And his units were on the wrong side of the Ninth Corps. Since they were guarding the south flank, if the corps broke the Posleen would be swarming in behind them. And that was just a matter of time. There was a pretty strong rumor that MP units had been stationed behind the line with orders to shoot deserters.
None of it would matter for much longer. When the levee broke, none of it would matter a hill of beans.
“We’re holding the south flank of the corps, sir.” Actually they were holding the south flank of Lake Jackson. Lake Jackson itself was anchoring the south flank of the corps. “The area has been quiet. We had one God King come this way with one of their companies, but we took care of it without significant casualties.”
There was less than a brigade in total holding the line. Most of them weren’t even infantry. Clerks and cooks and the officers’ band. Everything that was left of Tenth Corps less DivArty.
The casualties when the Posleen company hit had been less than a platoon’s worth. On the other hand, this was all that was left of a corps. There was some sort of calculation there that he didn’t want to think about. Would that platoon be the equivalent of a battalion to a corps? And if so, should they be considered the same as the loss of a battalion? “So far so good?” he finished.
“I understand that you were in the retreat from the interstate?” The question was asked without any emotional overtones, but Leper felt Keren bristling behind him.
“We were the rear guard. Sir,” the lieutenant said in an absolute monotone.
“What do you estimate the Posleen forces as?”
“Sir?”
“How many of them are there, Lieutenant?” the colonel asked with iron patience.
The exhausted officer goggled at him for a moment. “Is this a trick question?”
“No.” The blank of faceted plasteel was nearly invisible and even if it weren’t there was no way to see the officer’s expression. The question was nonsensical.
“Sir, there are more than the stars in the sky, more than the blades of grass, more than the trees in the forest. One good look is all it takes. They fill the world from horizon to horizon and every fucking one of them is trying to kill you!”
The armor was still and silent for a pause. “So, how did you survive?”
Leper blinked rapidly and thought about all the ones that didn’t. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I oughta be dead.” He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“We lost — oh, Christ. Forget losing the company and the Old Man to the artillery. We lost ’em like a river loses water! Sometimes I’d have fifty, sixty troops. The next thing you know, we’d just stop for a second to… to get a breather, to… to reconsolidate, hell, to find out who the hell was hanging on the vehicles. And then they’d come. And… and the next thing you knew we were back on the road, running as fast as we could. And we’d have maybe two squads. And that’d happen over and over.” His hand was over his eyes now and he shook his head continuously.
“I don’t know how many went through my hands, Colonel. I don’t know how many I lost along the road. I don’t know how many we passed. Some of them just gave up. Some of them were injured. Some of them were just tired of running. I don’t know their names!” The lieutenant drew himself up and tried to clear his eyes.
The colonel reached up and removed his helmet. The solid pyramid of plasteel came away with a sucking sound. A tap of a control and the suit began to glow a faint blue, just enough to give some vision.
“Have you been debriefed at all?” the senior officer asked in a gentle, surprised voice.
“No, sir,” Keren answered for the lieutenant when the officer just shook his head. “When we rolled into Ninth Corps territory they got rid of us like we had the plague. They just told us to come over here and get our shit together. And don’t walk on the grass.”
The colonel nodded his head at the answer. “Well, Lieutenant, I think you did just fine.” The tone was firm and believable. The colonel put his hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder. “Son, that was hell. I know. I’ve been in hell too.”
The lieutenant looked up at the officer and took a deep, shuddering breath.
“My company had a week-long firefight in Dak-To. We would lose a couple and then get a resupply then lose them as often as not. I never knew who the hell was in the holes. At the end of the whole thing the VC just melted back into the jungle. I had fifteen left in the company that started the battle, including me. I had worked my way through nearly two hundred troops in those weeks. I’d use them like pouring water in a well. I didn’t recognize any of those names. Nobody else in the company did either.”
“No records, sir,” said the lieutenant, quietly.
“No. And that will probably haunt you. But there is still a job to do. Are you gonna do it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You got observation posts out?”
“Yes, sir. So far nothing except the one company.”
“Patrols?”
“No. I’ve got one going out in a couple of hours. The Posleen have got to find this edge sooner or later. But we only got finished digging in a couple of hours ago. If I sent out a patrol right now, they’d go out a couple of hundred yards and rack out.”
“All right,” said the colonel. At least the lieutenant had a grasp on reality. “Just as well you don’t have a patrol out there. We’re gonna pass through your lines in about ten minutes. Then we’re gonna stroll on down Bristow Road and try to take the Posleen like the monkey took the miller’s wife. It might work and it might not. But there’s a chance that we’re gonna be coming back about as fast as we went out. You gonna be here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. How ’bout you, Keren?”
“Maybe,” said the private. “Depends on who gets here first. If it’s the Posleen, you better be ready to walk back to the mountains.”
“Fair enough,” the colonel said and put his helmet back on. The blue glow of the armor faded after a moment as he rolled his shoulders. “ ‘Bout time to go, don’t you think?”
Ardan’aath snarled as yet another road to the north was bypassed. “Can we not turn yet?” he raged. He pointed to the north with his plasma cannon, where the thunder of artillery and rockets could be clearly heard. Beams of light and orange tracers could be seen ascending into the sky. “There! There is where the battle is!” He fired a spiteful plasma burst towards the distant battleline.
“Soon,” soothed Kenallai. He glanced at his eson’antai. “Soon?”
“Soon,” agreed the young Kessentai, fluffing his crest in thanks. “Up ahead is the road. Arnata’dra has already turned up it.”
“Finally!” snarled the older Kessentai. “The battle will be over before we can make this stupid turn!”
“Ardan’aath,” said Kenallai, “look you at the results of charging these thresh head on! There are more oolt’ondai dead at the feet of these thresh than Po’os in the Swarm!”
Ardan’aath fluffed his crest in anger but had to agree. The thrice-damned harvest of this world was damnably capable at battle. He had finally reviewed the information from Aradan 5, when no one was watching. The metal-clad thresh would be formidable foes. He had begun to consider how to fight them and had a few ideas. He hoped he would not be forced to test them.