Til Valhalla

by Richard Fox

  “Up to fifteen thousand prisoners,” Sigmund said. “Bombs took out most of the retreating Corps. Smart ones cut and ran south soon as the first ones hit. Carius hasn’t encountered any organized resistance since he drove north. He should make it to Mackay by nightfall. Cairns by morning.”

  “You want to be with him, don’t you?” Roy asked.

  “This first. I was his lance commander. This is my duty,” Sigmund said. “We’ll jump on the next cargo plane north. Even Carius needs supplies.”

  “Here,” Digger said and Roy cut the channel to Sigmund.

  Digger went to her knees and brushed dirt away from Payne’s mangled helm. She swept her hands down, uncovering his chest and the damage beneath.

  “He’s why I’m alive.” Her shoulders dropped and her palms turned up on her knees. “I got hit bad on Taiwan. He took care of me. Carried me through everything after I got hit. Put me on the ship and almost strangled a nurse to get me looked at. Whole time…whole time he kept telling me we had to make it home. Back to ’Straya where we belonged. Said we should be too proud and too tough to die anywhere else.”

  She looked over to the curtain of smoke in the distance.

  “I lost the chance to be with him at the end. He never let me die and when I should’ve been with him to return the favor…I wasn’t there. What now, mate?” she asked Payne. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

  “He saved me,” Roy said. “He was hit and dying…I realize it now. He was hit and his suit was about to lock him out, but he overrode the system so he could keep functioning. He got off one last shot…that kept me alive.”

  Digger brushed more soil off Payne’s breastplate. Her helm shook from side to side.

  “He was done for and he knew it. If he broke the protocols…then he didn’t go fast. He felt it all,” Digger said.

  “There is no more worthy death,” Sigmund said. “His blood strengthens the soil of his homeland. May we all find such a fate.”

  “I want my mate back,” Digger said. “Not a memorial. Not another reason to tear up on Remembrance Day. I want this—” she tapped her fist to Payne’s chest “—I want this pig-headed, half-crazy son of a bitch back.”

  “And he wanted you to live,” Roy said. “And if he was here now, I’d bet he’d be on Carius’ heels, running down the last of the occupiers. That duty falls to us now. For his memory. To honor him.”

  “That’s right, mate,” she said. “That’s right.”

  Sigmund went to one knee and put a hand to Payne’s chest.

  “Til Valhalla, warrior. Til Valhalla, where we may meet again.”

  Chapter 20

  Roy’s legs sloshed through a bog. Eucalyptus trees clung to raised ground, cutting his line of sight down to a few tens of yards in any direction. Overhead, Union Eagle fighters twisted in the sky as a dogfight with Chi-com Arrows raged on.

  “Digger, there’s no road out here,” he sent through the IR.

  “It is there,” she said. “It’s right where I told you it is. Just use your blasted expensive optics to find it.”

  “How do you know where anything is in this swamp—” A military cargo truck with a heavy machine gun rumbled in the distance. “Oh, there it is. Contact.”

  Roy’s rotary gun spun up and a quick burst shredded the cab. The truck veered off the road and tipped over, spilling dozens of Chi-com infantry into the swamp. He moved toward the wreck, mud and water swelling up with each step.

  “Told you. This is Northern Territory. My backyard,” Digger said.

  “Never took you for a swamp rat,” Roy said as he looked to one side and saw her through the trees.

  “We’re almost home,” she said. “So close to Darwin, I can almost see the lights.”

  “Can you see the three Chi-com divisions dug in around the city?” Sigmund sent from their flank. “Because that’s what the intelligence types say they’ve got defending the place.”

  “Don’t care what’s there,” she said. “Do care about finishing off the brigade we just crushed in Pine Creek. Better to kill the stragglers now than let them get back to Darwin.”

  Roy walked up onto the road where the truck was on fire. Dead soldiers lay crumpled on the pavement and in the swamp just down the shoulder. Three survivors shouted in fear and swam away from him. Roy turned his rotary gun on them, but Digger held up a hand in front of the barrels.

  “Don’t. Save the ammo,” she said.

  “What happened to ‘kill the stragglers now’?” he asked.

  “Watch.” Digger waved a finger at the three enemy soldiers.

  Roy zoomed in on them and saw a bit of driftwood next to them. Driftwood that was moving rather fast.

  A crocodile burst out of the water and chomped down on one man’s shoulder. The predator dragged him under the murky water, limbs splashing in and out of the surface, as the animal went into a death spin.

  “Crocs are hungry,” Digger said.

  A second soldier cried out in pain, arms raised for help, then vanished beneath the surface.

  The last made it to solid ground and looked back at the two Armor, then at the two pools of blood in the water.

  Digger spun her rotary gun and the last Chi-com turned and ran. He made it to a patch of bushes and started screaming. The cries cut out with a splash.

  “Those come from a land Down Under, fuckers,” she said.

  “I’m starting to miss the emus,” Roy said.

  “Observers report troops massing to the east,” Sigmund said as he arrived on the same road. “Carius wants eyes on before he authorizes an artillery strike.”

  “Now he’s cautious?” Digger asked. “He’s been out for Chi-com blood since Miriam Vale. The lack of sleep catching up to him?”

  “Has anyone managed to sleep this last week?” Roy asked. “Has it been a week? I’m getting a bit fuzzy.”

  “We’ve got the Chi-com on the run,” Digger said. “Slaughtered them all the way from the Vale to here. No time to stop. Come on, let’s tell the artillery where there’s troops in the open.”

  “You know another shortcut?” Roy asked as Digger ran past him. “Or just charge in face-first. Whatever.”

  He and Sigmund followed, their heavy footfalls thumping against the pavement. He’d taken a long, bloody tour through the Northern Territories. He would’ve appreciated the natural beauty if it hadn’t passed in a haze of blood and dead soldiers. The Armor force commanded by Carius had been bolstered with Atlantic Union air power. Troops from the Australian Army had mopped up behind the Armor—now joined by more Australian lances flown in from the front north of Perth.

  “Adelaide River’s just ahead,” Digger said. “Think they’ll blow the bridge? Or do they know by now it won’t stop us?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. I’ve gotten used to walking through swamps,” Roy said.

  Digger slowed, her cannon arm raised. “What…what is this?” she asked.

  Roy zoomed in on where she aimed. On a bridge crossing a swollen river were hundreds of people. Civilians. Each with a tattoo on their face. Chi-com soldiers raised a crossbeam and fired rifles into the air, kicking at the people, herding them forward.

  “Sons of bitches.” Digger raced forward, her cannon leveled, but she held her fire as the civilians swarmed forward. The road leading to the bridge from across the river was choked with people. A line that snaked back into the swamp.

  “Back,” Sigmund ordered. “Pull back. We’re a target and we put the civilians at risk.”

  “If they wanted to kill them, they would have.” Digger’s helm snapped from side to side. “Don’t see any other enemy.”

  The first of the civilians, a young woman holding a baby and carrying a single bag over her shoulder, reached Digger.

  “It’s true,” she said. “We heard, but we didn’t believe it. The Union came for us.” She turned her child’s face up to Digger.

  Digger went to one knee and touched the Australian flag on her chest. “I had to dra
g them kicking and screaming this far, miss,” Digger said. “What’s happening? Why are there so many—”

  “They ordered us all out,” said a rail-thin man. “Commies put us all on the road. Anyone still in the city in the next couple hours will get executed.”

  “Moving,” Sigmund said, waving the crowd past them. “Everyone keep moving.”

  Roy and Sigmund stood on either side of Digger as more and more people filed past.

  “There’s a quarter million people in Darwin,” Digger said. “They just turned them all out. They can’t…they’ll die out here. There’s no food, fresh water. We need to take the city back!”

  Digger was about to get up, but she was surrounded by a throng of people.

  “Carius says to hold our position,” Sigmund said. “He’s consulting with higher.”

  “‘Consulting,’” Digger said with disgust. “Look at this. These people are in danger and if we don’t—”

  “Look at them,” Roy said.

  People were crying as they passed, shouting out thanks and struggling to get close and touch the Armor.

  “They’re free,” Roy said. “Free and alive.”

  “For now,” Digger said. “But if we don’t—Mr. Dimitriou!” Digger shouted, pointing to a man with thinning hair and a bad comb-over leading a family of five. “Mr. Dimitriou, it’s me, Matty Walker in this suit.”

  The man squinted hard at Digger, then shuffled over, clearing the way for his wife and children and an elderly woman behind him.

  “Matty?” he asked.

  “Blueberry pancakes and vegemite every Sunday after church, you remember?” Digger tapped her chest. “At your restaurant?”

  “Matty…we thought you were dead,” he said. “When you didn’t come back after they took you…”

  “Me mum and da, where are they?”

  “Somewhere,” Dimitriou said. “They’re out here somewhere. Your mum’s sick. Very sick. I don’t know if she can make it through. The Bartons were helping him.”

  “Keep moving, sir,” Sigmund said. “You’re slowing everyone behind you.”

  Dimitriou raised a hand at him.

  “Where’ve you been, you dirty pom!”

  “Go, go,” Digger said, gesturing him forward. “Sigmund, I’m going to find my parents. They’re out there and they need me.”

  “No, we’re to hold right here. Carius’ orders,” he said.

  “I’m not asking you!” Digger stood and raised a knee, her heel just off the ground. “What…what did you do to my Armor? Let me go!”

  A ghostly image of a man appeared over the crowd. Roy tried to raise his cannon arm, but it wouldn’t obey. His speakers cut out and an IR channel linked the lance together.

  Marc Ibarra, in hues of blue and white, resolved over the passing civilians. None reacted to his presence.

  “This thing on?” Ibarra asked to one side. “They can see me now? You’re sure?”

  “What the hell is this?” Digger asked.

  “It did work. I mean—of course it did. I designed it,” Ibarra said. “Armor types.” He squinted at them. “Telemark again. Why am I not surprised? Your suits have a number of fail-safes built into them, part of the license agreement between the Ibarra Corporation and your home countries. Your HUD shows me as something of a ghost, yes? What a horrible way to live. All very under the table and not for public knowledge, you understand?”

  “Let me go!” Digger shouted.

  “I can’t do that, my dear,” Ibarra said, “because I’ve brokered a very tenuous cease-fire between the current powers that be in Beijing and the Atlantic Union and Australia. The Chinese commander in Darwin flushed out the civilians to slow you all down, and it sure has worked, hasn’t it? The bastard was also about to let fly with his rocket artillery and try and repeat the Miriam Vale massacre.”

  “No…no, they wouldn’t,” Digger said, and for the first time, Roy heard fear in her voice.

  “He would have, but darned if their fire-control computers stopped working thanks to me…I mean, an off-site consultant. Anyway, the grand poohbahs in Beijing promise that bastard has a date with a bullet as he nearly wrecked the talks.”

  “What talks, Ibarra?” Sigmund asked.

  “Miriam Vale was quite a shock,” Ibarra said. “One that could be blamed on the last cabal in power, thankfully. The new blood know they can’t hold Australia, so they’ve agreed to a cease-fire. One that goes into effect in the next two hours.”

  “They need to surrender,” Digger said. “Give us the city back so we can—”

  “They’ll keep Darwin,” Ibarra said flatly.

  “What?” Digger asked.

  “Mian zi,” Ibarra said. “‘Face.’ Reputation. The new leadership has to hold on to some glory to stay in charge. If they fold on every front, there will be a military coup and I don’t have the connections to see that it plays out to our advantage.”

  “There are people out here, Ibarra,” Roy said. “Women, children, and the elderly. What about them?”

  Ibarra looked down past his floating feet. “I’ve got airships en route. They’ll be flown out to Alice Springs then to wherever the Australians want to send them,” Ibarra said. “Trust me on this logistics matter, kids. I’m putting together a colony to Saturn. Moving a quarter million people out of the boonies on no notice is child’s play.”

  “Ibarra, that’s my home!” Digger shouted. “My family!”

  “Your family is still on the roles as being alive,” Ibarra said. “They’ll make it. You’re a hardy people. And what would you do now, eh? Go rampaging down that highway full of people who are a hell of a lot more delicate than you, and for what? To go back to your crap house and play in the same park you remember from being a little girl? Boo goddamn hoo! Sorry to be a bit harsh, but this is as close to winning as I can get us. The people are free. Everyone that wants to leave will leave, make new homes somewhere else in your gigantic country. No more di qia. The Chinese will keep Darwin and a couple coastal cities on the northwest coast. Their party bosses will have white sandy beaches to visit and plenty of crocodiles to pet. Want to go back to war for that? Be my guest. Just do it after my Saturn colony is on the way. You have no idea what a pain in the ass war is to my planning.”

  “You’re not Australian. You don’t know what you’re asking us to give up,” Digger said.

  “I’m American but Basque by extraction,” Ibarra said, wagging a finger. “I’ve heard it all from my grandmother. Now…if I let you all go, you promise you’ll behave?”

  “What do you want us to do?” Sigmund asked.

  Ibarra turned around and put a hand over his eyes.

  “So many…be statues, yes?” He turned back to them. “Symbols. Everyone that passes you today will know that’s the moment they became free from tyranny. Do that for me?”

  “If there’s any attack on the civilians, I don’t care if you lock my suit again,” Digger said, “I’ll get out of my Armor and kill every last one of them with my bare hands.”

  “I like you,” Ibarra said. “I like the way you think. But if there’s no more violence, you’ll stay there?”

  “Fine,” Digger snapped.

  “Good.” Ibarra raised a hand. “Shannon, let’s cut this off and—one last thing.” He looked at the Armor. “This never happened. Understand?”

  “What never happened?” Roy asked.

  “Smart man. Shannon?”

  Ibarra vanished and Roy’s suit returned to his control.

  “I hate that bastard,” Digger said.

  “He has a point,” Sigmund said. “This situation is—”

  “I hate him because he’s right and I was too ready to wreck all this,” Digger said. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

  “Said what?” Roy extended a hand to one side as a boy riding on his father’s shoulders reached out. The boy brushed Roy’s fingers.

  “Daddy! He’s real! I told you!”

  “Digger,” Sigmund said. “What do you
r parents look like?”

  A photo of a younger Digger in a high school graduation cap and gown, no tattoo, flanked by what had to be her parents came up on Roy’s HUD. Roy zoomed in on the diploma she held.

  “Matilda?” he asked.

  “Digger. I’m staying Digger, thanks,” she said.

  “Carius has airships on the way to Pine Creek,” Sigmund said. “Helicopters en route with med teams. We’ll get everyone out.”

  “We will be the last to leave,” Digger said.

  “Agreed,” Roy said.

  “Agreed.” Sigmund beat a fist to his chest.

  The three stood there for hours as the people of Darwin filed past.

  ****

  Roy and Sigmund stood at the edge of a clearing, a patch of swamp bulldozed and paved over with quick-crete to create a landing pad for helicopters and airships. A circle of blimps hung over the area, all waiting for space to descend and evacuate the mass of civilians lining the road back to Darwin.

  Not far away, Digger’s Armor was open. She’d dismounted and was next to a stretcher where her mother lay. The woman was dehydrated and suffering from near kidney failure, but medics had her stabilized. Digger’s father stood next to her, one arm around her shoulders as they both spoke to the ill woman.

  “I should be happier right now,” Roy said, “but we’re vulnerable. A giant target the Chi-com couldn’t miss. I heard some of the Australians talking about mass graves and—”

  “What will we do if the enemy slaughters civilians right now?” Sigmund asked.

  “Retribution. Total war. To hell with Ibarra’s cute little deals.”

  “And that is why we’re safe here.” Sigmund pointed out to the surrounding swamp. “But keep your head on a swivel all the same.”

  Carius approached, following the edge of the landing pad, his Armor scarred and pitted from bullet strikes, a sheen of dark red up to his knees and elbows. Roy wasn’t sure if it was blood or mud or both.

  “Telemark.” Carius beat a fist to his chest. “Digger…she found her family?”

  “That she did, sir,” Sigmund said.