by G J Ogden
“I’m trying to find out what it’s doing all the way up here,” said Page, “so I’m downloading its data stream.”
Kurren grunted again; he too was curious, but at the same time concerned about what the probe might have been monitoring. Page’s ingenuity had proven to be valuable so far, but his curiosity and inability to simply stick to the mission parameters concerned him.
Page waited for the download to complete and then ordered the sentry to destroy the probe, which it did in the same manner as the first sentry, with two sharp energy bursts. The probe exploded and fell to the ground in a fiery spiral.
“Return and synchronize,” said Page, before closing down the holo feed and disabling the augmented view from his helmet, which he then removed and placed back on the table in front of him. Page’s PVSM bleeped again, though from the pattern and pitch of the alarm, Page knew instantly what it related to; it was a toxicity alert.
“What now, Major?” said Kurren, noticing that Page appeared to be distracted.
“It’s another toxicity alert, sir,” said Page, reviewing the indicator, which had crept up and was now holding at around thirty percent into the amber zone. “I’ll relay new dosing orders to the men.”
The background toxicity level was manageable, but it did require an adjustment to the strength and frequency of the meds that were automatically delivered by the injector systems built into their armor. He adjusted his personal settings, applying an additional booster just to be safe, and relayed the new settings to all the other soldiers, with orders to initiate the updated protocol immediately. He heard the order register on Kurren’s PVSM – a short-two tone whistle, signifying an incoming command – but Kurren ignored it. Page was reluctant to question the General again, given his previous terse responses to Page’s concerned queries, but at the back of his mind was the worry that Kurren’s relative exposure levels could already be dangerously high. His thoughts were interrupted by another notification from his PVSM, confirming that the data sync from the second sentry had completed.
“We have the data from the probe now, sir,” said Page, and he re-activated the holo on the desk, raised his forearm horizontally in front of him and said, “Condense and summarize.”
They both watched the holo emitter project a visual feed from the GPS recon probe, using AI analysis to intelligently cut out any periods of time where nothing noteworthy had occurred. The probe had evidently started recording shortly after the space station fragment had impacted the city, and it had recorded the devastation of the immediate aftermath. The sheer scale of the damage was shocking and Page could feel his pulse quickening, but when he glanced over at Kurren, the General remained blankly impassive as the scenes unfolded.
The feed fast-forwarded and then resumed many hours later, with the probe monitoring the city from the high, static position that their own sentry had found it in earlier. Page looked at the probe’s command list and the data stream, and quickly understood what its purpose had been; it was monitoring a mass exodus from the city. At the point at which Page had destroyed the probe, it had counted 2,374 life signs within a limited radius of 50km from the central region of the city. Page swallowed hard; he knew from the Planetsider mission report that the toxicity levels within the city were too high even for the native population to withstand, which meant that whatever was leaving the city was unlikely to still be recognizably human. The feed fast-forwarded again, this time to a bird’s-eye view, showing the outward expansion of the dust cloud from the impact site and how it was almost driving the exodus, like a wave washing garbage up on shore.
The data then switched from the sensor feed and recreated a two-dimensional outline of a man and a woman standing next to each other, both with locations marked on them in red. Above these two outlines were the words, ‘Invasive bioscan analysis’ alongside a string of data, which included heart rate, oxygen saturation, bacterial and viral infection analysis and the list went on. To obtain results from an invasive scan would have required a nanoscopic medical probe to be physically injected into test subjects. Page wondered what they were looking for, and studied the readout even more intently. Then he noticed something significant; something that triggered a memory from his early days as a cadet, during basic training, when they had first been informed about the potential consequences of exposure to orrum radiation. The reading that had caught Page’s attention was labeled G-DARP, or Genetic Deformation resulting from Acute Radiation Poisoning. Page had never understood the technical jargon, but the premise was simple enough; G-DARP was the scale that measured the level of damage to a person’s DNA, specifically as a result of orrum radiation poisoning. In essence, this reading was a measure of how badly mutated your DNA had become, and in the worst cases, whether you were on an unalterable, incurable path to becoming genetically deformed – or, as the planetsiders called it, maddened. This was why it was necessary to continually check their blood toxicity levels and ensure the level of anti-toxicity meds was sufficient to prevent G-DARP from occurring. The tricky part was that there was no fixed exposure level at which G-DARP would occur; some were far more susceptible to the radiation than others. For some, it could take months for the effects to become apparent, whereas for others, if the exposure was high enough, the early stages could manifest in a matter of hours. However, even with diligent attention to the toxicity levels and medication, G-DARP was inevitable after prolonged exposure, unless you happened to have been born planetside and therefore possessed a natural genetic resilience. Page recalled the training holos that depicted UEC civilians who had been exposed to critical levels on the base, after a GPS attack that had damaged the shielding around a residential zone twenty years previously. He had been struck with a mix of fear and revulsion as he saw the effects of the genetic mutations, and how they had eventually twisted these people into something abhorrent. Now he had seen it first-hand, and it struck terror into the very core of his being to understand that the longer he remained on the planet, the higher his own risk of G-DARP became.
The feed from the probe then focused specifically on the G-DARP levels of a cross-section of the life signs that were being driven out of the city. Page studied the numbers and his eyes grew large. He chanced a look at Kurren, and for the first time since their meeting in his office on the moon base, Page observed an emotional reaction from the General; it was the same as his own reaction – fear. If the probe’s data was correct, the G-DARP levels of the figures rushing away from the city were more than five times higher than the worst cases ever recorded in men and women on the moon base. Page knew that whatever these things now were, they were no longer men or women. He had faced the threat that a small number of these creatures could pose, even against their own heavily-armed and armored soldiers, and there were thousands running ahead of the toxic cloud, spreading out in all directions from the city. If these things reached the survivors before they did, there would be no-one left to rescue.
Page deactivated the holo and stood, numb. For a time there was silence, and then Kurren spoke, his tone level and once again devoid of emotion or feeling.
“Re-organize the squads and team them into pairs,” said Kurren. “No squad moves alone. Outside of this structure, no squad is to leave the transports while inside the perimeter of the dust cloud, unless ordered by me. Weapons are to be kept loaded at all times. See to it.”
“Yes, General,” said Page.
“And one more thing, Major,” added Kurren. “You are not to inform the men of what is out there, are we clear? That is a direct order.”
Page turned to the General and straightened to attention. He looked into Kurren’s unswerving, dark eyes. His instinct was to question the order; to argue that the men must know what they were facing, but his question remained unspoken. Kurren had reprimanded him several times already, and he didn’t want to push his luck further. He could not help his men, or get everyone off the planet to safety, if he was relieved of his command.
“Understood, sir,” he said, cris
ply.
Kurren stared back at Page for what felt like hours and then grunted an acknowledgment and left. Page watched him walk away, and when he had finally disappeared from view, back down the corridor leading to hangar pod seven, he cursed and hammered his fists on the table so violently that his helmet was shaken to the deck.
Chapter 18
It had taken three round trips to transfer the survivors from the camp at the edge of the forest to their new base at the foot of ‘Bloody Mountain’, as the hermit had called it. Maria had ordered Lieutenant Aster to hide the transports in dense woodland, away from where the hermit had indicated the tunnel to be located. The thick, overlapping tree canopies shielded the transport from prying probes, and with their power systems temporarily disconnected, there was no EM signature to detect. Someone, or something, would have to physically bump into the transports in order for them to be discovered.
The twelve space ships were a different matter. Most were so badly damaged from the passage through the atmosphere that they could never fly again, and the one or two that might be able to lift off would perhaps only be able to travel a short distance in atmosphere, and even then there was a strong chance the fatigued engines would fail and the weakened hulls would buckle. Besides, they had burned almost all their fuel. The best they could do was shut everything down and camouflage them as best they could, so they were just dead hunks of metal in the middle of nowhere. Even if the UEC did locate the ships, they would offer them no clues as to where the survivors had gone.
In order to keep everyone busy and their minds occupied, Aster had set the survivors to work, gathering foliage and branches with which to further camouflage the transports and their makeshift camp. This was more than simply an exercise to distract the three-hundred-plus frightened souls from thinking about the horrors of the ordeal they had experienced, it was also a necessary safeguard. During the second return leg, Aster’s PVSM had alerted them to the destruction of the probes that had been monitoring the city, which meant that when Kurren came looking for them they would have no forewarning.
Their combined efforts had paid off, however, because the camp was now almost seamlessly blended into the landscape. Despite these precautions, Maria knew that time was still not on their side. They had already gone through over sixty percent of the emergency ration packs, and they were getting dangerously low on anti-radiation meds. Perversely, it helped that most of the survivors were children, as the lower dosage they required meant that the supplies could be spread more thinly, but Maria still did not want to risk skimping. Random blood toxicity checks had been taken on a cross-section of the survivors and had all come back within safe limits, but Maria knew that if they did not find shelter soon, the risk of exposure would become high, and the consequences of that were simply too horrific to consider. She would have saved these children, only to condemn them to a painful death, or worse, a half-life as something inhuman.
“We should get going,” said Ethan, looking up at the thin strips of light that penetrated the tree canopy. “We probably only have a few more hours of light today. It might be better to wait until morning, when there will be less risk of roamers.”
“Normally, I’d agree,” Maria replied, packing provisions into a compact backpack, “but these people are running out of time. We have to risk it.”
Ethan slung his own backpack over his shoulders, and hopped on the spot to help settle it comfortably on his back. “In that case, I hope you still have those fancy weapons of yours; we might need them.”
Maria instinctively reached to her hip and felt the cold metal of her sidearm. “I’m afraid I only have this one clip. Besides, the old hermit said there weren’t any of those things here.”
Ethan helped Maria into her backpack, attentively checking and adjusting the straps. Then he looked her in the eyes. “You do realize that old man is crazy?” he said. “For all we know, this tunnel could lead straight into Roamer City.”
“And you choose now to tell me that?” said Maria, scowling.
A bright red ball the size of an apple bounced off Ethan’s foot. He knelt down and picked it up. It was soft, but also dense and made of a material that Ethan had never seen before.
“Sorry,” said a little voice.
Ethan looked up and saw a boy, probably aged around eight or nine, standing a few meters away, looking down and kicking his shoes in the dirt. Ethan walked over to him. “Nothing to be sorry about,” he said, squeezing the strange ball between his forefinger and thumb. “What is this, anyway?”
“It’s just a bounce ball,” said the boy, as if the answer should have been obvious. “Some of the others boys and girls were sad, so I was showing them how to play, when it bounced over here. I had the ball in my pocket when…” and then his voice trailed off and his eyes fell to the ground.
“Bounce ball, huh?” said Ethan, crouching down to bring himself more level with the boy. “We use a catching game to help train our rangers, and improve their speed and agility. Our balls are small cloth sacks filled with sand, though; nothing like your bouncy red friend there.”
The boy looked up at him and frowned. “What are rangers?”
“Oh, well we protect the settlements and help to make sure everyone stays safe,” said Ethan, smiling.
The boy suddenly looked excited. “Are you a ranger?”
Ethan nodded, and then held out his hand. The boy cautiously reached out and took it, not really knowing why, and Ethan shook it with comical vigor. “Yes, I am. Ranger Ethan, pleased to meet you!”
The boy grinned broadly as his body shook all over. “I’m Josh,” he said, and then he looked sad again. “I’m on my own. There’s no-one to take care of us now. They say everyone else is… dead.”
The sudden surge of emotions took Ethan by surprise and he fought hard to hold back tears. He knew that the majority of the survivors were children, but until now he’d not actually seen them, and meeting Josh had hammered home just how desperately sad their plight was. He slipped the bounce ball into his pocket, took a few deep breaths to compose himself and then tapped the boy gently on the shoulder with a clenched fist. “Hey, you’re a planetsider now, Josh,” he said confidently. “That means you’re one of us, and that means you’re never alone, do you understand?”
The boy nodded, but then looked down at his scuffed and muddied shoes, and Ethan could see a tear rolling down his cheek. Ethan thought for a moment and then removed the ranger seal pendent from around his neck; he coiled up the twine neatly and held it out to Josh. “Here, take this.” The boy looked up and Ethan pressed the cool metal disc into his hand. “Go on, take it.”
Josh wiped the wetness from his face with the sleeve of his shirt and took the ranger seal. He looked at it intently, running his fingers over the engraving in the smooth surface. “What is it?”
“That is my ranger seal,” said Ethan, proudly. “They are awarded only to those who are strong, brave and true of heart. It’s a symbol of everything we are as rangers, and of our commitment to preserving life.”
The boy smiled as Ethan told him this, and continued to stroke the metal. “But… I’m not a ranger.”
“I disagree,” said Ethan, also smiling. “You’re clearly very brave. I know grown men and women who would shake like tree branches at the mere thought of being so far outside the walls of a settlement.” Ethan gently shook Josh as he said this, and the boy smiled and giggled again.
“And I can see you’re strong,” Ethan continued. “Strength isn’t just about your muscles; it’s also about being tough, in here.” Ethan pointed to his head. “You’ve been through so much already, so I know you’re tough.”
“What does, ‘true of heart’ mean?” said Josh, eager to see if he met all three of Ethan’s criteria.
“Ah…” said Ethan, with the sort of knowing tone that wise people often use. “Well, for me to answer that, you first have to answer a question from me. Are you ready?”
Josh nodded eagerly.
“Wh
y were you showing the sad children how to play your bounce ball game?” said Ethan.
The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. They were sad and I didn’t like it. I thought it would make them a bit more, you know, happy.”
Ethan threw his arms our wide. “And there you have it!” he said triumphantly. “A ranger is committed to helping others. This can be as simple as sharing a game to make someone feel less sad. What could be more true of heart?”
Ethan stood up, and then held out his hand, inviting Josh to return the ranger seal, which he did, with a confused look. Ethan unfurled the twine, and tied a knot to shorten the length so that it was a suitable fit for a small boy.
“What’s your full name, Josh?”
“Joshua Neviah.”
Ethan smiled and felt his heart lift. “Neviah, you say?”
The boy just nodded, and Ethan’s smile grew wider. He leaned over and placed the metal pendant over the boy’s head, tucking the twine under his shirt collar. Josh looked up at him with a mix of bewilderment and excitement. As Ethan did this, he spoke the words, “I promise to protect the few so that we again can be many. Though the world fell, we will not.”
“What was that?” said Josh, breathlessly.
“It’s the ranger’s oath. Say it with me.”
Ethan repeated the oath in stages, and Josh mirrored his words. When they had both finished, Josh looked up at Ethan and his face shone like morning sunlight.
“You’re a ranger now,” said Ethan. “Just like me.”
“What do I do?” said Josh, eager to start his duties.
Ethan smiled again, removed the small red ball from his pocket, and held it out to Josh. “You just keep doing what you do best, Josh.”
Josh took the ball and squeezed it in his hand. “I understand, Ranger Ethan,” he said. He beamed another smile at him and ran off back to the others, the metal ranger seal flapping up and down on his shirt as he went.
