Paving the Way

Report to General Chase at the U. S. Field Headquarters, the display said. Ellen assumed that meant the simulation was over, and started to relax...

... and then stiffened reflexively as the interior of a tent swam into view instead. In front of her was a tall, square-jawed man in a long, heavy coat, his pale hair trimmed to painfully precise shortness. There were four stars on each of his shoulders, and a similar set of four on the standing ridge of his collar. The display identified him as General Constantine Chase. "Damn fine work you did taking out those guns, soldier," he said. "Damn fine!"

Ellen gulped (she hadn't expected to have to continue) and nodded. The general didn't seem to notice. "Unfortunately, while you were up there climbing mountains, we were down here getting our butts kicked," he said. "The Chinese decided to use our Field HQ for target practice and damn near blew us all to pieces. We lost some good men, including my strike team commander, Colonel Patterson."

The general looked at Ellen expectantly. Hesitantly, she answered, "Anything I can do to help, sir?"

"I didn't call you down here for a pep talk and cigars. You've earned yourself a field promotion, soldier." A near-smile flickered on his face. "As of this moment you're taking over Patterson's strike team. And before you thank me, you better wait and see what your mission entails."

That couldn't mean anything good, but Ellen couldn't figure out how to get the simulation to stop, so she just said, "Yes, sir?"

"There are three hardened targets that stand between us and the Chinese HQ," said the general. "That's where your strike team comes in. Follow me over to the situation map and I'll bring you up to speed."

He turned without a further word and stalked over to a table easily larger than any bed Ellen had ever seen or slept in. The surface was black glass. It lit up from within at Chase's touch, flickering into the single largest computer display she'd ever seen- a map much like the one on her Pip-Boy, but in far greater detail. As she stared, the general said, "Okay. Pay attention, soldier. I'm only going to go through this once."

Ellen's stomach sank rapidly as the general began pointing out locations- the new field HQ, a depot full of Chimera tanks, an ice camp full of Chinese soldiers, a mining town that'd been overrun and backed up with a listening post. The general very clearly expected her to wipe them all out- and then to take down something he called a 'pulse field', which apparently offered instant death or close to it if she tried to go anywhere near it without eliminating the other targets first. This is crazy! she wanted to say. There has to be a way to end this simulation! But before she could draw breath to speak, the general added, "Lieutenant Morgan will be your eyes and ears for Operation Anchorage, so get everything else you need from him."

Okay, maybe she could talk her way out of the sim by speaking to this Morgan-

"Uncle Sam's invested a lot of money turning you into a killing machine," said the general. "Time to pay him back. Dismissed!"

With that he turned away, and Ellen swallowed. The cold she was feeling now had nothing to do with the simulated wind.

---

She stepped out into the HQ grounds, blinking unhappily in the light. Morgan (a dark-skinned man in white armor and wire-rimmed glasses) had filled her in on absolutely everything except how to end the simulation. She had a data chit for the quartermaster, a list of positions to be filled in her squad, and a horrible feeling that she was in entirely too far over her head. The tents full of soldiers in varying degrees of white armor did absolutely nothing to quell that sensation. About the only thing even remotely reassuring about the whole snow-bound scene was Sergeant Montgomery's presence.

As the three soldiers (one infantryman, one grenadier, and one sniper- it had seemed a reasonable roster from Morgan's reports) materialized around him, Montgomery cleared his throat. "Looks like we're working together again, sir," he said. "General Chase assigned me to the strike team. And thanks to your promotion, I guess I'll be saluting you from now on."

There has to be a way to end this! she thought frantically- but she couldn't bring herself to say it with the way Montgomery was looking at her. "That's... not necessary, honestly," she managed instead.

Montgomery snorted. "Hell, saluting is the least I can do," he said. "Do you have any idea how many of our guys you saved by taking out those guns?"

"I couldn't've done it without you," she answered. It was true- Ellen knew perfectly well that she'd've been cut down ten times over if she'd tried to run that whole gauntlet without Montgomery's help. Virtual or not.

"Enh, I was just mopping up the edges. You're the one who infiltrated the Commie-infested base and came out of a suicide mission on top," said Montgomery. "With a role model like you, our boys are gonna turn into killing machines!"

She nearly squeaked in horror at the thought. "I just want to see this thing through to the end," she said. "I'm not trying to be anybody's role model."

Montgomery glanced sideways a moment, then stepped in a little closer. "Look," he said quietly. "We all just want to get through this. None of us asked to be here. We all left things behind when this shit started. Some of the guys out here are falling apart. We need troopers like you to keep them focused- make them think they're going to get home one day."

Ellen knew- she knew- that she was speaking to a digital phantom of a man dead for centuries, if he had ever existed at all. None of this was even the slightest bit real... and yet, and yet...

"Yeah," she said, drawing the deepest breath the searing cold of the air would let her manage. "Sorry, Montgomery."

A grin split his face. "That's the spirit, buddy!" he said, raising his voice. "Now. On to bigger and better things, huh?"

"You bet," Ellen said. "How do things stand with the strike team?"

"Everyone's ready to go kick some Commie ass... sir," His expression settled into more sober lines. "What are your orders?"

Ellen still had to get her weapons from the quartermaster, but she'd gone over the map inside the tent enough to have an idea of what had to be done. "Wait for me near the Chinese ice camp outside the Chimera depot," she said. "I'll be joining you shortly."

"Yes, sir!" said Montgomery, saluting. "We're on our way."

She watched him and the other three soldiers jog off, and wondered what she was getting herself into.

Operation: Anchorage

The world shimmered again, Montgomery's salute streaking away to black and white as the by-now familiar sensation of being teleported seized Ellen's nerves. When her vision cleared, she was standing in the command tent yet again. She made her way over to the briefing table as she tried to shake off a vague, residual nausea. Circled stars studded the map now- three of them along the ridge where the artillery guns had been, one at the ice camp, one at the Chimera tank depot, one at the mining town, and one at the listening post where she'd just been. That was... virtually everything, wasn't it? What was left?"

"That pulse field's not going to down itself," growled the general's voice from over her shoulder. "You've got a job to do, soldier. Get out there and do it!"

Oh. Right.

Well, at least the end was near...

---

"Sergeant," Ellen said very carefully, trying not to let the whipping wind water her eyes, "where, exactly, is the rest of the strike team?"

"Ordered elsewhere, sir," said Montgomery. "They're not trained for trench warfare. It's just you and me now. Let's go take down the pulse field!"

I'm not trained for trench warfare! Ellen mentally wailed, but Montgomery was already on his way. She tried not to hunch her shoulders, and set out after him.

---

"I thought we took OUT the Chinese artillery already!" Ellen screamed as thunderous explosions scattered snow and dirt overhead. The trench walls on either side held, a small mercy at best when one couldn't see for all the backblast.

"These aren't shells!" Montgomery called back. "The Commies have guys in here with missile launchers and they like to use 'em to target the next trench over if they can."

"Missile launchers? In spaces this close?"

"Yep!" said Montgomery. Another explosion filled the air with smoke.

"Oh, that's just prime!"

---

Ellen staggered into an alcove that had flashed red light at her and clapped both hands onto the glowing oxygen canister in the corner. It took a moment for her vision to clear and the pain to subside. As she turned, she realized she wasn't alone; a Chinese inferno soldier stood only a pace or two off. She leveled her shotgun at him and watched with only mild dismay as the blast took off his head. When the body dematerialized in a flash of light, she noticed what the flamethrower wielder had been hiding: an American soldier, kneeling with his face to the wall and his hands tied behimd his back.

She stepped forward, intending to untie him, but the instant she set her hand on his shoulder the ropes came apart. "The damn Commies caught me with my pants down," he said, shaking his hands out and standing up. "Thanks for saving my butt. Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

He was off and running before Ellen could respond. "That was so much more than I wanted to know," she murmured to his retreating form.

"That," said Montgomery's voice from just over her shoulder, "makes two of us."

---

There was a fortified pillbox up ahead, stocked with a pair of turrets and a Chinese soldier. The packed snow of the trench floor was positively crawling with little spidery robots the size of frag mines. And Ellen was almost sure she'd seen the shimmer of a Crimson Dragoon's active stealth field perched on the bridge that crossed the trench up ahead.

"You know?" Ellen said to no one in particular. "I'm not even supposed to BE here today."

Not that it made any difference as she and Montgomery opened fire on the spider robots, but she felt a little better, at least.

---

The trenches opened up at last, stairs set into the snow leading up to open snowfields broken only by rows of sandbags and barbed wire. She and Montgomery were no longer alone; American soldiers on both sides were charging up now to give the Chinese in their guard posts royal hell, a fact for which Ellen was immensely grateful. Especially since the newest wave of arriving soldiers wore powered armor. That would've come in handy, she was quite sure.

At least, until one of the armored men darted past the last row of barbed wire and into the wide-open space beyond, at which point arcs of electricity assailed him from all sides. He spasmed, toppled; he dissolved into blue light before he even hit the ground.

"That," Montgomery said somewhat unnecessarily, "is the pulse field. It only goes after electronic tech. See why we're here?"

Ellen gulped, nodded. "Which way do we go?"

The next few minutes were a blur of running and screaming as the last few Chinese sentries saw where Ellen and Montgomery were headed and tried to stop them. There was no cover to be had anywhere; the land beyond the pulse field was barren, empty snow, unreeling for yards and yards until it finally reached the wall of a huge oil refinery. The only refuge left was speed and gunfire, to the point where it took Ellen several minutes to realize that she'd stumbled up the stairs into a place with no Chinese soldiers in it at all.

There was, however, a switch. Ellen blinked stupidly at it, trying to get her head clear. "Is this it?" she asked Montgomery. "Is this what we came for?"

"Sure is, sir," he said. "You do the honors- you've earned it."

Ellen nodded, mashing her fist down on the button hard enough to shatter glass. It was a suitably dramatic gesture, but really, she was more exhausted and frustrated than anything. Hopefully it would-

Great googly moogly, the whole snowfield just lit up with fire. Or lightning, anyway, a discharge so strong she could feel it in her hair and taste it in the suddenly tinny air against her teeth. There was no need to ask this time. If that wasn't the pulse field coming down, what else could it be? Especially since when her vision cleared, she could see power armored soldiers charging across the snowfield like the wrath of God. She wanted to cheer- surely this meant it was over?- but a line scrolled across her vision: Enter the Chinese compound.

Oh, barf. Well, all right. Ellen turned to Montgomery, saluted, and said, "Sergeant, it's been an honor serving with you, but I have to be going now."

"The same here, sir," said Montgomery, returning the salute. "I'll join you soon as I can. I've got to get word back to HQ myself."

Ellen nodded and set off across the field at the best speed she could muster. It wasn't much; the cold was stiffening her legs by now, and there hadn't been an oxygen canister to touch in a while. Still, she kept moving, and by the time she arrived the armored soldiers had blown so many holes in the outer walls of the facility that the Chinese couldn't've kept a Brahmin out. All that remained were the inner doors, the point of scrutiny for four armored figures, each armed with an odd chutelike device she'd never seen before. She put her hand on the door; to her utter lack of surprise, it swung open under her touch.

The scene inside was one of utter chaos, Chinese troops pitted against Americans in close quarter combat everywhere she turned. She didn't catch the tableau at the center of the courtyard- a Chinese man in an officer's uniform, raising his sword to strike down a kneeling American prisoner- until it was too late. As she stepped forward, about to yell some kind of denial, words rolled across her vision again: General Jingwei must be killed.

There had been plenty of Chinese soldiers shouting THAT name in the trenches. If this didn't end the sim, she didn't know what would. Ellen reached for a grenade, but before she could pull the pin, Jingwei saw her. "[You fool!]" he thundered in instantly-translated Chinese. "[You will be crushed by the might of the Chinese army!]"

Ellen turned to one side, watching as Chinese soldiers fell in showers of blue light. The tableau to the other side was much the same. Behind them, the power-armored soldiers kept on coming, without further fear or hesitation...

"You've already lost, General," she said when she turned back to Jingwei. "You've been beaten by a nineteen year old girl. Don't throw away what dignity you've got left."

There was a moment of horrified silence all around.

"[You will never take me prisoner!]" Jingwei suddenly said. Without a moment's further ado, he reversed his grip on the sword, placed the point against his torso, and fell onto the blade with all his strength.

Ellen stared as electricity crackled around Jingwei's body. That hadn't happened with any of the other corpses! She wondered distantly if there were something else she was supposed to do, or if she'd gotten things wrong somehow. Surely...

"That'll do, soldier," said a voice from behind her: General Chase's voice. "Stand down."

Ellen turned immediately, right hand coming up in a salute before she had time to think.

Chase returned the gesture. "With the general's death, our boys can secure this refinery and be on their way to Anchorage proper," he said. "You've helped pave the way for taking the city back from the Reds, soldier. Good work. That'll complete this portion of your training. Report to your superior for debriefing and your next assignment. Dis-missed!"

Oh, God, no, not more sim time, Ellen thought as the world went white again- but the white cracked down the middle and gave way to brown and gray, the pod opening onto the armory at last. "Good job making it through that simulation," said the familiar, real voice of Protector McGraw. "All you have to do now is take that computer of yours and open the armory for us."

She rubbed at her face with both hands, blinking furiously. The transition was too abrupt, for all that she was pretty good at adjusting; the most she could do was nod.

"And, as agreed, you get your share," said McGraw. "Feel free to take whatever you want. If our records are right, there's plenty for all of us."

"Okay," said Ellen weakly, hopping out of the chair. "Show me the way."

McGraw led her down the corridor, past Olin and Sibley and several other armored Outcasts. "Never would've thought a savage could do it," someone muttered; she ignored him. It was all she could do to fit her Pip-boy link into the nearest wall terminal. The gasps of shock that went up as the huge door nearby opened, though, were well worth it- and when she turned to look through the door it was even more worthwhile. Inside, surrounded by computer banks and row after row of shelves, were suits of the same power armor she'd seen in the simulation, preserved against two hundred years of degradation. She walked up to the first one, ran her fingers over it longingly... and then stepped aside. It was promising, yes, but it was built for someone bigger than her by far. Something that huge and heavy would be too difficult to carry around until she could get it fitted to her size. The scoped rifle that lay off to one side on the shelves, now, that was something else. She'd seen it in use; it fired with a thunder like nothing else she'd ever heard. She could handle that. And- was that a sword, there? It looked like...

Dear God, it was! It was the same sword Jingwei had had in the simulation! Someone must have captured it and brought it back here...

As she picked it up, someone outside started shouting "Suppress! Suppress!" It was Olin, the woman in robes. Sibley and his companions had apparently taken it into their heads to start shooting at her and McGraw. Ellen didn't even think about what happened next- didn't need to. Not with someone trying to kill the only people in this place who had been willing to keep her alive or treat her fairly. She checked the new rifle- saw it was loaded, took aim-

BANG.

The bolt tore into Sibley- broad-built, tall, armored Sibley- with such force that the man went over backwards, minigun and all. McGraw turned on him, his own gun blazing. After that it was nothing but a bloodbath, with Outcast fighting Outcast. Ellen didn't dare fire into the melee, for fear of hitting someone she knew, but when the smoke cleared McGraw and Olin were still standing along with a few others. "Thank you for helping," said McGraw after a moment. "Sibley would've gotten the best of me if you weren't here."

"What was that all about?" Ellen said.

McGraw shrugged. "Sibley and his crew didn't want to go through with our deal," he said. "Said he didn't spend all this time and blood getting us here and securing this place just to share the tech we fought for with a Wastelander."

"But I-"

"I know," said McGraw. "Believe me, I know my debts, and I repay them. Is that all you'll be taking?"

Ellen glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of a gleam of gold against blackness on one of the shelves. "Actually," she said, "I'd like to see if something else fits, first."

"Go right ahead."