by Jay Allan
Taylor nodded. Hank Daniels was a hothead, the last person most people would expect to succeed at explaining the crusade and rallying forces to the cause. But Taylor knew Daniels was a believer too, a man who felt, perhaps even more fervently than Taylor, that those who had seized Earth’s future must be made to pay for their actions. And it turned out that enthusiasm was contagious. Daniels had led two expeditions, and he’d brought back more followers than anyone else, by a considerable margin.
Taylor looked out over the camp, allowing himself a moment of amazement at its size. He’d left Erastus with a force just over thirteen thousand strong, almost ten thousand of them enhanced Supersoldiers. Now, despite the losses incurred since then, he had over five times the manpower he began with…though the road the army had traveled had cost him almost two-thirds of his oldest comrades, mostly lost in the deadly struggle with the Black Corps.
Taylor felt the urge to delay, to order another round of recruiting expeditions. But he knew he couldn’t. The nearest contested Portal Worlds were many transits away. It would take months, possibly years for his people to reach them. And he’d waited as long as he could. UNGov knew he was out here…and there was little doubt they were well aware his forces would eventually return to Earth. He’d given them enough time to prepare, too much. Time served them, not him. They had the resources of a world to draw upon. No, he couldn’t wait. It was time.
“Okay Bear…it begins. Tell Frantic to get his people ready. They transit tomorrow.” Karl “Frantic” Young was another of Taylor’s original comrades, a soldier who had served at his side since the early days on Gehenna…and the man he had chosen to lead the advance guard, three hundred soldiers who would go through the Portal…who would secure the area and spread out, gathering intelligence before the main army followed.
“Yes, Jake.” Bear was always informal with his commander, and it was something Taylor appreciated, somewhere deep down. So many of his soldiers believed in the crusade, and they looked at him as something beyond just another man. The unquestioning loyalty was useful, no doubt, but Bear—and Frantic and Hank Daniels—kept Taylor grounded. They were his link to the past, to the days when he wore stripes on his sleeve and crawled around the blast furnace that was Gehenna. He’d hated his service there, they all had. They’d spent hours talking of other places, of where they’d come from on Earth, playfully taunting each other with tales of cool breezes and refreshing spring rains—and in Taylor’s case, snow-covered New Hampshire hills. But now Taylor realized that in some way, in spite of all that, Erastus had become his home too, and his memories of that blasted hell had taken on a sentimental aspect. Some part of him longed to shed the responsibilities of an army commander, to go back to the days when he was in charge of only the handful of men around him, friends and comrades he knew well…and trusted with his life.
Bear turned and began to walk away, but Taylor stepped after him. “Bear,” he called to his friend.
Samuels stopped and turned around. “Yeah, Jake?”
“Tell Frantic we’ll have dinner in my tent tonight. And find Hank and tell him too. I want the old crew, Bear…all of us who are left.” Taylor’s voice was soft, distracted. “One more night together before the final battle, eh?” He forced a grin. “We can talk about old times.”
Bear Samuels returned the smile. “Yeah, Jake,” the giant replied. “Old times. I’d like that. I think all the guys will.” Then he turned and walked down the camp’s main road.
* * *
The Army of Liberation had grown massively, and its camp had expanded along with its troop roster. Hundreds of shelters were lined up in neat rows, clustered around mess halls and other support structures. And next to one mess hall, in the wet clay just outside the door, lay a line of rocks. To the soldiers walking past before and after the evening meal, it was nothing out of the ordinary. But for a select few, it was a signal, a prearranged pattern they had been waiting for, and they took note as they entered. The message was a simple one. There would be a meeting, an hour after sunset, just outside the camp.
Mitchell Klein walked past the mess shelter, his eyes darting toward the line of stones. He knew what the signal meant…indeed, he’d placed the rocks there himself. Klein had been a soldier in Force Phillos, a lieutenant and a communications specialist, and he’d spent most of his time working like the other soldiers, first in Force Phillos and now in the AOL. But Klein wasn’t a draftee like the others, he hadn’t been conscripted or blackmailed into enlisting. He’d come voluntarily. And unlike the soldiers of Force Phillos, he’d always expected to return to Earth one day…not only return, but to receive a rich reward for his years of service on a shithole like Phillos. Klein was a spy, one sent to Phillos by UNGov, to monitor his comrades and seek out any signs of disloyalty.
UNGov kept watch over the population closely, seeking to cut off any dissent or rebellion before it had the chance to grow into something dangerous. Schools encouraged children to report any suspicious behavior by their parents, neighbors were recruited to spy on those who live around them. And when armies were sent to the Portal worlds to fight the Tegeri, they carried in their own ranks UNGov agents who fought alongside their comrades, but watched them closely too.
For several years, he’d thought his posting was a waste of time and resources. There were few opportunities for UNGov’s stranded soldiers to do anything but fight the Machines. He’d seen plenty of despair and demoralization, and even grumbling about UNGov, words that would get people sent to reeducation camps back home. But he wasn’t back home, and UNGov wanted as little disruption in its planetary armies as possible. So Klein allowed the mildly seditious behavior to go by without intervention. He was there just in case something major ever occurred, widespread mutiny or the like.
Then Jake Taylor and the Army of Liberation arrived. They told their story of UNGov perfidy, and they rallied the warriors of Force Phillos to join them. Klein hadn’t been sure what to do. His directives covered a wide array of potential acts of disloyalty, but none of them addressed an invasion by another Earth force, one in open rebellion against UNGov. His first instinct was to stay behind—Taylor had announced that anyone who didn’t wish to join his crusade would be allowed to remain on Phillos, unmolested by his forces. But Klein, thoroughly indoctrinated in UNGov’s way of doing things, couldn’t believe that Taylor would leave those who didn’t join him. He suspected a force of Taylor’s loyalists would remain behind, that they would attack and kill the soldiers who had stayed. So he joined those flocking to the AOL’s banners.
Klein had even considered truly committing himself to Taylor’s cause. He had to admit, the AOL’s commander was a charismatic individual who had an almost hypnotic effect when he addressed soldiers. It would be easy to accept what Taylor said, allow himself to be swept up in the same wave of enthusiasm that embraced the other men around him. But Klein was a pragmatist. For all the roaring of the troops, even for the steadily swelling ranks of the army, he knew they didn’t have a chance. UNGov didn’t have much of an army on Earth—the lack of quarreling nation states made that need obsolete. But it did have extensive internal security forces and the resources of an entire world to deploy. Even with Taylor’s skill, and the experience of 70,000 hardened veterans, he couldn’t see how they could win in the end.
No, Klein decided to retain his allegiance to UNGov, to continue in his role as a spy, now monitoring the AOL as it made its way closer to Earth. He had no way to report anything to his superiors on Earth, not yet, at least. But he’d had some success at finding his fellow agents, his counterparts who had been deployed to the other armies that had supplied recruits for the AOL. His clandestine signals had been answered, and now he had half a dozen operatives in his nascent cell.
They operated slowly, cautiously. The small number of agents he’d found was proof of how effective Taylor was at rooting out treacherous elements in the army. UNGov had deployed dozens of agents to each planetary force, yet only a few appeared to remain
. To what extent the others had decided to remain behind with their respective forces…or whether Taylor and his people had discovered and killed them, he didn’t know.
Klein had exercised caution up to now, and his handful of agents had done little but have the occasional clandestine meeting. But now the army was about to move back to Earth. If he was going to accomplish anything, now was the time. He thought of the rewards UNGov would shower on its agents if they managed to help defeat the AOL…promotions, cash donatives, power. His greed pushed back against his fear, driving him to make a move now, to reach for the chance to advance himself, and his small group, to the upper ranks of Earth’s privileged class.
He would meet with his people tonight, at the spot they had chosen outside the camp. They would all have missions. Most would try to contact UNGov as soon as the army began transiting to Earth. The Portal led to a very remote location, and Klein was certain Taylor would try to get as much of his army through and in place before they were discovered. The sooner UNGov knew where the invasion was coming from, the quicker they could crush it…and reward their loyal agents.
But Klein had set his own sites higher. He had a plan, one that would ensure him not just rewards, but a route to the highest levels of government and power, possibly even a seat on the Secretariat one day. It was the stuff of dreams, power and luxury unimaginable. And all he had to do was complete the mission he’d set for himself.
All he had to do was assassinate Jake Taylor.
* * *
“This reminds me of old times, of simpler times.” Taylor never thought he’d refer to his days on Erastus with anything like fondness, yet something of the sort had managed to work its way into his mindset. “Back with the 213th at firebase Delta.” His thoughts drifted across the years, his general’s stars fading away, replaced by a non-com’s stripes. There had been six of them among those stationed at base Delta, men who were more than friends, closer than brothers. Four of them were gathered now, poking at the last scraps of the closest thing to a celebratory dinner possible using Tegeri-supplied field rations.
Two other chairs sat at the table, placed there at Taylor’s command, but empty. The first paid homage to Tom Warner, a sniper Jake and his closest friends had called ‘Longbow.’ Warner had been dead many years, killed in action long before Taylor’s rebellion. But his comrades still remembered him, still missed him. He was still one of them, as he would always be, as long as even one of them remained. They spoke of him often, of his adventures, of how his often-extreme cockiness somehow never rendered him unlikable. Longbow Warner had never served a day with the Army of Liberation, yet to Taylor and his comrades, he was as woven into its history as any of them.
The second chair was Tony Black’s. The former street tough from the Philadelphia slums had fought under the AOL’s banner. Indeed, he had been Taylor’s second in command since the day they’d raised the flag of revolt. He hadn’t always agreed with Taylor’s decisions, and the two had sometimes clashed over how to proceed, but Jake had considered Black his best friend. He still did.
Black had been killed on Juno, in the final stages of the campaign. He’d been far from Taylor as he lay dying, and their final words were via the com unit. Taylor still ached for his friend, and he regretted that he hadn’t been there to comfort Black at least, if he couldn’t save him. But he’d become used to loss. War was all he knew now, and in war men died. Even old comrades. Even best friends.
“They were simpler times, Jake.” Hank Daniels sighed and pushed back his plate. “We’ve seen a lot of things since then none of us could have imagined, friends, but I’d wager not one of us could have foreseen sitting around the table reminiscing about Erastus. We called the place Gehenna…hell! Now, I’ll be damned if part of me doesn’t wish we were back there. I used to say some pretty nasty stuff about senior officers back then, but now I understand. The responsibility is crushing, it wears you down. There was a certain freedom in just following orders. We faced danger on the field, certainly, but at least when we got back to base we had a break. Yeah, the food was lousy…” He poked at his plate. “…not that it’s all that much better now…but we could drop down on our bunks and just sleep. I haven’t had a decent night’s rest in years.”
Taylor nodded. “Nor I. I used to think it was miserable rolling around in the heat, trying to get to sleep. But there are worse things than physical discomfort, aren’t there? Soldiers fight, they die and they watch friends die. But now the fate of an entire world rests in our hands. It’s a burden, a heavy one.”
“You have done well, Jake. Whatever happens in the days and weeks to come, what you have accomplished is remarkable.” Karl Young looked across the table at Taylor. “Our road has been a difficult one, and we have not come this far without loss, certainly. But we are here, and tomorrow the first boots will pass through the Portal…and the final chapter will begin. You should take some time, a few moments even, and reflect on all you have accomplished.
“Thank you, Karl…but I—we—set out with a single purpose, and that purpose still lies before us. When we stand in Geneva, when the worldwide apparatus that enslaves mankind lies in ruins, the men and women responsible dead at our feet…then I will do as you say. Though no victory, no success will erase the price we have paid, will continue to pay. Is there joy in such a victory? Or merely relief, grim satisfaction that a great evil has been vanquished.
Taylor’s thoughts were darker still. He knew destroying UNGov would be enormously difficult, but even if his people were successful, what would follow? UNGov had exploited mankind’s fear to seize control of the world—but men and nations had yielded their freedom voluntarily. For all UNGov’s evils, hardly a shot had been fired on Earth in its rise to power.
What would follow its destruction? He suspected there would be cries for him to take power, to create a new government to replace UNGov. But Taylor was a soldier, not a politician. He understood war, fighting against an enemy, battling for the comrades at his side. But he had no idea how to govern a world, and even less desire to try. What would he do? If he simply walked away, disbanded his army, would a disordered world find its way to some kind of just government? He might have convinced himself to believe that at one time, but no longer. He suspected if he didn’t take power he would just leave the way open for a new UNGov to fill the void. But if he stepped into the place of those he deposed, would he be anything different? Or would he just become what he’d hated, what he’d fought to destroy?
He forced the thoughts from his mind, the same way he usually did, by reminding himself he should focus on the battle at hand, which had to be won before the future of Earth would even become a factor. But it still loomed heavily, closing in on him…the realization that even victory against overwhelming odds would only bring him to a new crisis.
“Well,” Taylor said, looking around the table at his three closest friends, “I do have some official business while we are here.”
The other three men looked back at him, with the rapt attention—the almost hero worship he’d come to so despise. Taylor, more than anything, just wanted to be one of them, like he’d been years before. But he knew he wasn’t anymore, not really. Even those closest to him had fallen under the spell of the great leader. They called him Jake, they joked around, with him at the dinner table…but he knew they saw him differently than they had back on Erastus. When they’d fought in that desert hell, he knew any of these men would have risked their lives to save him…but now he suspected any of them would walk off a cliff if he ordered it. Tony Black had been the only who really resisted Taylor’s transformation to larger than life commander, and even he had repented as he lay dying.
“Something for each of you, before we begin the final war.” He reached down to a small sack at his feet, pulling out three tiny boxes. He tossed one to each of his friends, and leaned back. “Well,” he said a few seconds later, waving his hand as he did. “Open them.”
The three men paused another few seconds and the
n, almost as one, they opened the packages. Each one of them contained a small silver insignia, the two bright stars of a major general. It was a rank that hadn’t existed for forty years, not since UNGov had taken control of Earth and dissolved the national armies. The planetary forces in the war against the Tegeri had each been commanded by one general, who wore a single brigadier’s star, and the AOL had followed the same custom. But as various planetary armies had rallied to the cause, several former theater commanders had joined the AOL, confusing the chain of command with additional one-star generals.
“The three of you are my executive officers, and your rank should make that clear. I cannot lead this army alone, and though we have added some excellent officers to our ranks, there should be no doubt that the three of you are my most trusted companions.”
He looked around the table, and he could see his friends had become a bit emotional. Bear Samuels, the gentle giant, looked as if he might throw the table aside and rush to embrace Taylor…and Young and Daniels seemed like they just might do the same.
“You deserve it…but there is more than just friendship and appreciation to this.” Taylor paused. “We face a titanic struggle, and we all know the vagaries of war. If I am killed, there can be no doubt. The three of you are in command after me.”
“Jake…” Young’s voice trailed off, as if the words he’d expected had failed to come.
“I am just a man, Karl,” Taylor said. “If I die, the three of you will keep the army together, and continue the quest. What we do is more important than any of us, and as long as one man remains in the army, it must continue.”
The room fell silent as Taylor’s comrades stared down at the bright metal stars in their hands. Finally, he said, “Okay, that’s the business of the evening. We all know what to do tomorrow…and in the days to come. So, let us set aside duty…for just a few moments. Let us just be soldiers, gathered together on the eve of battle. Let us sit and tell stories, and if our exploits are a bit exaggerated, we will forgive each other the embellishments!”