The End of Liberty (War Eternal Book 2)

by M. R. Forbes

  If there was anything left to care.

  They had found bodies. A lot of bodies. Civilians, soldiers, and what looked like a cross between. People in ill-fitting fatigues or half-uniforms mingled with women in skirts and Alliance military in light exo, their blood combining and staining parts of the street. Curiously, some of them had bald spots and cuts on their heads, suggesting that something had gone in and disabled their neural implants. It meant that there was someone nearby who had at least a partial understanding of what was happening.

  Was that someone Christine?

  Mitchell couldn't help but wonder. Who else would have known about the Tetron and what they were doing?

  "Anyway, it turned out the city had been through a bunch of local wars, and they were kind of sick of the whole thing. Their city was like this one, burned out and broken, so they were afraid. Most of them sat up in the higher floors and watched us the entire time. Most of them watched any strangers who passed through, trying not to get involved with the people who didn't hide, you know? Turns out, the whole thing about whores was a bunch of frigging bull. You could get some there, sure. If you had money and wanted a bald one. Kids, you know? They were selling their kids because when they didn't, the soldiers came and raped them anyway. At least that way they got some money for it. Something they needed."

  Cormac paused when they reached the body of a soldier. He rolled it over with his foot and grabbed the sidearm he found beneath. Most of the dead soldiers were already picked clean of weapons and ammo. Someone had taken it all. Where were they?

  In the upper floors of the tall buildings, maybe?

  "I wonder if Watson knows the name of that planet."

  "Firedog. Cut the chatter," Mitchell said.

  "Aye. Sorry, sir." He checked the pistol's magazine and shoved it into his pants.

  "Shank, nothing?"

  "Negative, Colonel. I'm checking the upper floors. There's nobody home."

  "Someone has to be here," Zed said. "The fighting only stopped a few hours ago."

  They continued the march in silence, crossing another three blocks before coming across the remains of a car with a heavy gun rigged to it. Bullet-riddled bodies lay across the back seat, along with hundreds of shell casings.

  "Now that is impressive," Cormac said, walking over to it. "Resourceful bastards."

  "It looks like they caught the soldiers off-guard," Shank said, pushing his foot against one of the corpses. "This one got shot in the back. So did his buddy there."

  "How did they get into the city without the Tetron noticing?" Perseus said.

  Mitchell scanned the buildings. Probably the same way they were watching them without being seen. These weren't civilians. Or at least whoever was leading them was no civilian. He closed his eyes.

  "Christine," he whispered. Origin said she would come to him if he were near. Did she know he was there? Was she on her way?

  "Sir," Shank said, pulling him out of his head.

  His eyes snapped open. He saw the same thing Shank had seen. The tallest building in the city belonged to Bennett Corp, an agri-factory conglomerate that had financed much of Liberty's terraforming. It was nearly two kilometers tall, a fluid construction of curving alloy and carbonate. Some of that carbonate was broken and cracked, and it looked as though the middle had been struck by a few missiles, but it was in pretty good shape compared to the landscape around it.

  It was also lit up.

  Shank pointed at it. "It just went on. Somebody's got to be home."

  "Are they out of their frigging minds?" Cormac said. "They're begging the alien to drop a nuke on them."

  "There are no ground nukes on Liberty," Mitchell said. "Besides, it doesn't seem like the Tetron cares about this place anymore. I don't think it thinks whoever took the city is worth the effort."

  "You don't think it'll be pissed about that? It looks like a big middle finger." Cormac started laughing at the thought.

  "It's a machine. It doesn't get angry."

  "You know that for a fact, sir?"

  Mitchell was silent. He didn't know that for a fact. He barely knew anything about their enemy. It was the biggest reason they were here.

  "Shut up, Firedog," Zed said.

  "That's my line," Shank said.

  They continued up the street, redirecting down a secondary avenue to head towards the Bennett Building.

  They were two blocks away when the city finally came to life.

  Dozens. No. Hundreds of men and women poured out from the alleys, quickly surrounding the group. More people appeared behind cracked windows, shoving the muzzles of rifles out of open spaces and taking aim on the Riggers.

  Mitchell shifted the mech's head, staring in at the eye-level panes of clear carbonate. His vision crossed over two men and a woman. The men looked like civilians. The woman was wearing fatigues. Her head was cleanly shaven, and she had a line running down towards the back of her ear. He moved his gaze to the patch on her uniform. The gold diamond was familiar.

  She was from the same platoon as the dead soldiers in the street.

  "Hold," Mitchell said. "Drop your weapons."

  "Sir?" Shank said.

  "Shank, do it. These people are on our side."

  He lowered the mech's hands, pointing the railgun at the ground while Cormac and Shank dropped their rifles. The people around them continued to stare, not yet sure what to make of the newcomers. There was motion at the front of the gathering, and an older man with a face covered in white stubble moved through the throng, coming forward on his own, committing himself as their spokesman.

  "You're late," he shouted, loud enough that Mitchell could pick up the words through external mics. He zoomed the mech's optics in on the speaker and smiled when he recognized him.

  "I'm going out," he said, leaning forward to pull the implant from his head and free himself from the machine.

  The back of the mech slid up, and Mitchell stepped out onto the ridge of the torso. A mix of soldiers and civilians looked up at him, their rifles following their eyes. They were tired and frightened, their clothes ragged, their faces sweaty and stained with dirt and smoke and grime. There was a short, tense pause while they took in the sight of him.

  A single, anonymous voice broke the silence.

  "Is that Captain Williams?"

  The statement brought the life back to the assembled group, and they began to chatter to one another.

  "Mmmhmm... What's this now?"

  Mitchell reached the ground and made his way around the mech towards the front of the group while the comments spread.

  "Dr. Drummond," he said, reaching the older man.

  "Damn my eyes." The man's weary eyes brightened. "Captain Mitchell Williams. You're the last person I ever expected to see come moseying up the street anywhere on Liberty."

  "I found the Goliath. I came to free the planet."

  "Goliath? Oh. Mmmhmm. I remember you saying something about Goliath last time I saw you. I remember you were acting weird. I should thank you, son. It's the reason I'm one of them." He waved his arm at the people around him. "Instead of one of them." He motioned towards York.

  "I don't understand?"

  "Come with me, Captain. I want you to see somebody. You and your crew." He glanced over at them. "You look like you haven't had an easy time getting here. Our spotters saw the dropship come over. They saw you drop. Hell, they saw the ship up there in the sky. Goliath, you say? Big son of a bitch, ain't she? I have to admit, I thought you were crazy, even though I didn't tell you that. Maybe I was afraid you weren't."

  "I'm afraid I wasn't," Mitchell said. "You didn't happen to see Major Arapo before the alien came?"

  He laughed. "You got a thing for her? After all that praying mantis, too old for me talk?"

  "She was my CO. I was wondering if she made it out with you."

  He shook his head. "Last I heard, she was being held on the base. Then that thing appeared on the sensors. Command sent ships out to investigate. First they
stopped responding, then they moved into formation ahead of it. Second I heard, I remembered what you were going on about with your ARR." He turned his head to show him the scar. "I jammed a scalpel in and cut the cord, so to speak. I managed to get a couple other guys done before all the others started moving into formation like a whole mess of robots. We hid for a while until they started the killing. Then we ran."

  "But you never saw Major Arapo?"

  "Son, I was too busy running for my life. She was locked up tight though. Odds are, they got her too."

  Mitchell nodded though he didn't believe it. Wishful thinking? Denial? He knew what Christine was capable of. Probably better than she did. She had gotten out of it, somehow.

  "The big one over there is Colonel Shank. The pale one is Private Cormac Shen, also known as Firedog. We've got Zed and Perseus in the other two mechs."

  "Where's the rest of the Alliance strike force?" Drummond asked.

  "I hate to tell you this, Doctor. We're it."

  32

  "You're it?" Drummond said. "When I saw you drop, I thought maybe you were a vanguard. You're telling me there aren't any more Alliance ships coming?"

  "For all I know, there aren't any more Alliance ships. That thing that landed on the planet? It didn't come alone. Everything from here back to the Rim is either destroyed or under their control, and they're pushing forward as we speak."

  "Mmmhmm. Shit on a stick. Tio needs to know about this."

  "Tio?"

  "The man I want you to meet. It's a long story, and better if he tells it."

  "Hold on a second, Doctor. You don't seem very concerned about a counterattack? Private Shen said that thing looks like a big, bright 'frig you,' and I tend to agree."

  Drummond laughed. "Me too. It was Tio's idea. It wasn't part of the original plan, but after what happened last night?"

  "What did happen last night?"

  "I'll let Tio tell you. If your people are tired, hungry, they'll be safe here, for now anyway. You can park the mechs in a nearby alley."

  "How can you be so sure we're safe? I had almost an entire platoon of grunts when we dropped from Goliath, and now I've got two. Getting here hasn't been easy."

  "No, it hasn't. Not for any of us. Mmmhmm. We've been running for weeks, Captain. Hiding while they hunted us down. I've seen more people dead since that frigging thing landed than I've seen my whole life, and I'm an old military doctor. We've got spotters up on the rooftops. Tio said, 'light it up and see if they come.'" His eyes flickered while he checked the time. "It's been an hour, and nothing's coming."

  "Be glad for that, Doctor, but whatever is happening, don't expect it to last forever. It isn't just our people we have to worry about. We came up from the south. It's using the heavy equipment factories to build its own machines to join the war effort. Like I said, I lost almost my entire contingent of foot soldiers."

  "Mmmhmm. You really have to talk to Tio. Get your mech moved, and I'll bring you to him."

  Mitchell turned around and headed back to the mech, glancing over at Shank on the way by.

  "What's the plan, Colonel?" Shank asked through his p-rat.

  "I don't have one yet. Something's going on, and we need to find out what. I think I liked it better when the enemy was resorting to brute force."

  "Riiigg-ahh."

  "Perseus, you're on first watch."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Zed, find a nice tight alley to park your mech, keep it close and easy to run to. Firedog, Shank, stay with Doctor Drummond. I'm going to stash my ride and join you."

  "Yes, sir."

  Mitchell climbed the back of the mech, hopping onto the torso and regaining the cockpit. He could still hear the chatter on his way by, the people watching his every move. Did they think he was a criminal, a savior, or both? Did any of that matter anymore, as long as his guns were trained on the other side?

  Dr. Drummond moved the crowd away, back towards the lit building. Mitchell steered his mech closer to it, and then turned left.

  "Zed, take the right side. That space between buildings there. You may have to go in sideways, but the smaller profile will help if we get bombarded."

  "It won't help if I need to get out in a hurry."

  "No, but if the enemy does decide to attack, we need to get these people somewhere safe."

  "Roger."

  Mitchell judged the alley, and then turned the mech to the side and shuffled into the space. Once he had gotten the machine placed he paused and stared at the blank expanse of the facade in front of him. The Tetron wouldn't do anything without good reason. Without calculation. If it had lost interest in fighting the rebels, and in fighting him, there was a purpose to it.

  What?

  He didn't know. Drummond seemed to think Tio would, whoever he was.

  Mitchell laughed to himself. What if Tio was another M. Another him? No. Drummond wouldn't have been so calm if that were the case. What if Tio was a Tetron? Was there any way to know? When a machine could create a person, configure cells and tissues and DNA into whatever manner of flesh and bone it wanted, was there any verifiable difference between what came from the factory, and what came from the womb?

  And even if they destroyed every last Tetron with its liquid metal dendrite structure and central core, how could they ever know for sure that one hadn't survived, somewhere. Even if it didn't know what it was?

  Mitchell sighed, the newest idea churning through his mind with the same chaotic force as the others. If a Tetron existed in human form but didn't know it was a Tetron, did that make it human? Christine didn't know what she was. Not on the surface. But she had rules embedded in her mind. Directives. Priorities. Motivations she didn't understand and followed subconsciously. She had seemed every bit as human as he was before he knew the truth.

  After? He still thought of her as Major Christine Arapo, despite knowing what she was. He still remembered the way she had chewed him out on more than one occasion. He still remembered the feel of her lips on his.

  He shook his head, releasing himself from the mech's cockpit, powering the machine down, opening the hatch and climbing out. When he reached the ground, he walked out from the alley, turned, and looked up at the mech. It was scarred and dented from battle, the painted face burned in half from the drones' lasers.

  That was what machines were supposed to look like.

  33

  He rejoined Shank, Cormac, and Zed in the square in front of the Bennett Building. It had been a small shopping center once, three sides of boutiques traced with glistening sidewalks, a lawn breaking up the stone leading to the building, and a fountain resting in the center of the lawn.

  Now, its original design was barely recognizable. The grass on the lawn was gone, replaced with churned up mud and garbage. The boutiques were torn apart by gunfire, the sidewalk marked with tire tracks, bullet marks, and blood.

  They had cleared the bodies. The scars remained.

  The assembly of rebels had dissipated, the fighters vanishing back into the surrounding buildings to await their next set of orders. Drummond kept only a few people with him, three men and two women, all former soldiers, each with a cut over their ears. They cradled rifles against their bodies, tired and at the same time alert. They stood with the Riggers in silence, sharing the moment without needing words. They were all soldiers at war.

  "I sent someone ahead to tell Tio I was bringing you in," Drummond said, smiling. "It's a bit primitive, I know."

  "Our implants were re-encrypted," Mitchell said. "It isn't that helpful here. The enemy is doing their best to keep our communications down."

  "Standard wartime procedure," the woman behind Drummond said. She was dark-skinned, lean, and tall, with sharp green eyes and a pretty face.

  "Sergeant Geren," Drummond said, introducing her.

  Mitchell bowed to her. He recognized her from the base in York. They'd never interacted, but her looks made her hard to forget. "Sergeant. You've already met my squad?"

  "We have,"
she said. "These are Corporals Riley, Adams, Salil, and Cabot."

  They all bowed to him.

  "Geren and her squad got me out of York alive," Drummond said.

  "After you fixed our heads, Doctor, " Geren said. "Captain, the news reports. They said you were a fraud."

  She had said what the group had likely been thinking.

  "You know it's bullshit, don't you? I'm here, aren't I?"

  She smiled. "In the belly of the beast. Yes, sir."

  "Do you think it's a good idea to be hanging out in this building?" Cormac asked. "I mean, there are lots of other buildings in the city, and this one? I don't know. I know you said the aliens don't give a shit about us anymore, but what if they change their minds?"

  "Don't worry, Private," Geren said. "We aren't going into the building."

  "We're going under it," Salil said. He was short and broad, with a growth of facial hair laying over an obviously scarred face. The way his eyes moved, it was clear they were bio-mechanical replacements to the originals, similar to Millie's hand.

  "Mmmhmm. There's a whole network of tunnels for the underground utilities. Power, water, waste. We're using them to travel the places we don't want it to see us go, and we're staying overground for the rest."

  "You're assuming it's watching the city?" Mitchell asked.

  "We're hoping it is. That's why we keep coming in and out this way. There's a main treatment plant under Bennett that has access points to the rest of the system. It isn't the only one, of course."

  "The other benefit is that it means if they want to come and get us, they need to send flesh and blood. Drones and mechs won't fit. It gives us a huge advantage."

  "Not if they blow out the whole thing," Shank said.

  "No," Geren said. "Liberty didn't have a huge military presence to begin with. There isn't enough heavy weaponry here to get down that deep."

  "They don't need to send people," Mitchell said, one piece of the Tetron's strategy beginning to make sense. "It's building machines, kind of like a cross between an octopus and a spider. They tore my men to pieces, and they'll fit anywhere a person can go. Including subterranean access tunnels."