Rebellion Ebook Full (14 page)

I stood there, and it rained death upon me. I’d never seen the like of it, and the sight made my stomach roil. I used the pain of it, the sad horror of it, to deepen my hatred for the Macros.

For I had no doubt that if they had pleasure centers in their metal brains, they were humming with happiness right now.

-15-

“Macro Command, this is Kyle Riggs.”

Nothing. I fiddled with the touch screen and tried again. “Macro Command, do you read me—”

“Yes.”

“We have completed our mission. We are returning to the invasion ship.”

“The structure still operates.”

“Yes,” I said, my voice threatening to rise into a shout. “But the people inside are dead. Are you happy?”

They didn’t answer. I breathed through my teeth and closed my eyes. I’d put a word like
happy
into a
question
. That was two strikes as far as the Macros were concerned.

“We have completed our mission,” I said as evenly as I could. I tried not to think about the geyser of bodies and warm gasses that still shot out of the hole I’d blown into an idyllic sky. “We are returning to the invasion ship.”

“The structure still operates.”

“We do not have any armament to destroy the structure. We are ground forces carrying light arms. We have completed the mission as required.”

They paused again. I wondered if I was going to be required to send this entire station—with any survivors huddling inside—burning and sinking down into the atmosphere of the planet below us. I didn’t think I could do that.

“Return to base.”

That was it. They didn’t tell me ‘good job’, nor did they chortle and giggle at my foolishness. I was a good tool, but they didn’t care about me. A carpenter was more likely to feel love for his hammer. They simply put me away in a drawer or dropped me in the dirt until I was needed again.

I got aboard Lieutenant Marquis’ assault ship and ordered my dish-flying troops to aim themselves at the invasion ship. Everyone was to stay together, not to string out or fool around. The injured were allowed to board the assault ships, but I wanted most of my men free and open to maneuver.

We took off and headed toward home—such as it was. I wondered if the Macros had any idea what I intended. I certainly hoped not.

The first few thousand miles went smoothly. I still hadn’t told my troops anything about a planned rebellion. There hadn’t been time, and I hadn’t wanted to leak anything on an open channel.

As the curvature of the planet swept by underneath us, I marveled at its austere beauty. The mountains rose up so high they seemed like spikes. The ice dominated the upper and lower quarters of the planet, making the polar icecaps huge. Nowhere on this cool world was completely free of ice and snow. All the way down to the equator the top of every glacier-carved mountain was crusted in white.

It was the last thousand miles to the invasion ship when things went badly. We were forced to turn around then, to brake and slow our approach. We were moving at high speed and would be smashed like bugs against the hull if we didn’t slow down.

The Macros picked that moment to act. Maybe they’d overheard us plotting, even though I had been careful to use scrambled channels for every communication. Maybe they’d planned it this way all along, intending to destroy us in an effort to keep the peace with the Centaurs. Another possibility was they had decided we were a failed experiment and it was time to dump the Petri dish into the sink. I’m not sure why they turned their guns on us—but they did.

The cruiser gave us the first hint of what was coming. It rotated itself onto its back, in respect to the planet we all orbited. The big belly cannon poked upward now and swiveled in our direction. The dark, ugly snout of it brightened as it prepared to fire. Fortunately, my people were watching the ship carefully. They shouted the alarm, and everyone took whatever evasive action they could. I gave the
go
signal, and I knew the marines left in the bricks in the invasion ship’s hold were moving.

My original plan had been to order the assault ships to veer off at the last moment, targeting the cruiser instead of the yawning hold doors on the invasion ship. We needed the drilling lasers on the assault ships to burn their way through the cruiser’s hull. We felt confident we could take out the small crew of the invasion ship without too much trouble, but the cruiser was another matter. It was a real warship, and we knew next to nothing about its crew, internal layout or armament. The good news was that it was close to the invasion ship it was escorting, less than two miles distant.

The big cannon flared and gouted brilliant light. I had thought I might talk Macro Command out of this, but when the belly cannon fired, I knew the game was up.

One of my four surviving assault ships bloomed into a fireball. There wasn’t even a ship there anymore. Nothing could have survived.

“All marines, this is your commander, Colonel Riggs,” I shouted into my com-link, broadcasting and overriding everyone’s helmet audio input. “We’ve all been thinking about a change of direction, and apparently the Macros have been too. They are firing on us, and you are hereby ordered to destroy every Macro you can.”

I quickly worked my com system to link me up with the surviving assault ship pilots. I could see the muzzle of the cruiser’s big cannon glowing brighter again. In seconds, it would fire again. I could tell no amount of jinking and dodging would suffice. “Pilots, I’m ordering you all to abandon your ships. Everyone must grab a dish and bail out. I don’t care if they are on life support, put a helmet on them and push them out the back door!”

I followed my own orders then, grabbing an unconscious marine by the boots and dragging him after me. IV bags rattled and flopped behind him. We fell out of the rear doors as they spread open and allowed us to drift into space. Others fell with me. I saw Kwon dragging an extra dish behind him. No doubt, he intended to give it to Lieutenant Marquis after she bailed out.

My visor darkened to an opaque state as the belly cannon fired upon us. My visor’s efforts were insufficient. Light leaked in, so bright it gave me afterimages and an instant headache. Just as my vision returned, vapor washed over me and I heard a roaring sound. I realized our assault ship must have been the second on the target list. It had been blown to atoms.

Spinning and disoriented, I almost lost my dish. Only the emergency magnetics in my boots and the nanite tethers kept me from being fired out into space on a random trajectory. The marine I’d dragged out with me wasn’t in easy reach. I had to let him go, figuring we could try to pick him up later—if we survived.

I zoomed in with my visor on the cruiser. The gun was prepping again. I knew it would take out all four of my assault ships. I had only a few tricks left.

I gained control of my spin and had the dish under my feet and operating again. I applied thrust, braking so I wouldn’t smash into the invasion ship. “All assault companies,” I said, trying to sound calm. “Redirect yourselves toward the cruiser. Troops aboard the invasion ship, injured or not, start taking out the Macro crew. Work your way to the control center, you will find it located near the engines, behind the hold.”

I was flooded with bleeping contact requests. I ignored them all. Everyone had problems, but we all had only minutes left in which to live, and they would have to solve them on their own. I opened a direct channel to Major Kurt Welter, who had flown the rescue mission to pick up my lost marines back at the ring. He had the last assault ship, and it was sitting in the hold of the invasion ship.

“Major Welter?”

“Sir?”

“I need your attention, Major.”

“They are coming into the hold, sir. The spidery-types—their marines. We are in a firefight right on top of our own bricks.”

“I need your attention, Major. Disengage from the enemy and get to your ship.”

Silence for several seconds. I was about to repeat the order, when his voice came back on. “I’ve disengaged, sir. Moving toward my assault ship, but I’m under fire.”

“Do not get hit, Major. That is an order.”

“Uh, doing my best, Colonel.”

“We need your assault ship out here. My men will mass on the cruiser like ants. We can take out the big gun I think, but we can’t get inside. You will fly your assault ship out of the invasion ship’s hold and approach the cruiser once we’d knocked out the belly turret. Do you understand, Major?”

“Yes sir, but there is a problem. The enemy has closed the hold doors. I can’t get out.”

I closed my eyes in frustration. Things were spinning out of control. My surprise attack had turned into
their
surprise attack. I thought about the mines I’d left the factory bricks manufacturing. They could use one to blow out the doors, but I was pretty sure the concussion in the enclosed space would kill all my marines, defeating the purpose.

“All right, Major. I will think of something. Keep that assault ship intact. Worst case, you can use the beam cannon to burn your way out of the hull. Stay alive, protect your ship and let my marines take the invasion ship.”

“Roger sir.”

Another of the assault ships exploded off to my left. All around me, more than a thousand marines flew past the invasion ship and toward the cruiser, which loomed with sickening speed. I knew I was going too fast, and applied more braking power. It was going to be a rough landing.

-16-

Like everyone else out there, I came in a little too fast. It was indescribably tempting to overdo my approach speed as I watched the huge cannon swivel, fire and kill two or three clumped marines with every burst. You could see it coming, aiming for you. It reached out like the hand of God and removed men from existence with unfeeling precision. The desire to turn off the braking thrust entirely, and thus get past this deadly, unpredictable menace, was intense.

Some of my marines fell prey to the temptation. They streaked toward the cruiser, then applied maximum thrust. Some pulled it off, knees buckling, shivering from the stresses, but managing to control their tiny dishes enough to slow them down. Others were not so skilled. They tipped, overcompensated and flew into deadly spins that resulted in splattered marines on the dark hull of the cruiser. Like bugs hitting a windshield, dozens of my finest ended their lives that way, howling in my headset during their final seconds.

I cursed myself for not having had more time for training. My marines were experts at a dozen combat exercises, but we were all new to these flying toys. They were inherently dangerous—like sleds with rocket engines attached. I had known my men weren’t really ready to operate them under the stresses of combat, but there had been nothing I could do about it, we just hadn’t had much time to train with them.

The survivors, about eight hundred of them, landed upon the curved hull of the cruiser. We crawled over it on our bellies like beetles.

“Kwon? Get over here,” I said.

One of the biggest beetles scuttled over, eager to obey. I saw him dragging his dish.

“Tell everyone to tether their transports to the cruiser hull. We’ll come back for them later.”

Kwon relayed the order, while I dragged myself toward the belly turret. It was still rotating around, almost silent in space. I could feel the rumble of its motion through my hands and feet where they contacted the cruiser’s hull. Such vibrations were the only sounds you sensed in open space. They felt more like tickling sensations than sounds. I could hear the turret in my bones as it sought a target, but we were too close to the hull to hit, underneath its field of fire.

How long, I wondered, until it turned its muzzle toward the invasion ship? I had no doubt the Macros would blow away their own ship if we captured it. We were a disease and ruthless amputation was every Macro doctor’s favorite technique. The moment they knew my men were going to capture the invasion ship, they would destroy it if they could. I had no doubt of this. We were under tight time pressure. Unfortunately, with this ticking clock I didn’t even know how long we had.

“How do we take this thing out, Kwon?” I asked. “Do we have any charges?”

“No sir, what little we had in the way of explosives and heavy weapons went down with the assault ships.”

I thought of Major Welter and his final assault ship. Should I order him to burn his way out of the hold and fly over here to take out this belly turret? I figured I could tell him to fly between the invasion ship and the cruiser on a precise line. That way, if the cruiser dared to fire it would hit both the assault ship and the invasion ship behind it. I shook my head in my helmet, causing sweat droplets to fly onto the visor and flatten there. There was no gravity to drag even a droplet of water downward.

“No,” I said aloud. I needed Welter to burn a hole in this hull. To bring him over here now, under the muzzle of this gun, was suicide. I knew how the Macros thought by now. Macro Command
would
fire, I had no doubt of it. They would happily destroy their own ships to rid themselves of us.

It was time to act, and act now. There was no room for niceties. “Men, I want everyone to retreat from the belly cannon. Get around the curve of the hull until you can’t see it anymore. Everyone except for Kwon and I, that is.”