Although it became clear quite early on that their stores of oxygen would last no more than twenty-four hours, it wasn''t until a quick survey of the original route they had traversed revealed catastrophic levels of subsidence and welling tributaries of molten rock that panic truly set in.


    The way back is blocked


    NCOs


    The military drivers were mustered, all of them Saltillans, all of them Ash grades, and the question was put to them as to whether they would be able to find a different path back to Liberation''s Reach.


    They could try, was the answer, but the chances of success were low. There were so very many ancient capillaries lacing the subterranean systems of Desert , and not all of them traversable. Built up from hundreds of years of concerted industrial exploitation, the system of tunnel-ways ran in all directions and meandered for thousands of kilometers at a time. Absent a Bronze grade Blueprinter, choosing the wrong path meant, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, death by privation.


    Which is where the issue of limited oxygen hit hardest. The absconding officers had, in their avidity to ensure their own survival, apparently taken with them the lion''s share of oxygen.


    How can this be happen? fucking salt-sodsIt will not be tolerated of Sergeant Allih Belekov and it will not be tolerated of anyone else,


    That appeared to be the end of the budding inter-ethnic conflict.


    Their current position was a mere three to four hours from Liberation''s Reach, if they took the same route back. But when Thete, Karella and Belekov, the Jegorichians'' fastest runners—indeed the fastest runners in the whole contingent given that the remnants of the TAF First appeared to Betelgeuse to comprise only Ash grades—returned from their scouting mission, they reported that subsidence had rendered the entire width of the tunnel compromised past five kilometers, even though the lava streams welling behind them were, visibly, more than twenty kilometers away.


    As far as they could tell, their comms was jammed across the whole traversable length and breadth of the tunnel. The sheer range of the enemy''s jamming system evidenced Chimerae technology none of them had heretofore encountered.


    Finally and most crucially, only two other sub-tunnel-ways, both branching off in a southeasterly direction, were currently accessible. However, continuing subsidence was resulting in the steady encroachment of the volatile lava currents veining this portion of Desert''s mantle, and this meant the window of opportunity for escape was closing fast. According to Belekov''s best study, the sub-tunnel-ways would be inaccessible before the hour was up.


    It was quickly decided by the acting command line that they would take the closer sub-tunnel-way.


    There was little time to lose. Ten APCs—comprising one APC for casualties (i.e., injured personnel), one for support personnel, and eight for combat-ready personnel—and the only two surviving Plasma Leopards were prepared with full tanks of fuel, with the remaining APCs siphoned of their hypergolic fuel and scuttled for their stores of oxygen and other valuable resources.


    Of the thousands who had embarked on the Allied Forces'' chasedown operation, no more than 250 were attempting the uncertain journey back.


    <hr>


    "How far do their jammers reach?" Douglas asked about an hour into their droning trundle. A constant stream of white noise issued from the APC speakers. His wavy strands bobbed wig-like with every jump of the APC, and in his remaining hand he held a cricket-ration half-eaten and spilling crumbs onto the knee of Thete squeezed on his left against the troop compartment''s front siding.


    carbon-dioxide-scrubbers


    Air tastes rather stale,


    Thete was brooding to herself rather silently. Much had changed between Betelgeuse and Thete since the first APC ride they had shared. He could tell that something in the way he had acted—something in the way he was currently acting—chafed with Thete. On that front, he was no closer to discerning the specificities of Thete''s hangups.


    A simple case of competitive jealousy? Or, in the alternative, she fears my power.


    To Betelgeuse'' left was someone who was neither a Jegorichian nor a PLP. He glanced toward her, an old face from a different time, and he found her features reminiscent of a homeland already fading in his memories. He must have been on Desert for about an Earth-week, and already it felt like he had lived several lifetimes.


    Edith Pavlov was reticent as ever; her hair was as messy and tangled as Voke''s. She had followed him silently toward the Jegorichians'' APC as they were loading up, and no one thought to question the arrangement save for Entuban. "She''s a friend," Betelgeuse had declared to the Staff Sergeant, "and she will tell us about Sergeant Granger." He supposed he''d garnered enough clout by then that Entuban let them through without interrogation.


    Her eyeballs swiveled, as if sensing someone''s eyes on her, and their gazes met. He found exhaustion and other difficult things in her expression, and because she would not relinquish the connection he had to be the one to bring his eyes down from hers and pass his vision over the lines of exhaustion pressed into her skin and her little twitching button-nose.


    "It is very concerning. Their standard range is seven or eight hundred meters, but this is beyond anything we are recording since the start of the incursion," Entuban grumbled at the far end of the shuddering APC chassis, his form forced into kyphosis by the low ceiling.


    whole section


    "Cool off, Sarge," PFC Gelam interjected, raising a hand and placing it flat on Belekov''s exosuit.


    Cacliocos


    Belekov was growling and breathing heavily through gritted teeth. Entuban, secreted at the far end of the APC, had purposefully turned his head toward the hull doors. He wasn''t going to intervene.


    A hand was placed on Betelgeuse'' arm. "There is violence on his mind," Edith whispered, the first substantial words he had heard from her in a long time. "It has been burning for awhile."


    Cacliocos turned and regarded Belekov with an expression composed entirely of ice, his pupils glinting dangerously. "You may be right, Belekov, but you are only wasting oxygen. Calm yourself before I am forced to calm you down."


    "What are you saying, now?" Belekov growled, "you think I am your lackey that I must grovel before you? You and your officer friends are parasites and traitors, sucking where the Democracy tells you to suck. We walk into this shitshow because of people like you—"


    insubordinate


    "Why you fucking mongrel shit—" Belekov roared, his pigsnout reddening even under the purple glare of the ceiling light. He reached down to his railgun in a single fitful movement and, raising it forcefully, inadvertently struck Gelam''s forehead with its muzzle.


    The troop compartment erupted into chaos, and everyone started screaming or shouting or exclaiming confusedly at once. Gelam yelped and clasped a hand over his forehead, falling backward and thumping the back of his head against the metal siding. Entuban, surprised at the suddenness of the escalation, took to his feet and slammed his skull into the ceiling, the impact disorienting him and causing him to shift forward toward Private Misha Kern and Sergeant Von Fenak and Corporal Karella Jollow before him.


    The youngish Private Mizzarin Asaghar who was seated beside Entuban thought that the giant was about to fall into and crush the unfortunates opposite; he scrunched up his features and reached forward and attempted valiantly to arrest Entuban''s uncontrolled and uncontrollable stumble, but in so doing fell forward himself because the APC suddenly lurched, toppling facefirst into broad-shouldered Private Nano.


    It had just so happened that Private Nano was in the midst of regaining his feet, his eyes blazing with the intent of disarming Sergeant Belekov, when Private Asaghar''s uncontrolled advance brought their heads crashing painfully into each other, causing them to slump wordlessly against an alarmed Karella beside them.


    A second later, Karella, Von and Misha were squashed, cursing, into the chassis siding by Entuban''s bear-like form.


    WoahSmit


    Thete, flung backwards by the force of Douglas'' head-butt, was jabbering meaninglessly and flailing her arms and banging her elbows percussively into the metal partition behind her, sending reverberations through the floor and toward Betelgeuse'' feet and, in the circumstances, leaving shallow dents in the blacksteel sheeting.


    Edith was cringing soundlessly, her hands shooting reflexively toward her grenade pouches and her face starting to drain itself of all color. Voke was sitting to her left and, in the circumstances, managing to maintain an impressively composed expression, but had nevertheless raised his palm toward Belekov and was yelling his own ineffective attempts at defusing the situation.


    v-com


    Betelgeuse put his hand over Edith''s and shook his head, smoothing over her reflexive quailing. She loosened her grip on her grenade pouches, and he returned his attention to the standoff between Belekov and Cacliocos. Familiar and unmistakable emanations were projecting from Cacliocos'' person, causing Betelgeuse to brace himself. His other hand moved impulsively to the hilt of his combat knife.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Cacliocos bellowed. Power flowed. That stentorian command blasted from his chest and arrested the myriad motions of the denizens of that cramped space. A dark compulsion came over Belekov, and he slumped into his seat, his railgun clattering to the floor, his eyes glazing over.


    The scent of the compulsion matrix had become all too familiar to Betelgeuse. But this time the coercion came and went quickly like a singular pulse rippling across space.


    The troop compartment filled with heavy breaths. It took several seconds for the energy to retreat from its peak, and when calm finally reasserted itself Privates Nano and Asaghar led the injured in grunting painfully.


    "Belekov, do you hear me?" Cacliocos called. He had not moved a single step throughout all that commotion.


    Belekov blinked vacantly, then his expression enlivened and resumed its apoplexy. It was clear, however, that he would not pick up his weapon again; that time had passed.


    "You have turned your compulsion on us!" Belekov shouted, irate. "And you still pretend to be kinsman?"


    "It is a tool to be used if and when necessary. Or you would rather I let you blast a hole in the wall and kill us all?" Cacliocos inquired, raising an eyebrow.


    a damn good pointkinsmenSecond Battalion, Third Company


    "It is not something Captain Kelokrill would have done," asserted Belekov impudently.


    I


    You


    Cacliocos looked at him with dark eyes, observing him, scrutinizing his mannerisms. Belekov was squinting at him, nonplussed. Several seconds passed like this in silence.


    Seeing that no one was arguing against his intervention, Betelgeuse continued: "Sergeant Belekov, there was something obviously very wrong with this chasedown operation, everyone can see that. But in the first place your outburst endangers all of us here. That''s why I''m speaking—not because I am your kinsman, but because I have a vested interest in our shared survival."


    Belekov grunted, keeping his eyes narrowed.


    "Whatever you may think about our commander''s use of the compulsion, he has the onus to do whatever he can to preserve our lives. You can see that, no?"


    "You Taffy surely cannot understand the contempt which we rajul hold for the compulsion," Belekov rasped, but Betelgeuse could see that the wind had been taken out of his sails.


    "Okay, sure. Get this though—we PLPs," Betelgeuse pointed at Thete, Voke and Douglas in turn, "had originally been attached to Cacliocos'' platoon. And we are all that''s left of it. Do you know why?"


    Silence. The APC trundled over uneven terrain.


    "That man Major Storr made meatshields out of the entire Jegorichian company. Men and women like all of you. Rajul like you, I am sure. All dead because of the compulsion exercised by Jegorichians over other Jegorichians."


    "… The officers and their ilk wear similar shirts."


    "But before you were saying that it was not something Captain Kelokrill would have done?"


    Belekov opened his mouth, then closed it again.


    "Nobody can argue with the fact that Subaltern Cacliocos needed to do what he did to defuse the situation. Our lives hang by a thread here, Sergeant, and you must get it in your skull that we are all in the same boat. Subaltern Cacliocos is not the same as Lieutenant-Colonel Pilix for the very fact that the former marches with us into battle and the latter does not."


    Belekov looked away. Nano, to his right, placed a hand softly on the Sergeant''s shoulder, and this physical connection appeared to be tacitly accepted. To his other side Gelam was sporting an ugly welt on his forehead, and Gelam''s face was canted toward Private Callagessa, Smit and Douglas and hung with an expression that could only be described as bashful indignation.


    "Also," Betelgeuse added, "you should really check on Gelam there. Think you hit him pretty hard."


    For a long time after that the silence hung over them like a heavy pall, broken only by Entuban''s comms-traffic with the casualties APC to check on the conditions of Corporal Venna Tajiran and Private Julla Albouztani.


    Then whispers intruded upon the stubborn tension and smoothed it over and forced it into the background.


    <hr>


    "The others," Edith whispered, several hours after the commotion, "none of them… I mean, are you all that''s left of the…"


    She trailed off and never reached her noun.


    "… As far as I know," Betelgeuse said, shifting his head in her direction. He could see Voke beside her nodding off and dribbling a lazily threading trail out the side of his lip.


    "All of them… Dmitri, Logan… even Caleb?" Her lips were twitching wetly.


    "Caleb. You mean Caleb Reyes?"


    "... Yea. He''d talked to me back on Earth. He treated me well and talked to me properly. Like you did," Edith said. Betelgeuse thought her eyes rather large for an Edomite. But then Chrysilla had large eyes too. Maybe it was a woman thing. Maybe they practiced. Frederica hadn''t been like that at all.


    "Caleb passed earlier, during the first skirmish. It just so happened that I was beside him when he died."


    He died for the Democracy. He died for something pointless.


    Edith looked away. Her eyes looked like they were welling, but it appeared she had gotten a better handle on herself since the first time they had met. But then, Earth had been a long time ago.


    "So many have died already," Edith said. It was a statement as much aimed at describing a state of mind as it expressed a fact, and Betelgeuse thought about the experiences she must have had over the past two days.


    "The PLPs were attached to the Jegorich First. They died with their units," Betelgeuse said, returning his gaze to the ceiling and finding in the expanse of dull and purple-lighted metal a temporary peace.


    "Betelgeuse," Edith mumbled.


    He raised an eyebrow at the light. His vision was starting to spot with globy whites. As the silence yawned, he returned his attention to Edith.


    "I spent a long time thinking about the PLPs," she said. She was scrutinizing the area just above his eyes, and he supposed she was close enough to see the little ''M'' embossed in keloid and centering his penal brand.


    "I''m glad you''re still here," she finished, turning away suddenly.


    That Michael Thane has a cockroach sense, after all.


    "... Alisha as well. She was in Michael''s section," Edith added. An image rose unbidden to Betelgeuse'' mind, and in it he saw Frederica walking across a ridgeline of ironred sand, her back turned to him. Beside her was the diminutive Alisha Ruiz, traipsing after her like a child trails its mother. They were walking and talking, the two. Betelgeuse found that he couldn''t quite place the memory—he was getting sleepy, and his eyelids were starting to droop.


    "… So she survived. I didn''t see her," Betelgeuse muttered.


    "Alisha was the first to come to Rolf, you know?"


    His eyes snapped open. "What do you mean?… She just up and went over to your unit? How dozzat even work?"


    "It''s… I… I don''t know all the details," Edith managed, flustered by his sudden increase in interest.


    "Edith, how did you all end up at support line?" Betelgeuse pressed. He brought his face close to Edith again, and his bloodshot eyes held hers in thrall. A strong and sour scent was rolling off Edith''s body and swatting him in the face.


    But she shook her head slightly, and he understood that she couldn''t say. Not in front of the others. When he leaned back against the uncomfortably perpendicular wall of the troop compartment, he caught Cacliocos glancing at them.


    "Broad strokes?" he said, leaning down sideways and bringing his ear closer to Edith.


    "There was a… some kind of argument between Rolf and our platoon commander," Edith whispered. She paused, and Betelgeuse nodded slightly. "It escalated from something, I don''t know what, but I think it was because Subaltern Detlev wasn''t too happy with Rolf''s elevation. Because… because Rolf was put in for a battlefield promotion after the Chimerae nuked our whole frontline with drones. We got caught out in the open and lost pretty much all our Sergeants and officers save for Subaltern Detlev."


    "And after the argument this Detlev was somehow no longer in the picture, and Rolf was left in charge of the impromptu plan to collapse the side of the mine-shaft onto the Chimerae?" Betelgeuse whispered back.


    "... Pretty much," Edith sniffled, squeezing her eyes shut. "The orders had been piped down by the chasedown op''s commanders to destroy the portside wall, and all of the other units were sending claymores our way…"


    Military Auxiliary


    "... It wasn''t Rolf. It was Aminata. He warned us."


    The Darkskin. A PLP. One of Michael''s guys. Maybe he has a related Increment.


    "So by then Michael''s side had already gotten with Rolf. Maybe Michael sent Alisha to Rolf, and they must have been in close proximity, perhaps the next unit over," Betelgeuse suggested quietly. "And Rolf commandeered them. Maybe against the will of their officer."


    Edith blinked, pressed her lips together, then nodded. "Yes… and at that point Rolf delegated control over the demolition op to… one of the other units'' Sergeants… one of the Sergeants that had come over with the claymores. Rolf told him we were to be redeployed toward the middle."


    But he made for support line instead,


    "How about Guo Xun? How did he come to be under Rolf?"


    "I… don''t know."


    Edith and Betelgeuse settled into silence.


    Betelgeuse would raise the subject of compulsion some minutes later, but then retract his question on seeing Edith''s quizzical expression. There was nothing else to talk about and Edith eventually hunched over and gave herself up to an uncomfortable sleep.


    <hr>


    When the APC shuddered to a stop approximately half an hour later, most of the troop compartment had been lulled to sleep by the constant crackle of static. The Chimerae jammers had not let up in the least.


    Hrodwulf''s voice cut through the white noise, calling Cacliocos to the APC comms; the haggard Subaltern pulled back the aperture-shutter and leaned over into the front compartment, beckoning Betelgeuse over.


    "I am here, Sergeant Granger," Cacliocos responded. As he uttered those words Betelgeuse thought the officer looked almost wasted.


    *krrshk**krrshk*


    quarter


    "Repeat your message, Sergeant Granger, you''re breaking up. Short-range comms-quality is still low," Cacliocos returned.


    *krrshk*


    "Corporal Jackson," Cacliocos addressed the Saltillan, "see if you can bring it up on the screen. Check the sensors."


    Corporal Jackson had already pulled the hanging screen down over the dashboard and was tapping his way through various screens, nodding and mumbling to himself in choppy dialect.


    They were shortly brought to a screen with a running pulse-wave whose amplitude appeared synchronized to the shuddering of the APC chassis.


    "Sir, the engine is affecting the reading," Corporal Jackson said, indicating the spikes in the reading.


    "Turn it off," Cacliocos snapped.


    The APC powered down with a dull whine, and the graph reading jumped wildly before settling into a low-amplitude jitter.


    "It''s small, but there''s definitely disturbance… almost like…" the driver, Private Reese, said, squinting over at the terminal.


    "Someone''s drilling," finished Cacliocos. Over the long hours his appearance had deteriorated beyond grimness to depression, as if something was eating him from the inside; but on seeing this his countenance transformed into something truly wretched, and Betelgeuse'' soul shivered in wonder at the aspect of self-annihilation that had come over that crumbling man.


    "Sergeant Granger, based on the information available I would advise that these are signs of Bejana."