PROLOGUE
The alarm goes off at 0700. I don't know who decided we need to be up at this hour, but here we are. Greg goes through Kenny's stuff and finds an iron. “No sense in looking scraggly,” he tells us. Someone else gets another one, and we all take turns getting the wrinkles out of our uniforms.
“Should I wear my red shirt?” Michael asks.
“No, let them see how much you've learned since basic,” Adam tells him. Michael and Betty take out their tech shirts and put them on with the rest of their uniforms. “Did you call your mom yet? Let her know what's going on?”
“The investigators already talked to her,” Michael says. “She'll be watching the proceedings. I need to shave.”
“We can’t. They took all our razors and scissors.”
“All of them?” Michael is surprised.
“As if we can't do damage with a pen or one of these irons,” Greg grumbles.
“Don't give them any more reasons to go through our gear.”
“When do we pack up Kenny's stuff?” Lana asks.
“I'll do it later,” Adam says. “Does everyone have their squad patches? We should wear those instead of the brigade or unit ones.” Good thing these use Velcro to go on. I never took my Rescue 9 patch off, but now it's the only one on my right shoulder.
“We never got a Rescue 9,” Michael tells us. Adam gets two from Kenny's uniforms.
“I can't take this,” Betty says quietly.
“Why? He's not using them.”
“His family wouldn't want them?”
“His family wanted him out of the service five years ago. C'mon; you know he'd share with you if he were here.” Betty and Michael put the squad patches on their right shoulders. The bigger technician or specialist patch goes on our left shoulders, the little one next to our service awards on the front of our shirts. We all do our best to clean the stains off our boots before tucking our pants into them.
“Don’t get too fussy with your boots,” Adam tells our kids. “You’d think they would’ve come up with something that comes cleaner than these.”
Four large security techs appear at our door. “It's time. Your legal aides will meet you in the holding room. If you have any questions, ask them through your aide. You shouldn't speak to anyone without your aide present, but it isn't illegal to do so. Do you understand?” We do. “Let's go then.”
When we finally meet our legal aides, they're all lieutenants in fresh new uniforms. I hope they have some trial experience. There are a lot of people watching this proceeding. I don't know most of them, but at least they'll hear what we have to say. As witnesses, we're cooped up the holding room. Rick has his hands chained to his side, but he is allowed to pace back and forth in the holding room. They've dressed him in a prison blue jumpsuit and blue sandals.
“What were you thinking?” Greg asks him. "Why in the world did you punch a captain?"
“Did I say I was thinking? Anyway, you should've heard what she was saying. We don't take that from anyone, all right?”
“She only did it to get you mad.”
“Yeah, well, it worked. Here we go.” James, in uniform, is brought to the defendant's box by two security techs. He looks pretty good for someone being charged with multiple felonies. I'm distracted when they bring Ryan and his aide into the holding room. Ryan, too, is in prison blues, but he's not restrained in any way.
“You're a witness, too?” Michael asks.
“They decided I was worth more alive than dead or in solitary,” Ryan answers. “Don't worry about him. James always lands on his feet, even when we were kids. He was about ten when our fishing boat got swamped, and he just knew where the closest island was where we could dry off and fix the thing. I wish I knew how he does it.”
We all focus on the court room when the panel of judges comes in and takes their seats. One captain, three commanders, and one chief. Nobody I know even by sight. Nobody on the panel looks more than 25 years old. Maybe they've had some recent experience battling the bugs. Maybe they've lost someone to the critters and have some sympathy for our leader.
The people from intelligence go first. The prosecutor doesn't waste much time with them. Then it's my turn.
“Name and rank,” from the chief judge.
“Raenella Cousins, rescue technician.”
“Do you understand why you are here?” from the prosecutor. The captain patch on his too tight uniform is crooked.
“Yes,” is all I say to him.
“Please describe to the court the situation you found yourself in four months ago.”
I look over to the chief judge. “Permission to speak freely, your honor?”
“Please do.”
“Didn't the investigators tell the court what happened?”
“We need to hear the whole story.” The prosecutor is getting testy already.
“That's not what you want,” I tell him. “You want a felony conviction so you can retire with a nice pension, maybe your own apartment someplace quiet.”
The chief judge speaks, “May I remind you that you are under oath, Technician. You must answer all our questions.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Start from the beginning then, please,” the prosecutor says. So I do.
PART 1
Day two with nothing to do. I can't believe the insects have been quiet for this long. Greg thinks if we can fry enough of them, we can move further south, but I'm not sure that'll happen anytime soon. I suppose I could go shoot some target practice, but it's still too cold to go outside for fun. In the fighters' lounge, people are playing battle games on all the video stations, two more are at each of the three pool tables. James is sitting at a square table, drawing in his notebook again. I really don't want to watch the war movie on the big screen. Maybe I can stream something on my computer. There's a sweaty smell that's worse than dead bug in here.
“Can someone get that crap out of the microwave?”
“It’s not crap; it’s scrambled eggs,” Rick answers.
“Are they real? They're not critter eggs, are they?”
“Come on. The day I eat anything insect is the day you shoot me, okay? You want some of this?”
“God, no. Just get rid of it.”
“You're up next, boss,” Kenny says to James. The cue ball follows two others into the far pocket.
“It's fine; you take my turn.”
“Not a chance; let someone else play,” Greg complains as he misses his shot.
“Looks like it’s just us, little man,” Kenny laughs.
“C’mon, James; you need to get your nose out of that book.”
“I’m fine right here, thanks. Rae, you can play for me.”
“No, thanks,” I tell him. “They cheat.”
“How do you cheat at pool?” Kenny asks. Computers beep. Kenny misses his shot, and the room goes quiet.
“Rescue 9, we're up.”
“Rescue 10, it's a go.” Finally - time to get some people back from the bugs. Maybe we can kill some critters along the way, too. The others go back to what they were doing. Kenny and Greg give up their spots at the pool table and gather with us. James looks at his computer for further instructions.
“Anything special?” Lana asks.
“Nothing yet. Coordinates to follow. We've got an hour to get ready. Make sure you have the large canisters of 'no fear' spray.” 60 minutes to make sure our equipment is in order, everything is fully charged. “Rae, hold up.” The others go get their stuff. “You're going to be our electronics tech today.” I've never done this before. I've always been the fighter below ground.
“What about Adam?”
“I need him to do some other work when we get to the pen. You'll be fine.” I’m glad he’s confident in my abilities.
T minus 50 minutes. Adam is at our equipment room when I get there. He’s packing both our bags.
“I would only bring your knife and your rifle,” he says. “Anything comes close, the fighters will take care of them.”
“Do we have to charge these spacers?”
“No. They'll take their power from the fences. Just don't cross the sensors with each other. It'll send a surge through the line, and that only sends more bugs.” That much I already know. Our electronics tech before Adam was taken by the insects when he didn’t get the spacers out properly. “You know how to work the door openers?”
“Stick it to the locks, press the green button, stand to the side.”
“Good. They work for anything: locks, hinges, screws; anything holding those pens together. You're going to be fine, Rae. I'll be there with you for the first part.” That's a little relief anyway.
T minus 20 minutes. We're all in our quarters, making sure our gear is in order. Kenny and Greg are lounging as if nothing is going to happen soon. Lana cranks her rifle charger one last time to make sure the battery is at full capacity.
“Should've done that a long time ago, kid,” Kenny laughs.
“And what're you going to say when I'm the last one killing the bugs?”
“I am always fully charged, hon.”
“We'll have none of that 'til after the rescue,” James announces as he and Rescue 10's leader come in. Everyone's attention falls to them. “Squad 9, we're getting the people out. We may have children, so we might be going slowly. Squad 10, you're the backup tonight. You're going to make sure no bugs get these people.”
“Do we know what condition they're in?”
“My understanding is they're supposed to go to organ harvesting.” This means the humans in this holding area would be in good shape. The insects want healthy, strong specimens to feed the masses. We shouldn't have to carry anyone or help them along.
T minus 10 minutes. Everybody checks their equipment one more time, then we put on our coats, carry packs, headgear, and new bug shells. I don’t know why these shells stink so badly. I understand we can’t smell like humans, but this is really hard to take.
T minus 3 minutes, and we are at the escape hatch. They’ll let the electronic fence down long enough for us to get into the tunnel, then we’re on our own. James is our group leader.
“This is it,” James says quietly. “We're stunning and spraying the sentries today. Stun only, guys; we don't have time to deal with dead bugs.”
“We kill them if they come at us, right?” I ask.
“Only if they come at us in numbers. Rick will reprogram the little bugs, and Rae and Adam are our electronics techs tonight. You know what to do, right?” We know. “Questions?” There are none.
Time to go. No turning back. Channel the adrenaline and get the humans back where they belong.
The tunnels seem narrower and darker this time. It looks as if the bugs are trying to dig under the buffer zone, maybe try to come at us from below again. James knows where to go, however, and he keeps us moving at a fast pace. We stop suddenly at an intersection and wait. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. One stray sentry appears from around the corner. James responds by stunning it. He makes sure it stays down and sprays it with the “no fear” stuff before he gives me all its gear and we move on. The spray smells just as badly as everything else, but it keeps the other bugs away. There's no time to check the new equipment out now; time to go.
We go above ground for the last part of the approach. Not much grows here. A few plants are allowed to sprout, then they, too, are eventually devoured. The seeds most likely come from our side of the buffer zone. Further south, there are more living plants. They’re probably poisonous to the bugs, or maybe the smaller ones need fiber in their diet. The waste mounds vary in size, and they all smell worse than anything I’d dealt with before. I don't want to think what makes up those waste piles. Focus on the job at hand.
It doesn’t look much like anything but a holding pen. A few metal and mud structures stand in the middle of the area. One of the structures has solar panels on top; that’s probably the machine room. There are more sentries guarding the pen than we'd anticipated, but Kenny and the other fighters take care of them. There aren't any little insects between the fences this time. That means we need less time giving them orders to disperse, and it’s less likely that something would sound the alarm. Now it's my turn to work. We have twelve minutes left to get everyone out.
“Start with the center parts back to back,” Adam says quietly. The center transmitters each have four extensions on them. “Spread the extensions out so we have some space to move through.”
“Hold up. What about those wires on the ground?”
“Hm. They usually hide those.”
“Is it a trap?”
“Probably not. They'd be out here by now, I think. Just keep going.” Somehow, the transmitters work, and we have a gap in the outer fence. The inner fence is more challenging, but we get a gap there as well without setting off any alarms. Ten minutes 'til the other sentries start coming around.
Still no little bugs skittering around. I am not the only one hoping there are just humans inside. James is excellent at finding the people being held by the critters, but ambushes are not unheard of.
“What do you have on your screen?” James asks.
“Nothing but humans inside,” Rick says.
“No insects at all?”
“There's a few big ones in the far building, but that's it. We're good to go.”
James takes us to the first hut. No problem getting in.
“There are more of us in the other buildings,” Eileen tells James. “And they’ve taken the children.”
“We only have eight minutes to get clear,” Adam says.
“Let’s get moving then.” James takes Adam and Greg to find the other humans. In the meantime, the rest of us get the people to the gap in the fences.
Three minutes to go, we just get sight of James. There are more people than we usually get at one time. They seem to be moving slowly, although they are running for their lives. No children are here. Everyone passes through the gaps, and I take up the rear, disconnecting the electronics and closing the holes in the fences. No alarms go off, so we’re clear of the fences. Now I’m back to my old job: keeping an eye out for insects.
We make it underground without alerting the bugs. “Follow me, but be quiet,” James says. “They can't hear us if you want this to work.”
“What about the children?” Stephanie asks.
“They’re being taken care of,” James tells them. “Keep your hand on the person in front of you so we don’t get lost.” The walk seems endless. Smaller tunnels feed into ours. The walls get smoother, the path more treacherous, yet James's pace quickens. Kenny and I keep watch for any critters following us.