Human Legion: Marine Cadet Part 14

Before Arun could form an answer Pedro announced: "I must go now. I apologize for my abrupt departure. I am called away and cannot ignore the summons. I have a request, though. Please learn the name of one of your auxiliaries before our next meeting."

Pedro leaped from his shelf and raced away as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did. There could have been a major cave in with thousands dead already, but not the smallest fragment of emotion could ever enter Pedro's artificial voice.

As he headed back up to the human levels, Arun silently cursed Pedro. How had the alien guessed that Arun didn't know the name of a single Aux?

* Chapter 18 *

384th Detroit Scendence Champions.h.i.+ps.

Day 2 Practice Match

Arun was no xeno-linguist, which wasn't surprising, given there wasn't much call for that skill. If an alien was on your side then the Jotun officers could communicate with the xeno if necessary. For all other aliens, you didn't talk to them; all you had to do was aim your SA-71 and squeeze the trigger.

The only thing he knew about alien languages was that Jotuns used bifurcated nouns a way of describing things from two perspectives. Zug said it came from the hexapeds having two pairs of hands.

Arun thought bifurcated nouns were an example of woolly thinking. Most humans agreed. But the Jotuns were in charge so they got to name the Scendence contests using their fussy nouns anyway. Equally naturally, the humans usually ignored this and simplified to a single noun.

So the contest of Deception-Planning was usually described as 'Deception' because most matches involved bluff and trickery. But sometimes as with Arun's first match for Moscow Express the planning side came to the fore.

After Madge had let him join, Arun was desperate to make a good showing maybe that would raise his reputation off the deck in the eyes of his comrades?

He'd been taken to one of the tech labs in the Level 5 novice school where he'd faced a G-1 cadet from the 420th Marines whose shrapnel scars to her face gave her a grim appearance.

Their challenge was to plan blockade-running logistics to resupply a besieged planet until it grew strong enough to free itself from blockade. A range of s.h.i.+ps was available to each player, each with varying characteristics such as troop-carrying capacity, build time, cruising speed, fuel consumption, nimbleness to evade the blockade, and firepower to blast a way through. The game AIs handled all the simulation mechanics combat, random hazards, the success of crash landings other such factors letting the Scendence players concentrate on planning the logistical operation.

Arun concentrated everything on ma.s.sive troop carriers loaded with defensive fighter squadrons to protect the carriers and their main cargo: great clouds of single-use dropboats loaded with troops and supplies.

The carriers took such a long time to build that his opponent had already made two blockade-running missions to her beleaguered planet before Arun's carriers even reached his. Once there, his boats suffered a brutal 90% casualty rate as they pa.s.sed through the blockade. And while his Scendence opponent's s.h.i.+ps had degraded her enemy's defenses, Arun's had barely touched his, being all about evading rather than blasting a way through.

The 420th supporters watching the Scendence feeds were jubilant, the 412th's disappointed... except for Blue Squad, Charlie Company, 8th battalion. Some of Arun's squad had lost confidence in him as a Marine, but as a Scendence player they knew him too well to give up hope.

Blue Squad was right. Arun himself soon grew confident that victory would be his.

Although his troops.h.i.+p carriers took a long time to build, they didn't need rebuilding they simply returned home to load the next cargo of cheap-to-build dropboats and the infinite supply of troops, who had no cost or build time. His opponent's fleets were single use, a replacement having to be built each time from scratch.

The key to victory was to exploit the abundance of his virtual Marines by spending their lives freely. Arun repeatedly flooded the blockade with such swarms of dropboats that enough survivors and their supplies got through to rapidly bolster the planet's defenders. It didn't take many waves before the game AI announced that his besieged forces had counter-attacked against the blockade, wiping it from orbit.

He'd won!

Arun allowed himself a smile when his overwhelming victory was announced.

Normally he would leap up and punch the air. But this time he felt dirty. There was a cruel parallel between the cheapness of his virtual soldiers' lives and those of the flesh and blood slaves bred to fight for the Human Marine Corps.

Still, a victory was a victory. And winning was all that counted.

The moment he entered the battalion mess hall after the game, a ragged cheer went up. Then he was surrounded by cadets wanting to slap him on the back, hug him, ruffle his hair or kiss him. After the mess in the tunnels, being mobbed as a hero felt so d.a.m.ned good.

It only took a few seconds for the mob to thin out and then disappear, revealing the cold truth: Arun had only ever had a handful of well-wishers. Most of 8th battalion was watching him with stony indifference or outright hatred. G.o.ds! He hadn't seen many cadets outside of Blue and Gold Squads since he'd seen Little Scar since his battalion had been demoted into the Cull Zone.

It didn't take a genius to work out whom most people blamed for that.

"Hey, well done on your game," called a female voice from behind. "I saw it all. An impressive performance."

Arun was grateful for any sign of support. "Thanks, pal. I do my best to..." That voice!

He stopped, turned around, and stared into Xin's face.

"Thing is..." Xin cast her eyes to the ground. She looked really uncomfortable. "Thing is, you're a whole lot better than the Deception player in my team."

Arun's reply was simply to gawp, too stunned to speak.

"Yeah, not too good on the vocabulary. I get that sometimes. But I studied your record. You've got good form."

"Well, yes, thank you. I wouldn't say I'm better than your teammate, but thanks. I saw you too. I think you're amazing."

"Oh, man. Don't go all twinkle-eyed on me. This is difficult enough as it is."

Arun chewed over her words, but he still couldn't make sense of them.

"Yeah. Lack of intelligence noted too, buddy. Still, you've got those plus points. And that's why I want you on my team."

"You... but... I can't. I'm already in the Moscow Express team."

"D'uh! I just saw you, remember?"

"Corporal Majanita has only just cooled down enough to let me on the team. I can't leave them."

"Yes you can. Can't is a word only used by losers. Now, won't is a word I'd accept, but can't is too pathetic for my ears to process."

Arun tried not to think too hard because he knew he'd hate himself for what he was about to say. "All right, Xin, I won't. I won't join you, much as I would dearly love to under any other circ.u.mstances, because... Well, you gotta see it my way. I can't let my squadmates down."

Xin gave a curt nod. "Fair enough. But will you at least do me a favor? Let me get you a drink and you give me five minutes of your time, because I've a couple of reasons to change your mind. If you still say no after that, then..." she shrugged sinuously. "No dramas. I won't ask again. Will you do that for me?"

Arun had the feeling he was getting conned here. Xin was dancing rings around him. Zug would know what to say. So would Springer, but Arun's usual way out of this sort of situation was to walk away or punch the person leading him a merry dance.

But with Xin, none of those were options.

"Hey, guys!" Xin was waving at some G-1 cadets sitting by the listening station, a zone of comfy chairs where ancient Earth music was beamed into stripped down battlesuit helmets modified for comfort.

A few minutes ago, Arun had felt like a hero in the making. Now, as he sat waiting for Xin, he felt like a child being bossed around by an adult. Or a bullying older child.

It wasn't long before Xin returned with a couple of drinks in cornboard cups.

Arun took his and drank half in one go. It was a grainer: rich, smooth and cool. He didn't recognize the flavor Xin had dialed up, but it was spicy enough to give a real kick but not enough to overcome the refres.h.i.+ng smoothness of the malt drink.

"It wasn't my idea to call ourselves Team Ultimate Victory. Frakking dumb name if you ask me, but do you think we'll live up to that name, McEwan?"

"Yes." He nodded. "You're superb, Xin. I don't think I've seen anyone play as well as you."

"It's not all about me, McEwan. Let me put it a simpler way. Do you think we'll reach the last sixteen and Cull immunity?"

"No," he said and immediately studied her face for a reaction. He'd given the right answer, he judged. "Too many weak points in the team," he added. "You'll come up against a team with no weak players and then you'll lose."

Xin grimaced. "You're right." Her leg started jerking up and down. Was she nervous?

Arun looked into her face. She looked unsure of herself. Other than that time after the tunnels, he'd only really seen her from a distance or through a camera feed. She'd always looked so perfectly beautiful, so fired up with determination that he thought of her more like an unstoppable force of nature than a flesh-and-blood girl. Seeing her up close like this... he wanted to stroke her straight black hair away from her face, look into those dark eyes, and tell her everything would be all right.

He didn't. Of course, he didn't. How could he when his hands were enormous clumsy lumps resting on his hands, barely capable of holding his drink cup? His tongue wasn't much more nimble, but his mind must have kept some of its sharpness because he found himself finis.h.i.+ng off the implications of what he'd just said what Xin had led him to say.

"And I would rate Moscow Express about the same," said Arun. "We won't win immunity either. So what you're proposing is to merge the strongest members of each team. That way we win more merit points for the battalion and start the climb out of the Cull Zone. We might just win immunity for ourselves too. That is what you're proposing, isn't it?"

"Congratulation, McEwan. You're not as dumb as you look. Don't you agree that playing in my team makes the most sense?"

"In terms of cold logic? Yes, I suppose it does. But there are other things beyond logic. Morale, loyalty. They count too."

"That's easy for you to say, McEwan. You're only G-2, this is only just becoming real to you. I'm a year further ahead. The Cull is much closer to reality for me. Much too close."

"Okay, I get that." Arun shuddered. He remembered the softscreen Little Scar had showing the last Cull of the 412th. The looks of resentment on everyone's faces. The dignified silence of the victims made even more poignant by the few who screamed for mercy. But there was no mercy in Arun's world.

"I can see you do," said Xin kindly. She laid her hand on his thigh. "I've witnessed a Cull too, don't forget. We see one at the end of every year." She shuddered, almost retching. "I don't want to be on the sharp end of one, but I don't think my cla.s.s can escape the Cull Zone. The climb is too high."

"No one does," said Arun. "But I can't see my Moscow teammates going along with your idea. Do you think you can convince your team to bring me in?"

"Team? What team? Olmer quit. And without her, Pardi's thinking about walking too. I reckon I can persuade Lindet to stay, but I need reasons. You are reason number one."

Arun shook his head. The way Del-Marie had reacted after he'd been caught out watching Xin instead of Springer he didn't even want to even think about how they would react if told them he was joining Xin's team.

"Hey! I'm still here," snapped Xin. "Stop thinking. It's not your strong point."

"Easy!"

Xin sighed. "I'm disappointed. That's all. I thought you'd like to spend more time with me."

"Well, yes of course."

"But you won't even consider my suggestion."

"Well, I"

"All you need to do is play just one round with us. Then we'll see where we go from there. Just one. It's not much to ask and I'll make it worth your while... you do like me, don't you?"

"Like you? I do, I..."

"Oh, for frakk's sake, dunkchunk. When I say, like, I'm not talking about modest affection. Let me spell it out. You find me desirable. I find your Scendence talents to be desirable. Let's make a fair exchange."

"No. I can't."

"Can't. There's that loser word again. Won't is just as dumb in this case. Listen up, twinkle eyes, if I don't win immunity, I might wind up dead. And, oh, let's think for a moment... A year later, so might you. Bundle up all those soppy love tales you read as a kid, and fire a tac-nuke at them, 'cos this is the adult world you're living in now. I'm not some frakking fairytale princess. I'm not the villain either. I'm just a flesh and guts girl who wants to live long enough to get off this planet and I'll do whatever it takes to survive that long."

"Horden's Children! You're so romantic."

"Romantic? Listen up, McEwan, you'd better sort your drent out fast if you believe in frakking romance. Dumb veck. Romance is for... I don't know. People in stories, I suppose. Real people on Earth, even. We're not real people, McEwan. Don't you get that? We're slaves, you dongwit. Some of us are Culled every year. If we survive that, we'll die anyway, fighting out there in the void, warring on behalf of those skangat White Knights who probably don't exist anyway. But that doesn't matter anyway because I'll take my chances in any war. All I'm focused on right now is living long enough to earn my chance to die out there."

In the mult.i.tude of conversations with Xin that Arun had dreamed of, there had always been at least an undercurrent of steamy romance, often more like a flood to be honest. All he felt now was pity mixed in with disgust.

He felt mostly pity for Xin.

And mostly disgust at himself because he was actually thinking of joining her.

But then he pictured the disappointment on Springer's face.

"No," he said. He'd had to drag the word out but now he'd turned her down... he felt relief.

Xin cast him a withering look that made him feel two inches tall. She sniffed disdainfully. "There's a chance that if you do exceptionally well, your G-2 cla.s.s might escape the Cull. For my cla.s.s that chance is vanis.h.i.+ngly small. I will be up for a 1 in 10 chance of being put to death. I have that hanging over me and why? Not from anything I've done. It's not my fault." She leaned in closer. "But it is yours."

Arun shook his head. "That's not fair."

"You're d.a.m.ned right it's not fair. Doesn't mean it isn't true. You put me in this situation, McEwan." She gripped his face, forced him to look her in the eye. "You owe me, man."

Arun's world blurred.

He'd heard that some Marines had been altered to allow messages and mood-altering hormonal packages to be pa.s.sed through skin contact. Gifting they called it. Perhaps Xin had gifted him. Maybe the hurt, disappointment and vulnerability she'd beamed through her dark eyes had enchanted him. Or perhaps he was simply weak willed.

Whatever she'd done, or he'd allowed her to do, Arun's mind s.h.i.+fted someplace else for a moment, a place he recognized: a noisy world of whirring bra.s.s cogs and hot oil where the planner part of his mind was yelling at him to join her. When he blinked and found himself back in the 8-412th's mess hall he realized he'd done it. He'd agreed to join Xin.

"I'll help out," he added hastily. He paused. G.o.ds, his head hurt. "But only because you're in my battalion. I don't want your... your bribes. And I don't buy your guilt trip."

"You're a cold fish," Xin sneered.

"Me?"

"Yeah, whatever." She flashed a smile that was undeniably beautiful but so too was the void: cold, airless, and bathed in lethal radiation, but still beautiful.