“I think because we were born longer ago than she was,” Ella laughed at me. “That is how age works.”
“No, I mean, well, why are none of you officers, and she is? I would guess some of you would be officers by now. What is that about?” I replied.
Lazlo answered. “We were police officers in Styx until the aliens… sorry, the Jellies – I do like that name – it is the perfect name, by the way. Well, we were police before they invaded. Then we volunteered for the MDF, and here we are. We were already serving as troops, and we survived that debacle. Battle-hardened troops are scarce and hard to find. Officers, on the other hand, were in training when that debacle happened.”
The funicular bulkhead door was also sealed with the nine-section color control pad, as well as the crudely welded on key lock. Lazlo again unlocked both and we walked out past the exterior hull of the Marathon.
“You cannot see the Jellie’s ship from here,” Kensington said. “It is on the far side of Foreigner.”
“If it is the only one,” Prezsky added in with a somber tone.
“Ship?” I asked.
Before us stood clear permalloy walls and ceiling. It felt like we were standing on the edge of a huge building, but I knew it was the view from the hull. The black curtain of space, sprinkled with its twinkling stars was visible, but so were other parts of the Marathon. I had seen it in simulations, and it looked no different now. The bulkhead door shut behind us, and an alert tone chirped several times. A display lit up across the clear permalloy with a flashing message, “WARNING: THIS VEHICLE IS NOT FUNCTIONING AS DESIGNED. RIDE AT YOUR OWN RISK”
“Machine Maintenance refuses to remove the warnings, even though we have been over this how many times?” Prezsky commented. Her voice held scorn. “Broken lattice, dumb machines.”
What had been the wall behind us sealed over with clear permalloy. Then gravity manipulation took hold, and the compartment we were in moved. It was not as profound a movement as inside the GAGS, but still significant. The whole cuboidal cabin shifted and tipped into position as it locked down onto the treads on the track. We made a ninety-degree tip, and in a way, were now perpendicular to the Marathon’s hull. My mind quickly adjusted to what was now up and what was down, and what was sideways. The vehicle then sped away, as we watched the vista of the hull of the needle ship. Above us was mostly the Styx habitat, and it was enormous. The needle ship was long and skinny in comparison to the more squatty cylinder of Styx. In the distance, I could see portions of some of the other habitats as well. Of course, not all were visible. I wanted to see Kansas, even just from the exterior, but I knew it was not visible from that location. Just that fact made me sad.
The vehicle sped up and raced along the tracks, winding between the structures of the hull. I held onto the handrail which was at about waist height. The journey was not long, as the vehicle made good speed, and soon we came to the distal connection of one of the large constituent joints which connected the giant cylinder of Styx to the needle ship.
The vehicle tipped again, shifting smoothly as gravity manipulation altered my orientation. The side again became the floor, and the doorway opened. We left the funicular and headed the short distance to where the Blue Tigers had set up the barricade.
“We will relieve the other squads and…” Lazlo was interrupted by the ringing of alarm bells. They sounded like they were ringing right next to me, but it was being transmitted through my ear patches.
“Incursion in 27Y!” Prezsky called out, with a normal voice.
The others sprinted off, and I followed.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire sounded from head of us.
My transceiver chest component slipped out as I ran. I stopped briefly to reconnect it in, and that made the difference. The wall right near where I was stopped, started to bulge inward. I knew permalloy was not supposed to do that. It was astonishing, so I leaped back a few meters, and brought up the bullpup.
An irritating purplish glow pulsed from the wall. It was like light was being forced through the super-hard metal, yet I could not comprehend how that could be. Opaque permalloy was tough stuff. It was different than I had ever seen. I dismissed the idea that the purple was some kind of shadow, or part of an informational display, or signage, or viewport. Permalloy should not bulge, and that light hurt my eyes. Then the wall sort-of melted right before me, in a roughly circular shape. Brownish goo oozed down, mixing with the newly liquefied permalloy.
“I need help here!” I screamed. I tapped my transceiver to send.
The purplish light intensified, and had an eye stinging bluish tone to it. The light cast about the corridor was not normal, but left after-glows on my mind as well as my eyes.
A thin, ropelike…something, whipped out from the expanding hole in the wall. It too was purplish, but was sort-of fuzzy or unfocused. My eyes smarted as I looked at it.
“Jellies!” I screamed.
I toggled my bullpup’s switch to ‘B’ and let fly a burst of bullets.
Bruup! Bruup!
My aim was true, and the rounds ripped into the purplish, long, whip thing. I saw them strike, and some parts splattered off, but that thing drew back quickly. Then a huge circular mass stomped into the corridor. The bluish-purple glow was intense, and my eyes were smarting, watering and just plain painful.
Bruup! Bruup! Bruup!
I fired several more bursts as I leaped back and away. I stumbled, and that mishap saved my life. A whip of purple snapped through the air right where I had been standing. I felt the air rush past my face, but that whip missed me, barely. A foul odor was left in its wake. The side wall was struck. Plaster, metals, and other materials were ripped from the permalloy underneath the veneer.
I rolled backward into a prone position and fired again.
Bruup! Bruup!
The purple thing was about two or three meters tall, and roughly oval or oblong, sort-of like a pumpkin or gourd. It had four stumpy legs beneath it, and they were holding it up and moving it ahead. It was walking, sort-of. Its purple glow was irritating, and I thought I could see something moving around within that glow. I concentrated my fire on the center of the thing. I saw a blur of movement, and some kind of long skinny thing again whipped out from the purple blob. My bullets tore into that appendage.
Teewank!
Something extremely cold exploded next to me on the floor. My face felt frozen, and I rolled away.
Teewank! Teewank! More icy detonations took place in the corridor, as I rolled away. Freezing shards flew all around.
“Keep down!” Someone yelled from behind me. Or maybe it was on my transceiver.
Plop!
I knew that sound from so many simulations. It was too close to me. I covered my ears and put my face to the floor.
Kaboom!
An explosion took place and the corridor rocked with the noise, debris, movement, and concussive waves. Lights flickered overhead, and everything was a jumble.
I grabbed my bullpup, and rolled away from where the worst sounds were. I could not tell what was happening. As I looked around, the hole in the sidewall was a misty cloud of smoke and dust. Nothing purple, or blue, or strange. Well, besides having a grenade go off somewhere in the back of that hole. I looked for the thing, but all that remained were some gooey chunks which were wiggling about as they slid down the nearest wall. Their purplish color faded quickly as they pooled into clumps of tan gel.
“You alive?” Someone yelled in my direction.
I looked back, and forth, trying to see the thing which had melted its way through a permalloy wall. It was gone. Not much for remains, and certainly not a body or chassis or mechanism. My mind was jarred about as I wondered if I was looking for a creature or a machine or what?
Some soldiers I did not recognize rushed past me. They were wearing goggles-like things and had ear pads in place. The first two were armed with bullpups like mine, and they took up positions around the hole. One had her hands on the grenade la
uncher, and she looked like she was ready to fire another one into the tunnel in the wall.
Behind them came two more troops, one had a canister on his back. He began to spray liquefied permalloy around the hole. Another soldier was throwing meter-long rods across the opening in a haphazard manner, while the other applied the permalloy. It reminded me of rose bushes and their prickly thorns. However, here it was solid permalloy rods which were sunk into the newly sprayed liquid permalloy, bonding it all together as it solidified and hardened. It was a messy and hasty repair, but they were fast. Soon the hole was covered over, with what looked like a permalloy cocklebur.
“Kalju?”
I heard my name, and looked back. Lazlo and the other soldiers I knew were there. His face was startled, and he was limping. His bullpup was in one hand.
“Kalju? How badly hurt are you?” Lazlo asked.
“I am unhurt. What happened?” I replied.
Ella came up next to me. She patted me on the shoulder. “You went toe-to-toe with an alien. With one of your Jellies, and lived! I am impressed!”
“Who?” I gestured toward the other soldiers.
“These troops are Ten-Squad, and we are lucky we were all here together,” Lazlo stated.
“Check the seal we made over that hole, and then put vacuum between the panels!” the soldier with the rods yelled out.
“Got it!” Someone else was opening an access panel on the wall, and fiddling with some controls.
I stepped back, and looked around. I was afraid to see dead bodies, but there were none.
“Corporal Lazlo, we have this last breech sealed now,” the man with the canister stated. “Good thing too, as this patching compound is nearly exhausted. The enemy broke through in four places.” He hooked a thumb at the hole nearby. “This one being the nearest to the needle ship.
“A Jellie out of the water?” I asked.
Canister-man looked at me, then back at Lazlo. “Did the kid hit his head?”
I interjected, “Not this time. I thought the Jellies were marine animals, like giant jellyfish, right? Live in the water.”
He dropped the handle on the canister and looked at me more closely. “You trying to bamboozle me? You saying you got close enough to one of the aliens to see its unaided form? You saw a naked alien? Out of its armored carapace?”
“No one does that and lives,” one of the other soldiers stated.
Lazlo’s voice carried out. “He was in Foreigner, and he was with that group of scientists we keep hearing rumors about. His team came out with the scientists. They called the aliens the Jellies, and I am pretty sure they know what they saw. He checks out.”
Canister-man whistled. “I thought the stories of someone being able to talk to the aliens were just myths and legends. Hey kid, so you can talk to the aliens? Converse with these things you call Jellies?”
“Tell the aliens to commit suicide!” A troop from Ten-Squad called out. She was holding her bullpup, and looking down the corridor toward where the connections to Styx were located.
“Or just go away!” Someone else yelled out, but added some very colorful sexually explicit profanities.
“I never said I actually talked to them. The oceanographers had…” I tried to explain, but the transceiver on my chest began flashing an alert.
“All squads! Attention!” the LT’s voice came though. “Attention! We have had breakthroughs in three of the eight joints. Each incursion was stopped. Well done troops! However, no one leaves. Rotation is cancelled.”
The members of Ten-Squad all groaned, but from what I could see, none of them were surprised.
“Keep alert, and good hunting!” The LT stated. “We did not see any attempts at flooding this go-round, so these—Jellies—are using some new tactics. Keep them out men and women. Keep them out!”
“Come on, I need to refill the patching compound,” Canister-man stated. “Eight-Squad, spread out and take point, unless you are hurt.” He looked over at me. It was only then I realized that there was some blood running down my face. I had been wounded on the same side as my scar. I felt my face and discovered some small puncture wounds, which stung a bit as I touched them. Looking down, I saw my battle armor had torn in a few places, but none of the frozen projectiles had pierced it.
“I am not incapacitated,” I stated, as I rubbed a healing towel across my face. It dried up the blood, and sealed the wounds. It took only a moment.
Canister-man nodded, “Listen up! Ten-Squad, cover the rear, but we are tightening this place down. I mean down! Make sure to arm up and be ready. We got zero warning on that last one, be ready for another. Looks like these aliens, these Jellies, have shifted out of the flooded tubes and into the corridors. We know they love their sludge, but they are now coming out to play in the air. Seal up everything. If you can, decompress the compartments behind where they broke through. Shut down gravity manipulation back there too, where you can. Let they try to survive in that next time they open a wall. I hope it is a fun surprise.”
“Maybe spread the Jellie all over, right?” Some called out.
“Right! Just make a big squish!” Someone replied and hustled off behind me.
I looked at Lazlo, and he shrugged his shoulders. “He is senior corporal, so listen to his orders. We are in this together.”
I never did find out the name of soldier I called, Canister-man. We all hustled along and as we passed bulkhead doors which led to side passageways, we slammed them shut and locked them off. Not everyplace could be depressurized, but I guess about half of them could be. We did that. As we worked, I looked around and there were eleven of us.
Prezsky, Ella, and Kensington kept near me, at first, and did not let me get separated from them. I wondered about that, but was still reviewing what I had seen. It was the same purplish color I had watched under the water, but it had much more form and substance.
“Lazlo, it had four legs, and I think two appendages up front,” I commented.
Before he could answer, Canister-man jumped in. “Typical, but that is not always the case. These aliens seem to be using some kind of a flexible – I am not sure what to call it – an enviro-suit, or something. Tough and hard, a carapace. We saw some were just round balls, but others had arms and legs sprouting wherever. You did good kid. You laid several bursts right into it.”
“So, I killed it?”
“No, but you slowed it down some, so we could hit it with a grenade. Our bullpups will tear chunks out of their skins—exteriors?—but they seal really fast. These Jellies have strong tech stuff, but ripping into their suits, well, that does not seem to kill them. The grenades annoy them enough they retreat.” Then he tapped his goggles. “Oh wow! I bet you did not even see that. Not in their purple glare. Not with bare eyes you did not. Oh, we need to get you some eye coverings. Come along. We have been using the ESRCs as storage drops for ammo and other supplies. Check those out, and grab a set of tinted safety glasses. First time they came through a wall, a few days ago, it was with a flood of their sludge, but that terrible glow of theirs is hard on the eyes. We find these safety glasses help block it out.”
“So, you are still getting supplies?” Lazlo asked.
“Yes, some. We send in orders, but every Reproduction and Fabrication facility is way slow. We lost the ones in Styx and Foreigner, and the other six are trying to play catchup. Every R-and-F is backed up, trying to replace all the security automacubes which were lost, not to mention vodnees, and everything else.” He said R-and-F so fast it took me a moment to know what he was talking about. He went on, “Sure, they take our requests, but delivery is spotty, and may come from any of the other six R-and-Fs. We still can access a gravity conduit, which brings us some stuff, but only intermittently. Machine Maintenance is not much better, but they at least tap into existing supplies of spare parts and such. Like the safety glasses. These safety glasses were in storage, in case that future destination world of ours had too much sunshine, hah! But we were able to get them shipped
here. Not perfect, but better than bare-eyed.”
He walked over to a cabinet in the wall. It had previously been an ESRC, with the standard resources typically stored there, but now it held racks of bullpup ammunition, grenades, and at the bottom, near the fire suppression equipment, were several cartons of what I called goggles. They were marked, “One set safety glasses with eye shields: tinted” on the side of the carton.
Canister-man grabbed a carton and tossed it to me. “They will not protect you from much but the light. I have put in orders to get some real helmets to protect our heads, ears, eyes, and whatever, but R and F has it backlisted for production. Offensive weapons get top priority, defenses are backed up. Food gets sent in regularly.”
I pulled on the safety glasses, and they had a flexible band which snugged up against my head. They covered most of my eyes, and looked to be the kind that automatically adjusted to glare, bright light, and those kinds of things.
Battle On The Marathon Page 26
