Earth Afire (The First Formic War)

tore into the surface.
    Then spew shot out the back, and they were surging downward.
    An instant later a blast of cold hit Mazer so quickly that he felt as if he had fallen into icy water. His muscles constricted; his teeth clenched; his hands clung to the armrests. He wasn’t going to die, he knew, and yet the fear of it wrapped its tendrils around his heart and squeezed.
    Kim would love this, he told himself. She was like a kid when it came to amusement park rides. The scarier the better.
    The drill sledge dropped a few meters as it hit a tunnel, and Mazer felt momentarily weightless. Then the drill sledge hit earth again, and Mazer strained against his chest harness.
    “Granite ahead,” said Wong. “Prepare to go hot.”
    A second later another burst of cold hit Mazer’s suit as the drill picked up speed and surged forward through rock.
    The engine roared, and the drill bit screamed, and Mazer realized he was laughing, laughing with tears in his eyes, just like Kim would do.

CHAPTER 7
     
    Rena
     
    The helm of the space station looked nothing like the helm of El Cavador , but it reminded Rena of what she had lost nonetheless. It was the energy of the room that felt familiar—the hustle and chatter from the crew as they flew from one console to another, sharing intel or relaying orders or checking the various holocharts. It was the same energy Rena had felt every day of her life on board El Cavador. Except, in that life she had been surrounded by family, people who valued her and loved her and called her La Gallina, or Mother Hen, because she was a listening ear and a comforting friend to everyone on board. Here, aboard a depot owned and operated by WU-HU, the largest of the Chinese space-mining corporations, somewhere in the outer rim of the Asteroid Belt, Rena was no one. An outsider. A stranger.
    She floated through the hatch and waited for someone to notice her, not daring to interrupt a member of the crew. After a moment, a young Chinese officer spotted her and came over, catching a handhold near her.
    “You here about the nav sensor?” the man asked. His English was good, but his Chinese accent was thicker than most.
    Rena nodded.
    The man pointed. “Over there. Fourth workstation on the right.”
    Rena thanked him and moved in that direction. Ever since she and the other survivors of El Cavador had arrived, carried here by Captain Doashang and his WU-HU vessel, they had earned their room and board by making repairs throughout the station and on whatever WU-HU ships docked here. Captain Doashang had vouched for them to the station chief, a kindly woman named Magashi, who had given them one of the storage rooms to sleep in. It was a zoo every night, all of them cramped in that tiny space, with little ones and infants waking up at all hours, crying to be held or breast-fed or reassured that their nightmares were nothing more than dreams.
    Rena had dreams as well, though she never spoke of them to anyone. In them, Segundo, her husband, was always alive, stretched out beside her in her hammock, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close, telling her about a repair he had made or something he had overheard on the ship that day. Sometimes they laughed. Other times they marveled at how blessed they were to have Victor as a son. Other times he threatened to tickle her, and she threatened him serious bodily harm if he tried. Other times they said nothing at all; it was enough to simply be together, floating there side by side.
    In every instance she could feel the thickness of his arms around her and the warmth of his breath on the nape of her neck. It was real, as real as it had ever been.
    And then she would wake, and it was as if he had died all over again.
    She kept her tears silent and unseen. Even in the cramped quarters of the storage room no one saw her as anything but calm, confident, and optimistic. She couldn’t allow herself to seem otherwise. There were too many younger mothers who looked to her for reassurance and comfort and strength.
    Of course there were those who despised her as well, regardless of what she did. Julexi whispered discontent whenever she had the chance. Her husband, Pitoso, had been the first to die in the attack on the alien ship. His explosive had detonated prematurely, killing him instantly and alerting the hormigas of the attack. The battle had been a disaster after that. The hormigas had poured out of the hole the explosion had created, literally throwing