Dead Force Box Set

by S D Tanner

  Resisting the urge to shout at the man, he calmly asked, “Give me numbers.”

  “Can no do, sir. Situation is not stable.”

  It meant more were appearing all the time, and they would soon be overwhelmed. “Alpha leads, report in.”

  They’d cleared thirty rooms, and he didn’t have time to listen to every reply. One-by-one, they reported robot gunners were materializing, but he didn’t care. They were at their own recognizance, required to use their initiative to hold their room inside the city. He had bigger problems to solve and, one way or another, he had to get inside the room Jessica was in. If he was forced to leave the city, then she would be coming with him dead or alive. While his battalion had orders to hold the city, his mission was to save Jessica, and he couldn’t afford to get caught up in a fight against the robot gunners.

  “Alpha leads, I need two of the best fireteams assigned to me.”

  Robot Jessica was by his side, seemingly uninterested in the firefight around her, only now she grabbed his arm. “Save me.”

  Glancing down at her, it was the first time he’d seen genuine fear on the robot’s face. “I am saving you, Jessica. I’m on my way.”

  “Hurry.”

  Torn between wanting to find her and understanding why she was so frightened, he hesitated. “What’s coming?”

  Instead of answering, robot Jessica began pushing through the soldiers in front of them. “We must go now.”

  Although he agreed with her, it was easier said than done. With two fireteams trailing behind him, they drove between the jogging soldiers, sprinting toward what he hoped was the room with Jessica.

  “Jessica, wait. Where are you going?”

  “To me.”

  They hadn’t been inside this part of the city before, but robot Jessica was elbowing her way past the heavily armored soldiers as if she knew where she was going. Being so much shorter and smaller than the armored men and women, she was ducking and weaving between them, almost getting lost amongst their dark armor and weapons. If he didn’t follow her now, he might lose track of her.

  “Alpha-Six teams, on me.”

  “Roger that.”

  Robot Jessica had led them away from the troops, filing through a gap leading out of the room and was running her hands along the wall. “What are you doing?”

  “Opening a door.”

  “How?”

  Continuing to run her hands in a wide circle across the wall, the middle of it shuddered and then pulled away until an opening appeared. “Can anyone do that or just you?”

  The robot was already walking through the door and into the next room. Seeming confused by his question, robot Jessica replied, “It is how you open doors.”

  It would have been useful to know that during their recon to the city and he sighed. “Alpha-Six to all battalions. Create openings in the walls by running your hand over it in a wide circle.”

  “Say again, Tag,” Judge replied, but he sounded distracted.

  “Neat trick,” Rok said.

  “That doesn’t work,” Ash added, sounding disappointed.

  Judge muttered, “Should have told us that in the briefing.”

  He could have told Judge he hadn’t known how to make the wall open into a gap, but the man already knew what he did. On reflection, maybe he’d made the wrong call when he hadn’t brought robot Jessica to the city on their last recon. Other than when it came to Daisy, regret wasn’t even a word he used, much less felt. His way of dealing with anything was to punch through it, never looking back nor wondering what could have been. It was the way he’d dealt with his life and there was no reason to change it now he was dead. Dismissing his mistake as inconsequential, he followed robot Jessica through the door.

  The walls inside the city were at least two feet thick and, once the two fireteams were inside the next room, robot Jessica waved her hand across the gap, making it shudder and grow until it sealed, giving no hint the doorway had ever been there. With the wall intact, the sounds of gunfire vanished and he was standing inside a silent and empty room. He was about to ask robot Jessica where to go next, but she was already skipping across the floor. Stopping in the middle of the room, she ran her hand across the floor until a hole formed in front of her.

  Pointing at the hole, she said, “Go here.”

  On board the Extrema, robot Jessica had a mechanical edge to her voice and mannerisms, but the closer they were getting to the real woman, the more fluid her movement and tone were becoming. No longer just a puppet to a living master, this woman was confident, almost bossy in a way the robot Jessica had never been.

  Crouching above the hole, he stuck his head through it, peering into the white room. It looked like every other room in the city, so he dropped to his rear and dangled his legs over the edge. Like the walls, the floor was two feet thick and he dropped into the room. His boots failed to grip on the smooth surface and he tumbled forward onto his knees. Rising to his feet, he caught robot Jessica as she dropped the twelve feet to the floor. One-by-one, the men and women in his two fireteams followed him into the room, but robot Jessica had already made another hole in the floor and was beckoning him through it.

  It had taken less than five minutes, but he’d gone from being in command of his mission to becoming a follower, and he dropped through the next hole into another empty room.

  “Alpha-Six to all battalions, what’s your status?”

  “Taking fire. Holding ground,” Judge replied.

  “Got more robot gunners,” Rok said.

  “Judge, protect the production lines.”

  “Way to show leadership, Tag. What about us?” Rok replied, but it didn’t sound like he really cared.

  “Same old, same old, Alpha-Six,” Ash said, still sounding disappointed.

  “Alpha-Six to Yankee-Six, status of wounded?”

  “Deal with your own shit, Tag,” Joker replied.

  Robot Jessica was leading them in what seemed to be a straight line down the city, which came to an abrupt end when he landed inside a room he recognized. The tubes that contained aliens were once again filled with more reptilians and elongated gray ones. Unlike their previous visits, his anger at seeing the tubes stuffed with living creatures was less conceptual as it was a deep fury at seeing one of their allies being abused. Grunt and his troops were working with his, protecting them with their lives as if they belonged to the same army. He felt responsible for them, feeling their suffering just as he would have if they’d been his own men inside the tubes.

  “Alpha-Six to Yankee-Six, I need more of Grunt’s harnesses.”

  He was already taking aim, ready to shoot the base of the tubes and free his allies when Joker replied, “We emptied the other arks of gear, so I’ve got about seven more.”

  “Teleport them to my position.”

  “Roger that.”

  The tubes were shattering onto the floor, letting out a clear fluid as the aliens splashed down. Slithering as if they were being born, the reptiles and elongated aliens skidded across the wet floor, and then quickly climbed to their feet. One of Grunt’s type stood to its full of height of seven feet, then spun on its claws and growled at him. Before it had a chance to even contemplate attacking, seven harnesses appeared between them. Its growls were replaced with snarls, which meant the oversized lizard was happy.

  Hanging from the ceiling, the elongated and gray aliens were twisting their heads to look at their partner prisoners and then at him. Their curved, black eyes gave no hint as to how they felt, but one of them dropped from the ceiling. Standing only five feet tall, it reached a long, thin arm toward him, placing its bony hand against his chest. Where his mind had been filled with thoughts about the firefight, the images were replaced with a desert-like planet and spinning flat disks, which for some reason he knew were space-worthy. He was sharing his mind with the alien and, although it was interesting to know he could, he didn’t want to.

  Shaking his head, he pu
lled the alien’s hand from his chest. “No time.”

  “You will rescue the alien.”

  The voice was smoothly modulated, much like an upmarket presenter, but the gray alien’s mouth hadn’t moved. It was in his head and talking to him through his mind although he wasn’t sure if the link was to the biological or mechanical part of his brain. Inwardly, he recoiled at the idea of something tapping his thoughts, but that worry was replaced by another about Jessica. Why had the creature called her an alien? She was human, but where he saw the elongated creature as an alien, he supposed it might see her as one. The sudden shift of perspective confused him, but he didn’t have time ask the creature any questions, much less argue about the definition of an alien.

  “Join us.”

  Shaking its head and almost seeming sad, the voice spoke inside his head. “We cannot.”

  Recalling how they had attacked the Defensors during his last recon, he frowned in confusion. “But you fought for us before.”

  The creature’s eyes seemed to stare at him for a moment, then it sprung upward and clung to the ceiling. Whatever it had learned about him during their brief connection hadn’t been enough to win its support. Scuttling across the ceiling, it disappeared with the others through a gap in the wall. Grunt’s troopers had already slid inside their harnesses and they turned to face him, clearly waiting for their orders. Before he could wonder how to talk to them, a dozen robot gunners materialized inside the room. Each standing on four stumpy legs, they spun in unison. Without a head, it was impossible to know what was forward for the machines, but the barrel of their guns told a different story. The band around their round middle whirred and turned until a dozen guns were pointing at his squad.

  He grabbed one Grunt’s men by its harness and pointed at the gunners. “Kill ‘em!”

  Almost as a single mind, the lizards turned to face the gunners, extending their arms as they did. He already knew the next room was Jessica’s, and he grabbed the robot version of her by the arm.

  “Gotta go.”

  As he dragged her through the gap in the wall that led to Jessica, the room behind him erupted in gunfire, some from his squad, but more from the robot gunners. Finding Grunt’s troops held prisoner had been the kind of luck he’d been banking on. They could hold Jessica’s room secure, for a while at least. Closing the door behind him, he and robot Jessica were left in quiet and cool silence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Kicking Ass

  “Yankee-Six to Alpha-Six, incoming beacons headed for your position.”

  Although he appreciated the update from Joker, he was busy. Robot Jessica was balanced on top of his shoulders and he was looking up at her, watching every move she made. The living version of Jessica was naked and hanging at an angle from the wall, but unlike his last visit, her eyes were now open. Pieces of wire were falling past his face as robot Jessica pulled and tugged them from her body. It seemed there was a sequence to safely removing the wires and she seemed confident, but it was taking more time than he had.

  “Hurry up.”

  “Say again, Alpha-Six,” Joker replied.

  “Not talking to you, Joker.”

  “I’m counting over a hundred beacons converging on your cities.”

  “Where’s Hawk?”

  “You mean Papa-Six?”

  “You know who I mean.”

  “Papa-Six to Alpha-Six, we are inflight to your position.”

  Hawk’s radio voice was always smooth in a way it never was in regular life. Robot Jessica pulled out a tube and it slid past his head, hitting his arm on the way to the floor. Droplets of blood were landing on his faceplate and sliding down, leaving reddish trails that reminded him of bars on a prison cell.

  “Sort ‘em out, Hawk.”

  “Don’t call him that,” Flak said. “He’s Papa-Six and I’m Papa-Five. Jack is Papa-Seven.”

  He didn’t care what any of them were called. Standing under a rain of blood from the woman he’d promised to rescue bothered him. In between the flight squad’s mindless radio chatter, he could hear her moaning in pain, which was only adding to his growing frustration. With the chaos around him increasing by the minute, he was both close to completing his mission and far from it at the same time.

  Wishing she would wake up, he shouted, “Jessica!”

  Flak continued his rambling chatter, but he wasn’t really listening. “Ginger is Papa-Four, but only because she’s hot.”

  “Papa-Four to Papa-Five, you’re a rude asshole.”

  Although he could have called for radio silence, it was better than listening to Jessica’s low cries as wires and tubes were tugged from deep within her body. He was a man of action and listening to her suffer, unable to do anything to help, was making him feel powerless.

  “Alpha-Six to Bravo-Six, sitrep.”

  Any flight squad trained by Hawk and Flak was bound to be mouthy, but their playful arguing wasn’t helping. At least talking to Judge would save him from having to tune into their idiotic chatter. More blood dripped onto his faceplate, turning Jessica’s naked body a blurry red. Watching her bleed was making him unhappier than he wanted to admit. He’d never met the real Jessica since his death, and he didn’t remember her from before he died, at least not with any clarity. Some of his memories were murky or perhaps they lacked color, he wasn’t sure which, but there was something surreal about them, as if they weren’t really his.

  “Bucking up, Tag,” Judge replied steadily.

  It meant Judge’s battalion were holding up their end of the fight. “Good work.” Adjusting his position so robot Jessica could reach another set of wires on Jessica, he said, “Alpha-Six to Charlie-Six, sitrep.”

  Rok warbled, “Send in the clones.”

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  “What kind of answer is bucking up?” Rok replied defiantly.

  When Rok’s voice cut out on the radio, all he could hear in the background was muffled gunfire. Rok might have been singing, but there was a fierce firefight in progress. Soldiers reacted differently under fire, and some couldn’t contain their fear whereas others thrived. Rok was dedicated to his KLAW, never happier than when shooting the heck out of anything in his way. He couldn’t blame the man, there was something fun about free fire that even he enjoyed.

  “Charlie-Six, what’s your situation?”

  “All but fucked,” Rok replied.

  Taking a step sideways, he watched robot Jessica unthread a wire from Jessica’s cheek, making a dribble of blood splatter onto his faceplate. Secretly welcoming Rok’s devil may care attitude, he said sharply, “I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you.”

  “Easy, boss man, it’s all good here. Your precious clone factory is safe, but I’ve lost around three hundred troopers.”

  “Has Joker casevac’d them?”

  “Yeah. We’ve loaded another six hundred troopers into the city.”

  “Why so many?”

  “How do you think we’re protecting the clone factory?”

  He didn’t miss the edge of resentment in Rok’s tone. He was using the Dead Force like cannon fodder, making them stand in front of the tubes of unborn clones like a wall of armor. They didn’t have enough guns to stop the robot gunners, so they were no doubt being cut down like sitting ducks. As combat tactics went, it wasn’t anything he’d been taught to do, and it sucked. They were trained to protect one another in combat and he could understand why Rok was angry with him.

  “Good work.”

  “Fuck off, Tag.”

  One of Jessica’s arms fell free so that her fingers dangled just above his head. Unlike the robot’s hands, Jessica’s were creased with blue veins showing through her pale skin. Her nails were oval-shaped as if someone had taken the time to file and smooth them. The fingers were stretching and then curling, seeming to enjoy their new found freedom.

  “Jessica!”

  She was still hanging from the ceiling, but her ches
t was rising and falling more rapidly than it had been before. Her other arm dropped, so that both swung gently above his head.

  “Papa-Six to Alpha-Six, we have contact.”

  Hawk was probably taking fire from the beacons and, watching Jessica’s hands forming fists, he said, “Alpha-Six to Papa-Six, sitrep.”

  “We can’t win this.”

  Hawk only had thirty-eight beacons under his command, which would be no match for the thousands orbiting Earth. Even if his pilots had been well trained, it wouldn’t take much to overwhelm them, but if the cities fell then he would have no production lines, clones or Jessica. Hawk’s flight squad would have to slug it out, even if it they were guaranteed to lose.

  “Engage the enemy. Priority to Alpha, Bravo and Charlie cities. Yankee-Six, teleport them before they lose their beacons.”

  “Don’t want much, do ya Tag?” Joker replied.

  Grabbing the pilot before their beacon exploded under enemy fire was a tall order, and he already knew Joker wouldn’t catch all of them. Although the Dead Force could be repaired, even a pod had its limits. A pilot blown into a million pieces couldn’t be teleported, much less put inside a pod and restored.

  Unlike Joker, Hawk hadn’t questioned his order and was already talking to his fleet. “Papa-Six to flight squad, deliver some precision guided whoop-ass.”

  “Papa-Seven to Papa-Six, firing at the bogey on your tail.”

  “Papa-Six to Papa-Seven. Thanks, Jack.”

  “You’re welcome, honey,” Jack replied cheekily.

  “Papa-Four to flight squad, draw fire away from Alpha, Bravo and Charlie.”

  “Papa-Six to Papa-Four, I like the way you think.”

  No longer held in position by wires and tubes, Jessica’s head fell forward so that her eyes were staring into his. He was wearing a helmet with a darkened faceplate trickling with blood, so he was sure she couldn’t see him, but her eyes continued to drill into his. Although he vaguely remembered meeting her while he’d still been alive, he was dressed in full standard issue armor, so she couldn’t possibly know who he was. There was something spooky about her intense stare, almost as if she could see his thoughts.