Welcome to the Marines (Corporate Marines Book 2) (14 page)

“In the real world you need to be able to work together as a team in and out of armour. There may be circumstances where your armour is no longer effective and you have to extract the old-fashioned way. You are a huge investment by the Corporation. Not just in your armour but in YOU. The implant suite you have, the training and the experience you will shortly have works out to almost two hundred and fifty million dollars. If things go wrong and we can extract you even without your armour, then we have saved the Corporation the time and money of training a replacement.”

One of the troopers from one section raises his hand. The instructor nods at him and he asks, “Operational deployments should only be short-term, as in under twelve hours. Our suit batteries are good for twenty-four and we always carry a backup set. Any corporate defence or mission, if deemed to be longer, would have us carrying more batteries. Why this preparation, then, when we likely would not survive without the backup?”

The picture was stopped at our firefight in the thirty-floor office building. I had a feeling that questions would lead to being cut, so I was keeping my mouth shut and just listening. The instructor nodded. “That’s a good question. The answer should be that anyone out of suit in a hostile situation would not make it. Mistakes happen. Something called Murphy’s Law has happened too many times over the years, which leads to troopers out of power and ammo. Most of that leads to immediate death. In the last forty years there have been six troopers that have come back from operations that went bad. If the Corporation can increase that survival rate and get a few more troopers back, then it is well worth it.”

She glanced at the screen and the images carried on and then stopped at a section picturing moving an injured trooper on a stretcher while the rest of us had covered them. “If this was not valid, would we have you moving those who are injured by stretcher to cover and removing the casualty from play for a few hours while they quickly heal and hard casts are used to fix them?”

I could see the point. We could have just carried on and left the injured for treatment by follow-on personnel.

She continues. “You must be able to work together as a team. You must be able to consider your teammates when they are injured. Unless the circumstances are extreme, recovering the injured is a high priority. We do not want you to throw yourself in front of a missile to save your teammate. It has been found through statistical analysis that when this happens, both troopers’ arc is then left uncovered, which may allow the enemy to bring effective fire on the section. If a trooper is hit by a missile, the trooper often survives, depending on whether the hit is direct on target and what sort of missile it is.”

She stops and the pictures fade away. The instructors move to the front of the stage again and look at us.

“Your next stage of training will start tomorrow, and it is the second-last phase of training. This training will consist of a work-up stage and then full powered armour training. You are completely off tonight with no tests or inspections. Have a few drinks, go to sleep early, watch a vid. Whatever you want tonight. Tomorrow will start relatively easy.”

She turns and, with the other two instructors, walks off the stage and leaves.

We just look at each other. Completely off and no testing for tomorrow? We can drink? I am in complete shock. There is no such thing as time off and we are always being watched.

People start drifting out and I follow. We all sort of congregate in the mess and eat, then people start splitting off. I have no friends left so watch a vid in the common room with some of the others, then head for my room for an early night.

I walk in, grab my shower gear, and head to get cleaned up. I just do not know if I can keep it up. I keep seeing the images in blood and while time is passing, the images and sounds that I am reliving are not fading away. I know it has been less than a year, and that this should not fade away for a bit longer.

But everything is still crisp and I relive it regularly.

Maybe a nice, hot, slow shower will wash away some of that and let me sleep through the night.

No one else is in the shower facility as they ran to go do other activities free of over watch and responsibility for a night. The facilities are great and everything is large and well maintained. We just have not seen them for so long, it’s like a little piece of heaven.

The shower water is so hot I can barely stand it, and I take the time to soap up twice and clear all the suds off.

By the time I come out of the shower I look like a soaking wet prune. I feel great. Then, I brush my teeth and comb out my hair.

It is the little things like this that I can really appreciate now.

My clothes are just hanging on me and I am going to need to gain back a bit of weight. Then again, we all are.

I look at myself in the mirror and finally feel human. When I close my eyes for a second, I can hear the screams again. But I can open my eyes and carry on.

I wipe down the sink with my towel before throwing it into the receptacle.

I head back to my room, swinging by the cafeteria on the way and see that it’s empty. I see Four from one of the other sections sitting back with his eyes closed and he appears to be running a sim.

The place is empty and feels like a morgue.

I am just heading down the hall toward my room when I realize what is missing for me. My every image and thought of this place is busy, frantic activities and constant motion. For a second I wonder if everyone else is just gone and I am alone. If I go back to the cafeteria, will I find the seat empty and no one else at the facility?

I give my head a shake and carry on. Those of us who have not failed out of the program have headed out to parts of the facility that we are not normally allowed access to and are likely drinking their faces off or doing “fun activities.” I can’t think of what fun is anymore, either.

Great—I have been here WAY too long.

I bump my room door open and the lights click on. My books and study guides are where I left them on the desk. Everything is exactly as I left it.

My locker is still open just a few inches where it didn’t latch when we ran out the last morning.

I step over and open it up fully. All my clothes have been left just as they were. I guess that no one comes into this part of the facility. The amount of security is amazing.

The door clicks shut behind me. I didn’t close it.

I start turning as I hear her voice. “Hi, Slate. How are you doing?”

I have Kellye standing in my room. Her hair is pulled back in a short pony tail and she is leaning against the frame. The nondescript grey physical training clothing looks good on her frame where it would look like crap on anyone else. She doesn’t look pissed, but the only reason she could be here is that she is irritated that I was checking her out.

Most of us do not get together and talk or even really socialize, except to study, as that could be too much of an attachment and anything like that was too much of a risk.

She nods. “I can see you are thinking that you can’t talk to anyone or hang out, you know. That whole attachment briefing we got at the beginning. Yup, we saw lots of that as most of the failures really occurred because people formed real attachments and then did poorly on tests.” She cocks her head to the side and looks me in the eye. “Right?”

I nod.

She continues. “You never do talk much, do you? Short answers in class and always trying to just do.” She stops. “I heard you did bad things to get sent here.” She nods to herself. “But that doesn’t matter now. You also did well at the physical fitness side and all the rest of the tests.”

I am not getting where this is going and I wish she would get to the point as I would love to get some sleep. She is just standing there with her arms crossed, talking at me like I am a potted plant.

She straightens up. “You know what I don’t get?” She steps up to me with her arms at her sides in a relaxed pose. The top of her head is in line with my nose and she is looking up at me. She has big blue eyes that are just amazing. “I have seen you staring at me pretty regularly. I mean, that’s standard; I’m built. I just don’t know why you don’t ever talk to me. Are you too shy to talk to a pretty girl?”

Since she is shorter than me, I look down to really look at her and then I notice that her grey gym top is open to the waist and I am looking down her sports bra.

I feel myself turning red and try stuttering something out, but I’m not quite sure what to say.

I yank my eyes up and she is looking at me with uplifted eyebrows. “Did you like what you saw? And can you turn any redder?”

I keep trying to talk. “Yes… I mean, no! I mean, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to objectify you…”

She giggles. “Oh, objectify away. I was really worried you were gay or something, but I can see now that you’re just shy.”

She leans in and pulls me close, snuggling up to me. I can feel how firm her body is after the heavy workouts that we have been involved in for months. She feels incredibly strong and she is warm.

I feel so distant and can’t stop staring into her deep blue eyes. I can see her smile but it looks nervous. “My family was never really that well off and I always thought that I needed bodymod because I don’t have the perfect build; I’m kinda chunky and I have some birthmarks. I couldn’t afford to have it done so was stuck being okay-looking. That’s unattractive on a chick, you know?”

I put my arms around her and pull her closer. I feel like I am coming out of a fog and can feel my body reacting. I lean down and nibble on her ear gently.

After she gasps I whisper, “You are smoking hot.”

She giggles again and then says, “Lights out.”

The lights flick off and then I say, “Lights on.”

They come back on. I never knew you could do that verbally. I lean in and kiss her on the mouth and her tongue slips between my lips and I can feel her hands running up and down my body as she presses her body against me.

We break for a second and she giggles again. “It’s like that, is it?” She sounds nervous, “I’m kind of self-conscious…”

I nibble on her neck and carefully say, “Lights out.”

The lights click off and we continue losing the one night of freedom we have to each other.

I wake up in the morning just before the alarm goes off as she slips out the door. She is so wrong about herself, I thought. She is much more beautiful than any of the Ms. Smirkos out there.

T
hat night was awesome. My back feels like I wrenched it nicely and the scratches are healing up.
I have seen the results of attachments and that is a bad thing. Therefore, last night was fun, but was just fun. Back to duty.

I have to run to the auditorium as I am late, but I am not the last to arrive. In fact, a few of the troopers are looking hung over. Three arrives and gives me a smirk as she settles into her seat with her section.

The last few troopers show up and are quick to seat themselves.

We are twenty minutes late by the time the last trooper is sitting.

This will be the first test if the instructors were serious about a relaxed night and day.

The instructors walk in and move to the centre of the stage. The lead instructor is the badly scarred female again. Let’s see how they respond to our being so late.

“Good morning. Last night you had off and this morning is going to be a relaxed brief. You will be back at full speed by afternoon and are going to have an easy sim to run through as a first practice.”

There are some lectures on sims and the high quality that the Corporation uses in training to make the experience as real as possible. Sims are used extensively and are an excellent tool so that troopers are not slaughtered if they make a mistake.

Sims are also used by sergeants to fully and properly brief the section and cover expected actions and scenarios during orders.

Everyone uses sims. It is becoming a big problem as people like living in fantasy worlds where they can be what they are not in the real world.

Great—the next phase is gaming.

After a quick break for lunch where I try to start a conversation with Eight, I end up ignored and realize that attachments are fail points. We all head to the sim room. Over the door is a large sign that reads: TRAINING SAVES BLOOD.

I move inside and instinctively head to my section. We each cover off a sim couch and I notice that there are the exact number of couches as there are candidates.

The main instructor walks in. “Please lie down on the couch and make yourself comfortable.” I do so and feel the couch wiggling under me. “The couch is not adjusting to fit your body.” The wiggling stops after a few seconds. I am just staring at the ceiling waiting for something to happen, and nothing does.

The instructor carries on. “Please close your eyes and relax. Think of a flower.” I close my eyes and wonder, why the hell a flower?

I fall down a black spiral and see the entire universe and can only think of a flower opening eternally.

I am with my company on a standard patrol doing work-up training and making sure that everyone is calm. After the news came out of the spaceships heading toward Earth, there was some rioting. So of course the government has mobilized us. The armour is heavy and we have a full weapon and ammo loadout to keep the civilian population happy. There are reporters everywhere and the government is clearly doing something. Just what I am not sure, other than deploying most of the military in target areas.

The weather is warm for mid-April and the smog is not that bad right now. I know as the day goes on the smog will build up as the weather warms. Thankfully it won’t be as bad as summer would be.

I am standing next to Six, I mean Corporal Gorder. He is watching the locals as they watch us during our presence patrol. He looks at me and grins. “Relax, newbie, we run around for a while and the ships end up being an alien trading delegation or something. Heck, maybe they are just here to check out all the hot chicks.”

I chuckle at Gorder’s laid-back way of looking at this. But I know he is not right. “No way. They are here to invade. They should be dropping kinetic weapons on us shortly and then landing a large invasion force to take and hold while they get ready to get as much of our precious metals as they can.” I stop.

He looks at me with a concerned look on his face. I can see he thinks I am snapping under the strain. “You ain’t losing it on me, are you, newb?”

Something is not right with what is going on. I know what is going to happen and this is the past, not today. I start to hyperventilate and am panicking.

Everything seems to slow right down and then I hear a chime, then a voice. “Relax, trooper, this is a simulation of the first main ground war that was fought on Earth right after contact. You are in the Sixth Company of the Fourth Division, North American Army Land Arm. So you are aware, while I am having this conversation with you, time is compressed. The simulation is running at one second for five minutes of discussion.”

Everything clicks for me. We sat down on the combat couches and entered the sim like other times, but this is more immersive and the voice I am hearing has to be an AI running it. Everything is just too real. The warm sunlight, the smell of the smog. That little girl that was in the dirty clothes, with her mom telling her she was not getting dirty like that right before going to see Nana.

The voice had stopped for a second and then said, “You are correct, trooper. This is a fully immersive simulation. I am monitoring all elements of the simulation from your perspective. You may ask me questions now. You can talk out loud or just think them; I am monitoring you, after all. To save you time, I know the common questions and will answer them immediately. Why are you here? Restricted. Can you talk to me in the scenario? Just now. What are you supposed to do? Deploy in the sim for a combat operation. You will find that your implants can provide you all the information and technical skills of a soldier in this scenario. Your actions are to be your actions. Operate as you normally would. This is the last phase of testing. Is there anything else you would like to know?”

“Well, no, I can’t think of any… Wait! Are they going to recognize that I am not part of the company in this sim?”

“No, I run the sim. You are simply a new recruit fresh out of basic, and a nice guy. The sims will not question you.”

“Where are the rest of the troopers dispersed to?”

“Troopers are where they are supposed to be as designated by higher. If you do see them, they will not be wearing the same face or have the same build.”

So they are testing reflexes or luck or something that cannot be run by implants. I do not know what that is, though, and that is worrying. This is one of the strangest scenarios I have been through so far.

Time speeds up to normal time again and Corporal Gorder is looking concerned.

“No, buddy, I was just a bit weirded out with all the stuff that they have us doing. A hundred-man company deploying to walk four city blocks?”

Corporal Gorder laughs quietly. “No man, remember it is a one hundred
soldier
company. We have females and we are all the same. None of that sexist crap!” He laughs again and we carry on walking.

We all have full loadouts but only a ten-soldier section in the centre is loaded and ready to use. The rest of us are in two globes around them with weapons slung so that civilians do not get upset with an aggressive military presence.

I query my plants. I need to know timings.

Everyone on Earth knows the year and day that the attack happened. Within hours, millions were dead and an invasion force had landed. I am in the target zone.

The first kinetic weapon will be hitting within fifteen minutes, south of us. In the following twenty minutes there will be another kinetic strike in a large diamond shape around. Then the ships will land within hours. Fighting lasted for weeks while the North American military, all branches, fought the invaders. Losses were 85 percent of engaged forces. A big chunk of that was caused by the kinetic weapons, but not all.

I am walking and smiling at the civilians while figuring this all out. I am in the centre of the invasion zone. The impacts are around here in a star pattern far enough out that we will not take all of the hits. But in hours there will be an army landing on our heads. A more advanced army of killer robots that will kill everything in the area, and then they will start pillaging.

Command-and-control units are almost impossible to take out. Military command will eventually deploy atomic weapons, killing more people than the kinetic weapons, and they won’t even take out all the command-and-control modules. Later it will be recognized that the modules were just fakes. Every robot was programmed to act independently. It was the military that eventually cleared out the last robot.

The impact of the invasion was felt by the world, and it still affects us. The enemy did not differentiate between men, women, children, military or civilian targets. When the invasion was defeated, political correctness was taken out back and executed.

Eight minutes to the first hit.

Kids are playing in one of the small parks that were built to offset the high-rises all over. It’s a tiny patch of green land with a few trees and some jungle climbers, with dozens of kids screaming and running around, surrounded by a desert of concrete. We move on and most of the kids wave.

Three minutes out and we stop at some street vendors that have set up shop selling “mystery meat” that smells surprisingly good. The company starts filtering through, buying lunch. High command issued a directive that “patrols were to interact with the civilian population to put a more humane face on the operation while also impacting the local area’s economic wellbeing by purchasing local items as needed.”

My plant is running the timer down. The only good thing I can think of is that when I am killed, it will be later during the invasion.

I look down the road and can see the streak moving across the sky. I am estimating twenty seconds.

I move to the side and point down the alley next to me. “Hey, Corporal Gorder, what’s that?”

He turns and steps toward the alley. “What did you see?”

There is a deep rumbling sound and then the impact behind us. The rumbling gets closer. People are screaming and looking toward the sound and the impact. Bad move.

I scream, “Everyone get down!” and throw myself to the ground. Corporal Gorder does as well. A few others in the company follow. Most of them just stand there gaping like idiots or stuffing food in their faces.

The blast wave hits us. It is not as bad as I expected, but it blows out some of the windows in the surrounding towers and people are bowled over. Those who are staring in the direction of the impact cry out in terror at the flash. I don’t know if they are going to be blinded by that or not. The blast wave is over and we appear to be done. There are some casualties and the rumbling ends. Just under two minutes till the next impact. Most of the company gets up and slowly starts milling around.

I am keeping my eye out and see the second streak. I just have the time to yell, “Everybody get down, there’s another one!” then I am on the ground covering my head with my arms. Again we feel the rumble; there is a lot more screaming this time. This blast wave does more damage and sirens are going off everywhere. There are also more injured. As this blast fades, there are more casualties in the area but less of the company is getting up to help. I hear someone screaming, “Earthquake! Earthquake!” over and over, but I know this is not over yet. Less than two minutes to the next impact.

I stand up and turn to face the impact zone of the next kinetic weapon. Right on time I see the red streak and hit the ground while screaming, “Incoming!” About half of the people get down this time. The rest are in shock and still just standing there. After the rumble, this blast wave is the worst and the closest. All the rest of the glass windows blow out and the stunned people walking around take more hits. I see another soldier lose her head to a flying sheet of glass. The blood spray shoots straight up and then comes down like rain. Her head lands between us and her glassy eyes are looking at me with a scream of terror on her face.

The next impact is in forty seconds. I do not get up this time. Most of the rest of the people are staying down as well, except for a few people. I yell at them to get down as there could be more. A few get down slowly while the rest start wandering aimlessly. I can see the fourth red streak from my prone position and just cover my head, open my mouth and start yelling as the rumbling starts. When this blast hits, there are other rumbling sounds in the distance and I can see clouds of debris flying up. The buildings are overstressed and the blasts have weakened them so that they are starting to come down.

I know this is going to get worse, and then I see the last red streak.

It’s a lot easier to scream as the final weapon hits and sends the blast wave toward us. This one buffets most of us and I am bouncing up and down on the concrete, which feels like it has turned into water.

In the distance there is more debris being thrown into the air as more towers come down. On the far side of the children’s playground climber, one of the buildings is over-stressed and comes straight down.

The dust and wreckage covers us and I can’t breathe for a minute until it starts to settle.

By my count, fifteen minutes have passed and everything is starting to settle. I get up and look around. There are a few dead soldiers and civilians, lots of injuries, and many more of us that are all right, just shell-shocked.

At least I was not at ground zero. Five city blocks were vaporized, with heavy damage done in the immediate area. Now we are cut off from the rest of the world, though. Bridges are down and the only way out is a vision of hell with temperatures that will melt steel and incinerate flesh.

I look, and yes, I can see the first lander as a speck. It is heading for us and is going to land somewhere in the area. Great.

I see the company commander and he is up with his command team. I stagger over, coughing. I point toward the lander behind them. “Sir, there is a spaceship coming down over there. It sort of looks like it is coming this way.” They glance at it and then the major starts issuing orders. “We need to spread out and start helping with casualties until civilian services can get here en masse. We are going to need to get in touch with the rest of the companies and coordinate a casualty collection point.” The team around him leaps into action.