The Harvest (15 page)

“The kids who are under the effect of the
slave gene will learn to use their armor and weapons via the neural
link to the Anunnaki. We’re experimenting with a program that may
allow you to upload information in the same way, but it is not safe
to use yet, and it may not be ready before the enemy attacks. You
have to act like you have a similar proficiency or you’ll draw
unwanted attention to yourselves. For now, these simulations are
the only way we can ensure the required level of preparedness.”

Holding a crimson helmet under his arm, he
stepped into the center of the group, and everyone backed up to
give him space. Jones wore the same armor, though the part covering
his chest and back was decorated with a large, eagle-dragon emblem
where Shane and the others had a solitary, vertical black stripe
running along the ridge of their breastplates from navel to
chin.

“The Anunnaki have this one uniform for
military use. They wear it for ceremony, for training, and for
battle,” Jones boomed. “It is lightweight, self-cleaning, and the
armor can stop a fifty-caliber round.

“Insignia on the uniform shows their rank,
what battles they’ve fought in, and displays their awards.” As he
spoke, he pointed at the upper right side of the eagle-dragon, the
upper left, and then the bottom. “The uniform demands respect and
loyalty from the lower ranks. Not only provided for protection,
it’s designed to intimidate the enemy, to strike fear in their
hearts.”

Shane knew the red armor, so glossy it
appeared to be painted with fresh blood, would scare the crap out
of him if he saw an army of soldiers wearing it coming his way. It
was complete, from the helmet that had an angry-looking, V-shaped,
tented glass visor, to the matching gloves and boots—no part of the
wearer’s body was left unprotected. Other than the ridge down the
center, the breastplate had a smooth construction. It reminded
Shane of medieval jousting armor, designed to deflect the impact of
a weapon head-on.

“This emblem is worn by the Anunnaki elite
Shock Troops,” Jones said, pointing at his chest. “Slave soldiers
wear the vertical black line on the front and back of the armor
that you see on your chests.

“In Anunnaki culture, anyone, regardless of
birth, can rise to the highest rank by being courageous in battle.
Less than two percent get to wear this emblem, and they lead the
lower ranks and are treated with the utmost respect by
everyone.”

The symbol and the armor looked rather
earthly, not what Shane would’ve expected invading aliens to wear.
After learning the Anunnaki had genetically engineered humans,
enslaving ancient societies, he began to wonder how many things
stemmed from the influence of these space-traveling conquistadors.
How much of mythology was from human imagination and how much of it
was based on actual experience?

“The armor
has muscle-assisting technology that will amplify your strength
tenfold. Park,” he said, looking at the Koreans. “Step
forward.”

A tall, somber-faced Korean kid approached
the alien. Jones instructed him to remove his armored glove and
handed him a steel ball.

“Crush this. Squeeze it with your hand until
it collapses.”

Park took the ball and did as he was told.
His face contorted with effort, but he couldn’t crush it.

“Now, put the glove back on,” Jones said,
holding the ball until the black-haired kid did as he was told.
“And try again.”

Park flexed the fingers of the glove a couple
of times, his eyes growing bright with curiosity. He took the ball
again and squeezed. There was a cracking sound and a squeak as the
metal scraped on itself. The sphere, which apparently had been
hollow, was flattened in Park’s gloved hand. The boy grinned and
held the pancaked piece of metal up for everyone to see.

“You and the other humans will be taken into
the Anunnaki ships and given this armor. We will provide you with a
Shock Troop emblem to apply to the chest and back once you slip
away from the enslaved kids. It will allow you to move about the
vessel with a degree of impunity. Once you destroy the reactor, the
power supply to the armor will be cut.”

Bleeping sounds came from everyone’s suits,
and Shane suddenly felt the weight of the armor. It wasn’t much
heavier than his football pads, but it must have had some sort of
air-conditioning in it. With the power off, it immediately felt too
warm inside.

“As you are experiencing now, the onboard
computer, environmental systems, and muscle enhancement will cease
to function. Once you cut the power, you’ll have the physical
advantage, but don’t underestimate the Shock Troops. They train for
combat in dormant armor. Any questions?”

Captain Jones looked around. Most of the kids
seemed excited about the new toys, but it reminded Shane of the
dangerous job that lay ahead. No matter how much they trained, it
was still just a bunch of kids attacking an empire of advanced
aliens. Shane had a thousand questions, too many to settle on just
one. But then, they’d only been fed bits and pieces of the strategy
to this point. He would try to have faith in the training; there
was nothing else to be done at this point.

“Next, we will talk about the three primary
weapons Anunnaki carry into battle,” Jones continued. The power
returned to their suits, and he held the helmet out to his side. It
vanished, replaced by a high-tech rifle. “This is the
standard-issue assault rifle. All soldiers carry this weapon. As
some of you might have guessed by watching the battle films, the
weapons use plasma bursts, not the bullets you are accustomed to on
this planet. The bursts are the size of a large caliber round and
carry enough energy to melt through any metal your militaries use
on tanks and armored vehicles.”

“Can it go through this body armor?” Liam
asked, raising his hand.

“Finally, someone speaks,” Jones growled.
“Yes. The armor cannot resist a direct hit. A shot from this weapon
will sear a hole as big as my fist in you, causing unimaginable
pain. It is not a pleasant way to die.”

“I gotta get my hands on one of those,” Steve
whispered, eyes gleaming.

“Yes please,” Tracy seconded.

Shane wasn’t as enthusiastic. He still didn’t
like guns, knives, or anything else made for killing. He’d learned
to use them in the fight for survival that ensued when the adults
were killed off, and it turned out he was a pretty good shot. But
he’d never get excited like Steve and Tracy.

“Next, we move on to a smaller weapon,
carried only by Shock Troops and higher-ranking officials,” Jones
said. He held the rifle out like the helmet before. It vanished and
was replaced by a pistol. The gun was not much larger than the ones
police officers carry, but it had a bigger grip and larger trigger,
presumably designed to be easy to use with the added bulk of the
armored gloves.

“The elite soldiers carry this weapon at all
times. It is used in combat and is used to purge the slave ranks of
those who are not functioning properly. If a slave disobeys a
command in battle, or shows any sign that they are no longer under
telepathic control, the Shock Troops will quickly dispatch
them.”

“Such nice people,” Kelly said under her
breath, seeming as enthusiastic about the weapons lecture as Shane
was.

“While we will be able to provide you with
the emblem of the Shock Troop, you will not be issued this pistol.
The Anunnaki will only issue rifles to the enslaved humans. Be
forewarned, during your mission, this is one of the things that may
give away that you are not real Shock Troops.”

“Lastly, we get to what you might call the
Swiss Army Knife of the Anunnaki soldier.” An I-shaped rod replaced
the pistol. It was three inches in diameter and about eight-inches
long. “This device emits a controlled plasma beam at any desired
length up to six feet.”

He activated it, and a white rod of energy
rose from the front of the device. Jones held it out away from him,
grimacing from its brightness and heat. Shane was at least fifteen
feet away, and he felt the warmth coming from the beam.

“This is used as a cutting tool in most
cases, for breaking into bunkers where their enemy hides, for
cutting through wreckage and such, but some soldiers occasionally
use it in a fight,” Jones explained, deactivating the tool and
holding it out so everyone could inspect it. “The blade can be made
thinner and curved. It can also be turned into a whip or affixed to
the rifle like a bayonet.”

“Looks like a freaking light saber,” Laura
said, and then blushed like she hadn’t meant to speak so loud.

“It kind of is,” Jones replied, obviously
familiar with the fictional device. “But it’s not something you
want to be swinging around all day, and no one is going to stop a
plasma blast from the rifle or pistol with it. It’s more closely
related to a sledgehammer than a sword, though it’s sometimes used
for public execution when they desire to dishonor the victim.”

Remembering the video Lily showed them, Shane
knew he meant decapitate when he said dishonor.

“To make these weapons and to get those
massive spaceships to fly, the Anunnaki must have learned to
control gravity and use nuclear fusion,” Laura commented excitedly,
“or some other near infinite power source.”

“Insightful,” Jones said, giving her a
slight, though impressed, grin. “You are correct. They manipulate
gravity as easily as humans do electricity. And they use various
sources for power, fusion being one of them.”

Laura looked suddenly bashful, like her
excitement over the advanced technology had brought out a geeky
side she usually tried to hide. Shane recognized that she might be
the smartest person on his team—it could be the reason they’d
chosen her for the mission.

Jones wiped off his brow, the sweat caused by
the heat from the plasma beam. The weapon vanished from his hand,
and there was a bright flash of light accompanied by the buzzing in
Shane’s ear. When the light faded, he was back in the hangar,
sitting in the metal chair next to Kelly and his friends. They gave
each other wide-eyed looks.

“Okay, up and out onto the tarmac,” Jones
ordered with a gruff shout.

Everyone rose to their feet simultaneously
and followed his order. Once outside, Shane looked around at the
base, trying to shake the dreamy feeling caused by shifting from
the artificial world back to reality.

Jones told the group to form a large circle
on the asphalt. The sun was fully visible now, and Shane guessed it
was about ten o’clock in the morning. Although they were much
further up into the mountains than Leeville, and he expected it
wouldn’t get quite as hot, the temperature was on the climb, the
black pavement and clothing amplifying the heat.

The groups engaged in excited chatter amongst
themselves, many of them seeming jazzed about the armor and weapons
they were exposed to in the simulation.

“Silence,” Jones shouted, stepping into the
middle of the ring. “Now we want to assess your baseline knowledge
of hand-to-hand combat. While we hope your attack succeeds without
issue, if the mission does not go as planned, you may have to fight
your way out.”

Shane feared this would be where his team was
weakest. Steve could hold his own, and he wasn’t too worried about
himself, but some of the teams were composed of trained fighters.
Seeing Dr. Blain standing just outside of the circle, a small
medical bag slung over her shoulder, made him worry some people
were going to get hurt. His team might be about to get
schooled.

“Our goal here is not to have you hurt each
other. We want you to become accustomed to combat, and some of you
have more experience. This is more about sharing and learning from
each other than proving superiority,” Jones cautioned. “This is
about facing your fears and overcoming them.”

Walking around the ring of kids, he picked an
attractive Israeli girl, directing her to the center. Then he came
to Shane’s group, stopping in front of Tracy.

“You. In,” he said.

Tracy’s brow rose, and then she shrugged her
shoulders and strutted out in front of the girl. She was taller and
thicker than the olive-skinned Israeli, but Shane feared the
foreigner had some skills that might give her the advantage. Jones
probably had some idea about each of their prior training. The
question was, would he match them up evenly, or would he set some
of them up for slaughter? Either way would be a learning
experience. He’d lost a few football games to teams that were far
superior. Once the sting of the shellacking faded, his team
typically found they’d learned something and came out playing
harder, but more intelligently, the next game. These thoughts
didn’t make it any easier to know he might have to stand by and
watch some of his friends get their asses kicked.