Alien War Trilogy 3: Titan

by Isaac Hooke

  “The question is, why the hell did he wake up?” Fret said.

  “Probably because the nano-machines had taken over enough of his brain to cancel out the effects of the sedative,” Lui said. “Perhaps even creating a custom machine organ to secrete a counteracting agent.”

  “But why did his Titan allow him to gain control?” Manic said.

  “If the nano-machines took over his brain,” TJ said. “Then he would have the hacking knowledge of their entire species in his head. You remember what the lieutenant commander said about how they communicate with each other? Those tiny evaporating wormholes and all...”

  “I’m not sure I buy the whole wormhole thing,” Tahoe said. “But I do buy that they can communicate in ways we can’t.”

  “Communicate,” Lui said. “If that’s true, and Keelhaul has been communicating with them since he woke up, we should definitely pick up the pace. Because those aliens know precisely where we are.”

  “Assuming they even care anymore,” Trace said. “Oh sure, they might make a few attempts to shoot us down when the anti-aircraft defenses at the city detect our launches. But otherwise, why bother? We’re not a threat, not out here.”

  Rade hardly heard any of it.

  I killed him.

  “Well, we can’t use this rocket,” Snakeoil said. He was standing beside the booster. “Keelhaul poked holes in the fuel tanks. We’re lucky it didn’t explode. The fuel has been evaporating away all this time: there isn’t enough to achieve escape velocity. What do you want to do, boss?”

  Rade didn’t answer.

  “Boss?”

  “He’s obviously no longer fit for command,” Luxe said. “I’ll—”

  Hearing her voice finally snapped Rade out of it.

  “We move to the next rocket,” he said.

  “Do we carry Keelhaul’s body?” Lui said.

  “It’s not him anymore,” Tahoe said. “Remember that. The nano-machines are supposed to die when the body dies, but we don’t know how long that takes. Do we really want to risk that those machines might remain in contact with the enemy until then?”

  “He comes with us,” Rade said. “Mauler, port Keelhaul’s body.”

  No one contested him.

  The two Marines in Mauler’s passenger seat made room for the body.

  When Mauler had secured the corpse, Rade said: “Move out, people. Same formation. Lead the way to the next rocket, squad one.”

  nineteen

  And so the beaten-down group began the weary march to the next closest rocket. Rade scanned the horizon numbly, looking for signs of any incoming tangos. His mind kept drifting back to what he had done. The throbbing in his arm where he had cut out the subdermal occasionally flared up, but he welcomed it.

  I deserve pain.

  “You going to be okay?” Tahoe asked at one point over a private line.

  “Yeah,” Rade replied. “But please don’t give me another pep talk. I don’t think I can take it this time.”

  “But a pep talk is exactly what you need,” Tahoe said. “You did what you had to do back there. It wasn’t Keelhaul anymore.”

  “I know,” Rade said. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “No.” Tahoe paused. “You could have ordered us to shoot him instead.”

  “I couldn’t do that to you,” Rade said. “I had to be the one. The burden was mine to bear.”

  “Thank you, for that,” Tahoe said. “It’s a moment every leader fears, I think. When you’re faced with the terrible choice of sacrificing one of your own men, so that the others might live.”

  “But that’s just the thing,” Rade said. “He wasn’t even shooting to kill. I shot him down for nothing.”

  “You don’t know that his next shot wouldn’t have killed that Marine,” Tahoe said.

  “No,” Rade said. “And the not knowing is what’s eating me.”

  “Even if he thought he was helping us,” Tahoe said. “We would have had to kill him, or at the very least abandon him, at some point.”

  “I would have rather abandoned him, than killed him,” Rade said.

  “Even so, it was fairly obvious the machines controlled most of his mind. He woke up, after all. Despite the sedation.”

  “But that’s another unknown,” Rade said. “Maybe his Titan had used up all its sedative supplies. Did anyone bother to check?”

  They had left the immobile Titan behind with the first rocket. He doubted anyone had investigated the supply levels.

  “I’m sure the AI would have made an announcement if the supplies were low,” Tahoe said.

  “Then why didn’t it announce when he woke up?” Rade said.

  “That’s a good point. I’m starting to wonder if some of those nano-machines spread to the AI core.”

  “How?” Rade said. “They would have had to penetrate the jumpsuit first.”

  “That’s easy, just use the excretory system built into the jumpsuit,” Tahoe said. “It would only take a few nano-machines hitching a ride in the piss.”

  Rade suddenly laughed. “Sorry. I don’t know why but that image, and your word choices, well, it just made me laugh. But it is a scary thought. It almost makes me want to turn around and blow that Titan to smithereens.”

  “Maybe we should,” Tahoe said. “It’s still in range behind us.”

  Rade paused, then he gave the order for the platoon to concentrate fire on the abandoned Titan. Lasers and electrolasers penetrated the torso, obliterating the AI core.

  Then the march resumed. Tahoe tapped in on a private line soon thereafter.

  “Don’t kill yourself over his death, Rade,” Tahoe said. “That’s all I can say. If you’re going to lead us, you have to file away what happened. Shove it deep into the farthest recesses of your mind, and don’t let it resurface, maybe not ever again.”

  “I’m working on it,” Rade said.

  When the party reached the waypoint, Rade had the two squads once more assume defensive formations while Snakeoil exhumed the booster. “She’s good to go. Who’s first?”

  “The chief, of course,” Skullcracker said.

  Rade was reluctant to send up Facehopper first, especially in his incapacitated state. “No. He’s second. If anything goes wrong up there, I want someone fully conscious in the pilot’s seat.”

  “Well then make him a passenger,” Manic said.

  “Not for the first run,” Rade said. “Once I see someone successfully achieve orbit, then I’ll send the chief.”

  “But the first run might be the smoothest,” TJ said. “Before the aliens have a chance to train their anti-aircraft guns on us.”

  “I’ve made up my mind,” Rade said.

  “All right,” TJ said. “It doesn’t matter. You’re the boss. So who’s first then?”

  “We’ll draw straws,” Rade said.

  He selected the names of the mechs who had won the initial lottery and then executed the randomize app.

  “Fret, you’re up,” Rade announced. He zoomed in on the first squad from his overwatch position.

  “Well well well.” Fret stepped toward the booster. “I’m the first one off this shitcicle. Can’t say I’ll miss it. Good luck y’all. Don’t get all misty eyed at my departure.”

  “If we’re misty eyed,” Bender said. “It’s only because we’re stuck on this world while your ass gets to fly away.”

  “That’s as close to a declaration of love as you’ll get from him,” TJ said.

  Fret was securing his Titan to the booster. “Oh, Bender. I’m touched. I love you, too.”

  “Shut the hell up,” Bender said.

  The two Marines on Fret’s shoulders leaped down, as they weren’t part of the chosen group, leaving the other members of the Storming Amazons strapped into the passenger seat.

  “Harlequin,” Rade said. “See if you can find room for those two.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Harlequin replied. “If nothing else, they can hang onto the rungs of the leg a
nd torso regions of my Titan. Not the most comfortable traveling positions, but—”

  “Thank you, Harlequin,” Rade interrupted the Artificial. “Remember, Fret, fire evasive thrust all the way up. We have to assume that any intact ground-to-air defenses near the city will try to shoot you down. “

  “Oh I’ll fire them, don’t you worry,” Fret said. He sounded nervous.

  Rade didn’t blame him.

  “Are you ready to launch?” Rade asked.

  “My Titan was ready a while ago,” Fret said. “But I’ve been psyching myself up.”

  “Are your passengers secured?”

  “They are.”

  “Give him clearance, squad two,” Rade said.

  The members of squad two retreated, joining squad one.

  “Launch when ready,” Rade ordered.

  The booster nozzles ignited in pre-burn. Rade switched to the visual band and watched as the pre-burn became full burn and the Titan arose into the night.

  It had climbed maybe two hundred meters when the explosion came. There was no warning whatsoever. One moment the Titan and its attached booster were jetting ever higher, and the next a fireball consumed them both.

  Rade stared in shock as the fiery wreckage descended. He thought he spotted something jettisoning from it.

  He switched to the thermal band.

  Yes, a thermal signature jetted toward the party. The implant identified it as Fret, clad in his jumpsuit.

  “Well that didn’t quite go as planned.” Fret landed on Mauler’s mech and latched onto the rungs beside the cockpit.

  The wreckage slammed into the snow a hundred meters from them, producing another fireball.

  “Your passengers?” Luxe said urgently.

  “They’re not here?” Fret said.

  The blue dots of the passengers had vanished from the display with the initial explosion.

  “Paxon, Teeson, with me!” Luxe said.

  The three Marines jetted forward.

  “Split up,” Rade said. “We have to find them. Search pattern Omega.”

  “I found Gibbs,” a Marine transmitted a moment later. “What’s left of her didn’t live very long.”

  The badly burned body of the other Marine was recovered shortly thereafter. Fret’s Titan had protected him from the majority of the blast. The Marines, because of their positions in the passenger area, weren’t so lucky.

  “Did anyone detect any weapons fire?” Rade said when the bodies were found.

  “No,” Snakeoil said. “If the enemy fired a laser, the pulse rate was far too high to detect.”

  “Maybe they didn’t fire a thing,” Mauler said. “Maybe Keelhaul wasn’t lying, and the rockets are all booby-trapped.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Tahoe said.

  “We’ll know soon enough,” Rade said. “When we reach the next rocket, I want a thorough search performed. Something I should have ordered done in the first place.”

  “You couldn’t have known the booster was booby-trapped,” Tahoe said privately.

  “But I should have. And that’s the whole point.”

  Keep making mistakes.

  Rade turned toward the Marines. “Storming Amazons, load your dead.”

  Marines yielded their spots in the Titan passenger seats so that the dead could be ported, and the displaced riders found other places to latch onto the mechs, namely the rungs near the cockpit hatches.

  “What are we going to do about Fret?” TJ asked.

  Rade glanced at the soldier, who was clinging onto TJ’s mech, clad only in his jumpsuit.

  “Obviously he can’t stay outside like that for too long,” Rade said. “Not in this radiation.”

  “Too bad we shot up Keelhaul’s mech,” Mauler said.

  “There was a good chance it was compromised,” Tahoe countered.

  “One of you is going to have to deactivate your inner cocoon,” Rade said. “And let Fret shelter in the cockpit with you.” That meant giving up control of the Titan to the AI. “Any volunteers?”

  “I’ll do it,” Trace said.

  The hatch of his Titan fell open.

  Fret jetted across and clambered inside. “Thanks, bro.”

  When the cockpit sealed shut behind them, Bender said: “I always suspected those two were man loves.”

  “Notice how quiet they are in there?” Manic said. “Makes you wonder what they’re doing right now, in that warm, dark chamber.”

  “I don’t want to know,” TJ said.

  “They don’t call it a cock-pit for nothing,” Bender said.

  “Ooo Trace baby,” Fret said. “I didn’t know you were so big.”

  “All right, quit fooling around,” Rade said. “Have some respect for those we just lost.”

  “Sorry, boss,” Fret said.

  “Have you transferred control of your mech to the AI, Trace?” Rade asked.

  “I have,” Trace responded.

  “Good. Let’s proceed.”

  At the next booster, Snakeoil performed a thorough search.

  “It’s booby-trapped all right,” Snakeoil said.

  “You’re sure?” Rade asked.

  “Positive. Have a look.”

  Rade switched to his viewpoint. Snakeoil’s Titan was lying in the snow, shining his headlamp up into one of the nozzles. Several small blocks had been attached to the inner surface. Snakeoil highlighted them in green with his Implant.

  “See the explosives?” Snakeoil asked.

  “I see them,” Rade replied.

  “Somehow a part of Keelhaul got through to us,” Mauler said. “Despite the nano-machines controlling his mind.”

  Hearing that made Rade feel even worse.

  Killed my own brother. Who was only trying to help us.

  He suppressed the thought.

  Shove it deep into the farthest recesses of your mind.

  “Can we remove those charges?” Rade asked.

  “Don’t think so,” Snakeoil said. “Not without detonating them.”

  “We have to try,” Trace said.

  “We can evacuate one of our Titans,” TJ said. “Use it as a bomb disposal unit.”

  “Yeah right,” Bomb said. “Who among us is going to willingly sacrifice their Titan like that?”

  Rade used the randomize application once again. Bomb lost.

  The Marines Bomb was carrying were distributed among the remaining Titans. Bomb himself took shelter in Mauler’s cockpit.

  TJ took remote control of Bomb’s evacuated mech and began the delicate process of disarming one of the charges.

  About fifteen minutes into the job, TJ said: “I can’t disarm them.”

  “Are you sure?” Rade said.

  “I tried all my escalation hacks first,” TJ said. “Then I drilled a hole inside and removed the case. The design is familiar enough for me to recognize that if I tamper with it further, it will detonate. Also, there’s a mercury vial attached to the trigger. A motion sensor. If I try to remove the charge, it will blow up. We’ll lose the booster, and the mech.”

  Rade exhaled. “It looks like none of us are getting off this planet after all. Bomb, get back in your mech.”

  “I bet one of my Amazons can disarm it,” Luxe said.

  “If TJ says he can’t disarm it, no one can,” Rade said. “I’m assuming you want your Amazon to get up close and personal with the charge?”

  “That would be a good assumption,” she replied.

  “I can’t allow them to take the risk.”

  “Even if they’re willing?” Luxe pressed.

  “We’ve lost enough lives for today wouldn’t you agree?”

  “You’d rather remain stranded here, than even try?” she said.

  “I already told you,” Rade said. “If TJ says it can’t be disarmed, then it can’t. Besides, if the UC has failed in orbit then it won’t matter if we launch a few of us into space anyway. On the other hand, if the UC has prevailed, or is close to doing so, then a rescue party will
be coming any time now. Bomb: your mech.”

  “What about the other boosters?” Luxe asked.

  “We’ll check them,” Rade said.

  After Bomb returned to his Titan, Rade ordered the party to the next three booster rockets in turn. Each of them contained hidden charges. Like the first, TJ couldn’t disarm any of them.

  “So what now?” Manic said.

  “There’s not much more we can do,” Rade said. “We move far away from here, and hope the UC finds a way to contact us soon.”

  “What’s that?” TJ said.

  Rade looked to the north. He saw a fireball streaking through the sky.

  “I think it’s one of our shuttles,” Snakeoil said.

  twenty

  Rade watched the streak of light tear across the sky. “What makes you so sure it’s one of ours?”

  “I’m reading a very faint distress signal from the comm node,” Snakeoil said. “It’s barely piercing the interference. There’s not enough bandwidth to attempt a return message, I’m afraid.”

  “Can you be certain the distress call isn’t some enemy spoofing attempt?” Rade said.

  “No,” Snakeoil admitted.

  A moment later the fireball vanished over the horizon. A brighter glow momentarily lit the sky there, then it faded.

  “There goes our rescue party,” Fret said.

  “Snakeoil,” Rade said. “Calculate the impact site.”

  “Got it.”

  The site appeared on the overhead map.

  “It’s fifty kilometers to the northeast,” Snakeoil said.

  “Worth investigating?” TJ said.

  “If we can salvage the comm node,” Rade said. “We might be able to communicate with the fleet.”

  “Didn’t Snakeoil say the distress barely pierced the interference?” Manic asked. “And that there wasn’t enough bandwidth to send a return message? That means even if the comm node is intact, I’m guessing it’ll be useless to us.”

  Rade smiled sadly, though no one saw because of the layers of metal enclosing the cockpit. “I did say might. Who knows, maybe we’ll be able to contact other nearby ground troops if the comm node proves undamaged. Either way, it’s our duty to search for survivors. Let’s march, people. We make for the impact site. Traveling overwatch, single file.”