Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [34]
“You got it, Master Chief,” Smokey Robinson said, grinning. He knew an apology when he heard one.
Finally, he made his way up the ladder to the MS1 observation dome. It would give him the best position to act as a spotter for his men and, if necessary, the Pegasus. The floor hatch was open, and he pulled himself up to find Consul Char-Kane and Dr. Sulati already there.
“Hi, Rafe,” said the doctor, flashing a warm smile. “Come on up.”
“Uh, sorry. I don’t want to interrupt—”
“Don’t worry about it. We’re just killing time, waiting for your men to come back.”
“Yes, please do not depart on our account,” said the Shamani ambassador, nodding coolly. “You may wish to take a seat and observe, yourself.”
“Sure. Um, thanks.”
In fact, he was glad they’d invited him to stay. He settled into a chair and looked across the barren landscape. With the harsh sun still low in the east, the shadows of the station’s domes stood out in clear relief. He remained acutely conscious that the LT and the rest of the Team were out there somewhere.
The doctor’s face clouded. “I heard about the loss of your men at MS3. I didn’t have the chance to tell you. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could have done.”
Ruiz felt a constriction in his throat. “They knew the risks,” he said, immediately regretting the harshness and recognizing his own bullshit. How could anyone know these risks? “I mean, I appreciate your thoughts,” he amended awkwardly.
“Your men are very fierce warriors,” the consul de campe said approvingly. “I think the Assarn will come to fear you very much.”
“If they live that long,” he growled.
Wanting to change the subject, he stood up and went to the viewing panel that looked west. The sun, smaller and cooler than it seemed on Earth, was still low in the east behind him. He could clearly see the ravine that the Team was using for its approach. “Have you seen anything out that way?” he asked.
“Not yet. But I saw something move over there, to the south,” Dr. Sulati said.
“What did it look like?”
Immediately the chief was focused, unconsciously touching his sidearm while he pivoted and looked in the direction indicated by the doctor.
“Well, it was a flash of silver. It might have been my imagination.”
Ruiz knew it had not been her imagination. He remembered the robot tanks and knew that Falco had reported the potential for many more of them out there. Staring at the bright ground, he could see no anomaly on that dry red surface, but that didn’t mean there was nothing out there. His glare was so intense that if it had been tangible, it might have melted the Plexiglas. The sun continued to rise with the morning, but the rays were still more horizontal than vertical. He should be able to see a shadow, to see something, dammit!
Then he did: a flash of reflection, sunlight on metal. It was moving, and once he saw the first spark of light, he could follow the object that had caused it. There were two, no, three, of the robot tanks in view, creeping very slowly in line abreast toward MS1. They were still a couple of klicks away, but they were coming in his direction. Picking up a pair of binoculars, he studied the vehicles. One halted, barrel trained forward, while the other two continued to creep forward, toward the station.
“Look—over there!” Consul Char-Kane called with more urgency than Ruiz had ever heard in her voice. She was pointing to the east, shading her eyes against the rising sun.
Following her gaze, the chief saw it, too: another group of the robot tanks, a line of six or more, gradually approaching the station. They moved with tactical precision, half of them sitting still, barrels trained forward, while the others darted quickly, 100 or 200 meters at a time, before halting and covering the advance of their comrades. If Ruiz hadn’t seen the electronic guts of two of those things, he would have sworn they were tanks manned by actual, thinking crewmen.
That didn’t change the fact that they were very deadly opponents.
“We’ve got company,” Ruiz