M'tak Ka'fek (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (35 page)

“I don't intend for us to be here long enough for it to matter, Lt. Bear,” Jack said, surveying the landscape in front of them. Most of the conversation among the Earthlings was done over their suit radios, making them appear huge mute monsters to the traders. Addressing the station Trader over his suit's external speakers the Captain asked, “Which way does our objective lie, Trader?”

“Across the fields to spinward. Disputed territory begins at the small river near the treeline, 15 kilometers away.” The Trader made a foppish arm gesture in the general direction specified. 

“All right. Chief Morgan, take the SEALs forward and scout the route. Lieutenants Bear and Taylor, have the Marines form two columns, one on either side of the native party. White and Ogawa, bring up the rear behind the hover sleds, I will take point. Let's move people.”

In the center of the Earthlings' procession was the station Trader's party, consisting of an equal number of attendants and bodyguards. The bodyguards carried devices that were obviously weapons—long barrels with sights and sausage shaped extensions where a stock would be on a human rifle. Under the barrel was a lever with a handle on it, which several of the security detail were busy pumping away on. 

“What do you thing they're doing?” asked PFC Samuels.

“I think those rifle things are airguns,” replied Ronnie Reagan, who had a head for all things mechanical. “They're pumping up the pressure in their air reservoirs.”

“Airguns?” exclaimed Sanchez. “You have got to be joking.”

“Don't be so quick to dismiss air rifles, Joey,” JT advised the Marine. The ex-green beret was a student of all forms of offbeat weaponry. “Air rifles were used against Napoleon's troops by the Austrians in the late 18
^th
century and the Lewis & Clarke expedition carried one on their trip across America. A .46 caliber Giradoni with a twenty shot magazine. It was superior to any gunpowder weapon of the day—multi shot, no muzzle flash or cloud of smoke and not much report. Deadly out to more than 100 yards. Just be glad we are all wearing armor.” 

On the portside of the column Rosey spoke to Jon over suit-to-suit. “This is just too far out, like being in a video game. Have you ever thought you'd live to see something like this?”

“I don't know,” he replied. “I got a bad feeling about this whole situation.”

River Crossing, Ring Station

Night descended on the column as they reached the river and it was decided to make camp for the evening. The Kieshnar-rak-kat-tra quickly laid out bedrolls and began cooking over portable burners. The Earthlings reclined in their suits, dining on protein cubes and water offered up by tubes inside their helmets.

“This shit is worse than MREs,” groused Sanchez. “Even the fuzzy weasels are getting something fresh cooked and hot.”

“Feel free to join them, Joey,” JT replied. “Of course, opening your suit may expose you to some bug that will kill you, if the furballs' stew doesn't poison you or eat a hole in your stomach.”

“Since you put it that way, Lieutenant, protein cubes don't seem so bad.”

“How does all this green stuff survive, with the days being so messed up and night sometimes lasting for weeks?” asked Brown, who always seemed to be bubbling over with questions.

“Plants are tougher than you think,” answered JT. “My mom gave me a plant in a terrarium when I joined the Special Forces—a big glass bottle with dirt in the bottom. Then I got transferred across the country and had to have it shipped to my new post. The movers packed the terrarium in the bottom of a wardrobe box and sealed it with tape. All my stuff was in storage for three months and then got shipped to California in a moving van—no light at all during that time. When I unpacked my stuff the plant was alive and doing fine.”

“That was one tough plant.”

“There was a time, 35 million years ago, that Antarctica was covered with forest instead of ice,” added LCpl Reagan. “It was still at the south pole so during summer it was in constant daylight, and in the winter it was night 24/7.”

“You're pulling my leg, Ronnie,” Brown replied.

“No, I swear it's true, you can look it up.”

“Man, that would be something, bro,” Sanchez added, thoughtfully chewing on a chunk of protein. “A forest that stayed dark for months at a time would be spookier than this place.”

Overhead the gas planet loomed, striped in alternating bands of blue, purple and indigo. It reflected almost as much light as a full Moon back on Earth, but a full Moon did not dominate the sky like the Jovian giant.

“Maybe so, Joey,” said LCpl Acuna. “I think this place is sort of pretty, romantic even.”

“No place you gotta wear space armor to protect yourself from giant fuzzy weasels with airguns is romantic, Rosey,” quipped LCpl Feldman.

* * * * *

At the far side of the encampment, Hitch and Jacobs had grounded the two hover sleds forming a barrier covering the party's rear. The sleds held spare food, water, ammo and energy packs for the suits, along with pieces of equipment the Captain thought might prove useful. Between them, they should be able to haul a dozen or more antimatter eggs on the return trip.

Betty and Mizuki were talking with the two sailors when one of the orbiting recon drones sent a movement warning.

“What's that?” asked Betty.

“Probably nothing,” replied Steve Hitch. “Just wind rustling the underbrush.”

“There's another alert,” said Matt Jacobs, “and my proximity alarm just sounded.” All four humans scrambled to their feet just in time to see a wave of creatures, brandishing axes and swords, about to reach the sled barrier.

In the pale light the attackers moved like white ghosts. The enemy were large eight limbed creatures, their fleshy man sized bodies segmented like insect larvae. Their tapering heads held two small eyes above sizable blunt mandibles. Running on two pair of spindly legs, they gripped edged weapons with the remaining four. Matt and Stevie, veterans of previous battles with aliens, raised their weapons and opened fire without hesitation. Betty raised the alarm over the comm.

“Attack! Attack! The camp is under attack from the rear!”

The sailors moved to the sides to prevent their position from being flanked, while Betty fell back to protect the traders, just starting to rise from their beds. Three of the menacing aliens clambered over the loaded sleds and advanced with scimitar like swords held high.

Both sailors and Corpsman White had been trained in the use of firearms and reflexively brought their weapons to bear on their attackers. Mizuki, however, was much more at home with another weapon—the katana strapped to her back. Pulling it from its sheath in a single continuous motion she struck an overhead blow that cleaved the nearest of her attackers in half diagonally.

Smoothly following through she took a sliding step to the left, maintaining her center of balance as Yuki had taught her. A foot stamp,
kiai
shout and a diagonal blow to the left yielded another bisected opponent. Repeated once more to the right and all three of the sword wielding attackers lay on the ground, their bodies spilling pale blue and pink viscera into the dirt. 

“Damn, girl!” shouted Betty, moving up beside her but staying carefully out of sword stroke range. “You've driven 'em back over the sleds. Time to put your sword up and get out your railgun.”

“
Hai
.” Mizuki gave her blade a ritual cleaning flick and then wiped the katana down with a cloth she carried just for that purpose. Returning her sword to its sheath she raised her railgun from its carry position and joined her companions in firing on the pulpy white attackers. 

If the Earthlings had been watching the attackers' charge closely, they would have noticed that the stampeding aliens flushed a swarm of butterflies from the field in front of them. The flock of tiny fluttering creatures tumbled through the air and hovered above the humans. Behind the defenders, individual butterflies descended to the bodies of those slain by Mizuki, alighting on the spilled remains for a few second and then rising back into the night sky on erratic paths. 

* * * * *

The camp also fell under attack on the river side. An even larger force of the eight-limbed creatures swarmed from the treeline on the far bank, bounding through the shallow water to attack the Earthlings. Unfortunately for the attackers, the Marines on the riverbank also received alerts from the drones overhead. The six Marines, three SEALs and three officers stood ready to receive the aliens' charge.

Green tracers lit up the night as a torrent of flechette fire scythed through the massed white bodies of the attackers. Bear turned on his suit's external speakers and roared in challenge. Towering over his companions, the four meter tall armored polar bear raised his 15mm railgun cannon and sent hundreds of explosive rounds into the stand of trees that had concealed the aliens' advance. The flashes from the exploding shells rippled through the vegetation, lighting the woodland with a deadly festive glow.

“If this is the best they got around here, this place won't be nearly as much fun as the last station,” Bear complained, holstering his weapon.

JT was less superstitious than most soldiers, but Bear's complaining made him nervous. “Brother Bear, you keep asking for it and we're apt to get some real trouble one day.”

“This traveling circus has just gotten started, Lt. Bear. Look upon this as the opening act,” Jack said. Observing that their front was in no danger, the Captain called to those in the rear.

“Hitch, Jacobs, what's happening back there?”

“We're good, Sir. The attackers have all gone, those that could still run. Three of 'em got inside the perimeter but Dr. Ogawa took care of them,” came Hitch's reply.

Dr. Ogawa took care of them? I'll have get clarification on that when this is over.
“Interrogative the status of our furry charges?” 

“They are all huddled together in the center of the camp, Captain. The ones carrying those air-rifle things sort of formed a perimeter around the station Trader and his lackeys. Looks like they booted our three traders out to fend for themselves. Right now they are hiding behind the sleds near Doc White.”

“Hm, looks like there is no honor, or compassion, among weasels. Any casualties?”

“None, Sir. The attackers didn't get through us to the traders.”

“Roger, hold your positions. I think I need to have a word with our fuzzy partners.”

Valley of the Guardians, Gliese 581d

Arriving at the Triads' planet the Peggy Sue did something that none of the new frigates could—she landed on the surface of the planet. Designed as a combination exploration vessel and private yacht, her sleek shape was designed for passage through planetary atmospheres. Following instructions from the authorities below, the starship floated down through Gliese 581d's thick atmosphere to a valley between low mountain ridges.

The valley was the home of the Conclave of Guardians, a gathering of Triads charged with defending their world against outsiders. The Peggy Sue was there to pick up a contingent of Guardians and transport them back to the embattled Earth. Captain Vincent had decided that landing on the surface was easier than ferrying a dozen eight foot tall, triple barreled cacti to the ship using the shuttles.

“Take her down gently, Lt. Palmer. Land her across that flat area ahead with the wind on the port beam.” Billy Ray had to consciously keep his hands from reaching for the controls on the arms of the commander's chair.

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Like all of the land in the gravitationally locked planet's habitable band, there was a constant gale blowing up the valley from the direction of the sunset. A huge, perpetual storm system churned over the planet's sunward ocean, sending squall lines outward in all directions. Landing crosswise, the ship's bulk would shelter those in its lee.

The wind might be blowing 30 knots or more but Peggy Sue's 8,000 ton bulk remained rock steady as Pauline sat the ship down on its six retractable landing legs. The ship settled slightly and then the helmsman announced: “The ship is landed, Captain.”

“Excellent, Lieutenant, well done.” Activating a comm channel, Billy Ray spoke to the landing party. “Cargo Hold, Bridge.”

“Roger, Bridge. Go ahead Captain.”

“Chief, you can equalize pressure and open the starboard cargo door. We are going to need a temporary ramp installed from the threshold to the ground for the Triads to board.”

“Aye aye, Sir. The work party is suited up and ready to go. Give us a couple of hours and we'll be ready for 'em.”

“Then have the men assist Dr. Scott Hamilton in preparing the hold to support the Triads. She'll be joining you outside to identify which plants and ground cover should be loaded.”

“Aye, Captain.” Chief Zackly was not thrilled to be turning the ship's cargo hold into a giant terrarium, but orders were orders. “All right, yous deck apes, you heard the Captain. Turn to! And remember that the local gravity is forty percent higher than back home—you break a leg and I'll kick yer ass.”

* * * * *

Two watches later the Captain and Jean-Jacques de Belcour were standing at the large eye-shaped observation port in the ship's main lounge. Beyond the window was a stately—which is to say slow—procession of Triads, heading for the ramp to the ship's hold. Moving on their tangled motile roots, they advanced at what could only charitably be called a slow walking pace.

“They won't let us move them on board using hover sleds?”

“I am afraid not, Captain. The Ambassador indicated that it would be an affront to their dignity to be carried aboard.”

“And I understand that this collection of Triads is going to aid us in the defense of Earth?”

“So I have been informed.”

“So tell me, Jean-Jacques. What did you say that convinced them to offer us assistance? I would've bet getting any help was a long shot.”

“The Ambassador first provided them with a quite detailed report on everything they observed during their sojourn to Earth. When they were done the Conclave allowed me a few words.”