Torchship Pilot

by Karl K Gallagher

  The diplomat shrugged. “I saw no harm in mentioning publically discussed truths.”

  The captain looked back at the consul. “We only have a few pistols. That won’t get us past all those bots killing people.”

  He’s bargaining already, thought Mitchie. This won’t take long.

  “I am willing to commit my entire security detail to this mission,” said Dubois. “Master Ranger Robinson and his men have all volunteered to attempt it under your command.”

  The Master Ranger saluted. “Reporting for duty, sir!”

  Schwartzenberger awkwardly returned the salute when he realized Robinson would keep his arm up until he got the return. “Are you real volunteers, Master Ranger?”

  “Yes, sir. Best chance for fun we’ve had in two years.”

  Mitchie hid a smile at the captain’s expression. He’s never dealt with infantry. Watching him command them is going to be a blast.

  Schwartzenberger said, “I’m a merchant skipper with a reserve commission.” He pointed at Mitchie. “Lieutenant Long is an Academy graduate and career officer in the Akiak Space Guard. You’ll report to her for this mission.”

  Master Ranger pivoted and saluted. “Ma’am.”

  Mitchie snapped a salute back. Crap. She looked over the watching Rangers. They all had full duffle bags. The weapons were a mix. The rocket launcher looked comforting.

  The consul cheerfully gave in to Schwartzenberger’s demand that Agape take on Joshua Chamberlain’s refugees. “And that includes you, Yuri,” said the captain.

  “I’ll just fetch my things, then,” answered Bakhunin.

  ***

  The refugees switched ships as soon as they heard about the new destination. The Rangers came through afterwards. Mitchie aimed them at a dormitory container. They considered it luxurious for a combat mission and began wrestling over bunk choices.

  Mitchie decided there was probably something useful she could do on the bridge. At the top of the ladder she saw the captain and Bing in the galley. The first mate had her arms folded tightly on her chest.

  “Shi, I trust you completely,” said Schwartzenberger. “I just think you’d be safer on the Agape.”

  “Either it’s safe enough for me to come along or too dangerous for you to go. Pick one, Alois.”

  Mitchie decided to show the Rangers how to secure their heavy gear.

  Demeter, gravity 7.5 m/s2

  The research bunker was only a few klicks from the Caerus spaceport. Master Ranger pointed out a nearby park with enough room to land the ship. Mitchie vetoed his suggestion. A landing leg sinking into a flower bed could be more than they could deal with. She wanted some solid concrete under the ship.

  A few ships were scattered about the spaceport but their landing target was empty. Always had been. Mitchie landed in the port’s safety zone, a half-klick wide perimeter laid out to keep the city safe from pilots with bad aim.

  The empty pavement lacked amenities such as movable stairs. They left the ship by its rope ladder. The Rangers didn’t bother with the rungs. A dozen Diskers looked through the spaceport security fence—Mitchie, the captain, and all ten Rangers.

  “Gimme a nice wide hole in that,” ordered Master Ranger. His men carried saw-edged machetes made for cutting metal. A fifteen-meter gap opened in the fence.

  The youngest member of the squad was detailed to a Senior Ranger. Master Ranger tasked the two of them with ensuring the ship would still be human-controlled when the rest returned.

  “We’re ready, sir,” reported Master Ranger.

  “Let’s go,” ordered Captain Schwartzenberger.

  The Rangers formed a loose circle around the officers. They walked down the middle of the road, weaving around inert cars. Birds flew between the trees dotting the sidewalks. Nothing else moved.

  Mitchie scanned the buildings on each side. They had no visible damage. Lights were on in some windows. Street and traffic lights operated normally. When they reached the first intersection she saw the cross walk sign had a warning of the AI attack in rotation with the walk / don’t walk commands.

  There were no bots in sight. Normally there would be a gardener working on the grass, some security bots watching overhead, and a few delivery bots slipping through the crowd. Mitchie couldn’t even spot a broken one.

  The people were still here. The Rangers on the flanks traced zig-zagging paths to not step on the piles of slurried flesh or the streams of blood trailing from them. Master Ranger issued a few reminders of proper spacing to make the flankers stay on the sidewalks and lawns. They kept drifting into the pile-free roadway.

  The point Ranger carried a rifle. When a securitybot flew around the corner of the building he put a bullet through its center. The broken bot bounced down the street and rolled to a stop in front of them.

  “Burn it,” snapped Master Ranger. One of the flankers squirted fluid on it from his projector. The bot melted in the flames.

  Nothing else bothered them before they reached the bunker. It had been an ordinary office building from the outside. Now the upper floors were burnt out, the windows were smashed, and the road in front of it covered with broken bots.

  Master Ranger halted the circle just clear of the debris. “Do we have a contact protocol?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so,” said Captain Schwartzenberger.

  Mitchie said, “I’ll knock.” She walked forward to the hole in the wall that used to have a door. Master Ranger waved a rifleman forward to accompany her.

  If there’d been a doorbell it had gone with the door. Mitchie kicked a chunk of bot chassis out of her way. The rattle sounded louder than any doorbell. “Hello! We’re here to rescue you!”

  A floor panel in the scarred hallway tilted up. A laser rifle emitter poked out. “Who are you?” called a harsh voice.

  “I’m Lieutenant Long, Akiak Space Guard. Security Director Woon sent us to extract you.”

  “Um, wait one.” The trap door closed.

  No, I don’t mind standing here in the ruins, thanks for asking. Mitchie adopted a patient expression and tried to stay calm. The Ranger didn’t help. He kept trying to look in every direction at once.

  The trap door flipped open with an impressive crash. The man standing in it was a boulder. His black-and-grey dazzle-pattern fatigues had five stripes on the sleeves. “You have orders from Director Woon, Ma’am?”

  “Yes.” She held up the hardcopy order in one hand and the data crystal in the other.

  “Right. Best come in while we look at that.” The gunnery sergeant waved at them to follow as he ducked back down.

  Mitchie sent her escort ahead then waved to the captain. “Sir, it’s all clear!” She followed through the trap door.

  One flight of stairs took her to the actual bunker. Mitchie saw Master Ranger watching for pursuit as he followed his men in. A pillar in the center of the room held a storage array box. There was plenty of room for the Diskers to fit in.

  The noncom introduced himself as Gunny Singh. Mitchie handled the rest of the introductions. Gunny took the orders to review.

  Mitchie watched the two groups of infantry. The Fusion Marines’ geometric camouflage fit nicely with the bunker. The Rangers’ green / brown / black splotches clashed. She suspected the effect would be reversed outside.

  Gunny Singh addressed the captain. “Sir, this doesn’t say where you’re supposed to take the classified archive.”

  “That’s going to depend on how much trouble we have getting out of the system. Ideally we’ll jump to Coatlicue and hand you off to the first Navy ship we find. If the AI gives us trouble, well,” Schwartzenberger shrugged.

  Gunny turned to his men. “Marines, we leave in five! Corporal Li, prep the box for travel. Torgs, secure the demolition device.”

  Master Ranger suggested, “If you’ve got some explosives, bring them along. We might need them.”

  “The demo device is ten kilotons,” said Gunny.

  The two top NCOs turned to the map display.
Master Ranger traced out how they came.

  “Right,” said Gunny. “We’ll parallel that on Mumford Ave, one block north. That lets us go through the park, better fire lines.”

  His Disker counterpart nodded. The Ranger turned to the officers. “Chain of command, sir?”

  Schwartzenberger looked at Mitchie. She said, “Gunnery Sergeant Singh is the local expert. He will have tactical command until we reach the ship.”

  “Yes’m.” Master Ranger gathered his men for a quick briefing.

  The new formation felt the same to Mitchie. The officers were joined in the middle by two Marines carrying the box. The Rangers kept the circle they’d had before. The Marines, twice their number, formed a larger one just outside them.

  Mitchie noticed the Marines kept their position better. They didn’t mind stepping ankle-deep in pureed flesh. They avoided the center of the piles. She felt certain they were worried about slipping, not desecrating remains.

  The birds had flown elsewhere. The humans moved through complete silence and stillness.

  Mitchie said to Master Ranger, “I’m surprised it hasn’t sent some bots to watch us.”

  “I’m certain it has, ma’am,” he replied. “They’re watching us from the windows. We were left alone before because it wanted to know where we were going.”

  “Ah.” She looked at the tall glass buildings flanking the road.

  Gunny called a halt as they neared the park. “You”—pointing at a rifleman Ranger—”put some bullets through those bushes.”

  The Ranger fired at three shrubs. Two shots rang as they pierced metal. A wave of bots emerged from their hiding spots and rushed the humans.

  “Marines, fire!” A barrage of laser pulses fried the bots. “I love lasers but they’ve got no penetration,” said Gunny. “I’m glad you boys brought your old-fashioned toys.”

  They advanced into the park. A few bots were picked off as they scuttled about, late to that attack or early for the next one.

  The next attack hit from three sides. A stream of bots came from the nearest building while two manholes in the park popped open to release more.

  Gunny just yelled, “Fire!” and let the troops handle it. Grenades sealed off each stream. One fell through a manhole before going off. A five-meter length of tunnel collapsed, pulling down the grass above it.

  “Ma’am, I see your point about landing on solid ground,” said Master Ranger.

  The next lull lasted until they almost reached the end of the park. A sudden rain of egg-sized objects fell onto the humans.

  The Marines killed most of them in the air. The flamethrower Rangers got more on the ground. Mitchie skipped away from one rolling past her.

  One landed next to Captain Schwartzenberger and skittered toward him on bug-like legs. He stomped on it. A moment later he fell over screaming.

  The Marine medic rushed over. “Hold him!” he yelled. A Ranger pinned the captain’s shoulders. The stomping boot had split open as the infiltrator bot forced itself into his foot. The medic swung his cutter, taking the leg off below the knee. He slapped a tourniquet on.

  A severed metal tendril emerged from the stump, waving in search of its missing end. The medic cursed as he traded the blade for a scanner. “I have movement in the abdominal cavity,” he said.

  “Can you operate for it?” demanded Gunny.

  “Maybe. Back on the ship. I don’t know if I can catch them.”

  Schwartzenberger’s screams faded to gasps. The medic smeared black goo over the stump then pressed an injector to the captain’s neck. Schwartzenberger took a deep breath, then a second, and said, “Damn, that’s good stuff.”

  “You’ll pay for it later, sir,” said the medic.

  “No I won’t,” said Schwartzenberger. “Long!”

  “Here, sir.” She knelt beside him. “The Rangers are making a stretcher for you.” Their machetes made short work of a tree.

  “No. You can’t carry me. You need them holding guns and moving fast. Anyway, this’ll probably kill or subvert me before the boy can get it out.”

  The medic looked down and nodded.

  “Give me an automatic weapon and three grenades. I’ll keep them from following through here.”

  “Ma’am?” said Gunny Singh.

  It hit her in an instant. She wasn’t a reckless subordinate or lone wolf now. This was her first command decision affecting someone else’s life. “Get him the weapons,” Mitchie ordered.

  Master Ranger and Gunny helped him onto a park bench. Captain Schwartzenberger said to them, “You two are witnesses.” He waved Mitchie closer. “You take command of the ship.”

  “Sir, the first mate—” she began.

  “No. Bing’s a good second but she won’t make the hard decisions. You will. She gets my personal share, you take care of the ship’s share.”

  A Ranger handed him a submachine gun. A Marine supplied three dialer grenades. “Thanks. Now go,” said the former captain.

  Mitchie gave him a crisp salute. Schwartzenberger waved. “Gunny, move out!” she ordered.

  As the circle reformed she saw a Marine’s burning body. Shit, I didn’t even notice him go down. I need to not tunnel-vision. Mitchie could see the spaceport fence down the street a few blocks away.

  Gunny Singh brought them to a trot. The Marines carrying the box handed it to a fresher pair. A block went by with no visible enemy action. At the intersection the flankers reported bots moving on the parallel streets. Gunny cursed at them to keep moving.

  Mitchie kept up easily. Demeter’s low gravity balanced out her short legs.

  “Rocket front!” Two Rangers hauled their rocket launcher to the front. The formation stopped as bots came out from behind the dead cars blocking the street. “Fire at will!” ordered Gunny.

  Mitchie realized she stood behind the rocket launcher. She flung herself over an abandoned autocab. The back blast blew some hot air under the car. She crawled forward to see the effect.

  The rockets blew big holes in the line of bots. Laser and rifle fire picked off survivors. The bang-bang-bang of grenades sounded from the park.

  Mitchie turned and looked back over the wrecked car. She hadn’t thought he’d really use them. She’d thought of trying to retrieve Captain Schwartzenberger later. Now she knew he was gone. Which left a big empty space. She hadn’t realized how much she’d depended on him supplying the infrastructure of decisions to enable her exploits. And just liked having someone she could depend on. Her vision blurred a little.

  “Ma‘am?” Master Ranger stepped in front of her, blocking everyone else's view of her face. “We’ve got the troops lined up again. Can start advancing whenever you're ready.”

  She took a deep breath. Locked her pain and grief into a box labeled ‘Do Not Open Until Relieved.’ And said, “Good. Move out.”

  “Advance!” yelled Gunny. “Watch your step, some are playing possum.” Mitchie clutched her pistol as she stepped over pieces of bots.

  He was right. Marines shot bots grabbing for their ankles. The possum threat kept them all looking at the ground.

  One Ranger caught the movement above them. “Air attack!” he called. Flying bots swooped down. Marines stopped moving to shoot at them. Wheeled bots ran off the roof of the building flanking them.

  “Keep moving!” yelled Gunny.

  Mitchie dodged a bot as it crashed to the ground. A Marine had his back to it. The bot rolled into him, knocking him flat. Mitchie kicked it off of him.

  The bot put out a manipulator to right itself. Mitchie fired six rounds into the motor housing. It stopped moving. She holstered her pistol and turned back to the Marine, “On your feet, soldier!”

  He stirred, then froze. “Can’t.”

  She looked at his legs. Multiple breaks. “Sorry, this is gonna hurt.” She knelt down, grabbed his arm, and pulled him over her shoulder. God, I’m glad we’re on Demeter. She stood with a grunt and staggered toward the spaceport. The Marine muffled his whimpers.

  M
aster Ranger organized the rear guard. He checked the vitals of one of his men. “Incendiary.” A Marine twisted a grenade twice and dropped it on the dead Ranger.

  “Ma’am, I’ve got him,” The weight vanished from her shoulder. A corporal twice her size carried him now.

  Mitchie looked around. There were a lot of smashed bots. Gunny had cleared to the next intersection. Master Ranger hustled the walking wounded into catching up. The rocket launcher had a forklift on it.

  She pulled out her handcomm. They should be close enough. “Chamberlain, come in.”

  “Read you,” said Bing.

  “Lower the cargo basket. We have wounded.”

  “Will do.”

  “Out,” said Mitchie. The rest of the news would have to wait.

  The AI seemed to have run out of expendable bots. Nothing bothered them on the last block. They resumed the circular formation, wounded in the middle with Mitchie and the box. The spaceport ring road took them to the hole in the fence.

  A dozen people pressed against the fence, begging the two Rangers for permission to board the ship. Some turned their pleas to the Marines as they went through the gap.

  Mitchie ordered, “Master Ranger, load the wounded then the box. Gunny, inspect the refugees. We can take any you think are safe. We’re lifting as soon as everyone’s aboard.” She headed up the rope ladder.

  Guo and Setta managed the crane. He looked very relieved when Mitchie came through the airlock. She gave him a little wave. Set her handcomm to PA. Deep breath. “All hands. This is Lieutenant Long. Commanding. Prepare the ship for immediate lift. A memorial service for Captain Schwartzenberger and the other men lost will be held when the ship is on vector for the gate.”

  Guo looked shocked. He headed for the converter room briskly enough. Mitchie decided she didn’t have to worry about him right now. Setta stayed focused on the crane.

  Mitchie listened for the sound of the turbines spinning up. It didn’t come. She cursed and headed up the ladder. On the main deck she could hear Bing and Hiroshi arguing.

  Bing leaned down to block Mitchie as she came through the bridge hatch. “Where’s Alois?” demanded the mate.