BLUE GENDER
"Children of the Blue"
3. Hell Hath No Fury
Marlene and Junker turned to face the newcomer while Dr. Gamble paid him no mind—he was busy examining Yuji, who was breathing softly. Too softly.
Gunther Gerhardt filled the entryway. He had big, broad shoulders and muscular biceps.
He was one of the infantrymen who had come to Earth with Yuji and Marlene some five years earlier. He had come with them searching for answers and had found a home. Now that home was in ruins.
The dying flames and new campfires lighted his back: night had fallen.
"No sign of any of 'dem," Gunther said as he cradled a compact assault weapon. "Their tracks lead off down da road, just like you said, Cap'."
They did not reply so Gunther turned and left.
Dr. Gamble stood straight.
Marlene waited to hear the news. He saw that she was waiting in anticipation and he told her the truth: "I can't give you a diagnosis or prognosis. Nothing exact, that is. But there's a poison in him. He's running a fever and his white blood cell count is up."
Marlene knew that Gamble's hands were tied. He had only the most rudimentary medical supplies: a microscope, some syringes and basic pain medications.
The villagers had, over time, developed home grown treatments from the treasure chest of the rain forest, but without high-powered chemistry equipment and stocked laboratories they could not take full advantage of the plethora of natural remedies that surrounded them.
"It's like he's fighting an infection," Gamble concluded. "But I can't explain what it is, or what to do."
"What do you need?" Junker questioned.
Marlene was silent. Silent and composed. To them she looked…she looked almost scary.
"I need a nice sized helping of the poison," Gamble told them. "If not a pre-made antidote. You don't make stuff like this without an antidote. Without something…" he scratched his head. "…without something more to go on…I mean, at this rate he's going to burn up in a couple days."
Dr. Gamble looked at Marlene and told her: "I'm sorry. I can't do any—"
"I'll get it for you," Marlene interrupted without looking at him. Her steely stare was looking at something else, something far away from that room.
She spoke to Junker: "I need five volunteers who know how to use an armored shrike. I need them ready to go within the hour."
"What?" Junker was surprised. "What are you—"
"Listen, they already have a good head start on us. What? Forty minutes or so? If we're going to catch them then we need to get moving."
Junker wanted to say more—ask more—but Marlene Angel threw him a very determined stare and that was enough to motivate him.
She leaned over her unconscious lover. Dr. Gamble swore he could see a single tear tracing along her cheek, but she brushed it away quickly as she whispered to Yuji.
"They took away our paradise…now I'll take hell to them. I'll get our son back, Yuji, my love. I'll get you back, too."
She gave him a soft kiss on the forehead then stood.
Gamble was certain that the Marlene Angel he found standing in front of him at that moment was a much different person than the one he had seen carry water, tend gardens, and play soccer with the kids for the past year.
He was right.
***
Marlene lit the last torch in the chamber. The ring of light softly illuminated all but the highest reaches of the cave's ceiling.
Inside the cave were the metal ghosts of her past: The six remaining armored shrikes that had been a part of their return to Earth. Around them were stacks of crates and barrels filled with ammunition, power cells, spare parts, and more.
When they had hidden them in this cave they had hoped that they would rust and whither into dust as unwanted relics. Yet still, they knew that someday—somehow—they might be needed again. That's why Yuji, Marlene, and the others had taken care in storing the mechs.
Marlene was drawn to one dusty locker at the foot of one of the shrikes. She flipped open the lid and looked in at the contents.
The uniform still fit—despite five years and a baby; Marlene was in as good a shape as ever. Tending fields, hauling water, and raising a young child had forced her to stay in peek condition. They all were—those who weren't in good shape died.
She zipped the coveralls over the red tunic, then pulled brand new, green upper body armor from a storage container in the trunk.
She could feel a long dormant part of her rumble with joy as it felt itself being raised to the surface again; all while another part of her wept silently for losing the innocence they had worked so hard to build.
She wondered—she wondered if that was how Yuji had felt in the Double Edge, with his B-Cells activating and bringing a new, nasty personality to the surface. She wondered if she could become the cold soldier that she needed to be now and still someday return to the loving mother she had been for five years.
Then for the final touch…the final symbolic return to her old self.
Marlene Angel pulled back her hair and slipped on the black bands. Her double ponytails dangled to her shoulder blades.
More cases, more trunks; heavy assault rifles, pistols, spare clips, explosive charges, grenades--a variety of ordinance that had sat quietly in the cave waiting to be summoned again.
She could almost hear the weapons laughing at her, as if they had known that someday man would come looking for them again. As if they had known that their sleep was only to be temporary.
It all made Marlene hate their attackers that much more.
***
Marlene walked with a determined stride to the gathering of volunteers. Each had re-supplied and familiarized themselves with the shrikes. Each had found their old uniform and armor or taken fresh sets from the stockpile.
Now they waited on the outskirts of the village for their final orders. It was the thick of night, but there could be no more delays. Not if they were to save Yuji. Not if they were to catch Takashi's kidnappers.
Marlene walked in front of them and took note of each.
Captain William Junker—she knew from his stories and his calm demeanor under fire that he was a veteran. She also knew Gunther Gerhardt; he was not the most experienced shrike pilot but he had courage and strength.
Then there was Darren Moss and "Pistol" Jones; both had been shrike pilots on the return mission.
Moss—a thin black man—was a solid veteran of many campaigns. She had watched him grin as he had reacquainted himself with his old mecha.
"Pistol" Jones' nickname came from the dual handguns he preferred over rifles when out of the mech.
He was cock-sure, that was true; but that attitude made him take to the mission with enthusiasm, even if he was leaving behind a wife and two children.
And finally there was Denise Karr. A short brunette in her late 20's who had been a support technician for an advanced mecha platoon. She could pilot a shrike well enough, but she had never been a front line soldier.
As for the original pilots other than Moss and Jones, one had been killed earlier that day in the surprise attack; the others had died either from illness or injury in the years since their arrival.
Paradise, Marlene had often noted, came with a price tag.
She surveyed her crew.
They would do, she thought, they just need to stay out of my way.
***
The tracking party of six white armored shrikes roared through the dark.
Night vision that fed off the star filled clear sky above helped navigate the main road. But that dirt road was overgrown with trees.
While this made it difficult to move fast quietly, it also made it easy for Marlene to track their quarry. So many fallen branches could only come from the escaping carrier truck. Tire tracks were also easy to spot, even with the night vision.
No, their targets either weren't afraid of being followed or were in such a hurry that they didn't care. Marlene wasn't sure which answer was correct.
Maybe both.
Her forearm-mounted computer offered a map of the region. The GPS signal still worked—not all of the orbital satellites were dead. Some, she supposed, had plenty of onboard power to keep operating indefinitely as long as their orbits didn't need adjusting or maps re-calibrating.
"Hold!" She called into her head set.
The mechs, to varying degrees, came to a halt.
"What is it?" Junker asked.
Marlene lowered the cockpit of her ride and exited. Junker did the same.
They were standing on the road on a barren hilltop. In front of them and below was a canopy of trees barely visible across the dark landscape.
"Look, here," she spoke to Junker but it was apparent to him that she was really talking to herself. She had already decided on something.
She explained what her map saw that here eye's couldn't: "This road descends into a valley—a tight valley—between two rock formations. Lots of jungle."
"So?" Denise Karr's voice came over the headset. They could all hear Marlene's words.
"So," Junker finished their leader's thought. "So it's a perfect place for a trap."
Marlene looked at the darkness. She could feel them out there.
"A trap? Are you nuts, boss? They're trying to bug out of here," Moss let his thoughts be known.
"No," Marlene countered. "Listen to me. They hit us good—they planned this out. They'd leave a rear guard to stop any pursuit. It's what I'd do."
"Me too," Junker agreed.
"Then what should we do? Walk into the trap?" Karr was sarcastic.
"More or less," Marlene told them.
***
The four mercenaries—spread into two sets of two--sat amidst the trees of the jungle. They had been tensed for nearly an hour, ever since they had first heard the sound of approaching engines.
The mines were placed. The fields of fire were ready. The road was covered. They just needed the prey to fall into the trap. Once it was done, they too could take to the road.
Of course they hadn't been expecting armored shrikes but no matter: Two of their number carried portable rocket launchers. They would be used after the first of the mechs hit the minefields.
It was going to be easy.
The sounds of the approaching enemy fighters echoed along the dark road once more. Far ahead, in the distance, there was some sort of light moving. Could the mechs really be travelling with their spotlights on? Where they so unsuspecting of the trap that lay ahead?
The mercs weren't used to fighting trained soldiers. The idea that the tables had already been turned never entered their minds…
…something rolled down the slope behind two of the ambushers.
"Hey…what was—"
The night exploded with shrapnel and fire. Two of the mercenaries were immediately shredded to bits.
The remaining two overcame their shock and dove for cover, but one never made it. A solitary bullet had found its mark in his forehead.
***
Marlene Angel darted down the slope further. Her night vision goggles told her exactly where the last mercenary was hidden. She could also see the basic ambush configuration that had been set on the road.
"Listen to me!" She called to her enemy.
His response was to fire from his machine gun. The bullets scattered wildly above her head. He did not have night vision.
"Listen! I don't want to fight you," she called out. "We can make a deal! We can make a deal!"
She saw him pull a grenade from his belt.
"No! Don't do it!"
He stepped out from the tree with all intentions of hurling the ordinance at her position. She had no choice.
Marlene cut him down where he stood. His body fell then she took cover as the grenade exploded in the dead hand.
She issued orders over her headset for the others to move off the road and go along the mountainside to avoid what had to be mines and traps. In the meantime she rushed to the remaining bodies of her enemy.
She grabbed them one at a time with both hands and shook them, hoping for a sign of life.
"Where is my son! Where is he! Damn you!"
She tossed the bodies down hard.
The first fingers of sunlight began to peek over the eastern horizon.
***
"Well there we have it," Junker was looking through a set of binoculars.
Ahead of them in a wide-open area, was an old supply depot complete with storage tanks and two rows of warehouses.
But that wasn't the most important part.
Two air transports waited on the concrete tarmac. The one furthest away from Marlene and Junker's observation point was taking a nice long drink from a refueling vehicle.
Two red and white shrikes patrolled the perimeter. A handful of infantry sat in groups in the shade under the transports. There were no fixed guard positions to the base. In fact, it seemed old and neglected.
Marlene assumed that it was a temporary base at best—one used as the staging area for the assault on the village. Now it was the evacuation point.
The fuel truck finished with the first bird and drove to the second.
A group of people, mostly red and white clad mercenaries, appeared from one of the warehouse buildings and walked quickly toward the fueled transport.
Marlene recognized two people in this group.
Through her field glasses she could see the tall man's scar. She could also see that instead of the hooded tunic he had worn to infiltrate their home he was now wearing a crimson military uniform complete with four stars.
The second person was even more familiar. It was her son, Takashi. He was being led, forcibly, by the hand of the tall man. Led toward the open doors of the completely refueled and ready-to-go air ship.
Junker spoke: "Marlene, wait, let me bring up the shrikes—"
"Bring everyone up," she said as she rose to her feet and started to move forward.
"Wait!"
"I'm going to kill them," she told him. "I'm going to kill every last one of them."
NEXT FACTOR:
4. Double Edge
Dr. Gamble: "What do you mean you didn't find an antidote? Not even a sample of the poison? Marlene, it doesn't matter what else you found. Yuji is going to die. There is nothing I can do. Yuji is going to die."