Andromeda's Fall (Legion of the Damned) (35 page)

Then the ship flipped sideways, and Kelly produced a whoop of joy as she sped past the same hill that McKee and Larkin had climbed two nights earlier. A few moments later the fly-form leveled out and rose slightly as a two-thousand-pound bomb fell away and tumbled toward the ground.

McKee knew the purpose of the ensuing explosion was to trick the Hudathans into believing that the ship had been destroyed. An impression Kelly would reinforce by engaging a pair of jury-rigged suppressors, which, if they worked, would conceal the heat produced by her engines.

But because the suppressors were designed for use by a smaller aircraft, they were sure to blow before very long—making it imperative to land as quickly as possible. Fortunately, the Droi encampment was only minutes from Riversplit by air. And as Sergeant McKee peered out through slitted eyes, she could feel the fly-form sinking as Kelly prepared to land. That was when she realized she was not only alive but likely to stay that way for a while.

Confident that she wasn’t about to reveal how frightened she had been, she opened her eyes, produced an elaborate yawn, and stretched her arms. Petit nodded. “Have a nice nap?”

McKee offered what she hoped was a nonchalant grin. “Hell, no. I dreamed I was on an assault boat piloted by a maniac.”

Those close enough to hear laughed as Kelly’s voice came over the intercom. “I heard that . . . Ten to dirt.”

The skids hit with a thud. The engines had begun to spool down as the hatch whirred open, allowing humid air to flood the cargo compartment. McKee released her harness and stood. The lights were dim, but there was no mistaking Avery’s countenance as he arrived at the top of the ramp and looked from face to face. She knew he was looking for her. A theory that was confirmed when he spotted her, and she saw the look of relief in his eyes.

But only for a moment. Then Avery was all business as McKee introduced the demolitions experts. Once that was accomplished, Avery thanked Insa and each member of the team before leading them off the fly-form.

Larkin and the T-1s were released at that point, but Avery asked Insa, McKee, and the demolition experts to join him around a small fire. The next couple of hours were spent bringing the officer up to speed and discussing the mission.

Finally, once the meeting was over, and the others were gone, McKee and Avery were alone. The sun was rising by then, and eyes were everywhere, so they couldn’t touch. But they could talk, and did. “What you did was crazy,” Avery began disapprovingly.

“I couldn’t figure out any other way to get the job done,” McKee replied simply.

“And now you’re a sergeant.”

“A very inexperienced one, but a sergeant, yes.”

“Well, Sergeant, I have news for you.
Good
news.”

“Which is?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.”

The Droi had been working to camouflage Kelly’s fly-form for hours by then, and it was half-covered by a blanket of freshly cut vegetation. The greenery would turn brown within two rotations, however, which meant that it would have to be renewed, or the Droi would have to abandon their encampment. Having agreed to the second option, hundreds of indigs were already streaming into the forest as Avery led her into a small clearing. Two mounds of recently dug earth could be seen lying side by side. Only one of them was distinguished by a wooden marker. “There they are,” Avery said. “Spurlock and Jivv.”

It took McKee a moment to absorb the news. Spurlock and Jivv really were dead—just as she had hoped. “How did you find them?”

“I didn’t,” Avery replied. “A Droi hunting party brought them in. Spurlock was dead, having refused an opportunity to surrender, and Jivv was alive.”

She looked from Avery to the graves and back again.
“Was?”

“I shot it,” Avery said simply. “Twice.”

McKee looked at him. What he felt was clear to see. He had a motive to kill Jivv just as she did. But he’d been trying to protect her as well. And that brought all sorts of emotions into play. Suddenly, she was in his arms, knowing that they shouldn’t kiss, and knowing that they would. As their bodies came together, and their lips met, a bird chattered somewhere up above. And for that brief moment in time, McKee was happy.

CHAPTER: 18

In battle, however, there are not more than two methods of attack—the direct and the indirect; yet these two in combination give rise to an endless series of maneuvers.

SUN TZU

The Art of War

Standard year circa 500
B.C
.

PLANET ORLO II

Most Droi lived to be about seventy years of age unless disease or some other misfortune took them earlier. And Aba was sixty-five. An age when it was increasingly difficult to run, climb, or hunt. Because of that, Aba and the other elders were always the last to leave the current encampment and arrive at the next one. And old age had taught Aba to accept many things, including the role of guardian for its progeny’s progeny, a child named Ola. An energetic youngster who was hard to keep track of.

The warriors and the humans had left the day before, leaving the very old and the very young to follow along behind. Except that Aba couldn’t follow without Ola—and the little rascal was missing. That left Aba with no choice but to shoulder the animal-hide pack, sling its ancient rifle, and wander through the mostly deserted encampment calling the little one’s name. “Ola? Can you hear me? It’s time to leave.”

Finally, after ten minutes of searching, Aba heard a high-pitched voice. “I’m over here, Aba . . . Eating telsa berries.”

Telsa berries were sweet when ripe and a favorite among juveniles. Aba followed the voice into a clearing where it looked around. Ola was nowhere to be seen. “I’m up here!” Ola shouted. And sure enough, there it was, up in a Telsa tree.

“Come down,” Aba ordered sternly, “and I mean
now
.”

Ola knew that tone of voice and quickly slid to the ground. Then, with berry juice still smeared all over its face, the child apologized. “Sorry, Aba. Can I carry something for you?”

Aba had just opened its mouth to reply when a hand shot up out of the ground and took hold of Ola’s ankle. A head, torso, and arms appeared as the youngster screamed and tried to pull away. The thing
looked
human; but Aba knew it wasn’t human because the Droi had seen the creature before. Right after the hunters brought it in and immediately before the human shot it in the head. The bullet holes were still visible. But now, by some means Aba couldn’t understand, the machine had come back to life.

Aba pointed the rifle and jerked the trigger. The firing pin fell on an empty chamber. For reasons of safety, all weapons not carried by guards were kept unloaded while the Droi were staying in an encampment. Aba was reaching for a magazine when the monster spoke. “Don’t move. I’ll kill the child if you do.”

Aba watched in horror as it rose from the grave. Dirt cascaded off the creature as it stood. “But you dead,” Aba objected. “I see human kill.”

“It took a while for my systems to repair themselves,” Jivv replied as the robot looked around. “Where did all of your people go? I see very few heat signatures.”

“They go to dam,” Ola said brightly.

Aba cursed silently. The Droi had planned to give the machine directions to an imaginary encampment and send it off into the forest. That was impossible now. And while a Droi or a human might have asked, “What dam?” the machine seemed to know.

“What about the humans?” it demanded. “Did they go to the dam as well?”

Aba had no choice and nodded mutely.

The machine gestured for the Droi to come closer. “Give me the rifle and ammunition.”

Aba remained where it was. “And then?”

“Then I will free the child, and we go our separate ways.”

Aba didn’t like it. Not one little bit. But what choice did it have? Slowly, step by step, the oldster moved forward. The machine let go of Ola in order to accept the rifle and ammunition. The child scampered away. “What do?” Aba inquired.

“I’m going to find fugitive 2999 and kill her,” Jivv replied. And with that, the Synth started to run.

* * *

The sun was past its zenith, and rays of dusty sunshine slanted down through the trees as about fifteen hundred Droi and forty-two legionnaires made their way through the forest. It was relatively slow going because of Avery’s decision to avoid the jungle trails. McKee understood his logic. As she knew from personal experience, the Hudathans routinely sent drones along any path they could identify, and based on reports from Droi scouts, the ridge heads were placing tiny sensor packages along the most-traveled thoroughfares. A strategy that was bound to produce thousands of high-def wildlife photos. Of course, computers could and would be employed to sort through the incoming images for those that had intelligence value.

So even though each individual was forced to pursue a zigzag course through the trees, and to consume more energy while doing so, McKee knew that the combined force was less likely to be spotted thanks to Avery’s approach. And the element of surprise would be critical to success.

Such were her thoughts as she and her squad followed a contingent of Droi warriors in a northwesterly direction. The trees limited what she could see, so most of the battalion was invisible to her and, if the strategy was working, to the enemy as well.

There weren’t enough T-1s to go around, so the bio bods had been ordered to rotate. The idea was to keep the bio bods, especially the demolition experts, rested. And at the moment, she was walking while Petit rode Eason.

Of course, not all of her thoughts were strictly professional. Avery was on her mind as well. It felt good to have somebody in her life. But the pleasure came at a price. Because if Avery made her feel good, his existence represented a threat to her happiness as well. What if he were killed? As hundreds if not thousands would be.

To have established another emotional connection only to have it severed would be extremely hard to take. That’s why it was better to keep her distance from everyone. That and the fact that officers weren’t allowed to have romantic relationships with enlisted people. Especially subordinates.

But like a leaf that falls into a stream, McKee was powerless to control where she went or what happened next. All she could do was help blow the dam. Everything else was beyond her reach.

The afternoon wore on, and as the sun dropped lower in the sky, Avery ordered a halt. Although the Hudathans were still jamming, the squad-level push was working okay except for momentary bursts of static. So Avery was able to communicate his wishes to the legionnaires electronically, while Insa passed orders to his people via runners and shrill whistles. A system which, thanks to codes worked out over hundreds of years, was quite effective.

The battalion was about five miles short of the dam at that point. That meant they would have to march for a couple of hours early the next morning. But to camp any closer would be to risk detection from the drones that patrolled the area.

In keeping with orders given prior to departure, humans and Droi alike made hundreds of tiny one-, two-, and three-person camps. And other than well-contained tea fires, none of them were allowed to cook. All in an effort to conceal the battalion from the eyes in the sky.

But before McKee or her bio bods could eat, they had to perform maintenance on the T-1s. So it was an hour and a half later before they could break out their MREs, light a fuel tab, and heat their dinners. She didn’t know where Avery was—but thought he might drop by. He didn’t.

McKee felt a sense of disappointment, scolded herself for being so self-centered, and set out to make the rounds. Her squad included bio bods Larkin, Caskin, and a private named Donobi. The cyborgs who had accompanied her to Riversplit were still with her—and a T-1 named Farber had been added to the roster. That meant she had seven people to worry about plus Sergeant Petit, Corporal Muncy, and Private Yamada, who were not only attached to the squad but under her orders until they arrived at the dam. During the tour she stopped to talk with each individual and was pleased to find that morale was pretty good, all things considered.

The only thing that worried her was the fact that with more than fifteen hundred people spread out over what must have been a square mile of jungle, there was no defensive perimeter. But that couldn’t be helped because if the battalion were to create a marching camp, it would attract attention. All they could do was maintain a low profile and hope for the best.

Night always fell earlier in the forest, so it was nearly dark by the time McKee returned to the clearing where she had started. Her heart jumped when she saw that Avery was sitting with his back to a tree eating his dinner. He looked up and smiled as she approached. The words were formal, and had to be with members of her squad all about. But there was no denying the warmth in his eyes. “Welcome back, Sergeant . . . How are the troops?”

“Hower’s knee coupler is about ready for replacement,” McKee replied. “But it should hold up long enough to complete the mission. Other than that, all of our people are in good shape.”

Avery grinned. “Even Noll?”

“Private Noll is of the opinion that we could use a thousand additional troops.”

Avery nodded soberly. “And Private Noll is correct. But we’ll have to get along without them.”

McKee lowered herself to the ground and sat cross-legged. “Yes, sir. How are the Droi holding up?”

Avery made a face. “Insa’s people are doing well. But communication with the northern tribe is spotty—and the two groups have a long history of mutual animosity to overcome. So things are a bit dicey at times.”

McKee knew that could be a significant problem because the northerners were slated to attack first—and draw the Hudathans off the top of the dam and into the forest. An environment where the Droi warriors would have a much better chance to whittle the off-worlders down. Meanwhile, Avery’s battalion would attack from the south, sweep out onto the dam, and hold it long enough for the demolition team to do its work. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

Avery shrugged. “It will work or it won’t. All we can do is try. We’ll know how things went by this time tomorrow.”

McKee knew he wanted to say more but couldn’t. She looked him in the eye. “Watch your six, sir.”

Avery nodded. “You too, Sergeant. You too.”

* * *

Given what would be expected of them in the morning, Avery had allowed McKee’s squad to sleep uninterrupted. But doubts about her capacity to live up to her own expectations during the coming battle, and the knowledge that she might be dead in a few hours, prevented her from getting much rest. And Larkin’s snoring didn’t help either.

So when her wrist chrono began to beep, she was already awake. It was still dark and would be for hours yet. After stowing the sleep sack and brushing her teeth, she went out to make the rounds. Then, having assured herself that everyone was up, she forced herself to eat. It wasn’t easy because her stomach felt queasy, but she knew that her body was going to need fuel.

After eating what she could and mustering her squad, McKee waited for the order to move out. It was supposed to come at 0400. But that hour came and went with nothing except static on the radio. Finally, at 0417, Avery’s voice flooded her helmet. “Echo-Nine to Echo-Four. Over.”

McKee chinned the transmit switch. “This is Four . . . Over.”

“Our friends were running late,” Avery said matter-of-factly. “But they’re in position. You can move out. Over.”

The northerners had clearly been operating on what the humans privately referred to as “Droi time.” “Roger that,” McKee replied. “Moving out. Over.”

Colonel Rylund and his staff had done a masterful job of anticipating what the combined force would need in order to carry out their mission. And that included hundreds of glow sticks that had been loaded onto Kelly for the flight south—and subsequently distributed to the Droi scouts. Having activated the luminescent rods and stuck them down the back of their waistbands, selected warriors could lead the rest of the force forward in spite of the darkness. And given how critical their functions were, McKee and her people had their own contingent of scouts whose sole responsibility was to guide the legionnaires to their objective.

McKee’s job was to follow the bobbing lights, keep her squad closed up tight, and deliver the demolition team to the target. The task sounded simple. But she discovered that it was difficult to distinguish
her
scouts from the others, some of whom were slated to veer off in different directions. So she called the warriors back and issued each one of them an additional glow rod. That made the task of identifying them much easier as the battalion crept forward.

It took more than an hour to reach the first checkpoint, which was a quarter mile short of the dam. Then it was time to go to ground and wait until given the order to advance. McKee followed Wellington’s advice to “Piss when you can,” eyed her chrono, and wondered what Avery was doing.

* * *

Avery was at the very front of the formation, with Insa at his side. The dam had been built across a narrow gorge, and as the first blush of dawn appeared in the east, they could look down on it from a rocky promontory directly to the south. Two Hudathan sentries had been stationed there, and both had been killed by arrows launched from twenty feet away. That was how close the jungle-savvy Droi could come without being detected. But the sentries would be missed, so the clock was ticking as Avery studied the structure in front of him.

He’d seen it all before, of course, but only secondhand, via the electronic images that McKee had brought back from Riversplit. But his current angle was different, and he could see more detail. Thanks to the documentation provided by Rylund’s staff, Avery knew he was looking at an arch-gravity dam. Meaning a dam that curves upstream, thereby pushing most of the water against the walls of the canyon. It was a strategy calculated to compress and strengthen the dam.

A semicircular road sat atop the dam, and six Hudathan AA batteries were positioned along it. They hadn’t been present in the preinvasion satellite photos he’d seen, so it was clear that defenses had been improved in the wake of the first attack on the dam. Plenty of troops could be seen even at that early hour. After a quick head count, Avery concluded that there were at least 150 Hudathans on top of the bridge—and it seemed safe to assume that there were at least that many inside it. Airborne drones were visible as well, sniffing about like so many hound dogs, searching for a scent. Insa interrupted Avery’s train of thought by touching his arm. “Northern tribe ready.”