by Isaac Hooke
He expected Luxe to contest him but she remained silent. Without a troop carrier, the Titans provided the only effective means of transport across the deep snow available for her team, after all. And he supposed she considered the chance of a comm node better than the alternative of sacrificing one or more of her Marines to failed booster disarm attempts.
When they were five kilometers away, the weak thermal glow of the crash site appeared on the distant horizon.
“Is the wreckage still smoldering?” Rade asked. Like the wound in my arm.
“Impossible,” TJ said. “Not at this temperature. What we’re seeing has to be a power source of some kind.”
“That’s a good sign, right?” Fret said.
“Maybe,” TJ replied.
Two kilometers out, Snakeoil said: “I’m picking up the distress signal again. It’s far weaker than before... I don’t think it’s coming from the comm node. And that power source seems far too small to belong to the shuttle. Looks like something else survived the crash.”
A hundred meters out from the wreckage, Rade had squad one proceed forward while he remained behind with squad two in overwatch. The first squad proceeded to secure the crash site.
“We’ve found a Centurion here, boss,” Bender said. “What’s left of it, anyway. The AI is still active. The robot managed to salvage a few batteries from the shuttle to boost its distress signal.”
“That would also explain its thermal profile,” Tahoe interjected. “Relatively bright, for a robot of the class.”
“Anyway,” Bender continued. “It’s asking to speak to our commanding officer.”
“Pipe it through,” Rade said. “And put it on an open channel. No secrets, here.”
“Are you the CO?” a mellifluous female voice said.
Rade frowned. That was a strange choice for the voice of a combat robot: it could sing you a lullaby while shooting you to death. “I am. You’re speaking to LPO Rage, commanding officer of Alpha Platoon, MOTH Team Seven.”
“And Sergeant Luxe, B Company, 1st Battalion 37th,” Luxe said.
“Excellent,” the Centurion replied. “You can deliver my message. First of all, how much do you know of the battle space to the north?”
“Not a whole lot,” Rade said. “Most of us didn’t make the southern drop site, and those that did were nearly obliterated to the last man and woman. Any updates on the battle space are greatly appreciated.”
“You were involved in the first wave sent to ABS?” That was the code for the southernmost city. It stood for Alien Base: South.
“Yes,” Rade said.
“Ah. A second wave was dispatched shortly thereafter, when the debris of your drop crafts was detected. Several decoys were employed, allowing the second wave to enter the atmosphere on the opposite side of the planet, which proved lightly defended. The troop shuttles skimmed the surface, hugging the ground as they proceeded westward for several hundred kilometers, finally landing safely twenty kilometers to the target. The troops traveled the rest of the way overland via armored carriers to ABN”—Alien Base: North—”where they deployed around various tunnels detected from orbit. Each of the battalions was assigned a different tunnel, with orders to explore the depths and terminate any enemies holed up inside—we believe the aliens escaped the nuclear blasts by hiding deep underground.”
“Why didn’t your craft take the same overland route?” Rade asked. “Why try to land here when the enemy anti-air defense systems are still active in the area?”
“We intended to,” the robot replied. “We even had decoys. But unfortunately, while the shuttle was proceeding to the far side of the planet, it was hit by a lucky ground-to-space attack. I say lucky, because the heavy cloud coverage prevented the AI from responding in time. We were forced to crash land here.”
“What’s the status of the fleet?” Rade asked.
“The fleet has been forced to retreat to a higher orbit, due to the continuous ground-to-space attacks.”
“And because of that higher orbit, you can’t punch through the interference down here, am I correct?” Rade said.
“You are correct.”
“So the UC sent you down, resorting to the old-fashioned courier system to get its message through,” Rade said. “And you want us to be your replacement.”
“Also correct.”
“So what’s the message, and to whom do we deliver it?”
“The 2nd Battalion 29th has been besieging a tunnel in the southeastern quadrant of the ABN area,” the Centurion transmitted. “About fifteen klicks from the outskirts of said city. The fleet has recently detected abnormally high thermal readings coming from the tunnel. That, among other reasons, has caused the senior command to believe the alien command and control center resides within. I’m transmitting the location.”
Bender vetted the incoming location data for any viruses, and then transmitted it on to Rade.
Rade accepted and the coordinates appeared on his HUD. The location was about a hundred kilometers north of his current position, and like the robot had said, fifteen kilometers to the southeast of the northernmost alien city, ABN.
“That’s ten hours away,” Rade said.
“Yes,” the Centurion said.
“What’s the message you want me to deliver to the 2nd Battalion 29th?” Rade asked.
“Tell them to use whatever means necessary to take that command and control offline.”
“We can certainly do that,” Rade said. “But I presume you have the necessary command authorization codes to prove these orders are real?”
“I do. Transmitting now.”
Once more Bender intercepted the request first, then sent it on to Rade.
A moment later a message flashed on his HUD:
Command authorization valid.
Rade nodded. “Your codes are good. But tell me, what happens if the battalion succeeds in destroying the command and control?”
“The fleet scientists believe the interference will cease,” the robot replied. “And we will therefore be able to better coordinate with our boots on the ground to target the remaining defenses.”
“Seems a bit of a leap of faith to me,” Rade said. “What makes the scientists so confident the interference will end with the destruction of that particular command and control?”
“The interference is strongest in the area immediately surrounding that tunnel.”
“Ah.” Rade considered what the robot was saying for a moment. “Tell me why the fleet can’t target the air-to-space defenses right now? From orbit? Why the reliance on the boots?”
“The tunnel system extends far beyond ABN,” the Centurion replied. “With openings scattered throughout this entire side of the planet. The air-to-space defenses of the enemy are mobile: a turret battery will emerge from an opening and fire for several moments, and then vanish, only to appear again from a different opening a few minutes later. There are at least a hundred mobile turrets roving back and forth like that. Probably more.”
“So eventually we’ll have to sweep the tunnels,” Rade said.
“Some other Marine battalions are working on that,” the Centurion replied. “But again, coordinating with the fleet would help matters. Who knows? Perhaps shutting down the command and control will deactivate those subsidiary defenses as well.”
“If only we can be so lucky,” Manic said.
“Luck.” Rade nearly spat the word. “It hasn’t been on our side lately. Tell me something, Courier: why hasn’t the fleet simply nuked the command and control?”
“Besides the fact that a Marine battalion is now in the way?” the robot asked. “Because of the thermal distribution pattern of the surrounding openings, and the radiation dispersal of the interference, the scientists believe the command and control is embedded deep underground. A nuke won’t reach it.”
“Use a digger nuke,” Manic said.
“Apparently all of those variants were expended in the first strike,” the Centurion said.
“Too bad,” Manic said. “This war could have been ended by now, otherwise. Some of these fleet higher ups aren’t too smart, are they? ‘Restraint’ isn’t a part of their vocabularies. Once they start dropping nukes, they get excited and can’t help themselves, unleashing everything they have until even the reserves are gone.”
“This is a classic example of why AIs should be running the UC,” Harlequin said. “An AI would have kept digger nukes in reserve.”
“Well it’s done now isn’t it?” Rade said. “And we have to deal with it. Courier, is there anything else you’d like us to relay to the battalion?”
“Only that, it’s possible the Sentience that leads the aliens will be present in that tunnel,” the Centurion said. “It is of the highest priority that the Marines capture or kill that Sentience. Otherwise, a new command and control will eventually crop up.”
“Do we know what this Sentience looks like?” Rade asked.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“So wait,” Lui said. “The scientists are moving from the Hive Mind theory to the Central Mind variant?”
“I don’t think the scientists ever told us exactly what their theories were,” Tahoe said. “They’ve kept us guessing all along.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Rade said. “We’ll just tell the Marines that if they see a big, bad alien resembling a brain, they should take it out.” Rade regarded the Titans of squad two who had remained on overwatch with him. “Looks like we have another mission.”
“We just escaped one of their dens,” Fret said. “And now you want to go right back to another one?”
“Wooyah,” Skullcracker said.
“We’re simply delivering a message,” Rade reminded them.
“But the lieutenant colonel or whoever is in charge will want our help, no doubt,” Trace said. “Especially if we offer it.”
“And we will offer it,” Tahoe said. “We’ve been on the run, on the defensive, for too long. It’s time to take the fight to the enemy. It’s time to move to the offensive for once.”
“Agree completely,” Bender said. “Let’s kick their collective asses. It’s payback time. For Grappler, Keelhaul, and Facehopper.”
“Facehopper isn’t dead yet,” Lui reminded him.
“No,” Bender said. “But I still want payback. It’s their fault he received that radiation dose.”
“Let’s move out,” Rade said. “Before company arrives. We can’t be the only ones who saw that shuttle crash. Can the robot come with us?”
“Don’t think so,” Bender said. “It’s midsection is fused to the wreckage. If we try to pull the robot away, I believe its body will fall apart.”
“Leave me,” the Centurion said. “I plan to activate my self-destruct mechanism when enemy units arrive, and terminate as many of them as I can.”
“You’re a heroic one, aren’t you?” Rade said.
“It’s simply my programming, LPO,” the combat robot replied.
Rade recalled squad one, then dispatched the Titans north toward the new waypoint. He kept the squad separations, and the single-file traveling overwatch formation through the deep snow.
“How do we know for sure that this isn’t some grand deception staged by the aliens?” Manic said shortly after beginning the march. “They could have programmed that Centurion to say those things, and then shot down their own shuttle. They could be playing us for all we’re worth.”
“Why bother to go through all that trouble?” Rade said.
“Maybe they want to capture us really bad,” Manic said.
“Or maybe the fleet really did detect the source of the interference,” Tahoe said. “And the command and control center along with it.”
“That’s another option,” Manic agreed. “But it’s also possible the aliens simply decided to tell us where to find their command and control.”
“What?” Bender said. “That’s got to be the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, bitch.”
“Bender’s right,” Lui said. “Why would they tell us where to find their command center?”
“Makes it all the easier to capture us,” Manic said. “Or who knows, maybe there’s actually a human forward operating base hidden deep underground or something, and the aliens want to trick us into destroying it.”
“You’re ever the conspiracy theorist, aren’t you?” Rade said. “But I’m not convinced.”
“We’ll know for sure when we arrive,” Manic said. “If there’s no 2nd Battalion 29th waiting for us, I’d say it’s a probably a good idea for us to turn around and hightail it out of there.”
“Moccasin, update me on the chief’s status,” Rade said.
“Chief Facehopper is still stable,” Moccasin replied.
“Can he survive the ten hour march?”
“Yes,” Moccasin said. “My earlier estimate of twenty-four hours still stands. Though only twenty-two hours remain, now. He will need to return to a properly equipped starship before then if he is to survive.”
“Maybe the battalion’s medical unit can do something to prolong that time,” Rade said.
“Maybe,” Moccasin agreed.
After five hours of traveling due north through the snow, Rade directed the group to the northwest, and eventually they came alongside the trench the UC digger nukes had carved into the ground between the two cities. Morning had come to the alien world by then, the sun shining weakly in the overcast sky, so that Rade was able to switch back to the visual band for a detailed view of the devastation the nukes had wrought. It had appeared as a small gash on the overhead map, but up close that “trench” was a vast valley, four kilometers in width. Snow covered the bottom, but the ragged sides were partially visible where it was too steep for any drifts to cling. Those bare cliff faces glistened in the muted sunlight, their edges turned to black glass by the terrible power of the nuclear yields. The rad levels were extremely high.
“The wonders of digger nukes,” Fret said.
Bender picked out a tunnel opening at the bottom of the valley. That, along with the high radiation levels, made Rade decide it was best to give the place a wide berth. He ordered the two squads to move away until the valley was a dark line in the distance.
After the tenth hour on the march through that white wasteland, they closed with the waypoint. The pain in his arm had begun to abate by that point, but it still flared occasionally, depending on how he moved his fist or squeezed his fingers.
Three kilometers away, Mauler, who was on point in squad one, said: “I see something.”
twenty-one
Rade switched to Mauler’s point of view and zoomed in. He discerned several armored carriers arranged in a broad circle: a combat outpost of some kind. Mauler ran his gaze across the snowpack beside those carriers. The bodies of hornheads and other bioengineered creatures began to litter the ground, becoming thicker as Mauler continued, until the corpses became so dense that they formed neat, ever higher stacks. He spotted some robot body parts in the mix, but he couldn’t make out the class. Definitely wasn’t UC, though.
Those stacks abruptly dropped away, descending into an ominous black tunnel. ATLAS mechs stood guard next to the opening, the dead forming ramparts around them.
“Snakeoil,” Rade said. “Announce us as soon as you get a signal.”
“Will do,” Snakeoil answered.
“Now do you believe it’s not a trap, Manic?” Rade said.
“Maybe,” Manic replied. “But they could all be infiltration units for all we know.”
As the lead squad grew closer, Snakeoil said: “The lieutenant colonel sends his greetings. He wants to see you and Sergeant Luxe in the command tent as soon as you arrive.”
Marines in jumpsuits patrolled the outer perimeter of the outpost; a few nodded as the lead squad passed, but most regarded the Titans suspiciously from behind their faceplates.
“Disgusting things,” Bender said at one point. “Look like giant centipedes, but with alligator heads. Gatorpedes.”
<
br /> Rade switched to Bender’s viewpoint in squad one and saw that he had zoomed in on a pile of dead. The corpses looked precisely as Bender had described them, complete with hundreds of tiny legs and sharp rows of teeth. Their bodies were curled up and crimped around one another in death. The snowpack was black around the bodies, probably indicating where alien blood had spilled.
Squad one approached the ring of armored carriers that enclosed the combat outpost. Pulse platforms had been raised on the flat tops of some of the carriers, adding additional defensive weaponry to those the vehicles already possessed. A gap had been left in that mobile fence, forming an entrance, and the lead squad made for it. Squad two, containing Rade, hung back in the rear.
The ATLAS mechs standing guard at the entrance to the outpost remained motionless as the Titans of the lead squad passed. The Marine units showed up as blue dots on the overhead map.
Rade switched back to his own external cameras. Because of the height of his mech, he was able to peer easily over the ring of carriers and into the outpost. The command “tent” near the center was an opaque geodesic dome surrounded by pulse platforms. Smaller domes had been raised near it.
Squad one reached the main geodesic dome, which was guarded by more ATLAS mechs. Two Titans separated and made their way around the back side.
“Looks clear,” Mauler said.
Rade noticed the hundreds of laser holes marring the outer fabric of the dome. He wondered why the lieutenant colonel hadn’t repaired them.
“Bomb, see if they’ll let you have a look inside,” Rade said.
Bomb dismounted his mech and entered the dome. He returned a moment later, leaped onto his cockpit hatch, and gave Rade a thumbs up. “Definitely a lieutenant colonel waiting for you in there. Seems a bit grumpy today.” The hatch sealed behind Bomb as he disappeared in his mech.
“What lieutenant colonel isn’t grumpy?” Tahoe said.
“All right,” Rade said. “Squad two, advance.”
Squad two passed into the outpost and joined the waiting squad one in front of the geodesic dome.
Rade stared at the wide open airlock, which wouldn’t fit his mech. With the dome riddled with laser holes like that, it didn’t make much sense to pressurize the dome at the moment. Still, he found himself slightly distrustful.