It has only taken about ten steps for me to wonder if I couldn't just stop, walk (on foot) to the spaceport, and catch a transport back home. I know that the booster shots Sonya gave me are still working on my hand and are trying to work on the angry pain in my shoulder, but the seat is jarring and uncomfortable, and this stupid neurohelmet's contacts are trying to electrocute my unprotected open wound. All this and I'm unexpectedly spawning a rock crusher headache as a side benefit.
I hope we don't encounter anyone. If we do I hope it is an occasion for me to go down fast in a blaze of glory the rest will at least remember for a few weeks.
One step at a time.
I have got to make it, not for me, but for these folks. It seems they are actually counting on me. This is murder.
One step at a time.
How could they be so... OWWw! I look about and realize that I have just stepped down a half meter into a ditch, and because I was wallowing in misery I missed the obvious. (sigh).
One step at a time while looking at what I am doing...
…..
"Taking small arms fire." That sounds like Master Wolte.
I look around, nothing seems unusual. We are about forty-five klicks East Northeast of the Tornado wreck and about to cross a rain choked tributary not much smaller than I suspect the river is. The bridge is simple and sturdy, made to hold the vehicles, but not 'Mechs; it is also open and close with no hiding place that I can detect. Here and there are low trees sparsely scattered across the open ground, a thicker stand seems to be out across the creek maybe two clicks, but it is hard to be sure in this downpour, even with the light amp on.
"Where?"
"Not sure."
Behind me, in the center of the column, the duce and a half suddenly jerks left and seems poised to try to ram my leg when it gets hung up.
Puzzled, I ask, "You Ok back there?"
There is no answer.
Fatima breaks her silence. "Snipers in trees, your eleven o'clock. Use heat." I don't know where she is, but I flip over to the infra-red vision and there in those distant trees are indeed a number of small heat signatures.
I see red. No, not just red, but RED! SCREAMING FLAMING CRIMSON RED!
My pains are subsumed in the adrenaline and my anger finds a direction I won't be corrected for. Throttle up, running through the flood right at them. There is a bit of motion, but I'm closing fast. My range indicator on the ErPPC flashes and I fire. It goes a little wide left, but I see more heat showing in the view. Bet the trees are on fire, serve the dogs right to get roasted. It seems they are trying to move to the right, but now I can see laser fire from their far side... Fatima is no more merciful than I am and she is a better shot. One knot remains and I unleash another streaming torrent of focused protons. I reach LPL range, but realize there are no targets left.
"Looks clear," I hear myself say.
I slow and turn, trying to control the shaking my hands seem intent on allowing.
"Lisa, you Ok back there?" I ask while walking back towards our entourage.
"Crew-woman Monroe is dead," cuts through the channel. I know I have gasped; she was driving the duce and a half.
I knew I should never be in charge, they are letting me lead them to their deaths. Doubt assails me with a club and recrimination pins me down with laser fire. In the rear view, I see the knot of trees has become a pyre. I know they are not alive, but I can't help wishing one or more of them were so they could suffer slowly.
I run the Black Knight back to our little convoy. As I approach, it's obvious they are moving her body into the back of her vehicle.
Master Wolte runs back up and seats himself behind the wheel. The comms impatiently announce, "I have the duce and a half. She is aboard. Let's get going."
I must act responsibly... I must. Turning the 'Mech, I order "Move out."
…..
Bam!
I remember reading something once that was as torturously miserable as this is turning out to be.
Bam!
It went something like, "slog-slog-slog-slogging over Africa" and was about something as interminable as this walk is.
Bam!
If I though I knew what hurt is when we started, I was badly mistaken.
Bam!
Each step jars every part of me as badly as driving over washboard roads in one of da's trucks used to.
Bam!
The 2x seat adjusted it's various hydraulic and pneumatic suspension systems to keep me floating above all but the worst walking vibrations...
Bam!
... but this 'Mech plays pogo stick for each step, trying to launch me against the harness and my helmet connections at the top...
Bam!
And then the "Bam!" pounding me at the bottom end as the whole assembly slams onto the hard rails underneath it.
Bam!
If the controls weren't attached to the seat, I couldn't move this thing at all.
Bam!
Even if my right shoulder wasn't wounded it would scream... no, wait, it WASN'T.
Bam!
I want to scream soooooo badly. This is murder.
Bam!
I wonder if I can force an eject... just push a button and the stupid thing will die on the ground as I jet off.
Bam!
How does anyone fight in this anyway? Maybe this is why we beat them so badly.
Bam!
I think decapitation is preferable to this. My head seems about ready to explode anyway.
Bam!
Maybe I can get Sonya to take this 'Mech next time.
Bam!
…..
We are waiting on the north side of the second river. By "we" I mean the three vehicles, Sonya in the 2X and myself. Fatima is scouting the remaining fifty or so kilometers between us and the mine; well at least that is what I remember us discussing.
I pull up the battle map. This is hilly country, and it looks like there is one road we will need to cross. I wonder where that leads and zoom out. That looks familiar... west of us it... oh. That is where we "pirates" attacked the supply convoys. I zoom out once more and to the east see the base Fatima and I were headed out to recon when things went wrong. Two days ago. Or was it three? Kinda hard to keep my days straight right now, and the oppression my headache is imposing makes independent thought all the more difficult.
As I wallow in my misery, it seems there is an odd smell. I know that smell, but for a moment can't figure out where from. I raise the visor and see nothing unusual, but notice the smell is a little stronger.
"Naomi, do you know what that smell is?"
'I am not equipped with anything to detect smells."
"Any systems showing problems?
"No, weapons all still green and engine output at idle."
"Oh, thanks." Maybe I need to look around myself. "Naomi, kneel the 'Mech, please. I need to check something."
The harness releases and I look around at the compartment. Something glints on the floor, the interior light reveals fluid... lots of fluid. I reach down and feel it, it is an oil of some sort. One whiff of it on my fingers and I am instantly convinced of two things: it is hydraulic fluid and it's presence on the floor probably reflects an absence in my chair suspension. Maybe I should fix that.
…..
Well, I finish jury rigging the command chair so at least it won't bounce with each step; it isn't pretty, but I have bumped the air pressure up to where the chair is frozen in place at the top of it's travel. Tromping my big stompy 'Mech around will still hurt, but at least I think I can survive long enough to cover the remaining klicks to our hiding place and repair the hydraulics there.
I wonder if we should do something for Lisa. Maybe bury her here near the river. No, I guess that wouldn't work, I really don't want to break radio silence right now and besides, my 'Mech won't be much good should we be attacked while I'm not in it.
Ah, there she is: Fatima returns.
Her Raven walks up to face me; well, the Black Knight has to bend forward a bit to let me look at her upturned beak. I see her running lights flash and wonder if she wants to tunnel. Um...
"Naomi, where is the tunneling link button in this 'Mech?"
"On it's comm panel."
"And that is?"
"In the cockpit."
"Fat lotta help you are."
"You are welcome."
If she were a woman, I could almost imagine that she would have that ornery smart-acre look painted all over her face.
I look around and finally see the panel in the most unlikely of spots... I can barely reach it without unhooking the harness again. Once pushed, the button begins the aligning...
…..
"Took you long enough, Commander."
"Thanks, Lieutenant. I think they stuck the stupid panel the button's on in the worst possible place and my ai is being a... er... pain. So what's up? Did we plan to do a tunnel and I just forgot?"
"No. We have a problem. Well, two actually. The first is that if we continue on this course, we will have to cross a roadway about twenty klicks in front of us at LimaJuliet 582. Worse is that if we follow this road, the intersection with the highway has several places where people stop. While the road traffic is light enough this late that we should have no trouble in that regard, there are a lot of people out in the area around the intersection."
I pull up my Battlemap as she says this. Zooming in, I notice the intersection isn't actually a direct walk across. The road north is actually a little to the west, on the edge of a cluster of buildings. There is something else, the area is completely surrounded by sharp hills with just the narrow gaps for the roadways through them.
She continues, "It is just over ten klicks east of where I hot dropped for our 'pirate' raid; the territory is very rough. I'm very concerned that we will not be able to get the vehicles through without either they or our 'Mechs being spotted."
I zoom back a bit to look for an alternative.
"The second problem is that there has been activity within five klicks of our little hideout. Recent activity." She seems to pause, then, "Recent 'Mech activity. A patrol route from the look."
"You think Ms. Abboud set us up?"
"I do not know. You did say she mentioned something about the survivors from the other unit hiding in a mine to the north."
"Have they been near the one we are headed for?"
"No, there are no tracks and there isn't any seismic signature there."
"Well, what do you recommend? I rather not be out in the open."
"Nor I. If you pull up you Battlemap, I can show you an option I took a quick walk over."
"Already up."
"Very good." She sounds impressed. "There is a turnoff about ten kilometers north at KiloZulu 583. It is narrow, but paved; if we keep the 'Mechs off on the south side, we can move us all along at a better pace than we have been able to maintain here. Can you see where it turns north?"
"KiloZulu 565."
"Very good, Commander. When it turns north it does meander a bit, but makes the crossroad at the point where there do not seem to be any buildings or other reasons for people to congregate. The road is straight enough for a couple clicks on either side that we could see vehicle lights at a distance. With a bit of careful spotting, we can cross there undetected."
I zoom the map a bit and see that the road north of it looks more twisty. For that matter, it seems to head northeast while the mine at that point will be northwest.
"But doesn't that take us the wrong way?"
"There is another way in from the north, I actually think it is the old miner's road. We would be going out of our way by several hours, but what I saw of the route makes me think we are safer that way and if we get going now, we should be able to make it there before local dawn."
It all makes sense.
"I think this is what we need to do. Do the other vehicles have a tunneling thing too?"
"No, just 'Mechs."
"Oh, well, I guess one of us will have to dismount and let the others know."
"Yes. I need to keep the field on to cover us, so..."
I chuckle, "Yeah, I know. I'll flash when I'm back and you can lead out."
"Well, until we reach the turn. Then you will have to walk in front and Lt. Tavares behind with the vehicles bunched pretty close together. Remember that the ECM only covers a radius of 180 meters."
"Got it. Be right back."
…..
My right hand is swollen again. Now that I am in front, my throttle is maybe more important, but my shoulder, too, is alive with fire.
The bouncing hell is over, but now I feel every vibration with only as much padding as I have... er... as standard original equipment... Ok, the part of me I sit on. For better or worse, right now that doesn't seem like much.
Ahead, a pair of headlights rounds a distant bend: they are coming right at us. There is no real choice, our vehicles would get bogged in mud the minute they leave the road. But part of me balks at killing an innocent someone just because they are in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Radio silence be damned, I key up on the command sequence, "you three stay on the road. We'll move clear and rejoin you after they pass or you pass them. Or if you need help."
I turn right and hope the other two follow suit quickly. The oncoming vehicle seems to be moving pretty fast, it will be close enough to see us if we are not 500 meters or more off the road in the next minute, tops.
Our vehicles keep moving, acting like there is no reason for concern.
I, however, am sure I have done the wrong thing. Should I head back and stop the oncoming lights? The others are with me in the downpour's gloom, a small group of lanky trees hides my larger frame.
What looks like a small pickup rushes past each of the vehicles, then speeds on into the night.
I wonder if the others are as relieved as I am.
…..
The rain has slacked off a bit. I think I can actually see details of trees and the hills behind them. Indeed, there almost opposite me must be the valley the road is supposed to follow; it is a darkness that deepens with distance.
Wind gusts have picked up and we are having trouble keeping the tarp secured over the salvage loaded on the lowboy. While Master Wolte and Ensign Marks fight to further restrain the wannabe sail, our three "Mechs are standing bunched close together on a slight rise. I can only just make out the road a kilometer and a half ahead, there have been no vehicles on it for the ten minutes or so since we arrived.
I wonder how Anne is doing in the Land Train. At least it has driver assist, a simple ai that might make it easier on her cast laden legs. I don't envy her, though.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the hand-held light flashing in my direction; it is the signal Lloyd had suggested to indicate they are ready. I turn towards the 3L and flash my running lights. Fatima repeats the signal to Sonya and we all three turn towards the vehicles in the roadway.
Slowly, I walk down the hill. Trying not to lose Fatima's ECM or the bus on my left takes a lot of attention, and I nearly miss the fact that just before the crossroads the gap between the trees narrows to barely the width of the road. Lloyd in the bus is oblivious and is into and through the narrow tunnel without me beside him. Hanse, fortunately, is paying attention and I slip in front of him to make the passage. Ok, the Black Knight is so broad that I break quite a few branches, but after such a storm, wouldn't that be normal?
No lights in either direction. After stopping to check, Ensign Marks drives on across the highway as we had agreed. I, too, step across, trying to be careful not to step too close to the intersection. The bus slows to a crawl about a klick out, waiting for us to catch up. I am not too far behind, but turn to cover the crossing for the rest. Each vehicle makes their way to where the bus is all but parked, and both Ravens do so as well.
Well, that was easy.
We all turn up the valley and find the going is pretty good. There is a rain-swollen stream fighting with the boulders that litter it for a safe passage to the river and there are many conifers in loose stands that might be just as the terraformers dropped them.
…..
Just below level with my cockpit is a ball of some sort, floating in the air. It is maybe thirty meters ahead of me and I might easily have missed it if it wasn't swinging as if in the wind.
Again, Llody has missed the fact that I have stopped and is driving ahead anyway; this time the rest of the vehicles follow. From behind me a searchlight blasts out into the darkness and night vision in my visor turns it into a brilliant light.
"Wires." Fatima's voice announces as the light goes off.
The brake lights come on on all three vehicles.
I get it, those are power lines. Big ones.
There is a flashing behind me and I turn to see the 3L running lights blinking merrily. Well, she does stop once she is sure I know we need to tunnel.
…..
"So they are below your cockpit?" Fatima asks.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"This is my mistake, it never occurred to me to look up."
"Will they electrocute me if I just walk through them?"
"It doesn't matter. If the wires were damaged like that, there would be crews out quickly and it won't be difficult to identify or find us."
The command sequence comes to life, "We need to move on from here." There is urgency in Master Wolte's voice. He is right, all the more so because now we are using the comms as well; with this terrain we are boxed in and would be easy targets from the air.
"The BK can't go under these wires, we have to turn around and go back or he will be give us away." Lieutenant Al-Zafirah states.
"No." I don't really know why I say it, but I do. "Take everyone else on to the mine and set up camp. Leave this sequence up and if I get in trouble, I'll let you know."
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know yet, I'm making this up as I go."
"Pull up your BM, Commander." I think that is Lloyd.
My what? Oh, BattleMap. I do and say so.
"Do you see the river along the 549 line?"
"Yes."
"If the power lines follow the trail I think they do, they cross it at LimaNovember 549. I bet the lines cross that river valley either under the river or high above it... much higher than your highest antenna."
If I loosely parallel the highway, I could reach that river road and work my way up past the wires. I am about to key up when it occurs to me that there are no straight roads back. If I do this, I might not be able to make it to the mine before morning.
Fatima seems to be thinking the same thing, "No, he would be exposed."
"Lieutenant, get them to safety. I will get there as soon as I can. If I don't make it by local midnight tomorrow, you can backtrack the shortest route on the north side of those wires."
"NO."
I hear myself say it before I have taken time to think, "That is an order, Lieutenant."
Silence.
I know I shouldn't have said that.
Silence still.
Finally, "Yes, Sir."
"I'll call if something bad happens."
Silence. No one is moving, either.
"Look, I've already gotten one of us killed tonight. If you want me to lead, please don't question this choice." I think for a moment, then add, "And if any of you want to lead instead, please just say so."
Still no reply or movement.
"Go, people!" I say while turning back towards the highway. In my rear view I see brake lights on the vehicles come on, then what appears to be their rolling on up the valley. Now a silhouette of a Raven crosses their lights, it is moving behind them. I don't see the other Raven, but trust that they will do as I asked.
…...
This was a mistake. Another one. Great leader I turned out to be. Well, if I survive this, I bet they choose someone else. I hope they do.
I hurt. Really, really hurt. I'm not even to the river yet and I hurt so bad I just want to park this piece of junk, walk away, and just let it self-destruct. Whatever got into me to think I could pilot it? I should have just left it sit in the Tornado wreck and blown it to bits. I would be in the 2x and with everyone else. We would be almost to shelter. I wouldn't be trying to keep this torture chamber on legs moving.
How far have I come along the highway? Ten klicks? Fifteen? The river can't be that far ahead.
I pull up the Battlemap and my stomach churns; I realize that pain must make the distances pass more slowly... I have maybe gone seven kilometers towards the river, with more than that again still ahead before I get there.
I suddenly find myself missing Lisa. Wishing I could even endure her insane speeding again. I long for the hint of anything that would unwind the hours and free her from a pointless death, but nothing in this universe will undo what has been done. My guilt is a blanket, soaked in her blood and weighed down with my own incompetence.
The 'Mech crunches along through the underbrush. Maybe if I gave it to them, told them the others had all died, and asked only to go home, they would see my age and send me home like the foolish kid I am.
Fool. Yup. Writ large.
A particularly sharp jolt brings me up short and I am instantly needlessly angry.
"STOP THAT!" I yell at the mindless machine, irrespective of the fact that it can no more stop when I'm keeping the throttle up than I can warp space-time and jump it over the power lines. I feel still more foolish at letting my temper fail so badly again, but that feeling does nothing to diminish the runaway emotion.
Naomi offers a bit of counterpoint, "If you wish me to stop any command, you must first issue one and then request that it be stopped or canceled."
"I wasn't talking to you."
"Is there someone else in your cockpit?"
"No, of course not."
"Who were you ordering to 'stop that!' then?"
"In a moment it will be you to stop asking me stupid questions!"
In the ensuing silence, I am left to my pain... well, and the many little sounds of a moving 'Mech. Ok, it isn't really silent, but it's close.
…..
My granda once told me the legend of the supposed first Brian in our family, Brian Boru. He was a hero and fought against invaders and won. He endured trials and hardships. Oh, and he lived nearly two thousand years ago. Granda wanted me to understand and be inspired by that old king. Well, it didn't work, then or now. Right now, when I could actually use inspiration, all I can think of is that I'm glad I wasn't there back then. I'm so inadequate against just about any task that has come my way and I honestly just wish the walk could end so I could cry silently in a corner somewhere while my body tries to recover from this abuse.
…..
There are brief gaps between the squalls where starlight makes the scene before me almost wonderful.
I have reached a vantage above the river where I can study it's channel as it narrows into a curvaceous gorge. Down-river from here the opposite seems to happen, the flow follows it's slow winding delta into the mouth of a huge lake. Across the river to the east, a minor range of mountains is nevertheless offering peaks with white mantles to the cloud eyes and the stars they contain.
It would be a perfect scene, idyllic in so many ways and maybe even spectacular in daylight were it not for one thing: about a klick in front of me is a tower of some sort that my sensors are reporting as an enemy. It stands between me and the road up the gorge towards my freedom, holding the mouth of the canyon like a guard dog watches his family's home. It taunts me through the dark, daring me to make a decision and waiting to convert any mistake on my part into disaster for the rest of my team.
I just sit and look at it. I know I need to do something, but what? Every thought seems to offer an answer is immediately followed by forty times the problems against it. "Indecision" is suddenly my middle name.
…..
I am still trying to make up my mind. The mission clock says it has been almost two hours that I have held this spot. Self-loathing and recrimination duel with doubt and inability to decide what I can, much less should, do.
The few partings in the clouds have gotten fewer, and the clouds themselves have drifted down the far mountainsides to shroud most of the uplands. Unexpectedly, a gap comes that is not dark on the other side: dawn is almost here!
Where can I hide? How can I hide? There are no big trees here, just scrubby juniper-like conifers and lots of boulders. No time to go back. No time to go up the canyon even it the tower wasn't there. I look back towards the lake and remember that I can take a 'Mech underwater; well, if the water is deep enough.
I need to get to the river. I need to do it now, or the tower will spot me in the growing light. Throttle up. Pain re-screams of the ill I am suffering my body to endure. I am moving anyway.
There is a narrow road that runs along the river bank. It is deserted and I am striding into it's broad shoulder to cross it. One leg swings over it. I feel the weight moving forward.
Down the road a kilometer or so to the south a semi rounds a corner; ablaze with it's late night "day" floodlights on, I have no doubt I am visible. Not just a silhouette, but with that much candlepower I bet they can spot rust and dents. On into the river I stride the Black Knight, not waiting to find out what interest I might have for the trucker.
Rats! It isn't deep enough! A quick glance over my shoulder tells me the driver isn't slowing down, but I'm not going to stand here and let him call me in. I wade on towards the far shore. I'm three quarters of the way across when I finally find a deepening channel and can walk deep enough to submerge myself into the silted river. I go on a short way and then stop to consider my situation.
Hmmmm, maybe I can get part way home after all. If it stays deep enough maybe I can slip upriver towards the north, maybe even get far enough to be under the power lines and ready to move when darkness comes. Lotta "maybes" there, but I guess it can't hurt to try... well, any more than any other walking in this hurts.
