Trial by Ice (16 page)

The cigarette flared once more. Footsteps came closer at a leisurely pace. The man had his eyes raised to the sky. He stared at the brightest pinpricks of light that pierced the foggy veil.

William could feel himself begin to sweat. As long as the man kept his eyes skyward he'd not see them. But if he looked down there would be no doubt that he and Sebastien would be seen. He reached into his jacket and slid out the polymer blade.

It rested in his fingers with the tip bedded in the slag. The man came closer. The rifle slung on his side was tempting, but in this case would drag him into trouble, not out of it.

Sebastien laid next to him in silence. William could feel his breath against his neck. Whatever happened, William would be the first one to act, though the augment would back him up, he was sure of it.

The walker was so close now he could hear the cigarette crackle as he inhaled. William closed his eyes to the barest slit and watched. The man was at the end of the cigarette. He stopped, turned, and arced the spent ember over the slag pile. Over William and Sebastien.

There was a moment of recognition where the man was admiring the arc of the embers. His eyes slid down that rustled bank and over an unknown form. William sensed it. He could feel that recognition as the man stopped. It gnawed in his stomach and he sprang up.

The man reached behind and stepped backwards in a smooth motion. The rifle was momentarily out of reach. The polymer blade came in as the man panicked to reach the rifle.

William pushed it in just below his sternum and held the blade rigidly in his hands. The initial softness gave way to a stiff springiness. The scent of tobacco smoke and a hint of musky cologne hit his nose. The man gasped and dropped to the ground.

The rifle clattered from his grip as the sling came loose. His knees wobbled for a slight second and then he stiffened. William had never seen a man die to a knife wound before.

Had he known better he would have stripped the blade out and pushed it in once more. But he didn't and the man turned and lurched away. The polymer blade pierced into his breast. The man was dead, but his body didn't know it yet.

A low moan built into an intense scream as the stabbed man gained momentum. William sprinted after and tackled him onto the ground. The mass of the man squirmed and moaned in agony.

Why isn't he dead? What the hell is he doing?
To William, a knife wound seemed basic, something you succumb to. Little did he know that it was the most agonizing way to die. His blade had missed all critical organs, the man was simply bleeding to death like a stuck animal.

The thrashing came next as the animal inside woke and tried to escape the piercing wound. William grasped the shoulders and shook the man, slamming his chest into the ground. A piece of slag glittered nearby. He scooped it up and drove the raw glassy edges against the man’s head. Once. Twice. Three times.

The final blow caved the skull in and the man was silent and still.

William caught his breath. His heart was humming like a tuned engine. His arms were sore and his joints felt metallic. He turned hurriedly and saw Sebastien watching him, still laying on the ground where he left him.

"Why didn't you help?" William said through the darkness.

Sebastien stood slowly and walked over. He grasped the leg of the dead man and dragged him the thirty meters into the truly dark divide between the buildings. "Sometimes you gotta know a man’s got it in him." He dropped the leg with a thud. "There's a trust now, we get into a fight and I know."

William was without words as he stood in the shadows.

Sebastien kneeled down and stripped the body of anything useful. He yanked the knife free and tossed it to William. The stubby assault rifle was unlike the other weapons. "Hun," Sebastien mumbled as he slung it onto his shoulder.

The adrenaline seeped out and the sickness came back. He wasn’t retching, but the metallic taste was deep in his throat. All he wanted to do was go and sleep. He felt tarnished, dull, but not remorseful. He walked away wondering if that should bother him.

* * *

The night grew damp as the dim moon poked out from between the rolling pews of fog. William couldn’t help but feel that it held an air of mystery. This feeling soon ebbed as he realized he was still hungry. The thought of a proper meal was ever on the edge of his mind.

He wondered what he had become. An hour before he stabbed a man to death, now he was wondering if Leduc could steal something other than porridge. He followed behind Sebastien and the local guide, Jebediah. He was fairly sure Jebediah was drunk, but drunk like someone who operates in a permanent haze of ethanol.

They turned into the hovels that bordered the abandoned stamp mill and loud voices carried through the air. William patted the pistol as he ran low behind Sebastien. He peeked around a corner and saw a group of men arguing with Crow and David.

William stepped out and walked towards the group. “What is this? Keep your damn voices down. Sergeant, what’s going on here?”

The civilians were grouped behind David. The group stood on heels with arms crossed and eyes glittering in the orange. None of them looked excited to see the liberators.

“Bit of a disagreement, sir,” Crow said. His weapon, while not pointed at them, wasn’t pointing in a friendly way.

“We want you out, you’re going to get us killed,” yelled a man in dirty orange coveralls. He shook his fist and stamped as he spoke.

The group of men around him nodded with stiff chins.

The man was emboldened by his cohorts. “What gives you the right?” he asked with eyes hazed by alcohol. “To come here and decide our fate?” He stomped to the side and pointed to the glow in the sky. “What if we like it? What do you bring? My grandchildren aren’t sick, no one starves!” The man spat and glared at William.

William stood and stared at the group of men. He knew what they were thinking, he debated it himself. He wanted to look to Sebastien, or find Vito, but he knew that it stopped here. They wanted answers, from him, now. “Had I had a choice, we’d have come in and done this the proper way. Unfortunately that didn’t happen and we’re forced to do this the hard way.”

“Gonna get us shot!” the orange suited man howled.

“Do you enjoy being slaves?” William asked quietly, turning his head to stare into the orange glow of the refinery.

“We can leave whenever we want,” the orange suited man said smugly, as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“All of you? Or your children in ten years? Step back and look, everything you have is different, they can take what they want, do as they please, or simply burn you from orbit. You have nothing but the trifles they allow.” William spat as he spoke. He pointed up at the shadow of the stamp mill. “You’re nothing but a tool, to make a product, to be discarded and scrapped when finished, or repurposed into something unpleasant.”

“We have what we need, just leave!”

William snorted. “Has David told you about the Covenant? Told you the protection it holds?”

“Lies from a snake, nothing but a politician he was.”

William was afraid that David wasn’t everything he said to be. “Did he tell you that you can do as you please, trade freely, and get the protections to prevent this slavery?”

“We’re not slaves!” the man slurred.

“Bullshit, you know it, the look in your eyes spells it, and the hunch in your back proves it. You aren’t descended from fearful men. Go find your roots, know that this isn’t how it was.”

“But we’ll be shot!”

“You’ll be shot, anyway.” William turned the tide from fear of the unknown to fear of the obvious. “Fight with us and gain the freedom to choose your future. Stand on this day and your planet will remember it forever, bow down and you’ll be forgotten in weeks, whispered only as the men who would not stand.”

The air hung with dampness in a dim orange glare. Even the drunk man in orange stared into the darkness at his feet.  This was the future,
their
future, and they would decide it.

“Make your choice, our time is running thin. We might die without your help, but all of us will wake tomorrow morn as truly free men,” William said as he walked slowly into the shadows.

Quick footsteps crunched in the gravel behind him. William turned with Sebastien as Selim ran up with Leduc, Vito, and Avi behind him. Avi looked hyped and even the serene Leduc had a glimmer in his eye. Vito looked simply out of breath and tired.

Selim took a single, slow, deep breath and a snap salute. “Mr. Grace,” he said, eying the civilian crowd. “May we speak inside?”

William nodded towards the inside of the stamp mill. “Of course, Sergeant, after you.”

Selim stepped out of earshot of the civilians. The group stood and argued with a reinvigorated David. “We saw Grue.”

William took a breath. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, we were scouting the elevator and saw him come through on a troop truck. They started reinforcing the terminal.”

“Wait a second, he was with the mercs?”

Selim nodded. “He didn’t have a weapon, but he was definitely with them.”

Now William understood the excitement. The enemy knew they were here, and more importantly, who they were. But what about Berry?

David walked into the conversation with his son by his side. The pair stood off to the side, waiting for permission to come closer. David looked worn, tired, old.

“What is it, David?” William asked as he beckoned them forward.

“They will stand with us, for now, but none of them are satisfied. They have much to lose if this doesn’t succeed.”

“So how is it then, you were once in charge here, and now they are?”

David nodded slowly. “Something like that.”

“We’re not involved in your politics, we’ve got a mission and then we’re gone, use us as a crutch at your own peril,” William said as he pointed a finger at the old man. “Get your people ready, we strike at shift change. Sergeant, get everyone back and ready, time to get this done.”

The pair walked out slowly. Peter turned, framed in the orange light and spoke. “You’ll lose just your lives if this fails—we’ll lose our planet, our families, our future.”

William looked at Peter with cold eyes and nodded. “I’m the only one here who truly understands what that means. We’ll do our part, you do yours.”

Peter looked back in silence and then turned and walked away.

* * *

The weapon was laid out in blocky segments. Each piece simple but precise. A polished plate, an oval pin, a serrated slot. Each one snapped into the next as Tik checked her weapon once more.

“Tik, you’re with Hess,” Selim said as he inspected the weapon.

She looked up and shook her head. “I’m with the fireteam, Sergeant.”

“Negative, I can see the limp. You’re in reserve.”

“Sergeant, I can do more pull-ups than anyone here, I think—”

“No.” Selim shook his head. “If you fall behind, you hold the squad up.”

Tik nodded, knowing better than to argue. She seethed inside as the NCO walked away. She checked the action once more and slammed it home with a smack of her palm. She hadn’t come all this damn way to sit on the sidelines and watch the men handle the work.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Assault

William blinked away the sleep and was greeted by a dull orange glow, not of the rising sun but of the sodium lamps. He let out a slight sigh. This was it. The morning would tell whether or not he would reach for the stars or be buried in a ditch.

He fell in with the rest of the men and ate from the rough bag of rye porridge. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue, the slick tallow as the only flavoring besides salt. The hunger was kept at bay, but his body still demanded something more. Visions of thin crackling sausages teased him as the featureless paste went down.

Eyes were on him as he ate in silence. Vito plopped down and scooped at the meal quietly. William looked around and caught glances on occasion. The adrenaline was rising through the room. The fight was itching to start.

Sergeant Selim sat down with his legs crossed near William. He tapped his leg and nodded to himself as he waited for William to eat.

Sebastien came with Crow and both squatted, completing the circle. The time had arrived. He scraped the plastic bowl one last time and nodded. The civilians were waiting outside.

“Go over it once more,” Sebastien said softly, with his eyes closed.

Crow began. “Mr. Grace, Sebastien, Myself, Aleksandr, Avi, Xinhu, and Xan all hit the complex.”

Selim went next. “I’ve got Vito, Tero, Leduc, Kerry, Eduardo, O’Toole, with Tik and Von Hess in backup.”

Sebastien nodded and tapped the ground. “The plan?”

William responded, “Keep it simple.”

Selim finished the phrase, “Because it’s going to change.”

“Right, we blow our way into the refinery once the civilians hit the front door. While the civilians jam the door and set some grenades off. We move in and make our way up,” Sebastien said, with a sweep of his hand.

“Elevator crew will hold the forces there down and wait until the refinery is secured. Once the main asset is down, we siege,” Selim said.

William felt like a fifth wheel bouncing along the back. He listened and nodded with each NCO.

“Mr. Grace, stick with Avi, his job is to keep you out of trouble,” Sebastien said with a tilt of his head in Avi’s direction.

“We’re going to need every man, I can work,” William said as he was cut off.

“In case you didn’t notice, you’re the only one here who knows how to command a spaceship,” Sebastien said in a simple tone. “You’re lucky I’m not making you sit it out, but we do need all our forces.”

William knew he was right and nodded. He just hated the thought of being stuck in back while other men were shooting and being shot before him. He patted the pistol in his jacket just to make sure it was there.

“Civilians armed?” Sebastien asked.

“They’ve got a mix of rifles, except the Hun room buster, I’m taking that,” Crow said.

“Crow and Aleksandr are the assault bunnies. That pattern armor is some pretty nice stuff,” Sebastien said, as he patted Crow’s shoulder.

“I wish we had a drone bunny,” Eduardo mumbled.

The soldiers and Marines agreed.

“Drone bunny?” Tero asked with a nervous smirk.

Von Hess spoke up. “We prefer to have the striders group around a point man and seek out trouble in, um, tight spots I think is the word.”

“They take the risks in close quarters combat,” Eduardo said.

“So why the term, bunny?” Xan asked.

“Dog racing,” Eduardo stated simply.

“Oh.”

Sebastien looked annoyed at the questions. “Move fast and hit hard, we’ve got one shot at this. They know we’re here, so make it count. Stick behind the guys in armor.” He looked to the Naval crew. “Stick in cover otherwise.” He looked around the room and asked, “Questions?”

William felt his heart rise just a bit. This was it. In a matter of an hour they’d move on the objectives and purchase that most priceless of things: freedom. He only hoped that the butcher’s bill wouldn’t be too high.

* * *

The morning clouds came in fast and low, dancing through the dim orange light. North wind brought the first tides of the coming winter and a chill that crept into every man. The upper reaches of the refinery were hidden in the folds of the clouds while the blackness of the elevator disappeared into the heavens.

William waited outside of the abandoned stamp mill. A slight hiss rain whipped around him. A gruff looking civilian led Dzavi out from the darkness and into an alley. The mercenary locked eyes with William as he was led into shadow.

In William’s jacket was stuffed what few spare nanite ammo slabs they had left, a pair of the wonderful wire grenades and rough cloth. Vito had turned his nose up at the cloth, but thought it better to have something to bind a wound than nothing at all. The pistol rested heavily against his breast with the polymer blade close by. The knife, of everything he carried, was the most personal.

Avi walked up and stood before William with a puffed chest and a face blackened by soot. “Mr. Grace, I’ll be your escort today.”

“Are we ready, Avi?”

“Yes, sir,” Avi nodded with a smile.

The pair stood in the mist and waited for the rest of the crew to walk up. Two columns stood and departed in silence. Vito shrugged lightly and waved to William. “We’ll keep the coffee warm!”

The elevator was a squat complex of stone, iron, and alloy. The ribbon of coal black nanofibers burst into the clouds. Every window and door was sealed close with firing ports scattered about.

The assault team waited behind a set of shipping containers. There was decent cover all the way up the complex itself. What they’d do when they got there was a different story. A roar cascaded through the clouds as the assault on the refinery began.

“Move it up. Keep it tight. Hess, Tik, keep it covered,” Selim said as he peered around the corner.

Tik watched, angrily, as the rest of the assault team bounded from one container to the next before arriving at the edge of the yard. Then the defenders opened up. She strained to be with them.

“Can you see anything to shoot?” Von Hess asked.

Tik bit her lip and scanned over the top of the assault rifle. There was damn little to see that offered a shot. Whoever was inside had no intention of trying to get out. Nor much intention of preventing an assault. They just had to stay buttoned up.

The assault stalled even before it really got moving. With nowhere to go, the assault team shifted from one point to the next. All entrances were sealed. Both sides had accomplished their goal, one side had protected the elevator while the other had kept that team engaged.

Tik stood behind the container and cracked her back. “Fuck this.”

* * *

They trekked through the awakening hovels to the sounds of angry men. The men who once governed now spoke of freedom, toil, slavery, and the future. The men from the stars moved in silence to the edge of the slag field and waited.

The rabble that caroused down the street was adorned in every manner of jacket, coverall, helmet, and suit. The weapons they hoisted ranged from iron pipes to industrial tools designed to remove slag. One large woman had an iron plate strapped to her chest and a pair of cruel hooks in her hands. David was in the middle of the pack. He gave a tired wave and followed the mob.

Peter ran up with a dirty bag hanging from each hand. “Here! You might need these.”

William took one of the stained bags and Xinhu the other.

Xinhu grasped the bag and peeked inside. “Explosives?”

Peter, with a slight whiff of stinging alcohol, gave out a bellow and joined the mob.

Sebastien pointed to the rise and the crew fanned out. They watched the mob in silence until they passed from view.

William looked down the slope and saw the spot where he had stabbed the man to death just a few meters down the road. He couldn’t see into the gap where he knew the body would lie. Part of him wanted to rise and look, while another was satisfied knowing the man wasn’t in the refinery.

A tinny voice echoed into the sky from beyond the rise. Sebastien raised a hand to keep the men silent. The loudspeakers were pointing to the gate, away from them.

William strained to make out any words. Nothing came through except the fact that someone was saying something, but he had no idea what. He sighed and shifted his weight in the slag. He tapped his chest and felt the reassuring weight of the pistol.

“They’re telling them to stand down, they want to negotiate, uh, hmm, claim we are here to enslave the population.” Sebastien said. He strained himself up as the wind blew. “Something about corruption, the truth, it’s all bullshit now.”

“Would they surrender?” Xan asked.

“Not bloody likely,” Crow replied as he slid himself higher onto the rise. “Oop, they’re making towards the complex. Everyone get ready.”

Gunfire rang out. It echoed off the low clouds and the sound bounced off the superstructure.

William scrambled to the top of the rise. His clothes were thoroughly soaked as the light mist gave way to a steady drizzle. He’d have shivered if not for the adrenaline pumping through him.

The booming of grenades was muffled. William realized that they had been set off inside of the building.

“Let’s go!” Sebastien yelled as he rose and disappeared over the rise.

William crawled over the peak and slid down the backside. A service access through the fence was busted open and he followed everyone through and into the grounds of the refinery. Before them lay an open stretch with a blank wall rising into the mist broken only by an occasional door. He kept himself hunched and scurried forward.

A new noise broke the morning that had never sounded before. The drone alarms howled a terrible noise. Far above in the mist the pods of razor drones cracked open and loosed the horrible cargo.

“Set those charges,” Sebastien yelled as he pointed to a rust fringed service door.

Xan slid on his knees to the base of the door and pulled out a gray cube with a simple strip on the side. The strip had one tab with minutes on it, with another tab to set it. He pulled off the one minute tab and ripped off the set tab. He slapped it against the door frame.

The crew slid back away from the door and peered up into the mist expecting the drones to arrive at any moment. The sporadic gunfire from the front of the refinery still called out but was answered with heavy automatic fire from within. Screams drifted through the mist.

William turned his head away and counted with the beeps. The final beeps came quicker, faster, until it gave a steady tone. His ears rang like a chipped bell and he realized that the charge had gone off. He pulled out the pistol and followed behind Avi.

The interior of the building rose in a pillar of industrial equipment. Pipes, stairwells, drums, and silos occupied the entire building. Above was a large squat control booth ringed with tinted windows. Towards the front lie barricades with the Samoans firing out into the daylight beyond.

William sprinted with Avi and took cover in a section of pipe flanges and manifolds. His heart was beating loudly in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything else but a ringing sound.

Withering fire raged towards the Samoan defenders as they turned in surprise. Sebastien fired in rapid bursts as the main line of defenders tried to shift. They had set up expecting the gate to be assaulted. A wide area of empty ground separated them from the next safe cover.

The civilian assault was hammered by the razor drones outside and the heavy gunfire inside. They fled inwards, away from the drones and into the confusion. Men scooped up rifles from the dead and fired at razor drones behind and the defenders in front. The Samoans were pinched, but the civilians were being flayed into the fray.

The crew slid into positions and moved into better cover. The area around them was a forest of steel and fixtures painted a dim green. Returning fire pinged off the surrounding fixtures but the surprise had taken its toll. The Samoans were breaking and abandoning the position, and the wounded, while they sprinted for cover.

“Pick ‘em off!” Crow yelled as he held the stubby assault rifle up and sent bursts into the fleeing mercenaries. The rifle was loud and blasted out an angry orange flame from the muzzle.

William raised the pistol and remembered the futility of driving rounds at such a distance. He instead focused on scouting beyond and watching for new threats. The command area loomed out of the wall and he watched it carefully. The only way to shut off the drones was inside that cube.

The civilians screamed as the razor drones continued the assault.

The smoked glass in the center of the control area spidered and shattered. Behind it emerged a stubby rotary cannon that swung towards them.

“Autocannon behind us!” William yelled as he rose and ran deeper into the machinery.

The autocannon shattered out a ripping sound as it showered a rain of steel cored rounds and explosive shells. They shifted the fire away from the heavy cover of the machine and towards the wall of civilians fleeing the drones.