Exodus: Empires at War: Book 3: The Rising Storm

by Doug Dandridge

  “They can’t stay,” said the Marine, pointing a finger at the mother. The children crowded in close to her, looking at the man with wide eyes, while the mother stifled a cry.

  “And why not?” asked Jennifer, glaring at the man and putting a hand on the mother’s shoulder.

  “This place is only for Marines and their dependents,” said the man, returning the doctor’s glare. “We don’t have room for them.”

  “Then I guess you don’t have room for me either,” said Jennifer, planting her hands on her hips. “Since I am neither a Marine nor a dependent.”

  “You’re the lady of a Marine officer,” said the man. “Maybe not technically a dependent, but still in.”

  “If they don’t stay then I don’t stay,” said Jennifer, frowning at the man. “I will not let you put them out in that wilderness. They wouldn’t survive the next couple of hours.”

  “I have my orders, ma’am. I…”

  “Doctor Conway,” said another Marine, a woman with the silver bars of a lieutenant on her collar. “Thank Allah you are here.”

  “I was just leaving,” she said to the officer, turning to get back in the car.

  “But, why?” asked the officer, looking over at the enlisted man. “What is going on here?” She turned back to the doctor. “Doctor Conway. We have injured in need of your services. More than our medics can deal with.”

  “And I have people I am responsible for,” said Jennifer, looking at the mother who was climbing into the aircar. The officer looked at the enlisted man, a question on her face.

  “She has civilians with her who are not authorized to be here,” said the man.

  “Oh, for Allah’s sake, private,” said the officer. She looked back at Jennifer. “Of course they can stay, Doctor. I couldn’t live with myself turning children out into that death factory of a jungle.” The Lieutenant turned back to the man. “Have someone settle them into quarters, and get this car out of here.

  “Would you come with me, Doctor? We have some patients for you.”

  “What’s going to happen to my car?” asked Jennifer as she followed the officer past the lake and toward the entrance to the caverns.

  “We’re parking all vehicles in the jungle, so we don’t give away our location.”

  “Can’t they spot all the people from space?”

  “They could, if we didn’t have a holo projector showing them an empty plateau,” said the woman, leading Jennifer into the cavern. “Holo also spoofs their infrared, some. We still don’t want to risk parking hot vehicles out in the open. Sergeant Liatrell,” she yelled, and a Marine with the insignia of a medic ran over. “This is Doctor Jennifer Conway, Captain McKinnon’s friend.”

  “Thank God you’re here, Doctor,” said the medic, holding out a hand that was enclosed in a surgical glove. Jennifer took the hand, aware that the glove would remain sterile and clean no matter what. “We’re patching them up, but some still need more permanent fixes.”

  “Do you have an autodoc here?” asked Jennifer, following the medic toward a part of the cavern she had not seen before.

  “No ma’am,” said the medic, leading her through a door into a long room that was full of beds, each with an injured person on it. She was sure it was a barracks that had been converted to a ward. “We were going to move the battalion’s doc up here next week, but it hadn’t happened. Now, we have a surgery in here.”

  The medic led her into another room that had been fitted out as a surgery. There were two surgical tables in the center of the room, and various medical devices arrayed around them. There were surgical field machines projecting arms over both tables that would keep the operating areas free of inimical organisms.

  “We’ll triage them, and then bring them in as you’re ready,” said the Medic, nodding toward a hutch that contained gowns, gloves and instruments. “Ms. Lao here is a trained surgical nurse from Willoughby. She will be assisting you, as will a couple of my medics.”

  “Very good,” said Jennifer, getting into a gown and then pulling on some gloves. “You get them in here, and I’ll get to work.” That was all that was needed to be said. She was a surgeon, and here were patients who needed her skills, and she would work on them as long as she had the strength to stay on her feet.

  The next hours were a series of broken bodies laid before her on the tables. She closed wounds, restructured intestines, transplanted artificial organs as needed. Missing limbs were ignored for now, the patients would have regrowth buds programed and planted in the near future. Her whole focus was to save lives that might be lost, even while the nagging doubt that all of this was for nothing nested in the back of her mind. But even though she was sure the Ca’cadasans would eventually find them, and all here, wounded and whole, would be killed, she worked on. Moving from table to table, letting the medics complete the closings and transfer the patient so that a new one could be brought in.

  Jennifer felt ready to fall over from exhaustion as she worked on a young Marine who had been torn open by a particle beam. His shoulder and left arm were charred, completely dead, and she cleaned the necrotic tissue off with a laser scalpel, then sprayed the area with dual purpose nanites that would seal any open vessels, and scour the area for dead tissue and infection. “This one’s ready,” she called out to the medics so they could finish the pain blocks and healing sprays, then looked over to the other table, which was empty. She looked a question at her nurse.

  “That was the last one, Doctor,” said the woman with a tired smile.

  “You look like you could use some sleep,” said one of the medics. Jennifer nodded her head and the man led her off to a room with a bed. “Thanks, Doc. Without you we would have lost at least a dozen of those people. Now we only have to make sure the Cacas don’t get their hands on them.”

  Jennifer nodded her head at that as well, then stumbled over to the bed and fell in. She was already out when the medic pulled the sheet and blanket over her.

  * * *

  Katlyn went into labor and stayed in labor for almost twenty-four hours.

  “I don’t like the looks of this,” said Becky, running an ultrasound wand over the distended abdomen of Cornelius’s wife. She looked up a holo screen and frowned at the image. “The baby is not coming out right. He’s in a breech position.”

  “Is there anything you can do?” asked Cornelius in an anxious voice, holding onto his wife’s hand.

  “Sure,” said the woman, giving him a strained smile. “We’ll just do a Caesarian.”

  “Don’t you need a doctor for that?” asked Cornelius, eyes wide as he watched the women pull some instruments from a drawer. Katlyn moaned, and he put his free hand on her sweat covered forehead.

  “If we had one, sure,” said Becky, laying the instruments out on a cloth. “If we don’t? Well, let’s just say we’re self-sufficient around here. This won’t be the first one I’ve performed.”

  “I’m starting to get worried, Becky,” said one of the younger women. “The men aren’t back yet. They should have been back hours ago.”

  “They’re on a combat patrol,” said the older woman in a calm tone while she checked the instruments. “They’ll be back when they’re back.”

  Cornelius could tell that the woman was worried about her family members out there in the jungle, and about the operation she was soon to perform. But she was keeping it together like the self-reliant person this world had made of her.

  Becky positioned herself to the side of Katlyn and pulled the pregnant woman’s shirt up to expose her stomach. She sprayed the combination disinfectant healing spray of nanites on the distended skin, waited a few moments, then ran a laser scalpel over the flesh. There was the sound of meat searing, and a thin, bloodless line opened up across her lower abdomen, below the swelling made by the baby. Becky brought the scalpel back and forth, cutting through muscle, then into the amniotic sack. Cornelius looked anxiously at this wife’s face but saw no pain or discomfort there. The nanites were doing their job an
d blocking the pain.

  Another slice and the fluid spilled out, and Becky reached her hands into the mother and pulled the baby out. She looked him over, smiling in satisfaction, and looked over at Cornelius. “He looks perfect,” she said, then sliced through the umbilical cord and slapped the baby on the buttocks. The little boy drew in a deep breath of air and cried lustily, and everyone in the room smiled. Becky wrapped the baby up in warm cloth and handed him to the proud father, who knelt by the mother and showed her the son that had just come from her body.

  Becky went to work with a staple machine, closing up the wounds, then spraying it with nanites that would heal the opening to the point where not even a scar would remain.

  “Congratulations momma, poppa,” said Becky, cleaning the instruments and getting them ready to go back into the cabinet they came from.

  “Thank you,” said Cornelius, his mind traveling the imaginary road and seeing himself with a pregnant wife going into labor in the jungle. She would have died, the baby would have died, and I wouldn’t have wanted to live.

  “You are very welcome, poppa,” said the woman, putting away the last of the surgical instruments. “I’m really glad I found you.”

  “Mom,” yelled the voice of a young man over the sound of the front door being flung open. “Mom.” The young man, wearing camouflaged clothing, a rifle over his shoulder, came rushing into the room.

  “Kaleb,” yelled Becky, running to the Freeholder and wrapping him in an embrace. She put her hands on his arms and held him away to look him over. “What’s wrong? Where are the others? Your dad?”

  “He’s alright,” said the almost breathless young man. “Uncle Josh is dead, and so is cousin Johnny.”

  “Oh no,” said one of the other women, putting her hands to her face.

  “We got to get out of here, mom,” continued the lad, his eyes darting around the room. “The Cacas know where this place is. They’re on their way here. The rest of the men are trying to slow them down, but I think they’ll be here in less than fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh shit,” said Cornelius, looking at the baby in his hands, then at his wife, and figuring coming here might not have been the Godsend it seemed.

  * * *

  Glen McKinnon was getting tired of this jungle around him. It was slow going, even in the heavy suits. They could make much better time by going over it, or even by going low through the open areas. They could also be killed by anything from the air or space that saw them out in the open. And it wasn’t like they were uncomfortable in their suits, with their perfect environmental control. They were safe as long as they avoided the larger animals, and the Cacas.

  The problem with the Cacas was that they controlled the space and the air, and were able to move their troops anywhere they wanted. They kept moving blocking forces in the way of the Captain’s command. He didn’t know whether they found him, though he was trying to maintain signals security as much as possible. Or whether they were just random sweeps. They all forced him to change direction and creep around, and he was almost tempted to have the men leave the suits and move in their soft skins. Except that would then open them up to the possibility of animal attack.

  We didn’t have to creep around all of them, he thought with a smile, remembering the one group they had run into the other day. That group had not been a danger to anyone. They had been slaughtered by something, ripped apart by weapon blasts. And everything useful had been taken from their bodies. Had to be commandos.

  And there had been another group that day that his own people had put paid to, wandering into their midst before they knew the Cacas were there. Luckily it was before the aliens knew the humans were there either, and the heavy armor suits and the weapons they carried had put paid to the enemy. At the cost of two Marines, reducing his force even more.

  McKinnon signaled a halt and gestured for his command team to gather around him. There were no more officers, and the five NCOs were more than enough to command the reorganized squads he had left. He looked at the faces revealed by the retraction of faceplates and found himself saddened by those who were missing. Never really expected to be in a situation like this, he thought. Always thought we would have the orbitals, and the air support, and not be the ones having to hide.

  “Ramirez reports that there’s a cave ahead,” said Corporal Lavette of the second squad. “Big enough for all of us to hunker down and get some rest.”

  “We’re about a day’s travel from the sanctuary,” said McKinnon, bringing up a map on his HUD. As near as I can tell, he reminded himself. There were no more sats in orbit, at least not their birds, and all the ground based transmitters had been taken out, so there was no positioning system to rely on.

  “About two hours if we push it by air,” said Sergeant Bethany, her face sweat streaked in the jungle heat.

  “About an hour to get blown out of the air,” said Sergeant Chu, looking at Bethany and making a gesture showing what he thought of her intelligence. Bethany started to reply.

  “Shut up,” said acting Top Sergeant Hogan. “The Captain wanted to tell you what he wants you to do, not listen to your gripping.”

  The two NCOs shut their mouths and looked attentively at the Captain, only glancing in anger at each other a few times. They’re Marines, thought the Captain. They may bellyache some, but they’ll do as they’re ordered, even if it costs them their lives.

  “So we’ll spend the night in the cave,” said the Captain, looking around at the faces of his NCOs and reading the total exhaustion on them. “Then, in the morning, we’ll march the last thirty kilometers to the sanctuary.”

  All of the heads nodded, hopeful expressions on the faces of some. They all knew what marching meant. Actually walking through the jungle, not floating on grabbers, which gave a much higher energy signal than the suit servos which moved them in walking and running. And the grabbers also caused some warpage of local space, which could be read a grav waves at distance in a relatively clear environment.

  The cave turned out to be spacious enough for all of the Marines, all twenty-three of them. There was the body of some large, large being a relative term on this planet, creature who had inhabited the cave. The burn scars of particle beams showed on the body that was partially devoid of scorched fur. The Marines had wanted the shelter, and it had been the beast’s misfortune to also want it.

  The next day everyone was as rested as they had been since the start of the invasion, and the small platoon was soon wending its way through the jungle. McKinnon was wondering the whole way what was waiting for them at the end of the journey. For some it would be elation, as they found family and friends at the other end. For others it would be disappointment and heartbreak that those they cared about hadn’t made it, and probably never would. And for the families waiting it would be the end of the wait, for good or bad. And which one will it be for me? he thought, an image of beautiful Jennifer with her long red hair in his mind. She should have made it. She had an aircar, after all. Then the thought of why he and his men couldn’t fly there came out of ambush in his mind. There were no guarantees, and he wouldn’t know for sure until he got there and held her in his arms. Or didn’t.

  “We have movement up ahead, sir,” said Sergeant Hogan in a whisper, moving quietly back to the commanding officer.

  “How much?”

  “A lot,” said the Senior Sergeant, worry in his voice. “At least a hundred Caca infantry. And there are aircraft bringing them into a clearing about three klicks up the jungle.”

  “And we’re about two klicks in from the open area across from the sanctuary,” said the Captain, hissing the words like a curse.

  “I don’t think they’re here for us, sir,” said Hogan, his voice strained with anxiety. “I think they’re there for the sanctuary.”

  “And I think you’re correct, Sergeant,” said the Captain, wondering what he could do with twenty-three Marines against what could be a thousand Ca’cadasan infantry with air and space support. But he ha
d to do something, even if only to bring them to the attention of the Marines in the sanctuary. “Get the people together, except for a couple of point lookouts. And then we’ll just see what we can do with these multi-million Imperial suits the Empire gave us.”

  * * *

  “I’m sorry, sir,” said the battle armored Marine that stood at the head of the upward slanting path. “Only Marines are allowed. We picked this sanctuary for our own people, and there’s just not enough room for any more.”

  Colonel Samuel Baggett glared at the young officer, wanting to grab him with his bare hands and strangle the man. He knew that the outcome would not be to his liking, as the Marine’s suit was much more powerful than his medium armor. “Look, son,” he said, enunciating each word. “I have seven hundred tired and hungry men behind me, and a couple of thousand civilians. I need a place to stay for a while, until we can make other arrangements.” And if you believe that other arrangements part, you really are a dumb Marine.

  “I am sorry, sir,” said the Lieutenant, standing his ground. “But my Colonel has ordered that only Marines and Marine dependents are to come onto this plateau.”

  “I outrank your Colonel,” said Baggett, raising his visor and bringing his face close to the Marine officer’s, who also had his visor raised. “And I am the overall commander of this district, so your Colonel is under me in the chain of command. And I am ordering you to allow me and mine up here.”

  “I can’t do it, sir,” said the now white faced officer. “The Colonel says we only answer to Fleet at this point. The Colonel..”

  “I have the force to sweep you boys clean off this plateau,” growled Baggett, linking into his Sergeant Major’s com and ordering a few troop deployments for emphasis.

  “We have better equipment,” said the Marine, squaring his shoulders.

  “And I have many more troops,” yelled Baggett, getting tired of the game. “Now you let me through to talk to your Colonel, or by God you won’t be around long enough to regret it.”