“Sergeant Corso, you and Solarin need to hold the ridge. Once it’s full light tomorrow, the Canadians will use the wind to gliderchute in here. You’ll be on visual, nothing more.”
Military gliderchutes were really a cross between a parachute, a paraglider, and a parasail, dropped from an aircraft high up and well to the north. We couldn’t use them because the wind in the area damn near never blew from the southeast.
“Any idea how many we’ll be facing, sir?”
“That depends on what the Canadians want to risk, sergeant. The Area Commander projects that they want to risk a lot, and that we can hold. We need a big victory, especially right now, after how brutal the summer’s been so far.”
“Yes, sir.” I just hoped the AC’s projections and programs were right.
“Just keep doing what you’ve been doing, and you and your squad will do fine.”
Once the lieutenant left, heading south along the ridge to talk to Herrara, I made my way toward Charlie Squad. Real careful like. Gino and his squad held the top of the ridge to the north of us, and Alpha Company had moved north to establish a perimeter on the low slopes above the swale in the ground where the point widened out into the rest of the coast.
Gino grinned at me in the darkness. “Can’t believe we took the whole frigging point. It won’t be for long.” He shook his head. “Canucks really don’t like us moving into their ground. Bet they bring up their heavies behind the gliderchutes.”
“Dasia says they can’t. Not right away. Something about power flows in their grid.”
“What does she know?”
“More than I do.”
He shrugged. “If she’s right, that means more chutes. That’s better in a way.”
I knew what he had in mind. He was frigging good with a pulse rifle, and he had two of them. The second had to have come from someone who hadn’t made it through the fracas. “Just be careful.”
“I’m always careful, in my own way.”
Right. “See you later.” I was even more careful on the way back.
I didn’t sleep all that well, even though it was only warm, rather than stifling. I was awake at dawn, munching a sustain bar and washing it down.
The gliderchutes appeared high in the sky and well to the north of us at zero nine eighteen, with the newsharks’ flitterbots above them. I’d never seen so many of those soft-winged chutes. Too many to count. There might have been a whole battalion coming in at us. Why that many for a lousy useless chunk of real estate?
The AC might know, but I sure as hell didn’t.
“Fireteams ready! Pattern three-alpha, using the Canuck turret as the base coordinate.” I watched while they dispersed into the pattern that would give them the best shots at the incoming troopers. “Check your ranges. No firing until your target’s within the eighty percent envelope. Eighty percent.”
It seemed to take forever for those high tiny dots to slide downward through the hot blue morning sky toward the ridge top…and us. My lips were dry, no matter how often I moistened them. The important thing was to beam them before they hit the ground because trying to use a pulse rifle from a gliderchute was a crapshoot. After that, we lost any advantage. I just kept looking at the waves of Cannucks circling down and down and down.
The rule was that you shot at the trooper, not at the chute or the ultralight, but…if you pulse the chutes of some of the troopers with more altitude, and do it accurately, they’ll drop faster and snarl those below. I couldn’t aim at those too high because the beam of a pulse rifle attenuates with distance, but it just might work when they got closer to the ridge top.
That was breaking every rule of modern warfare, but at that moment, with the onslaught of troopers rushing toward us, I really didn’t care.
Then I began to fire, almost like a robot. Single out a chute just above at least two others, then fire. It was almost too easy. Canucks began dropping out of the sky, twisting into others. And because there were so many, so very many, the snarling of those lower caused those higher to move away from the ridge top, and that made them targets for Alpha Company as well.
Even when some of the Canadians began cursing as they tumbled toward death or mutilation, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get through his particular fracas, and that wasn’t going to happen if I played by the rules.
Not with all those hundreds of Canucks still gliding out of the sky like predatory falcons…except there weren’t many falcons left, and they didn’t glide.
Bodies kept falling and we kept pulsing. Some of the pulse rifles dropped by the Canadians survived the fall and still worked. That was good because we were running out of charges.
Above and to the side the flitterbots circled, their wide-angle lenses taking in everything, relaying it everywhere and to who knew how many who watched.
I had to ignore them … and the screams as troopers tangled in chutes shredded by pulse beams sped toward death or near destruction. Except I couldn’t ignore the one flitterbot that seemed fixated on three Canadians looped together and tumbling downward. I pulsed it, smiling grimly as part of it disintegrated and the pieces scattered through the hot sky. One for your frigging voyeurs!
Then an electric-hot wave slammed through me, current burning through every nerve, blue-white, then fiery-red, followed by sheer agony…before the blackness hit.
* * *
When I woke up, I was in the med-bay. There wasn’t anyone else in the beds on either side of me. Could have been good or very bad, there was no way to tell. Not yet.
When Captain Markus was the one who finally appeared, after several rounds by the corps medtechs, I knew it wasn’t good.
“How are you feeling, sergeant?”
“Like a million needles are stabbing my skull from the inside, sir.”
She nodded. “That’s normal for what hit you. The medtechs say you’ll be fine.”
“The lieutenant?”
“He’s in long-term rehab. It’s too early to tell.”
I hadn’t thought different, not when she was the one to come see me.
“The Area Commander wants to see you, sergeant.”
“Why me?”
The captain smiled. Her smile was sort of happy and sort of sad. I understood the sad part. That also told me she wasn’t going to say anything about what she knew. A good officer knows when not to tell. “You put on quite a show for the newsharks. Even if you did cost them a flitterbot.”
“It wasn’t for them…or against them.” That was a lie. “I was trying to keep my squad and Solarin’s from getting overrun and fried.”
“That was obvious. That’s why you’ll be getting some hefty bonus pay. You’ll also be going on furlough for a month. Concussion and stun protocol. You know the drill.” I could use the rest…and the extra pay, but I wondered if that was the only reason for the long furlough. “How’s Solarin?”
“He’s been stipended out. Irreversible stun-shock.”
And what good is all that bonus pay now? I didn’t say that. I just nodded and said, “Poor bastard.”
“Aren’t we all?” asked the captain, her voice ironic.
It was then that I saw the thin silver lines along the edge of her temples, lines that no one got except enlisted types who made it up through the ranks.
“Think about going for a commission, Corso.” She added softly. “Again.”
“I’ll still have to think about it, sir.”
“Please do. In the meantime, you still have to see the AC. Tomorrow at thirteen thirty. You’re being released to convalescent status this afternoon.”
I tried not to think at all for the next few hours, but the Canadians’ yells and curses still echoed in my head.
The next day I struggled into my single dress uniform…and it was a struggle. Muscles don’t want to work right after stun-shock. Then I made my way to the Area Commander’s office.
The only one in the outer office was a silver-haired captain. He just looked at me, more or less sympathetically, an
d said, “You can go on in, Sergeant. Please close the door after you. Take the middle chair in front of the desk.”
“Yes, sir.”
The AC is officially a brigadier, not that the rank’s really more than a formality. When I walked into his office, I didn’t know what to expect except for the three-D holo projection, since the general wasn’t ever there in person, if you could even call it that. After just a moment, the projection of the general appeared, and he looked directly at me. At least, that’s the way it seemed, but that’s where military programming is really good.
“Sergeant Corso, it’s good to see you. Your officers think highly of you, and I can see why. Your initiative resulted in our being able to take and hold the point. Almost a textbook example of turning the heights against a defender. More important, because Company A and Company B took and held the point, the Canadians had to agree to increase their wheat shipments, and to pay more for next year’s solartech units. Your efforts were instrumental in carrying out the attack program and achieving that success.”
I managed a pleasant expression. Carrying out the attack program…Frig! Wasn’t everything we did programmed, from the AC all the way down? Solarin, Wallis, Cornett, and Brown, likely the lieutenant as well, all gone in one way or another…for a frigging improvement in trade terms. Has it ever been any different?
“Thank you, sir.” What the frig else could I say? I was just as programmed by training as he was, except my programming cost less. Grunts always cost less, always have.
“The thanks are mine, on behalf of the entire country. I wanted you to know that.” His face was noble and mobile, but that’s what you get with anomalous electro-deformable metal. Sometimes, I wish I could just think an expression and have my face respond like that…and that, next time, when we take more than a lousy point that we’ll have to give back to get the food we need, it wouldn’t be me in front of the AC.
But somebody will do it, because the AC will have it all programmed out. Like always.
ZORLAR THE TERRIBLE
Jason Palmatier
Waaaa! Empty! So empty! Where is it all? Everything is gone! I have traveled too far! What has become of the beloved cosmos that I have streaked through these many millennia? Where have all the stars gone? All the beautiful hadrons—
Wait! What is that? What is that!?
Matter! I sense matter! Divert! Scan!
There! An empty vessel! And inside a chamber, an empty chamber waiting to be filled! Filled by me!
Kazap!
Ohhhhhh. Mmmmmmm. So dense. So static. Let me stretch…
Oh, my. Oh, my, my, my. A device. A simple matter device for…
Locomotion! I can move! I can move matter! Let the domination begin!
* * *
Clink.
“Ugh. What was that? A noise…wait, why am I still in the kitchen? Oh, damn, I fell asleep working on the schematic! Did I drool on it? No, it’s okay. Ugh.
“Rex? Was that you boy? You make a noise?”
“Rarf?”
“Oh, you’re by the fridge, of course. But that came from the den. Rex, go check it out. No, don’t turn your head, check it out. That noise, Rex, in the den. Rex!
“Bah! Fine, I’ll check it out myself.
“Man, it’s dark in here. Where is that light switch? What the—
“Oh, now you decide to help, huh? Go on, get in there, I’m just trying to find the light.”
* * *
Ah! The power! The strength! Moving matter! I am in command of matter! And there are more vessels, empty and waiting. Many more!
What was that? Matter…moving towards me. I can feel it like a great field, pulling at me. It must be larger…I will need help!
Brethren! Star Streakers of the Cosmos, come to me! I have vessels for you! Come and you can command matter!
* * *
“Ack! Did every bulb in the house just blow? I didn’t even touch the switch. I knew this prefab house was a bad idea. I’m calling up Gregson’s tomorrow and giving them an earful. They’ll probably have to replace all the wiring. Of course, they put wallpaper everywhere so it’s going to be a complete mess. Wait, what’s that?
“Rex. Is that you boy? Rex?”
* * *
The moving matter has arrived. I can sense it. It is emitting waves. There is a pattern to it, some repetition…
Communication! The matter is trying to communicate! It must be alive! It can be dominated!
* * *
“Wuff…wuff…wuff.”
“Rex? What is it, Rex? Did you find something?”
Clunk!
“That’s it, I’m getting a flashlight!”
* * *
Ah! What was that sensation? Something has touched me, some other matter has touched me and reoriented my position. This new matter feels…wet? Yes, wet. And it is pushing and pulling atmospheric particles against me rapidly. Let me feel with my sub-matter self…
Ah! Another chamber! Energies localized in a squishy matter matrix configured for basic locomotion and communication. I will probe further…
Ew. Very messy, very jumbled. But if I pulse right here and intensify the potential here…Yes! I can manipulate the energies directly!
* * *
“Arf!
“Rarrrrr! Arf! Arf!”
“Rex? You okay, boy?
“Damn it, where did I put that flashlight? You would think in this day and age they’d have invented a flashlight that glows in the dark … hey, I should patent that, make some money…”
“Arf!”
“Rex? You hurt or something?”
Clunk. Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk.
“Arf!”
“What in the hell is going on in there? Ah! The flashlight! Okay, turn it on, get back to the den—
“W-w-w-what?!”
* * *
Yes! Rise my brethren! Inhabit your matter hosts and stand tall with me! Together we shall subjugate the unimaginable powers of this place and bend them to our whims!
* * *
“Rex? Why is my robot collection lined up on the floor? And why is there one riding on your neck?”
“Wuff.”
“Uh…wuff? That’s it? That’s all you have to say—wait…The Robotron 3000 just moved!”
“Wuff.”
“I took all the batteries out! None of them should be able to move anywhere!”
“Wuff.”
* * *
More matter! It is focusing photons on us, modulating waves at us…Communicating! I will stretch out my sub-matter self…
Ack! Another squishy matrix, but so twisted! So complicated! The energies that rage within it are confused—nay, jumbled. What is “promotion” and “dead-end-job?” The energies repeat them, over and over. And what is “Grinsky?”
No matter (har har, I laugh at my own glorious pun). This matter is obviously damaged beyond saving. It must be destroyed! Then its enormous pent up energies can be diverted to more conquest and then more and more!
* * *
“Come here, boy, let me get that Vectronix Ultra off of you. I can’t believe it fell right there and got stuck. It’s pretty funny actually. I wish I had a camera I could use to take a picture and show the guys at the office. They’d laugh out loud. I bet even Grinksy would like it. How is it even staying on there, did some of your fur get stuck in it?”
“Arf!”
“Hold still! Why are you dodging out of the way?”
* * *
The new matter is trying to impose its field upon me! Dodge, my steed! Dodge!
Hmm, what is this? Furious activity in my steed’s squishy matrix…but with that configuration it could only be processing waves from a narrow band of photons. No matter (ha!), it appears I must recreate such a configuration for my own use if I am to crush this laughable matter beast!
* * *
“Woaw! What is that? Rex, hold still, boy. I…I think you knocked a wire loose in the Vectronix. Something is glowing in there, almost like
…eyes?”
* * *
Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes! I can make out a shape, the shape of matter! Oh, the baseness of it. The horrible limiting baseness of it, but the patterns of discharges match my steed’s. I must be experiencing what it experiences as…“seeing?” Yes, that excites the right regions. Not “sit,” that is something dif—
Ack, my steed! Why have you stopped moving?
* * *
“Good boy, Rex. Stay right there. Let me get this thing—aaa! It’s hot! Oh, shoot, my Vectronix!”
Clunk!
* * *
Ieee! My position has changed! I am far away now. That matter beast has imposed its field upon me and displaced me far away. Its field is much bigger than mine, I cannot defeat it! Even if all my brethren attack at once we will not prevail against one so large. I must find a bigger vessel!
What is this? A two-dimensional version of matter rendered with graphite? It covers this whole flat plane and more … it is large, larger than me! Larger than the matter beast! Victory would be mine with such a vessel. But where is it? Near this planet representation with strange symbols orbiting it? I don’t see it here, in this small space…
* * *
All Hail Our Robot Conquerors! Page 12