Extinction

tumbling into the stack of bricks behind them. Loose equipment and the surviving hovertanks slid along, revving hopelessly to stabilize themselves. Men were crushed and mangled. Many fell all the way to the distant back wall of the hold, where they lay in a tangle of broken limbs. Few of them died, however. My nanotized marines were beyond tough, and survived where normal men would have perished. Over the next few days of healing, however, many of them came to wish they had died.

The great doors at the front of the hold closed with agonizing slowness. When they finally clanged shut, cutting out the red glare of the giant sun, they left us in the cold and dark. Men groaned, hissed and sobbed. Some begged to be dug out of wreckage. Others shouted with glee to be off Helios and back into space.

All told, Riggs’ Pigs had lost over two thirds our complement of human lives in the Helios campaign. We had a fighting strength of less than two thousand men. Very few of those I’d taken with me into the Worm stronghold remained standing.

We figured out later Major Robinson had been swallowed by the giant Worm, along with many others. One of the turrets the monster had decided to devour had been manned by the Major himself. Of my entire command staff, only Captain Sarin still lived.

“It’s too bad we didn’t kill that damned giant,” Sandra said to me during the first quiet moment we had in our quarters.

“The Worms are going to need that monster to hollow out a new mound,” I said.

“I’m surprised you care about them at all. What are we going to do now, Kyle?”

“We’ll go home. We’ll build up, and next year when the Macros come for another load of cannon-fodder, well, we might have a surprise of our own waiting for them.”

“You’re talking about starting the war again.”

“What do you call this?” I asked.

“At least we won,” she said.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, we didn’t. The war never ended, and we just killed our own side.”

Sandra folded herself in my lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The Worms were on our side. I’m beginning to understand this universe now. We are organic life-and the machines are our real enemies. They are living death.”

“I want all this bloodshed to be over,” she said.

“Well, it’s not over. We’re in it deep. But I’m thinking about a new kind of war. A war of flesh against machine. This time, we won’t be kissing any big, metal behinds. And we’ll be fighting on the right side.”

“Can you do one thing for me, Colonel?” she asked.

I looked at her. Our faces were close, but we didn’t kiss. “Name it.”

“Don’t take me with you next time.”

I huffed. “Then don’t ask to come.”

“I’ll have to ask. Just tell me no.”

I smiled. “You know I can’t do that.”

Sandra finally stopped talking and we kissed. For a short time, life was good.