Suddenly, one of the small bushes fifty metres away shimmered silver, and metamorphosed into a green-skinned hominoid with bug-eyes. Balls of white light shot away from his pointing hand. The two serjeants swivelled smoothly, lining their machine guns up on the apparition.
Ours,they told the rest of the squad. sinon squeezed the trigger down with his right index finger, while his left hand twisted the gun’s side grip, selecting the fire rate. The small chemical projectile cases reverberated loudly as they fired, smothering all other sounds. Ripples of static shivered over the end of the barrel as the pellets hammered into their target.
The static gun was the weapon which the Kingdom had developed to arm the serjeants for the Liberation. A simple enough derivative of an ordinary machine gun, the principal modification was to the bullet. Inert kinetic tips had been replaced by spherical pellets which carried a static charge. Their shape reduced their velocity from ordinary bullets (and their accuracy), though they could still inflict a lethal amount of damage on a human target, while their electrical discharge played havoc with the energistic ability of a possessed. Every pellet carried the same level of charge, but the variable rate of fire would allow the serjeants to cope with the different strengths of the individual possessed they encountered; and as the gun’s mechanism was mechanical, the possessed couldn’t glitch it—in theory.
It took three seconds of concentrated fire on the green monster before it stopped flinging white light back at Sinon and Choma. The image collapsed into an ordinary human male, who pitched forward. A holographic projector lens glinted in the bush behind it.
You were too slow to respond to the target’s strength,their supervisor told them, in a genuine combat situation his white fire would have disabled the pair of you. And, Sinon . . .
Yes?
Work on improving your aim, that entire first burst you fired was wide.
Acknowledged,sinon informed the supervisor curtly. he adopted singular engagement mode to talk to Choma. Wide shooting, indeed! I was simply bringing the gun round onto the target. Approaching fire can be a large psychological inhibitor.
Certainly can,choma replied with strict neutrality. he was scanning the land ahead, alert for new dangers. It would be just like the training ground controllers to hit them immediately again.
I think I am beginning to comprehend the gun’s parameters,sinon declared. My thought routines are assimilating its handling characteristics at an autonomic level.
Choma risked a mildly exasperated glance at his squad mate. That’s the whole point of this training. We can hardly accept a tutorial thought routine from a habitat, now can we? The Consensus didn’t even know about static guns when we left Saturn. Besides, I always said the best lessons are the ones you learn the hard way.
You and your atavistic Olympiad philosophy. No wonder it fell out of fashion by the time I was born.
But you’re getting the hang of it, aren’t you?
I suppose so.
Good. Now come on, we’d better advance to the building or we’ll wind up on latrine duty.
At least the serjeant’s lips and throat allowed Sinon to sigh plaintively. Very well.
Princess Kirsten had switched her retinal implants to full resolution so that she could watch the squads advancing over various sections of the training ground. There was a old saying running loose in her mind, as if one file was continually leaking from a memory celclass="underline" I don’t know about the enemy, but by God they frighten me. This was the first time she’d ever encountered the big bitek constructs outside of a sensevise. Their size and mien combined to make them both impressive and imposing; she was now rather glad Ralph Hiltch had the courage to suggest using them. At the time she’d been only too happy deferring the final choice to Allie. The family does so lack the bravery to make really important decisions, thank God he still has the guts. It was the same even when we were kids, we all waited for his pronouncement.
Several hundred of the dark figures were currently crawling, slithering, and in some cases running through the undergrowth, bushes, and long grass while colourful holographic images popped into existence to waylay them. The sound of gunfire rattled through the air; it was a noise she was becoming very familiar with.
“They’re making good progress,” Ralph Hiltch said. He was standing beside the Princess on the roof of the training ground’s management centre, which gave them an uninterrupted view over the rumpled section of land which the Liberation army had annexed. Their respective entourages were arranged behind them, officers and cabinet ministers forming an edgy phalanx. “It only takes two sessions on average to train up a serjeant. The support troops need a little longer. Don’t get me wrong, those marines are excellent troops; I don’t just mean the Kingdom’s, our allies have sent their best, and the mercs are formidable at the best of times. It’s just that they’re all way too reliant on their neural nanonic programs for fire control and tactics, so we really discourage their usage. If a possessed does break through the front line, that’s the first piece of equipment that’s going to glitch.”
“How many serjeants are ready?” Kirsten asked.
“About two hundred and eighty thousand. We’re training them up at the rate of thirty thousand a day. And there’s another five training grounds opening each day. I’d like the rate increased, but even with the Confederation Navy brigades, I’ve only got a limited number of engineering corps; I have to balance their assignments. Completing the accommodation sections of Fort Forward is my priority.”
“It would appear as though you have everything under control.”
“Simple enough, we just tell the AI what we want, and it designates for us. This is the first time in history a land army commander doesn’t have to worry unduly about logistics.”
“Providing a possessed doesn’t get near the AI.”
“Unlikely, ma’am; believe me, unlikely. And even that’s in our contingency file.”
“Good, I’d hate us to become overconfident. So when do you think you’ll be able to begin the Liberation?”
“Ideally, I’d like to wait another three weeks.” He acknowledged the Princess’s raised eyebrow with a grudging smile. They’d spent the best part of two hours that morning under the gaze of rover reporters, inspecting the tremendous flow of materiel and personnel surging through Fort Forward’s spaceport. To most people it looked as if they already had the military resources to invade a couple of planets. “Our greatest stretch is going to be the opening assault. We have to ring the entire peninsula, and it’s got to be one very solid noose, we can’t risk anything less. That’ll have to be achieved with inexperienced troops and untested equipment. The more time spent preparing, the greater chance we have for success.”
“I’m aware of that, Ralph. But you were talking about balance a moment ago.” She glanced back at Leonard DeVille, who responded with a reluctant twitch. “Expectations are running rather high, and not just here on Ombey. We’ve demanded and received a colossal amount of support from our political allies and the Confederation Navy. I don’t need to remind you what the King said.”
“No ma’am.” His last meeting with Alastair II, the time when he’d received his commission needed no file. The King had been adamant about the factors at play, the cost of external support, and the public weight of anticipation and belief.
Success. That was what everyone wanted, and expected him to deliver, on many fronts. And I have to give them that. This was all my idea. And my fault.