E-Day III: Dark Moon (E-Day Trilogy Book 3), page 10
Boar snorted. “They run with their tails between their legs after they bring the machines here.”
Jackson didn’t exactly agree, but he wasn’t about to pick a fight.
This wasn’t the time or place.
“My scouts are watching the towering machine at the other side of the island,” Boar said. “When it leaves, we’ll launch the shuttle with our families to the moon.”
“You can’t do that–” Godfrey started to say.
“I’m not asking you,” Boar said. “I’m in charge now that your people are dead.”
Godfrey glanced at Jackson. “Not all of them.”
“Look, even if the towering machine, as you call it, leaves, that shuttle won’t make it far without being shot down,” Godfrey said.
Boar pounded the desk with a fist. “I’m not asking you!”
Tumea scratched the back of her head nervously.
“If we don’t leave this place, it will become our tomb,” Boar said. “I would rather die trying to get families out than wait for the machines to tear them apart. Or worse, let them become prisoners.”
Godfrey backed away, clearly intimidated.
“Lieutenant Godfrey’s right,” Jackson said. He wouldn’t let the man bully him into submission. “You launch that shuttle without any air support and it’s going to be turned to ash before it even reaches the clouds.”
Boar walked around the desk, stopping a foot away from Jackson.
“Your words mean nothing,” he said.
Tumea stepped up again. “You boys done comparing pricks yet?” she asked.
Boar pointed a finger over Jackson’s shoulder. “I’m done with you two. Out.”
“Let’s go,” Godfrey said.
He started to leave, but Jackson hesitated.
“Boar, you—” Jackson started.
Tumea just shook her head. Jackson didn’t know the woman well, but if she said something was better left abandoned for now, then he would listen. She hadn’t led him wrong yet.
Tumea left with them, then shut the door and sighed.
“Boar is a bit rough around the edges, but his heart means well,” she said. “His family is here and he is trying to keep them alive.”
After she led them out of the storage area, she indicated a woman holding a toddler with a young boy maybe the age of six standing next to her.
“And you?” Jackson asked. “You have family here?”
“In the beginning, a cousin, but she died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should grab some food, water, and some sleep,” she said.
Jackson left with Godfrey to find the other Pistons. They were in a corner of the space, already eating with three other Pistons that Jackson had yet to meet. He felt better knowing he had more allies here in this Coalition-filled shelter.
After filling his stomach, Jackson found a spare sleeping pad. He was exhausted and glad to let the Coalition soldiers hold watch.
“You better get some rest too,” he said to Godfrey.
Godfrey nodded.
It didn’t take long for Jackson to drift off.
When he woke, he had no idea how much time had passed. He sat up in a daze, the ground shaking.
“What the hell…” he muttered.
People were rushing toward the shuttle.
Jackson pushed himself up. Godfrey and the Pistons were all standing now, looking around as if they were confused.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
Cold realization set in.
The superstructure had been repaired and was moving.
Tumea fought her way through the panicked crowd toward them.
“The scouts said the tower–” She looked up as more dust fell from the ceiling. It was the first time Jackson had seen fear in her eyes. “It’s coming this way.”
“Then we have to distract it or lead it away,” Jackson said. “It can’t find this place.”
The fear in her eyes softened, and a grin crossed her face.
“I like you,” Tumea said. “You are crazy, like me.”
She took off for the ladder with Jackson right behind her.
At the top, he looked back down at the frightened faces. Most were civilians. Boar was down there, herding his wife and kids into the shuttle.
It didn’t matter that the Colonel was once his mortal enemy. His family was innocent. They were why Jackson fought. Why he had become an Engine.
He had taken a vow to protect the innocent.
Coalition or Nova Alliance. It didn’t matter. He would fight with his last breath to save as many lives as possible.
***
Ronin stood in line with the now twenty-nine members of the Machine Slayers platoon inside a briefing room at Kepler Station. A day had passed since the drill that resulted in Orson losing his leg. The LDC continued to justify it with hollow words.
“When the time comes, there will be seconds to respond,” Zlaner told the platoon. “And while several cadets were injured in the chaos of the drill, this is exactly the type of training that is required for what awaits us.”
Ronin understood what Zlaner was saying, but it didn’t really make logical sense. Maybe the truth was that the sergeant didn’t know the real reason behind the botched drill.
He simply couldn’t understand how the LDC had made such a vital error.
Unless they meant to.
Don’t trust the LDC, Tadhg had told him.
Now Ronin had another reason to believe Tadhg was onto something.
The door opened, and the platoon lieutenant, a woman named Ariana Ortiz, walked inside. Her hair was cut short, just below her chin, and her dark eyes commanded everyone’s attention.
She was one of only a few women fighting for the LDC after the Lunar Council passed a law to keep fertile women from serving in a combat role. But Ortiz had been grandfathered in, based off her Earth service record. Rumor had it she single-handedly took out two Canebrakes on E-Day.
The lieutenant held up her rifle for everyone to see.
“Today you will learn how to fire one of these,” she said in an authoritative voice. “The RS-3 plasma rifle is the most advanced weapon in the history of warfare. Light, agile, accurate, and extremely powerful.”
She nodded at Zlaner, who walked over to the holo-port terminal. The lights dimmed.
“Before a bolt is fired, we’re showing you the enemy,” Ortiz said. “You’ve seen the Canebrakes, but you have yet to see the vessel they will likely arrive in, a vessel our pilots encountered and destroyed last week.”
Zlaner tapped the holo-port and a giant hologram of a ship appeared over the cadets. It was a weird design with a teardrop-shaped fore section connected to a bulbous, almost disc-shaped bow. Two wing-like structures jutted up from the bow on the dorsal side. Along the aft, two more wing-like structures angled downward followed by a single dorsal wing.
“This is actual footage,” Ortiz called out.
The hologram lowered to the lunar surface with six jointed legs. It used those legs to scurry up a mound. On the other side of the mound, a group of troopers, dwarfed by the machine, fled in all directions. The fast-moving craft crushed one with a piercing leg while mowing the others down with plasma bolts.
“We’re calling these enemy vessels, Ironclads,” Ortiz said.
“What can we even do to stop a ship like that?” someone asked.
Ronin recognized the voice as the same kid that had asked how they were expected to kill Canebrakes. But this time, the answer was far different.
“You don’t,” Ortiz said. “As advanced as the RS-3 rifle is, it’s useless against the Ironclads. Our cannons will destroy these vessels. We’re showing you this because it’s possible you will encounter one of these on a patrol, and if that happens, you don’t play hero. You run.”
“I can’t believe this is real,” Bradley whispered. “This is a nightmare.”
Ronin felt his heartbeat quicken. Part of him was glad Elan was back at the colony. He missed him, but he couldn’t imagine his brother being on the surface with those Ironclads potentially prowling under the regolith out there.
The footage continued for several minutes, switching to a battle at Lion Station.
Ronin could have sworn Tadhg showed up in the replayed footage, but it was just a glimpse.
When the presentation was over, Zlaner shouted their orders. “All cadets report to the armory and then Hangar 9 for assignments. Today, your combat training begins.”
The group filed out into the same passage they had been trapped a day earlier. Blood still stained the spot where Orson had lost his lower leg.
Zlaner waited outside the entrance to the armory.
Once the other cadets were inside, he called for Ronin to stop by him.
“I know what you saw in that footage,” Zlaner said. “I could see it in your gaze. That was indeed Sergeant Tadhg Walsh. I’m aware he served with your uncle.”
Zlaner subtly checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.
“I respected them,” he said. “Everyone in the Nova Alliance Strike Force did, but that was another time. You’re better off if you leave the past in the past.”
Ronin nodded, but that was just for show.
He would never forget his uncle or Tadhg, no matter what Zlaner said.
Ronin went inside the armory, grabbed a rifle, and marched to Hangar 9 where the rest of the cadets waited. The double-doors opened to a vast space that was once used to house mining equipment.
Four soldiers in modified Juggernaut suits stood with their backs to the cadets.
They turned as the platoon entered. All but one of the Juggernaut soldiers wore a helmet. He directed a rough face at the cadets, a smirk on his face.
“Fresh meat,” he said.
“We’re here for the next simulation,” Ortiz said.
“We’re just finishing up, LT.”
The trooper dragged the back of a gloved hand across his wrinkled brow before putting his helmet on. Then he gestured for the other three Juggernauts to follow. The giant men clanked out of the room, laughing.
Bradley moved out of the way to let the soldiers pass.
“Are those the new Engines?” he asked.
“More like assholes, if you ask me,” Ronin replied.
Zlaner continued into the chamber, waving the other cadets onward.
Ronin, Bradley, and Micky joined up again.
“Those guys are like human tanks,” Bradley said. “I heard they have Grind Shields in addition to those thick alloy plates.”
“Impressive,” Micky said.
“Impressive, but they aren’t Engines,” Ronin said. “Just soldiers in mech suits.”
He doubted it would make much of a difference against a Canebrake, but he kept the rest of his thoughts to himself to focus on the holo-training simulation.
The simulation facility was similar to the Droid Raider facilities where the ground could be transformed to resemble virtually any environment.
Zlaner stood next to Ortiz across from the cadets. The green-horns formed immaculate lines.
“This is your first firing test,” she said. “You’ll use non-lethal lasers. The simulator will calculate your score based off hits to the holo-images of Canebrakes.”
Zlaner activated the holo-port. An overlay of the lunar surface spread across the room, forming what looked like the rim of a crater.
Rising above the rim were the squid-like telescoping arms of a Canebrake. A fanned head emerged as it used the front two arms to pull itself from the crater.
The white holo-images of two more Canebrakes climbed out, standing seven feet tall, their plasma cannons rotating toward their targets.
Ortiz shouldered her rifle and opened fire. Return shots streaked toward her, but she moved fast, even with her exoskeleton, the device clanking as she strode, dove, and got up to shoot off a blast that slammed the center of the first Canebrake’s head.
Using rocks for cover, she unleashed a hailstorm of rounds at the advancing war droids. She was a hell of a shot. Each laser hit one of the monsters in the head or chest. Ronin didn’t think he saw a single stray shot.
Within seconds, two of the machines were down.
Now Ronin believed the rumors about her on E-Day.
The third and final Canebrake let loose with both plasma cannons, hitting her before she could duck back down behind the rock.
An alarm sounded and the remaining Canebrake froze.
“Nice shooting, lieutenant,” Zlaner said.
“I’ll get all three one of these days,” she replied.
Ortiz cradled her rifle and faced the cadets.
“In combat, the trooper that moves, survives,” she said. “You freeze up, and you’re dead, but before we teach you to move, you have to learn to shoot.”
“Who’s up first?” Zlaner asked.
A few of the cadets looked to Ronin but before he could raise a hand, a nasally voice said, “I’ll go.”
To the surprise of Ronin, it was Bradley.
He stepped up with his rifle.
“Run it, Sergeant,” he said.
Micky whispered, “He’s going to embarrass himself.”
“You got this,” Ronin said to encourage Bradley.
Bradley stepped up as the simulation reset. This time, the holo-images formed a hallway about five hundred feet long. It resembled one of the passages beneath Kepler Station, not much different than the one they had been trapped inside.
A blue box bloomed in the middle of the hallway. Bradley walked over to it and stopped.
The hatches at the end of the hallway both opened, disgorging a Canebrake at both sides.
Chirping kicked off the simulation and both Canebrakes charged.
“Holy shit!” Bradley shouted.
He went down on a knee, firing at the machine on his left. The shots slammed into the Canebrake while it prepared to fire two segmented arms.
The lasers hit both of those arms, disabling them.
He turned and fired a burst at the machine behind him, forcing it down. Then he turned back to the original machine, hammering it with fire. It launched a maelstrom of rounds from its plasma cannons, but Bradley slid under the spray.
He fired another salvo that hit it right in the face. The hologram collapsed in a heap on the ground.
“Damn,” Micky said.
“Nice!” Ronin called out.
Bradley turned toward the other Canebrake. It was closing in, already fifty feet away.
Its arms churned out toward Bradley, then ripped into him, the holo-graphic blades coming out his back.
An alarm chirped.
The cadets watched Bradley walk back to their ranks.
Ronin nodded at his friend. “Great job.”
Bradley smiled ear to ear.
“Don’t get cocky,” Zlaner said. “Next time, those machines might not be holograms.”
— 9 —
“Welcome home,” Akira whispered.
His helmet broke through the choppy water of Sagamai Bay just after two in the morning. Hours spent in the cramped submersible had given him plenty of time to think of what awaited him.
He rose halfway out of the water with his plasma rifle pressed against his shoulder pad. Waves crashed against the rocky shore and slapped against his body.
To the west, he could see Mount Fuji in the moonlight. He turned to the northeast. Before E-Day, he would have been able to see Megacity Tokyo and its three famous glass towers shaped like swords. But the once magnificent metropolis was nothing but a memory now.
Akira took a moment to take stock of his gear.
In the armored carrier on his right leg was the tech kit. That kit contained the power source to restore the systems at the Life Ark, a comm-pad with a coded infiltration unit to bring Apeiron online, and a nano-drive to extract the AI. Juno had explained the state of the art tech before he left. She had also installed the same equipment the deep-sea droids used for ground penetrating radar on Akira’s power armor.
He did a systems check to make sure everything was working. Green lights came back on each of the tests. He had everything he needed to accomplish his mission except for his comrades.
But Akira wasn’t exactly alone.
Okami was hunting through the destruction a mile away, and the droid horse was still underwater, waiting for Akira’s command.
After seeing Juno’s attempt to camouflage the droids in Osaka fail, he wasn’t completely confident that his animal companions would be undetectable either. Maybe the deep-sea droids had only been discovered because they’d been like Icarus, coming too close to the sun—or in this case, the machines’ hive.
Either way, Akira wanted to minimize his risks.
The two droids they had deployed still hadn’t picked up any machine activity in the crater but Akira wasn’t yet convinced the enemy had really abandoned Megacity Tokyo.
For ten minutes, he stood still like a statue in the surf until Okami returned.
Using his wrist computer, Akira called for Kichiro. The metallic horse rose out of the water behind him, eyes glowing in the darkness.
“Okay, my old friend,” he said. “Let’s find Apeiron.”
Akira climbed up into the saddle, and the horse started across the beach. A flattened fishing village lay across the shoreline. Beyond, portions of the fifty-story wall that had once surrounded the megacity were still standing, like random teeth on a rotting jaw. It was a relic of human engineering, and another reminder of what the machines had built before they had erased the city and the rich history within it.
Including places like Edo Castle.
Akira’s thoughts turned to his brother and son who had been laid to rest there. A deep-seated regret filled him before he pushed it aside. No amount of sorrow for their deaths would bring them back—and it certainly wouldn’t help him find Apeiron.
Focusing on anything other than that goal could also get him killed.
Akira gripped his rifle as Kichiro trotted across a street. The skeletal remains of Hummer Droids lay on the sidewalks, their skinny limbs twisted and sticking up into the air.
