Heavy Weapons (Grendel Uprising Book 3)

by Scott Moon

  GRENDEL 0473829: UNSECURED VALLEY

  MISSION CLOCK: N/A

  DAY broke through the clouds above First Base as Seccon walked across the outer courtyard. Raising one hand to shield his eyes, he studied the catwalks and the strategically placed towers. Three hundred years ago, plus or minus a decade, combat engineers calculated the exact distance needed between defensive points. Concealed machine guns, auto-cannons, and rocket launchers waited for anyone foolish enough to assault the fortress. The walls looked like quarried stone but were actually bonded concrete reinforced with stainless steel i-beams and sheeted aluminum wrapping the foundation for extra support.

  From time to time, he saw groups of soldiers running for exercise around the interior courtyards, but no human manned the ramparts. To a native of Grendel watching from a distance, the castle would seem undefended.

  The outer courtyard was the largest space in First Base. The people of Sky Clan camped there, despite the availability of apartments and barracks. Awed by the strangers in this place, the Grendels stayed together. Children played in groups, never leaving the camp without adult supervision, which was anyone over twelve years old.

  Borghild crossed to a group of Sixth Armored-infantry Lighting Division soldiers. The leader of the squad was Sergeant Jon Black. If Seccon’s memory was correct, he was the boyfriend — or perhaps fiancé — of First Sergeant Cindy-Loren 71019, one of Aefel’s go-to people.

  The soldiers stood from cleaning gear and telling jokes to greet Borghild. Seccon marveled at her beauty and strength. Harsh winter sunlight reflected through her hair. Her smile was like a weapon Seccon wanted to be struck by. If she couldn’t get them to listen to his message, no one could.

  Seccon wasn’t the only person watching the exchange.

  Fey ceased the mending she had been working on and narrowed her gaze, tracking Borghild’s movements.

  “Seccon,” a familiar voice said.

  Seccon turned to see General Nguyen striding toward him.

  “Hello, General,” Seccon said. “You received my message, it seems.”

  “I did,” General Nguyen said. He motioned for his aide and his bodyguards to stand back. “I thought we had an agreement.”

  “We did, and this is how I will deliver my part of it,” Seccon said, trying to watch Borghild’s progress without being obvious.

  “By taking your prize and leaving? I don’t see how that helps me. I need Aefel today. This mission is behind schedule. There are serious native threats moving into the valley. I don’t have time for games,” Nguyen said, blue eyes flashing with both eagerness and intensity.

  “You’re welcome,” Seccon said.

  Nguyen’s expression tightened until his surgically enhanced face lost its charm. “For what? I heard you were an arrogant, sarcastic asshole. Make your point or the deal’s off.”

  “No.” Seccon smiled. “The deal is not off, will never be off. I have the paperwork and a digital copy filed with Galactic Central.”

  “Make your point.”

  Seccon smiled, drawing the moment out, speaking the instant his adversary opened his mouth to repeat the demand. “I will use my ‘prize’ as bait. Aefel can and will evade your patrols indefinitely. However, he does have an attachment to Sky Clan. He’s gone native — a tradition among FALDs, I believe. When I have his location, I’ll let you know.”

  “See that you do.”

  “Everyone wins,” Seccon said.

  Nguyen turned back, stared, then signaled his entourage to keep up as he hurried out of the courtyard.

  The sound of laughter drew his attention back to Borghild and the SALD squad. She had several new fans. Seccon didn’t want to be jealous, but it was hard when she looked like that and he was so lonely.

  Free of the Zero Brigade general and his henchmen, Seccon labored to mobilize Sky Clan. What he needed was a threat of Armageddon to motivate them.

  “Fey, it’s time to move out,” he said.

  The lithe pseudo-Dane studied him, then nodded. “I will spread the word. Where are we going?”

  “Another base like this one, but farther away and safer,” he said. Stepping near the young woman, he leaned down and spoke in a lower voice. “Aefel will meet us on the road.”

  “He told you this?” Fey asked.

  “No.”

  She watched his expression. “What game is this, Sangerhinde?”

  “The grand finale,” he said.

  “I do not like your strange words,” she said.

  “Nevertheless, Fey, we will win the day with Aefel by our side, or the galaxy will burn.”

  She considered this, taking a moment to study her people as she stalled for time to think. “What is galaxy?”

  “The earth and sky for as far as you can imagine,” he said.

  A flock of small birds burst from one of the towers.

  “I will gather Sky Clan,” Fey said. “Please say something to Gunnar so that his feelings are not wounded.”

  Seccon went to the clan chief, young as he was, and shared a flagon of ale as they ate and discussed plans for the day. Sveinn and several young boys were allowed to sit and listen, which was good.

  The day had come to begin mentoring the young emperor.

  Sky Clan left First Base by the Green Gate.

  “Why do they call it the Green Gate?” Sveinn asked Seccon as they walked behind Gunnar and the elder women of the clan toward the exit. “There is nothing green about it. I thought there would be potted plants or something like the strangers keep in their ay-tree-um.”

  “They also call that a greenhouse,” Seccon said.

  “Strangers are strange,” Sveinn said.

  “They like to eat fruits and vegetables out of season.”

  Sveinn looked back at the modern fortress that was disguised as a primitive castle. “I bet they have stomach aches all year round.”

  Seccon laughed. A small green light flashed on the top of the gate when it opened.

  The procession moved well with fresh animals and well-rested men, women, and children to carry the load. The gravel-packed road twisted down into the next section of the upland valley, leading someday to the other side of the nearly impassable mountain range. The rising sun painted one wall of the pass, leaving the other in shadow that was somehow as marvelous and rich as the glory opposing it. Birds arched high above. Gentle breezes shook snow from evergreen trees. Streams and rivers flowed in the distance.

  “Beautiful,” Seccon said.

  Sveinn looked at him for a moment. “It is a valley.”

  “The farther you travel from your home, the more you will appreciate the view.”

  Sveinn made a skeptical face, then looked to see all the animal handlers were doing their jobs. He shifted the straps to the shield hanging on his back. “Will we see Aefel again?”

  “Perhaps,” Seccon said. “Is this something you want?”

  “He was teaching me new ways of fighting,” Sveinn said.

  12

  SHOWDOWN

  GRENDEL 0473829: VALLEY OF LIGHTS

  MISSION CLOCK: N/A

  “They have come! Only the strongest among us endure the frozen heights with such vigor!” Jorgo roared. A second later, he saw what had already stunned Aefel to silence.

  Thousands of Grendel warriors — men, women, and children — fled other Grendels.

  Except the pursuing mass of native humans weren’t really Grendels. Aefel was one of the few living souls to have witnessed the reach of a Carosn Device. A tremor ran through his body like an electric shock.

  Jorgo stopped and took a short step back as he watched in horror. “What are those demons? They look like my people but covered in frozen blood.” He squinted to see through the early morning haze.

  Aefel sat on a rock, unwilling to speculate on the scene from this distance. There would be time enough later. “The intensity of the Carosn field causes capillaries to burst. In extreme cases, if the subjects resist long enough, blood vessels deeper in the
muscle rupture. Sometimes the organs pop out. Death comes in stages.”

  “Speak plainly,” Jorgo said, clenching his giant fists as he loomed over Aefel.

  “Doctor Carosn engineered the end of all war, or so he thought. While under the effect of the field, a person must comply to authority or explode,” Aefel said. “There are several problems with the application of the technology.”

  Jorgo backed away from him and returned to his observation point on the ridge. Wailing in agony, voice deep as a bear’s, he watched the slaughter on the other side of the valley.

  “The most obvious problem being who is in authority,” Aefel said. “I wouldn’t go any closer if I were you. Not yet.”

  “Damn you, Aefel! How do I save my people?” Jorgo demanded.

  “Nuke them from space,” Aefel said, staring between his feet.

  “It is not just my people in danger,” Jorgo said. “Sky Clan is in the Valley of Lights. They will be murdered by these demons. What is a nuke?”

  Aefel nodded wearily. “There are two things we must do, Jorgo,” Aefel said, forcing himself to his feet. Fatigue grabbed every muscle and joint and squeezed. His brain told him he was already feeling the CD, even though he understood he was out of range.

  “Tell me the rules of this quest. I will save my people with or without your help,” Jorgo said.

  Aefel almost believed the man could do it. The genetic modification of Jorgo’s ancestors, regardless of how they had found themselves on this abandoned reenactment world, showed in his size and single mindedness. Aefel was a big man and well muscled, yet Jorgo dwarfed him.

  “A Carosn device must be placed in a human that acts as a conduit for controlling the rest of the horde. Less than one percent of modern humans can tolerate the device. Once it is implanted, they are effectively immortal until physically destroyed,” Aefel said.

  “How do you know this?” Jorgo set his jaw and stared at Aefel, chest rising and falling as he breathed.

  “I was tested long ago on a planet called Remington World. If you tell anyone, I will deny it.” Aefel stood and took stock of the forces moving in the valley. The fleeing Grendels were an obvious threat, but he also sensed modern warriors on the hunt for something or someone.

  “What are the two things we must do?” Jorgo asked.

  “Stay alive and kill the Carosn Host,” Aefel said. He pointed with the tip of his sword at the center of the swarm coming out of the ice pass. “Whoever the unlucky bastard shackled with the device is, he’s sensed our presence. He knows we know. There can be no turning back, no hesitation. The device works on the mind.” Aefel tapped the side of his head.

  “Then it is time,” Jorgo said. “Ready yourself. Sky Clan will be eliminated by the time we cross the valley. The hotjidelig-ed will be concluded and I will go home to my people.”

  “What?” Aefel said. He turned to see a caravan of Grendels with a small escort from First Base. They moved away from the horde and could not see it from their vantage point. Closer to Fey and the others was an NGO strike team.

  Aefel doubted they were going to take prisoners this time. Fey, her sisters, and her brother Sveinn were about to be assassinated with the subtlety of a heavy weapons barrage.

  “Fey!” Aefel shouted, then bolted down the mountainside toward the floor of the valley.

  “What are you doing? You said we must attack the Carisin, Caron, Carosn Host…” Jorgo’s voice held more menace than the first time they had fought. “Do not betray me!”

  Aefel didn’t have the time or energy to explain it was a hopeless quest. Jorgo, despite his genetic gifts, could not fight his way to the center of the horde, and if he did, he wouldn’t know what to look for. The two of them together had a slim chance, but even that was more about dying well than a real chance of success.

  “Look for a man with burning green eyes,” Aefel said. “Or help me stop the NGO bastards. Help me save my people, and I will help you save yours.”

  Jorgo thrust a finger at him. “You said no hesitation. You’ve already lost. I will not fail so easily.” The giant jogged toward the swarming mass of Grendels under the influence of the Carosn Device. They left a trail of their own dead.

  Aefel took one last look. He’d never seen so many CD victims. His experience on Remington World had been with a single squad. Keeping First Sergeant Cindy-Loren, Paul, the rest of his platoon from them had taken required trickery and outright lies. He’d set Cindy on the Capital Trading Company Command post only to keep her and the others away from the Carosn Device, because by then, he knew he could be used as a Host.

  His stolen, poorly tuned gear fought him as he ran. Cursing, he pushed himself and the armor harder, jumping over boulders, fallen trees, and streams. Each time his feet hit the ground, he felt the impact of his weight. Sensory experience was heightened. The mountain forest rushed by. His heart pounded as he neared the gap between Sky Clan and the NGO force.

  Normally, he would be checking in with his squad leaders. His only potential ally at the moment was Seccon, who no longer possessed communications technology.

  He assessed the tactical situation on the move and realized there were three modern forces converging on Sky Clan faster than he was. Proximity provided his only advantage. He would arrive first, followed by one of the two unknown units.

  Fey pushed past Seccon and ran to the front of the Sky Clan order of march. He couldn’t hear what she was yelling, but the sight of her made him glad.

  “Say again, we are inbound,” a voice said. “Come on, Aef. What the...are you doing...Shut it, Paul, I see the CD victims same as you...”

  Aefel stopped short, listening to the open comlink few people used in the field. “Sergeant Loren?”

  “Thank God, Lt. I thought you were deaf in the horrible outfit you have rigged up,” First Sergeant Cindy-Loren said. “I’ve made contact with Seccon’s bodyguard, Jon Black. The half-company on my left are Strongarms looking for Seccon. The rest are NGOs.”

  “Copy that,” Aefel said, moving forward. He added information to his heads-up display in his retinal shorthand. “Give me a situation report on the NGO force.”

  “Too much for us to handle,” Cindy said in his earpiece, then proceeded to report by the numbers.

  Things happened fast after that.

  He heard the roar of the Carosn Host, sensing how close they were beyond the next stand of mountain trees to his right. On his left, the NGO laid down suppressive fire as they locked forces with his FALD platoon and the Strongarms.

  Seccon screamed at Sveinn and his sisters, waving them toward Aefel and the relative safety of modern combat. The young emperor was having none of it.

  Thousands of Grendels surged over the rising, trampling saplings and underbrush by force of numbers as they surged into the clearing. Aefel saw the young boy, the rightful emperor of the Earth Systems Commonwealth, standing on a slight rise, shield on one arm and sword held ready. His childish army gathered around him to face what must have appeared as demons to them.

  “Sky Clan! To the fight!”

  “Paul!” Aefel screamed. “That boy with the sword. Guard him with your life. Weapons free, Paul, give me everything!”

  Paul surged ahead of the other FALD Reavers, driving his huge armor faster than seemed possible. In moments, he was free of the NGO forces and other modern warriors. He cut across the clearing and burst upon Sveinn and Gunnar’s flank as they stared in surprise and fascination.

  Aefel tried to catch up, yelling at Fey, who was also in the shield wall. “Fey! He’s with me. Get behind him.”

  Paul opened up on the first wave of the Grendel Carosn slaves with both weapons, laying bodies down in swaths of gore.

  Wanting desperately to lift Fey in his arms and hold her to him, Aefel addressed her and her brother instead. “Your real enemy lies that way. Take Paul and my unit. Seccon and his Strongarms will help. Face down the NGOs. They are trying to take your birthright, Sveinn.”

  “I don’t understand,�
�� Fey said.

  Gunnar, already wounded, watched in mute misery.

  Sveinn listened carefully.

  “I must help Jorgo kill the champion of this Grendel horde. The people who look like my people but are attacking us have come to kill you, Sveinn. I can’t explain now, but you have a destiny. Your people and mine must become one. Use Seccon as your bodyguard and my sergeant as your general.”

  “Aefel,” Fey said.

  “I’ve got to go now. Jorgo needs my help.”

  She shook her head. “That is the strangest thing you’ve said yet.”

  He turned away.

  Near the edge of the clearing, servants of the Carosn Device dragged Jorgo down. The giant used the momentum of an attack to lift a blood-spattered warrior above his head and fling him into the fray. A second later, part of the same attack sequence, he smashed another man in the face with his axe. The scene burned into Aefel’s memory like a colorful photograph.

  He moved, hating the decision he was making. Fey and the others screamed and fought behind him as gunfire and explosions shredded the morning light.

  The open radio chirped in his ear several times. “Come back to us, Aefel,” First Sergeant Cindy-Loren said.

  He wasn’t certain he’d heard the word correctly. Carosn fields pulsed in his vision and he felt the darkness of Hell surging around his consciousness.

  Then, everything was violence.

  Welcome to the charnel house, you Reaver dogs!

  “I know you think you know what you’re doing, lieutenant,” Cindy broadcast to him from what seemed a universe away. Violence buffeted his senses, including hearing. “But you need us at your side.”

  He ignored his sergeant. She was right. As always. But if he fell, the Carosn Device would take him and he would turn his friends inside out.

  Fighting forward, he realized that his FALD units, a group of SALDs probably led by Jon Black, and the Strongarms were hitting the NGO troops with epic speed and violence. Sveinn and his shield wall faced the horrors of mangled and still fighting Grendels with calm determination beyond what armed children should be capable of.