When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) (37 page)

             
The young squad leader had to stare straight up to look at his frien
d’
s eyes
.“
Shit
,”
Josh said
.“I’
ve never been more freaked in my life, but otherwise
I’
m pretty good
.
”

             
“Do
n’
t worry. Where can it really go wrong
?
”

             
Josh looked at his friend, dumfounded
.“
The bombs might not go off. Or there wo
n’
t be that many soldiers outside. Or the
y’
ll just stay inside and w
e’
ll be trying to clear barracks filled with two platoons of aggravated gunmen. Maybe the
y’
ve set up booby traps. Maybe they do
n’
t even open the gate for us
.
”

             
Dax laughed
.“
OK, I get it
.
”

             
“Our guns could jam, the grenades could be duds, we may just not be as good as them
.
”

             
“Josh
,”
Dax said, seriously
.“
Shut up. This is either going to work or w
e’
re going to go to the rear, take showers, and laugh about this tomorrow night at the closing banquet
.”
Dax clapped him on the back
.“
So le
t’
s sa
y‘
to hell with the what-if
s’
and drive these trucks into the middle of that firestorm
.
”

             
Josh smiled weakly. His friend was right. No matter the outcome of the next few hours, the battle was almost over. Josh was looking forward to some down time after the many months on Kronos. Even if every single soldier in Charlie fell during the fight, they would still take second place. That would earn a weekend of freedom in any port on New Eden. But a part of him continued to hope. Victory in the games meant a full two weeks of rest, away from the drudgery of military life. Josh had enlisted because h
e’
d needed the money. After two years of service he felt just as unsure about his future as before. Any respite from being in uniform would give him time to think about the choices he had ahead, wherever they might lead him.

             
“Sergeant
,”
Alexa said over the radio
.“
W
e’
re sighted on the target. The
y’
ve only got a few soldiers in the center, but it looks like the
y’
re getting braver by the minute. I do have more than a few bodies in the windows of that big building against the hill
.
”

             
Dax rubbed his chin
.“
Tha
t’
s gonna be a problem
.
”

             
“What a wuss
,”
Alexa said
.“
Le
t’
s drop some bombs and get this show started
.
”

             
“Roger, stand by
.”
Josh turned to Dax and nodded
.“
I
t’
s time.
I’
ll see you on the other side
.”
The big soldier gripped him by the shoulders and grinned. They smacked each othe
r’
s helmets and Dax pulled Josh to his feet.

             
Josh and the majority of his squad loaded into the first truck, with Dax and a co-driver in the second. A cup of coffee sat cold and half drunk in between the two seats. Taking a deep breath he twisted the ignition lever and the engine turned over. Josh checked the mirrors, catching site of the payload on Da
x’
s vehicle. Attached to every surface and directed toward the outside of the vehicle, the remaining T19 mines and Composition H plastique turned the car into a guided missile. Getting inside the gate would actually be easy. From the towers, the trucks would look no different than when the
y’
d left, save the gunners were
n’
t manning the machine guns.

             
“Dax
,”
he called out
.“
Are you sure you can get out in time
?
”

             
The big man leaned out from his seat and flashed his teeth. He revved the engine, speeding past Josh as an answer. They started down the road, wheels kicking up plumes of dust the enemy could
n’
t miss. With only minutes before the fireworks went off, they were at the point of no return.

*              *              *              *              *

              Markov could
n’
t take his eyes away from the scene. Sasha found it hard to believe his friend had slept at all the last few weeks. During the first month, the
y’
d stayed behind at the post and watched the games through the monitors in their rooms. But once the doctor had found his muse, he could
n’
t stop talking about how they
had
to be in one of the observation platforms, that he
could
n’
t
do his research anywhere else. For his part, Sasha had played the grateful guest and kept his mouth shut. There was no point in getting worked up because of unwelcome company.

             
The Seraphs were open spaces; there was
n’
t a designated or reserved area for any of the VIPs. Markov had snagged a small table and sectional sofa early on, and he had a knack for keeping it secure. Sasha was sure money had exchanged hands once or twice to keep some undesirable from stealing their spot. Dozens of personnel files littered the area, each one a jacket on one of the soldiers from the games. Sergeant Rantz and Corporal Shepar
d’
s faces stared back from their official photographs, along with other men and women from the Black Adders.

             
Markov had opened up some the day before, having waited months to reveal even the slightest detail about his plans. He told Sasha that they were working on a special-forces project, and that the Rangers provided the best candidates. Amongst the vanguard infantrymen, the Black Adders were considered the best. Sasha had asked why they did
n’
t simply take a few operators from Team Hercules, but the doctor insisted he had a method to his madness. Sasha figured he was on a need-to-know basis and went back to glaring at the diplomat across the room.

             
Brent had
n’
t spoken to them for the last few days, preferring to spend his time schmoozing with the politicians and bourgeoisie. It was a well known and oft lamented fact that the wealthiest citizens of the galaxy used training exercises like these to poach future security personnel for their estates. The situation with the Boxti had
n’
t changed that fact much; in fact, it seemed only to exacerbate the situation. Sasha wondered if there would be any soldiers left after the vultures had their fill. More than that, however, he wondered what an operative of the Red Hammer was doing in a room of businessmen and politicians.

             
The brass had made a bold and unpopular decision to keep the Kronos training area in the dark about the brewing war with an alien race, and the painful attack on Tallus. Those in leadership felt the information would only distract the soldiers during a crucial phase of the games. Others found it completely irresponsible to keep such information from men and women in uniform. Granted, only those still active on the field were oblivious; thos
e“
killed in actio
n”
had come back to the base to find a dramatically changed universe awaiting them. Brigadier General Casey, Kronos post commander, had considered shutting the entire operation down in lieu of mustering the troops for an eventual deployment. Admiral Walker, now acting as the unofficial Galactic Commander, had all but ordered a swift end to thi
s“
pointless training
.
”
 
Only the urging of the staff kept the Gauntlet running.

             
Sasha had been loathe to weigh in his opinion on the matter. War would find them all eventually, of that he was sure. Better those few soldiers on the ground enjoy a day more of thinking all was fine in the universe. Right now, those on the sidelines were playing their own sort of game. The politicians were looking for a way to appear butch in front of the press. The rich dogs were looking for protection. Brent was looking for new toys to steal, or maybe trying to learn tactics. With the Red Hammer, it was hard to tell where the line between cowardice and tactics began. Even the military men seemed out of place. Half were chomping at the bit to get out and find the alien menace, the others were trying to draw out their time behind a desk as long as possible. And then there was Markov. He was the strangest of them all.

             
The infamous Dr. Markov Ivanovich had recruited Sasha from prison. Actually, he had dragged the revolutionary from a holding cell on Phobos after thirteen years of incarceration. Despite having spent the postwar years chained to a wall, the revolutionary was not eager to leave the comfort of a UEC dungeon. To his surprise, Markov told him the old government had been disbanded as part of a treaty with Mars. Not that the Federate sounded like anything more than a new title for the same puppet show, but Sasha could
n’
t argue that he was suddenly breathing free air.

             
Sasha had
n’
t been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Phobos had never been known for its hospitality, especially for a rebel officer. For the first year of his incarceration the
y’
d wondered whether h
e’
d even survive his injuries. But h
e’
d never been one to lay down and die. As a soldier h
e’
d been driven by the cause, always looking toward the goal of a free and unified Mars. But now he did
n’
t know what he stood for. How had he become this scarred old man? And why was he with the irascible
synok
?

             
The young scientist stood at a window, a glass of some hideous concoction in his hand. Every few minutes he would speak into his data recorder at a whisper. Sasha did
n’
t dare interrupt. It was
n’
t that Markov would be annoyed, but the Martian had no intention of being sucked into another intellectual debate. Those turned into one-sided battles rather quickly.

             
Sasha done some research once h
e’
d acclimated to civilian life. Markov had been a genius since childhood, excelling in math and science at an early age. H
e’
d been discovered by the headmaster of a prestigious school for gifted youth by the time he was nine, and entered into Dean Michae
l’
s School of Science. H
e’
d graduated with the class of 2223 and entered into a doctorate program with the Rutherford Group, the militar
y’
s top research division. Spending half his time lecturing and the other half inventing fantastic new toys for the men in uniform, Markov quickly earned his stripes as the UE
C’
s top mind. When Mars revolted, he was chosen to find a swift solution.

             
His idea had been the CROWN armored suit. The Carbon-Reinforced OverWear Network system had been the brainchild of Marko
v’
s mentor Ian Faust. Utilizing simple neural networking, a single soldier controlled a twelve-foot-tall armored battle suit. The technology used was fairly archaic in comparison to the mechanics used  in its design, but the intent had been to create a weapon any soldier could learn to use. Yet even after months of reworking the algorithms that ran the suit, it remained unyielding to the demands of its driver. Several soldiers became stuck inside for hours at a time while the computer forced a reboot. A few experienced mild brain damage from an unexpected feedback loop, which halted the entire experiment and forced Markov to rethink the use of a neural interface versus traditional controls. In the worst case, a test pilot seized during an obstacle course, losing both soldier and suit at the bottom of a lake.

             
Finally, after a few billion credits had been wasted on his dream, the government cut funding to CROWN and sent Markov off to work the wastelands on Europa for a few years. He spent his time on the frozen rock looking over notes, trying to determine the fatal flaw that had led to his ruin. That time had hardened him, and affected his psyche more than he cared to admit. Though Sasha had not known the doctor in his youth, he could tell the man was far from all right in the head.