The Return of the Grey

by Robert Lee Henry

  ‘That’s a brave stance for a one-legged man, Captain,’ said Seca dryly. ‘Could we stop this nonsense and get on to assigning squads. I’d like to take Penter and Tory from of my old squad, if I could, and draw the rest from this group. We have a lot of good people coming back. I promised Aesca I would look after them.’

  ‘Sorry Seca, no squad for you,’ said Chalkley. ‘You are a sergeant now. You will have ten squads to look after. Have your buddies take your gear and stow it. You join Sergeant Tollen and myself, and stay for this meeting. All our other sergeants are up on the line.’

  A stocky figure in the light grey of Supply came around the marines carrying a small wooden case. Elsewise followed him back to the Armourer and the Greys. These three were sitting on the benches in front of the command hut with Bethane of the Amazons. A number of Rangers who had watched the marine display were also coming across. Impromptu perhaps, but it does appear as though a meeting is imminent, thought Elsewise.

  The Armourer’s concentration was elsewhere. The light clink of glass could be heard from the case in the supplyman’s arms, sounding with each step. The Armourer patted the wood when it was set down, turning his head to smile smugly at Steamsetter. The big serviceman’s long face sank. Elsewise wondered at the bond between these two. Aide, or keeper, or friend? All of those, he suspected, balancing a commander and a wayward charge … and again a friend. It came to him that the Armourer’s brilliance had allowed the battles to be won, but it was the big serviceman’s devotion that had seeded the confidence that grew in the people around these two to win them.

  Both the Armourer and Steamsetter laughed when the case was opened and a jar lifted out. Peppers. Pickled hot peppers. The Armourer caught the supplyman’s shoulder and shook it. ‘The best present that could possibly be brought at this time,’ he said through his laughter. ‘How did you know, Commander?’

  Commander Johnson blushed and smiled. ‘We know you like peppers and we came across some of the best Pecketts so here they are.’ The solid man looked past the Armourer to Steamsetter. ‘Sorry, Steamsetter. We asked, but no one knew of anything special you might like.’

  ‘The peppers will do fine for me too. You don’t know how well,’ said the big man.

  ‘How is it that Base Command allowed you to come to the Rim?’ asked the Armourer, a pepper already in his hand.

  ‘Supply runs itself. All the systems are in place and we have many capable people,’ said Johnson. ‘It doesn’t really matter where I am.’ The solid man hesitated for a moment then continued. ‘I have brought more people with me, both Supply and Service, but they come as replacements. The ones that have served here will have to be sent back. It may make us seem less than the marines but it has to be. The Specialist says that we have to have some personnel return whole from the Rim or the Guard will begin to fear this place.’

  ‘What does she mean ‘begin’,’ snorted Tollen. ‘Not a bad idea though. I have kept this lot alive for the Commander. It will be good to send them back that way.’ The stocky marine turned to the even solider Johnson. ‘Sorry, but I will have to keep a few. It will take some time to train the newcomers up.’

  ‘Not so long as you might think,’ said Johnson. ‘The Commander, himself, trained us on the plain of Base. Ran us ragged. Look!’ He held out the front of his shirt to show how much weight he had lost. He appeared as stout as ever to Elsewise, and to the others it seemed from their smiles.

  ‘Why, he has run you to a whisp,’ said Tollen.

  ‘That’s not all,’ said Johnson, missing the irony in his excitement. ‘We are weapon trained as well, special weapons just for this duty.’ He waved to a nearby group of supplymen and pointed. One ran up with a weapon.

  ‘A cartridge rifle,’ said the Armourer with interest.

  ‘A carbine, he called it. Simple to use. Cock, aim and fire. Explosives propel a metal slug. It is as big as the opening. Look.’ Both the Armourer and Tollen ducked out of the way as the barrel swung up.

  ‘Commander Quartermaine thought of these for us on the Rim when he heard one had knocked down Commander La Mar on the Ag planet. In a suit, and you know how good she is in a suit.’ The stocky man glanced to Trahern for confirmation on this last point.

  ‘Well now,’ Tollen drawled to the Armourer. ‘Maybe you should put us out the front and put the marines in behind.’

  ‘It would probably be safer for everyone that way,’ agreed the Armourer.

  The joking brought Nata to Elsewise’s mind again. Strange, how much I have come to depend upon his company, thought Elsewise. A scholar’s life was usually solitary. And his advice, he admitted ruefully. It is late in life to come to the realisation that knowledge and wisdom can be so separate, a teaching of the ancients that I have only truly learned from my friend. He thought back to their conversation when he had voiced his intention to go to the Rim.

  ‘I would have expected someone with a lifelong study of the Ships to have wished to be as close to them as possible, to observe their interactions in the situations that arise, especially those choreographed by the selfsame scholar, regardless of the risk,’ offered Nata.

  The risk was related to putting himself at Colda’s mercy. No, wrong choice of words for that person. ‘In his power’, would be more correct. A risk that would not have stopped Elsewise in the past and that did not stop him now. The real reason was more threatening than that. He had tried to cover it with a joke. ‘My observations over the past weeks indicate that your technique of proceeding in a direction exactly opposite to that deduced from logical expectation is highly successful and worthy of adoption in the present circumstances.’

  ‘Bumfluff!’ snorted Nata. ‘You have found a new path and now you go down it. Best you admit this to yourself and prepare for the changes that will arise.’

  As clear and concise as that, with none of the doubt and guilt that assailed Elsewise, and no sentimentality either. His lifelong study should have taken him along with PlanCon out into the Gap Quadrant, to finally view the Ships, perhaps to assist with the first constructive contact between humankind and the mysterious beings. Yet he had abandoned that possibility, choosing to journey to the Rim instead. That was the crux of it, not the destination, the action of determination.

  His study had been assigned to him in his early maturity. The necessities of its progression had then determined his movements and interactions, his life. Choices were limited to methodologies to be employed and timing. He had lived within these bounds for decades. Now he chose to pass beyond them. To gather the knowledge he felt to be important and to act on it. A transgression of the strictures placed on his breed by the Inner Belt, this act placed him in rebellion. It also likely infringed upon inbuilt genetic safeguards. The realisation that the most immediate threat to his well being came from within himself was novel and disquieting.

  ‘Now you know how the rest of us feel,’ stated one of the Rangers.

  This strangely apt comment brought Elsewise out of his contemplation.

  ‘None of us will leave,’ continued the cadreman. ‘The Rangers will stay to the end, whenever or whatever that is.’

  Elsewise realised that the meeting was underway, and at a point of contention.

  ‘Quartermaine sent the Greys and Amazons as your replacements. The Rangers are down to one third of their strength,’ said the Armourer. He stared at the defiant cadreman. ‘If you stay it may mean the end of your cadre. That means something to the old man. He would not have that on his head. You know I am not that sentimental. Neither is Trahern.’ The Armourer let these words hang in the air.

  Command of the aircraft would be with the Grey. That should remove any bravado, thought Elsewise.

  The Ranger stood his ground silently.

  ‘Commander Trahern?’ inquired the Armourer.

  ‘It is best if they stay. They are survivors. We need their knowledge and techniques,’ answered the Grey.

  Another Ranger ran up, in flight gear. He went straight to the Armourer bu
t stopped self-consciously when he noticed the new faces and the tension around him.

  ‘Thorsen has just volunteered the Rangers for another stint,’ said the Armourer in the way of an explanation.

  ‘Yah, whatever. Why not?’ said the Ranger. Followed by ‘Oh Fuck!’ when he recognised Trahern.

  ‘Never mind,’ ordered the Armourer. ‘What do you have to report?’

  ‘Not a lot. Nothing moving in the western low but one of yours, Captain,’ said the Ranger turning to the one-legged marine. ‘Way up near the north end. Peg. We think.’

  ‘You sure? He is meant to be on his way back here,’ said Chalkley.

  ‘One man on his own, no suit, running like he didn’t have a care in the world. He waved to us too, but didn’t stop.’

  ‘That sounds like Peg. What the hell is he doing up there?’ asked Tollen.

  ‘That is the route Mancine’s unit traveled. Maybe he is following them,’ said the Armourer.

  ‘He is getting a bit strange,’ said Chalkley.

  ‘Getting!’ snapped Tollen. ‘Now there is one that should be sent back. If you don’t grab him next time he comes in, I will.’ The old sergeant rubbed his grizzled head. He caught Trahern’s questioning glance. ‘He makes you look normal. It will take more than a stun and some whispering in his ear to sort him out.’

  Elsewise was amazed at the marine’s ability to reduce an incredibly complex occurrence to a characteristicaly physical minimum. The other people around the bench seemed to be taken back by the shear boldness of the sergeant. Not many people dared stand close to the Grey, let alone talk to him like that. Even the Amazon commander, Bethane, who had trained and fought with him, kept her distance.

  ‘Enough of the ones and twos,’ said the Armourer taking charge. ‘We have been static too long. It is time to move. The Sergeants will be ordered to bring in the eastern group, quickly, south then in along this low. Spence’s lot will fall back slowly through the centre. If that draws the enemy on, well and good. We can catch them in this corner as planned. If not, then we all move into the western low. Our air cover will protect us until we work out the enemy’s next move. If they have gotten by Mancine they may be on the far side. The worry there is that they may have been able to establish an anti-aircraft capability. Captain, get some scouts out into that ground, staggered patrols. I need some quick news. Trahern, fly the edge with caution.’

  The Armourer rose and started to pace. His words, when they continued, were more for himself than his audience. ‘I don’t know where the enemy is and I don’t know the ground to the northwest. That is perilous. The collision would have made new ground. And the sky is low there. These are advantages for the enemy. They will make use of them. Count on it. They already know the lay of the land from their predictions. The northwest. I hope that is where Mancine is. He would understand how critical knowledge of that ground will be for us. It already figures in the enemy’s plans. Damn their foreknowledge!’

  Elsewise took another step down his new path. ‘The situation you face now can not be altered but that advantage could be curtailed in the future, possibly eliminated.’

  ‘We do not know where their command is located, nor how this information is stored. A strike to eliminate it is not possible,’ said the Armourer.

  At least he has considered the problem, thought Elsewise. Though not in simple enough terms. ‘Their predictions arise from a complex study of considerable duration, a study that is continuing. The interaction of masses, fields and momentum needs to be constantly monitored to test the model and extend the predictive capability. Destroy the sensors and the accuracy of the predictions will decrease.’

  ‘Where would the sensors be? Available to us?’ asked the Armourer. ‘Otherwise it is the same problem.’

  ‘They have to be near the edge of the Rim, to pass data,’ cut in Trahern. ‘Even if they are using probes, these will have to transmit to relays or come far enough out themselves to get clear of the densest fields.’

  ‘If we destroy them, how long till it takes effect?’ The Armourer asked of Elsewise.

  ‘Weeks for fine detail, maybe months for the overall predictions to fail,’ answered the Scholar.

  ‘I don’t feel that we have that much time,’ said the Armourer. ‘But then again, I thought this would be all over before now.’ The Armourer walked and talked, voicing his thoughts. ‘With the Rangers staying, we should have enough craft. Anything that discomforts the enemy will be a help. Trahern?’

  The Grey turned to Thorsen in answer. ‘I want the Rangers to double up with the Amazons, two to a craft. Show them what you do and how you have stayed alive. Once they are settled, Commander Bethane will take charge of the atmosphere work. The Rangers will then join the Greys on the outside and take out the sensors. That starts now. Gati and I will go up straight away.’

  ‘I would accompany you,’ said Elsewise. His investigation would be greatly aided by further study of the Rim components.

  The Grey nodded, his eyes still on Thorsen. ‘Ranger, you seem to be a brave man.’

  These words halted the others who had started to move off to their tasks.

  Is he going to upbraid the man for his stubbornness? Belabour some point of order to establish his control? Elsewise had not observed Trahern in a command role. He watched with more than curiosity.

  ‘Pass the orders along to your cadre then return. You get to go up with Gati. I’ll take the Scholar,’ said Trahern.

  Gati beamed a smile to the confused Ranger. Bethane caught Thorsen’s arm as they walked away and lent her head in close to his. Elsewise’s hearing picked up her low words.

  ‘He takes too many risks. You will have to be careful. Restrain him when you can.’

  CHAPTER 57: THE LAST EAGLE

  Kayrooz could not move. He was lying on his back, half out of his suit. It had become light again and he could see part of the ridge beside him and the sky. The sky had all of his attention. It twisted and bulged and tore away above him. He searched the turmoil for their faces. He was sure that they were there, looking down on him, laughing. The Gods of the Rim were teaching him their last lesson. That man was no better than the creatures that crawled beneath their rocks, maybe worse, following volition rather than instinctual imperatives.

  His earlier blasphemy had been revisited. To say that man was better than these cruel gods. A vain utterance of disrespect. They had shown him his error in the cruellest way possible, and then left him alive, for a while, to consider his impudence.

  The group had stopped to rest early into a period of darkness. About a hundred men in all, his own people, what was left of the once proud Red Eagles, and the Black Hands. He had no delusions that the later followed his command. Their association was one of expediency.

  He had called the halt on the floor of a wide valley close to the edge of the plain. The valley narrowed to the west but ran straight as far as the eye could see in the last dim light. It would be as good a route as any for the marine wounded if they were coming. He had seen the sense in the Black Hands’ request and understood their fears. They had a well-earned poor reputation in matters of trust and would expect others to treat them the same. Kayrooz had no doubts as to the honesty of the big marine’s offer. All his doubts were kept for himself.

  The men had set out mini-sensors on the perimetre. Each man carried one of these small tubes in the boot of his suit. Activated, the tubes gave out a mild blue light that would intensify if something moved into its field. The sensors also set up a weak stun. Enough to discourage most of the smaller denizens of the Rim. The blue glow was comforting in the dark and he noted that several tubes had been placed within the group as well.

  He could not sleep, troubled as he was, so he had settled outside the perimetre on a low rock shelf at the base of the ridge. Images from the pass haunted him. Even open-eyed, he saw them; the dull reddish rock of the Rim painted scarlet, bits of suits standing out because of their lesser hue. The pale blue grey of intestine and the whit
e of bone the only other colours, except for great scorches of black that glittered with fused silica. Parts of bodies were recognisable. Arms, legs, bone, muscle, viscera, fragments of ribs, faces. Blended into the surface, like the walls of hell. He had not been able to walk through the pass. The devastation defeated him. He knew that if he saw it all he would never be able to fight again. And what was an Eagle that couldn’t fight?

  Kayrooz had been proud when fifty of his men answered his call to charge the cannons. Now he doubted that he would be able to lead such an action again … or to join one. Worse, he knew these doubts would show in his eyes. Soon he would not be able to command. He looked out over the forms of his sleeping men, just visible in the blue glow. Get these men safe, off the Rim, that’s all. No dishonour clings to them. The order to surrender was mine. They can return to the Dawn Planets, to their families.

  He thought of his home planet. Perhaps the most beautiful of the Dawn Planets. Green hills and white sandy shores and the aquamarine of the abundant waters. So different to the starkness of this Rim. His family’s holdings covered three islands. In the evenings, the older men would gather at his grandfather’s house and drink to the end of the day as the setting sun painted the low waves red. He never saw doubt in those old eyes.

  Kayrooz took his short dagger from his belt and worked the tip under the embossed plate on the chest of his suit. He no longer deserved to wear the Eagle. He sensed movement and looked up in time to see the waves of his home break over his men. Low grey waves with a black froth in the dull blue light. He blinked and sense came accompanied by horror. The Black Hands were on his men, killing them in their sleep! He rose only to feel a drag at the back of his suit and a sharp pain in his neck. He thrust back with his dagger, hit something and penetrated, then felt no more. The sky swung above him as he went down.

  His head shook as his helm and chest plate were removed but he could not feel his body. Bley! Kayrooz recognised the Black Hand bent over him.