Green World

by B. V. Larson

  “Cooper, have you ever dropped a complex electronic device into a bucket of water?”

  “I dropped my mom’s work-scanner into the toilet once—it was an accident, of course.”

  “Of course,” I said, knowing he was lying. “These robots have open wire harnesses. I didn’t see any rubber-coated seals in there.”

  “Oh…”

  We kept scooting along until we were swimming. Some of my troops didn’t make it that far. In fact, seven of them died on that beach. A few had straightened up and run like fools. A few more had hung back too long, not sure if they should follow their unit into the water. After these losers were shot in the ass by a dozen charging robots, they learned the error of their ways. The enemy had realized they couldn’t hit us, so they’d advanced to where they could.

  The lagoon wasn’t all that deep. Ten meters at the most, no more than that. But that was all the depth we needed. We squatted on the bottom, and our gear weighed us down enough to keep us from floating away. Since we were in spacer suits, oxygen wasn’t a problem. Our radios even worked decently, but we’d lost our connection with the ship’s grid.

  “Why didn’t they give the robots space suits?” Harris asked me.

  Leeson answered that one. “Because the brass is cheap. If they gave them a full kit, they might as well use flesh and blood. It’s always about the cost of things—always.”

  After about ten minutes, a few of the robots tried to get to us. They walked into the water, and we could see their metal feet. They didn’t go in deeper than their plastic knees, however. They stuck their rifles into the water and fired at us, like hicks trying to shoot fish.

  “Jeez!” Harris complained, retreating down to the bottom. He’d been halfway up the slope to the surface. “They’re getting close with some of those rounds. You think they’re smart enough to find spears or something?”

  “I doubt it. Cooper! Della! Put your stealth suits on and go up there.”

  “What are we supposed to do to the robots?” Cooper complained.

  “Take these cables and get a loop around a foot.”

  My two ghosts swam up to the line of metal feet. They looped cables around anything they could then snaked away. The robots had visual sensors, but it seemed that their software couldn’t recognize a man underwater in a stealth suit.

  Cooper brought a cable down to me, and I had several heavies grab onto it. We yanked the wire—we yanked it hard.

  Hooked by the leg, a robot came jouncing down to us. It lost hold of its rifle, and before we could even hammer it to death, the light went out of its camera eye. It went rigid in death, but I put an explosive charge on its chassis and lit it up anyway.

  “You wrecked it, sir,” Harris said as he examined the robot.

  “They don’t seem to like taking a bath,” I said, and everyone laughed. “Go get me some more of them.”

  The ghosts swam off, and we soon had fresh game to beat on. After we’d destroyed maybe seven of these evil machines, they stopped venturing into the water.

  It was about ten minutes after that when a big pair of boots came marching down from the shore. We all had our rifles up, and Cooper even tried to loop a wire around one of those black boots.

  I could have told him that was a bad idea. Cooper did a fancy dance, then began to float toward the surface in a dark, misty cloud of blood. I noted that the hilt of a combat knife had sprouted from his back.

  “Primus Graves?” I called out when the owner of the boots was in range of our intercoms. “What brings you down here, sir? This is dangerous territory. We might have killed you.”

  “3rd Unit…?” he said, as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “I should have known. Don’t you fools know this exercise has been terminated?”

  “Why, no sir. We can’t hear the general ship’s channels down here.”

  “You’re hereby ordered to stand down. The other troops have all been destroyed or they’ve surrendered, and it’s time for you to do the same. You’re done with hiding down here on the bottom of the lake. ”

  “Hiding? We’re not hiding, sir. We’re costing the enemy dearly. By my count, we’re exactly even. The robots got seven of my men, and we got seven of theirs.”

  That’s when Graves noticed the wrecked robots strewn around. He marched around from one to the next, surveying the damage. “These things are experimental. This is going to cost Central millions, McGill.”

  “Can’t they just print out another robot?”

  “You know damned well they can’t. Was that your plan? To make this experiment costly, and teach the brass a lesson?”

  “What? I don’t even know what you’re saying right now. My plan was to survive. We moved to defensible ground, and we destroyed an even number of the enemy. What did Winslade and the rest expect us to do?”

  “They expected you to die. Most of the men up top did just that.”

  I shook my head and tsked. “Poor tactics. Poor leadership. Maybe I should give a briefing on making the most out of what you have to work with on the battlefield.”

  Graves laughed. His voice was rough and gravelly, but he honestly seemed amused. “We’ll do that, McGill. Come on, the robots have been shut down, and they’re being packed up by a team of techs straight from the vaults. The game is over.”

  “In that case, we’ll have to take these specimens back to them for study.”

  “You do that, McGill.”

  Signaling my men, I had them haul the ruined robots up to the surface. They were in pieces, most of them.

  When we delivered the broken scrap metal, dripping wet and all twisted up, the techs were shocked.

  “Good God! What happened to these units?” the tech leader demanded. She was a prissy thing with a short haircut and beady eyes.

  Someone pointed at me, and she rounded on me with a nasty scowl on her face. I nodded to her, standing tall and smiling proudly.

  “Sure, we bagged a few. You might want to send a diver down to find the rest of the pieces at the bottom. They seem kind of delicate for combat units, honestly.”

  “You did this? You destroyed government property willfully, and now you’re admitting it? Is that what I’m hearing from you, soldier?”

  “Uh… yeah, pretty much. What did you expect? These things started shooting at my men. You’re lucky we knew this was an exercise, or we might have wrecked them all.”

  “So much damage… all seven of these are a total loss. I’m reporting this to Central. There will be an inquiry!”

  “Good idea. Whoever did the design on these things should be fired—or maybe even shot.”

  “What?” she asked, blinking up at me.

  I laughed long and loud. “I’m saying they need to find out who was so shit-off stupid as to make a combat robot that can’t take a little water. Do you realize that we’re heading to a planet that’s mostly covered by one big green sea? How do you think these toys will operate in a real battle, where the other side is issued real weapons, and there is real weather?”

  She looked down at her wet, wrecked robots.

  “You seem forlorn, Miss,” I said. “Take heart. Sometimes, the good Lord delivers his best lessons with a swift kick in the pants.”

  I walked off Green Deck after that, and my unit followed me. They were all laughing and carrying on, but it was hard to believe how many dead troops we saw as we left.

  Had these shitty robots really slaughtered most of the humans? I was outright embarrassed to hear it.

  -34-

  The next day was a grueling one. I was given debriefings, a long flogging session, and six hours in the brig. After that, I was forced to sign a long list of promises.

  “I’ll never do any of it again, and you can take that to the bank!”

  I played the part with gusto. It fit perfectly with my lifelong rule concerning such formalities. Whenever anyone wanted an apology, a promise—or even a solemn vow—I swore to it all without reservation. I gave them what they wanted, and it was my experien
ce that doing so immediately got people off your back the fastest.

  Naturally, I never had any intention of following through with my long list of promised changes to my personality. It was all for show, and I think some of them knew it. Still, I stand by my methods. They usually made authority figures shut the hell up.

  “McGill?” Graves asked me later the next evening. “Are you out of purgatory so early? Wait a minute—you didn’t break out of the brig again, did you?”

  “Absolutely not, sir. I’m offended at the concept.”

  “Sure you are… what’d you tell them?”

  “Whatever they wanted to hear. I don’t rightly remember the details…”

  Graves grinned. That was kind of a rare thing, so I shared the moment with a grin of my own.

  He lowered his voice from gravely speech to a low rumble. “You know, in secret, I’m glad you did it. Serves those nerds right. Their robots aren’t even approved for deployment by the Galactics.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. Given that the robots are a violation, why are they out here with us on this adventure?”

  Graves shrugged. “We’re not in Province 921 anymore, remember? Mogwa laws don’t apply here.”

  “Ah… right. I get it. Are we really going to have to fight with these things?”

  “I don’t know. They’ll have to put them in rubber suits or something. You probably did them a favor by showing them that weakness.”

  “That’s what I told the techies, but it was no dice. Arrogant sons-a-bitches.”

  Graves chuckled and bought me my next brew. At least I knew I was good with him—and he wasn’t alone. Several others had come to secretly cheer me on. Everyone under the level of Winslade hated the robots. No one had ever liked getting a beat-down from a machine. No one.

  To my surprise, Graves didn’t walk out of the place. Instead, he spun a chair around backwards and sat on it. He stared at me intently. “How are you feeling after that flogging?”

  “Uh… not bad. It’s nothing a can of spray-on skin couldn’t fix up.”

  He nodded, and he kept staring at me.

  “Is there something else, Primus?”

  “Yep. Can you guess what it is?”

  I shook my head. “Give me a hint, sir. It’s been a long day.”

  “Okay… you know how we don’t have the enemy position too well pinned down? Out on Green World?”

  “Uh… yeah, sure. I heard some theories. The biggest landmass, south side—you told me yourself, sir.”

  “So I did. Can you think of a quick way we can get some recon? Maybe even a fix on the enemy base? I’m talking about the actual location, so we don’t have to spend a day or two scanning the planet?”

  I squinched up my eyes, giving it a hard think. “We could use probes, right?”

  Graves smiled, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “Close—if you’re calling a tele-cast commando a probe.”

  “Oh… oh now, hold on, Primus.”

  He stood up again, and he clapped me on the back. That burned where my skin had been recently peeled back. “Tomorrow is your lucky day. Report to Gray Deck at 0600—and don’t be late.”

  I nodded, and I didn’t even argue. Sure, I was banged up, tired, and this was a suicide mission—but that’s how things went in the legions. Graves had liked how I’d trashed the robots, but he turned around and volunteered me for this hell-ride to Green World anyway.

  That night I flopped on my bunk, tuckered out. Something about fighting hard then being punished all day long with meetings and beatings took it out of a man.

  But along about midnight, when I was snoring hard, someone tapped on my door.

  I came awake with a snort, fumbling out my pistol. No one was in the room, so I set it aside. “Go away!” I shouted at the door. Then I began dreaming again almost immediately.

  The lock snicked open.

  My bloodshot eyes flapped open. I came up with a knife in my hand. I was growling like a bear.

  “Sorry, Centurion,” said a soft voice. “I… I’ll come back some other time.”

  My mind caught up quickly. I gave myself a shake and pulled open the door.

  Jenny Mills stood there, eyeing me and the deck in turn.

  “What’s up, Centurion?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “I thought maybe you needed some cheering up. I mean—they blamed you for the robots and everything. If I’d thought of it, I’d have done the same thing. Those machines chewed up my unit.”

  I nodded, and I yawned. “Want to come in?”

  “I don’t want to disturb your beauty rest.”

  “You already have, and that’s a crying shame—but I’m a man who can accept apologies.”

  She looked up at me for a moment. She was thinking it over. I figured I’d freaked her out a little by roaring awake telling her to piss off and all. Girls never liked that kind of greeting.

  Finally, she relaxed and gave me a flickering smile. “I could use a nightcap—if you’re not too tired.”

  I was tired. Bone-tired. But, when an attractive young lady is interested, there’s always a little more juice in my battery. I took her hand, led her inside, and fed her some spirits. We made a night of it, until I rolled out of bed around 0530 to get ready for my scheduled Gray Deck jaunt.

  “Where are you going? Do you run your troops every morning, even after yesterday?”

  “Usually, yes. But today is special. You know this place we’re headed to?”

  “You mean Green World? I guess, but I’ve never been there.”

  “Well, I’m going to visit the place early. I’m being fired out of a cannon to scout the planet for the brass.”

  Jenny looked shocked. “You’ve drawn a suicide mission? Because you broke a few robots? That’s not fair.”

  I shrugged. “Nope. These things never are. Wish me luck.”

  She gave me a small kiss, and her voice was hot in my ear. “Luck, James.”

  I gave her tight little butt one last squeeze, then she slipped away, saying she had to go before everyone in the unit knew she’d spent the night in my cabin.

  Unfortunately, I was pretty sure they all knew by now anyway. When you’ve got two female techs in your unit, and they’ve both slept with you in the past, well sir, there’s no such thing as privacy.

  -35-

  Half an hour later I was still yawning and scratching. I found myself stuffed into a casting couch, and the damned thing was a bit too short for my lengthy person. I barely cared. If part of me strayed out of the field and I died, or whatever, well sir that could only speed up the whole process.

  Casting was another form of teleportation. There were three ways to transmit yourself around the universe, to the best of my knowledge. One was to use gateway posts. These were great devices, as they permanently linked two spots that were up to a thousand lightyears apart. As long as they were powered, you could walk through them and find yourself walking out the other side, and it felt like it was only an instant later.

  What I didn’t like about that method was the fact it was all a lie. What really happened was you got unmade, disintegrated molecule by molecule, and your reassembly data was transmitted to the other gateway. There, the system put you back together again.

  That all sounded pretty cool until you heard the snap and pop of bodies being blasted apart. It left a hot smell that lingered, and I wasn’t a fan of the whole process.

  The second method wasn’t perfect, either. It involved wearing a suit or a harness. This system also had limited range, and you were aware while you were traveling. Every second, you moved about a lightyear, and you felt like you were dying the whole time. Just try holding your breath and counting slowly to a thousand if you want to know what it’s like.

  The last method, most recently developed by the spooks under Central, was the most diabolical of all. It was called casting because your existence was sort of thrown into the void. The cool part was that the techs kept a quantum tether with the subject, and w
ere able to observe what he was up to for about ten to twenty minutes.

  The bad part was there wasn’t any way to get the fellow back. Being clever, resourceful and cruel, the techs had devised a solution to this problem. Their usual approach consisted of having the commando kill himself at around the fifteen minute mark. That way, he could make certain his observers witnessed the event and were convinced he was dead. They could then print out a new legal copy back home.

  That was the system I was strapped into today. Naked as a jaybird and twice as ornery, I found myself growing impatient as I waited to die.

  “Where am I going, exactly?” I asked a bored tech girl.

  She shrugged, and she didn’t even look at me. “Some planet called Green World.”

  “I know that, girl,” I laughed. “Where on Green World?”

  She glanced at me. She was messing with settings and spinning up a fusion generator. That wasn’t enough power to fire my ass all the way across the cosmos, of course. It was just enough to power up the containment field. The surge of power the device needed to send me on my way required her to connect up thick cables directly to Dominus’ engines.

  “I don’t know, Centurion. They’re just a lot of numbers they gave me. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

  I grumbled, and I slouched back onto the too-small couch. “They probably pulled the coordinates from one of those original squid-made teleport suits. They had Green World down as one of their six selected destinations. Did you know that?”

  “Uh-huh…” she said, not listening to me at all. “Could you just relax for a minute, sir? I need to punch this data in without making a mistake.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll shut up. But, say—”

  I’d been about to propose a date, although my heart wasn’t in it, when she suddenly threw a big switch, and the machine began to shiver and light up.

  “Okay, pull your feet and hands in, please. That’s right, ball-up tight. You’re too big for this unit.”

  I did as she said, and I winced a little. Being converted into a bright ball of plasma never felt natural to me.