Red Zone - 12
A Novel
II
Paper
25.61.043 JD (October 20th, 2299 OC)
12
I'm falling. He saw before him the metropolis of memory, a million miles of everything he saw, imagined, or remembered, and towards it, he tumbled. It was a grid that broke into ever more complex patterns until finally there was an infinity horizon that was a sharp-edged blur.
And then, he found himself behind his eyes again. Looking at the world as he saw it, as he felt it, as he now remembers having lived it. He closed his eyes, aware of the panoply of self, and opened them again. But they were not his eyes, instead of the eyes of a much younger man, who had much less behind them. A blank slate, waiting to be writ upon.
11
Somewhere high above the high canopy, that blankets the layers of land and is from above its verdant sky. Bye, and bye, the Congo River is, a great Cathedral of life.
This, is the Congo Reconquista Zone, a place in more or less perpetual rebellion against the Dominion, and any political authority it approves.
They were high above the lower clouds, that brought the morning kiss of water to the tropical rainforest below. He knew that here and there it fell in sheets, and here and there it was a breath. It misted, drizzled, poured, fell, and every verb that one could attach to the storm's coming was, somewhere there below, in action.
He hung on a rail wire, which would help guide the drop tanks, low-slung, sleek, down. They had simmed this, they would go down, in a flying wedge, and engage the enemy. They had simmed it a dozen times because this was a unique mission They had simmed it because it would be wiped clean after they did it, so even if anyone had done it before, it would not have been admitted. They had simmed it because that's what you did.
The target was a rogue group of heavies, which seemed impossible, since as far as they knew only Dominion Ground Forces had Heavy Infantry. They had taken down a formation of tanks, four in all. They liberated Kalemie for a few days but retreated into the forest when tanks had dropped in without a fight.
Brig. Liu had determined that it was important to wipe them out, and the layers of secrecy had driven everyone mad: isolated systems, no access to anything off base. The plan was dead dog simple: drop, form up in wedges, and pile drive in waves over the area. Kill everything larger than a meerkat that moves at all.
But they had simmed out variation after variation, and Captain Venkatesh1 had been the most dedicated of all. His hand still played through every theme, and every counter.
“Your tank ready Captain Venkatesh?” It was the Warrant officer, who was directing everyone into place. He was a long lean man, with sharp features and a sharp eye. His helmet was white, and he was from the Confederation. Technically, they were in charge, and the Dominion Ground Forces were on loan. Venky stared into his face and replied.
“Tank and crew, Warrant.”
“18 Drops, Lt.”
“44 drops, Woet.”[1]
“The rest of the formation is ready as well. Lt. LeMans is lead?”
Venky nodded and then looked down through the drop bay, the clouds were breaking, forming long painted gashes of green. On his eyes appeared a circle of white notches, they would turn as he looked away, and then reappear when he looked back down, a red arrow pointed to the drop zone. Numbers marked milestones on the drop. His was getting near.
“Scenario 2-5 has been selected.”
“Thank you, Warrant.” He didn't even look back but was focused forward.
He boarded his tank, and, as he always did, he took the side bubble. He strapped in, he surveyed the displays.
As soon as he was linked in with the other tanks in the formation, he waited for the call-off. Everything was green in moments, it was so loudly ready, that even his skin took on a green cast from the displays. In his mind, he conjured up Pritha's soft features and blew a kiss. He'd taught his tank to ignore the gesture, he'd made it before so many drops. But it was not an invariable habit. I wonder why I forget it sometimes. Is it that I don't want her to know?
He steeled himself.
“Go. Go. Go.”
His cutter[2] launched first, falling, at first slowly, and then more quickly out of the bay, guidewire straining. He followed and they were out and through the clouds. As soon as they were through the upper cloud deck, red streams started to cross. Lasers, both target and weapons, were on them.
“Dive drop.”
They had simmed this. The wave behind them would go to shields to cover the drop, and they would point the nose of the tank down and dive fast through the heaviest zone of ground fire.
They were coming into an area near Lake Tanganyika, south of Kalemie. This country had sharp short hills, covered with vegetation, and a high tree canopy. A stream that the tactical marked as 220-1 joined with 220-2, which were between hills 220 and 221, oozed out onto a sandy beach. He could see the water in front of them, and the progressively more broken and patchy terrain behind them. As they would get closer to the water, the sharp ridges grew sharper and would break out through the tall treetops, their broad oval leaves created an effect like the waving surface of a particle sea.
They were to drive to the water, opening the way for direct drops over the lack to charge up the small valley, no more than 250m wide. And then the gunships could roar through, taking out painted targets and finally securing this area south of Kalemie
“Mark targets Cory.” Lt. Cory is very sharp, he should have his tank soon.
“Painting.”
The advantage of the side dome was that you could see it, the disadvantage was that the in-tank displays were not there. He'd been warned about this several times, but every time had come through, and depending on the commander, his habit was either praised or at least tolerated.
Four tanks of his formation pointed down and dropped fast, slicing through the flack and ground chatter. He could see the wavering paint zones that were the source of the fire. It was disorganized. And scattered. If the black elephants are at hand, they are not joining in the melee.
The ground gained detail rapidly, with blurs filling in as folds and rills, spires as trees, they seemed as if they were going far too fast
“Pull and deploy.”
The drag ripped, and balloons inflated. They tore through the canopy, which somehow slowed the descent, without bursting the stop balloons.
“Cap, that was close.”
“Stay deep in the luck well Cory.” He pushed for formation control. “Call off.”
“Hear that Gears?” Gears, the third tanker, was a Warrant Officer 1, and his name was Millhauser. But no one everyone used that.
The other tanks acknowledged.
“Deep in the luck well Cory.” He burbled it excitedly, they were on the ground, at the edge of the clearing and moving fast. Their lead was already in front of them, shooting down trees and other low barriers. Hardly glamorous work.
“No one shoots cans, LeMans.” LeMans was the tanker in charge of the forward tank.
He got his first kill last drop, but everyone is still riding him anyway for always being a gunner on a cutting tank.[3]
“Stay clear, stay clean Cory.”
“We are clear and clean.”
That's not right. He flipped power to shields and started to call off for his group to do the same.
Ahead at the other end of the clearing, there was a pile of tree trunks that looked as if they had been blown down in a storm. It was an artful deception, and enough to catch LeMans unaware. Instantly four figures popped up and began firing. They were black, angular, and far far larger than people had any reason to be. There were shoulder rockets, and two had arm guns and drones. The angles of the mecha suits became more obvious as they closed. The lead tank's magnetic shield had started, and this deflected the first burst of rockets. The lasers hit the armor and burned but did not bite. Before a second round could go off, the LeMans had ripped by the position, and the close weapons on the tank were bleeding energy all over.
However, even as he crested the rough embankment, a Black Elephant trooper popped up and aimed. The nose of LeMans' tank was pointed down, momentarily exposing the underside. It was clear that they had stripped the shield and there was an open shot.
Almost too fast to be seen, there was a billowing cloud of steam from the heat of the discharge and the bank end of LeMans tank ignited, the ceramic and metal itself on fire from the heat. There was a white line that formed the flamefront, and it consumed forward, the tank nosed in and began going end over end slowly, moments later two
Bees[4] were near the bottom pounding away with energy lances and direct fire. There was only pulp left in moments.
That's going to hurt.
Venky flipped off the remote command switch, which was guiding and overriding their actions to keep the tank in formation and function. It was one of the few old-style switches and touching it, was a prerogative only of officers.
“Captain?”
“Ride the luck well.”
Venky grabbed the handle of the yoke, which was not a wheel but a sliding stick. He felt a clearer flow between himself and the tank over his link. He pulled down the shield revved up the acceleration and ramped up the defensive berm. The Julia Turbines whined as energy shifted from shield to propulsion. Instead of nosing up, the tank hopped at once from the ground effects and flew over where he knew the troopers to be waiting for him. From the below screen, he saw one take a shot. Instantly the tank reported a shield hit, only there was no shield. The behind sent him a snapshot of another trooper firing straight up. Had his tank been going at the expected speed, they would have been doomed by now. First, they shot the shield, then the aft exhaust, but there was no shield to shoot, and we had moved on by the time of the second shot.
The tank dropped into the gravity vacuum. His gunner knew what to do with exposed troopers and fired aft repeatedly. It was impossible to tell what the casualties from that were.
The tank behind them.
Report this.
“Paint them.”
Already the next formation was behind them and firing. The last tank in his formation was trying the same trick: speed up, shield down. No-no-no.
From the nest, there was a puff of condensation, and the black net unfurled, it hit the front of the oncoming tank, wrapping itself around the front. The almost shieldless tank soon had spikes blasting into its skin and the net lit on fire. White flame front. As they pulled away quickly, Venky could see the tank disintegrating under fire.
He turned and broke to the left. He roared across a broken beach with empty low buildings cluttering on it and was out on the water. The controller’s adaptives did not understand what he was doing, going into an uncontrolled spin had not been simmed out. He pulled incessantly; his wrist frozen. Like a wrist strike, keep it like a wrist strike, I simmed this out, it will give in. And, like so, the adaptives relaxed and let him continue to pull. The controller’s adaptives did not understand what he was doing, going into an uncontrolled spin had not been simmed out. He pulled incessantly; his wrist frozen. Like a wrist strike, keep it like a wrist strike, I simmed this out, it will give in. And, like so, the adaptives relaxed and let him continue to pull.
At the same time, that he wrenched, he also fired the turbines in reverse and the tank began spinning.
“Fire the main. Fire! Fire! Fire!”
Cory didn't need more encouragement and didn't understand why he could see so many targets exposed, but he had the pulse laser working until its temperature mounted. The tank dutifully counted up confirmed kills for them. Moments later he saw black dots jumping out and hopping farther away from the conflagration that was spreading. Dark black smoke billowed upwards. Venky nearly retched. Loose carbon soot, is an abomination.
The rest of the two companies are cheating. He noted that rather than leveling out, they were simply coming in at the razor edge of the high hills and allowing the ground to slow and stabilize them. Two tanks exploded, clearly on some kind of placed mines.
“Captain Venkatesh, tell the droppers coming that the spine of the hills is mined. Repeat, crests of hills are zone black.”
Pause.
“Acknowledged. Scenario 15-2 is in effect. Repeat, scenario 15-2 is in effect.”
Orders came in, to go to the drop point. It took several spins to right the tank, they banked off the beach and then towards open water where the pick-up was scheduled. As they sped away they could see low slow-moving turbo gunships: flying wings, suspended by encased turbines, firing down at the painted targets. The slaughter had started of anyone who had not made it out. The fire from the ground went quiet, and belches of burn leaped up from the ground as explosions fed the burning.
“Captain, 9 confirmed BC,[5] the other three tanks in our formation went down.”
“Total confirms?”
“We lost 13 confirmed. 43 BC confirmed.” There was a dark looming pause, that was more tanks than had been lost in combat operations in the last year, and all of them to accidents. The number one killer of tankers was the ground. “No wonder they are going to wipe us clean.”
Stupid, we should be allowed to learn from this. We could have done much better if people had been trained better.
Gears interjected.
“Cap, how did you know to pull that spin?”
“Because they did what I would have done.”
Venky's memory pulled up a moment from kenjutsu training when he was learning “open on all 8 sides.”[6] His hand lunged, his sensei had shifted weight, allowed the lunge to pass, and then decapitated him, in a virtual sense, as he went by. The sting from that hurt more than any other he received because he had tasted the sense that he was going to score for the first time against that sensei. Instead, he was out.
He continued to the crew: “They were waiting for us to pass, and then hit from behind. Just like Kumar at Tycho.”
“So, you spun, and caught them from behind.”
“Yes, scissor paper stone.” If you know the pattern that is, one cannot pull scissors, paper, and stone at random, there has to be a pattern chosen by group theory. Learned that a long time ago, but he should know this. This pattern wasn't present at the time that he thought of this. That meant this was a dream.
“Scissor-paper-stone” Gears repeated. what should have happened was just a response, not a full detail. scissors paper stone was only the first step, then you had to know the exact mathematical detail. Detail he would not have recalled this particular time, but he did, so it was an illusion.
LeMans went stone, they wrapped his shields. I chose paper, which came out as a draw. The next tank took paper and was sliced by the shearing net. But I remained, and knowing they would be exposed to cut, became the cold cold stone to grind them between the next formation and myself. They were the best I will ever see, I think. They were better than we were today.
He pondered what that meant.
Mere anarchy is loose on the world, and it can't be allowed to burn out the lungs of the world. But I have to wonder if what we are doing is cutting out cancer or becoming the cancer itself.
They sped up the ramp of the tank carrier, and minutes later were being lifted up.
When the tank was slaved again to the carrier system, he popped the side carrier and swung out.
The Woet was directing the pickup and counting.
The final tally is almost certainly worse than anything we've seen. He checked the loading board, there were 21 missing slots. His company was five formations, 20 tanks, there were two other drop companies. 21 of 60.
It was at the base, in a rather blank white room, that he did a debrief.
He settled down, looked around, and saw only a blond-haired woman taking notes. She bore no obvious service uniform, just a black suit fitted out with two tablets and some communication coils. She spent most of her time staring at a tablet she held even as she asked questions of him.
Fortunately, he'd taken a suppression dose before coming, because without it, he would have been thinking rather graphic thoughts about her bent over the desk with himself behind. Perhaps I should have taken two. He could tell even from this angle that her thighs were round, but not too much so, and her hips were curved, but not too much so. Maybe three.
He sat down at attention.
“No after-action assessment? And what should I call you? I do not see your rank.”
“I'm Special Agent Holt. Holt will be fine. No, no triple A[7], because that will create more memories to track down. No reports either. And also, I would like you to confine your answers to the shortest possible, no digressions please, that makes memory correction more difficult.”
Venky nodded.
She asked questions, in what seemed to be a random order. Finally, she looked up and stared at him in a conciliatory fashion.
“In your opinion Captain, what would improve our performance in similar actions?”
“I am not even sure what similar actions are. Why were we facing Black Elephants?”
“They were clones built by dissident national governments and equipped by subterfuge.”
“Not a mutiny?” Or something worse perhaps?
“I can't confirm or deny any speculation. Please answer the question: in your opinion, what would improve our performance in similar actions? For example, more simulation, better firepower, and night attack. Were there any members who were insufficiently committed to the mission, and so on?”
“Scissors, paper, stone.” The right solution is not in the book.
“Excuse me?” She looked down at the tablet, clearly reading the psychograph and trying to pull the memory. She nodded and replied.
“So, you are saying that more unpredictable tactical selection would improve our performance?”
“I am saying that options need to be simpler, and we need to have a military culture which constantly sharpens better decision making.”
“And scissors paper stone represents this.” It implies more than that, and she knew it, though it took half a second to confirm that.
“I'm sure you've read Admiral Kumar's work.”
“I have it loaded.”
“You can't load it, you have to live it.” And the Annex that it is based on. which is not limited anywhere, anytime. This is the pattern that he wanted to seek, in memory, all of those years ago.
She nodded.
“That will be all Captain, I've set your wipe ticket.[8] But don't be too unhappy, you've drawn soft duty for the next 6 months.”
“Of course, I will go where I am assigned, but I would prefer to remain attached to front-line drops.”
She checked the psychograph[9] again.
“It is required, though some adjustment can be made based on your Liberty situation.”
He nodded.
“Will we be able to mourn the dead?”
He looked down at his hand and squeezed it several times, it was slightly tweaked from when he had pulled for the hard spin.
“You won't remember them.” I knew that I had just been warned of it before it happened. These are people, not machines.
Venky put up a wall within, he didn't want what he felt to go on the psychograph.
He reported to memory control, reclined on the chair, and felt apprehension as it slowly brought him to a lying position. A helmet fell over him, he could feel his limbs going numb and his mind drifting off into sensor deprivation.
He received a rude wipe and opened his eyes with a massive pounding headache and a sense of disoriented vertigo. He could not bear the pulsing pressure on the sides of his brain. Only this time he knew what he had forgotten the first time. And it had been important to whoever wanted to take this trip down memory lane.
He slept, bathed in a river of pain.
Venky are you there? It's me, Keisha.
How can we converse, I thought this was almost instant.
It is, I'm halfway in.
Isn't that dangerous?
It's for you. I'm here to guide you.
Was it really like that? Behind the wall I mean, is that what I needed to know?
It's as close as they could find out.
Was that me, is that who I am?
It is if you want it to be, you can stop anytime you want.
But there is deeper to go?
Yes, much.
I can respect myself at least. If that's the detail you want me to unravel, at least it's an honorable detail. If that's my past, so be it.
Yes, I can respect that man, but I don't admire him.
Let alone, love.
Let alone love.
[1] W-3. The tanks are officer Warrant Officers since enlisted drive the cargo, utility, and transports.
[2] Tank designated to clear away obstacles, and “cut” for the rest of the crew.
[3] Ground Forces tanks are divided into cutters, fighters, scrubbers, and commanders. The cutters are mainly to clear away obstacles. The fighters have experienced tankers. The scrubbers clean up and kill exposed enemies, and have the least experienced tankers. A company will have four to six formations, the last of which is the command formation, of the most experienced and reliable tanks, The first will have cutters and one fighter, the second two fighters, and the others will be heavy with scrubbers
[4] Black Elephants
[5] Body Count
[6] In kenjutsu, a stance with two blades where the defender can take an attack from any direction.
[7] After Action Assessment
[8] Instructions to have memories removed.
[9] Display showing what he is thinking.