Hard Corps

by Paul Mannering

  The lack of certainty always left Noshi feeling unsettled. She needed a final truth to be discoverable at the summit of her journey. Why else would she keep going?

  Feedback through the ship’s systems confirmed she was in a static position between a much larger craft and a planet.

  Imaseru, the moment before change. Pizak would tell her that this was only detectable in hindsight. Noshi felt the weight of imaseru pressing in on her from all sides.

  With a deep breath, Noshi opened her mind to the data flow, filtering out everything irrelevant to Erik’s location. She took the coordinates of his last recorded position and guided the small ship into the dense atmosphere of the planet.

  II

  The ground shuddered underfoot, convulsing and rising up in a series of cracks and steaming fissures.

  “Erik, you asshole. What the fuck is happening in your sec?” Timber was almost laughing over the comms.

  “Serious shit,” Erik replied. The blasted range where the armored vehicles had been swallowed was filling up with a biological mass. To Erik it looked like the same creature or form that had dragged Axander’s vehicles and crew to their deaths.

  “The net is reporting a localized seismic disturbance.” Timber reported.

  “Sounds about right.”

  “You have eyes on AC Axander?”

  “Negative. AC Axander is down. Repeat, AC Axander is down.”

  “Well shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “My squad is ee-tee-ay ten. If you need us to wipe your noses and dry your fuckin’ tears.”

  “By all means, come over and see how it a real trooper wins the fucking war.”

  Timber did laugh that time. “We are inbound.”

  Erik ordered his own squad further back. The amorphous mass rising out of the ground had stopped swelling. The glistening surface seemed to be crystalizing as it dried in the air.

  “Silian.” Erik summoned the experienced trooper to his side.

  “Yes, First Trooper?”

  “Have you ever seen anything like that before?”

  “Negative, First Trooper.”

  Erik nodded. “We pull back another hundred meets and maintain surveillance.”

  “Hup.” Silian stepped back and shared the order with the rest of the squad.

  Erik headed into the shelter of the dead city, his squad spreading out around him. When he stopped, they started digging in.

  By the time the daylight had faded to gray dusk, Timber’s squad had arrived and their combined forces were dug in and maintaining a watch on the dome.

  “What the fuck is it?” Erik asked.

  “You know, from here, it looks like a big bubble of snot,” Timber observed.

  “What the fuck is it?” Erik asked again.

  “Sensor network is still gathering data.”

  Timber held out Erik’s helmet. “I fixed it. You should put it on. No point in letting everyone see how fucking ugly you are when you cry.”

  “Thanks and fuck you.” Erik took the helmet back. Only a few hours breathing unfiltered air and he was loathe to seal himself away again.

  Timber’s helmet stared at Erik until he sighed and slid it over his head. The locking ring slid into place and his suit re-pressurized. The HUD screens flickered and began to relay data. Squad updates, local terrain scans, data network feeds, all filling his senses with information. Erik felt like he had stepped into a crowded room after spending a day alone in the wilderness.

  “All good?” Timber asked.

  “Affirmative,” Erik replied. “This is reconnaissance team Argo-Typhon to Delta-Nova-Alpha. Requesting sensor sweep update on unknown biological.”

  “Data processing,” the computer-generated voice of the Diorite Commonwealth replied.

  “Let me guess, the bitch said data processing?” Timber cut in.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d like to give her some data to process.”

  Erik scowled and waited for an update in silence.

  “We can wait for the network to update, or we can go ahead and win the war,” Timber suggested.

  “Right, we should get some eyes on,” Erik signaled the unnecessary screens to close on his HUD and crawled out of cover, Timber sliding in the dirt behind him.

  Together the two recon troopers edged closer to the rising snot bubble.

  “It looks like some kind of krete matrix,” Erik said.

  “You think they spray it out in liquid form and it cures in the atmo?” Timber asked.

  “We’ve seen freakier shit. Cover me, I’m going to get a sample for analysis.”

  “Lookit you, goin’ all tech-badge and shit.”

  Erik didn’t reply. Neither he or Timber had qualified for anything more specialized than recon and killing the enemy. They had both seen humans working in technical. How they had been trained or assigned was a mystery to Erik. He had his own skills and so far, they had kept him alive.

  Crawling up to the lip of the crater, he used his suit sensors to scan the material close up. A pale, sponge-like material formed a diamond-shaped lattice. Each pane was filled with a translucent film. All the readings confirmed it was biological in origin.

  Erik poked the film with a gloved finger. It held with a rubbery resistance. Reaching down, he slid a knife out of his boot and pressed the gleaming tip against the film. It cut through and the helmet sensors warned him of a gas oozing through the gap.

  “Timber, this shit is pretty soft. It cuts easy.”

  “Copy that.”

  A slice was quickly stored in a container and sealed for transport to the orbital fleet.

  ”Don’t move.” The casual tone had gone from Timber’s voice. Erik froze.

  A shape moved on the other side of the dome—a Zaran with tentacles coiling around its spherical body. With a wet slapping sound, a tendril smeared over the hole, sealing it with a glistening goo.

  Erik waited until the shape slithered out of view.

  “I think it likes you.” Timber grinned.

  “Fuck you,” Erik replied, feeling the tension ease out of his muscles.

  The dome glistened under the last light of the setting sun, Erik and Timber remained still and waiting until full dark.

  “First Trooper Erik?” Clix came online.

  “Go ahead, Clix.”

  “I am receiving a message from the orbital command. They require you to know that a ship is coming down to the surface.”

  “Advise, message received.” Erik wondered what they had discovered for the Diorite Commonwealth to send a ship down from the orbital command fleet so quickly.

  The small shuttle craft came into view, sweeping over the dome and angling in a wide circle above the troopers dug into the ruins.

  Erik relied on his sensors to track the ship as it came in to land with a roaring hiss that sent dirt and debris swirling into the night sky.

  “Single pilot craft, DC authorized,” Erik transmitted to the troopers on the ground.

  “They must want this bad to send a single slug,” Timber said.

  “Could be a tech.”

  The ship went through its landing sequence and the side hatch hissed open. A single figure human figure emerged, wearing the light armored body suit and helmet of flight crew.

  “First Trooper Erik.” The voice in his comms had the same flat way asking questions without intonation that Diorites used.

  Erik stood, only his head visible above the edge of the hole he was in. “Present. We are dug in at two hundred meters on bearing nine-seven.”

  Timber took a position with his rifle resting on the dirt, tracking the humanoid pilot next to the ship.

  Keeping under cover, Erik moved to intercept the pilot. “I am First Trooper Erik.”

  The armored human turned on the spot and then swayed as the ground around them shuddered and lifted.

  “Get airborne!” Erik yelled. He didn’t wait to see if the pilot responded to his command. He started firing at the cracks spreading arou
nd the ship.

  The rest of his squad laid down supporting fire. The dirt around Erik sprayed up in plumes of dust and greenish gas. He backed away as the first giant tentacle slithered into view, adjusting his fire and shooting at the massive arm until the writhing appendage splatted at his feet, the twitching stump pumping thick blood into the air.

  “Cover fire! Cover fire!” Timber barked orders at the squad as the mammoth Zarans tore their way out of the ground.

  Erik backed up the slope towards the squad, no longer having to aim as he fired, the space in front of him filling with coiling tentacles. The Diorite shuttle rose above the waving tendrils and turned in a wide circle before unleashing a barrage of burning plasma that screamed towards the targets and exploded with a series of earth-cracking detonations.

  Erik ran towards the hole he had shared with Timber. The air behind him erupted in a ball of fire and the blast wave threw him the last steps.

  “Fuck yeah!” Timber howled.

  The shuttle came around for another strafing run. This time the plasma fire punched into the dome and the gas inside detonated in an explosion that pressed Erik and Timber into the deepest part of their foxhole. When the fire had evaporated into smoke and swirling ashes, flying sparks lit the night with new constellations of orange stars. Heaped mountains of giant Zaran flesh smoldered and slipped into the burrows they had emerged from.

  “Squad, make ready to move out!” Erik climbed out of his hole and checked the life signs on his people.

  The squad came out of their holes, scanning the area for more incoming attacks and waiting on his orders.

  “We’re going inside the dome, need to confirm what the Zarans are doing in there.”

  “Hup!” confirmed the squad’s readiness. In a practiced pattern they spread out and began to approach the smoking ruin.

  “The shuttle hasn’t landed again,” Timber said.

  “I know. I guess they didn’t like being this close to the real war.” Erik didn’t give a shit right now about any pilot. The concentration of Zarans and shit knows what else in this area was his only priority.

  Leading his squad, he stepped over the burning ring that was all that remained of the alien dome.

  The alien atmosphere had burned away and the ground inside the blackened disc sagged toward a central point.

  “Hold,” Erik ordered. “This does not look stable.” Cracking open a hard pouch on his suit, he withdrew a hex charge. Using his thumb, he armed the explosive and tossed it as far into the burnt area as he could.

  “Fire in!” Erik called out. The squad took cover. A second late the hex charge detonated, sending a fresh cloud of dirt raining down on them.

  “Big hole,” Erik said when they came forward to take a look at the result.

  The ground that had been subsiding after the destruction of the dome now collapsed completely. They could see a deep shaft that Erik’s sensors told him was a hundred meters across and twenty meters deep.

  “Movement,” Timber announced.

  “Copy that. Squad, we have multiple enemy contacts coming up. Take positions and get ready to repel.”

  The dark hole rustled with the noise of the Zaran legions boiling up out of the darkness.

  III

  There are now sufficient specimens to meet our needs within the network. Further development will result in a decreasing return. Even for the war, there are budgetary considerations. Time and resources. Network infrastructure and upkeep of the humans. For this reason, the Diorite Commonwealth Council of Elders has determined the probability of successful resolution of the war to be sufficiently high to end the human breeding program.

  Pizak contained the surge of conflicting emotions that rippled through his skin. Any display of such a primitive response would not be appropriate in front of Governor K’zyn.

  It is gratifying that the probabilities so many have worked to bring about have become certainty, Pizak replied.

  Your actions have been recorded and accepted, Administrator Pizak.

  Pizak allowed himself to project a sense of gratitude.

  The council’s attention has been drawn to your particular efforts regarding the Herald specimen. They require that it be placed in hub-control for direct analysis and observation of probability effects.

  Pizak’s sensory feelers quivered. Action was taken to direct the Herald to a quigola nexus location. Noshi is in place as the vectors indicate.

  Governor K’zyn sat in silence, regarding Pizak with the full range of his sensory apparatus. By what authorization was this action taken.

  With respect, Governor K’zyn. The probabilities are certain. Noshi is the Herald. She must be in position for the events that are to take place around her. Without her, much will be lost.

  K’zyn shifted away from the curving platform of his desk and crossed the room, drawing close enough to almost touch Pizak. The intimacy of this direct action startled and horrified the administrator.

  Pizak. There are elements you are not expected to be aware of. It seems I was mistaken to give you such independence in your work stream. I will do what I can to rectify your error.

  There it was—the carefully worded statement that made Pizak’s future a certainty. If the delicately constructed outcomes of a near-infinite number of probabilities collapsed, the blame would be directed at Pizak and Pizak alone.

  I understand.

  You are dismissed, Administrator Pizak. Await the outcome of your actions in whatever manner you see fit.

  Pizak left the governor’s office and barely acknowledged those he passed on his way back to the apartment he shared with Tosai and their offspring.

  He paused at the entrance to the complex. Tosai would not hesitate to merge her future with his; it was the bond they shared.

  Pizak considered the future outcomes. Without being involved, Tosai could continue on her path with minimum dissonance. Their shared offspring would be unmarked by his shame. It would be his yata, the impression each life left on the universe, alone that would be erased.

  He turned away from his family home and made his way to the nearest transfer station.

  IV

  Zarans fell back, vanishing into the pit as quickly as others climbed up and over their corpses. The barrel of the rifle in Erik’s hands glowed a dull red. He had locked his armored boots into position and switched out magazines in a steady and automatic motion.

  The dead formed a wall at the edge of the pit. Most of the dead went tumbling back into darkness, and a few rolled down to land in front of Erik’s feet. Still they kept coming, a flood of squirming flesh intent on tearing Erik and his troopers’ limb from limb.

  “Stay tight!” Erik yelled. He disconnected the locks on his leg armor and stepped back, condensing the squad into a tighter formation. The other troopers moved closer until they stood shoulder to shoulder, presenting a block of coordinated fire.

  A Zaran launched itself from the wall of alien corpses and landed on Clix. She went down firing. Slugs tore through the squirming body. Silian jerked his weapon down and fired until the Zaran came apart.

  Erik grabbed Clix’s hand and pulled her into a standing position. “Trooper Clix! Are you in the fight?”

  Clix jerked her hand free and slapped a fresh magazine into her weapon. She killed a Zaran as it crested the wall of bodies and Erik went back to the fight, matching her shot for shot.

  Against the opposing force, Erik’s squad had minimal chance. The troopers carried a thousand superstitions with them every day, everything from tapping a fresh magazine against the side of your helmet for luck before a battle, to not speaking the names of the fallen.

  The unspoken law among the troopers was to never consider your own death. There was only the moment, and that was filled with the enemy and their destruction. For Erik the moment was now framed by a cold certainty that this would be the last time he stood in battle.

  There was no lull in the Zaran assault, no pause in their charge. They kept coming from whatever
underground reservoir was spawning them in such numbers. Now there was nowhere Erik and his squad could retreat to. The piled dead formed an impassable barrier on all sides and the troopers continued to fire, building their tomb with the bodies of the slain Zarans.

  Awareness flooded through Noshi in a confusing torrent of sensations and data. She staggered, reaching out to find a grip on the ship’s structure at her back as the weight of so much communication washed over her.

  With fumbling hands, she opened the access panel to the ship and crawled inside. Focus. The way Pizak taught you. The command she gave herself stood like a rock in the swirling storm. Erik… Shaking her head to clear it, Noshi scrambled into the pilot seat and sent her small craft skyward.

  The shuttle turned under Noshi’s guidance until her weapons systems were aimed at the mass of creatures erupting from the ground.

  Weapons system online and engage confirmed enemy targets, she commanded the ship and the data flow confirmed the attack had begun in earnest.

  The results were devastating and when the internal atmosphere of the dome exploded, further scattering the fleshy debris of the massive Zarans, Noshi felt she had unleashed something apocalyptic.

  Directing the shuttle, she angled towards the edge of the atmosphere. She needed time to think, to calibrate the surge of data she had been hit with on the ground and to make sense of what she had connected with.

  Three slow breaths later, Noshi found the structure in the noise, a codified language unlike anything she had experienced before.

  Replaying the final moments when she had stood on the surface, she reviewed the sensation of pulses of light flashing through strange neurons deep beneath her feet. Bits of data that streamed across the living network and organisms moving in response to commands, and in turn, providing feedback to some greater mind.

  Noshi sorted through the flow of data, discarding the irrelevant and tracing the strongest signals back to their source.