Steel World (25 page)

“I doubt they’ll call them that. They tend to fight in hordes. More numbers, more meat, less armament—but you have to admit, they are pretty effective.”

“But why, sir? They have their steel, their minerals to sell. Isn’t that easier for them?”

He shrugged. “How the hell should I know why they’ve decided to try this takeover? Maybe the market on steel has crashed. Maybe they’ve lost a number of accounts and are hurting for credits. Whatever the case, I think they’ve been working toward this for a long time. Otherwise, why are they our very best clients? Why so many missions? To observe and learn, that’s my guess.”

I didn’t know what to say. “They are warlike, primitive by alien standards. They don’t even have a worldwide government. Maybe mercenary work would suit them. Do you really think they can beat us? We slaughtered them out there.”

Graves lifted an admonishing finger. “Never underestimate an opponent, McGill. If they had all their credits dumped into weaponry the way we do…just think of it. What if the saurian waves you faced had been as well-equipped as we were? What would have happened?”

“I don’t know. They may have wiped us.”

He nodded slowly. “Exactly. That was their plan from the start. They gave us a phony contract and we signed on. Then they cheated by fielding, as you so eloquently put it, ‘endless waves of lizards’. Now, they’re claiming victory with the Galactics. Worse, you personally managed to kill the chief Inspector, the very individual that will decide the outcome of this territorial struggle,
twice
.”

I stared at him. My eyes were squinched up and my teeth were bared in a grimace. I felt slightly sick, and I didn’t think it was due to the bad regrow this time.

“Yes,” Graves said, smiling at me grimly. “I can see now that you fully grasp the situation and your part in it. Now, kindly get the hell out of my tower. I’m already regretting letting them revive you at all.”

I headed for the door, and I didn’t look back.

Fortunately, I was excused from the knife-fighting exercises for the day. I wasn’t really up to it. I was feeling better by dinner, and by the next day, as the ship began lurching and firing maneuvering jets, my stomach was operating fully again.

But I wasn’t happy. I knew, possibly more than any other recruit in the legion, what was really going on. We weren’t here to guard some mining complex. We were here to prove we could outfight an equivalent number of lizards—and from what I’d seen, the enemy was more than willing to cheat in this regard throwing at us ten times our weight in lizards. I had no idea how many dinos we’d killed thus far, but it had to be more than ten thousand all together. Maybe the number was twice that high.

The problem was the enemy had the resources of an entire planet to draw upon. They had
millions
of lives to spend. We had a finite number of men and guns. Our only advantages were in equipment and know-how. We had professional, well-armed troops—troops that could come back to life and fight again, over and over. It was a grim thought, and I felt that a grim battle was surely coming.

Our first advantage, which our tribune was hastily employing, was maneuverability. Using
Corvus
, we could come down wherever we wanted and face the enemy on our own terms. I was sure the saurians below us were watching closely wondering what our next move was going to be. Aboard ship speculation was rampant.

“What the holy hell do you think old Drusus is up to, McGill?” Carlos asked me loudly.

Everyone looked at me. They’d seen my special trip to the observation tower, my day off from exercises and my trips to the blue level. They knew something odd was going on with me, but they didn’t know what it was. In particular, Carlos was going mad with curiosity.

“Carlos is right,” said Kivi, jumping into the pack. She’d taken every opportunity to snipe at me since our break-up. She wasn’t too fond of Natasha, either. “You know something. I want to hear it. We’ve got a right to know.”

“No,” I told them both, shaking my head, “you’re in Varus, remember? None of us have rights of any kind. But it doesn’t matter because I don’t know where we’re going. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be at liberty to say.”

“You’re such a kiss-up all of a sudden,” Carlos complained. “You were such a tough-guy down in the steel tunnels. What did they do to you? Do you feel bad inside now?”

I actually did feel rather off-balance, but I wasn’t going to admit it to him. I knew that Carlos and the rest were half-joking and half-serious trying to browbeat information out of me. I struggled not to get angry with them.

“I’m fine,” I said. “But it’s time for you to shut up unless you want a fresh lesson in hand-to-hand.”

I’d started off untrained, but over the last six months I’d become known as one of the best with primitive weapons. Right now I didn’t feel good, but they didn’t know that. No one wanted to challenge me after a grueling day on the field. They broke up their circle and wandered off grumbling.

All of them, that was, except for Natasha. She lingered and stared at me with narrowed eyes.

“What? Are you suspecting the worst, too?” I asked her.

“You know something,” she said. “I can tell that. We all can. You really don’t want to tell me?”

I wanted to all of a sudden. “What’s in it for me?” I asked.

She smirked and gave me a small kiss. I reached for more, and she pushed me back.

“I’m not Kivi,” she said.

I laughed. “Okay, sorry. I can’t tell you anything, but I suspect we’ll all find out very soon.”

We left it at that and headed for our bunks. I’d been asleep for less than an hour when a whooping alarm went off. It was the emergency klaxons. Bewildered and half asleep, I tumbled out onto the steel deck, scrambling with my kit.

All around me, recruits were doing the same.

“Is the ship under attack?” Kivi asked.

“No, dummy,” Carlos snapped. “The evasion jets aren’t even firing.”

Kivi apparently didn’t like being called a dummy any more than the rest of us. She kicked him in the butt, and he caught her foot. He tried to twist it, but she snapped it back and threw a punch.

“Hey, hey,” I said. “Let’s get our gear on. This is for real.”

“Oh yeah?” Carlos asked. “You knew, right? Let me guess: the date marked on your calendar? Or did Graves text you personally?”

“You know what, Carlos?” I said. “You’re an even bigger asshole in the middle of the night.”

Everyone laughed and loudly agreed. Carlos grumbled, but he shut up and put his gear together.

Five minutes later, we were jogging down the passages to the tubes. We shot down, one at a time. The arrows were lit yellow on the floor and walls—even the ceiling. Our squad number was easy to follow.

I knew long before we got there where we were headed. The team chit-chatted around me as we moved quickly toward the lower decks.

“It’s not another drop?”

“Can’t be.”

“This is yellow-level…that could only mean we’re boarding a lifter.”

“At least we don’t have to get fired out of the cannons again.”

In general, the group was happy it wasn’t going to be a hot drop. If the LZ was clean enough to allow a lifter to land, it had to be relatively safe.

We were herded aboard a lifter and clamped into place. Rows of troops faced one another, but few of us made eye-contact. Not even Carlos was up for any new jokes. We were tired and worried.

The troops had been elated when they’d pulled the legion off Cancri-9. My team had been left behind, of course, but most had seen it as a narrow escape. The assignment had been rough, and no one wanted to stick around to see just how many lizards they would throw at us the next day.

Now, however, that feeling of relief was over. We weren’t going home. We weren’t even going to another planet, another assignment. We were going back down onto a planet that had turned utterly hostile.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. The lifter shook, rattled and squeaked. I smelled hot metal and strange chemicals. Cold air and hot vapors chased over us as different parts of the ship vented and adjusted themselves. It was nothing like the luxury ride a passenger ship provided back home.

My head lolled, and I nearly fell asleep. Off and on, my chin touched my chest and woke me up.

Suddenly, an elbow jabbed my belly. I lurched awake, angry. I grabbed Carlos’ hand and twisted one of his fingers up away from the rest.

His grin faded away. “Sorry man, I know you feel like shit. Now, please don’t break my finger. I need that one. I kinda need them all.”

The truth was, I
had been planning
to break his finger. In my mind, I could hear the snapping sound it would make, and I knew that for an instant it would feel very good to have done it.

I sighed and let him go. Sometimes Carlos and his rude joking around could drive a man crazy. At least he was smart enough to know when he’d crossed the line.

I closed my eyes again, and my chin touched my chest. I dreamt for a few minutes that I was back in the revival room, and I’d just experienced another bad grow. My legs were missing—I saw that first. But then I lifted my hands to my face—and they were gone, too.

I lurched awake. The lifter had landed with a final, rattling crash. Everyone winced. The shocks on these things were huge but old and creaky.

None of that mattered now, though, because we were down.

“Welcome back to Cancri-9, people!” Carlos shouted.

People shouted back unkind things. There were a few ragged cheers, but most of the troops were groaning.

My eyes were locked on the ramp. It slowly unclamped itself and began to lower. A line of bright sunlight struck us in the face. Everyone squinted, but we couldn’t look away.

Where on this heartless world of steel were we now?

-18-

The ramp went down with a loud whirring sound. The orange line of sunlight grew and grew until we had to dial our faceplates to their darkest setting. With black, shiny visors hiding our faces, we felt the clamps disengage. We were free of our seats.

We slapped the buckles and they fell away. Veteran Harris appeared as if on cue and walked up and down the line. I knew that every squad on this ship had its own veteran, who was doing the same thing with his allotment of troops.

“All right, on your feet!” he shouted. “We’ve lucked out, recruits, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now. The brass figured we were homesick and missed our pet lizards. They, in their infinite wisdom, have redeployed us to a new location.”

“Where’s that, Veteran?” Carlos asked.

We all watched, wondering if Harris was going to thump him. He didn’t.

“I don’t know, people. But I do know what we’re supposed to do. We’re getting our butts off this ship and down that ramp. There will be arrows leading us to our first destination.”

“What the hell?” Carlos asked. “What kind of briefing is that? Does anyone know why we’re here?”

Harris’ hand reached out and clamped onto Carlos. He pulled him close and squeezed him until he choked.

“Now, didn’t I just say that I didn’t know?”

“Yes, Veteran,” he gasped.

“Ortiz, don’t you ever know when you should shut up and follow orders?”

“I have trouble with that.”

Harris propelled him toward the ramp. Carlos rammed into me, but I was ready for that. I took the shove with my pack, having set my feet against the movement. Carlos grunted unhappily.

A minute later, we were trotting off the ship, carrying our gear. Everyone on the lifter appeared to be a light trooper, with only a few weaponeers mixed in. All I saw were snap-rifles and unarmored suits.

I had a bad thought then: what if they’d only sent us down here? What if the heavies were being held in reserve? It was a horrible idea, and I tried to abandon it, but I couldn’t. After all, they’d sent just the light troops down into those lizard-infested mines. Didn’t we deserve a break?

We followed the flashing lines onto miles of wide open tarmac. They led us away from the ship. In a long line, two abreast, we trotted toward what looked like a massive building.

I turned this way and that, looking at everything I could. We were clearly at a spaceport. It was big—at least as big as the one on the east coast of North America Sector back home.

“Hey, check it out,” Carlos said, pointing off to the right. “That’s a Nairb ship, or I’m Irish.”

We all looked the way he’d pointed. Even Veteran Harris swiveled his head.

“A Nairb ship?” asked Natasha. “There’s no way that’s local shipping.”

I thought about it, and suddenly, things began making sense. The Nairb were an odd race. They were our Galactic bureaucrats. They hired out as accountants and customs inspectors, ensuring that every world was following their trade restrictions and meeting their obligations. In fact, they had a monopoly on the service—an official monopoly on hiring out as officials.

“McGill is right,” Kivi said, almost stumbling as she tried to run and look at the Nairb ship at the same time. “I recognize those lines. They always put those shark-fin-looking things on top.”