Founding of the Federation 3: The First AI War (32 page)

“Then they have a lot to unlearn. Fighting on the ground is not as easy as some think,” the Mars Federal Investigation assistant director stated. “We shall not need police work.”

Roman snorted. Choji wasn't about to admit his error, not that he expected him to. They had a history; he knew the MFI top to bottom. They both knew where many of each other's bodies were buried. In some cases literally. “I know. So we focus on survival, search and rescue, and fighting.”

“The most on fighting and survival I am afraid. By the time they arrive, very few who are trapped will be alive if any.”

“I know,” Roman said sadly. He looked away as the troops unloaded and formed themselves up into a gaggle. They were aligned by species he noted. The individuals that seemed to be on their own stood out, on the outskirts of the group. “Are the facilities ready?” he asked as the wind picked up. Mars was far from a shirt-sleeve environment. It was bitter cold at night. In some ways it was a perfect training ground for the group, the new military, whatever they ended up calling it.

“Indeed. It is rough, but we will make do. We will learn from them. In some ways the teachers will be learning as much as the students,” Choji stated in a bass voice.

“Agreed,” Roman said. “And these will go on to teach others,” he said as Choji's volunteers joined his security volunteers.

<>V<>

Unlike the others, Doctor Harper Collins knew what they were most likely getting into. He'd been a big fan of post apocalyptic games for over two decades. He'd been sobered by how a nuclear winter would devastate a planet. It would definitely put global warming in check with the soot in the air and plunging temperatures. From what he'd heard, over four hundred nuclear weapons, most in the five- to ten-megaton range had gone off on the planet. That would have wrung the planet like a bell causing earthquakes worldwide.

The massive firestorms would have burned off a lot of the ozone as well. Which meant anyone outside would be in for a shock despite the cloud cover. Without the ozone the survivors would be vulnerable to ultraviolet radiation from the sun. All sorts of nasty skin cancers would start to crop up on people, even those who had been far from any sort of fallout.

He was one of the rare people in the group—a Neochimp doctor, not a security guard. He had immediately stepped up because he had to help. He couldn't sit back in his nice warm office and let others die. He couldn't live with the dreams and nightmares that would instill in his psyche.

He sniffed as he looked from the dogs to the Walrus to the cat. He recognized a few of them—Ace for instance, the Doberman who had put himself in charge of his canine brothers and sisters. He nodded to Ace, but the dog didn't return the nod, just looked away. Duncan looked his way, flicked his ears, and then twitched his tail. Harper smiled ever so slightly and went back to surveying the rest of the group.

James was a good guy but weird. He was born a human but to change oneself like that? He shook his head slightly. Still, it might come in handy, Harper mused.

There had been four shuttle flights landing at the same time for a total of one hundred and sixteen people. Seventy of their number were human. There were thirty-six apes counting himself, he noted, counting noses and body types. Most were chimps, but there were six male gorillas. He only saw the one orangutan. He was fairly confident that most of the apes were males like himself. In fact … his eyes surveyed the group again, checking them. Yep, he thought, there were a total of twenty girls in the group; the rest were all guys. Apparently the ladies who had stayed behind knew something he didn't.

Another hundred locals were there, milling about insolently, studying their spacer counterparts and making cracks about them just loud enough for a few of the sharp-eared spacers to overhear. Ace growled softly, eying the humans. Harper looked them over too but then looked away. Just about all of the Martians were humans of one genotype or another. A few were chimeras like James but not many.

Harper's eyes surveyed the Lagroose spacers once more. He finally saw a hand wave and locked onto the signal and then traced the hello wave down to see Paul Branson's familiar face. That made the Neochimp crack a smile in return. At least he had another familiar face in the group, a beer buddy. He nodded to him. The human nodded back, then went back to chatting with the bored looking redhead standing next to him.

Harper snorted. Trust Paul to hit on any lady nearby. And … he shot Paul another look just in time to see the red head sniff and move slightly away. Trust Paul to strike out too. Typical. The Earth was in the shitter, and Paul only thought with his second head. Typical Paul.

He shook his head until he felt a sharp elbow in his side. He looked up to see another familiar face, Dau 'chickadee' Mauer. “Hey, gal pal,” he said, face splitting in a welcoming smile.

“Hey to you too, Doc. I didn't think you were up for this,” she said, indicating the troop. “I mean, running around getting shot at isn't your thing,” she said, taking her earrings off.

Harper blinked. “You really think we're going to get shot at?” he asked, brown eyes wide.

Dau shot him a pitying look. “What do you think?”

Harper felt a bit of a sinking sensation. “I thought I was going to be too busy patching people up to have to deal with that. Can't people get along?”

“It's not the people we have to worry about. Or at least not just them, Doc,” she said, clasping his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “It's the bots.”

“Oh. Yeah. But won't the EMP take most of them out?”

“Don't count on it, Doc. Just remember to duck, okay?” she said, looking at him again. He nodded as he looked away. He bit his lip. Maybe being a hero wasn't all that it was cracked up to be after all.

<>V<>

Ace wasn't impressed with the group. There were a lot of people there, many humans. Most seemed undisciplined despite their training in security. He kept his canines in line; he lined them up on the line and growled to keep them there. A few whined, ears back but he ignored it. “Eyes front,” he growled as the two humans came over to them. One he knew, the pack leader Roman. The other was big and round, but his scent was unfamiliar.

“On the line,” Roman said in a voice that cut through the chatter. Feet moved as they lined up on the line. “Move, people! We don't have all day! This is grade school shit kiddies!” Roman growled. They got on the line, jostling each other. Those that went to jostle a dog got growled at. A brief show of teeth got them to find another place to stand.

“You all know why we're here, so I'll save you the speeches. We need to get sorted out fast. That means breaking down your expectations, showing you what we think you'll need to know, then making sure you can do the job before we send you out,” Roman said, pacing the line. Expert eyes seemed to be judging them, testing them, testing their will.

“This isn't going to be easy, nor is Earth. Some of you will go there; some will stay here to train the next batch that sign up. Get over your expectations; get over your ego. We're here to do a mission. Lives are on the line. Some of them your own.”

“So much for no speeches,” someone muttered. Roman stopped, turned, and seemed to look for the voice. That got everyone to stand at what they approximated as attention.

“Fine then. We'll cut to the chase. Grab your gear and haul ass to the barracks Assistant Director Asazi was ever so kind as to set up for us,” Roman said, pointing his arm and finger to the distant buildings. “I expect all of you there within the next hour, all of you. Move!” He snarled.

The dogs were first off the line. They had little gear. Ace took charge, getting them to help each other get their packs on, then move out. Since they moved on all fours they quickly left the slow two-legs behind.

“That's showing them,” Hooch said with a bark of a laugh. Copper howled in amused agreement.

“Quiet!” Ace growled, looking back. He could see the Dalmatian medic struggling. “Hooch help Duncan. The rest of you ….” He stopped talking when Copper nearly tripped over his own ears. “Watch where you step, Copper, or I'll dock those damn ears!” Ace snarled. The bloodhound whined. “Keep moving,” Ace growled.

Something told him it was going to be a long difficult day.

“Who put you in charge, Ace?” Chance demanded. Petey nodded in agreement. Caffall nudged Chance in the shoulder to mind his manners.

“Someone has to be,” Ace panted. “Someone has to know what to do. Get over yourself,” he said.

<>V<>

“Now,” Roman said. He hadn't expected the dogs to move out so quickly, so his timing was off. When the explosions went off, well off to the side of their path but close enough to shock and terrorize them, they scattered.

<>V<>

Ace took cover with the others when the loud bang went off. He looked up, and then winced as bits of dirt hit him. “What the hell was that?” Hooch demanded.

“A training round,” Ace replied. He glared in Roman's direction. He looked around to make sure everyone was okay. Copper had wet himself. He snorted and then coughed. He turned about; his count was off. It took him a moment to figure out who was missing. “Where is Chance?” he demanded.

McGruff sniffed the air and then pointed a hand paw to a nearby drainage ditch. “There.”

Ace padded over and then leaned in. His eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly. Hooch got in his light, so he turned and gave him a dirty look. “Sorry,” Hooch mumbled, moving away.

When Ace saw the pit bull, he snorted. Chance was flat on the bottom of the ditch with his paws covering his ears, eyes scrunched tight.

“So much for being a fearless leader,” Ace growled, amused. He went over and sat down next do the dog. After a moment he flicked the other dog on the nose.

“Ow, my nose!” Chance said, rubbing it furiously. “What was that for?” he demanded, slowly rising.

“Get up and get moving,” Ace said, putting words to action.

“I … okay,” Chance said, brushing past him. After a moment he thought better of taking point and slowed his pace.

“Copper, McGruff, take the lead. Take turns. Sniff the sides of the trail; let us know if you smell anymore surprises,” Ace ordered. The rest of you, form up behind them. Hooch, help the doc.”

“Right,” Hooch said. Ace nodded. He doubted he'd have any more dominance issues. He turned back to the two-legs. In their little stop, they'd lost some ground but not a lot. He turned back. “Move it, mutts!” he growled.

“Ace has them in line. He's good,” Roman observed.

“I didn't know there were smart dogs too,” Choji said, eying them. “They can be very useful in some ways. As scouts I suppose,” he said.

“Probably,” Roman agreed. “We'll keep them as a squad for the moment. They've definitely got the most discipline and mobility.”

“Agreed,” Choji stated. “But they aren't our best fighters.”

“No,” Roman said, looking at the others. The walrus was naturally dead last. He didn't envy Tumagar. He wasn't certain why the panting selkie had signed up, but he wasn't going to stand in his way. He was going to have to retool some of the syllabus, customize it for the walrus somewhat. Otherwise, they would lose him.

Something told him they'd need his skills more in the water than on land anyway.

<>V<>

James was a bit put out over how fast the dogs outpaced everyone. His pack was rigged for him to walk on his hind legs, not on all fours. He should have thought of that, he thought. An ounce of preparation … no, wait, prior planning? He shook the distracting thought aside as he moved.

Some of the humans were runners, so they outpaced the group easily. But when the explosion off to the side went off, they stopped. Only when the dogs resumed did they follow … albeit at a much slower, more wary pace.

“Keep an eye on the dogs. Watch them,” James panted.

A black haired human looked at him. “What?”

“They are scouting for us. See how they all veer off to one side?” the cat said, pointing. Ace had the dogs on the trail but going single file while two big bloodhounds pointed their noses at something off to the side.

“Wish they'd go in and take it out. Whatever it is. What is this anyway, a prank? And why does the path zig zag so much? Why not a straight shot?” the guy bitched.

“It's training. They want us to expect trouble. To watch out for it,” James answered. He now had a wary eye out for trouble. He was trying not to take anything for granted.

He was very much aware that his enhanced vision and hearing were now as much a good thing as they were a potential handicap. Those mortar shells had one hell of a din. His ears still rang, and he'd been at least a hundred meters away. He didn't envy the mutts who had been close to them. Not at all.

But that awareness had made him think of other issues. On the battlefield his hearing could help or hurt him as would his vision. He had keen eyes and good night vision. But he was now aware of how vulnerable his vision was to a flashbang or other distraction.

It annoyed him in some ways. He'd learned it all in security camp years ago. Apparently he'd forgotten it despite the yearly refreshers he'd taken.

“Well, I'm cross-trained on a lot of jobs. I hope they don't expect me to use my bomb detection and disposal training,” the guy said.