Cold Warriors Page 4

"You're late,” Keegan whispered leaning in toward his friend.

  "I was detained."

  "By whom? A girl no doubt,” Keegan jibed.

  "You can say that. Do you know we got a new cryo running around here?"

  Keegan raised an eyebrow. “Where have you been? We always have them running around."

  Seeming as though lost in memory, he tilted his head cleverly to one side, “This one's a looker though, and young too. I might just talk to her later on.” The CAG grinned. His big white teeth shined brightly out of his mouth.

  "Right.” Keegan shook his head.

  Abruptly, Colonel Rizard and the man she had been escorting entered the room. Keegan noticed he was clean-shaven and wore a pressed officer's uniform, which bore no rank and insignia. The area around his eyes was creased with crows feet, his jaw muscles tensed as he pulled out the chair across from Keegan and sat down. Rizard stood in front of the room and introduced herself.

  "General, it's a pleasure to be aboard.” Rizard nodded, “Let me introduce myself, I am Colonel Jeanine Rizard with The Office of Special Warfare. And this is cryo number 4468. He's been working with us on planet Tau Ceti Three.” She paused as though waiting for the information to sink in for her listeners. Rizard's eyes narrowed. “What I am about to tell you is classified as Top Secret. This information does not leave this room."

  Rizard paced back and forth. “As you may know, the enemy as of late has been using a strategy that can simply be called planet hopping. Fortunately for us, we used this method of engagement to our advantage and had been able to keep them on the defensive."

  Rizard stopped behind 4468 and frowned. “But things have changed. The Verneans and their allies have wised up, unfortunately, and turned the tables against us. They've started engaging us on planets which have atmospheric conditions that are practically intolerable for the human body. We have learned that the biology of the Verneans and some of their captive species are immune to these freezing temperatures. They seem to prefer it. Hence, the recent engagements on nearly subzero planets where the Verneans and their allies have considerable advantage. We on the other hand, go there and freeze our asses off, to coin a phrase. But Alliance back on Earth came up with a plan that should take the burden off ourselves and our alien allies. Their plan is to alter the atmosphere of these planets. Hopefully a twentieth century mishap will become a great advantage and turn the tide of the war."

  "And Colonel, how exactly is this miracle transformation supposed to occur?” the CAG asked with skepticism.

  "They're going to bombard the atmosphere of the subject planets with extreme amounts of greenhouse gases along with an activating agent,” she paused at the last two words, “which will cause a massive chain reaction, thereby altering and thickening the planet's atmosphere. The result is a warming cycle."

  Keegan shook his head with disbelief. Even he knew that planets had seasons of warm and cold, and something like this would not only effect the winter but the summer as well possibly making the planet unlivable in the summer. What if Earth forces had to go back in the summer season with the planet boiling, how were they going to account for that? “All planets have seasons. What about the effects of summer? It'll be like Hell.” Keegan questioned.

  "The planets in question are the ones with incredibly short summers whose heat barely reaches the level of an Arctic summer because of their orbit and tilt.” She peered at Keegan.

  Keegan shook his head, “This is like terra forming. But something like that can take a century or more even to begin to affect the planet's atmosphere.” Surprised by his sudden outburst, he thought that so many years in the service had long since suppressed the urge to question orders. He had doubts. Science had never been his best subject, but at least he had paid enough attention back in college to know that what Rizard was outlining was pure science fiction. “What's the catalyst?"

  Rizard arched her eyebrows. Keegan swore he almost caught a hint of a smile. “Colonel, that information is on a need to know basis. And you don't need to know."

  "How long are the effects going to last?” Hollis asked

  Rizard placed her arms behind her. “We're not sure. We think approximately a decade for the most intense planetary reactions and a century for the full effect to dissipate barring no further intervention. This is not a certainty of course, that's mainly why we are testing our theories on Tau Ceti Three. Not only is the system uninhabited, our intelligence reports say the enemy has plans of operating a base from that very planet. This is where the cryos come in. The inclement temperatures have proven detrimental to regular humans. But cryos seemed to have a better tolerance for the planet's bitter weather and cold in general. Several cryo squads have been sent on planet to monitor enemy activity and install the machinery that is capable of starting the transformation.” She finished and sat down.

  Keegan eyed the cryo 4468. He sat quietly next to Rizard. He seemed amused by her words. “The latest intel says that the enemy has begun to inhabit the planet ... hence your pilot's sighting, Colonel Podi."

  The CAG looked at Rizard suspiciously.

  "Yes, we received your report and it confirmed earlier ones taken of the enemy using dampening fields to prevent any scanning of the planet's surface.” Rizard motioned toward the cryo, “4468 has been on planet several times and will accompany the final insertion unit."

  "The name is Beller.” he declared, startling everyone.

  "What?” Rizard asked.

  "My name is Beller. John Beller. Stop calling me by that damn number like I'm an ... ATM password."

  CAG mumbled to his friend, “What's an ... ATM?"

  His friend shot him a weary glance.

  Chapter Five

  Caitlin pushed the micro-gravity cart into one of the ship's laundry areas. She greeted a few workers dressed in sweaty clothing who responded by purposely ignoring her. Caitlin swallowed hard trying not to feel wounded by their behavior. She pushed the cart against a wall inside the noisy, steamy room.

  The laundry room's windowless interior looked and felt like a massive steam bath. Three large washers the size of boulders sat aligned in a row against the wall. Two metal tubes ran to and from each washer and disappeared into the ceiling above. Several tables, which were bolted to the floor, sat covered in neatly folded towels and duffle bags full of clean laundry. Caitlin stood next to the row of dryers that hummed as they tossed the clothes effortlessly inside their compartments.

  The heat that spewed out of the washing machines and dryers in conjunction with the room's thick walls nauseated her. Her body reacted to the heat in a way that was different than normal. Not only did beads of perspiration form on her head, she noticed that her heart rate increased. It felt like it was trying to escape her body. Caitlin breathed deeply and fanned herself trying to cool off.

  "I've got another load for you.” She yelled over the din to the two workers standing by the washers. Their faces were shiny from moisture yet they didn't seem at all that uncomfortable in the heat.

  Private Hawkins strolled over to her playing with a toothpick in his mouth. He peered inside the hamper. “Is this the last load?” he asked wiping his head with the front of his shirt.

  "Yep,” she said nodding. I gotta get out of here, Caitlin warned herself.

  "Good.” He pointed to an empty hamper. “Dump it."

  "Scuttlebutt has it we're near the end,” Private Merrick said while slamming the door to a washer.

  "That's what you said last week.” Hawkins loaded an anti-gravity cart with clean towels and other medical wares. “This cart is just about ready to go back to sick bay."

  Caitlin nodded and quickly unloaded her cart trying to pay as little attention to the bloodstains as possible.

  "This time, it's supposed to be for real.” Merrick took a load out of the washer and putting it in the dryer. “Apparently we got the Vernean's on the run."

  Caitlin's heart continued to beat wildly. She puffed trying to calm her breathing. It was to no avai
l. She noticed her hands were shaking. She hid them from sight, not wanting the guys to see it.

  "Well, I won't believe anything until I am back on Armstrong station, heading on a shuttle for home,” Hawkins spat the toothpick into a container on the floor. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a fresh one.

  "I don't know. I think things are going better.” Merrick countered.

  "Yeah and I also command the ship. I'm down here ‘cause I like to keep in touch with the little people,” he replied.

  She was amazed that the two neither derided her or nor ignored her. They were just being themselves. There was some comfort in that. It was hard being conspicuously ignored; it was like being the new kid at school, forever.

  "Hey, if you are ... I'd like to go home."

  "So would the rest of us."

  Sweat rolled down her forehead as her body desperately tried to cool itself. Her blood pressure skyrocketed and her head pounded. She wanted to run out of there and jump into an ice cold shower but she knew that was not a possibility, because she wasn't scheduled for a shower for another four hours.

  Caitlin's eyes wandered around the room hoping to find something that would ease her suffering. She found her saving grace; two gray pipes with a sign posted on it which read: ‘Danger: coolant under high pressure.'

  She moved in front of it hoping to feel a little relief. Although the two men kept their conversation between one another, they didn't seem put off by her presence. She decided to get some answers. “How did this war start anyway?” Caitlin asked, turning her back to the pipes. The cool air around the pipes felt good against her sweat covered shirt.

  "Everybody knows this story.” Merrick laughed, “Where have you been, in a cave?"

  They don't know I'm a cryo? “No, I just didn't get out much.” She responded moving closer to the pipes. Her body cooled more.

  "Anyway, the Vernean's ... they started it.” Merrick explained taking off his cap and scratching his head.

  "What country are they from?” she asked curiously

  "Country? That's funny.” Hawkins laughed. “We got ourselves a comedian, here. Who the Hell knows where they came from? Hell, they're just a weird bunch of aliens Hell-bent on killing us, is all I know."

  "Aliens?” Caitlin frowned and leaned against the pipes. A rush of endorphins flew through her body. She gasped in spite of herself and sighed deeply. The cold felt great.

  "Yeah, aliens. They hate us because we wouldn't take any crap off of them by letting them enslave us. Or at least that's what will happen if we lose."

  "Slavery? Who else is fighting with us?"

  Hawkins and Merrick looked at each other incredulously.

  "A whole bunch of Federations and Alliances, but our biggest allies are the Wacians,” Hawkins answered. The words came out of his mouth slowly. “We've been at war for three years now."

  "Oh.” She nodded. “Three years. That's right.” She tried to hide her ignorance.

  Wacians? Who the Hell are they? They must be aliens, too. She strolled toward the full laundry cart. Each day her new life reminded her of how much time had slipped through her fingers while she slept. “Thanks guys.” Caitlin waved and pushed the cart heading out the room.

  She watched Merrick amble over to Hawkins. “What the Hell was that all about?” Merrick asked.

  Stopping outside the hatch, she listened intently.

  "Cryo,” Hawkins remarked looking at the hatch.

  "How can you tell? She doesn't look as pale as a lot of them."

  "Can you lean on those pipes and leave without us having to peel you off?

  She stiffened. Why hadn't the pipe harmed me? Why did the laundry room's heat affect me so much?

  Pushing the cart forward, Caitlin wondered what kind of a nightmare had she awakened into and what was to become of her?

  * * * *

  Keegan stared at Beller malevolently. He knew Beller's type and he didn't like him one bit. He was embittered and ticked off. Any questions of his abilities were perceived as personal attacks, which meant Beller was difficult to debrief.

  "What are the conditions on planet?” Keegan asked knowing he had to press hard to get what he wanted.

  "Cold, very cold."

  "Good, you have the grasp of the obvious. Maybe now you can be more specific.” Keegan shot back. “According to your last mission brief you were supposed to have made it to the northernmost continent."

  Beller scratched his chin. “I had and they were there.” He said unhurriedly, “I don't know if they inhabit the entire continent because I was on the easternmost section near grid point alpha. I didn't see bases, but I saw patrols."

  "Go on, Mr. Beller,” Hollis pressed.

  Beller eyed Keegan whose intense expression never wavered, “The weather conditions on planet are so harsh, I'm not sure if above ground bases would be feasible."

  "What kind of patrols did you see?” Keegan asked leaning forward in his chair.

  "Aerial and roving foot patrols."

  Colonel Rizard looked at Colonel Keegan and nodded taking his cue in the questioning.

  "How were you not spotted?” Rizard asked her voice dry and impersonal.

  Beller peered at Rizard and said matter-of-factly, “I hid."

  "Where?” Keegan asked

  "In the snow."

  "The latest intel reports say that they don't have any satellites or surveillance orbiting the planets so they're probably not monitoring the planet very closely,” Hollis offered.

  "Yes they are. They have ground based sensors.” Beller answered more quietly, “That's how we alerted them to our presence."

  "Reports say that the planet is uninhabited and there was minimal enemy presence. So how did you manage to lose everyone under your command?” Rizard countered.

  Beller sat straight, taken aback, “I'm on your side remember?” He almost yelled. “You guys were the ones who sent me there. Hell, I haven't done this sort of thing in over eighty years."

  "Beller we just want to find out what happened.” Keegan expressed coolly.

  Diverting his eyes from Rizard, Beller sighed. “It's like I'm talking to a wall. The one thing I learned after being in the service for over twenty years is, don't rely too much on intel. It's often wrong."

  "Okay Beller,” Keegan pulled his chair close to him. He looked the man straight in the eye. “You were on the ground. Tell us what's really going on down there. Start by telling us what happened to your people."

  "We inserted with no problem. Camilla and I took the team overland through the valley using the mountains as cover. Most of the time there was gusting snow, so visibility was down to twenty feet at its worst.” He eyed Keegan, “As you know they are not bothered by the cold so much. But we are, or most of us, at least. When they run their scans, they use infrared to detect our heat signatures, it's more accurate in these situations. Well, when this big storm hit, even that wouldn't work. It was cold, but we had an advantage so we pushed on to grid point Alpha—"

  "Near the marker that denotes the eastern most point of the continent,” Rizard interrupted.

  "Yes, I know, I was there remember?” Beller snapped. “Anyways, it seems they were preparing a more permanent military installation."

  Keegan glanced at Rizard as if to say ‘did you know about this?’ She hurriedly looked away. He returned his attention to Beller.

  "We saw vehicles and materials being loaded. We managed to stay there for three days gathering intel.” A look of pride flashed across his face. His expression soured, “then it stopped snowing and we were detected."

  Beller shifted in his seat. “It was Hell. It's like they come at you with everything they have and then bring more. At least when the snow stopped we were able to beat feet. We got about halfway to the rendezvous point before they got Gil, Sam and Chuck. Camille and I had to leave them and press on.” Beller said rubbing his temples furiously as the memories poured into his consciousness.

  "I guess we had a mile to go when
she and I were checking the map and her ... chest exploded. A god damn sniper got her!"

  Beller's lips quivered in anger and then sadness. He composed himself and cleared his throat. “Umm ... they were at least a half an hour behind me at any given time. So until it was time for me to leave, I hid."

  "Where?” Keegan asked empathizing with Beller's pain. He had lost one too many loved ones to not know the hurt Beller was experiencing. Keegan remembered hearing the news of his wife's death by friendly fire because of the Wacians. He still couldn't bring himself to love another, especially not in time of war.

  "I buried myself beneath a snow bank.” Beller answered simply, “I went into a semi-conscious state, the rescue team found me and brought me back.” Beller looked at his boots, cracked from the cold.

  The room fell silent for a brief moment until Hollis stood up. The chairs echoed in the silent room as everyone followed her move.

  "Thank you Mr. Beller for your cooperation.” She nodded. “A corporal is waiting outside who will escort you back to your quarters."

  Beller's gaze locked onto Keegan's. His expression unreadable, he didn't even seem tired. But Keegan knew better, one doesn't come back from a mission like that without being exhausted. Only the best of operators knew how to hide it. Beller rose from his chair and headed for the hatchway. Keegan wondered if Beller was brought in for a debriefing or an interrogation.

  Chapter Six

  "What a shithole!” a woman said while throwing her clothes on a bunk. “Anyone who thought dying was bad, they oughtta try living down in this dungeon.” She was dressed in hodge podge clothing that barely fit. She and nine other men and women shared the cramped quarters of a hastily converted storage room.

  "Things could be worse?” a guy cracked.

  "How?” she griped. “We could be back on those medical drone ships. You know I heard that they were using people like us for spare parts!"

  "That's crap!” another guy remarked

  "Oh, yeah and them using us as slave labor on this ship is some how more believable?"

  The bunks in the room were spread apart with five on one side of the room, one top of the other, and five more on the other side. A narrow aisle cut through the room, which led to the hatch. The room was dimly lit and had a distinct drabness to it. An older man, who appeared to be in his early sixties, stepped over a mound of clothes on the floor and various boots and shoes as he made his way toward his bunk.