Swapship Troopers Page 8

Chapter 8

  Implosion

  “Son of a bitch,” Vanlanding griped. There was still a significant attack force heading toward their fellow Marines. Quantrill could hear the Corporal on the radio with Lieutenant Hardaway. “Be advised,” Vanlanding was saying, “approximately 30 Bugs are …”

  Quantrill stepped away and looked up toward the sky. There was another sound – barely audible, but distinct. Buzzing. “Buzzard inbound!” he yelled.

  Quantrill dropped to one knee and pointed his rifle skyward. Was the buzzard bringing in another load of warriors? The damn flying Bug could drop a load of trouble down right on top of them. Then he saw the massive creature flying in the direction of the roadway just above the rooftops.

  “Get ready to move!” Vanlanding yelled to the squad. Quantrill and the others were about to break for cover when they heard another sound. A high pitched shriek – the kind of sound that could only be made by a pulse-rocket motor.

  “Fast movers!” Jabara cheered. Sure enough, the thin, triangular shape of an attack fighter streaked into view. Lieutenant Hardaway had convinced Captain Podkayne to deploy one of his precious close attack fighters! It would make short work of the flying Bug.

  Less than half a second after rocketing into view, the fighter let loose a pair of air to air missiles at the buzzard. They exploded against the side of the huge creature with a dull crunch and the fighter pulled up and streaked away. The buzzard was critically wounded. It’s thick, heavy carapace was fractured and nearly broken in half. The injured creature rolled to one side and lost altitude rapidly.

  The men cheered the destruction of the fearful thing at first. After a second, however, they realized the dying buzzard was heading straight for them. It was going to crash in the road right in front of them!

  “Run!” Vanlanding shrieked. “Run, you bastards!”

  The squad bolted in every direction. They emptied the street in seconds but kept on running. Buzzards had the ability to travel through hyperspace. Nobody really knew how, but scientists guessed they had some kind of organ that was able to generate hyperspace fields the same way the massive engines on starships did. They also guessed the creature’s death caused this organ to spasm or misfire randomly. It was like a chicken running around with its head cut off – only tearing apart the fabric of space and time.

  Whatever the explanation, one thing was certain: the only thing more dangerous than a live buzzard was a dead one. The creatures’ death rattle included a violent implosion, pulling the Bug and everything for 50 meters into a transdimensional vortex. Quantrill had never seen an event like that in person, but Marines came across the results often enough. The absolute totality of destruction left quite an impression. If a buzzard was about to die you made damn sure to vacate the area with maximum speed.

  Quantrill ran as fast as he could push his tired muscles to move. He thought he had gone at least 50 meters but didn’t let up his pace. He didn’t even look back over his shoulder for fear it would slow him down. Then a sudden gust of wind hit him in the face and knocked him to the ground.

  “What the fuck?” he mumbled as he rolled over and climbed onto his feet again. Not five meters behind him the ground, which had been straight and level, now dropped off like a cliff. He slowly walked to the edge and looked down into a bowl shaped crater at least 10 stories deep. The hole was perfectly round and the edge was as neat and precise as if it had been cut with a laser mining rig. There was no debris or burn marks or shrapnel. Anything outside the event radius was undamaged. Anything inside that radius was simply gone.

  A million tons of rock and soil vanished in an instant. Whole buildings disappeared. Along the edge some buildings were split in two and displayed their insides like a kid’s doll house. And the squad? Did everyone get out in time? Quantrill barely made it to the outer limit. Someone could have easily been inside the blast radius when the Bug went down.

  “Squad, count off,” Vanlanding ordered over the radio.

  “Jabara, here.”

  “Quantrill, here.”

  “Potter, here.”

  One by one the squad answered the call. Everyone was still online! They were scattered all over the neighborhood, but they were all alive. With relief, Quantrill skirted around the edge of the giant crater and the squad rendezvoused at the far edge, where the main road disappeared into the hole. Slowly the Marines dragged themselves to the rendezvous point and hunkered down on the roadway. They all looked wiped out. Jordan didn’t even have his rifle.

  “Private Jordan,” Vanlanding lectured. “Where is your service weapon?”

  “I … uhh … sort of dropped it,” Jordan said sheepishly.

  “Smooth move, rookie,” Potter teased.

  “Here,” Jabara swung his heavy SAW around and dropped it into Jordan’s arms. “Take mine.”

  “Uhh … thanks,” Jordan looked around in confusion and tried to get a grip on the heavy machine gun.

  “But rookie,” the big Marine said with authority. “I’m gonna want that back.”

  “All right,” Vanlanding told them. “Enough lollygagging. We have to hoof it back to the town square and backup the rest of the platoon.”

  “Aw, fuck me,” Jabara groused. Quantrill could sympathize. They had been on the move since hitting the dirt on this oven of a planet. His legs felt like they were made of jelly. On the other hand, Lieutenant Hardaway and the platoon needed them.

  “Embrace the suck,” Quantrill said wryly. He pushed himself onto his feet and slapped a fresh magazine into his AR316. The rest of the squad followed suit and soon they were on the move again. The men even managed to dig deep and find the fortitude to double time it. Ten minutes later they could hear the rattle of automatic rifle fire in the distance.

  “The LT wants us on top of that building,” Vanlanding announced and pointed to a five story brick building just ahead.

  “Oh good. Stairs,” Quantrill remarked with obvious sarcasm.

  Jabara was the first to reach the building. He had apparently learned his lesson about falling behind. It probably didn’t hurt that Jordan was still carrying his 10 kilo SAW either. The building was some sort of government office. It had wide, glass entry doors, but when Jabara yanked on the handles the doors wouldn’t budge.

  Jordan was right behind, so Jabara reclaimed his heavy machine gun and jabbed the butt of the weapon through the plate glass doorway. The glass shattered into tiny, jagged nuggets of glittering crystal and spilled all across the ground. “Was the door locked?” Vanlanding asked when he caught up.

  “No, I just didn’t feel like holding the door for you all,” Jabara shot back.

  “Whatever,” the corporal replied. “Go find the stairs. Potter, Quantrill, secure the lobby.”

  “Will do,” Quantrill agreed. He breezed by Vanlanding and into the building, leading with his AR316. His boots crunched over the broken glass. He went right and Potter went left. The two Marines verified that the lobby was abandoned, then called in. “Lobby secure,” Quantrill said over the squad channel.

  The building had an elevator – which wasn’t running of course – so the stairs were hidden away in a corner. Once Jabara found them the squad charged up the stairs. The air became progressively hotter and more stifling the higher they climbed. Finally they reached the top. Vanlanding banged on a heavy, steel utility door at the stop of the stairs but it was stuck tight.

  The corporal pulled out a grenade, dialed the yield down to 1, and balanced the explosive on the knob of the door. “Fire in the hole!” he yelled and rushed back down the stairs.

  The squad crouched down on the floor below and waited. In seconds an explosion ripped through the stairwell. They ran back up and found the doorway barely hanging on one hinge and bowed out like a mangled potato chip. It was decidedly open.

  When Quantrill made it to the roof he took a deep breath of the fresh air and then ran to the edge to look down. Both platoons were pinned down in the town square. As they watched, a detachment of Formids rus
hed at the Marine’s defenses. The Bugs were stopped by heavy fire and retreated to regroup.

  “What the hell are they doing?” Jabara remarked absently.

  “Did those Bugs just … retreat?” Quantrill put in.

  “Coulnd’t be,” Jabara insisted. At yet the fact remained, the Bugs broke off their attack.

  “Nevermind that,” Vanlanding growled. “We’re not here to sit down with the Bugs and talk about our feelings. Pick a target and open fire!”

  Quantrill was the first to shoot. He aimed for a spot just below one of the giant spider creatures and fired. He saw his five round burst glance off the carapace of the Formid, but the beast didn’t fall. Instead it turned and charged at their building. All around, the rest of the squad kicked up dirt and brick dust, but no one was able to drop a Bug. They were too far off. Soon the whole herd was charging toward their position.

  “Well that was a great idea,” Jabara grumbled in between firing bursts into the attacking Formids.

  Soon the leading Bugs reached the edge of the building. The Bugs didn’t stop there, though. Without breaking stride they gripped the sheer, brick wall with their multiple legs and started climbing. The Formids raced up the wall almost as fast as they ran over level ground! They were getting closer, but they were also getting easier to kill. Jabara iced the lead Bug with a roaring blast from his SAW. The monstrous thing dropped from a height of more than two stories and fell into the crowd of attacking Bugs.

  “Nice shot!” Quantrill enthused. “Two for one!”

  “Fuckin’ A!” Jabara agreed and went back to firing.

  Seeing the Bug drop gave Quantrill an idea. Maybe they could use gravity to their advantage. He held his fire and waited until a Bug was nearly at the top of the wall. Then he fired several carefully aimed bursts into its front legs. The front four legs dropped away from the wall and the massive torso of the Formid leaned back precariously. The rear legs didn’t have enough grip to hold the thing up on their own, so it broke loose and fell. It collided with a second Bug climbing up right behind and both dropped to the ground with an angry crunch.

  “Show off!” Jabara yelled.

  “You’re just jealous,” Quantrill said under his breath and looked for another target. He was about to open fire when movement in the town square down below caught his eye. A Marine in battle armor was charging out of the defensive perimeter. Even from that distance, Quantrill knew it was Lieutenant Hardaway – who else could it be? Hardaway charged at the Formids like an avenging angel dealing death to all who got in his way. Two or three steps behind him followed the rest of the platoon.

  “Oorah!” Quantrill yelled. “Give ‘em hell!” The platoon opened fire on the Bugs at the base of the building. Half of the Formids turned and tried to counter attack, but were mowed down by the charging Marines. The other half continued to assault the wall, but were easily picked off as they climbed. Within minutes, the battle was over.

  Hardaway kept Quantrill and the rest of Vanlanding’s platoon on the roof to scout for any residual Formid activity. Quantrill found a comfortable spot along the edge of the building and sat down to watch the town below. He was glad to give his aching feet a rest.

  Ordinarily posting a lookout after a battle was just a formality – dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s. Nobody actually expected Formids to show up. It had been a crazy, day, though. They had seen the Bugs doing some far out shit. Things that Bugs just never did. It was scary to think about. Quantrill was sitting on his ass, but his eyeballs – and his brain – were working overtime.

  The Formids were a damn nightmare as it was. They were tougher than hell and nobody knew how many of them were out there. Millions? Billions? If they were learning to outsmart humans what could that mean? Would they be overrun? The whole thing gave Quantrill a sinking feeling in his gut. Not just afraid for himself – he was used to that fear; he was afraid for the human race.

  Soon a bird from Jericho came down and landed in the main road near the town square. The third platoon loaded up. The men looked beaten and worn like they’d been through hell and back twice. They carried quite a few stretchers onto the lander, too. Third platoon had really been in some shit. Were there just too many Bugs for them to handle? Or had Captain Wakefield pulled some boneheaded plays? For about the hundredth time Quantrill thanked any God who might exist that he ended up in Hardaway’s platoon.

  “You’re welcome!” Jabara yelled at the bird as it rocketed away with third platoon inside. “Fuckers.”

  Eventually it was obvious that the Bugs really were all dead. The squad was called down from the roof and the all clear signal blared out from the public address system. They followed Vanlanding down the five long flights of stairs to the lobby. It was a relief that the battle was over, but the Marines were all too exhausted to joke around among themselves like they normally would. Instead the men limped along in silence.

  In the lobby the silence was broken by a loud screech and movement at one end of the building. The squad rushed forward with weapons drawn.

  “Wait,” a voice called out. “Don’t shoot! We’re coming out.” A short, chubby man in a rumpled suit emerged from behind a thick steel door. He blinked against the bright light and smiled weakly. The colonists were coming out of their shelters.

  “I’m Governor Shields,” the man introduced himself. “Is it safe?”

  “Sure, come on out,” Jabara replied cheerfully. “We went and killed off all the bad guys.”

  The chubby man was soon joined by others. There were government types in formal suits and a few ordinary citizens who had apparently been in the area when the alarm sounded. “Has there been much,” the governor eyed the broken glass warily, “damage?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Quantrill said in mock apology. “We tried to avoid breaking things but thought it was more important to save your fucking lives.”

  “Maybe!” Vanlanding cut in. “Maybe I should take you to our commanding officer. Right this way, Governor.”

  “Yes. Yes, thank you,” the dazed looking governor agreed. He followed the corporal out of the building.

  More colonists continued to emerge from the shelter. There were grubby looking miners, uniformed maintenance workers, a few men in pale blue medical scrubs. All sorts. Then there was the one thing they never expected – a girl!

  She was tiny and adorable. She was probably just a few years younger than Quantrill and the other Marines – maybe even a teenager if such things still existed. She was dressed in a conservative, long dress but her narrow waist and the barest hint of her young breasts were just visible under all the shapeless fabric.

  “Why, hello there, Miss,” Jabara jumped to attention. He pulled off his helmet and held it at his side like a fine gentleman in some antique romance stream. “Have no fear. We’ve secured the area, so you are completely safe.”

  The girl didn’t say a word but looked up at the big Marine through her long lashes and flashed a shy smile.

  “I’m Jim Jabara. My friends call me Jabby. What’s your name?” Jabara went on with a toothy grin. Quantrill rolled his eyes. Jabby was playing it to the hilt.

  “Don’t encourage them!” an older man grumbled. He caught up to the girl and grabbed her by the wrist to drag her away from the Marines. “You should be ashamed, young lady.”

  The girl looked back over her shoulder and offered another shy smile, but allowed herself to be led away. She seemed to put a bit more swing in her hips than absolutely necessary, though. At least, it looked that way to Quantrill. He imagined it might be for their benefit. At least someone was grateful on this damn planet.

  “I hate to see her go,” Jabara said softly. “But I love to watch her leave.”

  “No kidding,” Quantrill agreed.

  “Fucking assholes,” Jabara complained. “They’re even worse in the colonies than back on Earth. Practically keep their daughters on leashes out here.”

  “Shhh,” Quantrill admonished. Jabara could not afford to be overh
eard criticizing the social structure. He was on thin ice as it was.

  “Don’t shush me, you little shit.”

  “Then shut the fuck up, moron,” Quantrill shot back, an irritated edge to his voice.

  “What are you two going on about?” Vanlanding called from across the lobby. Shit! Vanlanding was the last person you wanted to say anything subversive in front of. He actually believed in all the Alliance rules.

  “I was just telling Q here,” Jabara said with a glance at Quantrill, “that the fine young woman we just saw was not quite as fine as he was himself. On the PinkVector, that is.”

  “God. Not that again.” Quantrill rolled his eyes.

  “There was a woman?” Vanlanding said with interest. He scanned the crowd filing out of the shelter eagerly.

  “Yeah, but Jabara scared her off,” Quantrill replied.

  “Darn. Anyway,” Vanlanding went on. “We’re lifting off in fifteen. Another bird is on the way.”

  “Nice,” Jabara and Quantrill said in unison. Quantrill was looking forward to a cold shower and some rack time back on the Jericho.

  They shuffled out of the building and saw the platoon loading a lander in the main road. Lieutenant Hardaway was outside the bird, supervising the men slowly marching up the loading ramp. Jabara and Vanlanding made their way inside and Quantrill was alone with the Lieutenant.

  He told himself to just leave the Lieutenant alone and get on the bird. Don’t bother the man. He had other things to do than talk to every grunt. When he walked past Hardaway, however, he spoke without thinking. “Sir?” he said.

  “Yeah?” Hardaway turned his intense eyes on Quantrill. The young private felt his insides liquefy and heat up. Hardaway’s expression was hard, as always. The man habitually wore a look on his face as if he had just eaten something bitter and was too tough to spit it out. It was intimidating.

  “The Formids, sir,” Quantrill went on. “Are they … are they getting smarter?”

  Hardaway’s expression softened. He nodded. “They’re learning. That much is obvious.” He put a hand on Quantrill’s shoulder. “But don’t worry. We’re learning, too.”