B. Larson - Extinction

The Worm shuddered in reaction. I could tell it had never felt the burning sensation of our weapons before. Unfortunately, the output of our weapons was nowhere near enough to kill it. Enraged, the Worm began to thrash and struck down with its flashing feet, each the size of a man. Bricks tumbled and crashed. The beams kept flashing, cooking Wormskin and the wet meat beneath.

“ Abandonment of equipment without cause weakens the value of the ground forces, ” said the Macro Command voice calmly.

“You’ve got to get us out of here, sir!” said Captain Sarin, screaming to be heard.

I thought hard, my eyes wide. “Marines, you may fire at will!” I commanded.

More beams leapt up, stinging the monster. We only managed to anger it further. Mad with pain, it writhed and snapped with greater energy. I realized, as it destroyed my encampment, it was only a matter of time until the Worm turned toward the Macro ship. With the hold doors open and with us inside, it would no doubt come in here for a snack. I knew from experience the big ones didn’t die easily. And this one looked to be about ten times the size of any I’d seen before.

I decided to give Macro Command one more chance to see reason. “We have no need for the abandoned equipment,” I said, shouting into my link to be heard over the crash and roar of the great Worm. “Fighting this biotic would cost us more in terms of effectiveness than leaving the equipment will cost us.”

Another hesitation. It seemed to be a very long one, but perhaps that was only because the Worm was twisting about, looking for fresh prey. Then the head turned, and lunged directly into the Macro hold.

“ Abandonment of equipment without cause weakens the value of the ground forces.”

“Sir!” buzzed Major Robinson in my ear. “I think we can take it down, sir. You brought two hovertanks back from the mountain. If we concentrate their fire at the head-”

“No,” I said. “Man your post.”

“Why not, Colonel?” Robinson demanded in exasperation.

“Because the Worm has already destroyed our last hovertanks. Only a few drill-tanks are left, and they haven’t got the range.”

The great head dipped down into the Macro ship twice more. Each time a beam turret, along with a marine and the brick he stood upon was removed.

“Macro Command, my forces are being erased. It is imperative that we take off right now.”

“ Abandonment of equipment without cause weakens the value of the ground forces.”

“I assure you, we will still be an effective fighting force!” I shouted into my microphone. My words were relayed up to Macro Command.

More marines were devoured-their beamers and bricks all sucked into the monster’s maw without a trace.

“ Assurance accepted. Lift-off imminent. ”

I didn’t have time to ponder exactly why the Macros changed their mind. I figured I would worry about that later.

“Everybody back away from the doors!” I roared. My men retreated deeper into the dark hold, firing as they went.

The Macros didn’t bother to close the doors. It would have taken too long. They simply lifted the ship’s nose-the cargo entrance-and applied thrust. The bricks didn’t go flying, fortunately. Our magnetic clamps saw to that. Many of my men were not so lucky. As the floor heaved up under their feet, they stumbled at first, then flew tumbling into the stack of bricks behind them. Loose equipment and the surviving hovertanks slid along, revving hopelessly to stabilize themselves. Men were crushed and mangled. Many fell all the way to the distant back wall of the hold, where they lay in a tangle of broken limbs. Few of them died, however. My nanotized marines were beyond tough, and survived where normal men would have perished. Over the next few days of healing, however, many of them came to wish they had died.

The great doors at the front of the hold closed with agonizing slowness. When they finally clanged shut, cutting out the red glare of the giant sun, they left us in the cold and dark. Men groaned, hissed and sobbed. Some begged to be dug out of wreckage. Others shouted with glee to be off Helios and back into space.

All told, Riggs’ Pigs had lost over two thirds our complement of human lives in the Helios campaign. We had a fighting strength of less than two thousand men. Very few of those I’d taken with me into the Worm stronghold remained standing.

We figured out later Major Robinson had been swallowed by the giant Worm, along with many others. One of the turrets the monster had decided to devour had been manned by the Major himself. Of my entire command staff, only Captain Sarin still lived.

“It’s too bad we didn’t kill that damned giant,” Sandra said to me during the first quiet moment we had in our quarters.

“The Worms are going to need that monster to hollow out a new mound,” I said.

“I’m surprised you care about them at all. What are we going to do now, Kyle?”

“We’ll go home. We’ll build up, and next year when the Macros come for another load of cannon-fodder, well, we might have a surprise of our own waiting for them.”

“You’re talking about starting the war again.”

“What do you call this?” I asked.

“At least we won,” she said.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, we didn’t. The war never ended, and we just killed our own side.”

Sandra folded herself in my lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The Worms were on our side. I’m beginning to understand this universe now. We are organic life-and the machines are our real enemies. They are living death.”

“I want all this bloodshed to be over,” she said.

“Well, it’s not over. We’re in it deep. But I’m thinking about a new kind of war. A war of flesh against machine. This time, we won’t be kissing any big, metal behinds. And we’ll be fighting on the right side.”

“Can you do one thing for me, Colonel?” she asked.

I looked at her. Our faces were close, but we didn’t kiss. “Name it.”

“Don’t take me with you next time.”

I huffed. “Then don’t ask to come.”

“I’ll have to ask. Just tell me no.”

I smiled. “You know I can’t do that.”

Sandra finally stopped talking and we kissed. For a short time, life was good.