On the podium Governor Algers and I embrace, as well as we can with one of us in armor. The cheering people below know we’ve made a deal. This is good and bad for the governor. Wags will whisper, “The Guv’s accepting foreign aid,” which will weaken his grass roots support. Our help can make up for that weakness in the short term, but in the long term he’ll have to demonstrate he’s not some “lackey of the foreign devils.”
All five of us mercs are on the podium because I want double-crossing us to be difficult. I want the governor to remember that his people know he got on top with our help. We probably won’t be here long enough for this embrace to make a difference, but just in case … That done, we put Gunther and Johann back in the cellar and get on to the fun stuff.
<<<<*>>>>
The beginnings of wars are often nice. People are enthusiastic and gentlemanly. They play by the rules and they make lots of beginner mistakes. This is the first battle of this war and we are going to take full advantage of it.
After our public embrace we find out from our allies who the bigwigs in the surrounding federal army are, and by monitoring radio transmissions we soon find out where they are and when they are planning on moving into the city. It’s the traditional attack at dawn.
The sky is just turning a deep blue on the eastern side as Chin and I move out from the city. Al stays behind to provide a communications link and mind Gunther and Johann. Their vital signs are improving steadily but they are still sleeping.
It’s been a long day but we’ve had worse. Fifty-two hours of continuous action is my record. That was on Rigel in my hell-raising days before I met Chin. I fought and partied for three days straight, then spent an eternity recovering—somewhere along the line I’d broken two ribs. But not this time; if our plan goes well we’ll be resting by noon.
The enemy has positioned its headquarters for convenience: 20 kilometers from city center in a commercial district of an eastern suburb near a main artery headed for the city. The few enemy units defending it defend the road approaches, but our power armor does just fine moving through field, swamp, and forest.
This morning we play Capture the General. If we had a supply base behind us and planetary media people in front of us, we’d play MechWarriors and trash the armored vehicles headed for the city from front to back. The media would record our invincibility and there’d be terror across the planet. But we have only a few hours of fight, so we’re directing our terror to a target that can relieve this situation more directly.
We move to a deeply wooded river canyon that parallels the main artery. The river is low. It wanders over a wide bed of gravel. It’s perfect. We can sprint over the gravel and our sounds will be masked by the river’s rushing and tumbling. We slip by the first lines of scouts easily.
Six clicks later the river becomes a lake and the canyon walls turn to steep, bare rubble. There is a dam up ahead and the main road is just above us in the same canyon. We cut across the road and climb to the canyon rim just as a column of tanks lumbers west headed for city center.
“Mighty cocky driving through a narrow canyon without scouts on the rim,” I say.
“Frank, we don’t have time for a lot of bullshit,” says Chin.
“Yeah, but we’ve got time for a little bullshit.”
“Frank!”
I heft a meter-wide boulder. The reserve power kicks in and the armor hums with the strain. This is trickier than it looks. The boulder weighs about three times what I do, and if I don’t balance just right I’ll tip over and sort of sprong out from under it. I could end up anywhere within twenty meters, including over the edge.
But things work out right. I launch the boulder over the cliff edge without spronging, and seconds later it shatters on the top of the second tank in the column. The tank swerves left, right, then climbs the cliff wall until it flips on its back.
“Hee-yaw, what a score! You getting this, Al?”
“Male macho bullshit,” grumbles Chin.
“Chin, sweetie, didn’t you ever throw apples at cars as a kid! This is great,” says Al.
“No, are you crazy?”
“Well then, you don’t know what comes next, do you?” says Al.
“It feels good so you do it again? I told you, we don’t—”
I pick her up. “No, you run like hell so you don’t get caught!” and I sprint the rest of the way up the slope laughing. By the time I get to the top Chin is giggling and beating on my armor. “Put me down, you hunk.”
“Why, Chin, you finally noticed.”
“Maybe I was referring to Mary Mayking … maybe.”
I put her down. It’s a silly thing to watch, caressing in power armor, but when Chin does it, I feel ten feet tall. We continue our sprint for the headquarters.