by Jay Allan
“Attention all personnel.” He was practically shouting into his com. “I want everyone a minimum of 600 meters…” He added an extra 100, just to be safe. “…from the hatch in two minutes.” His voice was commanding, his tone urgent. He didn’t intend to lose any rookies because they fucked around instead of obeying his orders immediately.
Taylor tapped the controls on his helmet, activating his tactical display. He took a quick glance, making sure everyone was obeying his withdraw order. Satisfied, he tapped his com to Black’s line. “Blackie, I’ll be going in with the engineers in a few. You’ll be in charge out here while I’m in the base.” With the rest of the battalion was positioned on the northern perimeter, Taylor was in command around the base itself. “If anything gets through the outer defenses, you need to keep the valley clear. Dig in on both sides, and put the mortars in the center so you can fire in either direction.”
“Got it, Jake.” Black’s voice was sharp, but Taylor could hear the fatigue too. The 2nd Section had been in the forefront of the attack, and they’d borne the brunt of the losses. Taylor’s old command was nearly shattered, but he knew they’d still do the job. He was trusting them with his life. He was leading Hank Daniels’ 1st Section inside with the engineers, and if the enemy retook the valley while they were in the base, none of them would get out.
“Lieutenant Taylor, Captain Graves here. Detonation in 30 seconds.” Taylor could see the engineers on his tactical display, running away from the base entrance, putting enough distance between themselves and the charges. “It’ll take about five minutes for the area to cool down enough for us to go in.” Cool down was definitely a relative term on Erastus. “Have your people ready and in position by then.”
“Understood, Captain.” Taylor felt a small flush, not anger, really…more annoyance. He realized he didn’t like getting anything that sounded like orders from the engineer. Not when they concerned one of his combat forces. But he bit back on it. “We’ll be ready, sir.”
*
“Launch light modules.” It was dark in the passage, the kind of pitch blackness you could only dream about most places on Erastus. It was all well and good to wish for relief from the relentless sunlight, but Taylor and his men, their eyes adjusted to the brightness of two massive suns, were ill-equipped to maneuver in the dark.
There was a whoomp sound, then another. Then half a dozen more. The light modules could be attached to the assault rifles like grenades. They were polycarbonate globes generating light through a contained chemical reaction. They lasted around six hours, and each one could light up an area with a diameter of roughly six meters.
Taylor looked down the passage, now lit by the modules. It was about ten meters wide, and it stretched deep into the mountainside. The light globes were doing their job well. All of Taylor’s people had flashlights, but a handheld light was more effective at giving the holder’s position away to a hidden enemy than providing useful illumination. The modules were far more effective, and the grenade launchers could throw them several hundred meters.
“Alright, 1st Team take point.” Taylor was going to follow just behind his advanced team, the engineers and the rest of the section falling in behind him. “Prepare to move out.”
Hank Daniels had been at the end of the formation, organizing the teams bringing up the rear. Now he trotted forward to Taylor’s position. “It’s hard to believe we’re actually inside an enemy base, isn’t it, Jake?” He shouldn’t have been calling his superior officer by his first name, but Taylor wasn’t a stickler for formality…and he certainly wasn’t used to being an officer. Besides, Daniels was rapidly becoming a member of Jake’s inner circle.
“It’s pretty incredible.” The response was perfunctory, without emotion. Taylor looked around him. The walls were smooth, the bare rock coated with some unidentified material. Taylor knew he was inside the lair of a species far ahead of his own, but all he could think about was the cost. Half his people had been killed and wounded taking this place…and from what he could piece together, the rest of the battalion had suffered almost as badly. He knew it was a big step forward for the war effort, but it was still too early to think of it in those terms. The losses were still too fresh.
“I know it was a hard fight, Jake.” Daniels had a pretty good idea why Taylor was so somber. “But at least it wasn’t a waste. We’re a big step closer to ending the war on Erastus. That’s something, at least. How many of our people have died on this miserable rock for nothing?”
Taylor took a deep breath. Daniels was right; he knew that. But it was still hard to see the big picture, to decide how many mangled and dead soldiers an objective was worth. “I know you’re right, Spider.” He paused. “But it’s just hard for me to see it that way. That’s all speculation…and these dead boys are real.” Taylor knew he shouldn’t be commiserating with a subordinate in the middle of an operation, but he had to get through all of this somehow. He tried to be the unmoving rock, always there for his men, never in need of support himself. That was a great image, but an illusion, an impossible standard.
Daniels had to suppress a smile when Taylor called him Spider. He’d picked up the handle when he was a sniper, and none other than Jake Taylor had given it to him. Taylor was a corporal and team leader when Daniels arrived on Gehenna. The rookie was a crack shot from the beginning, so Cadogan made him a sniper. But it wasn’t his aim that was truly extraordinary…it was his patience. Daniels could stay in a hidden position, motionless for hours, just waiting for his shot. One day Taylor compared him to a spider sitting in its web waiting for prey, and that was that. The name stuck.
“Look at it this way, then.” Daniels turned his head, glancing over at Taylor. “Maybe the war here will end sooner…and in ten years a whole batch of kids won’t get blackmailed into throwing their lives away because of this.”
Taylor didn’t respond, but he thought about what Daniels said. It made sense, but it was still hard for him to accept that anything could justify the casualties and suffering his people had endured…and he figured that next group of kids would just get sent someplace else to die.
“OK, Lieutenant Taylor, we’re all set.” Captain Graves was walking up from behind. He had been in the rear, supervising his crew as they prepped their equipment. The engineer wore the same sand-colored fatigues as Taylor and his troops, but his were totally soaked through with sweat, making them look darker. Other than his obvious distress from the heat and the silver Engineering Corps insignia on his shoulder, he could have been any officer in UNFE. Except Graves was going back home someday.
“Very well, sir.” He tapped the com pad on his helmet. “1st team, move out.” Taylor turned his head and glanced at Graves, nodding. Then he followed his advancing troops down the dimly lit corridor.
*
“Machines moving down the west passage.” Taylor could hear shooting in the background as Corporal Danton made his report. Taylor had sent Danton and his team to investigate the scanner contacts they’d been picking up. Jake had been afraid it was an internal security force…a fear that now seemed well-founded.
The main force had worked its way deep into the complex, locating the main power core after a lengthy search. They’d encountered a few sentries, and they’d lost one man, but they managed to reach their objective without running into too much resistance. Graves and his men were setting the nuclear charge while Taylor’s people guarded the approaches. Ideally, UN Command would want to hang on to a facility like this. The potential for researching the enemy’s superior technology was considerable. But it was too risky to try and hold it. The base was deep in an enemy-dominated zone, and they would likely launch a counterattack to retake it. UNFE had only managed to mount an attack against the facility because of surprise. The enemy thought the location was secret, as it still would be had it not been for a random communications intercept and some educated guessing by UNFE Intelligence.
The only tactically sound choice was to destroy the place, thus beginn
ing the long process of attriting the enemy’s strength on the planet by destroying or capturing the production facilities. There had been 8-14 factories on the Portal worlds already conquered. If Erastus followed the pattern, the destruction of this facility would eliminate approximately 10% of the enemy’s replacement capacity. The Tegeri didn’t seem to bring reinforcements through the Portals…they produced the Machines on-planet. When the production facilities were all taken or destroyed, they seemed to give up the fight.
“Lieutenant, we’ve got a lot of Machines coming at us.” Danton’s tone was tense, harried. “They’re advancing from two directions now.” There was a short pause, then: “Sir, they seem to be very disorganized. Not like normal Machines at all.”
“You need to hold them, Corporal.” Jake’s voice was firm. “At all costs. I’m sending you some backup now.” He paused. “No one gets by you. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
Taylor turned toward Daniels. “Hank, send another team to support Danton. He’s got Machines coming in from two directions.” Taylor was in overall command, of course, but he didn’t want to step on Daniels’ toes too badly. Danton had panicked and called Taylor directly…he really should have reported to Daniels. It was tough on a unit commander to have a superior officer along with no other units to command. It was easy to marginalize the junior commander. But Taylor had been in Daniels’ shoes before, and he made sure to respect his subordinate.
“Yes, sir.” Daniels flipped down his helmet and checked his tactical display. “I’ll send Gomez’ team.” He flipped the com circuit. “Gomez, I’m sending you coordinates. Get your team over there immediately and support Corporal Danton.”
“Yes, Sergeant.” Gomez was one of the most junior team leaders in the 213th Strikeforce, but he was fast developing into one of the best. “We’re heading there now.”
“Gomez’ people are on the way, sir.” Daniels held Taylor’s gaze for a few seconds…a silent acknowledgement. Neither one said anything, but they both knew what Taylor had done…and that Daniels understood and appreciated it.
“Lieutenant, we’ll be finished in ten minutes…twelve tops.” Graves’ voice was loud, and the message startled Taylor. The engineer sounded distracted. He and his men were working as quickly as possible to set the nuclear mine so they could all get the hell out. Graves – and Taylor too – would have much preferred to nuke the factory with a missile, eliminating the need for the bloody ground attack or for any of them to be deep within the facility standing around a 3 megaton warhead. But the base was dug into a mountain, and it was far from certain any nuke in UNFE’s arsenal would penetrate sufficiently to destroy it. And if they had tried and failed, the surprise so essential to the operation would have been lost. By the time they came in on the ground, the enemy would have massively reinforced. The assault would have quickly turned into a bloody disaster.
“Acknowledged, sir.” Taylor signaled Daniels while he spoke to Graves, holding up both hands, all his fingers upright, indicating 10 minutes. “Be advised that we are engaging substantial enemy forces, Captain.” A brief pause. “Any minutes you can shave off will make our withdrawal less problematic.”
“We’ll do what we can, Lieutenant. You don’t want us rushing too much with this thing.” Graves cut the line.
Taylor nodded. He wasn’t going to waste his time thinking about what could go wrong with the mine. The nuke was Graves’ problem. The Machines were his.
*
“Let’s go, Gomez. Your people are moving like a bunch of old ladies.” Taylor knew he wasn’t being fair – the corporal’s team was shot to pieces. Danton was dead, and Gomez was leading the survivors of both crews. They had more wounded than able-bodied personnel, and it was hard to withdraw under fire while carrying your comrades. But fair was bullshit, and Jake knew it. There was getting out of here and not getting out. Those were the two options. Fair had nothing to do with any of it.
“We’re on the way, sir.” Taylor could hear the pain in Gomez’ voice. The corporal had reported he’d taken a minor wound in the leg, but Jake had a feeling it was a lot worse than that.
They’d killed a lot of Machines, but there were more coming. They were far less effective than typical Machines. Taylor figured they were fresh off the manufacturing line, and they had enough more than enough numbers to make up for reduced efficiency. There was no way to win a protracted fight and, besides, the nuclear warhead was going to blow in less than 15 minutes. The thing was booby-trapped to prevent the enemy from disarming it, but UN Command had ordered a short detonation countdown anyway. They didn’t want to take any chances on the Machines deactivating the mine in spite of the defenses. If that put a lot of pressure on Taylor and Graves and their people to get the hell out, so be it. Destroying the facility was vastly more important to the high command than a section of infantry and an engineer crew.
Taylor and the main force were almost to the entrance. He didn’t want to send anyone back, and risk more of his men not getting out. But he couldn’t leave Gomez and his people behind. There was only one thing to do. “Hank, get everybody out and onto that transport.”
“You’re not thinking about…”
“Just do it.” Taylor had already turned around. “And you lift off and get everybody out of here five minutes before detonation.” He stared right at Daniels. “Not one second later. Do you understand me?”
Daniels stood silently, shifting his weight nervously back and forth. “Do you understand me, Sergeant Daniels?” Taylor’s tone was imperious, almost angry. He didn’t have time to argue.
“Yes, sir.” Daniels answered grudgingly, his voice sullen.
Taylor spun around and jogged down the corridor. He unslung his assault rifle, holding it at the ready in front of him. The tactical display showed Gomez’ group about 200 meters back. He also had blips showing enemy forces another 300 meters behind them. The data points on the Machines were courtesy of the nanobot detectors Gomez had dropped behind as his people ran for it.
He covered about 150 meters and rounded the corner. There they were, about 30 meters ahead. It was worse than he thought. There were only six of them, all the survivors from two 8-man teams. It looked like 2 were unhurt, and each of them was carrying a badly wounded comrade. Corporal Gomez was in the back, struggling forward slowly, his fatigues soaked in blood. He was waving ahead, yelling for the rest of the men to move faster and leave him behind.
“Let’s go, you guys.” Jake shouted down the corridor, gesturing wildly for the men to run toward him. He kept moving, passing them by, stopping next to Gomez.
“Lieutenant, you shouldn’t be back here, sir. We might not make…”
“We’re all going to make it, Corporal.” Jake sounded sincere, but he was far from sure. He gave them about a 50/50 shot of getting to the transport before it lifted. Getting out too late was the same as not getting out at all…a front row seat to a 3 megaton blast.
Taylor grabbed Gomez and threw the wounded corporal over his shoulder. At least he’s small, Taylor thought to himself. Jake was 2 meters tall, and he had at least 9 or 10 centimeters on the stricken non-com. He ignored Gomez’ howls of pain and ran forward on the heels of the other troopers.
They rounded the corner just as the pursuing Machines began firing down the hall. “Turn left up ahead,” Taylor shouted. They were almost there, but they were running out of time. They weren’t going to make it.
He turned the corner and felt the pain in his back, the sudden weakness in his legs. He’d been hit. Ignore it, he thought…nothing you can do about it now. He gritted his teeth, trying to run harder, to disregard the pain.
He could see the light up ahead. It was late in the day, well into twilight, but even with only one sun in the sky, it was always bright on Erastus. “Move!” He screamed at the men in front. He knew they were tired and hurting, but they only had 30 seconds left. They ran down the last hallway and out into the bright sun of the valley. Taylor glanced at his chrono
meter and groaned. They were too late.
But he could hear the engines of the transport, and he looked up, seeing its hulking form just ahead. “Run!” His legs were on fire, and back was sheer agony. He could feel the slickness, his blood flowing down his back, his legs. Every step was torture, but he kept moving, running hard. Gomez had lost consciousness, and Jake was having a hard time keeping a grip on him.
He couldn’t understand why the transport was still there. The countdown clock was at 4:15 to detonation…they should have taken off 45 seconds before. He could see the shape of the Mustang getting larger as he approached. Gomez’ troops were reaching the open hatch of the hold, grabbing onto the outstretched hands of the men onboard.
Taylor still couldn’t understand. He wasn’t surprised that Daniels was ignoring his order to leave them behind, but the transport crew would have taken off on the dot, and no arguments would have stopped them.
Jake handed Gomez to the troops inside the hold and grabbed onto the handrails, pulling himself up. The strength wasn’t there, and he started to slide. Then he felt the hands grabbing him, hauling him up and in. As they pulled him up, he got a view through the open door into the cockpit. He saw the two man crew…and Hank Daniels holding his gun on them both.
“OK…” Taylor shouted so loudly it wracked his stricken body with pain. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
Chapter 8
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
Have you ever watched anyone die? I don’t mean a grandparent, old at the end of a long and happy life, lying in bed, surrounded by family. Have you ever seen a young person die violently, decades before nature intended?
Have you looked into the eyes of a boy, barely a man, and witnessed the terror, the pain, the confusion? Seen the look in his eyes as he begs you to help, to save him? Listened to him cry for life, even as death was taking him? Stared down at your clothes, now stained with the life blood of a dead friend?