The Miserable Planet: Two Wheels by Jacob Lindaman
This book or the parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form stored in retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise – without prior written permission of the author except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to actual people, organizations, and/or events are purely coincidental.
ISBN: 9781310956768
Copyright © 2015 by Jacob Lindaman
All rights reserved
THE MISERABLE PLANET
#1
TWO WHEELS
“Alpha 8, this is Foxtrot Command requesting status. Over.”
“Didn’t I just provide my status a few minutes ago?”
“Alpha 8, you are reminded to adhere to standard communication protocol during all active military engagements.”
“Foxtrot Command, did I not just provide you with my status? Over.”
“Affirmative. Update current status Alpha 8.”
Alpha 8 picked up a mangled body with one arm of his mecha suit. Dark red blood oozed from the bullet wounds. An electroblade had hacked halfway through the woman’s thigh. Examining the upside-down carcass he replied, “No change.”
“Copy that Alpha 8. Please continue. Over and out.”
After a few minutes of sifting through the pile of dead warriors the assessor found what he was looking for; another mecha suit, but different than his. This one was designed for battle; the Forward Assault Combat Tiger or F.A.C.T. as the military often referred to them. But to those who used them they were simply called Tigers.
It was The Amino Corporation’s latest version and it was supposed to be able to wage a war by itself. Seven units could take out an entire division flanking an army. What a surprise that would be if you were the assailant. Equipped with the latest bread and butter from Amino’s R&D one Tiger could spread 4,000 rounds a minute from two mini-canon blasters for a good 20 minutes.
It could take a shot as well as dish it out. Anti-tank armor lined the enhanced exterior. It was tight too. It could take a direct shot from an EMP pulse cannon. Its host and computer would still be viable. It could withstand almost 15 continuous seconds of a focused laser array strike. And it was mobile; extremely mobile. Unlike the previous versions from Amino this baby was able to run circles around enemy personnel.
The suit had more innovations than Alpha 8 was privy to, but he knew everything depended on one new modification; the exoskeleton suit worn by the host within the Tiger. Somehow, he wasn’t certain, that new exoskeleton was able to bridge a gap between man and machine.
“Alpha 8,” Cavlin said, “might I suggest that when you return from this mission you take some time off for yourself. You seem a bit, oh I don’t…”
“That’s a good point Calvin. I’ll note that.”
“Another suggestion sir, if I may, while you are examining the remains of the deceased you ought to keep an eye out for any hostile survivors.”
“I thought that was your job?”
“It is, however, my abilities are limited by the technological input and output devices linked to this suit. Your visual capabilities serve a much more vital function than any of mine.”
“And you’re limited by your uplink to Foxtrot’s intelligence.”
“Correct.
“Calvin…. computer, silence. And stop calling me Alpha 8. You know I hate protocol. Call me Tuck.”
With Calvin hushed Tuck examined the Tiger lying before him. He directed Calvin to requisition data from the suit and tag it. Then he went off to find the next downed Tiger.
As he walked his mecha suit, an ancient version of the ones he was searching for, crunched bones beneath his feet. Fallen Amazons were everywhere. They had come out in mass numbers, but the Tiger proved to be everything it was expected to be. According to data from his scattered platoon of Battle Asset Assessors early estimates, performed by Assistive Onboard Logic Components - AOLC - such as Calvin, placed the number of dead enemy warriors at 90,000. Not bad for two dozen Tigers.
The hard part was finding them. The Tigers engaged the enemy across a long thin line stretched over 6 kilometers. So far, he had found three. One host was still alive, but delirious. Once he confirmed his vitals were stable and his Tiger so badly damaged that he wasn’t going to hurt himself Tuck tagged him with an ‘Alive and Well’ retrieval beacon.
The easiest way to find these things was to look for a pile of disfigured corpses. However, he stumbled across a lone Tiger on the ground. The host was dead. The hoses on his pack were cut. He had exhausted his ammunition. A javelin had been lodged through his faceplate. It must have been quite a throw. As Calvin examined the faceplate the data revealed it was littered with micro-bubbles. Probably a defect from the manufacturer. Poor fella.
After marking this one he proceeded to search for the next fallen soldier when Foxtrot contacted him again.
“Alpha 8, this is Foxtrot Command. Come in Alpha 8.”
“This is Alpha 8.”
“Alpha 8, your orders have changed. Sending new orders to AOLC Calvin now. Over.”
“Wait, what do you want me to do?”
“Upload complete. Speak to AOLC for specifics. Foxtrot Command out.”
“OK Calvin, what’s the deal?”
“Sir, it seems they want you to provide support to a small contingent of soldiers that may be pinned down.”
“What? I thought the battle was over.”
“It is. However, it seems one platoon was dropped behind enemy lines.”
“What? This doesn’t make sense. Computer contact Foxtrot.”
“I am trying, sir, but I am not getting a response.”
“What are the details then. They better have sent you specifics.”
“All I have is a location and an expanded map showing the probable terrain of this planet between you and them. Do you want me to calculate the easiest path?”
“Of course.”
Calvin displayed the map on Tuck’s faceplate. The platoon was 7 kilometers away. He switched to relief detail. All uphill. One stream…no wait there were two. The satellite imagery was next. It was almost all covered in forest. Except where the platoon was located. That looked more like a ravine of some sort. He zoomed in. Yes, definitely a rocky ravine. And there was another stream there too. He looked up at the darkening sky. Little drips of rain splashed on his glass faceplate.
“Earth,” he said, “what a miserable planet.”
The Miserable Planet #1 Page 1