by Jay Allan
What fools we were, he thought, feeling the usual surge of rage deep inside. Taylor was the heart and soul of the AOL, and his commitment to destroying those responsible for the war was like steel. But Daniels was the one man in the army whose anger burned even hotter. If Taylor’s determination ever failed, if the suffering and cost of the crusade ever became more than he could bear, Daniels knew it would fall to him to push his friend forward, to do whatever it took to win the final victory. Hank Daniels would never forget what UNGov had done, and he would let nothing interfere with his vengeance. Humanity had allowed itself to be fooled, to let tyrants exploit its fears to gain its meek surrender. And now it would have to pay whatever price the universe demanded, wash away the sins of its foolishness with blood.
“We’ll have the airship ready in two hours, sir.” Yantz was pulling structural supports out of one of the crates as he spoke, lining them up in piles organized by size.
“Two hours?” Daniels knew Yantz was good, but two hours was fast, even for the gifted engineer.
“Yes, sir,” Yantz snapped back. “We’ve assembled and disassembled this thing a dozen times over the last year. Sooner or later we had to get good at it.”
“Two hours is good, alright, Captain. “You manage that, and I’ll personally ask General Taylor to give you a commendation.”
“Thank you, sir!”
Daniels smiled at the energy in Yantz’ voice. Jake Taylor was his friend, more than a brother. But he was always amazed at the near-worship so many of the soldiers in the army felt for their commander. He’d have never imagined his old comrade, Corporal Taylor could inspire men this way. Taylor had always been a good man, a friend you wanted at your back in a tight spot. But he’d become…something else. And Daniels knew it was that power inside his old comrade that gave them all hope.
“Very well, Captain. If you’re going to be done in two hours, I better think about what I want to say to the officers of Force Samar.”
* * *
“General Simmons, we have a report from the outer pickets in blue sector.” There was a strange tone to the communications officer’s voice, not shock quite, but profound surprise at least. “They report a party requesting a…parlay.”
“A parlay?” Simmons turned abruptly, his voice harsh and raw. “The Machines want to talk? After twelve years of bloody war they want to talk?” His words were heavy with anger, but also surprise. He’d come to Samar with the first expeditionary force, and as long as there had been a Force Samar in the field, Tyrell Simmons had been a part of it, and for the last six years, its commander. And in all that time he’d never received a communication of any sort from the enemy.
“No, sir, not the Machines…they’re humans, sir. They say they are from the Army of Liberation, whatever that is, and they request an immediate meeting with you.”
“Humans? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know, sir, but Captain Tillis seems quite certain. They are human, he reports, though there is something…different…about their leader.”
“Different?” Simmons’ gut tightened. Could it be a trick? Some kind of ploy? A suicide force sent to destroy army headquarters? “Different how?” he snapped back.
“For one thing, Captain Tillis says his eyes are silver…like metal.”
Simmons stared back at the comm officer. Silver eyes? Some kind of construct? Perhaps it is a trick. But…
“Tell, Captain Tillis he is to keep them at his checkpoint. I will meet with them there as soon as possible.”
“Yes, General.” A few seconds later: “Captain Tillis acknowledges, sir. He will detain the visitors and await further instructions.” Another pause. “Are you sure you should go, sir? You are the army commander, and your death would be a major victory for the enemy. Perhaps Major…”
“No.” Simmons’ voice was hard, decisive. “I will go. Perhaps it is unwise, but if I fall victim to an enemy ruse, so be it. The army will remain intact, and Colonel Posca will take command. Besides, if this is not an enemy trick, if these are really human beings…I must know who they are and why they have come.”
“Yes, sir.” The officer sounded less than convinced. But arguing with generals wasn’t in his job description.
“Have my transport ready in five minutes, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.” The officer punched a few keys and turned back to acknowledge. But Simmons was already out the door.
* * *
“I know this is difficult to accept, General, but I must ask you to review all the evidence again. In all your time on Samar, have any of your people ever returned home? Gone back through the Portal to Earth? Anyone besides the UNGov staffers?” Hank Daniels sat at the makeshift table, just outside the firebase where his airship had landed. The sun was searing hot, but there was no shade save for a small canopy a group of soldiers had hastily erected. The heat was still getting to him, but not as badly as it had at first. There was still a soldier of Erastus inside him, and it was clawing its way out, shaking a shadowy fist at Samar’s massive sun as if to shout, “Is that all you’ve got?”
Simmons looked across the table, trying not to stare at Daniels’ eyes. “All a lie? Everything? But we fought the Machines for twelve years. They killed thousands of my men.”
“Because we invaded their worlds, we attacked them on sight. You said you came to Samar in the first wave, General. Did the Tegeri or the Machines attack you at the Portal? Did they wipe out your lead elements before you could gain a foothold? Or did they only start fighting when you attacked them?”
Simmons had a blank expression on his face, a look of uncertainty and confusion. Daniels knew his new acquaintance was thinking back, his mind peeling the pages to those fateful first days when he’d arrived on Samar. And he knew whatever recollection remained to the general would support what he had said. Daniels hadn’t been there in the first days of the Erastus campaign, but T’arza had told him the Machines had never been the first to fire, not on any contested Portal world. And he had come to believe the Tegeri representative, and even to trust him.
“But the slaughters…they attacked the first colonies. They killed all those people. I saw the vids, we all did.” Simmons’ normally gruff voice was soft, uncertain.
“Those videos were doctored, General. They were fakes. Intended to work us up to fight, to get us to accept our postings and to feel like we were going off to defend Earth from a pack of alien monsters.” Daniels reached into his pocket and pulled out a data chip, setting it down on the table. “Here is the real footage, but I have to warn you…you may find it upsetting.”
Simmons looked up at one of the aides standing next to the table and gestured. The officer saluted and ran off, returning a moment later with a large tablet. He set the device on the table in front of the general.
Simmons picked up the chip and slipped it into the tablet. The screen lit up with a view of a colonial settlement, a series of semi-portable shelters lined up in a rectangular grid, with the old American flag flapping the in the breeze in a small center square. It was a peaceful image, but that changed in a few seconds. Explosions lit up the dusk sky, and shadowy figures moved forward, coming at the village from beyond a low ridge. The attackers held assault rifles, and as they cleared the ridge, they opened fire. The colonists were rushing out of their homes and into the makeshift streets of the settlement…right into the assault weapon fire.
The images were similar to the ones Simmons and Daniels had seen in training camp…but then they focused on the attackers as they moved steadily, relentlessly forward. They weren’t Machines, as they had been in the videos Simmons had seen before. Nor were they Tegeri. They were men, UN special forces, and they maintained their fire as they closed, killing everyone in sight. Simmons stared at the screen, watching in horror as the soldiers chased the few survivors, running them down, killing them all. Men, women, children…it didn’t matter. By the time the shooting stopped, every colonist was dead.
Simmons looked up from
the screen, but he didn’t say anything, not for a long while. Finally, he said, “How do I know these are real? Perhaps they are the ones that have been modified.”
“The truth is, you don’t know. You will have to decide for yourself.” Daniels’ voice was calm, rational. He was a zealot, a man obsessed with defeating UNGov, but there was no trace of that as he sat at the table and spoke to the commander of Force Samar. He was reason itself. “You will have to consider everything, General. You will find the Machines are gone, within another day, two at most, the last of them will have transited offworld.”
Daniels saw the confusion in Simmons’ face, the frustration as he tried to make sense of the situation. “Whatever you decide to do, the war on Samar is over. The Machines will not come back. The left because we came here, because we asked them to. They are not your enemy. The Tegeri are not your enemy. They fought you for so long only because they were attacked, because they knew if human forces reached the Tegeri homeworld they would invade.
“As I said, the war here is over…but none of you will be allowed to return to Earth. UNGov expected your struggle to continue for another decade at least. If things had gone on according to their plan, your replacements would have been steadily reduced, leaving as few soldiers in the field as possible when the planet was finally conquered. But we have upset their planning. You still have a large force deployed, one far beyond any reasonable garrison. Yet, still, you will remain here, all of you, for as long as you live. Go ahead…report the situation. Request permission for your people to begin to return to Earth. See what response you receive.”
Daniels knew the whole truth, that UNGov never allowed its soldiers to return from the Portal worlds where they fought. The last thing the politicians wanted was a population of veteran troops running around on Earth, a constant threat to their authority. And that was especially true now that the AOL was rampaging across the Portal worlds constituting the worst threat to UN control since the takeover forty years before. Daniels knew UNGov would never allow 15,000 veterans to come back from Samar…and their refusal would make his case. He felt an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, a coldness. What would UNGov do with the planetary armies now that the Tegeri were pulling back from all the contested worlds? According to T’arza, there were fifty-three such planets, and the Tegeri estimate of total deployed human strength was 680,000.
That is a lot of men, deceived or forced outright to abandon their lives, to leave Earth forever for a life of unending war…
What will they do? Will they call them back now, hoping they will fight us? Or will they leave them where they are, strand them…or worse?
“I already reported that the Machines are withdrawing. I was told to prepare to survey the formerly-Machine held areas of the planet, and to locate as many Portals as possible. And to ready my forces to conduct exploratory missions through any such transit points we locate.” Simmons hesitated. “I requested authorization to send my wounded back to Earth at least…but permission was denied.” Another pause. “I was told UNGov wanted to maintain full strength on Samar, that the withdrawal was likely a ruse, that they expected the Machines to return.”
“And how would they know that?” Daniels had managed to keep his words civil and calm, but now his anger toward UNGov was showing itself. “How would they have any idea what the Tegeri were planning?” He looked down at the table for a moment and then back up at Simmons. “There is something else I must tell you, something my experience on Erastus, and the other worlds we’ve visited has taught me. You have spies in your army, General. Even if you do not have any operating in the open, such as an Inquisitor team, you can be certain some of your officers and men are reporting to Geneva. Indeed, any of your personnel who have had return privileges to Earth must be suspect. And others too. It is unlikely you will be able to identify them all, no matter what you do.”
“I do not doubt what you say, Colonel, but does that not make your mission here fraught with danger? Would it not be the safer course for me to have you arrested and turn you over to UNGov officials?”
“Indeed, General, that would be the safer alternative, assuming they don’t simply decide to do away with you to contain the contamination. If that is the course you choose, I would suggest you waste no time. The longer we parlay, the more suspect you will become.”
“Why would you tell me all of this? Why would you come here and risk what I may choose to do?”
“As to why I am here, the simple answer is because General Taylor ordered me to come. We seek to reach as many of our compatriots, human soldiers consigned to fight UNGov’s dirty war. I am here because I could reach Samar in the time I had available, and because we will not let our brothers continue to fight and die in bondage when we have the ability to bring them the truth.”
Daniels paused and looked across the table. “And, as for the risk…I have been at war my entire adult life, General, and I have never let the danger interfere with my actions. I have come asking a great deal of you, and if I am to ask so much of your people, it is only reasonable that I prove my intentions, that I put myself at risk in coming here. If you choose to ignore all I have said and shown you then so be it.” He sat silently for a few second then added, “Though I warn you to position as many of your soldiers as possible before you make a move. I cannot express strongly enough how formidable my enhancements make me in combat.” There was no anger in Daniels’ voice, no animosity. Yet his words dripped with unintentional menace.
“So,” Simmons said, hesitating before continuing. “…suppose I am persuaded. What would you have me do?”
“First, you must secure the Portal…with men you absolutely trust. You must allow nothing to leave Samar. Not even the crews ferrying in supplies. You must detain everyone who transits in, and you must keep all but your chosen guards from the Portal. You are three transits from Earth, and that should slow UNGov’s response time.”
Simmons nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Go on.”
“You must redouble security on all vital installations…supplies, communications, that kind of thing. And also yourself and your top officers, at least the ones you know you can trust. You may have UN operatives in your ranks who will attempt to assassinate you if they are unable to report back to Geneva.”
“Assassination? Is that really a risk?”
“It is. We learned that the hard way, on Bellemonte. General Cho was murdered in his sleep by one of his own officers.” Daniels face turned somber. “It was a tremendous recruiting tool for us—practically the entire army joined us, and the killer…didn’t escape.” He leaned forward, staring at Simmons. “But recruiting tool or not, it is not something I care to repeat. The image of General Cho lying on his cot covered in his own blood is still with me. I have no desire to add another such nightmare to the list of those that already plague my sleep.”
Simmons leaned back and sighed, his face twisted in a confused frown. Daniels knew what he was thinking, and he understood. It wasn’t easy to imagine one of your own murdering you in the night. A good commander breathed his every breath for his soldiers, and Daniels’ impression was that Simmons was one of the best. War, deprivation, despair…they were all difficult to endure, waking nightmares that tore away at one’s spirit, but disloyalty was the worst. Simmons had likely long realized he had UNGov informers in his ranks. But Daniels knew Force Samar’s commander was now thinking about that fact in ways he never had…and imagining which of his soldiers were really UNGov assassins, waiting to murder him in the night.
“Very well,” Simmons finally answered. “What else? Would you have me order the army to prepare to march? To move to whatever Portal you came through and go to join your…Army of Liberation?”
“No.” Daniels could see the surprise in Simmons’ face at his response. “We want you to join us, General, all of you. But General Taylor has one requirement. Your soldiers must each decide for themselves. This is not an order going down the chain of command…it is rebellion, a capital offens
e. We will be invading Earth, striking at the heart of the government and fighting any forces it deploys against us. We will be outnumbered, outgunned…in every way, our crusade is a desperate endeavor. We will face enormous danger…and we may be forced to make difficult choices, to cause terrible hardship and loss, even among the innocent on Earth. Every man, even the lowliest private must be a volunteer. He must be there because he shares our commitment, and our outrage at what has been done to us. Not because he was ordered to come.”
“And what of the others?”
“Assuming you choose to join us, General, those who elect to stay will be placed under the command of the highest-ranking officer who remains behind.”
“That is all?”
“We would disable their heavy weapons, and we would take most of the transport vehicles so they couldn’t easily follow us. But otherwise, yes. That is all.” Daniels took a deep breath. “I can hear the question in your mind, General. Yes, there is risk in that, especially as there is a chance the ranking officer that remains behind will be a UNGov operative. We would be safer if we did more, certainly, if we took them with us as prisoners or…worse. But then we would be what we fight against…and we will not do that. I will not. Jake Taylor would not.” He stared at Simmons. “And we hope you would not either.”
“I would not, Colonel. Certainly not. Though it is clearly a risk, especially if you are right about UNGov operatives planted in my army.”
“There are risks we must take, General, dangers we must endure because we are men of honor, because we will not become like those who now rule Earth. Perhaps we will fail because of that, but if we did not act so, even victory would become defeat, for we would become the same thing we had replaced.”
