Chapter 6

(Mackall Army Airfield, Camp Mackall, North Carolina)

The CH-47 eased in and touched down on the concrete runway, rolling forward just a little as the forward motion of the aircraft died off. The pilot shut it down and the flucka-flucka of the twin rotors died away. While his assistants, a pair of staff sergeants, unloaded the static lines and the rest of the gear; Master Sergeant Paul Martin went over the paperwork for the jump one last time, and filled out the evaluations on the students. The current PL, the student acting as the Patrol Leader, had fucked up the operations order for the mission. He wasn't a bad kid, but he needed to pay more attention to detail.

There would be more like him too, but that wasn't entirely bad. The kid had a qualifying CAP score, but had enlisted anyway. There were more of those entering the military than Martin had expected. He'd thought that since active duty military weren't eligible for extraction there would be a drop-off in enlistments, but there hadn't been. All the services were turning recruits away. The new force levels were being met without relaxing the standards. That applied to the Special Warfare school too. They'd increased the class sizes by forty percent, and had rejected candidates who were better than some who had graduated just a few years before.

Martin had considered getting out, so he could volunteer for the Confederacy. He had a wife and two little kids at home, plus two more under fourteen who lived with his ex-wife. The odds of getting picked up didn't look good though. The way he figured it, the best thing he could do to save his kids was exactly what he was doing. He was training the guys who would train the rest of the country, the ones who would still here when the Swarm arrived. He'd seen the projections. If the Darjee hadn't shown up, they'd been have able to keep fighting for ten years, at most, after the first of the aliens landed. Now they had advance notice of the Swarm's arrival and depending on how things went, they'd have two, three, maybe even four years extra to prepare before the Swarm arrived. Between that and the new technologies, they stood a chance to fight them off.

It was going to be a hard fight though, worse than he'd ever seen; worse than anyone had ever seen probably. There shouldn't be any problem with dehumanizing the enemy. Fighting humans took its toll, but he didn't think shooting three legged lizards would add to his nightmares.

He tucked the paperwork into his map case, a green canvas bag with a shoulder strap, known as a 'fag bag'; picked up his chute and walked down the rear ramp headed for the Rigging Hangar. On the way across the field he pulled out his cell phone to see who had called him during the jump. There had been two calls, one while he was checking their equipment, and then again just as he'd given the 'Go' command. There'd been no way he could have answered either one, and he was a little embarrassed that he'd forgotten to turn it off. At least he'd only had it on vibrate.

The caller ID read 'Confed FltAux - AP073'. Why in the hell would the confederacy call him? That meant more fucking paperwork to fill out. He turned in the parachute, then went to double check that the riggers would have everything ready for a daylight jump the next day. The Chinook would fly out, pick up the team that had jumped tonight, and fly them to another drop zone on the other side of the training area. They'd have to rig up in flight, and wouldn't be told where they were jumping in. He'd be on the ground waiting for them. He'd watch them to see how they handled it, and what they'd do when they realized they were twelve klicks from where they were supposed to be.

He was going over the last of the details when a female voice interrupted. "Sergeant Martin?" One of the riggers, a cute blue-eyed Spec-4 came out of the office at the back of the room. She pushed past the green silk chutes hanging from the ceiling and came around the table. "Sergeant Martin, there's a girl on the phone, she says she's your daughter..."

He looked from her to the officer in charge. "Sorry sir, my daughter is six, I have no idea how she got the number here, my wife doesn't even have it."

Fortunately the lieutenant had the new rubbed off his butter-bar already, he didn't say anything about 'personal calls', just "I guess you better see if anything's wrong. We'll have everything ready here by eleven hundred."

Martin headed for the office. Behind him, the specialist said, "I wonder how she managed to get on the secure line?" but he didn't hear her.

Martin wondered what she was doing awake, it was way past her bedtime. He pushed his way past the parachutes and into the office, and then picked up the phone. "This is Sergeant Martin."

"Daddy?" He didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded familiar.

"Who is this?"

"Daddy, it's me, Chrissy." It sounded like her, but he hadn't seen or heard from her in seven years, so he couldn't be sure. "Why didn't you come see us?"

Martin's throat felt tight. "Chrissy-Baby?"

"Oh Daddy," her voice broke. "I've missed you so much."

Martin blinked away tears, glad no one was in the office. "I've missed you too Chrissy-Baby. I couldn't come see you, the judge wouldn't even let me call." He remembered the calls to his cell phone. "How did you find me?"

"Daddy, I've been picked up. The ship AI found you for me."

His gut twisted at the thought of his baby girl as someone's slave. Still most of the concubines didn't get to contact their families, much less phone them from orbit. "He's a good man?"

"He's the best Daddy, I'm glad I picked him. He's a sponsor now too. He retested here on the ship and talked the AI into bringing everyone; Mom and the other kids, even Aunt Heather and Megan. We're going to have a joint household, it's like being married."

That was something entirely different. He was supposed to be the one keeping her safe, not saying goodbye as she went into harm's way. "I hope you'll be happy together. I always wanted to be the one to give you away, but at least I get to tell you I love you and always will. Did you two join the Marines or the Navy?"

"I know we'll be happy Daddy. Freddie is sooo nice, and he joined the Fleet Auxiliary with me. We're going to build starships together."

"You tell him to take good care of my little girl."

A man's voice answered, he sounded in his late teens or early twenties. "I will sir, you can count on that. I hope you don't mind me asking, but how often did you write Chrissy? Did you ever answer any of her letters?"

Martin hadn't realized how far his ex-wife had gone until he heard the question, but it was instantly clear what she'd done. He tried his best to keep his anger under control, poisoning Molly's relationship with her children wouldn't help anything. "I got two letters from you Chrissy-Baby, I answered both of them and sent you a bunch more. I sent all you kids presents on your birthdays and for Christmas every year."

"AI, is that true?" Chrissy's voice was flat but Martin heard the anger and despair in it anyway. There was a pause and she started to cry. "I'm gonna kill her. AI, get her down here now."

Martin didn't know if she really meant it or not. When she was eight, she'd in all seriousness told him to kill all the bad guys so he could come home. "No!" he shouted, "Don't do it."

Freddie said the same thing. "Wait Baby," he continued, "Don't do anything while you're angry. Think about Paul and Wanda, you don't want to hurt them. She made your dad go away, I understand that. They probably don't really remember him but they'll remember what you do to their mom."

Chrissy didn't say anything, but Martin heard her crying softly.

"Listen Chrissy-Baby," he said, his words coming out in a rush... "I know your mom can be difficult. I loved her for ten years and stayed for four more trying to bring back what we'd had. I lost you because I couldn't make it work. Don't try to get even, life is too short for revenge, especially against someone you love. I know you love her or you wouldn't be hurting so much right now."

"Don't do anything you'll regret later. You're responsible for her now. It's like you are the parent now, it's your job to take care of her. Help her, she needs you now more than ever. Your husband's right, if you can't do it for you or her, do it for Paul and Wanda. I know about the Confederacy. If she can't change the way she behaves, she's going to die. I know her too, if you don't do something, you'll have to live with what happens. Help her, Chrissy-Baby, help her please."