“That’s not going to happen. We’re going down with the first line reserves.”
“The what?”
“The first reinforcements. There are nine hundred and eighty reservists here who have seen action with us in the past. There are just over two thousand second line reserves arriving over the next few days.”
“What - second line reserves? That sounds like you’re getting desperate. What are they - old soldiers who have been pensioned off?”
“I don’t understand what you are talking about. My Ai tells me that you are talking in concepts that would only make sense to a species that hasn’t overcome ageing yet, but we’re not getting desperate. The second line reservists haven’t been in action for quite a while but take part in regular training and exercises. This is normal practice in a significant engagement.”
Simon picked up what Mark recognised as a weapon. It looked a bit like a rifle but was shorter with a thick barrel. The weapon was made of some kind of dense matte black plastic or composite. It had a stock that obviously fitted onto a shoulder but also had a flat, ribbon-like piece sticking out on the left-hand side just above the grip where Mark expected to see a trigger. It was quite bulky around the grip area and looked like it was very unbalanced.
“Try this for size.” Simon said and thrust it at Mark. Mark’s arms were full of the pile of clothing he had just collected. He dropped the clothing and grabbed the weapon. He thought that if he dropped the weapon it might go off but if he dropped the clothes they were unlikely to injure him. The weapon was quite a lot lighter than he had expected and despite its appearances, very well balanced.
“Have you ever fired a weapon?” Asked Simon.
“I had a catapult when I was seven but my mum took it away from me after I shot the cat.”
“I’ll take that as a no. I’ll show you how to use it on the range when we have finished here. Did you kill the cat?”
“Good grief no! I fired an acorn at it.”
Simon pushed Mark further along the table and picked up a smaller oval matte black object about thirty centimetres long and ten centimetres wide. It was blister shaped on top and underneath had a wide groove running its length.
“That goes on your left arm.” Simon said pressing it on to Mark’s left forearm. It stayed there and seemed to mould itself to his arm.
“That’s clever.” Mark said, a bit uncertainly. “And how do I get it off?”
“Just tell it to let go - with your AI.” Simon answered him. “Come on, we’ve got what we need from here. Pick up your kit.”
Mark bent down to do as he was told and as soon as he stood up Simon grabbed Mark’s arm and blinked them.
Mark looked around him. He was in a room with two bunk beds, two single beds and a platform half a metre high. There was room for a table with four chairs in the middle. The two beds and the bottom bunk had backpacks on them.
“The top bunk is yours.” Simon said. “Don’t worry if you’re scared of heights, you probably won’t get a chance to sleep in it. I’ve just ordered you a jumpsuit and boots, they’re in the synthesiser.” Simon told Mark, pointing to it.
“I’m quite comfortable in these thanks.” Mark replied, putting all the stuff he had just collected onto the top bunk. “They were fresh on this morning.”
“Get changed - now!” Simon barked, in a tone that indicated to Mark that it might be better to get changed now and sulk about it later.
He opened the synthesiser and pulled out a black jumpsuit the same as worn by Sally’s troops and a pair of matte black thick soled boots long enough to come just below his knees. He slipped off his shoes and jumpsuit to get dressed.
“What are you wearing? And what are they on your feet?” Asked Simon.
Mark braced himself for more abuse and laughter. “Underpants and socks. They are comfortable and stop things from chafing.”
“That looks like a good idea.” Simon said. “Can you help me make a pattern for underpants and socks to fit me later, I’d like to try them.”
“Yeah, sure.” Mark said, more than a bit surprised by Simon’s reaction. He found it difficult to believe that all of these advanced civilisations had never invented underwear.
As he pulled on the jumpsuit and boots Mark asked: “Whose are the two beds and the bottom bunk bed?” He thought he knew the answer but just wanted to check.
“The beds are mine and Orange’s, the bottom bunk is Mike’s and the platform is Ti’rrk’s. Sally’s suite is right next door.”
“How does this work? Are the four of you senior officers or what?”
Simon laughed and said: “The other three could be officers but no one in their right mind would make me one. We are Sally’s personal staff and advisers. The other three are advisers, when she wants me to have an opinion she tells me what it is.” Simon laughed again and carried on. “Ti’rrk is a communications specialist, and she is also Ant liaison. Mike is a weapons analyst, Orange is tactical adviser.”
“And you?” Mark asked.
“I’m her fixer and bodyguard. When she wants something done - she tells me to do it. I’m not much use to her as a bodyguard, she’s always got me running off somewhere, but I always stand next to her in battle.”
“I guess you all get highly paid for what you’re doing.”
Simon laughed. “No one gets paid! That’s the sort of thing a pre-emergent would say. You’ve a lot to learn.”
“Er, right. If I’m now part of your unit now, what role do I have?” Asked Mark.
“You’re luggage.” Simon answered. “Come on, pick your kit up and I’ll show you how to use it.”
Conflict Origins
Mark pulled on the rucksack, picked up his weapon and the oval shaped device. He stood for a moment looking at the helmet and padded clothes, picked them up and followed Simon out into the corridor. As soon as he was through the door Simon broke into a trot and Mark trotted alongside him.
“Why aren’t we using the internal transport system?” Mark asked Simon.
“We won’t have it down on the ground.” Simon answered “So, get used to it. We’re not going far.”
After about fifteen minutes of running down the wide corridor, Simon ducked off to the right through a wide doorway into a huge dimly lit space. There were groups of soldiers practising some kind of unarmed combat scattered around and as they continued jogging deep inside, what appeared to be a shooting range came into view with a row of large booths, stretching away on both sides until they disappeared into the distant gloom. Simon jogged to a stop at one of the booths with chairs and platforms around it. By now Mark was sweating lightly and breathing heavily, he dropped into a chair. Simon grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up again.
“Come on, there won’t be any chairs on the ground. When we stop running we start fighting. Clip your field attenuator on and we’ll get you trained up on your weapon systems.”
Mark followed Simon a few metres in front of the booth to an area of the floor which was raised into a series of mounds of differing heights. They both sat on the ground. Mark asked, “What is a field attenuator and how do I clip it on?”
“This,” Said Simon, picking up the black oval blister shaped object, “is a field attenuator and I just showed you how to clip it on. This is new technology developed by us and as far as we know the enemy don’t have anything like it. We are starting to distribute them on the ground to our troops. Don’t lose yours. If your arm gets shot off, pick it up with your other hand and bring it back. If you see one of our dead troopers with one and you can’t get their body back, cut their arm off and bring that back.”
“I feel a bit sick.” Mark said “I’m not cutting anyone’s arm off and the last thing on my mind if my arm got shot off would be to pick it up and bring it back with me.” He had gone very pale.
“Mmm. Sounds like we need to toughen you up and acclimatise you to battlefield conditions. You’ll soon get used to it after you’ve been in the front line for a while.”
“Wait a minu
te, I thought that you were always at Sally’s side in battle? Can’t I just stand behind you?”
“Sally’s orders are to get you trained and prepared for front line duty. When I decide that you are ready you will be taking your place in the line. Until then you will do what I tell you - and pay attention, we haven’t got much time so I’m only telling you what you need to know to stay alive. If your mind wanders while we are in contact with the enemy, you’re dead if you’re lucky, mutilated but alive if you’re unlucky. You’re really unlucky if you are taken captive, I’ll show you how to kill yourself quickly if that looks like it’s going to happen.”
“I’m not bloody killing myself!” Mark said in a trembling voice. “What are you maniacs getting me into! Alan said these are pirates. Not very nice pirates admittedly, but why am I involved in all of this! It’s nothing to do with me!”
“Alan sees this from a different perspective than we do. Sally’s got her own reasons for being particularly keen to fight this invading army. These aren’t just a ragtag band of misfits as Alan likes to characterise them. They are a highly organised well trained army with specific objectives. The battle here is part of a build-up that has been going on for hundreds of years. This is just a part of a full-scale galactic war and if they win the war, they will dominate every civilisation in the galaxy for tens or hundreds of thousands of years. That includes the human civilisation.”
“So what is different about Alan’s perspective. Won’t the People be dominated too?”
“You’ve a lot to learn. The People have seen this type of domination come and go hundreds of times, it would just be a passing phase to them. To the rest of us, it’s our whole lives and the lives of our families and friends and our entire civilisations that will be destroyed. The People will be safe, no one can go up against the People. Nobody knows for sure how old their civilisation is. If the myths are true they don’t either. It is well known that their civilisation isn’t millions of years old, it is billions of years old and they have been developing their technology all of that time. Alan may have mentioned that their technology is better than anyone else’s and it is. It is so far ahead of anything else that it looks like magic to us - and that’s only what we know about. Everybody believes that the People have secret technologies that our scientists can’t even imagine. If the enemy army were to turn against one of the People in a ship like Alan’s, they would be wiped out in the blink of an eye. That’s not speculation, it’s happened before.”
“Oh, that does put a different perspective on it. But I still don’t know why I’m here. If Sally wanted a human to be in her army, she should have picked a soldier. I’m not soldier material”
“Sally has never picked a pre-emergent to be in her army before. I don’t know what you are doing here, I just do what I am ordered to. I’m not sure, but I think that Sally wants to make a man of you.”
“I’m enough of a man as I want to be, thanks.”
Simon grunted, and continued: “And getting back to your point about not killing yourself if you look like being captured, you must. If you get taken alive, I’ll have nightmares for years - which is probably how long it will take you to die in excruciating pain.”
“You just said that the enemy army is highly organised and well trained. A professional army wouldn’t do that!”
“The concept of a professional army is a pre-emergent one. This army is led by a dangerously mad psychopath. I studied your human military history while we were on Earth. There wasn’t much else for me to do there. You may think that you have had some mad warlords in your history - Genghis Khan, Caligula, Pol Pot, Hitler, but these were saints compared to Tk'ng Dach Rrn.”
“To who? Who is he?”
“Tk'ng Dach Rrn is the leader of the enemy army. He is a reptile who was cast out of his civilisation for unspecified crimes with a recommendation to all other civilisations to treat him as a pariah. That was when he started his career as a pirate and built his own army of savages. As soon as he felt powerful enough, he attacked his own people and wiped them out. He hunted down every single survivor throughout the galaxy and killed them all in revenge for casting him out of their society. He is now the sole remaining member of his species.”
“Oh, I see where Alan got his comment about pirates. Look, I really don’t think I’m going to make much of a soldier. I admit that I’m not the bravest of people, I’m not very fit, haven’t a clue about weapons, I’m not aggressive and don’t know anything about tactics. I only left Earth to help Alan learn about what you call pre-emergent and Alan calls pre-interstellar cultures because of my shitty job and shitty life and it seemed like an interesting and varied way to live. ”
“Yeah, I’ve got quite a challenge with you, but you’ll soon learn, or die. My job is to teach you the basics - as much as I can before you start learning for yourself on the ground, under fire. It’s what Sally wants, so it’s my job to make sure it happens. You’ll get fitter as we go along. If you’ve got any sense, if we survive here you’ll spend all your spare time getting fit - Orange will help you with that. Mike can teach you everything you need to know about weapons and armour, and she’s pretty damned good at unarmed and close quarters combat. Ti’rrk will teach you what you need to know about military communications. That’s pretty interesting isn’t it?”
“It’s not the sort of ‘interesting’ I was looking for. To be honest, I’d rather be back home in my shitty job with my shitty life. At least I wasn’t frightened all of the time.”
“You’ll get used to that. Anyway, think how much you can learn from us all!”
“And what can I learn from Sally?”
“How to keep out of her way. I don’t know what’s going on between you two. I’ve been ordered by her to do my best to keep you alive and make you a soldier, but whenever you are mentioned she makes threats about what she will do to you.”
“But what did I do? Is she always like this?”
“Never known her like this before and I’ve known her since she first started as a soldier. I was in the squad she joined as a rookie.”
“So how did she come to lead her own army? And why is she only a Colonel? In the British army - and I presume that the translator is matching your ranks against British army ranks - Colonels have Brigadiers, Generals, and Field Marshall’s over them with the Prime Minister and the Queen as overall heads of the army.”
“Colonel is the highest ranking field officer and Sally has no time for officers who fight their battles sitting at a desk - so we don’t have any. As for how she came to command her own army, she is a bloody good soldier and a natural leader. People just follow her. Within half a year of joining my squad as a complete rookie, Sally was leading a platoon, within another half year she had a subunit of one hundred and fifty under her. A year after that she was leading a unit of six hundred. I have never heard of anyone moving up the ranks so quickly. Just after that she decided to lead her own army and our entire unit joined her. Then another eight hundred left to join us.”
“What! You are all deserters?”
Simon laughed out loud. “No, you haven’t got the hang of how this works, have you? It doesn’t work like your military on Earth. What the People refer to as mercenary armies don’t sign up soldiers for fixed terms. The only commitment that a soldier makes is that they’ll follow orders, attend training and won’t leave during an engagement, As long as we’re not actually fighting, any member of the army is free to leave whenever they want. If they are any good, after they’ve left they’ll be invited to join the reserves.”
“So why do they join? Why are you still here? Alan said that no emergent civilisations use money so it can’t be for that.”
“I’ve said before that the People have a different perspective on the galaxy than the rest of us. As a civilisation, they have been around for billions of years and as individuals, they are incredibly old. They don’t get involved with real life in the galaxy. Alan is an exception, but even he is mostly disconnected from
the way things really are. There are a lot of civilisations that use currency, but we don’t. Anyone who has served with us will be welcomed as a citizen by one of the civilisations that don’t use money if they don’t already belong to one, so it would be pointless paying them.”
“OK, so why do you, and all the other soldiers do this? And if you don’t use money, how can anyone hire you?”
“We do it as individuals for the same reason that we do it as an organisation. Two reasons. First, because it’s the right thing to do. We only accept commissions where we take the side of the good against the bad and second, we do it for kudos.”
“You risk your lives just for kudos! You must all be stark staring mad!”
“Yeah, probably.”
That wasn’t quite the reaction Mark expected.
"There is another reason that some volunteer." Simon continued. "No one wants to live forever, so some volunteer wanting to die in battle. We discourage them because you don't want someone next to you wanting to get killed, you want someone fighting with you who wants to stay alive."
“There really is no hope is there.” Mark said glumly. “We might as well get on with it.”
Arms Control
Simon told Mark his weapon was called a Mark Seven. Mark could see confusion ahead with a weapon called that. He just hoped his name wouldn’t translate to sound the same as the name of the weapon. Simon hadn’t made any jokes about the weapon being a Mark Seven and him being a Mark one, so that boded well so far.
The Mark Seven was a pulsed particle weapon. It fired a short burst of high energy subatomic particles that would blast through most substances, including living bodies. Energy field armour was effective against them but physical body armour provided no protection at all. When Mark asked, Simon revealed that he had no idea which subatomic particles it emitted and didn’t care, but if Mark really wanted to know he should ask Mike. He had chosen it for Mark because it was light, it didn’t need re-loading and it was powered by a lightweight vacuum energy generator, so it didn’t need recharging. When asked by Mark, Simon also revealed that he didn’t know or care how a vacuum energy generator worked but if Mark really wanted to know he should ask Mike or Ti’rrk.
Unwilling From Earth Page 15