“Clear, sir.”
Except, Husher was only clear about one thing. Keyes is hiding something from me.
Chapter 2
Thessaly
Whenever Husher went on a mission in the Bastion Sector, the same thought always ran through his mind: So much bloodshed over one mineral…
This time was no different, as he entered the shuttle and looked for an empty seat. To be fair, Ocharium wasn’t just any mineral. Basically everything contained it, or at least everything that went into space. There was exactly enough Ocharium in any given object so that it interacted with a Majorana-infused floor as though in a one-G environment.
After Husher strapped himself into a crash seat, he couldn’t help eyeing the coal-black reentry suits encased in plastic at the back of the shuttle. They were meant to enable the wearer to survive a fall from space in the event of a critical shuttle malfunction, but they’d only ever been used by one person, resulting in his death.
A marine strapped in across from him apparently felt the same way. “Admiring Fleet’s idea of a safety precaution?”
Husher nodded. These suits looked like the latest version, but he wasn’t convinced they were any better than their predecessors. “We had them in our shuttles too, back on the Firedrake.”
“Firedrake, huh? What was your position there?”
“It was…” My first command. My last command. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
To Husher, the reentry suits symbolized everything wrong with Command. The way they rushed new technologies without properly considering the consequences.
The shuttle shuddered and bucked as it entered Thessaly’s atmosphere. “Engage active sensors,” he heard Caine say near the front of the shuttle. “I want to feed the AI as much intel as possible before it suggests a landing site. Limit its range to within five kilometers of the target. And tell our escort of Condor pilots to keep their eyes peeled, in case the radicals scramble fighters of their own.”
The shuttle’s AI would be a weak one; more a collection of advanced interdependent algorithms than a self-aware intelligence. Strong AI was outlawed, but it hadn’t always been that way. Humanity had been on its way to developing strong AI when they’d made first contact with an alien species.
The first Winger Roostship entered Earth orbit and sent down emissaries to tell humanity what had happened when Wingers had almost developed a strong AI—the near destruction of all life in the galaxy. Ever since, galactic law had prohibited their creation.
It turned out it was impossible to control a superintelligence, no matter how meticulous the programming. Go figure.
Humanity had come far, since then. In return for their cooperation in the matter of the AI, the Wingers had offered to help them ascend to the stars, to enter the galactic community. How mighty the Wingers had seemed to Husher’s ancestors.
How things have changed.
Before they departed the shuttle, Sergeant Caine directed Husher toward the small weapons locker near the exit. “Take your pick, and grab an ammo belt. The guns fire Darkstream-issue bullets, Ocharium-enriched, but Captain Keyes refuses to take their smart guns.”
“Dumb guns. Gotcha.” Husher lifted an assault rifle from its rack and checked the action.
“I assume you know how to use one of those?”
“I mean, I completed Basic.”
“Uh huh. I want you in the center squad. Just keep your ego in check and don’t do anything stupid, all right?”
“How do you divide up your platoon?”
“Listen and learn.” Caine started doling out orders, her small frame exuding confidence and authority. “Our mission is to reach the city center and take out the radicals’ base of operations. Davies, your squad’s on point, and I want more responsiveness than I got out of you last time. Trust your gut, and don’t hesitate to keep me informed of potential threats, even if they seem unlikely. I’d much rather get some bogus information with my intel than walk into danger I know nothing about.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Caine’s dark brown ponytail whipped about as she picked out others in the crowd. “Ryerson, bring up our rear. Those Ardent-worshipers know this terrain way better than we do, and they’d like nothing more than to stick it to our ass. Wahlburg, I’m sending your squad roaming. Radio in about anything you stumble on that might interest me.”
Wahlburg was grinning. “So, if I find an Ardent-worshiper who’s your type…”
“Can it, Wahlburg. Watching you try to hit on Davies is more than enough comedy, for my taste.”
The marine platoon produced a chorus of Os, and then Caine raised her arm. “Move out!”
Four squads poured out of the shuttle and deployed according to Caine’s orders, fanning out through the blistering city. Husher stuck close to Caine, feeling far removed from any possibility of actual combat. So much for getting experience…
They huddled near the corner of a building while one of their squad peered up and down the street for signs of danger. Sweat had already begun to build up under Husher’s helmet and slide down his face.
“How am I supposed to curve my shots with this old-fashioned load-out?” Husher whispered to Caine.
“You don’t. The Ocharium repulses the axions in the air behind the bullet, speeds it up, but nothing else.”
“Wow. Feels almost like I’m back in the twenty-first century.”
“It’s a compromise between the old man and Command. He takes their bullets but not their smart guns.”
“Why not, though?”
“Because smart guns can be turned off.”
“Only by Command. Right?”
“Are you always this chatty on a mission? Come on.” Their scout had given the all-clear, and they jogged around the building, holding their weapons at the ready.
Gunfire sounded from up ahead, and Caine’s hand leapt to her helmet. “Davies! Sitrep!”
“They hit hard and quick, ma’am,” Davies answered over a platoon-wide channel. “We’re pinned down, here.”
“How many?”
“My squad’s outnumbered, two-to-one at least.”
“Sit tight. We’re moving up from the south-east to support. Wahlburg, set up a flank from the west. Maintain your rear guard, Ryerson.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Strange,” Caine said as her hand dropped once more to her weapon. “I expected them to engage us from their base. It’s like we flushed them out just by arriving.”
Husher considered for a moment. “I think it’s a fluke that they’re engaging us at all. I bet they got word of our arrival, but not which direction we’re coming from. They moved to flee the area and happened to run into us.”
“If you’re right, they’ll disengage as soon as they can. But it makes no sense for them to give up their base so quickly. It’s within easy reach of at least four Ocharium mining operations, and we know that’s their favorite type of target.” She shook her head. “Anyway, we don’t have time to debate it. Let’s move!”
Husher had some theories about why the radicals might be disengaging, but he favored breathing over talking as he ran. The squad double-timed through the dusty city, and it took everything he had to keep up with Caine and the others.
The streets themselves were empty, as though the locals had developed a sixth sense for danger and knew better than to remain outside. Living in the Bastion Sector, I’m not surprised, Husher thought.
Davies’s voice blared over the short-range radio. “Sergeant, the radicals have disengaged. There was a break in the firing, and it took me a minute to figure out what happened. Looks like they’re headed your way.”
“How soon?” Caine barked.
But Husher didn’t need Davies’s reply to know how soon. The glint of a muzzle from a nearby alley told him everything. He trained his rifle on the radical kneeling in the shadows, just as the man started to fire.
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Infliction (Mech Wars Book 4) Page 18
