Earth Colony Sentinel (Galactic Arena Book 2)

by Dan Davis

  Sheila intruded, a note of urgency in her voice and speaking rapidly, as if Kat’s ERANS was still peaking. “Climb to six thousand meters. Immediately.”

  Kat yanked back on the stick, checking the threat warnings. “Confirmed, ascending to six-K. Do we have incoming fire?”

  “No external threats detected. We are now down to one-percent battery level. If you can reach six thousand meters before the batteries run dry, we may be able to glide to the outpost airstrip.”

  Kat grinned, leaned over to punch Dr. Fo on the arm. “Hear that, Doc? We’re going to make it.”

  “Please,” he said, his voice tiny and quivering. “Please put me down upon solid ground and you shall have a friend for life.”

  “I didn’t know you were afraid of flying, Doc.”

  “I never have been. Only since I boarded this particular vessel.”

  Kat laughed. “Shit, Doc. Insult me all you want. I’m the best bloody pilot in the galaxy.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “You’re in serious trouble, now,” Cassidy said, his face immobile. “You do realize, that, don’t you?”

  Director Zuma stood next to the Captain in her office, such as it was. Behind Cassidy, Sergeant Gruger stood against the wall. He was armed.

  Upon entering, they had forced Ram to fold himself into a chair so that he would not be looming over them and making them feel small. Even then, he felt far too big for the room.

  But he felt tired. Exhausted, even. And he rested as best he could while they chewed him out.

  “You’re finished,” Zuma said, frowning with fake concern.

  “I always resisted allowing you into the Marines,” Cassidy said. “I told Zhukov and the UNOP Command that you were not Marine material and I was proven right when you murdered your comrade in arms. And I let myself be convinced that wiping your memory would be the best thing for the greater good. For the publicity. For the masses back home that need a hero. But I was wrong.”

  “So, let me understand you,” Ram said, yawning. “Your old boss is dead and you’re cut off from Earth so you’re going against their last orders to you? Seems a bit presumptuous.”

  Cassidy’s face flushed and his mouth drew into a tight line. Zuma placed her fingers on Cassidy’s arm.

  “Your fame, such as it is, can only protect you so far,” Zuma said. “And this insubordination has proven you have no place in the Marines and you have nothing to contribute to the scientific community. You are dead weight here.”

  “Even if I’m not a Marine,” Ram said, acting as if speaking those words didn’t make him feel like crap, “I can still fight. I am useful, I’ve proven that.”

  Cassidy laughed. “You’re a menace. You almost got a group of Marines killed. You almost caused us to lose our only shuttle. I’ll not have you fighting anywhere near here. You do more harm than good.”

  Zuma nodded. “You forget that we are in control here. We are in charge. We control the food and water, medical supplies. Everything.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Ram asked. “What did I do to you? Is it because it was me who won in the arena rather than Mael or whoever? I upset your plans or something?”

  Cassidy started to say something but Zuma held up her hand. “You don’t seem to understand. There is no ulterior motive here. And I do sympathize with you. But you are, I’m afraid to say, a scientific experiment that led nowhere. Rather, a prototype that failed. I know Ensign Tseng explained your history to you but I doubt he knows very much. Your brain was damaged. Dr. Fo bringing you back in another body always had a high risk of failure. Look at what happened to Sifa. Such a vibrant young woman, so quick witted and engaging. Dr. Fo transferred her stored consciousness into the artificial person clone and what are we left with? You’ve met her, down here in the outpost. Did she seem like the same person to you? She is a shell of who she was. She has no sense of humor. No life in her. It’s quite ruined her ability to fight. All she is now is a gigantic mouth to feed. A bipedal forklift. And you. You came back as a lunatic. A violent psychopath. Undisciplined and uncontrollable. I should have you locked up with the wheelhunters.”

  “Why don’t you?” Ram’s mouth was dry. He licked his lips. “If I’m so dangerous.”

  “I am a compassionate person. I know you’re trying. But I also know you’re openly traitorous and so does every other person on this outpost.”

  “What about the others?” Ram asked. “My team.”

  Cassidy’s mouth twitched. “Same as you. Different reasons, of course. They have truly demonstrated their lack of worth and no Marine on this planet is going to want one of those people watching their backs. Tseng is quarantined and is going to lose his leg, probably. That’s on you. Cooper is so badly concussed that his brain damage may be permanent. That’s on you, too. Sergeant Stirling had some psychological problems in the last year or so but now, thanks to you, he stole a drone and, more importantly, two vital military vehicles and he will be court martialed. Flores never should have been here and she’s proved that now. Corporal Fury’s petty thieving has escalated into full blown larceny. I always hoped that Harris would learn to keep his unconventional behavior under control but, thanks to your influence, he has become openly insubordinate and there’s nothing more I can do. I know you thought you were doing something to help. Frankly, you were lucky that pilot was crazy enough to pick you up. If not for that, you would all be dead and we would be without our two ETATs.”

  Ram had to stand up for himself somehow. “Be that as it may, we saved one of the abductees. We got an enemy prisoner and we—”

  “You see how he says we, now?” Zuma said to Cassidy. “Hoping to spread the blame.” She glared at Ram. “If you hoped to impress us with your rescued physicist, I’m afraid you have returned him in a poor state.”

  “He’s raving fucking mad,” Cassidy said. “A broken man.”

  Zuma wafted a hand. “That remains to be seen. But he is extremely traumatized. I would never say this but some people might believe Dr. Arthur might have been better off left where he was.”

  Ram shifted in his tiny chair and began to argue.

  “Save it,” Cassidy said. “You will report to Medical in the morning and they will give you some things to take. These will help you to control your aggression and your paranoia. It is non-negotiable. Then you will be assigned to guard duty over the wheeler prisoners in the normal rotation. That will free up one proper Marine for perimeter duty for one watch per day, so you will continue to serve a purpose. But if you do anything to risk the people here, I will have you sedated and chained up, do you understand?”

  Ram nodded. “I understand that you unofficially ordered Tseng to assist us so that you could get rid of us. I just don’t understand why you would throw away resources like that. A significant portion of your forces. Surely, it can’t all be incompetence?”

  Behind the Captain, Sergeant Gruger stood straighter and flexed his shoulders.

  But Cassidy’s face fell into blankness. “Whatever lies Ensign Tseng told, you should disregard.”

  “Were you trying to provoke the wheelers into attacking the outpost again?” Ram asked. “Are you trying to win victory on the ground before the real soldiers show up on the Sentinel? If you are, that’s insane. You’ve seen the images of them chasing us as we escaped. There are at least dozens of wheelers out there, probably hundreds and maybe thousands.”

  “Get some rest,” Zuma said. “Then report to Medical, then you will be on guard duty. Unarmed. But you’re used to that.”

  “I’m confused,” Ram said. “Am I still a Marine Corp officer or not? Are you ordering me in that capacity or is this, like, a favor you’re asking?”

  “Just get out, smart ass,” Cassidy said. “While you still can.”

  Ram stood, hunching under the low ceiling but doing it suddenly enough to startle Sergeant Gruger and make Cassidy wary. Ram looked between the three of them, gave them his best grin, saluted and strolled out, squeezing through the doo
r.

  Those dirty bastards.

  ***

  “I’m sorry, Sergeant,” Ram said to Stirling.

  The big man was out on the perimeter, shoveling a heap of pulverized stone into sand bags. The trenches and walls all around the outpost had come a long way in just the day or so since he’d last seen them. Civilians and Marines worked with the bulldozer, drones and old-fashioned picks and wheelbarrows. The remnants of the wrecked enemy tanks had finally been removed, chopped up and dragged away by the drones.

  “Not your fault, sir,” Stirling said, without stopping. His armor was covered in fine black dust.

  “You don’t have to keep calling me sir. I think they’ve run me out of the Marines. If I ever was one in the first place.”

  “Far as I’m concerned, sir,” Stirling said, “you confirmed you were a Marine when you carried Ensign Tseng out of that cave on your shoulder.”

  “Well, thank you, Sergeant. But I would have done that for anyone. I had a civilian on the other shoulder.”

  “Exactly, sir,” Stirling said. “Exactly.”

  “It makes no sense that Cassidy has you digging. You’re one of the most experienced veterans here and if the wheelers do come again, we’re going to need you fresh and ready. You should be in a weapons team. I mean, come on. You should be in the CIC, advising the Captain.”

  Stirling chuckled. “He doesn’t want me anywhere near him. Even with that bastard Gruger to cover his ass. No, my fighting days were numbered when I knocked him out.”

  Ram hesitated. “You what? When? What are you talking about?”

  “Yeah. I knocked him out.” Stirling stepped back while a drone delivered another bucket of crushed stone to his pile, then he started shoveling again. “He’ll never tell you, or anyone, I bet but that’s why he threw me out in the first place. Gruger put the word out that it was about disobeying an order and my removal from duty was due to mental health issues because I lost Maria. And yeah, I had been depressed for weeks and everyone knew it. Cassidy was chewing me out for not doing my duty, for not looking out for the people in my team, for Flores’ performance being shit. And Cassidy was mad because someone kept stealing his shit. Taking his personal effects from his quarters. It was Fury but he didn’t know. Anyway, so he was in my face, screaming at me, with his spit flying out of his mouth like he was a drill sergeant and I was a recruit or something. He’d really lost his mind. I don’t know what came over me but I just clocked him one, right under the ear. Caught him sweet and he was out like a light.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then nothing. I checked he was breathing, put him in the recovery position and went back to work. Then my next psych eval? I’m pulled from active duty and transferred to the Spaz Squad.”

  “Cassidy never pressed charges?”

  “Too embarrassed, I guess. The man’s sort of a legend in the Corps. He probably didn’t want his rep tarnished. I never said anything to anyone before. Think I’ll tell everyone when I finish my watch, though.”

  “Why was he so angry at you? For performance issues?”

  “It’s never about the thing it seems to be about, have you noticed that, sir? My relationship with Maria was against regs, sure. But Sergeant Major Gruger squealed to Cassidy. Any normal sergeant would let it go. We weren't bothering anyone. But Gruger never liked that I wasn't scared of him, wasn’t scared or cowed by Cassidy. When Gruger found out about us, he was so happy. For days, grinning when he saw me. I didn't know why at the time. But it was because he had found a way to hurt me. Something to finally use against me. And Gruger has always been pouring poison into Cassidy’s ear. I don’t know, neither of them could stand any hint of disloyalty.”

  "Why are there so many people like that on the mission? What was the selection criteria?"

  Sergeant Stirling laughed, bitterly. "Two reasons. One is the nature of our dominant political ideology. TechPrimitivism says that conflict within groups should be minimized through conflict, or competition with, out-groups and other groups. What happens when we're isolated out here? There's no other group to join and no one to compete with. A splinter group can't break off and start our own tribe or company. Second is the selection process. We are hundreds of people. We all held it together, were on our best behavior during selection. But no one is a paragon of virtue all day, every day and some unsavory people got through. We're on our best behavior most of the time in life, right? They look back at our personal histories and they can't see what shit is in our hearts. Conflicts start small and build up. The interwoven relationships became labyrinthine. Did they know Zuma was a megalomaniac? I guess they did. And Zhukov was put here to keep her in check, which he did for a long time. But she's played the long game. She wants to be top dog. As does Cassidy. He's making a career move. Those people could be kings out here. Imagine being in command of an outpost all the way out here. Years from Earth. No one here to challenge your authority. How can this not attract megalomaniacs? How does it not bring the latent dictator out? In spite of a lifetime of service, a lifetime of following orders.”

  “Is that really what you think they’re up to?”

  Stirling shrugged. “I’m willing to bet that’s what you saw, too. Before they screwed with your memories. I wonder if the two things are related? Strange sentence for murder, sir, ain’t it?”

  What had Sifa said? You are being lied to? He’d thought she was hinting that he had been awake for ten months but was there more to it? Some plot he had uncovered?

  Did it even matter anymore?

  Ram looked around at the people and drones working hard on the defenses. Above, a few specks circled against the cloudy turquoise sky. Surveillance microdrones, keeping watch against incursion for kilometers all around. “Do you think the wheelers will attack again? Tseng was convinced they’re tactically naive. That the ones on the planet are just civilians or maybe amateurs. You know, like militia units. That make sense to you?”

  “Tseng is a twat but he’s no dummy. We know these guys are slow on the uptake but when they get rolling, they turn into a right shower of bastards. Know what I mean?”

  “I think I get the gist.” The plain stretched off to the close black hills and, beyond, to a jagged horizon. “When it all kicks off, we will have to look out for each other.”

  “We, sir?”

  “You, me, Harris, Cooper, Flores, Fury. If the others won’t watch out for us then we need to rely on each other.”

  “Sounds good to me. Tell you what, sir. I’ll find the others and then I’ll find you.”

  Ram nodded, looking up at the hills. “They took my weapons, Sergeant.”

  “Aye, sir. I reckon you should get them back.”

  ***

  “Come in here,” Dr. Rothbard called, poking his head of his lab door.

  “Me?” Ram said, even though there was no one else in the corridor where he was standing, hunched beneath the ceiling in his armor. “I’m on guard duty, Doctor.”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Rothbard said. “The aliens you are guarding are within this very room.”

  “I know that but I’m not supposed to leave…” The doctor disappeared back into the lab with the door ajar. “Leave my post.”

  Why do I care? I’m not a real Marine. What’s Cassidy going to do to me?

  Ram ducked in through the open door. One half of the laboratory was sectioned off with floor to ceiling steel bars, 3cm thick, shining puddles of welding on the floor where the bars touched it. It looked like a sloppy, rushed job but then, of course it was. Still, he was sure the engineers and scientists knew what they were doing and that it was perfectly safe.

  Behind the bars, two wheelhunter prisoners.

  One large and the other smaller.

  The small one was the very same alien that Ram had brought out of the wheeler lava tube and held onto during the wild escape from the horde of mad wheelers and their vehicles.

  Dr. Rothbard and his team gathered in the other half of the room.

&
nbsp; “Rama, please.” Rothbard led Rama away from the humans and the aliens. “I need to talk to you about your sample.”

  “My what?”

  Rothbard cleared his throat. “When you returned from your recent excursion and delivered that—” he pointed at the small wheeler, “—you had a biological sample in your medical pouch.”

  “The blood I scraped from armor I found in the wheeler base. You tested it? Do you know who it was?”

  “It was disgustingly contaminated but yes, I’m afraid it is a match for Milena.”

  His legs wobbled and he leaned on the edge of a bench with one hand.

  I failed. She is dead.

  Ram took a shaky breath. “I knew it would be.”

  “That’s an illogical thing to say,” Rothbard said, appearing to be confused. “Purely pessimistic thinking. You had a one-in-five chance of being correct about who the suit belonged to, assuming you were telling the truth about your inability to judge its overall size or any distinguishing features due to the enormous volume of blood and other tissue contained within.”

  “Shut up, Doc.”

  Rothbard scowled up at him. “I’m sure you’re quite upset but we’ve all lost friends to these creatures. There’s no need to be rude.” The xenobiologist placed a hand on Ram’s arm. “May I ask you some questions about your guest, here?”

  They approached the prison, the other scientists making space for Ram. “You haven’t taken their suits off.”

  “Why would I? That might kill them. I don’t want anything to happen to these wonderful creatures.”

  “They’re killers,” Ram said. “You just said so yourself.”

  “Aren’t we killers, also?” Dr. Rothbard asked, waving a hand airily.

  “No. They attacked the outpost first. All we’ve done is defend ourselves.”

  The smaller wheeler crouched in the corner, legs and arms folded in to the central hub.