Steel World (12 page)

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Authors: B. V. Larson

BOOK: Steel World
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We’d all been strictly admonished about the rules of engagement on this mission: no aircraft were allowed. That was in the contract, and we were to adhere to it carefully. The techs were quite disappointed. They’d been ordered to ground all their aerial equipment, including spy-buzzers, sniper platforms and even mechanical ground-support bots. No missiles were allowed either, to the general groaning of the techs. Ground bots were technically admissible, but expensive and deemed unnecessary. The mechanized bots had been left aboard
Corvus
for a future mission against a more technologically advanced enemy. There was no point in having them destroyed by raging juggers.

The only drones we did have were the crawler types that were designed to investigate and detonate explosives. Bored, the techs ran these around the camp and complained to one another about the restrictions.

As I worked, I noticed a pattern. The light troop regulars and the recruits did all the grunt work while the higher ranks complained. The veterans bellowed at us, finding fault in just about everything we did. The officers made frequent inspections, after which the veterans yelled at us with more vigor.

Of the entire legion, I found the group circling the revival unit to be the most intriguing. That special team formed a unit of their own with their own bio centurion. The unit consisted of a mix of bios and techs with orderlies filling out the lowest ranks. They behaved circumspectly as they entered and exited the puff-crete bunker that housed the alien machine. At the entrance, a guard checked everyone who entered. No one without clearance was allowed inside, not even for a peek.

As I’d yet to experience dying, I still didn’t know what it was like in there. I wasn’t looking forward to my first time, but I was curious about it.

I caught up with Carlos while he was struggling with charging-tubes for a big weapon emplacement atop the northernmost tower. He was cursing, as usual. I lent him a hand, and we soon had a stack of tubes beside the big weapon.

“What are these things, anyway?” he asked me.

“As I understand it, they power this gun.”

“Not exactly, Recruit,” said a weaponeer. He’d been inspecting his equipment and ignoring us up until now. “Each charging tube holds the energy for multiple discharges, that’s true, but they also contain the ammo.”

His description didn’t sound all that different from what I’d said, but I nodded and didn’t say anything. As a fresh recruit, I wasn’t about to argue.

I headed down with Carlos to the bottom of the tower. There was a stockpile of charging tubes stored here, but that wasn’t good enough for the weaponeer in charge of the tower. He wanted his ammo closer.

Carlos groaned and stretched his back. “This seems like a waste of time,” he said. “There hasn’t been so much as a sighting for hours. I’m beginning to wonder if the lizards are even going to come to the party.”

I took a moment to tell him what I’d run into out in the jungle after my off-target landing. He feigned mild interest.

“I would have shot a few rounds right into the pack of them and kept firing,” he said, disparaging my retreat.

“You weren’t there,” I told him. “And besides, you would have pissed yourself and run without firing a shot.”

Just as our argument about possibilities was becoming heated, Veteran Harris showed up and cleared his throat.

“I hope I find you two gentlemen in excellent health today,” he said.

“Why, thank you, Veteran,” Carlos said. “If you would excuse us, we have work to do.”

The veteran looked at him through eyes narrowed to slits.

“You two are goofing off.”

“We were just discussing—” Carlos began.

“You’re a recruit. Discussing anything is goofing off because you morons don’t know enough yet about anything to have a meaningful discussion.”

“If you’d like to—” Carlos tried again.

“No,” the veteran said, cutting him off. “I don’t want to do anything you might be thinking of. See that jungle out there?”

He pointed off out into the forest. It was dark now, and the alien landscape looked forbidding.

“I want you two in the shit tonight,” he said. “All the recruits in this unit are heading out as skirmishers. The techs don’t have the virtual warning lines worked out yet. You soldiers are going to have to fill in for the missing hardware.”

A few minutes later we found ourselves walking around in the jungle with our snap-rifles in our hands. The walls looked positively cozy back behind us.

We spread out, with Harris pacing along at the rear. I could tell this kind of scout work was left to us for good reason. With any luck, if the enemy did arrive, they would only eat a few worthless recruits. Our job was to slow down the charge and maybe take a few down before we were overwhelmed.

“This is bullshit, man, bullshit,” Carlos said to me, coming closer than he was supposed to and whispering his complaints in the dark jungle.

“Keep your distance. We’re supposed to maintain an even line.”

“What kind of plan is this?”

“We’re in a skirmish line. Didn’t you ever play any legionnaire games?”

“No, I was too busy with my studies.”

“Now
that’s
bullshit.”

Carlos finally shut up and moved off into the trees taking up his position again. We advanced out into the jungle until we were about three hundred meters from the wall.

At this distance, I couldn’t see any sign of human presence. The trees blocked all the sights and sounds of the camp behind me. The jungle itself was eerie at night. I found the sounds to be more disturbing than they had seemed in the day. Unseen creatures burbled and screeched occasionally. Each time, I jumped a little. I had no way of knowing if these were natural background noises made by harmless native species or the calls of vicious organized enemies.

When my tapper indicated I’d gone far enough and was supposed to stand guard, I found a wide-spreading fern that looked bright green-white in my night vision goggles. It was emitting heat for some reason; lots of plants did that on Steel World. I decided the heat-emanating plant would cover my own body heat signature. I stopped there and waited quietly.

After a few minutes, I decided to open my faceplate to breathe the local atmosphere. The air was, by all reports, breathable but not pleasant.

When I sucked in my first gulp, I understood what they meant. The air was thick and humid—almost like breathing steam. The mixture of gases wasn’t like Earth’s atmosphere, either. It had more than enough oxygen, so much that you had to be careful you didn’t hyperventilate, but there were other components, too, that left an aftertaste in my sinuses with every breath. It was like breathing the exhaust of some kind of electrical machine.

After a time, I relaxed somewhat and got used to the alien stink of the place. I could certainly hear more clearly with my visor open. I knelt in the midst of my warm fern and slowly scanned the landscape looking for any kind of movement. Since the enemy were native to this world and accomplished hunters, I knew I was at a severe disadvantage. I felt like I was bait, in fact. A sacrificial lamb tied to a tree stump to attract big game.

After an hour, Veteran Harris wandered by. He asked for my report in a whisper. I told him there hadn’t been any significant sightings.

“You keep your eyes peeled, boy,” he said. “And I’m not just talking about dinos. If anything shows up that looks remotely dangerous, you tell me about it on squad chat.”

“I’ll be the first, Veteran.”

He left, and I felt lonelier than ever. It was about two hours later that something finally happened. It wasn’t what I’d expected, however.

Instead of a theropod creeping up on me, or some other jungle predator, I saw a
thing
in a silvery skin. I wasn’t sure quite what I was looking at, but I knew it wasn’t normal. It had to be an alien of some kind. It had six limbs, and two of them were holding a dark, slim object. A rifle? I wasn’t sure.

The alien was moving cautiously, scuttling forward on four of its six appendages. I was reminded of a spider but one that had only six legs—each of which could be used as an arm at will.

From the way it was acting, the creature hadn’t seen me in my fern bush. I figured that if the enemy slipped right by me—whatever it was—I could make my getaway then.

Moving quietly, I closed my visor. I engaged my tapper, and it zoomed in on the alien. After a few agonizing seconds of watching a spinning “wait” icon, my suit computer finally made its determination. A blue question mark appeared, and the word “unknown”.

I had no idea what I was facing, and neither did my suit. It wasn’t a saurian, but it didn’t look innocent, either. I figured I couldn’t just sit there. I had to report the sighting. I slid my hand up to my chest plate. There, I keyed my alarm signal. Still trying not to make a sound, I lifted my rifle as the signal went out.

The alarm was a silent radio blip on an ultra-high frequency, but the creature picked it up somehow. It responded by swiveling its bulbous head back and forth then zeroed in on my bush. That slim dark rod in its hands came around in my direction.

That was all the warning I needed. I lifted my weapon and sprayed it down with slivers with my weapon set on full-auto. The weapon clattered, and the sound tore apart the stillness of the night. Snap-rifles weren’t as loud as gunpowder weapons, but when you really held the trigger down, they made a respectable racket. The snap and whine of projectiles filled the air, and the steel shot ripped through the fern I was crouching in, tearing off big, fuzzy leaves.

The creature was caught by surprise and went down in a tangle of thrashing limbs. I gave it another burst to be sure, and then I snapped an image with my helmet visor. Whatever it was, I was certain command would want to see it.

Nearby, I heard rushing feet. It was Carlos, running to my position.

“What’d you shoot?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I told him.

We both stared at the forest, and our chests heaved. We watched the jungle intensely, but the night was silent.

“Come on, what had you so spooked?” Carlos whispered. “You never freak out about anything.”

I thought about the three juggers I’d run from in this same jungle yesterday but didn’t bring them up. Carlos hadn’t been there, and it hadn’t been my finest hour. I just shook my head and watched for movement.

A channel call came in to us a moment later, and we answered it. Veteran Harris’ voice filled our helmets.

“I see you have discharged your weapon, recruits, and Carlos has broken the line. Who gave you orders to maneuver?”

“I’m seeking a new position, Veteran,” Carlos said.

True to his word, he found a broken stump and put his back against it. He sighted over the top, scanning for a target.

“Report, dammit!” Harris said.

“Sorry sir,” I whispered. “I shot something. I don’t know what it was, but I’m sure it was intelligent and armed. It wasn’t a saurian.”

“Repeat that, please?”

“It was not any kind of life form that is supposed to be on this world. The tapper didn’t know what to make of it.”

Harris didn’t say anything more to that. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. I felt a bit guilty. I had fired without orders, and right now I wanted to run. It was hard to stand a post by yourself in an alien jungle. I couldn’t see any sign of the alien from my position, as the grass was too high. I chided myself for not advancing and making sure the alien didn’t crawl away.

Even as I berated myself, I heard firing erupt off to my left. Then more shots were fired, very distantly, to the right.

“Contact made, recruits!” Harris shouted into my ear. I could tell he was broadcasting now to the entire squad. “Withdraw slowly, link up and provide covering fire for one another. Those to the rear, take up a secure position. You’re on overwatch.”

“That’s us,” I told Carlos. “The rest have moved farther forward.”

He nodded and, for once in his life, didn’t have anything to say. We both stared into the night wondering what was coming next.

We didn’t have long to wait. A squad of raptors showed up chasing a recruit.

I was horrified. The recruit looked to be a female, and she was bleeding. It took me a fraction of a second to realize it was Kivi, then another second to notice her arm was gone and it was in the mouth of the leading pursuer.

Without saying anything, we began applying controlled bursts of fire. The thing carrying the recruit’s arm went down first. Seeing us, Kivi ran to our position. I saw her face briefly as she staggered past me. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was hanging open, as if she were in the midst of a long scream. No sounds came out of her, however, other than labored breathing.

We put down two more raptors, and they retreated. I realized with a shock that we weren’t fighting the expected enemy: juggers. These were the smaller, smarter variety of saurian.

“Doesn’t make sense,” I said. “This was supposed to be a jugger rebellion. A bunch of pissed off, unpaid miners.”

“Who the hell cares? Let’s escort her back to the walls.”

I checked Kivi’s tapper. There was no pulse.

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