Atlas (26 page)

When things calmed down a bit, I noticed that the two scientists had their heads bowed inside their helmets. I checked their vitals on my HUD (Heads-Up-Display). They were unconscious.

"Sir, the scientists," I told Chief Bourbonjack.

"I see it
,
" the Chief said. "Take care of them after we secure the site."

The turbulence increased for a few moments, then finally ceased entirely. "We're through," Mordecai said. "It's all smooth sailing here on in, folks. Heading for the outpost."

Through the window, the sun illumed a jagged landscape of shiny obsidian. The black rock ranged as far as the eye could see.

"Looks homey," Trace said from beside me.

A few minutes later the MDV did a quick pass-over of the outpost and I caught a glimpse of the mirrorlike domes and the can-shaped passageways that connected them.

Mordecai landed us in the relative center of the outpost. Through the window I recognized the courtyard from the earlier briefing: Domes and connecting passageways surrounded the MDV on all sides.

Chief Bourbonjack straightened up. "TJ, report."

"HS3's report all clear, Chief," TJ said
.

Chief Bourbonjack looked down the ranks. "Prepare to deploy to the alleyway indicated on your six."

I pulled up the map on my HUD and saw the alleyway highlighted in blue.

The MDV's ramp folded down and my shoulder and waist latches clicked open.

"Trace, Fret, Bender, Big Dog, give me a defensive perimeter on the MDV!" Chief Bourbonjack said.

The designated troops sprinted outside.

"Everyone else deploy to the alleyway! Deploy deploy deploy!"

I was the second-last out. I ran forward at a crouch, staying close to Alejandro, my "buddy" for the mission. I kept a watchful eye on the nearest dome, slightly distracted by the platoon's reflection on its surface. I was looking for any sign of enemy fire. I saw movement on my three: One of the spherical HS3 drones, acting as a scout.

I ducked into the alley—a small space between two of the domes—and dropped, taking my place near the back of the group. Crouched at the entrance to the alleyway, Ghost and Facehopper covered the MDV.

I heard a sonic boom, then a cloud of dust erupted from behind one of the domes on the left. Another sonic boom, another cloud, this time further off in the distance, on the right. The HS3 scout spun off toward the nearest cloud, and I switched to its viewpoint.

The two-meter tall form of an ATLAS 5 emerged from the cloud. Gatling guns mechanically swung into the armed position on either hand. The augmented reality label "Lui - Aphid" floated in green above the mech.

I switched back to my own view, glad
to have the mechs on
our
side.

Each of us reported "all clear" over the comm line. I saw two more streaks in the sky then, which marked the payload elements that were launched after the ATLAS 5s. These contained the jetpacks the mechs would need to return to the ship. Nothing I need concern myself with. That was the domain of Lui and Manic.

"Site secure," Facehopper said.

I hurried to the MDV to check on the scientists. They were awake, and responded well to the brief mental status exam I gave them. Satisfied that they didn't need any further attention, I returned outside.

All the men were gathered around Chief Bourbonjack, though most of them kept their eyes on the domes and interconnecting passageways of the outpost.

"Report, Rade," Chief Bourbonjack said.

"The scientists are a bit shaken up, but otherwise ready to go."

"Good." He glanced at TJ. "Have all the Centurions checked-in?"

TJ nodded. "They've done three random sweeps of every single compartment. Place is as abandoned as you can get."

"I want all the buildings checked again," Chief Bourbonjack said, glancing at Facehopper. "I'll be damned if I trust some robot."

"Got it, Chief." Facehopper turned toward the rest of the platoon. "Ghost, Trace, and Big Dog, provide moving overwatch of the sweep. You pick the hide. Rade, Alejandro and Tahoe, you provide overwatch on the scientists and the MDV. Your hide is the roof of that silo over there."

I looked at the building indicated. A cylindrical structure. It might have been a silo of some kind, maybe for grain.

"Yes sir!" I ran at top speed toward the smaller dome beside the silo. When I came close, I leaped, activating my jumpjets with a mental command. The boost from the jet sent me to the roof of the dome. As my foot made contact, I bent my knees and pushed off, activating the jets again. I landed on top of the silo and dropped.

Alejandro and Tahoe were right behind me. They scaled the silo just as expertly (Tahoe took a more direct route by firing his jumpjets twice in a row, straight up, while Alejandro followed my path) and settled in beside me. Alejandro and I kept watch on the MDV through our scopes while Tahoe guarded our backs.

I watched my teammates fan across the square in two groups. The nearest fire team converged beside an airlock. The lead man activated the release, and returned to his position against the wall as the hatch opened. He "pied" the entrance, slowly stepping away from the wall, keeping his gun trained inside the airlock and moving in a semicircle, or "pie" pattern, increasing his angle of view. Then he gave the all-clear and all four piled in, closing the airlock behind them. If things got hot past that inner airlock, they'd be piling out of there just as fast.

I saw a glint of metal in the distance, and backtracked on my scope.

It was just one of the Centurion robots, on patrol over on the west side of the outpost. A spheroidal HS3 drone joined it.

"Anything?" Alejandro said.

"Negative. You?"

"Nada."

Movement drew my eye skyward, and I saw the Raptor drone fly past at 15,000 meters. It was operating in full stealth mode, and made no sound at all. If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have even known it was there.

Nearby, the white-hot globe of the alien sun shone its yellow light down upon us. It was about the size of my fist, and whenever I looked at it, the photochromic polycarbonate in my facemask instantly darkened.

I waited with Alejandro, prostrate on the rooftop, keeping watch on the MDV as the scientists started to setup their survey equipment.

"Chief," I sent directly to Chief Bourbonjack on a private line. "Do the scientists have permission to setup?"

My words were met with silence, and I knew that the Chief was checking with the Lieutenant Commander. Or maybe arguing with him, given how long it was taking him to respond. Finally: "Roger that, Mr. Galaal."

Mordecai, our pilot, was sitting down on the ramp of the MDV, M4 rifle in one gloved hand. In front of him, both of the scientists were bending far forward to unfold some sort of retractable antennae on their equipment.

"How's the view from down there, Mordecai?"
I subvocalized to the pilot. "Bet you wish you passed BSD/M."

He gave me the finger.

"What did you say?" Tahoe said.

I chuckled. "Nothing. Just asking him if he liked the view. I might have teased him about failing MOTH training."

"Oh you're a bad man," Alejandro said, voice dripping with irony. "A bad bad man. Though actually I wouldn't mind being down there right now. That scientist on the right? Bet she has a sweet behind. Even suited up, you know what I'm saying?"

About an hour later Facehopper ordered us down and we reconvened with the rest of the team.

"Well, the SKs sure left this place in a hurry," Facehopper said. "Meals half-eaten in the mess hall, beds left unmade, closets fully stocked with gear and clothes."

Chief Bourbonjack was rubbing the lower part of his facemask. "Any leads? Rad trails?"

Fret pointed to the east, beyond the mirrorlike silo where I'd perched with Tahoe and Alejandro. "Found a strong rad trail at the edge of the outpost. SK signature. About eight months old." Atomic-powered machines always left a radiation signature, and unless it was cleaned, anyone with the proper equipment could track it. "TJ had an HS3 follow the trail. Looks like it leads to one of their Geronium excavation sites. TJ has the Raptor patrolling the area now."

Chief Bourbonjack glanced at TJ.

Our drone operator shrugged. "Looks clear, Chief."

"How far?"

"Two klicks," TJ said.

The Chief nodded. "We should really take the MDV." He glanced at the scientists. "You two. How easy is it to move all that equipment you've set up?"

The first scientist shook her head. "Not easy at all. We've already started drilling. It would take at least an hour to pack everything up again. That's an hour we could spend getting core samples. The sooner we finish, the sooner everyone goes home." There were tubes and wires running from the survey equipment back to the MDV. It was pretty obvious that you couldn't move one without packing up the other.

"Damn." The Chief gazed longingly at the MDV, then bit his lip. "Guess we'll go on foot." He surveyed the rest of the
platoon. "We move out in five. Facehopper, get 'em ready. I'll be on the comm with the Commander." He walked up the ramp and into the MDV.

Facehopper had us all recharge our oxygen tanks and jetpacks, courtesy of the MDV's inventory. Neither scientist had a jetpack, but Facehopper had them refill their O2 supplies too.

When the five minutes were up, Chief Bourbonjack wasted no time in organizing the platoon.

"Bomb and Fret, you're staying behind with Mordecai to guard the MDV and scientists."

"Yes sir."

"The rest of you are coming on our little walk. Facehopper, if you would?"

"Traveling overwatch formation," Facehopper said. "Two squads, seven men each. ATLAS 5s on point. Heavy gunners on drag."

He proceeded to divide the
platoon into two squads. I was in the lead squad, whose members, from front to back, included: Manic, Snakeoil, Facehopper, Bender, Alejandro, me, and Big Dog. In the second squad were Lui, Tahoe, Chief Bourbonjack, Trace, TJ, Ghost and Skullcracker.

The labels above each member of the platoon updated to reflect the new squad level designations, prefixing the letters S1 or S2 to the front of each name, depending on which squad they were part of. We also had a new squad-level comm assigned, so we could send messages only to those in squad one or two if we wanted.

Before leaving, I considered dropping off most of my gear at the MDV, but decided to keep it. I just hoped all those extra grenades and magazines didn't slow me down, but I figured the strength-boost from the jumpsuit would more than compensate for the extra weight.

We used our jetpacks to quickly travel over the domes to the outer section of the outpost, where the buildings were set further apart, and then we started the eastward march into the barren landscape.

The entire area sat on the shoulders of a mountain range, and the digital coloration on my jumpsuit darkened to match the loose, rocky shale at my feet—it wasn't obsidian, as I had thought during the descent, but those rocks were still ink black.

I heard the unified trod of five polycarbonate feet as the Centurions sprinted past, led by a Praetor command unit. My finger involuntarily reached for the trigger on my rifle.

"Rest tight people
,
" Facehopper sent over the S1 line. "Chief had TJ deploy the bots in a scouting capacity, is all."

A few seconds later an Equestrian tank rolled by in hot pursuit, its treads crushing the shale. Five HS3s hovered alongside.

I saw Alejandro start in front of me. "Where the hell did that come from?" he said.

"It dropped with the Centurions," Facehopper said. "Keep the comm chatter to a minimum, please, people."

Approximately three hundred meters ahead the robots slowed to match our pace and then spread out. The hull of the Equestrian, and the clothing of the Centurions had changed coloration to match the terrain. The robots were damn hard to make out. I hoped the platoon melded into the background just as well.

In each squad, every person was situated five meters from the next in a zigzag line. Twenty-five meters separated the dragman of the first squad, Big Dog, from the pointman of the second squad, Lui (in Aphid). The separation ensured that an enemy would have difficulty attacking the entire
platoon at once, and limited the effectiveness of mass-casualty weapons such as grenades or rockets that might be launched against us. Plus the formation allowed one squad to "overwatch" the other, hence the name.

Like
the jumpsuits, the metallic skins of Aphid and Ladybug had changed colors to match the terrain. Both ATLAS 5s had also deployed their ballistic shields, which were these long translucent shells in the left hands that ran from the base of the mechs to just above their heads and protected against armor-piercing rounds. The shields used up a weapon slot, effectively taking away half the firepower of each mech.

You know that feeling of dread I had before on the ship, deep down inside me? It was completely gone. I guess all I needed to do was get into action, and finally deploy. It helped that I was surrounded by men who knew how to kill, and weren't afraid to do it.