by Gavin Magson
Rex came running into what was left of the room, struggling to keep his footing on the ruined floor. He cleared away rubble from the two men, their curses barely heard above the ringing in his ears.
“Why do we keep doing this shit?” cried Jerry as he struggled back to his feet.
“Never mind that, let’s get the fuck out of here; the assault has begun.” said Rex.
The three men salvaged what equipment they could, making quick work of dismantling and packing the armoured plates away. Beyond their ruined hideout the large dust cloud was slowly dispersing, revealing the carnage it had hidden. The streets echoed with the sound of gunfire, two hundred mercenaries streaming towards the compound.
The trio reached rooftop level as another explosion, this one more distant than the first, rocked the compound in the distance. Miles focused his eyes on the furthest section as best he could and was saddened by the sight he saw; hundreds of people streaming for the large hole in the encircling wall, running for safety, only to be shot down by the mercenaries charging towards them.
“What is it?” asked Jerry when he caught Miles’ expression.
“It’s a massacre; Boden’s men aren’t leaving any survivors.”
“That wasn’t the plan, Rine specifically said minimal collateral damage and to keep the workers alive; he needs them for when his people take over. What do we do?” asked Rex.
Miles kept his eyes focused in on the compound, monitoring the fighting going on. The guards had regrouped and were trying to fight off the twin assault but were stretched too thin to have a chance to repel the attack. Both sides were scything down the unarmed workers without hesitation, and the bodies were starting to mount up at the two ruined sections of wall.
“Lads, nothing we do is going to stop Boden and his men from committing this atrocity; the bloodlust is upon them.” said Miles solemnly.
“We are leaving them to die if we do nothing.” spat Rex through gritted teeth.
“What would you have me do? Take a few shots at the mercs and watch as this building and hundreds more lives are eliminated? No, we have no choice but to report Boden’s actions and hope Rine has more command over the dog.”
“There’s a pit near the eastern wall, it looks like it’s filled with Zernoric.” Miles turned to look at the area Jerry pointed towards, using his enhanced sight to better see what Jerry has spotted through the surplus scope of his rifle. “If it hasn’t fully vented off the fumes it should still be explosive. There are two more near the compounds centre. We could take out the wall and cover their retreat with the remaining pits. What do you say?”
The pit was approximately fifty feet long and thirty wide, the distinct red tinged liquid did appear to Miles to be the volatile Zernoric found in certain narcotics. Looking beyond the pit Miles gauged the distance between it and the nearest section of wall and swore; Jerry was on to something. The central pits were smaller, but either would make even the most hardened mercenary stop in their tracks.
“If Boden finds out what we have done here our lives are likely forfeit; are you both happy with taking that risk?”
His men turned to look at each other before nodding in near unison. Miles shook his head, the sheer stupidity of what he knew had to be done weighed over him. He ejected his rifles magazine and substituted it with the one magazine he had filled with explosive tipped rounds. The chambered round tinkled as it landed on the floor, replaced by one far deadlier.
A target that size didn’t require aiming, but he did so nonetheless. Miles took one last look at the massacre in progress, the sight left him with little doubt that his men were right. A gentle squeeze of his finger expelled the round from his rifle, the bullet hurdling towards its target. As it struck the submerged wall of the pit the bullets payload ignited and exploded, causing the red tinged liquid to rise up into the air. At the peak of its height the pool ignited and expanded violently, the plume raising hundreds of feet as it tore through all surrounding structures.
The men shielded themselves from the bright blast, only glimpsing back when the glow had subsided enough to allow their eyes to open.
A long stretch of wall was completely eviscerated, the remnants of it hurled dozens of feet away and now ablaze. Those in the compound who overcame the explosion quickest were already fleeing for the new exit, some dragging friends or family behind them. Miles went to raise his rifle once more, but Jerry’s hand caught the barrel before he could do so.
“What? You wanted their retreat covered, didn’t you?”
“If we wait long enough those mercenaries are going to be alongside the pits. Fire then and Boden’s army will be little more than a rabble.” answered Jerry.
Miles weighed up the idea, much to his own disappointment that he even considered it. There was a part of him that agreed with Jerry, despite the death toll such an action would cause.
“I know you aren’t asking out of malice, but you ask too much of me. We cover their escape, but I won’t save one and condemn scores to death, not unless they were my enemy.”
Jerry moved aside as his leader raised the rifle once more. The gun bucked once and, a handful of seconds later, another pit erupted into a violent ball of purple and orange flames. The pursuing mercenaries were stopped in their tracks as they funnelled towards the blazing pits and Miles finally felt his tensed body begin to relax.
Chapter 32
“Come in.” Major’s voice carried through the heavy door before Raúl had even come to a stop. He took a deep breath as the door began to slide sideways into the wall.
Major’s office was sparsely furnished, a reflection of how the man lead his life. Behind the imposing seated figure of Major was a glass wall, through which Raúl couldn’t fail to notice the storm assaulting the base. Dark clouds covered the skies for miles, intermittently illuminated with the flashes of lightning as it forked its way to the Outerlands beneath.
“Don’t just stand there, man; what is it you want?”
Raúl did his best not the flinch as his boss barked out the question, though he could feel a tremble in his body that wouldn’t be stilled.
“Ajax is bored, sir.”
“Bored? Tell him to read through our reports on Vax Seven, get himself prepared for the ground assault. The lad doesn’t seem like a natural reader, it should keep him occupied for a while.”
“I’ve already handed him all the data I have on Vax Seven and he has produced some interesting material based on it, I wouldn’t be quick to assume what his limitations are. He seems more like a caged bull, ready to unleash his anger at a moment’s notice. Is it too soon to send him on your assignment?” pleaded Raúl.
Major remained silent as he mulled over what Raúl had told him. “I’m intrigued by what he has produced, make sure to send me a copy. As for my task, surely you haven’t failed to notice the storm assaulting our base? These aren’t ideal conditions for him to be sent out in, but once the storm has passed it won’t be long until he’s dispatched. Is there any training we could deliver to vent his frustration?”
“If it weren’t for fear he would only end up killing one of your men we could have organised some sparring for him. I would suggest my simulant, but since I have only managed to model a Believer Sergeant the risk of serious injury is too great. I would need a few more samples, and at least a couple months, to create a foot soldier simulant; perhaps after Vax Seven, if our forces return with any live samples. Maybe some sort of exercise rig could be organised for him?”
“A Believer Sergeant?” Major paused at his own question, giving Raúl a deep, thoughtful stare whilst he pondered an idea. “That would be a fantastic demonstration for Lixion. How close to the real deal would you say your simulation is?”
Raúl tried his best not to swear, though the urge was strong at such a stupid thought. Believer Sergeants were renowned for their ferocity, far more than any other common unit. What they lacked in the skills the higher ranks possessed was made up through brute strength and blistering reactions
.
“It’s accurate enough that a real Believer would likely be fooled, expect for the lack of neural uplink. Same build, similar reflexes, fully simulated ferocity, but I have no control over the simulant robot, save for a Deadman control that will render it irreparably lifeless. If you wanted me to program in some limitations, such that it would tone down the speed or strength, I could probably come up with a solution, given enough time.”
“No, leave it as is. If Ajax is to fight the Believers one day soon I want him put through a trial by fire. Arrange for a room to be cleared that they might fight in, one with a safe viewing area for Lixion and myself; I’ll make the relevant arrangements with the lord myself. Once ready I want Ajax brought there unarmed, and without time to prepare. You can tell him about the simulant, but do not tell him it is a sergeant; I want him to believe this is a basic foot soldier.
Raúl knocked lightly on the quarters door before scanning his implant against the access pad. The doors opened to present Raúl with an empty room, which left him baffled. He stepped inside and managed not to drop what he held as a figure appeared from behind him, a knife resting lightly against his throat.
“It’s me, Ajax, it’s Raúl.” he managed to squeak whilst the blade threatened to pierce his skin.
As suddenly as it appeared the pressure was released, the knife removed. As Ajax stepped around the scientist Raúl made a mental note to have a thorough search of the quarters for all weapons, and to remove yet more of the furnishings.
“Sorry, Raúl, some old habits are difficult to suppress. To what do I owe this visit?” asked Ajax, sitting down on the remaining chair.
Raúl ignored Ajax’s nakedness, which was something he had slowly adjusted to over the previous weeks since the man had eradicated all trace of Henry Steel. He knew that this behavioural change was part down to boredom, part rebellion against the structured regime imposed on Ajax.
“I’ve been to see Major about your boredom. He and I have managed to come up with a mutually beneficial solution to keep you from wasting away before his next assignment.”
Ajax sat forward in the chair, no longer relaxed and docile. There was even the faintest hint of a smirk upon his face.
“Do go on.”
“I built a simulant of a Believer to model their military training and reaction to stimulus; a full-scale recreation of their physiological makeup. The original purpose was purely to study the simulant, to determine best practices for combatting them in the theatre of war. Major would like you to train yourself for combat against the Believer units, as it is his intention that you will meet them in a future assignment.”
Raúl had played through this scenario on his way through the base to reach Ajax, attempting to predict what reaction he would receive. He knew the man would revel in a new challenge, since he had already proven more than competent in the weapons training new recruits received, but he expected more intrigue than what Ajax offered.
“Are they good fighters?”
Raúl was taken aback by the blunt question. Ajax had been told little to nothing about the race, yet all he cared about was whether they could fight? Raúl tried not to show his frustration at the man.
“More than good, some of the best. Get the jump on a Believer with a high calibre weapon in your hands and you’ve a good chance of downing them first, but hand to hand they are quicker, smarter, and stronger than a standard human. Major wants you to train for that worst-case scenario, until you can prove that you can hold your own face to face.”
The smirk turned into a full grin, the grin of someone balancing on the end of their sanity; not for the first time did Raúl feel the prickle of fear sweep over him.
“I’ll prove far more than that I can hold my own, there’s no need to worry about that. All my time on Konar I’ve barely heard more than mutterings about this race; I relish the chance to test myself against them. When does Major want me to test myself against this Believer?”
“We are ready for you now. Get dressed and I’ll take you to the exercise hall, it’s been modified to accommodate you for this training. I will wait outside for you. Oh, and Ajax, don’t bring any weapons.”
Raúl turned and stepped through the door as it opened to a wave of his wrist, leaving Ajax to quickly gather up his clothes that were strewn around the room.
Ajax caught himself humming a strange tune as he danced around the detritus that he had allowed to build up. Cleaners would no longer tend to his room, after he had almost beheaded one who startled him whilst he slept. Once clothed he opened his quarters door and stepped out to join Raúl.
“You will be searched once we reach the exercise hall; I trust that no weapons will be found on you?” asked Raúl.
“My body is a weapon, I could hardly leave that behind. No, you’ll find no shives, blades, or guns on me.”
Raúl lead Ajax through the base, down into its bowels where all training and exercise was carried out by the ever-changing number of personnel. Ajax had tried to question Raúl before as to the true purpose of the base but had been stonewalled thus far. He knew it was a military installation, Major had been opened about that, yet the evident covert nature of the building was hard to ignore.
He had considered trying to interrogate his escorts, whom he knew were assigned to make sure he didn’t try to escape or sabotage anything, instead of their alleged purpose of acting as his guides; Ajax knew better than to waste his time gaining information from the constant cycle of drones.
As Raúl came to a stop outside the exercise hall so did Ajax, raising his arms at the sight of two officers that stepped forward to search him for weapons. He was growing impatient, knowing that he was so close to a real challenge, something he had not faced in an age.
“Are you almost done here?” his stern words caused the closest officer to reel, a pair of eyes flared open in fear stared up at him whilst the woman reached for her sidearm.
“Stop!” the single word from Major was enough for her to freeze in place before slowly relaxing her grip on the holster.
Major was dressed to the nines, full military dress with extra ribbons for good measure. Ajax noted the additional pomp on display, along with the mischievous grin Major wore as he closed the gap to the taller man.
“Ajax, I’ve heard from Raúl that you are bored, that there is nothing to engage your mind whilst awaiting deployment. Would you say this is accurate?” still Major wore that grin, except now Ajax found it irritating him to no end.
“Raúl is not wrong. Your facilities are good for new recruits, and for experienced soldiers honing their skills. The problem is that exercise and drills is no replacement for facing a man, or woman, that wants to see you dead, who is willing to fight tooth and nail to make sure they survive. It doesn’t help that I do not even have a sparring partner, since word seems to have got out about my days in the sandpits.”
“I made sure none of my men were stupid enough to spar with you, since a crippled soldier is no good to me. Nonetheless, what Raúl has managed to concoct here will be more than a match for you. I hope he did not undersell the ferocity of a Believer soldier.”
Ajax glanced across at Raúl, who’s previously calm demeanour had evaporated to leave a nervous wretch once again.
“He made sure I knew this simulant was an accurate recreation of a Believer, and that taking it lightly was ill advised. I am eager for the challenge.” said Ajax.
“Then I won’t keep you waiting any longer. Raúl will activate the simulant once you give a thumb up to signal you are ready. Be warned, it was programmed to mimic the fighting style of a Believer soldier, not to show compassion to a downed enemy; it will kill you if you give it the opportunity to do so.” warned Major.
“I won’t take the fight lightly, you need not worry about that. Through here?” Ajax motioned at the closed doorway and, at the nod of Major’s head, the double doors slid away to reveal the exercise hall.
Ajax stepped inside, peering up at the rigging that several spotligh
ts now hung from. These lights were drowning the entire room with bright light, raising the temperature to an uncomfortable level. Ajax could already feel sweat beading along his spine, but the heat was certainly not affecting the figure before him.
As Ajax got close enough to inspect the Believer he was able to distinguish why it’s skin was so alien to him. The translucent covering, along with its muted orange sheen, hid from a distance that beneath the layer were thousands of interwoven fibres that closely resembled humanoid muscles. The fibres themselves were mostly grey, suggesting they were metallic, though he could intermittently see flecks of brighter colours within thicker bundles.
The soldier was bare chested, allowing Ajax to identify the similarities and differences to his own physiology. The Believer had a thick waist, suggesting prodigious core strength, but the flanks did not protrude as if ribs were underneath the fibres. Shorter than Ajax, the simulants arms and legs were narrower than his own, but Ajax did not assume this meant it would not be as strong as he.
He couldn’t identify anything tactically significant about the head, as whatever face the Believer had was hidden behind a white mask that, barring two eyeholes, was completely plain. No hair appeared above or around the mask, which did not come as a surprise; the translucent skin substitute was entirely devoid of hair.
Stepping back Ajax could appreciate that the solider was certainly built to fight, and whatever origins the Believers had they did not differ vastly from that of a human. The only way to truly find out more in this scenario was to test himself against the foreboding figure.
Ajax removed his t-shirt, which was already wet with his sweat. There was no evidence of perspiration on the Believers skin, though he noticed the movement in its chest and faint noises as it inhaled and exhaled steadily.
He turned to a viewing screen set into the top half of the wall to his right, behind which Ajax could see several figures alongside Major. He raised his right hand and extended his thumb to signal he was ready, and barely had time to dodge as a fist scythed the air where his head once was.