Alien Enigma (15 page)

***

"Coming into range for orbital insert, sir," Anita Chavez announced.

"Fred, how's it looking? Are you picking up any search emissions?"

"No, sir. I believe the aliens had been watching us when we were in geo orbit but our EW is pretty good. I think they've lost us now. Don't see any neutrino or wide-band scans coming our way, just a sweep but no lock. There is something else, though. We've detected two areas resembling mining operations and what seems like large transport ships. However, none of them are airborne at the moment. In fact, no mining operations are apparent. It's as if they were shut down the instant we were detected."

"Fine. Helm, go into orbital insert now. Maintain battle stations."

Nothing untoward happened the first time they passed over the alien settlement where the wounded Wannstead ship lay but as they approached on the second orbit, Jergens spoke up.

"Captain, we're being pinged in three different wave lengths. And I think they're locking in on one of them."

"Keep our shields up full. Can our EW phase it out?"

"No, sir. It's like they're trying to sight in on us and ...they're firing!"

Every screen in the control room brightened for a second then turned black for a moment as they dampened to avoid excess radiation.

"Return fire. Pulser and rail gun," Keane said immediately.

Jergens' computer wizardry had automatically tracked the source of the powerful energy beam as the magnetic shield of
Doc Travis
repulsed it. He doubted if it would have been quite as effective had an alien ship been armed with that type weapon and used it in space without an intervening atmosphere.

Commander Mundahan fired the pumped-up laser cannon, blasting a temporary hole in the planet's atmosphere before pulses of sun-hot plasma automatically ejected from the
Doc Travis
plasma coil followed lance of energy to the surface. A boiling eruption of orange-white fire blasted debris away from the target area. Simultaneously, a shudder rippled through the ship causing a brief moment of apprehension until those who had forgotten realized it was
Doc Travis'
rail gun causing the tremor. Even if it the view screen didn't indicate a field to scatter the plasma, hardly anything could stop the simple but deadly rail gun slugs. The source that had fired on the ship was being decimated.

Keane ignored the rumbling rail guns firing in sequence and watched his screen, where the telescopic images were faithfully relaying information. Explosions visible to the naked eye, had anyone been outside the ship to see, blasted the offending site as rail gun slugs exploded on impact, carving a path of destruction through the alien settlement. The atmosphere above it filled with grey dust and burning ashes.

"Cease fire! Fred, are they still pinging?"

"No, sir. I'm getting nothing now."

"Good. We'll be out of range in a couple of minutes."

After two more orbits Keane decided to land but he put the ship down fifty kilometers away from the settlement and sent a single assault shuttle with a full load of marines to investigate. A second shuttle stood by to assist if needed. They had met their first aliens and survived, a much better result than their Chinese counterparts. However, the action had given them a glimpse of what must have happened to the other Wannstead ships. It left a big worry in his mind, though. It was evident that the city below, while not even half finished, still had formidable defenses. How would
Doc Travis
fare against a fully functional colony? Keane pondered that and knew things would only get tougher on Xanadu. He decided the best course of action would be to get word out to the
Santa Cruz
and then try obtaining more data from the planet before moving on. Keane hoped they hadn't destroyed too much- he needed more intelligence, or better yet, an alien to interrogate. Which meant it was time for the U.S. Marines.

***

Barbara Zembra snapped the safety harness into place on her shuttle seat while thinking that she finally fully understood the reasons for the prohibition of personal relationships with another in the chain of command. Had either she or Bullet been in that position she knew she would have worried herself sick over him and vice versa. As it was, they each had their own jobs in their own squads and probably wouldn't even notice each other if the assault shuttle ran into a combat situation. They would be too busy for worry. She was already tense as the craft rolled down the ramp from the hanger and into position where its thrusters were pointed away from the mother ship.

She felt her body being shoved back into the seat as the shuttle ignited its main thrusters in a blast of sound and fury as it reached for altitude. It was hardly in the air before it leveled off and picked up speed, staying not many meters above the canopy of the tall thin shafts of green and brown growth. It seemed as if they had hardly gotten started when she was flung against the straps holding her when the shuttle decelerated violently. It thumped to a stop at a slight tilt. She thumbed the harness loose while the shuttle combat covers, two on each side, snapped open and locked into place. Bright sunlight caused her eyes to squint until her combat helmet polarized into acceptable transparency.

"First squad, second squad, up and at 'em," Platoon Sergeant Julio Martinez shouted over the same cry of Jeeta Suharto, his counterpoint in the other platoon. "Third Squad, out and cover."

Like well-oiled machinery, the marines bolted from the shuttle and ranged out toward their objective, the central spire of the alien settlement. Two squads advanced, the third covered the spire, and a heavy weapons squad brought up the rear, ready for instant set-up when and if needed. In the front and top of the shuttle, the heavy weapons were also manned. The pilot and co-pilot stayed in place, ready to move in support if necessary.

Barbara ran through the heavy, knee-high growth that clung to her boots almost like glue as she slogged through them. The moment she heard and saw opposing fire she stopped and searched for targets. Her job at the moment wasn't quite as dangerous as most. She was a sniper. Her heavy caliber rifle would punch holes through a half inch of steel from a mile away. She saw an alien as it rose above a covering bundle of construction material and quickly sighted in. The recoil thumped against her shoulder, surprising her as it always did. The alien, a being shaped like a short fat brown caterpillar, flew backward with a hole the size of a saucer near its top end.
Green blood
, she thought abstractly.

Another Worm came into her sights and fell as quickly as the first but with far more gore.
Must've hit something slushy
, she told herself aloud. This was her first combat of any kind. She was amazed at how calm she felt. It was almost like training except the opponents had never been big brown caterpillars. Dangerous ones, too, she saw as a fiery streak of ionized air hit near a duo of marines who were running toward new positions. One fell screaming from the impact of a tiny ball of plasma. The other went on and dropped to earth behind a half finished wall.

The marines advanced as slowly or as fast as circumstances dictated, led by their sergeants and directed by the two platoon officers. After the first few clashes with the aliens it became obvious that the marines were vastly superior when it came to ground combat. The "Worms", as they almost automatically began calling them, seemed not to have an idea of how to fight in close quarters. Once their plasma cannons from the central city were taken out, the battle was for all practical purposes over. Which didn't mean there weren't more marines who fell. The Worms were armed with personal weapons which fired small bits of plasma. A hit on the torso of a marine usually meant instant death even through their armor. But if the Worms didn't know how to fight, they also had little notion of how to surrender, either. They had to be dug out of half-finished underground quarters, routed from positions where they had cover, and shot even after they were wounded because likely as not they would fight on until dead.

It was grueling urban combat, the worst kind for infantry but it could have been much worse had the Worms any real notion of what they were facing. Marines were trained for that type of fighting-the Worms were not. The result was never in doubt. It would have been even easier had there not been robots assisting the Worms, two different kinds, a large one almost as big as a Worm and a smaller one only about half the size. The robots were mixed in with the Worms but used the same kind of weapons, something between a handgun and rifle that fired energy bolts.

Dan Bullet hardly worried about Barbara after the defeat became so obvious, but in any case toward the last he got orders that concentrated his mind. His squad was told to move at a dead run toward a position at the edge of a heavily shrouded but blackened tree line. It was near the central city area at the edge of near total destruction where the plasma cannon had been. A large group of Worms was attacking the second squad, coming up from beneath the city, and they needed reinforcements quickly. The second shuttle had been sent in to land behind them and try plugging the exit point while Bullet's squad would reinforce and try to keep them from being overrun. They were going to be heavily outnumbered but were the only group near enough to pull it off.

"We want prisoners!"
He heard the order over his com and cursed, as did most of the others with him.

"You heard the boss," Platoon Sergeant Martinez said. "Dig in quick! They'll be here in two shakes. Let's thin 'em out some first before worrying about prisoners."

Damn straight
, Bullet thought. He checked his ammo packs and got ready while wondering how in hell one went about taking prisoners of an enemy that showed no inclination to surrender-but orders were orders. And he certainly agreed with the idea of taking down a good many of them before worrying about capturing any. He got a poor excuse for a fighting hole ready just in time to meet the first of the swarming horde. His first crazy thought was that it looked like something out of a science program, like devouring insects intent on snuffing out all life in their path, but then it came into perspective.

Charging Worms grew in size until he could see them firing their short stubby rifles and then they suddenly became the enemy, something to kill. They rushed toward him with no attempt to use cover. He felt alone, as if every single one of them were coming to kill him and no one else. For an instant he froze. Then a burst of machine gun fire to his left startled him back into awareness.
This is going to get real messy
, he thought.

Bullet braced his rifle on the edge of his hole and concentrated on firing as accurately as possible, given the need to put out as much firepower as possible at the same time. His hole was in the forefront. He knew he was going to be overrun before it happened. A surge of fear gripped him in the guts, making him want to get up and run. Only the fact that his squad mates were showing no signs of bugging out kept him in place. The situation gave
bugging out
a whole new meaning. He didn't know what kept them standing firm but it was enough. So long as they stayed, he would stay and die with them.

He emptied three clips in rapid succession and was sliding another home when the leading wave of Worms reached him. In his haste, the clip slid from his hand. He rose to his feet, knocked a Worm rifle aside and stabbed at it with his bayoneted rifle. Green gore poured from the hole it made. He slid the bayonet out and swung the rifle butt like a club, caving in the head of another Worm all the way down to its mandibles.

Another Worm, apparently out of ammunition just like he was, grabbed him with all four manipulating appendages and dragged him toward its mouth part. Its mandibles clattered in anticipation while he struggled to keep away from them, thinking wildly that they had too many arms and legs.
It's not fair!
That was his last coherent thought before being punched in the side with a pile driver. His armor collapsed from the force of the impact and the breath went from his body. He curled up in a fetal position, trying to get away from the agony in his side and waited to die.
I'm sorry Barb ...
he thought. Blackness descended.

Chapter Eleven: War Plans

One of the serious problems in planning the fight against American doctrine, is that the Americans do not read their manuals, nor do they feel any obligation to follow their doctrine...
- From a Soviet Junior Army Lieutenant

M.I. does the dying. Fleet just does the flying. -
Johnny Rico, Starship Troopers

Major Rambling had his headquarters set up near the remnants of the energy weapon that had fired on
Doc Travis
. There wasn't much left of the emplacement but ruins, half-filling a large hole in the ground that was still emitting tendrils of smoke and small, flickering flames. A thick base wall that had been in the process of construction provided a perfect barrier against stray slugs or the plasma beams of energy from the weapons used by the worms. He had already ordered some of them gathered and sent back to the shuttles. He wanted them for study and possible future use by his own forces.

A few stragglers and strays among the Worms were still fighting but the latest report said they would be hunted down and eliminated soon. He tapped out of his com and decided to take a few minutes to visit the casualties. There weren't many because any marine hit in the body usually died. The Worms had fought strenuously but badly. It was simply their numerical superiority that kept the battle going as long as it had. That and a number of robots, artificial intelligences he thought, about half the size of the Worms, that had been mixed in with the last of the defenders. He'd had to bring both heavy weapons squads up to take them out and they had caused more casualties than he liked to think about before being silenced. Still, it was the lack of organization and planning on the part of the Worms that contributed most to the victory, he thought. It seemed strange. The energy gun that fired on their ship had certainly been ready. If it had been much more powerful the results could have been disastrous.