Hell Fighters from Earth

by William C. Seigler

  What we are asking from the human volunteers is a three-year enlistment, which can be extended. We feel that many will extend if they are not taking large numbers of casualties, and they are fairly treated. After their period of enlistment, they may be returned to Earth. Discussions are underway to allow them to colonize a world we have discovered if that is preferable to them.

  Each time they enlist, it will be for a greater amount of money. They may retire rich after fifteen years if they wish. We are looking into building a retirement community for them on their home planet or another one should an appropriate one become available.

  Never underestimate the humans. The moment you think you have them figured out, they will surprise you.

  At first, we kept contacts with them to a minimum and only dealt with governments. Their distrust of us and their own secrecy became an obstacle. Therefore, we opened recruiting centers and went directly to their people. We use the human Separatists to run these operations.

  The hope is during training a male and a female human will couple. This can provide stability for them – most of the time.

  They often go through several different mates before settling on one. It is quite possibly best to move one or the other to a different unit when they change mates.

  When properly trained and equipped, and sexual and religious needs are met, the human is a formidable fighter, and, we believe, a match of the Reptilians. Experienced human fighters and trainers have put together the details of the training program.

  They are an argumentative and cantankerous species. If not kept busy, they will fight among themselves. They love to fight and appear to do it for recreation – boxing, wrestling, sumo wrestling, even something they call fencing and archery with primitive weapons.

  They love to fight, some say, more than they love to mate, and they mate with wild abandon. Only after tremendous hardships, discomfort, pain, and suffering do they lose their appetite for fighting and then only for a while. They are incredible survivors, which they had to be to keep from driving themselves into extinction.

  * * * *

  “Fall in!” Sergeant Williams bellowed. He was a huge barrel-chested man of unknown origin, but one could guess. Ebony, tall, and muscular with a British accent, he looked and acted every inch a lifer. Former commando, combat- hardened in west Asia, he was a man who gave orders without even a thought that someone might not carry them out.

  This was the most unusual army the human race had ever fielded. The only comparison would be the French Foreign Legion. Whereas the French used French officers, the friendlies used human officers from the Captain Nemo people. None of the raw recruits had ever seen a friendly. All the talk was about what they looked like. When would we see one?

  Once you were off planet, you were theirs. This planet did not suit Denver Smith. It was already too hot, and the sun was not up yet, but here he was.

  One of the things that made this army unusual was how you were compensated for your trouble. Many recruits would not make it. The bonus for even signing up and going off planet was enough to keep them well off for a while, and they paid in gold too.

  Stories were coming back with too many losers who had pockets full of real money and were living the high life in hot spots around the Earth. It did not do their Earth’s depression economy any harm either.

  The people who made it through phase one, really raked in the money. Invest that right and you were set for life. Getting through phase one was another matter, though. No, actually living through phase one was another matter entirely.

  No gals, Denver noticed. Some he had seen looked like lost waifs; some he would not want to meet in a dark alley. Not my problem, he told himself.

  “Right face!” Some right faced the American way, using the right heel and left foot toes to bring the body around. Some the British way, with high steps, and some just turned around.

  “Forward march! Double time march!”

  “Are we going to go everywhere at double time?” asked a recruit of no one in particular.

  “No talking in ranks!”

  Off they went. It was over half a mile, oh roughly about a kilometer, Denver reminded himself to use the metric system. Running would get the recruits into shape, ferret out the weakest, mentally and physically, and just plain hurt.

  I’m hungry enough and don’t really care. The quicker we get there, the quicker I eat. First run to the mess hall, quickly negotiate the monkey bars, complete three pull-ups, and ten pushups.

  The breakfast had been heavy and full of calories. Some of the men looked like they had not eaten so well in a long time, with predictable results. Now, for the first training event of the morning.

  It was covered like a pavilion except the recruits sat on the ground while an instructor went over a large chart explaining the obstacle course. “This is like no course you have ever seen. Here, there are real dangers.”

  To his right was a picture of something that looked like a Protoceratops, well kind of. The instructor pointed to it.

  “They only use the babies here, and they still weigh 150 kilos. You do not want to meet an adult. They are herbivores, mostly. They eat carrion, or you if they find you collapsed on the ground somewhere. Are there any questions?”

  A hand on the other side went up. The recruit began to ask his question, but the sergeant cut him off. “On your feet, stand at attention, and state your name!”

  The recruit did as he was told. “Sir, why do they put these animals in here?”

  “An excellent question. Sit down. The short answer is: we don’t. These creatures are native to this world. We tried to keep them out for a while. We were successful with the adults and with the carnivores that prey on the juveniles, but the babies were just too small.

  “We found after a while, they served to keep the training moving along at an acceptable pace. There are other dangers. Remember, if it crawls, slithers, walks, wiggles or even moves – run.”

  Some of the tough-guy recruits looked around like they didn’t believe it. This struck Denver as a bad place for misplaced macho; they would be better off bullying someone in school.

  Others were beginning to look nervous. It did not matter. His problem was staying alive. He did not like this world, but he didn’t want to go back to Earth either.

  Squad by squad the recruits took off in a run, some in silence, some with a war cry. Soon it was Denver’s turn. He stayed quiet and tried to remember how he had done this years ago. First over the wall; it was about two and a half meters high. He remembered enough to run at it, plant his foot in it, and let his momentum carry him.

  He grabbed the top of the wall. Hey, I can still do it. Over went his right leg. He was about to drop down to the other side when a recruit failed to get to the top of the wall. Without thinking, Denver extended a hand.

  “Come on!” he shouted. The other man ran again, Denver caught his hand and hauled him up to where he could get a grip on the top of the wall.

  “Thank you.” The accent was thick, Middle Eastern from the sound and the look of the man.

  “No prob., let’s go.” Down the other side they went. Denver had made his first friend.

  Unseen, an observer, said, “Mark this one. We’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Up ahead, Denver heard a scream. Looking up, he saw several recruits running back his way. “What are you guys doing?” There was no answer as the three skinny pale- faced youths ran by.

  He stopped for a moment and looked after them. “What tha’? Maybe it is just part of the exercise.” Denver was not about to dawdle. The recruit who finished first was paid the most and so on down the line.

  While money is not everything, it is easier to stand on principle if you have some. Okay my man, move it, he thought to himself. He made a mental note to keep an eye out.

  Now he climbed up to the log about 4 meters over a water hazar
d. It was big enough, wet, and had a box on top that he had to step up on to get across.

  That was easy enough. Wonder what was in the water. Around the next bend, he came upon a recruit retching his guts. “What happened to you?” The kid only pointed.

  Carefully moving forward, he saw it. Some kind of a creature was eating a recruit! The guy was dead already, and the thing looked like what they showed in the briefing.

  There was blood everywhere, as the baby ‘dino’ looking thing devoured its breakfast of raw human. The frightened recruit turned and looked back.

  “It’s too late. We can’t save him. The only thing we can do is let the sergeant know.”

  “Are you crazy, he’s dead! It’s eating him!” The kid began to shudder and cry.

  “Great, look pal, you got to keep moving, or one will get you.” The kid continued to cry. Denver grabbed him, pulled him to his feet, and pushed him forward, crying, and puking.

  “Barbed wire, why in the heck is there barbed wire?” Denver dropped to his belly and began to crawl. On the other side, he stood and looked for the kid. He was just standing there.

  “Come on. Don’t just stand there!” The kid wrapped his arms around himself and turned away.

  “Come on kid!” There was no response.

  A TAC officer stepped from among the trees. “Go on, we’ll take it from here,” he said as he took the shattered youth by the elbow.

  “There’s a guy that’s….”

  The TAC officer raised his hand. “We know. Now get going.”

  Stunned, Denver turned and ran on. What kind of place is this, and what have I gotten myself into. How did he know? They must be watching us. Make a note. He could hear the next obstacle before he could see it. The whirring got louder. When he reached it, he was stunned.

  It looked like something from a bad movie. Several recruits were standing around trying to figure out what to do. There were two poles. From each were two arms that spun, one high and one low. Dodge the high one and jump the low one. Several had tried. A couple of people still lay on the ground, and as usual, there was no way around it.

  “I’m out. I’m not gonna’ get myself beat up over this,” an older man stammered.

  “What you going to do?” asked another.

  “Just sit here till they come for me.”

  Denver spoke up. “I don’t know about staying put. Did you guys see what happened back there?”

  “No, what?”

  “One of those baby dinosaur things is eating somebody.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Must have happened after you guys passed.”

  “I don’t believe you, man. How could they just let something eat one of us?”

  “I don’t know, but it happened.”

  Another man spoke up, “I think we can get around by climbing up and over those rocks. It’s worth a try.”

  “They’ll dock us if we go off course,” another said.

  “I don’t see anybody. They’ll never know.”

  Denver had stepped to the side and was studying the device. What a nutty thing to put on an obstacle course. Those things on the end almost look like boxing gloves. I wonder. He slipped off this web belt, wrapped one end around his right hand, and put just one loop around his left.

  Timing is everything, he reminded himself. At what he thought was the proper instant, he launched himself at the right side of the device and hooked a loop over it.

  He was immediately yanked off his feet and flung around, over the low bar, and as he reached the other side released the belt, or at least he tried.

  It was caught. “Duck,” someone cried. On his second pass to the safe side, he was able to release his grip and was immediately flung sprawling on the ground. He rolled and came to a stop face up and covered with dust.

  “You okay?”

  “Never better.”

  “That was a stupid thing to do.”

  Denver took a quick accounting and decided nothing was broken. His pride would heal. He rolled over to his side and stiffly got to his feet. “Maybe it was stupid, but I’m over here and you ain’t,” he said with a feral grin.

  About that time, the three who had tried to go around the obstacle came running back. “One of those things is tied up there. We can’t go that way.”

  “Hope it doesn’t get loose,” chided Denver. “Hey which squad you guys with?”

  “First squad, third platoon, B company.”

  “B Company!” I’m catching up. “Good luck you guys.” He turned and hurried away down the trail. Life had not prepared him for what he saw next.

  There sitting on the ground was a young girl. She looked fourteen or fifteen. She appeared hurt and was busy using a stick to ward off one of those dinos. He stopped only for a moment, walked over, picked up as big a rock as he could, and brought it down on the creature’s head.

  It squealed and fell to the ground; blood began to flow from its mouth. “You all right?”

  “Never better, what took you so long?”

  “It was my sister’s birthday. I had to wrap her present. Can you walk?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Here, let me help you.” Denver carefully helped the girl to her feet. The ankle hurt, but she would live.

  “What happened?”

  “I guess I was still a little groggy from the whirling butt kicker. When I came around the bend, I looked up and saw our friend here. I must have tripped.

  “Come on hero, let’s get moving. Time is money here.” She began to limp away.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She flashed a smile. “You want a medal?”

  The unseen hand moved. “Mark this one as possible officer material. Tentatively pair these two. We’ll watch how they progress.”

  * * * *

  HUMAN TRAINING MANUAL – For The People Only: Male and female humans are to be trained and housed together in an effort to have them self-segregate as couples. Should one begin to weaken, the other can be expected to help pull the failing one through.

  Coupling that results in offspring is most desirable. These couples will be more apt to remain in the legion, and the offspring of these unions will have no other loyalty than to the legion. This way, should we ever lose our access to human fighters, we can make our own.

  Never make the mistake of thinking that the humans are only motivated by financial gain. While that might get them to go through the initial physical and mental screening or even to go off planet to begin the training, there are much stronger motivators.

  One of these is the protection of the human nuclear family. A fighter can be expected to face any danger and accept any hardship if he knows his family is safe and nearby.

  * * * *

  “Are you holding back because of me, hero?”

  “Not intentionally, but you have such a fondness for these creatures I wanted to let you have the next one as a pet. By the way, how did you get past the flying butt kicker?”

  She stopped and wiggled her foot. “I was a gymnast in school; took second in the province. It feels okay, come on.” With that she picked up the pace and was soon running.

  They stopped at the base of a cliff. “Okay, you were a gymnast, how did you get past it?”

  As they surveyed the cliff, she said, “I just took a run at it and leaped up like I did on the parallel bars and held on till I got across to the other side, simple. What about you? You a jock or something?”

  “No, I have zero athletic ability. I flung my belt over it. Went all the way around before I could get loose.”

  “I wish I could have seen that. It must have looked funny.”

  “Not from my perspective.”

  “Big word, you some kind of teacher?”

  “Yeah, in a small college.”

  “How did you wind
up here?”

  “I became an enemy of the state.”

  “How did you do that?” she asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It doesn’t take much these days.”

  “Are you sure you can haul yourself up that cliff? You aren’t that young and have a bit of a spread.”

  “Thanks for the observation. I’m 29, and I can handle it. I did do a bit of climbing. And how did you get in here; you don’t look that old.”

  “I’m 22.”

  “Or at least, that’s what you told them.”

  “I’m old enough,” she shot back.

  “This thing looks at least 50 feet tall,” he observed.

  “An American, I thought so. When are you people going to join the world?” Quickly she added, “Instead of trying to rule it.”

  “Hey kid, I don’t rule anything. Besides, no matter who you vote for, the same things keep happening. The people don’t seem to have much say in what Washington does.”

  “I’d call it maybe 15 meters.”

  “Just enough to break your neck but not enough to make a big mess for someone to have to clean up.”

  She chuckled. “That’s about right.”

  “And a good way to weed out those afraid of heights.”

  “You’re not afraid are you?” she asked.

  “No, but we should have ropes and carabiners. It would be safer.”

  “From what I’ve seen today, I don’t think our safety is their primary concern.”

  “No. I’m going to start here. Good luck.”

  “Good thing I cut my nails,” she joked.

  They both approached the route each had picked. He was strong, slow, careful, and skilled. She was light, quick, and probably wanted to beat him to the top.

  She sauntered over. “Need a hand hero or should I say, dad?”

  He ignored the jab. “Can you see how far back the rest are?”

  She peered the way they had come. “There are a few of them gaining on us. We had better get moving. We should have moved the sign.”