Operation Crimson Storm by Robert Reginald

Author:Robert Reginald
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: war of the worlds, mars, martians, war, invasion
ISBN: 9781434443564
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2013-08-05T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

ZEPHYR AND BOREAS

Everybody talks about the weather,

but nobody does anything about it.

—Charles Dudley Warner

Alex Smith, 4 Bi-October, Mars Year vii

Beneath Nier Crater, Planet Mars

“There was definitely something there?” General Burgess asked.

“Well, I think so, sir,” the noncom said. “It’s just that it all happened so fast, and we really couldn’t see anything, it was too far away. I couldn’t even tell you which way it was going.”

The officer ran his hand back through his thinning gray hair. He looked ten years older than the day he’d landed at Isis Station. He gazed around at the dozen ad hoc members of the Advisory Council present on our expedition.

“Ideas, anyone?” he asked.

We were gathered in a semi-circle around the commander’s tent at our makeshift campsite. We all glanced at each other and shook our heads.

“Come on, people. We started with enough supplies to last just two weeks down here. We’re already into our fourth day, and we have no more answers than before. The main exit’s blocked, and communications have been cut.”

“We follow the whatever-it-was,” I said.

“But which way?”

“Both ways, sir. We have no choice.”

Everyone began nodding in agreement.

“Damn. I don’t really like the idea of splitting our forces, I really don’t. Lieutenant McGoohan and Lieutenant Kirk, you’ll take your respective companies together with at least one each of the scientists and anyone else you think necessary or appropriate, and you’ll proceed right and left up the corridors. I’ll remain here with the main expedition, while the rest of our crew investigates the machine room. Check in every fifteen minutes, gentlemen.”

In the end, McGoohan picked me and Mayer and, for whatever reason, Reverend Lesley, in addition to the ten members of Company Six, plus Dr. Markus, the exobiologist. We moved out at 0700, heading in what appeared to be a northerly direction. Kirk and his men turned south.

The cross passage had dimensions very similar to those of the main corridor that we’d been traversing, being perhaps slightly smaller in diameter, and lacking the wall mosaics that decorated the other. I could feel a slight breeze blowing against my face; it gave off a fragrance of things growing, the smell of grass and brush and similar kinds of plants. The wind seemed to me gradually to increase as we walked forward, just slightly enough to be noticeable.

We stopped after five miles to rest and have lunch, breaking out the not-so-delicious MREs.

“Anyone want tooty-fruity?” Mayer asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Rogers said.

“That’s what it says.”

“A new low for the Armed Forces of the United States,” I spoke in a deliberately sepulchral voice.

“Anyone notice something different about this tunnel?” Gene Markus asked.

“No girlie pictures?” Mayer said.

“That’s disgusting.” Reverend Lesley made a face.

Mayer stuck his tongue out at her and she grimaced in return. I thought we might have to send both of them to their respective corners.

“No, we haven’t encountered any side-passages,” Markus said.

“You’re right,” I said. “And the air pressure here seems much more insistent.”

“Yeah, and there’s that odor, too,” Mayer said. “Stinks to high heaven, like something died down here.

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