“What?” Santana demanded, incredulously. “What do you mean you can’t fi?nd him? He was strapped to your back!
Over.”
“I mean the bastard bailed out,” Shaley answered angrily.
“And I can’t fi?nd him. Over.”
“Alpha Six to Alpha Company,” Santana said. “Form on me! Alpha One-Four will provide security while we search for the general. Execute. Out.”
Meanwhile, as the surviving members of Alpha Company gathered to look for the allied commander, General Akoto was deep beneath the city of Yal-Am, preparing to deliver the Kiyo—the killing stroke. Because everything, including the retreat up over Tow-Tok Pass, and the way the ongoing battle was being fought had been leading up to this: the moment when the allies would enter the killing ground and give themselves over to the fi?nal slaughter. Thanks to massive incompetence on the part of their military leaders, the process had taken much longer than anticipated, thereby extending the amount of time available for the purpose of conquering Earth. Thus, the most important aspect of Akoto’s mission had already been accomplished.
The general was too old for active service in the minds of many, as was apparent from the age spots on his chitin, and the many maladies for which the doctors were treating him. But there was nothing wrong with his mind, which was sword bright, and as keen as a thrice-honed blade. This was why he knew that, even as a seemingly unstoppable juggernaut rolled toward the depopulated city of Yal-Am, a unique opportunity lay before him. Rather than simply stalling the allies, as the old warrior had originally been ordered to do, it was his intention to defeat them! More than that, to drive the degenerates back into space—where others could deal with them.
The navy would have to do its part, of course. But the hypercom call had been sent, and even as Akoto’s servant strapped his sword to the old warrior’s back, a battle group was emerging from hyperspace. Soon, within a matter of hours, all of the allied warships presently in orbit around Gamma-014 would be fi?ghting for their lives. While that battle took place, Akoto, plus ten thousand heavily armed Ramanthian regulars, were going to pour up out of the natural caverns located below the city of Yal-Am and consume the fi?ve thousand allied troops presently rushing to their deaths. Because exhausted from the battle just fought—the badly outnumbered humans would be easy meat. And Akoto was known for a hearty appetite. The warrior took pleasure in his joke—and that was the moment when the real battle began.
Because the Ramanthians had been swept from the fi?eld of battle, Alpha Company was pretty much on its own, as the legionnaires completed the third, and what would have to be fi?nal, search for General-453. Or, failing that, what remained of his body. But there was no sign of the offi?cer so far, and Santana was just about to wrap up the effort, when a voice came over the division push—a rarely used com channel that was reserved for extreme emergencies since it had the effect of smothering communications at the battalion, company, and platoon level. “This is General-453,” the voice proclaimed. “I was held prisoner until fi?fteen minutes ago. . . . The man who led the assault is a renegade who calls himself Colonel Six. Seize the imposter and place him under arrest! I will arrive in Yal-Am shortly. Out.”
The announcement was like a bolt out of the blue. It seemed that the Seebo who had reformulated allied strategy, and led the successful assault against the Ramanthians, had been none other than the clone Santana had been ordered to track down! Knowing that his impersonation would have to end, he had taken his leave just short of the fi?nal goal. That was shocking enough, but what took place over the next few minutes was even more so. It began with a sudden fl?urry of confused radio traffi?c, soon followed by frantic calls for help, and a storm of gunfi? re. Santana ordered his unit forward, but hadn’t traveled more than a hundred feet when Kobbi came over the regimental push. His voice was calm but urgent. “It was a trap! Thousands of Ramanthians were hiding underground. The 1st REC will fall back toward the west. Bravo Company, 1st Battalion, will escort the wounded. Alpha Company, 2nd Battalion, will provide covering fi?re—”
Santana overrode the transmission to give orders at that point. By repositioning his remaining quad, and surrounding it with Trooper IIs, the cavalry offi?cer was able to create an island of steel in the middle of the horrifi?c battlefi?eld. And that was important, because as the badly mauled allied troops streamed back along both fl?anks, the company could keep the pursuing aliens from overrunning them. As other units fell in next to the legionnaires, what had been an island was transformed into a defensive wall—a barrier that fell back every ten minutes or so, giving more survivors an opportunity to escape, and denying the bugs the slaughter they had been looking forward to. But many of the cyborgs had run out of ammunition by then, as had the foot soldiers, which meant that orderly though the retreat was, it couldn’t hold. That reality became horribly clear as the allies were pushed back through what had been their rear lines, where unit cohesion began to break down, and everything came apart.
Offi?cial records would eventually show that General Kobbi attempted to call in an orbital bombardment on his own position, hoping to kill everyone in the area, but couldn’t fi?nd a navy ship that wasn’t already fi?ghting for its life. Total chaos ensued as more than three thousand allied troops and civilian volunteers began the long, cold march up over Tow-Tok Pass, toward the bases beyond. The battle of YalAm had been lost.
15
Allies are enemies who intend to attack you later.
PLANET ALPHA-001, THE CLONE HEGEMONY
The last three days had been hellish. And as Alpha Clone Antonio-Seven entered the Emergency Operations Center normally reserved for natural disasters, he felt sick to his stomach. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a general uprising was taking place. Not just on Alpha-001, but if reports could be believed, on all of the Hegemony’s most important planets. Millions of formerly law-abiding citizens had gone on strike, and with no work to keep them occupied, had fl?ooded out onto the streets, where the treacherous Trotskis and Fisks were waiting to exhort them. That was when the mass demonstrations began, some of which had evolved into riots, as the Romos and Nerovs tried to disperse the crowds. The riots produced casualties on both sides. But when a worker was injured, or killed, rebel leaders referred to that individual as a “victim.” Whereas dead Nerovs were hung from lampposts and their dead bodies pelted with rocks.
Of course, Antonio knew some of that treatment was due to the fact that so many Nerovs had participated in the death squads his “brother” Pietro had conceived of as a way to “keep the lid on.” The strategy had been
