Jonah stood straight, looking out the window as he spoke.“We were children too, caught up in a war that had started before we were even born.”He glanced down at Gregory.“You know, they teach now that the war began at the start of the 23rd century. That Marshall Borogrin fired the first shot at the Council blockade. The spark that lit off a planet-sized powder keg. It’s all ridiculous.”He turned to face the room, the vista of New York at his back.“Borogrin was a newborn when this war began, starting with the subjugation of the Martian people by Emperor Norton III. The taxes, the embargoes, and the atrocities brought down by the Imperial Guard all led to a planet rising against tyranny.
“You ever read the journal of Calvin McMallen?”
Gregory shook his head.“You’re talking about the Foundation conspiracy?”
“He was a soldier when the Empire finalized control of Earth, spent most of his life locked up on the moon. When he was finally paroled, he organized a group of several armies that helped destabilize the Imperial government. They called themselves the Division. After fighting to free their planet, they turned on each other. Even as the Council took its first steps into power, the Emigration War was laying the seeds of its destruction. Mars just ended up on the wrong side of that battle, and the war taxes did the rest. It took fifty years to get the good Marshall and his unions armed and fighting.”
Gregory held up his hands.“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want me to do?”
“I want you to tell the people of Earth and the rest of the galaxy what really happened. I want them to know about the assassination of Mr. McMallen, and how his death fueled the fires of revolution. I want them to know the truth that got hidden away when the UEC became the Colonial Federate. And when they know the facts, we’ll let them decide the fate of the biggest hypocrite of them all.”Jonah smiled as Gregory cowered at the idea.“Not you, you idiot. Alexander Burton, the venerable High Chancellor of the Terran Federate Council.”He leaned in closer to the reporter, pinching the man’s jaw with his hand.“We’ll try him before his people, allow them to make a final judgment. I’ll lay bare all of his most heinous sins. And then, with the galaxy watching, we’re going to execute him.”
- VI -
Josh and Dax finished loading the second truck with explosives just as the sun was beginning to fall toward the horizon. The ambush had gone off without a hitch, and eight more soldiers were chalked off the roster. Alpha was down to two platoons, including their guards in the towers. Still an imposing threat, but the soldiers were driven by their successes to continue forward. Having already done a few impossible things, one more seemed downright simple. With the car bombs set, the squad moved into position just outside direct fire range near the fort.
Alexa and her team stood by with their mortars. The trick would be to draw Alpha’s soldiers out into the open. The explosions would do the trick, causing as much confusion as possible while the steel rain came down. Once the towers were dealt with and the soldiers crammed inside the scant few buildings, the real work could begin. With only a few dozen grenades left, the room clearing would be grueling work. Dax handed off his DaVinci for a GK Carbine, rejoicing in the lighter-weight weapon. His team formed behind him, two hundred meters from the towers.
Dax slid down the ramped ground to where Josh waited, next to their improvised mobile-bomb.“Are you ready?”His thick square jaw was covered in a thin layer of black stubble a shade darker than his skin.
The young squad leader had to stare straight up to look at his friend’s eyes.“Shit,”Josh said.“I’ve never been more freaked in my life, but otherwise I’m pretty good.”
“Don’t worry. Where can it really go wrong?”
Josh looked at his friend, dumfounded.“The bombs might not go off. Or there won’t be that many soldiers outside. Or they’ll just stay inside and we’ll be trying to clear barracks filled with two platoons of aggravated gunmen. Maybe they’ve set up booby traps. Maybe they don’t even open the gate for us.”
Dax laughed.“OK, I get it.”
“Our guns could jam, the grenades could be duds, we may just not be as good as them.”
“Josh,”Dax said, seriously.“Shut up. This is either going to work or we’re going to go to the rear, take showers, and laugh about this tomorrow night at the closing banquet.”Dax clapped him on the back.“So let’s say‘to hell with the what-ifs’and drive these trucks into the middle of that firestorm.”
Josh smiled weakly. His friend was right. No matter the outcome of the next few hours, the battle was almost over. Josh was looking forward to some down time after the many months on Kronos. Even if every single soldier in Charlie fell during the fight, they would still take second place. That would earn a weekend of freedom in any port on New Eden. But a part of him continued to hope. Victory in the games meant a full two weeks of rest, away from the drudgery of military life. Josh had enlisted because he’d needed the money. After two years of service he felt just as unsure about his future as before. Any respite from being in uniform would give him time to think about the choices he had ahead, wherever they might lead him.
“Sergeant,”Alexa said over the radio.“We’re sighted on the target. They’ve only got a few soldiers in the center, but it looks like they’re getting braver by the minute. I do have more than a few bodies in the windows of that big building against the hill.”
Dax rubbed his chin.“That’s gonna be a problem.”
“What a wuss,”Alexa said.“Let’s drop some bombs and get this show started.”
“Roger, stand by.”Josh turned to Dax and nodded.“It’s time. I’ll see you on the other side.”The big soldier gripped him by the shoulders and grinned. They smacked each other’s helmets and Dax pulled Josh to his feet.
Josh and the majority of his squad loaded into the first truck, with Dax and a co-driver in the second. A cup of coffee sat cold and half drunk in between the two seats. Taking a deep breath he twisted the ignition lever and the engine turned over. Josh checked the mirrors, catching site of the payload on Dax’s vehicle. Attached to every surface and directed toward the outside of the vehicle, the remaining T19 mines and Composition H plastique turned the car into a guided missile. Getting inside the gate would actually be easy. From the towers, the trucks would look no different than when they’d left, save the gunners weren’t manning the machine guns.
“Dax,”he called out.“Are you sure you can get out in time?”
The big man leaned out from his seat and flashed his teeth. He revved the engine, speeding past Josh as an answer. They started down the road, wheels kicking up plumes of dust the enemy couldn’t miss. With only minutes before the fireworks went off, they were at the point of no return.
* * * * *
Markov couldn’t take his eyes away from the scene. Sasha found it hard to believe his friend had slept at all the last few weeks. During the first month, they’d stayed behind at the post and watched the games through the monitors in their rooms. But once the doctor had found his muse, he couldn’t stop talking about how they had to be in one of the observation platforms, that he couldn’t do his research anywhere else. For his part, Sasha had played the grateful guest and kept his mouth shut. There was no point in getting worked up because of unwelcome company.
The Seraphs were open spaces; there wasn’t a designated or reserved area for any of the VIPs. Markov had snagged a small table and sectional sofa early on, and he had a knack for keeping it secure. Sasha was sure money had exchanged hands once or twice to keep some undesirable from stealing their spot. Dozens of personnel files littered the area, each one a jacket on one of the soldiers from the games. Sergeant Rantz and Corporal Shepard’s faces stared back from their official photographs, along with other men and women from the Black Adders.
Markov had opened up some the day before, having waited months to reveal even the slightest detail about his plans. He told Sasha that they were working on a special-forces project, and that the Rangers provided the best candidates. Amongst the vanguar
d infantrymen, the Black Adders were considered the best. Sasha had asked why they didn’t simply take a few operators from Team Hercules, but the doctor insisted he had a method to his madness. Sasha figured he was on a need-to-know basis and went back to glaring at the diplomat across the room.
Brent hadn’t spoken to them for the last few days, preferring to spend his time schmoozing with the politicians and bourgeoisie. It was a well known and oft lamented fact that the wealthiest citizens of the galaxy used training exercises like these to poach future security personnel for their estates. The situation with the Boxti hadn’t changed that fact much; in fact, it seemed only to exacerbate the situation. Sasha wondered if there would be any soldiers left after the vultures had their fill. More than that, however, he wondered what an operative of the Red Hammer was doing in a room of businessmen and politicians.
The brass had made a bold and unpopular decision to keep the Kronos training area in the dark about the brewing war with an alien race, and the painful attack on Tallus. Those in leadership felt the information would only distract the soldiers during a crucial phase of the games. Others found it completely irresponsible to keep such information from men and women in uniform. Granted, only those still active on the field were oblivious; those“killed in action”had come back to the base to find a dramatically changed universe awaiting them. Brigadier General Casey, Kronos post commander, had considered shutting the entire operation down in lieu of mustering the troops for an eventual deployment. Admiral Walker, now acting as the unofficial Galactic Commander, had all but ordered a swift end to this“pointless training.” Only the urging of the staff kept the Gauntlet running.
Sasha had been loathe to weigh in his opinion on the matter. War would find them all eventually, of that he was sure. Better those few soldiers on the ground enjoy a day more of thinking all was fine in the universe. Right now, those on the sidelines were playing their own sort of game. The politicians were looking for a way to appear butch in front of the press. The rich dogs were looking for protection. Brent was looking for new toys to steal, or maybe trying to learn tactics. With the Red Hammer, it was hard to tell where the line between cowardice and tactics began. Even the military men seemed out of place. Half were chomping at the bit to get out and find the alien menace, the others were trying to draw out their time behind a desk as long as possible. And then there was Markov. He was the strangest of them all.
The infamous Dr. Markov Ivanovich had recruited Sasha from prison. Actually, he had dragged the revolutionary from a holding cell on Phobos after thirteen years of incarceration. Despite having spent the postwar years chained to a wall, the revolutionary was not eager to leave the comfort of a UEC dungeon. To his surprise, Markov told him the old government had been disbanded as part of a treaty with Mars. Not that the Federate sounded like anything more than a new title for the same puppet show, but Sasha couldn’t argue that he was suddenly breathing free air.
Sasha hadn’t been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Phobos had never been known for its hospitality, especially for a rebel officer. For the first year of his incarceration they’d wondered whether he’d even survive his injuries. But he’d never been one to lay down and die. As a soldier he’d been driven by the cause, always looking toward the goal of a free and unified Mars. But now he didn’t know what he stood for. How had he become this scarred old man? And why was he with the irascible synok?
The young scientist stood at a window, a glass of some hideous concoction in his hand. Every few minutes he would speak into his data recorder at a whisper. Sasha didn’t dare interrupt. It wasn’t that Markov would be annoyed, but the Martian had no intention of being sucked into another intellectual debate. Those turned into one-sided battles rather quickly.
Sasha done some research once he’d acclimated to civilian life. Markov had been a genius since childhood, excelling in math and science at an early age. He’d been discovered by the headmaster of a prestigious school for gifted youth by the time he was nine, and entered into Dean Michael’s School of Science. He’d graduated with the class of 2223 and entered into a doctorate program with the Rutherford Group, the military’s top research division. Spending half his time lecturing and the other half inventing fantastic new toys for the men in uniform, Markov quickly earned his stripes as the UEC’s top mind. When Mars revolted, he was chosen to find a swift solution.
His idea had been the CROWN armored suit. The Carbon-Reinforced OverWear Network system had been the brainchild of Markov’s mentor Ian Faust. Utilizing simple neural networking, a single soldier controlled a twelve-foot-tall armored battle suit. The technology used was fairly archaic in comparison to the mechanics used in its design, but the intent had been to create a weapon any soldier could learn to use. Yet even after months of reworking the algorithms that ran the suit, it remained unyielding to the demands of its driver. Several soldiers became stuck inside for hours at a time while the computer forced a reboot. A few experienced mild brain damage from an unexpected feedback loop, which halted the entire experiment and forced Markov to rethink the use of a neural interface versus traditional controls. In the worst case, a test pilot seized during an obstacle course, losing both soldier and suit at the bottom of a lake.
Finally, after a few billion credits had been wasted on his dream, the government cut funding to CROWN and sent Markov off to work the wastelands on Europa for a few years. He spent his time on the frozen rock looking over notes, trying to determine the fatal flaw that had led to his ruin. That time had hardened him, and affected his psyche more than he cared to admit. Though Sasha had not known the doctor in his youth, he could tell the man was far from all right in the head.
In his private corner of the platform, Markov doodled on a tablet while mumbling whatever thought popped into his head. Overwhelmed by curiosity, Sasha moved over and sat down. He looked over the doctor’s shoulder and saw the monitor was still directed at the fledgling guerrilla squad. The entire platform, it seemed, rooted for the underdogs. They had cheered when the ambush on the two trucks went down, and many had fallen silent to watch what would be the final battle of the games. Of course, no one thought the small group of soldiers, determined though they may be, would succeed against Alpha. It wasn’t just a numbers game. Alpha Company had as many well trained combat veterans as anyone, and they had taken their position at the top by planning and reacting intelligently. In any case, it would prove to be entertaining.
“Dr. Ivanovich,”Sasha said, breaking the silence.
The younger man held up a hand.“Please, Sasha. Call me Markov.”
“Okay, Markov then.”He poured himself a glass of water and sipped.“I’d like to talk business. You told me we were coming here to start something.”
“Yes.”
Sasha ran his fingers over his mustache again and again, an old nervous tick.“It’s been several months. I’m sure we’re learning a lot about tactics and all, but what exactly are we doing here? I enjoy watching these kids play at war as much as the next old warrior, but I don’t see the point. Team Hercules operators already have the training and experience you’ll need for your candidates.”
Markov put down his notebook and sighed.“I was always afraid you would leave while we were on Europa.”He stopped Sasha from answering with a raised finger.“I took you out to help me understand how I had failed. I’d like to think you enjoyed your freedom more than you hated the cold.”
“I’m from Mars, comrade. I revel in the cold.”
The doctor smiled wearily.“You’ve seen my notes, and I know we’ve talked about my past before. I thought that my time serving the government had come to an end all too soon, that for all my abilities I had failed to become the man I was supposed to be.”He leaned forward.“I know you understand that feeling. No matter the outcome of the war, you wanted to be a part of that grand finale. And you should have been. History has been cruel to us both, but now we have an opportunity to step into a new chapter. One of our choosing.
“These
games were started for our benefit. Sure, the military loves a good war simulation, but the real purpose is observation. We have an opportunity to repair the mistakes I have made, to give the Army a tool that will serve them well in the coming years.”
Sasha sat up straight on the sofa.“Against the aliens?”
The doctor laughed.“No, this job was given to me over a year ago. But maybe this will help against those creatures as well.”
“And what is that job, Markov?”
The doctor turned back to the monitor. On the screen, the squad leader and his enormous friend were barreling toward the enemy base in the explosive-rigged trucks.“We are going to create the definitive super soldier, one that will never see a worthy opponent. We will train them, equip them, and send them after the enemies of humanity. And we will choose our elite from those below.”
He was about to continue, but a sudden commotion caught his attention. On the other side of the room, two military policemen, weapons drawn, were approaching Brent. The Red Hammer liaison sputtered as the soldiers grabbed him by either arm and began dragging him toward a waiting shuttle. Counsellor Fogwell stormed toward them, veins bulging from his forehead.
“What is the meaning of this?”the politician demanded.
One of the MPs stopped and produced a warrant.“Brent Kerrigan is to be placed under arrest with regards to an attack on Earth.”Brent’s eyes went wide. He either had no idea what was going on, or knew exactly how much trouble he was in.“Admiral Walker put out the order that all Red Hammer personnel, no matter their position in the organization, are to be arrested on sight and remanded to the brig.”
Fogwell stepped in close.“Do you know who I am, boy?”The soldier didn’t flinch. Sasha, watching from the sideline, smirked.“I am a member of the Centurial Council, and I demand you put me in touch with your superior officer. If this warrant doesn’t stand up to the full scrutiny of the law, I will personally ensure that you end up sitting in a jail cell long before Mr. Kerrigan. And you can take that as a personal guarantee.”
When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) Page 21
