ROOKIE

“You have got to be frigging kidding me!”

Bak “Flash” Gordon gaped out of the dusty transporter window as the lurid alien landscape whirled past.

“It’s pink! The mountains, the rocks, even the dirt, it’s all pink!”

Several of the other grunts craned from their seats to look out of the windows.

“Oh man, look at the colour of that sky!” John Corbin said, looking up. “Now that is weird! Green sky, pink landscape. How freaky is that?”

“No wonder it’s so hot. There’s two suns,” pointed out Norbreck.

The transporter had just exited from the underground boarding point beneath the arrivals building; this was the first any of the thirty grunts on board had seen of their new assignment.

“Don’t fret it, Gordon,” growled Sergeant Drinkwater’s gravel voice from the front of the transporter. Dinks to the new recruits when they thought he was out of earshot.

“Ya gotta remember, we’re Rangers of the Eighty-Seventh, ‘Seeing, not seen.’ Once you get your new uniforms, you’ll blend right in.”

Flash looked aghast at the sergeant. “Don’t tell me that, Sarge…”

Drinkwater grinned, his even, white teeth brilliant against black skin.

“Camouflage is everything, soldier.”

Glances flew between several of the men.

“Y’mean…” Billings began. “Aw Jeez, how am I gonna send photos of me home to my girl wearing a pink uniform?”

“It’ll be no problem for most of you,” Drinkwater said. Then added maliciously, “’Course Gordon’s gonna have a situation with that red hair of his. He’ll look like a dick with the clap.”

Flash scowled.

“Now, back in your seats. It’s a two-hour trip to the base. Settle down and chill while you can. There’ll be precious little time for it later.” Drinkwater made himself comfortable, a small smile playing on his lips.

*

Nick Dale also grinned quietly as he pulled his peaked cap down over his eyes and began to doze.

“Can you believe this place?”

Nick cracked an eye as Flash sat down beside him.

“Third trip, my man,” Nick said, closing his eyes again.

“Third?” Flash said. “So you knew everything was pink, and you didn’t let on?”

“Wouldn’t wanna spoil the surprise,” Nick said. “Besides, the other two trips were field explorations; this is my first tour as an enlisted man.”

“Field exploration? Who for?” Flash asked.

“Holistic Minerals Corporation,” Nick answered. “I worked for them as an astrogeologist. Didn’t really get to see much. Figured if I signed up, I might get to see a lot more.”

“What’s to see?” Flash grumbled. “Pink, pink, and more pink. What I don’t get is what we’re doing on this dirt ball in the first place.”

“Verdanium,” Norbreck said from behind them. “The wonder metal of the Twenty-Fourth Century. That, and a shitload of other precious minerals and ores. This rock is full of the good stuff.”

“And a lot of bad.” Nick pushed his cap back and sat up. “Look around,” he said. “What d’you see?”

Flash looked. “Grunts.”

“Right,” Nick agreed. “What d’you think is their average age?”

“Aw man, I dunno,” Flash said. “Twenty, maybe twenty-two.”

“You sure?” Nick quizzed. “What about Dinks? How old do you think he is?”

Flash frowned, guessing ages not being his forte.

“He’s a sergeant,” chimed in Norbreck. “That’s gotta make him early thirties.”

“This is his fourth tour,” Nick told them.

“Jeez, he must love the place,” Flash said in wonder.

“You not getting it,” Nick said. “My first trip out here, I was twenty-two…”

“So?” Flash was totally mystified.

“Billings is worried about sending photos home to his girl. He hasn’t realised yet, he’s now seven years older, even though it seems as if we left Earth only yesterday. The flight out here takes seven years, with Cryogenic Suspension and Light Hyper Drive we don’t age…

“The sergeant looks thirty, maybe thirty-five. He’s actually eighty years old. I look, what? Twenty-five? I’m biologically fifty-seven. Space travel’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Holy shit!” Realisation dawned on Flash. “You mean I’ve lost seven years?”

“Not exactly,” grinned Nick, hearing the incredulity in Flash’s voice. “Think of it as a sort of time travel, taken in seven-year leaps. By the time we get home, everyone we know will look seventeen years older once we’ve completed our three-year tour. Us? Won’t have aged a day. One of the side effects of Cryogenic Suspension is exactly that, the aging process slows down for at least a year and a half after you wake up, sometimes longer. Keep travelling in space and you could live forever.”

“Fuck a duck!” breathed Flash.

“Thought you’d like that,” said Nick. “Dinks was right about one thing though Flash, with your ginger hair you’re going to look really sweet in pink!”

“Fuck you!” Flash spat and got up.

Nick grinned as he heard Flash imparting the latest revelation to the rest of the grunts.

*

The half-track transporter thundered on raising clouds of pink dust through the arid desert land. Behind, two other transporters rumbled, equally as hot and airless, a precursor to conditions at the approaching barracks.

“Okay, ladies,” Dinks’s voice bellowed above the throbbing engines as he stood at the front of the vehicle facing the main cabin. “Pull up your socks and grab your cocks. We arrive at base in about ten minutes. Keep your ears and eyes open and your mouths shut. Follow orders and we’ll get you stowed away in double quick time.”

The three half-tracks rumbled through the massive steel gates of Base Seven Two Four, New London, Nova Ventura, whirling to a halt in the middle of a hard-packed earth parade ground. Dust, thick and cloying, filled the air. The silence was blessed as the engines shut down. Seconds later, the rear ramps dropped and ninety new recruits and associated sergeants of the Eighty-Seventh Rangers, New Colonies Aggregate disembarked and got their first view of their new home for the next three years.

The compound was huge, lined on three sides by black-painted Nissan huts, set inside a heavy mesh electrified fence seated on a three-foot-high wall of solid reinforced concrete. In the middle of the compound rose a vast earthen mound, fifteen feet high, surmounted by an ugly concrete building, heavily fortified. Gun towers squatted at intervals along the grey, concrete walls; laser cannon muzzles glinted in the shimmering light of Nova Ventura’s twin suns. At the base of the mound were more concrete buildings, also heavily armed, with smaller ordinance, proton machine guns and laser scythes.

“Holy crap!” Norbreck stared at the huge construction in the centre of the compound. “They expect an invasion, or what?”

“Careful what you wish for, soldier!” Drinkwater’s voice snapped behind Norbreck, startling him. “Get your arse in line with the other recruits. I’m hot, dirty, and tired and you’re keeping me from my shower time! Move!”

*

The brief induction made out in the blistering twin suns of Nova Ventura was thankfully … brief. Nick Dale found himself sharing a Nissan hut with nine other grunts, among them Flash, Norbreck, and Billings. Sergeant Drinkwater was assigned to the private room adjoining the hut.

“I gotta get out of this uniform and get into fatigues,” complained Flash. “I feel like I’m melting.”

“Better get used to it,” Nick advised. “We’re approaching July; it gets even more like a furnace.”

“I still don’t get it.” Flash dumped his pack onto the narrow bunk and began pulling out clothes. “Why are we here? I haven’t seen a single sign of any hostilities, yet all they went on about at Boot Camp back on Earth was how dangerous this assignment was going to be.”

“That’s because we’re nowhere near the ‘front,’” Billings said, shaking the creases out of his light blue fatigues. “Who knows what the hell’s happening out there?”

“Out there? And where the fuck is ‘out there’?’” Flash asked.

“About twenty clicks north of here,” Sergeant Drinkwater said from the doorway. “And as for fighting? You grunts are reserves, and you wanna be thankful it stays that way.”

“Why’s that, Sarge?” Nick asked.

Drinkwater regarded Nick with hard, dark eyes for a few brief seconds Nick felt as if his deepest thoughts were known to the taciturn sergeant.

“We got a front line,” Drinkwater said in a low voice. “Trooper goes down; a reserve is racked up to fill the gap.”

“So what happens when the trooper recovers?” asked Taggart, stationed in the bunk next to Nick’s. “He goes back?”

“You’re not listenin’.” Drinkwater’s voice was flat and empty. “A trooper goes down in this war, he don’t get up. Now get your gear stowed, chow’s up in thirty.”

*

“He was kidding, right?” Flash said as they made their way across the compound to the mess hall.

“Of course he was,” Nick said. “Dink’s a joker, likes to wind people up, especially those sucker enough to fall for it.”

“He’s got a fucked-up sense of humour if you ask me,” Flash said. “An’ he’s wasting his time with me. I’m no sucker.”

“Absolutely.” Nick grinned.

The mess hall was a hubbub of noisy activity, mixed voices, the clatter of cutlery, clash of plates and cups on Formica tabletops, the scrape of chairs on the light grey linoleum. And then there was the thankful bliss of the air conditioning.

“Man, that smells great!” Norbreck said as they made their way towards the food counter. He was glancing at plates as they passed occupied tables. “Looks good, too.”

“So do they,” Flash said. “Two o’clock guys.”

All eyes turned to the right and rested on a group of uniformed women seated at a table near the far wall.

“They’re all over,” Billings said, nodding towards another table to their left.

Closer observation revealed that there were women at several of the tables, young, uniformed, and, for the most part, good-looking.

“Now I’d say the attraction of the base just went up about two hundred per cent.” Flash grinned.

Picking up a stainless-steel tray each they walked slowly along the food counter eyeing up what was on offer. Norbreck’s nose had been right. The food smelled delicious: steaks, chicken, cold meats, eggs, salads, and vegetables.

“Whoa! The rations weren’t this good back home,” said Billings, selecting steak, mashed potato, and gravy.

Nick had some chicken and salad. Picking up a carton of cold milk from the drinks station, he turned to follow the others to a table when suddenly there was someone in front of him. Unable to stop, they collided, Nick’s tray flew from his hands and clattered noisily to the floor amidst the mocking jeers of the assembled soldiers. Food was scattered everywhere.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” The girl sounded mortified.

“No, my fault, I wasn’t looking…”

The words died in Nick’s throat as he looked into the startling violet eyes of the fair-haired girl in front of him. In that brief second, he took in her flawless, lightly tanned skin, the soft mouth with just a touch of pale pink lipstick, and the horrified eyes that softened into a warm, if hesitant smile.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice was like velvet.

“Oh, what? Yes, yes, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you?” stuttered Nick.

“I’m fine, though I’m not used to showering in cold milk,” she grinned and stuck out her hand. “Penny Warden.”

All Nick could do was stare at the darkening stain spreading over her pert breasts and down her flat stomach, turning her light blue fatigues dark.

“Hello?” She looked inquiringly at Nick.

“Sorry, Nick, Nick Dale.” Feeling clumsy, Nick took her hand briefly.

“Nice to meet you Nick, Nick Dale, just got in?”

“Yeah, couple of hours ago. Look, I’m sorry, you’re soaked…”

“No problem, no real damage done, though the same can’t be said for your dinner.”

“What? Oh shit!”

Nick dropped to one knee and began scooping up food onto the metal tray. The girl, Penny, knelt beside him, lending a helping hand.

“You don’t need to do that…” protested Nick.

“It’s okay,” she said, dumping bits of chicken onto the tray.

Having cleaned up the mess as best they could, Nick dumped the ruined food into the garbage.

“I need to go change,” Penny said. “You’d better get yourself some more dinner and join your friends; they seem a little concerned about your situation.”

Nick glanced over to where Flash and the others were elbowing each other and pointing at him with big grins on their faces.

“It was nice meeting you Nick, Nick Dale. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, she was gone.

*

“They’re blue,” Flash said, holding up a pair of fatigue trousers.

Nick looked at him and shook his head despairingly. They had been ordered to the supply depot to take possession of their new uniforms and basic equipment.

“Flash, sometimes you make me want to cry,” Nick said.

“What?”

“How long we been on base?” Nick asked.

“You know how long, four days,” Flash answered.

“Exactly,” agreed Nick. “And with all the personnel you’ve seen, have you seen a single pink uniform?”

The expression creeping over Flash’s face was a picture, especially with Billings and Norbreck sniggering in the background.

“I knew that,” he said lamely.

“’Course you did,” Nick said, grinning. He gathered his gear into his arms and headed back to the barracks. Flash and the others followed.

Nick would never get used to the sudden blast of heat every time he exited from the air-conditioned buildings. A couple of times, when he had not been quite prepared, the fierce temperature had momentarily taken his breath away. Immediately, a fine sheen of perspiration coated his bare arms, making the fine hairs itch, but at least his sunglasses saved his eyes from the glare.

“D’you think we’ll ever get to see some action?” Norbreck asked, falling in step beside Nick.

“Dinks says it’s a good thing we haven’t been posted out yet,” Nick answered.

“Then what’s the point of us being here?” Flash asked.

“Orders,” Nick said.

“I’ve been asking around. No one seems to have much of an idea what is happening at the front,” continued Norbreck. “Either that or they’re keeping pretty tight-lipped about it. I can’t even find out who the hell the enemy is.”

“I heard it was alien marauders,” Flash offered.

“Alien marauders? Yeah, like that’s gonna be right,” laughed Norbreck.

“Why not?” Flash argued. “If we’re here, why can’t aliens be here, too? Everyone keeps telling me how important this Verdanium stuff is. Who says we have the only dibs?”

“He’s got a point there, man.” Nick winked at Norbreck.

“Did they happen to mention what colour these aliens were, Flash? Pink, maybe?” Norbreck jibed.

“Har de fucking har!” Flash said sourly.

“Well, I for one am getting just a little bored sitting around sweating buckets,” Nick said. “I’m gonna stow this gear and head for the gym. The way I’m eating, I’m gonna be as fat as a pig.”

“It’s the heat,” Norbreck said. “Drains your energy. You need to eat just to walk across this goddamned compound. You want company?”

“You’re welcome to tag along. Good to have a work-out partner.”

*

The base was lax within the confines of the secured perimeter. Time was their own, except for morning reveille and the odd kit inspection. (Two in six days as opposed to one a day at Boot Camp, sometimes two a day, just to try to catch you napping.)

Nick Dale, Bak Gordon, John Norbreck, and Paul Billings spent a lot of time together. Nick enjoyed their company, showing Flash how to reduce the recoil on a proton rifle when they spent time on the firing range, or pushing Norbreck to greater effort pushing weights in the gym. They helped each other, especially after a good night in the Final Shot Bar, the camp’s only licensed ‘recreational’ centre.

The four of them managed to find relief from the continual boredom, and the sweltering days slipped by, and though he kept looking, there was something Nick couldn’t find and he figured he had missed his chance.

Most of the recreational facilities were inside in air-conditioned halls or large Nissan huts, out of the blistering heat of the daylight hours, except for one of the two swimming pools, but even that had the shady protection of a roof. The base boasted two games rooms, a small cinema, common areas, a fully equipped gym, a shooting range, an electronic library, and a twenty-four-hour mess hall.

The mound in the centre of the huge compound was a fortified storage area and last line of defense. It housed the communication centre, arsenal, and operations rooms. It also billeted all the officers. The communication shack was nestled in the shadow of the main mound, easily identified by its bright blue façade.

Lorries arrived at the base, coming from the north where the Verdanium mines were located, though to call them specifically Verdanium mines was incorrect. The lorries, loaded with precious minerals and ores, entered the mound on the east side through huge, steel doors that ran on well-greased rollers powered by large electric motors. No one ever saw the contents of the lorries; though it was common knowledge what they carried. On the west side of the compound was a row of three hangars in which various airplanes and helicopters were parked, alongside the motor pool and fuel dump.

It was oddly sedate, yet Nick felt there was always that hidden air of menace about the compound, as if it held a deep, dark secret and wasn’t telling. Perhaps it was the Rec and Surveillance Centre where camera drones were housed, used to patrol the camp’s extensive perimeter. Strictly authorised personnel only.

To Nick, it smacked a little of 1984. Surveillance was to be expected on a secured army base, but the cameras here seemed to be a tad overkill.

“May I…?”

Nick looked up from his drink and found Sergeant Drinkwater standing beside the table, indicating the empty chair opposite.

“Yeah, sure,” Nick said.

“No amigos tonight?” Drinkwater observed.

“No, just needed a bit of down time,” Nick explained.

Drinkwater hesitated. “Hey, I can leave you be, no problem,” he said.

“No, sit. Can I get you a drink?”

The bar was dimly lit, not many patrons at the bar or in the booths, muzak played softly in the background, some inane tune Nick didn’t recognise. He called for two more beers.

“So, you’re the guy spreading rumours about me?” Drinkwater said once he’d settled on the moulded metal chair.

Nick blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?” He suddenly felt his stomach drop out.

“Don’t try to squirm out of it, Trooper, but if you’re gonna spread rumours at least get the facts right.”

“Sarge, I don’t know…” Nick stammered, beginning to blush.

“Eighty-five,” Drinkwater said.

“What?” Then the penny dropped. “Oh… your age…”

Drinkwater smiled. “Causes a lot of confusion,” he said, taking a sip of beer the barkeep had deposited on the table. “Plays hell with your private life.”

“Sarge, I’m sorry. We were just talking…”

“Chill out, man. Not an issue, but you are. I been watching you.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Me? Why?”

“Because you’re a natural with a head that’s screwed on right.”

“You lost me.”

“You’re a natural leader, man. You got the touch. You learn fast and aren’t slow in passing the knowledge on. Not many rookies pick up on the trick you showed Gordon with the proton rifle, using the thumb to reduce sideways recoil. I know vets that are still piss-poor shots because they don’t handle the rifle right. Gordon, Norbreck, and Billings, they all look up to you.”

“We’re just friends,” Nick said.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Dale. It’s a lot more than that. You got Gordon hanging on your every word,” Drinkwater pointed out.

“Flash doesn’t need me. He’s a good recruit, knows his stuff,” Nick protested.

“He’s a damn fine soldier, and he’ll go places… As long as he’s got someone like you to follow.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Nick asked. “I’m no different from any other enlisted man…”

“You’re wrong there, but that’s not my point,” Drinkwater said, his expression softening. “Whether you admit it or not, those boys look to you for direction, and that’s a good thing, and why I wanna make you into a squad leader, with those three as your squad.”

“I don’t think so,” Nick said. “I just want to do my time and get off this rock in one piece.”

“And out of all the recruits stationed here, my money’s on you to do just that, but you haven’t got a choice. Part of my job is to single out rookies like you, men with potential, and you got it.”

Nick eyed the sergeant. “What you said about troopers at the front going down and not getting up again, you meant it, didn’t you?”

“God’s truth, man.” Drinkwater played with the label on the beer bottle. “But it’s not physical wounds that take them out…”

“What do you mean?” Nick asked.

Drinkwater brushed the question aside.

“And you know who ‘the enemy’ is, don’t you, who we’re fighting?” Nick said intently.

The sergeant still said nothing.

“I guessed as much, should have known really, your fourth tour. That, and the fact that there’s no MASH unit on this base, just a small infirmary, and I haven’t seen one wounded soldier come from the front.”

Drinkwater leaned over the table; Nick could smell his aftershave, faintly spicy.

“And you won’t,” the sergeant said quietly. “It’s a dirty war and an even dirtier enemy, one that attacks you from within, without firing a shot. Once you get to the front, you’ll understand, but you’ll never be able to speak about it. What you do, what you see, you’ll be bound by secrecy, signed, sealed, and delivered. What’s more, you won’t want to talk about it.”

“But … why? Doesn’t it make sense that men would fight better if they knew who and what they were fighting?”

“Not this time,” Drinkwater said. “We need men like you, Nick, quick, observant, willing to go that extra yard. Men like you give other men the chance to survive simply by being close to you.”

“I’m just another ordinary guy,” Nick said, sitting back in his seat.

“No, you’re not. You’re a squad leader now. Get used to the idea.”

Being a squad leader carried no rank, just an insignia that Nick found lying on his bunk the following morning after he had returned from the showers. There were four sets, two for his uniforms and two for his fatigues; reluctantly, he shook his head as he looked at the badges, a triangle of blue cloth simply depicting the number one in red embroidery.

“Damn,” he said quietly.

*

Did Drinkwater know? Somehow Nick had a sneaking suspicion that the grizzled sergeant had foreknowledge, even as Nick stood before the posting board in the main hall staring at the four names from Hut 6. Dale, Gordon, Norbreck, and Billings, they were all listed, First Squad, due to be shipped out to the front in twenty-four hours. It looked like Flash was finally going to get his wish, action at last. Nick didn’t share his friend’s enthusiasm.

*

The hangar was fairly crowded.

The low drone of muted voices filled the building, amplified by the high metallic ceiling, the main subject of conversation being speculation about conditions at the front. There were quite a few rumours, Flash’s alien marauders being the most prevalent. There were more rookies going to the front than Nick had anticipated. A cursory count made forty; he didn’t care for the implications of that. Gordon, Norbreck, and Billings had taken his being squad leader in their stride. Just as Drinkwater had suggested, they already saw him in that role. Also, as predicted, Flash was eager to get going, looking around the hangar like a kid about to go on a school outing.

“Hey, Nick, Nick Dale.”

Nick’s heart leapt when he heard her voice behind him. He turned.

“Hey yourself Penny. How you doing?” He hoped he sounded casual enough.

“I’m good,” she smiled, glancing at his shoulder flash. “I see you made squad leader.”

“Not my idea,” he said.

“Makes sense though,” Penny said.

Nick looked at Norbreck, who had coughed. All three of his friends were looking expectantly at Nick and then at Penny.

“Oh right, Penny Warden, John Norbreck, Flash Gordon, and Paul Billings, First Squad.”

“Hey Pen,” Flash said. “You going to the front, too?”

“Absolutely,” she returned.

“Who’re you with?” Billings asked.

“Number Two, Third Squad.”

“Who’s your lead?”

“Lederer, you know him?”

Nick shook his head. “Seen him around…” There was a slight tone to his voice.

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a dick, but knows his stuff,” Pen confirmed the unspoken observation.

Penny looked good in the dark blue Ranger’s uniform. Her hair was tied up out of the way, and she had little make-up on, (regulations), but then Nick figured she would look good in sackcloth and ashes, and no, he thought to himself, that’s not because I’m biased…

“Well, at least the scenery’s looking better this time round,” came a familiar voice.

Penny turned as Sergeant Drinkwater joined the small group.

“Dinks! You going on this trip too?” she enthused.

“Someone’s gotta keep these rookies in order,” he gave a grizzled smile as he half-hugged the girl.

“You know each other?” Nick asked, a little surprised.

“Dinks is an old friend of my father’s. They served together during the Mars Conflicts,” Penny explained.

“A picnic…” Drinkwater said.

“Yeah, so my dad says.” Penny smiled. “He lies too.”

Drinkwater laughed.

“So what are we in for, Sarge?” Flash asked. “Is it alien marauders?”

“Soldier, in this war, we’re the alien marauders,” Drinkwater replied.

Flash looked puzzled as Drinkwater indicated to Nick he wanted to talk. They moved away from the group.

“You okay?”

Nick nodded. “Apprehensive, none of this is what I expected, or that so many of us would be going to the front together.”

“Shit happens, rotation means new troops so the vets can stand down and go on furlough,” Drinkwater said. “I’ve had you assigned to my unit, along with the second and third squads. Let your boys know that when we get to the firebase, there’ll be an induction briefing, most of it will be made clear then. You’ll also be issued new uniforms and weapons, nothing fancy, but it will be new to you.”

“Why the head’s up?” Nick asked.

“Because…” Drinkwater answered.

Nick let it go at that as they returned to the group.

“Glad to see you’re not the only girl going with us,” Nick said, spying several other women standing about in the other groups.

“Don’t get all sexist on me, Nick, Nick. Next thing, you’ll be opening doors for me or offering to carry my pack,” Penny laughed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered. “I know when I’m outgunned.”

“Ya think?”

Nick hesitantly touched her cheek and was glad when Penny didn’t protest or pull away.

“You just be careful,” he said quietly.

“Aim too,” Penny replied. “Same goes for you.”

“Warden! Get your gear!” yelled a voice.

A young, dark-haired trooper approximately the size of a Volvo truck glared at Nick and then at Penny. “Move it, soldier!”

“Gotta go.” Penny raised her eyebrows. “See you on the other side.”

“What’s his problem?” Flash asked.

“Lederer,” Nick answered.

“Doesn’t seem to like you much,” Norbreck observed. “Wonder why that might be?”

“I got a good idea,” Drinkwater said. “And if any of you get any funny notions, and cause any unnecessary pain,” he looked straight at Nick, “be sure I’ll cut your dick off and make you eat it.”

*

Over a week of inactivity was suddenly replaced with frenetic action. Gear was loaded onto Chinook Jetcopters, orders were yelled, orderly groups were formed and double-timed out to the waiting aircraft, where they swiftly clambered on board and took their places.

Seconds later, the three Chinooks were in the air and the base dropped away and was quickly lost to sight.

The flight was noisy but brief. Thirty minutes later, Nick got his first look at the front. Only it wasn’t a front, it was a wall. A huge, white shining wall closing off the wide mouth of a long valley, almost a mile across, filled with what looked like ruined buildings. On the plain outside the wall was a series of glittering pink dunes interspersed with clumps of shattered buildings, mere shells standing out starkly against the weird landscape.

As the Chinooks circled on their final approach, a heavy-duty mesh fence was visible running along the lip of the cliffs on either side of the valley, disappearing into the distance. At various points, a clump of machinery squatted on the inside of the fence with cables attached to massive copper terminals.

Swiftly the Jetcopters dropped out of the sky, landing at designated helipads, throwing up clouds of swirling pink dust. Shouted orders had the troops disembark and form ranks. Within the valley, there was little wind and the temperature soared.

“Shit! This place is a furnace,” Flash muttered through clenched teeth; sweat poured down his face.

Nick craned his neck to see the top of the wall closing off the valley. He was too far away to make out details, but he could see what looked like brightly coloured figures lounging on top of the wall at close, regular intervals, blue and red and white. Above them was some sort of awning providing shade to the brightly uniformed soldiers who didn’t seem to be doing anything in particular, not even standing to attention or on guard. From his low vantage point, Nick couldn’t be sure, but there wasn’t any obvious cover either, as brightly uniformed as they were, the soldiers made perfect targets.

No sounds of weaponry filled the air, no crack of proton rifles, no scream of the laser scythes; it was all eerily quiet. Nor had there been any visible sign of the enemy as they had flown over the firebase. The land outside of the walls had been totally devoid of life. With a shock, Nick realised there hadn’t been any sign of battle either.

What the hell sort of war is this? he thought grimly.