Chapter Two Hundred and Fifty-Two: Rapid Response (Patreon)

Anne’s interview was released online on a Saturday.

By Sunday morning, it had passed eleven million views and was still climbing.

Moira Sanghwan called us that morning, almost giddy with excitement. “It was everything we hoped for, and more,” she said. “All channels are trending positive, and she has a massive following across every single demographic. Men, women, teenagers, senior citizens, right wing, left wing - uniform positive comments.”

“That’s rather unusual, isn’t it?” I asked. 

“Patil has become a rather outspoken champion of Anne’s cause. Which is even better than we expected.”

“I don’t have a cause,” said Anne.

“You spoke of how ultrahumans can’t get therapy. Mental health and wellness is something we take very seriously. But until last night, no-one thought about ultrahuman access. I expect this to be picked up by several major networks and at least a half-dozen major foundations.”

“Does that help BAE-Dragonfly?” asked Anne. “Because that’s what we were trying to do, right?”

“It helps, in ways we had not even anticipated. Positive press on you, and even Caroline Thorn has wisely decided not to attack your interview - apart from a few snide online comments which were drowned by a chorus of downvotes. You are popular, Anne - spectacularly so.”

“Me, popular?” Anne gave a half-hearted laugh. “That sounds hard to believe.”

“Have faith in your friendly PR team. I’ve made far more out of far less.”

To celebrate, Paul decided to cook a special lunch. 

“Haggis with a side of herbed trout,” he announced, knives flashing, as he carved up the fish in the kitchen. “And the sweetness of a key lime pie to round it out.”

“Aren’t any of Andrew’s home-cooked sweets left?” Anne asked.

“Young lady, today we are going to eat MY cooking.”

“Andrew, Cure works on food poisoning, right?”

“I’m sure the food will be fine,” I temporized. “But there are some leftover kaju katlis in the fridge. Just in case.”

Our pagers buzzed. 

The SURGE pagers. 

Paul put the sliced fish down. “This shall be refrigerated. For now. And once you’re back, we shall dine on the goodness of haggis and herbed trout. With a dessert of the most perfectly baked key lime pie to round it out.”

“I’ll pick up something from Burger King on the way back.” 

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Ten minutes later, we were at Farnborough. 

I buckled into the Shadowcat as Anne donned her helmet. Around us, the sounds of hundreds of troops marching, equipment moving, and missiles being loaded into trailers echoed the readiness of the Rapid Response Division to move to battle. 

If there was one positive thing about the Battle of Tanisport, it was how effective the Rapid Response Division had proven to be. Despite facing two million enemies and an underground warren of entrenched alien defenders, they had won. A fact that had been noted amongst the highest echelons of military command, across the globe.

What’s the reward for a job well done?

Another job.

And so the Rapid Response Division had been expanded. Colonel Donald Green had been promoted and made a Brigadier, in charge of the newly christened 1st Assault Boar Brigade.

And a brigade it was. With our identities now public, equipping and armouring new troops had been a much, much faster process over the last month. 

In the few minutes that the men - and women - of the Assault Boar Brigade marched into the Farnborough assembly point, I had initialized the Shadowcat’s systems and linked up with the communication network.

Over the command channel, I reached out to Green. “Brigadier. Good to see you.”

“Likewise, Belessar. How’s the new suit?”

“A little less effective than my last one, but needs must.”

“Hi, Brigadier Green,” Anne joined the channel. “Do we know where they’re going to attack?”

“Word from command is that the aliens are still cutting their way through the Shield. It’s in the middle of the Indian Ocean, so they could be hitting us anywhere from eastern Africa to Australia.”

“The Stratospheric Guard is asking us to sit tight and be ready for deployment,” Pemberley announced, joining the channel. “As of now, there are six Travelers on-site, ready to deposit us wherever the aliens hit. Green - are your men ready for action?”

“Raring to go, ma’am, all four thousand of them. And congratulations on your promotion.”

“Hey, congratulations, Molly!” Anne exclaimed. “When did this happen?”

“About twenty minutes ago,” sighed Pemberley. “Orders direct from Windsor, who wishes us the best of luck. And Nanocloud, I’d take it as a favour if you called me Vice-Marshal for the duration?”

“Sure thing, ma’am.” 

As Pemberley turned her attention to the other officers who joined the channel, my sister messaged me.

<Nanocloud>: Did I screw up?

<Belessar>: I don’t think it matters, honestly. Since when do you call her Molly, though?

<Nanocloud>: I called her to ask about Sandhurst Preparatory. She was pretty encouraging; actually that’s when she said to call her Molly. 

<Belessar>: I’m guessing she was off-duty then. Don’t worry about it - I’ve argued with Edgar Curry in public, and yet here we are.

<Nanocloud>: So….

<Belessar>: You’re calling her Air Vice-Marshal for the duration of the battle, though.

<Nanocloud>: Yeah, I got that. But the whole thing about her promotion coming through twenty minutes ago?

I chuckled.

<Belessar>: The Stratospheric Guard and the British government have been in a tug-of-war about who should command the Division for the last few months. From what Gideon told me - through his sources - there’s been dozens of officers who want it, but nobody everyone can agree on. 

<Nanocloud>: That doesn’t explain the promotion.

<Belessar>: Let’s put it this way. The Rapid Response Division, the most advanced combat formation - at least technologically - that human armies have ever fielded in history, is about to be put into a battle deliberately, and they don’t have a designated commanding officer. Would you want to send a unit like this into battle without a clear chain of command?

<Nanocloud>: When you put it that way, it makes sense. So they panicked and promoted Pemberley?

<Belessar>: Since Heath’s death she’s been more or less running the Division anyway. It’s well deserved.

“Everyone listen up,” Pemberley announced on the command channel. “Quick introductions, for those of you who’ve not met them before. Belessar and Nanocloud are on the Division command channel, and will be the primary representatives for any actions that ultrahumans need to undertake. We have two new unit commanders, so everyone please introduce yourselves.”

“Brigadier Donald Green, 1st Armoured Boar Brigade. Four thousand and twenty Boar class battlesuits ready for action. Loadout, one thousand Lightning Guns and three thousand HEPARs.”

“Brigadier Angus Shaw, 2nd Light Armoured Brigade. Six thousand personnel equipped with laser rifles, handheld missile launchers, and other heavy weapons, all in nanofibre weave.”

“Brigadier Tansy Partridge, nice to meet y’all. Third Armoured Brigade; I have three hundred Challenger-III tanks at full battle readiness.”

“Colonel Michael Colfax, 125th Royal Artillery Detached Regiment. We have eighty mobile artillery platforms, AS-74 guns on the Wellington chassis, ready for action.”

“Colfax, weren’t we supposed to have a hundred?” Pemberley asked.

“Ma’am, 5th Battalion’s fitout was delayed by a week.”

“Very well, we’ll make do. Daisy?”

“Group Captain Daisy Miller, 4th Air Combat Group, honoured to be here today. I have the First Air Wing of sixty combat helicopters, Second UAV Wing with a hundred and twenty combat drones, and Third Close Air Support Wing with forty-eight VTOL attack aircraft, all cleared for action.”

“Daisy, Michael - welcome to the Division command channel. Tansy, Angus, Donald - you know the drill but I’m repeating it for everyone’s benefit. Once we have a target and transition, Nanocloud will be running battlefield intelligence. Remind your troops to listen to her; if she says invisible alien commandos are about to get the drop on you, then they probably are. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Acknowledgements chorused on the channel.

“Nanocloud. Once we land, how quickly can you get your sensors deployed?”

“I have twenty canisters of nanobots ready to go. Fifteen to twenty minutes to cover a five kilometre radius, but a little assistance could help them go faster.”

“Angus, do you have any motorbikes?”

“I have twenty bikers ready to go, ma’am,” the Colonel chuckled. “We remember London.”

“Excellent. Everyone have ear protection?”

“Yes ma’am,” the chorus sounded again.

“Belessar, I assume you’ll want to be the spearhead for our formation.”

I shrugged, then realised they couldn’t see me on the audio. “It’ll depend on the situation.”

“Carnotaurs?”

“Then definitely yes. I have a full array of anti-Carnotaur missiles loaded up, and replacements in the trucks.”

“I noted the eight truckloads of missiles. Angus, can you task a platoon to guard them?”

“Already done, ma’am.”

“Belessar, once the enemy hits the ground, we’ll need you to analyze them first. The Hierarchy have been throwing a new surprise at us in every attack, lately. I want information on what we’re going up against today. Carnotaurs? Puppetmasters? More Xeranai mega-walkers? Stealth rovers or stealth tanks? Get me their force disposition first, before you plunge into the fray.”

“Noted.”

“Once we know the target, Travelers will create portals. Each brigade has a dedicated Traveler assigned to it; Nanocloud, Belessar, you can go through with the 1st. Artillery and Air go through last; air assets will stay ground-bound until we know what we’re facing. No point letting the enemy get in free shots. Artillery, find suitable positions and set up. Colfax - the host country, wherever we are, may have some artillery units readily available, be prepared to coordinate with them as well. Stratospheric Guard has sent us city maps of all cities and towns with a population of over ten thousand in the potential target countries; make sure your troops use the correct one.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good luck and Godspeed.”

As the others dropped off the command channel, I messaged Nanocloud.

<Belessar>: Are you nervous?

<Nanocloud>: It’s only my fifth battle, Andrew.

<Belessar>: Fair point. I guess I was just checking up on you. It’s the first time you won’t have Phoenix Company as bodyguards.

<Nanocloud>: I guess I’ll make do with the hundred-odd bodyguards Shaw has me surrounded with. 

<Belessar>: Are you sure you don’t want a Boar-class suit? We have plenty to spare.

<Nanocloud>: We’ve been over this, Andrew. A single Boar-class suit in the middle of a swarm of nanofibre weave screams ‘high value target’ for a Gellatoid or a Lynxian. And we can’t spare a hundred Boar class suits from the frontlines to guard me.

<Belessar>: Just remember that if things go wrong, you message me immediately. No matter what.

<Nanocloud>: Don’t worry about me, you big oaf. You’re the one who gets into hand-to-hand combat with giant spider aliens.

<Belessar>: That was the one time.

<Nanocloud>: And faces off against bigger battlesuits.

<Belessar>: Okay, maybe more than the one time.

<Nanocloud>: While nearly naked.

<Belessar>: Also the one time, and it was a trap.

<Nanocloud>: This might be one, too. Remember what Pemberley said - the Hierarchy throws a new surprise at us every time? They’ve had months to prepare.

<Belessar>: We’ll do what we always do. We’ll figure out the surprise, and then tear it apart.