He paused. “They have the ability to take unbelievable damage and still go on fighting, die if necessary. They’re not really Human, more a collection of body parts. The brains were wiped, of course, so in effect they’re living robots. Twice the speed and strength of a Lifer, and they have a single protocol programmed into their memory. To obey orders from RedCorp, that’s it. Tell them to jump of a cliff, or blow their own head off with a weapon, and they’ll do it. No question, no hesitation.”
Cage thought of the creature below ground. “Like Rob.”
He started. “Rob, you’ve seen him? You know he’s the prototype. After the war, they decided to cancel the program, but recently they restarted. Rob was the first.”
“I met him. The programming didn’t work out, not with him. He was sent to kill me, and something stopped him.”
“Like what?”
“Like another Human being, Colonel. But why did they need soldiers? The war was almost over. They’d beaten us.”
“They want all of it. They want Earth, and they are arming ready for it.”
He stared at him. “An invasion force?”
“Yes. Unbeatable, unstoppable, and not a drop of Martian blood would be spilled. My father, General Hartmann, helped them put their plans together, and the start of the invasion was supposed to be soon.” He glanced up at the sky where the huge, black ships had appeared, “I guess they have other problems to deal with now.”
“Yeah, I guess. So it was Hartmann behind it? Helping them plan an invasion?”
He looked away, unable to meet Cage’s eyes with his shame. “Yes. He kept his communications secret with a tracking and communications station on Earth, a place called…”
“Green Bank?”
“Yes. They planned it before the start of the Third Martian War. He made a deal with them. He set it up so he could give the Martians everything they needed. Location of every Earth defensive missile site, Orders of Battle, the locations of prominent leaders for the Janissaries to take out first. All neatly packaged, and it would have worked. A single atomic bombardment of key locations, followed up with Janissaries. Except he reckoned without you.”
His eyes narrowed, and he moved a little closer.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why they kept you alive all these years? They wanted you dead, or used as a donor for their program. It was gonna happen, too.”
“It was you?”
The man nodded.
“I didn’t know what else I could do. I’ve got no real authority here, but on this I wouldn’t back down. They left you alive, or I was off the team.”
Cage shook his head.
“So I rotted here on Mars to salve your conscience. Thanks, Joshua, you’re a real hero. What do you plan next?”
“Now? I’ll get you back to your friends. You’re in a bad state, and if you don’t get help soon, you’ll die. Which way is it?”
Cage looked down at his chest. The suit had sealed, but the wound had left blood spattered all over the outside. Before he could reply, someone said, “Drop the weapon, Colonel.”
It was Ortiz who gave the order, and Rose was behind her. They’d approached without a sound. He shrugged and put his rifle on the ground.
“Now help him up.” Ortiz’s voice was a whipcrack. Both women were armed, she with a rifle, and Rose a handgun.
He knelt down, put his arms under Cage’s, and struggled to drag him across the dust. They reached the narrow opening to the underground tunnel system, and he waited for them to give the order to lower him down. Hartmann maneuvered him through the narrow entrance, and below men waited to carry him through the narrow passages. When they reached the sick bay, Colonel Travers was inside, still a prisoner. Rob was also there, motionless, as if someone had flicked a switch, or he was waiting for orders. Hartmann placed him on the gurney, and Travers looked him over with a professional eye. He didn’t look too happy.
“It’s bad, but I guess you already know that.”
“Can you fix him?” Rose stared at him, anxious for reassurance, but she backed up her question with a leveled handgun. He took the hint.
“I’ll try. It might be a good idea to avoid getting shot next time, huh?”
“You’ll do more than try!” Ortiz snarled, brandishing her rifle to underline the words.
He frowned. “You think I would do anything less than my best work! I rebuilt this man, this Lifer.”
He gave a short smile of admiration as he placed his hands on the body of Cage.
“He’s the finest of the Lifers, the exemplar of the program. Besides, I heard what’s happening out on the surface.” He looked up to the cave roof, “Titans, they’re almost here, I believe, and about to land in strength. You’ll need every man and woman who can hold a gun to fight them off. They are like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
He finished speaking and started work on Cage. First, he cut away the material around the wound, probing for debris that would have entered when he got hit. He stopped as his patient jerked in agony.
“Do you want an anesthetic?”
“No, just do it. The Titans will take a lot of beating, and we don’t have much time.”
Hartmann was standing watching. “They’re unbeatable,” he murmured, “They’ll roll all over the Martians, and you’ll have to surrender. Either that or they’ll kill you.”
“You scared, Colonel?” Ortiz sneered.
He nodded. “Anyone who isn’t scared of them would be a fool. I’ve studied the threat from Titan as part of an ongoing defense review. We can’t beat them alone, and PanAm and the Venusians colonies are not interested in helping us in any way. Hell, they’d probably help the Titans if they could. They’re no great friends of ours.”
He let out a long sigh.
“They’re superior in every way. They have been for over a decade. There’s a single chance, and that’s the Janissaries, but they’re not ready. Only Rob,” he nodded to the silent figure in the corner of the room, “And it’ll take more than one man to stop them.”
“What’s so special about the Titans? I thought they were just miners out there?”
“The moon of Titan is a living hell. You wouldn’t believe the conditions there, and yet they live and work on the surface. The climate is the problem. There’s wind and rain, similar to Earth. There are also dunes, rivers, lakes, and seas. But that’s where the similarities end. They’re composed of liquid methane, and the atmosphere is mainly nitrogen. Then there’s the temperature, which is around one hundred and eighty degrees below zero over most of the moon. If you think of Mars is harsh, think again. It’s a holiday camp compared to Titan.”
“So why are they there?”
He grimaced. “Wealth. The Moon and Mars were the first, but the real wealth came straight from Titan. The place has hundreds of times more natural gas and other hydrocarbons than the whole of Earth. The corporations here established themselves fast and made a lot of money over time, even at the expense of thousands of lives.”
Rose groaned as she listened.
“The place was run like a forced labor camp. Eventually, they rose up, killed their guardians, and took over the place.”
Rose seemed surprised.
“I’d never heard that before.”
“Not surprising, is it?” said Hartmann, “They keep to themselves, and have done for generations. Now just the Titan trade ships make the journey from here to Titan, and it’s still a very profitable route. Ships can take years to make the return journey, but each shipment is worth more than the entire economy of Earth over a ten-year period. The Titans let ships dock at their trading stations, but never to come near their colonies.”
“So?”
The man shook his head in amusement.
“It means that the Titans started in a terrible way, a people tortured, punished, and abused by Mars for nothing more than cold hard cash. Then they cut itself off from the rest of us. There have been rumors of what they’ve been doing with all that wealth they control, bu
t they are impossible to infiltrate.”
“So it’s like Mars, an advanced technology world?” Rose interjected.
“No, not like Mars. Their technology’s better than on Earth, but they’ve spent their time building and improving their colonies and themselves. It’s the living conditions that make the difference. They survive by developing their mental strength and physical prowess to extremes. Without it, they succumb to the terrible conditions. But for those strong enough, they’re tougher and better motivated than any group you’ve ever met. Rumor has it that there are at least as many of them in the cities of Titan as there are on Mars, maybe more.”
“Except it’s not a bundle of fun living there.”
“No, it isn’t. It was inevitable they’d look toward Mars or Earth sooner or later, with a view to colonization. Probably both. We knew the day would come when we’d have to deal with the legacy of the settlers of Titan.”
They whirled as Jamison re-entered the sick bay. He glanced at Rob standing impassively close to the door. “Any problems with him?”
Ortiz shook her head. “Not so far. How’s it going up there?”
He frowned, and his face looked even more tired and lined than before. “Not good. We gave the Martians a good licking, but we didn’t beat them. Maybe we could have, with luck and enough time, but now the Titans are here. I thought it couldn’t be worse, and yet it is.” He looked at Joshua Hartmann. “You’re saying they can’t be beaten!”
“All we had is the Janissary program, a true standing army of elite professionals. I helped kill your unit, Cage. But at least I could put Rob to use as a soldier again, and I could keep you from joining him. I can’t tell you the trouble it took to keep that quiet.”
Cage laughed.
“Like I said, Hartmann, you are a real hero.”
Joshua winced, though he didn’t argue the point.
“These aren’t the soldiers from the five corporations, or the corporate militias. They are paid-for stooges who will run if pushed hard. The program was the sole possibility of containing them to the outer planets. The Janissaries may have stood a chance against the Titans. Otherwise no. And the program isn’t complete. It’s barely even begun.”
“You reckon these Titans are supermen?”
Hartmann frowned. “Not the way you mean it. They’re a hard society, and they see their lives as one of toil and strife. They need to be, to combat the terrible climate on Titan, and the dangers they face. The mortality rate of the early colonists was seventy percent in the first year.”
“What?” Rose exclaimed.
“I kid you not. Martian corporations sent in thousands in the first few decades, just like happened with the old penal colonies on Earth. They’re a hard people, trained to fight the conditions on their own planet, and they remember what Mars did to them. We sent ships to negotiate five years ago, and they were destroyed without a word.”
He licked his lips.
“Earth has its tough soldiers, like the Lifers,” he nodded toward Cage, whose left leg was exposed, revealing a forest of cables and motors, “Mars has its technology. Titan has hardness, a tough breed of people with a burning, almost fanatical zeal to fight and survive. Shoot ninety-nine of them and the hundredth will still strike back. That is the foe.”
“We’ll fight them,” Jamison said grimly, “We’ll do what’s necessary, and no matter how long it takes, we’ll beat them. Mars is not theirs.”
“I hope you win,” Hartmann said, “Although I know you won’t.”
He looked again at Cage. “Lieutenant, once more, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Criminally wrong, and I deserve everything I get. Maybe I should have just let you all to die first time around.”
Cage looked up from where he lay on the table. “Or you could have just not called in the strike.”
He then shook his head, a grim expression forming on his face.
“That’s all history now, but maybe you can still make amends, Colonel. We’ll need soldiers for what’s about to hit us. We didn’t do this to the Titans, but we’ll sure as hell hit them hard if they come to our homes.”
“Yes, you will, but I won’t be here.”
“You won’t be here,” Jamison almost yelled, drawing his weapon, “You think you can escape?”
“No. A word of advice, keep your head down. While I’m here, you have a chance. They won’t want me killed.”
“That could be useful, but you’re still not going anywhere, Colonel Hartmann.”
“I think I am. I deserve this, and I should have done it a long time ago.”
He turned to the silent, brooding figure of the cybernetic soldier they called Rob.
“Rob. Listen to Rose. You’ll remember her, I’m sure. Listen to her voice. When you hear it, think of me.”
“Affirmative, Colonel. Orders?”
The man smiled grimly, took a long, slow breath, and then straightened his uniform.
“Protect her, no matter the cost.”
He smiled at Rose and Cage before turning back to the creature.
“Now…kill me.”
It was over in a split second. The creature drew, aimed, and fired a single shot. Hartmann collapsed to the floor, his head a smoking ruin where the round had impacted the exact center, between the eyes. Rob returned to his impassive state, the gun tucked back into his belt holster. No one said anything, not at first. A man rushed into the room, but Jamison glanced at the impassive Rob and sent him away. If there were a problem, a single man wouldn’t help. He gazed at the body, and the limbs were still twitching.
“He didn’t have to do that. Stupid bastard.”
“Yes, he did,” Cage said, “At the end, he killed his own wife to save me. He couldn’t live with so many deaths on his conscience. He made a mistake, and kept on making them to make up for the first.”
“Jesus Christ.” Jamison looked around the room again, as if to reassure him no further suicide attempts were about to take place. He shook his head again, “I’ll get someone to take care of the body. Jesus Christ. Ortiz, come with me. We have work to do.”
He left the room, and Rose watched Travers continue his work. “Will he be okay?”
“For now, yes. I think. But if he sustains any more injuries, I can’t guarantee he’ll hold together.”
Cage said, “Colonel, the Titans, is there any way we can use the Janissaries to fight them? Can you finish what you started?”
He stopped working and was thoughtful for a few moments. “Well, er, not really, it’s not practicable. They are far from complete.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
He was silent for long moments. Then the hint of a smile creased his lips. “There may be a way.”
* * *
They were anonymous behind obscured face shields, the crude, heavy armor making them appear like huge, devouring predators. Creatures from a nightmare, yet this was real. They’d come to savage, to wound, to kill, to punish Mars for its ancient crimes and its future ambitions. The Titans walked into battle with their massed rotary guns held low at the hip. They were old tech, little different to the weapons used by the Lifers, but capable of sending out a storm of bullets through the thin atmosphere. Laszlo shouted orders, sent men into the raging storm, and when they were dead, sent more men to climb over their bodies and fight on. Yet the tide of black armored soldiers advanced on, ignoring casualties as though nothing more than insect bites.
Laszlo realized early on they were up against something more powerful than they ever envisaged. Raging at the heavy losses they were taking, he sent company after company of corporate soldiers into the unequal battle. Yet his men were pushed back, retreating each time over a field of corpses. Both sides took losses, but his men were terrified, unable to stand against an enemy that ignored wounds, or even the death of their comrades. He watched in astonishment, as a dozen RedCorp soldiers cut down twice their number of Titans in a well-executed ambush, only for four of the survivors to stagger from the smoke and hurl them
selves into hand-to-hand combat. Knives and maces swung, with one even lifting a screaming soldier in the air and hurling him into his comrades. They were monsters, and the effect on his people was incredible. Unit after unit fell back, with some throwing down their weapons and fleeing.
“He shouted at the air controller, a captain, “Send in more gunships! Tell ‘em to get in close this time. They won’t do any good shooting from a kilometer above the surface. Damned cowards! I want close air support, close!”
The man hesitated. “Sir, they can’t get in low. The Titan air defenses are overwhelming! We brought down three of their transports before they were able to deploy missile batteries around the landing zone. Now they’re launching clusters of missiles like nothing we’ve seen before.”
The man panted, and his next few words were drowned out by the sound of shells exploding in the background. When he returned, his voice croaked with nervousness.
“Direct. We lost seven gunships trying to get near the landing grounds, and if we keep going, they’ll wipe out our entire air defenses. We have to abandon the open ground and withdraw to the cities.”
“I don’t give a shit about the gunships!” He stopped to wipe the phlegm off his face, “We are here to defend the cities and our people. Now get every dammed soldier and aircraft out there and fight. I will not leave the landing grounds uncontested.”
The man tried to speak, but Laszlo drowned him out in a rage-filled rant.
“They’re cowards. We’re fighting for our survival here, and if they don’t stop them, they’ll be here inside of a couple of days, maybe hours. Captain, do you want a Titan living in that comfortable little house you share with your girlfriend? You want him sleeping in your bed?”
“No, Sir!”
“Right. Send them in, and this time they go in close. I want them hugging the contours of the ground. Ram their transports if we have to. Not one step back, Captain. The cities are ours!”
“But, Sir, they tried…”
“Do it!”
“Yes, Sir.”
Last Life (Lifers Book 1) Page 29