The Salvation War 2: Pantheocide

by Slade, Stuart

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kanchanaburi, Thailand

  Making an arrival is a well-versed art for those following the profession of arms. The sudden discovery that Heaven and Hell actually existed, followed by the rapid conquest of the latter had provided so many new opportunities for a dramatic arrival that most officers are hard put to chose which to employ. This arrival was no different, an hour or so earlier a Short 330 transport aircraft had arrived and disgorged a mass of equipment and a team of electronic specialists. Any observers with a basic knowledge of the new generation of electronic systems brought about by the discovery that portals could be opened between Earth and Hell would recognize the system they were setting up as an AN/GSY-1(V)4 Mod 5 Portal Generator.

  If they hadn't, their sad lack of current affairs knowledge would have been remedied when, after two hours hard work setting up the system a black ellipse appeared in the middle of the airfield and a column of five M1114 Humvees roared through and set off down the long, straight road that led to Kanchanaburi. Following them with only a slight delay was another convoy, a mix of more Humvees and six-by-six trucks. This one had troops on display, grim-faced men and women wearing white helmets, white gloves and white scarves. The Air Force personnel watching the cavalcade nodded significantly to each other, these were the Thai Army's military police, the notorious White Mice. That was, in itself, a strong clue as to who had been in the first unit through, although that small convoy that was already disappearing into the distance.

  The local population were used to military convoys making their way through the streets and got out of the way. They saw the red plate with two gold stars mounted on the front fender of each vehicles and noted the array of weapons mounted on the Humvees. They also noted that the vehicles were camouflaged red-gray rather than the usual dark green. The more astute realized that these vehicles had come straight from Hell and the really astute guessed that the Army headquarters in Kanchanaburi was about to get a visit from Hell in more ways than the obvious one. Astute or not, they got out of the way and watched the vehicles pass with resigned patience. It wasn't as if these were politicians after all, these were generals and generals actually worked for a living.

  “This looks bad.” Major General Asanee looked at the crowds of people at the sides of the road. They were refugees, all heading west, away from the advancing Myanmarese Army that was slowly inching its way down towards the transport nexus of Kanchanaburi.

  “Backwash of a war always looks like this Ma'am.” Senior Colonel Prachep was looking out the other window. “But this is worse than most.”

  “We're lucky this is a divided highway. We're going in, most people are coming out.”

  “That's encouraging of course, if the situation was really bad, they'd be using both lanes.”

  “That is true.” Major General Asanee looked at the people on the other lane and guessed there would be more than a few deserters mixed in with them That would be for her White Mice to handle, they would already be setting up road-blocks and vetting the refugees. Genuine civilians would be allowed to continue on their way, life would be easier without them in the way. Any deserters would be detained, she had seriously thought of having them hanged at the roadside but had dismissed the idea. Executing people was a bit pointless these days, they'd just end up in Hell. Instead, they would be put into units tasked with the most dangerous of operations.

  The Humvee column turned sharp right, past a complex of red-roofed buildings. She gestured abruptly. “The Tantipkan Hotel. Commandeer it, we'll use it as accommodation for the sensitives. They'll work better if they have somewhere comfortable to live.”

  Prachep picked up the radio and contacted the White Mice unit back at the airfield. They'd detach a squad to tell the Hotel owner he now had a new set of residents. He understood exactly what his General had in mind, they'd been working together for years and, like any good aide, he could almost think with her mind. This whole operation depended on portals being opened to and from Hell, they would take care of moving reinforcements into the region and keeping them supplied. They had another purpose as well, Myanmarese aircraft hadn't been reported this far west, not yet, and if they came, they would be in for a very unpleasant surprise. General Petraeus had made two squadrons of F-22s available to provide the Thai Army with air cover.

  “This road seems clear.” Off the radio after the brief message, Prachep looked around again. The Humvee column was holding a steady 50 miles per hour, an impressive sight since only a couple of feet separated each of the vehicles. The drivers were blasting their horns at anybody who got in the way but the warnings were very few.

  “It's the back way in. Most people will be on the main street, about two hundred meters on our left. The Allied War Cemetery is just ahead of us on the left.” The convoy swung right, passing across a trio of reservoirs. “Sports ground up ahead. Remember it, we can use it as a portal point. They've been doing some building around here, those places with the blue roofs weren't there when I was here last.”

  The column swung left, then right again, once more parallel to the main road. Ahead of them was a crossroads, blocked with vehicles. The drivers didn’t slow down, they just held their hands on the vehicle horns and watched the civilians panicking as they tried to get out of the way. Two pick-up trucks collided as one backed up too hastily and a third went into a ditch.

  “Purple roofs?” Prachep waved at some houses on the right.

  “No accounting for taste. Barracks of the 9th Infantry coming up on the left. That should be their armored battalion.” She paused for a second. “Vehicles still in laager.” Her contralto voice was grim.

  The road started to curve to the left. Ahead of them was a junction with the main road. The convoy still didn’t hesitate or reduce speed, it swung right on to the highway and kept on its way, leaving more stalled civilian vehicles behind them. Up ahead of the, a large dragon's head had been built by the roadside. It and the steel gates beside it marked the headquarters of Third Army. Seeing her convoy approach, the guards threw the gates open.

  General Asanee looked at them as they saluted her vehicle. “Find out who those guards are and break the entire guard detail to privates. Then assign them to mine clearance. We're at war, nobody should be getting into this base without being challenged. Make that clear to their replacements.”

  The Humvees swung into a car park in front of the headquarters building, a parking lot that was marked with the circular lines of a helipad. The five vehicles stopped in a neat line in front of the main entrance, the occupants debussing with the skill of long practice. It wasn't the first time that they'd taken over a command post this way.

  “Sergeant Tram? Go to the Sergeant's Mess, talk to the President, find out what is really going on here. Corporal Vung? Do the same for the Corporal's Mess, find out what troop morale and standards are. Rest of you come with me.”

  The party burst through the doors of the headquarters, sending them slamming back against their stops. A receptionist was sitting behind a desk, she waved her hands ineffectually but did nothing to stop them. “One civilian. No armed guards.” Prachep's voice was contemptuous.

  “Fire her. She should have got on the telephone to warn people at least.” The General led the way down the corridor that ran through the center of the building, the slam of boots on marble floor echoing off the walls. She gave no sign of noticing but the members of her party were keeping in perfect step with her. General Asanee knew how to make an entrance. She reached the double doors leading to the command center and two of her men threw them open while she stalked into the room.

  “We really must decide what is best to be done. ” Major General Thamassaret looked around in shock at the sudden interruption. “Who the hell are you?”

  “General Thamassaret. You are relieved as commander of Third Army and Third Army Region. Effective immediately. Report to Supreme Command Headquarters for reassignment.”

  Thamassaret looked outraged at the terse orde
r and stormed out of the room. The General looked around the room then studied the situation map. Almost immediately she missed the American-supplied electronic displays and maps that equipped the Human Expeditionary Army. This map was paper even though it was covered with a perspex screen.

  “Intellignce Officer?”

  “Yes Ma'am?” An unidentified Colonel spoke up from a table near the map.

  “Enemy forces, positions, axis of advance?”

  “On the map ma'am.”

  The General took a laser pointer from her pocket and shone it on a red marker sausage with the number ‘100,000?’ scrawled in it. “This?” Her voice was disbelieving. “This is the best you can do?”

  “Myanmar MiG-29s stopped us getting recon flights over the area and...”

  “You're relieved of your post, report to Supreme Command Headquarters for reassignment. Colonel Prachep, take over his position. Logistics?” She pointed to the number on the map. “Try and explain that.”

  The logistics officer gulped. “Well, Ma'am, its our best-guess estimate of...”

  “How will the Myanmar Army supply 100,000 men over a stretch of country that has only a handful of roads when they have no air transport, no available railway and shift supplies using manpacks? If you can't see the blatant impossibility of that number, you've no right to wear this uniform. You're relieved of your post, report to Supreme Command Headquarters for reassignment. General Senawith?”

  “Ma'am?”

  “Why are there no patrols out? What about contact with the Tahan Phran? There should be several companies of them in the area.” Her voice was challenging, Senawith was a Thaksin appointee, he'd got this position due to his loyalty to the ex-Prime Minister, not any command ability.

  “We took a decision to concentrate all our forces around this city. And you know what the civilians are like, every man they see is an army.”

  “You're relieved of command. Report to Supreme Command Headquarters for reassignment.” She pointed at his deputy. “Supadom, take over command of the division. Get it into contact with the enemy and keep it that way.”

  “You wouldn't throw your weight around like this if Thaksin was still in charge.” Senawith was stuffing papers from his desk into a briefcase.

  “As it happens I did, but anyway, he isn’t, he pissed on the Army's turf and he's gone. My cousin is now the Prime Minister. And leave the papers where they are, we need to go through them. Chun, check him before he leaves.” Asanee paused for a slight second, then cut across him just as he started to speak. “Yes, I am a serious bitch. Now get out and let us get on with our job.

  “First Regiment. How quickly can we get it on the road east? I want it up in Chong Sadao by dusk.”

  “We can't do it, we've only just moved into...”

  “You're relieved of command. Report to Supreme Command Headquarters for reassignment.” She looked around at her team. “Colonel Thawat, take over command of First of Ninth and get it on the road to Chong Sadao by noon. I want information on enemy dispositions and operations, not an inflated condom drawn on a map “

  There was silence for a few seconds. “We need to get moving on this. How much gasoline and diesel fuel is in the city.”

  The local mayor was in the back of the room, trying not to get seen. “I don’t know, give me an hour and I'll have the information for you.”

  “Good answer. We've got five divisions arriving over the next few days. First and Second Cavalry will be in the city by evening, First Armored by tomorrow, Second and Eleventh Infantry by the day after. They're all mechanized, they'll need fuel and supplies. Also the troops will need bivouac areas. See to it. I want to speak with the local head of civil defense. Get him here.”

  She looked around at the room, there was an electric spark in the atmosphere that hadn't been there before. She knew what it was, she'd seen it before. All it needed was somebody to take charge and set standards and people rose to the challenge. Once they'd done so once, they'd find it easier to do it again.

  Outside the main center, Corporal Kasit was sitting in front of the radio communications bank, his feet on the desk, dozing gently. It wasn't as if he wanted to spend the day that way but the inactivity while the brass in the operations room argued over what to be do had left him little choice. The crash as the door to his section was thrown open woke him and he found himself staring into a pair of black, expressionless eyes. Female eyes but still very professional

  “And just what do you think you are up to?”

  Kasit had been married for years and knew that when caught cold under these circumstances the best thing to do was to admit everything and throw himself on the mercy of the court.

  “I was goofing off Ma'am.”

  Major General Asanee looked at him carefully. “I'm promoting you to Sergeant. You’re the only person I've met in this building so far who knows what he's been doing.”

  Mess, Camp Hell-Alpha

  “So you can't get drunk?” kitten sounded very sympathetic.

  “So it appears. We've tried hard a couple of times but it just doesn't happen. The egg-heads say its because us dead'uns don't actually absorb things from what we eat. Apparently we absorb energy from our surroundings just like plants. They say eating is just a left-over thing, we don’t have to if we don’t want to. Don’t ask me how that all works, I always was just a poor dumb grunt, now I'm just a poor dead grunt and I might have got it all wrong. Anyway, if we don’t absorb the alcohol, we don’t get drunk.” Sergeant (deceased) Tucker McElroy looked positively distraught at the prospect of spending eternity sober.

  “Look on the bright side. You can spend all of eternity sampling different brews and never get a hangover.” kitten's partner quaffed down the remains of a can of beer. “Speaking of which, can I get you guys another round?”

  There was a slight stir of discontent at the words and he looked nervous, wondering if he'd said something wrong. McElroy grinned at him reassuringly. “Sorry kid, its just that kitten's – and your – money isn’t good at any military base in Hell. Nobody's ever going to forget what she did to keep us all going in the early days. So you two sit tight and the bar will bring another round over.”

  kitten flushed with embarrassment and looked downwards. She was about to say something when the light over the airlock door went red, showing that somebody was coming in from outside. She could hear the machinery cycling, pumping out the dust-contaminated air and replacing it with clean. Tucker had told her that even the dead, who could breath the dirt-laden air of Hell without ill-effects, preferred to live in clean-air surroundings. For the living, of course, there was no real choice.

  “kitten, I'm sorry to have to break up your party, but we need your help over at headquarters.” The aide quietly waved to stop McElroy and the rest of his unit getting to their feet. “We need a lot of gates pushed through fast and General Petraeus wants you to look after this end of it.”

  “Sir, with respect sir, hasn't kitten done enough? She needs a long rest.”

  “It's all right Tucker, it doesn’t hurt to push a gate through from this side.” She smiled shyly, “and its what I'm paid for after all. Look on it this way, it gives us an excuse for another meet later. We'd better go Dani.”

  Her boyfriend picked up the end of her leash and tugged it. Obediently she stood and he led her out to where a V-22 was waiting. McElroy drained his can and shook his head slowly. “Well, people, it looks like our break is over. Cassidy, get everybody else rousted out, we've got to get set up for our next job.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Section 18, DIMO(N) Field Research Facility, Camp Hell-Alpha, Hell

  “Are you quite comfortable, kitten?” Doctor Ilya Muromets asked the question almost on autopilot. He was too concerned with getting his equipment set up and stabilized to be really interested in the answer.

  “Yes, thank you Doctor. But shouldn’t we be over at the operational base, I thought there were troop movements to get started?”

  �
��There are, but the units aren’t ready to move yet. It'll be a few hours before the military portals will be needed so we're going to run a few experiments into portal opening. Portal science is a big thing now, several of the big universities have opened up departments to study all the new physics we're running into out here.”

  “Hurry up and wait.” Dani repeated the time-honored phrase with gloomy relish. “What are we doing here anyway?”

  “That's right, but these experiments have a long term significance. We're looking into how the other end of the portal gets established, or more specifically, what part the contact at the other end plays. Then, we're hoping we can automate it so we don’t need a sensitive at both ends to push a portal through.”

  “That's easy, I just relax and let my mind search. When I get an echo, I hold it and the equipment pumps energy into the link. That's the bit that hurts, when the power goes right up, it feels like my brain is being torn apart. Like the worst migraine you ever had. It's not nearly so bad here in Hell though.”

  Muromets nodded in acknowledgement. “Most of the work being done right now is insulating the sensitive from that power transmission, to reduce exactly what your describing. But, I'm more interested in the echo you mentioned. You see, if I'm right, there isn’t a transmission of any sort from the sensitive back to you. What you're feeling is a sort of resonance of your own transmission. The better the sensitive the other end, the stronger the resonance. My belief is that the resonance strength is determined by the degree of Nephilim ancestry the sensitive has. You're the best because you have a high level of such ancestry.”

  “That would make sense.” kitten giggled. “Where I come from, family trees don’t have many branches.”

  “My equipment has settled down now.” Muromets sighed. “The trouble is that the signals we are getting are so weak that they're lost in the electronic noise unless we're really careful. That's why they escaped detection for so long, nobody ever believed something that slight could be so important. People saw the signals but dismissed them as artifacts of the equipment. Just random noise caused by statistic uncertainty. The evidence was there, right in front of us the whole time and nobody looked at it.”