“I applaud your warrior spirit. It is the correct emotional response for our present situation.”
“Yeah,” I said. “So how about we keep moving.”
-19-
After much crawling and later walking through dark corridors, we finally reached a lit area. I hunkered down and examined my hands, expecting to find shredded, blood-dripping flesh. There were scabs and some of the flesh looked pulped. Yet, the damage was less than I’d expected.
“Are you satisfied?” Rax asked.
I touched the battered flesh. It was normal after a fashion. I couldn’t understand the less-than-spectacular damage.
“I couldn’t have healed that much in so short a time,” I said.
“If you are referring to your hands, you are correct.”
“I don’t get it.”
“We discussed this earlier,” Rax said. “It is time to concentrate on the mission.”
“I have to understand what the machine did to me. Am I still human?”
“That is a metaphysical question, one that I am ill-equipped to answer. If it is any consolation, I suspect you are now like some of the ancient Earth heroes.”
“What heroes?”
“This is mere speculation,” Rax said, “but after having read the briefing papers on the subject, I suspect you are like the mythical champions Hercules, Achilles and Gilgamesh.”
“Say again,” I said.
“Could the mysterious being have given similar treatments to such early heroes?” Rax asked. “Remember, they went on to achieve fame on your barbaric planet. Perhaps Hercules and others simply had accelerated strength, an ability to absorb greater damage and an ability to heal faster and more thoroughly than the base population.”
“Why would the mystery aliens do that to them?” I asked.
“That is a primary question the Guard has yet to solve. Before I leave your planet, I hope to have an answer.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“While your education could use substantial broadening,” Rax said, “this is neither the time nor the place for it. Are you ready to begin the assault?”
I peered down a long corridor. We’d reached hieroglyphically adorned walls again, this corridor dimly lit with overhead lamps embedded in the ceiling. In the distance, I could hear churning drills and occasional explosions.
“Do you detect any Unguls keeping watch?” I asked.
“None,” Rax said. “I doubt they expect trouble at this junction. That should prove beneficial to our assault.”
I nodded slowly.
“Time is critical,” Rax said. “We must move into position.”
I picked up the pulse rifle. It was longer than I would have liked and much heavier, although it wasn’t as heavy as a .50 caliber machine gun. I slipped both pouch carrying-straps over my shoulders and started down the corridor.
I could finally see my one-piece. The uniform was metallic-looking but as soft as silk. It kept out the cold, and was adorned with several stars. I’d seen similar garb among the first set of humans in the glass cylinders.
Despite everything I’d been through, I felt unnaturally spry. If I was like Hercules, did that make me a superhero?
I shook my head.
I’d never seen any movie superheroes shred their hands as I’d done. They would have smashed off the grate without a problem. Therefore, I wasn’t in their league, although I was no longer in the bush league, either.
“Is there another access tube nearby?” I asked.
“No. You will walk ahead one thousand, four hundred and thirty-seven steps—”
“You mean waltz right up to them?”
“Essentially, that is correct.”
“We need surprise, remember?”
“This is how we will achieve our surprise. Logan, I detect a rapid heart rate, which undoubtedly indicates nervousness. I suggest you trust my strategic and tactical judgment.”
“The last time I charged ahead—I’m talking about Station 5—I ended up getting captured. I doubt I’ll survive a second capture.”
“In that, I agree. My plan does not entail your capture, but enemy elimination in the local area.”
“Have you broken into their communications or something?” I asked.
“I have,” Rax admitted. “They have a tight net and use a code I am still trying to break. My analysis of the comm chatter leads me to believe they do not expect any enemy interference. However, I do believe they are expecting a possible situation once they break into the place they are drilling. That, no doubt, is why each of their personnel is armed.”
“How many are in the local area?”
“Nineteen effectives,” Rax said.
“That includes the drill operators?”
“Everyone,” Rax said.
I thought about Station 5 and the Unguls I’d faced there. I thought about Z17 and Q11. I remembered how Z17 had lopped off my foot. They’d likely killed the two new hires in Nevada. The Unguls had cut me, chased me, driven me from my latest employment and destroyed my former work world. Who knew what they planned to do to the planet as a whole.
“Do you have a sniper location in mind?” I asked.
“This is an excellent suggestion,” Rax said. “Yes, firing from concealment. I approve of that, and will add it to my tactical configuration.”
The crystal’s latest comment changed the dynamics between us. Until that moment, I’d believed in his Galactic superiority. Rax belonged to a society and civilization that built and flew starships. They were light-years ahead of anything we could do. But did that mean Rax had plain old-fashioned common sense?
If he hadn’t known enough to already figure I would try to kill the Unguls as a hidden sniper, then the crystal lacked the most basic common sense of all—how to survive a firefight.
I would do this exactly how I believed was the best way to do it. I would no longer let his Galactic Guard qualifications awe me. He might be sliced bread in the spaceship department, but I was the former Marine. I was the security expert, and I was the flesh and blood action unit between the two of us.
“Explain the shock sticks to me,” I said, as I hoofed it down the corridor.
“The procedure is simple,” he said. “Twist the top arming mechanism…” He went on to tell me how to set it as a time bomb, and how to ensure maximum blast.
I got the jitters as I broke into a jog. It had been one thing in Nevada crawling in the dark on my home turf. It was another charging down an underground corridor toward an alien drilling site. The whining grew louder. The occasional explosion shook the corridor, causing me to slow down and once to stop because I staggered too much.
“What kind of chamber are they trying to break into?” I asked.
“That is not germane to our present mission,” Rax said.
Did the crystal know, or did he not want to admit that he didn’t? None of it would matter if I couldn’t kill the aliens.
From here, I could see that the Unguls had set up in a vast chamber. It was more like a giant cavern. To my shock, I realized it was a cave, as the walls here were rock instead of metal. Huge lights hung from the ceiling with thick cords trailing down from them.
The Unguls must have put those in. The original invader had a tidier style.
The corridor shook again and rock-dust drifted into view as I staggered closer. Soon, I saw a glimmer of natural light coming from the opposite point of the cavern.
Carefully, I slid along a corridor wall, my palms sweaty and my breathing rapid.
“Are you scanning?” I whispered.
“Affirmative,” Rax said. “Several Unguls are aimed in our direction, although I doubt they can see you in here.”
I halted, and I reminded myself I had to do the combat thinking for the both of us. I slid onto my belly and began to crawl.
“This manner of locomotion substantially lowers our assault speed,” Rax said.
“Getting hit by enemy fire will lower it even more.”
&n
bsp; “Perhaps you do not yet comprehend,” Rax said. “I have already factored that into my calculations. You can absorb more damage than you would expect. Even better, you will heal from secondary strikes—”
“You’re not the one absorbing damage,” I said stiffly. “So, I’ll rely on my own judgment in this.”
“I hesitate to state the obvious, but it is in your own best interest to take advantage of my superior strategic and tactical skills.”
I continued crawling, too intent on watching for Unguls to argue with the crystal.
As I approached the main cavern, I got a better idea of the situation. The cavern was circular and huge like the Oakland Raiders Coliseum. Just like the coliseum, it had levels. Parked hover-pads were on the main level. Three tiers down were three floating drillers. They were oval-shaped with a big drill in the center. Large scoops pushed the rubble to the sides.
I exited the corridor on my stomach and felt the cooler air on my cheeks. A stack of boxes stood nearby. I crawled toward them.
“We have a problem,” Rax whispered. “I have detected more Unguls headed down. They are in the main thoroughfare, using tracked vehicles.”
I reached the boxes and climbed to my feet. I checked the pulse rifle. Everything seemed ready. Before I engaged the power cell, l leaned out. The rifle had a fancy scope. I experimented and soon got the hang of it. One by one, I began to locate and count the enemy.
“Why do you not open fire while you have the opportunity?” Rax asked. “This excessive caution is unwarranted. The Unguls will present themselves once you begin firing. Why are you practicing this pre-combat location?”
“It’s a Marine tradition,” I muttered, my mouth too dry to say more.
“I suggest—”
“Shut up, Rax. Let me concentrate.”
The crystal fell silent.
I counted twelve Unguls. Rax had told me there were nineteen in the drilling area. That left seven I hadn’t found. That was too many, especially with the snow-cats coming with reinforcements.
I eased back behind the boxes, put the rifle on the ground and began placing shock sticks beside it.
“I realize you desire quiet,” Rax said, “but this delay strikes too close to home as cowardice. If you cannot—”
“Rax, we’re going to enter a new phase in our working relationship. I hereby demote you from your leadership role. You’re unsuited to tactical management, anyway. Instead, I am reinstating you in your traditional role as an advisory unit.”
“I feel I must inform you that you lack Guard rank status to—”
“I’m doing this on my authority as a United States Marine sergeant,” I said, interrupting him.
“That lacks all credibility in the Galactic Guard.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. “Now, shut up like I told you. My stomach is in knots, and I have to be steady.”
“Are you about to attack?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, my mouth now totally dry.
I picked up the rifle, flipping several switches as Rax had instructed me earlier in the gun-locker chamber. The pulse rifle purred as it began to vibrate.
I leaned out, laid the end of the barrel on a box and sighted the first Ungul. My palms were slick with sweat. My breathing had increased and I had the shakes.
I began to hum. It helped a little. Ever so gently, I squeezed the trigger—
The weapon vibrated more as its whine increased, and with a spat, an orange pulse-bolt ejected. When I say orange, I mean as bright as a Christmas light. I don’t know how Rax figured I could snipe the Unguls with this thing. The pulse-bolt glowed so brightly that everyone in the cavern had to see it.
The pulse struck the targeted Ungul. He glowed brighter than if I’d hit him with a raygun. He tumbled to the floor as a charred piece of alien meat. If the pulse-bolt didn’t disintegrate him, it definitely killed him, which is all that counted now.
I gritted my teeth, targeted a new Ungul and fired another pulse. One after another, I targeted and fired. This was a speed contest, and I had range on them.
The drilling stopped. The explosions ceased. Some of the Unguls sprinted for cover. They ran faster than a human could. I killed two of the runners. Other Unguls took out their rayguns, firing back at me.
The boxes took hits. Smoke roiled from them. Some of the boxes lost sides, spilling small glittering contents.
I shot eleven times before pulling back behind what remained of the boxes. I had hit and killed six Unguls for sure, maybe cut down another two. That was eight out of nineteen.
With a trembling hand, I picked up the first shock stick, twisted the top cap and stepped out from behind the boxes. I reached back as if trying to throw a long bomb across the length of a football field. I heaved the stick, watching it twirl. Then, I dove behind the boxes as two rays slashed past me.
I heard a loud crump. The shock stick worked, at least. Had it taken out Unguls?
I picked up another stick, twisted the cap and hurled it over the top of the boxes.
“Unguls are flying here commando-style,” Rax said.
I gave a maniacal laugh. I’d been expecting that.
Now, jetpack infantry sounds cool. Flying into battle must have a high all its own. But there was one thing I knew from the Marines. Cover in combat counted for a lot. Flying at a man didn’t give one any cover, but completely exposed the individual.
I leaned against the boxes, took a deep breath and poked around with the pulse rifle. The Unguls flew up from the pit, three of them like bats out of Hell.
I sighted and fired. A pulse-bolt hit one. The alien tumbled backward. The others fired at me. One lost control of his belt and shot up at incredible speed, striking the ceiling. I imagined that Ungul was either dead or incapacitated.
The last one zoomed closer, had almost reached me in fact. I hurled a stick in his direction and ducked.
The stick made the crumping sound. I looked up in time to see the Ungul smash against the wall to my left. He bounced off and flew toward me again.
I shot him at nearly pointblank range, melting enough of the belt to deactivate it. He struck the floor with a thump.
Now, though, three snow-cats roared into the cavern. Each stopped, and out jumped more Unguls. These wore combat gear and carried rifles.
“You must retreat,” Rax said.
“What about the energy cells down there?”
“They are meaningless, as you cannot acquire them and live. I need you alive, Logan. I have to admit, though, that was a stirring exhibition of combat prowess. You are an uncommonly good soldier for a human. I would not have believed it unless I had actually seen it.”
“They’re going to chase us.”
“They were about to chase us in any regard.”
“What do you mean?” I shouted.
“First, we must escape the battlefield. I will tell you then.”
“You mean you lied to me about the reason for our assault?”
“That is one interpretation. Please, Logan, retreat. You have done much better than I expected. The Unguls are about to use heavy weaponry against us.”
With the pulse rifle in one hand and the rest of the shock sticks in the other in a pouch, I pivoted for the corridor and sprinted like mad.
-20-
“What’s happening back there?” I wheezed from inside the corridor.
“The Unguls have acquired a fix on you,” Rax said. “I believe they will initiate a full-scale search until they have you in captivity.”
I raced down the corridor as air burned down my throat. Behind us in the cavern, I heard snow-cats rev.
“Why did we make the assault if it couldn’t succeed?” I panted.
“The attack was dangerous but necessary,” Rax said. “Remember, I am a top-rated strategist and have plans within plans. I have also been analyzing you since the beginning. The percentages were high that you would balk if you knew the truth.”
“What truth?” I shouted.
“
You only had a thirty-seven percent chance of survival. I did not anticipate such a bloodthirsty manner of assault on your part. Clearly, these Marines are a formidable combat organization.”
“You’re just buttering me up,” I said. “You don’t really believe what you said.”
“Turn left,” Rax said.
“Balls!”
I slid to a stop, turned around, got on one knee and aimed the rifle down the corridor.
“That is unnecessary,” Rax said. “And it lowers our odds of survival. We have engaged them as needed. Now we must—”
The rifle whined as I fired, sending an orange pulse down the corridor. I watched through the scope. Two Unguls who had raced into the corridor ducked back out of sight.
I sprang to my feet and went left, as Rax had suggested. A hover-pad waited there in the shadows. Instead of berating the crystal about not telling me about it sooner, I pitched the rifle onto the pad, jumped up and pressed controls.
“We will travel into the darkness as I navigate,” Rax said.
I panted as I followed his instructions. We zipped into darkness except for the control lights on the steering panel. Riding instead of running was a vast improvement. Sweat slicked my forehead, but it was less than I’d expected.
“What else have you kept from me?” I said.
“We activated equipment—the machine in particular. It appears the Unguls have been monitoring the interior complex. I detected an increase in comm chatter. The probability was high that they were about to hunt for us. A first strike on our part seemed judicious.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “If they were going to hunt us, we should have ambushed them in the corridors instead of attacking head-on in an area where they could deploy their superior numbers.”
“The reason why we attacked should be obvious to you.”
“Well, it’s not,” I snapped.
“I am disappointed in you, Logan. We did not attack to gain the energy cells or even to retard their search for us. We attacked in order to throw them off the real trail. The ship is recharging even as we speak.”
“How can it do that?”
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