Doom 3™: Worlds on Fire

39

HAYDEN LOOKED AT CAMPBELL.

“All secure. Should make your boss happy.”

“That’s your boss too.When he hears it. Does this”—he pointed at the smart board on the right wall—

“thing work at all?”

“Sure.”

Campbell went to the board and touched it, and the board gave off a soft glow. A small menu appeared on the side of the electronic board, but Campbell ignored that.

“So General, let’s see what we’ve been dealing with here. There are these—” Campbell used his finger to quickly sketch what looked like a human soldier.

“What used to be your space marines.”

“Zombies. They’ve started calling them ‘zombies.’”

“Funny. So right, and then there’s the citizen version of the same thing.” Campbell fired Hayden a glance. “Which has the advantage—for us at least—that they don’t carry any weapons.”

Then Campbell drew something long and spindly, giving it pointy ears.

“What the hell is that?” Hayden asked.

“What a few of your people described.”

“Looks like a giant bug or—”

“Yeah. Whatever. General, either way, it’s something that wasn’t here before. It’s not one of your Mars citizens transformed.”

“I guess so, but—”

Campbell turned back to the board and drew something resembling a dog, only with oversized forepaws and a head that seemed fused to its body.

“And this—supposedly a bloody pink in front. Machine legs in the back.”

“Only been two of them seen. They called them ‘pinkies.’”

“Right. Now”—he faced Hayden directly—“now my question. Looking at these, how do we know there aren’tmore things, other things out there?”

Hayden shook his head. “Because we haven’t seen them. We haven’t seen anything else…”

Then Campbell, his eyes still fixed on Hayden, added the unsaid word.

“…yet.”

Swann reached the giant Comm Center and saw that already people had begun moving about normally—as if it was another day at work.

“Excuse me,” he said, grabbing one woman in a white coat moving quickly through the lab, “is this place…operational yet?”

The woman shook her head. Swann noticed her name. E. Tharp.

“Not yet. We’re still running tests, rerouting power from the secondary energy units. But I guess we should be ready to try a deep space transmission soon.”

“We have to do it now.”

The woman smiled. “Oh really? And you are?”

“Elliot Swann, counsel for the UAC and personal representative of Ian Kelliher. A messagemust go out right away.”

As soon as he said the words, Swann realized how pompous they sounded.

But Kelliher’s name seemed to have an effect.

“Well, let me see what I can do. You can take a seat over there, at the main consoles. When the system’s ready, you can broadcast away.”

Swann walked over and sat down, feeling safe for the first time since the incident.

He shook his head.

The incident…

Maria leaned against the wall. Andy Kim came over.

“You did good. Got this place all buttoned down. Bet there’s a promotion in this for you.”

“Good. That’s just what I want. A promotion and another tour of duty up here.” She realized how whiny her words must have sounded. “Everyone getting the bodies removed?”

“Yeah—we gave the job to the newbies. Some of them gagging, throwing up.” Kim nodded. “Pretty damn messy.”

Maria nodded. When would Kelly get someone over here to really take charge?

She thought of Kane. Maybe back in Admin, maybe still fighting his way up from the Mars under-city. A dangerous place and a dangerous time to give a damn about someone.

Kim saw the look on her face.

“You okay?”

Another nod. “I’m just fine,” she lied.

“What was the last message from Betruger?” Campbell asked.

“Said Delta was all okay. The doors locked for security. Nothing more since. Think whatever failures are going on in there are interfering with local communication. We have people on it, though.”

Suddenly Swann’s voice filled the room.

“We’re…all set here. We finally have deep space comm ready.”

Hayden looked at Campbell. “So now, what? We get the fleet to come? Reinforce us? Save our goddamn—”

Campbell held up a hand.

“Good work, counselor. But there’s been a change. Everything seems under control here. So a new message to go out. And then tell them to get busy rerouting the comm system do we can talk from here.”

The hesitation in Swann’s voice was clear.

“A different message?”

Campbell looked at Hayden, and the general shrugged.

“Ask the armada to assume a near-Mars orbit position but emphasize to them that there is no current need for their help or support, that”—another look at Hayden—“that…everything is under control here.”

“And Mr. Kelliher?”

“I’ll prepare a full report, to be sent once we have the full comm system back up. Understand?”

“Yes. Though—”

“Great. Now send it.”

The radio went quiet.

“Tell me, General—you got any bourbon? Been a mighty long day so far.”

Hayden leaned down to a locked cabinet behind his desk and pulled out a bottle.

Campbell laughed. “Ah, I knew Mars was in good hands…”

Kane looked around. The receptionist still shook and sobbed, sitting at her desk.

But other than that—and the sound of bodies being put into bags designed for waste and zipped up—the chaos, the smell of fear in the air, had faded.

Of course, if he were in charge there’d be more than a couple of things that would worry him.

Team Bravo was all the way over in Alpha. If anything happened there, getting to them would take a while.

Never did like having my troops scattered.

Whoa, he thought.My troops? No way any of these grunts up here were his troops.

Then there was Kelly all the way over by Delta.

All secure, he said, but the lab…still sealed up tight.

Until they got in there and assessed what the hell had happened, what the status was—then Kelly and his marines were effectively pinned. Leaving Kane and the scattered force here.

Technically Hayden was in charge, and he probably would try to find a lieutenant alive somewhere to run operations.

But for now, as if by instinct, they looked at Kane.

At least, Kane thought, it was quiet now.

Quiet…

He saw a scattering of brightly colored chairs over by reception.

He grabbed his shotgun, which had been lying against the wall, and walked over. Now he could feel the intense muscle pain from the insanity of his fights below. Jabs and sparks of pain shooting into him with every step.

The bandage he had put on his leg gash already showed pink through the gauze and tape.

He walked to a chair. Bright orange, and shaped like a melted teacup.

And Private John Kane sat down.

The siege—or whatever it was—was over.

He sat down because there was this secret rule in combat. When the fighting ended—even for a few minutes—always sit down when you can.

’Cause you never know…