Dark Omega

CHAPTER 12 - COLONEL'S ORDERS

"Hey, kid," one of the GIs on duty stepped out from behind a reinforced nanocrete roadblock, "you're not supposed to be here. Back off, or I'll put a round through you." He said it matter-of-factly, his long-barreled pulse rifle not fully raised, but nevertheless ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Haides fought the urge to turn and run. No matter how wrong it felt to stand out in the open, he was committed—bolting now would get him shot for sure.

The soldier with the rifle was only a handful of meters away, barely visible through the thick mist. His squadmates were no more than dark shapes veiled in white. Beyond them, Haides could make out the contours of the compound wall, the roadblocks, and the reinforced guard post. It was like the rest of the galaxy didn't exist. It was just the GIs and the boy, surrounded by infinite whiteness.

"I want my mother," Haides said, remaining rooted to the spot. "She's here with the Colonel. Can you get her for me?" He got a blank look in return. "Tell her to be quick. It's my birthday." He didn't say it was his twelfth birthday. Better they believed him to be younger. Most soldiers were reluctant to gun down children. The smaller the kid, the less likely they were to shoot—a slight advantage, but an advantage, nonetheless.

Tense seconds passed before the GI lets his rifle barrel drop. Just a few centimeters, but Haides knew the moment of greatest danger had passed.

Another voice, deep and menacing. "Get that auto trained." Followed by an even louder: "Now!" A multi-barreled pulse cannon swiveled towards Haides, three gunmetal barrels whipping the mist into chaotic swirls. "Luca! Get your ass back into cover."

"Relax, Sarge, I got this," the man with the rifle replied.

A hairy arm with rolled-up sleeves appeared, followed by the owner of the voice, a massive soldier with the hashes of a sergeant-major. The hairy arm grabbed Luca by the back of his utility webbing and yanked him back into cover. "Mazzo. Get me a scan!" Two drawn-out seconds went by. "Now, Mazzo. Now!"

Another voice, coolly professional and bitingly acidic at the same time. "All clear, Sarge. No other life signs, no guns, no explosives. All green."

Sarge, in a low and growling voice. "You motherfucking morons. You're the most incompetent little fucks I have ever had the misfortune of serving with. You never learn. It's a miracle any of you are still alive. First, you secure the area with the biggest fucking gun you have. Then scan the motherfucking area to see if there might be, I don't know, like an ambush or a sniper or a suicide bomber or something." He was screaming at the top of his voice by now, spittle flying. "How fucking hard can it be?" The last sentence was hammered out, word by word.

The hulking shape of Sarge towered out of the mist, like some ancient lighthouse hewn from rough, unyielding granite. "You, kid. Front and center." Haides guessed that meant him, so he scurried over. A massive fist immediately grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close, forcing the cool ceramic barrel-cover of a heavy pulse pistol into a hollow cheek.

"Hey Sarge," the GI called Luca said, getting up and out of cover again, moving forward, "no need to get all worked up. I know the kid. He comes here with his mother from time to time. You know, the curvy one with the dark hair. The one that Colonel Burness likes," he added when the mention of dark hair didn't ring any of the hairy non-com's bells. "That's why I didn't fry his little brain. He's cool. You can let him through."

So he was going to shoot. Haides vowed silently never to pull a stunt like that again.

Haides recognized Luca now. He was one of Mother's 'special friends.' Had come by the house in the hills from time to time and later swung by the apartment. Always had chocolates or candy for the kids. He'd grown a beard since last Haides saw him. It had more red to it than his fair hair would suggest.