Alien War Trilogy 2: Zeus Page 13

  After the patrol had gone, he waited fifteen minutes to ensure no more enemies were coming, then he led Adara from cover.

  He moved perpendicular to the direction the reinforcements had taken, hoping to cut crosswise along the rear perimeter of the battle. When the sounds of combat grew dim, he moved inward once more.

  The particular street he chose quickly became a mess of ruined buildings, the structures mostly empty husks holding crumbled walls. He and Adara had to pick their way across sharp fragments of travertine and glass that had spilled onto the roadway. It was so easy to traverse such terrain in a mech, but in the boots of a jumpsuit, not so much. As for Adara, she quickly amassed a fresh collection of nasty cuts and bruises on her bare feet.

  “Take my boots,” Rade said quietly.

  “No,” she said.

  “Take them!” Rade started to remove his right boot.

  “You give me that boot, I’m going to kick your ass with it until you put it back on.”

  Rade sighed, then continued through the debris. “Damn Marines.”

  He spotted a first aid kit in one of the abandoned houses, and he took her inside to bandage her feet.

  “There,” he said when it was done. “Those should serve as makeshift shoes.”

  She made a detour toward what used to be the foyer of the home, and paused beside a closet. “What do you think the odds are?”

  She slid open the closet and her eyes widened. “Finally!” She produced a pair of running shoes. Over-sized, but that was perfect, because when she tried them they fit her bandaged feet almost exactly.

  “Things are looking up.” She glanced at him. “Why the dour expression? You’re sad that you don’t get to see me suffer anymore?”

  “Not at all,” Rade said. “I’ll cheer up when we actually rejoin the division.”

  They continued south, and neared what looked to be a main intersection. Fighting was obviously taking place around the bend, judging from the noises.

  “Stay here.” Rade approached the edge of the building adjacent to the street, and peered past slowly.

  About a block away, a large horde of bioengineered creatures were attacking an infantry company in relentless waves. The men launched rockets from rooftops and fired lasers into the enemy. The bodies piled up between the wreckage of various street vehicles. Sometimes a beast got through. When that happened, what was once a man became a bloody ribbon.

  Guess they’re not taking prisoners anymore.

  “We can’t get through that,” Adara said from the ground underneath him. Against his orders, she had crawled to the corner and was gazing at the fighting. “It would have been better if we had tried to cross last night, like I wanted.”

  “We’ll just go out a little farther then, that’s all,” Rade said. “Come on.”

  He retreated, then took the first side street, putting more distance between himself and the battle. He soon turned south once more.

  They reached the main street. Rade once more approached the corner of a building and peered past. The combatants looked thumbnail-sized from where he stood.

  “So, are we far enough away?” Adara asked.

  “I think so. We’ll have to hurry across though.”

  “Okay, I’ll go first, you cover me,” Adara said.

  “And who’s going to cover me when you get to the other side? It’s too far for me to toss you the blaster. We go at the same time.”

  “Fine.”

  “Wait for my signal.” He looked both ways down the street, and scanned the windows and rooftops of the nearby buildings.

  “Go.” Blaster in hand, Rade followed Adara into the street. The duo swerved between the wreckage of various vehicles. He expected an incoming missile to strike any second. Or perhaps a laser. Thankfully the pair soon reached the cover of the buildings on the other side, and they stopped to catch their breath.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” Adara said.

  She inhaled suddenly and fell forward.

  Rade caught her. He dragged her across the rubble with one arm while he scanned the street beside them with the blaster in his other hand. He pulled her into what looked like an abandoned pastry shop, and rested her on the floor, propping her upper body against a wall.

  “What is it?” he said. “Are you hit?”

  Though her eyes were open, they were defocused. She didn’t seem to be breathing.

  “Adara,” he tried again. “Adara!”

  He searched her body for entry wounds but couldn’t find anything. Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t hit. A laser with a spot size of one millimeter might not leave any trace at all, cauterizing the surface of the skin as it penetrated.

  She inhaled once again, more frantically—as if starved of oxygen—and then slumped forward.

  He caught her. She was breathing hard in his arms.

  “What happened?” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know,” she said after a moment. “One moment, I was on the street outside. And then the next, I’m here, sitting on the floor, feeling like I’m drowning.”

  He held her there while she inhaled and exhaled. He glanced at her scalp, and saw the small indentations the needles had left, and he wondered if that momentary cessation in breathing was a sign that the nano-machines had replaced the respiratory center of her brain.

  After a moment she caught her breath. “Okay. I’m ready to go again.”

  Rade helped her to her feet. “Can you walk?”

  “I think so.”

  He released her. Sure enough, she could. He tore down one of the white curtains and draped it over the back of his jumpsuit. He gave another one to Adara, too, so that she had something else to cover her body with other than cooling undergarments.

  He scanned the street outside with his blaster, then led her out, continuing southward. After five blocks, he turned westward, intending to come in behind the infantry company.

  He soon saw an artillery company, camped there in the middle of the road. They were firing over the buildings, toward the combat zone that Rade and Adara had passed earlier.

  Rade glanced over his shoulder at Adara. “Let me go first. If shit goes all to hell, see that they deliver my body to Alpha Platoon, MOTH Team Seven. Tell my chief... ah, hell with it.”

  He wrapped the white curtain around his arm assembly and then advanced into the street, waving the fabric in the air above his head.

  He heard a shout and then froze, knowing that he was in the sights of at least a few hidden snipers, both human and robot.

  “Don’t shoot,” Rade said. “I’m on your side. Don’t shoot!”

  “On your knees. Now!”

  Not sure where the voice came from, Rade fell to his knees and lifted his hands behind his head.

  As two robots collected him, he realized Adara wasn’t with him. He glanced behind, searching the street.

  “Adara! Adara!” He looked at one of the robots: “There was a woman with me. A Marine, with the crown of her head shaved.”

  The Centurion gripping his right-side intoned: “There was no one with you.”

  “I swear there was. You must have spooked her. You have to go back.”

  “We’ll send a few units to look,” the robot said.

  A small squad of Centurions quickly loped through the street on lithe, metallic legs.

  The two robots loaded Rade into an armored carrier. Another Marine dressed in a full jumpsuit joined him.

  “What the hell happened to you?” the Marine said. Behind his faceplate, his features were set in a confused grimace. “I don’t read a thing from you.”

  “No Implant,” Rade replied. “Long story.”

  The Marine had Rade extend his left arm assembly, then he held a reader over the area and scanned the embedded ID buried inside Rade’s wrist.

  “PO1 Rade Galaal?” the man said.

  “That’s right.”

  The Marine proceeded to examine him. A corpsman, then.

  The carrier beg
an crunching over the rubble, retreating.

  “Wait, what about the woman?” Rade glanced back uncertainly.

  “If they find her, they’ll bring her back.”

  “And if they don’t find her?” Rade asked.

  The Marine shrugged inside his jumpsuit.

  nineteen

  When he reached the forward operating base, the Marines immediately transferred him to the decontamination ward, a specialized housing unit on the base. There he was confined to a translucent chamber whose walls were composed of an impenetrable composite of glass, polycarbonate, and PVB. A hydro-recycle container dominated one corner of his cell—he was advised to shower twice a day, once in the morning, and once at night. There was a small head with a toilet and sink. And there was a bunk. Basically a prison cell with a shower.

  Since he didn’t have an Implant, a robot gave him aReal goggles to use in the interim, so that he wasn’t completely bored. Apparently he couldn’t wear the contact lens version of the aReal because of his bioprinted eyes.

  The whole platoon visited the first day of his confinement, though they had to alternate because only five could enter the small housing unit at any given time. He could hear them clearly through the glass barrier because of the aReal goggles.

  “You look like a professor or something with those glasses,” Mauler said. No one was allowed to bring any weapons into the decon ward, but with those robotic arms of his, utilized in conjunction with the exoskeleton he wore, Mauler could probably smash Rade out of there if he wanted to. And Mauler would, if Rade asked.

  “A professor of degeneracy, maybe.” Rade activated tint mode so that the outer portion of the lenses mimicked a pair of mirror sunglasses.

  Mauler’s eyes drifted to the top of his head. “But maybe you should shave off the rest of your hair. And your beard.”

  “Not going to happen,” Rade said. “You know how long I worked for this beard?”

  “Well, the hair at least,” Mauler said.

  Rade had in fact intended to shave his scalp entirely, but decided he wouldn’t anymore, not after that comment.

  “Careful,” Tahoe said with a twinkle in his eye. “He rebels when told what to do.”

  “He actually does look like a professor, though,” Fret said. “The hair works in a perverse sort of way.”

  Bender was giggling. “Sorry, I can’t keep a straight face, looking at you with those shades and that messed up mop. You definitely look like a degenerate of some kind.”

  “You know,” Tahoe said. “In physics, degenerate refers to matter at such high density and pressure that gravitational contraction is nullified by the Pauli exclusion principle.”

  “The boss might look like a professor,” Fret said. “But Cyclone here is the actual prof.”

  “The Pauli what, bro?” Mauler said.

  “Two fermions can’t have the same quantum number,” TJ said casually. He had left his arm assemblies at the airlock alongside his helmet so that his jumpsuit was sleeveless—it gave him the appearance of wearing a bulky tank top.

  “Fermion...”

  “A subatomic particle with a half-integral spin,” TJ continued. He flexed his left bicep so that the rivet tattoos on the arm seemed to move. “Named after Enrico Fermi. One of my ancestors, of course. Helped develop the nuke.”

  “And that’s something to be proud of?” Fret said. “Creating a weapon that’s wiped out countless of lives since it’s development?”

  “And what are you proud of, Fret?” TJ said. “That you’re somehow better than my ancestor, because you wipe out lives with a laser instead of atomic fission?”

  “The lives I end deserve their fate,” Fret said.

  “That’s right, keep telling yourself that,” TJ countered.

  “Ah, it’s good to see you guys again,” Rade said.

  Keelhaul was part of the last group that had come to visit him, which also included Harlequin, Manic, Bender, and Grappler.

  “We went out looking for you,” Keelhaul said. “But...” He lips twitched, and for a moment Rade thought he was going to choke up.

  “I know, Keelhaul,” Rade said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “We fought for as long as we could,” Keelhaul said, trying again. “But the enemy was too concentrated. They came at us in endless waves. We had to retreat. When we got back to base, I pleaded with the chief to gather up a bigger search team. I made him tap in the LC. Braggs arranged two battalions for us. We went back out there. We scoured the area where you disappeared. And though we searched and searched, we couldn’t find you. When another attack came, we were forced to flee.” He stared at his boots. “I tried to organize another search party, but they said it was too late. They said you would have been one of them by now. So we gave up.” He swallowed loudly. “I’m sorry for letting you down, boss.”

  “You didn’t let me down,” Rade said. “You did the right thing by turning back. The last thing I wanted was to come back and find out that some of you died for me. That would tear me apart.”

  “But you would have died for me,” Keelhaul said. “You would have kept going.”

  Rade hesitated. He was going to have to lie, he realized. “No, Keelhaul. I would have turned back.”

  Keelhaul looked up and searched his face. “If you say so, boss.”

  After everybody had gone, Rade deactivated the internal logging on his aReal goggles so that there would be no record of what he was about to do, then he tapped in Tahoe.

  “Hey,” Tahoe said.

  “Got a favor to ask,” Rade said. He activated the noise canceler built into the aReal, and covered his mouth so that any watching AI wouldn’t be able to lip read. Just in case.

  “Anything,” Tahoe replied.

  “I’m having trouble getting into the Marine roster list,” Rade said.

  “I’m locked out, too. Want me to ask the chief?”

  “No,” Rade said. “I don’t want the chief involved.”

  Rade had already debriefed the chief, of course. He’d told him everything. Well, almost everything: he’d left out the part about sleeping with Adara.

  Tahoe was quiet for a moment. Likely considering the ramifications of what Rade was asking. Plus, he would be taking time to deactivate his own local logging. “I’ll have a talk with TJ and Bender. Is there anything in particular you want them to look for?”

  “There was a woman I met while I was out there,” Rade said. “Another prisoner. She disappeared before the Marines could rescue us. She told me her name was Corporal Anne Adara. Find out if she’s still missing.”

  “And if she’s not in the Marine database?”

  Rade hadn’t considered that she might have given him a fake name.

  “Then put together a list of all the Marines who disappeared on the same day I did,” Rade instructed. “And whether any of them made it back.”

  “I’ll get on it.”

  “Thank you.” Rade was glad Tahoe hadn’t asked the reason for all the secrecy. In truth, Rade didn’t know himself. He supposed it was because he was embarrassed he had slept with the woman.

  A few hours later Tahoe got back to him.

  “That was quick,” Rade said as he disabled the logging on his aReal.

  “TJ and Bender know their stuff,” Tahoe returned. “That, and they love hacking into Marine databases.”

  “So what do you got?”

  “There’s no Corporal Anne Adara on the roster,” Tahoe said.

  Rade pursed his lips. “Well that’s a bit... unexpected.”

  “But I do have a list of all the people missing in action from that day. Sending now.”

  A series of mug shots overlaid Rade’s vision, courtesy of the aReal.

  He spotted her face immediately. Underneath her picture was the caption: Corporal Juliette McPherson.

  “Do we know if all of these soldiers are still missing?” Rade asked.

  “TJ tells me their status would have been appended if they weren’t.”

&nb
sp; There were no appended notices beside any of the names.

  “Thanks Tahoe, I have everything I need to know,” Rade said.

  “Is there anything you want to tell me?” Tahoe asked.

  “No.” Rade dismissed the call.

  The woman had thoroughly deceived him. He started to wonder if she had ever been human. Rade couldn’t believe he had sex with her.

  He froze, a terrible thought coming to the forefront of his mind.

  What if she had sexually transmitted some of those nano-machines to him?

  He was suddenly very glad he was under 24/7 observation.

  AFTER FORTY-EIGHT hours the decon warden told Rade he was cleared for duty once again.

  “Great,” Rade replied, waiting for the man in the lab coat to open the glass container.

  The warden didn’t move. “Before I allow you to check out, there is one little thing that has been bothering me.”

  “Oh?”

  “You activated the noise canceler in your aReal twice over a six hour period on your first day. You also covered your mouth to prevent any lip reading by the AI. Why is that?”

  “I’m an LPO,” Rade said. “Of a navy special forces team. I deal in classified subjects. Stuff way beyond the clearance level of you and your Marine AI. Feel free to take up the issue with my lieutenant commander.”

  The warden regarded him suspiciously, then shrugged. A small panel in the glass container clicked inward, then slid aside.

  Rade walked through.

  The decon warden handed him a box containing a fresh cooling undergarment and jumpsuit combination. “Your friends dropped this off earlier.”

  “Kind of them,” Rade said. “What happened to the old one?”

  “Everything previously on your person has been burned,” the warden said.

  When Rade finished donning the jumpsuit he entered the airlock and proceeded out onto the base proper.

  Chief Facehopper tapped in a moment later.

  “I see you’re on the move,” Facehopper said. “They’ve let you out of the dollhouse then.”

  “They certainly have,” Rade replied.