Out of the 18 drones available to the 6th Company, six were ‘Mules’. It was basically a drone with eight legs, four on each side and a large rectangular box in between where the Marines could dump supplies to be carried along. The Mules had no offensive firing capability, and as their name suggested were meant to just carry weight for the Marines.
On plain ground, the Mules could carry a lot of weight, but there was a limit to how much it could carry upslope. Unfortunately the Shaitan canals ran on gravity, which meant that it would be upslope all the way to Lake Emmanuel. The Marines hastily unloaded almost everything from the Mule except ammunition, some food and water, although the water in Jehannum was safe for human consumption.
Then the Marines dumped their suits and armor along with their weapons on the 6 Mules. The Mules were stretched to their limits in carrying capacity, and would move fairly slowly, but it was better than that load being carried by the Marines. The mules would catch up with the Marines eventually.
The Marines were now stripped to their underclothes that they wore beneath their suits. They were bare feet, but the ground wasn’t that rough and at 40% gravity far less likely to hurt the soles than these humans were used to while running on the highlands of Kenya. Almost all of them were used to running bare feet anyway, and some actually preferred it that way.
The three things that they detached from their emergency kit were a com booster unit which could be hung around their neck, the oxygen bottle which they held in one hand with the dispenser strapped to their head and the snout on their nose, and lastly a bottle of water. Fortunately every one of the Marine was a tech-head, so they would have full communication and display capability inside their head as long as the com booster unit stayed close to their body.
The first runners were out of their block in less than two minutes after Lt. Odoyo had started the clock, but the last ones bust the 3 minute deadline by a few seconds. The greatest marathon ever run was now underway under the surface of a dark moon quarter light year away from Earth, and the Shaitans already had a few minutes of head start.
Running on a surface with a lower than Earth gravity requires a change of rhythm from the one we humans instinctively have. One tends to rise higher and hence get to put the next foot on the ground later than they would on Earth. If one has to optimize the energy efficiency of one’s run, then there are two strategies that can be taken.
First is to push forward with one foot with the same force as one would normally do on Earth. Since this would take one higher up in the air and hence longer before the next foot hits the ground, one would have to slow down their entire body rhythm so that the next foot reaches at the correct position at the correct time. If someone were to watch such a runner, the runner would almost look running in slow motion in a comical pantomime fashion.
The Second strategy is to simply push forward with a lower force so as to fall back to the ground at approximately the same time as one would on Earth, and hence be able to keep the same timing of steps as one would on Earth. There had been no scientific study done on which of the two was more energy efficient, hence each runner followed one of the two styles according to their personal preference.
The Marines had nearly a hundred kilometers to run, all the way uphill, climbing a net gradient that would take them half a kilometer up. That was more than twice the distance of a Marathon, with a gradient that would be one of the tougher ones even for a course on Earth.
There were a few things that were going in favor of the runners too. First and foremost was the lower gravity. It was not an automatic advantage to have a lower gravity. Humans had to adapt their running style to take advantage of the lower gravity, otherwise it can actually become a problem for a long distance run, with the runners missing their rhythm and tiring themselves out.
However if there was a group of humans who could have adapted best, it had to be the Marines of the 6th Company. Almost all of them had received more than just a casual training in long distance running, as is the tradition in the schools of East Africa. There were many who had at one time or another aspired to be a professional long distance runner, and hence undergone rigorous training running long distance. Long distance running to an East African was what soccer is to a Brazilian – a passion and a ticket out of poverty into the life of a superstar and riches. Every East African kid dreamt about it.
The second thing going for the runners was the temperature. Inside GC-1 the temperature ranged between 12°C and 15°C. It would ordinarily be considered cold, but it was ideal temperature for the human body to cool down efficiently without losing too much body fluid in the form of sweat. This caused lower loss of body salts and kept the runners in better shape.
It took about two kilometers for the runners to get into their groove and a steady rhythm. By that time the Marines had bunched into three groups. One ahead by about 500 meters from the group in the middle, and one lagging the middle group by a few hundred meters. Lt. Odoyo himself was in the middle group, pacing himself for the long haul run.
Lt. Odoyo was an experienced runner and had expected this separation according to the running prowess of individuals. Every Marine of the 6th Company could not be expected to be of the same running caliber as the best of them, so there had be laggards. As long the number of laggards remains small, it would not be a big problem. For his plan to work, 12 Marines had to beat the Shaitans to the exit, preferably 24 for the most optimal results.
Lt. Odoyo looked at the progress of the Shaitans, who were being followed by the Snakes, so the Marines had an exact fix on their current location at any point of time. His heart sank as Lt. Odoyo looked at the schematic diagram represented inside his head. Just like the humans, individual Shaitans probably had different running capabilities, for they had now stretched into a train of running Shaitans many kilometers long.
What made his heart sink however was the total number of Shaitans, which the Snakes had finally managed to count – 1013! Most likely they started off with 1024 for the ambush, and the Marines managed to kill a few in the initial firefight, and some may have been crushed in the cave-in. That was not even the worst news! The leading Shaitans were ahead of the leading humans by over 8 kilometers! Not only had the Shaitans maintained their initial head start lead, but they had increased that lead.
Clearly the Shaitans were running faster than the humans. They were in fact sprinting by human standards. If they could keep up this pace all the way for the rest of the distance, then it would not be humanly possible to beat the Shaitans. The East Africans were the best human runners, but they were still humans. The Shaitans, true to their name, were running like demons. Lt. Odoyo was now having serious doubts about his strategy. He actively considered halting the race and returning back to hunker down and await rescue.
Lt. Odoyo connected to Pvt. Onyango, the best runner in the Company, who was at the forefront of the lead group. “Tuwile, have you seen the progress of the Shaitans?”
“No Sir, I was concentrating on my run. Give me a moment.” Pvt. Tuwile Onyango replied. After a few seconds he spoke again. “I see them now sir.”
“Tuwile, I need to know that I am not condemning my Marines to being shredded to pieces in their underwear, by Shaitan bullets. That is exactly what is going to happen if at least 10 to 12 of us don’t beat the Shaitans to the exit. Forget armor, we don’t even have weapons to fire back. To say that we would be caught with our pants down would be an understatement!” Lt. Odoyo said.
“There is only one way to find an answer to that sir. We start pacing the lead Shaitans.” Pvt. Onyango replied.
“Are you sure you will be able to catch up and keep pace with them all the way through Tuwile? I need to know an honest answer to that Tuwile. The lives of all of us depend on that answer.” Lt. Odoyo asked Pvt. Onyango gravely.
“I am sure of my heart sir. Of my flesh I cannot be sure. Some of us can volunteer to go ahead and give it our best shot sir, while the rest can hold back and see if we make it. If we don�
��t, then the rest will have time to get back to the Mule and rearm themselves.” Pvt. Tuwile Onyango replied without hesitation.
What Pvt. Onyango was suggesting would put a few of the frontrunners in grave danger and almost certain death if they did not make it. It would however prevent putting the entire company into the line of fire unarmed and unarmored in case of losing the race. It was definitely a better option for a commander, but it did not make the burden of that decision easier for Lt. Odoyo.
He knew that all of them would volunteer, but he could still be ordering some of the finest Marines to their death. Tuwile had been one of the hopefuls for the Kenyan marathon team, and was as close to a professional runner as they had in the Company. He would know the best runners amongst his mates, Lt. Odoyo decided to let him pick his team.
Tuwile chose eleven of his mates and spoke to them in Bantu Swahili. “I know how I want to live, if I am to come out of this alive – with my head held high. I have also chosen how I am to die, if that be my fate. I choose neither out of pride as a runner, nor has the Lieutenant ordered me. I choose because fate has put me in this place here and now, to represent humanity, to test us against the Shaitans. A test of what we humans are made of, and I don’t intend to let humanity down. If you feel the same way my brothers, then mark that lead Shaitan as your pacer, and let us show this universe what humans are made of.”
Tuwile did not say any further word, he simply picked up his pace and broke away from the group. Neither did any of the other eleven say a single word. They also broke away from the group and joined up with Tuwile.
A hundred years ago, as the average nutrition of East Africa started catching up with the rest of the world, a stark fact started emerging that could neither be missed nor ignored. 90% of all long distance runs were won by East Africans. Half of those winners in fact came from a single tribe in Kenya – the Kalenjin, a tribe of only 4 million humans, which is just 0.04% of humanity producing half of all long distance running champions.
The fact that there was something special about this group of humans was obvious, but human society at that time was in a delicate position vis-à-vis analyzing this phenomenon scientifically. Humanity was emerging from hundreds of years of racial discrimination, justified by racism and racial philosophies. It didn’t help that a lot of the racial bigots used pseudo-science to justify their views.
The Africans had been the biggest targets of racism throughout history, hence no scientist dared study the phenomenon in a formal scientific study, lest they be accused of racial prejudice. One of the classic argument of bigots had been that Africans have superior physical capabilities because they had inferior mental capabilities, making them only suitable for manual labor. A study of this nature might play into the hands of such bigoted views and hence no credible scientist would take up such a study.
It took almost another century before humanity got comfortable enough, and equitable enough for them to discuss genetic differences between races without having to carry the baggage of a tortured past along with them. The results confirmed what was visible to any layman with their naked eyes.
Still as a testimony to the sensitive nature of the research in human society, almost all studies started with an explicit and labored disclaimer that there was no evidence that, just because East Africans had superior running abilities, they have diminished faculties in any other respect.
It was a gift of nature, and a genetic lottery won by the East Africans that made their bodies and internal organs suited exceptionally well for long distance running. They had less mass for their height, longer legs, shorter torsos, and more slender limbs. It gave them almost ‘bird like’ abilities compared to the rest of the humans.
That legendary running ability of this group of humans was now put to the test as 12 Marines broke out of the pack and endeavored to catch up with the Shaitans. The twelve had picked up the pace so that the lead Shaitans were no longer increasing the gap. The human runners were experienced enough however not to attempt to close the gap immediately. They would pace themselves to close the gap over the rest of the course.
Lt. Odoyo felt guilty that he was not in the forefront leading the charge, but he knew his limitations. He could never match Tuwile and his mates in this contest. He let them do what they did best, and he concentrated on his task – planning. If the 12 did manage to beat the odds and the Shaitans to the exit, then he had to make sure that they got all the support they needed to keep them bottled inside GC-2.
He had to get the Mules to those twelve as fast as possible, he had to get those men a reinforcement of at least another 12 Marines as fast as possible, and he had to get Sgt. Awiti out there as fast as possible. That was his priority in exact order. He started with the logistics of the Mules. The Mules had fallen many kilometers behind even the lagging group of runners.
There hadn’t been too much weight that had been lightened from the Mule in the first place, because the Mules had been thoughtfully packed with essentials for the battle. The load of suit armor and weapons of 83 Marines had been added to the 6 Mules on top of it. The Mules were pretty much maxed out, and it was a wonder that they were moving at all, climbing up the steady upslope at the pace that they were.
Lt. Odoyo realized that all the 12 Marines of advanced group required was just one Mule. He connected to Sgt. Omondi. “Kairu, I have a task for you. Take as many men from the lagging group with you as you like for the purpose. Slow down and let the Mules catch up with you. Put the armor and weapons of the 12 men of Tuwile’s group in one Mule and then lighten it by offloading anything else as much as required, such that the Mule should be able to reach the exit no later than 3 minutes after Tuwile. You should be able to locate their Armor quickly by using the IFF signals.
I will be sending another group of 12 men, about 10 minutes behind the advance group of Tuwile. You will see their IDs shortly on your schematics. No point sending them if they have no weapons and armor to fight, so load a second Mule with their armor and weapons and make sure that this second Mule reaches the second group at the same time as they exit.
Whatever you have offloaded from the two Mules can go into the other 4 Mules. If these 4 mules fall too far behind due to the extra load, then we will carry our weapons to lighten them. You got that Kairu?” Lt. Odoyo asked, because he had said all that huffing and puffing through his oxygen mask. He was not sure he himself would have understood every word he said. He had run just 10 Km out of the 100 and the strain had already started showing.
“Loud and clear sir. Falling back now and joining the lagging group.” Sgt. Omondi replied.
There were now just 13 Marines left in the group that had been leading until Tuwile and his group broke out ahead from within it. Lt. Odoyo asked these 13 Marines to pace themselves such that they arrived no later than 10 minutes after Tuwile and his group at the exit. Then Lt. Odoyo looked around his schematics for Sgt. Awiti.
Sgt. Jata Awiti had been feeling satisfied with the performance of her run so far. She was keeping pace with the middle group with was a good show. She couldn’t be expected to be with the lead group. She was doing far better than the only other woman in the Company, who was the absolute last person in the laggard group. She had to grudgingly admit in private to herself, that there were certain advantages to being a man, although she would have busted the balls of any Marine who suggested the same in public to her.
There were other irritants, if not disadvantages, to being a woman in such an overwhelmingly male unit. One was constantly fending off passes made by colleagues. Some were more irritating than others especially that jerk Sgt. Obama. The stupid fool did not even have the brains to fib properly.
It is one thing to claim being related to a famous historical president. To claim to be related to a president of the US! Well that takes the cake… If he had claimed a Kenyan presidential ancestry, Jata might even have looked up the net to check if it was true, and whether such a president existed. To claim US presidential relations for a Keny
an! It was not even worth bothering to look up the net.
Jata sighed, and realized that she was falling behind the middle group. She picked up her pace. She intended to be with this group all the way till the end. She had a point to prove to herself. Then Jata got the call from Lt. Odoyo, who explained what he wanted her to do.
Jata heard Lt. Odoyo, and then replied. “It will be done sir, but I have a request. Please don’t make me ride on the Mule sir!”
“But… Jata, be practical! You know that…” Lt. Odoyo protested, but was interrupted by Sgt. Awiti.
“I know that the odds are against me sir… I know it.” Jata said a bit bitterly. “But all my life I have been fighting with men, even my brothers and father, that women are no less than men… that I am no less than any man. You know how it is for a woman in Kenya sir, even within one’s own family.” Tears were freely flowing on her cheeks now. Thankfully the sweat was masking it.
“You don’t have to prove anything Jata. I, and every Marine accept you unconditionally as our own, and as equal.” Lt. Odoyo strained between his breaths to speak. Command was turning out to be more strenuous than a 100 Km. marathon.
“I know that sir, and that is why this is my home and family now. I did not come here to run away from poverty sir, my parents were well off. I came here to run away from a discriminatory society. I came here because I believe that I am as good as anyone else. I need to prove to myself that I not wrong and that my family and society were not right all along...
Please sir… I need to do it for myself, for my self-esteem… for what I believe makes it worthwhile to be alive. I promise you that I will not let myself collapse. I will not let my heart collapse or my veins burst before I finish the job. I will not let you down sir.” Jata pleaded.
Retribution (Shaitan Wars) Page 43
