as well as you did, as well as we all did. It’s not your fault.” She shakes my head slowly and then releases my chin. “Please, listen to me. It breaks my heart to say this, but we have to consider her gone. I’m sorry. No negotiation.” “We can work something out,” says a voice from behind us. Cal pushes between the two of us, his leg in its brace making a small clicking sound as he moves. “So stop all this fussing. They want fuel, we want Holly. And any other prisoners they still have alive. I can help.” “The hell you can, buster,” Margaret Leech snarls. “Stay the fuck out of this conversation!” “No, I don’t think I will,” Cal says, conversationally. A small pulse weapon, a pistol, appears in his hand, held against her side. “I’m in this conversation, and you’ll listen, you old bitch, or your guts’ll be all over this room.” He smiles sweetly. Okay, can I faint now, or go on leave, or just run out of the room screaming? Part of my mind wonders… the smile on Cal’s face convinces me. He’s serious, and he’s seriously crazy. Time to put on the happy face too… “Cal, listen… we can work things out! Just put that dinky thing away, back in your pocket, dude.” “No… this is the only way I can get you to listen. And from the looks of the Rogue, we don’t have time to quibble. I’m going to go get Holly and deliver them some fuel. And you’re not going to do anything stupid, are you, Archer?” He narrows his eyes a little at me, the silly little smile still on his face. “I have a major score to settle, myself. Von Drehle didn’t live to get his revenge, but I will.” “This isn’t about…” He laughs, and steps back, holding Margaret next to him. “Stan, please, don’t be any more stupid than you look. You like Major Leech, don’t you?” Stan stops in his tracks, face turning pale. He nods. Cal walks toward the comp set and the vidscreen. “Li, are you still there?” “Well, pretty boy, who are you? Let me know your name… if you survive, I’ll see if I can pick you up as a Servant. How does that sound? This one…” Li shakes Holly, whose head now snaps forward and back loosely… “she’s not so much fun after the first hour or so. What do you have to say to my… ah… proposal?” If I could, I’d lunge through the screen and rip him limb from limb. All I can do is stand here like an idiot, watching my wife’s head droop as she hangs in the Rogue’s arms. Is she dead? Oh, God, let it be me instead, some tiny voice inside wails. Not her. Not after all this time.

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VIS “I’m Cal, and I’m… handling… the negotiations now,” the young man chortles. Leech squirms a little and he tightens his grip on her waist, and on the pistol. His knuckles are already white. “You deliver the woman, you get the fuel.” “It’ll have to be a simultaneous exchange, you know,” Li purrs. “We’re not naïve.” “Neither are we. That’s why I’ve taken over. Hudson was too… emotional about things. I’m not, so much.” Cal’s smile widens. “And I’d really, really like to meet you in person, Zhu Li.” “How nice,” the Rogue sneers but I swear there’s a hint of curiosity in his voice too. They can’t help themselves, I realize. Any chance to dominate, to have power over someone, they’ll jump at it. That’s important; file it away for analysis later. Later, assuming you aren’t dead in an hour or so. “Fine. Bring the fuel. We want enough refined fuel for five cruiser class ships.” “Prove to us Holly’s alive,” I yell. “Or the fucking deal’s off!” Li smiles again. “OK.” He moves his free hand off camera and suddenly Holly’s head snaps up, her eyes widening and a groan ripping out of her throat. “See? The wench can still squeal.” “Archer!” Holly gasps, blood running down her chin freely now, since she’s bitten through her lip in pain. “Archer, don’t! Don’t!” “Damn it, Holly, we’re going to get you out of there…”I begin, but Cal cuts me off coldly. “Enough already. Time for some action,” he says, still using that weird conversational tone. “Leech, walk ahead of me. You’re going to give the orders for the fuel to be placed on a pallet. One should do it. And then we’re meeting Li at the old Command Center. Now.” “The hell I will,” Leech starts. Cal grinds the pistol into the small of her back and waits. “He’ll do it,” Stan says quietly. “Maggie, just do what he says.” Cal nods. “I have absolutely nothing to lose and a lot to gain… so please, let’s not make things messier. Okey-dokey?” Jesus, he’s not only around the bend, he’s all the way down the mountain, off the tracks… I nod, catching Leech’s eyes with mine. She’s been around the block enough to know crazy when she hears it, too, and she slumps a little. Cal pushes her down the hallway. I follow, as does Stan, but at a safe distance. Leech gives the orders. The pallet’s loaded quickly, with some really dark looks, by a couple of engineers. Cal tells Leech to guide it down the hallway toward the Command Center. We walk past blast marks, debris, occasional bodies… both Rogue, and human. The fighting was damn intense here but not intense enough to fight them off completely. My stomach’s turning somersaults and my palms are sweaty… what the hell are we doing? They’ll just kill Holly anyway… but shit. Maybe I can die with her. I don’t really care anymore. She’s all I was really looking forward to, anyway. I sigh and keep up with the others. 155

VIS We arrive at the Command Center, and meet Li and his buddies. Holly’s being held by one of them, her body slumping against the Rogue woman’s side. Blood trickles onto the floor; Holly’s uniform is in shreds and my temples pound in frustration. Anybody got an RPG handy? We all stare at each other silently for a few seconds. “Here’s the fuel. Now hand over the woman. And any other humans you have as prisoner,” Cal says brightly. He pushes Leech out of the way, back toward us. “And no one tries anything stupid,” he continues, almost as an afterthought, after looking at our faces. His happy little grin is still there. “We negotiated for one human… this one. Not worth much now, by the way. But she was delicious.” Li grins. The other Rogue, the woman, yanks Holly’s head up by the hair and shows us her throat, punctured by four tooth marks. There’s a heavy smear of blood there, but not enough where she’s bled out. They’ve just been playing with their food again, a very dispassionate, cold part of my mind notes. She’s infected. “Fine, fine, it really doesn’t matter to me,” Cal says. “Go ahead, hand her over, and we’ll finish with all this damn drama.” He perches merrily on the pallet, pistol casually in his hand, his broken leg propped out in front of him. Li looks around at his fellow Rogues, who smile and chuckle as he catches their eyes. “Yes, enough. Here she is, what’s left of her…” He makes a spare motion with one hand, and the female Rogue tosses my wife to the floor. I run to her, cradling her in my arms, then backing away rapidly. Li licks his lips again… my God, if I could just take a machete to his damn face, I’d remove those fangs faster than shit through a goose… “Here’s the fuel.” Cal pats it. “And I go with it.” “Really?” Li walks over to him. “Changing sides, pretty boy?” He strokes Cal’s hair. “Yes, Master,” Cal says, looking up with wide eyes at Li. “Yes, please…” Stan gags a little. Leech looks away, disgusted. I look carefully at Cal to see if there’s any trace of the nice young man I met a few days ago, something to explain this. I don’t see anything but lust and some sort of weird happiness in his eyes as he looks at the Rogue standing next to him. I shudder, and Holly moves a little in my arms. “Ok, Cal, if that’s how you want it, fine with me.” I nod at Stan. Let’s get the hell out of here while we can. The Rogues have begun to move around us, but Stan raises a ‘cocktail’ rifle, and they back away. “Come on, let’s go…” He looks one more time over at Cal, and then sadly shakes his head. Leech exits, followed by me with Holly in my arms, then Stan brings up the rear. As the door closes, I see Li leaning down, tongue extended already, to kiss Cal. Cal’s bringing his arms up around the Rogue’s shoulders… The door seals. We trot down the hallway, minds pretty numb at the betrayal. Then there’s a huge explosion behind us; the doors and hallway walls bow out with the shock wave but hold; they’re

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VIS built strong to stand anything up to a several megaton bomb. We’re still knocked off our feet; I manage to curl into a ball, protecting Holly as I hit the deck. My ears are ringing and I look up, realizing Maggie’s yelling at me. Or at least she looks like she’s yelling; I can’t hear a thing. Stan helps me up, and then takes Holly into his arms. Margaret grabs my arm and tugs me down the hallway, as smoke begins to creep around the slightly-warped deck plates and walls. With the fuel that was in the old Command Center, we don’t want to be around that gray smoke, I remember; it’s toxic as hell. We run down the hall, away from the smoke. As we reach our new(er) Command Center, we’re met by contingents of troops, weapons at the ready. Helga’s at their head, and shrieks with joy when she sees “her Doc Marten”. Then she shrieks in horror, seeing the bite marks. Stan tells her to hush, and pushes past her, and the troops, toward the make-shift medical center. I know what he’ll be doing for the next few hours. I nod at Leech; my hearing’s coming back, or Helga has one hell of a set of lungs. Possibly both. “Maggie, head on back to the command center. I’ll lead these guys in… we’ll see if we can clear up any Rogues still alive.” I take the rifle one of the troops offers me, checking to see if it’s loaded. “Let me know about Holly when you have a chance.” “Damn, he wasn’t a traitor,” Leech says, wonderingly. “He sure as hell had me fooled.” “Yeah.” Me too, I think, regretfully. Good ole Cal. What a hell of a way to go. Quick, at least. “Let’s see if we can’t clean this colony up.” “You got it, Sarge,” Maggie Leech says, looking me up and down. “And we’ll take good care of Holly. Go kick some ass. Do it for Cal.” “For Cal!” The troops start baying. I realize that he made quite an impression on most of them during their brief training sessions with him. Good to know, good to use. I join in, locking eyes with several of them. “For Cal!” We race down the hallway, towards battle and towards, hopefully, the end of Rogues on this outpost.

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VIS Chapter 41 “Holly? Holly, wake up!” I lean over her bed. “Holly?” “Can’t a woman get any rest around here?” She sounds grumpy… in my book, that’s a good sign. She sighs and sits up, running her hands through her tousled hair. “What time is it… better yet, what day is it?” “It’s three days since… we got you back,” I say haltingly, not knowing the words for her ordeal. “You’re doing fine. Helga just thought you should try sitting up for a bit, and maybe trying some soup.” Holly nods, slowly. She’s got a lot of new skin bandages on, both visibly and ones I know about under her pajamas. I helped bathe and dress her in new PJs not long ago. The new skin helps healing, really boosts it, but I was pretty sickened by the amount of injuries she had. Tried not to show it. Trying not to show it now. But the woman in her sees my eyes, and knows. “Um… did Stan manage to… you know…” “Yes, honey,” I nod. “He did his magic, and now you’re the second… or third… known human to recover from Servant status. He’s exhausted, but you and he both are doing fine. Fine.” She looks away, slowly crossing her arms. “No, I’m not fine. And I completely understand if… if you… well, if you don’t want…” “Will you shut up?” I bark. “All I want to do is hold you. But I can’t hold you and feed you soup. So quit your lollygagging and eat some soup. And all I want is you. Nothing else matters. OK?” “But he… he did things…” her voice shakes. “Archer, he…” “Honey, Holly, I know. I’ve bathed you, I’ve changed your pajamas. I’ve sat here for over 24 hours, waiting for you to completely wake up. I saw you when they had you. I can never completely understand all you went through, but I’m here to listen.” I swallow hard, a lump in my throat. “You’re my wife, dammit, and nothing will ever, ever change that. Got it? Now, soup.” “You’re worse than…” Holly pauses, takes a sip of the soup, “…than my mother about soup. But hey, this is pretty damn good.” She looks down appraisingly at the bowl. “What’s in it? This doesn’t taste like rations to me…” “I make it!” Helga announces. “You eat! Good for you. This place, good foods. Not like old Habitat. Blech! I make soup, you eat, you feel better. Make your man happy, too. Now eat!” She smiles down at her friend and my wife, who grins happily back. “I should have known! When you did talk, you’d talk about cooking!” Holly chuckles for the first time in days, and something in my heart lifts. “Helga, this is excellent!” “Yah, yah, now eat!” Helga gently pats Holly on the arm. “You be fine, I knowing it.”

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VIS ** “Sitrep, Sergeant?” Major Leech looks down the table at me. We’ve gathered to go over the last few days. I’ve had a couple of hours’ worth of sleep and feel bright eyed and bushy tailed compared to how I had been feeling. “Or should I say, Lieutenant Hudson?” “Ack!” I spit out my coffee. “Lieutenant?!” The room erupts into laughter, honest to goodness laughter. “Yes, L-T. With a shiny gold bar on each side of your collar, if your head hasn’t swollen too much to be in a collar,” Leech says jovially. She gets up, walks down to where I’m sitting, and hands me a small blue case. “Use these. They were my first pair of butter bars. Brought me luck; I’d like to think they’ll bring you some, too. Congrats.” “Aw, hell, Major…” I stutter. “I like being a sergeant!” “Too bad, so sad, now get over it.” She pats me on a shoulder. “If I had a violin…” She makes a gesture with her thumb and forefinger, miming playing a tiny violin. More laughter around the table, but then she waves for quiet. “It’s well deserved, and it’s official. Lieutenant Hudson, welcome back to the Marines. You’re active duty again.” One of her aides slides a personal comp over to me, the screen on. Official orders are there for me, assigning me to Leech’s task force. With the rank of lieutenant, battlefield commission. Oh, great, now I have to be an officer and a gentleman. Yay. I nod, electronically sign the orders where indicated, and slide the comp back to the paper-pusher staff member. Well, that’s done. “Um, thanks. I guess.” “You’re welcome,” Leech answers. “Now… sitrep.” “We suffered 123 casualties; 49 dead, rest wounded. We killed at least 32 Rogues and at last count, 78 Servants. They’d holed up in a grain silo storage area, after the remaining Rogues left, and we had to kill them. They just wouldn’t surrender.” That was a grisly scene. Hope I don’t have to see too many of those. The damn Servants just wouldn’t surrender, even though we spent thirty minutes trying to assure them we’d let them surrender, and then help them stop being Servants. Oh, well. We tried, anyway. “And the outpost?” Leech looks over the 3-D representation floating over the table in front of us. “We’ve restored all power and water supplies; several areas are still being checked for bodies and any surprises the Rogues left behind.” I nod at the silo area. “We found mines—toe poppers—when we went in to clear the Servants out. Whether it was to keep them in the silo area or to catch us when we went in after them, they were damn hard to clear out.” “Stan, your assessment?” She looks over at the Enforcer. He’s lost more weight, I realize, and looks even more tired than I feel. And that’s saying a lot. “I think we’re in the clear. From what I hear from Earthside, the Enforcer troops, augmented by human special forces troops and Marines from Space Force, have either killed or captured most of 159

VIS the remaining Rogues on Earth. The Servants are another question—many of them have gone underground. But we’ll find them. They can’t stay away from their masters for too long, or they’ll… decay.” His voice is grim. “But that’s their problem. Not ours. We just have to find them. As far as the ships that escaped Earth, we’ve accounted for more than half. But that still leaves about 40 to 50 ships out there. We’ll have to hunt them down and find them.” “Space Force is working on that now,” Leech says quickly. “We haven’t tracked all of them, but we have leads, and traces from many of them. And not many of them have the new fuel, so that limits their range. We’re sitting on the largest deposit of the fuel… so we need to be ready for anything.” “How are we going to do that? Just keep moving around?” I ask, half-jokingly. “Not a bad idea. Splitting up the supply of fuel makes it harder for them to swoop down and get it all in one go,” Stan says, perking up a little. “Not a bad idea.” Sally, sitting way down at one end of the table, pipes up. “You never keep your whole stash in one place, man!” We all look over at her in surprise. She smoothes her platinum gold hair back, adjusts her bright pink tube top slightly, and smiles. “Everyone knows that!” “You know, that’s true…” I nod, grinning. Throughout everything, Sally’s been there, in the background, helping out whenever and wherever possible. She’s a tough cookie but she’s got a heart of gold, that one. “So… what’s the plan, Stan?” “How about this… we find out how many of Von Drehle’s ships can carry fuel. We split up our supply among them and Major Leech’s task force. Everyone carries some. That way, if the Rogues happen to catch some of us, they won’t get all the fuel.” He looks over to Leech for her reaction. She nods. “Sounds good to me. Captain Hewlitt, what do you think? You’re the ranking Von Drehle representative here.” A very skinny, tall man stands up, looks around. “Sounds fine! We’ll carry as much as we can. Where do we take it?” “You’ll be evacuating some of the further outposts, and then we’ll talk more with Space Force Command. For now, you’ll just stay in an outer-Solar orbit. We’ll use secure channels to communicate. Once things settle down, either we’ll resettle the outposts or bring the settlers back to Earthside. But that’s for later. Right now, let’s get the fuel and personnel distribution issue settled.” Leech taps several ships with her finger on the 3-D display. “We’ve got the resources, let’s spread them out. Excellent ideas.” The group splits up into working teams and I notice how easily they do so… it’s becoming second nature, just like how a good platoon works together naturally. Leech nods at me and I walk over to where her desk is, off to one side of the room. “So… Great Leader, what’s the real plan?” “Hell if I know.” She frowns as she speaks quietly. “From what I’ve heard, Space Force itself was infiltrated by those bastards. We’ve done a spring cleaning of sorts but it’s going to take some time

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VIS to get fully reorganized. Can you help me hold it together out here while they sort their shit out on Earth? This is much bigger than just us, now, Archer. Much bigger.” “Yeah, it started out as one bad M-F of a murder, but then snowballed. Now it’s like an avalanche.” I look over her shoulder at the teams. “But we’ve got some great people on our team, you know? I think we’ll be ok. Keeping moving, keeping the Rogues from gathering and landing on all of us at once, that’s the best thing for now.” “See, even you think strategically,” she grins. “How’s Holly?” “She’s ok. One of the docs here, a psychologist—no, not that bean head that wouldn’t believe us. He bought it early on—this is some young guy with a beard, Barkley or something. He’s working with her. She’s got some PTSD to sort out, but he says she’ll be ok. She’s a tough ole gal.” My voice shakes a little since my eyes for some reason have gotten something in them. Like tears. “Hell, Maggie, I was terrified I’d lose her. I never allowed myself to fall in love like this, ever. I had a few flings… but nothing like this. And then that bastard… he…” She leans over and hugs me firmly. “I know. Holly talked in her sleep, when I was sitting with her. I know. And yes, she’s a tough ole gal. Barkley is a good sort; he’ll help her out. And we’ll all be there for her. And you still have her. As soon as I can, I’m sending you both on extended R&R. But for now, nose to the grindstone, L-T.” I hug her back. Highly unmilitary, but what the hell. We’ve been through hell, so we’re allowed. She grins at me and then slaps me on the back. “Semper fi, Jarhead.” “Do or die, Devil Dog!” I grin back. We’ve got our work cut out for us, and it makes me happy we’re at least able to do something. All of this has been so… stunning. It’ll take a while for it all to settle in, but over time, we’ll deal with it. Sometimes when you’re in the eye of the tornado, you just deal with the flying cows and worry about things later. I walk over to my team, waiting for me. “All right, you Swabbies, quit standing around, we’ve got work to do…”

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