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  Two of the nine-foot giants clanked to Sigmir and set him in a black plastic freezepack that they’d brought. The pack had medkits and other strange devices. Needles stabbed the corpse and then the giants zipped the freezepack shut. The other two spoke with Petor, who pointed out Marten.

  Marten rose from where a few of his storm group waited. They’d hurried over after hearing the news. Marten walked away from them so he wouldn’t implicate his men in case the approaching masters decided he was to blame for Sigmir’s death. Marten stood at attention as the two armored giants clanked to him.

  They were huge, towering, menacing. Twenty-millimeter cannons aimed at him. Dark visored helmets, like techno-demons, watched him impassively. His weapons would be useless against them in their armor. He wondered why the battalion attached to the 4th FEC Army didn’t simply take Tokyo. Mortar tubes and smart missiles were slung on their backs. They seemed invincible.

  The one with a sword emblem on his helmet spoke through amplifiers. “You are Lieutenant Marten Kluge, 2nd Patloon/10th Company/93rd Battalion?”

  “I am.”

  “Report.”

  In short, concise sentences—the way he’d been trained to speak to Highborn—Marten told the two giants what had happened.

  After he was finished, the two giants glanced at each other, their dark visors revealing nothing. Marten felt like a naughty child, and that made him angry. But here, in front of these two, he struggled to suppress his anger.

  “Why didn’t you fire at the enemy?” asked the giant with the sword emblem.

  “They surprised us.”

  “So you threw yourself down?”

  “Yes,” said Marten.

  “An act of cowardice.”

  “No,” said Marten. “It was one of survival.”

  “You will not raise your voice to us.”

  Marten hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Cowardice,” repeated the giant.

  “Perhaps even retreat in face of the enemy,” suggested the other.

  “Which is punishable by death,” said the first.

  Marten looked up. The two armored giants decided his fate. His only weapon was his wits. “May I speak?” he asked.

  The dark visors stared at him.

  “Speak,” said the first, the one with the sword emblem on his helmet.

  “Captain Sigmir shot and killed both Kamikazes. It was due to his misfortune of having taken off his helmet and gorget that he died. I reacted instinctively. And I might add that my storm group had just taken an enemy bunker.”

  “That is immaterial.”

  “You’ll find that my storm group is the most decorated in the 4th FEC Army.”

  “Meaningless.”

  “Surely not,” Marten argued. “You Highborn are said to honor valor. If my unit is the most valorous, then surely I, as its leader, must be also.”

  The two giants considered that. Then the first one said, “If what you say is true, your act of… I will not say cowardice. Rather, cunning, is deplorable.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Marten.

  “You dropped to the ground in the hopes that your Lot Six commander would be killed.”

  “I’ve been in battle too long to think that,” Marten said, his stomach knotting at their implacable will. “In fact, I’ve never heard of two Japanese killing a Highborn.”

  “Say rather: a Lot Six specimen.”

  “Captain Sigmir isn’t a Highborn?” asked Marten.

  The two nine foot giants said nothing. Finally, the first one’s amplifier crackled. “We are superiors.”

  “Why explain anything to him?” asked the second.

  “So he understands his insolence and why he must die.”

  “Does my battle record mean so little?” asked Marten, sweat oozing out of his armpits. “Is there no way that I might gain honor among you?”

  Again, they were silent, as if he spoke nonsense and they tried to decipher his possible meanings.

  “Show us your hand,” said the first.

  Marten shucked off his gauntlet and showed them the number two tattooed onto the back of his hand.

  “He has risen above himself,” said the second.

  “So it seems,” said the first. “Preman—” The giant suddenly tilted his armored head, no doubt listening to an incoming radio message. A few seconds later he said, “Your Lot Six Captain will deal with you upon his return.”

  As easy as that, they granted him life. Marten’s knees almost buckled, but he locked them and refused to kneel before them.

  They turned and clanked to the other two Highborn. Together the Highborn bounded away with Sigmir, their twenty-millimeter cannons barking at an unseen enemy as they leaped toward the rear lines.

  Omi strode to Marten, who felt limp, drained, surprised to be alive.

  The tough Korean studied him closely.

  “I didn’t understand half of what they were saying,” Marten explained. “But I understood they look at me as if I’m subhuman. And you know what?”

  The ex-gunman grunted.

  “I’m beginning to take that personally.”

  11.

  They learned that one of the new and improved features of Highborn was a gland that squirted Suspend into the brain at the moment of death. Thus, drugs had frozen Sigmir’s brain when he died. No damage had been done because of his lack of oxygen. At least so went the theory.

  Three nights later, the Slumlords huddled in an underground garage, sitting on chunks of concrete as they cooked their suppers. Suddenly the talking stopped. Man after man looked up, amazed and fearful at what he saw.

  Dressed in gleaming new combat armor, Sigmir strode among them. A fresh scar showed where the shrapnel had torn out his throat. He moved with purpose and force. His eyes glittered more darkly than ever and the corner of his mouth twitched as if he considered a joke that only he knew. There seemed to be a new grimness about him, a feeling that a dead man had joined them. Some of the storm troopers shivered as he marched past, a few crossed themselves with a long-forbidden religious gesture.

  Captain Sigmir strode to where Marten sat.

  Upon seeing the newly resurrected captain, Marten stared for only a moment. Then he jumped to attention and saluted smartly. “Glad to have you back, sir,” Marten said, who kept the quaver and more than a bit of hatred out of his voice.

  Sigmir peered at him, the odd twitch never leaving the corner of his mouth. Finally, after an uncomfortable length of time, Sigmir whispered hoarsely, “Prepare for a dawn assault, Lieutenant.”

  “Sir?”

  “I will be the first into the merculite missile battery.”

  “…Yes, sir.”

  Sigmir examined those who stared at him in shock and fear. “Do any here doubt me?”

  No one spoke.

  “Nothing will stop me,” wheezed Sigmir. “Not death, not the enemy, not the lack of guts in my men.” Once more, he examined them. Then he turned and strode to where the Colonel conferred with the other Lot Six captains.

  “He’s a vampire,” whispered Turbo.

  “I don’t know about that,” said Stick, who had yet to touch his food. “But he don’t die.”

  “He’s going to kill us,” Omi said moodily.

  “Why do you think that?” asked Marten.

  “I’ve seen that look before. He’s mad, stark raving nuts. And if he has to kill us all to get what he wants then he’s going to do it.”

  “We’ll see,” said Marten.

  12.

  8 May 2350

  The Pre-Operation Togo military conference: 10.26 A.M.

  Participants: Enkov, Hawthorne, Shell (Commander, Orbital Sector), Kitamura (Field Marshal, Japan Sector), Ulrich (Air Marshal, Strategic Command East), O’Connor (Admiral, Pacific Fleet), Green (Colonel-General, Replacement Army East).

  Enkov: Commander Shell, please report upon the situation.

  Shell: Delicate, Lord Director, but theoretically promising. According to our
best information, two Doom Stars and other ancillary spacecraft still hold their station in Mars orbit. A Doom Star guards Venus, one has gone to refit at the Mercury construction yard and one is unaccounted for. We suspect but have not yet located the Doom Star in Earth or in the Moon’s orbit. Concerning enemy Near-Earth Orbital deployment, three laser stations continue to search and destroy targets of opportunity, as do two of their missile stations. Three Highborn orbital fighter platforms are dedicated to the present Japanese campaign and are in stationary orbit here, here and here.

  Hawthorne: Adherence to our space strategy of scattering and therefore maintaining what is left of our deep-space vessels has forced the Highborn to garrison each of their planets with a Doom Star.

  Enkov: That is an imprecise statement, General Hawthorne. They control the near orbit of each of the said planets, but not the planets themselves.

  Hawthorne: Yes, Lord Director, I stand corrected.

  Shell: The Highborn deploy superior electronic countermeasure and detection equipment, Lord Director. But in their wisdom, Space Command long ago placed emergency pods in Earth orbit for just this situation. These pods have been carefully maneuvered into position and are timed to detonate at the commencement of Operation Togo.

  Enkov: Which stations in particular have you targeted?

  Shell: Two of the three dedicated Highborn orbital fighter platforms and this laser platform.

  Enkov: What about the others?

  Shell: I have saved the best for last, Lord Director. Breakthrough beam technology and ‘total’ construction efforts have given us proton beam stations in seven cities. The proton beams are an order of magnitude greater in power and destructiveness, Lord Director. I assure you, the Highborn have never faced anything like these.

  Enkov: Our previous beam sites drained the power grid. If these are more powerful, how have you solved the problem?

  Shell: The proton beam is charged directly from a deep-core mine, Lord Director. All other city functions are taken offline or run with emergency systems. The proton beams have full and complete use of the deep mine. Therefore, lack of power is no longer a problem. These beams, they will be a terrible surprise for the Highborn. For the coming operation, these East Asian stations will target the remaining orbital platforms and—

  Enkov: You’re ready?

  Shell: Yes, Lord Director, but I would like to point out that—

  Enkov: Thank you, Commander. Orbital Space Command has done their duty. Air Marshal Ulrich, please make your report.

  Ulrich: Lord Director, in the Northern Chinese airfields we have reached seventy-nine percent of the projected strength levels. As mandated, the majority of these combat units are medium and long-range bomber formations. Korea holds the bulk of Fighter Command and is at sixty-three percent of projected strength levels. Long range Trotsky Bombers wait in the Siberian airfields at ninety-one percent operational strength. In another week, we could raise all those percentages near maximum.

  Enkov: Four weeks was my original timeframe for the counterattack, Air Marshal. In two days, Operation Togo will commence with the units you already have in place.

  Ulrich: Understood, Lord Director. But—

  Enkov: Thank you, Air Marshal. Field Marshal Kitamura, please make your report.

  Kitamura: The love of the Japanese people for their Director spurs them to deeds of unparalleled heroism, Lord Director. Tokyo holds. Kobi fell only yesterday, but after bitter fighting. Unfortunately, in the north the battle-lines have neared the beleaguered capital. Yet we have found the key to victory, Lord Director. While our army units, guard divisions, in particular, hold the gates, the people train underground in the cities. Thus, we launch endless assaults with the Kamikaze squads, maintaining our trained troops for—

  Enkov: The Samurai Divisions?

  Kitamura: Yes, Lord Director. They are the guard divisions, the heart of Japanese defense. They have been carefully maintained and they will go over onto the assault for Operation Togo.

  Enkov: Tokyo has also held because the enemy’s supply lines have been relentlessly disrupted.

  Kitamura: The people of Japan agree with you, Lord Director. Your precision nuclear strikes have defeated the mongrel forces of darkness.

  Enkov: No, no, not defeated, Field Marshal. We must never overstate. But the nuclear strikes have given us the time to marshal our forces for the supreme blow. It seems, General Hawthorne, that you were wrong concerning Highborn reaction to our nuclear retaliation.

  Hawthorne: Frankly, Director—excuse me, Lord Director—I’m amazed at the Highborn’s restraint.

  Enkov: Not restraint, General. Fear. They evidence the fear of those who have overstepped themselves and now see their dilemma.

  Hawthorne: But that’s just it, Lord Director. If they were afraid, wouldn’t they resort to nuclear retaliation on a massive scale?

  Enkov: It always amazes me when my generals don’t understand the politics of nuclear weapons. The Highborn didn’t first use nuclear weapons in Tokyo because they feared, General Hawthorne, but out of arrogance, which is a form of confidence. Misplaced as that confidence has proved to be. Then they were shocked to discover that Social Unity has not lost its confidence—at no thanks to my generals and their timidity. Yet I don’t hold that against you, gentleman. As I said, nuclear weapons are political tools, needing political courage to use. Our nuclear strikes against their sea lines have had a devastating effect. Tokyo holds, where every other city has fallen after less than a three-day assault. For over four weeks, Field Marshal Kitamura has held the Highborn at bay, often taking back lost parts of the city, although now they retreat again. Kobi only fell after a prolonged siege and gave the Highborn savage losses. True, in the north their panzer divisions have wreaked havoc. But that’s why Operation Togo will begin in two days. Colonel-General Green, is the Replacement Army ready?

  Green: The Siberian, Korean and Northern Chinese ports brim with transports and troops, Lord Director. The numbers are eighty percent of anticipated levels, but only fifty-nine percent of hoped for transports.

  O’Connor: We’ve scraped together everything we could, sir.

  Green: No disrepute was meant upon the Navy, Admiral. Those damnable orbital laser stations of theirs keep knocking out the transports.

  Enkov: Only fifty-nine percent?

  O’Connor: River and canal coasters have been reassigned, Lord Director. In another nine days—

  Enkov: No, no, two days. Two days!

  O’Connor: In two days perhaps seventy percent could be cobbled together to—

  Enkov: I’m disappointed to hear you speak like this, Admiral.

  O’Connor: The Highborn strike hard from sea and space, Lord Director. I’m not certain—

  Enkov: Admiral O’Connor, defeatist talk is not what I anticipated at this conference, not before the beginning of Operation Togo and the start of the end for the Highborn.

  O’Connor: I will do my best, Lord Director.

  Enkov: Who said anything about best? You will comply with Social Unity’s requirements or I will find someone who can. You must employ ‘total’ effort.

  O’Connor: The Navy stands ready to do its duty, Lord Director.

  Enkov: Very good, Admiral. See to it that these are simply not false words given under duress.

  Hawthorne: Lord Director, I hold to your principles concerning—

  Enkov: The principles of Social Unity, you mean.

  Hawthorne: Yes, Lord Director. Your serenity during these terrible days has given us strength and vision. But may I be permitted a possible conjecture concerning the Highborn?

  Enkov: I called the conference for the interplay of ideas, General. Please, speak freely.

  Hawthorne: My reports indicate that very few Highborn have landed in Japan.

  Enkov: Three hundred thousand is a few?

  Hawthorne: Their ability to raise Earth units and train them to fighting competency is astounding, Lord Director. The bulk of their invasion army is composed
of former Social Unity personnel. Surprising, as it is to report, Lord Director, there are only a few Highborn units on Japan.

  Enkov: Your report must be mistaken.

  Hawthorne: Body counts of enemy dead indicate—

  Enkov: Naturally, when Highborn die in battle their High Command has taken every effort to snatch those fallen bodies and hide the fact of their losses from us. The rebel Earth units—nobody loves traitors, not even those who employ them. So of course, the arrogant Highborn does not attempt to save the corpses of those they refer to as premen, not even their own premen. Field Marshal, don’t your men make every effort to drag their dead comrades off the battlefield?

  Kitamura: Those in the Samurai Divisions especially do so, Lord Director, in order to cremate them and give the ashes of these heroes to their wives and children.

  Enkov: There you are, General Hawthorne. I’m sure the Highborn believe we have no Samurai Divisions, at least if they allowed themselves the sort of conclusions you’ve drawn from their collected dead.

  Hawthorne: One wonders if there might not be another conclusion, Lord Director.

  Enkov: By all means, General Hawthorne, tell us this possibility.

  Hawthorne: Lord Director, the lack of nuclear retaliation and the lack of overpowering Highborn formations within Japan leads me to a frightening conclusion.

  Enkov: Fear must be conquered, General. It amazes me the lack of real courage I find in my military men. No, not the men, but in the officers, in the generals, admirals and air marshals. Nine weeks you originally told me—Nine weeks to build up the force to face these ogres we call Highborn. Many of the directors took their cue from you gentlemen. No! Courage, starting with political courage, with will, gentlemen, the will to face the enemy head on by any means necessary. I’ve given that tool to Social Unity. Those directors who lacked this quality have given way to those of us who don’t. Courage to use nuclear weapons. The will to attack faster than they expected us. Operation Togo must and will catch them flatfooted. Then we will hammer them remorselessly. Every plane, every ship, every trained soldier will be thrown at these mongrel ingrates of the scientists and their biological theories run amok.