by Craig Allen
On the ground where Bodin had stood, tiny little craters surrounded his footprints. The red stalks at Cody’s feet had also disappeared, leaving behind their own miniature craters.
“Happened when Sergeant Bodin showed up.” Jim went back inside the hopper. “They must not like sergeants. Or they didn’t want to get squashed.”
“I suppose not.” Cody took a few steps away from the hopper. A small patch of reeds stood some five meters from the hopper exit. Their open-ended tips pointed at Cody as he approached, as if they were curious. He knelt, moving his hand back and forth over the reeds. They mirrored the movement of his hand. Cody reached for one of the reeds, and as he did, they all closed up instantly and disappeared into the ground, leaving a tiny crater where they used to be. For ten meters around him, the reeds retreated into the dirt.
“Oh, my,” Cody said.
Jim snickered. “Try not to hassle the locals too much, okay, Doc?”
“Okay.” In the distance, the reeds waved. The wind had picked up, but it didn’t seem to affect the reeds’ movement. All of them had opened the tips of their stalks and pointed toward the camp.
On the hopper’s port side, Deveau sat on a rock that appeared to be mostly iron and other metals. He stared at a viewing pad in his hand.
Sonja dropped down from a side door that led to the hopper’s cockpit. She also wore a filter mask. She picked up a coil rifle that was leaning against the hopper. “The hopper’s transmitter’s shot. How’s the bridge-sat doing?”
Deveau tapped the viewer. “Bridge-satellite is in place. I guess we managed to deploy the thing after all.”
“Why didn’t they shoot it down?” Bodin asked from where he stood about ten meters away, scanning the horizon with his coil rifle at the ready. “Goddamn Spicans are getting sloppy if you ask me.”
“I’ll take any favors I can get,” Sonja said.
Jim brought out another crate from the hopper. “That’s a good point, though. During the war, the Spicans shot down every bridge-sat they found.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Cody said.
“Relief?” Sonja asked. “Funny, I don’t feel relieved.”
“What I mean to say is that things could be much worse.” Cody cleared his throat as Sonja glared at him. “We have two good pieces of news. It’s probably not the Spicans since they didn’t shoot down the bridge-satellite, which means we won’t have to fight anyone.”
“Makes you useless, clue,” Bodin said.
Cody ignored him. “It also means we can contact home, right?”
“I wish.” Deveau squeezed the viewer hard enough to make his knuckles turn white. “I can receive, but not transmit.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it. My codes aren’t working for some reason.”
“Could it be the atmosphere?” Cody asked. “With all this red dirt, I’d say this world’s rich with minerals. And with prevailing winds kicking it up into the air, could it interfere with a transmission?”
Deveau shook his head. “Don’t think so. This shit’s thick, but not thick enough. The bridge-sat is sensitive enough to pick up this thing”—he waved the viewer in the air—“from three times the distance. But it’s not that. My codes simply won’t give me full access. The sat’s there, but it isn’t responding to commands.”
“So we can’t call home.” Anne Salyard came around from the other side of the hopper, cradling her coil rifle. “What do we do now?”
“How long before they declare us missing?” Cody asked.
Anne worked her jaw for a second. “Well, we have to send a progress report every couple of days or so. If we miss two reports, SOP is to come after us. So, ETA is what, sixty-five days?”
Sonja nodded. “At least.”
Cody blinked. Sixty-five days? “We have food, right? And water…” Cody nodded toward the ocean. “Did the purifiers survive?”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Our suits can purify the water, no problem. As for food…”
When he didn’t finish, Cody prompted him. “What?”
Jim sighed heavily. “We have rations for about three weeks. There might be something edible here, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“That’s the least of our problems,” Deveau said.
Cody threw his arms in the air. “Not enough food is a big problem.”
Sonja picked up her rifle and held it behind her back. A bandoleer of some kind secured it in place automatically. “You’re forgetting we got shot down.”
Cody shook his head. “What—?”
“If the Spicans didn’t pop us, who did?” Bodin asked. “And are they gonna finish the job?”
~~~
The others had already suited up and were waiting on Cody. He stood just outside the hopper’s rear door while Jim helped him with the environmental suit. It draped across Cody’s small frame, as if it were several sizes too big. Jim ran his hand across the panel on the front. Cody let out a yelp as the suit shrank to fit him comfortably. The interior was form fitting, and the outer portion consisted of a layer of impact gel. It rippled under Cody’s touch. “Doesn’t seem very strong.”
Bodin walked over to Cody with a slight bounce in his step then punched him hard in the abdomen. Cody gasped. The gel around his torso turned a dark green, freezing solid at the impact point. A second later, it returned to a gelatinous form.
Jim raised his eyebrow as he ran his hand along his suit helmet, which pretty much consisted of a transparent glass-steel bubble. “Well, that wasn’t the demonstration I was going to give, but it’ll do.”
“Wow.” Cody patted the gel around his torso. “Impact gel as armor, huh?”
“Well, it’s not really armor,” Jim said. “It’s a survival suit. With real armor, you could hammer it with coil gun fire, and it would stand up to it. Well, for a while anyway. This stuff will protect you from the elements, thrown projectiles, and any critters who think you might be tasty.” He reached for Cody’s filtration mask. “Hold your breath.”
Cody inhaled and held it. Jim removed the mask and depressed a contact point just near Cody’s neck. A part of the suit unfolded and wrapped around Cody’s head. A split second later, the suit helmet had pressurized. A sense of claustrophobia overcame him. He started to reach for the helmet, and then resisted ripping the thing off his head.
Jim must’ve noticed his panic. “Yeah, I never get used to that, either.” Cody barely heard the thump as Jim rapped his knuckles against the face shield. “It’s as strong as the rest of the suit.” He ran his hand over Cody’s right wrist. A control system appeared in front of Cody’s face. “You see that?”
He nodded.
“Good, because I can’t. Only the wearer can see the heads-up display—the HUD. It’s to aid in stealth and that sort of thing. Don’t want to light up your face for everyone to see. The rest of the suit also has some nice features. Magnetic boots for when gravity goes out—you won’t need to use that here—recycling of waste, and some other things. But let’s cover stealth right now. See if you can pull it up.”
Cody ran through the virtual icons with his hand until he got to the proper place. Only the smallest hand gesture was necessary to perform basic functions. He scrolled until the stealth icon finally flashed into view. “Okay.”
“Activate it,” Jim said, “and hold out your arm.”
Cody did so. His arm appeared to be transparent, mixing with the dark-red ground beneath him. Jim waved his hand behind Cody’s arm. It was distorted, but still visible.
“The suit’s covered in optics and emitters. They’ll make the front of the suit look like what’s behind it. When you’re on the move, you’ll look like a blur. When you’re standing still, it’s like you’re not even there, at least to the bad guys.”
“Think we’ll actually see any bad guys?” Cody asked.
Jim shook his head. “Not unless it’s Spicans, and you kind of debunked that idea. Well, I hope you did.”
Cody smiled, trying to convince himself
that he was one hundred percent sure of that. He shut off the camo field.
“Try going through options on your HUD.”
The icons of the HUD seemed to sit about an arm’s length in front of the suit. The image projected directly onto his corneas created a three-dimensional HUD before him. Cody ran through various systems. Air filtration, consistency of impact gel, and comm system—everything seemed to be in working order. The HUD had already started to adapt to Cody’s eye movements and body motions.
“That’s about it,” Jim said. “Oh, one more thing. I know you’re used to projecting visuals on the inside of your cornea. You can’t do that here.”
“Why not?”
“I saw you doing it on the hopper. You got a bit overwhelmed. When you have bright images flashing around in your eyes that never go away even when you close them—well, that can get you in trouble. You get focused on the pretty pictures and miss the real threats around you.”
“I see. Or rather, I shouldn’t.”
Jim smiled. “If you want to look at an optical view, send it here.” Jim tapped a unit wrapped around Cody’s wrist. “Can you figure it out?”
He went through the menus in front of him and found it quickly. He pulled up a view labeled “Jim.” On his wrist viewer was a three-dimensional image of himself staring at his wrist. “Huh?”
Jim laughed. “That’s the optic reader on my suit.” He waved his hand in front of his suit’s optic. In response, the holo-view blacked out on Cody’s suit each time Jim’s hand passed in front of the optic. Cody shut off the view, and the image disappeared.
“Now for the tough part,” Jim said.
Bodin grinned. “A fiver says he falls flat.”
Deveau still fiddled with the viewer, trying to hit the bridge-sat. “No bet.”
“Salyard?”
Anne frowned. “I don’t know. He’s smart enough. He’ll probably figure it out.”
“That’s got nothing to do with it,” Bodin said.
“Figure what out?” Cody asked.
“Don’t worry about it, Doc.” Sonja nodded at Jim. “Go on, show him.”
Jim shrugged. “It’s time to learn about the NEMs.”
“NEMs?”
“Nanomolecular enhanced musculature.” Jim pointed at Cody’s limbs. “It’s intermeshed into the impact gel and the joints in the suit. The suit reacts to your actions and can enhance those same movements.” Jim pointed to a small patch on the side of his left index finger. “You can adjust here.” He bent his index finger until he could touch it with his thumb.
Cody did the same, running his thumb along the side of his index finger. A number appeared in his vision, telling him he was currently experiencing one-point-two g’s. He changed the apparent gravity to one g. The heaviness was still there, but when he flexed his knees, it was a little easier. Cody jumped. He fell to the ground quicker than normal, but the impact was no different from what it would have been on Earth.
“They use the artificial musculature just like in power armor,” Jim said, “but this stuff is not as strong. It’ll help simulate standard gravity even though we’re in higher gravity right now. It’ll also give you an extra boost when you jump or try to lift something heavy. Try walking.”
“Deveau?” Bodin called. “You sure you don’t want in?”
He waved them off as he continued to play with the viewer that was in contact with the bridge-sat.
“Salyard?”
“Yeah, I’m in,” Anne said. “Not too much at first, okay, Doc?”
Cody nodded as he took a step forward. His leg rose a little too high. It came down too fast for him to catch himself.
“Uh oh.” Cody tumbled before he could stop himself. The ground rushed toward his face more quickly than he’d expected. The gel around his torso hardened as he impacted the ground, and then it relaxed a second later. Through the intercom on his suit, he heard Bodin laugh.
“That’s five you owe me, Salyard,” Bodin said. “One, two, three, four, five.”
Cody stood up, which was easier than he expected. He gave a little too much force with his legs and managed to launch himself a meter into the air. When he landed, the suit’s actuators absorbed most of the impact. Somehow, he remained standing.
Anne smiled, but Sonja and Deveau were expressionless. Bodin simply shook his head. Cody wished the impact gel could also soak up the waves of shame that washed over him. “It’s a bit touchy.”
“That’s one word for it.” Sonja brushed red dust off his arm. “You should practice more.”
“I can help with that.” Anne walked up to Cody. Everyone looked at her, and she shrugged. “Well, what else are we going to do?”
Cody took a few more steps. Each time he started to fall, Anne caught him. He half listened to the others as he practiced walking. The comm system in his suit interfaced with everyone else’s. The suit simulated their voices coming from their direction, giving him an idea of where they stood just as if he hadn’t been wearing the suit.
“What do we got?” Sonja asked.
“Food for a few weeks,” Jim said, “but we went over that. Purification systems in our suits should let us use local water okay. We still got our coil rifles, and Doc has his coil pistol, along with additional ammunition. We should be okay on ammo unless we’re getting into firefights every day.”
“Got some cherries, too.” Deveau pointed at a case with a warning label. “Should be fun.”
“Hopefully, we won’t have to throw grenades at anything,” Sonja said. “What else?”
Jim pointed at two small containers. “Found some UV spray. And we have some additional medical kits. Oh, and some trackers.” Jim held up a tiny satchel. “We can spot their signature from orbit.”
Cody shook his head. “UV spray?”
“Leaves a chemical that can only be detected on ultraviolet frequencies,” she said. “In case we get lost.”
“Anything else?” Sonja asked.
“Our suits got skeeters,” Bodin said. “Including clue’s.”
“What is this ‘clue’ business anyway?” Cody said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sonja said. “Let’s hold off on using the skeeters for now. I know we like to keep them up all the time to get a view of the area, but we don’t know what’s around here. We’ll use them only when necessary.”
“Skeeters?” Cody tripped again, but not as badly as he had before. The learning curve was easy since the suit adapted to the wearer. He was already getting a rhythm down.
“Flying micro-bots,” Anne said. “They’re about the size of a mosquito. They can see in much of the electromagnetic spectrum. Pretty damn useful for recon.”
“I can imagine.” Cody hesitated for a moment. “Why do they call me ‘clue’?”
“Oh, that.” Anne frowned. “It means clueless. That’s what they usually refer to civilians in a military environment. They have to be told things that everyone else already knows.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”
Cody smiled weakly. He was a stranger in a dangerous land. All he wanted was to go home, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
“Guys?” Deveau turned around, holding up the viewing pad. “Holy crap, I got a new signal.”
“What?” Sonja trotted toward him. “Already?”
“Yeah.” Deveau twisted his hand side to side. “Well, sort of. It’s piggybacking off the bridge-sat. I think it’s something planetside bouncing off the satellite.”
“Not the time to be playing with us, Corporal,” Bodin said. “I really wanna get off this fucking rock soon.”
Deveau straightened his posture as he glared at Bodin, who simply raised his eyebrows, daring him. Deveau composed himself quickly. “I’m not joking around, Sergeant.” He manipulated the viewer, and its audio came over Cody’s suit. It was a steady screech interlaced with clicks and beeps.
“Is it UEAF?” Sonja asked.
“It’s not Spican,” Cody said. “Their raw signals sound
more like dull throbs within the carrier wave.”
Deveau scanned through his screen. “Yeah, it’s not Spican. It—confirmed. It’s a United Earth Armed Forces naval signal, and…” Deveau stared at the readout in front of him. “Christ.”
“Mind filling us in, Corporal?” Sonja said.
“The time stamp shows the signal’s been running for ten years,” Deveau said.
Everyone stared at him. Cody’s briefing had indicated that no one had actually visited that world. It had been uncharted until a couple of years ago. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.
“That’s about the end of the war,” Anne said. “How many ships did we lose then?”
“Too many.” Sonja closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. After a moment, she shook her head and opened her eyes. “Who’s it belong to?”
“It…”
The name flashed on the small image projected by the viewer, but Cody couldn’t read it.
Deveau ran through the search again, and the same name appeared. “Well, I’ll be goddamned. It’s the Kali.”
Everyone grew quiet. Cody recalled the old stories. “That was the ship that was looking for the Spicans. It was recon for that big battle at their home world.”
Sonja nodded, keeping her eyes on the horizon. “Operation Jackhammer.”
Deveau adjusted the device in his hands while he spoke. “They sent a probe back with the coordinates of the Spican home world, but they had disappeared altogether.”
“It didn’t really matter in the end, though,” Cody said. “The Spicans surrendered.”
“At the time, we didn’t know they would.” Sonja’s voice rose in pitch, and then she controlled herself. “We thought we were all about to get into the fight for our lives.”
Cody regarded Sonja. Was she there? Hundreds of thousands were involved with the operation. If it had gone through, most of them would have died.
“Spicans destroyed her, didn’t they?” Anne said.
“Most people assume that,” Deveau said. “There was never any evidence of what happened to her. No one knows what really happened. All I know is that right now, either someone or something else is copying the signal—which makes me wonder how they got a hold of it—or the Kali is right here. Or at least the black box is.” He grinned. “It’s like we found the Flying Dutchman.”