US Honour Guard salutes the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers at the Third War Memorial Burial Grounds, Earth [Sol]. 05102277.
Perhaps this war will pass like the others which divided us leaving us dead, killing us along with the killers but the shame of this time puts its burning fingers to our faces. Who will erase the ruthlessness hidden in innocent blood?"
- Pablo Neruda
Shattered Citadel: Looking Back
04102277, Third War Memorial Burial Grounds, Greenland Zone, Earth [Sol]
This was the last place in all of the universe he wanted to be. Still he came. He had to do it. Not for himself. He could care less if he died soon after giving his speech, but he was here for those that didn't make it. He had survived and they loved him for it, but he hated himself for living.
He stood up from his seat and ran his hands down the length of his uniform; straightening it out. He wore his original dress blues, the one with the medals and insignia of a country that no longer existed. His midnight blue uniform was well cared for, considering how old it was. Every piece of gold and brass shone brightly under the clear afternoon skies.
It was almost time for him to speak before the crowd, so he walked forward near the edge of the raised platform and patiently waited for the ceremony to end. Up to this point it had been a beautiful ceremony. A fitting memorial to the dead. He was sure if he had any emotions beyond hate and shame left, he would have cried with the crowd. He took this time to shift his gaze to the massive crowd stretched out before him. There had to be hundreds of thousands of people in attendance, maybe more. He did know that this event was being televised across the U.S., and possibly billions of people across the known universe was tuning in.
The children choir in their flowing white and yellow robes sang the "Prayer of the Republic' just to the side of the raised platform in which he stood. He did his best to avoid looking at them, even trying to block out their beautiful voices by humming to himself. He couldn't stand children. The mere sight of them sickened him. So he looked towards the front roll of the crowd where the VIPs sat. He recognized many of the people seated there. The U.S. President, his wife, his secretaries, the joint chiefs, religious leaders, numerous governors of important system-states, senators, and ambassadors from hundreds of alien worlds. He now positioned himself behind the eagle shaped podium at the center of the platform. Its golden wings outstretched towards the crowd as if its on the verge of taking off. He looked down at his prepared speech and reviewed it one last time. He looked up from his papers and watched as hundreds of massive structures which held the television screens for the crowd to see the ceremony, now opened like a flower and slowly a silver pole rose from them.
Simultaneously massive white banners rose up with the poles and the white banners transformed to flags he hadn't seen in centuries. He immediately noticed the red banner with the five yellow stars and his heart raced. The children's voices filled his head and he no longer was thinking clearly. His breathing became labored and he clutched the sides of the podium for support from falling over.
"Where the hell is our support?" he screamed at his First Sergeant as they took cover behind a wrecked assault walker.
"They're breaking through everywhere. The Israelis, Mexicans and Aussies to the north of us have retreated seven blocks, but they say their lines are stabilizing. The French, A.U. and Brazilians to the south have been routed and we could be surrounded by nightfall, Sir." The First Sergeant activated a grenade and tossed it over their cover and across the street.
"We'll hold. Pass it down the line. No one leaves their position or I'll have them shot."
"Yes, Sir." The First Sergeant left the relative safety of the cover and made a mad dash across four yards of open ground to a building further down the street.
The officer could see the yellow and red flag of his enemy defiantly flying on top of the building directly across from his position and it sickened him. He climbed on top of the downed walker and to the horror of his men started screaming at the enemy across the street. "I see you there assholes! Give up already! I'm sick of this shit!" The enemy soldiers were taken aback by his brazen actions and hesitated to fire at him. He lifted his arm and launched a missile that took out the top floors of the building. He was pulled back down to safety by his men as the enemy returned fire.
"De-Tierra! Do you have a death wish?" The company's chaplain asked him.
"Fuck you old man." The young officer was in his black armor which concealed his face, but under his helmet he gave the chaplain a cold stare.
"Don't let this madness consume your soul." The chaplain pleaded.
"Don't lecture me old man. I don't have time for your bull shit." The officer turned away and began to bark orders into his radio. Moments later a streak in the sky flew over them and an entire city block vaporized in a massive blue fireball engulfing the street opposite from their positions. The surviving enemy soldiers ran out of the burning rubble screaming as the fire consumed them. De-Tierra's company held their fire and cheered as they burned to death.
"Let us welcome the Supreme Commander of the U.S. Armed Forces, General De-Tierra!" De-Tierra snapped back when he heard his name being announced. The crowd erupted into applause and De-Tierra nervously played with the Medal of Honor hanging from his collar. He waited for the clapping to subside to speak.
"My fellow Americans and distinguished guests," he paused for a moment. "As I look back on those bleak days, when democracy's light was extinguished around the world, when an entire species stood at the edge of extinction, I thank a compassionate God that he has given us, mankind, the faith and fortitude to survive. As I reflect on those dark years in my youth, I do not remember a single time in which I did not fall into despair thinking about the future. To my young self there was no future. Too much blood had been spilled, too many cities burnt to dust, too many youths corrupted, and too many atrocities committed to even contemplate our future survival. Yet here we are, two hundred years after the guns fell silent, paying tribute to the dead in the shadow of their graves.
On this hallowed ground, all around us and on which we stand, lies the buried bodies of billions of individuals whose lives were cut short by war. In life they were enemies, in death they lie together in the peace of ages. Many of their names known only to God. In time…" He had to stop, his green eyes filled with tears and streaked down his weathered face. His jade colored eyes shone brightly under the noon sun and gave off an almost radioactive glow. He looked away from his prepared speech and continued without it. "War as I've known it. War as those born before me have known it, ended with them and will end with me. With us we take the sins and old hatreds of mankind with us. Yours is a generation free from them, and that's how it must stay. We who survived won't admit it, but we are ashamed. I ask myself how is it I survived when so many didn't? Better men than I. We paid a price to survive, but I ask myself everyday, was it worth it?"
"LT De-Tierra, Sir. Our replacement troops just arrived. Fresh from the states."
De-Tierra stood perched on top of a ancient ruined temple overlooking the ruined city. He turned to face the replacements thirteen stories below him and shouted down to his First Sergeant, "Where's the rest of them? We lost seventy taking Beihai Park. That's only twenty replacements… Goddammit! Well get them something to eat First Sarge. Were going to help the 82nd and the Royal Marines retake Tian'anmen Square at nightfall." De-Tierra began to slowly make his way down the side of the thousand year old temple.
"Yes Sir!" The First Sergeant dashed off down the street to carry out his orders while the new replacements stood together clutching their rifles. Hungry and afraid. The sound of small arms fire and artillery echoed in the streets and it scared them.
Other Marines from De-Tierra's company emerged from the ruins followed by a small hovering vehicle and the First Sergeant. They stopped short of the temple and the vehicle opened into a hot buffet line.
"Go ahead. I know y'all are hungry. So get your fill now. Food and water is scarce, but y'all came on a good day." The veteran Marines suspiciously eyed the replacements as they filled their plates with hot food. De-Tierra waited until they had filled their plates before getting food himself. He continued, "Any combat vets in this group." They just stared at him blankly. "Straight from the bunkers?"
"Yes Sir."
"Ok, well eat up" De-Tierra told them. More veteran Marines arrived and sat beside De-Tierra eating quietly.
The replacements removed their helmets and began coughing. "What the hell is that smell?" One of them complained.
"You'll get used to it. It's a mix of a lot of things. Lead, burning flesh, smoke, gastric juices, and that shit your about to eat." The veteran Marines chucked at the First Sarge.
"Guys its real meat! Beef! Its so good. You guys get the good stuff!" The young replacement wolfed down his meat, biting off large chucks with his teeth.
"Hey kid. That's not beef. When was the last time you've seen anyone eat beef? In fact, when was the last time you've ever seen a cow?" The First Sergeant asked the young Marine.
"I've never seen a cow in real life."
"Well its because they don't exist anymore."
"Well what kind of meat is this?" the veteran Marines starting laughing at him.
"What's the most plentiful source of meat on this planet? Here's a clue. It ain't rat."
The eyes of new Marine widened as he realized the horrible truth. Almost in unison the replacements threw up. The veterans continued laughing.
"Don't mind them. We all had the same reaction the first time."
A soldier in white and green armor arrived on a small hovering gun platform and jumped five feet to the ground. He went straight to De-Tierra, clicked his heels in salute and starting speaking rapidly in gibberish to him. "Speak American dammit," one of the veterans shouted.
De-Tierra raised his hand and the other Marines quieted down. He spoke to the foreign soldier in his native tongue and nodded. The soldier remounted and sped off to the north. "First Sarge change of plan, were moving now. The Free Mexican Army is going to replace us in this section of the line. Were to move northwest to the bird's nest to deal with POWs." The Marines let out an audible groan and began to return their meals. "No. You guys crazy? Bring the food with us." The Marines cheered and they refilled their plates.
It didn't take long for De-Tierra's company of two hundred to reach the birds nest, a massive stadium built decades before in better times to house the Olympics. De-Tierra's Marines marched in the front gate and a sea of people parted before them allowing them to enter unhindered. De-Tierra inspected the massive crowd, he estimated there to be 150000 Chinese civilians. They looked at him and his Marines as if they were a figment of their imagination, that American troops in their capital was an impossibility. De-Tierra looked at them with contempt as they outstretched their bony hands towards his Marines expecting food and water.
"I know what your thinking. Don't do it." The company's chaplain grabbed De-Tierra's shoulder.
"I made my decision old man." De-Tierra brushed the chaplains hand off his shoulder. "First Sarge," he beaconed his senior NCO to him.
"You don't have to do this. The wars almost over." The chaplain pleaded.
"Old man, you had twenty two years to end this war. Don't tell me what to do. Were winning it our way." De-Tierra turned away from the chaplain to face his confused First Sergeant. "Round up the women of breeding age and have them sent to the Re-Population Camps in the rear. Children under the age of four have them sent to the rear for indoctrination."
"What about the rest of them?" the First Sergeant asked.
"Kill them. Make sure the replacements do the bulk of the killing, if they refuse they can join the Chinese." As he spoke more Allied soldiers and armored walkers arrived in the stadium. They were guarding a large convoy of black trucks.
"Reapers?"
"Yes. Spread the word. Shot them in the head or decapitate. We will take their water, meat and organs. Nothing must be wasted, including bullets. So one shot, one kill."
"Yes Sir." The First Sergeant left and almost immediately the shooting started. Thousands screamed as the living were separated from those slated to die. Crying and shrieking filled the stadium as hundreds were executed at a time. De-Tierra removed his helmet and took a long deep breath. The iron-like smell of blood filled his nostrils and he liked it. He relished the squishy sounds of a body being carved as it was harvested for its precious water and meat.
"You could have stopped this. This is not God's will!" The chaplain threw himself at the feet of the young Lieutenant, crying.
"Your right I could have, but I won't. They showed no mercy to us and I will show none to them."
"Stop this! Americans do not do this. For the love of God do you not hear their cries?" The chaplain wept uncontrollably at the young officers feet.
"Old man, I know what I am. If this is not God's will, then why won't he stop it? Where was he when the world turned to shit? This God of yours is useless." De-Tierra looked down at the weeping chaplain and a profound sadness filled his heart. "Look, I didn't have to save the women and children, but I did. Be happy I did that much."
"I'll pray for your soul and for the souls of your victims. You're a better man then this! God still loves you!" The chaplain crawled away in despair.
De-Tierra removed his half-eaten lunch from his pouch and bit off a large chunk of cold meat. He felt sick and tossed the rest of it on the blood soaked ground.
"I also asked myself, as I'm sure you have asked yourselves, where was God in all this? At that time I thought I knew the answer; he was nowhere. To me he either didn't exist or had abandoned us. Now I know, he was with us more at that time then any other. Like the story of Noah Ark, when God called the flood to destroy the earth. God called on the fires of war to destroy the earth, so that we could reshape it afterwards. It is rare that a man learns from his mistakes if he loses nothing, in the Third War, we lost everything and so we learned. We learned to live together in peace as God intended. You know nothing of the blind hatreds that plagued mankind then. Arguments over things like skin color, religion, and best-to-be forgotten ideology's seem trivial compared to the things that unite us. By the grace of a merciful God we are still alive as a species and thriving. As numerous as the stars themselves. We now face a dangerous universe full of enemies, but we can face them, because we stand united. Let us go forward to preserve in peace what we won in war. I thank you. May God bless America." The massive crowd stood on their feet and gave him a standing ovation. De-Tierra watched as the old banners changed one more time and morphed into the flag of the U.S. with its red, white, black and earth emblem. High above him, the skies suddenly filled with thousands of warships in parade formation. The ships slowly passed over them, representing hundreds of alien governments honoring mankind. The alien ships were dwarfed by the U.S. ships among them, all together they shot out a thunderous volley into space that literally shook the earth below them.
The children choir began to sing again, an ancient hymn De-Tierra instantly recognized. He looked their way and his eyes narrowed on a small child with blond hair. He stood paralyzed in fear as the child's eyes began to bleed. The child's face was distorted in pain and his eyes were missing, only the fluid that was his eyes covered his face. De-Tierra bit his lip and soon all the children in the choir had bleeding eyes and still they sang. De-Tierra turned and left the platform as the children's voices filled his head taunting him. He fell to his knees and cupped his ears.
"Sir, Are you ok?!" A soldier ran up to De-Tierra, but he motioned for him to leave.
De-Tierra and his Marines cautiously advanced through the ruined ancient city of Xi'an, for the first time in weeks they advanced after enduring a massive Chinese counter-attack. They made no effort to step over the piles of dead bodies, just trampling over them. Shattering bones with each step of their heavy black boots. One Marine shouted, "Heeeeey! Look at what "Where's the beef?' found!" The other Marines cheered as the young marine proudly displayed his loot. Waving the dirty magazine over his head like a flag.
"Asshole, I told you not to call me that. I won't let you see it then." The other Marines laughed.
"Whatever you say Big Mac." the other Marines just laughed harder.
"Big Mac, What the fuck is this?" De-Tierra grabbed the magazine and ripped it in half. "I told you to stop picking shit up. It could be booby-trapped." His Marines laughed harder at his choice of words so De-Tierra lifted his rifle towards them, "Be mature and shut up."
They moved quietly through the streets, alarmed at the total lack of enemy soldiers. "Where are they?" De-Tierra asked himself. He saw in the corner of his eye Big Mac staring at a Winnie the Pooh doll. He could see Big Mac reaching for the doll and a sudden feeling of dread filled his mind. "Don't Pick it up!" Big Mac had the doll in his arms and hugged it, almost immediately a black cylinder rose from the ground and exploded in a blinding blue flash. He awoke seconds later, he felt for his legs and stood up. He ran over and saw five of his Marines splayed out dead, crushed in their own armor.
The chaplain ran over and began administering final rites to the dead Marines. Big Mac began twitching and sat up. The other Marines removed Big Macs helmet and De-Tierra backed away shocked. The concussion from the explosion had shattered the young boy's eyes and ears. Blood was pouring from every part of Big Macs face as he screamed in pain for his mother. The other Marines stood around him in a circle horrified. The chaplain approached the screaming Marine and grabbed his hand, immediately the child stopped screaming and began whimpering. "You have to send him to the rear. You can still save him." The Chaplin said.
"He's better off dead old man. He's blind, deaf, and useless. Not to mention that little fuck killed five of my Marines. I won't spare four men to take him to the rear." The other Marines shook their heads baffled at De-Tierra.
"He's only eleven. In God's eye he's still innocent."
"So what? Were all still kids old man. Let him go unto God then." De-Tierra lifted his rifle, hesitating as the small blond child looked at him without eyes and began crying once more for his mother. He squeezed the trigger and looked away as the crying stopped. "I would expect you all to do the same for me." The other Marines gathered closer to the dead boy, looking at him one last time before moving on.
De-Tierra walked alone among the graves looking for a name he hadn't seen in two hundred years. The graves stretched out as far as he could see in every direction. Finally he stopped and found the grave he was looking for. He stood over it and knelt down in the green grass in his uniform. He stared at the marble cross and wept. "I was afraid of coming here, since I am a trespasser in this holy place. I am a monster, a demon. Instead of bringing light into this universe, all I brought was darkness. How can a man like myself who's killed more people then Hitler still be alive and loved? I would kill myself, but I'm too much of coward to do so. I'm scared of hell; suicides go directly to hell. Me scared of hell? With what I've done I should be guaranteed a spot in hell, but I am a different man now. I know I can't avoid hell now with what I've done, but I will live the rest of my days to preserve life, bring peace and bear the sins of others. I am a corrupted soul, but I will prevent others from being corrupted like me. This I swear. Nothing I can say will bring you back and all the others killed by me. I hope one day you'll forgive me, but I can never forgive myself. I am sorry it's taken this long. Good-bye Big Mac." De-Tierra stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes. He opened a bag and placed a Winnie the Pooh doll besides the grave. He began to walk away and suddenly stopped. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough my child."
"I don't know if you're an angel, a manifestation of my guilt, or my insanity but I'm glad to see you chaplain." De-Tierra turned to face the man he knew didn't exist and possibly never did. "Will I be given a chance to redeem myself?"
"No one is beyond redemption my child."
"I know… I know, God loves me."
"He loves all his children."
"I find that hard to believe," De-Tierra said looking down at the doll.
"Your still a good man and you will do good things. As much as it pains you, you must continue living."
"I can't bear this guilt and shame anymore…" De-Tierra looked up and saw nothing but graves.
"Sir! There you are!" A Marine ran towards De-Tierra and he smiled at the Sergeant Major. "Sir, the fleet is ready to move to the Vosh'ra home world for a peacekeeping mission as you requested. Sir, I have to ask, why are you going in the first wave with the Two Percenters? Your too important. You could be killed."
"Its our duty to help and if I die it won't matter my friend. Don't worry me and you survived far worst."
The Sergeant Major nodded and looked at the grave and immediately focused back on De-Tierra. "Is that Big Mac's grave?"
"That it is. Lets go. There's much work to be done."
Shattered Citadel: Looking Back
04102277, Third War Memorial Burial Grounds, Greenland Zone, Earth [Sol]
This was the last place in all of the universe he wanted to be. Still he came. He had to do it. Not for himself. He could care less if he died soon after giving his speech, but he was here for those that didn't make it. He had survived and they loved him for it, but he hated himself for living.
He stood up from his seat and ran his hands down the length of his uniform; straightening it out. He wore his original dress blues, the one with the medals and insignia of a country that no longer existed. His midnight blue uniform was well cared for, considering how old it was. Every piece of gold and brass shone brightly under the clear afternoon skies.
It was almost time for him to speak before the crowd, so he walked forward near the edge of the raised platform and patiently waited for the ceremony to end. Up to this point it had been a beautiful ceremony. A fitting memorial to the dead. He was sure if he had any emotions beyond hate and shame left, he would have cried with the crowd. He took this time to shift his gaze to the massive crowd stretched out before him. There had to be hundreds of thousands of people in attendance, maybe more. He did know that this event was being televised across the U.S., and possibly billions of people across the known universe was tuning in.
The children choir in their flowing white and yellow robes sang the "Prayer of the Republic' just to the side of the raised platform in which he stood. He did his best to avoid looking at them, even trying to block out their beautiful voices by humming to himself. He couldn't stand children. The mere sight of them sickened him. So he looked towards the front roll of the crowd where the VIPs sat. He recognized many of the people seated there. The U.S. President, his wife, his secretaries, the joint chiefs, religious leaders, numerous governors of important system-states, senators, and ambassadors from hundreds of alien worlds. He now positioned himself behind the eagle shaped podium at the center of the platform. Its golden wings outstretched towards the crowd as if its on the verge of taking off. He looked down at his prepared speech and reviewed it one last time. He looked up from his papers and watched as hundreds of massive structures which held the television screens for the crowd to see the ceremony, now opened like a flower and slowly a silver pole rose from them.
Simultaneously massive white banners rose up with the poles and the white banners transformed to flags he hadn't seen in centuries. He immediately noticed the red banner with the five yellow stars and his heart raced. The children's voices filled his head and he no longer was thinking clearly. His breathing became labored and he clutched the sides of the podium for support from falling over.
"Where the hell is our support?" he screamed at his First Sergeant as they took cover behind a wrecked assault walker.
"They're breaking through everywhere. The Israelis, Mexicans and Aussies to the north of us have retreated seven blocks, but they say their lines are stabilizing. The French, A.U. and Brazilians to the south have been routed and we could be surrounded by nightfall, Sir." The First Sergeant activated a grenade and tossed it over their cover and across the street.
"We'll hold. Pass it down the line. No one leaves their position or I'll have them shot."
"Yes, Sir." The First Sergeant left the relative safety of the cover and made a mad dash across four yards of open ground to a building further down the street.
The officer could see the yellow and red flag of his enemy defiantly flying on top of the building directly across from his position and it sickened him. He climbed on top of the downed walker and to the horror of his men started screaming at the enemy across the street. "I see you there assholes! Give up already! I'm sick of this shit!" The enemy soldiers were taken aback by his brazen actions and hesitated to fire at him. He lifted his arm and launched a missile that took out the top floors of the building. He was pulled back down to safety by his men as the enemy returned fire.
"De-Tierra! Do you have a death wish?" The company's chaplain asked him.
"Fuck you old man." The young officer was in his black armor which concealed his face, but under his helmet he gave the chaplain a cold stare.
"Don't let this madness consume your soul." The chaplain pleaded.
"Don't lecture me old man. I don't have time for your bull shit." The officer turned away and began to bark orders into his radio. Moments later a streak in the sky flew over them and an entire city block vaporized in a massive blue fireball engulfing the street opposite from their positions. The surviving enemy soldiers ran out of the burning rubble screaming as the fire consumed them. De-Tierra's company held their fire and cheered as they burned to death.
"Let us welcome the Supreme Commander of the U.S. Armed Forces, General De-Tierra!" De-Tierra snapped back when he heard his name being announced. The crowd erupted into applause and De-Tierra nervously played with the Medal of Honor hanging from his collar. He waited for the clapping to subside to speak.
"My fellow Americans and distinguished guests," he paused for a moment. "As I look back on those bleak days, when democracy's light was extinguished around the world, when an entire species stood at the edge of extinction, I thank a compassionate God that he has given us, mankind, the faith and fortitude to survive. As I reflect on those dark years in my youth, I do not remember a single time in which I did not fall into despair thinking about the future. To my young self there was no future. Too much blood had been spilled, too many cities burnt to dust, too many youths corrupted, and too many atrocities committed to even contemplate our future survival. Yet here we are, two hundred years after the guns fell silent, paying tribute to the dead in the shadow of their graves.
On this hallowed ground, all around us and on which we stand, lies the buried bodies of billions of individuals whose lives were cut short by war. In life they were enemies, in death they lie together in the peace of ages. Many of their names known only to God. In time…" He had to stop, his green eyes filled with tears and streaked down his weathered face. His jade colored eyes shone brightly under the noon sun and gave off an almost radioactive glow. He looked away from his prepared speech and continued without it. "War as I've known it. War as those born before me have known it, ended with them and will end with me. With us we take the sins and old hatreds of mankind with us. Yours is a generation free from them, and that's how it must stay. We who survived won't admit it, but we are ashamed. I ask myself how is it I survived when so many didn't? Better men than I. We paid a price to survive, but I ask myself everyday, was it worth it?"
"LT De-Tierra, Sir. Our replacement troops just arrived. Fresh from the states."
De-Tierra stood perched on top of a ancient ruined temple overlooking the ruined city. He turned to face the replacements thirteen stories below him and shouted down to his First Sergeant, "Where's the rest of them? We lost seventy taking Beihai Park. That's only twenty replacements… Goddammit! Well get them something to eat First Sarge. Were going to help the 82nd and the Royal Marines retake Tian'anmen Square at nightfall." De-Tierra began to slowly make his way down the side of the thousand year old temple.
"Yes Sir!" The First Sergeant dashed off down the street to carry out his orders while the new replacements stood together clutching their rifles. Hungry and afraid. The sound of small arms fire and artillery echoed in the streets and it scared them.
Other Marines from De-Tierra's company emerged from the ruins followed by a small hovering vehicle and the First Sergeant. They stopped short of the temple and the vehicle opened into a hot buffet line.
"Go ahead. I know y'all are hungry. So get your fill now. Food and water is scarce, but y'all came on a good day." The veteran Marines suspiciously eyed the replacements as they filled their plates with hot food. De-Tierra waited until they had filled their plates before getting food himself. He continued, "Any combat vets in this group." They just stared at him blankly. "Straight from the bunkers?"
"Yes Sir."
"Ok, well eat up" De-Tierra told them. More veteran Marines arrived and sat beside De-Tierra eating quietly.
The replacements removed their helmets and began coughing. "What the hell is that smell?" One of them complained.
"You'll get used to it. It's a mix of a lot of things. Lead, burning flesh, smoke, gastric juices, and that shit your about to eat." The veteran Marines chucked at the First Sarge.
"Guys its real meat! Beef! Its so good. You guys get the good stuff!" The young replacement wolfed down his meat, biting off large chucks with his teeth.
"Hey kid. That's not beef. When was the last time you've seen anyone eat beef? In fact, when was the last time you've ever seen a cow?" The First Sergeant asked the young Marine.
"I've never seen a cow in real life."
"Well its because they don't exist anymore."
"Well what kind of meat is this?" the veteran Marines starting laughing at him.
"What's the most plentiful source of meat on this planet? Here's a clue. It ain't rat."
The eyes of new Marine widened as he realized the horrible truth. Almost in unison the replacements threw up. The veterans continued laughing.
"Don't mind them. We all had the same reaction the first time."
A soldier in white and green armor arrived on a small hovering gun platform and jumped five feet to the ground. He went straight to De-Tierra, clicked his heels in salute and starting speaking rapidly in gibberish to him. "Speak American dammit," one of the veterans shouted.
De-Tierra raised his hand and the other Marines quieted down. He spoke to the foreign soldier in his native tongue and nodded. The soldier remounted and sped off to the north. "First Sarge change of plan, were moving now. The Free Mexican Army is going to replace us in this section of the line. Were to move northwest to the bird's nest to deal with POWs." The Marines let out an audible groan and began to return their meals. "No. You guys crazy? Bring the food with us." The Marines cheered and they refilled their plates.
It didn't take long for De-Tierra's company of two hundred to reach the birds nest, a massive stadium built decades before in better times to house the Olympics. De-Tierra's Marines marched in the front gate and a sea of people parted before them allowing them to enter unhindered. De-Tierra inspected the massive crowd, he estimated there to be 150000 Chinese civilians. They looked at him and his Marines as if they were a figment of their imagination, that American troops in their capital was an impossibility. De-Tierra looked at them with contempt as they outstretched their bony hands towards his Marines expecting food and water.
"I know what your thinking. Don't do it." The company's chaplain grabbed De-Tierra's shoulder.
"I made my decision old man." De-Tierra brushed the chaplains hand off his shoulder. "First Sarge," he beaconed his senior NCO to him.
"You don't have to do this. The wars almost over." The chaplain pleaded.
"Old man, you had twenty two years to end this war. Don't tell me what to do. Were winning it our way." De-Tierra turned away from the chaplain to face his confused First Sergeant. "Round up the women of breeding age and have them sent to the Re-Population Camps in the rear. Children under the age of four have them sent to the rear for indoctrination."
"What about the rest of them?" the First Sergeant asked.
"Kill them. Make sure the replacements do the bulk of the killing, if they refuse they can join the Chinese." As he spoke more Allied soldiers and armored walkers arrived in the stadium. They were guarding a large convoy of black trucks.
"Reapers?"
"Yes. Spread the word. Shot them in the head or decapitate. We will take their water, meat and organs. Nothing must be wasted, including bullets. So one shot, one kill."
"Yes Sir." The First Sergeant left and almost immediately the shooting started. Thousands screamed as the living were separated from those slated to die. Crying and shrieking filled the stadium as hundreds were executed at a time. De-Tierra removed his helmet and took a long deep breath. The iron-like smell of blood filled his nostrils and he liked it. He relished the squishy sounds of a body being carved as it was harvested for its precious water and meat.
"You could have stopped this. This is not God's will!" The chaplain threw himself at the feet of the young Lieutenant, crying.
"Your right I could have, but I won't. They showed no mercy to us and I will show none to them."
"Stop this! Americans do not do this. For the love of God do you not hear their cries?" The chaplain wept uncontrollably at the young officers feet.
"Old man, I know what I am. If this is not God's will, then why won't he stop it? Where was he when the world turned to shit? This God of yours is useless." De-Tierra looked down at the weeping chaplain and a profound sadness filled his heart. "Look, I didn't have to save the women and children, but I did. Be happy I did that much."
"I'll pray for your soul and for the souls of your victims. You're a better man then this! God still loves you!" The chaplain crawled away in despair.
De-Tierra removed his half-eaten lunch from his pouch and bit off a large chunk of cold meat. He felt sick and tossed the rest of it on the blood soaked ground.
"I also asked myself, as I'm sure you have asked yourselves, where was God in all this? At that time I thought I knew the answer; he was nowhere. To me he either didn't exist or had abandoned us. Now I know, he was with us more at that time then any other. Like the story of Noah Ark, when God called the flood to destroy the earth. God called on the fires of war to destroy the earth, so that we could reshape it afterwards. It is rare that a man learns from his mistakes if he loses nothing, in the Third War, we lost everything and so we learned. We learned to live together in peace as God intended. You know nothing of the blind hatreds that plagued mankind then. Arguments over things like skin color, religion, and best-to-be forgotten ideology's seem trivial compared to the things that unite us. By the grace of a merciful God we are still alive as a species and thriving. As numerous as the stars themselves. We now face a dangerous universe full of enemies, but we can face them, because we stand united. Let us go forward to preserve in peace what we won in war. I thank you. May God bless America." The massive crowd stood on their feet and gave him a standing ovation. De-Tierra watched as the old banners changed one more time and morphed into the flag of the U.S. with its red, white, black and earth emblem. High above him, the skies suddenly filled with thousands of warships in parade formation. The ships slowly passed over them, representing hundreds of alien governments honoring mankind. The alien ships were dwarfed by the U.S. ships among them, all together they shot out a thunderous volley into space that literally shook the earth below them.
The children choir began to sing again, an ancient hymn De-Tierra instantly recognized. He looked their way and his eyes narrowed on a small child with blond hair. He stood paralyzed in fear as the child's eyes began to bleed. The child's face was distorted in pain and his eyes were missing, only the fluid that was his eyes covered his face. De-Tierra bit his lip and soon all the children in the choir had bleeding eyes and still they sang. De-Tierra turned and left the platform as the children's voices filled his head taunting him. He fell to his knees and cupped his ears.
"Sir, Are you ok?!" A soldier ran up to De-Tierra, but he motioned for him to leave.
De-Tierra and his Marines cautiously advanced through the ruined ancient city of Xi'an, for the first time in weeks they advanced after enduring a massive Chinese counter-attack. They made no effort to step over the piles of dead bodies, just trampling over them. Shattering bones with each step of their heavy black boots. One Marine shouted, "Heeeeey! Look at what "Where's the beef?' found!" The other Marines cheered as the young marine proudly displayed his loot. Waving the dirty magazine over his head like a flag.
"Asshole, I told you not to call me that. I won't let you see it then." The other Marines laughed.
"Whatever you say Big Mac." the other Marines just laughed harder.
"Big Mac, What the fuck is this?" De-Tierra grabbed the magazine and ripped it in half. "I told you to stop picking shit up. It could be booby-trapped." His Marines laughed harder at his choice of words so De-Tierra lifted his rifle towards them, "Be mature and shut up."
They moved quietly through the streets, alarmed at the total lack of enemy soldiers. "Where are they?" De-Tierra asked himself. He saw in the corner of his eye Big Mac staring at a Winnie the Pooh doll. He could see Big Mac reaching for the doll and a sudden feeling of dread filled his mind. "Don't Pick it up!" Big Mac had the doll in his arms and hugged it, almost immediately a black cylinder rose from the ground and exploded in a blinding blue flash. He awoke seconds later, he felt for his legs and stood up. He ran over and saw five of his Marines splayed out dead, crushed in their own armor.
The chaplain ran over and began administering final rites to the dead Marines. Big Mac began twitching and sat up. The other Marines removed Big Macs helmet and De-Tierra backed away shocked. The concussion from the explosion had shattered the young boy's eyes and ears. Blood was pouring from every part of Big Macs face as he screamed in pain for his mother. The other Marines stood around him in a circle horrified. The chaplain approached the screaming Marine and grabbed his hand, immediately the child stopped screaming and began whimpering. "You have to send him to the rear. You can still save him." The Chaplin said.
"He's better off dead old man. He's blind, deaf, and useless. Not to mention that little fuck killed five of my Marines. I won't spare four men to take him to the rear." The other Marines shook their heads baffled at De-Tierra.
"He's only eleven. In God's eye he's still innocent."
"So what? Were all still kids old man. Let him go unto God then." De-Tierra lifted his rifle, hesitating as the small blond child looked at him without eyes and began crying once more for his mother. He squeezed the trigger and looked away as the crying stopped. "I would expect you all to do the same for me." The other Marines gathered closer to the dead boy, looking at him one last time before moving on.
De-Tierra walked alone among the graves looking for a name he hadn't seen in two hundred years. The graves stretched out as far as he could see in every direction. Finally he stopped and found the grave he was looking for. He stood over it and knelt down in the green grass in his uniform. He stared at the marble cross and wept. "I was afraid of coming here, since I am a trespasser in this holy place. I am a monster, a demon. Instead of bringing light into this universe, all I brought was darkness. How can a man like myself who's killed more people then Hitler still be alive and loved? I would kill myself, but I'm too much of coward to do so. I'm scared of hell; suicides go directly to hell. Me scared of hell? With what I've done I should be guaranteed a spot in hell, but I am a different man now. I know I can't avoid hell now with what I've done, but I will live the rest of my days to preserve life, bring peace and bear the sins of others. I am a corrupted soul, but I will prevent others from being corrupted like me. This I swear. Nothing I can say will bring you back and all the others killed by me. I hope one day you'll forgive me, but I can never forgive myself. I am sorry it's taken this long. Good-bye Big Mac." De-Tierra stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes. He opened a bag and placed a Winnie the Pooh doll besides the grave. He began to walk away and suddenly stopped. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough my child."
"I don't know if you're an angel, a manifestation of my guilt, or my insanity but I'm glad to see you chaplain." De-Tierra turned to face the man he knew didn't exist and possibly never did. "Will I be given a chance to redeem myself?"
"No one is beyond redemption my child."
"I know… I know, God loves me."
"He loves all his children."
"I find that hard to believe," De-Tierra said looking down at the doll.
"Your still a good man and you will do good things. As much as it pains you, you must continue living."
"I can't bear this guilt and shame anymore…" De-Tierra looked up and saw nothing but graves.
"Sir! There you are!" A Marine ran towards De-Tierra and he smiled at the Sergeant Major. "Sir, the fleet is ready to move to the Vosh'ra home world for a peacekeeping mission as you requested. Sir, I have to ask, why are you going in the first wave with the Two Percenters? Your too important. You could be killed."
"Its our duty to help and if I die it won't matter my friend. Don't worry me and you survived far worst."
The Sergeant Major nodded and looked at the grave and immediately focused back on De-Tierra. "Is that Big Mac's grave?"
"That it is. Lets go. There's much work to be done."
1
SC: Looking Back
Thu, 11th November, 2010
Two hundred years after the Third Human Civil War, a man reflects on his part in that war.
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Comments Greatly Appreciated. Feel Free to Leave One here.