On Silver Wings (13 page)

“Perhaps if we had more time...” Silvia ventured, leaning forward. “We might be able to calculate the location of the weapon from its effect when it is fired.”

“That’s a little late, Doctor...” Gates growled.

“It’s a start,” Harris snapped, “Take what you can get, Admiral. I know it goes against the grain, but this will take time.”

“Time is in precious short commodity now, Doctor. The Cheyenne Class Hulls will be beginning their orbital return track to our slips in less than three weeks. We’re going to need the very best of everything to pack into them, and it’s your jobs to make sure we have it.”

The men and women around the table glared at him with various levels of openness, but Gates just smiled grimly.

“And it’s my job to make you do your jobs. Am I quite clear?”

*****

Hayden’s World

Golems

It was the only word to describe the things she was now seeing as Sorilla crouched in the crook of a tree at the edge of the protective jungle. Another two weeks had passed, bringing more people into the fold as the Pathfinders located more refugees surviving to various degrees out in the jungle.

Silver and his ‘kids’ had swelled their numbers of trained jungle people, and since they’d established contact with them Sorilla had been spending half her time teaching them about jungle combat while they taught her about Hayden’s jungles. The other half was spent out on the fringes of the jungle like she was now, watching for what she’d finally found.

The main city on Hayden was located in the center of a hundred kilometer diameter plateau that rose over the jungle that surrounded it. The colony had anchored the orbital tether and begun their buildup in the relatively sparse foliage that grew on the barren and rocky surface. She had been able to make her way in toward the center shortly after landing, but since her reception then she and the Pathfinders had begun circling around the rim of the crater looking for more signs of the ‘ghosts’ existence.

The ten foot tall lumbering Golems fit the bill, in her estimation.

“Motherless Void.” Dean Simmons whispered, shaking his head. “What are those things?”

She glanced sharply back at him, but the young man wasn’t looking even remotely in her direction. In fairness she didn’t really blame him, the Golems were something to see. There were five of them just a few hundred meters away, apparently clearing back the jungle below them. It was the first time she’d had a chance to calmly observe the enemy, or an aspect of the enemy at least, in action.

“Golems,” she replied quietly, using the term for the things they’d all settled on. It fit the bill, of course, looking like nothing more than an animate pile of rocks.

There was more down there than the Golems, though. Sorilla blinked her eyes, activating the liquid lenses that floated over her eyes and had her implants dial up the surface tension until the magnification placed her right on top of the moving things below. In addition to the ten foot monsters the colonials had begun calling Golems, she could see smaller maybe four foot versions moving around the feet of their bigger brothers. Mentally she dubbed them Goblins and started a new file in her processor.

Both types were working, not fighting or patrolling. The larger Golems would clear the jungle back while the smaller Goblins policed the debris that resulted from the overall operation.

“What are they doing?”

Sorilla glanced back again, just catching sight of Dean in her peripheral vision where the liquid lens didn’t magnify her vision. The young man had a lot to learn about patience, they’d only been there for a little over a day, and with all the activity going on Sorilla figured they were good to stick around for at least several. She looked back to the activity, watching as she considered the young man’s question. It wasn’t a dumb question by any stretch of the imagination, in fact she was wondering the same thing herself. If he’d waited until they were out of the area she wouldn’t have thought twice about starting a serious discussion about it.

Finally she sighed softly, “They’re clearing the ground, probably in preparation for installing another defense point.”

“Oh.” Dean said, blinking. “How can you tell?”

“Dean,” She sighed, “Are you usually this noisy when hunting?”

Dean blinked, “Well yeah... if we can scare away the animals all the better.”

“Kid, these targets don’t run away if they hear you, ok? They come in with guns blazing, trying to kill us.”

He shrank back, blinking. “Oh. Yeah.”

Sorilla turned her focus back to the activity, sighing silently. There wasn’t a hunter on Earth who would think the way the kid did, but this wasn’t Earth. Here on Hayden you only killed animals if they were a threat to human operations, so if they ran off due to noise you’d accomplished your goal without firing a shot. Hunting for food was a generational tradition, passed down from Father to Son in most cultures, and it encompassed many of the skills a Guerilla warrior needed. Here, though there was a generational break. One didn’t hunt for food on a world where you couldn’t eat the local game. Dean and the others were skilled jungle men, but hunters and guerilla fighters they were not. She found herself wishing for some real jungle warfighters, just a small handful to help her establish a cadre of Hayden born warriors.

A few hours later, though, she had to admit that the kid learned. He was still fidgeting, nervous or impatient, but he’d shut his mouth and not opened again so far. That was a plus, now if she could just figure something for him and the others to do. The Golems were entirely invulnerable to small arms fire, and only barely vulnerable to her own assault weapon. Given that she held the only military issued weapon in their possession, they’d have to be creative.

“You think you can find your way back to camp, kid?”

She glanced back to see him looking at her, his expression insulted.

“Of course.”

“I want you to head back and bring Jerry and a half dozen of the best Jungle men in camp. Tell them to bring up saws, axes, and rope. You get that? Saws, axes, and rope.” She said sternly.

He nodded, but she shook her head. “Repeat it back.”

“Saws, axes and rope. Half a dozen good jungle men.” he said calmly.

“Good, now before you go, hand me your rifle.” She reached out a hand.

He looked puzzled, but handed his .300 Magnum weapon to her. She took it, cleared the chamber automatically, and checked the fittings. “What’s the zero?”

“Three hundred meters.”

She nodded, accepting that since she didn’t have time to zero it in herself, nor the opportunity for that matter. She popped the cap off the scopes and chambered a round as she leaned down against the rim of the crater wall. The Golems and their diminutive Goblin compatriots had closed a little in the hours she had watched them, and her implants range finding software put them at just over five hundred meters. She sighted them in, blinking away the liquid lens over her own eyes, and laid her eyes against the scope.

Panning the narrow field of view over the moving targets below she took her time, picking through the alien constructs that had invaded this human world. Finally she had her choice, the crosshairs centering over it as she made an adjustment for the wind.

“Get ready to boogey, kid.” She said softly, taking in a calming breath.

She held it, the rifle pausing between her heartbeats, then let it out until her abdomen was relaxed. Seconds ticked by like minutes and then, between the beats of her heart, she squeezed the trigger.

The rifle roared, sending its 220 grain round out at just over three thousand meters per second. It thumped back into her shoulder harder than her own more powerful assault weapon, but she just accepted it as she kept her eyes on the target. This was one time when she had to hold her position just a little longer than she’d prefer.

The heavy hunting round slammed into the Goblin a few moments later, sending a shower of shards into the air as it kicked the smaller thing off its feet. Immediately the others twisted around, looking right up at her position. Sorilla’s eyes widened in revelation as her stomach jumped into her throat.

“Oh hell.” She whispered, “move!”

“What!?” Dean asked, surprised and confused.

“Move it, kid! We’ve got to boogey out of here!”

She tossed his rifle into his arms, then kicked off the lip of the crater and bolted for the jungle with one hand gripping the back of his neck. He scrambled along with her, glancing back, “Our food! We left the food and the field gear...!”

“Leave it!” She yanked hard on him, pushing him ahead of her. “Run!”

He got his feet under him, pounding through the thickening jungle as Sorilla watched the timer she’d automatically set. Thirty seconds had passed, and still no response. It didn’t make sense to her. She’d seen the reaction, they had pinpointed her position almost instantly. An American armored unit could pinpoint a sniper that fast, and when they did the Sniper almost invariably died a few seconds later.

Perhaps they didn’t have the artillery capacity to...

A flash lit the area in front of them like the bulb of a thousand cameras had gone off, and Sorilla’s mind boggled in disbelief.

No one would do that. Would they?

While her mind was boggling, however, her body was reacting. She lunged forward, tackling Dean off his feet and they both went down, tumbling along the ground as she pushed them behind one of the large boulders that dotted this section of the Hayden jungle and covered Dean with her own body as she clapped her hands over her ears.

The shockwave tore the leaves from the jungle trees above and around them, just ripping them off in an instant. The wind beat at them as they cowered behind the boulder, feeling like a hot hurricane whipping around them. Debris tore through the jungle, ripping trees apart and flattening lesser vegetation to the ground. Then, for a moment everything was still and silent.

“What...!?” Dean started to look up, but Sorilla shoved his head back down.

“Stay down! Not done!”

It wasn’t either. As the moment of silence passed the wind picked up again, this time from the other side as it howled past them, pelting them with smaller debris and even burning chunks of wood and random debris. Sorilla hissed in pain as something nailed her shoulder, but she kept her head down and covered even as she made certain Dean did the same.

Ears ringing, they looked up a moment later to the skeletal remnants of the jungle around them, smoking limbs hanging off some of the surviving trees. Dean looked around, confused and stunned.

“What was that!?” He yelled.

Sorilla looked over her shoulder, then grabbed his arm, “Tactical nuke.”

“What!?”

She looked sharply at him, then winced as she spotted blood running from his ears. She held his head so he was looking at her and waved away from the rim of the crater. “We have to run!”

He blinked at her, shaking his head.

“Run!” She yelled again, “We run!”

He finally nodded as she pulled him along, and they finally broke into a run toward the safety of the green jungle ahead of them. As they ran, Sorilla was sorting the intelligence she’d managed to gather.

First, the smaller Goblins were susceptible to small arms fire. That was good, however the enemy had a VERY hostile response to sniper threats.

Not so good.

She tried to shake her head clear, she’d have to take Dean back now, she couldn’t send him off through the jungle in his current state. He’d obviously blown his ear drums in the concussion of the blast, and his state of mind was in question for the moment as well. She’d have to gather the men and gear she needed and hope to be able to find the Golems and Goblins again.

Just before they penetrated the living jungle, she paused to glance back at the rim of the crater where she had hidden. The rock was smoking, a hole carved out of the rim told her that they’d targeted just below the rim. That had probably saved them, she thought, sheltering them from behind the rock of the rim itself as well as the boulder and several dozen meters of jungle. It hadn’t been a huge blast either, but the flash was unmistakable.

So was the sound of rocks and boulders as they continued to crash down into the jungle around them, only falling from the sky now, several minutes after the initial blast.

Who are these people
?

She couldn’t help but ask herself that over and over again. No nation on Earth would ever consider popping off a nuke, even a small one, to take out a damned sniper. The term overkill came to mind, despite the common military axiom that there was no such thing. Of course, as it hadn’t actually killed her, perhaps it was underkill after all.

Very damned expensive underkill, in terms of munitions and damage to the local area however.

She pushed the thought from her mind and kept focused on Dean as she pushed him through the jungle ahead of her. Her shoulder was hurting, but it wasn’t too bad. If Dean could make it back to camp under his own power at least she’d be spared the strain of carrying him. In the meantime, she could feel Bugs kicking in, and with a little luck the spreading warmth would keep her joint from tightening up on her.

At least, she supposed, she’d have some interesting data to send back to the reconnaissance satellite on its next pass.

A few shocked cries brought Tara from her shelter, blinking into the sunlight that streamed through the jungle above as she looked around. Her eyes widened as she saw Sorilla push young Dean Simmons ahead of her, sending him staggering almost drunkenly. A sharp comment rose to her lips until she saw the look in Sorilla’s eyes and the slow, deliberate measure of her step.

“Oh lord.” She muttered, ducking back inside to fetch the medical kit that she had ‘inherited’ from the soldier. A moment later she rushed out, grabbing two of the stunned onlookers as she ran. “Jason, Tom, grab them!”

The two men shook their heads clear and followed her, grabbing Dean before he could fall to his knees. Tara stopped at his side, checking his pupils first, then noticed the dry blood that ran down the side of his head and neck from his ears. “Oh heavens. What happened?”