Rebellion Ebook Full by B. V. Larson Page A

passing month. I often joked they would be able to convert me into a blue-eyed blond, if I wanted to be one, in a few years. They had studied human anatomy for decades prior to the invasion, but that was different than real trauma recovery.
    It was miraculous to watch when they flowed over an open wound. I winced when I checked on my injured men, knowing the itch they felt and the gagging tastes of metal in their mouths. A common unpleasant side-effect was sudden blindness that struck when too many clustered around the optical nerve, shorting it out, or went for a swim in the aqueous fluid.
    But one could not argue, despite these inconveniencies, the nanites were a godsend. They weren’t like a surgeon—they were like a million tiny surgeons, able to stitch up something as small as an individual cellular membrane. They weren’t as small as viruses, but they could be as small as a single microbe. They were like intelligent, metal microbes that worked in tandem to do amazing things.
    The seven assault ships I’d sent back to the ring to pick up the rest of my men had reached them by now. They hadn’t finished the retrieval process, however. It wasn’t easy. My marines were floating around out there in the dark, drifting away from one another. Many were on emergency power and didn’t even have working transponders. I returned to the command brick after ninety minutes and had Sandra contact the pilots.
    “Time to finish up out there, Major Welter,” I said, calling my squad leader. Major Kurt Welter was new, and newly promoted, but he’d done well back on Helios. He was my replacement for Captain Roku, who’d died in his hovertank on Helios. Welter had flown with the Fleet back at Andros Island—before the Nanos had taken off and abandoned Earth. That rare flying experience had led me to put him in command of the assault ships.
    “We’ve recovered most of them, sir. We’re down to the ones that aren’t responding.”
    “You mean the bodies?” I asked.
    “Mostly. Every few minutes, we find one that is still breathing, however. They can’t signal us if their power has dropped too far, and many are partly frozen. I’m not sure how much good they will be in the upcoming fight.”
    “They won’t be much good at all,” I said. “That’s not why we’re picking them up.”
    “Of course not, sir,” Welter said smoothly. “But by the calculations, we soon won’t have enough time to participate in the attack…unless you want us to use these troops we just picked up?”
    I thought about that, and I didn’t like it. I couldn’t expect these men to fight, not after they’d been floating out here for days. “Here’s what we’re going to do, Kurt,” I said. “Move all the survivors off one ship and put them aboard the other five. Then leave the empty ship on rescue for now. The other six will then head back to the mothership.”
    “Roger that, sir.”
    “And Major Welter? The ship you leave behind will not be yours. I want you leading this assault.”
    “Assumed, sir. Welter out.”
    I looked at Gorski when the connection closed. “Will they make it?”
    He nodded. “They’ve got to hurry. But barring any further surprises or acceleration on the part of the Macros—then yes, barely.”
    Seven ships. That was what I had to work with. That, plus sixteen hundred one-man capsules. I didn’t like to think about what might happen to all those men in nanite soap-bubbles if my assault ships didn’t make it back in time to breach the hull of the target satellite for them.
    One benefit of having the Macros blow the doors open on us and having my ships out there was the superior dataflow coming from the assault squadron’s collective sensors. They weren’t exactly scout ships, but they were a lot better than the single array I had embedded in the Macro ship’s hull.
    “Let’s take a look at the target list and what we know about them.”
    “I’m certain we are headed for the outermost habitable