by Chris Lowry
“Is it okay to just leave it?” Renard asked. “We were plagued by bandits at our compound.”
“We helped the people here solve that problem,” said Babe.
“Exterminated that plague,” Waldo added.
“Let’s go see what Doc has for us,” Lt said.
He sent Jake and Steph on point, and let Waldo and Babe cover the two veterans as they made their way to the base.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The last three miles to the compound were quick. Not as quick as they could have been, but the hour in the hovercraft let Weber and Renard rest their legs, and they moved faster toward their destination.
A sentry spotted Jake and showed himself beside a tree. He gave a quick wave, then ran toward the fence.
“Early warning system,” said Weber.
“Need ‘em if you’re not living under a rock,” said Lt.
“Technically, it was a mountain.”
“You say potato,” Lt grinned.
“You were taking us to High Command, but now that it’s gone,” Weber said. “What is this? What are you taking us to?”
“A little late for second guessing,” Babe said.
“I’m not second guessing,” said Weber. “I’m asking what to expect.”
“This is a civilian compound,” Lt explained. “No one to turn you over to, or in to, or even speak about to you.”
“What does that mean?” Renard asked.
“That means you’re sticking with us.”
“What if we don’t want to stick?” Renard said.
“I don’t force nothing,” Lt said as they reached the fence.
Jake and Steph folded back the cut links to create a tented opening that the others slipped through before they followed.
“We’re going a mission,” Babe told the veteran duo.
“Killing Licks,” Weber nodded to Lt. “We get it’s his hobby.”
“Hobby hell, it’s my business.”
“And brother, business is good,” Babe and Waldo parroted together.
“Guess you’ve heard me say that a time or two,” Lt shrugged.
“Doesn’t make it any less true.”
“You’re right, Babe. It is the God’s honest truth, and where we’re going, it’s the land of opportunity as far as killing Licks go.”
“After your man.”
“After my man.”
They stopped outside of the door as people poured through the opening. First in twos and threes, then a wave of people streaming down the steps to surround the squad.
One of the dirty faced women clapped, and the rest quickly joined in. A sound of joyous appreciation filled the asphalt lot in front of the building.
“What the hell are they cheering at?” Waldo asked.
Lt looked around.
The squad in suits looked fearsome. Black matte armor, reflective faceplates on helmets. Strong, and powerful.
“Hope,” he said, just loud enough for Weber to catch.
“Hope?” the veteran repeated. “You’re bringing them hope?”
Babe raised a clenched fist in the air. The act seemed to excite the crowd more. They cheered louder.
Waldo saw him, and mimicked the movement.
The people clapped harder.
Lt waved as he motioned Weber and Renard up the steps.
The rest of the squad followed them inside. The crowd followed, growing quieter inside the enclosed structure.
“Lt!” Crockett shouted.
He greeted Babe and Waldo with fist bumps.
“Where’s Danish?” he grinned.
Lt popped his visor. The grin fled as Crockett saw the look on his face.
“Damn it,” he cursed.
Babe shed the ruck sack and passed the armor to him.
“Suit up,” Lt said, his voice soft.
Crockett nodded, and carried the ruck after Lt into the lab space.
“Doc!”
Doc jumped, rattling a hanging suit so it sounded like plated windchimes.
“Was that greeting for you?”
Lt ignored him.
“Are my suit’s ready?
Doc stood back from the rack.
“I did my best,” he said.
“Do they work?”
“Yes,” he nodded after a moment. “I can’t run the diagnostics the way we once did, but they are as ready as they will be.”
“And you got the fucking lights on in this place,” Lt clapped him on the shoulder. “Good fucking work.”
Doc glowed under the praise.
“Babe, get those two in here.”
Doc watched Babe lead Weber and Renard into the lab. They gawked as they stepped through the plaster opening, wide eyes trying to take in all of the room at once.
“You remember how to put these on?” Lt asked.
Weber grabbed the first suit and examined it, hands running over the smooth lines.
“All too well.”
“You’re going with me, so suit up.”
“I thought we had a choice,” said Renard.
“Yeah, you had a choice of me choosing. I choose you to go.”
Weber kept a hand on the suit, but stared at Lt for a moment.
“I didn’t sign up for a suicide mission.”
“You didn’t sign up at all,” said Lt. “You were conscripted, at least that’s what you told us.”
“I was,” Weber answered, steel in his voice. “We were.”
“And since you were MIA, not KIA, you never gave up the duty.”
“You’re going to win us over on a technicality?”
“Nope, no need to win you over,” Lt nodded at his hand. “You ain’t took your hand off that suit since you got in here.”
Weber looked at his hand as if it belonged to a different person, but he didn’t remove it.
“It becomes a part of you,” he said in a hesitant voice. “You’ll see. It haunts you.”
“Yeah, well I don’t believe in ghosts,” Lt said. But it was a lie.
He saw the ghosts of the men he got killed every time he closed his eyes at night.
Weber turned to the Doc.
“Is the nano there?”
Doc nodded.
“All of it?”
Doc frowned. He chewed on his lip for a moment and nodded again.
Weber sighed. He lifted the first suit off the rack and draped it over his shoulder.
“Where do I change?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It felt like slipping into an old friend, Weber thought as he strapped on the armor.
The fabric adjusted, and he didn’t even feel the tiny sting of the needle as it pierced his skin.
What he did feel was relief. Instant, euphoric relief, and the wonder of it brought tears to his eyes.
Three years. Longer still, he had lived with pain. The aches from the crash, his injuries and living as if in the dark ages since returning to earth. It all disappeared as the nano went to work on his system.
Lt watched the man stand straighter.
Watched both of them adjust, shoulders thrown back, heads held higher.
He was impressed.
He had been injured once, and the pain made him want to curl in a ball. He imagined living with it, day after day, and saw the results of its absence in the men.
They no longer slumped in on themselves. No longer carried their back in a permanent cower.
“The robots worked fast,” he said.
Renard stretched both arms above his head, slow, methodical.
“I haven’t been able to do that since the crash.”
Weber took a tentative step, like a fawn wobbling across a woodland clearing. By the third footfall, he had it. By the sixth, he leaped as high as he could, the bottom of his feet clearing the workbench.
He landed with a grin, and turned to Doc for the helmet.
“We’re ready,” said Renard as he donned his helmet too.
Lt watched his scarred visage slip behind the smooth surfac
e of the visor.
Now he looked like one of them.
“Blasters,” Weber said as he moved his arm and head in sync.
Lt figured he was practicing the targeting reticle inside the heads up display on the helmet.
“These will be different from what you wore on Mars,” said Doc. “The first gen were experimental air tight, but they weren’t always effective.”
“Do we plan on leaving the atmosphere?”
Weber’s visor shifted toward Lt.
“We’re chasing Lick wherever they go, but as far as I know, we’re earthbound for the near future.”
“What else?” Weber asked.
“You’re feeling the effects of the nano on your system,” Doc licked his lips. “The programming is first generation too, so there is a limit to what it can do.”
“Yeah, we learned that with Danish,” Lt said. “Don’t get shot.”
“It’s their weapons,” said Renard, still testing how the suit felt. “Their designs use something different.”
“Like the hovercraft,” Lt thought about the vehicle waiting on them in the woods. “How it operates.”
“I’d like to reverse engineer one,” Doc stared through the wall as if he could see their transport hiding in the trees.
“Well Doc we got this one all to ourselves to get a ride to the fighting, but if I can grab you one, I’ll bring you back a prize.”
Doc nodded.
“I’ve got three of their weapons,” he indicated a pile on the table. “But my focus has been on getting the suits prepared. Now I can turn to the next task, perhaps to offer more help.”
Lt squinted at the man, then turned to Weber and Renard.
“Get on out and wait with the others. I’ll be along to outline the mission shortly.”
Weber and Renard moved with a balletic grace as they crossed the room.
“Welcome back,” Lt heard the older man say.
“I never left,” Renard responded, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Lt knew how he felt.
The suit was powerful, the tiny robots injected into their system even more so.
But war did something to you, no matter what you had to fight with.
A memory beat against the brick wall he had built in his mind, threatened to tear it down and overwhelm him.
He fought it back with a grunt.
“Are you well?” Doc asked.
“Fit as a fucking fiddle, Doc. Now, you did real good getting those suits ready. I’m gonna need you to fix the hole in this one.”
He prodded the ruck sack with Danish’s suit on the long low table.
“I think I have the parts,” Doc’s eyes wandered toward the back of the lab, his mind starting to work on the repair.
“Hey, eyes on me,” said Lt. “Focus for just one second.”
“Of course,” Doc shook his head and zeroed in on Lt.
“You got a couple of pieces of homework, and I don’t want you to let the dog eat it.”
Lt ticked them off on his glove fingers as Doc stared at his golden tinged reflection in the faceplate.
“Suit. See what you can learn about those weapons. Good work on getting these systems up and running, but it’s time to recruit some help. You think you got some choices out there in the mix?”
Doc looked past his shoulder at the hole in the wall.
“Maybe.”
“Burmage seems hot to get in here.”
“He was a computer programmer before,” said Doc.
“Not many computers left.”
“We have them, but they draw so much power.”
“Yeah, well one of them fellas out there knows how to clean a window, don’t they? Get ‘em on the roof and clear off the solar panels. Dust and dirt interfere with them catching the sun.”
One of Doc’s eyebrows inched up in surprise.
“What?” Lt scoffed. “I was a reader before the Lick. I learned me a few things.”
“I suppose I only considered you a war machine.”
“I’m that too. See if you can get this camp whipped into shape. Tighten ‘em up and button ‘em down.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“But you get my fucking gist, don’t you Doc. You know I mean bring this fucking camp out of the dark ages and get it moving like a well fucking oiled machine.”
Doc gulped and nodded.
“Anything else?”
“What? That ain’t enough for you? Find some of the daughters out there and marry ‘em off to the sons of France to strengthen our alliance.”
“I don’t understand,” Doc fumbled.
“It was a fucking joke, Doc. I was trying to lighten the mood cause you looked like I busted your balls a little too hard.”
“Oh.”
Lt could see the tension in his face, the knots in his shoulders as the man hunched up.
“You did real good on the suits,” he said. “You’ll do just as fine on working the camp.”
Doc nodded.
“I’m sorry about your man,” he said.
“That what bugging you?”
“I know what you’re planning to do. I feel you think the suits make you invulnerable. They don’t.”
“I got that Doc. I watched Danish die. And?”
Doc sighed.
“What happens after?”
“After what?”
“After you get back from rescuing your friend?”
Lt leaned against the workbench and crossed his arms over his chest. He popped up the visor so Doc could see his face.
“Know what I like about you Doc? Besides your winning personality and brains and shit?”
“I suppose it’s my usefulness to your cause.”
“It’s cause you think we’re coming back. You just said it. When you get back. That tells me something about the way your brain works. And I like it.”
Lt watched some of the tension leak out of the man’s shoulders.
“Will you?”
“Come back? Hell yeah. Crockett’s taken a shine to this place. You get it set up right, it will do just fine.”
He pushed off the bench and navigated toward the opening to join his squad.
“Get some rest too Doc. We’re gonna get out of your hair for a little bit, and you did a sprint on those suits. Be ready for when we get back. Then we’ll figure out what’s next.”
Doc watched him slip through the hole, and the two civilians popped back into place to act on guard duty.
He almost chased after him to find out who was staying, to get more of the plan.
But he turned to the bench instead and started pulling out the scorched remnants of the dead man’s suit and lined them up on the surface for examination.
CHAPTER
Lutz tried not to stare.
They beat you if you stared. He did the work the Lick soldiers directed him to do.
Clean out muck from dark holes. Scrub hovercraft. Move supplies into the main building.
Whatever they asked.
But he watched from the corner of his eye.
He searched the thin dirty faces of his fellow prisoners, tried to pick out the women.
Stringy, greasy hair swaying with furtive movements over bowed heads.
No one made eye contact.
No one talked.
They beat you if you talked.
“Hey,” he would whisper if he thought it was safe. Each time he approached a woman.
No raspy voice answered him.
It got him a lot of scared looks, and women scurrying away from him.
“God, I feel like I’m in high school,” he muttered after the last one.