Retribution (Shaitan Wars)

by Sudipto Majumdar

  “It is no good if you reach the end, and you are delirious from the run Jata. You more than anyone else will need to keep a clear head when you reach there. Are you sure you will be able to do it with a clear head?” Lt. Odoyo asked dubious.

  Jata dared just say “Yes Sir”, for her voice was cracking.

  “Alright then, go ahead Sgt. Awiti. I will have a medic monitoring you carefully all the time. The first sign of trouble, and you ride the Mule.” Lt. Odoyo said and let it go.

  It is said that a long distance runner reaches a state of a ‘runner’s high’ after some distance. All runners experience it, but it is never the same for two people, just like the ‘high’ from alcohol is not the same for two people. It is a ‘high’ feeling because the brain releases endorphins to numb the nerves and suppress the feeling of pain in the muscles as every last bit of glycogen is drained from the muscles. Just as in the case of booze, endorphins released in a ‘runner’s high’ cause a certain sense of euphoria.

  Tuwile was just about starting to feel that sensation of euphoria now. Being an experienced runner he knew what that meant. His muscles had used up all its stored energy. From here on, his muscles were going to operate strictly on the amount of energy that could be generated on the go by breathing oxygen and converting body sugars into energy. He was sure that the other 11 members of the group were also reaching a similar stage.

  That also meant that from here on, the group had very little leeway to pick up their pace. From here on, the best that the human body could hope for was to maintain the pace, although even that could not be held for too long. Even for the best of runners, things will start slowing down eventually. Tuwile checked the lead Shaitans inside his head schematics. They were not catching up with the Shaitans fast enough.

  At this rate, the Shaitans would beat them to the exit, and the 12 humans had no more hidden reserves to pick up the pace. There were other insidious dangers of the runner’s high. The endorphins keep suppressing the pain more aggressively by numbing the nerves, until the runner became less aware of the injuries being caused to him, like torn ligaments, until the runner collapses catastrophically.

  Human beings had evolved this adaptation for suppression of pain by ‘runner’s high’, for survival in the plains of Africa, as a means of survival. It enabled the early Homo sapiens to run down a prey in persistence hunting by tiring the prey animal, which did not have the same adaptation. It was meant to be used sparingly and only in survival situations. Tuwile smiled to himself as he thought about it. This was very much a survival situation, just a lot different than any of his ancestors would have envisaged.

  Tuwile and his group were well past the halfway mark now, having run close to 55 Km. It was 12 Km more than a full marathon. The danger to the body however was not from the extra distance run. Human body could take that extra distance, especially in this lower gravity. The danger and the tiredness came from the speed at which Tuwile and his group had run. They were not just keeping pace with the Shaitans, but had to run faster than them in order to overtake them, and the Shaitans ran fast.

  The amazing thing about the Shaitan run had been their pace. They had kept the same pace all through their run so far. The bastards had incredible stamina and energy reserves. It was a known fact, but Tuwile wondered how long that energy reserves last for the Shaitans, because in the end this race was a test of the energy reserves of the two species.

  Tuwile doubted that any of the scientists had taken a Shaitan prisoner and run it for hours on a treadmill to test its limits of endurance. However the Shaitans were biological beings, just like humans, and thus had to have a limit to their endurance and energy reserves, just like humans. The question to ask was this – was that limit more or less in terms of running distance vis-à-vis humans. The answer to that question will determine whether Tuwile and his mates lived or died.

  Sgt. Omondi felt as if a vein in his temple is about to burst. He was tough and fit as Marine sergeants came, but he was being tested because of the weight he was carrying. He had lightened the load of the first Mule enough that he was confident that the Mule was catching up with the Tuwile group, and should reach the exit almost along with them. Definitely not later than 3 minutes after them.

  He had shifted the excess weight into four other Mules, but these overloaded Mules had started slowing down so drastically that they would reach too far behind the running Marine to supply them with their armor and weapons. When he lightened the second Mule enough to reach the exit 10 minutes behind the first one, the additional weight on the four remaining Mules was just too much. They literally started crawling.

  As a result, other than the lead group, which had now split into two, all Marines were carrying their weapons and ammo clip. That weighed about 10 Kg. on Earth and about 4 Kg. here on Jehannum. It was not such a serious burden to the Marines, but lightened the four Mules a lot. Unfortunately it had not been enough. They needed to take off some more weight if the Mules had a chance to reach in time to deliver the Marine’s armor in the coming battle.

  So Sgt. Omondi had shifted all the suit armors into 3 Mules, and pretty much everything else those three Mules were carrying into the last Mule. Let the last Mule crawl and reach at its own pace. That way the Marines would have their armor, weapons and some basic ammo resupply to begin the fight. The 3 Mules carrying the suit armors had speeded up, but not enough so he had made the 10 of the strongest Marines in the laggard group wear their suits.

  To set an example he had worn his own armor as well. The Laggards group didn’t have a chance to get into the fight quickly in any case, their sacrifice will enable the rest to get into the fight quickly. It shouldn’t make that much of a difference if the laggard group joined the fight 10-15 minutes later than when they were going to reach in any case. The suit, weapons and ammo altogether weighed 130 Kg. on Earth. Sgt. Omondi himself weighed 70Kg. on Earth.

  So now he was carrying a total of 200 Kg. Earth weight, which felt like 80Kg. here on Jehannum. The sergeant and the other Marines wearing their suits, no longer had any low gravity advantage in this run. In fact all of them were carrying 10 Kg. extra on an average. They still had nearly 50 Km to cover. It was as if they had started another fresh Earth Marathon, after having done 50 Km of low gravity marathon. It was taking a toll on each and every one of those 10 Marines.

  Sgt. Jata Awiti was blinking constantly. She wanted to be sure that her eyes weren’t playing tricks. She had been seeing ghostly images for some time now and she wanted to be sure that what she was seeing was not a ghost image again. Her act of blinking would not have helped in anyway, because the images she was seeing were not through her eyes. They were being fed directly to her brain.

  In this pitch darkness there was nothing that the human eyes could have seen. The blinking of the eyes were just a reflex action. The ghosts she had been seeing running next to her, and all around her were just her fatigued body playing tricks with her mind. In fact she had been running alone for almost 25 minutes, ever since she broke ahead of the middle group. Sgt. Awiti was perilously close to the endorphins in her brains putting her into a state of delirium.

  She had pushed her body to an extent that even she herself had not believed in her heart of hearts that she could do. Lt. Odoyo definitely did not believe that she could do it. She knew that because she could track the second Mule, meant to supply the second group. It was running right behind her. She knew that Lt. Odoyo had instructed the Mule to track right behind her, and pick her up to ‘ride the Mule’ the moment she collapsed. She was not going to let that happen.

  What Sgt. Awiti was seeing now was not ghosts. They were the IR signatures of her fellow Marines from the second group running 10 minutes behind the Tuwile group. She had made it! She had caught up with the fastest of the male runners, well second fastest, but good enough. Now all she had to do was to keep pace with them for the last 20 odd kilometers that remained in the race. It would be easier said than done. She had no reserves left after the spurt.
She was running only on the energy of her stubbornness.

  “Not going to make it… Oh god! We are not going to make it!” Tuwile heard someone from his group cry. He was actually crying, Tuwile could make that out from the voice. Tuwile wished he could say something to cheer the crying Marine, who had put everything including his heart into the run, and yet they had all come up short. The reality was that there was nothing that could be said to cheer anyone up. The reality was as stark as it was gloomy.

  They were just 9 km from the exit as shown by the schematics. The Shaitans were more than two kilometers ahead of them, and increasing the gap again now. The Shaitans hadn’t increased their speed. The bastards had kept the same constant speed all through their run. It was the humans who were slowing down. Despite all of their efforts, they could not stop themselves from slowly, imperceptibly slowing down.

  Their will may be strong, but the human flesh was still weak. Despite their resolve, Tuwile and his friends’ bodies were slowly weakening. Very soon the body would prepare to shut down, and there was nothing any of them could do anything about it. Tears started forming in the eyes of Tuwile, despite himself. He didn’t bother to wipe them. He didn’t care any longer. He had failed.

  He knew the death he was going to suffer, he did not care too much about it. What made him cry was the fact that he had dragged eleven of his friends along with him to the same fate. He had failed his brothers. He let himself slip into despondency and delirium, when he was startled by the sound of “Shut up” shouted by someone.

  “Look at the schematics! The Shaitans are slowing! By god they are slowing down!” Tuwile heard one of his fellow Marines from the group shout.

  Tuwile jerked out of his blues and check his own schematics. He had to give the credit to Chilemba, who had noticed it, for it was almost imperceptible, but true. Pvt. Chilemba Michieka had kept his wits about when all of them were losing it. Tuwile admonished himself for not being tough, and thanked Chilemba silently. The gap was no longer growing, and if one concentrated on the figure for many seconds, then one could see a meter or two decrease in the gap!

  Hope is an amazing thing. It makes humans do things that are not thought humanly possible. In the case of Tuwile it made him find energy reserves in his body, when there should have been none. He was able to give his steps a slight extra boost and started getting ahead of his group. He chanted just one word as he ran ahead. Very soon the rest of his 11 mates had picked up their speed to catch up with him chanting the same word – “Believe… Believe… Believe.”

  It would take another year in the campaign of Alpha Shaitan, before the scientists got round to testing the limits of endurance of the Shaitans. They would realize that just like humans, the Shaitan muscles and body could be trained for higher level of performance. A well trained Shaitan could run continuously on Jehannum at a great speed for many hundreds of kilometers without slowing down.

  However, just like the Shaitans didn’t have tanks, armored personnel carriers, etc. on Jehannum because they didn’t have any wars between themselves. The same way, the Shaitans had never trained for running, because they didn’t have the concept of sporting competition. Once again, the fierce human competitive nature, even amongst its own kind, gave the human species an advantage.

  The Shaitans running did not know what was happening or why it was happening. Most did not even realize that they were slowing down. They had never had any reason to run continuously for so long to test their limits of endurance, so they didn’t know that they were reaching close to that limit. Some were confused when they started falling behind, and their limbs would not obey their mental command to run faster to keep up with the rest.

  The turn of events had not been lost on Lt. Odoyo either. He had been monitoring the situation with increasing amount of despondency all this while. He had been growing increasingly convinced that he had made the wrong command decision. He may have already doomed the 6th company. He was about to halt the march and order the Marines to retreat back to their entry point and wait extraction, when the Shaitans started slowing down. Now the Marines had a fighting chance.

  He was worried about the person the Marines need the most at that moment. He decided to stop indulging her need for self-validation. Sgt. Awiti could fight her demons some other time. Right now her brother Marines needed her expertise more than she needed her self-esteem. He connected to Sgt. Jata Awiti. “Jata. Listen to me carefully. I am not yet giving you a direct order, but I will if I have to, so please don’t make me do this.

  If there was anything to be proven, you have more than proved it to every Marine running out here. If there is anything still left that you have to prove to yourself, I am afraid that will have to wait for another day. Today your brother marines need you more than any of your personal needs. Are you with me Jata?” Lt. Odoyo asked.

  “Yes sir. Loud and clear.” Sgt. Awiti said in an extremely strained voice.

  “Good. You will stop immediately and try to gather yourself. The spiders have already reached the mouth of the tunnel. I am not sure whether you have studied the entrances of both the tunnels. If you haven’t do it now. We need you to shut down GC-2 as fast as possible before the Shaitans have a chance to come out. You got that Jata? Talk to me, I can barely hear your voice, it is sounding very weak.” Lt. Odoyo asked in a concerned voice.

  “Yes sir. I understand sir. I am sorry, I was being selfish. I have stopped now. Just give me a minute’s recovery time sir, and I will be back to 100%.” Lt. Odoyo heard Sgt. Awiti say in a voice that gave him no comfort about her state.

  “Good. Sgt. Awiti, because one minute is all you are going to get. I want you to get on to the second Mule that is catching up fast with you. You will have about 10 minutes to study the images from the spiders and plan your plants. The nitros and the C-2s are also loaded on the second Mule you would be riding, so you will have everything you need.

  You will have to do this under fire, so for god’s sake remember to put on your armor first. It is also in the Mule. Tuwile and the boys will give you cover fire, but do not expect any help in planting. Trust me they will be more than busy trying to keep the Shaitans bottled in, so you will have to plant alone. All the best sergeant.” Lt. Odoyo finished.

  The 12 lead Marines had taken control of the Predators and the Boas. All drones had some amount of autonomous capacity, but were most effective when human beings operated them. That has always been the case for over a hundred years since humans have been operating drones in wars. For the first 3 minutes, the naked Marines would have nothing in terms of protection or weapons other than those drones.

  Even while Tuwile was running the last 500 meters, he had ordered his predator to position itself at wherever it calculated as the best firing spot. His weary body and his adrenalin and endorphin addled mind could not focus properly on anything right now. He would need a few minutes to start thinking clearly. It was best to use the limited brain of the drone till then. The other 11 Marines had done the same.

  It was a popular misconception in history that Tuwile had actually beaten the Shaitans to the exit in the Marathon. It was not true. Three Shaitans had actually made it out of GC-2 a few hundred meters before Tuwile. Technically the Shaitans had still won the Marathon. This despite the fact, as later enthusiasts would measure, GC-2 was almost 600 meters longer in length from the point the Shaitans had started than the humans.

  The Three winning Shaitans did not live long to tell the tale. The poor bastards were shredded by bullets from 6 predators as they emerged from the GC-2 tunnel. The three Shaitans were dead even before they could scream out their ultrasonic scream of surprise. Tuwile and his mates controlling the predators had made sure of that.

  The predators had been set up in sentry mode aimed at the mouth of GC-2. That was all the controlling the exhausted marines could do for the moment. The predators would waste a lot of bullets with their overkill, but their motion and IR sensors would ensure that anything moving out of that mouth of GC-2 woul
d meet with a huge volume of fire.

  It was better to waste some bullets than let even a single Shaitan emerge GC-2 and harm one of the predators. The drones were too precious right now. For such a lethal drone, the predators were surprisingly delicate. Any Shaitan could destroy it with their bare limbs if they could get close to the predators.

  Tuwile emerged from the mouth of GC-1 about 30 seconds after the predators had fired. No other Shaitan had emerged from GC-2 after the first three, so Tuwile and his mates had beaten the rest of the Shaitans in the Marathon race! Tuwile did not stop running on exiting GC-1. He had to run another 150 meters before he could rest.

  Just as he was about to reach his destination, the predators fired again. The next lot of Shaitans had reached the mouth of GC-2. This lot of Shaitans were prepared. Tuwile heard the continuous loud booming sound of Shaitan automatic gun fire. It was more appropriate to call it ‘automatic cannon fire’. All Tuwile could do was dive for cover and curse the gravity for taking him to the ground so slowly.

  He had curled into a ball while diving, in a technique taught to all young space Marines. It must have been a technique invented by some old, long dead Marine at the beginning of the space age, but one that all Marines quickly learnt if they wanted to survive in a low gravity planet.

  Tuwile suddenly became acutely aware of his relative nakedness. Without armor, a single large caliber Shaitan bullet would literally cut him into two pieces. Fortunately the Shaitans were not very accurate with bullets, and in this atmosphere they could not use their more accurate plasma fire effectively.

  As Tuwile came to rest inside an engineered dry ditch that must have been part of the Shaitans elaborate water management engineering, he struggled to keep himself from blacking out. He may have completed his run, but the most dangerous few minutes would be now, when he was barely in his senses due to exhaustion and without weapons or armor. He had to stop the Shaitans from emerging from GC-2, otherwise he and the rest of the Marines were as good as dead.