I took a deep breath. A block of ice had grown in my belly. Just talking about this stuff was difficult for me. There was no way they would be able to evacuate most of the population. How many millions would die? How many had already died? A hundred million? Two hundred million? What about the fallout? How much of the Earth would be poisoned afterward? I decided not to ask these questions. There was no purpose.
“General, what if they take to the seas?”
“They have not done so yet. We are watching closely for that. We will have to release sooner if they can’t be contained on the land.”
“I see, and I thank you for being honest, General. Now I’ll be honest with you. I think we can make a soldier that can stop the Macros on the ground. But that soldier will have to join the fleet first. They will have to become an international force of marines.”
“Join the fleet? You mean your fleet?”
“Yes sir. Star Force. We need trained volunteers from every nation. Elite veterans preferred. We’ll provide them with new weaponry, train them on how to use it, and transform them into a ground force that can face the Macros.”
“Are we talking about some kind of suicide squad here, Riggs?”
“Not exactly, sir. But the process we will put the men through might make it impossible to return to normal civilian life.”
“I see. And can I observe an example of one of these—super soldiers?”
“You already have, sir,” I said. “I am one of them.”
-26-
After I’d gotten off the satellite link with General Kerr, leaving him skeptical but interested, I went down to the base to have the medical center people check me out. Really, I did it at the insistence of Sandra. I felt pretty good, physically. Sure, my arm was a sick mess. We’d wrapped it up so we wouldn’t have to watch the Nanos do their work. But the first thing they did, apparently, was turn off the pain sensors in my damaged limb. Very civil of them, I thought.
When the medical staff saw the state of my arm, there was considerable gasping. A doctor waved to a nurse who prepped a hypodermic. I put my good hand up to halt them when they came near.
“What’s that, doc?”
“For the pain,” he said.
“No. Don’t need it. I don’t feel a thing.”
He looked confused, wary. “I appreciate you are a tough man, Commander. But I can assure you, you will feel something if we perform this procedure without medication.”
“What procedure?”
He blinked at me. He exchanged glances with the nurse. They had the air of people who were about to go through something unfortunate and unpleasant. Something they’d gone through before.
“If you will just relax, sir, and let us do our jobs.”
He manufactured a smile and stepped closer.
I reached out, faster than his eyes could follow, and snapped the tip of his needle off. His face fell. He looked at his dribbling, snubbed hypo, dumbfounded.
“What did you do? Really, this isn’t helping, Commander.”
“Just give me some answers.”
The doctor heaved a sigh. He eyed me with new respect. “Frankly, I don’t even see how you’re standing. I can see metal in there, Commander. Bright metal! Your arm is full of shrapnel of some kind. I might be able to save the arm—just maybe, mind you, no promises. But you have to let me operate immediately.”
I smiled then. It was a grim smile, and their faces didn’t respond in kind. “Nobody is cutting my arm off,” I said. I turned to go.
“But, Commander… isn’t it better than dying?” asked the nurse, speaking up for the first time. She was young and had a high voice, almost child-like. I’d always found that endearing in a woman.
I sighed and gave her a real smile. “Sorry. Let me apologize for my bad attitude. I’ve just watched hundreds—maybe thousands of men die trying to prove a theory of mine. They managed to disprove it, unfortunately. In fact, more of the real casualties should be coming in soon.”
“Real casualties?” asked the nurse. The doctor was no longer speaking, he was just staring at me.
“I’m fleet. I can get my ship to repair me.”
“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?”
I thought about that. Why not indeed? Habit, I suppose, was part of it. But it was more than that.
“Because,” I told them truthfully, “I’m scared to go into their medical facility. They can work miracles, but they are machines.”
“They’re scary?”
I snorted. “Terrifying. And they don’t know much about pain. I don’t think they’ve ever even heard of anesthetic. Now that I think about it, I think the only reason this arm isn’t hurting is because the nerves are burned away.”
“Well,” said the doctor, chastened. “If you ever do need me, Commander. Come back.”
I nodded and left. I had the ship lift me back up into its belly. I walked into the chamber of horrors that had worked upon my children until it dumped them into the cold of space. The same chamber full of thin, dangling, black arms that had brought Sandra back to life.
In an hour, I couldn’t scream anymore. My voice no longer worked. It had turned into an endless series of hoarse sobs. Sometime after that, I lost consciousness. In two hours, I awoke with my arm mostly regrown, but I was blind. I had the Alamo carry me to my couch where I fell asleep. Sandra came and quietly touched my brow.
In another hour, I was functional again, but I still felt drained. My arm was pink-white. New skin had grown with unnatural, accelerated speed. Just like the rings of new cells that had glued on Sandra’s fingers. I saw that the rings around her fingers had faded. That was good. I could hope my arm would look normal again someday.
I flexed my repaired hand, and it tingled. But it worked. I nodded blearily, looking around the bridge.
“How bad was it?” Sandra asked.
“Bad. It was bad. But yes, it was worth it.”
“The satellite phone has been beeping for you,” said Sandra. “I answered and told them to give you a break.”
“You did?”
“I told them you were injured and recovering. But they keep calling back. Once every hour or so.”
“Okay,” I said, reaching for the unit. A few minutes later I was back on the phone with General Kerr.
“All right, Riggs. We need to talk,” he said.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve been checking out your story and reviewing the battle video.”
“Video?”
“Every one of those fancy suits was equipped with a camera or two. Not all of them worked. Not all of them survived, either. But yours did.”
“How did I do, sir?”
“I’m impressed…. I’m not a man who is easily impressed, Riggs.”
I believed him. “What do you think about my offer now, General?”
“I think you’re crazy. Did these drugs or whatever they are do that to you? Make you into some kind of berserk? You shot that thing in the butt and nearly ate a biscuit, boy.”
I chuckled. “No sir, I was born crazy, I guess. I can’t blame the Nanos for that.”
“Overcompensation. That’s what a psych would call it. You saw good men die over your idea and you lost it.”
“I got that machine to retreat sir. I damaged it enough to turn it around. Then I chased it into the jungle. If I’d had a full platoon as capable as I was, with heavier weapons….”
“Yeah. Yeah, you did. We did some calculations. You were running over sand in full gear, doing about thirty miles an hour. That’s about how fast a dog runs. Did you know that?”
“You believe me then.”
“I think you’ve been altered somehow. But I’m not sure I want to put all my boys through that. Whatever alien bullshit you have in mind for them.”