Battleground Mars by Eric Schneider

difference badly. He would always be inclined to bear a grudge against someone taller than himself. In his case, that meant pretty much all men in the human race. The acne scars on his bitter, thin face did little to endear him to the people he endlessly sparred with. Rahm wondered if he had ever had a close relationship with anyone. Probably not. He shifted his attention back to Fechter, ignoring Ryles.
    “Is that your last word, Jacques?”
    The man nodded. “It is, yes.”
    “I’ll tell them,” Rahm nodded and made to walk away. “Let us know if you change your mind, it would be good to be able to start the drilling again.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “The crews say that they want to see the recording and find out how Grant’s crew was ambushed, before they go out again. You can’t blame them. After all, we do need to know what we’re up against when we go out there again.”
    Ryle jumped to his feet, bristling with anger. Rahm thought he looked somewhat like an outraged peacock, although less dangerous. His ravaged face was angrier than ever. “That’s horseshit, Rahm, and you know it. We’re well aware of what we’re up against; we know it’s the Taurons, same as always.”
    “We?” Rahm arched an eyebrow and Tobin reddened and looked away.
    “You know what I mean,” he muttered weakly.
    Rahm made to walk out of the office, but Fechter called him back.
    “Alright, take the buggy and get the recording. You’d better get going, because I want you back here ready to start the next shift.”
    Rahm nodded. “I’ll tell the men.”
    “Let me see that recording when you get back. And for Christ’s sake, keep your eyes open for Taurons. I don’t want to lose any more of my teams.”
    Rahm walked out of the door and closed it behind him. Saul and Kacy were right behind him.
    “Our manager has decided to see the light.”
    They nodded. “I’ll get the buggy ready and the rest of the crew suited up and down to the garage,” Saul muttered.
    “We’ll need heavier weapons for this trip, I’ll see to it,” Kacy added. Rahm nodded his thanks. They walked back to the canteen, and Saul peeled away to the garage. Kacy put a hand on his arm. “One thing I have to know. Did the crews really refuse to go out until they’d seen the recording?”
    Rahm shook his head “I lied. With the management, it’s a question of knowing which button to push.”
    Thirty minutes later they were rolling across the Martian landscape. The drilling teams operated with six men. Rahm drove, and Saul Packer and Kacy Lakkin shared the front of the buggy with him. In the back were the other members of his crew, Brad Haakon, Nathan Wenders and Kaz Yasan. As usual, Yasan was silent, so it was difficult to know what went on behind that inscrutable expression. Kaz was a Muslim, but it was only one of three religions he worshipped. The second was the pursuit of wealth, and he intended to leave Mars with a hefty bank balance. The third was fighting, and he allowed few of the Koran’s inhibitions about violence to stop him getting involved in a serious scrap. Perhaps he was a throwback to his Arab ancestors. With his swarthy face, Semitic hook-nose and dark, brooding eyes, he wouldn’t have been out of place leading a warrior band against the Crusaders that invaded the Holy Land in the twelfth century. He held a heavy laser rifle and kept darting glances around them, looking for something to use it on. Nathan Wenders looked nervous, licking his dry lips. Several times Rahm felt his gaze fixed on him. He didn’t think he’d done anything to upset him, and Nathan had never suggested anything like that. Maybe he was gay, so he’d have to disappoint him on that score. Brad Haakon was re-assembling the swivel mount for his beloved laser cannon. Doubtless he was bored with the endless target simulations and longed for something real to shoot at. In six months this was the first prospect of real action. Except that they