Gates of Hell

by Daniel Gibbs

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir,” Taylor said before he hastily stood and exited the room.

  “A bit hard on him, Cohen,” Aibek said.

  “Maybe. I won’t have that sort of thinking breaking out among my senior officers.”

  “I understand where you’re coming from there. On a Saurian ship, to suggest anyone was a traitor would instigate a fight to the death.”

  “Not quite the same here,” David replied with a bit of a smirk. “But the morale hit we’d take would be enormous. I won’t risk it unless there is direct, actionable information that we have a traitor on the Lion of Judah,” he finished while closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Damnit, XO. This is the last thing we need to deal with right now. Give me a target to destroy any day, but not this cloak and dagger crap.”

  “On this, we agree. I detest subterfuge. I prefer a straight-up fight, and may the best combatant win,” Aibek said, his teeth gleaming as he smiled.

  “A fair fight, eh?”

  “Yes, the noblest kind.”

  David shook his head. “Maybe in sports. In combat, if we’re in a fair fight, I did something wrong.”

  “An interesting philosophy, sir.”

  “I’m full of surprises today,” David said and sprang to his feet. “Let’s get back to it. I’ll see you on the bridge later.”

  “Where to now?”

  “Oh, I need to meet up with Colonel Demood and have a chat with our resident defense contractor. Looking for some solutions to help the team on Freiderwelt.”

  “Good luck, sir.”

  “Thanks, XO,” David replied as he opened the hatch and walked away.

  Kenneth glanced up from his tablet to see David and Demood walking across the hangar bay, directly toward him. He’d been reviewing progress reports and inspecting a new machine learning system for reloading fighters; it had the promise to increase the number of sorties flown in a day. He made eye contact with David and was rewarded with an acknowledgment in the form of a head dip.

  “Mr. Lowe,” Demood began. “Feel like doing some real work today?”

  Kenneth smirked. “I do real work every day, Colonel Demood.”

  “You two need to get a room sometime,” David groused.

  Oooh, he’s not in the mood today. “What can I do for you, sirs?”

  “We have a bit of a problem with Freiderwelt. Namely, its planetary defense systems,” David said. “They’re able to locate our stealth landers, and we don’t understand how or why. That’s preventing us from sending a QRF.”

  Kenneth frowned as he ran through some of the scenarios. “I’m going to assume sending another lander on autopilot and trying to figure out how they’re targeting us through the stealth coatings and engine exhaust dampers is a non-starter?”

  “We don’t exactly have ships to throw away,” Demood snapped.

  “Then I would suggest we instead focus on providing overwatch fire capability to the commando team,” Kenneth replied.

  “How do you know that it’s a commando team?” Demood blurted out.

  “Colonel… the Lion of Judah is a tiny ship, regardless of how large it appears from the outside. One of the tier-one teams is gone. Everyone knows it. Logically speaking, they’re who we dropped on Freiderwelt.”

  “Kenneth rarely misses a beat,” David said toward Demood with a smile on his face. “Got any ideas on how you’d provide fire support to them?”

  “Maybe we could put some drones in orbit that spoof a League power signature and don’t show up as hostile… the team could interface them into their command net and get some indirect fires. We could load them up with air-to-ground missiles.”

  “Wouldn’t the League just blow them up whenever they fired?” Demood asked skeptically.

  “I would expect so… each drone would be single use.”

  “Not a half-bad idea,” David said. “What would it take to make it happen?”

  “Support from the science team, including Doctor Hayworth, a supply of recon drones, and we’d have to make a couple of micro-fusion reactors to power them,” Kenneth explained.

  “Any objections, Colonel?” David said with a glance at Demood.

  “None, sir. Even limited overwatch would provide a large increase of lethality for the team and increase their odds of survival.”

  “I’ll send a note down authorizing you to get to work, Kenneth,” David said. “Anything else?”

  “No, sir,” Kenneth replied.

  “I’d like to talk to Mr. Lowe for a few minutes privately,” Demood stated.

  Oh no, what’d I do to him now? “Of course, sir,” Kenneth replied.

  “I’ll see you both later,” David said as he turned and walked off quickly.

  David always moves quickly. I’ve never seen him dawdle at anything, even when having fun. Kenneth stared at Demood, waiting for him to speak.

  “I owe you an apology,” Demood began without preamble. “I accused you of some nasty things a few months back. I called you a coward. I’ve never treated you with respect, and for that I’m sorry.”

  What the heck? “Uh, I…” Kenneth stammered. “No apology needed, sir.”

  “Stow the ‘sir’ shit,” Demood replied. “Look, I’m bad at feelings. You know I’ve had some issues. I still do. I’m trying to make amends. I rag on you and your guys for getting paid a lot more than my Marines do, and not having to put in the dangerous work. There may be a lot of crappy defense contractors out there, but your team isn’t, and the reason for it is the man who leads them. You saved one of my Marines. I should’ve thanked you for that, not smeared you.”

  Kenneth stood silently. His eyes were wide, and his mouth slightly ajar, as if he’d been slapped. I have no idea how to respond to this… I could try the truth. “Colonel, I was terrified,” he began. “I peed my pants the first time bullets flew. You’re right… I’m not a soldier, I’m a nerd. My way of contribution is to be a brain and try to make things work. I’m not cut out to be on the sharp tip of the spear. It’s a shame I carry.”

  “If you know you’re not cut out for it, why did you volunteer?”

  “Because I thought I needed to. I wanted to prove to myself, maybe to everyone else, maybe even to God, that I could stand up and put my life on the line.”

  “You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone except yourself and God, Mr. Lowe.”

  “Kenneth, please, especially in a conversation like this,” he replied while forcing a smile.

  “Hah, okay. Look, I’m just trying to change some things about me. Be a better man. It’s a long road, and making amends with people I’ve hurt for no good reason is something I need to do.”

  Kenneth stuck out his hand. Demood reached down and shook it with a substantial grip. “Apology accepted, Calvin.”

  Much to Kenneth’s surprise, Demood turned the handshake into an enormous bear hug that nearly crushed him. “You take care of yourself, Kenneth.”

  “Always, sir.”

  “Okay, what are we standing here jawing for? Commandos need those drones,” Demood said with mock reproach.

  “On my way, Colonel. Remember… anytime you want a real job, come see me,” Kenneth said, unable to keep a straight face as he busted out with a giant belly laugh.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Demood replied, laughing as well.

  Kenneth made his way through the hangar bay, consulting his tablet to determine where Doctor Hayworth was; that was his first destination. The rush of feelings surrounding Demood’s apology surprised him. I think the colonel has a point. Trying to prove myself to others doesn’t work. I suppose I have some things to work on too. I hope he’s holding up. Maybe I’ll drop by and see how he’s doing tonight.

  12

  Ruth rocked in her seat as the old, beat-up transport vehicle rolled across the landscape of Freiderwelt. Operating off electric batteries, it was designed to be a short-range personnel carrier, and not well suit
ed for combat. She was up in the forward compartment, where the driver sat. Susanna had squeezed in up front too, between her and Meissner, who was handling the driving or at least trying to.

  “Master Chief!” Meissner shouted through an open window into the rear of the vehicle.

  “What?” MacDonald roared back over the noise of the wheels bouncing over rough terrain.

  “Our energy cells are getting low.”

  “Seriously? League-built crap. We should’ve been able to get to our destination and back on half a charge!”

  “This thing was built before I was born, Master Chief,” Ruth interjected to laughs from those who heard her.

  “Fair point, LT,” Meissner replied. “Still, we need more juice, or we’re going to be walking.”

  Susanna peered at Ruth, her eyes drooped, a scared expression on her face.

  “Do you have something to tell us, Susanna?” Ruth questioned.

  There was a bit of a pause before the girl spoke. “There’s an old recharging station not too far from here. It looks like our buildings, but it’s not one of ours. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, little girl, it’s called trying to blend in,” MacDonald said as he chuckled. “Do you know where it’s at exactly?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Quit that ‘sir’ shit. I work for a living,” MacDonald groused, ever the curmudgeon.

  “Language, Master Chief.”

  “This isn’t the bridge of the Lion of Judah, Lieutenant.”

  “Colonel Cohen’s thoughts on the matter have impacted me,” Ruth replied. “Besides, she’s sixteen, and swearing of any type is against her beliefs. Is it so hard not to curse for a couple of days?”

  “You’re almost as bad as my wife, Lieutenant,” MacDonald finally said. “Okay, let me rephrase. Quit that ‘sir’ stuff. I work for a living. Happy?”

  Ruth responded with a dazzling smile. “Thank you, Master Chief.”

  Pausing for a moment, MacDonald looked toward the driver’s seat. “Meissner, pull over,” he ordered. “I’m going to show you a map on my tablet, Susanna. I want you to point out the place on the map for me, okay?” he asked in what Ruth assumed was the most soothing tone he could muster. I wonder if he has kids.

  After the lumbering transporter ground to a halt, MacDonald stuck his tablet through the window between the compartments. It was designed for use in a rugged environment and looked as if it had seen its fair share of abuse from the dings, nicks, and dents around the edges. A topographical map of the area around them was visible on the screen.

  “Now, where’s this recharging station?”

  Susanna stared at the tablet, then looked up at Ruth. “I don’t know what this is.”

  Before MacDonald could respond, Ruth took the tablet. “Allow me, Master Chief.” Upon receiving a nod from him, she changed the mode to a top-down bird’s eye view and turned it so Susanna could examine it too. “These are pictures of everything on the planet from our recon drones. Do you see us, here?”

  Susanna squinted at the screen and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  Ruth smiled. “It’s okay. Here, see the brown top of the transporter?” She pointed to a mark on the screen.

  Susanna nodded. “I see it.”

  “Okay, now you can try to find the building we’re looking for. Do you have any idea how far away it is?”

  “We don’t measure distance like you do, Ruth,” Susanna replied, clearly frustrated. “I remember going by it on the way to Brother Carmichael’s farm. We only go a couple of times a year because the journey takes two days by buggy.”

  “How many horsepower on that thing?” Harrell quipped from the rear. “One or two?”

  “Senior Chief,” Ruth said, her tone reproachful. “Stow it,” she continued before turning back to Susanna. Ugh, boys. I’m overrun by alpha males. “Are you sure it was two days?”

  “Yes, very sure. We’d have to pitch a tent, and I always hated getting bugs in my hair.”

  Ruth played with the settings on the tablet and began to change the range of the map shown. “Care to let me in on what you’re doing, Lieutenant?” MacDonald asked.

  “A horse and buggy can go anywhere from thirty to forty kilometers in a day. Which gives us a maximum range of eighty-five kilometers. What we’re looking for has to be within that radius from their farm.”

  “How the heck do you know how far a horse and buggy can travel daily?”

  Ruth grinned in return. “You have to remember I grew up here. These people were a part of our daily lives.”

  “Carry on, Lieutenant.”

  After a few minutes, Ruth finished her search parameters and was rewarded with several possible candidates; buildings that fit the description of a garage or recharging station but retained Amish design. She cued them up to show in sequence. “Okay, Susanna, have a look at these for me. Tell me if any of them look familiar.”

  Susanna nodded and took the tablet, swiping the pictures to the right after looking at the image displayed. After several, a grin broke onto her face. “This is it! We passed it by so many times, I can’t forget the façade,” she said, handing it back to Ruth.

  “Jackpot, Master Chief,” Ruth said, holding up the tablet. “McInnis Country Store.”

  “Punch it in, Meissner,” MacDonald ordered.

  “Got it, Master Chief,” Meissner replied. After a few minutes, the destination appeared in the vehicle’s navigation system. “Twenty minutes away. More than in range.”

  “Not bad, Lieutenant,” MacDonald commented.

  “Thank Susanna, Master Chief. I just helped explain it to her in a way that made sense.”

  “Thank you both, then,” MacDonald said.

  “You’re welcome, Mister MacDonald,” Susanna stated.

  “Call me Master Chief. I’ve been doing this long enough it’s about all I answer to reliably.”

  Ruth chuckled, as did everyone else in the transporter. It rolled on toward its target.

  Thirty kilometers away, Pavlik’s shuttle glided over the green fields of the Nussbaum farm, glancing out the transparent metal window. He had already spoken in person to several Amish families but received no pertinent information. The Nussbaums were the furthest out in the small network of farms and were his last stop for the day. The craft touched down in a cloud of dirt, hitting the ground with a thud.

  “Thank you, pilot,” Pavlik said, popping his restraints off and standing up. “I’ll conduct my questioning and return shortly.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take some soldiers with you, sir?” the pilot asked in return.

  “No. I know these people, and besides, they’re not insane enough to assault a League shuttle in broad daylight.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Pavlik made his way back through the shuttle, past a group of smartly dressed soldiers, who saluted him as he passed by. He returned the salutes and strode out onto the ground, taking in the pastoral scene that greeted him. It’s almost hard to believe this is a farm on a technologically advanced human society.

  The door to the farmhouse opened, and Ezekiel Nussbaum lumbered out. Pavlik had met Ezekiel on several occasions; he had tried to meet with the elders of each village at least once, preferably several times. If Pan would get out of his office, he’d realize making personal connections goes far further than displays of military power.

  “Mister Nussbaum,” Pavlik called out. “Wie bist du?” he said, using the unique form of German the Amish families still spoke.

  “Gut, Major Pavlik,” Ezekiel replied.

  “Glad to hear you’re well. May I trouble you for a few minutes?” Pavlik asked.

  “Would you care to join me in the main house?”

  “If that’s where you would be most comfortable,” Pavlik replied.

  Ezekiel gestured toward the front door and held it open. Pavlik quickly crossed to the distance to the stairs and walked into the house. “Thank you, Mister Nussbaum.”

&nb
sp; “Please have a seat in our parlor, Major,” Ezekiel said after he closed the front door. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’d rather not be awake half the night,” Pavlik joked. “I’m getting to be an older man.”

  Ezekiel chuckled as he sat down. “I’m familiar with those problems, Major. What can I do for you?”

  “A couple of our soldiers went missing last night,” Pavlik began. “They were driving a short-range transporter. Did you see them by chance?”

  “I can’t say I did, Major.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual?”

  “Such as?”

  “Powered vehicles, weapons fire of any type?”

  “Out here?” Ezekiel began. “We never get that kind of excitement.”

  “How was the harvest this year?” Pavlik queried. Something is off here. I can feel the tension coming off him.

  “Gut,” Ezekiel replied with a worn smile. “It was all my children and I could do to get it all in.”

  “I’m glad,” Pavlik said sincerely. “It’s almost time for your youngest daughter to have her courtship, yes?”

  “You have an excellent memory, Major. Susanna just celebrated her sixteenth birthday. Many of the young men find her attractive. Me, I’d rather have her stay around for just a few more years… but she must go create a family of her own, ja?”

  “I miss my own family,” Pavlik confided. “At least they’re well taken care of, thanks to my service to the League.”

  “How much longer do you have on our planet?”

  Pavlik shrugged. “I’ve had this post for two years now, yes? I could leave next year, but I do love Freiderwelt. Of all the planets I’ve served garrison duty on, this is the only one I’ve seen where we live in harmony. Do you mind if I walk around your property and check a few things? Just for my official report, of course.”

  “I cannot stop you, Major. My house has nothing to hide. Check everything that you need.”

  “Thank you, Mister Nussbaum,” Pavlik replied, a tone of respect in his voice. “I’ll see myself out and onto the grounds.”

  “Ja.”