"Hey, hey, little girl! Give us a little leg!" The catcalls, even through her dulled mind, made Susan cringe inwardly. But showing them what they wanted was better than another beating. She didn’t mind beatings, but they always picked someone else to assault for her disobedience. Dutifully, Susan lifted up a leg and pulled her ragged knee-high skirt up close to her hip. The guards hooted and whistled.

She stayed in that position, unmoving. The alpha suppression field that was used on them during the night severely restricted free will and initiative. She wanted to lower her skirt and return to work, but needed to be told to. Sarah walked by her, casting dim and uninterested eyes at Susan. Aaron followed, doing the same.

"Okay, little girl, get back to work." Colonel Forncheth’s voice pierced her addled mind, enabling her muscles to do what her soul had cried out for. Being the smallest of the prisoners, she was called little girl by all NATech personnel, even the women. Forncheth spoke again, this time to the guards.

"Get on with your duties! If you push Lendler outside, I shall put you in there with them." He’d do it, too, Susan thought dully as she picked up her cutting tools and trudged after the others. Shortly after arriving here, one of the guards had pushed Kate outside of her will suppressant and she had broken free, injuring several guards before being subdued. That night, the offending guard was in the barracks with them, terrified of what was coming. By morning, he wasn’t terrified anymore, just obedient. Three days later, he was dead.

The guards broke up and began overseeing the work on the current project. The prisoners were never told what it was, but it seemed to be a physical shielding layer for a fusion plant. It was never anything difficult or complicated. Having much of their higher intelligence turned off by the field, the prisoners were capable of only simple, repetitive labor. Susan stopped in front of her section and began cutting the two meter thick metal with a low intensity laser, penetrating only a millimeter with each pass. A fully operating industrial laser could cut out the pattern in less than a minute, but then there would be nothing for the prisoners to do.

The prisoners. Once the Resistance’s elite 3rd Regiment, they were now little more than robots. As part of the long process to crush the will, memory was left intact while endorphin production was shut down. The result was a knowledge of what they had been, but no hope to ever return. Nonetheless, with little else to do but follow the same simple pattern for sixteen hours, Susan was unable to keep her mind from wandering down into the past, to the time when this endless nightmare had begun.

*    *    *

There was a rain of popping sounds from the seven hovercraft as Mike kicked in the ion engines simultaneously. Twenty seconds until the hovs would enter phase. There was a burst of light from the armory as lasers from Marks’ group traced their way across the hanger. Susan’s spine tingled when she heard Abdih’s screech as his men poured from the mess area, splitting into two groups, one to the hovs, one to the armory. Eight seconds to go. Haltemen followed Abdih’s, focusing his group of twenty or so on the hovs where the bulk of NATech’s squads were, confused at the hov ignition but gamely fighting on. Two seconds left. Susan gripped the guns tight, then started as Abby slapped her on the ass and smiled. She laughed back at Abigail above the booming gunfire and rose to her knees, firing her weapons to give Abigail supporting cover. Time. Abigail jumped to her feet and ran for the rifle that lay beside Lena’s dead body.

Susan was firing steadily at the hovs when suddenly they shimmered slightly as they entered phase mode. Knowing she had ten seconds, Susan began firing repeatedly directly at the hovs. The beams passed through, ripping into the NATech elite forces behind them.

There was a brilliant flash and concussion. One of the big guns was firing into the hanger! Susan strained to look through the pops and afterimages that coated her sight. She wanted to fire, but couldn’t discern dogs from NATech. She dropped her two guns and picked up the other two, one a slug gun.

Her vision cleared sufficiently, Susan brought up the slug gun and began emptying the fifteen shot magazine, coolly firing into every NATech target available.

And there were a lot of them. NATech shock troops, eight to ten cohorts, were flooding the hanger. Fortunately the punch gun had done even more damage to their own troops, trapped behind phased vehicles and fully exposed to the concussion, with the 3rd laying down a withering cross fire. She saw four converge on Sergeant Abdih, so Susie quickly fired three times, killing two and dropping a third. Her clip was emptied with the third shot, so she laid it down and brought up the energy gun.

Too late. Tomah was bleeding profusely from the neck and would be dead in seconds. Susie burned off his attacker’s face, then turned toward the...

Again there was a concussive blast as the punch gun exploded in the hanger. Susan knew it was an all out extermination raid, for NATech had no regard for their own. They were heavily armored, but those that were too close to the blast point died instantly. To NATech, it was worth some of their best troops to utterly destroy the 3rd.

Susan looked over toward Abby and felt her heart pound. The girl was slumping down to the ground, having been thrown against the wall by the punch gun. As she collapsed, her jacket jumped several times from slugs. NATech had switched off energy because of the chaotic nature of the fight.

Chaos was the operative word. Susan picked up and reloaded her slug gun, then jumped over the pile of supplies she had used for cover. Halteman was on one knee, his other leg blood soaked, pulling the trigger of his pistol with incredible speed, then reloading in an instant. The effect was a nearly unbroken roll of booms, every shot seeming to find a target.

Three more were closing in on his left flank, so Susan took them out with her pistol. Then kneeling at right angles next to him, the two continued firing, covering everyone else’s withdrawal to the armory. Inside the room, behind the counter, came a soul freezing mechanical scream. Marks had opened up with his high speed slug gun.

Using the powered heavy cyclical gun the way a farmer would use his scythe, Marks made broad, sweeping arcs with his weapon. An entire cohort of shock troops, still clustered together, ceased to exist in a single heartbeat. He swung to the hanger mouth. The sun, blocked by wave after wave of troops, suddenly poked through as those same troops either broke formation or dropped to the ground, coating the hanger ramp with a slick sheen of blood. An attack hov screamed down the ramp and was caught in Marks’ fire. The side shredded instantly, despite the heavier shielding, and the engine lost its stasis field, venting ion gas into the hanger. The hov, all personnel aboard riddled to doll rags, crashed to the hanger floor and screeched its way toward Susan and Greg. Susan leapt out of the way.

Halteman didn’t. He staggered to his one good leg, then jerked as a slug caught him in the shoulder. Staggered, he was unable to dodge the onrushing hov. Knowing it was hopeless, he coolly fired four more times at NATech soldiers before being smashed by the now burning hovercraft.

Susan jumped forward, knowing he was dead, but still wanting to help. A hand grabbed her and she went limp, knowing there was a knife in the other hand. Caught unawares, the NATech soldier foolishly tried to change his attack. It cost him the last two seconds of his life as Susan shoved the gun under her left arm and fired five times, hitting him with four of the slugs, the last one in the head as he fell. Not bothering to check on him, Susan finished the last few steps to the armory and jumped over the counter, hoping they’d look before firing.

They looked. No one shot her. Susan looked quickly over the personnel still effective, then turned toward the entrance, bringing her gun up. More hovercraft were coming down the ramp and there was another heavy...

The second punch gun fired, this time directly into the armory. Susan felt all the air crushed from her lungs and everything became red, then gray, then black.

Someone was slapping her in the face. She was on her knees and being held up. She raised her hands to defend weakly, but had them brushed aside. Rough hands went over her body, removing her armor and weapons. She opened her eyes.

The fight was over. Her attacker was an elite NATech shock trooper. He had just finished his efficient search of her body, and it was obvious he took no pleasure in it. He was just following common sense procedures. He pulled her up by her torn blouse and threw her sideways toward the doorway.

"She’s clean, concussed and partially aware. Toss her into the prisoner transport right away, before she comes to completely."

She felt herself being yanked to her feet and dragged to a waiting phase hov. Unable to resist because of the concussion, she looked around in a daze.

NATech was in the midst of dismantling the base. Two soldiers were looking over the bodies, killing wounded dogs, and calling for medical assistance for wounded NATech personnel. There were at least one hundred and fifty NATech in the hanger.

She felt her guard/escort come to a stop as a hov passed in front of them. She could have resisted at that point, and did half rise to her feet. But the guard slugged her in the jaw and she slumped back down, still conscious but otherwise ineffective. The guard turned back to the hov which had stopped in front of them. The driver and an officer standing beside it were having a heated discussion.

"You are not authorized to remove prisoners from this compound!" the officer insisted.

"Yes, I am, Captain. Here’s my authorization."

A pause. "Geez! What’s _he_ want with her?"

"That’s none of your damned business, Captain. And what he does with her is none of my damned business, either. It _is_ my business to follow his orders."

"Yeah, I can’t blame you. All right. I’ll record her as killed in action. Just do me a favor, huh? Keep your people under control until after you’re out of my sight, okay? You’d think they hadn’t been with a woman in months."

The hov pulled away and Susan was carried to the prisoner carrier and tossed in, still dazed from the hit and from the punch gun.

She looked around the dark interior. Raul was laying there, his left arm looking unnatural. Marks was there as well, and perhaps two dozen others. She looked around but didn’t see Abby. Strangely unmoved because of the concussion, she sagged against the bulkhead.

"That’s it, Lieutenant! Everyone else is dead or too badly injured." He laughed shortly. "Which means everyone else is dead or dead."

"Very well, Sergeant. Lock it up and engage the field."

The door slammed shut and magnetic bolts locked them in. Dim blue lighting illuminated the interior. They felt a lurch, then started moving up the hanger ramp and out onto the desert.

There was a barely audible whine and Susan felt a surge of fear. They were using an alpha suppression field! Scared, she covered her ears, as did most of the others. It was a nearly useless gesture, but the only one available. Within minutes, their brains would have gone through the equivalent of a sonic lobotomy, limiting their intelligence and suppressing their will power. Their only hope now was a miracle.

They had traveled for no more than a minute when that miracle almost happened. Even through the now insistent tone of the field, they heard another, louder scream of sound, followed by a dull boom. A few seconds later, the concussion rocked the hov and made it slew to one side. The pilot seemed certain to lose control, but managed to keep on even enough keel to prevent capsizing. He righted the hov and accelerated quickly.

There was a second wave that hit the hov moments later, but it did little more than rock the vehicle, causing Susan to grab instinctively for support. She should have covered her ears again, but she didn’t really want to any more. Instead, she began rocking with the hov’s gentle movement, and stared uncaring, unknowing, as the field drove into her mind, boring deeper... deeper...

*    *    *

The work shift had ended sometime while Susan was drifting in her memories, and one of the guards was pushing her in the direction of the compound. He leaned his mouth close to her ear.

"Another three or four months, little girl, and your brain will be permanent mush. Then you won’t be good for work anymore. But we’ll find something you’re good for, won’t we?" He whispered a few explicit suggestions.

She stared at him dumbly, unable to respond, then fell into line behind the one armed Raul and walked quietly to the mess hall. They stood at a long table and quietly ate and drank their meal. They were served only bland, tasteless food, since anything other than providing nutrition would be wasted on them.

They were taken to the showers where they undressed and showered. Again, it was pointless to provide for more than the absolute essentials, so the water was cold and everyone showered together. Standing beside Billy, Susan should have felt some shyness or discomfort, but there was none. Nor was there for Billy. Neither cared.

They dressed into the clean clothes that they would work in tomorrow and were herded to bed. Although everyone had their own mat, there was only one barracks.

No sooner had they laid down than a guard walked over to the switch and activated the suppression field. She lay there quietly, waiting for the slight jolt that always accompanied an increase in the field.

The jolt came and she started her little game. Whenever the field was increased, she always tried to remember as much as she could, to exercise her mind as a way to resist the conditioning and retain her intelligence. She counted to ten, then a hundred, then two hundred. She ran through the alphabet, first forward, then backwards. There had been some other exercises after that, but she had forgotten them. There only remained one more: Spell her name three times.

S-u-s-a-g-i...R-l-u-s-a-n...L-i-t-s-u-s-a-t-l-e. Satisfied she had passed her tests, at least for one more night, she went to sleep.

*    *    *

"Barrett! We’ve got a group coming in for you to check on."

Philip Barrett groaned and rolled out of bed. Unlike his fellow dogs, Barrett had his own quarters. And unlike his comrades, his mind was in no way conditioned. Finally, unlike his friends, Barrett’s hell was not diminished because of the numbing effects of alpha suppression.

Barrett was a prisoner because of his loyalty. Loyalty to his oath, loyalty to his comrades, loyalty to the Resistance. As a zombie, he had no way of helping them. With him at his medical best, there stood a greater chance that the 3rd would be rescued.

It was a chance that had diminished greatly, at least in his mind. He had worked hard at keeping his friends in the best possible health, but was slowly losing the battle. Given an opportunity to escape the suppression field now, Barrett was sure everyone would regain all cognitive abilities. But another three months, four at the most, and that opportunity would be gone, and he’d only be caring for NATech slaves. What would he do then? But there was still, despite all that, a slender hope.

*    *    *

The hope blossomed quite unexpectedly during a conversation he’d had with Forncheth only four nights previously. He had lightheartedly insulted the commandant when it was suggested he shift his medical practice to the more proper NATech clinic.

"Come now, Doctor. Surely you can see the futility in continuing to hope for rescue," Forncheth had chided him. "Not only has such a rescue never occurred, it most definitely is not going to occur with the 3rd. Everyone, including your precious TAU, thinks you were destroyed by the same weapons assault that destroyed 15th, 47th and 83rd NATech brigades."

"What weapons assault? What are you talking about, man?" Barrett had hoped to goad the man into making a slip. He’d had enough to drink to give him that hope.

"You haven’t heard?" The colonel seemed surprised. "No, I suppose you hadn’t. Well, I can remedy that. Computer!" he shouted. "Access Colonel Forncheth, Level Four limited six. Single wall display."

The far wall faded away and a simple screen appeared.

"Search for and display mission against the 3rd Regiment of the Resistance that occurred on June 15th, 2679."

The screen dutifully displayed the data, and Barrett read for the first time about the complete annihilation of the base only moments after their prisoner transport had left. He had no idea what could cause such a devastating attack, nor did the report. With suddenly ignited excitement, he did have an idea who could cause it, though. Like Susan, Doctor Barrett had witnessed the exchange between the NATech officer and the hov driver. Unlike Susan, who’d been on her knees, Barrett was standing and able to look into the open air hov and see Abigail’s body lying on the deck, one of the soldiers already starting to undress her. This account was proof to him that she had somehow survived, and that this attack was what she would call payback. And payback, Abigail always laughed, was a bitch.

It was comforting to know she was safe, but it was also comforting because if she could, she would find them. If only he could send out some sort of signal. He had an idea. He turned away from the screen, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, yes, Colonel. I’m sure it says exactly what NATech wants it to say. Excellent propaganda to demoralize the prisoners and build up NATech personnel."

"You are calling me a liar, Doctor?" Forncheth inquired softly.

"Eh? Not at all, Colonel! I know you to be a man of your word. I’m calling that report a liar. The source is not one I would trust."

"You have a better source?"

"Not better, but one I would put a little more faith in. The Anchorage Herald has a small underground Resistance newserver that would or would not verify your story."

"Then give me the puterverse location and I’ll show it to you."

Barrett laughed, refilling the colonel’s glass. "I think not, Colonel! Nothing would be gained for me, and you would have NATech shut down that server in a moment. No, it’s not worth the risk."

"Perhaps if you accessed it then?"

Barrett stopped his laugh and looked at the colonel long and hard. "Why would you do that, Colonel? I admit, I only need level one access as it’s available to anyone with the password. But what’s to be gained?"

"Nothing, Doctor! Nothing at all! But what’s to be lost? Must everything be a game of win something, lose something? Here. I shall give you access and allow you to use your password." The colonel called up a keyboard and offered it to Barrett.

Barrett stepped up and looked at it. He glanced at Forncheth. "You understand that the password is good only once? That you’ll not be able to trace it?"

"Frankly, Doctor, I could not care less about a two byte Resistance newserver on the other side of the world. But this conversation is interesting. Please."

"Very well. Access, Philip Barrett, Level one."

The screen, still active, shifted and dimmed. Barrett typed in his password and was soon scanning the news article referring to the incident, and verifying the colonel’s account. The colonel, for his part, was being very gracious in victory. Barrett turned off the screen, apologized to him, then allowed the conversation to drift to other subjects. Though he remained subdued on the surface for the remainder of the evening, inside he knew he had given his charges the best possible chance from his single access.

*    *    *

Barrett finished his long walk to the remote warehouse building that served as his medical facility and mounted the steps. He pulled the door closed behind him quickly; even in the late spring, these Australian nights could get chilly on the southern coasts. He stepped through a small entryway and into the main room. Ten meters up, dim industrial lighting illuminated the group of men inside.

It was a motley crew that awaited him. All four carried the deep red plasma burns that told him most of the story in a single glance. Their hov engine casing had cracked, pouring hot plasma into the interior. It was their poor luck that it had happened this close to a concentration camp. Three guards, who were undoubtedly feeling less than cheerful from the loss of sleep, stood watch.

Ignoring them for a moment, Barrett walked to the far side of the large room and checked on his one patient. To give at least a little privacy, the corner bed was partitioned off with blankets strung on rope. Barrett stepped quietly through, the injured men and guards watching him closely.

Lying on the bed was Kate. She was pale and sweaty. Her eyes were burning with fever. Fever and fear. Under the blanket, a small mound rose from her middle. He sat on the stool beside the bed, smiling and taking her pulse. She smiled back.

"Hey, Doc." Her breath was labored enough that just speaking two words caused a fit of coughing.

"Shhh. Don’t talk, Kate. I’m just here to help some injured men, and thought I’d look in on you, first." Her pulse was strong, but racing.

"Thanks. I suppose this beats working in the cutter, huh?" She paused to cough again. "So. Any reprieve from our commandant yet?"

Barrett shook his head. "No, not yet. But we can always hope. Well, you seem to be a little better," he lied. "Let’s take a look at your child, shall we?" He pulled down the blanket and pulled up her work blouse - hospital clothing was a luxury - and began a fetal examination.

The child was doing well, much better than the mother. And worlds better than the father, when it came to that. Kate had been raped only days after arriving. The man was placed in the prisoners barracks as punishment, and subjected to the suppression field. When the prisoners found out three days later what had happened, he was found dead outside the barracks. It was the last act of aggression the dogs of the 3rd Regiment made before succumbing completely to mind control.

After Barrett determined Kate had been impregnated, she was shifted to the infirmary for the duration of the pregnancy. In an odd twist of unintentional morality, NATech did not tolerate the injury or death of an unborn child. It felt that the child was a citizen and potential consumer, and NATech was, after all, a business.

Unfortunately, that consideration did not necessarily extend to the mother. Especially if the mother was a Resistance dog. So Barrett was put in the extremely difficult position of watching Kate placed in a suppression field - albeit a much lighter one than her comrades were subjected to - then jumping to help repair the damage.

Finishing the examination, Barrett leaned back and sighed. The child would survive, the mother would not. This was in keeping with NATech policy, which saw this as a profitable exchange of one corrupted soul for one consumer. Nonetheless, he smiled at Kate.

"The baby’s doing fine, Kate. Now get some sleep. I’ll increase your medication for this evening. Your getting a full night’s sleep is worth the minimal risk." He made the appropriate adjustments to the weak uv field. "Well, off to see those poor men."

"Poor men?" Kate’s eyes were already dulling as the inferior but quick acting drug took effect.

"Yes. They’re not Resistance or NATech. Probably just some civilians who had the foul luck to have engine trouble in a restricted region. They shouldn’t have been anywhere near here, but that doesn’t justify their having to stay here for the rest of their lives. It’s these kind of services that make me really wonder if I’m being faithful to my Hippocratic oath." He crossed a hand in front of his eyes. "I’m sorry, Kate. I shouldn’t be downloading my problems onto you. I’m just..."

He broke off because Kate had drifted off into a fitful sleep. He looked at her briefly, then turned away. A terrible waste. He walked purposely toward his new patients, smiling tiredly.

"Well, gentlemen, let’s take a look at those burns, shall we?"

*    *    *

"Sergeant? They’re in."

Sergeant Moss leaned over the young woman’s shoulder and glanced at the holodisplay. Corporal Yashimoto had been treated with a micraural wash and his entire body was able to act as an extremely limited thermal viewer. He could make out four untagged images, three behind his men, and one up close and in contact with Takari. His actions seemed to indicate he was a physician. There was a dim smudge at the edge of the readout. He pointed to it.

"What do you think that is, Jennie?"

"I think it’s another patient, Sergeant. Doctor Barrett walked over there when he first arrived and spent about five minutes with her."

"Her?"

"I think so. Look at this." Jennie shifted her hands slightly, zooming the display onto the smudge. To Moss, it now looked like a bigger smudge.

"Ummmm..." he prompted.

"Sorry. See that slightly intense, slightly separate glow?" He didn’t, but Jennie obviously did. She was still fairly new to the unit, only three months served, but she’d already picked up a reputation for being right more than wrong. "I think it’s a fetus, Sergeant. I believe the patient is a pregnant woman."

Moss nodded. "And her being there would be within NATech SOP. All right, we’ll have to crowd in a little closer." He clapped Jennie on the shoulder. "Good work, Jennie." She continued to study the display, but her ears burned with the compliment.

He turned to the activated terminal behind the copilot’s seat. Private Flanagan was accessing, the look on his face was slightly stunned. Moss stepped into the field.

The hov faded away, turning into a huge game board, occupied by himself, Flanagan, and a small, incredibly bright creature that flitted from colored square to colored square. At each jump, the square took on a unique feature, color and smell.

"How’s it coming, Dave?"

Flanagan started and turned toward him.

"Oh! I’m sorry, sir! I was caught up in Kiki’s work. Isn’t it something?"

"It sure is. But Dave?" He turned with eager and slightly nervous eyes. Like Jennie, Dave was painfully young and new. "Don’t call me sir. You do that in front of the Lieutenant and she’ll never let me hear the end of it."

"Sorry, si.. uh, Sergeant!"

"Don’t get so flustered, kid. You’re doing fine. Let’s see how Kiki’s doing." Kiki had apparently reached a stopping point and was bouncing over to them.

"Hiya, guys! I’m just about finished, Len. I’ve got the phase calibration matched to all but four of the mines. They’re older versions and are starting to fail, causing them to fluctuate too much."

"How closely are we matched, Kiki? You know it has to be within one picohertz."

She laughed. "Piece o’ cake, Sarge! I’ve got our field matched."

"Matched? Perfectly?" he said, a little stunned. He looked at the geometric shapes floating over the board, unable to discern that she’d accomplished anything.

"Uh-huh. It’s not too hard, really. Once I determined the link between the phase modulation and the surrounding magnetic fields, then coupled it with the neuron energy signatures, it was a cinch to cross integrate."

"Uhh, thanks for the compliment, Kiki," Moss interrupted. "I’m flattered that you even _think_ I understand any of that. Your word’s good enough for me." She smiled, her face lighting up the entire area. "So we’re ready to go?"

"We, as Abby says, are ready to rock."

"Very well. Let’s lock it up and lock it down."

*    *    *

"What the devil are you men doing out in this forsaken part of Australia?" Barrett asked as he examined the first man.

"Well, we’d heard the stories about the rock that hit Adelaide having a high gold content, so we thought we’d head down.." His voice tapered off as Barrett stared at him in disbelief.

"You’re joking. Don’t you know this is a restricted area? NATech’s closed this entire area, from Port Augusta down to Melbourne Spaceport."

"Sure," he shrugged, "but people come in here all the time to mine the rock. And since the stardrives were vaporized on reentry, there’s no radiation. If our engine hadn’t destabilized the containment casing, NATech would’ve never.. Hey!"

The man jerked back as the balm, applied none too gently by a disgusted Barrett, worked its way into his burns.

"Hold still! I’ve got your friends to treat as well. Besides, you’d best get used to hardships."

"What do you mean, Doc?" asked the man standing behind Barrett's patient.

"Yeah. What’s NATech gonna do to us?" interjected the third nervously. "We’re just miners looking for some quick creds."

"Try explaining that to the base commandant," Barrett said dryly. "For all he knows, you’re Resistance agents, hoping to break out..."

"I think that’s enough talk, Doctor," the guard nearest the door, a corporal, said roughly. "These men will be treated by you and released." Barrett snorted and his patient looked at him with eyes widening in realization.

"You’re not going to let us go!" he yelled. "You’re going to keep us in this concentration camp, aren’t you?"

"Now whoever said this was a concentration camp?" laughed one guard. "We just happen to be a vacation ranch for zombies."

"NO! NO!" The man pushed Barrett back and jumped to his feet, backing away slowly from the suddenly watchful guards, three guns leveled at him. The corporal sneered at him.

"That’s enough of that. You took your chance and you blew it. Come onto NATech property without permission and you become NATech property. Besides, it’s not all that bad," the corporal added with mock consolation. "After the first week or so, the alpha fields kinda lessen your problems."

It was too much for the man to hear. He dropped to his knees and began crying.

"You can’t! I’m married! I have two little kids at home. Two.. little..." he sobbed, falling to his hands. All three guards looked at him with disgust, lowering their rifles at the now harmless target.

The guard closest to the other three miners suddenly choked and gurgled, the sound nearly drowned out by the clatter of his rifle striking the floor. The other miners had begun ruthlessly dismantling the NATech soldiers.

Cursing himself for giving their prisoners this desperate opportunity, the corporal swung his rifle around, bringing it up. He was surprised to see not desperation in their eyes, but determination. Realization dawned and he swung back around toward the sobbing man, who by no coincidence was now in a perfect flanking position.

He wasn’t sobbing anymore. He had launched himself from his hands and knees and was closing in quick. His scything foot caught the corporal’s rifle, knocking it up just as it discharged, sending the thin beam into and through the roof. A deep, strident tone that signaled weapons discharge filled the entire camp.

The miner had followed through with his kick and was now engaging hand to hand. The corporal tried to jerk the gun up to hit his attacker, but they were too close. The miner caught the rifle under his arm and use the leverage to pull back on it. The corporal held tight, then realized his mistake. He’d devoted his attention to defending the weapon and not himself. The miner’s fist shot in at his unprotected throat. There was a thin gleam of metal between the miner’s fingers.

The corporal expected the blow to be painful, but in fact he felt very little, just a sharp tugging and then warmth all over his body, accompanied by sleepiness. He understood in the last moments before his life blood spilled from his slashed jugular that he and his men had never really had a chance against them. He took no consolation in the knowledge that he was the last of the three to die.

Barrett stood back, stunned at what had happened in front of his eyes. Less then ten seconds had passed, and three men were now dead. One of the untreated men was rubbing his arm gingerly where a thin scratch irritated one of his burns, but otherwise they were no worse than before the fight. The slaughter, rather.

"Doctor Barrett?" the recently sobbing miner said. "I’m Corporal Takari Yashimoto, Company C of the 179th. I and my men have been sent in to extract you."

The paralysis wore off as Barrett took in the statement. Hope sprang up, then faded. He shook his head sadly.

"I’m sorry, Corporal Yashimoto, but it’s not possible. Even if we could get out of this building, we’ve no hov.."

"Our own hov is now coming alongside. It should pull alongside the west wall in less than a minute."

"And then what, Corporal? Escape on the surface isn’t even worth considering. And there is a phased mine field underneath the entire compound."

"We’re going through the mine field, Doctor."

He stared at him. The corporal seemed quite sane, but Barrett checked anyway. "Are you insane, man?! What are the odds of navigating a phased mine field? You’re welcome to try, and I hope you make it. But I’m not ready to die yet; I have too many patients to care for, which is ultimately the reason I’m turning you down."

"First, Doctor, I’m not giving you the option. You are coming with us. Second, your staying here without hope is not treatment, it’s caretaking of what will be no more than NATech property in a few months."

"We’ve got contact, Corporal." One of the other men was standing watch at the clinic window, a hand clamped to his ear. Barrett realized he had a micro comlink buried in his hand. "Decoy hov in one minute. Evac hov in four minutes."

Yashimoto turned his head. "Thank you, Mayberry. What are our NATech playmates doing?"

Mayberry peered out the window. The compound was flooded with light. "They don’t know what they’re doing. There’s about twenty of them, all armed. But they’re running around, looking for someone to start the movement to the clinic." He cracked a grin, which became a half wince at the pain his scorched face caused. "I don’t imagine guarding mind-doped dogs keeps you in combat condition."

"I don’t imagine. Keep your eyes open." Yashimoto turned back to Barrett. "Anyway, Doctor; third, the minefield is not going to be an obstacle. Finally, the reason it won’t be an obstacle, and the reason why you’re coming with us, and the reason why leaving will help the 3rd is the same: We need you to help Abigail Wyeth. One of her constructs has matched our phases, so we can come through the minefield, then leave the same way. And we’ve started the framework to get the 3rd out of here within the next two months. But every effort is wasted if you don’t come with us."

The stunned look was back on Barrett’s face. He’d hoped his access would generate some action, but he never expected anything this fast or this comprehensive. He nodded his head slowly.

"Very well, Corporal. I’ll trust you. But I do have a request."

"Yes?"

"I’d like to take a patient with us. She.."

"Doctor, we’re not bringing anyone else with us. The hov is too small and we couldn’t get to the barracks now anyway."

"I understand. But my patient is here." He pointed to the far corner, where Kate lay behind the screens. "She’s four months pregnant. You know what will happen to her if I leave her behind. Surely we have room for one more."

It was Yashimoto’s turn to nod slowly. "We have room for one more."

*    *    *

"Three minutes." The hov moved smoothly under Moss’s firm hand. The small craft was running at a depth of two kilometers, the twin ion engines pushing it at just over 1200 kilometers an hour. Behind him, the two rookies were strapped into their seats, their emergency restraint fields full on. Jennie now had the terminal position, continuing to decipher the rerouted thermal blurs.

"On schedule," she drawled out. Speech in phase was almost impossible. Under ERF, it was very painful. As such, it was also very abbreviated. "Decoy deployed. Engines overcharging. Sporadic enemy fire. Internal coordinates set."

"Two minutes." He shifted the hov controls to fingertip pressure, then activated his own ERF. The energy barrier clamped around him, giving him a smothering sensation. The engines began reverse thrust as Moss slowed the craft down, gaining altitude slightly. "Minus one five k. Ninety seconds."

"Engine overcharge blinding local sensors. Moderate enemy fire. Landing zone clear." There was a short pause as Jennie swallowed several times to reduce the burning in her throat. "NATech advance. Twenty personnel." There was another pause, followed by a brutal and decidedly coarse epitaph that was made even more vulgar because it came from Jennie. "Thermal viewer out."

Moss mentally shook his head. It had been expected that an overcharging ion engine would disable all sensors. It had, in fact, been counted on. The last thing they wanted to do was let NATech know there were two hovs involved. Still, they were now as blind as NATech, and had to hope no one entered the landing zone area.

"Approaching mine field. Thirty seconds."

*    *    *

Mayberry had abandoned his comlink for one of the plasma rifles retrieved from their hov. His training screamed at him to lay down a methodical, sweeping fire, preventing advance. But such disciplined resistance would almost certainly raise suspicions that they were more than scared civilians. Instead, he abused the rifle, firing before full recharge, and concentrating his fire, then haphazardly changing targets. He missed a great deal, but was still able to keep the NATech advance slowed. It helped immensely that they still hadn’t figured out that the massive flood lamps that illuminated the barren compound were to his advantage and not theirs. He saw a break in the firing and turned his head back.

"Corporal? I can’t hold them off much longer. Not with this kind of defense."

"All right. Give them a little stiffer resistance. We only need a couple more minutes." He ducked through the hole in the west wall that they had burned to gain access to the damaged hov. He gave a quick glance at the engine casing. It was losing containment, and not slowly. He backed it off about ten percent and reentered the now burning warehouse. All in all, he nodded approvingly, a total disaster.

He looked down at Barrett, who sat on the floor, the woman’s head in his lap. She was still unconscious, and would probably stay that way. He looked along the eastern wall, the one NATech was attacking, to locate his three men. Each one had a window and was laying down an inconsistent yet effective fire. Hernandez was firing with one hand. The other kept pressure on the compress covering his leg where a NATech laser had punched through. He wanted to help him, but that would mean crossing the landing zone. He went to the doctor and sat beside him.

"How is she doing, Doctor?" He had to practically yell over the growing crackle of the flames.

"Not good. The drugs I have access to are inferior and impure. She’s having a mild reaction. It’ll be worse when we begin phasing."

"Can her baby withstand the phasing? I know that children are easily overcome with prolonged phasing. And we’ll need to phase the entire trip."

Barrett shook his head. "To be honest, Corporal, I don’t know. Normally, the unborn fare remarkably well to phasing. Since they are completely supported by the mother while in the womb, there aren’t any side effects. But Kate is very weak herself. She may not survive the phase. But we really have no choice, do we?"

"I’m sorry, Doctor. We were unaware of her presence. We’d been able to determine the clinics size, shape, and location, which is how we developed our plan. But we had no idea what it looked like on the inside. Nor who would be here."

There was a yell from Fulton, his third man, stationed at the far end of the east wall. Yashimoto jerked his head and saw Fulton slumping over the sill. Even in the dim, flickering light of the flames that lapped the south wall, it was possible to see a deep stain spreading across his back. At that moment, the room suddenly became darker as the compound lights were finally shut off.

"That’s not good," Mayberry commented.

"Excuse me, Doctor. I’m needed elsewhere." He gripped his rifle and rose to his feet. He needed to get to Fulton’s position, which meant crossing the landing zone. A big risk, but not as big as leaving that position unmanned.

He took two steps then jerked back. The air suddenly crackled and shimmered. He felt his breath being sucked out of his lungs, then was thrown down as a pocket of hot air blasted him. The evac hov had arrived.

The rear door lifted open, knocking over a table. No one came out.

"This party is over, people!" shouted Yashimoto. He helped Barrett carry Kate into the hov. He didn’t seat them but instead ran down the ramp and over to the west wall, which was now afire. Mayberry and Hernandez were climbing on board, carrying Fulton between them.

He nimbly jumped through the wall and into the damaged hov. He ran to the engine panel and jammed the engines to full, while simultaneously engaging the gravity brakes. The containment field indicator plummeted from fifty percent to thirty, then began dropping at a slower rate. He had perhaps twenty seconds.

He activated the nav computer and released the gravity brakes. The hov jerked and rose up, following a previously inputted flight path. Yashimoto ran to the side door and jumped back into the warehouse just at the craft began to move. He ran to the evac hov and ducked inside, slamming the hatch switch, closing the rear door.

It was very tight. Normally designed to carry five, there were now nine people in the hov. He sat in the seat left open for him just as the phase kicked in.

Everything became translucent. The interior of the hov brightened as the fire from the building shone through the walls. He watched in fascination as the craft plunged into the ground. Moss didn’t want to be anywhere near an overloaded ion engine when it exploded, and was wisely putting as much ground between them and it as quickly as he could.

He had a start several seconds later as a metallic object flashed into his view and passed through him. This would probably the only time in his life that he’d be able to actually see a deployed phase mine, which was fine with him. It didn’t go off, meaning the phase frequencies must be very nearly matched.

Moss canted the hov further into the ground and made for bedrock. It was still going to be a long trip home, but it was shortened considerably by the presence of all his men, the doctor, and an unexpected, very welcome, passenger. Yashimoto closed his eyes and relaxed as best he could, letting the gentle hum of the McDonald phase unit lull him to sleep.

*    *    *

Colonel Forncheth was a lot longer getting to bed. Dawn had come and gone before he returned to his small home. The exploding hov had solved one problem for him by killing all four of the miners they had captured the previous night. It had also created a few problems as well. He was now without a prisoner infirmary and a prison doctor. Both had been vaporized in the blast, as well as a female prisoner who was going through a pregnancy. This was going to make for a very long report.

He crawled under his covers, feeling a small loss. Barrett had kept his prisoners healthy and productive. His own NATech medical staff could pick up the duties. But they would be without the drive or the devotion that Barrett had had toward his friends and comrades.

He would also miss Barrett as a pleasant distraction. The man could carry on a conversation and had an excellent way of expressing an opinion without being insulting. He’d miss their occasional nightly talks.

It was as he was drifting to sleep that Forncheth had an odd thought cross his mind. Was it possible that Barrett’s access in the puterverse only four nights ago was somehow connected to last night? If it was, he would be in deep trouble.

But how could it be? And even if it was, what did it really matter? Barrett was dead, as was the pregnant Resistance prisoner, four miners, and twelve of his men. It was best to just let the whole incident slip into the past. If he pressed it, then he might indeed find that he shouldn’t have allowed Barrett access the other night. And if he, Forncheth, found that out, then someone else would, too. No, he would forget the entire sordid affair, and pray that by choosing to forget about it, it would go away.

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