Koban (41 page)

“Link to Willfem”

“Nan, how’s it going?” He asked as soon as Jake made the connection.

“We are well on the way to a second set of drops in about six
to eight minutes, Sir. We plan to do them all together this time. We have a third
of each team resting right now, and we rotate through the hardest jobs. The gravity
is taking a heavier toll than we expected, but despite that we are ahead of schedule.”

“How’d you manage to do that? I expected you to fall behind,
not shave off minutes.” He was pleasantly surprised.

“We can work faster than we anticipated,” she explained. “The
Chief’s team, using his expertise, caught up with us and gave us some shortcuts
he thought of as they worked. We all unconsciously built in extra time to be more
delicate with cutting up machinery that we’ll never use again.”

“That’s good to hear, but don’t take any more risks than necessary.
You are doing better than we are. We don’t quite have half the folks off yet. We
are going to use the passenger ramp after all, but only for crew use, so we can
rotate people in and out for a cool rest. We can also bring you people out the easy
way. It’s ridiculous how dangerous that cargo ramp feels when you weigh fifty percent
more and you’re tired. A fall here can break limbs or kill you.”

“Very good Sir. One of us will give you a couple minutes warning
before we cut the next sections loose. These are larger pieces, so you want to get
people farther away if you can.”

“Right. I’ll pass the word now, and we’ll be ready when you are.
Mirikami Out.”

He gave the update to Maggi, just as she was briefing her own
relief, and then told Noreen. She advised him that the three remaining rested Stewards
were heading down to the ramp now. All six remaining Stewards on outside duty were
going in with her. Rigson had been sent to the dome after his injuries.

Mirikami checked with Chack and Ricco, telling them about the
impending next drop. They both said that the hard suits had kept them cool and hydrated,
and driving the haulers wasn’t tiring. They didn’t need a break.

The returning tired Stewards handed off some of their guns to
younger fresher members of the university people, who would stand watch along the
line. They kept two Jazzers to pass to two of the men coming out, and Noreen would
give her Sonic to the third man.

Coverage along the line of evacuees would be lighter for a few
minutes. Therefore, Mirikami gathered the Jazzer and Sonic from the two drivers,
who had hard suits and cages for protection, and planned to pass them to passenger
volunteers. Branson walked over as he did this, and mentioned to the captain how
the Smart Fabric had protected Naguma’s body from punctures.

“Well, damn,” Mirikami swore. “Noreen and I’d look like showoffs
in our dress uniforms, but I wish we’d worn them now. I didn’t think about fashion
also being protective.”

Then in a sudden after thought, “Cal, when you get inside ask
some passengers to gather up all of the table cloths and bring them down with them
on the central lifts. Those are a cheaper grade of Smart Fabric, but just as tough
as what clothes are made of. We can use them as a protective cover over people walking
to the dome.”

He gave the guns to two freshly descended passengers. Their operation
was simple. Slide off the safety, get close to the target, point and press the stud
inside the trigger guard. The “get close” was the hard part.

Mirikami moved his chair around to the center of the cargo ramp,
to be clear of the spray of junk expected when the next three engine sections fell.

Noreen and the six Stewards had briefed the other three men,
and were now riding up the escalator ramp when he got the warning of two minutes
to the next parts dump.

“Link to all crew.”

“Done, Sir.”

“Captain speaking, start the final cuts for this engine drop
on my mark. I need to get some people clear first. It should only be a moment.”

He called up to the people in the six human chains. “Hold up
the lines. Let the people already on the ramp make their way down. The last person
on each chain be extra careful, you won’t have anybody holding your other hand.
We need to drop some more engine pieces as soon as you are down.”

In thirty seconds, everyone on the ramp had made it down, a lot
faster than was safe, but were off the ramp, milling with a dozen others that had
been told to stay near the shelter of the ramp.

The three newly armed Stewards positioned themselves around them,
looking up and around nervously for bugs and bats. The practice had been for each
person coming down to have the visible threats pointed out, and to pass that information
on to the next person behind them. This way, the circling bats and hovering bugs
were always being watched by multiple pairs of eyes.

“Everyone is off the two ramps,” he told Willfem. “Start your
cuts now.” Noreen and the other six crewmembers had just reached the hatchway.

“Aye Sir,” he heard from Willfem.

After an impatient minute and a half, he heard her shout, “Here
they go!”

The sound of metal screeching and tearing was earsplitting, and
then the large cylinders of metal parts thundered down onto the landing pad with
three separate rapid thuds and crashes. They hadn’t all hit at exactly the same
instant. Pieces of metal, plastic and ceramic went flying in all directions, and
the loud clatter from the underside of the two ramps proved a lot of material had
shot out from the triple impact.

More dust than the first three wider separated drops created
 rose off the tarmac, due to the larger and heavier segments. Despite the advanced
warning, several people screamed or shouted out at the deafening sound and heavy
ground vibration. However, there were no cries of pain, so it had gone safely.

Still on full Link, Mirikami said, “Nice work. We have beautiful
pile of scrap. Give the teams a break Nan, while Chack and Ricco hook on and drag
the junk clear. Mirikami Out.”

Virtually every set of eyes had turned to watch as the engine
parts fell with a thunderous crash and the dust rose. Every human set of eyes, that
is.

The Flock had seen their attacks thwarted and members of the
Flock killed or injured. They now circled high above, observing this odd behaving
group of prey with growing frustration. New prey such as these was predictably stupid
at first, with the first kill or two being easy.

The Flock had always been able to bring down one or two from
smaller herds, and this was a very large herd. The red herd protectors always stayed
away to let the Flock feed on the tender sweet meat of the first of their animals.
Then the big dangerous ones came to protect the rest of their animals.

The Flock would be forced to leave their kills, and it was risky
to bring down another one of this herd while it was being protected. It was frequently
fatal to attack one of big red prey. The big herders had things that could kill
from a distance. Flock Leader had learned to call his squadrons away when they came.

This time the herd animals behaved differently, and they had
their own herders that watched and protected them. However, they only appeared to
have things to attack a squadron when it came
very
close.

The big red ones could somehow kill members of the Flock at long
range, and they didn’t wait for the divers to come near. They could apparently hear
the flock talking as it approached because they looked up, and they obviously heard
the even higher pitched echo calls when a squadron dove to attack.

At first Flock Leader thought the big ones had no ears, but saw
that they could grow them when needed and, like the Flock, could point them at oncoming
flyer calls.

Sometimes a red one could hurt a flyer’s hearing with loud screams,
if the flyer flew close or made a silent dive to strike-and-go from behind. The
small prey didn’t appear able to use their tiny ears to hear the Flock at all when
they talked or used echo calls, and so were easy to attack from above or behind.
This was like most of their usual prey, who also couldn’t hear the Flock.

As few as three flyers could bring down one of these animals
from behind, but five made it more certain. If the prey knew the attack was coming,
a squadron of eight was a more favorable number to bring one down.

It took many squadrons working together to kill a red one, and
even then the cost was too high for the value of the tough dry meat. The smaller
prey was usually easy to bring down, at least until they learned to watch for divers,
or the red ones came out to protect them.

Flock Leader had still been some distance away when the first
squadron of five attacked, and did not see how those two flyers were killed because
the large nest blocked his view. However, the dead flyers did not look burned, and
the three returning flyers had bruise type injuries.

That fireball from the small prey had really been a shock to
the Flock, eliminating a squadron of six. It was something Flock Leader had never
seen, and had killed and injured more of his Flock at one time than big red ones
did. The red ones had killed many flyers singly from far away, before the Flock
grew cautious.

He watched four of that doomed squadron die as the herd animals
beat on their smoking bodies, their cries of pain filling the sky. Both flyers that
flew away from the fire would die tonight, because they were almost blind and could
not breathe well.

The two other squadron flyers, of the eight sent, were there
to strike at animals that tried to help a fallen herd mate. Those two had hidden
around the side of the giant hard flyer. They found their opportunity, and attacked
an animal that separated from the herd and walked almost under that hard flyer.

The kill was spoiled when a small herd protector made both of
them deaf with a black “loud shouter,” which was worse by far than the noise the
red ones made from their mouths. It was heard by the Flock Leader from high above,
where he circled.

He could clearly see at least three of the bigger black “shouter”
objects. The two flyers were unable to hear the Flock at all when they returned,
and would eventually die if they could never get back their ears.

The red herders were much faster and stronger than their slow
animals, but not quite as fast as the flyers, or even as fast the usual prey the
Flock hunted. Yet the smaller herd animals this time had cost the Flock great loss.
Flock Leader wanted revenge, but was waiting for the right opportunity.

His flyers had attacked this herd multiple times today, and even
saw the little biters bring down some animals. They had killed one of the herd before
the three drinking biters were killed in turn, by a prey animal protector. It used
a black object, smaller and quieter than red protectors used, and the “loud shouter.”
Nevertheless, the protector still waited to get close to kill with that, as had
the other protectors.

Whenever the little biter’s made a kill from a heard, the Flock
eventually claimed that prey too, but only after allowing them to drink for a time,
as reward for the easy meat. This time the big red ones had not come out to protect
this large herd, even after two kills and several damaged animals. They always gave
these first kills up without argument, but then protected the rest of the herd.

Expecting red ones to come was why Flock Leader had called a
retreat, and they flew high to stay away from their ability to kill from a distance.
It was confusing when they didn’t appear after several attacks. Was this to trick
the Flock? It had happened before when they used tied prey animals to draw a squadron
near, just to kill them. They didn’t eat any of the flyers they killed, which made
no sense. At least the Flock could reclaim their own dead for food, to offset their
loss.

In the past, the red herders permitted the Flock to keep and
eat what they killed or hurt, but not to feed while the herders were present. After
they took the herd inside their nest, they let the Flock eat what they had killed
or crippled.

Sometimes the red ones released herd animals in hard dark shells,
and killed them later themselves, leaving the peeled animals for scavengers. The
Flock had once killed two of these before the red ones found where they were hiding.
However, the flyers were shocked to discover that the prey now could also kill at
a distance. They had the same objects the red ones used to kill, but the prey did
not kill many flyers with them.

The hard shell was also very difficult to open, and they could
not bite through except where it had cracks. These shelled prey animals were sometimes
claimed from the little biters, and the smaller gracks, which could get through
the small openings in the shell to kill.

That the red ones did not eat from their own herd bothered Flock
Leader. This was somehow “wrong” with the world in Flock Leader’s mind. They killed
herd animals that they did not eat, and killed flyers they did not eat. Few animals
ate biters, but they also left those.

This was the first time in Flock Leader’s experience that the
small prey itself had defended a new herd from a hard flyer. They had even taken
the kills and the crippled into the big nest, where the Flock couldn’t feed on them.

Frustrated and growing angry, it looked like all they would be
left to eat were their own dead, and the foul dead biters. The Flock would be weaker
tonight, not stronger. Flock Leader might have a squadron leader challenge him for
his position.

However, more animals kept coming out of the giant hard flyer,
he might yet lead the Flock to more kills. Flock Leader decided there must be many
more animals still inside. He called to his squadrons to stay high but keep watch.
The Flock didn’t have a true language, but they had many complex calls that conveyed
many meanings, warnings, and ways to coordinate an attack.