Exodus: Empires at War: Book 8: Soldiers (Exodus: Empires at War.) (11 page)

The Top Sergeant
nodded and turned away.  There was none of that saluting in the field
nonsense in the Rangers, and they were considered in the field at this
point.  Cornelius moved to a far wall and opened his suit, climbing out as
soon as everything was fully extended.  He felt better moving around
without the cumbersome armor, despite the advantage in strength.  He was
faster and much more agile without it, and that made him feel safer going into
combat than any amount of armor protection.

He turned and
reached out to touch the wall, feeling the almost perfectly smooth surface
under his hand.  The stone had been fused by laser, then sprayed with a
nanoseal, creating an ultrathin layer than was diamond hard.  The cavern
was now much stronger than the granite overhead, making it a very effective
shelter, which was what it would be used for in the near future.

The Captain
linked into the computer system that ran the com and environmental systems of
the cavern.  It was totally shielded, only accessible through a series of
short range nodes scattered throughout the complex.  He looked over the
cavern, which extended beneath most of this range of mountains, and whistled at
the size of it.  Of course it had been a natural system of magma vents,
formed when the range had from volcanic activity.  The engineers had just
expanded it, but what an expansion.  There were sixty-three of the hundred
meter wide caverns, connected by hundreds of tunnels.  More than enough
room for the rest of the regiment when it arrived, and for the other troops
that would be assigned to this location.

Walborski found
what he was looking for after a few seconds, and jogged toward that tunnel
entrance, getting his body used to the gravity field of the planet, just
slightly above Earth normal.  It would only take his men minimal time to
get used to it, at most a day, and then they would move around on the surface
like they were natives.

The tunnel
sloped up, leading into a room that had a ladder on one wall heading up to an
opening in the ceiling.  Cornelius went up hand over hand, four hundred
meters, breaking a sweat but not tiring.

“Sir,” said the
Ranger who was manning the observation post on the upper slope of the
mountain.  The man was dressed in a high tech ghillie suit, one that used
no electronics, but did a very good job of camouflage with nanomaterials. 
The observation post itself sat under a shelf of rock, and there was plenty of
cover to duck behind.

“Anything to
report, Ramirez?” he asked the man, settling down on a rock seat and pulling
his glasses from their case.

The Corporal
looked down at the plains he and his squad had been watching for the last week,
coming in with the engineers and gathering the information as only living eyes
could without giving off an electronic signature.  They had cameras
mounted on several points of the mountain which gave off almost no signature,
only enough to be picked up from meters away.  But people were still
better observers, able to pick out patterns where computers struggled.

“They guard that
camp like it contains an army threatening their own rear, sir,” said the
Corporal.  “Almost all of their attention is turned inward, making sure no
one escapes.  Even the patrols out on the plains seem to be more concerned
with escapes than anything coming at them from outside.”

Cornelius nodded
as he swept his glasses over the camp from one side to the other.  It
would make sense that the Cacas would feel secure here, in a system guarded by
their fleet.  He wasn’t sure if any of the Cacas that escaped from the
last offensive in the Empire had carried the news of the assault carried out by
wormhole gates.  These Cacas would know about the gates, and about how the
humans had used them on planets they had already occupied.  But it was
possible that these hadn’t guessed at the way humans could use them to invade
other planets.

“Patrols random
or set?”

“As far as I can
tell, mostly set, though they can throw a random monkey wrench in the
mix.  But rarely.”

“Let’s just hope
they stay set in their patterns when we strike.”  Cornelius started
looking over the plain, which was not a totally flat region by any means. 
There were numerous gulleys and small valleys, cut by the multiple streams that
ran from out of the mountains.  Most of the plain had been farmland, but
there was a smattering of Terran native woods forming wind breaks around the
fields, and to the north a rolling forest of native vegetation.

Cornelius’ quick
mind started sizing up the possibilities, how he could get his men close to the
camp, how he could evacuate the people there.  It would not be easy, but
he saw a lot of possibilities.  Of course, it would not be entirely his
call.  As a lowly company commander, he would be given an area of
operations for the day, and could make up his plans as they fit into those of
the rest of the regiment, and the fire support plan.  But he could present
his ideas to the Colonel, and from what he knew of Montaigne, the man would
listen.

Turning the
glasses back to the camp, he felt his rage rise as he saw several wagons full
of bodies rolling along one of the internal paths.  He wanted to go
charging into that camp with the force he had, to rescue those poor captives
who were being treated as cattle.  He wanted to charge in himself, alone,
and kill the first Caca he came to with his bare hands.  He knew he could
do none of those things, that the only thing he could do was to stick with the
plan and wait for the proper time.  But he would enjoy the killing in this
one.  Just as he knew his soldiers would.

“I want you and
your squad down at my HQ in an hour.  One of my other squads will take
over the duty.”

“I’ll let the
Sergeant know,” said Ramirez, who was only a team leader for his group.

Cornelius put
away his glasses and crawled away from the opening, standing as soon as he was
clear and heading for the hatch down.  He knew he had a lot of study to
get in before the mission.  Pictures to look at, vids to review, people to
talk with.  And patrols.  Those would go out immediately, and they
would face just not the chance of detection from the Cacas, but the deadly life
forms of this world as well.

Can’t be any
worse than Azure, or probably not even Sestius
, he thought, climbing down
the long ladder.  He dismissed that thought in an instant.  There
were some really big and fierce creatures out there, and it wouldn’t do well to
underestimate them.  Just as it wouldn’t do to underestimate the Cacas.

*    
*     *

Cat stared at
yet another set of carts being pulled from the camp by harnessed humans, and
wondered when the nightmare was ever going to end.  She recognized one of
the adults on the second cart, her dead face staring up to the sky while blood
seeped through her curly blond hair.  Ms. Thomas had been a teacher in
Cat’s school, and kind but firm woman who seemed to really love her
students.  And now she was just another slab of meat on her way to the
processing plant.

“When is this
going to end,” whispered the child, putting her face in her hands.  She
didn’t want to die, but this waiting was worse than death.  Her family had
already been taken, those who hadn’t been killed in the invasion.  She
might still know some people in this massive camp, but she had not been able to
find them.  And the Cacas came and harvested, looking at a list, then
killing selected humans, with no seeming rhyme or reason to it.

“Cat,” said a
small voice in an almost whisper.  “Is that you?”

Cat looked up,
feeling a smile stretching her face for the first time in months.  Her
face almost seemed to forget the interplay of muscles needed to present such an
expression, one she had used to produce with regularity before the coming of
the Cacas.

“Elizabeth?” she
said, hardly believing her eyes.  Elizabeth  Caronones had been her
classmate for the last three years.  And, while they weren’t best friends
by any means, they were friends, and had played with each other on occasion
through all of those years.

“Cat,” said the
other girl, a smile on her face.  She looked up at the pale skinned man
who stood next to her.  “Daddy, this is Cat.  Cat was in my school,
and she was in Ms. Thomas’ class with me this year.”

“How nice to
meet you, young lady,” said the man, whose eyes only lay on her for a moment
before resuming their darting back and forth, as if he were charged with
watching the entire crowd.

Cat thought
there was something strange about the man, but she didn’t know what.  He
seemed nervous, hyper vigilant, or at least more so than was normal for the
camp, where everyone was just a bit paranoid.

“Where’s your
family, Cat?” asked Elizabeth, grabbing onto her hand to get her attention.

“I, don’t know,”
said the child, shaking her head, closing her eyes tight, still refusing to go
to the place where her family was dead, even as she knew they were.

“Can she stay
with us, daddy?” asked Elizabeth, looking up at the man, who turned his cold
eyes on Cat.  “She has no one, and you can protect her, just like you do
me.”

The man looked
like he was thinking for a moment, then nodded his head as a strange smile
graced his face.  “Of course, little Beth.  In fact, I think she will
come in handy.”

Cat really
didn’t like the sound of that.  She also didn’t like being alone, with
only her own wits to rely on.  She was only a child, with no one to look
after her, and everyone else looking out for their own, or maybe even only
themselves.  She was always hungry, since the Cacas only made a lackluster
effort at grain and vegetable distribution, and made no effort at all to see
that everyone got fed.  After all, these were just cattle to them, so why
worry about the health and wellbeing of beasts in the slaughter yard.

“My daddy was a
policeman,” said Elizabeth, grabbing Cat by the arm and steering her the way
the pair, father and daughter, had been going.  “He knows how to handle
people.  We always have enough to eat.”

And I wonder
how you do that?
thought the other child, looking up at the tall man once
again.  She dismissed that thought in an instant.  If it filled her
stomach, what did it matter?

“Call me Rory,”
said the man, glancing down at the child.  “Or Mr. Caronones.  It
doesn’t really matter which.”

It was hectic as
usual at the food distribution point, with people jostling and shoving in line,
while a few of those appointed to maintain order tried their best to keep
things orderly.  The men and women who unloaded the stacked boxes looked
as tired and hopeless as ever, going through the motions more than anything,
but still getting the produce on the table for people to get at, while a couple
of stern looking men, people who looked like they hadn’t missed any meals,
watched carefully so that no one took too much.

Mr. Caronones
pushed past people to the front of the line.  Some protested, others made
as if to grab him, but a stare of his cold eyes silenced them all.  He
proceeded to the front and starting picking up food from the table, handing
some down to his daughter, then to Cat, before taking what he wanted.

Cat was
delighted to find that she had an apple, a banana and a small bag of wheat, as
well as a real bottled water.  She ignored the stares of others who would
be lucky to get one piece of fruit when it came their turn.  She had been
hungry long enough.  Why shouldn’t she have a full stomach this night? 
That the meager rations wouldn’t have filled her before the present turn of
events didn’t even register.  Her stomach had shrunk, and anything she
could put in it was welcome.

As night closed
down on the camp and everyone went to their tents, Mr. Caronones led them deep
into the camp, to a large tent where a lot of men and women were talking. 
He sat outside, out of sight, listening.  Cat couldn’t hear much of
anything, and wondered if the man had augmented hearing.  Such was not
uncommon among the police, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he did, but she
still had to wonder what they were doing here.

After a time the
man closed his eyes, face taking on the concentrated look of someone in link,
while Elizabeth held onto Cat’s arm as if afraid she might disappear. 
Some minutes later the Cacas came, grabbing the people in the tent and
executing them on the spot.  The carts came and the bodies were hauled
away, the Cacas not wanting to waste any of the protein.  Mr. Caronones
looked at one of the Cacas, who nodded at him slightly and moved off. 
Later that night another packet of rations was delivered to the man in his
tent, and Cat was pretty sure she knew what was going on.

There was a term
she had learned in school, in history class.  A strange word, and one
which she had never expected she would ever need to know. 
Collaborator.

*    
*     *

Great Admiral
H’rastarawaa really hated this place, but found it necessary to come here to
make sure progress continued at the pace he had set.  Even the males who
worked here came to hate it.  Not from any sympathy for the humans. 
More from their own beliefs.  Though the large carnivores were natural
born killers, death on this scale, this personal, was something even they were
not used to.  Here they saw the dead, smelled the dead, realized that
these creatures who they were converting to food were actually intelligent
beings.  After a time it weighed on those assigned the task, and they
slowed.  So here he was, to let his males see that even their supreme
commander was willing to see and smell the horrors.

“We are working
as fast as we can, my Lord,” said the ship commander level officer assigned to
the running of this factory.  Lines of bodies, hanging from their feet by
the belt that moved them through the cooking rooms, lined both sides of the
walkway.  The heat rose from the opening of the chamber those bodies moved
into, infrared convection cookers that would thoroughly heat the protein in the
time it took to pass through them.