Steel World (43 page)

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Authors: B. V. Larson

BOOK: Steel World
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When he went down, he thrashed for a moment. I found myself pinned under him. Something hit my head, and my helmet dented and the faceplate shattered.

I laid there on my back, under a thousand pounds of shivering reptile. My breath came in ragged gasps. The jugger had stopped breathing altogether.

I tried to move. I tried to free myself, but I couldn’t. My com-link was either broken or there wasn’t anyone listening.

After a period of struggling, I paused and listened.

The battlefield was quiet now. I couldn’t hear a thing, even with my visor gone and the open wet heat of Steel World’s night air rolling into my face.

I don’t know how long I laid there. It might have been an hour or ten minutes. When you’re trapped under a mass of flesh, it warps your perspective.

Finally, however, I saw something new. Lights glimmered and played over the ground around Bunker Five. I blinked and recognized the vehicle. It was an air car—a nice shiny one that reminded me of rich, snotty aliens.

Could it be the Galactics? Or maybe the Nairbs? It made sense either way. They were inspecting the damage, tallying the count. Who had left more bodies on this bloody field, now that it was over, them or us?

I felt an urge to do something. Not so much to get rescued—I didn’t really expect them to care about me one way or another. But I wanted them to know my side wasn’t out of this yet.

I reached down and drew my sidearm. It wasn’t much, sort of like a snap-rifle with less power, range or accuracy. But it did fire pellets when you needed a last-ditch weapon.

Very carefully, I sighted on the air car. I squeezed the trigger four times—maybe five.

Orange sparks pinged off the bottom of the ship. I knew I’d hit it at least. It wasn’t enough to damage the vehicle, just to get their attention.

The response came about a second later. The air car wobbled then lifted rapidly. I smiled. Maybe it had been the Galactics after all. They’d been shot down before, and quite possibly they were gun-shy today.

I relaxed and considered passing out. But I wanted to see what was going to happen, so I held on to consciousness with an effort of will. The weight of what amounted to a dead dinosaur lying over a third of my body made every breath a struggle. Already, my feet were numb. I knew I wasn’t going to last the night.

Stealthily, the air car returned. I opened one eye and wondered if I’d been dozing. Was I dreaming now?

No. The air car played a quiet light over my part of the courtyard. Everything was still. A few bodies twitched now and again, a testament to the raw vigor of these reptiles. They often moved and tremored hours after their apparent deaths.

I could see the light only because a scrap of my shattered night vision visor was still operating. It caught the gleam of their lights, showing them as a soft green glow. I wasn’t sure if they were using infrared or what, but it was catching the attention of my dying suit.

I lifted the pistol again. So as not to frighten the weasels, I shot a few bullets in the air when their light touched me. They had to be able to detect that.

They did. The light stopped drifting and focused upon me. I wondered if it was burning my retinas like any infrared laser—but I was too tired and injured to care.

I dropped my pistol to my side and lifted my gloved hand to wave at them. Then, I gave them the finger. Vigorously.

The beam seemed to study me for a full minute. I grew tired of shaking my middle finger at them, so I let my hand fall to my side. I was getting sleepy again, but I didn’t want to miss whatever happened next so I struggled to stay awake.

Slowly, cautiously, the air car drifted closer. I watched with vague interest, feeling a little light-headed.

Finally, the ship landed nearby, and the hatch opened. A familiar shape emerged.

It was a Nairb. It had to be—either that, or someone had taught a terrestrial seal to fly and painted it a globular green.

I considered shooting the alien, I really did. I wasn’t in my best of moods. These guys had a lot of gall, floating around counting bodies. They never died for their planet. They sat in posh offices and made snooty judgments about other people they barely understood.

But, sadly, my own better judgment kicked in. I simply waited as the creature approached.

A translator box clicked and rasped.

“You are a human combatant?”

“Yes,” I said. My voice sounded weak, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “Yes! I’m Recruit McGill, of Legion Varus. Please be careful, there is a battle in progress.”

The Nairb cocked its head and looked around for a moment. “The battle has ended.”

“For the moment,” I said, “but although the saurians have been defeated time and again, they always seem to come back.”

The Nairb studied me. Another of its kind slithered out of the air car. They spoke together. I gathered they were debating the situation. I lay quietly on my back under the crushing weight of the lizard. I figured that whether I was about to die or not, I’d at least managed to upset the meticulous plans of the Nairbs one more time. That was worth a lot to me.

“I’m sorry,” I said loudly. “I can’t guarantee your safety if you stay here any longer. As I said, this is a dangerous region.”

“There must be some mistake,” said the second Nairb, speaking to me for the first time. “Your challengers claimed victory some time ago. They left the field victorious.”

“Ha!” I said. “Indeed, there has been a mistake. We’ve beaten them time and again. It is a common tactic with losers who wish to save face: retreat and claim victory.”

More chatter went back and forth between the two. I tried to shift into a more comfortable position but was unable to do so. Finally, they returned their attention to me.

“You are not a legal combatant. You are disabled.”

“Not so. I’m pinned under a fallen enemy, that’s true, but I’m not dead. I’m still dangerous. I shot your air car, didn’t I?”

“Demonstrate your status. Mobility is required to be considered able-bodied.”

He had me there, and I knew it. My mind was foggy, but it managed to come up with a card to play.

“Remove this corpse from my person,” I said, “and I’ll show you what I’m capable of.”

They chatted about that for a time, then returned to their ship. I called after them, and as their air car floated upward, I drew my pistol again. I cursed them for leaving me for dead.

Just as I was about to fire again, aiming for the windows this time—something happened. I felt a tug at the mass of dead flesh that held me down.

A few more seconds passed, and the tug grew stronger. I felt myself being pulled with it. I howled with pain. The jugger lifted into the air. How were they doing this? Some kind of focused force field? Some of our troops had shields, but this was something different. The Nairbs were a rich folk indeed.

Just as quickly as the field had grown and gripped me, it let go. The body of the dead jugger slipped away from me. I fell on my face. My feet wouldn’t hold me. I was on my knees, panting, freed but in agony. My pulse pounded in my head and purple splotches darkened my vision. I was close to passing out, I could feel it.

I gasped like a fish in a boat. I tried to control my breathing and gently rolled myself into a sitting position.

I found the two Nairbs staring at me. They studied me with interest.

“It’s moving.”

“That proves nothing,” the translator rasped, interpreting their speech.

I put my hands under me and lifted myself onto my knees again. The Nairbs shuffled backwards on their flippers.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Now do you believe me? Score me as alive. Legion Varus wins.”

“Wins? No, not at all. There is no chance your people have won the challenge. That has already been determined. Your losses are greater by several hundred corpses. We are only trying to decide if you should be counted as dead, wounded or able. Our accounting must be complete, and accurate.”

I sighed.
Body count.
Wasn’t that what they’d said it was all about?

Still, I’m a stubborn man. Just ask anyone. I decided I would have to prove myself able.

I tried to stand up. The Nairbs backed up further. I stumbled, went to one knee, and stood again, hissing between my teeth.

“There,” I said. “I’m mobile. Thanks for the help. Now, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m going to have to kill a large number of saurians to reverse the score.”

They made an odd sound. Maybe they were laughing—I really wasn’t sure.

“Impossible. The odds of success are infinitesimal. Our ruling stands, and there will be no time extension.”

“I didn’t want to believe it, but the doubters were right,” I said. “The corruption runs deep here on Steel World!”

“Your references are confusing to the point of being rendered meaningless.”

“What I’m saying is, you Nairbs don’t like my kind, and your judgment is slanted against us.”

“Corruption! Yes, now I understand the accusation. Do you have any proof of your claims?”

“You have awarded victory to the defeated. I’m here, I’m able-bodied, and the enemy has withdrawn. Therefore, they are the losers.”

“Insignificant. The accounting has been precise. No human survives here other than you. During the conflict, you were badly beaten.”

I picked up my pistol painfully. The Nairbs watched me but did not retreat. I don’t think they knew how very, very close I was to shooting them both dead. With difficulty, I controlled myself and kept the weapon at my side.

“All right,” I said, shuffling toward the dead jugger. I pointed to his red scales and the ridged scar on his belly. “Take a look at this. This same exact lizard has attacked this compound over and over. He nearly got me the last time, but I killed him yet again.”

The Nairbs looked but didn’t seem too impressed. “All of these life forms resemble one another.”

“Take a DNA sample then. It’s the same damned jugger.”

“DNA sample? Unnecessary. We’ll simply check the molecular manufacturing imprint on the cells. Much simpler and more accurate.”

“Molecular…?” I began, and trailed off. “Are you saying the revival machines leave an imprint inside each body they produce?”

“Absolutely. Omitting the imprint would be a violation of Galactic Law.”

“Huh,” I said, thinking about my own body. Were my cells
stamped
inside with some tiny, sub-microscopic mark? Somehow, that idea made me feel a little sick. I shook it off and pressed my case.

“What are you going to do about this injustice?” I asked. “I demand to know.”

“Are you lodging a formal grievance?”

“Yes,” I said quickly. “Yes, I’m lodging a formal grievance.”

They both made unhappy gargling sounds. I got the feeling that was extra work for them. I smiled tightly at the thought.

Although it hurt, I managed to locate and show them another of the bodies with the same scar. Then I transmitted images I’d taken with my suit, all showing the same saurian dead with the same scar. For the first time, they seemed interested and paid close attention.

When I was finished, I went in for the kill.

“There you have it, then,” I said. “The enemy has been cheating. They used advanced revival technology to lower their body count. Surely, you see they must be disqualified.”

One of the two Nairbs made a sniffing sound. “By no means. This will go into our report, but it is by no means grounds for disqualification. Your forces use the exact same technology to an abusive degree. Did you really believe we were unaware of that fact?”

I paused, mouth open. I had naturally assumed they didn’t know we were doing it. In fact, we’d made a living out of abusing revival machines.

“A loophole in an accounting system must rightfully apply to all sides,” said the Nairb. “At least until the loophole is closed.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Could the Nairbs be advocating banning revival machines? That would mean every death Legion Varus suffered would be a permanent one. The mere thought was chilling.

I wanted to say a thousand things to those two Nairbs. I wanted to shoot them and pound them with my fists. I wanted to find out if their guts were as green as their exterior membranes.

But I did nothing. I stood there, swaying slightly on my feet like a drunk. Overhead, the sky was beginning to lighten. I was vaguely surprised—I
had
made it to see the dawn. I turned and looked up at the sky. Soon, the blazing twin eyes of Cancri would rise in what we called the east.

“Why, then, did you act like you cared?” I demanded. “Why’d you have me show you pictures and bodies?”

I turned painfully back around to face them—but they were gone. I watched in shock as the second one’s green tail vanished into the air car. A moment later, it lifted off into the sky.

The suns rose as they always did, painfully bright. I squinted and lifted my pistol—but I lowered it again. Shooting at their ship a few more times wasn’t going to gain me anything. We’d lost the challenge. It was over.

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