by B. V. Larson
I saw Centurion Belter. She was a dozen meters away, directing her troops on the front line personally. When one of the machines got within a hundred meters, she shouted to Graves.
“We’ll take that one!”
Graves’ dragon waved a gripper, indicating it was all hers. I noticed that the intended target had started spinning as well—what was that all about? Clearly, they were doing it on purpose. It took a long second, while a dozen light troops surged forward at Centurion Belter’s orders, for me to realize why they were spinning.
The behavior had to be intended to make it harder to group our shells. I could tell it was working when we targeted our next machine. They were all spinning now, and I found we couldn’t punch through the armor as easily. We tried—but failed to stop the machine in a single salvo. The tactic showed an alarming ability to adapt and reason. When they spun, our attacks were nowhere near as effective.
I ordered my squad to extend force-blades. The machine that was bearing down on us wasn’t dying peacefully. I felt that it was our duty to stand on our chosen ridge of land and protect the infantry.
Centurion Belter had different ideas. I wanted to shout at her to bring her troops back behind my line—but I didn’t. She outranked me, and if she wanted to watch her people die bravely, well, that was her own damned business.
When her troops got to the machine, they threw themselves on their backs, letting it lift its skirt and slide right over them. A bluish glow came from every man thus consumed.
That’s when I caught on. They’d been issued grav-plasma grenades. Strange blue-glowing weapons, the grenades didn’t work like normal fragmentation explosives. Instead, they gathered up loose surrounding material and then fired it outward with fantastic force. Even water could be turned into a weapon by transforming a puddle into a thousand needles that punched through everything nearby.
The men who went under the machine released their grenades inside the guts of the monster. The effects were dramatic. It stopped spinning, flew off-kilter and sagged. Whatever control mechanism inside it that kept it moving had died. Mindless, it flopped, shivered, and turned into a smoking wreck.
About half the troops who’d been sent under those skirts managed to crawl back out again. I was impressed by Solstice bravery, having never seen them in action before.
Unfortunately, our efforts hadn’t impressed one critical person: the commander of the lifter that was about to land in our midst. We’d done our best to form a circle around the LZ and keep it clear, but there had been breaches. In fact, one of the machines was right there, trying to eat a trio of dragons that it had managed to knock flat.
“Sir!” I shouted to Graves, who was pretty close to my position. “We’ve got a breach behind us.”
“Keep your eyes on your designated targets, McGill. The breach is someone else’s problem.”
“But sir, the lifter has changed course. I think he’s going to land up on the canyon wall.”
Graves looked and cursed. “That idiot! McGill, this is a priority directive. All of this fighting is for nothing if the machines take out that lifter. We’ll never get out of this valley alive—none of us.”
“I got that, Centurion. What do you want me to do?”
“Run your squad up to the lifter. Keep the machines off it until our column can move to support. We can’t all run up there now. We’d lose our front line, and the enemy would overwhelm us.”
“Roger sir, on my way!”
My squad wheeled and charged uphill after me a moment later. My troops followed me without a single complaint. I figured that was probably because Carlos was already dead. No one had revived him and returned him to my squadron yet—and I couldn’t blame them.
We thundered up the steep slope to a plateau where the lifter seemed to be coming down. Sure, the plateau wasn’t full of machines at the moment, but once they detected that massive structure of refined metals landing, I was sure they’d flock to the spot. Instead of choosing a safer landing spot, the pilot had ensured that we couldn’t protect him.
When we reached the venting lifter and ran around the base of its massive skids, the first of the machines arrived. It wasn’t the biggest I’d ever seen, but it was undamaged, and it was spinning.
The fight with this lone machine was brief, but violent. We blasted it all at once at point-blank range. The machine twirled away and crashed down in the valley below.
Making a quick decision I chose a spot near the aft of the lifter to make our stand. I’d no sooner gotten there than I was surprised by a new development. The lifter crew contacted me directly.
“Cavalry squadron, that area is restricted.”
The words rang in my helmet. It was a shock since we were supposed to be observing radio silence. Down in the mess of the valley, where a pitched battle was ongoing, I could understand such a breach. But up here, well, we didn’t want any new company.
There were no more transmissions for a few seconds as I didn’t want to reply and thus create a further breach of my orders. This didn’t sit well with the lifter crew.
“This is lifter zero-niner. Are you deaf? Get away from my exhaust ports. If I need to run, I want—”
“Excuse me, sir,” I interrupted. “This is a no-transmission zone. You’re endangering everyone in the region. Maintain radio silence. Veteran McGill, out.”
He shut up after that, and we moved to another spot farther from his jets. I’d just begun to hope that the machines were too busy with the mess in the valley to take notice when the next one showed up, humping over the frosty land like it was late for dinner—which, in a way, I supposed it was.
“On my mark, fire! Mark!”
We let loose on the machine and took it down. But it was already too late. A half-dozen more were scooting toward us out of the spikes and boulders.
“Vet,” Sargon shouted nearby, “the lifter has put down her ramp. The infantry are boarding.”
I took a second to look, and I saw he was right. Graves, Belter and a few other centurions were holding the line in the valley. The rest of the troops, both striding cavalry inside their dragons and the scrambling light troops, were flowing up to our position out of the tunnels. They were moving fast, but not quite in a panic. The lifter ramp had been deployed— the pilot had finally grown a set and committed. I had to give him that much.
Looking back at the approaching machines, I made a grim decision.
“Squad, ADVANCE!” I roared, making my own ears ring in my helmet. I wanted to make sure they heard me over the roar of battle. External speakers allowed me to send my voice booming around me.
Leading the way, I approached the nearest machine, leaving the shadow of the lifter behind. It had just begun to spin when my squad blew it apart.
“Advance!” I shouted again. I have to give my people credit, not one of them disobeyed or asked me if I’d lost my ever-loving mind. They just followed me from one lonely pile of rocks to the next.
The enemy machines were rushing in piecemeal. They were focused on the lifter still, not us. That was not what I wanted, so I opened up my radio. I turned on every channel and broadcast to the entire cohort—hell, I bet they could’ve heard me up on the big ships above the permanent cloud cover if they were listening.
“Centurion Graves, we’re breaking radio-silence to lead the enemy machines away from the lifter. Please don’t respond. This is Veteran James McGill, and I’ll now serenade you with my best rendition of the Battle Hymn of the Republic.”
With that, I began to sing. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m no songbird. Anyone with the misfortune to attend the same church I did back on Earth could have told you that. But what I might lack in the area of musical prowess, I more than make up for in sheer volume.
It was an old song, an illegal song in public places on Earth since the Hegemony people felt it stirred up rebels in certain districts, but I’d always liked it, and I could remember most of the words.
And so I sang—to the legions a
nd to the machines—until the machines were on top of us. We killed two right off, but the next three reached us all at once—about the same time I hit that line about making men holy and letting us die to make men free—when we were knocked down and stomped flat.
Under that last machine, a copy of James McGill made his peace and fired his spinal cannon at suicidally close range.
The concussion killed me, but the machine died as well. My squad, my first command—we were all dead.
-22-
It had been a long time since I’d died and been revived. As such things go, this one was probably the best I’d ever experienced. I returned to life with a gasp and a wheeze, but once I could breathe easily, I found myself to be in an oddly cheerful mood.
“He’s a good grow,” Bio Specialist Anne Grant announced. She was the chief operator of our cohort’s revival equipment. As part of Legion Varus and usually assigned to Graves’ command, she’d come along when the rest of us joined Winslade’s cavalry.
I knew Anne’s voice instantly. She was an angel to my addled mind. She’d presided over my birth a dozen times more than my own mother had. I considered the woman to be something of a godmother.
My eyes fluttered open. My vision was beyond blurred. Freshly-grown optical nerves were dazzled by light, which they’d never experienced before. My focusing muscles didn’t know their jobs. I struggled to peer up into her face anyway, and I managed it at last. She had severely short dark hair and small features. Her eyes were careworn, but her face was pretty.
Smiling, I coughed, cleared my throat, and then remembered something. Once, on a different world, a different James McGill had asked this girl for a dinner date. We’d never had that date. Partly, it had been because all hell had broken loose on Tech World after we’d decided to get together. Unfortunately, there’d also been a number of other females around who’d objected, thus spoiling the mood.
Today, as far as I knew, no woman thought she owned me. Those that had once loved me had long since given up. I’d managed not to get entangled with anyone new on this campaign, probably due to the fact that my promotion and new training had kept me too busy for simple pleasures—or even complicated ones.
But now, eyeing Anne with a clarity of vision that improved every second, I knew what I wanted to do.
“You know what, Anne?” I asked.
“What is it, James?”
“You look harried and rushed, but you’re still beautiful to me.”
She’d been fussing with IVs and straps, but she paused and stared at me for a second. “Really James? Now? You’re going to make a play for the first woman you see—now?”
“Uh…the battle’s over, right?”
“Yes. You’re back aboard Cyclops. Legion Varus and what’s left of Solstice have all been recalled. But we’re redeploying again soon. It’s been several days since you died—sorry we didn’t get around to your file faster.”
“It’s okay, I understand. In fact—you know what? I think I’ve experienced my best death yet. I feel better about things today. I’m alive again, and my last body died well. It was probably the best job of dying I’ve ever done.”
She looked at me oddly and checked my stats again. Maybe she thought I was cracking up, but I didn’t care. I really felt great.
Sitting up and stretching, I took a series of deep breaths.
“So, what about it?” I asked her.
“What about what?”
“You owe me a date. Remember?”
Her face clouded, but I kept grinning at her. Finally, she laughed. “You are incorrigible.”
“Every man has to reach for the brass ring in his own way. At least, that’s what my grandpa used to say.”
“Did you really die singing some old war song?”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s probably what made the machines mob us. My singing is pretty bad. By the way, did the evac go smoothly afterward?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it smooth, but about eighty percent of the troops trapped in that valley made it out. The lifter could hardly fly by the time they boarded up.”
I laughed. “What about Graves? Did he make it out?”
“No. He fought to the end, the same as you did. Centurion Belter died as well. They’ve both been revived already.”
“What about—” I took a sly look around, seeing no one was listening, I continued, “What about that slippery weasel Winslade?”
“He made it to safety and was air-lifted out,” she confirmed, making a face.
“I figured.”
I looked down, thinking about the battle again. I’d thought of another person to ask about: Della. But I didn’t want to mention that name in front of Anne and freak her out all over again. I’d have to check on Della’s status later.
Anne must have seen the serious look on my face, because she touched my hand.
“Don’t let that smile you had fade, James. It’s so rare to see a man come back happy.”
“You know how to fix me,” I said.
She sighed. “All right. We’ve got a date. We’d better hurry, though. We’ve got a curse hanging over us in that department. Don’t forget this time—or start some new war.”
“I swear I won’t—and hope to die,” I said, smiling again.
The rest of the day on the ship went relatively smoothly. Those of us who had lost our dragons had been issued newly refurbished mount, and best of all we’d been given a full twenty-four hour leave. That was a rare reprieve for a man in the legions in the midst of a campaign. I knew it wasn’t because we’d earned it. The officers just hadn’t gotten our troop strengths up enough to redeploy us yet. But I appreciated the break, nonetheless.
Anne and I headed to Green Deck to have a picnic. We shared our battle-rations as part of our dinner date. To flavor it up, I found a few packets of food from home that I’d left behind in my locker the last time we’d been ordered to evacuate in a rush. It wasn’t much, just a pile of almonds, dried peaches and a few squeeze-bottles of wine. But compared to the insta-hot beige paste the processers were feeding people today, it was pretty good.
“This is so strange,” Anne said, sitting on the grass in twilight, “we were down on that nasty, stinking planet for weeks. Now, we’re up here enjoying Green Deck.”
“Did you die down there?” I asked.
“No. I was never in battle like the rest of you. I stayed back at the base camp with most of the lifters until Turov recalled us all.”
“Do you know why they pulled everyone back into space?”
“Well, not exactly, but I think they found another target to attack. Last time, we were just dumping troops on the planet in case the ships were knocked out. Better to get them on the ground than to lose them all. But now there’s more of a plan, I gather. The command people have figured out a goal and want to do it right this time.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said, reaching out a hand to touch her forearm for a moment. “I mean the part about having a plan and wanting to do things right.”
It took a second for Anne to figure out that I was talking about her. She shook her head and smiled.
“Charming,” she said. “That’s what the ladies all say about you. That you’re charming for a date or two then you wander off and forget their names.”
“That’s a dirty lie!” I complained. “I’ve never forgotten the name of the girl I’m going out with.”
“Okay, okay—but you know what I’m talking about.”
“This is just a nice dinner, that’s all,” I said. “Why do people have to make these things so complicated? Let’s talk about something else.”
I managed to get her off the topic of my dating habits and our get-together improved. We had a little wine, kissed, and walked around past other couples who were seeking privacy.
Finally, she stopped and looked up at me. “I know what you want, James,” she said. “But this doesn’t feel right. This place is so artificial. You know that they built it just to let
us relieve stress on a campaign?”
“Seems like a damned good idea to me. Just like a nice park in a small town.”
“Yes, but…I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right to me.”
“Okay. You want to go back to our quarters?”
“That’s not any more romantic!”
I was confused. She’d pretty much said it was over, so I’d figured she wanted to go home.
“Hey,” I said, “let me show you something.”
I took her down to the little canyon with the waterfall and the lake. There were a few people down there, but not too many. I showed her where I’d fought for my life against the other candidates and veterans of our unit. She seemed honestly impressed.
“You killed all of them?”
“Nah, not exactly. Some of them killed each other. I just finished off the last few that were still alive.”
“That’s so gruesome. To tear each other apart, just to prove who’s top dog. As a bio, that’s the last thing I’d want to see.”
“It’s supposed to be a secret contest, so you’ll probably never have to see one of these dog-fights in person.”
“The officers went along with this barbaric ritual?” she asked, still eyeing the battleground. She might have been looking for old bloodstains, but they’d long since washed away in the artificial rains.
“They sure did. They stood up there on the path and watched.”
She squinted in the gloom, eyeing the rocks and the lapping water. The waterfall never let the bubbling surface of the lake smooth over.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully. “They turn all this off when we get into battle or engage the warp drive. They drain the water back down into tanks and turn off the pumps. Even the rocks are anchored in case we lose centrifugal gravity or—”
I was laughing, so she stopped.
“You remind me of Natasha,” I said. “You’re always trying to figure things out. Look up there! Those are real stars tonight, not projections like when we’re in a warp bubble. Are those good enough for you?”