by Dan Davis
“Don’t tell him that I called him that for real,” Stirling whispered. “They managed to get his megalomania under control with drugs and therapy but we don’t want to set him off again.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Ram whispered back.
They were the two biggest men in the outpost. Rama Seti had the body of an artificially grown giant but Stirling was a proper human and he was at least two meters tall. Too big, surely, to function efficiently as a Marine but he had been effective enough to both be promoted to the rank of sergeant and also selected for the Orb mission. Still, a giant compared to anyone other than Ram and the both of them were attempting to sneak into a storage unit in order to steal a UNOP General Purpose All-Terrain Drone (GPAT Drone).
Everyone else had tasks that only they could complete. Tseng was accessing the command codes necessary to activate the ETAT vehicles. Cooper was stealing communications gear that Harris would then reprogram. Flores had been having some sort of non-defined, probably-sexual relationship with one of the biologists and she would use that contact to gain access to the lab to steal one of the prototype wheelhunter translation devices. Fury’s job was to take one of the alien weapons from the workshops that were attempting to understand their operation. No one knew if the weapons were on lockdown or not but if they were, Corporal Fury was known to be a scout sniper and weapon specialist and would have the best chance of talking her way into taking a weapon.
That left Stirling to steal the GPAT drone from west wing storage unit C. To do that, he would need to distract the Marines on duty.
“What better distraction than the hero of all humanity?” Stirling had said.
“May as well use my fame for good instead of evil,” Ram had said.
Crouching behind a row of water canisters in the corridor, he was regretting those words. He felt ridiculous.
“Go on, sir,” Stirling hissed at him. “Now, sir, you bloody great bastard.” He shoved Ram, hard. So hard that Ram almost dropped his helmet.
The sentry called out. “Who’s that down there?”
Ram jumped up and unfolded himself to his full height. His bare head almost brushed the exposed pipework running along the ceiling.
“Ah,” Ram said. “Yes. Hello, Private. Private Wells, is it?”
She grinned. “That’s right, sir. Sarah, if you like, sir.”
“Oh. Sarah, of course. So, Sarah. How are you, this evening?”
“I’m great!” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m pretty bored standing here, you know. All alone. Not that, I mean, it’s fine. We all have to take turns.”
Ram nodded and advanced toward her in what he hoped was a casual saunter but feared was an awkward shuffle. “Anything happening tonight? I mean, with the old sentry duty. I mean.”
She laughed. “Nothing at all until you showed up. There’s not really much need for us to do this at all, it’s just that, there’s a chance that the wheelers could sneak up, somehow. A one in a million chance, considering all the surveillance but we need to have someone on all the key locations.”
“Oh yeah?” Ram said, moving beyond her a little, as if peering inside the unit. She turned to keep facing him, giving Sergeant Stirling a chance to advance to a stack of boxes further along the corridor. “And that’s what this is?”
“Well,” Private Wells said, tilting her head side to side. “Just a storage unit here, not exactly the reactor or anything but seeing as we’re entirely dependent on what we have and what we can extract from the environment until our reinforcements show up, it is pretty vital we look after what we have. Wouldn’t you agree?” She laughed lightly again.
“I would. I would indeed.”
Behind her, Stirling jabbed his finger repeatedly at his own head and then once at Ram. A stabbing gesture, full of meaning.
Private Wells frowned a little and started to turn.
“Hey,” Ram said. “I just remembered. You’re qualified to perform maintenance on combat helmets, right?”
She opened her mouth, then paused, frowning. “You remembered that about me?” Her eyes flicked around Ram’s face. “You remembered that? About me specifically? You remember anything else? About me?”
“Yes,” Ram said. “I mean, that is to say, no. Not really. But I’d like to. For now, I’d really like it if you could take a look at my helmet. I think maybe I took more wheeler damage back then that I realized. Maybe you could patch me up?”
She hesitated then blew air through her pursed lips in the universal expression of tradespersons who are about to give you bad news.
“Yours is not a standard model. Not by any means. You should give this to Sergeant Wu. Gunny Wu is the man.”
Stirling poked his huge head out from behind the boxes and mimed getting on with it, his face twisted in anger or something similar.
“Gunny Wu? Right, yeah, I would and I will but every time I’ve seen him, he’s been super busy. Here.”
And he thrust the huge, Rama Seti-sized combat helmet right at her and held it there.
Wells sighed, taking it from him slowly. “Alright, I guess I can at least carry out an initial assessment.”
Behind her, not four meters away, the massive Sergeant Stirling scampered inside storage unit C. For a giant man, he moved quickly and on soft feet.
Wells half turned while she was speaking, looking over her shoulder.
Ram tapped the helmet in her hands. “Not too big, is it?” he asked.
“What’s that?” she asked, turning back to him. “How do you mean?”
He tried not to let his stress or his relief show. “Just wondering if the helmet was too big to fix. Or, too non-standard, I should have said. Not like everyone else’s, I would guess?”
“I don’t know,” she said, peering inside. “Looks the same to me. The working parts are going to be the same, right? Just the structural elements that are printed to match scans of our heads.”
“Sure, sure,” Ram said, nodding, glancing at the entrance to the storage unit.
“Oh,” Wells said. “I know what this is about.”
“What?” Ram said, looking down at her. “My helmet—”
“Yeah, sure,” Wells said, scowling. “Damaged in the wheeler attack, you said? There’s barely a scratch on it. No components loose, no rattling sounds. There’s nothing wrong with this damned helmet, is there.” She shoved it back at him, reaching up to smack it against his abdomen.
He took it and turned the helmet in his hands. “I can explain.”
She bobbed her head. “Go on, then.”
Ram laughed. “It’s like this…”
Behind her, Stirling ducked his head out of the doorway and looked around, eyes wide. He ducked back in again.
Wells shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it doesn’t matter how big they build you guys, you’re still like little kids when it comes to speaking to a girl you like.”
“Right, right,” Ram said.
Oh shit.
Stirling crept out of the unit carrying what appeared to be a bundle of clothing. The big man moved quickly and he ducked back behind the row of canisters. Ram let out a sigh.
“Is that it, then?” Wells asked. “You’re giving up?”
“No, no,” Ram said. “I just didn’t think it through, that’s all. I mean, I was thinking, there’s no way you would want to get hit on down here on this planet when we’re at risk of dying at any moment.”
“What better time to do it?”
“Right,” Ram said, laughing. “I don’t really know what to say, to be honest with you. I never really did this much in my real life. Just in Avar.”
“I get it, don’t worry.”
“Maybe we could meet in the mess hall later?” Ram said. “That’s probably crazy, right? Eating rations surrounded by dozens of stinking people isn’t exactly romantic, is it.”
“Romance?” She said, blurting it out. “Is that what you’re going for?”
“No, no. I mean, I don’t know.” Ram began backin
g away. “This is just a bad time, forget I said anything.”
“I don’t think I’m going to forget. Maybe I’ll see you later?”
“Yes, yeah. Great. I’ll see you later.” He turned and hurried away as rapidly as he could. “Thanks for looking at my helmet.”
Stirling waited around the corner, his bundle wrapped under his arm. He held the other hand over his face, trying to stifle his laughter.
“What?” Ram said. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“Oh, man.” Stirling wiped a tear from his eye. “You’re a real smooth talker, you know that?”
“What was I supposed to do? You took forever in there.”
“I had to wrap this thing in something. Found some overalls. And I was quick. Super quick.” Stirling laughed again. “All you had to do was have a normal conversation, sir.”
Ram clapped Stirling on the back, laughing. “Come on, let’s get out of here, quick.”
***
“Hurry,” Ram said, urging the others to him in the darkness. The last pair to arrive hurried low along the outer wall of the outpost, carrying their equipment.
Artificial light spilled from the middle of the outpost, making pools of white glare fading to complete blackness in between. The stars above were bright but fading fast behind a spreading dark cloud that built up from everywhere and nowhere. Ram’s AugHud adjusted automatically wherever he turned, seeing the others in the team clearly as they huddled at the base of the outpost wall, a busy robot working away over them.
The northwest corner of the outpost was now repaired and being extended by the rapid and persistent working of a crawler drone. Its mechanical arms scissoring up and down at its sides, layering the walls of what would be a tower, protruding from the corner. That tower would house a mounted weapon atop it, providing fire out at approaching wheelers and also down at the walls, should they attempt to attack that section once more.
The noisy, busy activity of the crawler would hide the gathering Marines but they had to be quick.
“Fury,” Sergeant Stirling said. “What the hell have you got there? Where’s the wheeler pistol you were supposed to get?”
The scout sniper had brought her marksman rifle, which was longer than she was tall.
“I know, Sergeant, I know,” Corporal Fury said. Her face behind her visor was normally blank but as she spoke, she had a wicked glint in her eye. “No way to get an alien weapon. But we need long range support out here. Anyway, just couldn’t bring myself to leave the old girl behind.” She patted the stock of her huge rifle.
“You cunning bloody idiot,” Stirling said. “Can’t drop it there, can you. Not where someone will see it. I’ll deal with you later.”
“Enough talk,” Ensign Tseng snapped. “We will go. Now.”
“Wait!” Harris said. “Wait, sir. Look at the AugHud. The patrol is behind schedule. Dawdling.”
Cooper scoffed. “Lazy twats.”
“They’ll never see us from over there,” Tseng said, standing.
Ram placed a hand on Tseng’s shoulder and pulled him back. “Wait, sir. Just a minute.”
The ensign jerked, startled. “Take your hand off of me,” Tseng said, shaking his shoulder free. “Damned undead brute.”
Ram leaned forward so that his faceplate was just a couple of centimeters from Tseng’s. “No need to be rude, Ensign Tseng,” Ram said.
The officer’s eyes stared up at Ram, defiant but with a hint of fear.
“That’s it,” Harris said. “They’ve moved on.”
Tseng glared at Ram but moved off without speaking. The officer’s webbing was loaded with equipment and grenades with additional pouches all over him holding pistol magazines but he carried just his holstered sidearm and no supplies for the expedition. Tseng padded off into the darkness.
“Alright, everyone,” Stirling said. “No need for anything fancy, now. Get to your assigned vehicle and off we go. Come on.”
Each of them carried as much gear and supplies as they could manage. As well as his own rations, batteries and medical supplies, Ram carried his XRS-Handspear and with the large additional magazines, one of the EVA tents on top of his pack, plus 38 liters of water in two cans. Stirling carried the other tent, extra ammunition and more water.
They made their way in two small groups, heading for the ETATs.
The vehicle park was fifty meters from the outpost. A shallow pit with walls on three sides and a sloping rock-hewn ramp on the fourth side which would hide and protect the precious buggies and allowed them to be worked on and loaded in relative shelter. The intention was to build a trench from the park to the outpost and then to roof that over and eventually to create a garage area. But only after the wheelers were defeated and driven off planet or all slaughtered.
Those fifty meters seemed to Ram to be a long way. He was weighted down with at least 100 kilograms and he lumbered along, expecting someone from the outpost or one of the patrols to spot them.
It wasn’t as though there were any windows on the outside walls of the outpost. And they knew where the perimeter patrols were. There were not enough Marines to cover the area so they relied on drones to fill in the gaps. And Harris and Cooper had supposedly taken care of that.
Supposedly.
Still, Ram felt as though he was being watched. Like an itching on the back of his neck that he could not scratch. As if there was something he had forgotten to do but he could not remember what it was.
But there was nothing. It was just fear. He squashed it down as best he could and ran on, the equipment bouncing around on his back and shoulders and in his hands and all over his armor. The team of them together probably sounded like the Mumbai Robot Demolition Derby as they jogged across the open ground.
No one spotted them.
Not yet.
Ram stumbled down the slope and dumped his gear into the back of the ETAT. Stirling hurried them along.
Ensign Tseng stood by the passenger seat to the No.1 ETAT, his hand gripping the roll cage frame as if he was staking a claim to it.
“Hurry,” Tseng urged them.
Ram threw his weapon in then climbed into the space on the flatbed at the rear of ETAT No.1 and Harris got in the driver’s seat.
The other four climbed into No.2 ETAT, Cooper driving, Stirling in the front with the stocky young Private Flores and the grizzled Corporal Fury on the back.
Above, the clouds thickened, blocking out the stars completely. Up there, the Victory and her crew were facing down the enemy ship. Maybe had fought it already. Had the Stalwart Sentinel arrived yet? Or the other ships that were following it? The continued silence from orbit suggested that nothing had happened.
For all the earlier bravado, everyone seemed subdued. Stiff, anxious. Full of cortisol. Ram wanted to say something to lift their spirits but he was not in command. And he was painfully aware that they were all there because of him. It was Ram who had decided to go on a suicidal rescue mission. They would all be having doubts, second thoughts. He was having them himself. On the other hand, there are times for making decisions and times when life has momentum, when you are more at the mercy of events outside yourself, even if you set them in motion. You get swept up and at those times it is best to just push through and save your doubt for later.
Yeah but you think that way because of Avar. This is real life and your team doesn’t get to respawn.
“Come on, then,” Ram said. “Let’s go murder some wheelers.”
A couple of them laughed, a couple growled something aggressive and the rest remained silent. About as good as he could have hoped for.
“Yes, move out,” Ensign Tseng said, but both ETATs had already started moving. Their motors whining under the strain of climbing out of the vehicle park with such heavy loads. They made it easily, though. Powerful vehicles.
“I’ll activate the GPAT,” Harris said, spinning the wheel and heading for the dark mass of hills to the northeast. “Fury, throw it out the back.”
“Hold on,” Stirling said. “No rush. If the signal diverges from what they can see of our tracks on the ground then they’ll know it’s a trick.”
“Can’t wait too long,” Harris said.
“Just a few more minutes,” Stirling said, speaking slowly. Ram saw him slouching in his seat like he was a lord taking a tour of his grounds. “Everything is fine, people. We’re good. Everything is going according to plan.”
Even bouncing about in the dark and buried in layers of armor, Ram felt through the comms system and AugHud how the team members relaxed at Stirling’s words. At Stirling’s demeanor. It was becoming clearer with every moment that the sergeant was the best soldier out of all of them, a man to be trusted even in spite of whatever professional problems had landed him in Spaz Squad. If Stirling was relaxed then everything must be alright, must be good, just like he said.
After a few more minutes, Harris set the GPAT drone off. The little thing was all wheels. No matter which way it bounced or rolled, it would always be able to keep going. Other than the usual tech that would keep it running in a general direction for five days straight, it was hosting a mirror of their suit and biochips. It bounced along next to them for a few hundred meters, moving gradually further away until it was lost from sight in the darkness, gone behind the jumbles of rock that littered the landscape.
“You know,” Flores said. “As soon as they get the aerial back online, they’ll be able to spot us with the satellites.”
“No, they won’t,” Harris said, sneered. “Those stupid little microsats couldn’t spot a battle tank. They couldn’t even spot your fat ass.”
“Oh, really? You want to start talking about the sizes of body parts now, you really want to go there, Harris?”
“Quiet!” Tseng snapped. “We’re barely outside and you’re already starting to annoy me. Keep watching your segments, alright?”
A few of them mumbled acknowledgment. “Sir.”
Tseng was uptight. They respected his rank but not the man. Perhaps that was a little harsh, they would never have allowed him to come along if they really hated him. Although, Ram was surprised the officer had come along at all. It did not fit the rest of the man’s character. If he was so bitterly opposed to Captain Cassidy then the depth of feeling must have been intense. Intense enough, in fact, that it had led to an actual demotion and removal from active duty, which seemed to Ram to be an extreme decision on the part of Cassidy.