Firemask: Book Two of the Last Legion Series (19 page)

BOOK: Firemask: Book Two of the Last Legion Series
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CHAPTER
13

“Son of a bitch,” Garvin said devoutly. “I always thought ol’ Ben was immortal.”

“So did he,” Njangu said. “Guess you were both wrong.”

“I suppose the Musth ain’t gonna stop shooting long enough to let us drink him under,” Monique Lir said.

“Not likely,” Njangu agreed. “But when they do stop, there’ll be a bunch of other crunchies with him for the wake, so we can really toast our brains.”

“What a joy and a comfort you are,” Garvin said, as an alarm on the bunker’s concrete wall blared and the three ran toward their alert stations.

• • •

This time the Musth came in by sea, sending their
wynt
skidding low over the water, using Leggett City as a shield to keep Force gunners from opening up on them.

Velv
and
aksai
flashed overhead, looking for targets, but found few in the smoking rubble.

“All missile stations,”
Caud
Rao ordered. “Make your launches count. Gun stations, aim low. A splash is as good as a direct hit.”

They were.
Wynt
slammed into water bursts that flowered up, the sea as solid as concrete when a ship smashed into it. Other
wynt
pilots’ nerves broke, and they climbed for a bit of altitude, exposing vulnerable undersides.

Force missile launchers popped up, launched, vanished back underground before counterstrikes could be made.

Only a scattering of
wynt
made it to the beach and disgorged their warriors, some of whom found shelter with their pinned-down brothers.

Force snipers and two-man SSW teams crawled out of spider holes and opened fire. The Musth shot back — but they were on the Force’s home grounds, and generally found few targets.

Frustration begat anger begat rage, and Musth got careless — and more joined their fellows in death.

Yet another Musth attack was stopped before it had begun.

• • •

“You have our concern,” Wlencing’s chief aide, Rahfer said.

Wlencing glanced from the screen he was studying to Rahfer and another aide, Daaf.

“There is a gap in the continuity without him,” he admitted. “But Alikhan is not the first cub of mine to die in battle, and we all die in our time. It is more important that he died well, and coming from my loins, I know he did.”

Rahfer moved a paw in agreement.

“Now he is of the past, and not part of any equation,” Wlencing said. “We should be devoting ourselves to ending this absurd situation.

“I do not believe these men can fight this handily. Certainly we saw nothing of this before, when they fought against the worms who called themselves ‘Raum.”

“Perhaps that is the answer,” Daaf said. “Perhaps they fight well with a worthier foe.”

“That is the rankest sentimentality,” Wlencing scoffed. “And not worth discussing. What is important is that they have caused great losses among our warriors.”

“Almost a quarter of our fighters,” agreed Rahfer.

“We could deploy nuclear devices,” Daaf suggested.

“Not to be considered,” Wlencing said scornfully. “What are the chances of radiation striking any of the cities they fight close to? Even Leggett could be easily contaminated by winds from a strike against their base island. And I am not sure, as well entrenched as they are, such devices would have significant effect.

“Remember, we need these men for when the fighting is over, to work the mines, and other services.”

“Why don’t they come out and fight, as warriors should?” Daaf grumbled. Rahfer was about to show agreement when Wlencing’s ears cocked, and his eyes reddened.

“You do not serve me by serving or speaking foolishly! Why should you expect anyone to fight on your terms, under your conditions, if he is capable of doing damage in other ways?”

“Still,” Daaf said, unconvinced, “this is not honorable.”

“I will admit to that,” Wlencing said. He looked back at the screen, showing the swirling destruction on Chance Island. Other screens showed the battles around Aire, Taman City, Kerrier. “It is also primitive, the way groundworms fight to keep from being pulled from their burrows. It is time for a change in our strategy.

“We have two choices, I think. We can wait them out, in this battle they call, in their language, a ‘sssiege,’ keeping a constant pressure on them. I do not like this, because it assumes a probable continuation of the casualty rate we have been taking.

“But I have been studying some of their histories. There is another way to fight this war, and if it lacks honor, so does their fighting, as we have agreed.

“And after all, these men cannot understand real honor, can they?”

• • •

“I cannot believe this,” Jasith said.

“Darling, you’re being utterly naive,” Loy said. “They’re aliens, animals. So of course that’s the way they fight.”

“I’m not talking about the Musth,” Jasith snapped. “I believe they’re capable of anything, so nothing from them surprises me. What I don’t believe is the way you’re jumping in bed with them so happily, like you can’t wait to do whatever they want next.”

“I’ll tell you this again,” Kouro said. “We don’t have any choice. Our stupid soldiers are over there on their island, bottled up, so they’re no good to us. What am I supposed to do? Tell the Musth to shove it? How long after I did that do you think it’d be before they shut my holo down and put all my people out of work?”

“Isn’t it strange,” Jasith said, not looking at her husband. “Rich people always seem to have the same way of talking. Something they don’t like isn’t bad for them, but for their employees. You’d think we got the way we are by bleeding anytime somebody said widows and orphans.”

“What do you think we’re supposed to do?” Loy demanded. “What would
you
do, if you were me?”

Jasith considered an answer, discarded it, found another.

“I’d let them close me down rather than give them the cameras and crews so everybody in the system is forced to look at what they’re going to do next.”

Kouro shook his head.

“Your father wouldn’t believe you’re talking like this. He built an empire, and damned well would’ve died before surrendering one millimeter of it.”

“I think you can leave my father well out of this,” Jasith said. “If he were alive, I think he’d be over there, with the quote stupid end quote soldiers. Or at any rate, trying to figure out some way to help them.”

“Well, aren’t
you
Miss Resistance herself,” Kouro sneered. “And what are you doing, I might ask? Besides sitting up here in your mansion wringing your hands? Perhaps you’d like to throw a benefit tea for the Force? Or maybe roll bandages, like I read they did in olden times?”

Jasith stared out the window, across the bay at the murk around Chance Island. She could see diving Musth aircraft and, every now and then, hear the dull blast of a distant explosion.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know. But I’m going to do something.”

“That’ll be very bright,” Kouro said. “I can’t wait to see my wife’s name on the Musth Enemy List.”

• • •

“They’re taking hostages,” Mil Rees, CO of First Regiment said grimly. The tight beam between Aire and the Force’s base blurred, then refirmed. “They took thirty in Aire, they’ve announced, and said there’d be others taken in other cities. I’m surprised it hasn’t hit Leggett yet.”

“Have they announced any intents?”
Caud
Rao asked. Rees shook her head.

“Nothing, sir. But all the holos say there’ll be a broadcast tomorrow at midday.”

Rao looked at Angara, Hedley, soliciting opinions.

“Keep the troops away from the holo sets,” Hedley said. “Whatever it is, it won’t be good.”

It wasn’t.

• • •

“This is
Matin’s
Aire Bureau, broadcasting live,” the toneless, off-screen voice said. “We are ‘casting on the direct orders of the Musth.”

The screen showed a high, blank concrete wall. After a moment, there was an off-screen
thud
of a steel door slamming open. Fifteen men and women moved onscreen. They looked frightened, confused, and were staring about.

“These fifteen,” the voice continued, “are hostages seized by the Musth, and are considered by them leaders of Cumbre.”

A mike clicked closed, and another voice, this one Musth, came on.

“Becaussse of the continuing fighting, it hasss been decccided that all humansss in the sssytem onccce known asss Cumbre are to be held resssponsssive, in other wordsss, to be consssidered criminalsss.

“The fighting mussst end immediately.

“If it doesss not, all humansss held by usss will meet the end decccided by our leadersss.”

The people on-screen had a moment to show fear, and then devourer-weapons opened fire. Blood gouted, bodies contorted, and then the crawling worms began their final destruction.

The camera held steady until the last body stopped moving.

• • •

Garvin looked away from the screen, saw Njangu’s face, trying hard to hold the same dispassion.

“Within a ssshort time,” the voice continued, “if the fighting isss not ended, othersss will die, asss we promisssed. Further prisssonersss will then be taken.”

“I wonder what reaction the CO’ll have to this?” Garvin said.

Before Njangu could respond, their bunker’s PA set opened.

“This is
Caud
Rao. All Force personnel are advised we are launching an attack against the Musth immediately. There can be no negotiation.”

“Guess that’s the answer,” Garvin said.

“Not enough of one,” Njangu said. “I want to do something really nasty back at them.

“And a little bit more direct, maybe.”

• • •

The Legion attack came from space, from one of the manned stations on Fowey, D-Cumbre’s largest moon, that the invaders had missed, since most of it was far underground, concerned with seismic development on satellites.

A research ship had its forward spaces packed with mining explosives, and a fairly simple homing device installed. The ship launched, and drove at speed “down” toward the planet.

Its two-man crew huddled nervously over high-magnification screens as the planet grew and grew. The screens centered on the airspace above Chance Island.

“There,” the woman commander said. “That’s one of their mother ships.”

“Got it,” the man announced. “Tracking … locked … let’s get the hell out!”

The two ran for the lifecraft coupled to the nearest lock, dived into it, and shot away from the doomed research ship, clawing up for empty space.

They almost made it, but they showed up on an
aksai’s
screens. The pilot launched a spread of missiles, and the tiny ship blew up.

Two seconds later, the research ship smashed into the Musth mother ship, and, for an instant, there was a new sun in C-Cumbre’s sky.

But that wasn’t enough.

• • •

“One man, sorry, one Musth, leadership, right, Jon?” Njangu asked.

“So it appears,” Hedley said.

“Which would be this Wlencing?”

“Probably.”

“Here’s what I want,” Njangu said, and explained. Hedley considered.

“Sure,” he said. “That takes no signal analysis other’n a flipping abacus. But you and I&R won’t be able to mount the operation.”

“Why not?” Garvin asked. “We slither out from here, and — ”

“And probably get blown out of the sky before you get a klick,” Hedley responded. “No. We do this another way.”

• • •

The Musth tried another tactic. Heavy rockets, semi-guided, not unlike the Force’s Furies, but far larger, were wave-launched against Chance Island. The ground shook, shimmered as blast waves crisscrossed the ruins.

But only a handful of Force women and men died.

Underground it was dusty, dry, claustrophobic. But it was better than being on the surface.

Camp Mahan continued to hold.

• • •

“Well,” Hedley said, “this flipping Wlencing isn’t a total idiot.”

“Close, though,” Njangu said. “Doesn’t seem to worry about a general staff, or any kind of subordinating command. We act, he’s the one who calls for the reaction.”

“Close enough to get killed, I hope,” Hedley said. “We’re mounting the shot in an hour. No missiles — Rao doesn’t want to chance they’ve got spoofers. Cross your fingers.”

Njangu shook his head.

“I don’t believe in luck. The other guy’s the one who’s usually got it.”

• • •

The two converted speedsters had only one weapon apiece, both huge, hastily constructed bombs. They took off from the secret airbase on Mullion Island just before dawn, made several jigs to confuse their point of origin, then flew very low, and very slowly, east-northeast across the open water toward Dharma Island, spray slashing up in their wake. They maintained electronic silence, and made visual contact with Dharma just as the sun was lightening the skies. They climbed as they came over the beach, but held bare meters above the jungle.

Ahead, the ground rose toward the great plateau of the Highlands, and mist swirled in front of them. They prayed their altimeters had height-adjusted correctly, navigated through the murk using Sat Positioning, not chancing radar, holding to less than twenty meters above the ground, just at 125kph, almost stalling speed.

Both navigators watched coordinated time ticks on the screens in front of them.

The commander finally spoke.

“Able.”

Both ships went to full secondary power, climbed sharply to two hundred meters, and turned their Target Acquisition radar on.

“Target acquired,” the first said.

“Got it, too,” came from the second.

“Beginning drop count,” the first said.

Njangu had figured if Wlencing was the Musth’s single commander, it should be simple to find a single source for signals. Technicians searched, and found a blare of coms. They came from the Highlands, where the Musth had their headquarters before the war started, emanating not from the clustered buildings, but about a kilometer south and east. Wlencing, as Hedley had said, wasn’t a complete fool. But he was overconfident. In spite of the Force’s worries, no antihoming stations had been built.

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