Planet Wrecker

-91-

“We can’t pull the same trick against the Highborn,” Osadar said.

“So we accept defeat?” Omi asked.

“No,” said Marten. The three of them played cards in a storage locker. Boxes were stacked in the corners. Plastic barrels of water made a wall on one side. They’d taken down the top barrels and made the table with it. Smaller boxes were the chairs. The worn cards were from Mars, stored in Omi’s pocket.

“No,” Marten said. “You take off and leave the asteroid. It’s me they want.”

“They want all of us,” Omi said.

Marten grinned tiredly. “You saw a replay of the message. Cassius all but gloated about the things he was going to teach a mulish preman like me.”

“You have an odd ability,” Osadar said. “It is uncanny how easily you anger those in charge.”

“Yeah,” said Marten. “It’s because I like to be my own man. My mistake, I guess.”

“It is immaterial,” said Osadar. “With the successful strike against Earth, the cyborgs will have clinched victory.”

“Nothing’s clinched yet,” Marten said hotly.

Osadar glanced at Omi and shrugged. “He is incurable,” she said.

“I want you to leave,” Marten said, as he stared at his cards. He had two aces, a ten of clubs, a two of diamonds and a Joker. “Take Nadia with you.”

Omi laid his cards on the table—on the plastic water barrels. “No one is running out on you. One: the shuttles will overtake our patrol boats and we have no ammo left. Two: you’re our Force-Leader. We stand or die with you, Marten. Accept it.”

Marten looked away as his heart beat rapidly. He didn’t deserve friends like this. He was spent and it told on his emotions. He rubbed his eye as he thought about his friends staying to die with him. There was a speck in it, that’s all. He kept telling himself that until he stood up. “I’m not going to meekly surrender.”

“No one thought you were,” Omi said.

“Okay,” Marten said. “I just wanted to get that straight.”