Masey Laukkanen arrived when they were taking a break, said hello to Kayla, and introduced herself to Thandi and Christie.
“Once you’ve done five years in a Ranger battalion,” Urtiga explained, “you get to pick a specialty. Half of all women go into the Research and Development Collective, but the rest of us—”
“The rowdy ones,” Masey said with a smile.
“Haha, right. The rowdy ones go into specialized units. Masey is in the Orbital Demolition Teams, or ODT for short.”
“Working in space,” Masey explained. “Space walks, boarding and breaching ships or stations, that kind of thing.”
“That’s awesome,” Thandi replied.
Masey nodded. “Very awesome, and amazing views. But you need to be comfortable in a completely hostile environment. Space will asphyxiate, or freeze you to death in seconds, so your life depends on your gear, and good decisions. Make the wrong move with your thrusters and you might end up burning up in the atmosphere or shooting off into the void to die over several days.”
Thandi’s smile vanished, while Christie’s eyes went wide. Kayla wondered if they had been expecting some kind of adventure theme park. The idea of drifting in space didn’t appeal to her when there was nothing to hide behind or climb over. But death was death. Whether a wild animal snapped your neck, or you suffocated from lack of air, the result was the same.
“Last week,” Masey continued, “an orbital bombardment battery was drifting through the Oordo System, and we went in to disable it. Those platforms have a tendency to expend their ammunition on any planet they get near. Fortunately, its defenses were down, but that’s not always the case.”
“What kind of defenses do they have?” Thandi asked.
“Gun turrets, lasers, and drones are the usual,” Masey said.
“Why don’t you just blow it up?” Christie asked.
Masey rolled her eyes. “Gee, I wonder if the Jotnar ever thought about that? Why can’t we blow up something that’s designed to resist being blown up? And who cares about the danger of a half-exploded weapons platform tumbling through space, right?”
“You don’t have drones of your own to send in?”
“Human piloted drones are not useful for anything other than recon,” Masey explained, “because the Jotnar systems can jam their signal. What you’re really asking is, why don’t we start a battle in space managed by machines? To start with, machines are dumb. They react poorly to chaos, they can’t adapt, they can’t deceive, and they can’t innovate. A platform or a ship is essentially an armored box packed with incredibly destructive ammunition and powered by a miniature sun. There is a lot of potential for things to go wrong. Our teams need to get inside and get control of its systems. Only then can the deconstruction process begin.”
“But the Jotnar can rely on drones for defense?” Christie persisted.
“Because it’s a last-ditch defense. If their hardware was operated by living, thinking beings, our jobs wouldn’t be so easy. It’d be actual war.”
Kayla wanted to learn more about Masey’s job, but she couldn’t keep her own questions buried any longer. “What’s happening on Caldera?” she interjected. “Where did the monsters come from that are killing colonists? Are they Jotnar?”
“Caldera, yeah…” Urtiga began as she ran a hand through her hair. “We’ve seen some aggressive wildlife before, but not creatures that spend most of their time trying to attack human settlements. After I met you, I led survey teams all over the planet trying to track down their movement patterns or natural habitats, but we came up empty. We send teams down there regularly to thin their population.”
“But they keep reappearing. And people keep dying,” Kayla insisted.
“Ah… let me see if I can get my friend in intel.” Urtiga waved to a woman on the other side of the room. She walked over and introduced herself as Jiao Zhang.
“Zhang works for unintelligence,” Masey said with a wink.
Zhang smiled. “Just a couple of letters off, but no worries.”
“On most operations,” Masey said, “we depend on real-time, accurate information about whatever situation we are getting involved in. By tradition, Zhang provides us with wrong answers only.”
Urtiga laughed.
Zhang raised her hands. “I keep telling the brass we should go back to tea leaves. They don’t listen.”
“Kayla wanted to know about the situation on Caldera,” Urtiga said.
“Yes, a difficult case,” Zhang said. “We sent bodies to the Collective for analysis. They determined those creatures were genetically related to the existing fauna on the planet. Their conclusion was that some type of biological or chemical weapon had been activated in the past, mutating animals, resulting in pathologically disturbed species.”
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Kayla was surprised by the explanation. “That doesn’t make sense. They didn’t appear in the first fifty years of the colony, and then they started showing up in droves.”
“No, they didn’t attack colonists in the first fifty years,” Urtiga said. “There’re a lot of reasons why that could be.”
Kayla scowled. “Something is going on.”
Masey looked at her with an impatient expression. “So, what, sweety? You somehow know better than some of the brightest minds in the galaxy? Are you one of those Helvet protégés I hear so much about?”
Suddenly furious, Kayla gave her a foul look, which was returned with an unimpressed smirk.
Urtiga put her hand on Kayla’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Calderans are still dying, but it’s a big galaxy, and there are a lot of problems. Valkyrie is a small organization, and we can’t afford to fixate on unsolvable mysteries.”
“It’s strange you don’t recruit men,” Christie said. “Your candidate pool would be many times larger.”
“Is that really true?” Zhang asked. “Men make up ninety percent of humanity’s security forces. We would miss out on many of the best candidates.”
“And women are naturally superior at what is essentially high stakes janitor work,” Masey added with a gleam in her eye.
Zhang raised an eyebrow. “An excellent example of the culture of overconfidence we are supposed to guard against.”
Masey laughed. “Out of all the things wrong with that joke, overconfidence is what you fixate on?”
Zhang shrugged, but took on a contrite expression.
“So, you only recruit women because you don’t want to compete with other security forces?” Christie persisted.
“Nope, and don’t expect to have that question answered anytime soon,” Masey said. “But listen, fighting robots is one thing. Keep in mind there are people out there who would pay a fortune for the weapons we uncover. They might be tempted by power and playing with forces they don’t understand, so if they come looking for trouble, we have to be prepared to kill them.”
“Does that happen often?” Christie asked.
Masey nodded. “Zhang and Urtiga’s units do a great job of running interference and keeping criminal or terrorist encounters low profile.” She winked at Urtiga. “Until they screw up and beg for me and my friends to come and bail them out.”
Urtiga raised her eyebrows and met Masey’s smirk with one of her own. “Really?” she said.
“What is your unit, Urtiga?” Kayla asked, doing her best not to appear too interested.
“We get involved when human lives are at stake,” Urtiga said. “Hostage rescue, or a device getting into a population center, for example.”
Kayla nodded. “Sounds cool. What’s it called?”
Urtiga gave her a wink. “You aren’t going to get all your questions answered until you’ve earned your place here.”
“And even then, they keep you in the dark,” Zhang said glumly.
“It’s true,” Masey said, “Valkyrie is a compartmentalized organization, but we all signed up for it. Anyway, ODT does all that hostage rescue stuff too, by the way.”
“But not as well,” Urtiga said. “See Kayla, my unit is really the most high-level. We demand not just toughness, but fast and creative thinking to solve problems. Smashing rocks is not usually going to get you out of delicate situations.”
“Alternatively,” Masey countered, “your unit overthinks problems that can be solved by putting a bullet in the right place.”
“ODT’s contribution is always valued,” Urtiga said with a hint of a grin. “Perhaps not the brightest minds of Valkyrie, but certainly the most vigorous.”
“Actually,” Masey shot back, “by whatever fluke of destiny or universal truth, ODTs are more physically attractive and operationally capable specimens. It’s a shame this often leads to jealousy amongst the lesser units.
“I don’t know about you ladies,” Zhang said, “but I came to the wrestling gym to wrestle. Is that weird?”
Urtiga was about to respond when a wetsuit clad woman entered the gym.
“Hey listen up!” she called. “A big storm hit the Ghinzi channel yesterday and pushed a nice swell in this direction. Get ready for serious breakers on the beach later today. Gold squadron has sector two, so if you’re interested, go someplace else.”
“Oh, get some!” Urtiga said, as wrestlers throughout the gym began talking excitedly.
Kayla, Christie and Thandi sat on towels on the beach, watching surfers head for the water, boards swinging in their grip. Masey ran past the patiently waiting trio, kicking up sand particles that the onshore breeze whipped into Kayla’s eyes. She blinked away the irritant and wiped moisture off her cheek. Some of the women wore wetsuits, but those in swimwear all had noticeable scars on their bodies.
Kayla wrapped her arms around herself and smiled at Thandi. “This place is kind of crazy, isn’t it?”
“It’s a devil’s bargain, I guess,” Thandi said glumly. “Tour the galaxy, save humanity, and maybe die in the process.” She paused. “But I think that every generation of my ancestors has done the same thing—either in war, or when facing the dangers of colonization. As a Zulu, I believe it is my duty to do my own part to protect my community.”
“I’m so sorry, Thandi,” Christie said with a condescending look. “But which tribe did you say you were from? I forgot again.”
Thandi glared at her.
“So, what’s your opinion, Christie?” Kayla asked. “You have a first-class education. You could go a long way in Helvetic society.” She waved her hand at the beach. “Feel like trading it in for all this?”
Christie raised an eyebrow. “If you were a top graduate at Caldera’s most elite school, then surely you face the same dilemma?”
Kayla shrugged and looked at her feet. She would rather die than try and live amongst Helvets. But aside from the occasional cutting remark, Christie had been polite enough, and Kayla didn’t want to offend her.
“Valkyrie certainly does not offer a boring life,” Christie said. “Though I confess I have a lot of questions. The voluntarism aspect of it is encouraging, because there is obviously an awful lot these women are keeping from us. I believe that anyone who puts a gun in your hand and tells you where to point it is also going to have to clearly explain the ‘why’.”
Wind whipped Kayla’s hair over her eyes, and she tried to tuck it back behind her ear. “I think I would trust them until I saw something that concerns me.”
“Indeed. Though I have to say…” Christie turned to watch the surfers as they barreled through the water in search of another wave. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a group of people so focused, and yet, at the same time, so free-spirited.”
A huge wave broke beyond the surf zone, sending surfboards and bodies flying. Heads popped up above the water and there was a shout. Arms splashed frantically as swimmers converged on a splash of red blooming from the gray green sea.
Footsteps thudded past the girls as a tall woman raced toward the surf, a small emergency bag in her hand. A few women carried a limp body out of the surf and laid it on the sand. Kayla, Christie and Thandi jumped up and began to walk toward the distant commotion.
Masey ran over to them with her hands raised. “Stay here,” she ordered, as she stepped in front of the trio.