Майк Резник - SNAFU - Future Warfare

Tantas watched the hivers harvesting the rest of the battalion.

“Don't look. Don't look back,” ordered Sergeant, running past.

Tantas ran. Him ran. Him ran.

Eventually the running stopped. Sergeant told them to take a rest in the shade of three bast-wood trees. The foliage giving them good cover.

“What happened, Sergeant?” asked Tantas.

Sergeant pushed his helmet up. “We lost. Them infiltrated the armour ware.”

“How we escape?” asked Map.

“No attack is perfect,” said Sergeant. “We was lucky.”

Joy said, “I saw others running. We no the only ones.”

Tantas said, “The other sergeants did the same as you. They'll be others who escaped.”

“That's right,” said Sergeant. “Then we head for the rendezvous, meet up, reform. We still got the helmets. Comms will come back online.” Him tapped the belt slung over his chest. “And I've still got some volatile ware, if we encounter any hivers. We be all right.”

“We're outmatched. Them outclass us at every step,” said Map.

“Maybe we need to step a little faster then,” said Joy.

“What you mean?” asked Map.

“We take the fight to them,” said Joy. “We infiltrate them. Do what them no expecting.”

Tantas felt drunk listening to Joy talk. Her magnificent. Fearless. And him felt good, too. Him no given way to his fears. Him done it. Him wanted to do it again. Make some payback for the others. “We should do it, Sergeant.”

“We should regroup,” said Sergeant.

“No,” said Tantas. “We should get into the hiver nest and destroy it.”

Barns said, “We should destroy the Queen and every filthy hiver.”

“How we going to that?” asked Sergeant. “You know where the Queen is? Any of you?”

“We should try,” said Joy.

“Well, this no democracy,” said Sergeant. “We follow orders. We go to the rendezvous.” Him stand. Him start running. Him angry.

They run for hours until Sergeant calls the stop. Them camped in a cave with a narrow mouth, giving plenty of view of the landscape. Plenty of time to see that nobody creep up on them. Also a trickle of water, coming through the stone, which Sergeant declared clean enough to drink.

Tantas was eating his rations when Joy came and sat beside him. “You've come a long way haven't you? You full of fire now.”

Tantas nodded. “Is it like this for everyone?”

“It's different for everyone, but yeah, I've seen it before with novices.”

“I wasn't scared, Joy.” Seemed curious to him. “There was no Phobus or Deimus for me.”

Barns glared at them.

“Got a problem, Barns?” asked Joy.

“You could say that,” her said. “Talk, talk, talk that all you ever do, Wordsworth. You a man who loves to talk. That's 'bout all you good for.”

“We sorry for your loss,” said Joy. Her bit off a mouthful of dry nutra and chewed it slowly.

Tantas nodded, but said nothing, words were inadequate in the face of Trigger's death. But his silence seemed to provoke Barns. “Best no be solider, if all you want to do is talk,” her said.

“Leave him be,” said Sergeant.

“Well,” said Barns. “I no like him yammering all the time. Deimus this and Phobus that, dressing it all in language, and not seeing the real thing.”

Joy must have told her about Deimus and Phobus. Them been discussing him, maybe laughing at him. “They're the real things, Barns,” Tantas said. “You know, timeless things.”

“Timeless? Ha. Well, let me tell you something, boy ...”

“Him no boy,” said Sergeant, “by any reckoning of the word. Leave it.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” said Barns. Her walked to the mouth of the cave. Her stepped outside, angry, malicious, wounded.

“Should I talk to her?” asked Tantas.

Sergeant shook his head. “You don't want to go there, trust me.”

“I don't think she likes me.”

Sergeant frowned. “Well, what you expect? Her just killed Trigger. Her like you well enough. Her just no want to know you. Her thinks you going to end up dead.” Sergeant took a swallow of his water. “You just have to prove her wrong, eh?”

They tired, half naked, open to the harsh heat of the sun. They running in the direction of Alice Town garrison. That was the rendezvous.

“We head there 'til we hear different,” said Sergeant.

“We going out die out here, aren't we?” asked Map, joking maybe. Tantas wondered if him could hear fear underneath.

“We not dead, yet,” said Sergeant. “Look ahead, atop that hill.”

“Looks like one of the old building,” said Joy, “from the first-wave colony.”

“We make our way towards it,” said Sergeant. Him tapped his helmet. “Comm's still not working. That building is good shelter. Might be some food in there and water close by. People don't build where there's no water.”

At the edge of the hill, behind some scrub, them lie down flat to reconnoitre the building.

“Wordsworth and Barns, you go and check it out,” said Sergeant. “Watch your backs.”

Them run to the ruin, half-crouched to present a small target. Barns pushed open the door, Tantas first to go inside. The smell of decay smother him like a heavy blanket. Dirt on the windows, heaped on the surfaces. All dark and quiet. Barns joined him. When them took a few steps, a shadow moved.

“Show yourself,” said Barns. Her voice all nerve-strung. “Could be a hiver,” she whispered, shining the helmet light, this way, that, her finger trembling on the trigger of her gun. “Show yourself.”

Tantas stared at the darkness, willing it to resolve. His hand also on the trigger of his gun.

Again, the shadow moved. This time toppling over a big shelf of pans, glass goods smashing, jam like blood onto the floor, gherkins like tiny-babies released from the amniotic vinegar, acid and jam.

“What the hell?” said Tantas. Him nearest, closing the distance toward the movement, hand still on the gun, stepping on broken glass, helmet lights ripping into the darkness. “It's a boy, Barns.”

“Hiver?”

“No. Listen. He's crying.”

Them both heard him crying, great rasping sobs. Not a hiver. Them no make a noise, even when you slice them up, their pain diffused through their mind join. So shadow-boy ain't no hiver.

“Keep your gun on him.” Barns kicked through doors, checking, establishing safety. “Clean,” her said. “I'll tell Sergeant.” Her left Tantas with the crying boy.

Him look a bit closer. Shadow-boy is a kid 'bout sixteen. “We're army,” Tantas said. It felt good to be saying that. It felt strange to be saying that.

The boy murmured, half sounds, like an animal. Tantas knelt beside him. When him lifted the boy's face, him see the crazed eye and the glint of canker metal matted in the boy's head. “Jeez.”

“What is it?” asked Barns, walking back into the room.

“There's metal in his head.”

“Him hiver?”

Map and Joy entered with a lot of noise and questions. Them loomed over the boy. Him began to moan. Him looked pitiful weak, looking half-starved, his face grey with exhaustion.

“Who him?” asked Map.

“I don't know, hiver maybe. But a strange one,” said Tantas. “Back off. You're scaring him.”

“I'll take care of him,” said Barns, lifting her rifle. “Just one less for us to worry about.” Her sighted the boy, placing the death's eye smack in the middle of his chest. The boy seemed unaware what was going to happen. “Bye, bye,” said Barns.

“Are you crazy?” Tantas stepped between the gun's sight and the boy. “Wait.”

“Get out of the way, Wordsworth.”

The trigger point had transferred to Tantas' chest, maybe accidentally. Barns didn't lower it. Joy and Map, them just standing there. Letting it happen.