“Those needs aren’t mutually exclusive,” Carter replied. “If the individuals that make up a society are healthy and productive, then society will be healthy and productive. If individuals within a society are weak and unproductive then the society will be just as weak and unproductive. The individual’s condition always determines the health of society. The individual has to be free to succeed or fail according to his own ability and drive.”
“But what about the people who are less talented or less driven?” LaFerth asked.
“There will people like that, of course,” Carter admitted. “But, society should help them to stand on their own; not prop them up indefinitely; that just destroys their dignity and self respect. You can help the people who are struggling but, if you coddle them, they’ll become weak, dependant, and they’ll eventually stop even trying to improve their situation. Caring for the truly helpless is a moral obligation, but one person not being as capable as others doesn’t necessarily mean that person is helpless. It just means he might not succeed as well as others; not that he can’t succeed at all. You can’t make the weak strong by making the strong weak.”
Carter paused to consider his words. “Governments, in the end, can’t make anyone prosper. It can only create conditions that make prosperity possible. Trying to make everyone equally prosperous, despite differences in individual ability, never works; because, in the end, you have to force the people who are productive to give up what they’ve produced so it can be given to those haven’t produced anything. Sooner or later, people start to resist having what they’ve earned taken from them, and people realize that redistributing wealth that way will make them all equally poor; not equally rich. When that happens, the State loses its legitimacy has to become oppressive in order to maintain its existence.”
Carter looked away for a moment. “The really sad thing is that, even after the WCA is defeated, there will probably be another fight in my country. The wartime state of emergency we’ve been living under will have to be ended. A lot of people won’t want to give up the power they’ve had under that state of emergency. We’ll have to rebuild our government, from the Constitution up, to make sure that our government never gets so powerful that it thinks it can get away with selling the people out again. I’m hoping that can be done without bloodshed but, bloodshed or not, the people are going have to take back their government.”
“It seems strange to me that a career military man like yourself is so dedicated to individualism. The military values conformity to a large extent,” LaFerth said.
“A good military organization is a team. There is a difference between teamwork and slavery,” Carter said. “In a team individuals have to work together. But there are times when the skills or abilities of a single member are the difference between the team’s failure and its success. I’ve seen whole battles decided by the initiative of a single soldier. Those actions were taken on behalf of the team, but a single individual was the key. Soldiers have to be team players but, they also have to capable of decisive individual action. Soldiers are often rewarded for such actions with decorations and promotions; as long as those actions were in the interest the team and the mission. A statist style collective State discourages and punishes individual initiative and demonizes superior ability; even when individual initiative accomplishes goals of the State.”
“So, basically, you are fighting for the freedom of every individual on the planet?” LaFerth asked.
Carter thought for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose I am. The American’s first though,” he added.
LaFerth grinned. “And you don’t see any love and justice in the world?”
Carter shrugged. “Very little, anyway,” he said.
LaFerth’s grin widened. “You’ve taken personal responsibility for the freedom of every person on the planet. You did not have to do that. You could have sided with the WCA, or simply not done anything at all. You could have defended your home at let the rest of the world fend for itself. Instead, though, you chose to risk you life to protect the freedom of those who could not, or would not protect it for themselves,” LaFerth observed. “I would say that shows a great deal of love for your fellow man.”
“You’re an idealist,” Carter said.
“Yes,” LaFerth said. “And so are you. You are just too stubborn to admit it.”
Chapter Eight
The night was moonless the darkness seemed to have a corporeal heaviness to it by the time Carter had ordered his team and Captain Renner’s unit to move out. After consulting with Renner and Mertens, he had decided to take a much longer route to their next hide-site than he had originally intended. This, it was hoped, would allow them to avoid encountering any enemy patrols that were still searching for deserters. Since most of the population had been forced into towns and cities, and no effort was made to maintain any but the most crucial highways leaving forests and overgrowth had overtaken the smaller roads. This had allowed the group remain undetected and avoid further contact with the enemy, but it also meant that it was too dangerous to use the roads that were clear because they were used often and patrolled heavily. This precluded the possibility of capturing a vehicle and using it to reach Brussels.
Carter needed Renner’s unit as guides. He knew, however, that they were slowing his team down. He and his team could move much more quickly through the brush without Renner’s group and still avoid any patrols. It was, in microcosm, why the Paranormal Army Command had brought all allied paranormal troops into a single unified corps instead of doing what some had some military leaders had suggested and dispersing small units of paranormals throughout the conventional armed forces. Normal human troops simply could not physically keep up with paranormals. Carter had to admit to himself that he was slightly frustrated and the slow pace that was necessitated by the limitations of Renner and his people.
Noting some landmarks he had memorized from Renner’s map. Carter realized that they were near their next hide-site. Knowing that long verbal transmissions could be intercepted by the enemy, he pressed the transmit button on his radio twice. This was a predetermined message telling the group to halt. Twenty-five meters ahead of the main group, Sains heard the two electronic clicks in his earpiece and halted; turning to look at Carter; who indicated with hand signals that Sains and the others should regroup in a particularly dense patch of hedges that was off to Sains’ right.
Crouching next to Sains, Carter whispered. “We’re five clicks away from our hide-sight; move ahead and make sure it’s clear. Then see if you can scope out the town without taking too many chances. We’ll wait here. Give me three squawks on the radio if we’re clear and five if it isn’t. If we don’t hear from you in thirty minutes we’ll figure things turned to shit.”
“On it, Boss,” Sains replied. He was out of sight seconds later.
Williams moved up to kneel beside Carter. “Do you believe the hide-site is compromised?” he asked.
“No,” Carter said. “But it had to be scouted out anyway. I’m more worried about the garrison from the town. If we get spotted, we’ll have to take out the whole garrison. There will be no way to hide that.”
“And if that happens?” Williams asked.
“We take out the garrison, make our way to Brussels on our own, find somewhere to hole-up, and proceed with the mission,” Carter replied. “We’ll just hope that the enemy will expect us to try to make a getaway; not head toward their capitol city.”
“Let us hope that that isn’t necessary,” Williams said.
“Amen to that, brother,” Carter agreed.
McNamara came to join them. “There’s no sign of anyone following us, Boss.”
“Good,” Carter said. “How’s the team?”
“Our team is OK,” McNamara said. “But Renner’s men and the underground people look like they’re getting ready to hack up their lungs. I think we moved a little too fast for them. They’re troopers, though; no one complained.”
Carter nodded. “They’
ll have a chance to catch their breath while we wait for Sains to do his sneak-and-peak,” he said.
“That poor guy,” McNamara said. “Being a walking, talking multi-sensor unit means he’s always on point; that has to suck.”
Carter nodded again. “It’s tough, but his super-senses and telepathy make him the perfect scout. No one else can do the job one tenth as well.”
“I’m not criticizing, Boss,” McNamara said, smiling. “I like having him out there being our eyes and ears. But, if I were him, I’d bitch about being on point all of the time.”
“That’s why we call you Grumble; you bitch about everything,” Carter said, with a slight laugh. “Get to the back of the column, make sure no one wanders off during this break. I don’t want any stragglers getting spotted.”
“Will do,” the Canadian replied.
Three electronic chirps came over the radio eighteen minutes later. Carter led the group forward. Minutes later they were met by Sains. “The school is clear, Boss,” He said. “But there are signs of activity there. It looks about three days old, but I saw footprints around some of the old playground equipment there. It looks like the kids from that town still play there.”
“Shit,” Carter said, turning toward Williams. “Get Captain Renner up here.” Williams went immediately to comply.
“There wasn’t much activity in the town but, But damn, is that school close to it; less than half a click,” Sains said.
Williams had returned with Renner. “Brains says that there are signs of activity near the school. Is there another place we can hole-up nearby?” Carter asked.
Renner shook his head. “No; not for another ten clicks,” he said. “How fresh were the signs you found?” he asked Sains.
“About three days,” Sains answered.
“It shouldn’t be a problem, then,” Renner said. “We have some sympathizers in the town. They said that the whole town had their food rations cut a few days ago to punish the kids for sneaking out of town to play at the school. I doubt they’ll risk getting their rations cat again; the WCA feeds them little enough as it is.”
“I don’t know,” Carter said. “Kids can be stubborn as hell, and unpredictable.”
“You might have mentioned that the school still attracted children, Captain,” Williams observed.
Renner’s posture stiffened. “Like I said; the garrison clamped down on the kids. There won’t be a problem.”
“You should have told me, Captain,” Cater admonished. “But we’ll have to take the chance and use the school. The sun will be up soon and we can’t move in daylight without taking a chance of being spotted.”
Carter took a long breath and turned to Williams. “When we get there, I want half of our team on watch at all times. Everyone is to run equipment checks; especially our auto-med systems.”
“Very well,” Williams said.
Carter clapped Sains on the shoulder. “Nice job,” he said. “Get on point again. Lead us in.”
[][][]
The school was in shambles. Its windows were haphazardly boarded over, its brick walls were spider-webbed with cracks, and part of the ceiling had collapsed. The grass around it had grown to nearly a foot in length and the playground equipment was rusty and in disrepair. The smell of moldy wood and stagnate water was evident even before the team stepped over the threshold of the main doors. Signs in several languages warned people not to enter.
Desks and other furniture were scattered about the classrooms and offices. Rodents and insects scurried away; startled by the new arrivals. Bits of debris crunched with each step. Smashed computers and empty bookshelves could be found in every room. The absence of books and destroyed computers was no surprise, Carter thought; the WCA had burned books by the millions and erased entire library databases when they had taken power.
The school might once have been a handsome, useful structure. Now it was a monument to tyranny. The WCA had closed all of the schools and forced children to participate in online education that was now little more political indoctrination. Carter knew that there were schools like the one he was standing in were all over WCA controlled territory. An entire generation of children that had no concept of freedom had already been created. The building seemed to radiate sorrow.
“OK, we’ll set up here,” Carter said, standing in the threshold of a larger classroom. “Brains, I know it’s a bitch, but I need you to stay alert at least until noon. We’re so close to that town, I want some warning if we get any visitors. I’ll let you get some rest before we move out again; I promise.” He looked to the rest of the team. “Get started on the equipment checks.”
Renner approached Carter. “I’ve posted sentries at windows on all fours sides of the building. They all have night vision equipment; so we should have some warning if any one comes near us,” he reported.
“Good,” Carter said. “Rotate your sentries every two hours. I want them to be alert, not tired.”
“Right,” Renner said. “I’ll see to it.”
“Meet me back here in a half an hour,” Carter said. “I want to go over your plan for covering the teams egress after we’ve hit out target.”
“Will do,” Renner said.
Carter saw that his team had begun their equipment checks and started to check his own equipment. In a practiced, methodical manner, he laid the gear out in front of him on the school’s floor. After completing the inspection of his weapons and communication equipment, he began the lengthier process of performing diagnostic on the FIRE Teams’ standard issue battle-suit.
Retrieving a hand held computer from his pack, he used two connecting cables; using one to connect to the gauntlet attached to the jumpsuit’s left sleeve, and the other to connect the armored vest that was worn over the jumpsuit. The computer began the process of running diagnostic programs of the suits electronic systems. As this was being done, Carter tested the function of the sensors built into the ensemble’s helmet and goggles.
A sergeant from Captain Renner’s A-team approached Carter as he worked. “Is that one of those super suits I keep hearing about?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t call it a ‘super suit,’ Carter said. “But it does come in handy.”
“How does it work?” the sergeant pressed.
“Why don’t you ask Gadget,” Carter said. “He’s our resident tech-head. He’ll get off on spewing techno-babble.”
Burgett had overheard the conversation and turned toward the sergeant. ”That’s why they call me Gadget,” he said, waving the sergeant closer. “I’m a nerd; but I’m a nerd with combat skills.” The sergeant smiled and knelt beside Burgett.
“This is the Individual Battlefield Operations System; IBOS for short.” Burgett said, making a sweeping gesture toward his own equipment. “It combines body armor, automated medical systems, communications, navigational aids, and multiple-sensors, and a battlefield computer into an integrated system. It consists of a jumpsuit, a tactical vest, a helmet, a tactical hood, gloves, and boots.”
The sergeant continued to listen with great interest. Burgett went on. “There are four micro computers; each about the size of a hockey-puck. Two are in the vest, and two are incorporated into the jumpsuit. Only two are needed to operate the system, though. Other than managing the suits tactical and medical functions they also can hold five hundred gigabytes of information such as maps, floor plans and other mission critical information.
“There is all a translation function,” Burgett added. “A directional microphone picks up the language a person is speaking, translates into a language the operator chooses, and plays the translation in the earphones. As the operator speaks, it translates his language in to the other person’s language and plays it on the external earphone’s external speakers in fairly decent simulation of a human voice.”
Sains hit the vest lightly with his fist. “It also has an impact dampening capability that provides limited protection from concussion waves from explosions. The jumpsuit can take a hit from a 7.62 short
round at point blank range anywhere on the body. The helmet will stop NATO .30 caliber, and the vest can take a fifty caliber from a hundred yards but, trust me, if either of those things happen, they would still ruin your whole day.”
“Fifty cals will do that,” the sergeant said, smiling.
“The boots have integrated sensors to detect mines; you hear a specific tone in your earphones if you’re about to step on something suspicious. There are armored inserts to protect the feet if you do hit a mine.”
“The scope is actually a multi-sensor unit,” Burgett continued, pointing the scope atop his rifle, “it has light amplification, passive and active infra-red, six-power telescopic sighting and a point and shoot mode for close quarter battle. It has also has integrated laser target designation. What the scope sees can also be projected onto the wearer’s heads-up display built into the goggles, or the flip up screen on the right gauntlet. This lets the user see and shoot around obstacles without exposing his whole body. Each scope can send images to all the other scopes and heads up displays in the team’s network. That means that, if necessary, any member of the team can see what any other member has his scope trained on.”
“Like the old Land Warrior and Land Master systems,” the sergeant observed.
“This system is a bit more refined than that, but it the same principle, yes,” Burgett said. “The goggles and earphones are actually one unit,” Burgett said. “The earphones can detect and amplify sounds as low as negative fifty decibels and automatically muffle any sounds above eighty decibels. They also house our tactical communications equipment. The goggles have all of the same optical systems as the scopes.”
“The outer counting is electro-chromatic,” Sains added. “We can change the suit’s color from commando black, to urban gray, to arctic, jungle, dessert, or woodland camouflage patterns.”
“The really cool thing is the auto-med system,” Burgett went on. “The suit is made of carbon-fiber composites. Each fiber has microscopic channels that allow nanites to be distributed throughout the suit; from the hood to the boots and gloves.”
The Fate Of Nations: F.I.R.E. Team Alpha: Book One Page 19
