Read Until Relieved for Free Online Page B

kid. However bad it gets, we'll do our job. We have to keep the Heggies here, keep them from going off to reinforce any of the other worlds in this sector." Don't scramble your brains worrying about things you can't change, he thought.
    "Our people will come for us, won't they? They won't just abandon us here?"
    "They'll come," Joe assured him. "We don't have so many troops that they can afford to write off an entire assault team."
    "But if they don't come, then what?"
    "Then we'll do the best we can for as long as we can." Shut up and watch your fire lanes, kid. "Just take it easy. We've only been here an hour. It'll be four days, maybe more, before our pickup shows. It takes time. They're not going to forget about us."
    If they don't show up? Joe pulled his visor back into place and looked out at the grass again. If the main fleet failed to come, did not cover the evacuation, the 13th would be in deep trouble, and Joe knew it. The shuttles would be sitting ducks lifting off, easy targets for anyone with a shoulder-fire missile. And if there were enemy fighters in the air... They might be lucky if ten percent of the regiment made it back to the ships.
    But that would not happen. At least, it had never happened before.
    "Our orders are to hold until we're relieved or recalled," Joe said softly, talking only to himself now. He did not like to think about the price of failure.
    He spotted movement behind the line and off to the side, and turned to look. He recognized Lieutenant Keye by the way he moved. One soldier in combat kit looked pretty much like any other. There were no bold badges of rank for an enemy to target.
    Keye dropped to the ground at Joe's side and handed him a small pack.
    "Take your squad out a klick," Keye said without preamble. "Plant a line of bugs across the company front. You know the drill."
    Joe did know the drill. He gathered his men and split the pack of recon bugs among the squad. Once activated, the thumb-sized sensors would detect sound, electromagnetic emissions, and, at very close range, the body temperature of a large warm-blooded animal—or human. The bugs had transmitters with a three-kilometer range to send back their readings.
    Using hand signs and soft commands over the squad frequency, Joe got the men moving forward in a skirmish line, with plenty of space between men. They walked slowly, rifles at the ready, stopping after almost every step to listen, and to look into the grass ahead of them. Grass, no matter how tall, would not stop a burst of wire. And it could hide an enemy or his mines.
    Grass. The tallest patches reached five centimeters above Joe's web belt, but he was the shortest man in his squad. The tops of the stalks were brown and going to seed, but lower, the stems were still green, and moist. The night's dew had not been dried yet by the sun. Joe's boots were soon wet from wading through the grass.
    Eighty meters out from the line, the squad crossed a dirt track through the field. It was scarcely wide enough to have been made or used by humans, but Joe held his men up until they had a chance to scan for booby traps or any indication that humans had used the path. Satisfied finally that the trace was animal, Joe ordered his men across. They crossed it quickly, then went prone in the grass on the other side, just in case.
    "Okay, I guess we're clear," Joe whispered after a moment. There had been no clatter of gunfire, nor any other sounds from in front of them. "Let's get moving." He would not have routed his men along that trail even if it had been headed precisely in the right direction. The easy way could too easily be lethal.
    Joe was the first on his feet, scanning the grass tops quickly but thoroughly, looking for any hint of unnatural movement. He had his carbine up and stared across the sights, ready to fire if he even thought that he might have a target. He could feel his hands sweating on the stock of his zipper. His hands sweated ferociously when he was nervous,