Gunship (61 page)

“Give it up, boy. Unless you have a death wish, that is, in which case I’m more than happy to oblige you!” Welch struggled to his feet, still holding his broken ribs, as the nearest troops reached over to take his arms.

“Get off me!” he growled. “I don’t need your help.”

They didn’t let go. Instead, the first troop twisted his arm back and fitted him with locking cuffs. Welch stared at the trooper as confused as Crazy Ray, who stood blankly looking on, both of them trying to figure out what was occurring. Only Seth seemed unsurprised by this. He turned towards the men and began to speak.

“It’s all very simple what’s happening here. But maybe it’s so simple that it’s hard for you to comprehend. Let me explain. Did you know that implants have four segments of susceptible code?”

Welch and Alton looked at the boy as if he were some kind of circus act. Seth nodded and continued as he walked over to one of the troopers.

“That code can be altered, and if done appropriately, it can be modified to transfer the authority over to a new owner. In this case, I reprogrammed the local troopers to respond to my father. The Enforcers too. Anytime you are in danger, they will come for you”—Seth spoke this last part to Crazy Ray—“just like I always will.”

He turned back to Welch and raised the blaster again. “So what do you want me to do with him?”

Crazy Ray couldn’t believe his luck. Not only did he have his own brainwashed Gaiden working for him, but now he also had his own military. Hell, why not add in a galaxy? He took another swig from the bottle and gestured at Welch with it.

“Nothing. Leave him to fight. He can work for us now and it will draw our enemies out, bring them to us. And we can finally get our revenge…for your brother and your mother. Besides, I think it’s time this galaxy had some changes, don’t you?”

Seth nodded and lowered the blaster, while Welch stood in silent shock, staring back at them. Crazy Ray signaled the troopers to put Welch down on his knees as he swaggered over. He set the bottle down and pulled a thin case from his pocket, then extracted a thick needle and an implant device. He loaded it up and positioned it at the back of Welch’s head. Then he leaned in and began to whisper into his ear.

“So while you are in charge of the Forum and the AOC, everything you do you’ll report back to me, because you won’t have a choice. You will still be who you say you are and nobody will know I’m in charge. They’ll never suspect it, your arms dealer and minister of defense all in one, the guy who works for you but who is actually pulling the strings of the great Razam Welch!” Crazy Ray spit on the floor and then leaned back in.

“You see, with you it was your pride. You thought you were so smart, and I let you think it. I told you, Razam, watch out for me, when you least expect it. I’ve been hunting for years, I study my prey, and then when I find a weakness I pull them in, and then I kill them. I’m very good at it!” He giggled at Welch’s look of disdain. “Don’t worry, I need you around for a while yet before that. You still owe me for the loss of my station. I’ve never had my own galaxy before, so it should be a fair trade. Try not to get yourself killed on my behalf, all right?” Crazy Ray slapped Welch on the cheek sharply, making him blink, before pressing his lips against Welch’s ear to throw a final verbal sucker punch.

“By the way, I thought you’d want to know your man Dobbin was working for me. In fact, he was the one who hid the boy’s value from you. Deleted all of the public files and then encrypted what he found and sent it straight to me! Do you know the kid is one of the youngest Gaiden ever to be trained? Somehow it seems that he has malfunctioned a bit, has some bad code tied into his prefrontal cortex that makes him subject to emotional controls. I’m betting that Zain will want him back very much. So will Captain Campbell. Turns out this little monster is her pilot’s kid! Imagine that! So I thank you for that gift as well!” Crazy Ray played with the needle as he watched Welch taking it all in.

Welch turned pale and then reddened again as he listened to Alton’s words, his neck straining against the troopers’ arms as they kept forcing him forward towards the ground. He cursed as Crazy Ray slowly pricked the back of his neck with the needle before driving it in and lodging the implant. The troopers turned him to face Crazy Ray again. Welch looked at him with hatred, wishing they would give him just one chance to kill this bastard as he started speaking again.

“I made this implant just for you. It’s very special, because you will know you are implanted and you will know what is going on around you at all times. But you won’t be able to tell anyone else that you are implanted. And you won’t be able to disobey my orders or do anything I don’t want you to do—at least not without dealing with a lot of pain! I like to keep things interesting!”

The troopers uncuffed Welch and he immediately lunged for Raymond’s throat. Before he could even get close, intense pain shot through his body, throwing him to the floor. He tried again to get to a knife, but the pain simply increased and he howled as he writhed around, dragging a Persian rug along with him.

Crazy Ray sat back in Welch’s leather chair and watched as his old nemesis lay exhausted on the floor at his feet. Seth stood next to him, alert and watching for any threats. Crazy Ray grinned at the boy and then poured himself another drink. He raised his glass and looked at Seth.

“A toast to our enemies. May they all be as stupid as this one!”

Seth shook his head and laughed as Crazy Ray knocked back another glass. The he sobered a bit as he looked at Welch on the floor. Crazy Ray noticed and took the boy by the arm.

“What is it, son? You did so very well today, and we are finally getting ahead of our enemies. Why are you upset?” Crazy Ray watched the boy carefully for anything that might indicate he was coming out of the induced stupor that he was keeping him in.

Seth sighed. He didn’t want to ruin his father’s happiness, but she was always in the back of his mind lately.

“Do you ever think we’ll see Mom again?”

Crazy Ray’s eyes lit up hungrily. “If I know her, she’s bound to turn up sooner or later. I don’t think they can keep her from us…in fact, I’d stake my life on it. She’ll be back…when we least expect it.”

They stared at each other and Seth nodded. He hoped she’d be back soon. It would be nice to have his whole family together again. Besides, he could tell how much she meant to his father. Even now he could see that just the mention of her was bringing back fond memories of their time together. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to torture so many spies in his desperation to find her. Seth rubbed his temples. The weird ringing was starting again, followed by sharp spiking pains in his head. Crazy Ray glanced up at him in mock concern.

“You should lie down on the couch. I’m safe enough now with all of the soldiers you made me.”

Seth winced and slowly sat as Crazy Ray helped him swing his legs onto the cushions. In a few minutes, he was out. The arms dealer pulled out another vial and needle, then injected the boy with the drugs that would keep him under. He had done well today, and his moral boundaries were breaking a bit more with every life he took. He flipped open his handheld and studied the brain patterns. They looked more like his every day. Crazy Ray smiled. He wished he knew who had programmed this kid so he could thank them. They had given him the perfect code to exploit, and now he had his own Gaiden bodyguard who would readily die to protect him. His own galaxy, a son who would kill for him, his own military, Welch as his patsy, and an unlimited population of victims—what more could he want?

In his mind she appeared again, and he twisted in anguish thinking about her. It was a wonderful, hellish feeling. He sat back on the end of the couch. Soon, he’d have her too.

The air was dry and frigid in the underground bunker. The place hadn’t changed much since the last time she had been here. They were fortunate. The generators and air handlers still worked, which was good. The atmosphere was very thin and oxygen concentrations were low. Everyone would need to wear full face masks with re-breathers when on patrol outside. The supply storage cages were locked like they had left them. Chang cut the retaining devices off and opened the doors to reveal re-breathers, harness rigs, and leftover tundra tac-gear. Reilly looked through it while Lee Roy and Marek began to inventory the supplies. It was dusty but serviceable.

Trace reported in to tell her that their sister planet’s bunker was in similar shape. He and his squadron were getting set up there now. They had divided the transports between them and a third planet, the last one in the ice planet picket line, which housed a large underground bunker that was well protected and had more storage space for the freighters to unload and dock. This planet was set back from the other two and would be the most defensible if they came under direct attack.

Gunships began landing and crews stepped off the ships, grounding them and setting up their spaces. There was enough room for the 223 souls who had been brave enough or foolish enough to follow them into war. Chang and Holly directed crews into the more serviceable bunkers so they could set up living spaces. Ty and Tiny began their security checks. They set their teams to the task of exploring and re-mapping all of bunkers and overwatch positions, documenting any damage or identifying locations for additional security augmentation.

Reilly signed forms, made decisions, and hollered out directions to her crew as they led the bed-down of forces. After a few hours, everything was moving and Reilly was no longer needed. She drifted down the partially lit corridor leading to the command bunker. The lights flickered in the dusty room as she wiped off the machines. The huge holotable was still anchored to the floor, surrounded by the stations that monitored the old alert network and their detection systems. She took a breath and flipped the switch, igniting the room in a blaze of color as the computers came to life again. There was a soft whir as the system scanned her, and then a voice.

“Greetings, Captain Campbell, Reilly A. Welcome back to Fire Base Rime.”

Reilly ignored the computer. She pulled up the holotable and generated the three-dimensional version of their bunker and the surrounding battlespace, spinning it slowly, studying it, remembering it. She pushed the model out further until it encompassed all three of their planets. The Commander was no idiot when it came to strategy, and while Reilly might not trust him in other areas, she did with this. The galactic picket line had been set up years ago when interstellar travel had encroached on alien-controlled space, leading to the first alien invasion. It formed a horseshoe-shaped line of defenses near what was known as the galactic bar, a procession of old red stars that stretched thousands of light-years across the galaxy. Beyond this line was a no man’s land where gravitational forces were at their strongest, pulling the stars into a flat disc around the massive black hole that was the galaxy’s central hub. The solar systems along the picket line were close enough to the bar to prevent enemy forces from being able to attack from behind. Ships that did get behind these solar systems would be too close to the black hole’s event horizon to escape its tremendous gravitational pull.

Forward of the picket were field upon field of deep space sensors, most of them armed and capable of defending themselves for short periods if attacked. Gaps in between the sensors were often filled with extensive minefields to prevent undetected ingress. Between the planets, fleet space stations and patrols were used to defend their flanks. The planets themselves were armed with light turrets to provide viable surface and upper-atmosphere defense when occupied. The ice planets, having very thin atmospheres, tended to have less atmospheric attenuation, allowing their laser weapons to travel farther and still have a significant impact
. At least they have that going for them,
Reilly noted grimly.

The deep-space sensor system showed up like a sea of fireflies, red and green lights indicating broken and functioning detectors around them in the void. Reilly opened her book and jotted down which ones were working and which ones needed to be upgraded or repaired. She looked over the minefields and identified locations for additional mine-laying operations. With any luck, she’d be able to use the sensors and the mines to channelize a large attacking force, forcing them into several chokepoints that would aid in the planets’ defense. Reilly opened her handheld and began to set up a list of tasks to distribute to the wing.

Five hours later, she paused, realizing how much still needed to be done before they would be really ready for a fight. Items that would take months but needed to be repaired in days topped the list. Reilly sighed and closed her data sheets out before shutting her handheld. Sleep was also on her to-do list, although it wouldn’t be for more than a few hours. She trudged back towards the ship, crunching through pockets of ice on the concrete and metal floor plates. The interior bunker temperatures were warm enough but just barely, at 58 degrees. Reilly refused to increase the temperature and risk drawing off power that could be used for other functions. Only the living quarters were kept warmer, so people could get adequate sleep. Exterior temperatures frequently stayed in the negative twenties during the day. Reilly stopped to check the mission board. Security patrols had begun surveys of the surrounding areas. Ty had set up overwatch positions outside the bunker, just in case they had any unexpected visitors. The deep-space sensors, even when fully operational, still had been known to miss single alien reconnaissance birds and the occasional raiding craft. Trying to track a tiny ship in the void that was space was a difficult challenge. The sensor net was designed to provide warning of multiple raiding craft of squadron-or-larger-size formations heading towards the picket. But one or two small spacecraft could slip through without detection, especially if they had skilled electronics operators on board.

Two young sergeants walked by her, shouldering rifles and pulling on snow gear for the evening watch. Reilly didn’t envy them that job. She had stood security duty many long, cold nights on this planet, peering through the snow and ice as she paced to keep warm. At least the light was constant. The ice planets were part of a trinary solar system, so they never got completely dark. Instead, they tended to vary in shades of gray as the planet rotated. Morning was bright gray. Evening was more of a smoke gray or a stormy gray, depending on the wind and snow.

Reilly could hear the wind, even though she was underground in a bunker. It made a continuous whine that reverberated through the thick slab ceiling as she entered the gunship’s side hatch and headed up towards her room. The whine became a howl, accompanying the dread she felt towards her next task. She reluctantly tossed her gear aside and made her way over to the wall across from her bunk.

On the bookshelf sat an older log book, dirty and smudged, coated in salt from sweat and no few tears. Reilly took it down with even measures of love and hate for the memories it held. She opened it carefully and shifted through the pages and her old notes. It was all here. The first day she arrived as a young lieutenant until day 467 when a gunship finally pulled her and what was left of her team out of the frozen hell that still occupied her nightmares. The aliens had been relentless once they had figured out the gunship raiding parties had been launching from the nearby planets. Every day, sometimes multiple times in a day, her team would come under fire on patrol as they were ambushed or snipers sought to pick them off. Storm days were the worst. Visibility was less than a foot, and attacks came with very little warning. A routine patrol could go downhill fast as humans struggled to outmaneuver aliens who could see and breathe in the planet’s thin, cold atmosphere. One minute you were all walking, the next half the platoon was laid out dead, hacked to bits by alien weapons as the monsters lunged out of the snow banks to kill whoever was left.

Reilly had learned her lessons well. She had the scars to prove it. Others were not as lucky. Thirteen good men and women she lost in the first six months. Even with careful planning and all the luck in the world, if it was your time, then that was it. The battles were harsh and bloody for both sides. By the time they finally pulled out, the aliens had been forced to retreat, thanks in no small part to Commander Zain’s bold strategies. Rime was a place of bad memories for all of them. Ty had lost a full platoon to an assassin, barely surviving the encounter himself. Chang had been a sergeant then, training the troops in ground combat and leading some of the more technical mission in the field. Every day he had to watch the ranks thin, as their losses climbed when the aliens tried for a final push to gain the mountain and then the bunkers. To be back here again was like being forced into an old nightmare, except this time there were new faces. Reilly knew she would be seeing them in her dreams. She saw all of them after they died, as if they were reluctant to leave, as if they wanted an explanation for why it had to be them.

In her mind, she recalled each patrol entry. The first attack was still the worst. The sleet was driving sideways and she could barely make out the shadowy soldier trudging up the hill in front of her. Then suddenly she felt a gush of air as the white stuff billowed up in front of her, blinding her briefly. She froze, waiting for the soldier behind her to run into her. Finally, when someone did, it wasn’t the sergeant who had been following her. The silence was torturous and they didn’t dare to breathe, even though the full-face-mask re-breathers hid the sounds under the blackened rubber and goggles. The click of fire selectors being turned to burst or auto sounded like loud pops. As she turned, scanning through the sleet, a shiny object flew away from her, drawing her attention for just a second. Before she could react, the sergeant had thrown her back and jumped on the grenade at her feet. Everything turned pink, and then the aliens were on them and amongst them. The silence broke under the sounds of explosions and gunfire and screams from both sides. When it was over, they gathered up the bodies they could find and made their way back to the bunkers. And then they went back to do it again the next day and the day after that until all the attacks and deaths and fear and hate blended together into one never-ending way of life. Reilly had hated it, and more than that, she had hated that she loved it too. The rush she felt every time she survived was only matched by her hatred of the enemy and her desire to kill more of them to avenge those she had lost. It became an addiction, a vicious cycle that was impossible to break until the day they finally let them leave. Then they all had to learn how to live again. Until the next war zone or the next battle was thrust upon them.

The knock startled her. She set down the log and walked over to the hatch and opened it. Chang looked at her and stepped in at her invite. He saw the log book and was about to speak when Reilly cut in.

“Tunnels. We need them.”

Chang smiled a tired sort of smile. “So we change the style of fighting. They will still need to patrol outside to keep them back. We must have a perimeter and outer defense to complement the interior.”

“I know. But if we push out our perimeter underground as well and make them fight on our terms, then maybe, just maybe, we’ll win a few more and lose a lot less. Can we do it?”

“I think so. The generators checked out and the geothermal power system is still in relatively solid shape. Lee Roy and Marek got into the old maintenance area once we finished clearing the collapsed tunnel. They found the robots and are working on getting them running again. That will be a significant help to us.”

Reilly sketched the main bunker complex from memory and then began to add on spokes radiating outward. She drew in some cross hatches and adjoining areas, along with a few stairways and tunnels to the surface. Then she added in blocking positions. She shoved the rough sketch over to Chang.

“This could work very well for us,” he said, tracing the drawing with an index finger. “These blocking positions can be wired up with explosives ahead of time, and we can either manually detonate them or centrally detonate them from the command center to close off any compromised areas.”

“We can move patrols out this way too. Instead of wearing them out trying to get them to the more remote sectors, they can travel most of the way underground without having to be on guard constantly. We don’t have the numbers to be able to accommodate high ambush losses. I’m thinking several well-disguised hide sites to cover the entrances, and we back them up with security cameras so they can see what’s outside before they open up.” Reilly tapped her pen on a few possible locations.

Chang nodded. “Tiny can help with this. She has designed covert facilities before, so she will have some good inputs on tunnel placement and security. She mentioned wanting to emplace some booby traps on the surface as well. I’ll talk to her in the morning about it.”

“I’ll share our ideas with Captain Callum and Captain Slauson, too. Any alien forces, if they fought here before, will know these planets as well as we do. I want to make sure we have a few surprises for them that will make them think twice before barging onto our turf.”

“I agree. If we can make them pay for it up front, they will be forced to move more cautiously when they do come against us.” Chang took the sketch and put it in his pocket. “It’s a good plan.”

Reilly continued, “I want you and the crew to find some time to test out our haul from Vervian—discreetly. I think some of that alien tech might come in handy as part of our plan. Get Tiny to catalog the items she is familiar with, and see if she is willing to give us some train-up on them. But let’s keep it to a small group of special operators for now. I don’t want word to get out, in case we have any spies we missed. We’re going to need every little bit of edge we can get.”