Deathtrap

by Craig Alanson

  “That’s not it,” Ross shook his head. “The hamsters are not afraid of Verd-kris. They’re afraid the Kristang warrior caste will make an offer for your people to return home, and you will double-cross the Ruhar.”

  That remark got Zaring hot. She stiffened and slapped one hand on the desk. “If they think that, the Ruhar do not know anything about my people.”

  “They may know all they need about your culture,” Ross was not daunted by his counterpart’s anger. “You can’t tell me there are none of your people who are unhappy with their status, who would not jump at the chance to switch sides if the warrior caste made them a good offer.”

  Zaring glared at Ross. “Any such people would be traitors.”

  “Yeah, we know all about that,” Ross waved a hand. “We had a group of idiots calling themselves ‘Keepers of the Faith’. Kind of like how you call yourselves ‘True Kristang’. Dammit, Zaring, I’m not saying I don’t trust you. I’m stating a fact: the Ruhar are never going to completely trust the Verds, so long as you look exactly like the Kristang.”

  “You have genetic engineering,” Perkins said quickly to diffuse the tension. “Maybe you could grow fur and cute little whiskers?”

  Zaring pulled her head back and stared at Perkins in astonishment. For a moment, Perkins feared she had said something inexcusably offensive, then the Verd woman threw her head back and laughed, making a sound like a rusty water pump. “Fur,” she laughed and held up her hands. “We would also need to grow an extra finger on each hand,” that thought made her chuckle again. “Very well, General Ross, we can agree that the facts, as you humans say, are what they are. No, the Ruhar will never completely trust my people. Nor your people. It is good, therefore, that we can trust each other.”

  “Amen to that,” Ross offered a fist and Zaring bumped it properly. “If you two rays of sunshine are done raining on my parade, let me sum up the situation, so we can make plans to deal with it. The Swift Arrows might make a play to keep Fresno, because they fear looking weak if they lose this rock to the Legion. The Kristang overall, and the Thuranin, might be supporting the Swift Arrows here, because both species fear for the future if the Verd-kris demonstrate their combat capability. On the friendly side, the Ruhar Army, Navy, intel shop and a growing part of their elected officials would all like the Legion to fail here. Is that it, or do you have a bonus bit of good news for us?”

  Perkins bit her lip. “That’s about it.”

  “Great,” Ross let out a long breath and looked up at the ceiling. “Everyone on both sides wants us to fail here?”

  Perkins shrugged. “Except for Glabosor, the Ruhar company who holds the colony prep contract here. If we fail here and the hamsters pull out, that company loses a juicy deal that will keep them fat and happy for the next three years. They got the contract, so they must have influence in the government. If the Legion get into trouble here, the contractor goes down with us. That gives them a major incentive to call in favors to help us.”

  “There’s a happy thought,” Ross contemplated his empty coffee cup and set it on the wobbly desk. “The only party that wants us to succeed is a sleazy federal contractor, and only if the Legion is benefitting their bottom line. Have you met our friendly local representatives from Glabosor yet?”

  Perkins shook her head. “I know Glabosor has the contract. I also know they are claiming priority on shipping resources, to build up supply dumps of their equipment. Sir, we have infantry units clustered around their landing site, because we don’t have the dropship capacity to bring their ground and air transport down from orbit. This is back-asswards. None of the colony prep supplies should be landed until the Legion has firm control of that region.”

  “I’m working on it, Colonel,” Ross replied with weary irritation. “Those assholes from Glabosor are building up supply dumps all right, but they’re not dispersing the gear from the landing zone. I’ve been screaming at the Glabosor operations manager to get his ass in gear, because those LZs are big, fat targets. We even offered to help with ground transport, but the company is not budging and it doesn’t make any sense. What I can’t figure is whether they are stupid, stubborn or just hate taking advice from lowly aliens. The ops manager told me I have to submit requests through the Commissioner’s office.”

  Zaring laughed again. “The Commissioner, of course, gave your request immediate consideration?”

  “Commissioner Useless didn’t bother to speak with me, his staff told me they will process the request, when I submit it through proper channels. Oh, hell,” Ross sighed. “It’s not my problem.”

  “It’s somebody’s problem, General,” Perkins mildly corrected her superior officer. “If those supplies are destroyed, the Ruhar have a lot less incentive to support our presence here.”

  “I know, and that’s what doesn’t make sense. If Glabosor loses those supplies, the government might cancel the contract, and the ops manager here won’t get his bonus, whatever that is. I’ll keep pressing the issue with the Commissioner’s office. The only good news I can offer is almost all their supplies have been landed, so our gear will now get priority.” He looked intently at Perkins. “You are set up well for gear and transport.”

  Emily kept a smile off her face. “It helps to have a relationship with the owners of our designated Legion flagship.”

  “Flagship?” Ross exaggerated his reaction. “That’s what we are calling that rustbucket?”

  “There is no rust in space,” Perkins assured her CO. Seeing him tilt his head skeptically and recalling that although Ross had not made the journey to Fresno aboard the Deal Me In, he had toured that ship when it was loading part of the Legion at Paradise. “No rust on the outside of the ship. Most of the hull is composites and exotic matter, they can’t rust.”

  “I saw plenty of what looked like corrosion on my tour, and I’m sure those beetles kept us away from the scariest parts of the ship.” He snorted. “We talked about how many groups want us to fail here, I think the owners of the Deal Me In don’t care whether the Legion succeeds or not, as long as they get paid for this mission. You trust those beetles?”

  Perkins stilled her shoulders to suppress an automatic shrug, a gesture that would not give Ross confidence about the Mavericks’ best asset; a starship of their own. “I trust they will live up to their end of the bargain. They could have bailed as soon as they offloaded the troop carrier and cargo pods, but they jumped thirty lightminutes away and are available if we need them.”

  It was Zaring’s turn to tilt her head at Perkins. “The Jeraptha most likely have remained here to monitor the wagers they made.”

  “They’re here,” Perkins observed. “They can carry messages for us, and assist in pulling us off this rock if needed.”

  Ross tapped the desk, indicating that part of the discussion was over. “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen. Perkins, you’re a celebrity, see if you can use your influence to get Glabosor to disperse their gear away from the supply dumps. I have enough Legion issues keeping me awake at night, I don’t need another headache because an idiot civilian can’t get his furry ass in gear.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Next, let’s review how we are splitting up responsibilities for-”

  Nert hopped off the truck before it stopped moving, bounding across the ground with far more enthusiasm than was appropriate for the occasion. Such was his excitement that instead of running around a stack of building materials, he leapfrogged over the stack.

  “Whoa, whoa there,” Dave waved a hand as Nert ran up to him and Jesse, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet. “You shouldn’t be running around here,” he pointed to the trucks hauling construction materials. “It’s dangerous. You sure shouldn’t be jumping over things.”

  “I am sorry,” Nert’s excited expression barely changed. “It will not happen again.”

  Jesse looked up from the tablet he had been studying. “What’s got you all excited anyway?”

  “I requested permissio
n to assist you, and Surgun Jates approved!” He grinned.

  Jesse blinked. “I thought you were supposed to be helping Shauna set up the tactical database?”

  “Oh, yes,” Nert’s smile showed the faintest of cracks. “Sergeant Jarrett told me to go away and find something else to do, because I was driving her crazy.”

  Jesse had to laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like Shauna. Ok, we could use the help. We have to set up this CHUville, so how about you-”

  Nert shook his head, tilting it to one side as he listened to the translation again. The Ruhar cadet’s knowledge of human languages, especially English, was good enough that he relied on the translator less than a quarter of the time. “I am sorry, Sergeant Colter. What is a ‘choo-ville’?”

  Jesse shared a look with Dave and rolled his eyes. The Ruhar military, and their society overall, did not use slang nearly as often as humans did. Also, the Ruhar tended to speak the full name of an item, rather than compressing the name into an acronym. At first, the Ruhar officers had insisted the humans under their command not use acronyms, but then common Ruhar soldiers began picking up slang with enthusiasm and it spread quickly. “Sorry, I forget your translator don’t like to use slang. ‘CHU’ means Containerized Housing Unit,” he rapped his knuckles on a pallet of wall sections. “It’s like a big shipping box that has been converted to have bunks, doors, windows, all that so soldiers can live in it. They’re better than tents,” he jerked a thumb over one shoulder to where a mottled tan tent was being set up. “Any place where there are a bunch of containers set up to live in, we call that ‘CHUville’, you understand?”

  “Yes,” Nert’s head bobbed with comic enthusiasm. “Chooville,” he sounded out the word. “I like it! But, technically these housing units are not made from shipping containers, they are inflatable,” he said with pride. “They are-” He was forced to stop talking because a Buzzard flew overhead carrying a large pallet on a sling under its belly. The jetblast from its engines drowned out his voice and sent dust swirling so Nert had to cover his eyes.

  Jesse knew the Ruhar housing units, which were called Portable Field Domicile Hut and blah blah something or other, were far superior to any portable structure he had ever lived in. He was also a little sick of the Ruhar reminding him how superior their technology was. He waited until the Buzzard flew far enough away for him to be heard over the howl of its turbine engines. “Technically,” he stared down the alien teenager, “they are not inflatable, because air pressure doesn’t keep them standing.”

  “Oh,” Nert understood his remarks had offended his friends. “I only meant-”

  Jesse bit off a harsher reply when he saw how much Nert regretted his words. “I know you didn’t mean nothin’ by that. Ok, we already got teams working to unload these rolls,” he pointed to the Ruhar huts that were delivered rolled up. “We need someone to set up these Hescos on the perimeter.”

  “Hess-coh?” Nert repeated slowly.

  “Oh man, this is gonna be a long morning,” Jesse muttered to himself. “Barriers. These big barriers that need to run all the way around our little CHUville, for security. We used to call them Hescos, back on Earth. You fill them with dirt and rocks or whatever you can scrounge. Stack them up high as you need, to make a wall.”

  Nert knelt down to examine a pallet of what looked like flattened cardboard boxes. “Oh, these. Yes, these are barriers, but we fill them with water, not dirt,” he cocked his head at the ridiculous notion of laboriously shoveling dirt.

  “I know that,” Jesse was losing patience. The Ruhar barriers unfolded to make empty boxes roughly eight feet long by three wide and four tall. The boxes could interlock with others on any side, forming a wall as high as they needed to be stacked. When Jesse first heard the Ruhar barriers were filled with water, he thought that was an idiotic idea. A single rifle round could puncture the barrier’s skin, allowing the water to drain and rendering an entire wall useless. Then he saw a barrier being set up for the first time, and marveled at the advanced technology. The inner surfaces of the barriers were lined with a spongy nanoscale material that, when the correct electrical charge was applied, combined with water to set up strong, hard and heavy like concrete. Within minutes of a barrier being filled with water and sealed, it would become a solid block that could stop bullets, rockets, even shrapnel from artillery rounds. The best feature was that reversing the process turned the water back into a thin gray mud that could be drained out so the barrier could be moved, or folded back up to be used a dozen or more times. “See these outlines on the ground over there,” he pointed to where orange lines were spray-painted on the bare ground. “We need a double layer of Hescos set up, staggered, and stacked five high. Can you get started on that? You can use one of those dozer rigs.”

  “Ooh, yes,” Nert could not wait to use the power-assisted exoskeleton the humans called a ‘dozer’. The exoskeletons were crude compared to a Ruhar skinsuit or even Kristang hardshell armor, but they could lift impressive loads over uneven terrain.

  “Hey, Cornpone, wait,” Dave cautioned. “Nert, you know how to drive a dozer like that?”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” Nert pressed icons on his phone and held it up for the two humans to see. “I am certified to operate that model, and the heavier version.”

  Dave lifted an eyebrow to his friend. “It’s your call, Jesse.” If the cadet got injured, the Ruhar authorities would blame the Mavericks.

  “What the hell,” Jesse waved Nert toward the dozer, which had sat unused because none of the humans were authorized to drive it. “Let’s see what you can do.”

  As the cadet scampered away to strap into the dozer, Dave edged closer to Jesse, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of another Buzzard flying slowly overhead. “You sure about that, man?”

  “Yeah,” Jesse shrugged and turned back to getting the rolled-up hut unfastened from its pallet. “The hamsters sent him out here with a rifle, right? They know he’s taking risks serving out here with us. He volunteered to drop on this rock with the Legion.”

  “True enough. Let’s keep an eye on him, though, huh?”

  “I’m watching him like a hawk, brother,” Jesse assured the other sergeant.

  Dave snorted. “You just want to see how he operates that dozer, so you can do it.”

  Jesse winked. “You know it.”

  By late that afternoon, the two sergeants, the Ruhar cadet, and a team of twenty people borrowed from another UNEF unit, had most of the encampment set up. Fourteen huts were fully established and ready for occupancy, including hooking up water lines from the distribution hub up against one wall of the camp. The fifteenth hut, which was larger because it was intended for recreation, showers and communications, was lying flopped on the ground, being glared at by a very frustrated Dave Czajka. “What’s wrong, man?” Jesse asked as he walked over to investigate. Jesse was munching on an energy bar, talking in between bites. “You were supposed to get all your huts erected, like, forty minutes ago.”

  “This stupid thing,” Dave kicked the floppy mat that was unrolled properly within the orange lines spray-painted on the ground. “This end goes up halfway and then gets jammed, like it won’t unfold all the way. I tried putting the other end up first, but-”

  “I think these things only inflate from one end,” Jesse cautioned, kneeling down to look closely at the crease in the nanofabric.

  “I know that, ‘Pone,” Dave groaned. “I was just trying to see if I could get it unstuck.”

  “Huh,” Jesse grinned. “All of my huts are set up no problem.”

  Dave glared, his ears turning red. “It’s not my fault that-”

  “I’m just sayin’, it could be operator error, you know?” Jesse teased. “You check the Dash Ten on this thing?”

  “The hamster’s don’t have a separate operator manual for this type of hut,” Dave complained, waving his phone where the instructions were listed. “See?”

  Before Jesse could respond, a familiar figure came around the corne
r of a hut, accompanied by a squad of UNEF soldiers. “Colter, Czajka,” Surgun Jates barked. “You still screwing around here? Why isn’t this hut set up like the others?”

  “Czajka here,” Jesse jerked a thumb toward his fellow sergeant, “is having erection problems.”

  “Hey!” Dave protested. “I don’t-”

  “He can’t get it up,” Jesse added with a straight face.

  Jates scowled, listening to the translation. Then he scowled at Dave. “Czajka, I hear you humans have a pill for that.”

  Dave’s face turned white as the squad behind Jates burst into laughter. “That’s not-”

  “Report to the infirmary when you’re off duty,” Jates advised. “I don’t want to put your name on the Physically Unable to Perform list.”

  “I do not have a problem with my, with my,” Dave could not believe he was having that conversation, with an alien, on an alien planet.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Jates added in a softer tone. “I understand that happens to you humans sometimes. Remember, admitting you have a problem is the first step toward solving it.”

  At that point, Dave was fuming. At Jates, but more at Jesse, who had taken several steps away. “I do not have a-”

  Jates winked.

  “Oh. Oh. You, you, son of a bitch,” Dave exploded with laughter. “You let me think-”

  “Don’t be so gullible, Czajka,” Jates said with a scowl he could not maintain. “What is the problem?”

  “This stupid hut gets stuck halfway up,” Dave lifted his foot to kick the stubborn structure.

  Jates surprised both sergeants by nodding. “This unit is larger than the other huts, you have to activate it from both ends at the same time, or it develops a crease in the middle and gets stuck. There’s a supplemental user manual the fucking hamsters didn’t provide, because they love screwing with us lower lifeforms. They’re probably up there,” he shaded his eyes from the sun and looked at the sky, “laughing their furry asses off at us right now. Wu,” he waved to a Chinese solider standing behind him. “Help Czajka get this damned thing set up. We’re behind schedule already.”