Battle On The Marathon

by John Thornton

  Bread’s geography was somewhat different from Kansas, as it consisted of rolling hills and fields which covered the land on each side of that central river. That wide river ran the length of the biome, directly parallel to the sky tube far overhead. Small tributaries ran perpendicular to the river and joined it. Those streams, or tributaries as the locals called them flowed down from where forests grew along the perimeter of the biome. Those forests were roughly a hundred meters higher in elevation than the river, but as I said, there were rolling hills between the river and the forest at the biome’s edge. Vast fields of wheat, rye, sorghum, millet, corn, rice, barley, quinoa, and other grains crops stretched as far as I could see. My Kansas-raised eyes told me all the crops were in need of rain. Which again confirmed that something was wrong. For the biomes automatically responded to the needs of the specialized and hybridized crops to make for spectacular harvests. Someone had told me once that the biomes on the Marathon were the most biologically efficient ecosystems ever. Rain-day should come once every ten days. Well, that was before the Jellies started their battle against us. Now the crops were dying of thirst, or being poisoned by what was in the ground water. I doubted that the people of Bread were any better off than the crops, but at least the people had somewhere to go. The crops, flora, and fauna did not.

  Theoretically, the trip should have been straight forward as the road ran along alternating sides of the river, with bridges spanning the river, every five or so kilometers. So, the mission was simple, just travel five kilometers on the starboard side, cross the bridge and continue the trek on the port side for five kilometers to the next bridge. Just repeat that until we reached the far end and the town of Arcadia. It would have been serene had I not wondered what was lurking in the depth of that large river. It reminded me too much of the sea in Foreigner. Something was amiss, the river looked clear, but looked forlorn and abandoned. It was creepy in its isolation from what should have been a living, diverse, and active ecological system.

  “Soldiers,” Lieutenant Gonzales announced, “we will be crossing sixteen bridges on this mission. Be especially alert at those places. The Jellies hide in water, and I would expect an attack to come up from the river. But that is not the only place to watch for our enemies. Remember, they were alive and well in a vacuum without gravity in that hanger bay. Sergeant Kalju also saw them tunnel in the ground. Be alert to anything. We will rotate our squads off of shield duty at each bridge. Squads not on shield duty spread out in two directions. Make sure there is a line of soldiers near the river as our first defenses, but also another squad spread out beyond the road and hiking parallel to us, keeping alert for where the Jellies might be approaching or hiding from out in the biome. No surprises on this mission.”

  The first bridge crossing was uneventful. We went across in small groups, and then sent the horses and the wagon, surrounded by the soldiers on shield duty. Of course, Samuels and the recon team had already crossed some time before and I saw the modified macroactinide capacitor enhancer which they had set up. It was at the height of the bridge, and just sat there doing its job keeping our communication lines intact.

  Just as we reached the far side, was when I heard an explosion.

  Kaboosh!

  “This is Samuels! We have encountered a Jellie in the river. Dropped an amvex on it! It never fired at us! Hurrah! Splash one Jellie!”

  “Good work. I see you are at bridge six,” Lieutenant Gonzales stated. “Press on and get all the macroactinide capacitor enhancers set up.”

  My own display in my helmet showed me the map of the road, bridges, and the two towns at either end of the river. Samuels team was shown as small lights on that display.

  After crossing that bridge, we rotated squads and the ones riding the wagon were relieved, I kept thinking about the mission, and was haunted by the acoustic sonic thing that had happened in the hanger bay with my audio system. I wondered how the Jellies had known our communication methods, or if it was just some broadly applied disruption.

  As the next squad was getting ready to step onto the wagon, I approached it. “Evan? What special needs or accommodations do we make for your horses?”

  The old man looked at me strangely, “Is that you Calhoun? In your armor, you all look so much alike, and your voice comes out strange and machine-like. You all sound just the same to my old ears.”

  “It is I, Kalju,” I nearly pulled off my helmet, but refrained from doing that. “If I set a different shade of color on my armor, will that help you know which one is me?”

  “It would help, but all you heroes are nice enough,” Evan replied.

  I adjusted the reactive armor so that my own suit was a different shade. It was more gray with less brown or green mixed in, it was called Mora 1. I never considered what might happen with me being a different color scheme from the rest of the soldiers.

  “Thank you, hero, Kalju. My horses only need occasional clean water, and I have a tank of that on the wagon. Well, they need their feedbags as well. I brought those with enough food. I will strap them on when we change over at the next bridge.”

  With the squads switched, we continued onward. The squads not on shield duty spread out or walked down by the river’s bank. We proceeded onward. I was again struck by the lack of wildlife. In Kansas, I would have seen flocks of birds—of various different kinds—maybe even some ringnecks who were in among the crops. There would also probably have been some deer running through the fields. I expected to see them raise their wary head and peer at us from out in the crops, but I saw nothing like that. I was alert to any movement, any shifting in the plants, or any signs of a threat. All I saw was the gentle rustling of the parched grains in the empty breezes. The lack of sound was also creepy. The horses’ hooves made a plodding noise, but the soldiers moved quietly along, especially those spread out away from the river.

  I monitored the full-unit frequency and while some of the soldiers were talking quietly, there was not much discussion or conversation there. Those talks involved more a pointing out of possible suspicious activity and a confirmation or explanation from someone who had a different perspective.

  Listening to them, I felt like an outsider—a foreigner to use the insult the Red Guard had thrown at me—and yet, I also felt like part of the unit.

  “Sergeant Kalju? There is a stream coming in on the opposite bank,” one of the soldiers reported. He was out front and along the river’s bank. “I cannot get a clear view from my optics, but it looks brown. I think it does, but would you confirm?”

  “I will check it out, keep alert,” I responded on the private frequency. I looked around and saw the tallest of the rolling hills nearby. Racing to that, I gained that vantage point. Looking across the river, which was a bit more than a kilometer wide, I zoomed in with my own optics and the view crystalized in my helmet’s display. The water coming into the river was darker and that was diffusing out from the conflux of the two water passages. Downstream the brown was less noticeable.

  I switched to the full-unit frequency. “Attention! On the far side, poisoned water has been sighted and confirmed. The next bridge crosses about a half kilometer beyond that spot. Keep alert as we cross.”

  As the leading soldiers got to that second bridge, Senior Lieutenant Gonzales ordered them to cross and investigate the tributary. They did not get that far before they were attacked.

  The purple glow erupted in the water, and almost immediately a number of white globes flew from that location. The closest soldiers dove for cover. Icy white detonations peppered them with shrapnel. I could see it bouncing off their reactive armor, and they opened up with their bullpups.

  “Cease fire! Save ammunition!” Gonzales commanded. “Only fire when they are in effective range and out of the water. Pull back and let them come out of the water.” She was standing on the middle of the bridge with a squad around her. The soldiers on the river bank near me were intently watching the firefight which was across the river.

  “Outside squad
! Watch the biome! Beware of a diversion!” I commanded.

  The purple glow in the water disappeared.

  “Get the wagon across the bridge now!” Gonzales commanded. “Kalju, keep your squad back and be our rear and guard as we cross.”

  Evan snapped the reins and the two fine horses sped up. They trotted onto the bridge with gusto.

  I halted my forward progress and watched from behind. That was a different direction then where we had spotted the Jellie, but I trusted the Lieutenant.

  As the wagon cross the bridge and was nearly off on the other side, the purple light came on again, but this time it was on my side of the river and directly under the bridge. Tentacles lashed up and out of the water, and pulled the globe-shaped Jellie over the side and onto the bridge.

  Zing! Zing! Zing! Zing!

  Several enpols fired from behind the wagon, and some of those energy bursts missed the Jellie and struck around where my squad and I were standing.

  I joined the battle and returned fire with my bullpup, since I was less than a hundred meters from the enemy. I did not want to use the enpol, and I was unsure if I would hit the wagon, horses, Evan, or the precious cargo. The Jellie let fly two white globes which detonated into the bridge itself, ripping chunks, cables, and pavement away. The soldiers on shield duty kept their position, as the wagon sped away, the horses now galloping in fear.

  “Grenades!” someone cried out.

  Plop! Plop!

  The explosions took place right where the Jellie had been, but it had rolled over the side of the bridge and dropped to the water below. We rushed forward, hoping to get more shots at the fleeing enemy, but the purple glow was gone, and the water below the bridge looked cloudy, but no sign of the Jellie was seen.

  Someone fired several energy bolts into the water, and it steamed up where they struck, but I doubted they did anything except evaporate a good bit of water.

  “Cross the bridge!” I commanded. “We will keep to the mission.” I sorely wanted to chase that Jellie, wherever it had gone, but I resisted that. “Keep the unit together, no stragglers, no running after them. Not yet!”

  We crossed without further incident, but the horses were badly winded and terrified. Lieutenant Gonzales had moved with the wagon, and the procession was about a half kilometer along the roadway away from the bridge. Surrounding the wagon was the shield of soldiers, and then a layer of soldiers running along.

  “My horses need water and food!” Evan cried out. He was having trouble getting the panicked horses under control.

  As we all ran along, finally two soldiers got in front of the wagon, and by gently caressing the horses, they slowed down to a walk, and finally to a stop. By then we were about two kilometers away from that bridge and a good distance—maybe three kilometers—from the next bridge. I spotted a farmstead nestled among the rolling hills. There was a two-story farmhouse, a machine shed, and a wooden barn. At that point, Bread reminded me a bit of Queen. The rolling hills of both were so different from the Kansas’ flat lands which looked like they went on forever. Well, we made for that farmstead.

  A yellow automacube, its six drive wheels dusty and grimy was just exiting from that wooden barn. I was surprised to see that.

  “We have habitat dwellers here!” the closest soldier to that barn reported. “Hiding in this barn. Lieutenant Gonzales? What do we do with them?”

  Three men, four women, and about a dozen small children stepped out from the barn. They were dressed a lot like our family back in Kansas. It made me so homesick for you and my sisters. I wanted to wipe my face, but my helmet blocked the way, and besides, the tears were soaked up by my armor just like the sweat always was. I knew I would be drinking that again, along with my urine, spit, and any other body fluids when they had gone through the recycler.

  One man, who was in late middle age, with gray hair and a tight mustache stepped forward. “This is our farm, and I know we were told to leave it. The transport automacube has repeated the instructions over and over, but you did not need to send out the military to evict us. We will just stay here until all the troubles are over.”

  He seemed to be directing his comments toward me, and I then understood that only my armor looked different. But Lieutenant Gonzales rushed over and pulled her helmet off.

  “I am Senior Lieutenant Gonzales, the leader of these soldiers. We are not here to evict you. I was told all the inhabitants were being moved to safety. We are on a different mission.”

  Kaaa-vooomph!

  At that point, the machine shed to the side exploded in an immense blast of icy white spray. Its permalloy frame withstood the blast, but the softer metals like steel were shredded by the Jellie’s bombardment. Fragments, dust, and clots of melting munitions rained down on the farmstead.

  With his hand over his head, the man rushed toward Gonzales. “We will go!”

  “You will be leaving immediately!” Gonzales said and put her helmet back on. Her armor suddenly changed to the same pattern I had used for mine. “Dietermeyer! You take the ten soldiers who I anoint and hustle these people out of here as fast as possible,” Gonzales ordered. She knelt down and made some adjustments to the back of the yellow machine. “I am cross loading the parameters from this transport automacube into your suits. These people are to go to the nearest evacuation point. That is just over eight kilometers to the port side. Get them safely out of here and then cut cross country to meet us at Arcadia. Do not engage the Jellies unless you have to. These people must escape.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant!” Dietermeyer snapped back. “Thank you for the anointing!”

  I could hear a smile in his voice, even through the suit’s communication system. I would learn later that he and Lieutenant Gonzales had a secret joke about the difference between an appointing and an anointing.

  I fully expected more bombardments, and was anxious about when the next one would go off.

  “Troopers, on me. Habitat dwellers, line up. We will physically carry the children to make better time!” Dietermeyer announced. “We are leaving now!”

  “No need to carry the children, we have a wagon,” the older man said, “in the barn. It can be pulled by the automacube. We really should have left already. I apologize for not listening to instructions. I was stupid not to listen.”

  “Detail, you heard the man. Find that wagon, get it hitched to the automacube here, and get these people loaded. Move it troopers! Move! We will be delivering these people, and then getting back. We do not want to miss the battle by the river.”

  The ten soldiers under his command efficiently arranged things, and only moments later the dispatch of soldiers, led Dietermeyer, took off at a fast pace. The yellow transport automacube was pulling the wagon with all the adults, teenagers, and children on it. Three soldiers stood on each side of that wagon, doing their own version of shielding, this time for humans.

  Meanwhile, Evan the Drayman had fed and watered his own horses.

  Kaaa-vooomph!

  Another bombardment landed, but this one was on the far side of the farm, just blasting a large circle of crops into oblivion. It did rattle my nerves and brought back—shall I say, unpleasant—memories.

  “Lieutenant? Sergeant? Recon has finished with the macroactinide capacitor enhancer placements. Checked out the area. Arcadia is nearly vacant. The habitat dwellers are clearing out fast. Those Bread Baker soldiers are efficient, but not staying around,” Samuels voice came through the links.

  “Good work. Find a secure spot and provide us with covering fire. I think we may be coming in fast,” Lieutenant Gonzales answered. “Be advised, Dietermeyer has a detail on a side mission. He will be coming to your position via a different route than the main road. Cover their approach as well.”

  “Understood. Bridge sixteen is higher and wider than the others, we will set up defensive positions,” Samuels replied.

  Gonzales walked over and again pulled her helmet off. She spoke so quietly to Evan the Drayman, that I did not hear what was s
aid. I imagine she wanted privacy. Evan looked none-too-happy, but nodded.

  We again switched positions, and a different group rode along as shields. The horses trotted at a faster clip than before. Remembering what horses could do, I knew that they would not be able to maintain that pace for the whole rest of the journey, but maybe these animals were more hardy than the horses I knew from Kansas.

  I personally scouted out the third bridge, but there was nothing there. We all crossed that one without incident. Then turned and continued onward. We were spread out more because of Dietermeyer and the others being gone.

  The fourth bridge was much the same, although the water was murky, and we assessed it even more carefully. Yet nothing showed.