Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2

by William C. Seigler

  “Who might that be?” asked Fitz.

  “The Battalion Commander I mentioned before and his executive officer. They are true believers in the Legion and feel its betrayal very personally. I think they can be trusted. I’ll put them on the job.” He thought for a moment.

  “No, not now, at least not yet. I need them to find out where the Legion was dumped. Then we need to get them supplies and possibly mount a clandestine rescue operation.”

  “How are we going to do that, sir?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Fitz thought for a bit as both men remained silent. “Sir, what we really need is someone in Parliament, someone we can trust.”

  “Yes, tell me, do you think you could get Miss Juliette to return to the Moon, beg her father’s forgiveness, and get him to find her a job at Parliament?” asked La Force.

  “That’s a tall order, sir?”

  “But it might be necessary.”

  “However, that brings up something else,” added Fitz.

  “What?”

  “Mei Ling is in danger here too. I wonder if it might be advantageous to have her return to the Moon. That way Juliette could find her a job in Parliament as well.”

  “Two sets of eyes and ears, instead of one. Might be a good idea,” said La Force. “Besides, they’ve mined as much data here as they can.”

  Chapter 17 - Digging In

  “Farouk,” began Denver. “Didn’t you tell me once that you were an amateur astronomer?”

  “The word ‘amateur’ has been treated shabbily,” responded Farouk a bit huffily. Our group in the North of England was one of the best equipped in the UK. We even had professional astronomers coming to us for assistance with pet projects they could not get funded.”

  “Right, right Farouk. Look, do you think you can figure out where we are? My understanding was that we were moving farther away from the contested areas.”

  “But you don’t trust them to tell the truth,” he added.

  “Would you?”

  “I’ll get on it right away,” said Farouk. “There are a couple of medical people I would like to pull out who can help me.”

  “Take whatever you need,” said Smith.

  A track pulled up, and an NCO jumped out. He ran up to Smith and saluted. “Sir, I think I’ve got some good news.”

  “Well, we could use some,” Smith replied. “Stand at ease; what do you have?”

  “We’ve found a source for water; don’t know if it’s safe to drink though.”

  “You brought a sample.”

  “Yes sir. I even filled up one of the buffaloes.”

  “You mean the water trailer?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Well, perhaps you should have waited till it was found to be safe.”

  “Sir, what choice do we have?”

  “Not much. Take it to the cave in the next ridgeline. That’s where we’ve set up the lab.”

  “You mean with the medical personnel?”

  “Yes, you know where it is?”

  “Oh, yes sir, we hauled their equipment over there for them.”

  “Ok, get going.”

  “Yes sir.” He saluted and jogged back to the track.

  Smith’s com toned. It was Argie. He answered. “What do you have?”

  “We are set up for sick call in the morning, and we have enough rocks to begin on the wall. The lab’s set up and we have begun testing the soil for microbes, but it will take days before we know anything.”

  “One of our teams has found a source of water. They are on their way with a sample.”

  “Okay, we’ll test it, but that too will take time.”

  “Time we might not have,” reflected Denver.

  “You know, we’ve got the radioactive sterilizers set up and the heat units as well. Soon the autoclave will be set up. They will not handle too much volume, but we can press them into service to purify much of what we’ll need.”

  “What are you suggesting,” Denver asked.

  “We are already contaminated by whatever is on this rock. I can sterilize water and soil for growing things. The water for the walls shouldn’t matter.”

  “Okay, you’re probably right. We need to get these caves sealed up. I’ll have the construction crew meet the water trailer.”

  “We’ll be ready. You having fun yet?”

  “Not yet, but I expect to start any minute now.”

  “Let me know how that works out for you,” she added.

  “Wilco,” Denver clicked off.

  He switched to helmet radio. “Lieutenant William Jones, you there?”

  “Yes sir, I’m here.”

  “How is the radar coming?”

  “It’s not really. It’s coming along fine sir, another thirty minutes.”

  “Is your sergeant getting the duty roster ready?”

  “Yes sir, we’ve got everything under control. It’s all taken care of, sir.”

  “I don’t mean to micromanage,” assured Smith.

  “That’s okay sir; I’ll take care of this end.”

  “Thirty minutes, you say?”

  “A bit less and you will have eyes and ears.”

  “Good,” replied Smith. “Clear.” I want to see what is about to eat us.

  Denver was a lone figure working out in the open. All the information he needed was scrolling across his helmet display. The caves in the second ridgeline had been assigned all the important jobs, like keeping everyone alive. However, the men were digging in on the first. If attack came, it would come from the plain, or so he hoped.

  Attack from what, he did not know. Just spend some time getting shot at, and one begins to expect to get shot at. Funny how the human mind adjusts to things.

  He turned around and raised his binocs. In the distance, he could just make out the abandoned tents. He turned around and could just see the antiaircraft positions. Those guys had done a good job of digging in and covering up.

  Below him, he could see the tracks setting up in positions that would allow them to take in the whole plain. The engineers were digging trenches, at angles such that any ground attack would be directed to the valley between the ridges. This would bring an attacker into the Kill Zone covered by indirect fire and to where the antiaircraft guns could be turned on them as well.

  If the Legion lived long enough, the caves could be mapped and the ridges connected underground. However, that was not his first concern. The sun was getting low, and the Legion was still exposed.

  The only good news was that the atmospheric pressure was adequate so the airlocks would not have to carry any load. Not much consolation, but under the circumstances, he would take anything he could get.

  Another frequency lit up and chimed. He switched to it. “Go ahead.”

  “Sir, this is Sergeant Washington.”

  “You guys ready to feed?”

  “Not yet, we’ll be cooking within the hour, but there is something else,” he said excitedly.

  “What else?”

  “Potatoes, sir and carrots as well, fresh ones!”

  “Fresh?”

  “Yes, one of my guys picked them up in New Town. He’s a freak about fresh food and is some sort of gourmet cook.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  * * * *

  Smith landed near the cave where the mess was being set up. He walked up to the cave and saw the men working feverishly. He soon found Washington.

  “What do you have?” he asked.

  “Sir, this is PFC Simmons.”

  “Private Simmons,” said Smith.

  “Tell the man,” instructed Washington.

  “Well sir, I made a few trips into New Town. I found a really good restaurant there and made a point of getting to know the chef. He told me that so
meone in town had a raised bed garden and grew a lot of organic food.

  “I went over and introduced myself. Anyway, I was buying a few things from them and just happened to have a few fresh things with me when we were hauled off planet. I only have a couple of kilos of potatoes and even fewer carrots. You can have them, sir, if you think they will help.”

  “Oh yes, I think they’ll help. In fact, time may well prove that you’ve saved the whole lot of us.”

  Smith turned to Washington. “Do you know where they are setting up the nuke for power?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “They are building a garden in one of the nearby caves, and it will use as much lighting as we can scrounge. One of the men is a gardener. Let me take these to him and see what he can do with them.”

  Simmons handed the bags over. Smith took them and left. Simmons looked over at his sergeant. “I did good, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did good.”

  Smith picked up and flew to where Dmitri was setting up. Along the way, he saw a few men just sitting around. “I’ll have to do something about that,” he said aloud.

  Dmitri was astounded when he saw the haul Smith brought and quickly called his man over. The young Russian had been an avid gardener and could not believe his eyes.

  “Where did you get these?” he burst out. Then quickly added, “Sir.”

  “One of the cooks likes fresh vegetables. Can you use these to grow potatoes and carrots for us?” Smith asked.

  “Sure, sir. Once we get everything set up, it should be easy. There are lots of things you can grow from kitchen scraps.”

  “Like what?” asked Smith.

  “Oh, lots of things, garlic, some types of onion, lots of things.”

  “I wonder if there is anything else the mess unit has you can use,” Smith wondered aloud. He handed the bags over. Turning to Dmitri, “What difficulties are you running into?”

  “Everything, I need more men hauling rocks, and I need anything we can spare to grow in.”

  “I saw some men just sitting around. I’ll send them over.”

  Smith added, “I would like to get your gardener in contact with PFC Simmons; he’s the fan of fresh organic vegetables.

  He flew back to where the men were just sitting around. As he got out and walked up to them, they all came to attention.

  “Who’s in charge here?” Smith asked.

  “Sergeant Black,” answered one of the men.

  “Where is he?”

  “He went to find the LT,” was the answer.

  “What are your orders?”

  “To wait here till he gets back.”

  “Who has his contact information?”

  “I can give it to you, sir,” said a Corporal stepping forward.

  Smith soon had the NCO on the com and the men sent off to reinforce the Russians. He checked with more units and found discipline and morale acceptable, mostly.

  One squad was listening to a private who was clearly out of control. He was crying and screaming, “We’re all going to die! They’ve left us to die!”

  As Denver approached, he could see the man’s wild eyes and see the others listening to him. This is what he feared.

  “What’s going on here?” demanded Smith. The men came to attention and saluted, except for the speaker who turned to Smith.

  “What’s this? You going to give us a pep talk? What good are your orders and marching around now? We’re all going to die.”

  Smith stopped about three meters from the raving soldier. “What are your orders?”

  “What good are orders now?”

  “I asked you a question,” said Smith, his voice growing louder but still controlled.

  One of the men spoke up, “We don’t have any sir, and we don’t know where Sarge is either.”

  “What are you going to do to us, give us some more drill practice?” began the screamer. “What will we do when the food runs out, or these rebreathers quit working?”

  “Get yourself under control is what you’re going to do,” replied Smith. “All of you, come with me.”

  No one moved, and the screamer continued, “What are you going to do to us? We’re dead men anyway.”

  “Executing you on the spot comes to mind,” growled Smith, “and there is no one to stop me. I’ve got work for you.”

  “I’m tired of orders and this whole Foreign Legion thing. We are going to die! Don’t you understand that?”

  “Yes, everybody dies eventually. What do you think will happen if I let the entire Legion descend to your level of panic? Then we would die and die soon, but if we keep our heads about us, we have a fighting chance.”

  With a crazed glare in his eyes, the man advanced on Smith who was ready for him. Smith stepped forward as the out of control soldier cocked back, telescoping his intent, and shot up with a left. The left caught him on the tip of the chin and his eyes crossed. As he stumbled backward, Smith came around with a right that sent him sprawling.

  Smith stood over the unconscious man. “Now listen to me,” he began in a low growl. “I know the situation we’re in, and I’ve already taken steps to improve our chances of surviving. I have friends in the navy as well as among the Greys. If we keep our heads about us and behave like men, we will get out of this alive. If we fall apart, we all die. Do you understand?”

  One legionnaire came to attention, saluted, and sang out loudly, “Sir, yes sir.” The others came to attention.

  “Follow me.” This time they did, and he led them to where Dmitri’s men were carrying stone to wall in the cave. This was to be where they grew what food they could.

  He left them under the care of one of Dmitri’s NCOs and headed back to where he left the flyer and the unconscious man. When Smith got back, he was sitting on a rock holding his chin. He didn’t even look up as Smith approached.

  “So, you’re awake,” Smith said.

  No reply.

  “I’ve half a mind to just let you sit here and die.”

  “Why did you hit me?”

  “To keep you from being executed. Now you can come with me, and I’ll take you to the aid station. Or you can walk there yourself, you can join your unit digging in, or you can sit right there and die.”

  “Aren’t you going to order me to do something.”

  “No, no reason to. I’ve gotten the rest away from your influence and put them to gainful work. I don’t want to lose anybody, but I’m finding it hard to give a shit about you. How the hell did you survive Legion training?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve always been pretty good at fitting in and getting people to help me through things. There’s just no one to help us now.”

  “Then I guess we’ll have to do it ourselves.”

  “How?”

  “I’ve got people digging in and preparing for an attack. The mess hall has been set up, and we are all on one-quarter rations. I’ve got people setting up a farm in one of the caves with artificial lighting. We will survive this.”

  For the first time, he looked up. “You think we can? You’re not just pissing sunshine at me?”

  “We can make it, or at least we can make one hell of a fight of it. Now, I don’t have a lot of time to sit here and mess with you; are you coming to the aid station?”

  “Yeah sure, sir.”

  He followed Smith to the flyer and was soon deposited at the aid station. This gave Denver time to check in on Argie, just to see how the medical teams were doing.

  When he found her, she was in a makeshift office at the corner of an exam room. The cave opened into a large area. It went for about one hundred meters back then dropped down to another level. People were already sealing off the back of the cave. Soon they would start on the entrance.

  “So how’s it going?” he asked approaching her makeshift desk.

 
; “What’s a matter, you get tired of flitting around like the tooth fairy or something?” she said looking up. She tried to show him her mocking half grin, but he could see that she was tired and it didn’t work.

  “Just missed your charming personality,” Denver replied. Then he added, “Where’s Farouk?”

  “He’s trying to hide our limited supply of medicines. I hear you are planning on getting the entire Legion stoned.”

  “Not exactly, but that’s what we have to make oxygen from carbon dioxide at this time.”

  “Cool, I think. You know somebody is going to find a way to smoke it,” she added.

  “Yes, but we will not make it the forbidden fruit.”

  “The what?” she asked.

  “Do you know about the story of Pandora’s Box?”

  “Of course, our education system was better than yours,” she said mockingly.

  “That’s a pretty low standard,” he retorted.

  “What’s Pandora and her box got to do with anything?” she asked.

  “Everything, you make something forbidden, the one thing they cannot have, and that’s the thing they want most. Did you ever study prohibition in the U.S.?”

  “Yes, it was great for Canadian distilleries.”

  “Well think of all the crime that went along with that. What would have happened if it had never been made illegal?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The whole gangster era would not have happened, no Al Capone nor everything that went along with it. Marijuana’s the same thing, only we need it to make oxygen.”

  “Hadn’t thought of that,” she replied.

  “I wonder if humans can digest any part of the plant, you know, does it have any nutritional value?” he asked.

  “I never thought to ask,” she replied.

  “How’s getting this place sealed up coming along?”

  “You saw the wall, it’s coming along, and we’re plugging as many holes as we can find. They would have to land us on Planet Swiss Cheese,” she said shaking her head.

  She looked up, “You’re staring again.” She had caught that peculiar way he looked at her sometimes.

  “Just wondering how you were holding up; it’s strictly professional.”