“Ready for this, Midshipman?” Sebastien asked.
William looked down to the augment and nodded. “Planets just don’t liberate themselves, now do they?”
Sebastien snorted and leaned his head back as the truck continued south.
CHAPTER TEN
Hostage
The agricultural landscape was verdant fields, lush crops, and crude farmhouses. The only thing as common as rows of crops was rows of graveyards. It seemed that the colonization had not been as easy as had been hoped. Such was a universal truth.
The fields were plump with harvest, ripe, and in some cases going to seed. Faces worn with the endless task of toil watched in silence as they rolled past. What had been one generation’s escape was another's binding.
Night began to drop. The truck bounced across the patchwork horizon of fields before finally coming into view of the capital. What had once been pristine was now coated in grime and grit. The smelters and stamp mills gave the horizon a dim glow.
They stopped the truck. The crew piled out of the still bouncing bed. The smell of fruit tickled their noses as they stood and stared below. It was not as they had pictured.
The very upper reaches of the elevator stretched skyward like a golden thread. The light rose at a steady pace, hiding the thread as the night came on. A giant rectangular building was perched on an empty rise with hills of slag and debris surrounding it. A comm tower poked skywards with scaffolding about the edge.
All around stretched vertical towers with weights dropping below. Near to those was a hellish sputtering as the arc furnaces torched the darkness. Nothing could separate the ores of ill repute quite like the pure white burn of a carbon rod.
The center of the city was dim. The buildings seemed to cower in the shadows of the brutish constructions nearby. A crisp smoke blew in that smelled of burnt wire and pickled steel.
“It wasn’t always like this,” David said. He raised his hands to point at the city but caught himself and stopped. His face was rimed with sadness.
“What’s on the roof of the big building?” Tero asked in the twangy accent of Mars.
“Dat is drone pods,” Von Hess said. He leaned against the truck and favored his good leg.
William scoured the plains below for entry points. Cover everywhere. They could get in and close through the slag piles. “Can we shut them down inside?”
“Yeah, if you can get to the control station.”
“And if we can’t?” Crow asked.
Von Hess shrugged. “Get to the roof then, yes? Drop the comm tower.”
Sebastien pointed to the base of the elevator. A handful of orange sodium lights winked in the thermals. “Looks pretty quiet.”
“Why would anyone go there? We don’t have a ship at the top,” David said.
Sebastien rose his eyes. “Hmm, I bet they do.”
William turned to David. “Where is your son?”
“I can find him, but it may take me some time.”
“We don’t have time,” Sebastien said.
William nodded. “Not much at least.” He pointed to the comm tower on the peak of the refinery. “Xan, can we use that comm array?”
“Maybe, if there’s anything worth talking to.”
Sebastien smiled a warm smile and looked up to the sky.
“We’re going to cut the flank, come in on the side away from the refinery. If they send troops north now, they’ll come right by us here,” Crow said.
“Why not smoke ‘em here?” Avi pointed at the cover.
“Go pick fruit,” Crow ordered. “And think about that.”
“Call me stupid, and I’ll pick fruit too, but why is it a bad idea?” Vito asked.
Crow pointed to the surroundings. “They come in, we engage, they turn and get back into the refinery mess. Now they can use the cover and we can’t get to the objective. If there were a dozen units assaulting the capital, it’d be an option, but we’ve got one chance. Need to make it stick.”
“I see, I’ll help Avi,” Vito added softly as he walked into the orchard.
William kept his mouth shut and listened. This wasn’t the right place to ask questions but he knew enough to listen and learn. It looked formidable, dirty, rough, but how did that compare to the pristine death in the snow? He kicked the dirt and marveled at a warm breeze. He could just lay on his back and be completely content.
* * *
The truck turned a hard right and flanked the edge of the city. An occasional apple core bounced off the road behind them. Avi had done an exceptional job picking while Vito carried the bounty. The apples were an amazing thing to marvel over and savor.
The truck slowly descended the bowl and entered the slums. Rock hovels were roofed with ragged sheets of slate. Survival was the design, meager was the supplier. The truck pulled behind a low group.
“We do shifts of two. Go down the line, everyone stays in the truck,” Crow yelled from the cab.
“David,” William called in the dim light. “How long ‘til you find your boy?”
“Eh? Well, I’ll know in the morning, it all looks so different here.”
William sighed and nodded. Just what he needed, they had to wait another night.
Judging from the light on the horizon they were still about twenty kilometers out of the main city. The slums and stamp mills grew on the perimeter. An occasional arc popped from the shabby lines of an electrical conductor. The lines drooped lazily off of concrete poles.
The temperature dropped quickly as the dampness rose around them. William curled himself up with a filthy sleeping bag. He wondered as he fell asleep if he would ever sleep in a real bed.
William awoke to a hissing sound and a rough hand shaking his shoulder. He sat up and reached for the sidearm tucked into his jacket. He blinked and saw the men around him sliding off the rear of the truck and dropping down onto the ground.
A white searchlight beamed through the hovels and grew steadily closer.
“Shit,” William said.
“Follow me,” Avi said as he grabbed William by the elbow.
The orange industrial light, even at twenty kilometers, still gave a slight sickly glow. William could make out the walls, the general contours, but couldn’t see individual men. The light blinked behind a stamp mill and reappeared on the opposite side.
Avi sighed. “I’d kill someone to get a comms.”
William agreed. Everyone had nanites implanted that would work off of a local comm network. Unfortunately without the proper hardware they simply sat idle. During the day it was easy enough, but now things would become a bit more difficult.
The harsh white beam reappeared and swung back and forth lazily. The back reflection illuminated a small flat bed truck. A single wide headlight provided dim illumination for the driver. The light hadn’t yet found them, but it was heading on the road they sat near.
“Avi! Can you see anyone?” William whispered. He lacked the nano-augmented night vision that the ground troops had.
“Shh, when they come in they’ll be caught in a crossfire. Just wait!” Avi said. He slid the barrel of his weapon onto a pile of rubble and waited.
William watched and dropped the pistol nose lower. The truck was still a hundred meters off. It was going to pass close enough to toss a rock at. He looked at the hovels around him, it wouldn’t take but a single burst to wake up the inhabitants. Then they’d really have a mess.
He shivered slightly. The adrenaline was beginning to flow. The back of his mouth tingled as he squeezed the pistol. The aim was odd, it just didn’t feel the same as aiming a rifle.
How perfect can a firefight be? William knew that ideally they would drop everyone in a single volley, not a single return shot. He didn’t even know if anyone would shoot. Would they wait ‘til sighted or take the initiative?
Avi crunched the rubble as he adjusted his weapon. The truck prowled from view behind a low line of stamped sand. Above them only the brightest stars poked through the thick air.
The slight whine of the electric motor was only broken by the creeping crunch and popping pong of the suspension. The truck must have shared the same designer as the cattle truck that the survivors rode in.
A single muzzle blast exploded from the other side of the road. The rapid burp of the rounds impacting the truck was followed by that terrible symphony erupting all around. The flash at the end of each barrel was a hint of orange surrounded by a blue plasma layer. The beauty was evident if one had the ability to admire it in a firefight.
At the first shot William pointed the pistol and pulled the trigger. The weapon leapt in his grasp like an angry animal.
The shots went wild, his night vision was gone. He’d been watching the truck approach.
He cursed his stupidity. The first barrage that went out had popped the headlight and searchlight. The enemy would be as night blind as he was. He leveled the pistol once more and prepared to fire at the first muzzle blast he saw.
A voice cried out in pain. The hovels were awakening with voices calling into the darkness. A horrible wailing began as if an animal was wounded.
William turned his head and tried to pinpoint the sound. His night vision was slowly coming back. The voice before him was pleading in a language he didn’t know.
A rapid popping sound came from the truck. William slid his head down and fired a round into the direction it came. He realized he wasted a precious, irreplaceable round and waited for a better shot. The mournful wailing continued.
“What do you see?” William asked.
Avi poked his head up. He wore a slender pair of nightvision glasses. “There’s a man on the ground, rolling around. Someone set something off.” He strained forward and pushed some of the rubble pile.
William watched as Avi popped off a single round into the darkness. The wailing stopped.
A second later a scream belted out into the darkness. William sat up higher and scanned into the areas that had enough light to see. A man was on the ground twenty meters away from him and rolling about madly. “Avi! Cover me,” William said, as he crouched and sprinted to the body.
William reached Kerry, who was rolling around grasping at something on his back like it was on fire. William slapped at Kerry’s back and recoiled when he felt a hard metallic shape.
“Get it off! Get the fuckin’ thing off!” Kerry cried.
The thing was about the size of a large apple, firmly latched to his flesh.
William grasped its bitter edges and reefed. Kerry howled. The metallic thing was bored right into his flesh. William cracked at it with the barrel of his pistol, but it did nothing.
“Shoot it, shoot it off!” Kerry cried, as he writhed on the ground.
A loud blast echoed from the truck as a grenade was detonated. The night sky turned titanium white for a split second. William felt a deep shift in his gut as the concussion wave hit.
He focused his attention on the monstrosity bored onto Kerry’s back. He turned the pistol sideways and laid it against the curve of Kerry’s back. William slid his finger onto the crisp trigger and turned his head.
The thing dropped away in a hollow clatter and sat idle at his feet. He released his breath and stepped back, keeping the pistol leveled at it.
Kerry scrambled forward and rubbed the hole on his back. "What'd you do?"
"Nothing, it just fell off."
"Clear! Vito, c'mon up!" Crow yelled from the hostile truck.
William grabbed the drone. It was like a hollow can in his hands. He walked up to the truck, cautiously holding the item like an egg. The dim light wasn't enough to show details.
Crow was hunched next to a man in gray coveralls with combat webbing on his chest. His hands worked quickly as he patted and emptied the pockets. The man was dead.
Near to him, Vito was bent over another man. Avi stood above him with the barrel of his weapon pointed at his chest. This one was alive. A light flickered and Crow tossed a small penlight over. The man wore red slices on his arms, evidence of the wire grenades.
More screams came from the surrounding hovels.
Selim shouted, "Find out what's going on!"
Eduardo came and squatted next to the truck and ran his hands over the edge of the bed where the drones emerged. A dim glow came from the tattoos on his arms as the grubby uniform stretched back. "Oh, what are you?"
"I've got one here," William said as he held the thing before him. He looked at the wounded man. Foamy spit hung onto his lips as he formed words with no sound.
"Oh! Jesus!" Eduardo cried out. "Drop it!"
William dropped the empty metal thing and stepped away, as if burned. "What? What is it?"
"Oh shit," Vito said as he scrambled back.
"Do I shoot it?" William asked, pointing the pistol at the dark spot on the ground.
"No, no, is it empty? Did it already go off?" Eduardo said.
"It was on Kerry, on his back. What is it?" William said.
"Is it empty!" Eduardo shouted.
"Yes, yes!"
Vito talked slowly. "It is a nanite virus carrier. You drop those when you need to control a population, doesn't kill them, just makes them sick, like a flu."
"Oh shit."
"We're inoculated, but they can explode if handled before finding a host," Eduardo said as he kicked it.
"Kerry, too?"
"He'll shit, he'll shit a river of dead nanites, but he'll be fine."
"We've got a problem," Sebastien said, dropping another hollow injector.
"Where did you find it?" Eduardo asked.
"On a civilian."
"Oh..." Vito replied as he laid a fresh bandage down.
"Three days, Vito?"
"Maybe four."
"’Til what?" William asked.
"’Til the entire civilian population is so sick, they'd turn in their own grandmothers."
William turned and stomped on the empty canister. "Is he going to live?"
"I think so," Vito said.
"Toss him in the truck, we better go," Crow said. His arms cradled more of the slender weapons.
* * *
The stamp mill sat like a beacon of rust and slag. The entire purpose of the machine was to rise up and slam down on whatever was beneath. Each smash would drive the ore into tinier and tinier bits. Those bits would be stamped again, and again, until a neighboring refinery could siphon out the useful minerals.
The once proud pillar now lay idle, caked with grit. Only the slides that the piston rode on still shone, polished by millions of relentless cycles. It was into this pit that they laid the captive.
The light played over his skin in that dim orange sky. Light reflected off of the microscopic cuts from that Chilean filament grenade. His teeth were locked and his shoulders drawn up to his neck. The fear was like an animal stink.
William squatted down next to him. "What's your name?"
The eyes opened slightly wider. White reflected orange.
"Name?" Crow asked.
"Dzavi," he replied with his tongue thick in his mouth.
Crow nodded. "Dzavi. Where are you from?"
"Samoa."
"Fuck," a voice said from the darkness.
"Shut up," Crow said. "What is a fine boy from Samoa doing here?"
Dzavi looked to William, then back to Crow. “Working.”
“You better find a few more syllables, Dzavi." William shuffled sideways as he squatted on his haunches, looking down at the captive’s face.
"What kind of work?" Crow asked.
"We watch the refinery, keep the ore coming in, keep things from getting out of hand." He looked up at William and shifted slightly. "Who are you?"
"Who gets the elements?" Crow asked.
"Who are you?" Dzavi asked again.
William
looked up to Crow and shrugged. "My name is William."
"Where did you come from?"
William looked back to Crow with a questioning glance. The captive’s question said more than any answer could.
"Only one place to come from," Crow said.
"Are you going to shoot me?" Dzavi asked, without any fear in his voice.
"No. When we're done, the locals will get you. You'll follow the legal process that they have."
"And they'll shoot me?"
"Did you do anything to deserve getting shot?" Crow asked.
Dzavi kept quiet and stared into the darkness above.
"I'll be back," William said as he walked away from the captive.
He found Vito over by Kerry. Sebastien held the slender penlight. A fresh bandage covered the hole from the nanite drone. Dark lines scratched along his back tracing the veins.
"How do you feel?"
"I've got to shit again."
"He'll be fine, in a day or two," Vito said as he wrapped the bandage tighter.
"Samoans I hear," Sebastien said.
"Samoans."
"Shit," Kerry said through clenched teeth.
"Why the Samoan thing?" William asked. The fear seemed irrational to him.
"Did they keep you under a rock?" Vito asked. He tied the bandage tightly and slapped Kerry on the bottom. "Now go, shit somewhere else."
"Well, no," William said.
Vito sighed. "So the Chinese couldn't ship just anyone into space, they needed a group that was willing to go, otherwise no one would let them colonize. So they go and poke all those little islands that are eroding away and send them out first. The first colonists are the Samoans, so they have this mystique as being special because of it."
"And the Hun use them as shock troops now, they had no home before, and the Hun helped them out," Sebastien said.
"Quit using that term, they're not Hun," Vito said with a shiver. "As it stands, they offer themselves out as private contractors. Like any merc, they like easily won wars that are morally ambiguous."
"Are these mercs then, or is this sponsored?" William asked.
Trial by Ice (A Star Too Far Book 1) Page 14
