Drifter's War Page 11

  It got cold toward evening, much colder than the Il Ronnians desert-born bones liked, and he could have been snug and warm up in orbit. The navy liked its comforts and had them. But Teex took pride in living with his troops.

  "Good officers lead by example." That's what it said in the manual, and that's what Teex would do.

  The Ilwik paused by the entrance, waited for the fabric to iris open, and stepped outside. A breeze cut through his summer-weight uniform and chilled his leathery skin.

  Teex looked around. Fire Base One topped an entire hill. The same hill that had been crowned with a large building the month before. A rather overdone piece of architecture replete with columns, mosaics, and fountains. Weak though, very weak. His engineers had brought the structure down with eight carefully placed explosions.

  The troopers had put the rubble to good use reinforcing the weapons positions along the perimeter, the command center, and the ammo dumps. The finely veined marble was pink and very hard. Just the thing for stopping bullets.

  The sun was low in the sky and threw long hard shadows toward the city below. It seemed to shimmer in the evening light. It was a strange place, built for a race of sentients long disappeared, and full of twisting, turning streets. A foot soldier's worst nightmare.

  And this city was one of hundreds scattered across the surface of the planet. He didn't have enough troops to occupy them all so he'd been forced to concentrate his efforts on the area that both the experts and the computers thought was most promising. The situation was far from ideal but not especially unusual. The Il Ronnian empire was huge and Sand Sept officers rarely had all of the resources they needed.

  There was a burst of muted radio traffic from the com center, followed by the chatter of a power wrench, and the sound of some poorly played music.

  This was the way every world should be, Teex thought to himself. Logical, organized, and run according to the rules.

  A noncom stood at silent attention only feet away.

  "Reeg."

  "Sir!"

  "At ease, File Leader Reeg. Come inside. It's cold as hell out here."

  "Yes, sir."

  Reeg entered the shelter, took up a position in front of the desk, and waited for his superior officer to sit down.

  Teex waved toward the right side of the tent. "There's some folding chairs over there. Grab one and take a load off."

  Reeg's tail signaled his thanks. The chair opened to his touch. A slot ran from the front of the chair toward the back. The noncom sat down and his tail slid through the slot to reappear over his left shoulder.

  Teex opened a desk drawer, removed a pressure flask, and sprayed foaming malp into a pair of dirty mugs. He placed one in front of Reeg. "Drink up, File Leader. It'll put a point on your tail."

  Reeg grinned at the old saying. "Yes, sir." The noncom took a sip of the piping hot brew and felt warmth seep into every nook and cranny of his body. "That hit the spot, sir. Thanks."

  Teex nodded and regarded Reeg over his mug. He and the file leader had known each other for a long time. A relationship that had been forged on the field of battle and never broken.

  Teex had been a sixteenth commander then, the lowest form of officer life, and well aware of it.

  Reeg had been a trooper, fresh out of basic training, and scared shitless.

  Fate and circumstance had thrown the two of them together at the precise moment when the Alhathian barrage began.

  The Ilwik remembered a strong desire to urinate in his pants as the Alhathian auto mortars and artillery found their range and crept toward his sector. Crump. Crump. Crump!

  A crew-served heavy machine gun fired back in a futile attempt to suppress the assault that was sure to follow. Everyone else went deep.

  Sixteenth Commander Teex found a crater and tried to will himself down through the bottom of it. Water soaked the front of his uniform but he didn't care.

  The explosions came closer and closer until he wanted to scream, wanted to get up and run, wanted to die rather than wait any longer.

  And then it was there, a flash of white light followed by a ground-shaking crump!

  The explosion hurled bodies in every direction. Part of one splashed into the water next to Teex. It was a hand. He gagged and scrambled up the side of the crater to get away from it.

  The Alhatha charged. Strange looking creatures with too many joints and saucerlike eyes. The Il Ronnians fired at them, but there were far, far too many to kill.

  Teex looked around for some sort of help. A senior officer to tell him what to do, some unexpected reinforcements, anything that might turn the situation around.

  He saw the heavy machine gun. Dismounted, crewless, but apparently undamaged. Teex remembered a feeling of surprise as he ran toward it. Surprise and pleasure like a father seeing his son do something correctly.

  And then he was there lifting the gun onto its tripod and pumping a fresh round into the chamber. He thumbed the diagnostics switch, saw the lights flash red for "ready," and swung the barrel toward the enemy.

  They were closer now. An undulating horde that screamed through their gill-like neck slits and rolled over everything in their path. They were through the razor wire and into the mine field. Explosives crumped and dirt fountained upward as the front ranks died. The rest kept on coming. Teex pressed the triggers. Nothing!

  And then Reeg had appeared, a scared-looking youngster with a bandage around his head and dried vomit on the front of his chest.

  "The coolant, sir! 'Check the diagnostics, chamber a round, and release the coolant. Failure to release the coolant will render the weapon inoperable.'"

  Teex had grinned in spite of himself. Right out of the manual! Never mind the fact that he had chambered a round first and checked the diagnostics second. As long as he supplied the weapon with some coolant it should still work. He pulled the coolant release lever, pressed the triggers, and was rewarded with the heavy thud, thud, thud of outgoing lead.

  The Alhatha charge had wavered in the steel-jacketed wind, staggered, and come apart. But there were more where those came from. The night was long and hard.

  Reeg had stayed, feeding belts of ammo into the weapon, and covering the officer's back.

  So when the dawn finally came, and the sun had warmed their skin, they were something more than soldiers in the same army. They were friends. A relationship that endured to this day.

  "So," Teex said, waving his mug toward the world outside. "What did you think of the other night?"

  Both had been busy since the fight in the temple and hadn't seen each other.

  Reeg was silent for a moment. When he spoke it was as one professional to another. His voice held no trace of deference or apology. "We were overconfident and paid the price."

  The Ilwik's tail motioned no and his words reinforced it. "We were overconfident but someone else paid the price. Our troopers did that."

  Reeg sipped his malp. "Yes, sir. We won't make that mistake again. Besides, the bodies in the square will discourage the hot heads. Assuming they have any left."

  "I hope so," Teex said softly, "I certainly hope so. How 'bout those disk things? The ones the indigs wore on their foreheads. Anything to them?"

  Reeg reached into a pocket and withdrew the disk Teex had given him the night before. He dropped it onto the desk. It bounced, turned some circles, and settled onto scratched metal. Light winked off its surface.

  "Yes, sir. Quite a bit actually. The scientific types are still at it, but early indications are that the disks have the capacity to receive electronic signals, and route those signals to the appropriate part of the brain where they are 'heard' as words."

  Teex sat up in his chair. His tail signaled interest. The military applications were obvious.

  "Fascinating! Imagine an army in which the commanding officer could communicate brain-to-brain with each and every soldier!"

  Reeg nodded dutifully. He could, and already had. The problem would be to find a high-ranking officer with enough b
rains to make the exercise worthwhile. The Sand Sept Command structure contained ten idiots for every officer like Teex.

  The Ilwik leaned back in his chair. "Interesting. Very interesting. A receiver implies a transmitter, and a transmitter implies an operator. But who are they? A geek perhaps? The tall, skinny ones might have enough smarts for something like that."

  Reeg had his reply ready. "That's one possibility, sir. But there could be others as well. The techies think it would take a rather sophisticated computer to make the disks work. That raises the possibility of a sentient or semisentient artificial intelligence."

  Teex felt his pulse quicken. Could it be? There was no way to tell what knowledge might be locked away in such a device! Enough to give them a much needed edge over the humans? Possibly. And that meant his duty was clear.

  "I would like to see the technical report."

  "Yes, sir. They promised to deliver it first thing in the morning."

  "Excellent. If there is a computer I want it. And if there is an operator, then I want him or her too."

  "Yes, sir. Eighth Commander Zeeg and I have prepared a search plan. It awaits your approval."

  Teex grinned. He had lots of teeth and almost all of them showed. "Why bother? You should have my job, and I yours."

  Reeg's tail signaled amusement followed by a no.

  "No offense, sir, but I wouldn't take your job for all the rang on Imantha."

  Teex laughed. "The politics can be a pain at times. And that reminds me. Quarter Star Sept Commander Ceeq called this afternoon. He claims that an unidentified vessel down-warped, destroyed a number of his ships, and disappeared. I thought he was joking at first, but he beamed me some holos, and the battle was very real. Ceeq lost forty-six pilots and crew."

  Reeg sat up straight. "Humans? Pirates perhaps?"

  "No, this planet is way outside their empire, and ours too for that matter. We stumbled on it by accident and the odds against them finding it the same way are a million to one.

  "Besides, the geeks don't have anything on a par with this. The ship was huge, larger than a dreadnought, and armed with some sort of green blobs."

  Reeg's tail indicated doubt. "Green blobs?"

  Teex waved his mug. "I know, it sounds funny, but it wasn't. Whoever or whatever controls this thing used the blobs to break the Rock of Imantha in half.

  "And shortly after that one of the blobs detached itself from the ship and went dirtside. The navy tracked it all the way. The blob touched down a couple hundred standard units east of here."

  Reeg's tail signaled resignation. "And you want someone to take a look."

  Teex smiled. "Quarter Star Sept Commander Ceeq wants someone to take a look. He sent a flight of aerospace fighters into the area this afternoon. They bombed a village but no green blobs. He thinks an insertion team might do better. You know the drill. Shoot a couple of geeks and ask the rest of them some questions."

  "I'll lead the team myself."

  Teex picked up the disk and sent it spinning into the air. It landed in the palm of his hand. "Good. Keep me informed. The disks, the computer, and the ship could be related somehow."

  Reeg indicated agreement. He placed the mug on the desk and stood. "Thanks for the malp, sir. I'll see you when I return."

  Teex slipped the disk into his belt pouch.

  "Good hunting, File Leader. And remember to watch your tail."

  "You can count on that, sir. Good night."

  Teex remained in his chair for a while after Reeg had left, thinking and drinking the rest of his malp.

  Then he stood, made his way over to the cot, and stripped off his uniform. He hung the utility belt from the end of an interior support rod, draped his uniform over the back of a chair, and crawled under the blanket. He turned the heat up to level eight and fell asleep moments later.

  Outside, but not too far away, something stirred. It withdrew the tiny part of itself that had occupied the disk, made a note to reoccupy the device later, and went about its business. CXWB-40OFSN2 was a big planet and there was much to do.

  11

  Della tried to find a more comfortable position, couldn't, and was forced to accept the pointed piece of masonry that stuck into her side. The Il Ronnian bombs had turned the once pretty village into little more than rubble. Rubble that was full of ready-made if somewhat uncomfortable hiding places—like the cave that she and Pik currently occupied. She turned his way. Loose debris shifted away from her arms.

  "This is stupid. We could use this time to make weapons, cook up some explosives, or train the heavies to fight. We could hide in this cave for ten years without the Il Ronnians showing up."

  The long mournful wail of a death trumpet floated across the top of the hill. They couldn't see it from the inside of the cave but a funeral was in progress. The nineteenth funeral that morning. Twenty-seven villagers had died during the Il Ronnian bombing attack. The aerospace fighters had attacked the village. Some of the survivors were hidden in the rubble. The rest were burying their dead.

  Lando shrugged. The motion caused some dirt to dribble down his neck. Della had designed the ambush herself so he didn't take her comments all that seriously. "Well, Cy is cooking up some explosives. Or he's trying to, anyway."

  The smuggler looked at his wrist term. "And according to Dru-2l, the Il Ronnians will arrive any moment now."

  Della made a face. "Get real. How would he know that? These people have no command and control, no training cadre, no troops, no weapons, and no intelligence apparatus. So how could they have access to information like that?"

  "Listen," Lando replied calmly, "isn't that the sound of an engine?"

  The death trumpet stopped in mid-note and Della cocked her head. Sure enough, there was the sound of an engine, and the distinctive whop, whop, whop of helicopter blades. The Il Ronnians were right on time.

  She smiled. "You think you're pretty smart, don't you?"

  He grinned. "Dru-21 and Wexel-15 have a little something up their sleeves, that's all. Remember the computer they call 'God'? Well, it told them. Sol only knows how it found out. Give me a kiss."

  She did and then both of them turned their attention to the world outside.

  Their view was somewhat restricted. All they could see were piles of rubble, what had been the town square, and the fields beyond.

  The square was large enough to accommodate a helicopter or air car. And due to the fact that the area was relatively clear of debris, it made a tempting LZ. A combat-experienced pilot would avoid it like the plague.

  But Della hoped the Il Ronnian pilot would be either a novice, or a more experienced sort, who would see what she wanted him to see: a demoralized group of villagers burying their dead. They'd soon know if she was right.

  The chopper had come in low, and skimmed just above the crops, so Lando got his first glimpse of the aircraft as it came up over the top of the hill.

  The Il Ronnian aircraft had a large boxy fuselage that bristled with rockets, auto cannon, and energy weapons. It hovered for a moment as the pilot scanned the hilltop for a place to land.

  Lando was forced to look down as the helicopter's enormous rotors drove waves of grit across the square. Suddenly he felt an emptiness where the bottom of his stomach should be. It was a stupid idea. There was no way that a couple of humans and some inexperienced heavies could take on the Sand Sept troopers and win. Especially when armed with little more than some rocks and a single handgun.

  That's the way Lando felt. His brain said something entirely different. It pointed out that if they wanted weapons, then the best place to get them was from the Il Ronnians themselves. A time honored technique used by insurgents everywhere. The only problem was that it was damned hard to do. Lando wished that he'd never agreed to the ambush.

  Reeg sat between the pilot and the co-pilot. He looked out through scratched plastic. The aerospace fighters had reduced the village to little more than rubble. He couldn't see a single wall that stood more than head high. This sort
of wholesale destruction would have to end if they wanted to find the computer intact. He made a note to mention it to Teex.

  A group of villagers watched from lower down the hillside. He saw a motorized cart loaded with bundles. Bundles about the size and shape of bodies. A funeral then, or the geek equivalent. Something about the scene, about the way that the geeks watched them, bothered Reeg, but he couldn't put a name on it. The pilot interrupted his thoughts.

  "How about the open space? It is either that or the flatlands down below."

  Reeg was pulled in two directions. The town square looked too good, too obvious, the sort of place that screamed "ambush."

  But the flatlands were unappealing as well. The lower part of the hillsides, the part where the crops ended, were almost entirely bare.

  What if they got halfway up the hill and ran into an ambush? The insertion team would be easy meat from up above. But that was stupid. The geeks didn't have weapons or the knowledge to use them if they did. Still, there was the incident in the temple to consider, and only a fool makes the same mistake twice. Reeg turned to the pilot.

  "We will land in the open space. But strafe it first. That should spring the trap if there is one."

  The pilot nodded, unlocked his auto cannons, and squeezed the trigger mounted on his stick.

  There was a roar of sound and as the helicopter shook, twin streams of tracer hit the rubble and threw up fountains of dirt and dust.

  The pilot was good. He walked the cannon fire all over the hilltop by nosing up and down while simultaneously rotating the chopper on its axis. The fire stopped as suddenly as it began.

  The cannon fire produced a huge cloud of dust. It drifted toward the west. Reeg watched carefully but saw no signs of movement or return fire. The ruins were what they appeared to be. Ruins and nothing more. The pilot looked his way and the file leader nodded.

  The ship moved forward, flared slightly, and landed with a noticeable thump. The side doors were open and the first members of the insertion team had already spilled out when it came to him.