And then there were thirty.
It wasn’t much of an army with which to try to save the world from both aliens and Zoms.
* * * *
Minutes later, the battle pod landed and the pilot opened the ramp in the back of the pod from within the cockpit, leaving the engines running. Two soldiers carried the first unconscious indigene down the ramp and dumped him on his back. He would wake shortly and the symptoms should manifest themselves by then. It was expected that he would make contact with other indigenes before the day was out.
It didn’t really matter whether he rejoined his own pack, or was killed by a rival pack and eaten. Either way, he would infect others. Hell, if he drowned in the rain, with his mouth open like that, and got eaten, it was just as good.
Fifteen of the twenty-three test subjects would be released outside the city in various areas where indigenes had been spotted in groups. The other eight would be released in parts of the city outside the protective barrier.
Within a day or two, the hyperallergy should have infected a significant percentage of the indigene population.
A few days after that, most of them would be dead.
Tomorrow, after the infernal rain stopped, they would begin darting “wild” indies with more of the virus to increase the exposure.
The pilot smiled. “Sometimes the ground-pounders have all the fun. Then again, they don’t get to do this.”
He raised the ramp, pumped the throttle, raised the ship to three hundred vorspeds elevation, and headed for the next drop zone.
* * * *
Commander FronCar was livid. “What do you mean a platoon is missing? Fifty-seven men can’t just disappear!”
He and his second-in-command, Battle Subcommander JesBronn, sat in FronCar’s quarters.
“It’s worse, sir,” JesBronn replied, “The platoon was looking for an enhanced squad that disappeared earlier.”
“Are you trying to tell me that we managed to lose eighty-four highly trained men?”
“No, sir, only sixty-seven.”
“Oh, ‘only’ sixty-seven.” FronCar’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “How nice. How in MemKar’s Pit did that happen, and why is it that I’m just hearing about this now?”
“Sir, when the enhanced squad of twenty-seven went missing, it was thought to be a run-in with the indigenes gone wrong. So, Regulator BlexJasp went after them with a platoon. He filed a report before he left, but with no urgency attached. He expected to return in a few hours. It wasn’t until hours later, when Subregulator FligJeen returned with sixteen men, that anyone realized BlexJasp and the rest of his platoon hadn’t returned or even checked in. His commanding officer, Unit Commander GlebTorl, debriefed FligJeen and learned that the platoon had chased suspected indigenes through a building and down to a subterranean transport tunnel. At that point, BlexJasp directed that FligJeen and half the surviving men pursue the suspected indigenes one way, while he and the other half went the other way.”
“’Surviving men’? And you keep saying ‘suspected’ indigenes. Why?”
“I asked him the same thing. He said that while they never actually saw any indigenes, there were booby traps set throughout the building that killed most of the men.”
FronCar pursed his lips in anger. “MemKar save us from incompetence. So, the other half of the ‘survivors’ of the booby-traps went the other way down the tunnel and disappeared into the mists, as it were. Is that the gist of it?”
“Yes, sir. GlebTorl was concerned that if he sent another platoon after the men that disappeared, the same fate might befall them as well. He contacted me for orders, and I thought you would want to know what is happening there.”
FronCar nodded. “Thank you, JesBronn. You were right to tell me. It looks like I’d better get back down there and find out what in MemKar’s Pit is going on.”
* * * *
The next morning, after the rain had gone and with it the pollen that had dusted all exposed surfaces, the air had the aroma of fresh growing things. It was barely dawn when Amanda led Uncle Jay by the hand through the open door. The other Zoms followed.
“Do you remember how to spell shoe?” she asked.
“Ess-aitchh-ohhh-wee.”
“That’s right! Okay, today we’re all gonna get new shoes. This is a shoe store, but we don’t have to pay anymore.” She grinned as if they’d all understand the joke.
Although the store had been looted, like most others, there wasn’t as much demand for new shoes as there was for food and medicines. Many of the shelves were still full.
Most of the Zoms were barefoot, having worn through or lost their shoes over the past year and a half. Thick callouses helped but didn’t replace shoes when it came to walking across broken glass. Most of The Pack had scars on their feet from previous wounds.
“Okay, everybody, let’s find you some shoes!” She led Uncle Jay to the men’s section and left him there while she took Aunt Suzi to the women’s section.
“Okay, look for shoes in your size,” she announced to The Pack, or at least the eleven who were left after various battles with other packs and the golden people.
The Zoms stood around, not sure what they were supposed to do.
“Here, let me show you, Uncle Jay.” She pointed to a box with size nine shoes.
He took it down and handed it to her.
She opened it and took out a shoe. “Here, try this on.” She pantomimed pulling on the shoe.
Jay tried to put his bare foot inside, while the others watched. It wouldn’t fit.
“Okay, try that one, the one with a 10 on the box.” She pointed.
“Tehhn.” He reached for the box and then opened it.
“That’s right. Try it on.”
He did, and this time he got his foot in.
“Can you wiggle your toes?”
“Toes. Tee-ohhh-eee-essss. Toes.”
“That’s right! Can you wiggle them? Like this.” She took off her shoes and torn socks and demonstrated.”
Jay shook his head.
“Okay, let’s try a 10 ½. That one.” She pointed.
He took down the box and tried the shoe on for size. It fit. He grinned. “Wih-gul.”
“That’s great. Now can you tie the shoelace?”
He stared at her. “T-tye?”
“Like this.” She demonstrated how to do it, with the bunny rabbit going around and into the hole, but he didn’t get it.
“That’s okay. They have loafers, too. That one.”
This time, he got the shoe on and when it fit he didn’t have to mess with shoelaces. He put on the matching shoe and walked around in them.
“Shoooos!” He grinned at the others, who then set about ransacking the store looking for loafers that fit their filthy feet.
“Hmm,” Amanda said. “Maybe we better look for some socks, too.”
* * * *
BlexJasp’s replacement, Platoon Regulator MorvPlen, rode in the back of the vehicle with his men. He felt he got a better idea of what the men went through than if he sat inside the vehicle all day with just the driver. That, and he wanted a crack at the filthy indigenes.
By this time, news of what had happened to BlexJasp and the others had spread throughout the soldiers groundside. They all seethed with anger and looked forward to the chance to kill as many indies as possible.
If MorvPlen couldn’t get a crack at the actual indies who killed all those men, including his friend ChibNorl, at least he could take pleasure in darting other indies with the virus that would ultimately kill untold millions of them.
And here comes three of them.
He stood and raised the dart gun to his shoulder.
Chapter Eighteen
FronCar, still annoyed at having had to return to the surface only hours after his last visit, stood inside the temporary command center set up by Unit Commander GlebTorl weeks ago. It wasn’t fancy, but it was spacious enough for the needs of the dozens of people supervising the colonization effort.
The large windows, shattered at some point in the past, had been replaced with the sturdy transparent polymer used by the Drahtch for that purpose.
The indigene trash had been hauled away and replaced with all of the technology needed to run a command center. People scurried about looking busy, and perhaps they were. After all, FronCar was here to find out what was going on under the city in those tunnels.
He watched the multiple holographic images transmitted from the helmets of the various hunting parties. FronCar wasn’t about to let another fiasco like the BlexJasp one happen again.
There were now hundreds of troops scouring the tunnels from one end to the other for indigenes. Once secured, the tunnels would be sealed off. The indies would no longer be able to use them to move about unseen.
If any “smart” indies lived down there, they wouldn’t be alive for long, even with their projectile weapons. As for the other kind, well, those vermin would be taken care of, one way or another. If the troops didn’t kill them, the virus almost certainly would.
It wouldn’t be long now before the first indies began dropping from the hyperallergy.
* * * *
Geoff and Daniels had lunch together in the dank basement where the humans were holed up. It stank of mildew and had puddles along one wall. It had seemed like a decent place to live in temporarily when it was scouted two days earlier—but that was before the rain exposed the leaks around the window.
But they were here now and they had to figure out what to do next.
“Well, we can’t use the subway tunnels anymore, now that the aliens know about them,” Daniels said.
“Damn straight.”
“Moose has been saying for months that it was time to hightail it for greener pastures. I think I finally agree with him. The aliens are buttoning up the city neighborhood by neighborhood, and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. They’ll find us sooner or later if we hang around much longer.”
Geoff nodded. “I concur. We’re done here. All we can hope to do is slink out of town with our tails between our legs and hope we don’t get spotted. Pisses me off, though. This is our town, our planet. They have no right!”
“Hey, I feel the same way. But it’s a cold, cruel galaxy out there. Might makes right. They have the might, so they have the right. Doesn’t mean I like it any better than you do.”
“So, we’re agreed. It’s time to leave. The big question now is how do we do it?”
“I’ve been think about it, but I don’t have any great answers. Obviously, the fastest and easiest way would be to take some cars or a bus and drive off. The problem is, if we’re seen, it’ll be obvious that we’re not aliens, and they’ll hit us with everything they’ve got. On the other hand, we could walk out, but that’s really slow and dangerous. Too many Zoms out there to be wandering around unprotected, with no guarantee of finding a safe shelter at night. And we have kids and seniors with us who can’t move fast or walk far. And if a column of people get spotted by aliens, then we’re even more exposed than if we’re in a bus, with nowhere to go.”
“So what do y’all suggest, then?” Geoff asked.
“Well, I said I didn’t have any great answers. I didn’t say I didn’t have an answer. But it sure wouldn’t be my first choice.”
“And what’s that?”
“We need a fast-moving vehicle to get away in. But as I said, any car, truck, or bus we use would stick out like a sore thumb. So we need a vehicle that won’t stick out.”
Geoff frowned. “I don’t follow. What would that be?”
“We need to steal an alien vehicle.”
“Steal—? You insane, boy? They don’t exactly leave them things parked at the curb with the keys in the ignition.”
“I’ve noticed. I said it wouldn’t be my first choice. It won’t be easy. Hell, it might get us all killed. But I don’t see a better alternative, do you?”
Geoff thought for a few seconds, before sighing. “No…but even if we’re crazy enough to try it, how do y’all propose we drive off in the thing? We have no idea how the technology works, let alone how to start it, steer, brake, and so on.”
Daniels shrugged. “I don’t think it matters how the technology works. You don’t have to understand internal combustion engines to drive a minivan. Besides, I figure if the things are designed to be driven by soldiers, rather than scientists or engineers, they’d probably want to make them idiot-proof, like we do with most of the general-purpose weapons. You make a gun too hard to fire, reload, or clean, and someone’s gonna get killed because of it. So, we kill the troops riding on one, and figure out how to use it when we get there.”
Geoff sighed again. “I hope yore right. We could lose a bunch of people in the attempt. So, what happens if instead of a key to start it they use biometrics—like a thumbprint or voice or retinal eye scan? Then we’re screwed.”
“True, but I doubt they’d do anything like that. What if the driver is killed? The other soldiers would have to be able to drive it. And I can’t see them setting up every vehicle to recognize every soldier. Too much bother. No, I think it’ll be pretty simple to start and operate. We just have to figure out how, pretty quickly, before any reinforcements arrive, and then hotfoot it out of town.”
“I sure hope you’re right. Have you thought about the fact that the alien trucks aren’t big enough to hold thirty of us?”
“Yeah, that’s a problem. But if we drop everything but weapons, and everyone stands in the back, I think we can just fit everyone. We only have to get to the next hole-in-the-wall town where we can hotwire some other vehicles and then we’re in business.”
“Sounds like y’all have an answer for everything.”
Daniels laughed. “Not even close. We’ll be winging it every step of the way.”
“Then we better get started plannin’ how we’re gonna wing it.”
* * * *
“I think we just found some of those so-called smart indies they’ve been talking about.” The driver pointed ahead.
On the sidewalk, a bonfire burned bright. Sticks crackled and fiery ashes floated off into the sky.
Subregulator SlokZerl spoke into his communicator to the seven men in the back of the open vehicle. “Fan out in pairs. I’ll be joining you. Start on the side with the fire. If we find nothing, we’ll cross the street and look there. Keep your wits about you.” He turned to the driver. “Wait here. This shouldn’t take long.”
They jumped out of the vehicle and joined the others. SlokZerl pointed at two of the soldiers to go left and the rest to go right.
Before they could do more than turn to face the houses beyond the bonfire, the windows lit up with flashes: muzzle flashes from various weapons.
As he fell, mortally wounded, he thumbed his radio. “Alert, alert. SlokZerl here.” He coughed and attempted to clear his lungs of blood. “Indies—” He paused for a wracking cough. “Weapo—” That was as far as he got before a shotgun blast took off half his face.
Seconds later, the driver took two rifle shots to the chest as he exited the vehicle to defend his colleagues.
* * * *
“They’re down! Everyone converge on the truck. Now!” Daniels, now outside, windmilled his free arm to hurry everyone along. He ran to the driver’s side of the vehicle.
As they passed the downed aliens, two of them still twitching, several of the humans took another shot. They, too, had lost friends and family to the aliens.
“Everybody on board. Hurry! Don’t waste ammo.”
He jumped into the driver’s seat and stared at the controls. “Holy shit.”
There were no buttons, dials, or knobs. Just a shiny black surface. Now what?
Chrissy slid next to him from the other side. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”
“Um, this may be a bit trickier than I thought. I have no idea how to start it. Or even where to start it.” He pondered what to do next.
“Touch it. Maybe it’s pressure-sensitive or heat-sensitiv
e, or something.”
He touched it with the tip of a finger. Then he tried his palm. Then swiping a finger across the surface. Nothing. He looked at Chrissy. “Any other ideas?”
She shrugged. “Hell if I know. Just do something. Try waving your hand over it.
He did and then jumped in his seat when a 3D holographic image appeared above the surface. It was in the shape of a cube with nine cubes within it, stacked three by three by three.
“Cool,” Chrissy said.
“Now what?” His hand hovered indecisively.
“Jeez, ya baby. Scoot over and let me try.”
He jumped out of the vehicle and went around to the other side as Chrissy took his place.
She pointed a finger inside the big cube at the small one in the center. The display changed to a sort of control panel with unidentified lights on it. Al least, not identifiable in English. Squiggles appeared to float above and below the indicator lights. “Probably markings that identify the lights in alienish.”
She pointed at one light and moved her finger up and down. The roof-mounted lights brightened and dimmed.
“Cool,” she repeated. She tried a few more lights, then waved away the hologram and started over with the original cube. She played with those virtual controls for a moment to see what they did as well. Then she tried another cube and played with those controls.”
“How do know how to do all that stuff?”
“It’s pretty intuitive, once you figure out the paradigm. Didn’t you ever play VR games as a kid?”
“Sure, immersive virtual reality projected onto goggles, not actual holograms with some sort of gesture-sensitive 3D interface. This is way beyond me.”
“It’s kinda fun, actually. Give me a few more minutes and I’ll have the hang of this.”
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