Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles)

by Rob Buckman

  “Commander …” the youngling stuttered, his neck flap showing the dark blue of fear. “The hewmans have launched something else at us … and … and they’re continuing to fire.”

  “Order all weapons to fire the moment the hewman fleet is within range, and keep firing no matter what. Launch all counter measures.” It was the only thing Chokuk could do in the face of such an overwhelming onslaught. The question was, did he have sufficient offensive and defensive ordnance to destroy the hewman fleet? His gut already told him the answer: he did not.

  * * * * * *

  Brock paced back and forth across the floor of the command bunker, his eyes flicking from screen to screen as he watched the third alien fleet approach Earth. He unclamped his teeth on what was laughingly called a cigar and took it out of his mouth to survey the soggy end with distaste, sighing. It seemed that producing anything resembling a good cigar was beyond the capabilities of this age, and he despaired for the future of mankind. If they couldn’t produce something as simple as a good smoke, how in hell did they expect him to defeat a bunch of fucking lizards?

  “Status report,” he growled.

  He could look and see for himself, but wanted his command staff to get into the habit of relaying critical information. They were all newbies, and from his point of view didn’t know squat about anything. They were all supposedly “trained.” He’d made sure of that himself, but there was a distinct difference between training and actual combat. Who would freeze at a critical point, and who would react, or act the right way? All was unknown at this point, and he wished Scott was here to take over.

  “I’m too old for this shit!” he muttered.

  “The alien fleet has passed the moon and has dropped into a retrograde Earth orbit, sir.”

  “Damage?”

  “Minimal sir. They passed out of range of the moon defenses, and they only managed to get off a few good shots.”

  “It figures.” He stopped in front of one giant screen in particular that showed a good close-up of the enemy fleet, and nodded to himself while he looked at the boxy-looking spacecraft. “Troopships, unless I miss my guess. Now the question is, are they going to land, or ferry the troops down?” he mused.

  “Enemy ships dropping out of orbit and entering Earth’s atmosphere, sir.”

  “Where and how many, damn it!” he growled. “Wake up people, and give me the information I need.” Then he heard a voice in the back of his mind that sounded like Scott. Take it easy, Gunny, not the time to get excited.

  “Or yell at the kids,” he muttered to himself. “Listen up, people.” He looked around to see that he had their attention.

  “I know this is scary as hell, and you’ve never done this before, but that’s okay. There is a first time for everyone. Just do your job as you’ve been trained, and everything will be fine. And sorry I yelled. There was no need for that.” He smiled and ran his hand through his hair. It was still a bit of a surprise that he had any at all, since when he went into cold sleep he’d been as bald as a billiard ball.

  “For those who want to, you can run around screaming your head off and pee your pants, after the party. First, we have a job to do.” That got a nervous laugh, but it did reduce the tension in the room.

  “I have two ships heading south,” the young officer said. “Their apparent destination is New Zealand, sir.”

  Brock gave a tight nod. “Well, that’s what we expected, so let’s lay on a warm welcome for our guests.”

  “Air contingent ready and waiting, sir.”

  “Hold them until the ships land, and then release them.”

  “Aye-aye, sir. Relaying the message.”

  “NZ troops standing by sir.”

  “Good. Tell them to make it look good.” Brock finally puffed his cigar into life, fouling the air with an evil-looking blue cloud. He saw Hiro walk up out of the corner of his eye, saw him wave the foul-smelling smoke away, coughing theatrically and wrinkling his nose.

  “This new bioweapon of yours is supposed to kill the lizards, not your own people, Colonel Brock-san.” He coughed again.

  “Very funny. Everyone wants to be a comedian,” he growled, giving Hiro a thunderous look. Hiro was long past being intimidated by that look, impressive as it was. It did, however, have a much greater effect on the “new kids” as Brock liked to refer to them.

  “Your boys ready?” Brock asked without taking his eyes off the screen.

  “Yes, Colonel Brock-san. They are, as you say, ready.” He inclined his head slightly, receiving the same in return.

  “Contact, sir. Two ships coming in from the northeast at three hundred feet.” Brock glanced at the screen. They were definitely the two ships that had moved out of position from the main lander fleet.

  “So, New Zealand is the target again,” Hiro observed, looking pensive.

  “Yeah. After the last one, they knew where we were, and we posed a danger to them. It wouldn’t make much sense if they didn’t try to take us out again.”

  “I am still not clear on the battle tactic of an um … ‘Chinese fire drill’. I’m not aware of any such tactic in any of my reading of the Chinese style of fighting.”

  Brock let out a bark of a laugh. “You’ll see, Hiro-san. Just as long as our people perform as expected.”

  “I have carefully instructed all our troops in their duties, Brock-san, and I’m sure they will perform to your expectations.”

  “I have a large number of fighters and bombers moving in ahead of the landing ship, sir.” a nervous young man at one station around the circular CIC reported.

  “That’s the one element that’s unpredictable, but not unexpected,” Brock said to Hiro.

  “Yes, Brock-san. They sent these units in first in the last attack on this base, and I expect them to go for the airfield.”

  “True. I just hope that none of our people get killed while they’re waiting for the main force to arrive.” Brock looked sour while he puffed on the cigar.

  The enemy fighters and bombers swept under the edge of the shield over the airbase, while the triple-A and SAMs began their work in an impressive display of fireworks, the fighters strafing some installations before peeling off to the south.

  “There they go,” Brock muttered, “waiting for our fighters to turn up, I expect.”

  The slower bombers came in next, expertly targeting, and hitting the antiaircraft emplacements and SAM sites. Another wave came in behind them, these aiming for the larger buildings, such as hangars and workshops. By the time they departed, most of the triple-A and SAMs were silent, and a thick cloud of black, astringent smoke rose into the clear blue sky over the airbase. Brock felt sad seeing the destruction of what he’d come to think as home.

  “Here come the big boys, sir!”

  “I see them,” he growled, puffing harder. Even Hiro looked a little uncertain as the true size of the troopships became apparent. “What do you think, Hiro, ten thousand apiece?”

  “I’d say more like twenty thousand, at least.”

  “Geez, that’s a lot of troops to send just to wipe us out.”

  “They know how easily you defeated the last ground force they sent,” Hiro said, seeing Brock nod in agreement.

  “You could be right, and I suspect they think we’ll fight them the same way.”

  The huge troopship came in low over the water, and any old-time marine would have been proud of the way they came in over the beach. Once ashore, the troopship slowed and dropped even lower, and began to circle the outside of the shield.

  They knew a ship that large couldn’t get through it directly, so they were looking to drop the troops outside and let them come in through the weakest part near the ground. The lizards’ shield technology wasn’t much different from theirs, and they knew the ground effect would bleed a lot of energy, permitting people, ground cars, and low-speed aircraft to pass through without too much difficulty. As the troopship circled, the high-definition cameras were just able to catch a ramp opening on the u
nderside of the ship.

  “Zoom in on that ship!” Brock called. Immediately, the camera moved in, and Brock whistled in surprise. “Now that was worth seeing.”

  While they watched, lizard troops simply walked off the end of the ramp in rows, a least a hundred at a time. What was surprising was that they didn’t simply fall to the ground, but fell into some sort of gravity cushion that lowered them safely to Earth. The moment they touched down, they were off and running in well-disciplined units. All told, the ship dropped approximately five thousand troops before swinging around to the east and landing another five thousand. The second ship circled in the opposite direction and did the same, before swinging around to the northwest to land alongside the first ship.

  “Impressive,” Hiro murmured.

  “Yeah, a four-pronged attack, with reserve units in the ship, I’m betting,” Brock said as he looked around. “Comm, give our people a heads up about what’s coming at them, just in case.”

  “You worry unnecessarily, Brock-san.” Hiro smiled up at his large friend and commander.

  “Yeah, it’s an occupational hazard of mine.” Brock sighed, starting to pace again.

  “And one appreciated by your people,” Hiro said softly. If Brock heard he gave no sign, just continued chewing his wet cigar, and paced back and forth, arms crossed over his chest.

  “Are, har! Here we go,” he muttered. From the cam’s position on top of Mount Taranaki they had a clear view of the assault, and the radar, also atop the mountain, showed clear to the horizon, so they shouldn’t expect additional troopships.

  * * * * * *

  Ground Force Leader Lecar watched a similar view on a screen in his assault vehicle, relayed from the cameras mounted on top of the troopships. They had neither the view that Brock did, nor the definition, but between them and the satellite relay he had a good overall command of the battle, if it could be called that.

  “Har! he snarled. “They run like chofar, now that real warriors have arrived.”

  From what he could see, the hewmans appeared to be running around in circles, as if they didn’t know what to do. A few fired weapons at his advancing troops, but they were far out of range and no appreciable threat. As Lecar’s troops penetrated the shield and advanced, the hewmans pulled back, running toward, and into, one particular group of flat-topped buildings. That would only make it easier for his troops to find and slaughter them. His command vehicle and his security escort cleared the landing area and proceeded toward the town at a leisurely pace. This was so easy, he didn’t even need to use his heavy assault vehicles, for which he was thankful. There was something slightly distasteful about using armored vehicles. Much better to become close with your prey and hear it scream in fear as you killed it.

  The small convoy skirted the bombed-out airbase, seeing the burning buildings and the litter of war, yet strangely, Lecar didn’t see any wreckage of those cursed hewman air machines the air wing commander reported destroyed on the ground. It was something he’d have to examine later, once they had slaughtered these troublesome animals. Lecar pointed toward a high mound, and the driver drove over and stopped. Climbing out, he walked to the top and looked around. He was curious as to the purpose of the concrete structure below him, with its long trench and metal brackets. It seemed as if the brackets were used to raise and lower large square boards for some purpose, but he couldn’t quite understand what. Shrugging it aside, he used his binoculars to observe the battle, smiling with satisfaction. The hewmans were gradually being driven into three large, flat-roofed buildings of some unknown purpose. That would make it easier for his troops to gather them up. As battles went, this one wasn’t; it couldn’t even be called a battle, for all the resistance the hewmans put up.

  “Commander,” the driver called to him. “Team Leader Asgar reports he has located the shield generator, and requests permission to destroy it.”

  “Permission granted. Destroy any equipment he finds. We want to leave nothing these animals can use.

  “Yes, Commander.” A few moments later, there was a satisfying explosion near the center of the town about half a mile away.

  As the smoke cleared, something strange happened. To Lecar, it looked as if one part of the shield generator building shot straight up into the air, and continued to rise with some kind of vapor streaming from it, despite everything else falling back to the ground. The large black dot continued to lift, and the Commander had an uneasy feeling that felt too much like a premonition.

  “Down! Down into that trench!” he yelled, leaping off the top of the mound. Three giant steps, and he hit the concrete lip, and fell rather than jumped into the trench, landing on his back. He looked up, seeing his security team only halfway down the embankment when it felt as if a giant hand pushed down on his chest, forcing the air from his lungs. The concrete below him bucked, throwing him into the air, but not high enough to clear the edge of the trench. He was only thankful after, when the shock wave of an enormous explosion ripped across the landscape. He watched in horror as four of his security team were flash-fried before being sucked away by the returning air.

  * * * * * *

  The lead element dashed into an open area, seeing hewmans running away from them toward a large, flat-roofed building, and they snarled in bloodlust. At last, they could bring these dirty herd animals to heel, and they’d have the pleasure of hearing them scream in terror while they disemboweled them.

  As they neared the entrance to the building, they all heard an explosion to the northwest. The sun seemed to be a little brighter, and the squad leader knew the shield generator was gone. Not that it slowed the troops down. The squad leader ordered a squad of young warriors forward to breach the door, and saw several of them go down under a barrage of weapons fire. At last it stopped, and together with several others, he charged through the door. For a moment he was disoriented, since instead of a building full of terrified hewmans, the building was empty save for one lone hewman standing by a large metal ring. He blinked at the hewman as it bared its blunt teeth and waved its hand at them with the middle digit of its five-digit hand raised as it stepped backward through the ring. What the creature hoped to accomplish by stepping through a steel ring, he didn’t know, nor why the hewman didn’t appear on the other side. To add to his confusion, the moment the hewman stepped through he heard a grating sound, and the ring slowly descended into the floor and vanished. Someone screamed at him on his communicator, but before he could understand what was said the world turned ever so hot and bright.

  * * * * * *

  “Ring three reporting. All personnel have cleared through the ring to safety.”

  “Ring four reporting. All personnel have cleared through the ring to safety.”

  “That’s almost the last of them, sir.”

  “Tell the rear guard to get their asses through the rings, damn it, and stop fucking around.”

  “Why would they do that, Brock-san?” Hiro asked softly.

  Brock snorted. “Be just like one of those cocky marines to wait and wave a middle finger at the fucking lizards before he stepped through, that’s why.”

  Hiro smiled slightly, knowing it was just the sort of thing one of the old marines would do. He still shook his head sometimes over how undisciplined they were. However, there was no denying their bravery. Hiro had watched, understanding at last the term “Chinese fire drill.” He still wasn’t sure how effective it was, until he saw the way the lizards just kept running toward the screaming humans, who ran around in what seemed like total confusion. Seeing that, the lizards didn’t stop to take up defensive position as attackers should, and other than the first few yards, didn’t do leap frog “scoot and shoot” maneuvers either. They simply charged en masse after the humans, as if to see who could get to them first.

  All twenty thousand troops were now within the confines of the town, where Brock’s “bug bomb,” as he called it, could do its work. Hiro wasn’t sure exactly what a bug bomb was, never having seen or heard of on
e before, and the only thing any of the marines would say was, wait and see, and give him an enigmatic smile. By now the human population of Pendleton and New Plymouth were gone, and the only ones remaining were the people running the Chinese fire drill. Now they were gone as well, and as the lizards were finding out, they’d captured an empty city. Hiro’s thoughts were interrupted when he saw the shield generator explode, and the strange black dot lifted into the sky, spewing liquid in all directions.

  “Watch it,” Brock called, and everyone turned away from his or her screens.

  A moment later, the room was lit by an enormous flash of light, as if God had taken a flash picture of the battle. When the black dot reached five hundred feet it detonated, and Hiro looked back in time to see a giant fireball envelope the town and Camp Pendleton, reaching out miles from its epicenter. Everything within that radius was instantly incinerated when the fuel/air bomb exploded. If that wasn’t sufficient to kill every lizard in range, the resulting firestorm killed the rest outside while hurricane-force winds sucked everything into hell. What looked like a nuclear mushroom cloud lifted over the epicenter, and Brock could see the look on Hiro’s face.