The Barrier City - 3/13

As the commands to open the gates were entered into a keypad, Kitel shifted in the shadow of the Barrier Wall and craned his neck. He had read the sign nearly every day of his life, and he paused now to read it again.

Soon dozens of infantrymen were jogging into the street. These soldiers were differently garbed than either the gatekeepers or Kitel. They lacked the silver plating and self-contained body-suits, wearing instead simpler brown and tan armor with helmets that didn’t have faceplates. The infantrymen moved sharply and precisely, each limb swinging with discipline and an economy of movement.

They lined the streets before the gates and took up firing positions with their semiautomatic rifles. Kitel moved to the back of the lines, and watched the massive stone and metal gates begin to move. Ingeniously balanced counterweights allowed them to open with an eerie silence, and only the clicking and jangling of safeties being removed and rounds being chambered broke it.

A crowd of civilians, drawn by the activity, had gathered. For the most part they stood well behind the soldiers. A few exuberant children who had slipped away from their parents stood out in front of the crowd. They craned their necks to see past the soldiers’ armored sides, and no one called them back.

A resonant thud punctuated the opening of the gates, and the road could be seen stretching out to the eastern horizon. A gritty sound came from the soldiers shifting their feet and readjusting their weapons. As the civilians saw the front of the open gates, where gouges and scores were now visible, they nervously glanced at the chitinous trophies of scale and tusk adorning the inner walls.