Earth Afire (The First Formic War 2)

"Calinga, get back in your sledge and go deep," said Wit. "Get into launch position again. Mazer and I will melt a hole. If it works, we'll tell you to surge up and soar through. We'll come right after you. Then we ditch your sledge and the nuke as planned."

"Roger that," said Calinga.

"I'll need to extend your stilts and get you into a diving position," said Mazer.

Calinga closed himself in his cockpit. Mazer went to Calinga's sledge, pulled back the side paneling, and punched in the sequence to operate the stilts. It was a multistep process that took a few minutes, but soon all the stilts were out and in place.

"You're set," said Mazer. "But wait until I'm back in my gopher and out of the path of your spew."

Calinga waited for the all-clear then fired up the sledge and dove into the earth. An ejecta of lava spew shot back and hit the underside of the lander. Where it did, the hull sizzled and dripped away.

"Hull's melting," said Mazer. "I'd say your plan's a go, Wit."

"Show me how to set up the stilts on mine," said Wit.

Mazer waited until Calinga's sledge had disappeared back into the earth and the ejecting lava spew had stopped. Then he rushed to Wit's sledge and opened the paneling on the side and walked Wit through the process. Soon the sledge was up on its spider legs, its back end ready to shower the lander with lava.

There was a hint of movement in the darkness. Mazer turned and shined his light. A crowd of twenty to thirty Formics was scurrying toward them. They didn't look armed, but their clawed hands and maws looked ready to rip Mazer and Wit to shreds. "We've got company," said Mazer.

His weapon was in his cockpit. He ran for it. The Formics rushed forward. Mazer had the gun in his hand three seconds later and fired the first shots from where he stood on the side of the sledge. Most of the shots found targets. Formics dropped. Others scattered into the darkness.

"Hold them off," said Wit. "I'll get your sledge into position." He rushed to Mazer's sledge, opened the paneling, and got busy.

Their helmets were made for piloting the sledges. They weren't designed for small-arms skirmishes in near-total darkness. Mazer had no HUD, no targeting help, no heat-signature capabilities, no night vision. His visor was a pane of glass, nothing more. He had a handgun and a spotlight.

He kept the light moving, searching for Formics trying to sneak up on their position. Occasionally his beam found one, and he squeezed off a few rounds, aiming for the Formic's center mass.

Moments later the crowd of Formics emerged from the darkness and retreated, scurrying back the way they had come. "They're leaving," said Mazer.

"Good," said Wit. "I need two more minutes."

Mazer kept moving, shining his light in every direction, gun up and ready. For a moment he thought they were in the clear. Then his light fell upon hundreds of pairs of eyes in the darkness, rushing forward.

"Formics!" said Mazer. "Two o'clock. Hundreds of them!"

"Thirty more seconds," said Wit.

The first group had been scouts, Mazer realized, sent forward to see what the enemy had to offer. This was the real army. Mazer didn't think he could hold them for ten seconds, much less thirty. They were coming like a swarm.

He flipped the gun to three-round bursts and opened fire. The gunfire echoed through the air pocket. Every shot hit a target. It wasn't hard. The Formics were practically on top of each other, charging forward, scurrying in a frenzy, closing in on Mazer like a wave of eyes and arms and fury.

They were completely fearless, he realized. He was mowing them down, but they didn't care. It was as if they knew they would overrun him eventually, and the individuals up front were willing to sacrifice themselves to make that happen.

"Thirty meters," said Mazer. "You got three seconds."

"All right," said Wit. "You're set. Go go go."

Mazer sprinted toward his drill sledge, firing erratically behind him. More Formics fell. The swarm continued forward, their fallen companions forgotten.

Mazer scurried up the ladder and into his cockpit. He saw Wit out of the corner of his eye climbing up into the other one. Mazer yanked in the ladder and closed the cockpit just as a wave of Formics slammed into the machine, climbing up the stilts and pounding on the canopy. Their weight rocked the drill sledge, and for a terrifying moment Mazer thought they might tip the sledge over or break the stilts. But the drill sledge held, despite the pounding they received.

"This won't work," said Mazer. "Calinga won't be able to get out of his sledge. They'd overrun him. We have to abort."

"Destroying this lander is more important than Calinga," said Wit. "It's more important than all of us. He knows that. If we leave now, the Formics could shield the underside. It's now or never. Let's burn him a hole."

He was right of course. The mission trumped all other considerations, even their lives.

Mazer cranked up his drill. Then he put the drill sledge's tracks in reverse and slowly lowered the drill to the surface. Lava shot upward and hit the lander. The tracks in reverse countered the forward propulsion of the drill, but the opposing forces caused the drill sledge to buck and bounce. Mazer stayed at it. Wit did the same. Lava spewed. The underside of the lander began to melt.