The Lion and the Unicorn

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  He felt warm, despite the armour’s cooling units. Alerts flashed up in his helmet, cautioning him about droplets of viral matter in the air. Ice ran down his back. The planet had only been occupied for four years, yet it was already practically uninhabitable. The virus was everywhere. He stared at a deer-like creature, grazing near the complex. It raised its head and looked at him. Colin shivered, helplessly. The virus had infected dogs and cats. Why couldn’t it infect an alien creature?

  The creature leapt at him. Colin shot it, his bullets tearing the body apart. Chunks of blood and gore landed everywhere. Colin felt sick. The bullets had been illegal, five years ago. They inflicted so much damage that shooting someone in the leg could easily prove fatal, if the victim didn’t receive medical attention quickly. Now … no one thought twice about using them. The zombies had to be taken down before they could tear him and his men apart with their bare hands. Ripping their bodies apart was the only way to guarantee a kill.

  “Jesus,” Willis said. “You killed Bambi.”

  Colin swallowed the response that came to mind as he hurled a grenade at the door, blowing it off its hinges. The station looked unmanned, but he knew better. The virus was drifting through the air, perhaps even linked to the station’s command and control system. He threw a pair of antiviral grenades into the corridors, then charged through. Two figures hurled themselves at him, only to be blown away before they could get close. Colin felt sick. He had no qualms about killing terrorists, or enemy spacers, but the people in front of him had been innocent. The virus had turned them into slaves.

  They swept the rest of the complex quickly, moving from room to room. He couldn’t help noticing how little concern the virus showed for its hosts. Some of them were unclothed, some were injured … one of them, he thought, would have died if the virus hadn’t infected his body. It looked very much as though the virus had done more than just take control of his nervous system. It had literally rebuilt enough of the bone structure to keep the body functioning. Colin refused to admit it could be breathing.

  More alerts flashed up in his HUD as they entered the control centre. It was very decidedly civilian, right down to a complete lack of security. Colin wondered why the virus hadn’t improved on the system, then snorted at himself for not thinking straight. The virus didn’t need to install elaborate security systems. There was no such thing as independent thought within its society. It could no more betray itself than Colin could deliberately lose an exercise.

  He attached the datanet node to the console, then keyed the switch. The WebHeads had wanted to drop with the marines, but Major Craig had overruled them. The risk of being captured and infected was just too high. Even now, there were horror stories of men who’d made the mistake of removing their masks … Colin thought he would never do anything so stupid, but he had to admit it was possible. It wasn’t easy to be aware of one’s surroundings in a helmet. He’d take off the helmet in a heartbeat if it was safe.

  “Link established,” a female voice said. The WebHead, probably. Colin had never met her, or any of the other analysts. Her voice was brisk, utterly businesslike. “Download starting … now.”

  Colin smiled to himself. The WebHead might be all business now, but who knew what she was like off duty? Perhaps he could ask her out, during the long flight home. She might be the kind of person to be impressed by a marine. Or simply desperate for some company … he shook his head as the download continued, the WebHead steadily hacking her way through the system. It was a pleasant fantasy, but nothing more. For all he knew, the WebHead might be more interested in women than men.

  He put the thought to one side as he checked the live feed from the sensor drones. The majority of the marines and ground combat units had landed to the south, taking up positions near the city. There was no hint of a major enemy response, but it was just a matter of time. The entire planet was infected. The virus had to feel their presence, like a needle jammed into human flesh. Or a splinter, perhaps. He knew from experience that splinters were painful, but normally harmless. The virus might believe the landing party would fall victim to it eventually. It was in for a nasty fright.

  The remainder of the station was completely empty, save for the ever-present viral matter. The beds seemed untouched, as if they’d been left to decay for the past few years. Colin felt an odd sense of unreality as he peeked into empty food cabinets, noting how the virus had made no attempt to replace the food. It was supposed to be able to consume anything, he recalled. If human likes and dislikes were no longer an issue, he supposed it could simply strip the bark from the trees and eat that. There’d be almost no nutritional value, but … it might not care.

  He frowned as three more shuttles landed, unloading the reinforcements. Colin didn’t salute as the CO hurried towards him - salutes were forbidden in combat zones, although no one knew if the virus cared enough to watch - but nodded tersely. There was no point in taking chances. Besides, the very air itself was turned against them. He checked the live feed as the CO surveyed the terraforming station. The BioBombs were being deployed. He half-expected to see flashes of light, to feel the ground shaking under his feet as the weapons went off, even though it was silly. The counter-virus was nothing more than a … a virus.

  “Good work,” the CO said, curtly. “Is your fire team ready for redeployment?”

  “Yes, sir,” Colin said. He wasn’t sure quite how the chain of command functioned, with so many different units trying to operate in the same general area, but he was very definitely outranked. “We can rejoin the remainder of the marines or …”

  “I want you to check out the nearest village,” the CO said. “The BioBombs should have hit it by now.”

  Colin nodded, gathered his men and set off. The road was pathetic - it reminded him of some of the older roads he’d seen, so badly used it was practically on the verge of breaking up - although it was relatively new. He wondered if it was deliberate. The settlers had needed the roads, but they’d also needed a lot of other things. And the virus had probably not cared enough to keep maintaining the network. He eyed the trees warily as they closed in, all too aware that anything could be lurking within the shadows. Infected monkeys carrying grenades and IEDs had proven a deadly threat in the past.

  He felt sweat trickling down his back as the road suddenly widened to reveal a farming village. Or what he thought was a village. The neat fields were so heavily overgrown that he couldn’t help feeling it had been abandoned years ago. He was no farming expert, but even he knew crops had to be rotated to keep the crops fresh or something. The barn in the distance looked empty. Up close, there was a gaping hole in the wooden roof. The farmhouse itself was a ruin.

  “Shit,” Davies whispered. “What the fuck happened here?”

  “I guess the virus couldn’t be arsed growing food,” Colin said, although he wasn’t sure it was true. If the virus could eat anything, it didn’t have to worry about crop rotation and shit like that. “We’d better check the farmhouse.”

  He called in as they reached the house and inched inside. It had been nice, once. Now, it was a ruin. Everything had rusted. A faded painting of a dark-skinned couple hung from the wall. Mould grew everywhere. He drew his bioscanner from his belt and pressed it against the nearest patch, unsurprised to pick up viral traces. The virus was truly everywhere. He wondered, suddenly, if the host bodies would eventually die. The virus had managed to maintain a civilisation, but … was that an illusion? He didn’t want to think about it.

  “Got movement outside, Corporal,” Willis said.

  “Call it in,” Colin snapped. A flash of excitement ran through him as he crawled to the window and peered out. Dozens of infected people stood there, watching the farmhouse through terrifyingly blank eyes. They were flanked by cows and lambs and goats and horses and … he shuddered, helplessly. “We need to move.”

  He forced himself to think as they hurried to the rear of the building. The farmhouse was probably impossible to defend, not if the enemy ha
d any real weapons. Colin wouldn’t bet good money on the walls, already weakened by years of neglect, standing up to a lone bullet. There were no exits at the rear, but they could make one. He unhooked a shaped HE charge from his belt and slapped it against the wall as Willis and Davies joined him in the room and took up defensive positions. Colin let out a breath, then triggered the charge. The wall exploded outwards. He lifted his rifle and ran through the hole. Outside, he saw the zombies start to move. The marines would be run down before they reached the dubious safety of the trees.

  “Take them,” he snapped.

  He dropped to his knee, switched his rifle to automatic and opened fire. It was far too close to ‘spray and pray’ for his peace of mind, but there was no time to select targets. The lead zombies practically disintegrated under their fire, the bullets tearing through their bodies and flying on to kill the next row and the next. Colin felt his stomach churn, remembering jokes he’d made in school about joining the military to earn a licence to kill. They weren’t so funny now … no, they’d never been funny at all. No wonder Tobias hated him.

  The zombies kept coming, pressing into his fire. Colin saw a small boy gunned down, his body still moving towards the marines until a second bullet ripped him apart from head to toe. Others - men, women, animals - fell and died, only to be replaced within seconds by more and more. Colin couldn’t believe it. Were they trying to make the marines waste bullets? It made a certain kind of grim sense. If one regarded host bodies as expendable, one could throw them away for a greater cause.

  He keyed his communicator as he slapped a new magazine into his rifle. “We need fire support now,” he snapped, then babbled out the coordinates. They didn’t dare turn and run, not when the zombies would catch up within seconds. “Now …”

  Two combat shuttles roared across the sky, scattering antipersonnel weapons onto the enemy horde. Colin hit the ground as the bomblets exploded, one by one, then picked himself up again and ran. The zombies seemed to have been stunned, just for a moment. Colin shouted orders to the rest of the fire team, hoping they could get back up the road before the zombies collected themselves. Had the virus lost control? The BioBombs should have hit them by now. No one, no one at all, had been able to suggest how long it would be before the weapons took effect …

  If indeed they ever did, Colin thought. He reached the trees and stopped, turning to look at the burning remains of the farmhouse. I wonder …

  His eyes narrowed. A bunch of zombies were roaming around like madmen, howling at the blue skies overhead. Others were lying on the ground, dead or stunned or … he didn’t know what they were doing. Had they been freed? Or had they been killed? Or …

  “We need to move,” Davies said. “They’ll be coming after us again.”

  “Yeah.” Colin took one last look, then motioned for the remainder of the fire team to follow him back to the terraforming station. “I think we’ve done all we can here.”

  ***

  Doctor Sarnia Carson was scared out of her mind, although she was determined not to admit it. The marines didn’t scare her - it wasn’t her first combat drop, nor the first time she’d been pressed into service beside the marine medics - but she knew, all too well, that the slightest breath could prove fatal. Evacuating someone wounded in combat could prove impossible, she’d been warned. They’d done their level best to come up with procedures that would keep the virus from infecting the medical staff, while saving the wounded, but even the best protocols might not be enough. Sarnia hatred to admit it, but someone who got wounded on the planet might be lost forever.

  She frowned as the marines pushed a figure towards her. The infected colonist was naked, his body covered in viral patches … she shuddered as he struggled against his bonds, flakes of viral matter spilling in all directions. The metal ties looked strong enough to hold anyone, but she knew the infected sometimes demonstrated remarkable strength. Him breaking free wasn’t the real danger, she reminded herself. It was the viral matter surrounding him that might pose the real threat …

  “The bioscanners are having trouble calibrating themselves,” she said, more to herself than to the marines. She’d been told what to watch for, but no one had tried deploying the BioBombs against an infected planet. Sarnia had been studying the virus ever since the war had begun and she still had problems grasping the sheer scale of the threat. “But it looks as if the counter-virus is having some effect.”

  She frowned as she took a blood sample, then scanned the twitching body. “The viral structures are under attack,” she said. “But it isn’t spreading as quickly as we’d hoped.”

  “The atmosphere doesn’t seem to have been affected,” a marine agreed. “How long will it take?”

  “I don’t know,” Sarnia admitted. The virus had - yet another - unfair advantage. They were trying to fight it on its own ground. She had the nasty feeling they’d barely scratched the surface of its adaptability. “It’ll take as long as it takes.”

  She shuddered. “It’s working,” she said. The data flowing into her sensors would fuel further research. Alpha Black would devise newer and better BioBombs, given time. “We just need a little more time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Thomas sat in his ready room, drinking tea.

  “The latest reports are clear,” he said. “The BioBombs are working. They’re just working slower than we might have preferred.”

  He grimaced. The doctors were still studying the results, as the counter-virus spread through the planet’s atmosphere, but they’d reluctantly conceded that the virus was effectively fighting back. The BioBombs had reduced the concentrations of viral matter within the atmosphere, yet they hadn’t significantly weakened the enemy forces. They kept insisting it was only a matter of time, but Thomas had his doubts. They were fighting on a planetary scale. By the time the counter-virus spread over the entire world, the virus might have devised an entire series of countermeasures.

  “It’s having some effect,” Captain Campbell said. The younger man’s image seemed to lean forward. “They have yet to mount any major offensive against our positions.”

  Thomas nodded, curtly. The virus hadn’t challenged the marines, save for a handful of minor skirmishes. He wasn’t sure if the virus was choosing not to fight or if it felt it had too many other problems. There was no hint the host-bodies had enough weapons to do more than irritate the marines. Human wave assaults might unnerve the uninfected, but orbital fire support would stop them dead in their tracks. Thomas hated to think of the slaughter, yet he knew he had no choice. The landing force had to be protected.

  “And they may not have gotten word out, not yet,” Captain Campbell added. “We cannot declare the mission a failure yet.”

  “I have no intention of retreating,” Thomas said, stiffly. He knew the squadron was exposed, too far from friendly territory to expect help if the shit hit the fan, but they were safe for the moment. The virus might not even know the squadron was there. There was no hint the virus had managed to get a message out before the squadron had destroyed its ships. “However, we must be sure the BioBombs have actually proven effective.”

  “I think it’s just a matter of refining the technique,” Captain Campbell said. “And finding something that consumes viral matter so quickly there’s no time for the virus to realise its under attack.”

  “And while I’m wishing, I’d like a pony,” Thomas said, dryly. “It may be years before we can put together a silver bullet.”

  He scowled. He’d read the briefing notes, then accessed files and government records that were barred to the general public. The Great Powers hadn’t banned genetic engineering, but they’d ensured that all research was conducted under strict safeguards. Some of the independent asteroids hadn’t been so prudent, although it was hard to sort out the truth from the lies, misconceptions and outright enemy propaganda. Genetically-engineered superhumans who could leap tall buildings in a single bound? Unbelievable. Enhanced individuals who could use pheromones to
influence unmodified humans? A little more believable. He suspected the Great Powers would have to do something about unrestricted genetic engineering sooner or later, although it wouldn’t be easy. The reports had hinted that many prominent politicians and businessmen had made use of genetic engineering techniques in one way or another. If a child was born with a severe disability, who could fault a parent for doing whatever it took to save them?

  Not me, Thomas thought. His daughters had been normal, but he knew one family with a mentally disabled son. What would I have done, if my daughters …?

  He left the thought unfinished as he studied the latest reports. The entire planet seemed to be waiting. There was no trace of enemy activity, outside the settled zones. And yet, the virus had to know the landing force had taken up position. The shuttles were hardly quiet. The host-bodies could have heard them landing. Thomas shook his head. He had a feeling he should be glad of the quiet. The virus would mount a counter-offensive soon enough. Unlike him, the virus knew when reinforcements would arrive.

  “A silver bullet would be nice,” Captain Campbell said. “When can we expect one?”

  Thomas gave the younger man a sharp look. He’d been in the navy long enough to know that newer wasn’t always better, even in wartime. New weapons systems, or experimental starships like Lion and Unicorn, rarely lived up to their promise. It took time to work the kinks out, time which would give the enemy time to work out defences and countermeasures. The boffins swore blind the BioBombs were unstoppable, that the counter-virus would burn its way through the virus until it ran out of sustenance, but it didn’t seem to be working out that way. Thomas wished he was surprised.

  “It will come when it comes,” he said, finally. “Until then …”