Bourbon, he indeed had. Marie found Zed intensely staring at his terminal, a map of the battle plan they had last reviewed on the Righteous before the present hostilities, lay across the screen. Now, however, the map was alive with color. She could see their present position highlighted just behind a thick blue line that lay intimately south of an equally thick red one. Numbered blocks designated the units on the Conglomeration side, while some more hesitant marks hinted as the presumed strength of the enemy.
It wasn’t the lines that Zed’s eyes were drawn to, but a scatter plot of blotches that drew an irregular trajectory up to and including the Antarian capital. A clock wound up in the corner of the image and as it did, the irregular blots winked out one after another until there were none and the clock cycled back to zero and the dots resurrected. Along with the counting clock there was a buzz. It was not electronic. She could hear it coming from inside Jedediah’s head. It didn’t seem like the bourbon. It was like an idea, or a conclusion. The solution to a puzzle lying right outside his grasp like an aggressive fly that can land on your eye lid, but just somehow manage to stay out of swatting distance.
“What’s shaking Zed?” He hadn’t noticed her standing in the entry, but he paused his playback and gave her a grin and a gander.
“Sup shorty, late night. You looking for a drink?” She was damned if he wasn’t a better mind reader than she was, but who knew. Such talk wasn’t for polite company.
“Don’t call me that Zed, I’m not some sheltered 18 year old you can impress, just pour the Whisky.” She sat down with him at his desk and he pulled out a spare glass. “Just came from Marcus’ tent. He’s as strung out as I’ve ever seen him. Could probably use one too, but considering he lost his fight with the bottle awhile back, I figured it best not to tell him so.”
“Well, you ain’t wrong, on either count. But none of us much better off. I haven’t had a lick of sleep since D-day and I need to. This communications problem is bugging the crap out of me. I feel like if I just went to bed, all the pieces would congeal right here.” He tapped his forehead square in the middle and took a sip from his tumbler. “But I gotta have it pegged and I gotta be ready by the morning. Sleep just going to wreck me for as little as I’d get right now.” Marie dragged her chair across the dirt floor to get a better look at the monitor. She took a slow sip herself and exhaled the airy vapors that remained.
“What’s the problem, If you don’t mind my asking? Supposing its not operationally classified anyway.” Zed put a finger on the scatter plot that extended past their lines.
“This, this is the problem.” He paused until the clock began to make the dots disappear. “You see that? Those dots represent the clusters of Orbital Infantry that managed to land anywhere near their drop zones after Righteous went down. They show up when we pick up their broadcasts here. Then, as you see, one by one, after they pop up, they bloop right back off.” A large group of dots all disappeared at the same time, right after that the display began the cycle all over again. “That last wipe is when we sent an order out for broadcast silence. No EM communication, whatsoever. Just in case thats how they were being hunted. Now of course, that means we have no idea if they’e still there or not. Not until the balloon goes back up tomorrow”.
“Tunnels?” She offered. “What about the tunnels? Last time we were here, this place was rotten with surface tunnels from the old mines. Things the CEC forgot about over years of digging. Place is crawling with them, remember?”
“Can’t be.” He replied. “Shut them all down. All the derelict mine shafts were mapped, collapsed, or other wise filled during the last occupation. I was here. We didn’t plan on letting the locals use them against us ever again. Just, something is up. I just wish we had some good intel. Without Righteous in orbit, or the Lunar outpost, we have no up to date orbital data, no access to the satellite network, and no drones. All we have are the Z’s that made it planetside and those are on rationed fuel until we break out, so our up to date intel is limited to their range. I’m not used to working like this.”
“On so little?” Marie asked. “The bane of a technologically dependent existence I guess? We forget how we used to do it. Oh, Balloons! I just got it! We used to use Balloons! How did I not get that expression before?” Zed smiled.
“Shit, thats it? I didn’t know that either. Are you sure? I gotta read more. Anyway, there is one more thing, can you guess, ms. making connections at 4am?” Marie canted her head to one side, gave a squint.
“Where…are they…going? The O.I.s I mean?” Zed made the finger on nose point gesture, with all she speed and grace his fatigue could muster.
“Yup”. He said with a nod. “These are heavily armed and impenetrably armored soldiers. As far as we know, the Antarian’s don’t have shit that can take down one. You saw how much lead I took yesterday, didn’t scratch. What the hell is out there? Or am I just worrying myself into insomnia?” Marie drained her Whisky and stood up.
“I don’t know. But I’m tired. I guess I’ll go have some quick nightmares about all that and get back to you there, I guess.” She left the tent and Zed waived goodnight to her back. The dots set themselves back up on the screen and slowly knocked themselves back off.
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