B. Larson - Extinction

When we were gathered in the shelter of the wrecked tank, I realized we were never going to make it to the corral forest on foot. It was more than a hundred yards of open ground away, and the enemy fire was increasing by the minute, cover or no. Overhead, lasers flashed into the forest and Worm rifles puffed back. Sometimes a Worm thrashed in the coral-looking stuff, flipping and burning. Sometimes one of my marines pitched back, screaming. But they had us pretty well pinned down.

“Captain Roku!” I shouted into my command channel. “What do you have for me?”

“We’ve got a plan, sir.”

“Talk to me.”

“We’ll roll each tank out of the tunnel with a rope-a nanite rope-attached to it. With our marines and another tank holding onto it, we should keep the momentum down to a slow roll. I should have the first tank down there in another few minutes.”

I nodded to myself. He wasn’t going to get down here within ten minutes. In fact, it sounded like it would be closer to half an hour. But I doubted he could do any better. “Okay, do it. But what is the state of this tank down here? Is your pilot alive in there?”

“Yes sir, he’s injured, compound leg fracture. But you don’t really need your legs as a tanker.”

“Good point. Name?”

“Warrant Officer Sloan, sir.”

I opened a private channel with Sloan. “Can you run your machine, Sloan?”

“Yes sir, but the enemy are out of range at the moment-”

“I don’t want you to shoot. I want you to throw out your flanges. I want you to head right toward the forest and let us get behind you. Take us right into the forest.”

“I’m on it, sir.”

Within a minute, Sloan managed to glide his tank forward. I watched it transform, puffing up around the forward section like a cobra puffing up its hood. The tank listed noticeably to the right. I could tell his gravity-repellors on that side were shot, but he could still drive it. I ran behind the tank, and my troops followed me. This maneuver we’d practiced hundreds of times back home. First employed by the Germans in World War II, this tactical maneuver provided moving cover for infantry on an open battlefield. We hugged the spread shields of the slowly rolling tank, using the cover from enemy fire to the front. When we reached the enemy lines, we would spread out and mop up. As long as the enemy didn’t have any heavy weaponry of their own, or outflank us, we should be able to take them out.

The first fifty yards went well. It was about then, I think, that the Worms realized what we were doing. They stopped firing at the tank, which was immune to their small arms. They began to dig instead.

“Watch for Worms,” I said. “They might dig under our feet.”

The big gun on the tank spoke then, flaring up with a tremendous glow of heat. Swathes of coral-like growth blackened and curled. Worms caught by the fantastic heat and power of the big, short-range cannon exploded into vapor and twisted remains. It was as if we’d applied a blow torch to a squirming nest of maggots.

When we were very near the coral forest line, we learned what the enemy had been up to. They’d dug tunnels in the earth in our path, right below the surface. When our tank glided over one of them, it collapsed and the right side of the vehicle sank down with a sudden, sickening lurch. The brainbox was inexperienced in actual combat. The stabilizers whined, overloaded. Like a panicked animal, the tank thrashed and overcompensated, trying to lift itself upward. As it was already weak on the right side, applying more thrust caused the entire tank to heel over onto its side. The big gun, still firing, exploded upon contact with the surface.

“That’s our cue, boys! Scatter and advance!” I screamed.

I led by example, charging toward the corral forest past the burning wreckage of the drill-tank. Feet pounded behind me, but I didn’t bother to look to see who followed and who didn’t. A few men were sucked under by greedy Worms, who squirmed in the soft soil beneath us.

I drew out my hand-beamer, and burned anything that looked remotely dangerous. I let my rifle dangle, as my injured arm wasn’t ready to handle it yet. My goggles flared and darkened in strobing, confusing pulses, dark-light-dark , as men fired around me. The goggles prevented blindness, but the effect was still disconcerting upon the mind.

The moment I reached the corral forest, I threw myself on my belly. I landed painfully on my damaged arm, which didn’t quite cooperate and flopped down ahead and under my body. I sucked in a breath and let it out as a hiss, suppressing a scream.

Still hissing, I squirmed on my belly, like one of the Worm troops. When I had reached a decently covered spot, I chinned my com-link and called for Kwon to advance with his squad as soon as he was able. We needed a position staked out in the forest before the enemy could surround us.

“Push ‘em back, men,” I told those that joined me in our burning crystalline forest. “Everyone get under cover and burn everything that squirms.”

I looked back at the ground between the wrecked tank and the forest line. I counted six dead marines and I mentally added Warrant Officer Sloan to the list. But then the tanker came crawling over and tapped my leg.

I grunted in surprise. “How the hell did you get out of there, Sloan?”

“These tanks can practically run themselves you know, sir.”

“Yeah,” I said, looking back at the burning tank. I knew all about scripts for Nano machines. Obviously, Sloan had given the vehicle its instructions, then slipped out the back and followed his own tank on foot with the rest of us. I thought about reprimanding him for abandoning his post, but really, it had turned out to be pretty good thinking on his part.

There were about twenty of us holed up in a circle of ground we’d taken in the forest. I worked toward an area with lot of scattered stones on the ground. This was the first spot I’d found rocks of any kind down here in Worm land. I realized this must be natural, real Helios earth, not the compressed sawdust and worm-shit we’d dug through to get here. In this spot, the enemy would have a tougher time undermining us.

It seemed to take a very long time for Kwon’s group to press the attack. I realized, looking back, that they had their hands full. The tanks were rolling down one at a time. The nanite ‘ropes’ worked well. The tanks could glide over the rough terrain, but the downward angle was too great for them to negotiate without overbalancing in this heavy-gravity environment. I thought to myself I should have designed them lower to the ground, for more stability.

We held back the Worms with our superior firepower, but they were growing in numbers with each passing minute. It was only a matter of time until they brought in a super-worm with cannons to wipe us out, or overran us with sheer numbers.

Finally, after what seemed far longer than was reasonable, Roku had his tanks down out of the tunnel and onto the floor of the big cavern. He had the tanks extend their flanges and rolled them toward our position. Large groups of marines followed every tank, hugging the back of the machines for cover.

The Worms, seeing they were about to be outgunned, decided to go for it. They charged us from every angle, and some dug underneath, collapsing the soil under our bellies. My hand-beamer radiated heat right through my glove. Twisting, heaping bodies flopped everywhere, out numbering the strange, tree-like growths themselves. Finally, my beamer quit. My powerpack was still good, so I figured it must have been the lens. I reached for my rifle, but saw I’d lost it somewhere along the way. The thick, black cable ran down to a frayed end.

I ditched my powerpack it and drew out my knife, because about then, they were getting in close. I still had the power unit built into my suit. It was enough to run the air conditioners and the rebreather.