Starfist: Wings of Hell (16 page)

Sergeant Saber, the team leader, didn’t care that he and his Marines were relatively immune to the Skink acid; if they were detected their mission had failed. He didn’t want the mission to fail. His men felt the same.

The AstroGhost dropped the four Marines a few klicks beyond the reverse slope of the mountain where the
Broward County
had detected Skink activity. The mountain wasn’t high enough to project above what passed for a tree line on Haulover but had reasonably well-wooded slopes. It took the four Marines an hour to reach the mountain and another hour to scale it to a pass, but they didn’t attempt to use the pass, opting instead to climb above it. That turned out to be a wise decision—they discovered a squad-size observation post covering the pass. Saber used his Universal Positionator Up-Downlink (UPUD) to report the observation post as soon as his team was in a defile and it was in no danger of detection.

They moved more slowly on the front side of the mountain. While they saw—and easily evaded—two small security patrols moving through the forest and saw signs of others, they didn’t find any passive security devices.

And then they found a midsize clearing, about two hundred meters on its long axis and somewhat more than half that on the short axis, right where the string-of-pearls-guided you-are-here on Saber’s heads-up display map said it was. The Marines backed up and took to the trees, climbing to about fifteen meters above the ground, high enough to let them look down into the clearing. Saber assigned Lance Corporal Hagen to watch the rear, which Hagen did by alternating through his magnifier and infra screens.

About fifty Skinks were evident in the clearing. Some of them were playing a sport that involved a ball being hit by a stick; it was slow-moving with occasional running around. Most of the rest of the Skinks were watching the game, some cheering, some groaning, having evidently picked sides. Many of the Skinks, including half the players, were shirtless, and many were barefoot. The lines of closed gill slits were visible on the sides of the shirtless ones. Few weapons of any sort were in evidence. The Marines watched for several minutes and saw numerous brown rats scurrying about the edges of the clearing, some even going in and out of the cave.

Saber checked with Hagen to verify that the rear was secure, then climbed down to the ground and input the final programming for two minnies, which he then released. Back in the tree, he watched as the minnies emerged from the forest and headed for the cave mouth.

His heart lurched when he saw a Skink throw something at a rat at the forest edge, then dart toward it with a cry of triumph. The Skink picked up the barely moving rat by its tail and held it aloft for its comrades to admire. Others gathered around the Skink and its trophy, cheering and pummeling its back. Then they began to chant. The rat must have been merely stunned by the blow, because it suddenly began squirming, struggling to get loose. The Skink holding it flipped it upward by its tail and bit its head off as its companions cheered lustily. Blood spurted from the rat’s neck, and Saber felt relief; the rat wasn’t one of his minnies. But he didn’t relax fully, because he now knew the recon robots were in danger of detection by the Skinks. He had to report that to Staff Sergeant Wu, who would notify the other teams.

After a few more minutes, the Skinks returned to their game, although whether the same Skinks resumed play or some were replaced by others he couldn’t say.

Motion at the forest edge caught his eye, and he turned his head as two rats slipped out from under the trees and scurried to the cave mouth, then disappeared inside it. He thought it pretty obvious that the two rats were his minnies. He prepared a report to Wu at Marine House in Sky City stating that his team had arrived at their objective and had it under observation, and on the Skink catching and killing the rat. He tight-beamed the report to the string-of-pearls, then settled down to watch and wait.

Over the course of the next five hours, the recon Marines observed several changes of Skinks outside the cave. Saber would have been exaggerating if he’d said the Skinks all looked alike to him, but he couldn’t easily tell their faces apart, certainly not at the distance he was viewing them, even with his magnifier screen. But he could easily see that they didn’t look like clones of one another, that there were subtle differences among the faces, just as there were among faces of the Marines in the recon squad. Their body types and skin coloration, though, were far more uniform than those of the Marines, which suggested to him that the Skinks were from a more homogeneous population. He wished his team had face-recognition equipment such as Force Recon had and, as far as he knew, hadn’t used when they observed the Skinks before the arrival of Thirty-fourth FIST at Haulover.

Anyway, even without the means to identify individual faces, he was pretty certain that every replacement group of Skinks was a new group of individuals. Going by that, he and his men saw about three hundred different Skinks outside the cave.

He looked at the string-of-pearls map downloaded to his UPUD and saw that other, smaller clearings in the vicinity also had Skinks in them. He suspected they were from the same cave complex and that he was looking over what might be the primary entrance.

At intervals slightly longer than the rotation of Skinks into the open air, six or seven Skink patrols went out or returned to the cave. None of them came close enough to detect the Marines by whatever means it was that allowed the Skinks to spot chameleoned Marines.

After eight hours, with the sun lowering toward the western horizon, two rats came out of the cave mouth and skittered to the forest edge. Several minutes later, Saber heard scrabbling at the foot of his tree. It was the two minnies. He signaled his men, and they climbed down. He put one of the recon robots in his own pocket and gave the other to Corporal Soldatcu to carry. The Marines then headed toward their pickup location, reaching it an hour after sunset. The AstroGhost picked them up soon after, and in another hour they were back at Marine House along with the other recon teams. During the flight, Ensign Daly had had them upload their minnies’ data to the string-of-pearls. At Marine House they began studying the recordings themselves.

The caves all seemed to be as massively developed and populated as the first one Force Recon had reconned.

“There must be a couple hundred thousand of them,” someone murmured.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Gentlemen, I’ll give you”—Gobels paused, pretending to think his offer over—“let’s say, five hundred credits each to bring me the child.”

Gooden Ashcake glanced sideways at his two friends and scuffed one foot in the dirt. As the spokesman for Adner Shackelford and Linney Liggons, he had to make the negotiations look good, but
five hundred credits
? Why, a man could live like a king for a whole year in Wellfordsville on that kind of money! “Ah dunno, sir,” he answered, pulling on an ear. “Ah dunno,” he repeated.

“We din’t come all the way out here to Jack’s Shop fer enny five hunnert credits, Mr. Gobbles,” Linney said.

“Please,” Gobels smiled pleadingly, “it’s
Doctor Gobels
! I’m a pure scientist! I have academic degrees, you know.”

“I knows pure corn likker, ’n thet’s all!” Linney cackled, seeking approbation from his colleagues with a nudge. He thought that riposte unbelievably witty and that it put him one up on the fancy-doctor scientist. But Adner and Gooden remained unimpressed. Here he was, Linney Liggons, matching wits with a
scientist
fella and all those boys could do was dream about what five hundred would get them at Verne’s place!
Damned hicks,
he thought,
went right over their heads.
“Well, what I mean, Mr. Doctor there, is thet woman’s never wifout her shotgun, ’n ah don’t hanker after gettin’ shot fer no five hunnert.”

“How well we know,” Pensy Fogel muttered.

“Whazzat?” Gooden asked.

“Nothing, nothing, my good man,” Gobels answered. He scratched his nose. “Well, the woman does go about armed with that ancient fowling piece—”

Linney nudged Adner and whispered, “Knowin’ her, she keeps that scattergun clean as a whistle! No fouling on thet piece. Shows ya how much these city folks knows about us folks ’n our firearms.”

“I’ll tell you what, gentlemen, I’ll give you a thousand apiece, five hundred each right this moment and the rest when you bring me the child. How’s that?”

“I’ll be a double-cunted cow pissin’ on a flat rock!” Gooden shouted, slapping his thigh with one hand and extending the other to shake on it. “Thousand credits fer a night’s work! Damn! You got yer-self a deal, Mr. Doctor!”

Gobels smiled warmly as he shook hands all round. Pensy Fogel counted out the advance money. Back in Fargo five hundred credits would buy a decent supper in a second-class hash house.

Their plan was simple. Plan A: Linney would approach Treemonisha’s cabin with a box saying it was supplies sent out from Wellfordsville by Tanner Hastings. When she opened the door they’d jump her and take the kid straight back to Jack’s Shop and collect the remaining five hundred credits. Plan B: There was no Plan B and Plan A didn’t quite work out.

Treemonisha’s chickens gave them away before they were within fifty meters of the cabin door. It burst open and there she stood, shotgun leveled at the trio. “What you no-goods want here at this hour?” she thundered.

At first Linney was so startled he forgot his lines for a moment. “Well, Miz Giddin’s, we is bringin’ yew sum supplies from Tanner’s place,” he finally got out. He could plainly see the child peeking out from behind her skirts.
Damn,
he thought,
shore does look jist like a Shackelford, that kid!

“What you grinnin’ at, you damn fool?” Treemonisha shouted. “I ain’t ordered no supplies! Now git th’ hell off’n my property!”

Linney took several steps forward but stopped cold as Treemonisha cocked a hammer on her shotgun. “M-Miz Giddin’s,” he stammered, “no need fur thet! We is jist followin’ Tanner’s orders!” Linney squeaked.

Gooden Ashcake stepped forward, elbowing Linney aside. “Now see here, Treemonisha, quit this foolishness! We is jist helpin’ Tanner out by deliverin’ this here box o’ goodies—”

“I ain’t ordered no goodies,” she replied, cocking the other hammer.

“Ah
said,
stop thet, woman! You is liable to git someone hurt!” Gooden snatched the box out of Linney’s hands and advanced quickly to the steps. He thrust the box out at Treemonisha. He got then a good look at the kid.
Well, damn my eyes,
he thought,
thet thar kid is a gawdam Liggons if I ever saw one! Ol’ Linney’s been out here by his self fer sartin shore!

He thrust the box upward suddenly and lunged forward. Both barrels of the shotgun discharged with a tremendous roar, blasting a big hole in the roof and leaving his ears ringing, but Treemonisha reeled backward, stumbled, and fell with a crash so hard she was momentarily stunned. In that instant Gooden stepped forward and snatched Moses by the back of his shirt. He whirled, holding a struggling Moses high in one hand, and shouting,
“Eeeeeehaaaawww!”
His two companions, startled at how quickly the action had unfolded, just stood there, transfixed.

Suddenly Adner’s eyes grew large as saucers, his mouth fell open, and he pointed a shaking finger at the house. But it was too late. Treemonisha slammed into Gooden Ashcake so hard that Moses flew into the air and plopped down into the dust right at Linney Liggons’s feet. But Gooden, with Treemonisha on top of him, slammed hard into the dust with a lung-bursting
“Ooofff!”

“Run, Moses, run!”
Treemonisha screamed as she banged Gooden’s head into the dust.

“Gawdam!” Gooden shouted around a mouthful of dirt.

“Git ’im, git ’im!” Adner yelled. Linney scrambled after Moses, but the little Skink was fast on his stubby legs. While Gooden struggled to get out from underneath Treemonisha, Adner and Linney chased Moses around the yard, raising a cloud of dust so thick they ran smack into each other. “Yew gawdam fool!” Linney raged, getting to his feet. “Th’ lit’l bastard’s gettin’ away!”

“Faster ’n a gawdam chicken afore Sunday dinner!” Adner gasped.

“Gawdamit, git off’n me, yew tub o’—” Gooden yelled up at Treemonisha. The pair flailed away at each other in the dust.

“Run, Moses, run!”
Treemonisha screamed, in spite of Gooden’s hands around her neck. She was losing her grip on Gooden’s greasy hair. In desperation he managed to roll her over. He spit out a broken tooth with a curse and smashed his fist into her nose. Blood spurted everywhere. Meanwhile, the chase after Moses had moved out into the road.

Gooden staggered to his feet and grabbed the empty shotgun. He slammed the stock onto the porch, snapping it off. “Yew ain’t pointin’ thet gawdam thang at ennyone agin,” he wheezed. But at that moment Treemonisha slammed into him from behind, pushing him hard against one of the porch supports, which gave way, causing the roof to come crashing down on both of them. If either of them had been conscious after that event they’d have heard Linney and Adner shouting and cursing as they chased Moses down the country road.

“What in the world—?” Dr. Gobels exclaimed. The disheveled trio stood disconsolately in the gathering dusk outside his lab at Jack’s Shop. “Wh-where is the child?” he asked.

“Well, we got ’im,” Linney Liggons said, nodding his head vigorously.

“He in a safe place,” Gooden Ashcake muttered, holding a hand to his busted lip. A dirty handkerchief wrapped around his head did not quite cover the gash left there where the roof fell on him.

“We wanna talk to you ’bout thet critter,” Adner said.

“What’s to talk about? Either you have him or you don’t. And you don’t. Not this moment,” Pensy Fogel replied.

“Well, we got ’im.” Linney nodded. “But ya see, it warn’t no easy job to ketch thet little bastard ’n we suffered considerable damage in the process.”

“You didn’t kill that old lady, did you?” Fogel asked anxiously. Kidnapping and cheating the government was one thing, murder quite another.

“Hell no, asshole! She damn near kilt
us
! Lookit Gooden’s haid! We jist laid ’er up a bit. Now see hear, we want another thousan’ afore we hand ’im over. We earned it!” Linney nodded his head again for emphasis.

“Well, gentlemen, I can hardly be expected to pay you such a huge amount without some proof that you have the, er, boy.” Gobels smiled disarmingly. “Can I?”

“I s’pose not,” Adner agreed. He pulled a red-and-black checkered shirt out of one overall pocket. “He wuz wearin’ this when we caught ’im. See, it’s the right size.”

Gobels examined the tiny shirt and passed it to Fogel. “Could’ve come off any child,” he said, tossing it back at Adner.

“Now see here, Mr. Doctor Gobbles,” Linney said, his face turning red with anger. “Yew don’t want th’ kid, we kin always find someone else be interested. Thousan’ credits more ’n we have us a deal, unnerstan’?”

“Oh, yes, yes. Quite. Um, Pensy, give them the money, all the money, the five hundred we promised and the thousand more they want to settle this business.”

“Uh, you sure, Doctor?”

“Quite sure.” Gobels smiled. “These are honorable gentlemen. I’m sure we can trust them. Count out the cash, my man, and let’s get this over with.”

Fogel slowly counted out the credits from a huge wad in his pocket. He handed each man a stack of bills. This part of the country was a barter and cash-and-carry economy where no one had heard of electronic banking in centuries, and the scientists had come prepared to buy their way with actual cash. The three men grinned as the money came into their outstretched paws. Even Gooden Ashcake. The gap in his front teeth may have been quite noticeable to him, but to Dr. Gobels it was hard to see among all the others.

A piercing white beam of light suddenly froze the small group and a godlike voice thundered from the sky, “Nobody move! This is the Confederation Ministry of Justice and you are all under arrest!”

“Meet at Yancy’s still!” Adner Shackelford yelled and broke for the woods; the other two took off in different directions. They knew the woods from childhood. But Dr. Joseph Gobels and Dr. Pensy Fogel had nowhere to go.

“Goddamn, goddamn,” Gobels muttered. “Well, Pensy, if I can’t have it
nobody
can.”

“No!” Fogel protested. “We can use your data to bargain with them! Don’t do it!”

Gobels smiled and pressed a small device in his pocket. The resulting explosion destroyed his lab and all his research and pitched the two men to the ground.

“You goddamned fool!” Fogel shouted, around a mouthful of mud.

“Shouldn’t talk with your mouth full, Pensy,” Gobels said with a grin. “You don’t know what I know and now nobody will. Nobody will!” He laughed.