The last Jellie to be pulled out was the wobbling one. I got in on doing that, and when it was pulled free, the last thing it did with its disgusting tentacles, was to project some kind of signal. That signal screeched over all our communication gear. I thought my ears would disintegrate from the shrill and piercing noises. But then, even more troubling than that confounded noise, was the phrase, “Gas breathers die!”
I thought it was some hallucination, but every single one of the Bilokos heard that same message. Yes, the Jellie had spoken to us. Our communication links—every set of reactive armor—had been fried by that Jellie’s last act.
Well, that, my dear Ryan, was how we acquired seven Jellie carapace suits. They were mostly intact—well they were damaged, but better than anything we had ever captured before—and I had no idea how important that battle by the bridge in Bread really was.
7
The Long Journey
It has been a while since added to this log report. The Major and I had to use excessive force to get something done, and while it worked, I still find that distasteful. Well, maybe not as much as I would have once. Oh, Ryan, of course the Major is right in what is happening, no question about that. It just has taken much more than we expected. The big jump is coming together, but getting these mixed technologies to work is tough. Thankfully Samuels and Stridell are geniuses at that stuff.
As I review what I recorded, I see that I did not relate the fate of Bread. To be brief, the enzymatic detergent did what it was supposed to do. It would have been nice to see how it would have all worked out.
Well, we manually hauled those seven Jellie suits out of Bread by using that wagon. Without the organic Jellie inside it, the carapace shell could be folded down as long as there was sufficient brown gunk inside it to lubricate it. The wagon was overloaded, sure it was, but we made it out of Bread, by pulling it by hand into Arcadia. We exited through that abandoned town of Arcadia and into the shell. Once in the shell Lieutenant Gonzales contacted her superiors via communication systems built into the shell. It was not the lattice of compeers, as the nonphysicality was still smashed, but Lieutenant Gonzales did make contact with MC001. Adams, of course, was still somewhere on the needle ship.
“Kalju? We have been ordered to take our trophies to Journey,” Lieutenant Gonzales informed me. She had removed her helmet and spoke quietly to me directly, face-to-face. “MC001 consulted with IAM Lenore, and neither has any idea how the communication links in our armor can be repaired. Samuels figures it was from that sonic weapon that last Jellie hit us with, and I concur. But we are back to yelling and listening.”
“Yes, ma’am we are,” I laughed a bit.
“We will have to walk this stuff to Journey, as no transport is available,” she added what I already suspected to be the case.
“Evans’ horses died as heroes. And we can still use his wagon. There are thirty-eight of us to pull it,” I replied. I bit my lip as I said that number. Not because of the number itself so much but because I could not remember all the names of the dead we had left behind in Bread. Lieutenant Gonzales has those names memorized, and I admire her for that.
She looked into my eyes, and I think she understood. “It will take us several days of travel through the back corridors. Send out scouts to find what food and supplies we can glean from these corridors. The Bread inhabitants probably took most everything, but see what our people can find.” She started to turn away.
“Lieutenant? Did the dwellers here go to Journey as well?”
“No so much. Most of those dwellers were escorted to Chicago by the Bread soldiers—the Bakers. They saved a lot of their people. And no, I did not learn more about Kansas when I interfaced with MC001 or IAM Lenore. I will tell you when I do learn anything about that. However, in Journey, we will be meeting some old associates of yours, Sylvia and Earle. They want to run tests on what we captured.”
“So, that is why are we going to Journey. Did they have any idea about that Jellie who talked to us?”
“Kalju, I heard that message, and you heard that. I know that is right. We all heard that, but I did not tell MC001 or IAM Lenore about it. Nor did I report it the other officers over us.” She did not say Adams’ name. “You will not tell them either. Understand? Our orders are to take these carapace remains to those oceanographers you once knew. You told me they figured out how some whales talked to the Jellies, right? Those oceanographers are the first people we are going to tell about that message we all heard. We run it past them first. What do you think Colonel Caldwell would do if she heard about this?”
I nodded my head, but my thoughts were swirling.
“Or Gehlen, or… Adams? Do you think they would take it seriously, or what? Kalju, some things we take up the chain of command, and some things we evaluate on our own and decide if those leaders need to know it or not,” Lieutenant Gonzales stated. “The proper care and feeding of ‘superior officers’ is a delicate affair.”
Startled, I responded with some sputtering, “So, I should not always report everything to you?” I was honestly wondering what exactly to do.
“Do you report every bit of minutia to me? Of course, not. I trust you to report significant things to me, and I in return report what I know to you. It is a mutually supportive relationship, even though I have the final say. Sure, the fact that the Jellie know our language, and were somehow able to ruin our communication links and couplings is important. The upper echelon already knows about the sonic weapons and interferences. What have they told us? Nothing! So, I want to get to the bottom of this, and not let it be handled by incompetent bureaucrats, trigger-happy loose cannons, or people who should still be in suspended animation. When we know how this works, and how to counteract it, then we will report it. This is too important to be botched by bunglers.” Lieutenant Gonzales had never been more intense in her speech. “Our lives depend on getting this right.”
“But what about…” I started to ask, but then remembered Adams and what he did to Marie. Did I really want him making decisions? And the twin nincompoop colonels, Caldwell and Gehlen, well, I just did not trust them at all. Perhaps had they ever told me about my lost friends, or my family back in Kansas, I would have had some measure of respect for them. But after what they had done, especially Adams, I agreed with Lieutenant Gonzales. But then I reconsidered, “Should the artificial intelligences know? They are logical, efficient, and trustworthy. Or am I missing something?”
“Kalju, they may already know. I am not sure how much they monitor the reactive armor and our communication systems. Seriously, even Samuels is not clear on that. With the lattice in tatters, it is a mess. I have limited access to those AIs. You have even more limited access. If I just feed the information there, through these general population links in the needle ship, well, I am not sure it is any different than turning it directly all over to Colonel Caldwell to be debated on forever, or giving it to Major Adams so he can run amok yet again. Also, there is no encryption or security on these intercoms. None.”
I must have had a bewildered look on my face, for Lieutenant Gonzales reached out and stroked by eyebrow—the one with the scar. She said, “What if the Jellies are listening in somehow? We will discuss it with those oceanographers, in person, first. They should be better able to tell us what happened. Otherwise I feel like we are throwing away a golden opportunity to win some of these battles. You and Samuels did not ask those bureaucrats to grant their sanctified permission before you used those Jellie weapons against the Jellies. And that saved all of us.”
“I am with you in this. We do this together,” I replied. I knew I trusted Gonzales more than anyone else I had met since Mister Fisher. I remembered one of his idioms, “We will win this together.”
The journey to Journey did take time, about three days and two nights. Our scouts found some food stuffs in ESRCs, but that was suspended animation stored foods, and not like regular cooking. We ate while we walked, and the slept at night. Although, what I counted as a
night was a four-hour sleep period between our long walks. We moved along the corridors and hallways getting into remote sections of the needle ship as we traversed its length to reach the habitat known as Journey. Typically, the needle ship had only the flight crew stationed on its great length. There were only a few small biomes on the needle ship, and they were used for recreational parks, exercise areas, or rarely as supplemental gardens. Virtually all the food consumed by the thousand-person flight crew was hauled in from the eight biological habitats. Well, that was how it was during normal space flight. It was a good system, but no colony ship designer had ever anticipated the Marathon being invade by alien enemies. And the Jellies were a supremely malevolent and hostile alien species.
I counted it lucky that the dwellers from Bread had left any supplies behind as they moved toward Chicago.
Several times each day, Lieutenant Gonzales made progress reports about our trek through the needle ship. She did that at various locations along the way where she could jack into access panels and directly send in verbal reports via the public intercom. In normal times, the lattice of compeers would have been monitoring us, and those artificial intelligence systems would have been available at just a call from anywhere. Normally we could have used any number of slide-ways to move quickly from place to place. However, on that trip, we were isolated. Machinery was broken, and connections were severed. If the Jellies found our group, we had no way to immediately summon aid or assistance. It was disconcerting, but that was a feeling which was becoming more and more my new state of normalcy.
After one report, I asked, “Lieutenant Gonzales? Are we getting any replacement parts for the reactive armor? There are a couple of gravity conduits ahead on our route. Ammunition supplies are adequate, but the lack of communication links is a prime hindrance to our efficiency.”
“Yes, it is. I agree. However, even though they know our status, they tell me, ‘No replacement supplies are available at this time’. That, Sergeant Kalju, is yet another reason why we need to get to Journey quickly. They have not said it, but something else is happening. Something big. That old idiom, ‘no new is good news’ is a lie. When I do not get news from my superiors, it almost always means something bad is happening. Operation Barnacle is a prime example of that. We still have not gotten the full story on all that, but you know as well as anyone about seeking information and being denied.”
And so, we pressed on. About midday on the third day we reached one of the constituent joints which led to the Journey biome. There we met a squad of the Journey Jabberwocks.
“Halt and be recognized!” an amplified voice came from a barrier which was across the corridor about a hundred meters away.
“We are the Biloko coming from Bread bringing specimens to Journey,” Lieutenant Gonzales yelled back.
“Why have you failed to reply to our transmissions?”
“All our communication systems were knocked out. I will meet you in the middle up here for your inspection, if you wish?” she called back.
“You have Jellie remains?”
“Not the remains of the organic creatures, just their exterior technology, their shells,” Lieutenant Gonzales called back.
“Huh? I did not think there was a difference,” the other trooper called back. “I just checked with MC001 and you are cleared. I must see this thing you have.”
“Things, seven of them.”
The trooper emerged from behind the barricade. He, and several others, were outfitted in reactive armor which was much like our own—except I assumed their communication links were still functional—but they had them set to an odd form of camouflage. The splotched colors were green, browns, and some bright yellows. I wondered how effective that would be, but did not ask. The leader, the man who spoke, had a similar color pattern, but instead of the bright yellows, his had stripes of bright purple. It mimicked the purple of the Jellie’s glowing light.
“We are the Journey Jabberwocks. I am Commander Terrance.” On his should was an emblem with a dragon-like cartoon image. I assumed that was some artist’s rendition of that fabled Jabberwock from that old story. For a moment, I smiled and was thankful to Mister Fisher for making us read all those strange old books.
Commander Terrance walked down the corridor toward our wagon. His weapons were very similar to what we carried, although I did not see too many amvex grenades, as his armor had more flaps over what was in his pouches. “Never seen a dead Jellie up close. We have killed some, though. I thought this hard shell was their skin, and the slimy, tentacled stuff inside was their version of intestines and guts.”
“Pleased to officially meet you. I am Lieutenant Gonzales.” They shook hands, and slapped shoulders. I was unsure where that rank ‘commander’ fell in the chain of command, but Gonzales and Terrance were treating each other as equals. That was good enough for me.
The other Jabberwocks followed up and closely examined what was on our wagon. Samuels gave a brief overview, including the fact that the Jellies had used some kind of sonic weapon to knock out our communication links and couplings.
“We heard about that. Rumors say some of these Jellies are sending out verbal messages as well, but they have not talked to me,” Commander Terrance said with a scoff that was part doubt, part mystery. He pulled off his helmet. He was older than I expected, but had a kind face. “MC001 says we are to escort you to the lake where the scientists are working. We have food supplies, and water. Water is a problem in Journey, as the Jellies have poisoned much of it. We have filters installed in the lake, rivers, and the subterranean river. The Jellies have occupied the stern half of Journey, but we are containing them.”
Several yellow transport automacubes rolled up from behind the barricade. They took over for the soldiers who were pulling the wagon. I wished they were the beautiful horses that Evan the Drayman had, but then I recalled that he and his horses were killed, and I never said goodbye or even saw their bodies. The faces of Kulm, Bartlet, Timofei, Jane, Brett, Pilliroog, Kulm, and even Marie showed in my mind’s eye. I brushed tears away and did not care if anyone saw them.
The constituent joint was in far better repair than the one I had patrolled so much. We passed quickly along that, even moving through a large GAGS. As we did, Commander Terrance kept up a commentary about what was happening in Journey.
“We engineered dams and dikes to stop water from heading into occupied territory. The Jellies’ advance was halted by our deploying amvex grenades as mine fields in a two-hundred-meter-wide strip across the whole biome. We considered putting sound emitters around them, to hopefully scare off the wildlife, but sadly the Jellies have already killed off almost anything living in the part of Journey they occupy.” He added some very profane descriptions of the Jellies. I knew how he felt.
“So, the Jellies occupy the lowlands, and you have stopped water from flowing down there. Trying to dry them out. Good idea,” Lieutenant Gonzales affirmed. “And those oceanographers are by this new lake that was formed?”
“Correct. We call it Big Lake now, as it used to be farmland, with a few ponds for livestock. But it serves as our water supply now and is fairly secure,” Commander Terrance replied.
We emerged out of the constituent joint into the shell of Journey and soon entered the biome itself. There were checkpoints along the way staffed by various people. They were older biome dwellers who must have volunteered for that service. Few had any armor, but many had firearms. Armed mostly with gimps and shotguns, they looked more ready for wild-game hunting rather than battling with the Jellies. Able bodied young adults were off somewhere else. I supposed they were in Journey’s Jabberwocks and on the front lines of the war.
“Welcome to Tulgey Wood,” Commander Terrance announced as we entered the biome. “Broceliande, my hometown, is at the far end of my homeland. The Jellies have leveled it to the ground. I was born there and have a score to settle with these invaders.” His swearing punctuated his words frequently and vigorously.
I recognize
d the reference of the town’s name, but the town was not much different than the other towns I had seen in Queen, Bread, or even back in Kansas so long ago. The domiciles in Foreigner were different, as that place had been islands surrounded by sea.
As I looked between the houses and shops I saw the lake down the hill from where we were. It was nestled in a valley and from the trees which were sticking up from beneath the water at various places I could tell it was not a natural phenomenon. Well, not an original design of the biome. It was serene enough, but in the far distance I saw the rough line of dams and dikes.
I could almost feel a bit nostalgic about that town with its permalloy houses, and straight streets. For a flickering nanosecond, I nearly forgot about battling the Jellies, especially when I saw a happy dog running down one of the streets playing with some small children. Their laughter made me smile, but then I caught sight of some security automacubes perched on the rooftops. Those red machines had some kind of rack on their backs. It was a configuration which was new to me.
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