Resistance Read Free Page B

determined to get his share.
    The countenance in the mirror was pale and thin. It was the face of an ascetic, rather than a man of action. He'd been teaching classes at MIT only six months earlier, had never fired a weapon until he entered Officer Candidate School, and was scared shitless. But CaptainAnton Nash
knew
things, important things that had to do with physics, which was why he had been given the brevet rank of captain.
    Now he was going to lead soldiers into combat.
    A lot of men had been called up under President Grace's Emergency Mobilization Order, and placed in jobs they weren't qualified for. But what made Nash different, or so he assumed, was the fact that he was absolutely terrified. Not only of the Chimera, but of his own weaknesses, of which there were many. So as Nash looked himself in the eye he wasn't very impressed. Was this the day he was going to die?
    Yes
, Nash thought to himself,
it probably is
. And with that he made use of a washcloth to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, buttoned his jacket with palsied fingers, and took one last look at the photo that was sitting on top of a utilitarian dresser. The woman in the picture was beautiful,
very
beautiful, and more than a man like him deserved. Above all else he wanted to make her proud.
    With that thought in mind Nash went to meet his fate.
    Each SRPA base was different, but all of them had certain things in common, including underground bays in which aircraft and vehicles could be maintained and stored. Subsurface levels were dedicated to administration, medical, and food services. Typically, living quarters were located even deeper underground, where they were protected by a matrix of passageways in which prepositioned explosives offered a defense against incoming Burrowers.
    Nevertheless, Hale was armed as he made his way through the maze of corridors and boarded an elevator that would take him up to the admin deck. Standing orders called for
every
Sentinel to be armed while on duty,so Hale was carrying an HE .44 Magnum in a cross-draw holster, plus two six-shot speed loaders in quick-release belt pouches. Though not fully combat-ready he was wearing thermals and a cotton shirt, with a waist-length gray jacket. It would do in a pinch.
    The gold bars on Hale's collars drew salutes from the enlisted people he passed, and having only recently been promoted to second lieutenant, he was self-conscious about returning the courtesy. As the elevator door started to close, a sergeant darted in and, finding Hale there, quickly tossed him a salute.
    There was no such thing as central heating in a SRPA base, so the air was chilly and Hale was glad of the wool uniform as the elevator lurched to a stop and he followed the sergeant off.
    Before Hale could enter the briefing room, it was first necessary to pass through a security checkpoint manned by three heavily armed soldiers. Having shown his SRPA ID card and the number that had been tattooed onto the inside surface of his left arm, he was allowed to make his way down the spartan corridor to the point where a table was loaded with coffee, orange juice, and thick ham and egg sandwiches.
    It was simple food, but Hale knew better than to take it for granted, because as the planet's atmosphere grew colder and the Chimera took more and more land, food shortages were becoming increasingly common. It made him feel slightly guilty as he carried a heaping plate into the briefing room and looked for a place to sit down. A corner preferably, where he could maintain a low profile while consuming his breakfast.
    Any such hopes were quickly dashed, however, as Major Richard Blake spotted him from the front of the room and gestured for him to come forward. There were about thirty officers and other SRPA officials in theroom, and at least a dozen heads turned as Hale made his way forward, partly because he was in motion, but mostly because of who he was. He'd had a hard time maintaining a low profile since he'd come