Ranger

by William Stacey

  Martinez snorted. "You give the word, Major. I'll get them ready."

  Huck turned to McKnight. "We can roll out the gate with gunfighters within three hours, but the combat support will be an issue, especially if we're not coming back any time soon. We'll have to carry everything we'll need."

  "We have combat support on the base," McKnight said.

  "Yes, sir, but we've always planned to use gateways back here when we needed them, especially for emergency medical services. The medics are good, but they rely upon the remote patient monitoring gear, and that won't be possible. We need Starlight."

  McKnight shook his head. "Cassie needs to stay and keep the kids alive."

  Dr. Ireland stepped forward. "I'll go. I did my residency in the Vancouver ER. Most nights, we dealt with gunshot and knife wounds. And I'm the other end of your remote system, anyhow."

  McKnight hesitated only a moment before nodding. "You're in, Doctor." He turned to Huck. "Major, I authorize you to press anyone on this base into immediate service. You need 'em, you take 'em."

  "Oscar," said Helena with a tone that implied she thought he had gone too far. "The other council members will crucify you."

  McKnight sighed. "I'm done, anyhow, when they have their vote. For now, I'm still the first councilor, and I have the authority."

  "Do you?" Helena asked in disbelief.

  "Well… I'm doing it, anyhow."

  Leela stepped forward. "I'm coming too. With Snow White out of action, you're short a mag-sens."

  Alex's heart leaped into his throat. He wanted to say no but instead asked, "You sure?"

  "I'm sure."

  Ylra said, "Me too."

  McKnight hesitated. "Ylra… we'll need you to help us rebuild—"

  Ylra scowled at him. "If something happened to Kargin, then you're going to need another dwarf to speak on your behalf. Trust me. My people won't even let you in the door of Deep Terlingas—and that's if you even found the door. You need me. My people are stubborn beyond belief."

  McKnight sighed but agreed.

  "We still don't know what happened to the contact team," Huck said. "We could walk into another ambush."

  "We know enough," Alex said. "The LZ is compromised, so we go in hot and secure the perimeter. If your people do half as well as they did yesterday, we'll be fine. Once we secure a beachhead, we find Lee and the others."

  "Priority is Deep Terlingas," insisted McKnight.

  "Oscar…"

  McKnight glared at Alex. "An alliance with the dwarves is our only hope." He turned to Huck. "It's your troops, Major Armstrong, your command. Alex and Leela will be your ranger support, but you're in charge. If you can, rescue our people, but if it's too risky, make the hard call. Get to Deep Terlingas. Nothing else is mission critical. Got it?"

  "I got it, sir." She glanced at Alex, her expression betraying her confliction. "I don't even know how we can find the contact team."

  "I do," said Ylra. "If the dark elves took Snow White's rig, then we can use the tandem setting on Long Bow's rig to link with it. It should show us where she is. We can even use her rig to open a gateway to her location, or at least to her rig."

  "We have to try," said Alex.

  "Major Armstrong will make that call," said McKnight.

  "Sir," said Huck, "wait. What about after? Even if we get to Deep Terlingas and the dwarves agree to help us, what then? With the Jump Tube destroyed, we'll be stranded."

  "Bring another keying device," said McKnight. "Activate it in one year. Give us a year to rebuild the Jump Tube. Once we get a signal, we'll open another gateway."

  "If you're not in a prison cell for treason," said Helena. "And a year is pushing it, Oscar. We took three years to rebuild this one—even with Kargin's help."

  "A year," McKnight repeated. "You do your part, Major, we'll do ours."

  "Yes, sir," Huck said.

  First Sergeant Martinez moved to stand just behind Huck, looking like a stone-faced gargoyle.

  "Okay," said McKnight. "You've got two days of work to get done in hours." He looked at his watch. "It's now 1:17 p.m. At 6:00 p.m. tonight, I want you and your troops on the parade square, ready to go. By 6:02, I want boots on the ground on Faerum. This is our absolute last chance."

  Huck and her first sergeant bolted away, practically running.

  "I have to prep as well," said Dr. Ireland, spinning away.

  "Leela and I will need weapons and gear," Alex said.

  "Take them to the Strike Force armory," McKnight told Ylra. "Tell the quartermaster to give them anything they want."

  "Come on, you two," Ylra said as she grabbed each of them by an arm and dragged them along with her, like a parent pulling toddlers. "I get to show you my world. Should be fun."

  18

  Alex watched as Ylra used McKnight's name to commandeer an MP escort, an HMM-V. The MPs hit the siren and the lights as they rushed Alex, Leela, and Ylra to the complex housing the 1st NAC Strike Force, the Black Knights. Huck and First Sergeant Martinez had already lit a fire under their people, because soldiers dashed about, carrying supplies out to the parade square. The two MPs escorted them through the security entrance, rushing them down the corridor to the unit's armory, a large warehouse filled with shelves of combat equipment and weapons.

  The armory was a hive of frenetic activity. Groups of augmentees—medical, intelligence, and engineering specialists shanghaied into service—stood next to growing piles of gear, their faces registering the shocked disbelief of people who had shown up for work only to discover they were going to war on an alien planet.

  It was a lot to take on board, and Alex felt pity for them. Most would never get the chance to say farewell to loved ones. Duty is a mountain, and some days, you have to climb it.

  Strike Force soldiers scurried about, stripping the place clean and taking whatever they needed despite the obvious discomfort of the supply technicians tasked with accounting for everything. But this was the end of the world. Or it would be if they failed.

  One of the MPs dragged over a heavyset sergeant, the quartermaster, or QM. The QM's hair was disheveled, his complexion pale, his face sweaty. "Ylra, what do you need?"

  Ylra gestured to Alex and Leela. "Gear 'em up, Lou. They're going in with the force. So am I. We're gonna need everything."

  Lou chewed his lip as he considered Alex and Leela before nodding. "Okay, but none of the suits are in your size."

  "I'll manage. Give me what you can—and I want something that makes big holes, one of Kargin's cut-down Light Fifties. Grab the experimental incendiary, explosive, and armor-piercing ammo."

  Alex stared at her in shock. If she was referring to an M82 Barrett anti-material rifle, then the beast weighed over thirty pounds and, at almost five feet, was taller than she was by a foot. The QM didn't seem vexed. He darted away, grabbing one of his corporals to help him. Alex watched Ylra, remembering how strong Kargin was and how, once, he had even wrestled with a manticore the size of a lion. If Ylra is even half as strong...

  The corporal returned first, lugging one of the oversized M82 Barrett rifles and two of the futuristic bullpup assault rifles the Strike Force carried. The Barrett, equipped with a telescopic sight, ten-round box magazine, and forestock-mounted bipod assembly, was officially designated as an SASR—a Special Applications Scoped Rifle—but it was more commonly called a Light Fifty for the .50-caliber Browning machine gun round it fired, a bullet twice the size of a fountain pen. A good shooter could put that round right through a vehicle's engine block or turn a person into red mist. Ylra took the rifle, removed the huge magazine, and worked its action to verify it was unloaded. Alex noted the rifle's stock was much shorter than it should have been, clearly refitted for someone with shorter arms, like a dwarf. The corporal handed Alex and Leela the assault rifles then darted away again, mumbling about pistols.

  Alex stared at the bullpup rifle in his hands before turning to one of the MPs. "I don't even know how to do a safety check on this thing."
r />   "Here," the MP said, taking the weapon from Alex. "We call them Tac rifles. They're an updated version of an FN FAS 2000, heavily modified by DARPA to work in tandem with the Future Soldier enhanced helmets for greater accuracy and to take the fifty-round block of caseless 4.73 x 33mm ammunition. The 4x scope is only if you have technical issues with your visor aiming system."

  Visor aiming system?

  "This one comes with a 40mm under-barrel grenade launcher. You can even fix the bayonet to the end of the barrel, but if you're fixing bayonets in this day and age, then you're really in the shit."

  He worked the action, showing Alex and Leela the empty firing chamber, then went over the weapon's basic operation and how to load the caseless ammunition blocks behind the pistol grip. The blocks, with a dull flat plastic appearance, formed the ammo load and held fifty rounds each. Alex had never used caseless ammunition, but he was familiar with the concept. Each round was formed from three components: the solid plastic-explosive propellant, the primer, and the bullet. When fired, the propellant and primer disintegrated in a flash, producing gases that propelled the bullet at supersonic speeds. Each ammo block weighed roughly the same as a standard thirty-round assault-rifle magazine but, because there were no brass casings, carried almost twice as many projectiles. When the weapon was empty, the magazine was gone, creating room for another block of fifty-round ammo.

  Alex took the weapon back and went through the instructions, but his unease grew. "I don't like going into battle with a weapon I don't know. I've never even zeroed it. Maybe we should find our own weapons."

  "Not sure there's time," said Leela.

  Ylra snorted. "Can't say as I blame you. Not gonna catch me using something that fires a piddling little round like that, not on my world."

  "They're crazy accurate with the helmets, Major," the MP said. "Even un-zeroed, you should be able to hit a dime at a hundred meters. The round may be smaller than you're used to, but it does the job—and if it doesn't, then another ten will."

  Alex flipped the weapon upside down. The grenade launcher looked the same as those with which he was familiar. The corporal brought three Sig-Sauer P229 pistols in shoulder holsters. These weapons he knew, having spent years carrying one as a Tier-1 operator in Joint Task Force-2 and Task Force Devil.

  "Be right back with ammo," the young man said breathlessly.

  The QM returned first, pushing a trolley stuffed with gear. "Got three helmets, a medium for the sir, small for the ladies. You're gonna need to adjust the internal fitting bands yourself, but they should be fully charged. The solar paneling will keep 'em that way."

  Alex took one helmet, finding it surprisingly light. "Solar powered?"

  "You'll understand in a minute." He handed Leela and Ylra a helmet then riffled through the contents of the trolley and came up with three sets of MBITR radios.

  "These look smaller than the ones I'm used to," Alex said.

  "Cranial vibration radio sets," the QM answered. He held up a tight mesh hood, like a hairnet. "Goes over your head. No need for a microphone because it measures bone vibration when you speak… or whisper if you're trying to be quiet."

  "Good to know," said Alex as he held the hood up to his face and pulled it taut. He saw no wiring.

  Next, the QM pulled out three load-bearing vests crammed with gear, empty containers for the fifty-round Tac rifle blocks of ammo, a bayonet, a canteen, a first-aid kit, and a weapons-cleaning kit. Alex set his vest on the floor of the armory and rested his rifle atop it. The QM then handed them fully loaded rucksacks filled with other supplies—jungle boots, socks, tennis shoes, T-shirts, underwear, mosquito netting, a waterproof bivy bag to go over the three-part sleeping bag, an air mattress, and a blanket. There were also several plastic containers of water and a handful of DVD-sized MREs—foil-wrapped Meals Ready to Eat. Alex considered the food. That'll last us two to three days of high exertion, no more. Will the dwarves feed us?

  The corporal returned with a second trolley, upon which sat a large pile of fifty-round caseless ammo blocks, 9mm pistol magazines, several cloth bandoliers of hand grenades, and two shoebox-sized ammunition canisters, one with 40mm grenades for the under-barrel grenade launcher and the other holding .50-caliber Browning machine gun magazines. Alex, Leela, and Ylra stuffed their load-bearing vests and rucksacks with ammunition.

  Leela hefted her rucksack, grimacing at its weight. "Can we carry this?"

  "Have to," Alex answered. "There's no more where we're going."

  "It'll get lighter as you kill stuff," said Ylra with a grin.

  Alex heard a familiar voice and glanced across the armory to see another pair of supply technicians helping Dr. Ireland with her gear. She was barefoot and adjusting the collar of a skintight spandex-like dark-green unitard, but this one was high-tech, with sensors woven into its elastic material. Her frightened eyes locked onto Alex's, and his heart went out to her—she was way out of her element. He lifted a hand in greeting and smiled. Her half smile was more of a grimace.

  "Your turn, sir," the QM said, holding up another of the spandex unitards.

  Alex noted Leela was holding her own suit and staring at it suspiciously.

  "The other augmentees are in all the change rooms, but we'll look the other way. You're gonna need to strip to your underwear. Any other clothing will interfere with the sensors."

  "What sensors? What am I holding?" Leela asked.

  "Warrior physiological status monitoring system," the QM answered. "It's a jumpsuit that lies against your skin and monitors your critical medical indicators—heart rate, blood pressure, and hydration."

  "We don't need that shit," said Alex.

  "Yes, you do, sir. It works in tandem with the MR body armor to keep you alive."

  "Armor?" Alex stared at the trolley and saw nothing but two more dark-green jumpsuits, albeit much heavier and thicker than the unitards, with built-in elbow and knee protection. Pebbling dotted the entire surface of the jumpsuits like lizard skin.

  The QM lifted one jumpsuit, holding it up for Alex to examine. "This is your body armor."

  As he held it up, Alex saw the dark-green color shift to match the red-tan paint of the armory walls. "It's like a chameleon's skin," he said in wonder. "I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me in British Columbia."

  "Way more than that." The man twisted the fabric of the collar, exposing the interior of the thick fabric. "This is MR liquid body armor."

  Alex squeezed the material and felt a membrane-thin skin of fluid between his thumb and fingers. "What the hell?"

  "Magnetorheological fluid. It remains in a liquid state until the suit's sensors detect a threat—ballistic, edged, or blunt trauma. In a nanosecond, the suit applies an electrical pulse that transitions the inner fluid to a rigid state."

  "You're kidding me!" Alex said. "I thought Kargin was playing with me."

  "Also fire-resistant," said the QM. "Just in case you run into any dragons."

  Ylra snorted derisively. "Fire-resistant, my dainty ass. Not even gonna slow dragon-breath."

  "We're running out of time," said Leela, then she kicked off her boots, unbuttoned her jeans, and slipped them down around her shapely legs.

  Ylra, the QM, and the two MPs turned away, and Alex stripped as well.

  Once in their underwear, Alex and Leela put on the skintight bodysuits and found that they stretched to fit perfectly and were far lighter than he imagined, with wiring and sensors woven into the fabric. He pulled on the thick MR jumpsuit and thought it akin to a fighter pilot's flight suit. Alex pulled his socks and boots on and jumped in place, finding everything fit. He then slipped the mesh hoodie over his head for the radio, feeling a little like a spaceman. The QM examined their suits, making sure they had secured their straps properly. Then they shrugged on their heavy load-bearing vests and made sure the MBITR sets worked with the mesh bone-conducting hoodie. The corporal brought one last load of gear, tactical slings for the assault rifles, extra socks, and underwear. They cl
ipped the slings onto their rifles then stuffed the underwear and socks into their rucksacks.

  While Alex was adjusting his sling so that the rifle hung near his right thigh, the QM handed him his helmet. "Try it on so we can pair it with the radios and rifles."

  Ylra was already strapping on her helmet. Alex took his. It was too light to be Kevlar, he noted, and the visor was curved and opaque, but when he put the helmet on, he found his vision perfectly clear. The lenses must be colored ballistic glasses, filtering out blue light to let the wearer see with more clarity and greater depth perception.

  The QM took Alex's right hand and brought it to the side of the helmet, near the right ear. "Do you feel the indentations, the slight depressions there, sir?"

  "I do," he answered. "Buttons?"

  "Protected by a rubberized covering. Press the largest one. Hold it for at least three seconds."

  Alex did as he was told, and seconds later, his visor lit up with a heads-up display, showing his heart rate, blood pressure, and local temperature. There were other readings, but he did not understand what they meant.

  "Okay, now touch the buttons over your right ear again."

  Alex ran his fingers over the protrusions.

  "The button next to the power button—press and hold it."

  Alex did, and his visor slid up into a cavity in the helmet, leaving his face exposed.

  "Press it again, and it goes back down."

  Alex pressed the button once more, and the visor snapped into place. A moment later, the heads-up display reenergized. Then he realized he wasn't just seeing better but was also hearing with far more clarity. "It enhances hearing? How is that possible?"

  "The technology allows three-hundred-sixty-degree situational awareness and voice amplification, so you can hear everything you need to—an order or where that sniper round came from—but it cancels out noise at a certain decibel to protect your hearing, like gunshots and explosions. You can forget ever needing ear defenders again."

  "That's incredible."

  "Does way more than that. Depending on setting, time of day, or preference, the visor functions as a night-vision device, a thermal imager, or a telescopic sight. You're now part of a wide-area-network with the other members of the Strike Force. HQ section will monitor your vitals as well as what you're seeing. You can customize it to your preference, but the standard setting has everything you'll ever need—maps, real-time video feeds from satellites or UAVs… visual indicators of known hostiles."