Mavericks (Expeditionary Force Book 6)

by Craig Alanson

  Irene ran a quick estimate. “With forty seconds to spare, at this rate.”

  “Outstanding,” Perkins exhaled in relief behind them. Perhaps her stubbornness had not killed them. This time. That was a lesson she needed to remember.

  They cleared the ridge, having to battle strong and gusty winds as they approached and flew through the gap. On the other side, Derek dipped the nose and advanced the throttles, trading altitude for airspeed in an effort to put distance between them and the coming shockwave. He dove and turned gently to the right, getting clear of the gap behind them for that is where the shockwave would come through first and with the most energy.

  “Four seconds,” Irene called out, and polarized all the portholes to avoid people being blinded. “Two, one.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Perkins watched their sole surviving Verd-Kris walk away to be alone, stopping just under the edge of the stealth netting that covered their small camp. Surgun Jates had been stoic about the death of Tutula, saying he would mourn her properly at the appropriate time, in the appropriate manner. Several times, Perkins had seen the hulking lizard sitting away from the camp by himself, staring off into the sun or staring at nothing. Sometimes he pretended to be exercising or practicing a form of martial arts particular to the Kristang, even he could not mask how distracted he was. Perkins felt sympathy for the Surgun, knowing it was odd for her to empathize with a member of a species who might have exterminated human life on Earth. Jates, she had to remind herself, was not her enemy. They fought the same enemy, and where Jates sought to transform Kristang society, while Perkins would be happy to have the whole lot of them drop dead, they fought together. Surprisingly, Emily Perkins found herself trusting Surgun Jates, certainly trusting him more than she trusted most of the Ruhar cadets other than Nert.

  Ernt Dahl came out of the dropship, carrying a tablet, with his antennas drooping. “I have not yet completed a review of the data files,” the Jeraptha turned toward her and fortunately did not attempt to smile, for that expression still looked creepy to Perkins despite knowing its intention.

  “When do you-”

  “However, I believe I have enough information to present a preliminary conclusion,” he paused to judge the human’s reaction to the translated words.

  Perkins nodded in exaggerated fashion so there would not be any interspecies miscommunication. “I was an intelligence analyst, I know the risks of trusting preliminary data.”

  “Good. Then, you will understand my conclusions may change. Colonel, so far, the data I have reviewed contains detailed notes of the testing conducted on human and Ruhar subjects. Unfortunately, all the Ruhar subjects died as a result of the testing, for the pathogen is even more lethally effective in Ruhar than in your own people. Do not think me harsh when I say that is not surprising; the pathogen’s target is Ruhar, while humans are primarily carriers. The Ruhar were brought here as prisoners of war. Their prisoner status did not allow the Kristang to use them as research subjects to develop a weapon against their own people.”

  “Oh, hell.”

  “Colonel, if it is any consolation to the families and friends of the dead, I have a list of their names, human and Ruhar. Their loved ones will at least know what happened to them. Also, records are clear these Ruhar did not cooperate in the testing, they did not know they were part of a test until it was too late. Once it became clear they had become infected with an experimental bioweapon, three of the Ruhar killed themselves to deny valid test results to the enemy,” Ernt noted with a tone of admiration. “Truly, they were brave warriors, I would have been pleased to serve by their side.

  “What of the remaining Ruhar? How many of them were in the test?”

  “There were twenty three in the test, which was conducted in three phases with the three groups isolated and unaware of each other. After three of eight Ruhar in the first group killed themselves and three others attempted suicide, the Kristang took steps to ensure future test subjects could not end their own lives prematurely. Colonel, I am sorry to inform you of the deaths of other sentient beings in this cruel test, but that is not the worst information I have to tell you. It appears that the Kristang who remained behind here were not entirely trusted by their leaders. The data we recovered has, as I said, extensive reports of the test results. The data does not include a chemical analysis of the pathogen components, nor instructions on how to synthesize any part of the bioweapon. We also did not recover samples or the pathogen or precursor elements. We know what the pathogen does and how it works. We do not have enough information to identify it in either humans or Ruhar.”

  “Shit! Damn it! The whole damned raid was for nothing?”

  “Not nothing, for this data could prove to be useful to Ruhar bioweapons specialists, it does contain details of how the disease progresses in both human and Ruhar, and how the pathogen is spread. The bad news is the infectious components are airborne, can be spread by skin contact or through water, and can remain infectious for eight days on porous surfaces. The best way for Ruhar to protect themselves is by enforcing a strict quarantine of the human population on Pradassis,” he used the Kristang name for that world. “Excuse me, I meant to say, Paradise,” he added with an unintentionally creepy smile that quickly faded. “Colonel, you likely do not wish to hear this, but-”

  “Yeah, I know. If the Ruhar on Paradise are threatened, the most certain way to assure humans are not carriers of a lethal bioweapon is to assure there are no humans on Paradise. Believe me, I had that thought as soon as I heard about this nasty little plan. The Ruhar government is for Goddamn sure going to consider humans expendable.”

  “Colonel Perkins, there is another benefit from the raid. We rescued many of your people,” he gestured toward where a dozen of the former control subjects were gathered under the stealth netting.

  Perkins snorted. “Screw them. I’d trade the whole traitorous bunch of them for Tutula.”

  “Oh, you misunderstand me, Colonel. The benefit I see is if those people are infected with the live pathogen. The data indicated their role in the testing was as a control group, however the testing was planned to conclude by infecting them also, to see whether their value as a control group was truly valid.”

  “They might be infected?” Perkins asked with alarm. During the raid, her team had stayed buttoned up in their powered armor, sealed against outside air. But after the damaged dropship landed, they had gotten out of their suits the next day. Dahl had found data tagging the group as a test control, and Perkins realized it was impractical to keep the Mavericks sealed inside suits forever. They could not even fly away from the Keepers, and the interior of the dropship was surely contaminated. “Ah, damn it. The best outcome is if those Keepers, and us, may be infected with a deadly bioweapon?”

  “The data does not state whether the final phase of the testing had begun, and I think it likely the Kristang guards who remained behind would not have been informed of the testing progress. All the scientists who developed the pathogen and conducted the testing had been evacuated from this world. When we attacked the base the only personnel there were security guards who were expendable.”

  “Oh, hell,” Perkins felt a shiver despite the sun-baked heat of the day. “Then we may be infected also. We are never getting off this rock.”

  “One thing I don’t get,” Shauna waved a hand for attention. “Why would the Kristang risk doing this? Biological warfare is against The Rules,” she made air quotes with her fingers, “isn’t it? They risk the Rindhalu or even the Maxolhx punishing them.”

  Perkins shrugged. “Good point, Jarrett, but I’m sure the Kristang figured they wouldn’t get caught; they didn’t count on us landing here and uncovering this op. By the time the Ruhar figured out what was going on, half the population of Paradise would be dead and the infection could have spread through their ships to other planets. Without the data we captured, it would be tough for the hamsters to prove the disease is not a naturally-occurring mutation of common human vi
ruses. The whole issue of the senior species enforcing The Rules is kind of flexible anyway,” Perkins tilted her head. “Remember, the reason UNEF got sent to Paradise is because our hamster friends contaminated the place with a virus that is destructive to the Kristang. The lizards couldn’t put boots on the ground there until they developed a vaccine or whatever, so they sent UNEF down to handle the job of kicking the Ruhar off the surface. The hamsters denied being involved, they lied their asses off saying the virus was there in the soil from back when the lizards controlled the planet, and it had mutated over the years. Neither of the senior species did a damned thing about it, and we know the Kristang filed a formal protest against the Ruhar. My suspicion is the Rindhalu and Maxolhx only punish large-scale or sloppy violations of The Rules, otherwise they, uh-”

  “Let the guys on the field play the game?” Dave used a sports metaphor.

  “Yeah. Like in football toward the end of a big game that’s close, the refs ease up on anything but flagrant fouls,” Perkins explained.

  “Except the damned zebras always call against the Packers,” Dave fumed. Being from Milwaukee, he was of course a Green Bay fan.

  “Yeah, Ski,” Jesse winked, “only Packers fans complain about the referees. Colonel, you think the lizards will get away with this?”

  “Unless it gets out of control and spreads widely through Ruhar worlds, but I don’t think that will happen. The incubation period was carefully designed, those lizards were smart. This was,” Perkins twirled a strand of hair around a finger, an action that made Dave stare at her in fascination. “I have to admit, a brilliantly-designed operation. The lizards could kill every human on Paradise, and most hamsters. They get revenge on us, and they weaken the hamsters’ hold on the planet, the Ruhar might even abandon the place. For sure they wouldn’t keep a battlegroup stationed there, the crews couldn’t go down to the surface.”

  “You think the pathogen would kill all humans on Paradise?” Shauna’s eyes grew wide with fear. “The Ruhar must have the technology to create a cure.”

  “I don’t think they do have the level of technology to cook up a cure, not quickly. The data,” Perkins tapped her laptop, “reveals the tech to engineer this virus is beyond the ability of the Kristang, they must have gotten help from the Thuranin or Bosphuraq, or they bought it from someone. The Ruhar would launch a full-scale effort to protect their own population, but humans?” She shook her head sadly. “I can’t see the Ruhar diverting resources to help humans, and they don’t understand our biochemistry that well anyway. Remember, the way this virus works, the Ruhar would initially think the disease is a natural mutation of viruses that humans commonly harbor. The hamsters will think it’s our fault, they won’t be eager to help us. I hate to say it,” she spoke aloud what she was thinking privately, “but with a large part of their population dead or dying, the Ruhar might consider eliminating the source of the infection. Probably they’d start by quarantining all humans. When Ruhar keep dying,” she shrugged, “the gloves would come off. I could see the commander in orbit hitting human sites from orbit whether the civilian government of Gehtanu approves or not. By that time, the infection would have spread to ships in orbit, unless the battlegroup got really lucky and all their ships were out of the system during the entire incubation period. This is a nightmare, if the ship with infected Keepers gets to Paradise.”

  “Those damned lizards would get away with it,” Jesse balled up his fists. “The senior species really only punish stupidity, Colonel?”

  “That’s the idea, yeah,” Perkins agreed. “Unless a species is stupid enough to violate The Rules in a big way, or unless they commit a minor violation but are clumsy and obvious enough to get caught, they will probably get away with it. It’s not practical for the senior species to run around punishing every minor technical violation, this war has been going on long enough for everyone to know how far they can push the boundaries. Colter, the Kristang will get away with this, those infected Keepers might have already landed on Paradise.”

  “What about us, Ma’am?” Shauna asked, afraid she knew the answer to her own question.

  “Us? We remained buttoned up during the raid but now we’ve been exposed to the Keepers, who might be infected. The hamsters won’t take the risk of lifting us off this planet until months have gone by and we have either died or show no signs of infection. Even then,” she bit her lip, “I wouldn’t take the risk, if I were them. No ship captain will be eager to bring us off the surface here until there is a cure or vaccine available. Probably not until both are available. Thinking about it, if those Keepers do not ever reach Paradise, then the Ruhar won’t have incentive to make a big push to rescue us. A handful of humans, and a couple dozen cadets on this planet, are not worth diverting major resources from the war effort. Shit,” she realized the endgame of her logic. “The only way the Ruhar would develop a cure is if the infection does hit Paradise and they have to deal with it.”

  “That’s it, then?” Shauna said with despair. “We’re stuck here? Forever?”

  “Hell,” Jesse groaned. “I was just getting used to the idea of being stuck on Paradise, and that place is a lot nicer than this hellhole.”

  “I don’t think we’ll be here forever,” Dave looked Perkins in the eye, and she nodded. “This is a Kristang planet. They’ll be coming back sooner or later.”

  “Oh, shit.” Jesse’s shoulders slumped.

  “That ain’t the worst of it,” Dave explained. “If a hamster ship does arrive, the best move for them would be to hit us right here from orbit, eliminate us as a threat just in case we’re infected.”

  “You are a gosh-darned ray of sunshine, Ski,” Jesse complained.

  “It’s what we would do, right?” Dave retorted in his own defense. “It’s what I would do. The Colonel is right, no way are the hamsters spending the time and money to develop a cure just for us.”

  “Oh, hell,” Jesse patted Dave’s shoulder, “you’re right, I shouldn’t shoot the messenger. So, Ma’am, what’s our next move?”

  Perkins took a moment to carefully consider that question. They had enough human food aboard the dropship to sustain them for three months, four if they went on restricted rations. Cutting their nutrition was a risk, as it might make them more susceptible to infection. The smart move would be to eat normally until the three-month incubation period passed, then cut back if none of them became sick. If they were sick, it didn’t matter how much they ate because they’d be dead long before they could burn through the supplies. “We set up camp here, wait a couple months, and hope the Ruhar are pretty damned convinced we are not carrying the virus.”

  “Ma’am,” Dave sighed, “three months is a long time. What are the odds no Kristang ship will swing by this place during that time?” His question didn’t require an answer. “We can’t get off this rock until a Ruhar ship picks us up.

  “That assumes any Ruhar ship arrives,” Shauna pointed out their biggest problem. “We don’t know that anyone will hear our beacons.”

  “Hey,” Jesse didn’t like the pained look on Shauna’s face, and draped an arm over her shoulders. “We gotta have faith. We survived this far, what are the odds of that, huh? Somebody up there,” he pointed to the sky, “has been looking out for us.”

  Jesse had no idea that the being looking out for them was a shiny beer can.

  “Colonel?” Shauna approached the folding table where Perkins was sitting under the edge of the stealth netting. The team’s daily walks or runs had left clearly visible tracks in the dusty soil all around their campsite, so stretching stealth netting over the dropship and campsite was more for morale than any real attempt at concealment. Dragging homemade mats behind them as they walked, a measure intended to literally cover their tracks, had proven largely ineffective as the top layer of sun-blasted soil was a different color and no amount of sweeping could entirely blend in their footprints. Still, Perkins insisted everyone remain under the stealth netting when in camp, mostly because she didn’t
trust the Keepers not to do something stupid.

  Their single dropship had been tossed around by the massive blast and came perilously close to splattering on the far slope of the ridge, but pilot skill and a good measure of luck worked in their favor. In the roiling air, the dropship had turned and flown first north, then west so the prevailing winds carried the short-lived radioactive fallout away, then landed when its one engine turbine began overheating. The spot was as good as any, so they had set up camp around the grounded Dodo. They had to wait, for three months at least, until they could be certain none of them had brought a deadly pathogen away from the base with them. Ruhar cadets had flown a dropship high overhead to drop supplies, but otherwise the raid survivors and former prisoners were alone.

  “Jarrett?” Perkins looked up from her tablet. “You have news for me?” That day had been Shauna’s turn to check everyone for signs of infection with the handheld medical scanner.

  “No, Ma’am, not exactly. Everyone checks out, no infection.” It was understood that ‘no infection’ meant no infection the scanner could detect, yet. If the genetically-engineered pathogen was as fiendishly ingenious as the Kristang database boasted of, they might all be infected, with the deadly prions biding their time inside clusters of cells. If so, there was nothing Shauna or anyone on the planet could do about it. “Can we talk?” She asked with a glance around to assure no one could overhear them. With the evening chill fast approaching as the sun set, most people were inside tents or the dropship.

  “Certainly, Jarrett,” Perkins set down her tablet as a sign the soldier had her full attention. After the initial excitement of the raid and then analyzing the data, boredom and depression had set in. People had nothing to do except wait to learn if they would die of infection, or of starvation. Or die in a maser blast from a Kristang warship. Or bombarded from orbit by a Ruhar ship. The sense of hopelessness was almost worse for the Keepers, because when they saw humans coming to pull them out of their life of slavery at the base, they expected to be rescued. Knowing their would-be rescuers had no way of getting off the planet had been a crushing blow both to Keeper morale and to Perkins’ thin authority over them. That is why the Mavericks always carried weapons, and why the Keepers were not allowed near the precious but crippled dropship. “What is it?” She asked in her best motherly voice, a tone she had used so often recently that she was getting tired of it. She had signed up for the Army to be an intelligence specialist, not a camp counselor. Especially irritating were the Keepers who wanted to justify their stupidity, feeling a need to explain to her and anyone who would listen why they had gotten themselves into such a mess. But the absolute worst were the handful of Keepers who refused to believe the Kristang had used them for harmful medical experiments, in a plan to use the human population of Paradise as unwitting weapons against the Ruhar. Perkins had cut off their line of bullshit immediately, and kept those true fanatics separate from the other former prisoners.