Earth Unaware (First Formic War)

drastically reduced the likelihood of them finding anyone alive, and he wasn’t going to accept that as a possibility. Besides, it didn’t seem likely anyway. Why would the pod stay after it attacked? To scan for life? To make certain the job was done? No, it seemed more plausible that it had tried to communicate or observe or scan. And when those efforts had ended or failed, it had attacked and run.
    Father closed his locker and faced Victor. “You sure you’re up for this, Vico?”
    Victor understood what he was asking. There would be bodies. Death. Women. Children. It would be awful.
    “You’ve never seen something like this,” said Father. “And I would rather you never did. It’s worse than you can imagine.”
    “I can help you, Father. In ways none of these miners can.”
    Father hesitated then nodded. “If you change your mind, if you need to come back, no one will think less of you.”
    “When I come back inside, Father, it will be with you and with survivors.”
    Father nodded again.
    Bahzím, who had replaced Marco as chief miner, was calmly shouting orders from the airlock entrance. “Have two people check your suit and lifeline inside the airlock. Two. Head to toe. Every seam. Do not rush inspections. The debris outside will be jagged and sharp and will puncture your suit or your line. Keep your line slack to a minimum. Stay with your partner. Segundo, I want you and Vico on saws.”
    Father nodded.
    Victor went to the equipment cage and took down the rotary saws. They were dangerous tools outside since they could so easily slice suits and lines, but the blades had good guards and Victor and Father had experience using them. Victor carried them to the airlock.
    Toron entered from the corridor, flew down to the airlock, and faced Bahzím. “I’m coming with you.”
    “This is for experienced walkers only, Toron. I’m sorry.”
    “I know how to spacewalk, Bahzím.”
    “You don’t have enough hours, Toron. If the sky was clear, I wouldn’t have any issue, but there’s a lot of debris out there. Anything could happen.”
    “My daughter is out there.”
    Bahzím hesitated.
    “There’s one lifeline left,” said Toron. “I just counted. You have room for one more person.”
    “He can come with me and Vico,” said Father. “We’ll need someone to hold our lines clear while we work the saws.”
    Bahzím looked unsure. “You don’t have a suit, Toron.”
    “He can wear Marco’s,” Victor said. “They’re about the same height.”
    Bahzím considered this then sighed. “Hurry. I’m closing this hatch in two minutes.”
    Toron nodded his thanks to Father and Victor then quickly changed into Marco’s suit.
    They hurried into the airlock, and Bahzím sealed the hatch behind them. Everyone unspooled a lifeline from the racks along the wall and attached it to the back of his partner’s suit. Then came the helmets. Bahzím typed in the all-clear, and fresh air and heat filled Victor’s suit. Everyone took a moment to inspect the suits and lifelines of those around them. When all was clear, Bahzím punched in another command, and Victor’s HUD blinked on. Live video of the wreckage outside appeared on Victor’s display, taken from the ship’s cameras. El Cavador’s spotlights cut through the darkness, lighting momentarily on a piece of wreckage, as if considering it, judging by its size and shape if it were a likely candidate for survivors. Apparently it wasn’t. The lights moved on. Victor’s heart sank. There was so much debris. So much destruction. How could he possibly find Janda in all this?
    The first bodies appeared shortly thereafter. Two of them. Men. Stiff with death. The spotlights rested on them, but the men were thankfully at such a distance that Victor couldn’t make out their faces. The lights moved on.
    A few minutes later the ship came upon a large piece of wreckage. El Cavador’s retrorockets fired, and the ship slowed and then stopped alongside the wreckage.
    “Listen up,” said Bahzím. “We’re opening the doors. First ones out are Chepe and Pitoso. They’ll do a quick scan while the rest of us hang tight. If they detect something, the rest of us go in.”
    The wide bay doors opened, and what had been video became a reality. The wreckage in front of them was a mangled heap of destruction: bent girders, severed conduit, twisted pipes, torn foam insulation, crunched deck and hull plates. It looked as if it had been ripped from the ship instead of