Planet Wrecker

-2-

Marten Kluge let the hot spray of the shower massage his tired muscles. That felt so good.

He had a lean, hard frame, with too many scars, tissue lumps and a purple bruise along the left side of his ribcage. A cyborg had almost killed him yesterday, using the stock of its laser carbine to butt his ribs. If they’d been fighting under regular gravity, he’d be dead now. Instead, he’d flown backward, cracking his helmeted head against a stanchion. The cyborg had been fast—they all were. Luckily, Marten’s draw had been faster. As the cyborg had flown at him, he’d drawn his gyroc pistol, killing it before it had reached him.

The shower door opened then, causing the spray to cease automatically. Marten spun around, almost slipping on the wet tiles. A naked Nadia Pravda grinned at him. Then her eyes took in his purple bruise. She frowned.

“Marten—”

He grabbed a wrist and drew her into the tiny cubicle. He winced as she pressed against his ribs.

“I’m hurting you,” she whispered.

He kissed her, and the hot spray began to jet against the two of them….

Lying on the bed afterward, Marten felt guilty about what he’d done. They weren’t married yet. Nadia sat on the edge of the bed, combing her long hair. Her skin was so smooth, and her back—

“We should get married,” he said.

Nadia turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him. “You mean by a priest?”

“There are no priests among the Jovians,” he said.

“How does one become married then?” she asked.

Marten groaned as he sat up. His ribs throbbed because of their lovemaking.

Worry filled her face. She set aside the brush and faced him. She had small, firm breasts, and her eyes were the most beautiful Marten had ever seen.

“The Jovians are killing you,” she said.

Marten shook his head.

“Can’t you see they’re using you?” Nadia asked, anger entering her voice.

“I’m the best at this. It’s what I do.”

“No! They’re merciless, and are squeezing every ounce of use from you before a cyborg puts a bullet in your brain.”

“We finished the cyborgs.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said.

“Athena Station was it,” Marten said, “at least for the Jupiter System.”

“That’s another thing I don’t understand,” she said. “Why did Tan send space marines onto the station? Why didn’t they just laser its offensive capabilities and annihilate it with nukes?”

“The cyborg conversion chamber—”

“Nearly got you and your men killed,” Nadia said with heat. “The cyborgs detonated the thing before anyone could reach it.”

“Did Omi tell you that?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know. The Jovians are using you, and it nearly got you killed.”

“I had to go down with my men.”

“Why is it always you, Marten? Let others do the dirty work for once.”

“Did Omi tell you we deactivated other nuclear devices? Without us there, all the space marines would have died.”

“What?” Nadia asked, outraged.

Marten looked away. The Jovians were using him, he knew that. And it had been too close this time. Athena Station had been one giant booby-trap. The Force-Leader running the operation had told them it was vital they go down and salvage what they could. The Strategists needed clues concerning the cyborgs, some hint at what the Neptunian Web-Minds planned next.

Marten clenched his teeth as he rose up to his knees. He shuffled across the bed to Nadia. She was so beautiful. He put his hands on her bare shoulders and gently shook her.

She gave him a questioning look.

“I want you to be my wife, Nadia.” He firmed his resolve, deciding to ask her straight out. That was the only way to be fair to her. “Will you marry me?” he asked, searching her eyes.

“Yes,” she said, in a small voice.

Marten grinned, and his grip on her shoulders tightened. “Then before God, I declare you to be my wife.”

“What does that mean?” Nadia whispered.

“It means that we’re married. It means I’m your husband and you’re my woman until death do us part.”

“I don’t want you to die, Marten.”

“Neither do I,” he said. “Now come here, wife.” He drew her to him, and they lay down, beginning all over again.