by Jay Allan
“Honorable T’arza, the human forces have launched a massive counter-attack against our positions near the Portal.” Jemorah bowed as he spoke. His people knew the Tegeri had created them, and they considered their patrons to be superiors, masters. “They have deployed massive numbers of fresh troops, newly arrived. Our lines are beginning to crumble, Honored T’arza.”
T’arza paused, his face impassive. He hadn’t expected to hold the Portal indefinitely, but he had hoped to maintain the interdiction of the human supply line until Taylor’s people defeated their enemies on Juno. He didn’t know what was happening on that world, but he doubted there had been enough time for the battle to be over. If the humans pushed through to the Portal now, they would get reinforcements to their forces, possibly enough to turn the tide and defeat Taylor’s army.
“Commander, you are to deploy all reserves to hold the Portal as long as possible, without regard to the longer term effect on the war.” T’arza knew he was sending thousands of New Ones to their deaths in a hopeless struggle, but days counted, even hours.
“Yes, Honorable T’arza.” The commander bowed his head and turned away to execute the orders. He expressed no doubt about T’arza’s command, no animosity that the Tegeri had just condemned vast numbers of his people to death in a futile battle.
T’arza watched Jemorah leave. He felt sickened, ashamed at the orders he had issued, but he kept that inside. There was no time for weakness, none even for morality. Such is war, he thought, wondering how the humans could excel so at something so terrible.
* * * * *
“All units, advance!” Halston stood at the forward command post, his brand new general’s stars gleaming on his otherwise soiled and worn fatigues. The battle to reclaim the Portal had been raging non-stop for three days. His forces had taken enormous losses, but the message from Earth had been clear. Retake the Portal immediately – at all costs.
“The 17th and 23rd Battalions are to advance and attack at once.” He’d been feeding in fresh troops to replace shattered units as quickly as he could get them forward. There were over 100,000 men on Oceania now, most of them originally bound for Juno. But they weren’t going to get to the fight on that world unless they broke through and retook the Portal. And Halston intended to get them there. The message from Earth had also promised him promotions and wealth and privilege if he succeeded. It didn’t say anything about what would happen if he failed, but he was well aware UNGov handled the stick with greater skill and readiness than the carrot.
Halston stared down at a small tablet, reviewing the OBs for the various units crowded behind the lines. He didn’t know how UNGov had gotten so many troops to Oceania, but now he had control of all of them, the largest army fielded since UNGov had taken control of Earth’s governments.
He’d never seen the Machines so aggressive. This was the first time he’d seen the Tegeri increase force levels on the planet too. Previously, they had simply replaced losses. They’d have crushed UN Force Oceania utterly by now if it hadn’t been for the new reserves. There were at least 20,000 casualties on each side, but the fighting was still going on. The Machines were determined to hang on to the Portal, and his people were going to keep coming until they took it back.
He watched the new reserves marching by, heading up to the front. He could hear the battle from where he stood, the explosions almost constant as his forces shelled the enemy line continuously.
He’d cut off the enemy’s reinforcements, positioning a blocking force to interdict their lines of supply and communication. The Machine reserves were attacking the blocking units just as ferociously as his own men were pushing toward the Portal. But he had more reserves, and whoever had the last soldier to commit to the fight was going to win.
The Machines had been pushed back, almost to the Portal itself by his constant attacks. He knew his people would break through soon. All he had to do was keep feeding new units into the fight. He could feel the tension, the excitement in his gut. The adrenalin in his system was temporarily keeping the crushing fatigue at bay. He knew how important the next 12 hours would be.
Yes, he thought, it is just a matter of time. And dead men.
Chapter 27
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
Everyone experiences conflicts in life, interactions with people they dislike, even hate. This is natural. There are many people who do bad things, hurt people, engender justifiable enmity from others. Man is a fallible creature, and many lose their way, become something dark and hurtful.
Then there is true evil. It is something we think about, write about, a concept we fear but often can’t describe clearly. It is pure malevolence, pitiless, soulless. It is something impossible to truly understand…until you go to a dark enough place and see it staring back at you.
I already had a list of reasons I despised UNGov, why I would give my all to destroy it, to track down and kill its leaders. But what they did to the men of the Black Corps, their own soldiers, was pure evil.
Black was in the thick of the fight, pistol in one hand, bloodstained knife in the other. The Inquisitor’s men were tough, but they were bullies at heart, without the stomachs to fight men like Black’s Supersoldiers.
He still hadn’t found Vanderberg, but there weren’t too many places the Inquisitor had left to hide. Most of his men were dead, and the rest were trying to flee…or begging futilely for mercy. Black had no pity for men who had killed and tortured so many civilians back on Earth. He’d seen Inquisitor teams at work before, during the food riots back in Philly. They were merciless, savage. They crushed the uprisings without pity, killing even the children as they tried to flee.
You’re all very brave when you’re facing starving, unarmed civilians, Black thought as he watched the terrified remnants of Vanderberg’s forces fleeing in a disordered rout. They wouldn’t get far. There were at least a thousand men from UN Force Juno waiting. Black didn’t know if those men would join the Crusade, but he was damned sure they were out to avenge their slain comrades. He knew Vanderberg’s men would get no pity from them either.
Black swung around to face another of the Inquisitor’s thugs. He thrust his arm forward, hitting his foe in the face hard with his pistol. The deputy was stunned, and he hesitated for an instant. That was all Black needed. He shoved his combat knife hard, jamming it into his enemy’s armpit with all the force his enhanced muscles could manage.
The deputy’s blood poured down Black’s arm as the man slid off his knife and fell to the floor dead. Black’s combat reflexes didn’t allow him a respite. He leapt forward, moving toward another of the deputies when a message came over the com.
“Attention Black Corps soldiers. This is Inquisitor Vanderberg.” The message was broadcast over the Black Corps’ frequency. The voice was deep, angry. “You are hereby commanded to attack and destroy all forces from the opposing army as well as all Juno regulars currently assisting them. This is a Priority Yellow-9 order.”
There weren’t many of the Black Corps men in the area, but the few that were there began firing immediately. Black was about to turn when he felt a pain in his shoulder. He was pushed forward by the round, and he spun himself around as he fell. It was one of Ralfieri’s people, from the detachment that had come to Taylor’s headquarters. Black hadn’t known what to expect from the troops positioned at the Portal, but he was shocked that the men who’d accompanied Ralfieri were attacking his people.
His veteran reflexes took over, and he raised his pistol even as he fell, putting at least 5 or 6 rounds in his attacker. He dropped to the ground and clicked on the com as he lay there. “It’s a trap, men. Take out Ralfieri’s escorts. Now!”
He took a deep breath. The shot to his shoulder was nothing, at least not enough to keep Tony Black out of a fight. He took a deep breath and got up, spinning his head around, looking for any of the Black Corps troopers who’d come with him. There was vengeance in his eyes. Black could stay cool in the maelstrom of combat, but he had no place f
or backstabbing traitors.
* * * * *
“Stand down!” Ralfieri’s voice was raw, but he kept screaming into the com. “All Black Corps personnel, cease fire immediately and stand down. I repeat, cease fire at once.”
He didn’t know what was happening. His people were firing on Black’s troops, even the detachment he’d taken with him to Taylor’s camp, men who’d listened to the truth and sworn to join the Crusade. They were attacking the Juno troops too, trying to aid the remnants of Vanderberg’s force. He didn’t know why they were following the Inquisitor’s orders now and ignoring his.
Black’s people had been taken by surprise, and they’d lost 20 men before they realized their new allies were attacking them. But then they fell on their attackers with unimaginable fury. Black’s men were Supersoldiers too, and they were hardened veterans of Gehenna. No warriors ever made could stand against them.
The men of Ralfieri’s detachment fell, one by one cut down by Black’s enraged soldiers. Black’s people assumed the entire mission was a trap, and all of the UN soldiers present were part of it. They fired away indiscriminately, unconcerned with collateral damage. A few of the Juno troops were caught in the crossfire, but most of them were off in pursuit of the last of Vanderberg’s men, cutting them down, tearing apart the ones they were able to catch and shooting down the others as they fled.
It took a few minutes, but Black realized it was just the Black Corps soldiers fighting his people. The Juno forces were finishing off Vanderberg’s troops, but none of them were attacking his men.
“Do not attack the Juno regulars!” Black shouted into the com. “Only the Black Corps troopers are attacking us.” Black saw another Black Corps man running across his field of view, about 50 meters away. His combat reflexes took over, whipping around his rifle and firing half a dozen shots. One of his hits tore half the target’s head off, and the body spun and fell to the ground.
Most of the Black Corps troopers in the immediate area were dead, only a few still standing. Black still didn’t understand what had happened, why Raflieri’s men had suddenly switched sides. He’d spoken with them all, and he’d been sure they were sincere. Could he have read them that incorrectly? It didn’t make sense.
“I want prisoners,” he abruptly yelled into the com. “Take the last few captive if possible.” He wanted to get to the bottom of this, and he needed prisoners to question.
“And find Inquisitor Vanderberg. I want him dead. Now!”
* * * * *
Taylor stood before the disarmed, shackled prisoners. Black’s people had managed to take three alive and send them back. They also found Vanderberg, or what was left of him, at least. The Juno regulars had run the Inquisitor down a few klicks from the Portal. By the time they stopped shooting, there was almost nothing left of Vanderberg’s mangled body, nothing solid at least.
The prisoners were all wounded, but they were still ambulatory. The nanotech in their bloodstreams was already at work, healing their injuries and pumping them full of antibiotics and stimulants. They stared back at Taylor with strange, blank looks on their faces, as if they were in some kind of shock.
“Why, Major Evans?” Taylor’s voice was calm, though he was enraged that the Black Corps soldiers had attacked his people. “Why did you disobey General Ralfieri and ambush my men?”
“General Taylor…” Evans looked up at Taylor, his watery eyes struggling to meet the general’s. There was a strip of cloth wrapped around a wound on his leg. The bandage was covered with dried blood and caked in mud and filth. “I don’t know, sir.” He forced himself to look Taylor in the eyes. “I just don’t know.”
Taylor glared down at Evans. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Major.”
Evans swallowed hard. “I really don’t know, sir. I…I just couldn’t…not do it, General.” His voice was cracked and emotional. “I…really don’t know, sir. My memory of the whole thing is very spotty.”
Taylor took a step toward Evans. “Major, do you understand how crazy that sounds? Almost 30 of my soldiers are dead, shot in the back by your men.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Do you know how hard it is for me not to put a bullet in your head right now?” Taylor glared at the prisoner. “You’d better start making sense. Now.”
Evans stared at Taylor piteously. “Yes, sir, I understand sir. I know it sounds insane.” His voice was a miserable rasp, and tears were streaming down his face. “But it is the truth, General. I couldn’t stop myself. I just couldn’t.”
Taylor was about to speak when he heard a fast hovercraft approaching. The light transport pulled up about 20 meters away, and General Antonio Ralfieri jumped out and strode purposefully toward Taylor and the prisoners. His left hand held a pistol and his right was clenched into a fist.
“Why Evans?” His voice was unfiltered rage. “Why did you do it?” He stopped right in front of the sobbing major. “You have one chance to explain yourself. One.” He held out the pistol, aiming it right at Evans’ head.
“Antonio…wait.” Taylor walked up slowly behind the enraged general. He put his hand gently on Ralfieri’s arm, pushing it slowly to the side. Taylor couldn’t explain it, but something told him Evans was telling the truth. It didn’t make sense, but he wanted to get to the bottom of just what had happened at the Portal.
“General Taylor, this treacherous vermin killed your men.” Ralfieri was enraged, and he struggled to control his tone when speaking to Taylor. “He should die for his crimes.”
“Antonio, just relax.” Taylor’s tone was calm, soothing. “If he is guilty I assure you he will pay with his life. But he says he couldn’t stop himself. That sounds like some kind of conditioning to me.”
Ralfieri looked skeptical. “General, I don’t want to believe what happened any more than you, but I don’t believe a word from this man’s mouth.”
“I’m not saying I do either.” Taylor glanced at the prostrate Evans then back to Ralfieri. “But what he is describing sounds a lot like conditioning of some kind. And I wouldn’t put it past UNGov to condition your men without your knowledge.” Taylor’s voice became darker, angrier when he mentioned UNGov.
“I swear to you both, it was like someone else was controlling my arms and legs.” Evans spoke softly, his voice deep with sadness. The men kneeling next to him nodded as he spoke.
“Yes, sirs,” one of them said. “The Major is telling the truth.
Ralfieri still looked skeptical, but Taylor turned to face him again. “It doesn’t make any sense, Antonio. They could have killed us both right here before you left if they’d wanted to. Why wait until they are in action, outnumbered 15-1 by my men? Unless they had no choice. Unless it was the Inquisitor’s order that activated their conditioning.”
Ralfieri just stared back at Taylor wordlessly. His mind was racing, wondering if Evans and his men had indeed been subjected to some kind of mental conditioning…if all of the Black Corps had.
Taylor flipped on his com. “Dr. Harris,” he said softly. “I need you here now. There are some men I want you to examine.”
* * * * *
“It would take me months to figure out exactly what was done to these guys, General, but I feel pretty comfortable saying they didn’t attack our people of their own free will.” Doctor Harris was the AOL’s chief surgeon and the commander of its medical services.
“You mean some kind of conditioning?” Taylor sounded uncertain. He wasn’t sure he believed that any kind of psycho-babble could have caused the Black Corps men to behave as they had.
“Yes…conditioning certainly, but something more than that too.” Harris’ tone changed, became darker, angrier. “General, these guys have all had some sort of invasive brain surgery.”
“Surgery? You mean they were modified somehow to control their behavior?” Fresh anger crept into Taylor’s voice.
“That’s exactly what I mean.” Harris was angry too. The thought of UNGov cutting into the soldiers’ brains so they could control
them more effectively was anathema to him. He wondered what kind of doctor would perform such a heinous procedure. “I seriously doubt they are capable of resisting the orders of a command figure.”
“But they ignored General Ralfieri’s orders to cease fire.”
“If I had to guess, General, I’d say there are certain command phrases as well as pre-programmed preferences for a designated hierarchy, one that may be very different from the military organizational chart.” He paused for a few seconds. “A UN Inquisitor is a high-level authority figure. It would not be at all surprising if the programming gives higher priority to orders from such an individual. Indeed, from UNGov’s perspective, that makes perfect sense. If a general were to go rogue, a government enforcer could take control of his men. I suspect the whole thing was instigated by our rebellion, General.”
Taylor stood silently for a minute, looking down at the ground and thinking about what Harris had just told him. Finally, his eyes shot back up to the doctor. “So how do we reverse the conditioning, Bill? Can you do it without surgery, or do you have to open them all up?” He began to think of the monumental task of performing brain surgery on thousands of Black Corps soldiers in the field.”
“There’s nothing I can do, General.” Harris’ voice was sad but firm.
“You mean nothing you can do here? What kind of facility do you need?”
“No, Jake.” The doctor spoke slowly, grimly. “There is nothing anyone can do. The procedure is irreversible.”
The words hit Taylor like a sledgehammer. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive, General.” Harris spoke softly. “It’s intentional. Whoever did it designed the procedure to be permanent. At least to current medical technology. Any attempt to modify the affected area of the brain would be immediately fatal.”