Battlecruiser Alamo: Cage of Gold

by Richard Tongue

   “Why did they hesitate?” he asked.

   “They think that this transponder is one of them,” she replied. “I was hoping that would happen.” She looked at the door, and her smile evaporated. “Tell me you have some explosives with you.”

   “Even if I had them, I wouldn’t know what to do with them.”

   “We’ve got a new problem. This door is locked, sealed tight as a drum.” She pulled out a datapad and a series of connectors, and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

   The footsteps had increased their pace, and began to rattle the metal floor as they grew closer. There was no point disturbing Harper with exhortations to work faster. She knew what she was doing, what was at stake, and reminding her of that would only distract her.

   Foster began to groan, and he adjusted his posture, trying to support her better. They needed a stretcher, really, and two men to carry her rather than one, though if he was wishing, a fully-equipped trauma center would be more immediately useful. Or a battering ram to bring that door down.

   “Damn it,” Harper said, yanking a connector away.

   “Are we heading for last stand territory?” he asked.

   “Not yet we’re not. I’ve told you before, I don’t do one-way missions.” She pulled out a different connector and slotted it in, a complicated series of numbers and letters flashing on the datapad. “That’s more like it.”

   Salazar turned around, looking at the end of the corridor, less than a hundred meters away. He looked down at the pistol at his belt, but it didn’t seem likely that it would be enough not this time. There were at least six different sets of footprints, and after hearing the noise ahead of them, they would shoot first and ask questions later. A glance around revealed no cover here, no places to hide.

   Harper’s hand was a blur as she frantically attempted to open the door, using every trick she knew, and inventing a few on the spot as she improvised. Salazar looked back at her, trying and failing to follow her work, but finally, a series of green lights slowly began to wink on, one after another.

   A figure turned the corridor as the door slid open, and they unceremoniously raced through, Harper stepping aside to allow Salazar to take the lead, carefully guiding Foster through the door. With a quick tug, the cables came free, and the door slammed shut again.

   “They won’t open that in a hurry. Though neither will we.” She gestured down the last corridor, another few meters ahead, and said, “One more door to open, and this time I have plenty of time.”

   Glancing down at his watch, Salazar replied, “Not that much time. God knows what’s happening up on the surface.”

  Chapter 24

   Cooper glanced to his left and right, looking at the army that had grown overnight. His own Espatiers on the left, under Corporal Vaughan in the absence of Sergeant Gurung, with Corporal Max standing beside him. On the right, and behind him, the mass of Neander troops, a few riflemen at the head.

   At the base of the plateau, the Guardsman had instantly realized that an attack was imminent, and had turned their formation to cover them, preparing for a fighting withdrawal. A part of him was tempted to call off the attack, to let this be a bluff rather than an actual engagement, but one glance at the Neander leaders convinced him that they would give the order themselves if he did not. Alone, they stood no chance at all against the massed fire of the enemy, and they knew that. He couldn't leave them to fight alone.

   Nor was there any way that he could conceal this attack. All the tactical options had melted down to none. One charge down the slope, supported by suppressing fire, and the hope that they would get sufficient mass of troops into melee combat to break the enemy lines.

   “Sir,” Max said. “To the rear.” He pointed, and Cooper saw more dust trails heading in their direction. Reinforcements. If there were doubts left in his mind, that solitary cloud of dust dispelled them, and he took a deep breath, pulling his gun from his holster. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it right.

   “All forces,” he said, raising his gun to the air. “Charge!”

   He pulled the trigger, and as the crack of the bullet resounded across the plateau, he began to race forward, down the hill, a massive surge of troops at his back. Below, the guardsmen held their fire, their four machine guns taking careful aim, waiting for them to get close enough to be sure of their shots.

   Vaughan led the Espatiers on a charge to selected positions on the slope, moving into whatever cover they could find to make maximum use of their range advantage. They dashed ahead of the Neander, sliding into position, and beginning to open up with carefully aimed shots before the enemy could respond. Simply attempting to keep the enemy’s heads down wasn’t going to work, not fighting a foe that had no care for the lives of individual soldiers. They had to kill them, kill them all, or die in the attempt.

   Logically, rationally, Cooper should have been with his own men, but as he felt the surge of excitement swell within him, the force of hundreds of warriors at his back with their weapons raised and ready, he knew that he had made the right decision. The commander had to lead from the front, and if there was to be any hope of restoring peace between the two races on this planet, someone had to make the first gesture. If it earned him a bullet in the belly, so be it.

   The ground was rough and unstable underfoot, and he saw an unlucky Neander tumble, rolling down the hill in a heap, causing one behind him to trip over him, making it worse. The force surged around them, narrowing their attack still further, and the ferocious blast of fire from the machine guns opened up at that point, bullets ripping into the front line of the attack, warriors dropping all around him.

   For a second, the heart began to seep out of the attacking force, and there was a chance that it might all have ended there and then in a desperate rout, but Max turned, screamed a fierce battle yell, and raced on down the hill at Cooper’s side, the pistol in his hand firing wildly, more to prove a point than with any expectation of killing one of the enemy.

   The covering fire was beginning to have an effect, the machine gunners falling at their posts, their comrades moving to take their place, but the delay buying them a few more meters of advance. The air smelled of cordite and blood, and was filled with the screams of the dead or the dying, punctuated with the rattle of the machine guns and the cracks of fire from the Espatier riflemen above.

   As the line drew close, Cooper reached into his pocket and hurled a grenade clear, one of the last they had left, and a ball of fire ripped into the right of the enemy lines, fragments of molten metal tearing into synthetic flesh. On the far side of the formation, another exploded, Private Martinez filling her role as grenadier.

   If androids could panic, he was seeing it now. Dozens of Neander lay behind them, their life’s blood scattered on the rocks, but they had died to give them this chance, and a wave of tribal warriors surged over the defenses, axes and clubs tearing into steel and plastic, savage fury erupting against an implacable line of metal.

   Cooper took a step back, allowing others to make the final charge, using his pistol to pick off any target that present itself. His spent clip dropped to the ground, his last replacement sliding into place as he fired his last remaining shots at any opportunity, watching one of the guardsmen drop to the ground, curling back over the barricade.

   Somehow, astonishingly, the androids were holding their line, switching from rifles to knives with barely a pause, ripping into the attacking Neander, ignoring wounds that would have sent any human screaming for mercy, for relief. As Cooper fired the last of his rounds, he tossed his pistol aside, reaching for his dagger, and dived over the barricade with the second wave of Neander, another hundred warriors surging into the fray.

   Up above, he could hear Vaughan calling for a charge of his own, the situation so confused that any shots from outside the melee were more likely to do harm than good. His world had shrunk from overall command of the battle to the knif
e in his hand and the opponent to his front, moving more rapidly than he could but with a predictability that he could exploit to his advantage, trading parry for riposte, before a stone axe from his neighbor caught the android by surprise, sending him crashing to the ground.

   He stepped forward, pushing into the reducing lines. If they escaped and were able to reform, none of this would be of any use. Any attack against prepared defenses was bound to fail, though to his right, he saw some of the Neander breaking and running, the androids shortening their own defensive lines to compensate, forming into a square.

   The battle was balanced on a knife-edge, and he yelled for more troops to come forward, pushing in, two Neander for every android, though their losses were greater than that fearful toll. Reaching forward to stab, he cut a gash down the side of one of their foes, only to leave himself momentarily overexposed when the enemy refused to fall, only saved by one of his allies pushing him to the side, sending him rolling behind a mound of sandbags.

   Suddenly, everything seemed to change, as the androids started to move away, and he heard a round of shots echoing from the walls of the canyon, then a second, and a third, well-organized gunfire hammering into the rear of the enemy. It could not be the Espatiers, bereft of ammunition as they were. He could see Hunt out of the corner of his eye, his rifle turned into an improvised spear with a knife strapped to the barrel, already stained with blood. Nor were the Neander the target, the androids instead collapsing by the dozen, breaks beginning to open up in their lines.

   “Come on!” he yelled. “We’ve almost got them!”

   With one last burst of strength, he charged forward, slamming into the nearest android and sending him toppling to the ground, severing its head with a savage slash of his knife while one of the Neander looked on approvingly. The weight of numbers was now overwhelmingly in their favor, and the pocket of androids grew smaller and smaller, until the Neander had them completely surrounded, with no way for them to escape.

   A rage born of decades of frustration and brutality was unleashed upon them, Cooper taking a step back to allow them to release their fury on the cold machines that had overseen their exile into the harsh, wild lands beyond the crater, the dense air energizing them and driving them onward, the fight degenerating into a dozen vicious melees, each ending one by one as the androids at their heart collapsed into a pile of broken parts.

   Looking beyond, Cooper saw a long, thin line of soldiers, rifles and machine guns trained at the firefight, a pair of officers at their head, a general and a lieutenant. He stepped forward, a group of furious Neander behind him, holding them back with a look. Whatever happened now and in the future, he had fought beside them and in their way, and was one of them in a way that could never be broken.

   “What are your intentions?” he barked, his knife still clutched in his hand, purple fluid dripping from the point. “I still have a battle force.”

   “Most certainly you do,” one of the officers said. “We haven’t met, but I’ve heard a lot about you. I presume you are Ensign Cooper.”

   “I am.”

   “This is a trick,” Wolpis said, eyeing them warily.

   “It’s no trick,” the officer replied. “I am General Blaine, and I’d like to return something I’ve borrowed from you.”

   From the end of the line, a familiar figure stepped out, waving his gun in the air, and Sergeant Gurung raced towards Cooper, hand outstretched.

   “Sorry it took me so long to get here, sir. I’ll try and do better next time.”

   “This man is your brother?” Wolpis asked, peering at Gurung. “He is one of your tribe?”

   Nodding, Cooper said, “He is my right hand.”

   “So be it.” Stepping forward, he said, “I welcome you to our war.”

   The sounds of battle were fading now, many of the Neander racing up the hill, remembering the friends and comrades they had left behind up there, hurrying to see if there was any chance that their lives could be saved, no matter how belatedly. Blaine was lying just short of the barricade, motionless on the ground, faint gasps wracking his body. With a quick nod from Cooper, Corporal Vaughan led the Espatiers after them, medical kits in hand, to offer what aid they could.

   “You didn’t answer my question, General,” Cooper asked. “What are your intentions today?”

   “We came to wipe out the Territorial Guard, Ensign,” he replied. As the Neander dispersed, he looked at the scattered remains, and said, “What the hell?”

   “Androids, controlled by some force in the city,” Cooper answered, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

   Bluntly, Wolpis, his eyes narrowed, looked at Daniels and asked, “Are you on our side?”

   “Why are you here?”

   “Food for our starving children,” he replied. “Those aliens have four times our number waiting up on the plateau, waiting for I don’t know what.”

   “We haven’t got enough food for our own,” Daniels said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to have to fight you here today, but if that is what you came for, I’m not going to have a choice.”

   “You’ll lose,” Wolpis said, and both sides began to move closer, weapons hefted in their hands, the fury of battle beginning to rise once again to the surface.”

   “Stop this!” Cooper yelled. “If you fight here, then both sides lose. It’s obvious what is happening, the not-men are building up an army to conquer this planet. They pointed us at you in the hopes that we’d weaken both sides, and all you are doing is playing into their hands. General, do you want your people to be massacred? Wolpis, would you trade away the freedom you have sought for so long?”

   “What do you propose, then?”

   “Alamo can produce supplies for all of you, and materials that can triple, quadruple your food production. Hydroponic plants, carniculture vats, we can manufacture all of these with our fabricators.” He gestured towards town, and asked, “What’s happening in New Jamestown?”

   “Your people have landed in force,” Daniels said. “There’s heavy fighting all over the place, the Guard against a few of my people and all of yours. I got a radio message before the jamming got heavy, Captain Marshall is commanding the operation.”

   “Any word of Ensign Salazar?” Bradley asked, stepping forward.

   “Nothing, I’m afraid. What little we know is garbled.”

   “Then we’ve got to get to town, right now, and come to their assistance. Our forces will be lightly armed, and the Guard will overwhelm them.” He looked at the jeeps, and asked, “How many can you take on those?”

   “Maybe fifty, at a pinch.”

   “Right. Corporal Hunt, you will remain behind with ten men to supervise the casualty operations. We’ll take whatever medics you have as well, General.”

   “Who put you in charge?” the lieutenant asked.

   Turning to face him, Cooper said, “Well, frankly, I did, Lieutenant, and if you have a problem with that, you are free to take it to the proper authorities. We’re trying to save everyone on this planet. Your call.”

   “Be quiet, Franks,” Bradley said.

   “My people must come as well,” Wolpis said. “I trust you, Cooper, but I do not trust the rest of your people. I dare not, for the future of mine hangs in the balance, and that is a treasure I will not yield easily.”

   “Twenty from each side,” Cooper said, in an air that brooked no criticism. “We’re going to need rifles and ammunition for all.”

   Franks turned to Bradley, and said, “Sir, in all good conscience I cannot permit weapons to be handed over to these savages. They’ll just stab us in the back when they get a chance!”

   His tirade was interrupted by a bullet smashing into the ground at his feet, Max pointing his pistol at the hotheaded officer.

   “If I shoot you, it will not be in the back,” he said. “I could have killed you in a second, the rest of my people cou
ld overwhelm you in a heartbeat, tear you limb from limb, but all that will lead to is the slavery and death of us all. If you haven’t got the wit to see that, then get out of the damn way for those of us who can!”

   “I’ll have you court-martialled,” Franks said.

   “Lieutenant, I’ll have you shot myself if you don’t shut up,” Daniels replied. “We’re going to have to trust each other sooner or later, I guess, and we might as well make a start now.” He turned to his men, and said, “Let’s get this show on the road. We move out in five minutes!”

  Chapter 25

   Clouds of smoke still filled the street as Marshall picked his way over the battered barricades, a group of soldiers racing past him to deal with a remaining pocket of resistance in a bar, the staccato rattle of a machine gun intermittently audible in the background. His crewmen were starting to deal with the aftermath of the battle, small teams working on clearing the road, sorting the bodies, helping the wounded. Caine jumped out of the jeep followed by Lieutenant Higgins, who snapped a sharp salute.

   “Thanks for coming, Lieutenant,” Marshall said.

   “I read in a book that the cavalry always turns up at the last minute, sir.” Looking around, he said, “I’m afraid there isn’t much of it this time, though. I’ve got less than a platoon here, but I did bring additional rifles and ammunition for your men.” He smiled, then said, “I think we’re getting close to using up every round on the planet. I don't care as long as they end up in those red-uniformed bastards.”

   Chief Kowalski ran up to his side, shaking his head, and said, “Nasty mess, sir. Three of ours dead, twelve wounded. Doctor Duquesne is on her way to the hospital with the worst of them, and Garland is setting up a triage facility in the barber’s shop over the road.”