by Dan Davis
The sergeant nodded, eyes on the officer, and spoke a soft acknowledgement. “Sir.”
Ram half raised his hand. “Shouldn’t I be there for the briefing, too?”
Cassidy stared, open mouthed. “You need to understand something and you’re not getting it. You beat that wheelhunter in the arena all those months ago and that was just great. You sacrificed your life for all of us and it was goddamned heroic. But since then, what good have you been? I don’t care how much you trained to fight, unarmed and one to one with those things, and I don’t care how much virtual military experience you had playing your little games over the years and I don’t care what they pumped into your brain since they resurrected you. You’re dangerously unpredictable, unable to control your emotions. You are not a Marine. You’re gigantic, slow, you’re not properly integrated and I have no use for you. All you accomplish by being here is getting in my way. We’re going to be landing directly in the shit, most likely, and I’ve already lost people in the previous attacks. I have had to assign resources to look after you, people that I would rather have doing something useful, like unpacking boxes. As far as I’m concerned, you’re nothing more than a newborn baby on his first day in boot camp. You’re the lowest ranking creature this side of Neptune. All I want from you is to put on your armor and do as you’re told. If you can avoid getting any of my people killed when we land, or killing them yourself, I’ll consider it a miracle. Understand?”
“I think you’ve made your point pretty thoroughly.”
Cassidy nodded once at Ram, then addressed Sergeant Wu. “Get him stitched up tight, Jim.”
“Sir.”
Cassidy, still scowling, bounded away and pulled himself up through the hatch into the crew compartment without another word.
“Shit, sergeant,” Ram said. “I always thought that guy liked me.”
“You’re a hero, sir,” Sergeant Wu said. “The Captain just has other priorities.”
Yeah, am I not supposed to be the savior of humanity? Why the hell is he treating me like that?
“It’s fine, I get it,” Ram said. “So, you’re our Gunnery Sergeant, right?”
The man looked confused. “How did you know that?”
“I don’t know,” Ram said but he pointed at the shoulder of the man’s armor. “That’s a Gunnery Sergeant insignia.”
Sergeant Wu looked surprised. “That’s right, I didn’t know that you would know that, sir.”
Ram thought about it. “Upstairs, there’s a First Sergeant named Gruger. He works with Captain Cassidy, right?”
Sergeant Wu seemed uncomfortable but Ram had no idea why. “That’s right, he’s Command and I’m a guy who works for a living. Now, sir, we have to hurry. The Sergeant opened a huge crate behind him. “We don’t have much time and getting this suit on in zero-g is a nightmare if you’re not used to it.” He called for assistance and two Marines bounced down to help him unpack the gear. “You have to brace yourself while we pull the armor round you, sir. Do you know our standard Mark XX armor? Well, this is based on that, just made to measure. We’re going to go boots first, legs up to the ass and then gloves, arms and shrug the back plates on, swing round the chest plates and seal it up. The hardened sections fix in place but it’s essentially one single piece joined together with flexible armor up to the neck with an unbroken seam. The life support backpack is a sealed unit with armor on the outside. Onboard batteries here around your lower back and waist but you have accessible battery slots on the outside so you can swap new ones in to stay fully charged without needing to plug in. Don’t worry, though, the mission is a static defense and we will all be regularly topped up with power, air, coolant. Trickiest bit to get on, obviously, is the waste system but we’ll help you fit that if you don’t, you know, if you can’t do that. Then the helmet, which I’ll give you after, is mostly an armored faceplate with a close fitting cranial section which seals at the neck. Alright, sir?”
“Sure,” Ram said, heart racing a little at the thrill of it. “Kind of like pulling on overalls.”
Gunnery Sergeant Wu shrugged. “Kind of like the most effective combat armor ever designed that also works as a vacuum capable space suit and hermetically sealed hazmat suit. Kind of like billion dollar overalls, sure, sir. Come on, let’s do this quickly but let’s do it right.”
Rama followed the precise instructions he was given and they got him suited up incredibly quickly. It was a highly intuitive process.
“Fits perfectly,” Rama said, while they were closing up his seals. “Like a second skin. Did you fit it to my body when I was dead?”
The Marines looked awkwardly at their sergeant.
“No,” Sergeant Wu said. “Well, it was designed from scans of the artificial person body, months ago. The backup clone, before your mind was… you know.”
A chill ran through Ram. “Right. Of course. Guess I’m wearing this body as much as I’m wearing the armor.”
Ram turned as Milena propelled herself down to the cargo hold and called out as she moved over to the open area between the stacked crates. “Good,” she said. “You’re suited up.”
“Almost,” Ram said. “Just need my helmet and my weapons.”
Milena and the sergeant exchanged a look and she cleared her throat. “Where’s my EVA suit?”
Sergeant Wu got her a civilian version of a space suit and she unselfconsciously stripped off her outer clothes before donning the gear. The Marines busied themselves but Ram watched her twisting her beautiful body like a gymnast in the zero-g to slide into the close-fitting suit. Watched until he realized she was about to fit the waste extraction sections and he turned away until she was all done. The suit was not like the UNOP Marine Corp Mark XX armor. There were no plate sections.
“How come she doesn’t get armor?” Ram asked, irritated. “What the hell? What if she gets shot or whatever?”
“It’s okay, Ram,” Milena said. “All the civilians wear these. It’s the Marines’ job to protect us so that we don’t need armor. I plan to stay well away from the fighting. Anyway, these are extremely tough, the material is essentially bulletproof. Just flexible and without all the extras in the combat version.”
“Right,” Ram said. “Well, I’ll protect you, anyway. Where are my weapons? Zhukov told me you made me a sword?”
Sergeant Wu exchanged more knowing looks with his men and they nodded and went back to work further down the hold.
“What’s going on?” Ram said but not even Milena answered him. She pursed her lips and looked away. The woman was subdued and Ram realized why. She had not seen him for a year, he had been dead, ripped apart and now he was in a clone’s body. For Ram, it had been just a day or two since they had been intimate with one another but for her, it was a completely different situation. His easy familiarity with her was misplaced, it was making her uncomfortable. He had watched her undress like she was his girlfriend but she had never even been that, really. For her, they were colleagues whose closeness had become friendship and that friendship had been briefly physical. He knew he had to give her some space. I’ll protect you, he’d said. Tone it down, Ram, you idiot.
“This is your helmet,” the sergeant said. “It fits close, it’s as small and streamlined and light as possible, providing almost complete peripheral vision but open enough inside for you to be able to speak and breathe without restriction. It works with and enhances your biological augments to provide higher powered comms and battlefield data. And if you turn your head all the way to your left or right, up or down and need to see further than it will allow, the AugHud integration will keep scrolling the image, overlaying your real-world vision.”
“Just like in Avar. What about my weapons, Sergeant?”
Wu flipped open a crate and took out an enormous rifle. It was almost as big as the Marine but when Ram took it, the weapon felt perfect in his hands. “This was custom made for you, sir. It uses the mechanism from a light machine gun, firing large caliber rounds, but we reduced the rate of
fire and converted it into a weapon that you can use like a battle rifle. The grip and trigger guard and stock and everything is the same as a standard issue rifle, which I know you used in Avar, only everything is scaled for a man that’s eight feet tall. As much as possible we’ve kept the handling and rate of fire similar. It’s called the XRS-101.”
“RS for Rama Seti?” He was half joking.
“Yes, sir. And X for experimental so that no one can blame me if it blows up in your face. I’m just kidding, it works just fine.”
“But the designer, Ian, wants it to be called the Handspear.”
“The… oh, because of how I killed the wheeler?” Ram had cut off his hand and used the chisel-pointed bone ends to stab the alien champion to death in the arena.
“Yes, sir. And because Ian thinks it sounds badass.”
“I guess I do, too.”
“Let me show you the operation of the XRS-Handspear, sir.” He took it back and Rama reluctantly allowed him to do so. “Fire selection is here. Safe, single shot, burst, and full auto. Please avoid the full auto unless you need it. We’ll have to swap out the barrel much sooner if you fire like that and then there’s the ammo situation. The magazine release is here and you’ll see how huge this thing is.” He removed the oblong, bottom section of the rifle and showed Ram. Without the enormous magazine, the rifle looked strange. “The cartridges are very small, the propellant is just a fraction of it, it’s almost entirely the projectile. And considering how big you are and the weapon is, we’ve packed five hundred and twenty rounds in each magazine.”
“Five hundred round mags, okay.”
“Now the first of the bad news, sir. They take a long time to load and we have a limited supply of all ammunition. Anyway, you have just five magazines, including this one.”
“That’s still more than two thousand rounds.”
“Two thousand six hundred. Sounds like a lot, doesn’t it, sir. The fire rate for this weapon is eight hundred rounds a minute. Pretty standard. Full auto and you’re permanently out of ammo in just over three minutes.”
“Yeah but I won’t—”
“Course you won’t, sir. But firing bursts, at maybe sixty a minute? You’ll only have forty-five minutes of shooting.” He nodded at Ram’s expression. “No resupply and we might have to hold out for weeks. Days, certainly.”
“Alright, message understood, Sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir.” Wu held out his hands and Ram handed the XRS-Handspear back to the Gunnery Sergeant. “But the real bad news is that the Captain won’t let me issue it to you.”
“What?”
“Yes, sir. Captain Cassidy has ordered that we cannot issue your rifle or sidearm to you. Not with ammunition. And not until you’ve practiced and demonstrated that you can use it properly and safely. And we have to hold on to your sword. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Come on, Gunny. How am I supposed to defend myself?”
Gunnery Sergeant Wu looked unhappy. “The Captain’s opinion is that arming you with a weapon would be more risk to the rest of us.”
“Like I’m some kind of incompetent?”
The Sergeant glanced at Milena, a pleading look in his eyes.
“Ram,” Milena said. “I know it doesn’t make much sense right now but—”
“No, it’s alright, I get it. Captain Cassidy doesn’t trust me. But I can’t even have the sword?”
“It’s in this case here.” Wu banged the case beneath the one holding the magazines for the Handspear. It had a graphic of a sword printed on it. “I can issue it once you are signed off, sir.”
“We’re heading into a warzone, right?” Ram knew that arguing with a Marine who was following orders was an exercise in futility but he could not help himself. It was idiotic to deny him weapons.
“Come on, Ram,” Milena said, tugging on his arm. “Let’s get back in the reentry chairs before it’s too late. Hear the end of Cassidy’s briefing. You have a lot to catch up on.”
As they floated up the hatch, the shuttle vibrated and shook, rattling around. Rama’s stomach lurched and he bounced back down to the bottom of the floor of the crew compartment.
“Get to your seats,” Cassidy growled at them, breaking off from his briefing. “We’re entering the atmosphere, slowing down.”
Rama helped Milena back into her own chair before he took his own, guiding her as easily as if she was a small child.
“The environment on the surface around the outpost seems at first to be completely benign,” Captain Cassidy continued as Rama and Milena strapped themselves back in. “Surface temperature, both day and night, pressure, and humidity will be familiar to anyone from a temperate climate back home. And I keep hearing you people saying the air is breathable. Yes, there is enough oxygen in the atmosphere but that air isn’t something you want to be breathing. Initial tests suggest the alien bacteria on the planet is probably benign but until the scientists know for sure, you will be following the proper procedures or you will be spending your entire time on the surface locked in the quarantined zone of the outpost. And if you’re in quarantine, then you’re no good to anyone. You have been warned. Any questions?”
Ram raised his hand and waved it.
Captain Cassidy scowled. “What?”
“Is there a presentation to go along with your talk that I can download, or...?”
Cassidy’s top lip curled as he turned back to face the rest of the compartment. “Any real questions?”
Ram looked at Milena. “I was serious about the presentation.”
“Initiate your AugHud,” she said, her voice calm and familiar in his ear, in his head. “You should be tapped into the network.”
Ram felt around inside his head until he found the glaring activation node and concentrated on it. Control of the implants came to him easily, despite being in a new body, and the AugHud flickered into life over his vision, linking to the Company network.
Data streamed, unfiltered. Information about the shuttle’s airspeed and altitude, lists of names for the Marines and their assigned fire teams, individual competencies, text and audio orders and informal conversations flying back and forth between them all.
For the briefest moment, it was like being back on Earth, logging into his Avar server and speaking to his cooperative. But the craft lurched and he forgot his nostalgia, selecting exterior cameras on the shuttle and expanding the images to fill his vision.
He was astonished to see how high up they still were. High enough to perceive the curve of the planet and the infinite blackness above. Below, swirling cloud covered the globe and the sunlight reflected off water. What little land he could see was black and dark gray, in the shape of chains and clusters of islands, glimpsed through the swirling ribbons of the cloud layer.
Cassidy stopped and tilted his head, listening. “Alright,” Cassidy said. “Lieutenant Xenakis says we’re having trouble raising the outpost. We’re coming into thicker atmosphere now, people. Make sure your straps are tight and your suits are sealed.” Cassidy grabbed hold of the seat backs and pulled his way to his own place, front and center.
Ram’s stomach lurched again and a noise like a distant monsoon sounded around the hull of the craft.
“This is crazy,” Ram said to Milena, or tried to. His teeth chattered in his head and he barely heard himself over the sound of the atmosphere outside. She nodded all the same, no doubt understanding something of his sentiment.
It felt like the shuttle was diving down, then levelling out and occasionally turning, over and over. They passed through the cloud layers so quickly that he barely noticed. Perhaps such maneuvering in a descent was perfectly standard or perhaps the pilots were attempting to avoid ground fire or enemy fighter craft.
“There are weapons on this thing, right?” Ram asked Milena during one of the relative lulls. “Rockets and lasers and stuff?”
Milena clutched her straps tight with her gloved hands. “It’s a shuttle, Ram. A single stage to orbit transport shuttle.”
/>
Ram nodded. “Is that a no?”
On the exterior view, he could make out an enormous plateau of black rock extending for hundreds of klicks. On one side, it ended in a jagged coastline. Opposite that, a curving line of peaks and rolling hills that disappeared out of sight.
“Are we heading for those mountains?”
“The outpost was established just beneath them,” Milena said. “Strong winds over most of the surface. This position shelters the outpost from the prevailing wind. And that’s why they changed the layout into a four-sided box shape instead of separate buildings spread out in a complex, as originally intended. Lucky they did. We accidently built ourselves a fort.”
They jerked downward, violently, and the rattling and banging grew louder and more intense. The whir of large motors sounded and a short series of bangs sounded on the hull. The shuttle banked, violently and went into a dive.
“What’s happening?” He asked Milena, using the comms system. “Is this normal?”
His AugHud told him to prepare for hard landing, on screen and by a simulated woman’s voice in his ear.
It told him to assume the crash position in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. His screen flashed the word BRACE at him and he knew to check his helmet was locked into the seat back, his boots were clicked into the foot rest and he hooked his crossed arms into the straps over his chest.
Close your mouth, his suit said in his ear, close your—
A mighty bang and the impact of the hard landing jarred his spine. His head bounced around inside his helmet but the suit and seat kept him secure. The deceleration pulled him forward, so hard against the straps that he couldn’t get a breath. Landing, landing, his suit said.
No shit.