Recon Marines II: Marine's Heiress, The (11 page)

Vin caught his belt and with only a
slight tug, threw him backward off the steps. The robber screamed
as if he’d been shot.

The man scrambled backward on his hands
and butt, blubbering curses. Vin caught him and flipped him over on
his stomach. After putting his knee in the center of the man’s
back, Vin jerked his arms together and wrapped the organic wire
around them. He touched it with a tiny ionizing rod that hardened
the rubbery substance to steel. It would hold until he neutralized
the charge. He should have used it in the shop but hadn’t wanted
more questions about where his weapons came from. His secrets
weren’t worth Emma getting hurt, and he wished he’d used it in the
first place. He hauled the man to his feet and flung him into the
cargo area.

The man grunted and then screeched a
cry for help. Vin hopped up into the cab and searched around the
messy interior, finding a broken toolbox. He rummaged inside and
found a roll of wide utility tape. He swung out the door and into
the cargo bed. There he used the tape to end the wailing of his
prisoner and also covered his ears and eyes.

Vin reentered the cab and started the
hopper. Its old engine coughed and caught. The not unpleasant odor
of burning crystallized iron replaced the green smell of the
jungle. A small bit of iron would power this small hopper for
years, efficient, but an iron-powered engine was expensive. Was it
stealing to take it from Hadrason Mining in exchange for the
trouble they’d caused Hovel Port?

The hopper lifted off, the engine
quieting as it left the ground. Instead of turning toward Hovel
Port, Vin turned toward the west where he’d parked his ship. He
needed to retrieve a few things.

* * * *

Emma left her friends to guard and
further question the prisoner after she applied a small dressing to
the abrasion on his head. The thief seemed less inclined to talk
now that Vin had left. She returned to her surgery and opened the
closet behind her small office desk.

The closet held nothing but info disks.
Though they’d been filed in order by subject, it took a moment for
her to remember where to search. A clear image came to her of
hearing about the Recon Marines for the first time during her final
year of psychiatry. Much about them had been classified at the
time, and the doctors teaching the class had never met or examined
any of the marines. They’d admitted adding a lot of speculation to
their physical and mental evaluations of the genetically enhanced
soldiers.

Emma found the correct disc and sat
down at her desk. Her computer wasn’t the newest but it worked fine
to open the information file. The first touch of the screen brought
up the transcription from the medical school lecture.

She skimmed the estimations of the
Recon Marines’ speed and strength, having witnessed a feat that
exceeded the guesstimate. Another part of the disc held a short
video of the marines competing against each other in hand to hand
combat, amazing shooting demonstrations and the scaling of obstacle
walls. The doctor spoke over the video, explaining the enhanced
reaction time, superior eyesight, incredible balance and muscle
endurance indicative of efficient use of glycogen stores. Along
with the obvious physical magnificence, the marines possessed
genetic codes to help fight disease and heal quickly.

The head of psychiatry took over the
lesson to share his opinion of the marines. Part of their genetic
design had resulted in above average intelligence, but after that
the lecture became even greater speculation. The professor raised
more questions than he had answers for, opining that no one could
answer unless they gave the marines full mental health
examinations. How had their childhood isolation affected them? How
had the constant exposure to war and complete absence of social
experience melded to create a unique context from which an alien
mindset might emerge? At some point would the intelligent,
physically perfect specimen turn on its creator? The professor put
forth the prospect of a ‘god complex’ psychosis developing among
the marines. He predicted they would eventually turn on the
civilians they were designed to protect and then each other until
only one remained.

Emma recalled her thoughts at the time.
She’d already served hundreds of hours working with soldiers
returned from combat with emotional wounds so deep they would need
years of therapy to heal. She’d viewed the Recon Marines with an
empathy her teachers and fellow students couldn’t. Instead she’d
wondered what grains of humanity and sanity lingered in the poor
marines’ minds. Their unnatural origins, cruel upbringing, brutal
training and prolonged exposure to violence and stress would push
any normal human over the edge into madness. But they weren’t
normal humans.

A quiet hum like a vibration penetrated
the thin walls of the surgery. The low voices of men followed,
including Vin’s deep tones.

Emma turned off her computer with a
light touch to the screen. She no longer needed to refresh her
memory. What she didn’t understand was how Vin came to be
here.

She checked the tie on her robe and
went outside. A vehicle nearly as wide as the street sat in front
of her surgery. Vin stood on the boardwalk with Moe and Vannie, but
he looked at her. Now that she knew what he was, many small things
about him made sense. Like the wariness she read in him and the oft
confused language issues. He wasn’t brain-damaged but enormously
socially backward. His slow answers and odd questions resulted from
his struggle to understand slang and social habits. He was trying
to fit in and appear normal. A rush of sympathy so large it brought
tears to her eyes rushed through Emma.

Vin stepped toward, his hand
outstretched but stopping short of touching her. “Did that bastard
hurt you when he knocked you down?”

Emma realized he probably saw her
clearly in the dark though the starlight gave her only the hint of
his facial expression. He wouldn’t understand her tears or want
them if he did. “No. Just the night air after being in the
warm.”

“
Vin caught the guy and
brought their hopper back here.” Moe gestured at the vehicle in the
street. “He wants to take it up to the mining port and see about
our supplies. He said lots of cargo ships came in when he traveled
through there.”

“
I guess we should have
known the withholding of supplies was the first attack on us.” Her
medical supplies, basic foodstuffs like sugar, salt and a few other
things they couldn’t grow or make themselves had sunk to critical
levels. “We’ve already paid for more than a month’s worth of
regular orders and a few specialties but do you think they’ll give
them to you? Aren’t they held in a depot with all the supplies for
Hadrason’s Mine?”

“
They’ll give them to me.”
Vin turned to Vannie. “I’ll go in the morning as soon as I set up
the sweeper for you on the river, but I’ll need a list of what’s is
owed you.”

“
Dillon would know,”
Vannie said. “He always compiles what everyone needs, adds it up
and then distributes it. Except for Emma’s medicines. She writes
that up herself.”

Vin sighed, a very human reaction.
“Dillon is the guy that didn’t hear the gate being
opened?”

Moe snorted. “He’s a good lad just not
the type to know about security, fighting and such. Maybe a little
too in love with Emma, distracts him some. He can go with you. They
should at least know his name at the depot.”

Vin looked toward the door to his shop.
“Do you want me to kill them or drop them in the middle of the
jungle somewhere?”

“
Putting them down out in
the trees would be the same as killing them,” Vannie said, his tone
as casual as Vin’s. “Can’t have that on my conscious, and Emma
would never forgive us.”

Vin glanced at her but Moe spoke before
she affirmed Vannie’s words. “Why don’t you and Dillon dump them on
one of those transports going off world. Pick the right one and
it’s in empty space for months before delivering its
haul.

Vin nodded and then climbed onto the
back of the hopper. He lifted the prisoner up and handed him down
to Vannie. Vin handled the large man as easily as if he were a
child. Vannie dragged the man into the shop. The night eased toward
dawn, details emerging as Emma moved closer.

Tape covered the prisoner’s eyes, ears
and mouth but otherwise he appeared uninjured. Not that she
intended to examine him after what happened a few hours
ago.

Vin sprang down from the hopper, his
hands full of odd shaped items. They followed Vannie inside to
where he deposited the bound man on the floor beside the other
prisoner. The man in the chair jerked upright when he saw Vin, his
eyes going wide. Though not for long as Vin covered his eyes, ears
and mouth also with tape. Then he moved behind the prisoner and
wrapped some strange looking rope around the man’s wrists. A brief
light flared and then Vin rose.

“
You got this, Vin?”
Vannie said as he and Moe headed for the door. “I have to get the
men going to the river.”

“
I’ll join you soon.” Vin
went to his workbench, gathering up lines and hoses attached to
some kind of robotic device.

Emma didn’t doubt he heard her
approaching him. She skirted around the prisoners whimpering behind
their gags to join him. “Is this the thing you made to protect the
men working the river?”

He leaned down to check something, his
long fingers skipping cleverly over dials and connections. “It
should keep them safe, at least from the metal traps.” He paused
and looked at her. “They could come up with something
new.”

“
Vin.” Emma put her hand
on his arm, feeling muscles tighten beneath her fingers. “Thank you
for helping us.”

He looked down at her hand on his arm
and then up at her. The intensity in his eyes almost sent her back
a step. “Promise me that you’ll stay out of the shop and away from
these guys while I’m at the river.”

She couldn’t have said no to him even
if one of the prisoners was bleeding to death. “Do you trust my
promise?” Giddiness tickled her middle. Was she actually flirting
with a Recon Marine? But she leaned toward him.

A flicker of uncertainty in his eyes
warmed her as much as his answer. “You lack a sense of
self-preservation and have too great a need to help and protect
others. Even those who don’t need help or deserve it. I don’t know
if it’s your medical training or something inside you.” He again
looked down at her hand on top of his arm. “I vow that these men do
not need medical attention. Will you stay away from
them?”

“
I will.”

He nodded and returned to tinkering
with his machine, forcing her to drop her hand. She studied his
profile, seeing him as she hadn’t before. He was a handsome man,
verging on beautiful with his high cheek bones and square jaw. His
complexion appeared tan but she knew he’d been genetically designed
with a skin tone to withstand most suns’ rays. His lean, graceful
body completed the most attractive package she’d ever met in a man
though she wasn’t one to be impressed with physical
appearances.

Only today had she noticed how gorgeous
he was. Today she’d recognized the haunted look behind all the
caution in his cool gaze. Today she saw the loneliness and the
forlorn search for familiarity in the military neatness of his shop
and sleeping quarters. Was the assistance he gave Hovel Port
without being asked only his engrained habit of serving civilians?
Or was he just a lonely man trying to find a place?

Vin gestured for her to proceed him out
of the building, kicking the door closed behind him. He hefted the
equipment to his shoulder and headed down the street toward the
south gate. The miners already trudged that direction to start
their day. They greeted Vin and then picked up their pace to match
his strides. Some laughter and animated conversation drifted back
to her as the men pointed at the thing on Vin’s
shoulder.

Did Vin understand how much the miners
accepted and trusted him? It had started with his role in saving
Russ and then his handling of the beasts who’d invaded the
settlement. By tonight they would know about the robbers and
perhaps have the first supplies from the depot in weeks. But with
Vin’s background he might never feel he’d given enough to complete
his tour of duty. He was broken in a deep, dark place in his soul.
Lucky for him she was a doctor.

Chapter Seven

The supply depot sat near the airfield.
Vin counted five freighters on the ground unloading and five being
loaded. He bade the nervous Dillon wait with their stolen hopper
while he scouted the ships preparing to leave. Minimal crews of ten
worked the big slow ships. He slipped inside one and found the
living quarters empty as the crew used their last hour on planet to
breathe fresh air and stretch their legs. Dozens of the rough men
stood in a loose pack between the ships, passing bottles back and
forth. No guards on the cargo which appeared to be stacks of
lumber.

Vin hadn’t specialized in the
biological sciences like his fellow Recon Marine, Mak, and had no
idea on what made wood so valuable they would fly it through space.
The vast hold did make a perfect place to stow the
robbers.

One of the better qualities of a hopper
was its nearly silent flight. Vin returned to Dillon and flew the
craft to a spot where the crew members wouldn’t see them on the far
side of the ship he’d scouted.