Infinity Squad

by Shuvom Ghose

Just walk normally, I thought. Wait, no- walk like Flores! Shit- too late!

  Hughes tilted his head as he tried to read my missing nametag. "Soldier- what's your name?"

  I snapped to attention and tried to act flustered, which wasn't a huge stretch. "Captain Flores! Sir!"

  Hughes squinted at me, looking my cloned body over for something. My heart started pumping faster.

  "The way you walked down the hall," he said. "For a second it reminded me of..." As I held the salute, Hughes' eye caught the name tattooed on my wrist and he shook his head. "Never mind, all you clones look alike to me. At ease. You're in TacOps, right Flores?" I actually relaxed until he said, "What do you know about Infinity Squad?"

  "Yes. What do you mean?" There went my heart again.

  He leaned forward as if sharing a secret. "That squad is pulling some sort of con. I'm sure of it. Those misfits are killing spiders, and no one else is?"

  What would Flores do? The haughty, peevish-

  I sniffed. "Finally. Someone else who agrees with me."

  Hughes nodded, even leaning closer. "They claimed they killed 15 spiders using shoulder-launched rockets from choppers. But I just checked the sat pictures. Did you know, there isn't one smoking hole visible in the valley? But there were burning trees on the edge of the desert. What do you think of that?"

  I took a deep breath and appeared to be troubled. "While I agree that Lieutenant Forrest and Infinity Squad are class A screw-ups," I said, "that canopy is deciduous type II leaves. Thick and dripping wet most of the time- you won't see any smoke or impact craters through it. And there's a species of bee out near the desert that actually explodes when a predator bites it. We've seen them from the unmanned drones. Flock instinct when flying. Too many of them probably got too close together."

  I shook my head. "No, Infinity Squad cleared that valley of spiders- I just changed the Master Map myself. But what I don't like is the way that they did it. Hanging off choppers and shooting rockets at them like yahoos? It's unprofessional. It's sloppy. And it lets them inflate their kill totals, I think. At least the other squads come back with clean, honest zeros."

  I was walking a fine line here. I had to get Hughes to stop looking at sat pictures behind us, because he was going to find something eventually. But I had to justify Flores changing the Master Map, and to agree with Hughes because Flores was a dick like that. It wouldn't do to have Hughes bump in to the real Flores later tomorrow in the cafeteria and meet a totally different person.

  As I watched the hamster wheel turning in Hughes' head as he tried to process all I had just dumped on him, I was trying my hardest not to giggle.

  "Yes, bees," he said, nodding. "And it IS sloppy. But maybe, if it's effective, the other squads should adopt it. I'll think about that, Captain."

  Sure. Think until steam pours out your ears. "Yes Sergeant Major," I said, then started towards safety again.

  "Captain?" he asked. "Those are the Squad barracks. Where are you going?"

  I stopped in my tracks.

  "Two... um... Immortal soldiers, their Lieutenants, were talking about dropping in the valley tomorrow. We just marked it cleared. I was going to order them to rethink their plans."

  His eyes narrowed. "General Oakley and Infantry Captain Morse decide where the patrols will go, not you Captain Flores. You just make your maps." He looked at me with renewed scrutiny. "In fact, speaking of sloppy, where's your nametag? Why are you wearing common fatigues?"

  "I... I ran out of laundry, sir."

  "I'll relay your message to Immortal Squad, Captain. As a suggestion. And dress up your fatigues. If I catch you wearing a uniform without nametags again, you're going to join me for a little midnight run."

  "Yes sir!" I replied, snapping to attention then hurried back the way I had come.

  The lies were breaking down. If he saw me again tonight, I couldn't keep up the Flores act during a run- I'd be too tired! But I couldn't get back to barracks. And I couldn't get out of this body without dying!

  I raced down the halls, trying to think.

  My buffering band was five bars green. But I couldn't leave a body lying around to find. Shit. What on base could get rid of a body so that no one could read its tattoos? And then I knew what I had to do.

  I burst into Three-Spot's holding cell and dropped to my knees in front of him.

  "Eat me!" I said.

  He looked at me. "I do not understand."

  "I need to hide this body! Kill me quickly- through this tattoo! And cut off my wrists and eat them first!"

  "Are you under some compulsion? Another's control? This is a most unusual request."

  "No! I want you to do this! I will live again in another body, but you must eat the arms and chest of this one!"

  "Very well." Three-Spot rose to his eight feet above me and circled me. "I must say, I am coming to enjoy your kind's flesh even more than I do lightning snakes." Back in front of me again, he placed the needle point of one razor claw against my heart, and then raised it high and back.

  "That is strange," he said, poised to strike. "Your mind looks different again. Duller around the edges."

  And then he stabbed me through the heart.

  ***

  Chapter Eight

  It worked, sort of. Oakley checked all official Earth-bound messages as we assumed he did, and the next morning he treated us to a speech praising the troops, Flores, and himself for finally liberating the valley from the spider menace. It was a little worrisome that Oakley gave the speech directly into our implants through the emergency channel, but as he blathered on, for minute after minute, at how long and hard Immortal, Omega, and 'the other' squads had fought for this day, I could practically hear Flores throwing away his report on how the Master Map had been hacked. Zazlu, Butcher and I even started dropping hints around Dakota that it had been Flores' unusual mix of insight, cunning and guts that had been the keys to this historic milestone for the war effort, and she raced off after breakfast to record a hero piece on him.

  There was no way he was changing the map back now.

  I told Three-Spot as much as I planned our next patrol with him. Unfortunately, the spider did not see the elegance of our schemes.

  "Why do you just not take a vote to end this practices of 'patrols'?" he asked. "If a majority of the warriors wish the practice stopped, General Tree must acquiesce."

  "That's not how it works," I sighed. "Soldiers can't just vote to stop a war. Hell, if we could do that, there'd never be any wars at all!"

  "But should not those fighting and dying in the conflict have the most say in when the conflict is no longer worth the eff-"

  "Look, I don't care how simply you do it in spider society!" I said, slamming my hand on my map. "Human laws are more complicated. We have to follow Oakley's orders, no matter what! Now look, he's ordered us to patrol today, and I want to do the same as last time, drop into the valley to meet Red-Stripe, then leave with some old skulls."

  The spider lowered all four of his eyes to face down at me. That was disapproval, I had learned. "The hunting parties had to leave behind a significant kill, due to your lack of warning for the last patrol. Red-Stripe will not be pleased."

  "But he'll still give us skulls, right? We promised to look into his river snake problem."

  "That is in the future. What will the hunting parties feed their families today?"

  I slumped back into my chair. There was one easy option, of course, but I didn't feel like dying again. Or being eaten. There was a second option, which, like everything else recently, would take us deeper down the rabbit hole.

  "I'll take care of it," I sighed. "Tell Red-Stripe to expect delivery of a tribute this morning."

  I spotted my favorite doctor eating alone as I waited in the cafeteria line. I couldn't stop glancing back as I filled my plate, watching her tuck her red hair absently behind her ear or bite her lip as she read something engrossing off her tablet. I also noticed her looking up at me while I got my food with the other c
lones, and making notes on her pad. She must have noticed my attention because a blush spread on her cheeks and she uncrossed and crossed her long legs tightly.

  Which is why I didn't expect to startle her when I sat down across the table.

  "Soup and salad for breakfast, Doct-"

  "Ahhh!" she gasped, almost dropping her tablet into her tomato soup as she scrambled to turn it off. "Excuse me, soldier!" she said indignantly, before looking at my nametag. "Oh. Lieutenant Forrest. I didn't know you were here. What were you saying?"

  "You didn't know I was..." I shook my head. "Fine. I was just saying, that's a strange choice for breakfast, Doc."

  "This is dinner, Lieutenant. I work nights, if you hadn't noticed. And you're not quite following the food pyramid, either," she finished, nodding at my plate.

  It was filled with raw carrots and apples, which I had planned on stuffing into my fatigue pockets as soon as I got out of sight.

  I gave her my best smile. "Well, it's this new body, Doc. I'm just finding my appetite for red and orange things greatly... increased."

  The red-headed doctor set her mouth in a line. "That's not possible, Lieutenant. You're exactly the same as you were before. In ALL your preferences."

  I bent over and talked low, so only she could hear. "And what if I didn't believe you? What if I told you that, each time I resurrected, I found myself wanting things I never noticed before?"

  My breath was brushing on her cheek, and I could feel the warmth radiating off her neck as I looked down at her. She looked good in the morning.

  Shannon Murphy blushed, then leaned forward and gripped my forearm with her cool hand.

  "Come see me in my room tonight," she whispered right into my ear. "Alone." She uncrossed her legs and walked off, leaving half her food uneaten.

  Well. That was certainly progress. Wasn't it?

  "Women are horniest in the morning, right?" I asked Zazlu as he jogged besides me.

  "I am unsure. My grandfather's harem had a schedule, so a selection of women would be available at all times." He smiled. "The hours didn't seem to affect their enthusiasm."

  We jumped a small stream and kept running through the field. "And you know this how?"

  He smiled larger. "I greatly enjoyed spending summers at my grandfather's compound. But this is not why you're asking."

  The farmhouses were in view now. "I think I've got a date tonight. Which is morning for her. And the way Doc grabbed my arm, I was wondering if I should get my hopes up."

  Zazlu frowned. "It is best not to trust Doctor Murphy until we find out what she knows about Lieutenant Ridley."

  "Zaz, she's not like that. She's professional and honest and-"

  "Then why would you change that with a romantic adventure? I wish Red-Stripe could send you the metaphor I'm picturing right now. It involves a man squatting in the cafeteri-"

  "Don't shit where you eat? Yeah, Zaz, I've heard that one before."

  "Then imagine how much more it applies to the woman who makes sure you return from the dead correctly," he said, frowning and pulling up to a walk.

  I did too, because we where here. Jogging in a rational straight line, it had taken us ten minutes to cover what Hughes usually made us run flat-out for twenty minutes to reach. Worse than that, I had actually enjoyed the exertion. These bodies were made to run. I hoped that's the only bit of Hughes' wisdom I would adopt.

  We caught our breath, which was easy, as we walked up to the first farmhand we saw, smiling and waving.

  "Take me to your leader," I said.

  Which turned out to be the guy who had been operating the backhoe the day Hughes had made us dig the ditch. And the one who had embarrassed Oakley in the cafeteria. His name was Franz Tornier, and he already had the hard, penetrating squint that frontier farmers get from a long life of working outdoors.

  "Yep, I certainly appreciate all Infinity Squad is doing to keep us safe," he said, then spat over his shoulder so it wouldn't hit our boots or those of the other family leaders gathered around us. "It seems like you're the only boys that are doing anything out there. And it's a shame how hard the brass is riding you." He spat again. "But I still can't trade you five head of sheep."

  Zazlu had offered of whiskey, beer, or even hinted of having 'stronger stuff'. But nothing caught the farmer's interest.

  "Like I told you," Tornier continued, "we'll be stilling our own potato vodka in a few months, so we can wait for that. I understand your need for spider bait, but we could only bring 200 head through the gate so I can't see parting with these sheep. I just don't think you boys have anything we need."

  Zazlu looked at me. We hadn't wanted to go this far, but times were times. I gave him a tired nod.

  "There is one thing that all farmers want," Zazlu began. "But we'll need your word that you'll never let any other soldier know about it..."

  Tornier was grinning as we unloaded the crate of rifles from Jinx's running helo. Juan and Zaz ducked low under the spinning blades as they muscled the crate to the ground and opened it. I grabbed Tornier's shoulder.

  "Now, you promise- this is off the record," I yelled over the engine noise. "You can't let any other soldiers see you with these!"

  "What if they hear us plinking at practice targets?" he yelled as he drew back the bolt on a black .308 caliber Advanced Infantry Rifle/Grenade launcher and aimed down the sights. "We'll have to practice if we're going to defend our homes from everything this planet's got on it."

  "That's why I want your group to have them. But we'll have to work out a practice schedule. Maybe we fly some of your guys deep out to the desert with us. Just dry fire until then!"

  He pulled the trigger on an empty chamber, dry firing at a spot on the horizon, then lowered the rifle from his shoulder and grinned at me. "You have a deal."

  Tornier took us out to the sheep pens and waved his hand. "The males are on this side of the fence. Take your pick."

  I opened the gate and the flock of males drew back from me and Zaz. Which is why I had stuffed my pockets in the cafeteria. I crouched to make myself smaller and less threatening, then held my palm out, full of carrots and cut apples, and didn't move.

  Neither did the sheep.

  "They ain't horses," Tornier laughed. "That ain't gonna work!"

  I tossed the food on the ground and stood up. "Well, how are we supposed to get them on the helo and keep them still during the flight?"

  Ten minutes later, Zazlu and I each dumped an unconscious male sheep onto the back of the chopper where Juan sat, then went back for another. This time was easier, because now we knew exactly where to club their heads with our rifle butts. Tornier even helped us carry one back, and we took off with five sleeping sheep towards the valley.

  Ann-Marie was still limping, we didn't need a medic or a tech, or need any of the privates knowing about our deal with the farmers, which is why I only took Zaz and Juan with me. And we needed space for the sheep. Which started waking up as Jinx lowered us into the valley. Zazlu moved to knock them out again, but I stopped him.

  "Spiders like the hunt," I said.

  He nodded and lowered his rifle.

  We landed and Red-Stripe and his ring of hunters ghosted out of the brush to meet us again.

  We have bought you a tribute to replace your losses, I thought, shooing one sluggish sheep off the chopper. It sobered up quickly as it noticed the shiny black Hell-Spiders all around. It bolted, looking for a break in the ring and one of Red-Stripe's companions galloped after it.

  Then I realized I had never seen a Hell-Spider at full speed, until now.

  The horse-sized hunter closed the distance with the sprinting sheep as fast and as nimble as any border collie. He always turned at just the correct direction and time to get closer, as if he knew which way the panicked sheep was going to zig-zag next. Which I realized he did. It paid to be psychic when you were a hunter.

  Now locked just feet behind the scrambling prey, the spider started toying with it, nipping at its flanks w
ith short strikes of his razor claws. The sheep cried out in pain at each poke, and after the first five, I just wanted it done already. Especially when the wool over the sheep's flanks turned pink, then red and the chase still went on.

  Why doesn't he just kill it already? I thought to Red-Stripe.

  "Does it bite with poison when attacked? Does it explode?"

  What? No!

  "Then what are its defenses?"

  It has no defenses! It is made to be eaten!

  "Oh."

  Red-Stripe must have given a command because then the hunter brought the running sheep down with one precise thrust of his razor claw into its spine. The hunter and two other spiders cautiously approached the dying beast, investigating it. After a minute, they were satisfied and started cutting it into thirds. Red-Stripe approached me.

  "These will do," he said, clear and audible even over the noise of the blades. "The scales have balanced."

  I nodded and pushed the other four sheep out of the helo. Spiders came to surround the terrified beasts.

  Thank you. And we promise, patrols will not visit your valley again. We will give you as much notice as possible for patrols in other areas.

  "Please do. We are still uneasy about sharing our hunting grounds with your clan."

  As are some of us. But we are working to change that. If we go investigate your river snake problem in the western swamps right now, could you have four spider skulls ready when we return?

  Red-Stripe bowed, which I had come to learn as gratitude. "Gladly."

  "Let's go," I told Jinx through our mikes, and the helo took off again.

  The jungle valley extended for another fifteen miles to the west before the river running down its middle emptied into a boggy marsh. Which turned into a full blown swamp in just another few miles. Islands of trees and vines mixed with long stretches of green, stagnant water. In some places you could see a few feet through the algae to the bottom of the swamp. But there were other large areas the size of ponds where the water went black and very deep. The place even smelled like an Earth swamp, the moist air heavy and full of decay.