Til Valhalla

by Richard Fox

  “Another problem,” Payne said and pointed south. White lines of smoke traced up, while the forward tip arced down.

  “Incoming!” Digger shouted. “Hit the deck!”

  Roy dove forward, breaking through a tree trunk as something popped overhead. A red, smoking ball fell toward him, like a tiny comet. It burst apart midair and a red fog fell around him.

  Tremors rumbled through the ground as artillery rounds struck nearby, kicking up plumes of black soil, thickening the red air with dust.

  Roy shoved his rifle beneath his body then covered his helm with his arms as shrapnel pinged against his suit. He felt prickles against his skin from the superficial damage, but being in a steel rain still unnerved him. The thumps of artillery shells were…surprisingly low. The enemy was using air-burst shells, not ground-detonation fuses that had a chance to inflict massive damage on him or the other Armor.

  “They’re trying to pin us down,” Roy said, raising his helm. A hunk of shrapnel whacked against the plating over his optics. A hellscape of red sky and blasted earth surrounded him. He opened a radio channel.

  “Up!” he yelled, lurching forward, ignoring the slap of a near miss. “Get up before they—”

  He didn’t hear the rail-gun shell before it hit. The hypervelocity round moved far faster than sound, but he had a brief moment of insight to the enemy’s reaction to spotting his lance. The smoke and artillery kept them stationary just long enough to bring the Dragons’ rail guns into the fight.

  A mass of soil, burning trees and shattered rock enveloped Roy, ejecting him off the hillside and into a scrum of its remains. His HUD cut off as fail-safes engaged to keep the flood of sensations from overwhelming his neural system. Roy rattled against the inside of his pod…and the world went still.

  Pale-red light lit up around him, and he could see his arms floating in the amniosis.

  No no no…if I’m alive, I’m in this fight.

  He touched the umbilical line attached to his skull plugs and squeezed a breaker switch. His mouth opened to gasp as his suit reconnected with a flash of data. He saw cracks of light, and his limbs were sluggish to respond to movement.

  Roy shifted around, struggling like a swaddled baby, and dirt fell away from his helm. He was half-buried in detritus, bits of smoking shrapnel embedded in his arms like quills. He pulled himself out with one hand. The other still had an iron-clad grip on the rail rifle, a feat only Armor could have achieved.

  Everything around him was grayed out in a dirt fog, the sky red as blood.

  “Anyone?” Roy turned around, lost in the abyss. “Anyone out here?”

  A shadow appeared to one side. Roy snapped his rifle up, but the figure raised a hand.

  “Easy, mate,” Payne said as he neared. His Armor was stained with dirt, and his cannon arm hung loose to one side, the elbow and shoulder servos crushed. “Bad enough getting our shit mixed like that, worse to take a bullet from a friendly.”

  “Where…where is everyone else?”

  “Hell if I—look alive!” Payne pointed behind Roy and a rumble carried through the ground.

  In the distance, he heard a single voice cry, “Yazi!” The word thundered back from many more warriors.

  “Found ’em.” Payne lifted the barrel of his gauss rifle with his good hand. “Let’s see if these work as advertised. Mind your targets.”

  Roy shook dirt loose from his weapon and went down to one knee.

  “Faithful servant of God, invincible martyr,” Payne said, slapping a round into the rifle. “Saint George supported by God with the gift of faith and—”

  Dragons charged through the fog, halberds held high.

  Roy fired and the gauss shell struck the lead suit in the chest, the hit punching the Dragon backwards and into the arms of another just behind him. Roy and Payne opened up, exploding helms and blasting limbs from the ten Dragons that had found them.

  The initial shock of running face-first into a new weapon didn’t last long, as the surviving Dragons fired back with their arm-mounted cannons.

  Rolling to one side, Roy went prone, firing the last of his magazine into a Dragon shouting at the others, then he yanked the empty mag out and reached for a fresh one locked to his breastplate.

  The weapon emitted a series of beeps, electricity crackling from the battery pack. The beeps grew faster and faster as a painful heat carried up his arm.

  “Crap.” Roy flung the weapon at a Dragon, who caught it in surprise. The gauss rifle exploded, taking the Dragon’s helm and arms with it. Roy charged forward and kicked the wobbling Dragon in the chest, knocking another off-balance.

  He swept up a halberd and twisted around, letting the haft slide through his hand until the pommel caught against his fingers. He put his other hand to the haft just as the blade hit the staggered Dragon in the breastplate. The metal slashed the Dragon from shoulder to hip, tearing through Armor and the pod beneath.

  Roy shoulder-checked the dying Dragon off its feet and raised his weapon up to block a downward strike from another foe. Hafts struck and the impact sank Roy’s feet several inches into the loose dirt.

  Roy twisted one end over and angled his arm cannon down at the Dragon’s torso. He fired almost point-blank and the round hit hard, cracking the plate. He fired again and again, punching the Dragon back as the last round punctured the inner pod and killed the man within.

  Payne’s gauss rifle snapped as he advanced to Roy. The two went back to back, firing on any shadow that moved.

  A Dragon reared up from the ground and wrestled the gauss rifle away. Payne raised a foot and his anchor spike snapped out. He impaled the Dragon through the chest, pinning it to the ground.

  A shell hit Roy in the shoulder and spun him halfway around. He didn’t see the Dragon that tackled him, but he felt the impact and looked straight into the enemy’s optics. The Dragon pinned Roy’s cannon arm to the ground and fought to bring its own to bear on Roy, but he blocked it with his other arm.

  “Hold on,” Payne said as he yanked at the spike through the dead Armor beneath his foot, then looked up. A Dragon at the outer edge of the fight shot him in the helm, blowing half of it away. Payne took another hit to the arm holding the gauss rifle and his wrist exploded, dropping the weapon. Two more shells exploded against his chest, each impact kicking him hard. They would’ve sent him flying back if he weren’t anchored to the ground.

  Payne groaned and fell to one knee.

  Roy yelled and pushed harder against the Dragon he was wrestling. The enemy’s cannon muzzle swept slowly past his helm and toward his chest for a kill shot.

  Payne lifted the arm missing a hand and pressed it against the dead limb with the cannon. He pushed the barrel up and shot the Dragon on top of Roy. The round hit the enemy in the side and Roy kicked his hips up and rolled the two of them over. Punching his cannon arm into the Dragon’s chest, he fired three times, each hit sending a convulsion through the enemy.

  “Payne?” Roy swung his cannon arm up as the Dragon that shot Payne emerged. The Dragon fired a round that glanced off the back of Roy’s shoulder and severed the ammo line running into his back.

  Roy fired the last round in his cannon’s chamber and struck the Dragon between the optics. He picked up a halberd and threw it, hitting center mass and burying the blade up to the Dragon motif at the pommel.

  The Dragon leaned forward, propped up by the hilt as it sank into the ground.

  “Payne?” Roy went to his friend who’d gone down to one knee, his hand-less arm bent over his thigh, his cannon arm planted in the ground.

  Fluid poured down two craters in Payne’s chest, rivulets of blood flowing from the wounds.

  “She’ll be right, mate,” Payne said. “There’s still…still fighting. I can hear it. Don’t let them…don’t let them take me out of my Armor. This is…all I am. You go. I’ll catch up…no worries.”

  Roy looked over a shoulder at the crack of another heavy gauss rifle in the distance. With no other enemy in sight,
he put a hand to Payne’s wrecked helm and connected to the Australian’s suit. Data streamed onto Roy’s HUD and he saw just how hurt Payne really was.

  “It’s not that bad. You’ll be—”

  “Don’t,” Payne said. “I’m done here. I’ll go…go and know if the Saint will have me by his side. You…finish this.”

  “Why isn’t your Armor stabilizing you? Payne?” Roy gave him a gentle shake. “Payne?”

  A flat line played across Roy’s HUD. He pulled back and the data feed fizzled out. Roy beat a fist to his chest in salute.

  “None more worthy than you, Payne.” Roy picked up the fallen Armor’s gauss rifle. He listened for the sound of gunfire and ran toward it.

  ****

  Sigmund slammed his hands against the side of a Dragon’s helm, ripping it clean off the suit’s shoulders, then he kicked his anchor spike through the torso and pulled his leg out, the length covered in blood and amniosis.

  Digger wrenched the back of a dead Dragon open and yanked an ammo magazine from the housing. She tossed it to Sigmund as he dropped the helm and he swapped the new mag out for an empty one on Digger’s back.

  “Helps we use the same caliber,” she said.

  “Action front,” Sigmund said, pushing her to one side and punching his arm cannon out at a figure emerging from the fog. He bent his arm up when he recognized Roy.

  “Hell of a day,” Sigmund said. “Never thought I’d live to tell what it’s like to survive a rail strike, but here we are. Good to see you.”

  “Sir, any sign of Carius?” Roy asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Sigmund toed a burnt-out gauss rifle at his feet. “Slow rate of fire, unless you want to lose fingers.”

  “Payne?” Digger asked.

  Roy stopped and lowered his rifle.

  “Payne. Did you find him?”

  “He’s back there,” Roy said.

  “What?” Digger froze for a moment. “What do you mean?”

  “He…fell.”

  “Bullshit. Bullshit. There’s no way he’d go down now. Not when this is almost over.” She ran past Roy, but he caught her by the arm, pulled her back, and looked her straight in the optics.

  “He is gone and this fight isn’t over,” Roy said, dragging her back.

  “Hands off me, you bastard.” She twisted free and got a step away before stopping and staring out into the abyss. “I…how can I even find him now?”

  “Carius,” Sigmund said, tapping his helm. “He activated a beacon for lance commanders. He needs us.”

  “After,” Roy said. “We’ll find Payne after this. We need to do what we can for the others, Digger.”

  “Fucking hell.” She turned around. “Which way to Carius?”

  “Follow.” Sigmund took off running, his lance behind him.

  They came up to a field of boulders and shattered trees. Roy ducked around a rock bigger than he was and came face-to-face with a dirt-caked figure. He swung his gauss rifle up but the muzzle was slapped aside.

  “Friendly,” a gruff voice said.

  “Elias, that you under all that mess?” Roy said.

  “Carius needs us. But help me first.” Elias put his shoulder to the boulder and pushed. Roy added his strength and the rock canted to one side.

  “Hold it.” Elias reached down and pulled two suits out from under where the rock had been. Bodel and Kallen, their helms and chest plates slightly warped, got up.

  “Loose soil, helpful,” Bodel said.

  “Move it!” Sigmund yelled. “You want to be last to this fight?”

  Elias whacked Roy’s chest in thanks and the four Armor ran after Sigmund. The two lances came out of the field together and broke into a sprint.

  A loose ring of Dragons had formed around two dueling suits: Carius and Marshal Shimin, his red armor decorated with a dragon made up of painted gold.

  The Telemark and Iron Hearts charged through the haze and crashed into the enemy Armor.

  Roy fired his gauss rifle point-blank into a Dragon, blasting its torso apart and leaving its legs and waist still standing. He caught a halberd out of the corner of his eye and twisted the rifle around to meet the blow. The blade pierced the battery pack and stuck through the back of the weapon. Roy let the weapon go as the Dragon pulled back then ducked as it exploded, taking the right half of the Dragon with it.

  Roy tackled a Dragon struggling with Digger and pinned its arms back as the Australian rained blows against the Dragon’s head and torso. Digger reached back with a punch and slammed her fist through the Dragon’s chest hard enough for Roy to feel the impact through his pod.

  He rolled away and saw the Iron Hearts battling five Dragons. Elias held two halberds and flailed them both at the enemy while Bodel and Kallen shot through the melee, striking the enemy as Elias distracted them with wide swipes of the blades.

  With his cannon arm, Sigmund shot down the enemy as they tried to regroup.

  At the center of the ring, Carius hit Marshal Shimin with an uppercut that snapped the Dragon’s helm back, breaking neck servos.

  “Fool!” Carius struck him in the torso hard enough to lift the Dragon’s feet off the ground. Carius slipped his leg behind Shimin’s ankles and sent him horizontal with a sweep of his leg.

  Shimin hit hard and flat and Carius stomped down on the marshal’s cannon arm, breaking the weapon. Carius stepped onto the other arm, holding Shimin in place.

  “Arrogant, stupid fool,” Carius said as he reached down and gripped the sides of the Dragon’s breastplate, his fingers digging into metal until he ripped it away with a snap. He tossed the exquisitely crafted plate aside and looked down at the exposed pod.

  “I’ll have you look upon your doom with your own eyes.” Carius stabbed fingers into the seam of Shimin’s pod and pried it open. He reached inside and lifted out the man within, sputtering as the umbilical to the back of his head snapped away. With both hands holding Shimin like a doll, Carius brought him level to his optics.

  “Pathetic.” Carius squeezed hard and broke Shimin like an egg. He tossed the body aside, then picked up the breastplate.

  “He thought he could beat me one-on-one,” Carius said. “I let him try, kept him and his forces right where I needed them.” He looked to the red sky. “Speaking of, it’s time to leave.”

  “The signal for the bombers was a rail-gun strike,” Sigmund said. “But the Dragons sent it for us…and too soon.”

  “And too far north.” Carius’ legs hinged at the hip servos and tracks folded out from the leg housings. “We are at ground zero, and I suspect there may be more work for us to do after the strike. Can’t accomplish that if we’re dead. Roll out.”

  Roy transformed into his travel configuration, but Digger didn’t, her gaze out to the distance.

  “No, Payne’s out there somewhere,” she said.

  “There’s nothing we can do now.” Sigmund stepped in front of her. “You think he wants you to die now? For nothing? Come with us!”

  Digger turned away, then folded out her tracks.

  “Problem,” Kallen said, beating at one leg, the tracks half out. “Took some damage and I—”

  “Hop on.” Roy whacked his treads and Kallen jumped onto him. Roy drove forward, following Carius’ trail of dust. He was slower than the other Armor, but Elias and Bodel kept pace with him.

  “Go!” Kallen waved to the other Iron Hearts.

  “We’re in this together,” Elias said.

  Behind them, the first of the bombs struck. The force sent Roy’s tracks rattling against the ground.

  “You’re just trying to make us jealous.” Bodel raised a finger.

  The whoosh of incoming bombs wasn’t enough warning. The impact slapped them in the back like the hand of an angry giant and they went tumbling across the ground.

  A rush of dirt and branches swept over Roy as he stared to the sky. His Armor didn’t respond, and his HUD was a single blinking cursor. Another bomb hit flopped him up and he slammed back
down. His world went quiet, and Roy thought he was redlining, the damage and strain too much for his mind to handle.

  A suit appeared out of the fog and leaned over him. It was pristine, unblemished by damage or dirt. The Armor bore an American flag on one shoulder and a unit symbol of a fleur-de-lis on its chest.

  “Brother?” Roy asked.

  “Not yet, champ,” he heard. “Not yet.”

  His brother’s Armor vanished and he felt his heels bouncing against the ground as he was dragged away.

  Chapter 19

  Roy looked over the remains of the Battle of Miriam Vale. The hill they’d first taken position on was gone, blown out like a volcano crown from the Chi-com rail strikes. Smoke rose to the south where hundreds of enemy vehicles had been obliterated.

  It had been twelve hours since the battle ended with the saturation bombing. He’d been dragged out of the kill zone by both Sigmund and Digger, taken through a ravine and behind a line of hills that protected Carius’ force from the bombardment. He’d needed time to recover and for repairs to his suit, but he was back on his feet now. What he’d seen after the first bomb, though, gnawed at him.

  He was glad his Armor had survived the fight to be mostly functional, but he imagined the smell of so many scorched bodies would haunt his dreams.

  “Nothing here,” Sigmund said from a few dozen yards away as he kicked over a loose rock.

  “The beacon was here,” Digger said. “Keep looking.”

  Roy looked from side to side, tapping at the ground for anything firm. He touched something and brushed dirt away…just a tree trunk. He opened a private IR channel to Sigmund.

  “Sir, are you aware of any sort of…issues with the neural interface?”

  “You seeing that too? A data bleed. I can’t tell where it’s going. Have the techs look at it once we get to an operational pause, not that we’ll get one anytime soon. That what you asking about?” Sigmund asked.

  “Yes.” Roy swiped through data layers and found the same error. He decided the apparition of his brother must have been a figment of his imagination or the cumulative effects of stress. “Yes, that’s what I was asking about. Maybe an error from all the impacts. What’s the final tally on the enemy?” he asked, changing the subject.