Greenpeace has, unfortunately, decided to look elsewhere for solutions. We wish them well, but I and my resources will continue to push forward with AtmoCapture as part of the plan to make humanity multiplanetary.
--Melon Usk in a news release, 2032
***
The first antithesis caught me by surprise when several of the troopers opened fire towards the left. As the fire fell off, an M-4 dropped from the limbs of a tree twenty meters into the brush. Two troopers approached the body with weapons still at the ready and inspected it before waving the group forward. Before returning, one of them dropped a flat lozenge on the body, which started to steam.
“What’s the pill thing he dropped?” I asked Martin.
He glanced at me and then looked again, blinking when he saw the full battle harness covering my torso, waist, and even down the sides of my thighs. If I was being honest with myself, I don’t know why I hadn’t activated it and readied my weapons when we reached the forest. It was clear from the looks I’d been getting that people were worried about my ability. So many Samurai flaunted their power that it was, no doubt, unsettling to have one looking normal and unarmed.
[“Good,”] Kaitlyn said, [“Slowly break out your kit. The chat’s loving the slow reveal and speculating on what will be next. Builds anticipation for the full reveal.”]
I cocked my eyebrow at that, which reminded the decurion that I’d asked a question. “It’s the new dissolution enzyme to clear out the body. It saves us from having to burn all the bodies, which slows us down. National Directive 4 requires we remove or sterilize antithesis remains unless we are retreating while in contact. It also neutralizes the pheromones that call other antithesis, which helps a lot on a speed or stealth mission. Naturally, it’s only used on small engagements. There’s other systems for large areas.”
--It’s a much inferior version of the foggers you’ve used. The enzyme is much slower acting and will take a full day to clear the body.
I could feel the disdain in my AI’s mental voice.
[“Two doggies coming from the south,”] Tara said.
“Johnson, they’re yours.” Martin’s instruction came on top of Tara’s report, and one of the troopers on the right lifted his rifle and spewed a dozen rounds in three bursts. While he eliminated the threat, I retrieved a laser pistol from storage and hung it on my harness as if it were a shoulder holster.
We continued to push on, pausing every now and then for the troopers to deal with a few antithesis. While the troopers were distracted, I’d retrieve another of my weapons until I was fully armed and activated my helmet. By the third time, I started to get some half smiles from the decurion, who just shook his head.
At the same time, Tara and I, with some guidance from Corie, had figured out a way to set up a mini map in my visor where she could highlight the Anti’s she spotted. The mini-map provided more precise information on their location faster than speaking. She was getting good at finding the enemy, but she could only talk so fast, and the troopers and I had been learning of the antithesis at the same time.
Several kilometers out from the base, the forest fell back on the left, forming a large, stump-filled field, while the forest stayed by the dirt road on the right. About halfway through the field, a movement caught my eye, and I looked left to see a part of the ground lifting. “Ambush!” I called out, raising my rifle. Behind me I heard a trooper call out the ambush along with me, repeated by Tara in the conference.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
A large section of ground flew up and over, revealing a covered pit teeming with Anti’s. I let fly with a burst of flechettes, sweeping my fire left to right. A wave of M-4 climbed out of the pit and charged, only getting a couple of steps before flechettes shredded them.
Behind me, over the gunfire, one of the officers called out to push through, and I felt the troopers behind me moving away. Behind the wave of tentacles, I could see bulkier forms: one of the tank-like Model Sixes and another longer one.
I switched to the upper barrel, and the Deuce rammed into my shoulder, thrusting me back on my heels. The heavy 7.62 round slammed into the M-6, leaving a fist-sized hole in its armor right in front of the fore shoulder. It stumbled, and I fired again.
The Deuce let out a loud crack with each shot, not as loud as a gunshot but sharper. When the Six fell, I turned back to the other Fours spreading out to surround me. Again the flechettes flew to mow down the remainder of the wave. I’d never noticed before that the flechettes let out a crackling noise that increased when turning.
The M-4s fell, and I could see that the other large body behind them was the long extended worm of a Model Eight. I paused for a second before more gunfire erupted behind me and a round whined past. A chill ran down my spine at the near miss, and I turned to find all the troopers deep in the forest, with weapons pointed towards me.
As I dropped to the ground, a flash of anger burned through me until I spotted the M-3’s between us. In my mini-map the forest blinked an alert. I scrambled to put a large stump between me and the incoming gunfire, and a rush of fear and confusion flushed the anger away, then my mind caught up to my emotions.
The ambush had been two-sided, and the troopers had rushed the right-hand side. I didn’t hear any orders, and I’d been left behind, somehow. The trooper’s counterfiring in my direction was the only way to get rid of the aliens they’d fought past.
I pushed aside the question of why I had been left out of the loop and concentrated on clearing the aliens. Figuring that out was a problem for after the battle.
[“Thag-a-likes, coming in from the east,”] Tara reported. I turned and found five larger M-5s coming into sight. Unlike the variants I’d faced in the city, these were more classic models, larger, with more spines but lacking the hard-hitting tail spikes.
I fired six shots at them from the upper barrel, killing the last a split second after its tongue flicked a cluster of needles at the troopers. I watched helplessly as the needles raced over the field to hit the lines.
Peeking around the stump towards the troopers, I found a few M-3s remained and sent some flechettes at them, angling the rounds to avoid having any troopers downrange of the through-and-throughs.
Soon enough, the battlefield filled with the calls of all clear mixed with a couple calls for a medic and some cries of pain. I turned back to the hole, seeing the M-8 still alive. It seemed to be trying to dig itself an escape hole at the roaring pace of a slow walk. I killed it with a burst of flechettes beforedouble checking the rest of the antithesis nearby to make sure they weren’t going to surprise us.
--In an open space like this it would be dependent on the weather. With current conditions, one would cover most of the field and all of the battlefield.
Carlson came storming up to yell in my face, his rapid-fire words and stiff posture fit to put any drill sergeant to shame. “What the hell were you doing firing at my troops? Did I not make it clear you were not to endanger my people?”
As I gritted my teeth, I pulled out the lower magazine and showed the rounds to him. “Guidable flechettes. I had zero chance of hitting anyone with that slow a rate of fire. Unlike your own men’s fire. I had no less than six near misses. Have they lost all their fire discipline? I know that your troopers understand how to aim their rounds.”
The captain swelled up, about to burst into another harangue, when Martin walked up behind the leader. “Captain, how many rounds are recommended for killing a Model Eight?”
Irritated and distracted by the question, he fired off the answer. “None, they aren’t worth the ammo. It’s better to use satchel bombs or grenades.”
“Then I have to wonder, did you notice how the Samurai eliminated that one?” Martin pointed into the pit. The body of the M-8 lay intact, with a series of small holes running down its side, one per section.
The captain stared at the body, puzzled. “Some kind of special payload?” he asked.
“Not worth it,” I said. “Killing them is easy when you know where each of its brains are, and can hit them. They aren’t even protected by anything.” I glanced at Martin. “The right force…”