I, Synthorg: Synthorg Marines book 1, page 16
The Scorp reached the other side of the chasm without any issues. The road continued through a thick forest of trees with bulky trunks and thin, leafless branches.
I still didn’t like that. “Scorp One, deploy main gun,” I ordered.
The anti-tank railgun rose above the forest, articulated by a mechanical arm, like the tail of a giant scorpion. This “tail” was also equipped with a Hornet launcher.
It was our Cachalot’s turn to cross. I held my breath as the front wheels came in contact with the bridge.
The Lacerta guide gave me a reptilian smile. “Me—tell you’th. Lacertas’s craft solid’th.”
I could feel the bridge oscillate under the breath of a strong wind. My eyes were fixed on the stress indicator displayed on the control panel of our vehicle. It slowly moved from green to yellow, then ventured into the orange zone.
“We’ll make it,” the pilot said blankly. “With a little luck.”
I received a transmission from our HQ in Tastak, relayed by a military sat. “Multiple signals detected. Converging on your position. Hadar 86%.”
“Full throttle!” I yelled to the pilot. “Now!”
“But—” he protested.
I cut him short. “That’s an order!”
The engine growled and our transport rushed forward. The other side of the chasm was only meters away. I thought I heard a gunshot, but it was the sound of one of the cables of the bridge snapping under the wheels of our Cachalot.
“Skinners, skinners!” our guide shrieked in panic, pointing at the figures that appeared among the trees.
“Hadar confirmed,” I announced on the channel of our convoy. “Scorp One, fire at will. Scorp Two, do not cross—deploy and engage targets of opportunity.”
My mini-map glinted with a swarm of red dots.
The four front wheels of the Cachalot were already on firm ground when an explosion shook the vehicle. We stopped. The cabin started to lean backward.
“Evac!” I yelled.
I thrust the front door open and leapt to the ground. The Gatling railgun mounted on the Scorp whirred without pause, sending a stream of tracers into the woods. Blazing branches and chunks of trunks flew in all directions.
I spotted shadowy figures lurking in the canopy and gliding from one tree to another. The interfemoral membranes gave the Lacertas a clear advantage, as they could reach the best firing positions just by jumping from one tree to the next.
I opened at them with my XK-M60 and took out three hostiles. Targeting their membranes when they glided from one tree to another seemed to be the most effective method of taking them out of action.
From the corner of my eye, I saw that the front wheels of the Cachalot were rising. I glanced back and realized that the vehicle was in an unstable position, its rear half hanging above the chasm. Black smoke coming from under the transport indicated that its engine had probably been hit, and that explained why it wasn’t moving forward.
The comsynts followed procedure and allowed their human partners to disembark first. I covered them. The cannon of the Scorp boomed, and one of the tree trunks exploded into a thousand incandescent pieces of debris.
But the attacking Lacertas didn’t seem intimidated. One of them got close enough to throw something at the tank.
“Scorp One, move!” I yelled.
Too late. The bomb detonated. The severed tail of the Scorp was lifted several meters into the air. The tank caught fire, and the Gatling fell silent.
The Cachalot leaned at a 45-degree angle and could slip into the void at any instant. I heard an avalanche of rocks rushing into the abyss as it slid backward. My squad had evacuated the vehicle by now, save for Kodiak, who was still inside.
“I’m hit,” Kodiak said on our squad channel. “Can’t move my legs.”
I swore inwardly. I couldn’t send the medtech back into the Cachalot to rescue Kodiak. The protocol clearly indicated that losing a bear was preferable to losing the medtech.
But I didn’t want to lose any of my squadmates.
I pulled a nanofiber cable out of my backpack, attached it to the front bumper of the Cachalot, and told my squad to cover me as I sprinted to the Scorp. Bullets cracked all around me, and I had to throw myself to the ground and roll for several meters to avoid being hit. I quickly attached the other end of the cable to the rear bumper of the tank.
The Cachalot was sliding backward, pulling at the cable, and dragging the damaged Scorp with it. I leapt to the side to avoid being crushed by the burning vehicle. A bullet brushed my leg, but bounced off my armor. I realized that I was dangerously exposed.
“Milton, stay in cover!” Lancer shouted. “Whatcha doing, damn you?”
I turned to see Jake jumping into the Cachalot. With a mighty rumble it was swallowed into a cloud of smoke.
The vehicle disappeared into the void.
29. Conquer your fear
I sprinted toward my squad. A bomb exploded a few meters behind me and sprayed me with shrapnel. I didn’t care. I was not about to lose two members of my squad.
The Scorp was pulled toward the chasm; it produced a horrible screeching noise as its bottom scratched the rocks. The cable did not give way, though. Lancer positioned the remaining members of the squad so they could cover me. Red dots died by the dozen on my mini-map, but there were still more and more coming.
Several bullets hit my backpack, and another one bounced off my helmet. I was lucky the hostiles didn’t use high-caliber, armor-piercing rounds.
When I reached the chasm, I saw Jake and Kodiak holding on to the cable. They were slowly descending as the weight of the Cachalot pulled the Scorp toward the void.
Activate flight mode.
A warning flashed in red letters on my HUD: [Flight mode disabled.] My backpack was damaged, and I assumed Kodiak’s was too.
I quickly weighed my options. None of my gadgets would help me to save Jake and Kodiak. I could deploy a zip-line, but it would be of no use in this case given the topography of the canyon and the position of my squadmates. Without flight mode, I couldn’t reach them.
“Jake, activate flight mode,” I ordered.
“Can’t do, sarge,” he yelled. I could see his face through the visor of his helmet; his jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were filled with pain.
“Your backpack isn’t working?” I asked.
“No, it’s working, but… I can’t fly.”
“What’s wrong with you, marine! Flight mode, now—that’s an order!”
“Can’t deploy fans,” he cried.
The wings and the turbofans would probably not deploy so close to a wall of rock.
“You’ll have to trust me, son,” I told him. In reality, I was younger than him, but that didn’t matter. I was older in terms of rank and number of stars. “Let go of the ledge and activate flight mode in freefall.”
“I can’t fly, sarge. I messed up during my first flight exercise. Almost killed a fellow cadet. I just can’t do it!”
I swore inwardly. How did you manage to make it into the space marines then? But I didn’t make that remark out loud. I needed to instill confidence, not undermine Jake’s self-esteem.
“Look at me, Jake. Take a deep breath. You passed all the tests, remember? You’ve been hand-picked to join the most elite unit in the galaxy. You can do this. You will do this!”
The blazing carcass of the Scorp reached the chasm and went over the edge with a rumble. Jake looked me in the eyes, then threw himself toward the abyss.
The Scorp disappeared into darkness. Nothing happened for a long moment. My squadmates were gone.
“We can’t hold on much longer,” Lancer reported.
“Scorp Two, what’s your status?” I asked via the convoy channel.
“Fully deployed and operational,” the tank commander replied. “Awaiting instructions.”
“Suppressive fire, target zone highlighted.” My imps transmitted the coordinates.
“Roger, sergeant. Target zone hot.”
The missile launcher of the Scorp howled as it propelled a score of Hornet mini-missiles. I saw their trails crisscrossing the sky above us as they flew toward their targets. The hostiles responded by sending several rockets into the air. The rockets exploded and took out some of the Hornets. The remaining mini-missiles hit the woods some 50 meters in front of us.
Fire engulfed the trees. Even our CoBA wouldn’t save us from that inferno. On the plus side, the Lacertas couldn’t get through this wall of fire either. Lacerta was not Freya; here, a wildfire would not die out, but rage on until there was nothing left for it to consume.
The red dots were in full retreat.
“Where’re Kodiak and Milton?” Lancer asked.
I sighed. “They didn’t…”
I stopped in mid-sentence as Jake soared from the abyss, with Kodiak hanging on to his boots. His flight was a bit chaotic, but he got the job done. Kodiak let himself fall to the ground, and Jake landed too with a sigh of relief.
“You’re an ace, Milton!” I congratulated him. “I never doubted you would make it!” That was a lie, but the enthusiasm in my voice was convincing, I hoped.
“Cuddly, you’re all right?” Jake examined the nasty wound on Kodiak’s back.
“Cuddly?” the bear boomed. “You’re kidding? Not Cody or Koby? Cuddly?”
Jake grinned at him. “Nah. Cody would be too obvious. The best nickname is the one you don’t like, but that suits you well, Cuddly Bear.”
“Oh, call me whatever you want. Grand job, son.” Kodiak set his huge hand on Jake’s shoulder.
While they were exchanging pleasantries, the medtech was busy treating Kodiak’s wound.
“What’s your prognosis?” I asked the medtech.
“Full functionality can be restored, but we need to operate.”
I gave the following orders: the medtech was to take Kodiak to the remaining Scorp in flight mode and get him to the outpost ASAP, and the rest of the squad was to fly to the friendly Lacerta village.
“Is that prudent?” Lancer challenged me, calling me on my direct channel so the rest of the squad couldn’t hear him. “We don’t know who’s behind this attack.”
“We do, corporal,” I replied. “Just before the attack, our guide called them skinners. I believe he was genuinely terrified. The skinners are a highly organized, ruthless Lacerta criminal organization. They grow and trade narcotics. Their base must be nearby. They’re called skinners because they skin their victims and squeeze every drop of liquid out of their bodies.”
I switched to the squad channel and added, “Be careful, everyone. Lancer is in charge now. Follow his orders to the letter. And no more heroics, understood?”
I gave Jake a stern look. He responded with an apologetic smile. This time, he’d made the right call when he disobeyed orders, but I didn’t want him to make a habit out of it. The kid had to learn discipline.
“Lancer, take our Lacerta guide with you. Remember, protecting civilians is priority.”
“And you, sarge?” Lancer asked me.
“I’ll be fine.”
“What are you—”
“You have your orders, squad,” I said sharply. “I’m going no comms. Good stars to all of you.”
“Good stars, sarge,” they replied in chorus.
All save Jake, who said, “I’m your partner, shouldn’t I come with you?”
I shook my head, killed all comms, and threw myself into the burning forest.
30. Area 42
The drop area, where my Venatici equipment awaited, lit up on my HUD map as I ran through rough, unforgiving terrain. There wasn’t a single gentle curve to appease the eye. The landscape was dominated by the ragged shapes of the spires, an army of giants pointing their pikes toward the sky.
The cooling system of my CoBA had been damaged during the fight with the skinners, and the heat was suffocating. My body had been designed to withstand such harsh conditions, but there was a limit to its endurance.
I reached another chasm. The drop zone was on the other side. I shot a zip-line at the stone wall across the chasm. The other end of the line stuck to a rock behind me. I glanced at the mini-map to double check that there were no hostiles in the area, then let myself slide to the other side of the chasm.
I found the package exactly where it was supposed to be. I got rid of my damaged CoBA and put on the quantum suit. The cooling system kicked on. I took a deep breath and allowed myself to relax for a few seconds.
Still no hostiles in sight or on the map.
I activated the cyclotron thruster and rocketed toward Area 42.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the secret base was located under a crater. Craters left by the impacts of meteors were the only flat surfaces in this province. On the surface, nothing indicated that there was a base below, but even the best-hidden secret entrances couldn’t escape my sensors.
Every human base had at least one ventilation conduit leading to the surface. Area 42 had eight of those. They were so narrow that no human could sneak inside, but that wouldn’t stop me. I launched a spy drone, the smallest in my arsenal. It was undetectable and could sneak anywhere.
The drone infiltrated the base through one of the air vents, navigated to the nearest IT terminal, and plugged itself into it.
First, I downloaded the plans for the base, and all the technical info I could get my hands on. In theory, I could unlock the entrance doors remotely and sneak inside, but an unscheduled activation of the doors would trigger an alarm, and security would investigate.
I had to create a diversion. I activated cloaking, made my way to one of the entrances at the edge of the crater, and positioned myself above the doors.
I launched a dummy drone, a bot made of metastable materials that could take on any shape. When it reached an altitude of about 100 meters above the surface, I activated the 3D projector integrated into the forearm of my suit and created a hologram of a Lacerta flying above the base. Simultaneously, I ordered my drone to decloak.
The illusion was perfect. The security team of the base would pick up my drone on their sensors, and they would see a Lacerta gliding in the sky through the external cams. They would probably do nothing and wait until it was gone.
I wouldn’t give them that option. The holographic Lacerta made a circle in the sky and started its descent toward the hidden entrance.
As I’d expected, the security team was forced to act. A Hornet shot from a concealed missile launcher and raced toward the Lacerta. My dummy bot swerved at the last instant to avoid the Hornet, and the mini-missile exploded a few meters away. My dummy bot spiraled down, imitating an injured Lacerta to perfection. Now I didn’t even need the hologram—the dummy would do the rest.
The doors opened and four Coalition soldiers marched outside. Two of them guarded the door while the two others proceeded to the location where the dummy had fallen to the ground.
I sneaked behind the soldiers and sent a message through the IT terminal my spy drone had accessed: “Exercise completed. Return to base.”
The soldiers shrugged and turned around. They must have been so bored guarding a secret base where nothing ever happened that anything breaking the routine was welcome. Even if they persisted in their investigation, they would find nothing. My dummy had already disappeared into thin air, literally.
I was in the elevator cabin right next to the soldiers, but they didn’t suspect a thing. We traveled far beneath the surface.
I’m golden so far.
The base was designed like an underground factory. As it was heavily automated, sneaking around was easy. I just had to follow the assembly line and avoid the occasional guards, in case they had sensors powerful enough to detect me.
The whirring of machinery grew louder as I approached a large hall. Rows of robotic arms were busy assembling bodies that had a distinctly humanoid shape. Only the head was missing. The bodies, however, were clearly not biomimetic. Unlike mine, theirs were made of titanium nanofibers and composite materials.
What the blast are they building here? An army of robots? In defiance of the Second Treaty of Tarazed?
No one in their sane state of mind would build robots for military purposes. That was prohibited for a good reason. Imagine if a terrorist group managed to hack the robots and turn them against their creators? The risk was simply too high.
I continued my exploration. The next room was dark. From a distance, I could see only rows of faintly glowing receptacles that looked like jars. Upon closer inspection, I realized that they all contained ovoid objects.
I froze, my heart racing wildly.
They’re growing biomimetic brains! Just like mine!
The Coalition was building an army of sentient androids. As andros were individuals, not mere machines, the Second Treaty of Tarazed did not apply to them. I found that even more monstrous.
They will condemn all these sentient beings to life inside a robotic body, and force them to obey the will of their creators.
No wonder the Coalition wanted to keep that under wraps. The android-rights activists would go wild if they learned about the existence of this facility. I doubted the Coalition intended to give citizenship to all these battle andros.
What could I do? Blow up this base?
No, I had a better idea.
I went to the nearest console, hacked it, and analyzed the schematics. The biomimetic brains were definitely Venatici tech, adapted for the needs of the Coalition. I still couldn’t understand how the Coalition would prevent the battle andros from rebelling. Every sentient being is endowed with free will, at least in theory. To my knowledge, it was impossible to program absolute obedience into an andro with a biomimetic brain. Every now and then the news channels reported stories about andros who ran away from their owners.
When I analyzed the data in more detail, I understood what the biotechs of the Coalition were counting on. By projecting a series of images directly into the optic nerves, they insured the artificial soldiers would be totally obedient. That was ruthlessly efficient, like brainwashing a child from a very young age. The andros didn’t stand a chance against such behavioral programming.
