Silent Running

A city under siege is a children's playground gone mad. Once a welcoming locale bustling with cheer and purpose, it hides itself as best it can and allows its empty streets to succumb to the impending whispers of death. Those who brave the corridors and roads after night has fallen find themselves in a lost world of dark buildings, flickering windows, and shadows where none have a right to be. Silence punctuated by frantic motors gunning through red lights, snatches of broadcast where serious voices try to impart calm for no good reason, distant cries of terror, and the occasional fearsome punctuation of gunfire. Lightning flares on the horizon, followed by the billowing roars of thundering artillery. And the thunder is coming closer.

Nemo paused and hugged the ground. Ahead was a skyline where the road continued over the hill of the residential district. Framing himself against the sky was an invitation for anyone with a gun and suspect loyalties. He was pretty sure that Roller snipers hadn't reached this part of the city yet, but there was never any good way to know until after the bullets hit. He scuttled forward on all fours, tail low to the ground, aiming for the sidewalk where a light pole would oblige him with some cover.

Once safely in its shadow, he risked a glance over the top of the hill. A subvocal mew activated his HUD and another switched the scope's infrared scanner on. Closing one eye, he looked through his HUD at the townhouses in front of him. Through the scope, the buildings took on a grayish-green hue and the shadows morphed into impenetrable black patches. There were one or two small heat sources, which his HUD noted. Zooming in, he found them to be pigeons nesting in the crevices and corners. There were no large, colorful amorphous blobs to announce themselves as enemy troops, no purple lines or vortices to indicate unmanned hunter-killer units. The neighborhood looked to be abandoned. He sniffed deeply, sampling the air. While his sense of smell wasn't as keen as that of a dog, it still served him well. The air smelled of gunpowder, exhaust, dust, and a leftover undercurrent of fear-based pheromones. Nothing around here smelled fresh. There was no one around him.

He noted his battery levels at eighty-seven percent. He still had to make the rendezvous and then slip past the Roller line to his retrieval point on the shore of Lake Michigan. If he was careful, his charge would last him through the night.

Nemo issued a subvocal command and a overlay of a map with his route and destination appeared in his vision. It jarred with his infrared and Nemo hissed in agitation before remembering to turn it off. The world returned to its normal hues and Nemo spent another two minutes reviewing his destination and how to get there safely.

He growled and huffed, and the overlay expanded to show the Grand Rapids city limits with the anticipated position and direction of enemy forces. He wasn't able to establish a com link with United Command, as the Rollers would notice the data feed and try to triangulate his position. As he watched, the enemy markers continued their approach and the numbers indicated he had less than an hour before they breached the actual city limits. Nemo wondered how the city's defenses had been able to withstand the onslaught to begin with. His eyes lifted to note the flashes of light along the city's eastern and southern perimeters. His tail whipped back and forth in agitation. It was going to be close.

Nemo hacked and the HUD shut down, sliding away from his eyes. He had a good idea now of how to get to his destination. He was one of the best when it came to courier detail. He perked his ears and listened carefully. After a moment he crept out from behind the light pole. He moved to his right, and leapt up and over a tall wooden fence to land inside the side yard of the nearest townhouse. Then he resumed his intended direction, slinking his way through backyards and over fences.

Humans tended to pay too much attention to roads. They had problems with trying to think outside of their species and so imagined that Newbreeds would regard roads with the same importance they did. Nemo had learned this when he'd gone through Recon training. It was an insight the first few generations of Newbreeds discovered and had passed on to their descendents. Bypass the roads and you escaped human attention. The rule was time-tested and the Newbreed Recon units used it to immense advantage against their human Roller counterparts. He'd personally surprised several enemy snipers by ignoring rooftops and roads in favor of backyards, alleys, and other avenues of travel. It might take him a little longer to reach his destination, but he'd be alive and that was what mattered. And if he left behind a couple of sniper corpses, so much the better.

Nemo's rendezvous point was on the other side of the Grand river, in an old brick building that'd been renovated into offices to keep it from the wrecking ball. Much of the city's population had evacuated upon news of the imminent invasion, but there were a few Sentient sympathizers left and United Command needed ears on the ground. It was Nemo's assignment to meet up with the head of the soon-to-be resistance movement here and deliver the instructions from HQ. Those instructions were encased in a small memory stick secreted on the inside of his vox helmet and only for the eyes of his contact.

Thirty minutes later, Nemo stood in an alley and eyed the Grand river and the bridge in front of him with distaste. He'd seen more people here in the core of the city. Glassy-eyed refugees huddling in the open doorways of churches and schools, panicked parents trying to calm their children, people overcome with stress shouting at each other; none of them had seen Nemo pass. He was rather proud of that. Although why all these humans had retreated to the core of the city was beyond him. If it would have been him, he would have left as soon as he could and headed north into the countryside. The thunder of the artillery was getting louder now. He'd spotted battered civilian vehicles racing through the streets with wounded men and women, heading for hospitals that he guessed were filled to overflowing. As he neared the river, he saw groups of cars packed with people and belongings starting to move northward. Judging by the facial expressions, Nemo suspected that the city's defenses had fallen. Grand Rapids was about to be overrun by the enemy. And now he was here, eyeing a river with a lot of cold water and a bridge with no shelter. The water even smelled cold, and if it smelled cold then you KNEW it was cold. If he were to cross the bridge, he'd be completely exposed. Yet the river was running high, and that water could probably freeze him to death within minutes. He dithered for a few minutes, trying to decide whether to chance the bridge or the river. His destination was on the other side – he could see it from where he was squatting. He had little time left; if he wasn't at his destination at the exact time, his contact would assume he was taken and leave. Nemo hadn't failed a mission yet and he wasn't about to now.

His solution came in the form of a station wagon. He heard a vehicle approaching the bridge and realized that it was coming from his direction. He looked to his right and gauged the distance from where he was to the main thoroughfare that the bridge handled. The car might go over the bridge, and if it did... he could use it to shield his flank. Nemo scrunched down, his hind legs digging in and tail twitching. He tensed himself, generating pressure with his hind legs as a runner would prior to the pistol going off.

The car emerged from the gap between the buildings, a heavily-laden early model Ford with several humans inside. He paused long enough to confirm the vehicle was going to cross the bridge, and then he exploded forward, legs churning as he dashed for the vehicle. Ears flat, mouth open in a snarl, Nemo ran as hard as he could for the gap between the side of the car and the sidewalk on the bridge. Every moment he was in the open was a moment he could be shot and killed. Tail stiff and bushy, he curved at the last moment and achieved the space between the car and the bridge.

Inside the car he heard a female human scream, followed immediately by the higher voices of several children. A heavier male voice swore, and the car's brakes squealed. Nemo swore loudly, and increased his pace, darting away from the vehicle. As he raced the rest of the length of the bridge, he heard a frightened, angry voice behind him.

"GODDAMN FUCKING NEWBREEDS! I HOPE YOU ALL BURN IN H..." the man's voice roared, his voice fading into incoherence. Nemo, too busy to react, sprinted for the shelter of an adjacent alley entrance he saw. With every pace, part of his mind repeated an all-too-familiar mantra to every member of Recon regardless of species whenever they were caught out in the open: 'please-don't-shoot-please-don't-shoot-please-don't-shoot...'.

Nemo reached the entrance of the alley, curved around, and threw himself against the wall behind an open garbage dumpster. It was a miracle, as the humans would say. Nemo, panting, closed his eyes and gave thanks to the great boss cat in the sky, He who held all nine lives of cats everywhere. One time Nemo had been told that the name of that cat was Tibalt. He doubted this though as everyone knew that a cat answered to whatever name it felt like, including none.

He held his breath as he heard the car he'd passed pull up outside the entrance of the alley. He couldn't be seen behind the dumpster, but...

A door opened and he heard the sounds of sobbing children.

"FRANK, NO! Let's just go! Get back in the car!" That was the woman who had screamed initially.

"Shut up Lois!" the man yelled. "Goddamn fucking son a of a bitch..." he muttered, "goddamn Newbreeds scaring the fuck out of my family..." Nemo heard the man advance a couple of steps into the alley. A few more and he'd be seen. The stench of rage and fear wafted to his nostrils. The man was not thinking clearly, lost in the chemical reactions of his panic. Nemo silently gathered himself and made ready to pounce. He didn't want to kill the man, but he only had three minutes left before he met up with his contact.

"FRANK! GET BACK IN THE CAR! THE ROLLERS ARE IN THE CITY!" Lois screamed. Behind her, the kids were crying even louder now. "Brad, Carla, be quiet! FRAAAANK! FRAAAAANK!"

"You fucking monsters!" the man named Frank yelled out. "I hope you all get shot! I hope you all fucking die! Humans FIRST you fucking cunt...bag! Just fucking DIE!" The man trembled with rage, clenching his fists. Then he turned around to return to his crying wife and children. A moment later, the car's wheels screeched against the pavement and they took off.

A moment later, Nemo crept out from behind the dumpster. He'd recovered his breath and he stood still, watching the direction in which the man had driven off with his ears flattened. It was moments like this that made him wonder why Man was worth saving. He'd never asked to be put on the feed. Nor had he asked to be given the gift of self-awareness. Yet here he was, alive and self-aware. He could read and count. He could recognize himself in a mirror. He could communicate. All this was because some humans had decided that sharing the gift of self-awareness was good. And yet here he was, blamed for all the problems mankind created for itself. As if he was responsible for humans deciding to make war on each other.

If only he had a chance to answer that man, Nemo thought as he moved towards the entrance to the building that was his rendezvous, if only he had a chance to respond. He would knock the human to the ground, sit on his chest, and stare him in the eyes. And then... and then he would make a very blunt observation to the scared human – for he would be very scared, oh yes – that there were NO Newbreeds to be found amongst the HUMANS attacking the city and what did he think of that? And Nemo would sit there for as long as it took that stupid human to figure it out. Or until he grew bored and bit the man's face off – which in his daydreams was sometimes just as satisfying.

Nemo paused inside the open doorway and with a huff directed his vox to activate. His HUD came up and he saw the lit green dot in the corner of his vision. He huffed and growled again.

"Mechanic," Nemo's vox said, giving the identification phrase.

"Michael," came the response from the darkness. That was the correct response and Nemo moved out of the doorway and into the welcoming darkness. He hated that part of the procedure. It pained him to frame himself in an open doorway and make himself a ripe target. It was necessary though. It was too easy to set a bomb with a speaker and a radio receiver.

Behind him the door closed and for a moment everyone was in darkness. Nemo's natural night vision took over and he saw three people: two women and an older man to his right. The two women held rifles in their hand and he assumed they'd been pointed in his direction a moment ago.

"Watch your eyes." the man said. Nemo closed them and then a light came on. He opened his eyelids a moment later and blinked as his pupils contracted.

"Welcome, friend." the man said and advanced forward. He knelt down and met Nemo's gaze evenly. A short man, he had gray hair at his temples and wrinkles around his eyes. Nemo decided he liked him.

"Call me Fred," he said, and extended his hand. Nemo padded forward and sniffed. The man exuded calm, though there was an undercurrent of tension. Nemo smelled the fear of the two women and realized that things were a lot worse in the city than he'd thought. Upon closer examination none of the three humans looked to have been eating well. All three were somewhat gaunt, and the bags underneath the eyes of the women told him they hadn't been sleeping much.

"I had a big black cat once," the man continued as he lowered his hand. "Got him as a kitten from the pound. Fearless guy. Never backed down from anything, even me." The man laughed. "I can't tell you the number of times he scratched me, bit me, or beat up the family dog just for fun. Had him for twenty years... led a long and full life, beat the shit out of most everything that crossed his path, and got wet food on a regular basis. Don't suppose you could ask for more than that, really."

"What was his name?" Nemo asked.

"Pooky." Fred said.

"Pooky?" Nemo replied, unable to keep the disgust out of his voice. Fred laughed out loud, and after a moment the women did too.

"It was my wife's choice. I blame her for his attitude problem. Kept telling her, 'Toots, it's your fault. You gave him a sissy name and now he's gonna beat the living hell out of anything that moves until you take it back.' Of course, she never did. Thought the name was cute." He sighed.

"My name is Nemo." Nemo said.

Fred nodded. "Like in the Odyssey?" he asked.

Nemo nodded. "Yes." he said through his vox.

Fred straightened up. "I see a lot of Pooky in you, Nemo," he said. "Big... really big black cat. Mean expression. It's like you're him reincarnated."

Nemo ignored the comment. "Is this location safe?" he asked.

Fred nodded. "For the moment it is. I've got word that the Rollers have penetrated city limits on the South, and the Firsters are on the east." Nemo swung his head to regard Fred in surprise. Fred nodded in response. "Yup, those aren't Evangelicals on our eastern flank. My guess is, the Firsters have decided to join an alliance with the Confederates. Which isn't good news for us at all. We got the union boys from Detroit coming at us along with the boys from Wichita. I imagine the announcement's gone out while you were coming here." He sighed. "So much for the good ol' USA..." he said in a mild tone.

Nemo was still thinking over the ramifications of this in his head. If this was true... then an awful lot of cats would be running through their nine lives in a hurry. "You need what I have then, and I have to get out of here." he said to Fred.

"That's about right," Fred agreed. "We've got to get you out of here before they blockade the city."

"It's behind my helmet, magnetically sealed." Nemo said, and turned his head to allow Fred access. While the women watched with hands tightening on their rifles, Fred reached out and searched the metal lip of Nemo's helmet with his fingertips. He shifted, eyes askance while his fingers searched through fur and across metal.

"Ah, got it!" Fred announced, and removed a small encased chip. "Well, can't wait to read what this has to say. I assume it's a one-time-only?"

Nemo nodded in response.

Fred put the chip away in his shirt pocket, and then squatted in front of Nemo again. "I'm going to send you out of here, Nemo, and I want you to pay attention. When you leave this building, you're going to go through a tunnel we dug out for you. Stay north for two blocks, and then follow the river. I assume you've got a pick-up point somewhere out to the north or the west of here. Stay hidden, stay quiet. And I want you to take this message back to your superiors. The message is this: we will teach the children quietly."

"We will teach the children quietly." Nemo repeated. It was probably a code phrase or something. He never understood these crazy coded phrases that humans came up with. Carrying computer chips, now that was something he understood.

"Very good. Now, let's get you out of here. When you get out of the tunnel, there'll be some people waiting for you. If they're not doing anything, then its safe to proceed. If there's a problem, well... you'll know it and they'll cover you." Fred said. He stood up. "Okay girls, show him out."

The women directed Nemo over to a portion of the wall where some crates were stacked up. They set aside their rifles and within minutes revealed a small rough tunnel just barely big enough for him to slip through. He sniffed at it and his ears swiveled back as the distant scent of rank sewage drifted through.

"Good luck Nemo," one of the women said softly.

"Godspeed." wished the other to him. He looked at one woman, and then the other, and realized that he would never see these three again. As there was nothing to say, he blinked and then slinked into the tunnel. Behind him the crates moved back into position, casting him in total darkness. He huffed and brought up his infrared scope. The tunnel sloped upwards and he shuffled along, grimacing at how his fur was quickly matted with stinking mud. He turned a slight bend and saw a bright glow ahead. Directing the scope to shut off, his eyes adjusted and he made out another curve in the tunnel. Light was coming down the portion of the tunnel he couldn't see and he wondered if he would emerge out of an exposed hole in the ground.

Nemo crept forward and peeked around the tunnel wall. He saw the opening of the tunnel up ahead. A large cement wall occupied most of the available view and blocked out the sunlight. At least he would have cover from one direction. He continued his ascent until he drew level with the opening. He slowly stuck his head out, looking around.

He was between the large cement wall and another garbage dumpster. There was enough room for him to get out. He also smelled four humans in close proximity. A second sniff told him it was two females and two males, and two were young. He emerged from the hole carefully and looked around. The people were unaware of his presence. He mewed softly and tensed, just in case things were not as they seemed.

Hurried footsteps against the gravel warned him a moment before a young girl's face appeared around the edge. Her face was smudged and Nemo saw the same gaunt, worn look in her eyes that he'd seen on the faces of the women below. This girl was in her teens, Nemo judged, close in relative age to himself. What was she doing here?

The girl's face lit up in a relieved smile. "Hi," she whispered, "glad to see you got here and that you talked with Fred." She turned to gesture to someone behind her and Nemo saw the long barrel and stock of a rifle with a hunting scope slung across her back. Belt pouches containing ammunition hung at her waist. His tail twitched. What was going on here? She turned back to him and beckoned. "Come on, coast is clear for the moment."

Nemo slunk out from behind the dumpster to see a boy close in age to the girl, an older man, and an older woman. He immediately knew that the children belonged to the woman, but he couldn't figure out the relation of the man. The older woman walked over to him quickly and knelt down.

"Jake, Sara, take look-outs. Do it now. Mr. Emmonds, will you cover me?" the woman asked. She also had gray streaks through her hair and appeared even more gaunt. Nemo wondered if she had eaten anything lately. The boy and girl both ran away in separate directions, each pulling their rifles over their backs. Mr. Emmonds, a grizzled old man in dark green flannel and worn cordoroys swung up his enormous rifle and began scanning the skyline around them.

The sound of a whistling mortar filled the air and everyone flung themselves to the ground as an explosion shook the ground. Nemo hissed, eyes darting around. He saw the column of smoke after a moment, rising into the air from what appeared to be three blocks away.

The woman looked up, mud and dirt dripping from her face. "Shit," she spat, "they're moving in faster than we thought." She looked over at Nemo. "Okay, we've got a car nearby. We're going to put you in the back and get you out of town. You ready?"

Nemo nodded. "Show me where your car is," he said. They both rose to their feet, Mr. Emmonds already up and moving in the direction where Nemo supposed the car was located at. He moved quickly, knees bent, rifle tracking everywhere he looked. The man was a veteran, Nemo surmised.

"MOM!" Sara shouted. Everyone turned to look at the corner where Sara knelt, aiming with her rifle. "We've got company!" she shouted, "It's a lady and she's carrying something and running towards us! And she's hurt!"

"Sara, honey, don't move! Keep your gun aimed, we don't know what might be wrong!"

"Got it Mom!" Sara returned. She cocked her rifle and renewed her aim. After a moment she spoke loudly. "Stop! Stop, or I'll shoot!"

"Please!" came the distant, panting response, "don't shoot! I've got puppies! Don't shoot!"

Sara looked back over her shoulder at her mother, eyes wide. "Do I shoot?" she mouthed. Sara's mother paused, an expression of indecision on her face. Then she shook her head. "Damn the woman! God damn her! Tell her to stop and put down what she's carrying. We need to see it."

Sara nodded and shouted, "Put down the box where we can see it!" They waited then, watching Sara look through the scope of her rifle. Another whistle and a near-by explosion caused them all to flinch. Sara put down the rifle and gave a thumbs up. "It's a couple of puppies, really young ones. And it looks like she's been shot, Mom."

"Please!" begged the distant woman. "Help me! They're burning the puppies! They're burning the PUPPIES!"

The woman and Nemo exchanged shocked looks. Sara was already up and around the corner. Her mother noticed and ran towards the corner. "Sara, no! NO!" She pulled out a pistol from her waistband and turned the corner, gun aiming.

"Come on!" the man Emmonds said to Nemo and Jake as he followed after her at a stumbling run. Nemo paused for a moment, and then decided to go and look. Jake was already sprinting for the street.

They found Sara and her mother kneeling down on the side of the street with an older woman. Blood covered the front of her jacket and was pooling on the sidewalk. Next to her was a cardboard box tipped on its side. Inside was an old ratty-looking green blanket, a plastic bag filled with a white liquid, and five small puppies. By Nemo's judgement they had just managed to open their eyes.

A closer look at the woman laying on the sidewalk revealed her to be a veterinary tech. Her jacket was worn over a set of blood-soaked medical scrubs. The woman's wispy hair framed a face white from shock and covered with trails from her tears. She was babbling as Nemo and Mr. Emmonds came up to them.

"... hit the clinic! Armed men, breaking in! They were shooting our animals! They took us prisoner and made us stand next to the tanks... then they shot all the adult dogs and cats. And the puppies!" She broke off, gasping for air. Sara grabbed her hand and held it. The woman fought her way back to lucidity and looked straight at Nemo. "You have to take the puppies! Please! They're burning the puppies! I snuck these out, but they took the rest and," here she gulped, her face twisting in horror, "they were burning the puppies alive! Took them out and tossed them in a fire! And the kittens too! Oh god! I couldn't stop them! I COULDN'T STOP THEM!!" The woman broke down, weeping fresh tears. Sara cradled the woman in her arms, her face filled with horror. Her face turned to Nemo, along with the others.

Nemo stood there in shook. He'd thought the stories had been just that, stories. Propaganda spread by humans to encourage the Newbreeds to fight against their creators. He'd known of the acts of terror committed by various human supremacist groups, but figured that it was isolated. Now though... he looked over at the puppies. They looked well fed, and the liquid appeared to be milk. They were young enough to take the Feed, to spur their growth and development. Their genetic code could still be rewritten to allow for temporal lobes and the other parts needed to bring about sentient self-awareness. Which was why the Rollers were burning them alive and shooting the adults. To them, these puppies were a potential blasphemy.

The sound of vehicles in the distance caused everyone to look up. Emmonds swore and spat. "Those are APCs or I'm a monkey's uncle," he growled. "And they're coming this way."

Sara's mother sat back, a blank expression on her face. Jake and Sara looked at each other, and then at their mother. Their mother looked down at the dying woman in Sara's arms, then at her children. She then looked at the puppies, and then at Nemo. She swallowed. Nemo looked at her.

"Change of plans," she said huskily. "You," she said to Nemo, "are going to have to get to your destination on your own. And take the puppies with you. We'll bundle them up. We are going to divert those APCs and buy you time." Nemo could only nod.

Jake moved first and went to the box with the puppies. With shaking hands, he bound up the whimpering puppies inside their blanket along with the packet of milk. He tied off the blanket with a knot, and Nemo picked it up with his mouth. The sounds of the engines in the distance grew louder.

"Okay," the woman said, wiping tears away with her hands, "you're going to take that street over there, and keep heading north. After two blocks cross east. You'll come to the river. Just follow the river and it'll get you out of the city towards where you need to go. Understand?"

Nemo nodded again, his mouth full with the musty blanket. Within, the puppies wriggled and whined.

The woman moved over to Nemo and took his head in her hands. With a frightening intensity she looked into his eyes. "You MUST make it. Don't let my children die in vain. Do you understand?" she whispered.

Nemo, unable to move, subvocalized. His vox said, "Yes," in a subdued voice.

"Then go. GO! And may God be with you." the woman commanded. Nemo surged forth immediately, turning around and sprinting for the distant street that the woman had pointed out. He reached the corner and saw that nothing was coming. So he stopped and looked back. And saw the woman, her children, and the old man racing the other direction across the street. As he watched, he saw the woman lift her pistol and fire at an unseen target. A moment later, he heard a heavy-caliber machine gun roar in response and a trail of bullets ripped across the patch of asphalt they'd been standing on. All them opened fire as they continued to run, moving out of Nemo's line of sight.

Nemo kept watching for a moment. He heard tires squeal, and the thrum of distant motors moving in a new direction – away from him. The path was clear. He turned and ran as hard as he could.
--

It was late, and cold on the shores of Lake Michigan. Mitchell grimaced behind his facemask at the cold water seeping in through his wetsuit. At least there wasn't any moonlight, he thought to himself. Nothing worse than being cold, wet, and exposed by the moonlight when you're supposed to be hiding. The raft was sitting in the shadow of a fallen log and both he and his partner Jessie were waiting behind big boulders partially submerged in the lake. Jessie had a good sniper position set up, while he was watching his com unit monitor. Seven more minutes and if the cat didn't show up, then they'd get on the raft and back out to the submarine. He groaned and shifted his feet as his calves were beginning to cramp up. Nemo was over two hours late and that wasn't like him. They'd gotten spot transmissions from him as he made his way out of the city – what a fucking disaster that was. The Firsters had declared their alliance with the Confederation at the same time that the (now-former) forces of the Michigan National Guard were moving to take Windsor and the rest of the state. They'd caught the U.S. by surprise. He wondered if the Canadians were holding out. And if they were, could they hold long enough for the sub to make it through the canals and the river?

His com unit lit up and a green triangle appeared. On the screen the triangle showed itself to be fifty feet away from their position. Jessie had already taken aim and was ready, her rifle trained on the entrance to the cove. Three minutes later a long black shape slipped into the cove and stood at the edge of the water.

Mitchell flicked on his night-vision and saw Nemo standing on the banks, clutching a sack with multiple writhing heat signatures in his mouth. He scanned the woods in back of Nemo, but saw no heat signatures. "All clear?" he whispered over the comlink to Jessie.

"All clear," she concurred. He then opened up a link to Nemo.

"Glad to see you made it, buddy. We were worried about you."

After a moment the reply came. "I am happy to see you too. I have puppies in need of feed. Do we have any?"

Mitchell moved out from behind the boulder, grateful to get his limbs moving again. Jessie continued to be watchful, moving the rifle and searching the area for anything out of place.

"Yup, we've got a couple of feeds on the sub. What do you have there in the bag?"

"Puppies. The Rollers overran the city and were burning them alive. Kittens too."

Mitchell paused in the water, shocked. "I'm so sorry," he said after a moment, and swallowed. "Those fucking bastards." He waded over to Nemo and took the bag. Nemo yawned and worked his jaw. Mitchell noted his tail was limp and dragging the ground. The big cat was exhausted.

"You stay here, I'll get the raft." Mitchell said and put the bag of puppies down. One of them whimpered as the bundle met the cold wet sand.

"What kept you so long? Didn't you get a ride out to the drop point?" Mitchell asked as he waded and then swam over to grab the raft.

"No. They gave their lives to divert the enemy so I could get out. I ran all the way here." came the response.

As they loaded the tired cat and the precious cargo into the raft, Mitchell met Jessie's eyes. She looked down at the blanket containing the puppies, and at Nemo curling around them, giving his warmth. Then she looked back at him. Neither could think of anything to say. Jessie climbed into the raft and Mitchell pushed off. They had a submarine to meet and Mitchell would make damn sure that United Command knew what was going on. And that Nemo got all the credit due him.