by P. A. Piatt
Fortis considered. “Who do you think is doing this? There’s nobody here but us and the GRC.”
Pell snorted. “LT, I don’t trust those corporate fuckers as far as I can throw them. This is my third deployment involving the GRC and they’re always up to something.”
Ystremski slid into the Command console chair and started typing. Two red dots appeared on the display between the ISMC drop zone and the GRC headquarters. “Those are the cameras I saw today, along the line of approach between us and the GRC.” He rolled the cursor northeast of the camp and another red dot appeared on the display. “That’s about where I saw the first one.”
Hawkins gestured at the screen. “Did you see any when you came in from the south?”
“No. It doesn’t mean they weren’t there, but I didn’t see any.”
“Hmm.” Hawkins stared at the display for a second. “Okay, let’s move on.”
Ystremski continued. “It’s bad bush all the way from here to the GRC camp. The jungle thins out in a couple places and the ground is mostly flat, but it’s tough going.”
“DINLI,” said Warrant Officer Pell.
The other three nodded and echoed her. “DINLI.”
“A jungle full of DINLI. Anyway, I didn’t see any sensors in the jungle around their camp, but the GRC knew we were there. A couple test tubes picked up the LT and took him to the meet-and-greet while the rest of us waited in an open-air mess tent.”
“Did you see anything interesting?”
Corporal Ystremski described his observations of the GRC encampment. “I counted twelve test tubes standing sentry; I didn’t see any others. All the buildings were pre-fab inflatable jobs. There are ten troop tents lined up behind the headquarters, enough for a thousand soldiers, give or take. I didn’t see any armored vehicles or tracks from armored vehicles, but I saw at least six four-wheeled vehicles.”
“Defensive positions?”
“It’s weird, but I didn’t see any. No holes, no sandbagged strong points. Nothing. It’s like they’re camping, without a care in the galaxy.”
As Ystremski talked, Kilfoy entered the information about the GRC compound. It amazed Fortis to hear the details that the corporal recalled. While Fortis had been glad-handing with Beck and Nesbitt, Ystremski had paced off the entire area around the HQ building and observed several sentry locations. When Ystremski finished, he turned to Fortis.
“Anything to add, sir?”
Fortis’ cheeks burned. “I confess, I didn’t think to collect any intelligence. I can tell you what the reception area looks like and how to get to the main office, but that’s about it.”
“Don’t worry about it, sir. Lesson learned for next time. Now, tell us about the meeting.”
“A guy named Beck is in charge. Nesbitt is the security manager. They weren’t exactly heartbroken to hear about Lieutenant Baker. I don’t think they like us very much. They didn’t even want to set up a comm circuit between camps.”
Warrant Pell snorted. “Typical.”
“They told me they sent a schedule change to Captain Reese last week but heard nothing back, so they went ahead with their testing without us.”
“See what I mean?” Warrant Pell threw her hands up in disgust. “Those bastards are always up to something. I bet they did it on purpose because there’s no way we could have gotten here last week.”
“On a whim, I asked if the colony had some cold storage we could use to hold Lieutenant Baker’s body for the next couple weeks. Nesbitt wouldn’t even consider it; he denied us any contact with the colonists.”
“Huh. That’s odd.” Hawkins rubbed his chin. “Anything else, sir?”
“The only real people I saw were Beck and Nesbitt. Everyone else was a test tube.”
“What about the return patrol? Any problems?”
Ystremski zoomed the master display out until it was ten kilometers on each side, centered on the ISMC camp. He interfaced his navigation aid with the computer and a series of waypoints appeared on the screen.
“Here’s our return. It was easier going than heading straight back until we ran into the giant crevasse, right here. Lieutenant Fortis sent a squad to recon south for a couple klicks, but the crack only got wider the further they went. We turned north, back into the thick stuff. That’s where we ran into the bugs and lost Watters. It looked like he dove for cover and landed on a bug; stuck him under the chin.”
“Bad luck.”
“DINLI.”
Fortis nodded. “DINLI.”
Ystremski continued, “We got Watters prepped for travel and didn’t get two more klicks before we found this.”
He tapped the keyboard and a picture of the crater appeared. Pell whistled and Hawkins leaned forward in his chair.
“The crater is about thirty meters across and twenty meters deep. The dirt in the crater and around the rim is glass and nothing is growing, which is why we think a nuke went off there. The whole place is jungle except this.” He sent a picture of the tower to the screen. “I don’t know what it is, why it’s Number Four, or where the other three are.” Ystremski tapped the keyboard again, and a picture of the jungle growing up to the rim of the crater appeared. “Whatever happened there, it’s been several years.”
“Did you collect any samples?”
The corporal shook his head. “Didn’t think of it at the time. Even if we wanted to, we weren’t equipped to measure radiation or collect samples and I didn’t want to dig anything up without knowing if we were cooking our balls.” Warrant Pell laughed, and the corporal blushed.
“Anyway, Gunny, we left the crater and humped two hours to get home. I didn’t see any cameras or sensors south of the compound on our way in. Did you, LT?”
Fortis shook his head.
“We had a few bugs come in from the northeast after we removed part of the jungle to create the firing range,” said Gunny Hawkins. He looked at Fortis. “LT, with your approval I’d like to send a squad to reconnoiter to the north tomorrow and see if they can find out where the bugs are coming from. Maybe there’s a nest we can burn out.”
“Yeah, Gunny, that’s a good idea. Do it. You think it’s worth sending another squad south to conduct a full recon of the crater?”
“Sir, how about sending a drone instead?” Warrant Pell injected. “My techs can do a complete photographic survey of the area with no risk to the Space Marines.”
Fortis looked at Hawkins, who nodded.
“Makes sense, LT. We don’t have any equipment to analyze samples, so we might as well wait until we’re ready to leave to collect them. I don’t want a bunch of radioactive shit around here any longer than need be.”
“It’s settled then. Warrant, go ahead with the drone survey, and see if you can figure out what that tower is. Maybe do some high-altitude recon and see if there are other structures like Number Four in the area.”
* * * * *
Chapter Ten
Later that night, Abner sat in the red light of the command mech and stared at a blank computer screen. He had to submit his daily report to Captain Reese, and he knew his commanding officer would be unhappy about Watters’ death. Fortunately, he didn’t have to make the report face to face. The twelve days remaining on their deployment might blunt the captain’s displeasure, but it was an unpleasant task.
Sergeant Kilfoy, who had the evening watch in the command mech, chuckled at his obvious unease.
“DINLI, sir.”
Fortis sighed. “It would be easier if there wasn’t dead Space Marines involved.”
Kilfoy leaned forward and stared at the main display. “Hey, LT, check this out.”
The pair watched the movement sensors along the eastern perimeter lit up in succession as something or someone moved along the boundary of their position.
“He’s quiet,” she told Fortis. “The noise monitors aren’t picking up anything.”
“Reconnaissance?”
“Beats me, sir. Who would recon our perimeter in the dark?”
“There’s not much we can do, sir. It could be a bug following a trail, or it might be a Space Marine looking for a private place to jerk… ah… well, a private place to be alone.”
“Outside the minefield?”
Kilfoy shrugged. “LT, stay in the ISMC long enough, and you’ll see everything.” She rolled her cursor over the last motion sensor to detect movement and clicked on the closest manned position. “There. The guys will keep an eye on that vector with their night vision. If they see something, they’ll let me know.”
Fortis watched for a few more minutes, but the sensors were no longer picking up movement and their icons had stopped flashing. He turned back to the computer and started to type his report. The standard language of official ISMC reports was usually dry and emotionless, and what Fortis wrote was little more than a timeline. He recounted the patrol to the GRC headquarters in two sentences and excluded any information about the suspected cameras in the tree line. Beck and Nesbitt also received only a brief mention, and he did not include any of the intelligence Corporal Ystremski had collected on the corporate encampment. The death of Watters and the discovery of the crater got the same treatment. He captured the events of the entire day in two tight paragraphs.
Abner understood the need for brief, emotionless reports, but he resolved to keep a detailed journal to capture his thoughts and feelings of the current events.
The computer terminal beeped when Fortis hit “transmit,” and the comms gear translated his report into a binary stream and fired it into space for Atlas to receive.
“You want some coffee, sir?” Kilfoy held up a pot that had been sitting on a burner on a table next to the access hatch. She made a big show of sniffing the steam. “Fresh-brewed from yesterday’s dirty socks.”
Fortis’ stomach backflipped at the offer, and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Thanks for the offer, Sergeant, but I don’t think my stomach could take it. Besides,” he groaned to his feet. “I want to get some shut-eye tonight.”
Kilfoy smiled as she set the pot down. “Maybe some other time then, LT.”
“Good night, Kilfoy.”
“Good night, sir.”
Fortis almost screamed when a tall figured loomed out of the darkness outside the command mech. It was Gunny Hawkins.
“Evening, LT.”
“Hey, Gunny. You about scared me to death, coming out of the dark like that. How’s it going?”
“All quiet, but I guess you’d know better than me, since you were in the command mech.”
“Oh, yeah. I was writing a report for the CO. Kilfoy saw some movement on the eastern perimeter, but nothing developed.”
“I’ve got something for you, LT.” Hawkins held out a hand, and in the near-darkness, Fortis made out a battered tin mess mug. “DINLI.”
“DINLI?” Abner took the mug in both hands and sniffed. The raw alcohol smell burned his nose, and he almost gagged.
“Yes, sir. DINLI. Fresh from the tap. The still took some damage during the drop, but the lads worked hard and got it brewing. DINLI.”
Hawkins tapped his mug to Fortis’ and the young officer steeled himself. Gunny Hawkins tipped a small splash onto the ground, and Fortis followed suit.
“Baker and Watters.”
“Baker and Watters.”
The fiery alcohol stole Abner’s breath the instant it crossed his lips, and he choked and gagged as he poured it into his mouth, his lungs, and all over his face. He hacked and coughed while Hawkins laughed and pounded him on the back.
“Good stuff, sir.”
Fortis’ nose ran uncontrollably, and tears poured from his eyes as his body fought to cleanse itself of the potent hooch. Off in the darkness, other Space Marines heard his distress, and laughter floated across the clearing.
When he got his choking under control, Fortis straightened and took several deep breaths.
“That burns,” he croaked.
“Was that your first time, LT?”
Fortis nodded.
“I forgot you’re a cherry, or I would have cut it with some water. Wait here a second, sir.”
Hawkins returned in a couple minutes and handed the mug back to Fortis. “Try that one.”
Fortis sniffed it, but the alcohol fumes didn’t sting his nostrils like the first mug.
“Much better.”
“Follow me topside, LT.”
Hawkins turned and led Fortis up the sandbag staircase that led to the fighting position the Marines had built atop the command mech. By the time the pair reached the top, Abner’s eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness, and he could see the clearing spread out around them.
“Good view,” he told Hawkins, who grunted in agreement.
“Let’s try this again, sir.” Hawkins held out his mug. “DINLI.”
Fortis tapped his mug to Hawkins’. “DINLI.”
They poured a splash out onto the sandbags and then threw back the fiery liquid. It still stole Abner’s breath away, but the second shot went down smoother than the first.
“How was that? Better?”
“Much better. Still burned, but it was a lot smoother.”
Hawkins chuckled. “I’m glad to hear you say that, LT. I didn’t cut it at all; that was full strength. It’d be disrespectful to water it down.”
“I guess that first shot cauterized my face, because the second one didn’t hurt at all.”
Both men laughed. It wasn’t that funny, but once Fortis started laughing, he couldn’t stop. The warmth burning in his belly had melted away the stress and fatigue of the past two days, and he released it all as he laughed.
After Fortis got his laughter under control, the pair sat in silence. The sky was bright with stars, and the only thing missing to make Fortis believe he was back on Terra Earth was crickets chirping.
“Hey, Gunny, what did Corporal Ystremski mean the other day when he said Doc Kramer has a history with Captain Reese? Remember? It was right after Lieutenant Baker died.”
“Hmm.”
For a long second Abner didn’t think the senior NCO would answer.
“It’s like this, LT. Kramer is a doctor. A real, no-shit med school doctor.”
“No kidding?”
“Yeah. A few years back, Doc graduated from medical school with a couple billion credits in student loans and two years of slavery as an intern in some hospital. The ISMC told him that if he did two years as a corpsman they’d make him a captain, post him to the Fleet hospital ship, and pay off his student loans.”
Fortis snorted. “Damn.”
“After his two years was up, the crazy fucker decided he enjoyed being a corpsman, so he turned down the promotion.”
“That’s nuts.”
“Yeah. Anyway, Reese, who’s not exactly a people person—”
“I’ve heard the term ‘asshole’ mentioned,” injected Fortis.
“You’ve been hanging around the mech crews too much, sir.” Hawkins chuckled. “So, Reese got wind of it, and he decided it offended him. He started needling Doc Kramer, you know? It was petty bullshit, little remarks and insults. Nothing too bad, just a steady poke. Bullying. It went on for months.
“About a year ago, we were on liberty in the Eros Cluster. Captain Reese and two of his buddies from the brigade staff ran into Doc Kramer, Ystremski, and a bunch of the other guys drinking and blowing off steam. Reese started in on Kramer, who finally decided he’d had his fill of Reese’s shit. He jumped up to punch the captain, but Ystremski got there first.”
“Ystremski punched the captain?”
“Starched him with one punch.”
“Unbelievable.”
“You know Ystremski used to be a gunnery sergeant, right?”
Fortis gaped in the dark. “Are you serious?”
“Yep. He swore the punch was an accident, that he jumped between them to prevent a fight, but the court martial jury didn�
��t buy it. Got himself busted down to corporal and ninety days in the brig for slugging Captain Reese.”
“What an incredible story.”
“Ystremski could have taken a bad conduct discharge after he got out of the brig, but he stayed in the Corps. For his sins, they sent him back to Foxtrot Company. We’re damn lucky to have him, even as a corporal.”
* * * * *
Chapter Eleven
Fortis joined the off-duty Marines the next morning at the rifle range. Accurate shooting was a core competency for the ISMC, and the heavy gravity of Pada-Pada required them to acclimate themselves and their various weapons to how they would react in the unfamiliar environment.
The atmosphere on the range was loose but professional. There was good-natured ribbing for errant shots, but the Space Marines were deadly serious about honing their own skills and those of their mates. Despite being an officer, Abner was the subject of hoots and jeers when his first shots plowed into the dirt well short of his target. The laughter turned to a quiet buzz of approval when he adjusted his line of fire and drilled the target.
After every Marine proved their proficiency with rifles, the range master broke out crates of rifle grenades and the shooters peppered the jungle with a barrage of explosive shells.
“Lieutenant Fortis, this is Command. Report to the command mech, please.” Warrant Officer Pell’s voice crackled with urgency, and Fortis headed for the mech.
Inside, he found Pell, Hawkins, and Kilfoy clustered around the display screen, looking at a blurry overhead image of the jungle.
“What’s up, Warrant?”
“You need to see this, sir.”
Kilfoy clicked her mouse and the blurry image sharpened.
“We sent a drone up to recon around the crater, like we talked about last night. The drone operator conducted a high-altitude survey and then descended to collect some detailed shots of the crater and the tower. Then this happened.”
Fortis saw a flash from the edge of the jungle. The drone video shook violently, rolled to a view of the sky, and went black.
