Annihilation (Star Force Series) (20 page)

We laid on our backs down there in our holes while dirt sifted down onto our visors and we fired our beams up into the belly. My plans of fighting the thing from underneath quickly disintegrated. I’d thought maybe we could chop off those legs and disable it—but instead it was the legs that disabled us.

There were so many of them. Hundreds of thick, steel, squirming legs. They were tube-shaped and moved with rippling segments. The worst part was that they came right down into our holes with us.

The monster robot
stepped on
us with its hundreds of legs. The fantastic weight of the machine was distributed over all those supports, but it was spread unevenly. Some men were hit with a thousand pounds of downward pressure or less, which only left bright scratches on their metal casings.

Others were not so lucky. Some must have been treated to ten or even a hundred tons of weight. Legs, chests and most certainly visors were crushed. Men shrieked or died in silence, depending on the nature of their injuries.

Still, my marines were firing their weapons as best they could. They howled in pain, fright and fury. They burned at the legs and the black wall of metal that loomed over them, cutting out the light of the white sun.

Dirt sifted down over me, and I couldn’t see much. I felt as if I’d buried myself in a grave of my own design. Lying there, I had time to think about how considerate I’d been to the Macros. I’d ordered my entire company to dig their own graves and plant themselves at the bottom of them. My foresight would save the enemy a lot of time disposing of us later on.

After an eternity that was probably less than thirty seconds in real time, the shadow lifted. Sunlight glared in my face again. I sat up, but had to struggle to turn around. My right leg had been damaged. It didn’t hurt, and it was still attached to my hip, but it wasn’t bending. Clearly, the machine had stepped on me and damaged my power-suit’s leg. I checked the read-outs: liquid flows indicated bleeding down around the knee.

Grunting and heaving with my arms, I levered myself around to face the retreating monster, which had overrun our position and kept going downslope. I didn’t have time for injuries. I had to get back into the fight.

My marines were in the same frame of mind. The survivors popped up like gophers all around me and we sent a hail of burning fire after the creature. Within less than a minute, there was a shocking result: the machine exploded.

The booming report and brilliant flash caused all of us to take cover. Seconds later, dust, shrapnel and chunks of rock came twirling down to rain on us.

“Someone finally nuked it,” Kwon said from beside me. “About time. I would have done it right off.”

“Yeah,” I said. “And this time, I think you would have been doing the right thing.”

“Yeah,” Kwon said. He climbed up to the rim of the foxhole we were in. It had turned into something that more closely resembled a smoking crater. He extended a big hand down in my direction.

I took it, and he helped me climb out of the hole. My right leg still wasn’t operating. After going over the data, I determined it was lacerated and pinched inside the crushed armor. My power-suit’s right leg was about an inch thinner than it was supposed to be, but it was still attached and the nanites were working to repair the damage.

All around us, the men tended to the wounded. Some marines had to dig themselves out of their own foxholes, which had been filled in by the passing monster.

Captain Ling showed up a few minutes later, coming from the north. I greeted him without enthusiasm.

“You could have warned us what kind of company you were bringing with you,” I said.

“Sorry sir, but we didn’t really know what we were dealing with. We crossed a wide gash in the mountain which looked artificial. We paused to investigate, but a shower of dust plumed up, obscuring everything. Before I knew what was happening, my men were running, saying some kind of monster was in the hole.”

“It was a monster, all right. How many did you lose?”

“I just did a headcount. I’ve got thirty-three effectives left.”

I stared at him. “Including the losses of in my company, we’re down about a hundred marines. Captain Marcos was also killed, her visor crushed by that machine. That’s unacceptable. You’re reduced in rank to second Lieutenant. Go get your most senior platoon leader and change places with him.”

Ling looked shocked. He dropped his eyes and stared at my boots.

“Yes sir…but, sir? My senior lieutenant is dead.”

“Do you have
any
lieutenants left?”

He finally located one, a short African-America man with a gravelly voice and a cocky look on his face. He had narrowed, squinting eyes and a bad attitude. I liked him immediately.

“Lieutenant Gaines,” I said upon meeting him. “Congratulations. I’m promoting you to captain. You’re in charge of this new, melded company. I’ve chosen you because Captain Marcos is dead, and I’ve lost confidence in Ling. I’m folding both units into one as of now.”

He looked at me with quick eyes. He didn’t appear eager, but he didn’t look worried, either. “What about the other lieutenants in Ling’s company?” he asked.

I shook my head. “They’ll serve under you. They’re fine men, but they didn’t just ride down this mountain on the back of a battleship-sized machine and survive. You did. I like survival traits. If you keep staying alive you’ll get promoted again.”

He nodded and flashed me a hint of a smile. “I’m going to hold you to that deal, sir.”

I chuckled and turned back to rebuilding the firebase. The survivors were almost all injured in some way, but they were still game.

I sat down with my newly-minted captain and had a little talk with him while a medical bot worked on my leg. Mostly, it ripped off my power-suit’s leg and hammered it back into shape.

Exposed, my flesh felt odd and prickly. I knew the nanites were at work in my bloodstream, having a race with the microbials that also called my body home to see who could repair my flesh the fastest. It was strange, having two colonies of microscopic creatures working to heal you at once. It was also itchy.

Fortunately, the atmosphere of Yale was breathable for humans. The nitrogen was a bit high, but not toxic. I could smell the air that drifted up from the opening at the suit’s hip-socket to my helmet.

Every planet has a smell, and I had to say this one wasn’t a good smell. It reminded me of a beach covered in dead fish. I guess that was to be expected. The oceans had been drained and heated. Lots of things had died here lately and they hadn’t finished decaying yet.

“Colonel?” Gaines asked me, looking around with his helmet off. “Are we going to stay on this shithole for long?”

I looked him in the eye. “I don’t think that’s the question you really want to ask. What you want to know is what every marine in this unit wants to know: why are we here?”

Captain Gaines nodded.

“Well, we’re here because there were about a trillion intelligent biotic beings on this world a month ago, and the Macros have already killed half of them. The rest were about to die when we arrived. I think we’ve done pretty well already. Looking over the casualties so far, we’ve lost about one human for every million Crustaceans we saved by coming here.”

“Sounds like a good deal,” Gaines said. “But the Crustaceans are still technically the enemy.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. They could have hit us when we landed, but they didn’t. They’re cooperating with us by staying out of it. By the end of this battle, I expect to see human and Crustacean marines fighting side-by-side. That’s why we’re really here. To gain another powerful ally against the machines.”

Captain Gaines appeared to think about it. I could tell he wasn’t fully convinced, but at least he had listened.

The truth was that few humans liked the Lobsters. If they all died, not too many of us would cry about it. They were irritating when you talked to them, and even worse when you fought with them. They were tricky, arrogant, and very difficult to convince of anything that wasn’t their idea to begin with. But I hadn’t given up on them yet. I couldn’t afford to. There were just too damned many of the bastards. I needed their numbers to swell my ranks against the machines.

“There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about,” Gaines said. “It’s about that machine—it wasn’t a normal Macro design. You noticed that, didn’t you?”

“How could I not?”

“It wasn’t a pure Macro, as I understand these things. It had those arms—that’s nano-tech, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I know what you’re getting at, and I’ve been thinking about it too. I don’t like the implications. If the Macros have begun to weave the Nano technology into their systems designs…well, that removes one of our key strategic advantages.”

“That thing was some kind of hybrid. It reminded me of that robot friend of yours. What’s his name?”

“Marvin,” I said, “yes, there was a resemblance.”

Gaines gave me a hard stare. “He hasn’t been in touch with the Macros, has he sir?” he asked. “This Marvin bot of yours? You don’t think he’s been giving them ideas?”

“Do you have any evidence on which to base that accusation, Captain?”

“Sorry if you don’t want to hear that, Colonel.”

I thought about it, and his question made too much sense. He had to ask it. The thing had looked like a gigantic version of Marvin, after all.

Where had the Macros gotten the idea to build such a thing? Had they examined Marvin from afar and copied him? I shook my head slowly.

“Don’t be sorry, Captain,” I said. “I want you to keep giving me ideas like that, whenever you have one.”

“Sure thing.”

We had some coffee and talked about less disturbing things for a few minutes, such as gun emplacements, patrol schedules and enemy sightings.

All the while we spoke, however, my mind was in a different place. How
had
the Macros gotten the idea to use Nano tech? Where had they found the factories to make the nanites in the first place? The Macro factories couldn’t do such fine work.

Distracted, I went over recent events in my mind carefully. Marvin had been in contact with the Macros as a translator on many occasions. He’d also transmitted codes through the ring in an attempt to shut it off—but he had ended up reversing it, which had allowed the Macros to invade. Had that been an actual accident? I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure.

It would be easy enough to assume that the Macros had observed us and adapted to our behavior patterns. We were now using both Nano and Macro factories and producing equipment that combined both technologies. But the Macros in my experience had never been so adaptable that they could begin using tech they were unfamiliar with. They almost had to be reprogrammed to go in an entirely new directly. But how had the idea originated? Who had given it to them?

I just didn’t know, and not knowing disturbed me.

Over the next hour, our base swelled as four more companies arrived. Upslope, more and more troops kept dropping in. There were eight firebases like mine now, scattered over the mountainous island. The enemy had yet to put in a major appearance, but I expected a counterpunch at any moment.

When the strike came, it wasn’t a surprise. Often the Macros behaved in a predictable fashion. But they did hurt us.

“Missiles sir!” Captain Gaines shouted in my headset.

I didn’t bother to ask for confirmation, range or numbers. The enemy concentrations were only twenty miles distant, and their missiles flew like ICBMs. We didn’t have much time to react.

I tapped into the general override for the entire mission. “Marines, this is Colonel Riggs. We have incoming enemy missiles. Activate all defensive systems. Take immediate cover anywhere you can.”

I switched over to operational command and contacted Captain Sarin.

“Jasmine? This is it. They’re making their first play. Send down your fighter wing on CAP to give us air cover.”

“Already done, Colonel,” she responded crisply. “They’re on the way down. They’ll reach effective range in ninety-five seconds. I’ve scrambled my second wing as well. Will you require more coverage?”

I didn’t know enough yet to answer her. I didn’t even know if two minutes would be quick enough. Part of me wanted to second-guess myself, to chide myself for not having brought the fighter cover down earlier.

I hadn’t done it because we couldn’t be sure how this attack was going to play out. The machines might have come at us with a massive ground attack. In that case, the fighters were not going to be as effective as ground troops. Because these Macros had shields, they were hard targets for low-wattage lasers on a fighter ship. The tiny craft couldn’t penetrate the shields and they couldn’t fly into them either, as the shields would turn rigid and destroy something moving as fast as a fighter.

I hadn’t wanted to waste my fighters, so I’d held them in reserve. Now it was turning out that I needed them. Each tiny ship possessed a gun that could be fired manually or in an automatic mode when slaved to a brainbox. When full-auto was selected, each fighter became a small, flying point-defense laser turret. It was harder to hit something when both the platform and the target were moving, so they usually sat at altitude and hovered.