Extinction sf-2

by B. V. Larson

  “Are we clear, sir?” whispered a corporal who sidled up to the shed.

  “I don’t know,” I said. I looked down at my men. They were eyeing everything. I scanned the skies. No sign of choppers or parachutes. Not even a drunk, night-flying seagull. I really didn’t like it.

  I crouched and cruised around the building, moving quickly and quietly between them. I didn’t see anything or anyone. I contacted Kwon.

  “These guys are ghosts. They are either not here, or they are very good.”

  “I think they are good, sir,” Kwon answered. “I just found something. Come to me.”

  I trotted across and open area and thought I heard a clicking sound. Or had I imagined it? When I reached Kwon, he pointed back to where I’d been.

  “They just took a shot at you. I saw the spark behind you.”

  I looked back, and hugged the building more closely. “What did you want to show me?”

  I pulled the nearest marine closer. The man was limp in his suit. I looked and saw most of his head was missing.

  “Sniper,” said Kwon unnecessarily.

  I made a low, grunting sound. I was angry, and I had an idea. I keyed my com-link. “Garrison troops, everyone who’s in my base, I’m disconnecting and using voice alone. Listen up.”

  I turned off the transmitter on my com-link. I lifted the bottom of my suit’s hood to reveal my mouth. “I want everyone to aim at the tree line. Pick out a nice tall tree. When you see my beamer light up, open fire. Take out a tree or two each. Fire in every direction.”

  No one asked any questions, but I could feel their eyes on me. Had the Colonel gone nuts again? What does he have against trees? I didn’t feel like explaining. If I was right, things would be clear enough.

  I took aim and burned the top off a Caribbean pine. My auto-shades darkened in response, then darkened further as a dozen more beams leapt out into the quiet night with fantastic brilliance. There was a brief explosion of awakened birds, squawking and flapping. Flames loomed up from several of the trees, and burning debris dropped down to the forest floor.

  After a few seconds, we stopped firing and everyone watched the fires and listened. Someone, out to the north, began wailing. The sound stopped quickly, but I was sure I’d heard it. I nodded my head.

  “What the hell was that about, sir?” whispered Kwon in my headset.

  “Come over here,” I ordered.

  Kwon came at a run and crouched against the wall of Shed Fourteen. I talked to him in the dark, while we both watched the burning trees gutter and go out.

  “I think they can hear us,” I told him. “We’re using their communications equipment. They aren’t jamming our suit radios, so they must be listening in.”

  “Okay, we go voice from now on?”

  “Except for brief messages to another team, like your squad out there.”

  “Why the firing, sir?”

  I tapped the portholes that covered my eyes. “I was hoping they didn’t have these. I figured they might be using night vision gear, and our beams hitting them without warning would blind them.”

  “Ah…. Who, sir?”

  I glanced down at Kwon. He wasn’t winning any mensa contests tonight. “Night snipers, Sergeant.”

  “Oh, you mean that guy who screamed?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What do we do now, sir?”

  I thought about it. I looked at the turret behind me. It had to work. It was our only chance, really. If we couldn’t get some superior tech on our side, we were outnumbered a million to one by the armies of Earth, nanites or no.

  “This gun isn’t going to build itself. Get up here, Sergeant. I need your strong back again. The rest of you, I want one fireteam intermittently firing into the forest to keep them honest. The rest of you climb up here. We’re going to put this thing on its mount while we still have time.”

  — 9-

  While we worked to mount the projector onto the turret and connect the cable, I felt needles all over my back. This time, it wasn’t the nanites, nor even my sweat. Both those things were at work, but what bugged me was the unknown. Was a sniper sighting on me right this moment? I had to be a big prize, the renegade Riggs himself. Splatting me might be worth a medal.

  We hadn’t heard anything else over our radios from the scouts. I hoped that was good news. Maybe we’d rocked them back with our defensive fire. Or maybe they’d slaughtered my men and were forming up a few hundred yards away, gathering enough firepower to overwhelm us. I had no idea which it was.

  When the projector was up and connected, I jumped down and Kwon followed me. His boots sank into the sandy soil until the tops of his feet vanished. I wondered how much he weighed. Full of nanites, I had to figure it was around four hundred pounds.

  “Time to test this contraption,” I told him. I headed to the sleek wall of metal that flowed down like a mound over what had been Shed Fourteen. I put my knuckles up to the metal and knocked sharply. I rapped a sequence of four fast raps, followed by two more. I’d already programmed the thing to open to the series known as: shave-and-a-haircut, two-bits. I’m a sucker for the classics.

  The wall turned to silver liquid and dissolved open. I stepped inside. Sandra looked at me and smiled.

  “It’s hot and stuffy in here,” she complained.

  “We’re about to be shanked by commandos,” I told her, “there may be some rough moments ahead.”

  She shrugged and went back to whatever she was doing. I looked over her shoulder. She was tapping at a small computer of her own, but she wasn’t playing a game. Instead, it was a sequence of written steps.

  “What’s up?” I said, eyeing her work.

  “I’m trying my hand at programming this thing.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  “Don’t act so surprised. I’m not an idiot, you know. I took some programming in high school and I had a semester of calculus. I was going to take your programming class.”

  “Calculus, huh? Did you pass?”

  She kicked at me, but she was sitting down and I sidestepped.

  “Let me see what you’ve got,” I said.

  I studied her code. That’s what it was, really, a form of source code. The whole programming experience was very free-form when you programmed these nanite-boxes. They didn’t have a specific, limited language they understood, they could understand English. The code looked like what was known as pseudocode. A series of instructions that were almost English, but more structured than English. Controlling these boxes wasn’t easy. They had the ability to talk, but that didn’t mean they were easy to talk to. They weren’t human. There were many misunderstandings. It was sort of like giving perfect instructions to a genie-one that didn’t care if it accidently killed its master.

  I made a few edits. “Can I use this?”

  Sandra beamed at me, and I knew I was back in.

  “Of course,” she said.

  I read out her instructions to the newly-hatched nanite control box for the turret. First, I named the box ‘Turret One’. Why get fancy? The tricky part came next, telling the control system what to shoot at. I had to make sure it didn’t shoot friendlies, only hostiles. The definition could easily blur when you were talking to a nanite-mind. They had sensory input, a set of inputs mounted on the projector that looked like a small nubs aimed in multiple directions.

  The Nano sensors didn’t see with a vision system like our eyes for their primary sensory input, but they understood vision and colors. That sense simply wasn’t their primary one. I supposed if dogs had built the world, everything would be about scents. Humans have a sense of smell, but it is of secondary importance to them. If dogs were capable of sarcasm, I’m sure they would roll their eyes at what passed for our grasp of odors. We’d learned over time the Nano sensors had the ability to sense things in three dimensions, which was how it was able to draw maps for us. They used a form of passive radar and sonar, detecting objects and movement in relative space using multiple inputs su
ch as vibration and radiation.

  “Add to target list: Hostiles firing weaponry at this turret,” I said. That one seemed pretty safe.

  “List node added successfully,” said Turret One.

  “Its voice sounds weird,” commented Sandra.

  “Yeah, all the boxes seem to have voices like jockeys, or adolescents. I liked the ship voices better, too.”

  I figured I would start with a list of things it was allowed to shoot at. Everything else was not to be targeted. That was the easiest way to filter through a large, unknown dataset. Listing everything not to be attacked was too complex. Instead, I would try to identify the items in the smaller set, in this case legitimate targets. By definition, anything not on that short kill-list was not to be burned.

  I had to be very careful, of course. If I screwed up, my little monster would burn down my own people, and it truly would be my fault. I’d felt that sort of guilt before, and I didn’t want to feel it again. I took a deep breath. Sweat tickled my face. Sandra was right, it was stuffy in here.

  “Add to target list: Hostiles firing on me, Kyle Riggs.”

  Sandra watched me with her eyes wide. She knew the stakes. She’d seen the Alamo get excited and kill a crowd of innocents before. “Why don’t you just tell it to shoot at any soldier without nanites?” she asked.

  “What if Kerr comes back asking to call it off? Do we just automatically blast him?” I asked, then I waved for her to be quiet. She looked annoyed. I decided to worry about that later. If the enemy hit us now and this thing didn’t fire at them, it was worthless. But if it killed my own men, it was worse than worthless.

  “Add to target list: Hostiles firing on Sandra, or Sergeant Kwon.”

  “Biotic identities of defensive contacts imprinted,” said the box.

  That’s as far as I got before we heard the thump and scream of a mortar. I hunkered over Sandra, shielding her with my body.

  “Shrapnel won’t penetrate this place, will it?” she asked.

  “Turret One, activate!” I shouted. “Target the source of incoming artillery and return fire!”

  The big servos whirred and clicked. We’d already set up a viewing system on one of the walls. A relief-image of the camp stood out in raised, metal lines. With liquid smoothness, the projector swung around to aim east. A thrumming sound built up, the thing was preparing to fire.

  I ripped off my hood and shoved it at Sandra. She got the idea and we scrambled to pull it over her head. I didn’t know if there would be any light-leakage inside the turret, but this wasn’t the time to be surprised. I closed my eyes tightly and jammed my fist into my sockets. I told myself that even if I was blinded, the nanites would rebuild my eyes. Sandra didn’t have any such comforting thoughts, however. I could hear her breathing hard inside the hood.

  As it turned out, there wasn’t any leakage. A singing sound rang out, and the turret shuddered a fraction. But with the metal hull of the turret sealed around us, none of the brilliance of it got through to us.

  “I can hear your men talking in the hood, Kyle,” Sandra said, her voice muffled.

  I removed the hood as quickly and softly as I could, but she still complained I was ripping hairs from her head. I pulled the hood on. She wouldn’t need it if she stayed in here.

  “Riggs?” said a voice. I realized after a second it was Kwon.

  “Riggs here, go ahead.”

  “That thing works? What did it shoot at?”

  “Whoever fired that mortar at us.”

  “Did it hit them?”

  “If they stop firing,” I said, “then yes, it did.”

  Sandra watched me as I lifted my hood and kissed her. Outside, everything was quiet for now.

  “Did we hit them?” she asked.

  “Either that, or we scared the crap out of them. You stay in here. Don’t leave, it’s not safe.”

  “Duh.”

  “Look, I need you in this fight. I need you to call targets. Not everyone will shoot at this turret when they come in. In fact, they are liable to learn pretty fast not to aim at it. Watch the walls, and kill enemy contacts that come in firing.”

  Sandra eyed the wall depicting the camp in metal lines. She licked her lips. “Why can’t you put one of your men on this?” she asked.

  “There aren’t too many people I trust with my sole laser cannon. You are one of them. Besides, you said you wanted to fight. Here’s your big chance.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll be killing people.”

  “What the hell do you think fighting is all about?”

  She rubbed at her jeans and avoided my eyes. “I don’t want to screw up and burn down one of the good guys.”

  Sandra was still sitting, so I squatted down in front of her. I lifted my hood and caught her eyes with mine and made her look at me. I felt a momentary pang of guilt. She looked worried. Sandra always talked so tough, sometimes I forgot how young she really was. Had I helped end her youth and innocence? She had been a carefree coed less than a year ago. Now, she was manning a killer piece of alien technology against the forces of her own government. I steeled myself, telling myself all this wasn’t my idea. The alien ships had ended everyone’s innocence. Now, the Pentagon was getting greedy.

  “You’re going to do fine. I need every marine out there with a rifle to protect all the sheds, not just this one. If the enemy gets in close, I can’t have this machine blowing holes in the other factories. We’ll have to use infantry to push them back. You will have to call targets.”

  She nodded slowly. “Okay. But can’t I just tell it to burn down everyone who isn’t full of nanites?”

  “No. First of all, you aren’t full of nanites. Secondly, I’m not sure the men coming after us won’t have nanites.”

  She looked at me sharply. “You mean your own marines….”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Why not? Do you really think every last man who joined Star Force was legit?”

  — 10-

  They didn’t bother shelling the camp with mortars after two more tries. Sandra quickly and effectively returned fire. Each time the big green beam lit up the night, it burned its way through a few dozen trees, stabbing out into the darkness. Trunks of pines exploded. Wispy palm fronds ignited with the passing heat. The beams stayed on for several long seconds, burning their way through intervening vegetation. The results were always the same. The mortars were silenced. After a few seconds, the beam stopped firing and the only sounds were the shouts of my men and the crackle of burning forest.

  What really screwed them was the geography of Andros Island. The highest elevation on the entire island was only about a hundred feet above sea level. The island had no hills, no gullies. In the area of my camp, it was particularly flat. There wasn’t anywhere for the enemy to hide, really. They had to come in under fire.

  They could have used something bigger than a mortar, of course. Something with longer range, even a Tomahawk missile. But anything that big might destroy the precious factories, and no one wanted that.

  At about one a. m., our fireteam returned to camp. I saw the big turret uncoil, tracking them as they approached. I winced, hoping Sandra hadn’t screwed up and ordered them burned down in a panic. But the big laser didn’t fire. I gulped air in relief. I walked out to greet them, recognizing the shape of their suits and their number. I hoped it wasn’t some kind of trap.

  The marines halted, facing me. I halted too. I felt a presence at my side. It was Kwon, I could tell without looking. He was the kind of man who you could sense when he came near. He moved the air around him, or shook the ground, I wasn’t sure which.

  “Scout squadron, report,” I said.

  The men glanced back and forth amongst themselves. They were fully buttoned up in their suits, and I couldn’t blame them for that. The Corporal leading the team stepped forward two halting steps. I recognized him, he was the Indian Ghopak that I’d met at the gate hours before. Seven men stood behind him uncertainly.

  “Colonel Riggs?” he asked.


  “That’s me. Report.”

  “Sir, we made contact with the enemy. Do you know who they are, sir?”

  “I have an idea. Fill me in on the details.”

  “They were human, sir. Army Rangers. We killed about twenty of them. Once we realized who they were, we broke off and retreated back to base. What the hell is going on, sir?”

  I stared at them for a few seconds before speaking. “Okay. I’m going to level with you guys. And I’m not going to try to stop you if you decide to pull out of here. We are under attack by U. S. Government troops.”

  There was a rise in the level of chatter all around me. I had a sinking feeling. None of these men had signed on for this.

  “This is a tough spot to be in for all of us,” I said. “They seem to want to take us all out, and take ownership of all the alien tech.”

  “But sir,” said the Corporal, his voice had a pleading quality to it. “Don’t we have a deal? Don’t they know we are all on the same side?”

  I hesitated. “Men,” I began, not sure how to tell them what they were caught up in. “They think the aliens have gone, and now is the time to grab our tech. They think some other country will grab it, if they don’t. They are greedy and paranoid. I can understand that. In times of war, these things happen. If you know your history, when the French surrendered to the Germans in World War II, they formed a government known as the Vichy Government. They were puppets for the Germans. Many French died manning Vichy ships and fighting against Allied troops on the ground.”

  I stopped. Everyone was listening. What was my point? “In times of intense conflict, things get confused. I’m not saying they are on the wrong side, or that we are. I’m saying the stakes are high, and they aren’t going to let us keep our alien tech and fight as a group for Earth unless we are strong enough to prove we can keep that tech. Most of you are Americans, the rest are from India. Both of those nations broke off from Britain, forming independent nations. Were your forefathers rebels, or freedom fighters? That depended on whether your side won or not. The same thing is happening today, but the stakes are higher. All of you, if you stand with us here, will have to decide you are on the right side. Do you think Star Force can keep Earth safe? Or do you think the U. S. politicians should have that responsibility?”