The Planetsider Trilogy

by G J Ogden

  “Okay…” said Maria, in a way that made it clear she thought Page was crazy. She tore a strip off the bottom of her shirt, rolled it up into tight bundle and held it out to Page.

  “What’s that for?”

  “For you to bite down on,” said Maria, coolly. “You’re going to need it.”

  Page’s frowning grimace became more frown than grimace, but he took the bundle, and placed it between his teeth. Maria then pressed one of Gaia’s advanced healing stimulants into the injector and administered it to Page. His face was already so twisted in pain that the hiss of the injector didn’t even register. She picked out another healing accelerant from the medikit and applied this to herself, then removed a minor pain tab and placed it on her tongue, where it instantly liquefied. She then replaced the injector, removed a small canister from the medikit and liberally sprayed a blue mist all around Page’s shoulder. Finally, she pressed the canister back into the medikit and slid it back in her pocket.

  “Are you ready?” said Maria, getting herself into position.Page took several deep breaths then bit down on the rolled up piece of Maria’s shirt and nodded.

  “Okay, I’m going to count down from five,” said Maria, remembering her first-aid training and sliding her hands into the optimal position on Page’s arm. She’d relocated a shoulder a couple of times before, and so felt confident she knew what she was doing.

  “Five… four… three…” and then Maria swiftly manipulated Page’s shoulder and felt it locate back into position, as the soldier’s muffled screams filled in the gaps in Maria’s aborted countdown.

  Page spat out the cloth bundle and rested back, breathing heavily like a sprinter at the end of a one-hundred meter dash. He gingerly flexed his shoulder and though there was still some pain, it moved normally.

  “What the hell happened to two and one?”

  “I got bored waiting,” replied Maria, with a wicked grin. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 7

  The door slid open and Major Darien bustled into the office that General Kurren had sequestered from Archer, after he had murdered him. The dumpling-shaped figure of Governor Jacob Kuba was standing behind the desk, quietly looking up at the pictures on the wall.

  “Kuba, we need to talk…” Darien began, but Kuba spun around and pressed a finger to his lips. Darien stared back at him, his brow furrowed, while Kuba coolly pointed to the door, which was still open. Darien stepped further into the office and waited for the door to thud shut behind him.

  “We must be cautious, dear Major,” said Kuba, smoothly. “More than ever it is vital that we appear strong and united, and that the subject of our discussions does not also become the subject of idle gossip.”

  Darien’s frown developed into a scowl. It was obvious that Kuba was indirectly admonishing him for his lack of restraint and flustered temperament, and he did not appreciate the politician’s condescending tone. But, though he felt like putting Kuba back in his box, there were more important matters to discuss.

  “The probe we sent into the atmosphere managed to transmit some data back to the base before it burned up,” Darien said, intentionally ignoring Kuba’s rebuke. “It failed to detect any transponder idents from Kurren’s unit, and from the limited images we could recover, the transport ship we sent down is still docked at the spaceport outside Green Haven.”

  Kuba’s expression was flat and gave nothing away. “So, it is confirmed then? General Kurren and his units are lost, and Maria Salus has returned?”

  Darien pulled up a chair and slumped into it. He rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and then, with a disconsolate tone, answered. “Yes, it would appear so, Governor.”

  Unseen to Darien, Kuba’s lip curled into a greasy smile at the acknowledgment by the de-facto military leader of his status as Governor. He slid into Kurren’s plush executive chair and rested his elbows on the desk, which held a portable holo and a few cracked photos of former Governor Archer and his family. He remembered how General Kurren had been methodically and callously discarding the personal objects belonging to Archer after the coup. But, if what Darien had said was true, the mighty General was now dead, and the knowledge of this buoyed Kuba greatly. He found himself sizing up the room and mentally placing his own personal belongings in the space.

  “We must assume that Maria Salus has turned Major Page to her cause, and that they plan to end our little revolution,” said Kuba. It was a statement that didn’t need making, but the new governor was curious to hear Darien’s response. With General Kurren dead, he was now the ranking officer, and the man that the sector commanders – their most loyal allies on the ground – would look to for leadership. Without the support of the sector commanders their control over the base would break down. From his deflated demeanor, Darien did not appear to be grasping the opportunity to take command.

  “Yes, Kuba, I think that much is obvious,” said Darien testily as he lowered his head and massaged the back of his neck. “What a mess. I wish I’d never gotten involved.”

  Kuba smiled, not the faux, politician’s half-smile that he would usually flash, but a wide, greedy smile that he was careful never to let others see. As Darien began to raise his head, Kuba was careful to resume his former, flat expression.

  “The General’s mission was highly classified, but his absence will soon be noticed,” said Kuba. “May I suggest that word be passed to the sector commanders that any talk of the General’s whereabouts, or speculation as to the nature of his classified mission, will be met with severe punishment?”

  Darien looked up at Kuba and raised an eyebrow, but Kuba was quick to head off any suspicion that he was trying to tell him what to do. “You are the military expert, of course, Major, I intend no interference, only to help.”

  “No, you’re right,” said Darien, who found it hard to disagree with Kuba’s input. In fact, he welcomed it. “There are no secrets on this base, so sooner or later word will get out, if it hasn’t already.”

  Kuba returned his practiced half-smile, but saw an opportunity to push Darien further. The major had already made it clear that he regretted his actions, and so could no longer be trusted to lead, and without strong, decisive leadership, the sector commanders would waver, and Kuba’s bullying influence over the council of ministers would then also falter. They would demand an end to martial law and a return to civil governance, and rather than risk an internal conflict, Darien would buckle under the pressure and concede. There would be fresh elections and the council would cast him out. But he had not come this far to allow a weak willed coward to ruin everything he had worked for and that was, by rights, his.

  “Major, may I also make another, perhaps more radical suggestion?” said Kuba, smoothly.

  Darien shifted in his seat, suddenly reminded of how uncomfortable they were. He regarded Kuba for a few more seconds, trying to figure out if he was up to something, but the governor merely smiled softly back at him, his sharp little eyes blinking almost robotically.

  “Go on…” said Darien.

  “With General Kurren gone, and also the other senior commanders regrettably lost during the attack on the GPS space station, military command resides solely with yourself.”

  Darien shifted uncomfortably in his seat again. “Yes, so?”

  “This places the endeavor at great risk, major, since if you are also incapacitated, there is no clear chain of command to anyone we trust.”

  “Why the hell would I be incapacitated?” asked Darien, defensively, growing increasingly more suspicious of the governor’s irregular line of questioning.

  Kuba maintained his level expression, though internally he despaired at the fact that Darien had focused on himself, rather than reading between the lines. He decided to spell it out more clearly, and more malevolently.

  “I do not suggest the possibility is likely,” said Kuba, “more that it is a risk that needs mitigating. Though, considering Maria Salus and Major Page have retu
rned, it is reasonable to assume the simplest way to end the coup would be to assassinate the remaining military leadership.” He was clear to emphasize the word ‘military’ so as to make it clear that Darien, rather than himself, would be a target.

  Darien swallowed hard and pushed himself out of the chair, which had become unbearable, like the situation he now found himself in. Kuba was right; Maria Salus had already killed Kurren, and if she had been able to defeat the General and four full squads of elite UEC forces in combat armor, without any weapons or allies, what chance did he stand?

  “We should get rid of these damned uncomfortable chairs,” growled Darien, feeling the need to offer an excuse for why he had suddenly stood up. “Anyway, what is it you are suggesting, Kuba? Get to the point!”

  “Grant me military authority, equivalent to the rank of Major,” said Kuba, finding it difficult not let his placid half-smile widen. “This ensures a trustworthy and robust chain of command, while also making you less of a target.”

  Darien folded his arms. “Why would you be willing to place yourself at risk? That’s not your style, Kuba.”

  “But, I am already at risk, Major,” said Kuba, trying to sound hurt and wounded. “If Maria Salus succeeds in assassinating you and our administration fails, I will be convicted of treason and executed.” Kuba paused for effect and then continued, allowing his voice to crack a little as he spoke. “Believe me, Major, my interests are aligned with yours. So long as you are safe, I am also. And the best way to serve both our interests is to remain united and strong.”

  Darien ran his hand though his hair and then turned his back to Kuba, so that he could think without the politician scrutinizing every movement of his facial muscles. On the rear wall of the office was a series of photographs of Governor Thomas Archer that Kurren had not gotten around to removing before he had embarked on his revenge mission to the planet. Archer’s governorship had once been ironclad, but by choosing to pursue the peace process with Diana and Maria, his support within the government and military had fractured, leaving him vulnerable. From a position of supreme authority and respect, he had allowed Kurren and Kuba to tear him down and ultimately end his life. With Kurren and the other senior co-conspirators now gone, it was Darien who was left to face the oncoming storm. He did not like it and he did not want it.

  “Fine, I will issue the orders at once,” said Darien, with his back still to Kuba, which meant he was oblivious to the devilish leer that spread across the politician’s face. But by the time Darien had turned around again, any hint of this smile had already been wiped away.

  “Perhaps, now that GPS has been defeated, we should just give up martial law?” suggested Darien, hopefully. He was still thinking how best to remove himself from the firing line. “If you think about it, it’s not necessary any more, and perhaps if we offer a truce, Salus and Page will end this all peacefully?”

  Darien’s weakness infuriated Kuba. After all they had done, and despite Darien’s bluster while Kurren was in command, the major lacked the will to see it though. He was looking for a way out, but he could not see that there was no way out, not for either of them. They had to stay the course, and if Darien was unwilling, or incapable of doing so then he would have to be eliminated.

  “Of course, the aim should be to return to a peaceful, non-military government,” said Kuba, struggling more than ever to retain his easy smile.

  “Good, I’m glad we agree,” Darien replied, though Kuba hadn’t quite finished.

  “But, not yet;” Kuba added, more forcefully, “the situation is far too fragile, and we do not wish to incite rebellion within our own ranks, from those still loyal to Kurren’s vision.”

  Darien peered back at Kuba with narrowed eyes and then grunted a grudging acknowledgment. Being assassinated by his own soldiers was no more appealing than being killed by Maria Salus. According to Kuba, he was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. “So, what do you suggest, Governor?”

  Kuba’s mind was moving faster than a space fighter, trying to formulate a plan to deal with Darien on-the-fly as their conversation developed. “I suggest we reconvene in the Teardrop, where we can ensure that we are not overheard or monitored,” he said, with a flash of inspiration. “It is the only venue on the base that is protected from prying eyes and ears. There, together, you and I can come up with a plan for an orderly transition back to civilian governance.”

  “Okay, the Teardrop is good, but why wait?” asked Darien. “I mean, why not announce our intentions?”

  “Right now the military lacks the support of the people,” replied Kuba, wondering how this fool had ever gained a commission in the first place. “The will of the people would put pressure on the council of ministers to hold you personally accountable for Kurren’s actions,” Darien visibly shuddered, “but, managed correctly, I can help to ensure you are seen in the best light, and even as a hero – the man who put everything to rights.” Kuba attempted a kindly smile, though in reality it was just as greasy as all his other attempts at friendliness. “We can be a great team, you and I, Major Darien."

  Darien nodded his head and looked visibly relieved. “Good. So, we reconvene in the Teardrop in two hours, agreed?”

  Kuba smiled back at Darien and nodded, amiably. Two hours was more than he needed to further his plan. “Agreed.”

  Darien left without another word, and Kuba remained seated, smiling softly until the door thudded shut behind him, then the smile fell from his face and his eyes narrowed. He stood and moved around to the other side of the desk and placed a hand on the back of the chair that Darien had sat in earlier; the same chair that he had sat in while Kurren had made him endure his thinly veiled threats and intimidations. But now the tyrant was dead and in his place was a fool who was about to grant him military authority, on top of his prime status in the council of ministers. Only Darien stood in the way of him gaining decisive control over the UEC, and soon that obstacle would be eliminated too. His face twisted as blood surged through his veins, and he picked up the chair and threw it at Kurren’s desk, where it collided with the heavy metal frame and snapped in half.

  Chapter 8

  Ethan sat on the wall, staring out towards the crest of the hill, waiting for Gaia to arrive in the transport. While he waited, Tyler’s automated machines buzzed and whirred around him, fixing, upgrading and augmenting Forest Gate. He didn’t know how long he’d been there; he had simply climbed up shortly after settling Summer down in the bed in his hut. Yuna had said that she would likely be unconscious for a few hours more, as a result of the meds she had administered, and that there was nothing Ethan, or any of them, could do except wait.

  The day was fading and the wind was driving an almost unbroken blanket of darkening clouds overhead. Ethan felt the cool prickle of rain land on his face and heard the gentle patter of the drops splattering on his overcoat. An outsider might expect nothing more than a heavy shower, but Ethan had lived in Forest Gate long enough to know that a storm was coming. He fastened the top buttons of his coat and pulled up the hood, but he remained planted on the wall. Another of the automatons hummed past and began to fix a device to a platform at the corner closest to him. Ethan watched it work for a moment and then glanced around the settlement, marveling at how quickly and efficiently Tyler’s mechanical army had not only repaired the damage, but augmented the fortifications with pre-Fall technology. He didn’t know what most of it was, even though Tyler had attempted to explain it in stupefying levels of detail, but he knew that the contraptions that perched in the four corners of each wall were even more deadly than the GARDs, which continued to circle the settlement, hunting for prey. The genetically deformed were especially susceptible to fire and electrical energy, Tyler had explained, and had gone on to describe the menacing looking turrets as ‘shock cannons’. Tyler had done more than simply upgrade the defenses; he had also planted sensors around the settlement, using technology salvaged from the ships that the UEC and GPS survivors had landed in. He’d call
ed it an ‘early warning system’, in case of an attack, but Ethan had no intention of just sitting inside the walls and waiting for the maddened to come; he was going to take the fight to them instead. He huffed a laugh, thinking about how Administrator Talia would turn in her grave if she knew what Ethan had done to Forest Gate, but he had no regrets. For the first time since the Fall, they were no longer living in a state of constant fear, hiding from and running away from roamers and the maddened. Had it not been for the serious matters weighing heavily on his mind, all of this would have made him feel elated. But as he sat on the wall, watching the crest of the hill, he felt nothing except the rain.

  A low rumble of thunder rolled across the horizon and the rain began to fall harder. In the distance, Ethan saw a shape. He stood up and squinted, blinking rain away from his eyes, as the shape grew larger and more distinct. The turret in the corner of the wall sparked into life and the deep rumble of its motors and resonant hum of its power cells charging startled Ethan. The turret aimed itself directly at the oncoming object, tracking its path, but just as rapidly as it had come alive, it stood down and returned to its statuesque pose, letting out the mechanical equivalent of a relaxed sigh as the power cells hummed back to silence. Ethan could now see why, because the object that was approaching was a crawler. He shot up and ran along the wall to the nearest ladder, taking care not to slip on the wooden planks, which had been made greasy by the intensifying rain. Sliding down the ladder he ran to fetch Yuna and Zoie from inside the council chamber, where Tyler had transitioned the equipment needed to control and monitor the many new additions to Forest Gate.

  “She’s here!” Ethan called out as he reached the top of the shallow run of steps that lead up to the door. Yuna and Zoie looked up from their consoles, glanced briefly at each other and rushed to join Ethan. The rain caught them by surprise, and Zoie scrunched up her face and tried to shield her head as the cold droplets fell.