Chapter 16: Fraternizing with the Enemy
John didn’t have to wait long for his plot mission. A few days later, the DI ordered the recruits of Bravo Company to march to the monolithic building at the center of the base, under the hospital within, into the basement. Ten pods lined the walls. Had the recruits had a choice, none of them would have entered the contraptions. The pods resembled the sarcophaguses that contained the recruit's bodies, their real ones in the real world. The DI didn’t give them a choice.
“Try to think about nothing.” The 2nd class DI closed the lid on John.
His heart rate ebbed. At least John could see the recruits lined up outside. He found the pod to be much more comfortable, on a physical level, than his bed. Almost womb-like—
John woke to the DIs voice. “Would you like a hand job from these rough and calloused palms, recruit?” The DI held his hands open.
“Sir, no, sir.”
“Then get out of the fucking pod!”
The recruits in line jeered. John hopped out. His feet touched the floor, and another voice entered his mind. “What is unseen can not be seen.” He shook his head as if he could shake the half-remembered dream out. The old man from the prison, the one with the birthmarks around his eyes, said it to John in his sleep.
“What is unseen can not be seen.” What the hell was that supposed to mean?
The others waited for him in the hallway.
“You okay?” Justice lifted himself off the wall.
“Yeah. I think I slept in there.”
“We all slept in there,” Sylvester said.
John pointed a thumb at the room behind him. “What are those pod things for?”
“You know as much as anybody here.” Justice held his chin. “You should ask the DI.”
“Nah.” John shook his head. “Not gonna do that.”
“Did you dream?” Elroy stretched his neck muscles.
John lowered his eyebrows. “Why are you asking me that?”
“It’s a saying. People say that.”
John scrunched his face. “No one says that.”
“They do where I’m from.”
Sylvester tapped Elroy's arm with a fist. “Old fucks from where you’re from, maybe.”
***
That afternoon, they marched to the base of Hollow Mountain. The overcast clouds above defused the sunlight, and the trees on both sides cast no shadows, only ill-defined areas of dark. The forest cut the stale pollution with oxygen.
Each recruit carried a rifle on his back. The DI directed them to take them off the rifle range, loaded and dangerous. The recruits carried three full clips each in case the nanobots couldn’t manufacture enough rounds. Something was about to go down.
The bowman option was still grayed out the last time John did rifle practice. Whatever the reason the DI had him use it before the combat exercise, he didn’t volunteer the info. John wasn’t about to inquire either. The less attention he attracted, the better.
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“Halt!” The DI stood on a rock and overlooked Bravo Company. “Everyone form up.” He drew an imaginary line along the ground with his arm.
The recruits arranged themselves on the edge of flat land before the incline swooped upwards. John maneuvered himself into the front as close to the middle as possible. Whatever would happen next, he wanted to be there. Sylvester, Justice, and Elroy took their places behind him.
One of the second class DIs called everyone to attention. Their feet dropped, a single clap of thunderous applause. The recruits had formed into a whole. Relentless drill practice brought them into unison.
The DI stood at ease. “Welcome to your first live-fire exercise. You’re loaded up with real bullets, so don’t even try to shoot each other. In your WarFace, you will find you have been assigned a new mission. Close your eyes.”
John selected the notification.
Combat Exercise - Week 1
◆ Pass: Fireteam eliminates 2 enemies. (0/2)
◆ Pass B: Fireteam eliminates 6 enemies. (0/6)
◆ Pass A: Fireteam eliminates Pithite Control Unit. (0/1)
◆ Type: mandatory
◆ Privacy: public
◆ 100 XP for Pass. 200 XP for Pass B. 500 XP for Pass A.
◆ PLOT MISSION
A thunk, deep and loud, reverberated from the mountain through the ground. The side of the mountain, about three meters high, shuttered. A rectangular section slid towards the recruits and split along the center. Soil dropped off the top edge. Thick, hinged arms slid the outer earth-covered shell to the sides and exposed a pair of metallic blast doors. Crimson alarm lights suspended from the ceiling spun. A single klaxon pierced the air, the blast doors parted, and the alarm lights scanned the darkness inside with their red glow. The illumination exposed shadowy shapes, human shapes—maybe humanoid—inside. Whatever the things were, they stood in a hodgepodge of disparate groups.
Internal lights switched on and revealed the robotic beings. John trembled. They had heads, arms, and legs, but angled mechanical parts formed their long limbs and slender bodies as if cockroaches designed them to approximate humanity. The robots, all the same model, stood at least two heads higher than the tallest recruit. Dark browns, tans, and rusts covered their armored carapaces, and never in the same way twice. Armor covered their mouths and noses if they had any mouths and noses underneath. A pair of lenses approximated eyes. Behind the glass, twisting mechanical irises darted around and focused on the recruits. Despite their alien appearance, these robots looked like they had actual intelligence behind those eyes, a far cry from those on Hadfield.
They marched out the door. Their metal feet made far less sound than they should have. Each one carried a rifle, same as the recruit’s, only with orange, plastic fittings over the ends of the barrels. John scanned the forty robots with the WarFace. The infoboxes said they were Pithite Infantry, NPCs, and mostly level 1s with a few level 2s. None of them had the red skull, only portraits of their unarmored faces. Seems they had faces under there, all the same face as far as John could tell.
“These Pithite defectors,” the DI gestured to the group congregating outside the blast doors, “offer to sacrifice their bodies to train you in combat.”
John had assumed the enemy consisted of a single, malevolent whole, that they all sought humanity’s destruction. But here they were, allies no less.
“While your bullets will injure them, you have nothing to fear from their mock weaponry.” He held out his hands to one of the Pithites. “May I?”
The Pithite handed over his rifle. The DI pointed it at the closest recruit and pulled the trigger. Instead of a bang, the rifle let out a tone, a simple sine wave. The recruit’s leg buckled. He collapsed on his side with a grunt. The other DIs lowered their gaze, hid their faces behind the brims of their hats, and suppressed their laughter.
“If you get hit in a limb with an infrared beam, that limb will become paralyzed. Should you get hit in the torso, not only will your entire body freeze, but you will also fail the exercise if your fireteam hasn’t achieved their kill quota. It may seem you all outnumber our Pithites here, but with their combined experience, this will be a lopsided battle,” the DI nodded toward the Pithites, “in their favor.“
John raised his hand. “Sir, permission to speak, sir?”
The DI lowered his eyebrows. “What is it, recruit?”
“Sir,” John dropped his hand, “are we going to be alone in there with them? If we’ll be paralyzed, how can we trust these robots—”
“Robots!?” One of the Pithites stepped towards John and put a finger in his face. Its eyes, with two different colored irises, yellow and blue, bulged out of the socket. “Robots are slaves. We are not your slaves. We choose to be here. Can you say the same, prisoner?”
For what possible reason did these things choose to defect? How bad is it on the other side?
John pulled away from the accusatory finger. The DI jumped down from his rock and put himself between John and the Pithite. “Thank you all for coming out today.” He took the Pithite’s hand and shook it like they were equals. “Now if you please take your places inside, we will start exercises once we get your signal.”
The Pithite narrowed his eyes at John. John’s heart thudded against its ribcage.