by Ian Williams
As he went to begin again, Sean arrived by his side and spoke first. “It’s time. They’re all waiting for you,” he said.
“Already?” Graham replied. He then returned to his family one last time before he would have to leave. “I love you all so much. Keep each other safe until I’m back.”
“Wait, Graham, please,” Jane called to him as he spun his chair away from the screen. “Come home to us as soon as you can. I love you.”
The screen returned to black as the video call ended. Looking away from the screen had given Graham the freedom to wipe his own eyes clear of moisture. He had not wanted any of them to see how hard he was trying to hold back the truth.
“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know that right?” Sean said.
“I know. But I can’t back out. I can’t stay like this. If there’s a chance I might end up like Stephen, then I have to do this.”
“Just remember I told you this was a crazy idea.” Sean led the way, with Graham not far behind.
It was now time to face the inevitable and enter the city. Everything had led him to this point, to this very situation. His path to this place and time could not have been planned out better by the extra presence in his head. It had gotten exactly what it wanted at every turn. For now, Graham was putting his faith in his imaginary clone, in the hopes that it knew precisely what it was doing. He was betting everything on that assumption, in fact.
If he was to be proven wrong, he would pay with his life.
Chapter 10
Incursion
Graham stood before a two-meter-wide window of thick glass and watched those beyond ready themselves for the coming mission. A group of sixteen men and women soldiers slipped into green jumpsuits, each following up with a routine of straps and fasteners to complete the look. They then threw on dark coloured ballistic vest and secured them in place with velcro straps.
Once dressed they were ready to begin the next part of their preparations. Each soldier had a small back-pack with supplies within, which required checking over. Some pulled grenades from their packs, some counted magazines for their weapons, while others made sure they had enough medical supplies stuffed inside.
The last piece was still missing for the soldiers, however. Graham had been engrossed by the way they appeared unfazed by the prospect of going into battle as they prepared. He had all but forgotten that one missing ingredient. So when the soldiers pulled open a cabinet built into the steel walls and began to produce large rifles, one after the other, he gawked at them even more. He was stunned to see such formidable weapons being handed out as casually as handshakes.
With a grunt and a slap here and there, the soldiers loaded and cocked their rifles, all in a display of professionalism and cold calmness; quite the opposite to Graham’s sweaty and concerned state.
“These are among the finest men and women in the country.” Brigadier Harrington stood to Graham’s side watching with obvious pride and his back as straight as a steel girder. “You will be safer with them than you’ve ever been before. They’ll get you into the city without so much as a scratch.”
“I hope so,” Graham replied before swallowing hard. “So, how exactly do we get down to the city from here?”
“This way.”
To the side of the wide window was a door that led into the soldiers’ lair. Brigadier Harrington at first pulled with all his strength, until the momentum had built behind him, at which point the door continued almost by itself. The door, as with the walls around them, was made of polished metal with a thickness to it that would have kept an enraged elephant from getting through. This part of the Ring only served one purpose, which was to house the fiercest soldiers in the land.
As Graham entered the room he found himself the centre of attention almost instantly. Not one of the soldiers had any interest in voicing their clear disagreement with having to take a civilian along with them. But each told of their opinion through clenched teeth and blazing eyes. Graham could hardly have blamed them. He felt as unsure about it as they appeared.
“Put this on please,” Brigadier Harrington said.
A green jumpsuit was handed to Graham as he stood waiting like a naughty school boy in the corner. He took the clothing, removed his leather jacket, then began to fight with unravelling it.
Brigadier Harrington spoke up unexpectedly. “Is there a problem?” he called to his best and strongest, all of who returned to their own concerns a second later. None of them said a single word in reply. “I thought not. Now, I understand that taking a civvy with you is unusual, but these are unusual times. Mr. Denehey here…” he stopped when he saw Graham still struggling to get his jumpsuit on.
Someone snorted from the back of the room, finally finding the situation too much to bear.
“Who was that?” Brigadier Harrington said, spinning around suddenly. The anger in his voice only amplified his strong Scottish accent. When no-one answered he continued. “You will need Mr. Denehey’s input to bring down the relay network that is keeping the shield above the city. He is the most valuable one among you all, so getting him in safely will be your first, and most important, mission. If anyone has a problem with any of this then feel free to piss off now, because I don’t want you here. Is that understood?”
A unified ‘Yes, sir’ boomed through the room as every soldier signified their agreement. Their sudden outpouring of raw power had Graham ready to run for the door. He had never been so out of place in his life. He was no soldier, he had no clue what it even took to become one. All that prevented him from backing away from them was the risk of him tripping over his own feet. Even with the jumpsuit now on he felt himself become a little unstable.
“Now, Mr. Denehey, are you completely sure you are up to this? Last chance to change your mind.”
With one swift pull on his zip, Graham closed up his suit and turned to the Brigadier. “I’m ready,” he said, taking his own ballistic vest from the Brigadier. This he found easier to get on, although its surprising weight brought his shoulders down a little. Whatever was contained within the vest to keep bullets and shrapnel away from his body, it had a significant weight to it. Yet it felt as flexible as any thick coat he had worn before.
“Excellent. Well then, let’s get you acquainted with your POD.”
Graham shot a worried glance to Brigadier Harrington as he wandered through the crowd of soldiers. It was the first he had heard of anything called a POD while aboard the Ring. “Say again?” he called after.
The soldiers went about their own preparations as Graham sheepishly followed the Brigadier and made his way past them, to the area behind the lockers and metal benches against the walls. There, it suddenly opened out into a strange area with man-high and narrow glass bubbles sticking out of the metal walls. Graham saw that these went all the way to the back of the large space, at least twenty in all. They were positioned on each wall, with ten on either side.
Inside they were clearly designed for one purpose, a purpose Graham immediately felt a little worried about. A person somehow stood inside these PODs. Tight was not the word that came to his mind, but claustrophobic.
“You can’t be serious?” he asked as he stood beside the nearest POD and slid his bandaged hand across the smooth glass surface. In a moment of unfounded paranoia, he pulled the jumpsuit’s sleeve over the bandage a moment later.
Brigadier Harrington walked into the middle of the room. “One of these will be your mode of transport. These are our Personnel and Ordinance Distribution vehicles: PODs for short.”
“How the hell do they work?”
“You haven’t got to worry about that, Mr. Denehey. All you should concern yourself with is figuring out your side of this deal. I am sending you in for this reason alone. You’ve shown you understand technology much better than anyone else here. I expect to see quick results.”
Did you hear that? Graham asked inside his own head. While he continued to investigate the POD Brigadier Harrington decided to leave
him to it and return to the four teams of soldiers. It was just what Graham needed. Now he could confer with his imaginary clone once again.
He appeared the very second the area was clear of anyone who could hear. “I heard it all, Graham, don’t you worry about that.”
“So,” Graham turned his back to the others in the room as he spoke. “Are we really going to do this?”
“Yes, G. It’s the only way. Or would you rather become like Stephen instead?”
“No, of course not!” After speaking a little louder than he should have, Graham gave a quick look around to make sure he had not dropped himself in trouble. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. Can we go through it again, just one last time?”
“Fine. We go in with the soldiers. Then, when they’re busy holding the landing area, we can go off on our own and find some way of contacting Luke.”
“So what’s to stop them killing every Sentient inside the city?”
“Well, I suspect Kindness will have a plan to help with that. Right, it’s time, G. The others are ready to start. Just stay calm and do exactly what they tell you to do, OK?”
Graham turned his focus back to the noise coming from behind him as Brigadier Harrington brought them into order.
“Quiet,” the Brigadier began, his voice powerful, and yet soft enough to keep Graham’s nerves under control. “Captain Rigs, go ahead.”
A sharp chinned man with big bushy eyebrows stepped forward, his face muscles tensed and smooth. “OK, listen up,” he said. “I want an orderly line by the PODs; pick one quickly and stick with it. Your POD will be your protective shell during the descent. Treat it with respect and it will deliver you safely. All weapons must be stored securely before we initiate the drop. Do not leave it loose or you’ll soon find yourself with a lump of metal in the face.
“Now, we’re going to make a lot of noise getting into the city. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s the only way. Once we’re on the ground the mission becomes one of stealth. Get to work on your objectives as soon as you’ve disappeared. Don’t be seen or heard. Keep communication to a minimum. Take things slowly and methodically and you’ll be OK. Go!”
Having already become slightly better acquainted with the POD to his side, Graham stood still and watched the others hardly waste a single second in rushing to their own and standing to attention beside it. Each soldier waited with their posture unnaturally straight and their rifle held tightly against their sides – their backpacks already secured to their backs.
Brigadier Harrington then began his assessment of the line-up. He crossed his arms around his back as he wandered along the row, smiling and grimacing at the same time. Evidently he was pleased by what he saw but a little pumped-up too, as though he wished he were going in with them. By the time he reached the end of the line his steps had become loud and prominent. He even threw in a couple of grunts to cement his approval.
“Yes, that’s what I’m talking about. You’re all badass’, you’ll strike fear in the enemy all right. They won’t know what hit them. You, what’s your name, son?” the Brigadier said to a young faced man with a thin scar running across his forehead – a sign of previous engagements.
“Watts, Sir!” the man said with his chin raised high.
“Wrong, son. You are an unstoppable killing machine, a weapon to be wielded and feared. The same goes for the rest of you too. You represent the finest, the very best of the best that this nation can produce. You defeat all. Give me some noise.”
Again the whole room erupted with a chorus of ‘yes, sir’ that ricocheted off the walls. Even Graham joined in this time, albeit with a voice much quieter than the rest.
“Damn right.” Brigadier Harrington then proceeded to initiate a call on his wrist screen.
Emma answered almost immediately. “Yes,” she said.
“Are we ready to begin?”
“Oh, absolutely. Starting the device again…now.”
On Emma’s last word the Ring lurched to a stop, bringing the entire structure to rest. During the last test of the Laser rig they had done the same thing, so Graham was at least spared any worry about this. He ran through his memory of the procedure in his head, thinking of each and every step as best he could. Next he expected to feel a rumble beneath his feet as the monstrous device began its gluttonous consumption of energy, energy his own upgrades had allowed.
He felt the vibrations almost exactly as he had been waiting for.
“How long until you are able to fire?” Brigadier Harrington said.
“With these new power management upgrades installed and working even better than I thought, I’d estimate no more than a few minutes. I’ve calculated a cycle of around twelve minutes before automatic shutdown. That’s all the time you’ll have to get the first two teams into the city.”
“Excellent work, Dr. Grace.” After lowering his wrist screen, the Brigadier again spoke to his line of men and women. “Let’s get to know our PODs a little better, shall we?”
What followed was a collection of high-pitched hisses as the glass doors of each POD slowly opened from the bottom, lifting away like a beetle’s carapace, until it formed a right-angle with the wall. Graham looked on in amazement as his tiny vehicle welcomed him inside with a series of beeps and flashes as it came online. Within only a few minutes the others had all stepped inside their PODs, Captain Rigs too, and stored their supplies in place. It was Graham’s turn soon after.
“Go ahead, Mr. Denehey.” Brigadier Harrington had taken position right next to Graham without his knowledge.
“Right, OK, here we go then,” Graham nervously uttered. He placed his left leg inside the POD first and tried his best to find a comfortable place for it. After a few failed attempts he eventually found the only way to do it involved one swift movement. It entailed twisting his foot into position and then spinning on it to bring his body into place. He managed it with a little more force than he meant, so immediately proceeded to bash his head on the inside panel. “Bollocks!”
“You’ll need to keep your arms by your side during the descent. There’re grab-bars on either side, I recommend you hold them. Now, above you there should be a helmet. You’ll need to put that on. Inside it there’s a built-in headset, so you’ll hear everything that’s said, from us in the Ring and your team.” Brigadier Harrington had sped up his assistance since the activation of the laser device. He seemed almost impatient now.
Graham was too preoccupied with prising his own helmet out from its storage place above his head to notice the change. When the helmet finally came free he lowered it over his eyes and felt the inside automatically shrink to fit. All of a sudden he could hear the soldiers all going through their readiness checks as clear as day. Their voices were as loud in his head as his extra internal voice had been, which caused him a temporary moment of confusion. It passed shortly after. Next he found the grab-bars down by his side and gripped them tightly to test their sturdiness.
Emma's voice interrupted his exploration of the cramped surroundings, her words calling out through the tiny speakers in his helmet. “I’m ready to fire, Brigadier Harrington. Give the command and I’ll go ahead and start the countdown.”
“You have it, Doctor. Give us a five-minute countdown. Once the hole has formed in the shield we’ll launch the PODs.”
Hearing the word ‘launch’ brought a sudden shiver to Graham’s spine. He found himself only able to stem the strength of the shiver by gripping the grab-bars even harder, until he could feel his palms begin to sting.
Brigadier Harrington did one last pat-down of Graham’s straps and jumpsuit to make sure before he then returned to the centre of the room again. This time his audience were all standing inside their small PODs and watching intently. “This is it. You all know what to do, so let's do it.” He nodded to someone on the other side of the large window at the end, who answered back through the headset.
“Closing POD doors now,” they said.
Another hiss followed as each of th
e PODs responded. Slowly the carapace-like glass door began to lurch down over Graham’s head, closing around him with a sense of deliberation that made his mind twist and turn. This was his very last chance to back out. All he had to do was push back against the door and leap out. With barely the room to manoeuvre at all, he took to breathing exercises to calm himself down. “You can do this, you can do this,” he told himself as the breath settled on the glass in front of his face, clouding his view a little.
“Right, here we go,” Emma said through the speakers. “Firing in three…two…one!”
Graham closed his eyes as the device fired and sent the entire Ring structure swaying from side to side. He felt the floor move beneath him and the sonic boom of the energy beam as it impacted the shield far below. Not seeing it for himself this time only made his imagination run wild with images of fire and sparks.
“Graham, are you OK?” someone else said through the headset. It took Graham a moment to recognise it was Sean speaking to him. “Hey, I’m in the next room, Graham. Let me know you’re all right, will ya.”
“I’m fine, I'm fine. Let’s just get this over with. Sean, don’t you dare tell my family about this, OK?”
“You got it. I just wish I was allowed to go with you.”
Brigadier Harrington’s voice interrupted their chat shortly after it had begun; he had become impatient again. “Proceed with the launch,” he said.
“Yes sir. Turning out the PODs now.” Again the man operating the system could only be heard and not seen.
“If you see my sister down there, tell her I’m doing well.”
“I will. See you soon, Sean.”
A mechanical sound preceded a rough jerk of Graham’s POD as it started to turn on its horizontal axis. His view went from the inside of the metal room, through the thick steel wall structure and then out to the night-time world below. Without any chance to prepare, he found himself pushing against the glass as though trying to stop from falling to his death. As the domed door of his POD ran the height of his body he had nowhere else to look but down. He found no comfort in seeing the others to his side either; the occupants of which were fine with the view. Only he felt his lunch make an attempted escape.