by David Ryker
I’d read up on it before the exam, and on how to combat it. The only way was through desensitization. Sim training hardened you to it. I’d been putting in my hours.
“She’ll come around.” Kepler sighed, crumpled the wrapper and tossed it into the fire. It crackled and spat flames into the air.
Sim sickness was the mind rejecting the simulation. It was the refusal to accept one reality over another. Those who couldn’t compartmentalize the transition suffered like that — shakes, nausea, fever. It was basically withdrawal. It usually passed quickly, but it looked rough all the same. I stopped staring and went back to Kepler. “How long have you been awake?”
She checked her watch. “Two and a half hours.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Two and a half… But—”
She read my mind. “Time dilation. In full-immi it’s cranked up to eleven. The twelve hours we’re down will feel like weeks, months maybe.” She shrugged and poked the fire. “If we last that long.”
I opened my mouth to comment but decided it was best just left at that. She didn’t seem like she was in a great mood. I studied her bottom lip for a moment. She kept licking it. She looked a little drawn. Her hand was shaking. I didn’t say anything, but I would have put money on it that she was feeling a little bit of sim sickness herself, and just wouldn’t admit it.
She snapped the stick between her fingers and threw it into the fire, standing up quickly. She grunted under her breath, and then kicked snow over one of the nearby sleeping recruits. “I wish they’d just get on with it already. You know, I was second up — she was first,” she muttered, nodding to the shaking mass of cloak to my left. “Dunno how long for. She was sitting in the snow when I came to. I built the fire right away, but she was practically freezing, couldn’t stand on her own. I was probably only a few seconds behind her going under. You can’t have been more than a couple behind me. And now we’re stuck waiting for these idiots.” She kicked more snow.
“Do you know what our objective is?” I asked, trying not to worsen her mood.
She scoffed. “No. I don’t know if we will know. I don’t know anything about any of this. All I know is that nothing’s going to happen while they’re sleeping. When they wake up, then maybe something happens — we get orders, or there’s some environmental shift or occurrence. Who knows?” She returned to the fire and tossed a couple more twigs on from a small pile in the snow. The flames died a little. “This is just a fucking loading screen. And we’re going to have to sit here until they go under, eating into our rations and freezing our fucking butts off.” She sank onto the log and buried her head in her hands, grumbling.
I suddenly had the urge to hug her, but I resisted it. Maybe it was the cold. That’s what I told myself. I doubted she was the hugging type, anyway, and I didn’t feel like getting punched so soon after my face had healed. I didn’t know what it was — maybe just a glimmer of humanity from her. Either way, it was good to see. It was almost… Nice. She was her hard old self, but for a second there was something under the shell, something human in her. It resonated with me. I was scared. I had been since the second that dropship swept in over Genesis and tossed me. I was scared that everything was going to change, and end. There hadn’t been a moment where I didn’t feel like I was counting down to death. And with everyone around so sure, so casual about the whole thing, like we weren’t hurtling through space toward some distant rock that was more than likely going to be the place we’d die, it was grinding me down. Seeing this wobble in her, the most sure of all, was reassuring, and just for a second, I didn’t feel scared. I didn’t feel alone. I clenched my fists and willed myself to stay where I was and stop staring at her, but I couldn’t.
“Where are we?” I asked after a couple of seconds.
She looked up, and then at the trees, and then the stacks, and then back. She shrugged. “Don’t know. Could be somewhere real, could be built for this. Not like anywhere I’ve ever been.”
“Have you travelled a lot?” I was curious — I didn’t know a damn thing about her.
She sighed and I felt a harsh remark coming, but she didn’t give it. She glanced at the shivering recruit across the fire, and then her eyes settled on me. Maybe she just wanted to kill time, maybe it was to take her mind off the cold. Either way, she gave in. “Yeah, I guess. I grew up on the Falmouth. It’s the only place I’ve ever called home. It’s always moving somewhere — to pick troops up, or drop them off. It docks with this station or that one, goes into orbit around planets, meets with other ships — so yeah, I’ve been around.”
“Have you seen many planets? Been on them?” I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice. I’d only ever been on Genesis and it was a ball of dust.
“A couple. When we could. Most of the places the Falmouth goes are warzones — go figure. Not exactly the perfect places to hop in a dropship and cruise on down to the surface.” She looked wistful in the firelight. “But there were times — some good times.”
“We?”
“Me, my dad — my brothers.” She smirked for a second. I didn’t want to ask why she hadn’t mentioned her mother.
“I don’t have any family,” I said quickly, without meaning to.
She stopped poking the embers with a stick and stared at me. “None?”
I gestured to the white section on my head. “Tuber.” I shrugged. “Guess you can’t miss what you never had, right?” I tried to laugh it off, but she was too decent to join in. It died in the evening air.
“I’ve got three of them — brothers, I mean.” She shook her head. “All older.”
“All enlisted?”
She nodded. “Yeah. One’s a pilot, one’s an engineer, and the other…” She trailed off and stared into the distance.
I didn’t have to ask. Those statistics they gave us weren’t made up, that was for sure. I let her go on when she was ready.
“My father — he’s still around. A lieutenant colonel now. Last I heard he was on rotation on a destroyer in the Leeam System. Peacekeeping. That’s what they call it.” She tsked. “It’s just a show of bravado though.” She snapped the stick and tossed it on the flames. It was the last one. “It’s basically just flaunting their firepower — the Federation — showing the donkey the stick. And it’s a big stick. No one needs to get hit by it to know it hurts.” She shrugged. “Peacekeeping.”
“Big shoes to fill.”
She stared at me, wringing her hands. “Something like that.”
The last of the twigs crackled. The temperature was falling with the sun. “I’ll get more firewood,” I said, standing up.
She rose to her feet too. “Don’t worry, I’ll go.”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”
“Seriously, I’ll do it.” She clenched her fist to stop her hand shaking.
I took a breath and looked up at the darkening sky. “Let me.” She looked gaunt, pale. “You said yourself it could be a while. Get some rest.”
“I’m fine,” she said flatly.
“I’m not saying you’re not. But this is an exam, right? A test? You want to be at your best — we need you at your best. So take a minute, grab some sleep, get yourself straight.” I pointed at her hand. “And get that under control.”
She pulled her fist behind her back but didn’t say anything.
I nodded to her and turned away, heading toward the woods. I heard her sigh and then take her place on the log. “Maddox?” she called.
I paused. “Kepler?”
She pointed over the group of sleeping recruits to a pile of rucksacks. “There’s a hatchet in each of our packs.” She smiled, her hand dropping to her lap. “And call me Alice.”
12
I tracked back through the snow with an armful of firewood to find that the exercise had been pointless.
Everything had been soaked by the snow, so it’d taken well over an hour to gather anything remotely dry, and now it didn’t matter either way. I dropped what I was carrying, cursed myself for wasting the t
ime and energy, and stretched my back.
Alice was standing among the recruits, all of whom were awake. She’d snuffed out what was left of the fire and buried it under the snow. Everyone was gearing up, pulling their rucksacks on, checking their weapons. Alice was ready to move out. She looked up as I approached. “Maddox, good of you to finally show up.” She smiled wickedly at me.
We were back to this, then. I nodded to her and watched as her expression softened a touch. She returned it, barely. It was hidden. Hidden from anyone else in case they saw she had a modicum of leniency in her. This was her show, and whether she was wearing epaulets or not, there was no doubt who was in charge here.
I shouldered my rucksack and tightened it. “Where are we going?” I asked.
She turned and pointed through the trees, toward the stacks. Now that the day had faded from the sky, a dim glow was visible in the distance, thrown from some unseen source.
“That’s all we have to go on?”
“What more do you want? A big fucking sign?” Some of the other recruits chortled at the remark.
I preferred her when she was on her own. A lot less bravado. A lot less attitude.
Jonas sidled out from the shadow of one of the trees. “You could always just stay here where it’s safe, you know, if you’re scared.” He smirked at me and the chorus laughed again.
For a second, a deathly silence reigned, and then the bullets started flying.
The first one ripped right through the middle of us, slicing the air just over my right shoulder, and parting two of the recruits next to the campfire.
The second impacted a birch about ten feet to my right. The trunk exploded in a shower of splinters and wooden chunks. The sound of the shots rippled through the forest and everyone dived to the ground for cover. The snow stung my fingers and slid down my collar as I crawled sideways, the bullets still flying. I watched another hit a tree and blow a hole in it the size of an orange. Slow firing rate. Very high caliber rounds. Not anti-personnel. No, anti-vehicle. I listened, straining my ears over the shouts from the recruits and my own heart. I could hear thudding, distantly. What the hell was engaging us? I racked my brains. I’d taken in so much information in the last few months and it was spinning around my head, clothes in a dryer, tumbling without any sense. I forced myself to focus and dragged myself next to the other recruits, who were all lying face down in a huddle. These were long distance rounds, coming from deeper in the forest. What could be in there? It wouldn’t be handheld — that was for sure. The thing would have to be huge to carry something of that caliber. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. No, the terrain was too rough, the snow too deep — nothing would be out alone, either. If there was a force roving the forest, there’d be lots of gunfire. And any militarized unit worth their salt would get closer anyway — creep up to maximize the chances of a successful encounter. Long range engagement was more likely to be something automated — scanning. We’d tripped its sensors maybe — the noise, or heat signatures, and it’d let loose. Tank? No — the trees were too dense. Drone? No, the angle was too flat, it wasn’t flying. It was slow moving, heavy. The thudding. What did it mean? Something bi-pedal? A spider walker maybe? Yeah, could be. I listened harder, ignoring the yells of the recruits asking what the hell we were going to do. Thud-thud, thud-thud. Four legs. Must be a spider walker equipped with an anti-vehicle cannon, maybe an .82, or something bigger. Another trunk exploded and the tree collapsed on itself falling with a crack. A plume of snow rose into the air and swirled around the bullets as they punched through the cloud.
Alice was lying a few feet away, facing me. Everyone was yelling. I caught her eye and saw something there I didn’t expect to — fear. We looked at each other for a second, and I knew that no one was going to do anything. Everyone was waiting for an order that wasn’t coming. If I yelled, nothing would happen — no one would listen. Not to me. It had to be her. They’d listen to her.
I reached out and took a fistful of frozen ground, dragging myself forward until I was face to face with her. I gripped her wrists and held them, felt them shaking in my hands. “Alice, listen to me,” I yelled above the din. The thudding was louder, the bullets closer.Her bottom lip was shaking, face dusted with snow.
“It’s a walker — a spider. One cannon. Anti-vehicle, large caliber. It’s not that close — if it was, it’d have hit true with one of the first rounds. We need to get out of here. We have to move. If it gets here and we’re lying down, it’s going to obliterate us, one by one.”
“What do we do?” she croaked, unable to find that verve she usually carried.
I clenched my jaw. There was only one thing to do. “Run. On your order, we get up and we run. Everyone splits up, breaks formation. We RV at the foot of the stacks.” I swallowed, hard. “It’s all we can do. Run. And hope.”
She bit her tongue and stared at me, looking for another option in my face. She didn’t find one. After a second she nodded, a little at first, and then more. “Okay. Yeah.”
I smiled and let go of her wrist, going for her hand. Her fingers closed around mine and gripped hard. “You can do this, alright? We’re getting out of here.”
She returned the smile and nodded, more decisively this time before drawing a breath and turning her head. “Okay, on my mark, we get up, and we run for it!”
“Run for it? You’re crazy. We’ll be torn apart!” someone yelled, their face buried in the snow.
“Then stay here. Die. Everyone else — on my go. We head for the stacks, RV there, okay?” Her voice was thickening, hardening as she found her rhythm. She looked at me again, a flicker of a smile of thanks playing on her lips, and then she yelled. “Now!”
We all scrambled to our feet in one tangle of bodies and split in different directions, peeling away from the makeshift camp. Alice ground her heels in and headed sideways. I followed automatically, with three or four others in tow. I could hear Jonas’ heavy panting and swearing behind me, along with the others. Alice was leading, picking her path, and we stuck right on her ass. She’d been training — that was for sure. She was fast as hell. I could barely keep up. That advantage I’d had when I’d first come on board was gone. If she kept up like this, I was going to be left behind. I gritted my teeth and sucked in hard, ashy breaths, pumping my legs through the snow as hard as I could.
Alice peeled right toward the stacks, visible through the trees. I skidded in the snow and followed her, slingshotting around a tree. I heard someone grunt behind me and then tumble into the snow, but I didn’t look back. A second later, I was jerked backward. I lost my balance and tucked my shoulder, throwing myself into a roll. Jonas streaked past, hand still outstretched, face stricken with fear. He’d shoved whoever was behind me and grabbed for my pack. Good thing he hadn’t gotten a decent grip.
I pushed myself up and kept moving, the bullets still flying. Two more people overtook me before I picked up pace, following the gray packs in front. I could see Jonas up ahead, elbows high, charging forward like a bull. I tried to make up the ground but couldn’t. I’d lost my momentum and my bag felt heavy. I considered dropping it, but it had everything in it — food, clothing, weapons, combat gear, a sleeping bag and tarp. Without it I’d be frozen before dawn. I pulled myself along on the trees until I found my footing and then got the hammer down, my feet churning, boots soaked.
I watched in the dying light as Jonas made up ground on Alice. She was running hard, and the bullets were flying faster. The spider was gaining ground on us, no doubt pissed we’d made a break for it. Its fire had picked up, concentrated on us. I couldn’t tell if another had joined the chorus. Splinters rained all around. The deep chugging of an engine pierced the night. The throb and hum of hydraulics. The boom of its steel shod feet puncturing the ground with each fall, gears churching as it trudged through the forest. Where the fuck were we and what the fuck was going on? I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, my vision strobing in black and color, my muscles aching, lungs burning.
The sound of her hitting the tree was dull and deep, like the kick of a drum. The bag rose over her shoulder and her feet shot out behind her, throwing powder into the still air. She somersaulted and landed face down in the snow.
The bullets kept flying and three bodies streaked past. Jonas was in the lead and the two he had in tow kept running. None of them made an attempt to stop. I could hear Alice grunting, swearing in the snow, trying to get out from under her bag. I didn’t think before I slung my bag off my shoulder and dived into it next to her. She’d plunged in up to the shoulders and driven the snow into a mound around her head.
I sank my fingers into the fabric of her rucksack and pulled, hard. I slipped and slumped backwards, breath ragged in my throat. The tree next to us caught a bullet and groaned under the strain, waving. A engine howled, too close. The tree showered us with ice. Alice swore. I took one of the straps and yanked. She yelped in pain, but there was no time for gentle. Come on, get the fuck out of the snow! My hand found the shoulder strap and I gave it everything I had. She slid free and keeled backward onto me. The wind leapt out of my lungs and she kicked her legs to get free of the white coffin. I pushed her off, throwing her bag over her hip. She twisted to her knees in front of me, on the path that the others had tread. Her eyes met mine and I saw the fear there again, her eyelashes and hair caked in snow. Her hat was gone, lost in the powder. There was a moment of stillness as she stared at me. The cry of the hydraulics and the thump of the feet were right on us. The ground shook with each fall. I dared not look over my shoulder. Her face said it all. Her eyes moved from my face and went sideways and up. Twenty feet, maybe thirty, staring up the barrel of the cannon that had chased us to death. I felt something colder than snow run down my spine. My breathing stopped in my chest, my diaphragm refusing to move.