Fortunately, I had little time for hand-wringing or rumination. Round two of the Berrillian Guerrilla War began as abruptly as round one had. Late that afternoon, a shit storm hit on Ventural, the Maxwal-Asute home world. Though we all figured fighting would begin soon on all the other planets the Berrillians had invaded, we concentrated our response on Ventural. For a few hours, I shuttled large numbers of personnel there. By the time that was done, I was asked to ferry wounded back to their home worlds, be they the worldship fleet or some other Alliance planet. I popped back and forth frantically from Ventural to any number of medical facilities. Within a few hours, the fighting ebbed, but it didn’t stop completely as it had before.
With less wounded to evacuate, I elected to join the fighting. I was curious. I wanted to see the Maxwal-Asute in battle. The little fire hydrants talked tough, but I wanted to see them in action. To see if they walked the walk.
Note to self. Never, ever be curious about anything to do with war. War was hell. Well, on my world, war wasn’t hell. Hell was a place you went for R&R after war. Hell was an upgrade from war. However bad hell was in the mind of the person who feared it the most, hell was a cakewalk compared to war. And the irony of war was that we inflicted it on ourselves. Hell was established by celestial powers to house evil, unsalvageable souls.
I wished to see them at war, and I got my wish. No sooner had I joined the frontlines when the Berrillians launched their real offensive. The initial attack was a feign, intended to lull us into complacency. As they hit us hard the first time then stopped, they hoped we’d assume their tactics would remain the same. It was a logical plan. Attack with all your might, then retreat.
The first waves had consisted of a few hundred cats charging over a long, thin battle line in the hilly forested region of Ventural. The natural response for our force was to spread out to meet that initial attack. The second wave was a wedge-shaped assault. That made the central wedge formation even more deadly. They passed through our lines like a hot knife thought butter. Then they doubled-back on either side of the breech, trapping our troops. If the Berrillians swept behind our forces, the bulk of our force would be cut off and surrounded. As the cats never took prisoners, we all understood the cost of being trapped.
Our reinforcements tried to stop the lateral movement of the two Berrillian units that had broken through. That was where the fighting was the most intense. In those areas, our soldiers had Berrillians in front and behind them, as well as friendly forces pressing the enemy into the lines from the rear. Command quickly lost control due to the confusion. Also, no one had time to talk with our leaders. It had become all-out hand-to-hand combat. Kill or die. We all, on both sides, switched into automatic mode.
I was firing a plasma gun with my left hand and using the laser in my right index finger. I aimed both weapons over a large field of vision by looking straight ahead. That technique had worked well in the past and continued to work well now.
I had to narrow my focus when the fighting became close quarter. The Maxwal-Asute did have a different way of fighting. When the fighting was more spread out, they fired lethal guns from fixed formations. But as the scene became chaotic, they swarmed the much larger Berrillians like ants. Individuality was replaced by the hive-mind. When a cat slammed two fire hydrants into the air, four raced to the spot they’d been and continued tearing at the Berrillian. I saw countless Maxwal-Asute literally cover up a Berrillian, the cat continuing to claw and snap at them the entire time. Ultimately, the Berrillian would succumb, fall to the turf and die, but it took thirty or more Maxwal-Asute to achieve that goal.
The ground became slick with the red blood of the Berrillians and the green blood of the locals. Parts and pieces of Maxwal-Asute were everywhere—on the turf, in the trees, all over me. But they never flagged. Whenever they were near enough to a cat, masses of Maxwal-Asute would pour over them. They seemed to use their plunger heads to both slice at as well as bite them. In the meantime, the powerful cats made mincemeat of their foes.
As the fighting collapsed, I flipped the rifle to my right hand. My left fist served to bash any Berrillians who came too close. Quickly, that number skyrocketed. I was being overrun by the enemy. Then my right hand exploded. I looked to see a Berrillian standing not five meters from me, a plasma gun in its paws. I whipped out my fibers out and grabbed his head before he could fire again and tossed him in the air as high as I could. He disappeared above the canopy of trees.
My hand was gone. The blast had removed everything from mid forearm down. The exposed tip sparked and hissed. The rest of my right arm worked just fine.
I was afraid, and it had been the first time in as long as I could remember. I wasn’t in control. I was no longer the ultimate warrior. I was a one-armed man in a fist fight.
But there was no time to ponder my navel. Two Berrillians charged at me from the right. I brought my rifle up and blew one a new hole, but the other tackled me before I could train the gun on him. We collapsed backward as he drove me to the ground. Instead of making a divot where we hit, we slid on the oozy blood-slime that was everywhere. We spun as we glided, him on top, me on the bottom. A tree stopped us abruptly.
I kneed him and launched him into the trunk, but did so with little force. I’d slipped backward in the mire, losing my leverage. He came down on his head, back against the tree, but gently so. We both flipped to stand. His footing was way better than mine because of his claws. I slipped and stopped myself from falling with the stump of my right arm. He grabbed me by the head and lifted me into the air with his front legs. Right at mouth-level, I kicked him. Risky business, driving a body part toward those teeth. Luckily, he didn’t realize it was coming in time to open up. His front fangs collapsed under my foot, and I felt his jaw splinter.
He roared in pain but held onto me. I swung violently from side to side. My left hand grabbed his chest. In my head, I said one word. Heart. My probe fibers shot past his ribs and whipped his heart like it was in a blender. He gave me one short, shocked look, and collapsed. I broke free before he hit the ground.
I searched frantically for my rifle. There. Ten meters to the right. I dove for it.
A Berrillian female kicked the side of my head as she appeared from nowhere. I flip-flopped midair and rolled sideways into the mud. She pounced on me. I rolled her onto her back. I stuck my stump under her chin and pushed up for all I was worth. She almost managed to use my momentum and flip me over, but I rode her like a bucking bronco. Her head was forced upward from my right arm. I pushed her face away from me with my hand. She yielded enough that I could shove her face into the repulsive goo the dirt had become.
As she suffocated, she tried to hurl me off her stomach. I wrapped my legs behind hers to hold on and kept driving her face down. In a minute, she fell limp. I held her a second longer to make sure she was dead. Then I rose slowly too my feet. I didn’t want to slip again.
A click to one side caught my ear. A Berrillian male had a rifle pointed right at my head. He roared in triumph. Before he could fire, a swarm of Maxwal-Asute flooded over him. Man, they looked good as they enveloped him. I loved the little buggers right about then. He shot at his own head a few times before he, either by intent or accident, blew it off. The Maxwal-Asute not killed dropped to the ground like fleas off a dead dog and rushed to attack the nearest Berrillian.
I studied the filthy stump of my right arm. I was so glad I didn’t have to worry about infection. It’d have been horrific. Then I had an idea. I had duct tape on my utility belt. Duct tape and WD-40. Never go into battle without them. I found a fifty-kilogram rock and bound it to my stump. The tape was strong enough to hold the rock with minimal wobbling. It probably wouldn’t hold for long, but I felt a hell of a lot better to have a weapon. I didn’t like being a pure liability.
I swung my rifle up and turned. Three Berrillians were rushing me. Two were on all fours. The other was on two feet and held a rifle. Why she hadn’t fired I’d never know. I planted a plasma bolt right bet
ween her eyes, and she flipped over backward. I shot one of the others in the chest. He fell to the ground but quickly scampered into the bushes. His companion hadn’t noticed or didn’t care that he was charging alone. He growled and sprang at me. My new club came down atop his head with a satisfying crunch. I hopped over his collapsing body, then turned to make certain he wasn’t getting back up. He didn’t.
It was getting dark. There was no way I could return to Wrath at that point. A whole lot of cats stood between the two of us. I also couldn’t summon Shearwater so I could bail on the firefight. Too many trees. Plus, the arrival of a ship would draw the Berrillians like flies to poop. I was stuck, at least until our reinforcements broke thought. Likely, that wouldn’t be until dawn. The Maxwal-Asute had extremely poor night vision. Unless forced to do otherwise, they preferred to hunker down at night and fight when they were not at such a significant disadvantage. Berrillians, on the other hand, possessed outstanding night vision, better than the cat species of Earth.
I found a few large rocks and tried to disappear into them. My rifle had half a charge left. That meant I had at least several hundred shots left. The disadvantage of using a plasma gun at night was that the light it produced was prodigious. If I fired it, every cat within a kilometer would know where I was. My laser finger would have been safe to use, as its beam was so focused, but it was mangled somewhere on the sticky forest floor.
I then had to face my greatest fear and challenge. I had to call Kayla and tell her I wouldn’t be home that evening on account of being pinned down and in mortal danger. I’d try to conceal my serious injury, but if she learned of that, I’d break her heart. I’d almost rather be dead than make the call.
Al, I said in my head, are you and Wrath safe and secure?
Yes, Captain. We’re inside a membrane awaiting your return.
Well, that won’t be tonight.
A Berrillian rushed at me from nowhere. He fired his rifle and roared to beat the band. I barely dodged his shots. I aimed and fired once. It was a lucky shot. I’d removed his head before he could fire again. I poked my head up to see if anyone else noted my location. My infrared scanners showed a few Berrillians moving slowly, but none were headed my way.
After a couple minutes, I spoke in my head to Al. Okay, it’s quiet now. Like I said, I’ll take cover here tonight. If possible, I’ll try and make it back to you when more Maxwal-Asute arrive.
Is there anything we can do to help?
No, I don’t think so. If something occurs to me, I’ll let you know.
Jon, be safe.
Wow, he never called me by my name. I will. Thanks. Hey, can you patch me through to Kayla?
Are you certain that’s wise? I’m admittedly an AI machine, but my records of female behavior suggest such a move is risky to a male’s longevity.
There’s no way around it. If I don’t check in, I’ll be just as dead.
I’m glad I’m an artificial construct.
I may ask you to switch with me before this is over.
Thanks for the Pinocchio offer, but I’ll remain inanimate, especially in this dubious context.
Thanks for your moral support. Not.
I may only be a machine, but I’m not a foolish machine.
Put me through before I listen to you and my gut and chicken out.
After a few seconds, I heard her voice. “Jon? Is that you honey? Where are you?”
Luckily, I could think my words to Al and he could translate them to audio. I couldn’t risk talking in my precarious position.
“You know what? That’s a funny story. Ah, are you sitting down?”
“You assume I’ll laugh so hard I might collapse?” Her voice was as cold and as sharp as a guillotine blade.
“It’s possible, I guess.”
“Jon. I’m getting very angry. Where are you?”
“Somewhere north of the Maxwal-Asute capital city.”
“Somewhere? That sounds bad. Why don’t you know exactly where you are, and why isn’t that location actually here at home?”
“Ah, I decided to work late?”
“Not funny. Answer me.”
“I’m held down by Berrillians.”
“I said no jokes. I’m deadly serious.”
“No, seriously. Outnumbered, pinned down behind rocks, and hoping to see the dawn.”
“Jon, why are you there? Can’t you make it back to Wrath?” Her voice was trembling.
“No. Too many enemy between us. It’s night here. I’ll have to hold out until Maxwal-Asute reinforcements come tomorrow.”
“Can you?”
Tough question. “I think so. I’m being honest, honey. I think I’ll be okay.”
“I’m hanging up. I need you to stay focused. I want you to know I’m not hanging up because I’m angry with you. That will come when you’re safe back home. Then you’re a dead man.”
“Love you too.”
Al, close the link.
Done.
I’m signing out until further notice.
Absolutely. You need to stay focused.
Were you eavesdropping?
No. Why?
That’s what Kayla just told me.
Great minds think alike. You should get one, assuming you survive this.
Love you too. Nighty-night.
Maxwal-Asute don’t vocalize the same way we do. They lack a voice box and produce sound by vibrating their inverted toilet plunger disks. But they can scream in holy terror. During that long night, I heard half a dozen different versions from them as they cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I knew something terrible had happened to each voice. By the luck of fate, I was left alone. One Berrillian crawled right past me, close enough that I lifted my rock to bash him. But he abruptly spun and sped off into the darkness. A scream of horror confirmed he’d acquired a target.
Just before dawn, I heard angels, lots of angels. It was the sound of hundreds of troop carrier crafts approaching. Relief was on its way. I also made out the sounds of countless ground transports—probably tanks—crashing toward our position. First light saw a firefight of epic proportions, but the Maxwal-Asute forces struck in such number and with such ferocity, the battle was brief. Not a single Berrillian left the battlefield alive. Zero. I doubt they would have wanted to surrender, but none received the option. Lucky captives were shot. A handful of cats were not so fortunate. They were bound and swarmed. Even hating the Berrillians as much as I did, it was a gruesome sight, one I’d just as soon have missed. The Berrillians also had many different howls of pain and terror, it turned out.
I was ferried back to Wrath and left immediately. I had some major fences to mend. Kayla jumped into my arms and hugged me so hard I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Then I remembered I didn’t breathe. The kids, who were never told why dad didn’t come home, greeted me enthusiastically enough, then promptly returned to texting their friends and playing holo games. I had a rock duct taped to where my hand was supposed to be and they returned to their world without a word. Kids.
Once we were alone, Kayla leveled a finger at my nose. “Never again. That’s my last word on the subject. You are allowed none.”
Then she pecked me on the cheek and let me head to Toño’s for repair. She did specifically tell me the rock wasn’t sexy. It was her or the rock. Both would not be living in my company. My choice was immediate.
Toño knew of my injury, but man o man he hammed it up when he laid eyes on me. “If you don’t stop ruining my creation, I will refuse to repair it. This is intolerable. ¡Insoportable!”
“No, seriously, I’m fine. No other wounds or painful injuries,” I replied.
“That is too bad. A little pain would serve you right.”
“Maybe you could program some for me, you know, as a punishment.”
“Don’t tempt me. Do not tempt me. Now come, let me remove that ridiculous stone.”
As the duct tape came off, he set the rock aside and angled both hands at my stump. “Look at th
e damage that idiotic stone has done. The margins are filthy and shorn like a rat has gnawed on them.”
“Excuse me for trying to survive.”
“That is not sufficient reason to have done this much harm. I’ll have to replace the forearm at the elbow.”
“Will it hurt if I self-flagellate and grovel?”
“No, but go ahead and try nonetheless.” He finally smiled.
“Don’t forget to install a forearm with a laser finger. I want to be at full strength.”
“So, you can prevent this from happening again?”
“No, it didn’t…” I wagged finger at him. “You’re a cruel SOB. You know that, right?”
“That is my goal when it comes to dealing with you.” He winked.
A few hours into the tedious repair work, I asked Toño a question that I’d recently started kicking around in my head. “You’re a science guy, right? Mind if I ask you a question?”
He stopped what he was doing, set his tools down, and looked at the ceiling. “Yes, I guess I am a science guy.”
Before I could speak, he held up a hang-on-a-second hand. “You know, I think I’ll have those words inscribed on my headstone.” He swept a hand in an arc through the air. “Here Lies Doc.” Then he lowered his hand to signify line two. “A Science Guy.”
He brought his silencing hand up again. Wiping at the corner of his eye, he concluded, “Kind of brings a tear to my eye.” He menaced a glance at me. “But just the right one.”
“So, I was thinking…”
He harrumphed.
“I was thinking, where would I go to find people who could excavate the hell out of a planet’s surface?”
That brought him to a full stop again. “Why would you want to excavate the hell out of a planet’s surface?”
“I don’t. But if you did, where would you go?”
“To a psychiatrist, because I’d be out of my mind.”
“Ouch.”
The Forever Peace Page 16
