The Never Army

by Hodges, T. Ellery

  Jonathan’s eyes glimmered with recognition. “What’s the question?”

  Bodhi had to translate for the Ferox to understand. As it replied, he took some time, frowning as he tried to make sense out of its reply. “The prophet asks . . . is it that you can’t or that you won’t?”

  Jonathan took a long breath as he looked down at the Ferox.

  Rivers, confused by all of it, looked back and forth between Bodhi and Jonathan. “I don’t understand. How . . . even if you wanted to, how would he expect to get an answer?”

  Jonathan looked at Rivers for a moment and shook his head. “Malkier doesn’t care about the answer.”

  Rivers frowned, but a look at Jonathan’s face was enough for him to know that this was not the time for follow-up questions.

  “This one give you a name?” Jonathan asked.

  “Aye, got a name?” Bodhi asked.

  The creature replied. Though Rivers could not imagine how it was possible that the growling sounds went on as long as they did just to give a name. Even Bodhi sighed impatiently as he listened. When it was over, he frowned. “. . . Buries the Grave?”

  Jonathan nodded, then knelt until he was staring into where its eyes should be. He was thoughtful, quiet, as he considered the helpless monster. “Bodhi, tell him, if he’s really unlucky, he’ll get to deliver my reply.”

  With a nod to Perth and Beo, they secured the muzzle in place. Jonathan picked up what remained of his coat. Without it to cover him, he might as well have still been on fire as he strode away. He waited outside the group for a bit, looking far away until Perth yelled that the muzzle was secure.

  “Bring us home, Mr. Clean,” Jonathan said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  OCT 23, 2005 | 8 PM | HANGMAN’S TREE

  WORD OF THE cargo Jonathan and his team had acquired spread quickly when they returned from the island. There was fear, respect, and disbelief on the faces of everyone who saw a captured Ferox held inside the Borealis steel containment cell.

  For some of the soldiers, this was the first time they had seen a Ferox in the flesh. Well—for the moment they were hearing the muffled growls of a formless shape wearing a muzzle.

  Jonathan had mixed feelings about letting their return become some sort of parade. Perth and Bodhi had pointed out that it might boost spirits to let the men be part of a victory.

  That wasn’t why he decided to do so.

  Jonathan knew two things. One, keeping the captured beast a secret wouldn’t last a day. Two, everyone in the building was taking his leadership on faith. Faith—that he and Heyer had a plan. He couldn’t let them in on the big picture, but their loyalty deserved every reason to be sustained. So, while he could have had Mr. Clean teleport Buries the Grave wherever he wanted now that he was bagged and tagged, he decided to march the beast right through a set of large bay doors at the front of Hangman’s Tree.

  At first, the crowd trickled in around them. But as he progressed the numbers grew, drawing more and more to the spectacle. There were only whispers at first.

  “How come no one said these things could go invisible.”

  “Crazy bastards actually caught a Ferox.”

  “Man, I’m telling you. Balls. Of. Steel.”

  They reached the doors of what would soon be known as the Feroxian containment block, where Jonathan planned to hold the beasts as more operations on the island were successful. By then, a much louder sound had risen from the crowd of onlookers. A chant.

  “Brings the Rain. Brings the Rain.”

  He’d heard his Feroxian title whispered more and more, since he’d stepped out of the projection chamber and found that Heyer had been broadcasting their friendly sparring session.

  But hearing whispers when he walked through a room was one thing. As they chanted, Jonathan felt a weight leave him, if only for a moment. His men, they looked at him as though, yes, they would follow him into war.

  As the doors began to close behind them, something changed in the crowd. The chant stuttered a bit and changed to something new.

  “We won’t bend. We won’t bend.”

  Even after the doors were shut, they could still be heard on the other side for some time. He was alone with the few men who had accompanied him to the island. He shut his eyes and took a long breath.

  “You guys go bask in some glory,” Jonathan said. “Unfortunately, I must make it an order, but thank you.”

  As they turned to leave, Jonathan put a hand on River’s shoulder.

  “Not you, Rivers, I need a word.”

  The men stepped outside while the chanting was still audible. Rivers waited, but Jonathan didn’t say anything. Instead, his war council joined them in the chamber.

  “Well,” Paige said, flashing Jonathan a smile. “Someone’s popular this evening.”

  “They’ve all seen what can be done,” Anthony said. “I’m betting tomorrow, many will want to be part of the next bag and tag operation.”

  Rivers was silently taking this all in, waiting for someone to explain what was happening. When Leah joined them, he seemed at a complete loss.

  She’d watched Jonathan as those chants followed him inside. He didn’t smile exactly, but something touched his eyes. She had watched him for some time now. His confidence always appeared unshakable, but the Jonathan she knew had never been the type to inspire others like this. She wondered if, seeing he’d given everyone a reason to believe, to keep faith, it let him take a breath while he was suffocating.

  By the time the Ferox’s cage was locked into place, the glimmer in Jonathan’s eyes was gone. Mr. Clean wasn’t long in identifying and disabling the apparatus cloaking the prisoner.

  A set of prehensile cables formed from the floor and reached into the beast’s prison. The ends intersected with two points, one on the Ferox’s forehead and the other on the rear of its skull. Suddenly, what had been vaguely discernable within the shackles began to appear. The process started at the feet as a thin liquid coating on the Ferox’s body retreated up toward its forehead. There, the light-bending substance disappeared into a circular band around the Ferox’s forehead.

  Leah saw that the black band wasn’t so much worn as fastened to the Ferox’s head. She’d have thought it a branded black scar ringing the creature’s skull, but Mr. Clean’s manipulation caused it to suddenly go slack.

  Her understanding was that removing the dampening bracer from Heyer’s forearm had taken the AI over an hour of intense decryption. This led her to suspect the AI possessed more than a theoretical familiarity with the cloaking band, as deactivation and removal only took a few seconds.

  The cables gently pulled the circlet from the cage, carrying the band to the center of the room where an exam table rose out of the floor to accept it. Jonathan and Heyer weren’t as interested in the band as they now were with two broken leathery sacs strapped to the Ferox’s back.

  “What can you tell us about the gas this thing hit us with tonight?” Jonathan asked.

  “My analysis has confirmed your initial suspicions,” the AI said. “It appears Cede has manufactured an aerosol capable of rapidly degrading the Earth-based derivative of Borealis steel. It is an aggressive exothermic reaction—generates a great deal of heat.”

  “Explains why I burst into flames,” Jonathan grumbled. He looked at the remains of his armored jacket as though the sight made him angry.

  When he noticed that Leah had seen this, he shook his head. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

  “The only good news is that the compound is ineffective against true Borealis Steel. Such a thing would be too dangerous for Malkier to develop as, like me, Cede is literally composed of it.”

  The declaration did bring a degree of relief to Jonathan and Heyer; everyone else was only left with questions.

  “Wait, there’s a difference between the steels?” Hayden asked.

  This prompted a brief lecture from Mr. Clean. Leah was surprised to learn that previously whenever she’d heard references
to Alien Steel and Borealis Steel, she’d mistakenly assumed the terms were interchangeable. On the contrary, what they referred to as Alien Steel was a metal made from Earth-based materials and tempered through Borealis metallurgy. True Borealis steel was far superior but required alloys whose raw materials could not be mined on Earth—or even within the dimension Earth called home.

  For the practical purposes of their army, the only difference was supply. Jonathan and his forces had access to as much of the Earth-based metal as they realistically wanted. The supply of true Borealis steel was far more limited.

  In this dimension, the only source was Mr. Clean—literally. The AI’s vessel was made of the stuff. He could use pieces of himself to forge armor and weapons—but if he gave too much, he would have to leave the dimension to replenish himself. Mr. Clean leaving the dimension, even for a day, while they waited for an imminent attack from the Feroxian Plane, was unthinkable.

  Jonathan and the alien swapped troubled looks.

  “The problem with buying time is that it does the same for your enemy. Malkier is no longer reacting on raw emotion. He is preparing for war, and it appears that he is no longer putting his faith wholly in overwhelming numbers,” Heyer said.

  Jonathan sighed. “This is why we’ve been losing men. All the Mechs are fitted with the Earth-based steel shielding. This gas would have rendered them more useless than if we’d made them out of plastic. Our soldiers’ weapons and armor turned to sludge in their hands.”

  Leah could see how the revelation was affecting him. Knew he was blaming himself, knew he was thinking it had been him who put the weapons in their hands. Him who ordered the Mechs to support them. While he’d probably saved an incalculable number with the decision, he was only picturing the ones who saw their weapon melt away in their hands after trusting him.

  The Mechs had brought their fatalities down to zero for some time now. Jonathan had gotten the prolonged luxury of being able to take every loss as his own personal failure because he’d immediately brought the number down to zero. A man in his position couldn’t allow himself to keep thinking that way when things went wrong.

  She suspected Jonathan knew this on an intellectual level.

  There was a long silence as the bigger picture of just how much had changed out on that island tonight slowly sunk in. Despite the chants of victory that had followed Jonathan’s return, his ability to arm his forces had just taken a serious blow. He’d seemed almost prescient in his planning—but he hadn’t seen this coming.

  “Why use this before assaulting Earth?” Leah asked. “Why risk us finding out about it.”

  “Could be he needed to test it,” Heyer said.

  “Maybe, but I think Leah is right, there is more to it than that.”

  Whether Jonathan was right or wrong, no one offered a theory before Collin diverted their attention.

  “Um, not to distract from one huge problem, but isn’t anyone else more worried about the device we just took off Mr. Grumpy over there?” Collin asked, nodding at the exam table. “I mean, while I see that the notion that we’ll be fighting these things with flaming Jell-O is troubling, aren’t you a little more worried that they are going to be invisible?”

  “Fortunately, that isn’t the case,” Heyer said. “Malkier only has seven of these devices. Six, now that this one is in our possession.”

  While this came as a palpable relief to everyone, Leah noticed Jonathan eyeing the alien. “How can you be sure?”

  “This isn’t Borealis tech,” Heyer said.

  “Not Borealis tech?” Hayden asked.

  “If it was, I would have had Mr. Clean issue one to every soldier in Hangman’s Tree.”

  Hayden blinked a few times then repeated himself slowly. “Not . . . Borealis . . . tech?”

  Heyer sighed. “Humans and the Borealis are not the only species in existence to have ever reached some level of technological achievement. The Borealis went through a long period of culling species they saw as an eventual threat to their immortality. This device is a creation of one of those long dead species.”

  “What were they called?” Hayden asked.

  “There has never been need of an English term for the species,” Heyer said.

  Hayden looked to Jonathan as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Tibbs sighed and shrugged. “Believe it or not this issue comes up a lot in present company.”

  Paige, mostly quiet so far, watched Collin and Hayden exchanging glances with one another and she rolled her eyes. “You two want to name the species, don’t you?”

  Hayden nodded at the black band on the exam table. “Well, it would be easier than calling this the Extinct Alien Species Cloaking Device,” he said defensively.

  Paige, expression having gone deadpan, stared back at them. This went on for a few seconds, “. . . they want to name it after the Predator.”

  Both Collin and Hayden suddenly froze.

  “No,” Collin said with a scoff. “We were thinking . . . the Yautja.”

  Hayden nodded in agreement.

  Paige’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Clean, if I was a dork, would I know that Yautja is what the Predators call themselves?”

  “Not in the films, but in the comic book ser—”

  “Okay fine,” Hayden admitted. “You name them.”

  “Maybe I will,” Paige said.

  “If we could focus on something of consequence,” Heyer cut in. “The reason we know Malkier only has six more of these devices is because I was with him when we recovered them. The individual units were inside a . . .”

  Heyer paused, looked annoyed for a moment, then said “. . . a Yautja vessel. The craft had been left derelict in space, its crew members dead for centuries. We never encountered any other artifacts from their civilization.”

  The three that had been bickering all acknowledged that with some embarrassment. “No invisible Ferox army, just six. That’s good,” Collin said.

  “If I may chime in, I’ve scanned the Yautja device and it does appear to have been altered,” Mr. Clean said. “While its primary function has not been changed, a Borealis recording device has been attached.”

  This brought another pause from the group.

  “Wait, so Malkier was spying on us?” Paige said, her eyes turning to Leah. “We just can’t catch a break on that, can we?”

  Leah sighed before returning a disingenuous smile.

  Jonathan and Heyer had been quiet, lost in their own thoughts. They looked up at one another as though they’d both reached the same conclusion.

  “He was trying to see our hand without showing his own,” Jonathan said.

  Heyer nodded.

  “You two gonna share with the rest of the class?” Paige asked.

  “The Ferox can’t bring back useful information on technology,” Heyer said. “But for the last few weeks every engagement has ended with a Ferox death. Malkier needs to know why. Needs to know if we have a new weapon we’re using against his people. He had two choices, enter the gates himself, or find a way to record what happens inside. Of course, he can’t risk himself, so he chooses the latter.”

  “He doesn’t want us discovering his recording device, but he needs to test his new weapon-killing aerosol.”

  “Weapon X gas,” Collin said.

  Hayden sighed. “Wolverine reference, why?”

  “I mean . . .” Collin shrugged. “It’s a gas that destroys weapons made from metal we thought was invincible. Seemed appropriate.”

  “So, he stacks the odds in the Ferox’s favor, gives them a Yautja cloaking unit and . . . WX gas. Then records the fight,” Paige said.

  Leah chimed in, “But, he doesn’t predict us pulling one of his spies to true Earth. Expects his tracks will be erased when The Never closes. We learn as much about him as he did about us.”

  “Three men dead, he knows the WX gas works, knows about the Mechs,” Anthony said. “Not sure it’s a fair trade.”

  “You haven’t considered what would have
happened if we went to war and didn’t know about the WX,” Leah said. “Who knows how many of us would have been lost before we understood what was happening to our weapons.”

  Jonathan nodded thoughtfully. “Mr. Clean, how much of this WX should we expect Malkier will be able to produce?”

  Mr. Clean’s expression was grave. “Realistically, as much as he wants. The components are abundant on the Feroxian Plane. That, and after analysis, the process to manufacture the stuff in large quantities would not be complicated or time consuming.”

  “Can it be countered? Rendered inert somehow?” Jonathan asked.

  “I’ll need to run some tests to see if any Earth-based components might be effective, but my hopes are limited on that front. That said, the reaction is dependent on the presence of oxygen as a catalyst.”

  “Does that help?” Paige asked. “Last I checked, we’re all pretty dependent on that.”

  Jonathan wasn’t so quick to discount it. “My armor was coated in carbon, but it didn’t protect it.”

  “No, the reaction is highly aggressive. Any imperfection, a simple scratch in the coating that left the metal exposed would be enough,” Mr. Clean said. “That said, the coating likely slowed the onset by reducing the steel’s exposed surface area.”

  “That would explain why you didn’t burst into flames right away,” Rivers said.

  He hadn’t spoken much so when he did, the entire war council turned to look at him as though they’d forgotten he was there.

  “What if we had something airtight coating the exterior?” Rivers asked.

  Jonathan nodded. “Something that doesn’t scratch or crack when one of us gets thrown through a wall. Mr. Clean, did the Borealis have any materials with properties like rubber or neoprene? Something we could produce on Earth that could take a lot of punishment.”

  “Yes,” Mr. Clean said, a large cartoon smile appearing on his face. “Coincidently, Hayden and I have already begun work on a prototype for the very thing you are describing.”

  Everyone turned to Hayden in surprise. Heyer, more shocked than the rest, said, “A remarkable amount of foresight considering we only just learned of its necessity.”