Paradise (Expeditionary Force Book 3)

by Craig Alanson

  Jesse looked out the window to the landscape of the alien planet passing by. A planet he was trapped on, and a planet that would soon be controlled by the cruel Kristang. “UNEF got us out here because they didn’t know the truth and were too stupid to ask,” he looked the former intelligence officer in the eye as he spoke. “Now I’m a farmer on an alien planet, and there is no way I can ever go home. I say, to hell with UNEF. They’ve screwed everything up so far.”

  “Amen to that, brother,” Dave agreed. “I have no problem with it either, Major. But we will need weapons, and we don’t have any.”

  “We won’t need weapons,” Perkins explained. “This is going to seem odd, but what we need is drilling gear; excavation equipment.”

  “Excavation equipment? Like digging?” Dave asked. “Ma’am, if this is about us trying to find gold or something like that, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

  “Gold?” Shauna asked. “Are we hoping to find gold, so the Ruhar will think this planet is more valuable? So they’ll send their fleet here to chase away the Kristang?”

  “No,” Perkins shook her head in frustration. “No gold. If the Ruhar want gold, they mine it from asteroids. This isn’t about anything like gold.”

  “Then what is it about, Ma’am?” Jesse asked with his arms across his chest. “You asked us to trust you. I would appreciate you trusting us.”

  “Fair enough, Colter. I don’t know the whole story, whoever is running this operation has me on a need to know basis also.” As Perkins said that, she wondered if Emby was listening through her zPhone. Probably they were, she decided. Before telling the three about the mission, she forwarded to them a message from Emby. Their Mysterious Benefactor had told her that anyone who opened that message would have absolutely unbreakable encryption on their phones. Perkins had been instructed to forward the message to anyone involved in the operation, and not to anyone else. “I’m going to tell you everything I know, so here it is. When we got these zPhones,” she held hers up, “I had a ton of email. Then it all disappeared, except for one. I opened it to find a message from someone calling themselves our Mysterious Benefactor. I’m calling them Emby for short. They didn’t say who they are, but I’m betting they are a group of native Ruhar who are not happy with the situation on this planet, and they can’t trust their own government or military to take the appropriate action. So they’re using us. What they want us to do is get rid of that Kristang battlegroup in orbit,” she pointed to the sky, “so what they want matches what is best for us. That’s the only reason I agreed to take on this mission. That, plus I don’t see any other possibility of humans surviving on this planet long term. If the Kristang take over this planet permanently, none of us will live very long. I think you all know that.”

  “I do, Ma’am,” Shauna said. “But tell me, please; you got a mysterious email? That’s what all this is about? Could it be a prank?”

  “Yeah,” Jesse added, “or disinformation? You intel types do that kind of stuff. This could be the Kristang trying to get us to do something stupid against them, so they have an excuse to squash us like bugs.”

  “That would be just like the lizards,” Dave observed.

  “No,” Perkins shook her head. “The message contained intel I didn’t know, and when I contacted the US intel chief, he denied it. He denied it in a way that was too quick, you understand? UNEF HQ had this info, they know about it, and they haven’t told us. Whoever our Mysterious Benefactor is, they know.”

  “They know what? What is it they know?” Shauna was the first to ask.

  So Perkins told them. Told them how the Ruhar federal government had been negotiating to trade Paradise to the Kristang, in exchange for more valuable territory. How the Ruhar fleet had never intended to recapture the planet in the first place. How that was why there had not been giant transport ships bringing evacuated Ruhar back to their home. Why the local Ruhar administration had not put more than token effort into rebuilding infrastructure.

  “Holy shit,” Dave said quietly. “Those motherfuckers. The Ruhar are selling us out.”

  “Yes,” Perkins agreed flatly. “There was talk going around six to eight months ago, of UNEF declaring loyalty to the Ruhar,” she could see everyone’s eyes grow wide with surprise. “HQ thought that might give the Ruhar more incentive to protect us from the Kristang raids that were burning out our crops. Then suddenly, that talk stopped, and we were told by HQ to not mention it again. Now I know why. HQ must have talked to the Ruhar, and the hamsters told us no. They didn’t want our loyalty, because then they’d be responsible for us, and they plan to leave us behind when they trade this planet away.”

  “Shit,” Jesse said, stunned. “I’m not dumb enough to think the Ruhar would ever be our buddies, but I didn’t think they would screw us like this.”

  “We don’t have any friends out here, people,” Perkins declared. “We’re on our own, truly on our own, because the Kristang have lost contact with Earth. The Ruhar confirmed that to me. The only reason I agreed to work with Emby on this mission is that our goals match in this case. We both want those Kristang ships out of orbit.”

  “Ma’am, in the long run, what good does that do for us?” Shauna asked. “The Ruhar still plan to sell the planet out from under us.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I asked Emby the same question. And that’s why I think our Mysterious Benefactor is a group of native Ruhar. Because what Emby told me is that, once that Kristang battlegroup isn’t hanging over our heads, there is at least a possibility the federal Ruhar government could somehow be persuaded to keep Paradise. With the Kristang having the big guns in orbit, there is no possibility the Ruhar will keep this place in the long term.”

  “Ok,” Jesse said after taking a deep breath. “So the mission is to get rid of a Kristang task force of, what, more than twenty warships? Did this Emby say how the four of us are going to do that?”

  “Colter, if you think I’ve told you some incredible shit so far,” Perkins smiled and tilted her head, “you ain’t heard anything yet.”

  “Wait, Ma’am,” Jesse said a few minutes later, his head spinning. “There are giant maser cannons buried on this planet, that the Kristang don’t know about-”

  “That the Kristang clan in orbit do not know. The Kristang clan that installed the projectors do know, but that group of Kristang is not here.”

  “Right,” Jesse said, thinking that keeping track of who was who in this war required a color-coded spreadsheet. “The Kristang here don’t know, and the Ruhar government and military don’t know, and UNEF doesn’t know. But some of the native Ruhar do know?”

  “Exactly.”

  “How?” Jesse insisted. “How do a bunch of native hamster farmers know all this, when their government and military don’t?”

  Perkins shrugged. “Maybe some farmer was plowing a field and dug up a projector by accident. I don’t know, and Emby didn’t tell me how they found out about the projectors. It doesn’t matter. What I do know is that the Ruhar government and military do not know, because they certainly would have used the projectors to stop the raids. Now, if the Ruhar government learned of the projectors, they would not use them against a full Kristang task force, because that would sour the negotiations. What this Emby wants is a shooting war between the Ruhar and the Kristang, they want to force their government’s hand. As long as that Kristang task force is in orbit, the native Ruhar are screwed. They can’t trust their own government to do the right thing, so they’re using us to do it for them. I am pretty damned sick of people using us for their own ends,” she looked her three soldiers in the eyes and found complete agreement, “but in this case what they want is what we want. We can’t tell UNEF HQ because the Ruhar and Kristang have totally compromised the zPhone network. It’s up to us to reactivate these projectors, and knock those ships out of orbit.”

  “Do you mind if I say ‘Holy Shit’, Ma’am?” Shauna asked, her mind still reeling.

  “You can say it for me, too, Jarrett
,” Perkins smiled. “I’ve had time to think about it, and it’s still blowing my mind. When the Ruhar hit Earth,” she reminisced, “I was on leave, on a camping trip in Kentucky with friends. There was no cell phone service at the lake. We didn’t see anything going on in the sky because it rained that morning. I didn’t find out that Earth had been attacked by aliens until we hiked out two days later. Christ, that was one hell of a shock. Then I went into space, found out that the Kristang aren’t our allies after all, that our way back to Earth has been cut off, and that the Ruhar are looking to trade this planet for a set of steak knives. So, when a mystery group tells me that we can destroy starships in orbit using secret maser cannons, I say, why the hell not? That isn’t even the strangest thing that’s happened to me this month.”

  “Amen to that,” Dave said, and bumped fists with Jesse. “I’m in.”

  “You sure, man?” Jesse asked.

  “Yeah, what the hell?” Dave frowned. “By the time we get back, someone will have stolen our couch anyway.”

  “I’m in if you are,” Jesse said, looking at Shauna.

  Shauna didn’t hesitate. She wanted combat duty, she wanted to make a difference, and this was her opportunity. Somebody else could grow tomatoes in Lemuria. “Sign me up, Ma’am,” she saluted Perkins. “What are we going to do for weapons?” The Ruhar were careful to collect even the plastic spoons that came with their twice a day servings of nutrient mush.

  Perkins was relieved. And anxious. She had a team. Now she had the responsibility to execute the mission she’d accepted. “Emby says they we won’t need weapons, what we need is transport, and like I said, excavation equipment. These projectors are buried; we need to dig down to get at them. The original Kristang installed the projectors, charged up their capacitors, activated a stealth field to fool subsurface scans, and then covered them with soil. Trees have grown up on some of them since then. Emby told me that when a projector is ready to fire, explosive charges will blow the soil away and the maser cannon muzzle projects above the surface, so we don’t need to clear all that dirt away. What we do need is to dig a shaft down about eighty meters to access the power controls. The Kristang made these things go dormant when they left. Emby says we need to physically reattach power leads, something like that. They’ll walk us through it when we get down there.”

  “Ma’am,” Shauna said, “I’ve seen so much crazy shit out here that I’m ready to believe anything. But if this Emby is really a group of native Ruhar, why aren’t they reactivating the projectors by themselves?”

  “I asked myself the same question, Jarret,” Perkins admitted. “My guess is either this Emby is a very small group, maybe even a single Ruhar, and they need our help. They can’t trust any other Ruhar, but they can trust us because they know we are totally screwed if the Kristang take control of this planet. Or it could be that Emby wants to avoid getting in trouble if this whole operation goes south. The only thing I do know is that if there is any chance we can keep the Kristang away from this planet, I’m going to take it.”

  “Same here,” Shauna agreed. Growing tomatoes is not why she left Earth. “You can get us transport, ma’am?”

  “No,” Perkins shook her head. “But Emby can. We will need a pilot.”

  “I know a pilot,” Shauna said with a smile.

  “There are a lot of pilots,” Perkins noted. “Can we trust him?”

  “We can trust her,” Shauna insisted. “I know she would do anything to fly again. That’s the problem, ma’am, she doesn’t fly now. How is she going to get a Buzzard?”

  “That will be Emby’s problem.”

  “We’ll have transport,” Dave said. “Where are we going to get a drilling rig? And someone to operate it?”

  “That is going to be a little more difficult,” Perkins acknowledged. There were drills on Paradise, the Ruhar used them to dig wells for irrigating farmland. While they were not plentiful, they would also not be locked up and well-guarded, as there normally wasn’t any point to stealing a drill. The real problem was going to be finding a complete drilling rig that could be broken down to fit inside the cargo compartment of a truck or a Buzzard. A Buzzard was big, it could carry two hamvees easily, so cargo capacity and weight were not the issue. What she did not know was what was the minimum length of a disassembled drill. She would need to ask Emby; surely the hamsters knew the answer, or could find it.

  “Well, Skippy,” I said after we read the message from Perkins to Emby. “Perkins has a very good point. Are there any drill rigs that can fit inside a Buzzard?”

  “Yes, duh, I already thought of that, Joe. There is a type of compact drill rig that was designed specifically to break down to be transported by a Buzzard in one flight, to service remote areas. It will certainly fit in a truck.”

  “Oh, great,” I was relieved. That is a question that I should have asked earlier. “How many of these compact drill rigs are there on Paradise?”

  “Three.”

  “Three? On the whole planet? Holy shit. We have to steal one of only three special-use items? Where are they right now?”

  “One is being used to dig a well in the northwest corner of what UNEF calls Backstratchistan, about as far from Lemuria as you can get without going to an island. Another is at an airfield about five hundred kilometers away from the active drill, being held in reserve in case of a problem with the first drill. The third is in a military warehouse on an air base, near the base of the space elevator.”

  “You’re kidding me. Two of them are way too far away, and the third is secured by the military? How the hell are we going to get one, then? How is Perkins going to get one? You have a plan for that? Is Perkins going to drive up to the air base gate and ask for it politely? Or, hey,” I was on a roll, “maybe she can order it off the Ruhar version of Amazon.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes? Yes to what?”

  “The last one, Joe. The compact drill rig will be delivered to her, wherever she needs it. It’s a high-dollar item, so shipping is free. Hmmm, that is a good point, we should probably get someone to sign for it.”

  I paused to collect my thoughts. “Skippy, I apologize. I should have known you would have a plan for this. Would you please, please share your brilliant plan with us?”

  “You didn’t say pretty please with sugar on it, Joe.”

  “Let’s pretend I did.”

  “Fair enough. What I’m going to do, Joe, is to utilize the awesome power of bureaucracy. Count Chocula would appreciate this. I’ll send a very official-looking equipment requisition to the air base logistics officer. It will order that drill rig and everything else Perkins will need, to be loaded onto a truck and delivered to some remote warehouse, wherever Perkins needs it. When the logistics officer calls headquarters to verify, like the good little soldier he is, I will handle the call myself and chew him out for not having moved the drill rig already.”

  “That is a brilliant plan, Skippy,” I wasn’t being sarcastic.

  “Uh huh. We’ll let bureaucracy work in our favor, for a change.”

  The Ruhar guard aboard the train was supposed to check on the humans every four hours, although there didn’t seem to be much point in doing that. The train was taking the humans where they wanted to go; back to Lemuria. The only source of human food in the area was the ‘nutrient mush’ that was locked in a cabinet. Optimal security measures would not have put all the mush containers in a cabinet in the same train car the humans occupied, but that was more convenient when it was time to feed them. And to the Ruhar, the mush had an unpleasant smell. Best to keep it away from the Ruhar passengers, few though they were.

  So when it was time for the guard to sleep, he set an alarm on his phone to wake him in four hours. Skippy, of course, deactivated that alarm, and when the guard awoke briefly six hours later, the clock on his phone told him he had been asleep for only three hours. Satisfied, he rolled over in his bunk and drifted off to sleep again, lulled by the gentle rocking motion of the train.

&n
bsp; Before their Ruhar guard had locked the door of the train car behind him, Perkins and her team had settled down to sleep for the night. Or they had acted as if they were settling down for the night. As soon as the guard was gone, they quickly got their boots back on. Within fifteen minutes, Perkins received a message that the guard had gone to sleep.

  “How does Emby know that?” Dave asked in a whisper.

  “They must have someone aboard this train,” Shauna guessed.

  “Makes sense,” Major Perkins nodded and turned as, with a soft click, the cabinet containing all the canisters of yummy nutrient mush unlocked. Moving quietly, the team unloaded the canisters and rolled them up in the satchels they had made from a roll of cloth. Then they waited. They waited thirty two minutes, with Perkins chafing at the delay, until Emby signaled it was time. The train was slowing as it climbed a steep hill out of a river valley; they had heard the wheels clatter over a bridge shortly before. Emby warned that the train would pick up speed again when it reached the top of the short grade, and the safe place to jump off the train was less than a hundred meters long. For one hundred meters, there was a field of Ruhar crops alongside the tracks; then the tracks were hemmed in by trees. Perkins got her team ready.

  Jesse volunteered to go first. “I’ll go first, then you jump and I’ll catch you,” he gallantly told Shauna.

  “Screw that,” Shauna said, and dropped to the ground. She hit feet first, letting herself roll, mowing over a row of crops and getting a mouthful of dirt. She sprang to her feet and gave a thumbs up, barely able to see the other three faces in the open door of the train car. Then she crouched to avoid being seen, as she watched one, two, three others jump lightly and roll. Ski went last, hanging onto a railing and making sure the door closed behind him quietly and securely before he jumped. He almost left it too late; when he finished rolling he was a mere ten meters from a stand of trees.

  They all waited for the blinking blue light on the rear of the train to disappear. Perkins smoothed out the dirt where she’d fallen and propped up the crops she had flattened. Hopefully it would be a while before the farmer noticed the damage. The others followed her example, then they assembled. “What’s next, ma’am?” Dave asked. He stood on his left foot, favoring his right.