Solomon Family Warriors II

by Robert H. Cherny

  “Gabby, you’re out voted. I think we should maintain constant ship-to-ship communication.”

  “Roger that,” Buddy said.

  “All right, gang we have two newbies riding with us and we need to bring them up to speed on who we are and how we do things,” Gabby said. “For the bulk of this mission we will not be able to see each other. Therefore it is important that we be able to recognize each other’s voices. We have an hour before we hit the atmosphere to get familiar with each other.”

  “How familiar can we get with you over there and us over here?” Delmar quipped.

  “Delmar! Be nice!”

  “Why? You didn’t ask me to be part of this crew because I was nice, you asked me because I was fun to be around.” Delmar laughed as he teased Gabby.

  “No, Delmar we asked you to be part of this because you are the best shot of the bunch of us,” Gabby shot back. “Stu and Fatima, as you can hear, Delmar would sing bass if he were in a choir. You probably noticed a smoothness to his consonants you can hear in spite of the limited fidelity of our communications systems. Delmar is the most likely of us to crack a joke. Once in combat, he is dead serious, but any other time, if you aren’t sure if what he said is a joke, ask him.”

  Caroline took advantage of Gabby’s slight pause. “I am Caroline. My voice is a higher pitched than Gabby’s and I do have to warn you, when I get excited, I get shrill. I would like to ask Fatima a question. How does a single young Muslim woman find herself on a news ship in as remote a location as this one?”

  “Fatima, you don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable,” Barney said.

  “No, Miss Turner said you would ask and if I did not want you to know, I should refuse the assignment. Miss Turner has told me about you and your family. I came willingly. I want to talk to you and work with you. I hate the Swordsmen as much as you do. Only those who have been persecuted understand persecution. I know what the Swordsmen did to your parents, but the hate does not consume you as it does so many of my people.”

  “I would not be so sure of that,” Caroline said, “Saul is pretty strong in his hatred.”

  “Yes, but he is only one and he probably didn’t before the battle at Stonebridge.”

  “Good point,” Gabby said.

  “Many of my people hate everyone that is not them. They even hate other Muslims. We are Sunni. My father used to talk for hours about how everyone else was twisting the words of the Prophet to their own thinking and lost sight of the truth.”

  “Where do you stand?” Caroline asked.

  “I think they are all wrong. You and your family are right. You can fight without hate. You can battle without anger. You can enforce the peace without making war. Let me answer Caroline’s first question and I think you will understand. I grew up on a planet colonized by Sunni Muslims. We were attacked by Swordsmen. The Swordsmen killed all the males and all the females over sixteen. Females between twelve and sixteen they took to be wives for their men because there were not enough women where they were. I do not know what happened to the younger ones. We were herded onto one of their ships. The ship was attacked by pirates before we left orbit. The pirates killed the Swordsmen and sold us to slavers. The slavers took us to a slave market to be sold. Miss Turner was there investigating the slave trade. She bought me and some other girls. She took us to her ship and interviewed us. She sent the recordings to the Space Force, but by the time the Space Force arrived the slavers were gone. Someone told them in enough time for them to leave. There is corruption all over. I am fortunate that Miss Turner rescued me from the slavers or I would be in a brothel somewhere.”

  “Our cousins were captured by slavers and made to work in a factory that produced poison gas. Had our parents not rescued them, they would have died within the year. We understand,” Barney said.

  “All right, Stu,” Delmar said, “you’re up.”

  “I am a visual artist,” Stu replied.

  When he failed to elaborate, Gabby said, “What is that supposed to mean to a bunch of hardened serial killers like us?”

  Fatima laughed. Somehow these four teenagers hardly seemed like the monsters others would make them out to be.

  “Yeah,” Delmar added, “our idea of art is a neatly arranged pattern of laser strikes on a target.”

  “Stu, we will be depending on each other for our mutual safety until the mission is over,” Caroline said. “Your unwillingness to tell us about yourself touches one of our hot buttons. We are killers. If we do not trust you, your life may not be worth a plugged nickel, pardner.”

  “I get it,” Stu said reluctantly. “I believe that the camera should tell the story. I am not the story or the story teller. The camera is. It does not matter who I am or what I think. It only matters what the camera sees and hears. The camera tells the truth.”

  “No, Stu,” Delmar contradicted, “the camera lies just like people lie. It’s like the saying that figures don’t lie but liars figure. If we are going to be responsible for your life we need to know more.”

  “Delmar,” Fatima interrupted, “Stu and I have had this discussion. We fight about it all the time. Give it up. It is a waste of your time.”

  “Perhaps,” Delmar came back, “but when you talked his life did not potentially hang in the balance based on my reaction time. If I hesitate, unsure of whether I should save him or the machine next to him, he could die. That was not true when he talked to you on the ship. It is now.”

  “Is it really that important to you?” Fatima asked.

  “Yes,” a chorus of voices replied.

  “I grew up on Earth in a suburb of San Francisco,” Stu said. “My parents were school teachers. My childhood was pretty dull. It was the normal stuff a kid growing up in the suburbs goes through. I had a brother and a sister. I was the youngest. I was brought up Methodist, but mostly none of us cared much for religion. I had a couple of classmates that were Catholic and a few that were Swordsman. I was an outcast mostly. Nobody bothered me and I was as happy to be left alone. I got my first camera when I was six. It’s all I’ve cared about ever since. I am the observer. I record the story the same as you would see it if you were there, only you aren’t and I am so I have to show it to you. The camera tells the truth.”

  “Stu,” Delmar said, “the camera only tells part of the truth.”

  “Are you saying the camera lies?”

  “No,” Delmar’s smile could be heard in his voice. “The camera can only tell what it sees and hears. There is much that happens where there are no cameras to see it or hear it. When we get to the surface tomorrow, your life may depend on your understanding that the space you must protect is a sphere and not a cone.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No, Stu, a reflection of reality in a combat zone. Is this your first combat assignment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fatima?”

  “Yes, mine too.”

  “It’s not ours,” Delmar said. “Pay attention to what we tell you. Our first job is to build a runway. Our second job is to defend the site. Our third job is to protect you. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Stu replied.

  “Yes, Delmar,” Fatima replied.

  “Stu, what Barney told you about calling him ‘sir’ goes for me, too. Got it?”

  “Yes, Delmar.”

  Yellow warning lights flashed in both cabins. “Please check the security of your restraints. We are about to enter the atmosphere,” Buddy said.

  “Dammit, Buddy! Can you knock off the Texas Longhorn accent! You know I hate that one!” Gabby shouted.

  “Would this be preferable?” Buddy asked in an accent that was reminiscent of twentieth century Dallas. The accent was subdued, but still distinctive. Buddy had chosen it to stand out clearly from Barney and Delmar.

  “Yes, thank you,” Gabby said. “Stu and Fatima, if you have not figured out yet, these ships are sentient. They think for themselves. You should address them as if they were people, beca
use they are smarter than we are. They are not machines. They are sentient warships. They are every bit as dangerous as that concept implies. Insulting one of them is at least as dangerous as insulting Delmar. The good news is that they like us. I hope to God they never stop liking us. Daisy, would you agree?”

  “Yes, Gabby, we watched you grow up and you are like our children. Even if you act stupidly, we still love you as a parent would. Now, enough chatter, we are entering the atmosphere. Verify that your restraints are tight.”

  Daisy had chosen an accent from the Boston area from about the same period as the accent Buddy had chosen. It was one of her favorites in that it alluded to a level of knowledge that she possessed, but did not often get credit for.

  The ride to the surface was as gentle as the two ships could make it understanding the sensitivity of the two newbies. Fatima was not sick although she was relieved when they slowed down to the point where the flight surfaces could bite the air and smooth out the turbulence. The timing of the descent worked out that they approached the landing site in darkness and dawn was breaking as they spiraled down to land. During the spiral, Buddy, Daisy, Gabby and Barney had worked out a landing plan that should, theoretically, have them settle on either side of the planned runway. The plan almost worked. Instead of the dead stop they expected when they touched the surface, they rolled a few dozen meters before coming to a stop with their backs to the cliff and their noses pointed down the hill toward the forested plain where Lt. Rattigan believed the noise originated. The ships reported no damage from the landing.

  The MMARV’s were in position when they arrived. There was no other sign of human presence beyond the tracks of the other MMARV’s where they lead off down the hill into the forest.

  “Request permission to exit the vessel,” both Stu and Fatima said as soon as the dust around the two ships had settled.

  “Are your flight suits armored?” Delmar asked.

  “Yes,” Fatima replied.

  “Can you operate the camera with your helmet on?” Delmar asked.

  “No, we can’t,” Stu replied.

  “That’s too bad,” Gabby said. “Permission granted to leave the ship under these conditions. You will stay in your flight suits. You will take your helmets with you and place them where you can retrieve them quickly should the need arise. You will stay together. Nobody goes out alone. You will cover each others’ backs. You will stay out of the way of the MMARV’s. You will stay where we can see you with the ships’ cameras and you will talk to us. You will stay in constant communication. We need to know what is going on out there.”

  Stu and Fatima set up a half dozen stationary cameras around the site. They each carried a camera on their shoulders. The cameras transmitted back to recorders in the ships’ storage bays. They were quickly sending images back to the recorders. Clearly they were as practiced at this as the Fourth was at combat maneuvers.

  The attempt to control the MMARV’s from the ships’ control consoles was a total disaster. The inexperienced operators kept digging the plows into the ground and having to back the units out. They narrowly averted collisions several times. They decided that they needed to operate the MMARV’s riding on the units themselves. Leaving Buddy and Daisy to monitor the area, the four exited the ships and began scraping a two kilometer long runway over the rocky and hard packed surface. They found that the ships’ lasers would cut through the sedimentary rock. Taking full advantage of each of the ships’ forty-eight lasers, they cut off everything above the level they had chosen for the runway and used the debris to fill in the holes. Once a section of runway was finished, each of the ships would advance to continue their assault on the rocky terrain. As the ships advanced, Fatima and Stu moved the stationary cameras. Guided by a scanning weapons laser operating on a reduced duty cycle to imitate a laser level, they worked through the night and by morning had built half of the desired length of the runway. It was not the most professional job they had seen, but once it was long enough, the med ships would be able to use it.

  One of the reasons that these four had been chosen for the task of building the runway was that in addition to their skills and flexibility in the face of challenges, their stamina would allow them to finish the job without resting. Aided by the nutrient rich fluids stored in their flight suits, they worked steadily through the second day. As dusk approached, Buddy alerted the construction crew that a med ship was on its way in and they should clear the runway.

  Caroline’s mother, Esther, who had more flight hours in a med ship than the next three med ship pilots combined, brought the ship in. She took advantage of the runway’s relative height on the top of the cliff as Buddy and Daisy had done and brought the ship to as close to a stall as she dared before setting it on the very end of the runway. The ship rolled the length of the runway with the reverse thrusters at full throttle. With mere meters left to the runway, the ship rolled to a stop. As soon as the ship stopped, before the dust had settled, the back ramp popped open and a dozen heavily armed men flowed out and established a perimeter. A handful of combat engineers followed. The first of these stooped down to the ground and picked up a handful of the dust which he ran through his fingers.

  “It is as I feared,” he said to one of his colleagues.

  “Dried mud?”

  “Yes, not rock, dried mud. We must get them out as quickly as we can.” The man turned to Gabby, “Miss Gabriella, this rock you have so industriously built a runway from is not rock. It is dried mud. As long as it stays dry it will be hard and stable. As soon as it gets wet, it will be soft and slippery. Our ships will sink and we will not be able to get them out.”

  “Why is that a problem?”

  The man pointed to the horizon. “Scattered, isolated thundershowers. If they miss us, we gain another day. If not, I have no answer.”

  For the first time since they had arrived, the MMARV’s had stopped operating to allow the med ship to land. Now that the med ship was down, the runway was quiet. In the quiet, the people standing around the med ship noticed a distant sound like a thousand drums beating in rhythm. Upon reflection, they realized they could feel the beating through the ground.

  “Fourteen Hertz,” the engineer said, “the frequency of fear. Something is out there and it wants us to be afraid. We’ll take the MMARV’s. You sleep. In the morning maybe we can get an AARV to discover what’s out there.”

  “Where is Lt. Rattigan?” Gabby asked.

  “They’re about forty kilometers away searching for the source of the sound. They see evidence of large creatures moving through the forest, but they have not seen them. I fear that when they make contact, it will be too late for us to help them.”

  “How many are there in Lt. Rattigan’s detail?”

  “Fifty people and four MMARV’s all of which we should get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “Why don’t we leave?” Gabby asked.

  “They can’t leave before we know what is causing the noise. I fear they are in grave danger.”

  “We can get the people out in a single run with the med ship. That only leaves the eight MMARV’s,” Gabby said.

  “And you, and whatever AARV’s they send.”

  “I’ll worry about us and the machines. You get the runway finished,” Gabby said.

  The light rain that fell in the night did indeed turn the runway into a mud pit. Fortunately the rain was not hard enough to cause major damage, but it was enough to justify the engineer’s concern. The damage was severe enough that it prevented them from finishing the runway the following day. Two AARV’s deployed from a med ship. The runway was long enough for the AARV to land and take off again, but not long enough for the med ship. The med ship would have to wait on the surface at least another day before leaving.

  The Fourth operated the AARV’s remotely from the P I ships’ control suites. They quickly found Lt. Rattigan and the explorers, but they found no evidence of anything in their vicinity that would explain the damage they were seeing to the
forest. At the end of a frustrating day, the Fourth and the two camera operators huddled next to one of the AARV’s hoping to determine why the AARV was not seeing something that they knew was there.

  Fatima stood next to one of the AARV’s sensors. She shook her head. “There is something so very cold about all this. What is out there that wishes to drive us away?”

  Stu stared at her in awakening understanding. “Cold? What if what we are after is cold blooded? Would the sensors see it? What if their camouflage is so good our eyes are deceived?”

  “What are you driving at?” Gabby asked.

  “Are the AARV’s sensors heat sensitive?” Stu said.

  “Yes, but whatever is out there has to be throwing some heat,” Gabby replied.

  “Not necessarily,” Stu corrected. “A cold blooded animal will not throw as much heat as a warm blooded one or a machine. They would only be a few degrees warmer than the environment. Would the AARV see them?”

  “No, it’s programmed to look for specific temperatures,” Gabby said.

  “Can we reprogram it to look for variations in temperature?” Stu asked. “Can it see a spot that is a few degrees hotter than the ambient?”

  “Buddy, can that be done?” Gabby asked.

  “Yes,” Buddy replied.

  “Let’s do it,” Gabby said. “We fly again with first light.”

  “In the meantime,” Stu suggested. “Lets go back over the images we have already collected and examine them in black and white. If their camouflage is good enough, our color vision is throwing us off. We may be able to determine shapes better in black and white.”

  Fatima was the first to spot the distinctive shape. Once they knew what to look for, the team spotted hundreds of similar shapes in the forest surrounding the explorers.

  Gabby called in their findings and uploaded their data. “Think of T Rex ranging in size from one meter to three meters. There are hundreds of them and our guys are completely surrounded. We think the noise we are hearing is them beating their tails on the ground.”

  “How soon will the runway be ready?” Rachel asked.