Alien War Trilogy 3: Titan

by Isaac Hooke

  The robot reared up on its hind legs, swiveling its whole body toward the outcropping. When its forelimbs slammed into the snow, the clamor was a veritable thunderclap, and the rocks shook worse than ever.

  Several missiles burst from those launchers on its flanks.

  Warnings flashed all over Rade’s HUD...

  nine

  The AI launched the Trench Coat countermeasures before Rade could react. Other Titan AIs did the same. That action saved their lives, because the missiles detonated only a few meters in front of the outcrop.

  The explosion hurled Rade backward and he landed in the center of the rock formation near a couple of other stunned Titans. He clambered to his feet. The snow in front of him, where he had been hiding, was completely melted away.

  “Attack!” Rade barely got the word out when the enemy electrolaser fired next.

  The lightning bolt tore through the air, striking Tahoe’s Titan and sending it hurtling backward. The electrical energy was definitely much more powerful than the meager, stunted bolts the mechs could launch.

  Tahoe landed, but quickly clambered to his feet. His shield had saved him: it was burned half away.

  Rade prudently activated his own shield, choosing the one on the left arm.

  As the Titans returned fire with lasers, electrolasers, grenades, and missiles, the robot charged.

  Rade jetted upward and fired the cobra in his right hand. He aimed at the base of the pulse cannon batteries on the rightmost flanks.

  The robot smashed into the rock outcropping and halted, nearly tripping.

  Rade landed on the thing’s back and begin hammering the base of its long neck with missiles. As the head turned toward him, he launched a missile at the site of the electrolaser, but the neck swayed, dodging it.

  From the corner of his eye Rade noticed the tail hovering above him, and he dove out of the way just as it unleashed a laser. The beam burned a thick hole into the already damaged base of the neck.

  “Nice one, boss!” Bender said.

  Completely accidental.

  Meanwhile the other mechs jetted around the torso like hornets, employing their stingers: lasers, eletrolasers, missiles, and grenades. In moments the weapon batteries on both flanks were smashed and disabled.

  “Concentrate fire on the base of the neck,” Rade said. “Let’s cut off it’s head!”

  The robot launched a spray of flame from an alternate nozzle near the tip of its tail, coating Rade and other nearby Titans in jellied gasoline. It stuck to their mechs, burning while they fought. The slight rise in temperature Rade felt inside the cockpit didn’t affect his combat efficiency in the least.

  The tail tip abruptly disintegrated as someone’s Hellfire impacted it dead-on. His team moved in to help him ‘cut off the head.’

  A lightning bolt fired again from the electrolaser at the tip of that neck.

  It struck the shoulder launcher of a Titan perched on the robot’s back near Rade. It was Grappler. Unfortunately, like most of the mechs, Grappler hadn’t launched all of his rockets yet, so the cascade effect of the one explosion caused all the rockets to explode. Grappler’s Titan was sent flying off. It was the very same technique Rade had employed to great success during the simulations.

  Rade glanced at Grappler’s vitals. They were orange: he was severely injured. Rade wanted to go to him, but he couldn’t help him yet, not while the rest of his men needed him.

  Rade angrily launched another missile at the electrolaser site, but the neck dodged out of the way once more.

  “Damn it.”

  From the corner of his eyes, he noticed hatches folding open on the robot’s left and right flanks.

  Hundred of smaller spider drones crawled out. They were about the size of a human head.

  In moments they had completely covered Rade and those others who hadn’t jetted away from the robot. The spiders didn’t care about the fire coating their mechs, and started to drill through the hulls.

  Rade folded away his weapon and tried to pull one of them off him but it held on fast. That electrolaser on the neck came around again, and Rade leaped off the robot as it unleashed another blow. The lightning caught the tip of his shield, burning it off.

  Rade landed in the snow and immediately activated the Lighter, electrifying the hull with a hundred million volts. Instantly the robots clinging to him fell away. Unfortunately, the recharge interval was one minute, and more spiders were already attaching to him.

  The giant had come about, and the underside of one of its massive feet was bearing down on him.

  Rade scrambled upright from the drift and activated his jumpjets. Only one of the jets activated, probably because a spider had climbed up the other nozzle and plugged the feed, and he went careening sideways. But at least he was out of the way of that massive foot.

  He landed on the outcropping, and fired his laser and electrolaser in turn at the spiders, at close range, slowing picking them off. When a minute had passed, he activated his Lighter again, and the rest sloughed off.

  He jetted toward the giant, which the other Titans had kept occupied, and landed on the torso near the neck. There were only a few spiders left. Bender’s mech clung to the farther side of the neck, near the electrolaser, which he was pounding repeatedly with a steel fist. It looked about ready to break off. The others meanwhile were concentrating their fire on the base of the neck, which was hanging to the torso by a thread of metal.

  Rade landed and fired his electrolaser at that thread, severing the neck. It fell away, bringing Bender with it.

  “Hey dipshits I’m still hanging on!” Bender said as his mech crashed into the snow.

  The main body continued to move about, weaponless save for the small spiders. Rade crushed the two spiders that tried to attach to him, and then dove inside the open hatches in the flanks with the other Titans. The mechs landed within nondescript storage bays, and proceeded to shoot out the internals. In moments the platoon members were jetting away as the large metallic body foundered to the snow.

  The jellied gasoline coating his mech and the others had burned itself out by then, so that when they landed their mechs once more assumed the color of snow. Mostly—there were black splotches in places where the fires had damaged the camouflage skin.

  Rade glanced at his overhead map and hurried to the site where Grappler went down. His Titan was a crumpled mess.

  “Grappler, how you doing?” Rade sent. “Grappler. Talk to me.”

  Nothing.

  Rade sent its AI the override order for the cockpit hatch, but it didn’t respond.

  “Grappler, can you open your hatch?”

  Still nothing. Around Rade and Grappler, the other Titans gathered in a half-circle. He knew that behind those expressionless steel faces, the human operators were watching with worried eyes.

  Rade put one metal foot on the twisted torso and grabbed at the hatch with his other hand; with some effort he managed to pull the cockpit door free.

  Not caring about radiation exposure in that moment, Rade knelt his mech and dismounted. He hurried to the open cockpit that contained Grappler’s motionless jumpsuit. Because of the damage, Grappler was all folded up inside, almost in the fetal position.

  Rade was reluctant to move him, but according to the stats returned by his suit, no bones were broken in his neck or back. Other bones were splintered, but not those. So it should be safe.

  Grappler was lodged fairly tight in there, but Rade managed to free him from the cockpit with the help of his strength-enhancing jumpsuit. The broken bones in Grappler’s arms and legs helped. Rade leaped off the mech and set him down in the snow.

  A large piece of metal protruded from the center of the soldier’s chest. It had pierced his suit, but the internal pressure formed a seal, saving his life. But not for long: according to his vitals, the internal injuries were severe. The shrapnel had plunged deep into his chest cavity.

  Rade retrieved the medkit from the storage compartment of his own Titan
and initiated a flow of analgesic into Grappler’s body using the plug-in slots above the glove area of the jumpsuit. He considered having the suit inject another dosage of its built-in stimulant, but that would likely only prolong the suffering. Rade wanted to ease Grappler’s passage to the other side, in whatever way he could.

  “Aren’t you going to help him, boss?” Bender said.

  Rade shook his head. “There’s nothing I can do. Check his vitals.”

  “But you have to try,” Bender said.

  Rade pressed his lips together. Bender was right. Rade had to try.

  The first thing, then, was removing that fragment.

  Rade grabbed several SealWraps from the medkit, which he could use to create a self-sealing funnel around the entry wound, and set to work.

  “Caylee,” Grappler said suddenly, opening his eyes behind his faceplate. They were wide, and stared off into space.

  “Grappler, it’s me,” Rade said. “Rage.”

  “I can’t do it anymore, Caylee,” Grappler said.

  Rade smiled sadly. “You can, Grappler. Don’t you quit on us.” He worked faster.

  “I... I’m not strong enough for the Teams. I thought I was. But I’m not. I’m going back to the regular Navy. I’m a liability here, like the instructor says. I’m going to tap out.”

  “No,” Rade said. “Don’t you dare. You’re an asset. The greatest asset we have. We need you.”

  Grappler shook his head behind his faceplate. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry, Caylee.” He struggled to lift his right hand for several moments, but then his arm dropped.

  Grappler looked at his hand uncertainly. “The gavel, it feels so heavy. I think I might need the Weavers. Can you help me lift it?”

  Rade momentarily paused in what he was doing and grabbed him by the shoulders. “I told you already, you’re not going to quit.”

  Grappler stared right through him. The injured soldier finally raised his glove after what seemed extreme effort—with the broken bones, the suit had to be doing most of the work. He flicked his arm thrice, gently touching Rade’s helmet each time. Tapping out.

  Grappler’s hand dropped forcefully. His eyes remained opened behind his faceplate, but his vitals flatlined.

  Rade mechanically disconnected the IV tubing and SealWraps, coiled them up, placed them in the medkit, and returned the whole thing to the storage closet of his mech.

  When he returned, Lui, having ejected from his mech, was openly weeping above Grappler’s body. “He never told us how he got his callsign.”

  “We can’t leave his body here on this alien world,” Manic said. “It isn’t right.”

  “No, it’s not,” Rade said. “I’ll carry him.”

  With Lui’s help, Rade hauled the body into the passenger seat of his mech and secured it. He didn’t want to dwell upon the gravity of what had happened. Grappler was the first man to die while under his command. Rade needed to stay focused on getting the rest of his team out of this alive.

  Mindful of the ever-present radiation, he returned to his shielded cockpit; the hatch sealed behind him and the inner actuators pressed into his body. He paused for a few moments, kneeling there, staring at the broken mech that had held Grappler.

  I can’t lead them. I’m not cut out for this.

  He stood to his full height. The act seemed to snap him out of his self-doubt and grief.

  “Let’s find Facehopper,” Rade said. “We’ll head due west, and come at the nuked city from a different vector. More from the southwest, than southeast.”

  He relayed his planned course to the others.

  “That’ll add two hours,” Tahoe said.

  “I know,” Rade said. “But with luck we’ll avoid any other patrols they send this way. Let’s move. Bender, you’re on point. Tahoe, drag.”

  The party started on its way, heading due west through the snow in single file. Rade took his place in the middle of the formation.

  “Boss,” Tahoe said a few moments later. There was a strange urgency to his tone. “Keelhaul.”

  Rade glanced at the overhead map. Keelhaul’s dot was far behind the others; he hadn’t joined the formation. Tahoe was waiting for him.

  Rade turned around. He realized Keelhaul was still standing in front of the ruin of Grappler’s mech.

  “Keelhaul,” Rade said. “We don’t have time to grieve. If we stay here, he died for nothing. We have to push on. Let’s go.”

  “It was my fault,” Keelhaul said quietly over the comm.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It was talking to me,” Keelhaul said.

  “What? Who?”

  “The robot,” Keelhaul said.

  Rade spoke uncertainly. “How could it be talking to you?”

  “I don’t know,” Keelhaul said. “But then again, I guess I do.”

  “No,” Rade said. “You were cleared for duty months ago. And again last week, like the rest of us. Clean bill of health. The nano-machines were completely removed from your head when the Implant was excised.”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Keelhaul said. “Apparently the scientists were wrong.”

  Rade hesitated. “Are you sure it was the robot that spoke to you? Not some glitch that caused phantom sounds from your local AI? Or a stress hallucination induced by a combination of the battle and strict food rationing?”

  “Positive,” Keelhaul said. “This was no local AI, or hallucination. I saw the same colors in my head, and heard the same tones that I did while aboard the alien ship. That same pulsating, machine-like data. They’ve got me, boss. Definitely got me. Grappler was wrong. He said he was the liability. But I’m the liability. I can’t go with you anymore.”

  “You’re not a liability,” Rade said. “We’re certainly not leaving you here.”

  “But how can you trust me? Who knows how much of my brain has been converted by now?”

  Rade glanced at the Titans closest to him. “How the hell is this even possible? He was cleared.”

  “He must have had only one or two nano-machines left in his head,” Lui said. “I can see the scientists overlooking them. It would be like trying to find a particle of sand in the middle of the brain. They were obviously latent all this time. Something must have activated them.”

  “Considering that we’ve landed on their homeworld,” Manic said. “I’m not surprised they’d reactivate. The kiddies have come home.”

  “Keelhaul’s right,” Bender said. “We can’t take him with us. Not if his presence gives us away.”

  “But you don’t know if it was Keelhaul who gave us away back there,” Rade said.

  “Why don’t you ask him when those colors appeared in his head?” Bender said. “Before or after the attack.”

  “Keelhaul?”

  “After,” Keelhaul said. “I think it was trying to convince me to help it.”

  “There you go,” Rade said.

  “But who’s to say the robot hadn’t detected its little friends beforehand?” Bender argued. “And only decided to communicate when we unleashed hell on its ass?”

  “We’ve never had our positions compromised in the past from having Keelhaul with us...” Rade said.

  “But as Lui said, they were latent all this time,” Bender countered. “If they’ve activated now, and begun taking over his brain, he is definitely a liability.”

  Rade sighed. He knew Bender was right.

  Crisis after crisis.

  “I’m going to have to ask you to give up control of your mech, Keelhaul,” Rade said. “I’m programming the AI of your jumpsuit to keep you sedated.” He dismounted his mech, opened the storage compartment, and retrieved the medkit. “I’ll have it periodically inject something to reduce your heart rate and core body temperature. Hopefully that will slow down the infection. Meanwhile, the AI of your Titan will man the mech for the duration of the mission. When we get home, I’ll hand you over to the scientists. Let’s hope they’ve figured out a way to reverse the process b
y then.”

  “I understand,” Keelhaul replied. He sounded forlorn. Like Rade, he knew quite well what his chances were. There was little hope: so far the scientists had made no headway in reversing the spread of the nano-machines in an infected brain.

  “How do we know sedating him is enough?” Bender said. “Maybe the nano-machines can still communicate regardless of whether the host is awake or not.”

  “I can’t leave him,” Rade said.

  Bender turned his Titan away. Rade thought he grumbled something over the line, but he didn’t catch the words.

  Rade went to Keelhaul, who had already transferred control of the mech over to the AI, and was waiting in the open cockpit. Using the contents of the medkit, Rade swapped out the stimulant vials in Keelhaul’s jumpsuit with the necessary sedating agents.

  “I’m sorry, Keelhaul,” Rade said as he secured the chemicals inside Keelhaul’s glove panel.

  “No,” Keelhaul replied. “I’m the one who’s sorry. After all the risks you and the others took to rescue me from that alien ship, turns out it was all for nothing. I’m infected.” He spat the word.

  “We’ll find a way to save you yet,” Rade said.

  “Don’t bother.” Keelhaul shook his head behind the faceplate. “Grappler was my brother.”

  “He was a brother to us all,” Rade said. “Just as you are our brother. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It wasn’t your fault. If you really are infected, then there was nothing you could have done.” He finished programming the AI. “Are you ready?”

  “No,” Keelhaul said. “And I never will be. But go ahead.”

  Rade smiled sadly, then activated the first injection.

  Behind the faceplate, Keelhaul’s eyes widened. “Gah, is it supposed to hurt so much?”

  Rade frowned. “It’s not supposed to hurt at all.”

  “Then why...” Keelhaul’s head slid forward inside the helmet and he closed his eyes.

  Rade checked his HUD. The soldier’s vitals remained stable, though his heart rate had slowed precipitously. But that was as planned.

  “Sleep well, brother,” Rade said quietly. He loaded Keelhaul back into the mech—for the radiation shielding—and the cockpit sealed shut behind him.