by Grover Young
“It most certainly does,” putting it to the side, I made certain it would be safe, “and thank you.”
Deans' face as he got an identical tablet was priceless! I thought he was going to jump and start doing the happy dance in front of us all.
Then, it was my turn again. In the most garish green wrapping paper you ever saw, I found a new Batman belt complete with wallet!
“I remember how you lost yours in our first meeting,” Tash's pliable yellow beak smiled. “This material is the same as your uniform and comes with a separate control for its functions. This gives a much greater range of functions besides the basic ones you're using now.”
“Thank you, Tash,” I smiled back. I never did find that damn wallet, and had been making do with a new one purchased out of the Base Exchange.
To make a long story short, each of us received a set of Skins and a Sha'leian tablet with Kzon's library. I thought Dean was going to get up and dance with his new tablet, while Tamara was just simply in overload. As for Sheila, I definitely saw the mischief in her eyes as she examined her Skins.
As for our Guests, they were damn hard to shop for. Just what do you get friendly alien invaders for Christmas?
The multi-tool was my attempt, since the one I carried was the best thing I'd ever bought myself. It'd saved my bacon on more than one occasion. Sheila found a collection of novelty ties featuring Marvin the Martian, and Dean gifted them with an assortment of brain teasers. Tamara had found each of them fancy watches from somewhere and had added some adjustable bands given the physiology of their arms.
“I think it’s time for dinner,” Sheila decreed as she and Tamara headed off to the kitchen to bring the food to the table.
Meanwhile, Dean and I were trying not to chuckle at the Sha'leians in their neckties and wrist watches. He'd volunteered to show them how to tie a Windsor knot. My multi-tool gifts had simply been attached to their belts as they should be.
We'd just gotten everything to the table and about to sit down when all our Guests froze. Startled they looked at each other, speaking in rapid bursts of their own language.
“We have to go,” Ralt said, gathering his gifts, “The recall has sounded.”
“Get on the radio!” I said to Dean, as they left out the door.
Then, I turned to Sheila who was already hustling, putting the food away.
“I'm on it!” She drafted Tamara to help.
“I'll help them get airborne.” Running out the door, I beat our Guests to the barn.
“We're sorry,” Tash began, as Kzon and Ralt hurried inside the saucer.
“Nothing to apologize for,” I gave him that Sha'leian salute, “You have your duty as I have mine. Now get inside while I force these doors all the way open.”
“Farewell, Quantum Warrior.” He waved before the hatch sealed.
“God's speed,” I replied, wondering if this was the last time we would meet in peace.
The saucer edged out carefully, but as soon as it was clear, Ralt, the pilot, threw caution to the wind, going hell for leather straight up.
Nearly blown off my feet, I turned and ran for the house.
Sheila had thrown most of the prepared feast into the fridge, but what could travel went into her Caddy. It went fast since she'd expected to have little time after dinner because of the need to leave quickly to avoid being snowed in. As always, she'd been prepared.
I feared everything from a kinetic strike to F-35's on a bomb run. It was vital we get out of here fast.
“MacDill isn't aware of anything, but the word is out,” Dean reported as we got moving.
Not more than ten minutes later we were on the road. I had to briefly change to Halcyon to brute force the cars to the main road, but that went quick.
The drive back to base, while not a nightmare, was stressful as hell. It was the not-knowing and waiting that was tough. Sheila, leading in her Caddy used her decades of experience in driving in wintery stuff to plow a path.
Only once did I have to do the Halcyon thing again, but that hardly slowed us. Immediately, I changed back as to not accumulate a cool-down. I had to think about conserving my strength. There was the real possibility that I would be thrown into battle, still in testing or not.
The base was on full alert when we entered which was a sure sign something bad had gone down. I hate it when I'm right.
As soon as we hit doors, we got the bad news. They had dropped on Asheville, NC which was right in the middle of a major storm. Just freaking perfect.
“Here,” Sheila set a plate of food in front of me, “we will figure out a way.”
“I sure hope so.” They picked one hell of a spot to sit down. Early reports say they're using the various national park visitor centers’ parking lots as landing pads along the Blue Ridge Parkway. None of that is good ground for our best weapon against them, tanks.
“Just to show they can learn they're using drones to take out bridges and attack anything that's moving. On those mountain roads, it's that 'shooting-fish-in-a-barrel' thing.” I rubbed my eyes, “That explains why they had so many of the damn things to defend against that nuke strike.”
“I'd wondered if our dinner thing had somehow triggered this.” Taking a bite of the stuffing, I made myself savor the taste. This was likely to be my last meal of real food for a long time.
“However, I think it was instead, that attempted nuke strike that did the trick.” I stared at a map of the area, “Perhaps they thought revealing just how many drones they'd built tipped their hand. Be that as it may, letting Tash and Ralt attend our dinner as scheduled did keep us from sounding the alarm any earlier.”
“I don't think they knew.” Sheila ignored the military public display of affection rules as she rubbed my shoulders, “Maybe the decision hadn't been made yet when they started on their way.”
“Could be,” I admitted, “despite all we've learned about them, they are still aliens, so it could go either way. On the other hand, I'm inclined to say our friends had every intention of keeping the peace and their word.
“But that doesn't help us with this mess.” The storm is making it nearly impossible to get people into the area, but it isn't slowing their 'bots in the least. It seems they are using a new tactic of using drones to transport 'bots in air assault tactics. They've set rail-gun heavy detachments on all the surrounding peaks and choke points. None of our air assets can get close.”
What I didn't say was how worried I was about our guys on the ground. Dear fearless leader, General Benson, was not one to patiently pick apart a puzzle. The second he thought he had an opening he would be moving.
South Carolina and North Carolina National Guard units were responding which included an entire brigade of heavy armor, the 218th. The 82nd Airborne out of Ft. Bragg was reported riding up with the NC NG 252nd armor regiment.
I just knew Benson would try a Patton type counter-attack in the Ardennes, but this time it was the bad guys who were entrenched.
And I couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Anything not grounded by the weather was being pressed into action at Asheville. So, I wasn't going back to Camp Mackall anytime soon, although I was officially assigned to Pantheon Team Alpha. The training unit wasn't even to supposed to be active until after New Years.
Sheila gave me a hug before going to check on the latest reports. That left me all the time in the world to glare at the plastic Christmas tree sitting in one corner of the office.
“Merry Christmas.” I laid my head on the desk.
New Years Eve
“You know this is F'ing insane don't you?” The F-35 crew chief checked my modified and jury-rigged parachute harness fitted with suspension lugs.
Air Force Captain Doug, 'Da' Bus', Ingebretson silently nodded his agreement.
“You just get me there close and fast enough, Captain.” I was glad I'd emptied myself out earlier. Otherwise, I would be soiling myself, and wouldn't that just ruin the image of the crazed Pantheon bad-ass.
Assuming the position on the munitions cradle never meant for a person, the suspension hooks engaged the lugs on my harness. The chief checked my helmet and air-mask as well as the auxiliary oxygen system crammed into a modified drop tank.
At my thumbs up, the bay doors closed, carrying Halcyon, me, inside the barely large enough internal compartment. I was imprisoned in darkness.
Every moment, I was cursing a certain Army General and every Sha'leian that'd ever been born.
Feeling us taxiing, I tried to think of anything other than this mad plan I myself had suggested. Okay, I'd only wanted an aircraft to get me up to speed so I could zoom by all the rail-gun emplacements. Unfortunately, after a lot brainstorming, the only thing that looked like it might work was something so absolutely bug-house nuts, even the Special Forces guys looked at me as if I'd a screw loose. Hell, by my agreeing to this insanity, they were right!
“Standby, I'm lighting the burner in five, four, three, two, one,” 'Da' Bus' warned over the cobbled together intercom that used the bay's normal data linking with its payload.
Even as Halcyon, I grunted as the harness grabbed into me as the quantum drive drove us forward.
Sheila was going to kill me.
Boxing Day December 26
“We've lost contact with the Eastern US Quick Reaction Task Force Command Post,” the very tired looking acting commanding general told us, “Remnants of The 218th Brigade have reported that the assault on the enemy's beachhead failed. The 82nd is holding Asheville, but determined interdiction by enemy air assets forced the majority of our armor to withdraw.
“It appears that their autofacs are resupplying the drones with missiles as they perform sweeps across the entire region.” The General's face was haggard, “First of all, there were not one but three T-Rex class command tanks which means this beachhead had much greater numbers than their previous attempts. They also had significant reserve forces which targeted our jamming capability.”
I looked at the mixed matched group of Special Forces, Pantheon and other military officers at this briefing. Technically, I was temporarily attached to Team Epsilon again, or I should say what was left of it. Athena and one other were only the survivors, which was the reason why we knew as much as we did about what we faced.
The numbers clicked with me. Each command tank controlled one hundred 'bots and drones. With the jamming out, the Sha'leians were directly controlling that fourth group which was raising hell all over the area of operations.
It seemed both Dean and I were right. They did take out the jamming and did make more use of their AI's, if only building and making more use of them, instead of making them all more capable.
Athena, being a mixture of strong woman and speedster, had dragged out a badly wounded teammate. Standing by herself, she looked beat. Hell, we all looked beaten. Team Epsilon was a team only in name. Only Athena and I even knew each other, plus none of us had trained together. Delta and Gamma Teams were the only other ones who were close enough to respond, and Rangers from Ft. Benning in Georgia were here, too. Speaking of which, the 3rd Infantry Division was on the move from Ft. Benning and Ft. Stewart, also in Georgia.
The problem was time.
Whatever losses General Benson's attack had inflicted on the Sha'leian, they would be back to full strength in short order with those autofacs. The fact of the drones being so aggressive with their missiles suggested that was a done deal.
Just one hundred 'bot's and drones needed a brigade or better strength to put them down. With four times that, along with weather conditions and terrain, the Sha'leians had created a meat grinder waiting for us to insert selected parts of our anatomy.
Then, they would move forward taking another city leaving behind a command tank and its 'bots as garrison. They would expand, gobbling us up like a virus.
Then, there was me. I could take out those command tanks, but there was the matter of the pain. Maybe those plasma burners and rail-guns did no lasting damage, but the pain from them wore me out. With this defense in depth the Sha'leians had adopted, I would never make it.
Maybe Kingfisher was tougher and had powers, but tests had proved I was vulnerable to baseballs, and no doubt rail-guns as well. If only there was some way I could get in fast enough to bypass all those defenses.
My flight speed was only about 200 mph. Doc's educated guess was that I pushed against gravity, falling in the direction I wanted to go. With my slick Skins and tutoring by jump masters for the correct posture, I'd learned to get the most out of it just like those wing-suit folks who could reach similar speeds.
But if I could get boosted even faster, I could zoom right by those rail-gun emplacements guarding the peaks. My flight would let me maneuver so I could fly Nap of Earth, not letting all those guns get a shot at me.
The briefing ended and everyone clustered around the map looking for a solution to the Gordian Knot of the alien defenses. I had my own plan.
“Athena,” I addressed my team leader, “I have an idea.”
“Coming up on the release point,” 'Da' Bus' informed me.
The conversation between the Air Force guys and the Special Forces Jump-Masters might've been humorous in different circumstances. The Zoomie's were trying to figure out what munition I was closest to in order to program when I should be 'jettisoned' while the Jump-Masters were working out the details for a parachute drop.
In truth, I was neither, which meant both had to kinda meet in the middle with their best guesses. There was no time to test this. The All American Division and what part of the 218th which had stubbornly stayed behind were pulling a bloody-minded, house by house defense of Asheville.
Still, a lightly armed division even with the line airborne troopers humping bull-pup .50 cal. Barretts, multi-shot 40mm grenade launchers and every anti-tank weapon they could carry, they were seriously out of their weight class. They did what American soldiers with their backs to the wall always did. They adapted, improvised and when that failed, they died fighting for their country, so their loved ones would be safe.
About the only testing we did was Halcyon holding her breath with a plastic bag over my head so I couldn't cheat. At an hour, Athena threw in the towel, but still insisted I have oxygen available to me until the very last moment.
“Affirmative,” I replied, disconnecting and securing the aux O2 hose. Grasping my harness, so my arms wouldn't flap about, I was careful not to damage the straps, “Prepared for drop.”
“Opening bay doors in five,” he began the countdown.
After being trapped in that dark, tight space, the pure shock of being swung outward on the opening doors had me mewing like a lost kitten. Snow and ice from the supposedly weakening storm pinged off my helmet like a sandblaster. With Halcyon's emerald eyes, I could see the white covered trees whipping by as I hung suspended under the jet.
“Ready for release?” 'Da' Bus' gave me one last chance to chicken out.
I heard the unsaid, 'No one would blame you if you did.'
“Just make damn certain nobody is late to the party.” How in the world I kept from stuttering is beyond me, “It's going to be awfully damn lonely out there all by myself.”
“I'll drag 'em by the ear myself if I have to,” 'Da' Bus' replied, making a promise, “In five, four, three, two, one, release.”
I dove to clear the F-35 and its airflow. 'Da' Bus' banked away hard as we neared the range of the Sha'lean rail-gun anti-aircraft umbrella. His bay doors were snapping shut to 'cloak' again with his plane's designed stealth.
The Air Force had learned the hard way who had air superiority over Asheville and it wasn't them. The Army wasn’t the only one waiting for me to wreck those command tanks. The Fly Boys were just itching for some payback, and they had plenty of Navy and Marines buddies who were ready to help them collect.
Slapping the harness release and helmet strap, both went flying away lost in the darkness. All I had on was a pair of goggles for my eyes, leaving my Skins to cover the rest
of me from head to toe. My Q-Box rode at the small of my back under my Skins, since I lacked even my new Batman belt this time. I was as aerodynamically slick as it was possible for a human body to be.
Zooming silently in the darkness, I could still see with my emerald eyes. It was both exhilarating and scarier than anything I'd ever done. I'd been dropped as fast as we dared with the worry being how quickly I could maneuver so close to the ground, at night, in a blizzard.
The first turn got cut closer than I liked causing snow to fly from the top of a tall pine. The next twist was a little better, but that was when it got interesting. I dropped down low over a river on a straight away, then another cut to the right.
A line of trees exploded into splinters, as the first guarding 'bot found me. My Skins repelled the damage, but now the clock was running. The whole time I'd been slowing. The laws of drag and aerodynamics weren't subject to the physics my Prometheus's Gift could ignore or break. At the most, I was traveling a few hundred mph, but drones were supersonic.
Keeping my posture as aerodynamically perfect as I could was my best defense. Fly baby, fly!
More tracks of destruction reached out for me, and no few were stopped by my gift from Tash. The upgraded Skins hardened and cushioned the impact of the glancing shots. The others not so much. The red hot poker sensation of being hit made me wobble drunkenly in the air, but single-minded I held my course.
The missile that hit enveloped me in burning fire, even though I knew it'd done no real damage to me. As a matter of fact, it helped as my energy absorption thing used it to slag a stream of rail-gun projectiles causing the melted rounds to splash like hot rain instead of hit like deadly hammers.
It still hurt, but my energy thing took most of the sting out of it leaving the cooling metal to fly away in the wind. I was even able to ride the shock wave rather than going out of control.
Then, the drone flew right next to me firing both plasma burners. My goggles flared as they vaporized, bathed in the inferno. A trick I learned from Doc and his sadistic tests, I willed myself to drink in the energy which helped with the pain. Then, I took an allegorical or perhaps a metaphysical mouthful was the best way to describe it.