By dinner time the suits are clean and we’re rested. Chin has no complications; Gunther has been out of his suit staggering around a bit. Johann hasn’t come out, but he wants to know when the party starts.
Mary Mayking’s down to 18 hours of battle power, But except for the right arm, she’s fully functional. Fixing that arm is going to require some depot time. There are some mighty thin spots in the armor, too, that are going to take depot time to fix, and she’ll be walking around with machine gun dents until depot time comes.
Jessie’s ablating and laser will also take depot time, but she’s carrying a lot of ammo, and she’s still at 20 hours.
Se-jong’s good as new. Well, compared to the rest of us. He’s lost some ablating, but all the limbs, sensors, and weapons work, and he’s got 20 battle hours left.
“Gunther. How’s Panther?” I ask.
“Commander, Panther is at 25 battle hours. All the projectile ammunition has been removed as well as the heavy laser and the jumpjets. It looks to have been removed, not destroyed—but until it’s replaced I don’t do any damage beyond giving a swift kick. The ablation armor is thin all over, but the projectile armor is intact. He has full sensors, full ground mobility, and one light laser.
“How about—”
“I’ve checked Stuka, too. The suit has 30 minutes of battle power. It is not repairing and will shut down within 24 hours. As with Panther, the ammunition, jumpjets, and heavy laser have been removed—”
“Rig up a power link with Panther,” I say.
Gunther stares at me. “Why drain Panther? Why not one of your suits?”
“So it begins,” I think. And say aloud, “Gunther, this is not an us-them thing. Panther is the next-least capable of the suits. The others can fight; yours can be used only for healing and scouting.”
“But she is only so because she has no ammunition. If you get our ammunition back, she will be as capable as any. Have you tried to find our ammo?”
“No, but I’ll ask this evening. In the meantime, plug Panther into Stuka. That suit’s healing Johann. I’m surprised you hadn’t done so already.”
“Yes, Commander.”
I’m about to say, “It’s Frank, not Commander,” but as long as Gunther is being a dick, I’ll let him use that title.
“Wait; Al, have we got city power down here?”
“Plenty, the main bus is on this level.”
“Can it be used as auxiliary power for the suits?”
“I don’t have the specs on it, but I don’t see why not. I’ll get on it.”
“Commander,” says Gunther, “if you don’t mind, let me take on this project. I apologize for not having thought of this solution myself.”
“It’s yours, Gunther. While you’re at it, rig up enough capacity to put all the suits on auxiliary. Call on us if you need any help.”
“Yes, Commander.” Gunther turns and starts attaching Panther to Stuka. I watch him for a while. He wastes no motion. He’s good with the machines.
“Al, have we got a link with the local communications net?”
“One line now, two more tomorrow. And John, one of those students that was here last night, has been made our liaison.”
I call him on our new local line. “John, I need two things right away: Uniforms for the party this evening—ours got shot up on the way down—and an off-world communications link. Can you arrange to have those ready in three hours?” I look over at Chin; she’s sacked out already.
“Yes, Commander.”
“It’s … never mind. Make those uniforms as generic as you can—basic black or something like that. We aren’t part of your armed forces. I’ll be in touch in three hours.” I break the connection.
“Al, have you rested?”
“No.”
“Gunther, you’ve got the fort. Al, get some sleep. Party tonight.”
“Yes, Commander.”