The woman looked down for a moment, then back up, her eyes meeting his across the light years and the days. “I miss you, Cornelius. I tried not to fall in love with you. I didn’t want to fall for another combat soldier, to see another man I cared for go off to war and not come back. But despite my misgivings I did fall for you. There’s nothing I can do to protect you. All I can do is ask you to look out for yourself, and try your best to come back. In your darkest hour, when all seems hopeless, remember that I love you. So please come back.”
The message ended, and Cornelius found himself crying. He had really given up on ever loving again after Katlyn had been killed. All he had to live for was his need for revenge. Now he had found someone, and the war had separated them. “I love you too,” he said, trying to remember if he had put that in the last message. Not sure, he recorded another and made sure that he said the words.
The next morning they had the briefing they had been waiting for. The entire company was gathered in the briefing room, all the combat Rangers at this base. All had been told that the bodies were no longer on this base, they had been sent up the line after the initial scans so that people with greater scientific skills could look at them. From there they had been sent off planet through the wormhole.
A science type, someone who wasn’t really in the military, though they held an officer’s rank, stood at the front of the room, sharing the platform with a holo that showed one of the creatures in a rotating three dimensional view.
“We have tagged these creatures as Hunters,” said the man, pointing at the holo. “As to what they call themselves, we have no idea. As far as we can tell they are natural creatures. The characteristic tags of genetic engineering are missing, which does not prove they weren’t altered in generations past. But we find it unlikely. Instead, it looks like the Hunters evolved on a very dangerous world, possibly a Class I.”
People mumbled and whispered to each other throughout the room. Class I worlds were considered too dangerous for human habitation, despite all of their technology. If the aliens actually evolved on such a world they would have to be as dangerous as the things around them, which was not a comforting thought.
“The Hunters are built along the plan of a pack predator. Their bodies are long and lean, probably indicative of a speed hunter, though their lung capacity shows an ability of great endurance. They have strong muscles attached to an optimal skeleton that gives them great leverage. Their skin is covered with a fur that is the consistency of tough wire, giving them the ability to resist damage far beyond all but the thickest skinned of animals.”
The man looked at the holo and the image centered on one of the creature’s paws. It closed and then opened, going from what looked like an animal paw with numerous pads to a hand with much the same dexterity as the human one. And in both configurations it sported sharp claws. “The Hunters seem to be equally at home running on all fours or standing upright. And these claws, which are obviously an evolutionary construct, are able to pivot to where they can be deployed in both modes. What is not an evolutionary construct are the monomolecular blades that have been bonded to the claws, making these instruments as deadly as any of the blade weapons you men carry.”
The holo shifted again, to the head of the creature. “The jaws are also pure death, with each tooth sheathed in ultrasharp alloys. The jaw muscles exert pressures in the same range as that of a Terran shark per square centimeter. The sensorium of the creature is also superior, with very efficient eyes and ears, though probably not in quite the same range as your augmented senses. And here we come to the most terrifying aspect of the Hunters. Their brains. From the size and neuron density we can surmise that they are at least as intelligent as we are. And the nervous system is on the order of the augmented. In conclusion, you would be well served to keep a close lookout for these things while on patrol. And I would kill them at range if possible. Any questions?”
“Why don’t these things run the Caca Empire?” asked the Captain, raising his hand. “I mean, they seem to be the superior life form.”
“All we can surmise is that they were still in a primitive state when the Cacas discovered them,” said the scientist. “Like most cultures the Ca’cadsans have absorbed, they had little chance or choice when they were discovered.”
There were some more questions, mostly in the realm of speculation that the lecturer could not answer. But everyone left the lecture with a new respect for what might await them in the jungle. Or maybe that was fear.
Chapter Nineteen
We have war when at least one of the parties to a conflict wants something more than it wants peace. Jeane Kirkpatrick.
AZURE. MAY 9TH - 10th, 1001.
That’s it, thought Rebecca, looking at the rock formations on the side of the mountain and checking her position. She had only seen the refuge from the air before, or on the ground right outside of it. Nothing else she had seen on the mountainsides on the way here had looked familiar, not like this.
She lay there for almost an hour, using the field glasses she had packed to scan the area. It looked unoccupied, which was how it should be, even if there were someone there. A refuge that looked like it was occupied, especially from the air, was not much of a hideout. She found a dark area on the mountainside, just behind the flat region that would have been the landing pad for her family. It looked like a cave entrance. They had planned to provide cover for that opening when they had started their habitation. That it hadn’t been done was a sign that the cave hadn’t been inhabited. Or had it?
Something moved, and she focused the glasses on that area, seeing a hunched over figure at the entrance to the cavern. At this distance she couldn’t tell if it was human or Caca. Caca meant the refuge was closed to her. Human? Maybe, maybe not. She continued to study the figure, which stayed hunched down in a stance that didn’t allow her to see the number of its limbs. She was also having problems with the scale. Was it a less than two meter tall being, or one over three?
A second figure joined the first, and they squatted there, looking out over the area in front of the cave and beyond. They were obviously talking, and one waved a hand at the open area, then looked up at the sky.
Come on, thought the child, the sweat rolling down her face as she continued to watch. Move out where I can see what you are.
Almost as if in obedience to her thoughts the second figure stood up and walked out into the clear area, heading for the spring that was near the south end of the small plateau. Rebecca almost whooped for joy as she saw the easily recognizable motion of a human walking. She focused in the glasses and saw that the being only had two upper limbs, swinging with the walk, one holding an empty water container.
So, do I take the chance that they might let me in, or do I just go away? she thought. Looking over her shoulder at the jungle behind her she shuddered. She was surviving in that jungle, barely. That could change any day now. There had been some near misses in the last couple of days, and it would only take one hit by a native life form to kill her. She glanced up at the sun that was beating down on her. Clouds were gathering on the horizon, a sign that the afternoon deluge was gathering. She thought it would be nice to be dry again. The survival suit kept the rain off of most of her body, but the humidity went everywhere.
I’ll just be careful, she thought, getting up and moving back into the jungle to start working her way to the refuge. It took several hours of hard going to work her way within earshot of the cave. She was still a dozen meters down the mountainside, out of sight from the cave, conversely not able to see what was going on up there.
She climbed those last dozen meters, her muscles aching under the pull of gravity that wanted to deposit her at the bottom. She could hear voices now, a couple of people talking. She thought they were male voices. The chances were greater that women would let her in. Not that men wouldn’t, but as a, as of this day, thirteen year old with a developing body, there were other risks with men in a situation where societal norms had broken down
.
She climbed the last meter, looking over the rocks while exposing as little of her face as possible. There were now three people at the entrance, all male. A fourth male was returning from the spring, a full water container in his hand. She studied the men, still not sure what to make of them. That they were using the refuge her family put together went without question. That would not be a problem, since her family had not come, but she still needed it.
She saw another man come out of the cave, this one in partial light battle armor, the type the planetary militia wore. That gave her a bit more hope. If they were militia they would surely have an officer, or at least an NCO, in charge. With that thought she scrambled up the last bit of slope and rose into sight.
The men at the cave all jumped and pointed, and some weapons made their appearance. They calmed a bit as they saw that she was just a child. She didn’t like some of the looks that came across the faces of the group. They made her distinctly uncomfortable.
“Where the hell did you come from, girl?” asked the oldest looking of the men, one wearing the torso covering of light battle armor and a partial helmet.
“From the jungle,” she said, her eyes looking for a way out, just in case this had been as bad a decision as it was now looking. She looked back at the man. “This place was my family’s. We set it up when the aliens came.”
“And where is this family of yours?”
“They didn’t make it. Are you militia? My father is a reserve officer. Is there any way you can contact him?”
“We were militia,” said the man with a sneer. “Until those sons of bitches wanted to throw us away trying to slow them down, for no damned reason. Now we’re on our own.”
Deserters, she thought with a shudder. What the hell did I get myself into?
“How old are you, girl?” asked another of the men, moving toward her.
“Ten,” she said, lying, hoping that they would decide she was too young for whatever game they wanted to play.
“You look a lot older than that, girl,” said the older man who seemed to be in charge. “We don’t have any women here. And you sure could fill the bill.”
Thoughts of gang rape started to go through her head, and she started to back toward the place where she had climbed onto the small plateau.
“You stop right there, girl,” said the man, pulling a pistol from the holster at his side. “We won’t hurt you, not really. You play with us, we’ll make sure you’re protected and fed.”
Rebecca knew about sex. She had learned about it in biology courses. And she knew she was too young, and didn’t want to have anything to do with it at her age. She would become a sex slave to these men, all of them using her whenever they wanted. Her internal nanites would keep her from getting pregnant, and protect her from disease. Still, the idea of being used by these deserters was not her first choice, or her last.
“Stop,” said the man, pointing the pistol at her. “If you take another step I will shoot you.”
And he doesn’t know I’m wearing a military class survival suit, she thought, looking at the pistol, then at the nearby rocks. They also don’t know what kind of weapon I have.
With that last thought she dove for the ground. Something smacked into her suit, which went rigid from the impact. Rolling over she came to a stop behind the rocks and pulled her particle beam pistol from its holster. A flick of her finger and the weapon’s accelerator started humming and whining.
“Come out of there and you won’t be hurt,” yelled the leader. “Make us come for you and it will go hard for you.”
I can imagine, she thought, checking the pistol and seeing that the proton charge was up to full acceleration.
One man came around the rocks and caught the particle beam in the chest. The nearly relativistic particles ripped into his body and vaporized kilograms of tissue, dropping him into a smoking heap on the ground.
Rebecca stared at the man for a moment. She had never killed a human. She had of course killed a Ca’cadasan, and many animals, but never another human being. She thought that she should have felt shock. Instead it was rage that was the dominant emotion. Rage that these people had made her a killer of her own kind.
“Fuck you,” she yelled out, looking around the rock and leveling her weapon at the cave mouth. A half dozen shocked looking men stood there, some pointing weapons her way. A couple fired, the worst thing they could have done.
The girl pulled the trigger on the pistol and held it down, swinging the beam across the mouth of the cave. Three men went down with catastrophic wounds while the others ran into the cave. The beam tore into the rock, shattering large pieces that fell into the mouth.
“This is mine,” she yelled, still holding the trigger down even when the weapon stopped firing. “I will be back, and I want you gone.”
She wasn’t sure that was the truth, but in her anger she wanted to panic them. She looked down at the pistol, afraid that she had broken something, and was relieved to see that the blinking light indicated that the proton pack was empty. She only had one left, and she cursed herself for a fool for letting her anger rule her.
Rebecca slipped back over the lip of the plateau and started down the slope. Her shoulder blades cringed at the thought that the men might come out of the cave and shoot at her from above. Her suit might protect her from a few shots, but with enough there was sure to be a hit to her head, or a penetration of the suit.
She reached bottom without incident, saying a prayer of thanks before she realized what she was doing. Stopping for a moment, she looked back up at the mountain, wondering what she was going to do now that the refuge was closed to her. I could wait and see if they leave, she thought, rejecting that idea as soon as she had it. They might never leave, and she wasn’t sure she could force herself into another firefight. Having to fire back was one thing. Starting a battle in which she intended to kill other humans was quite another.
Rebecca shook her head, knowing that waiting here was not the answer. But where to from here? She checked the map and saw that there were several villages and a minor town within five days walk. There was no guarantee that they were intact, or that she would be able to shelter there if they were. Seeing no other option, she took a compass reading, set her location on the inertial navigation device, and started on her way.
* * *
Major Joseph Goldman looked down on the seemingly endless jungle below, starting to feel the fruitlessness of this search. He had searched the village, and found nothing. The Cacas had come and taken the bodies of their own with them. He had found the incinerated remains of a human, which he thought must have been his son, Benjamin. He took a sample that could be tested later, just to make sure. But he had the testimony of the Rangers that a small boy who had been with Rebecca had died. He could think of none other that it might be.
A couple of hours search in the jungle had revealed no trace of his daughter. He knew he was no tracker, and that tracks that had been laid down almost a week before in an active jungle environment would be gone. He had finally given it up as a hopeless task and had headed back to his aircar.
Flying over the jungle had been no more effective. There was almost a hundred meters of vegetation from the top of the canopy to the ground, with an animal density not to be believed by anyone who had not encountered such a jungle. The chances of spotting a lone child in that mass, no matter how sensitive the instruments, were truly astronomical.
On several occasions he had been spotted by something from the ground. The first time some projectiles and a brief particle beam had come up at him. Only a good set of reflexes had saved him that time. On the second a missile had come at him, and only a quick dive that had brought him under the canopy, and almost into a massive trunk, had saved him.
Now he was flying through a rainstorm, the daily cloudburst that sent torrents of water into the thirsty jungle almost every afternoon. It was really the only safe time to fly, though it made his aerial platform useless for observation.
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There’s only one way I’m going to find her, he thought, turning the car on a heading for a known point. The refuge is the only place I have a chance of locating her. And if she’s not there yet, I’ll have to stay until she comes.
An hour later he saw the small plateau come into view. There was no mistaking the place where he had hoped his family would find shelter from the aliens. A tear ran down his cheek as he circled over the place, feelings of lost hope running through him. She’s got to be here, he thought, setting the car down on the plateau. She’s got to be.
He went out through the driver’s side door and drew his weapon. It would not do to take chances here. Someone else might have found the refuge, and that someone might not be friendly. A shot pinging off the aircar while another stiffened the shoulder of his suit let him know that his fears had not been groundless.
Goldman dropped to the ground and crawled behind the aircar, while shots continued to bounce from the hard shell of the vehicle. He pulled his pistol, then activated the accelerator. “Cease fire,” he yelled. “I’m Major Joseph Goldman. I’m looking for my daughter.”
“Christ,” yelled out one of the people who had him pinned down. “It’s the little bitch’s old man.”
Little bitch, thought Goldman with a grimace. That doesn’t sound good. “What do you know about my daughter?”
“She took a long time to die,” said one of the men. “And we really enjoyed her little body.”
Goldman shook with rage. They killed her. He thought about his little girl being molested by cruel men before being killed for sport. He took a couple of breaths and willed himself to calm down. They want me to lose control. To go wild and attack them without thought for myself.
He crawled to the side of the vehicle and poked the pistol around where its optics could get a good view. His implant was linked to the weapon, and he saw what it saw. The weapon itself was a small target, one that might be easily missed. The Major tracked the weapon around until he saw something, then leveled it to take a good look. He saw the face of a man looking over the barrel of a militia class mag rifle. That face seemed to recognize the pistol at that moment, and the rifle started to swing toward it.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 05 - Ranger Page 26
