me.'
'At least three hundred of them,' she said, mostly guessing. 'More of them coming out every second.'
'All of them have their hands up,' Goodbud said.
'Hold your fire,' Woo told them.
'What about the ones still coming forward from the trench?' Xenia asked.
'Hold you fire on them too,' he said. 'Let me get command and see what the fuck is going on.'
The group walked slowly forward, hands held high, moving step by step over the open ground they'd recently scrambled their way across. A few of the Martian positions opened up on them, mostly out of instinct. More than two dozen were gunned down with bullets. Another two dozen were blown up by tank rounds. The rest kept moving forward, not reacting to the fire, not breaking, not running, trying not to panic. This had been per instructions given by Captain Callahan. After a minute or so, the fire on the formation stopped. As they went further out all enemy fire stopped completely — at least in this sector of the line.
Hundreds of other marines had been rushing forward at the time, having just cleared the lethal anti-tank trench and going for the final dash to what was being called 'the assembly point'. Many didn't notice at first that the enemy fire had stopped. But as they did they noticed the line of fellow marines walking toward them with their hands in the air. Gradually, the onrushing marines slowed their pace, understanding dawning over them.
Callahan didn't communicate with the onrushing men at all. He didn't have to. They all saw that the death and destruction that had been killing them and maiming them had come to a halt. The only reason this could be so was because the men who had gone before them were retreating. Most concluded that the attack they were racing to join had been aborted. Most didn't bother to speculate why. To a man they stopped in their tracks and waited for the formation to catch up with them. Hands were held up, telling them which tactical channel to turn to.
'We're done,' was the universal message delivered to these men. 'Throw down your gun and join us or go forward and get killed. It's your choice.'
Nobody in this sector of the battle chose the latter option. They threw down their guns and turned around, joining the group and going back the way they had come.
The rebellion against orders spread very quickly. It started in the adjoining sectors. Men going forward saw the others going backwards with no guns, their hands held high. They saw that the men doing this were not under fire. They threw down their weapons and joined them. The men in the sections adjoining these saw the same thing and repeated this action. Within fifteen minutes the entire line had given up, most with unspeakable gratitude. For the first time in hours all of the Martian guns went silent.
For all intents and purposes, the Battle for Eden was over. The will of the WestHem marines had been broken.
Chapter 26
MPG Headquarters, New Pittsburgh
September 14, 2146, 2000 hours
'It's confirmed, Kevin,' General Zoloft told General Jackson via video link. 'The WestHem marines are in full retreat from the main line. They started giving up in droves twenty minutes ago. It started at the Pillbox 73 and 72 positions and spread all along the line from there.'
'Could it be some kind of trickery?' Jackson asked, wanting to believe what he was being told but not wanting to fall into a trap.
'I don't think so,' Zoloft replied. 'They threw down their weapons and left them in the dirt. They're walking back toward the anti-tank ditch with their hands in the air. I can't imagine what kind of trickery it could possibly be. Take a look at the video from Peepers two and three.'
Jackson called those particular images up on his screen and looked at the two views taken from the small drone aircraft circling twelve thousand meters above the battlefield. He saw literally thousands of men, marching slowing westward, their hands held high in the air as they stepped around their fallen comrades.
'It looks like the real thing all right,' he said. 'Have you ordered a cease-fire?'
'I didn't have to,' Zoloft said. 'Our troops stopped firing at them as soon as the marines started their retreat... well... as soon as they realized that was what the marines were doing. There were a few incidents of retreating marines being shot down.'
'Unfortunate, but understandable,' Jackson said. 'In any case, put out a general order just to make it official. Nobody is to fire on retreating troops for any reason. Extend this order to your aircraft and your special forces teams that are hitting the armor behind the ditch. Fire only if fired upon or if the marines start moving forward again.'
'It will be done immediately,' Zoloft said. He paused for a few moments, staring at his commander's image. 'You were right, Kevin. You were right all along. They are retreating because they knew we'd stop shooting at them if they did. The order you gave during phase one, the order we all protested... that order just saved Eden.'
'I'm pleased that I've vindicated myself,' Jackson said. 'Not so much for the repair of my stained reputation as for the cessation of hostilities it has caused. This is as close as I ever want to cut it.'
'Amen,' Zoloft agreed. 'For a while there I thought... well... you know what I thought. My sincerest apologies, Kevin, for all the flack I shot at you about that cease-fire order after phase one. I should've known better than to question you.'
'Bullshit,' Jackson said. 'My order went against basic military logic and practice. As commander, I'm allowed to do that if I think it makes sense. I would have worried, however, if you wouldn't have questioned my decision. You were just doing your job. I don't want people who follow me blindly. Now stop apologizing and start passing on those orders. Be sure to tell your people how goddamned proud you are of them.'
'Yes, sir!' Zoloft replied smartly, a smile on his face. He signed off.
Jackson leaned back in his chair with a tired yawn. He looked over at Laura Whiting, who had been hanging out in the war room with him ever since returning from her trip to the hospital to visit the wounded. 'We did it,' he told her. 'We actually went and did it, Laura. Eden held. New Pittsburgh is going to hold. The Earthlings will be crawling back home in defeat soon. Mars is still free.'
'Yeah,' she said, her smile genuine but faintly troubled for some reason. 'We did it. How close did we actually come to losing Eden?'
Jackson held the thumb and forefinger of his right hand about a centimeter apart. 'This close,' he said. 'There is no way we could have held those marines back from entering the MPG base if they would've thrown themselves at us. They would've taken heavy losses but they would have eventually pushed through or forced us to surrender. It was a mathematical certainty. We didn't beat them, Laura. We made them give up.'
'That's what you always said would repel an invader,' she reminded. 'It worked admirably.'
'I never thought it would be that close though. I'm going to make sure it's never that close again.'
Jeff Creek and the rest of his squad were the point squad for the re-occupation of Pillbox 73. Intelligence had assured them that all WestHem marines still capable of fighting had pulled back from the perimeter, their weapons thrown down, their hands held high. Jeff had no reason to question the intelligence report. After all they had rarely, if ever, been wrong so far. What he was concerned about were the men still inside the pillbox. Most would be dead. Some, however, might only be wounded — wounded, desperate, and possibly not in the communication loop that the withdrawing marines were using.
They approached carefully through the access trench, two platoons of 2nd Infantry soldiers and two main battle tanks waiting at the fallback trench to provide cover for them. They kept their M-24s locked, loaded, and held out before them, ready to fire at the slightest hint of trouble.
'Coming up on the entrance,' Jeff reported. He had lost the random number drawing for point position, which meant he was the point man. 'There's two dead marines just outside. They look like wounded that someone dragged out and then dropped there. I can see some arms and legs just inside. Nothing moving.'
'Copy,' replied Sergeant Walker. 'Drogan, Zanderson, Clipjoint, Zing — get up on either side of the trench and against the wall next to the entrance. Get some frags out and ready to use but don't toss them in unless Creek comes under fire.'
