25
“Bundy! Hold up!” Rev shouted as he, Tomiko, and Orpheus sprinted to catch their friend.
Bundy paused on top of his Avenger, and his face broke out into a huge grin. He jumped down just as the three reached him.
“I didn’t know if I was going to see any of you,” he said, accepting their hugs.
“Hell, when these two heard it was your platoon, they grabbed me, and then we found you. Not that you’re easy to miss,” Orpheus said.
“Yeah, I guess not,” Bundy said, patting the side of his tank with a tired smile.
“Was it rough?” Rev asked.
“Yeah. Lost a lot of friends yesterday.”
“Respect to the fallen,” Rev, Tomiko, and Orpheus said.
Tanks and armor had hit the Centaurs as more than a hundred advanced onto Swansea. They hadn’t been expected to hold the Centaurs off but rather delay them so that more civilians could be evacuated. And if they attrited the numbers, all the better.
The word was that they hadn’t done much to the waves of paladins and coursers and had suffered serious losses. Rev hesitated to ask the next question.
“Anything on Ten?”
“She took a hit. Pretty bad, I heard, but she was alive still alive when they evac’d her. That’s all I know, though.”
The joy in seeing Bundy was tempered with the news, and Rev had a sinking feeling that bad news was going to be a common refrain in the coming days.
Bundy’s new driver stuck her head out of the cupola and slapped her hand on the top of the tank.
“I guess that’s my cue. Pretty ballsy for a lance corporal, but what are you going to do?” He turned around and hopped up on his tank.
“Take care, and don’t do anything stupid, you hear?” Rev said.
Bundy paused. “From what I know of your mudeaters plans, Rev, that goes double for you.” He turned back and disappeared inside this ride. A moment later, it started off, quiet for a hunk of armor that big.
“Well, I think that’s our cue, too,” Orpheus said. We’re moving out in about ten minutes. Come give me a hug.
“Thanks for getting me. It was good seeing Bundy, even under these conditions,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Tomiko.
He shifted to Rev, and as they hugged, he whispered, “You heard Bundy. Don’t be a damned hero. Run fast.” He broke the embrace and jogged back to where Alpha was staging.
“And that’s us. Let’s go,” Tomiko said.
Tall Trees Provincial Park, flanking the Spizzo River, had been one of Rev’s favorite places to go to as a kid. It was surreal now, with frenzied activity among the redwoods. Planted over eight hundred years ago, they’d seen much of humankind, but Rev didn’t think they’d had Marines preparing for battle under their branches.
“Mother protect you,” he whispered to the old giants.
“About time you got here,” an agitated Nix said as they ran up to the team. “The master guns has been looking for you, Miko. I had to cover. You’d better find him before he explodes.”
“Thanks, Nixie,” he said, blowing him a kiss before rushing off.
“Really, thanks,” Rev said. “It was good to see him before he took off.”
He almost said, “see him one last time,” but luckily, he dodged that. It was never good to attract the attention of the gods of war.
“Everything OK?” Nix asked.
“You remember Ten, the tall blonde tanker? You’ve met her at the club before.”
“Yeah, I met her. Did she . . .?”
“No. At least, we don’t know for sure. Got messed up bad, I guess, and was CASEVAC’d.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It is what it is. It could be you or me next.”
Nix winced. Mentioning that wasn’t as bad as saying “one last time,” but for the superstitious, anything should be avoided.
“Any changes?” he said to get past that faux pas.
“Nope. Meet them at the upgrade where the armor and we do our thing, then Alpha moves in to gat them.”
“Gat them? Miko’s got you calling the virus that, too?”
Nix gave a sheepish smile. “Hell, if you can’t beat them, join them.”
“I’m a man of principals, I’ll have you know. I refuse to buckle under her tyranny.”
“Yeah, tell that to her face,” Nix said with a chuckle.
Badem came up and said, “We’re ready.”
“Gotta go, Rev. Make sure everyone’s ready to fight and all.”
“Inspect that Hus-man guy carefully. I’ve heard bad things about him,” Rev yelled loud enough for Hussein to hear.
The sergeant gave Rev the finger. “Eat me, Corporal.”
Tomiko returned. She gave Rev an obvious one over, then made the sign of the cross and acted as if she was throwing water on him.
“What are you doing?”
“The most honored master gunnery sergeant wanted to make sure I inspect each of my serfs before we step off. I just inspected you. You pass. Now I must proceed and doeth the same to Strap, Carp, and Radic forthwith. Time is a-fleeting before we sally forth.”
Every Marine handled upcoming fights differently. Miko sometimes leaned to being goofily dramatic.
“You are one crazy Marine, Miko,” Rev called after her.
Not that he’d have it any other way.
* * *
Rev watched the road from his perch on one of the many chunks of rock that littered the way centuries after the road was cut. If the command had guessed correctly, Centaurs would make their way up the gorge before long. Rev thought that was a good guess.
For all their tech, the Centaurs were pretty predictable. Maybe that was because of the tech, though. While it was shifting a bit now, they had been far stronger than the opposing human forces since the start of the war, so they might not see the need for intricate tactics or innovation. While they were making more use of drone-eyes to screen their forces, for the most part, they just went where they wanted as if confident of blasting through any opposition.
Rev hoped that arrogance would be their downfall.
Being armor-heavy, without infantry, they were limited to roads and open spaces, and if they wanted to get up on the Plains of Reston, then Highway 72, flanking the Spizzo River, was the only real way up for fifty klicks either way. The highway climbed 1,500 meters in a series of steps over six klicks to the Marines who were now waiting for the CWVs to spot them, hoping their position was a good one.
Rev turned to look behind him. Bluebonnet Meadow was one of the many relatively flat spots along the gorge, the last one before the plains. The river slowed down, surrounded by hundred-meter-wide marshy banks before the trees took over again on the slopes. At over half a klick long, it offered clear fields of fire for the tanks.
The hope was that the wetlands would either keep the Centaurs on the road or slow them if they left it. The three tanks would engage from the front, then shields on max, retreat up the last step up to the plains where they would split up and attempt to get away. Rev would let the Centaurs pass, and once the tanks opened fire, engage from the rear. The infantry, from the cover of the trees, would pepper the Centaurs with grenades. Most would be the normal, anti-armor grenades, which would not have much of an effect. They were going to be used just for show. Interspersed among them would be the virus grenades.
If all went well, some of the Centaurs would be infected and break through the Marine force . . . without too many of the humans getting killed in the process. And this was what had Rev stressed. He understood trying to kill every Centaur in sight. And this location would help in that kind of a battle. But to fight hard enough to mask the use of the virus, but not so hard as to kill them all, was a new mission, and one he didn’t like in the least. Being hesitant would be a good way to get everyone killed, if history was any indication.
If it were up to Rev, the Marines would focus their attention on saving the civilians, fighting as hard as they could. The Marine way. As far as the virus grenades, snipe at them from the maximum range of the launchers. A small Raider team could do that without becoming decisively engaged—and keeping well away from the virus itself. And if the Centaurs realized something was up, well, if the virus was as good as advertised, then what would it matter?
But Rev was not in charge. He had his mission, and he would salute smartly and march on.
“You doing OK?” Tomiko asked, climbing up to him.
“We got word from the CWVs? They’re coming?”
“Nah. Not yet. I just saw you sitting up here and wanted to check you out.”
“Just getting the lay of the land a little better.”
“You already walked it four times.”
Rev shrugged. “I just hope we’re going about it the right way.”
“Me, too. Mind if I take a seat?”
Rev patted the rock beside him, and Tomiko sat down. “This place is sure beautiful. Seems almost sacrilege to be fighting here,” she said.
“We used to go to the park every couple of weeks to see the trees. Sometimes, we’d keep driving up here, go up to the plains and Horryville, and get some Banjo Fries before heading back home. We always went to this one little trailer along the main drag there. Really good fries. And right here,” he said, pointing to the small parking area alongside the road, “I’ve waded in the river more times than I can remember. Never thought I’d be back in this situation.”
“The galaxy sucks sometimes.”
He didn’t have a reply to that. They sat there, side by side for ten minutes until Radić started climbing to them.
“Sergeant Reiser, they’re coming. We just got the word.”
“I’m coming!” she yelled back before turning to Rev. “Orpho was right, Rev. Don’t be a fucking hero. Engage, then get the hell out of the way. We want some to get away and bring the gat with them, and you making some dramatic gesture won’t affect that.”
Rev laughed and said, “Not quite the pep-talk I’d expected, but yeah, I hear you. Now let’s get this thing done.”
* * *
The first drone-eye flew into the meadow. Unlike human mini-drones, the Centaurs’ were about fifteen centimeters across and easily spotted. No one really knew if they were in communications with the Centaurs themselves or were independent units, mostly because they didn’t seem to affect the Centaurs’ actions.
They were armed with a small, laser-like energy gun, but Marine body armor could deflect it. Without the armor, however, it could be deadly, something with which Rev had firsthand experience on Preacher Rolls. The team’s guide, probably an OD operative, had been killed by a drone-eye right in front of him.
They were also vulnerable to Marine weapons. An infantry Marine, armed with an M-49, could take one down if they could hit it.
Rev waited, watching from his position. The drone-eye had to be noting the tanks ahead and the Marines in the trees, but it merely continued, thirty meters above the river until a single blast sounded from the trees, and the thing tumbled into the water below.
And so, it starts.
An M-49 could take out a drone-eye, but a 40 mm shotgun shell, fired from the grenade launcher, was much more effective.
There had evidently been some debate on whether to engage any of the drone-eyes, but as knocking them down never seemed to affect what the Centaurs did, the decision was made to station two-person infantry teams along the road leading up from the park to the meadow to drop a few.
Rev had carefully picked his position behind a large tree trunk that had been deposited by one of the spring floods. All around him was marsh except for a path of dry soil, one of the trails made to allow people to walk down to the river. It wasn’t that obvious, and Rev thought it might give him an advantage if it came to that.
He twisted his body around to look up through the trees to where the team was positioned. Tomiko leaned over and gave him a thumbs-up, which he returned.
“If you’re going to give me my shot of adrenaline, I guess you can start.”
Punch didn’t say anything, but Rev felt the now-familiar sense of excitement as his warrior started to surface.
“Systems check.”
<Power, ninety-two-point-three. Munitions at one hundred percent.>
“You ready to start juking and jiving?”
<Ready.>
“Or, should I ask if you’re ready to be a decoy?”
<Ready for that, too.>
I may be a decoy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t kill one.
<If I can remind you, please insert your nose filters.>
“Damn, I forgot. Thanks.”
Rev wasn’t going to be firing any of the virus grenades, but he was going to be close to them. He didn’t really trust the filters to be much protection, but they were better than nothing.
Rev slipped them in, then watched where the highway entered the meadow, waiting for the first sign. He wished he knew how many of the Centaurs he faced, but evidently, whatever means they had for the CWVs to get word to them didn’t include the ability to relay a count.
And then the first paladin stepped into the meadow, its twenty-two legs stepping like some huge, mutated scorpion. Rev ducked down lower. His signal would be the tanks opening fire.
He put his hand on the ground but the marshy soil absorbed any vibration the big brute was causing as it walked along the road. Rev’s ears were still good, though, no matter how quiet the Centaurs were. He heard another, then yet another paladin enter the meadow until something bigger, with more legs, caught his hearing. Rev poked his head up. Three paladins were in a column leading a courser. Rev had fought one of the behemoths on Tenerife, dropping it in a river as a last resort. But he didn’t have a bridge handy to drop out from beneath it.
I didn’t have Pashu then, either, he thought as his inner warrior shouted for attention. I want that bastard!
But he had to wait for the tanks.
Another paladin appeared behind the courser. That made five Centaurs. If Rev had any concern about how to “let” one of them escape after being infected, that went right out the window. With only the three tanks and him, even with Alpha switching to Morays, wiping them out would have been a tough task, and if successful or not, it would have resulted in huge Marine casualties.
Come on, tanks!
The blast almost took him by surprise, and all three tanks fired at once. Explosions enveloped the first paladin, but it emerged unharmed and started firing. But that wasn’t Rev’s fight.
“Range to the courser?” he asked as he jumped up and started running forward.
<One-oh-three.>
Shit, too far.
Rev changed direction to the last paladin, Pashu ready to fire when a sixth paladin crossed into the meadow, its pedestal already oriented toward Rev.
<Right!>
Rev was already moving off his firm path forward as the blast hit where he’d been, steam from the marshy ground around the path erupting in a cloud.
“Range?”
But he already knew it, having established a range card to various landmarks. He needed ten meters, and he surged forward. The ground sucked at his feet, slowing him down. The second to last Centaur was moving off the road to engage the tanks, thank the Mother, leaving only the last one targeting him. The pedestal rotated, ready to engage him, when with a shout, Rev lunged forward and landed on his belly in a splash of water and mud. He fired, hoping he was in range, and the paladin shuddered, the pedestal stopping.
The tanks fired once more, and this time, the lead paladin went up in a violent explosion, the blast wave rolling over him, pushing his face back down into the water.
“Give me a shout when I’m charged.”
Rev raised himself on his right elbow and leveled Pashu, switching to Morays. The paladin hadn’t fired its defensive belt, but neither had it self-destructed, so it was still alive. Rev had his Morays minimum arming range taken down to ten meters before the invasion, and now he was glad. He fired, the missile clearing the distance in an instant. The missile impacted at the base of the pedestal, the explosion blasting it off. Still, the paladin didn’t self-detonate.
Rev didn’t stop to wonder why. All he knew was that without a pedestal, it didn’t have its main weapon.
He turned over and only then took in the rest of the meadow. Grenades were arching in from both sides, slamming the Centaurs. Puffs of mist told him that at least some were the virus rounds.
<Charged.>
The last paladin had gotten off the road on the far side, where the ground was more solid. That left the courser, still on the highway, as his closest target.
“Range?”
<One hundred and eleven meters.>
The courser was firing ahead, presumably at the tanks.
“About time to get out of there, Bundy!”
Rev got to his feet and started running forward to close the distance while the big beast was firing forward. An explosion reached for the sky up the highway, and Rev knew that at least one of the tanks was gone. He couldn’t stop to take that in. He had his target.
Several airborne shapes shot across the meadow toward the trees, and Rev faltered. These were something new, not the drone-eyes. They started firing, and with effect. A Marine dropped.
Tin-asses don’t innovate my ass!
These things were new, and they could evidently defeat infantry armor. There had to be at least a dozen of the things. The number of grenades cut back as the Marines took in the new threat.
He gave a glance at the courser but ordered “Twenty-degree dispersion on the cannon. Power at fifty percent. Two seconds burst.”
He’d fired like this on the range, but as it was only for a test, never in combat. He’d had no reason.
Making sure he had a safe shot with no Marines in the background, Rev stood and shot into the air, sweeping it across his front. At least four of the new drones fell out of the sky.
And now Rev was a target. There was no cover, except for . . . Rev wheeled around and sprinted to the immobile paladin, feeling the killer-drones bearing down on his neck.
He was working from instinct, but with Centaurs, that was a big assumption. It was the only one he had, though.
Movement to his right caught his eye, and Nix was stepping out from cover and ducking to clear the tree branches, firing into the air above Rev, and yelling, “Move it, Rev!”
Rev doubled down, almost diving at the paladin. He spun around, back to the thing, as a drone hit the ground behind him. Nix gave a raised fist in victory.
Another drone had been heading at him, but then it pulled away. Rev’s instinct had been right. Like humans, the Centaurs had protections in place against friendly fire. The drone turned and—”
“Get back!” Rev screamed, but it was too late. Sergeant Nix crumpled face-first to the ground.
“Fuck!” Rev shouted in helpless rage.
<Charged.>
Rev fired again, sweeping that drone and two more. He switched to his 20mm and filled the air, more in anger than in hopes of hitting anything.
The recall sounded, a siren that signaled pulling back. If any of the tank crews were still alive, they’d be retreating, as would all the infantry, moving back to their rallying points. But the drones kept striking, each time more Marines dying.
He looked to Nix, hoping to see him get up when Badem ran forward, hooked his hands through Nix’s harness, and started dragging him back under cover.
“Come on, Tulip!” Rev said.
<Charged.>
Rev raised Pashu to clear the air above Badem, but he was an instant too late. The PFC dropped just before Rev took down the drone.
Another wave of anger swept through Rev as he stood there, wanting to lash out.
“Rev, pull back,” Tomiko’s voice cut through to reach him.
But he didn’t want to. He wanted to make the bastards pay. He turned to his right, where the big courser was still firing up the highway, slowly advancing.
The paladin behind him shifted, and Rev jumped back. He was too close to use his Moray. He pulled a Phoenix out of his thigh holster, ready to try and repeat history when the paladin rose into the air.
Rev watched it, mouth gaping open. The paladin swung a little, as if not totally in control, before it started rising quicker.
<Charged.>
“Give me the normal settings,” Rev ordered, raising Pashu.
<Your orders are to let some go, and without a pedestal, this one is not a threat.>
As if a wave was washing over him, Rev suddenly started coming down from his battle high.
“Rev!” Tomiko screamed.
He looked into the trees but didn’t see her. And he realized that as long as he was there, she wouldn’t leave. With a sigh, he lowered Pashu as the paladin gained speed and altitude. He watched it for a moment before he turned and started running toward the team’s rally point.
* * *
Rev stood over his two fellow Raiders. Badem had fallen over Nix as if trying to further protect him. Nix had died saving Rev, of that he was sure. That hunk of Centaur drone fifty meters away was targeting him, and Nix had exposed himself to take it down. Badem, the guy who wanted everyone to like him so much, he wouldn’t leave Nix out there, and that cost him his life.
Rev helped Doc Paul roll Badem off Nix. The doc took out his biometer and ran a scan of each of the Marines’ head. With a deep sigh, he shook his own head and said, “Just like the others. No chance of a resurrection.”
“Respect for the fallen,” the rest of them said.
Rev has expected as much. Whatever the new drones had used, it destroyed the nervous system, including the brain.
Rev walked a few steps closer to the meadow. Alpha was already bringing out bodies to the parking area. There were a lot of them. He’d seen Orpheus and Malaika, and felt guilty for his relief. The other Marines were just as important—they had just as many family members who would mourn their passing.
He didn’t know the numbers yet. Only a dozen or so wounded, but maybe a hundred dead. One tank was destroyed, too thoroughly to know if it was Bundy or not. And only a single Centaur killed, and not even the one Rev had hit.
Yes, that had been the plan, but somehow, Rev didn’t think it was worth it. The virus wasn’t even a proven weapon. For all he knew, the Centaurs could take their equivalent of an aspirin and be fine.
And what of Bluebonnet Meadow? It had been saturated in the virus. Would it recover? They said that it wouldn’t harm Earth life, but then why the filters? Why tell the Marines not to let the aerosol touch them?
Other Marines had started to gather the remains of the killer-drones. The engineers might be able to find out something useful from them, but only if they ever got the Centaurs off the planet. And after getting their asses handed to them so thoroughly, Rev was beginning to wonder if that was even possible.
But there was one more thing bothering Rev, and he was almost afraid to think about it. In the middle of the battle, when Rev had been ready to kill the fleeing paladin, Punch had refused and order and reminded him of their mission. Then he’d cut off Rev’s warrior-juice.
Not that he’d overtly said no, and he still hadn’t acknowledged that he was controlling Rev’s fighting spirit. But what it boiled down to was that he hadn’t done as Rev had ordered him. The fact that Punch was right didn’t change that.
Punch was a tool to feed him data, to help him fight. He could tell jokes and run music or shows. He could monitor Pashu. But what if he was more than just a tool? Then the question became who was really in charge, and who controlled whom?