Authors: Stephan Malone
“How many guns are left?” Berg asked loudly against the sonic assault.
Ttthhhrrruuummmm. Ka-bloof
.
“Down to ten sir!” An unidentified voice announced.
“Damn,” The General whispered to himself.
Ttthhhrrruuuummm.. Ka-bloof.
The sounds were fewer now, diminished but not altogether gone.
“Sir two guns left!” A short pause. “One gun sir! Northeast forty-two!” Two more reports vibrated through the room, then nothing. An acidified silence overtook the entire City as the last auto-turret went down. “All guns compromised sir! Enemy advancing!”
“Percentage Lieutenant!” Berg asked.
“Twelve point five!” The auto-turrets had killed just under thirteen percent of the Raiders, eighty-seven percent remained alive.
“Shit,” the General muttered as he lowered his head. “Squad control! Everyone to the gates and pull in! Spread ‘em out standard vee-flank! Three by three! Gantry control! Go live! Now! Fire control! Get the one-thirty-fours spun up to engage!”
The room broke into chaotic frenzy. The Control team leaders all shouted commands and directives into their microphones built into their battle goggles. “Foxtrot two-two! Ready seven and engage at will! Fallback to sawtooth formation if compromised! No prejudice!” To an outsider these commands meant little but to the soldiers these were as commongrey as a pregnant cloud on any given day, mother of the new rain.
Venusia and Veliosa flickered into being only this time at opposite ends of the large table in the room’s center. Veliosa said, “I am sending out messages to all Citizens to stand ready.”
Venusia said, “Gantry control responds ready! All gates standing by. Core tactical standing by. All lines ready, seven-two-seven, sir!” There was a slight desperation in her tone, another anomalous affectation for a Greater Assistant.
The General popped a piece of chewing gum into his mouth and said, “Thank you. Everyone ready! First breach estimate?”
Venusia started to speak, “Breach will probably be Gate Six, nine..” but was interrupted by her Assistant twin.
Veliosa said, “Sir, Gate Four will go first. We were in the process of maintenance on that particular Gate and it’s not done yet.”
“Is there any way the Raiders can determine that from the outside?” General Berg asked as he slowly chewed, his focus on the twin holograms, the illuminescent sisters.
Venusia said, “No, cosmetically the Gate appears the same from all inbound vectors.”
“Good, good.” At once a large wireframe of the Polar City’s border floated over the situation room’s center table. The Gates themselves were highlighted with a brighter trace than the rest of the City and they all glowed a confident green. The recon drones remained alive to feed in videos of the scene outside.
And then all the Gates on the outlined trace flicked from a calm green to a blink-steady yellow. “All Gates being engaged now sir!” Someone from Logistics yelled forth. “Coilguns! No heavies detected!”
“How close are they on average?” Berg asked.
“Varies by Gate sir but, hang on. About thirty meters give or take sir!” he said.
The General said, “Okay flip up the one-thirty-fours!” Berg looked across the room. “Whose the leader at Gate Four?”
“Sergeant Raige sir,” someone responded.
“Venusia! Raise the Sergeant for me please,” Berg asked.
Two high pitched bleeps sounded from the General’s battle goggles and then a voice. “This is Raige! Go ahead!” His voice carried just above what sounded like a flurry of pellets shot against a wall of tinned metal.
“Sergeant what’s your status? How’s it lookin'?” Berg said.
“Well sir all my men are ready,” he said above the sounds.
Tink-tink-tink-tink-thunk-tink-thunk.
“They’re nibbling down the Gate with those damn Coilguns. It’s holding though sir.”
“Okay Sergeant we’re bringing the one-thirty-fours online! Be ready,” Berg responded.
Sergeant Raige said, “Awesome General! That’ll take a bite outta their asses!” He shut off his communicator and waved to his troops who stood ready and alive, just inside of the massive edifice of Gate Four’s main doorway. He cupped his ears to silently signal everyone to put on their hearing protection. The floor plates flipped and revealed two banks of mini-guns, three abreast, descendants of the original General Electric M134 minis. They were old weapons, but reliable. The Raiders just outside the City Gate paused their fire at the sight of the menace guns that simply emerged from nowhere.
Two seconds passed as the mini guns locked themselves down. Venusia raised her blueglowed hand and calmly said, “One-thirty-fours loud,” and then lowered it to her side.
Gate Four resonated against the incredible firepower. Saturated with vibratoed recoils, the front line Raiders fell into pulped piles before they even knew what hit them.
Zzzzzzzzzzzttttthhhh, pppzzzzzzzztthhh,
the mini-guns swept and mowed their way cross just as fast as their six-barreled armatures could be pivoted by the internalized servo-hydraulic mounts.
Piles of dead Raiders were pushed back against more of the dead as the minis sustained their assault. It wasn’t until the piles of dead were five or six deep before the rearmost Raiders ducked behind them as newly born shield fodder.
“Sir the minis are tearin’ 'em ‘part out there!” Sergeant Raige yelled into his battle goggles. “Few more minutes of this shit and I think this little party’s gonna be over!”
“Thank you Sergeant, stand ready,” The General responded. “Okay where are we now? Update!” Berg appeared red faced and sweaty.
“Looks like the minis took ‘em down to about forty five percent! The survivors are hiding behind their dead sir!” A voice from Tactical Division.
“Can the minis hit them through their dead or not?” Berg asked.
“No sir they’re too damn thick now! The mini-gun rounds are just sinking into the casualties at this point!”
“Venusia, simulate opening the Gates and estimate what would happen if we engaged them manually right now.”
Venusia said, “Simulating now based on current survivability data in-state.” She paused for fifteen seconds and reported, “Simulations ran, one thousand twenty-four. Predicted success rate is still zero point zero percent.” She paused and looked at the General. “I’m sorry General there are still too many of the Raiders with Coilguns.”
“Okay,” Berg said. “Can we see what the hell they are doing now from any of the drones?”
“Yes sir we are tracking them from the Gates!” The wraparound screen revealed one of the drone’s video feeds. “Looks like they fell back about twenty meters from their dead!”
“What are they doing though?”
“Well,” the drone camera focused slightly closer to the Raiders and showed them prone while they aimed their Coilguns in the direction of the Gates straight into the mounded heaps of their fallen. “Damned if I know. What
are
they doing? They gonna re-shoot their dead? I don’t get this sir!”
The General squinted into the large screen and said nothing for a moment then, “No. Shit, no. Venusia get the mini’s flipped under now!”
Venusia retorted, “But sir they will charge the…”
Berg interrupted her and screamed, “Goddamn it Venusia DO IT I said!”
Venusia responded, “Yes sir. Retreating one-thirty-four banks now!” She tremulously returned. The drone video showed the mini-gun platforms as they slowly flipped up and over, but it was too late.
The Raiders blindly shot their Coilguns straight through their own dead as an unstoppable wave of Coilrounds hit the Gates, some of which hit the presently still-retreating gun platforms. Hydraulic fluid and oil gushed up and away from each platform as if the guns themselves were living entities mortally wounded. Only one mini-gun made it safely back down as it tucked itself under the surface relatively intact. Even that singular survivor was knocked out of service state.
And then, nothing.
A great silence fell across the City. Everyone in the situation room looked at the City wireframe as it slowly rotated, the Gates blinked yellow, some red, one remained a resilient green that offered little comfort to anyone. They were stunned into a sheer loss at what to do or even say, paralyzed and mutestruck, all.
General Berg broke the silent overcloud. “Venusia.” Venusia’s two meter tall avatar remained still, not a word to respond. “Venusia!”
“Yes, General.”
“How many remain.” No response. “How many I said!” The General barked at her.
For thirty seconds Venusia said nothing and only shimmered next to her sister. This was the first time a Greater Assistant had ever done this. The General stared at her even though her eyes were not real, her actual eyes contained within thousands of sensors that were everywhere. The City itself provided her with her sensorium.
“Venusia, I asked you a question!” Berg spit out the words against her blue-white luminous frame.
Without any inflection she simply said, “Forty-two.”
“Forty-two percent, and of that forty-two percent, how many can we dispatch with our remaining defenses? Can you estimate that for me?”
She paused some more then looked over to her sister’s avatar. “Dammit Venusia don’t look to your sister for an answer!” He stepped right up to her avatar, only centimeters away. “How many?”
Venusia said simply, “General Berg, against this we cannot survive.”
The General froze, no blink, no breath, nothing at all.
“I’m sorry, but we won’t. They will kill every one of you, all of you if you stand. The probability of campaign success is now zero point eight percent. That will only happen if we can sustain a five-to-one kill ratio for all, even for the armed citizens.”
Veliosa said, “She is right sir. There is no tactical solution. We cannot win our theatre. There is only one option left.”
Everyone in the situation room jumped when Sergeant Raige’s voice boomed over the intercom. “Guys just so ya know they’re almost in!” Muffled Coilgun shots sounded through the Sergeant’s battle comm as they nibbled away at the Gate from outside.
Tink tink tink tink thunk thunk tink.
“Ready now! Fuck ‘em up people!” Throngs of shouts echoed from the intercom as Raige’s men and women rallied forth. “Wooo hooo! Hell yeah!!” Sergeant Raige yelled as the
tink-tink-tink-tink-thunk-thunk-tink
gave way to a bone shattering
KA-KLOOONG
as Gate Four reverbed and fell onto the concrete below.
“Raige you there?” There was no response, nothing.
And then his communicator keyed down to an uncomfortable zero, a waterfallen hiss laced with spark random crackles was all that remained.
Aurelia, Julian, Dusty and Kama were ducked out behind a concrete planter just south of the City Centre. They were ready for anything while they scanned the street. Hundreds of City citizens took cover behind whatever they could get their hands on. Sculptures, poles, makeshift stacks of pallets and boxes, tables, beds, chairs, bureaus, desks and couches were stacked and thrown sideways from nearby Pods to provide them with cover. The main street illumination system was offline. Only the many thousands of tiny Neverfails remained lit from far above. Some citizens opted to use directional lamps to throw light ahead of their home rolled nests in the hopes that they would see the Raiders early on.
“I think I hear ‘em,” Aurelia said.
“What? I don’t hear nothin’,” Dusty whispered.
“No, I definitely heard one of
those
,” Aurelia said as she pointed her battle rifle at Kama’s Coilgun.
“Knock it off guys. Stay focused,” Julian said. And they did just that. Six minutes passed. The City was all-quiet except for the unmistakable sounds of guns in the distance.
A muffled cough came from the street’s opposite side. Julian’s ears picked up on every shuffle, motion, heavy breath, sigh and sniffle from anyone within a hundred meters around him. He looked around. All eyes were presently trained on the street that headed toward Gate Four, its end almost a kilometer away.
The gunshots drew closer but were still far removed from their position. A single Coilround thwapped into an overturned table and went cleanly through the wood. Two women and a man jumped back from behind the table, their newly issued Citizen rifles rattled away from their hands in surprise. Miraculously they were unharmed, sheer luck’s grace on their side.
They could hear shouts and yells but could not make out what was being said. Everyone tensed and dug in as best they could. And then, about thirty Military soldiers sprinted
toward them.
They waved their hands and yelled as they ran, “Level Seven! Go to Level Seven! Go! Go! Run! Everyone Level..!”
At first nobody moved from their position, unsure of what to do.
Had the Raiders overtaken the Gates that fast?
Julian thought. It seemed so impossible. Yet, that was exactly what happened.
The soldiers ran past the four and continued to yell down the street. “Level Seven everyone! Go go go!” The fastest of the Raiders emerged into the crude light cone made by cleverly positioned lamps and lights laid on their sides. They were about eighty meters away, barely illuminated from that distance but in clear evidence. Three quarters of the Citizens shot at them as they peeked over their cover. A few Raiders fell immediately while the rest fired back with their Coilguns at what they guessed the Citizens hid out.
Ka-thunk, ka-thunk,
their Coilrounds reached into the blind and scattered light. Screams of pain shocked the street alive. A few Citizens lay dead or nearly so as they rolled their bodies back to the momentary safety of their cover lines.
The four stood over the concrete planter and engaged the Raiders almost as a single unit. “Left! Left!” Kama yelled as she sunk two Coilrounds into the temple of an onrushing Raider. His legs accordioned in and folded down at once. The others followed her cue and trained their sights on the left side. “Straight up!” She yelled and they again followed her suggestion and waved their barrels directly ahead.
Julian could barely make out the Raiders as they were so dimly lit but fired at whatever he thought was a halfway decent chance of an enemy body. Aurelia and Dusty could see them somewhat more clearly, but not by much. Thanks to Kama’s genetically modified retinas she could resolve the enemy with a fair lead for her friends.