A Medal For Mary, Rob Astor [phonics books .TXT] 📗

But how?
Jeanclair slowly walked into the living room. He picked up the remote and shut the TV off. He stared at Mary and she studied him. “Let us go now before we are late.” Mary nodded. She flicked the kitchen light off and joining Jeanclair at the door. In silence, they left the suite.
* * *
Howling winds blew across the barren landscape, pushing up dust, whipping it past the lone New Zimlliaan as he stumbled along. His face was stained with sweat and dirt. Leon carried the heavy survival pack on his back. “I could really use a little of that Martian chill right about now,” Leon grumbled.
Sand stung the back of his head. There were times when it was hard to keep his balance. Leon realized the sand was getting looser. Something stirred beneath one of the dunes. Leon froze. The dirt rippled, crisscrossing like waves blown in two different directions. Leon squinted, trying to find the source of the strange disturbance.
The sand dune exploded. Leon fell backward, barely getting a half second to study the creature. The torso was round and ridged, like a stack of poker chips. Its head was insect-like and tentacle appendages whipped out wildly. Huge glassy eyes peered at the New Zimlliaan while incisors within the skull gleamed with drool. Odd clicking noises came from its mouth. Backward hind legs enabled the critter to jump around. “You’re one ugly sonuva bitch,” Leon stammered. He rolled out of the line of fire as one of the two tentacles shot out, slicing into the sand where Leon was a fraction of a second before.
As Leon rolled in the other direction to avoid a second strike, he fought his way out of the backpack and drew his side arm. He squeezed a shot off that bounced off the creature’s right eye in a shower of sparks. It snarled at spit. “That piss you off? Well, you’re pissing me off, too!” Leon charged to his right. A third tentacle hit the dirt with a loud hiss. Sharp claws on the tip into bedrock, bringing chunks of it up.
Leon played with his gun, adjusting the charge to its highest setting. “I sure as hell hope you got a brain in that nasty head of yours.”. He carefully aimed at the head and pulled the trigger. The weapon’s energy drained with one brilliant blast of purple-green neatly cleaving the skull away. The air was pierced with a shrill scream. Limbs flew about chaotically. An inhuman groaning escaped the twitching body.
Collecting his pack, Leon strapped it over his shoulders. “At least there was nothing like you back on Mars.” He adjusted his course with the compass. “With any luck, you’ll be the only barbequed bug I run into on Ufa.”
* * *
Red Gonouf was directly overhead. Klexi wiped sweat from his face and glanced over his shoulder. The androids paced, keeping a careful eye on the yellow natives. Their exteriors gleamed brilliantly harsh in mid-day sun. The New Zimlliaan defector strained to see identification squares painted on their left shoulders. Then he turned back to his plant and finished burying it in the parched soil.
Lynn finished a plant and glanced at Klexi, dirt stains covering his face. “I don’t know why I put up with this shit,” he mumbled.
“Take it easy, Lynn,” Klexi said in a lowered voice. He glanced at the chronograph on his left wrist, then back to the androids observing the other half of the field. Two stood close together. The others were spaced about fifty meters apart. Klexi’s eyes darted quickly to an irrigator floating low over the ground about two hundred meters from them. Lynn watched the New Zimlliaan. When the androids started to turn back in their direction, Klexi quickly paused his timer. “The same every day,” he whispered.
Lynn took a plant and dug out a hole. “What do you mean?”
“This time every day, all of them turn their backs to us for exactly ten divisions,” Klexi said.
“How long’s a division?”
“Seventy seconds,” Klexi clarified. “That irrigator,” he discreetly pointed to the closest hovering low over the ground, “is always this far from us during that period.”
“So, you think you got our escape route all mapped out?” Lynn asked.
“I've been studying this place for patterns ever since I was brought here. This one is consistent. We’d have about eleven minutes to get from here to the nearest irrigator.”
“Don’t you think they’ll miss us, Klexi? We’re the only two humans around.”
“Yes. But they will think we’re running through the fields,” Klexi grinned. “They’ll be searching in the wrong place.”
“How do we get to one of the hovercraft without being seen by the natives?”
“We crawl along the ground as fast as we can,” Klexi said. “I have a hook and a rope in my uniform. We’ll use it to climb up into the irrigator. We just have to do it in that ten minute time frame."
Lynn started on his next hole, his knees aching. “When I was brought down from the slave transport, I saw this woman in the command center being used as plant food.”
“The Psionic Dreamer?”
“Yeah. Think we can save her?”
“We have to get ourselves out first,” Klexi said. “Pack your bags. We leave tomorrow.”
* * *
“I thought you decided not to,” Mary said. Tears brimmed around her eyes. She stood before Jeanclair, drawing back as he reached out to touch her.
His face dropped. “This is something I feel strongly about,” Jeanclair said softly. “If we are ever to overcome the New Zimlliaans, we must fight. I am needed.”
“I need you, too, Jeanclair,” Mary said loudly, a tear running down her cheek. “Damn you. Can’t you see that? I love you. I need you more than them. What am I supposed to do while you’re off being a hero?” She turned away, pacing around their couch.
“You can join,” Jeanclair said. “They need all the help they can get.”
“I’m not ready to hand my head over to those aliens,” Mary said quickly. “There are a lot of other people. They will drive the New Zimlliaans back into space.”
“That’s just it. There aren’t enough. A lot of people have gone missing.”
Mary sighed, choking down sobs. “Obviously, you’ve made up you mind. Dear God, how can I talk you out of it.” Mary swallowed, sniffling. “Your friend Lynn talked you into this. They’re sending signals over a computer system. What if the channel’s bugged? What if its a trap by the New Zimlliaans to capture anyone who’d undermine them? Did you ever think about that?” She walked toward Jeanclair. “I implore you to reconsider this.”
Jeanclair was silent for a moment, gazing deeply into her eyes. “You poor, frightened child. I’m sorry for the pain I have caused you caused by offering my help to the resistance.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “I have thought about this many times.”
Mary nodded. She turned away.
Jeanclair sighed. “Won’t you still love me just as much? Won’t you even wish me well? Please.” He placed his arms tightly around her waist. “Marie, I am not leaving you. I want you to be with me.”
Mary turned back to him, placing her arms up around his neck. “I can’t stop you from helping your friends, Jeanclair, but, I can’t be happy knowing you might wind up dead at any second. I love you so much. And, yes, this hurts. Don’t you see? This is the second time you’ve done this to me.”
Jeanclair’s expression changed, as did Mary’s. She halted in her tracks, stopped by the force of her own words. Why had she said them? “What did you mean just now?” Jeanclair asked.
“I… I don’t know,” she said. “But, you did…”
“I have always been here at your side.”
“I know, but, it feels like you have.” Mary searched within her mind. “You did,” she whispered, “in a dream…” This is all getting more and more bizarre. Am I psychic? Have I seen all this before, in dreams? No one in my family ever said they were psychic…
Mary’s attention was drawn to the face of a brown haired reporter on the television. She remembered his face; from a dream…
“…gaining more strength in the American South. The New Zimlliaan Nazi Party declared a racial war threatening to further fracture the power structure of the European Union.” The television showed a riot on a campus where students of all cultures threw rocks and bottle bombs at rows of black helmeted New Zimlliaan soldiers. They fired side arms, the blasts warning strays. Mary felt an awful sinking at the pit of her stomach. “The Nazis have the New Zimlliaans’ full support in a decision to launch preemptive attacks across the continent if the violence gets worse.”
“My God,” Mary gasped. “This is so much like the dream.”
“Do you see now why we must fight?” Jeanclair asked. “This madness must stop.”
Mary turned to him, searching behind all her fear for a decision completely against her principals and instincts. “Yes. And before I lose my nerve, I want to join you.”
It took a handful of seconds for the words to register in Jeanclair’s brain. He smiled, pulling Mary close. “Ah, my dear brave girl. You have made me so happy and so proud.” Mary forced a smile. This had to be the right choice. I can’t let the Nazis take over my life again; like in my dreams.

Chapter VI

The dirt basin was thicker in places, and deceiving. Leon sunk up to his knees in one spot. Grumbling and cursing, he plowed through the soil, and he dug himself up. “I really hate deserts,” Leon said.
Something sparkled in the distance, something that could easily be mistaken as a mirage. Whether or not it was, Leon was drawn to it. He checked his compass bearing, veering from his course to investigate.
Buried under sand was a piece of highly polished metal coated with a membrane of dust. Clearing more of it off, Leon discovered it was attached to a hover craft. “Yes!” Leon cheered. “If I can get this puppy working half way decent, I’ll be back to base in no time.” Wiping sand away with his hands, Leon checked over the car-like boat-shaped vehicle. He dug sand away from the floatation and anti-gravity systems along the under side. They all looked intact. The cockpit controls were there. “Wonder who left a perfectly good ride all the way out here.” Leon placed his pack in the seating area and tried activating the power. A slight hum indicated signs of life. Banks of yellow and orange buttons flickered faintly for a second and dimmed. Leon reached for his utility belt and took a small sidearm charger from a pouch.
Hopping out, Leon went to the rear of the craft. He pried open a panel and disconnected a set of wires. Attaching them to the