The Adversary - 4 (17 page)

"Lucky for us they wasn't!" Jim nodded at the newly installed cluster of medium-sized laser weapons. "We'ns wouldn' have a hope 'n hell 'gainst this North 'merican gang if all we fielded was glass blades 'n' brainpower. Those zappers-shoo! Never saw nothin' like this yere in the swamp!"

"They're junk," said Yosh flatly. "So antiquated, it's pitiful.

Supposed to have a range of ten kloms and they go plasmatic at seven! God, what I wouldn't give for some modern fieldjacketed beam blasters-or even an old-time X-ray job."

Jim regarded him open-mouthed. "Shoo, boss-what a place that 'ere Galactic Mil-yew must be!"

Yosh and Vilkas eyed each other. The robotics engineer asked. "Were your parents time-travellers, Jim?"

"Gran'parents," said the young man. "We lived two whole gen'rations free there in Stilt Town, after the Firvulag abandoned Nionel. Not even Howlers wanted the Paree Basin." He giggled. "Which was fine by us!"

Vilkas was staring at his boots. "Would you go back to the swamp if you had the chance, kid? Go home?"

"An' eat smews 'n' bulrush roots and hog-deer?" Jim snorted.

"Not this chile. You can keep ol' Paree." He snapped two fingers against his grey torc, making the metal ring.

"This is livin'!"

"Jesus," said Vilkas softly.

Yosh was back inside the spotterscope, both hands manipulating the controls. "Last test. Plug in one of those zappers and let's see how she tracks on semiauto."

Jim went to pay out a thin cable from one of the weapons in the tower battery while Vilkas cleared the orifice and powered up. When the gun was mated to the scanning device, both grey torcs said: Ready Yoshi-sama.

Servos tilted the spotter, putting Yosh comfortably onto his back in the bucket seat. The electronically linked weapon tracked along in parallel as Yosh searched the sky. "Close range.

That's what we got and that's what we'll use. Gonna zap me a bird. Just one small bird. The Rocky Mountain Audubon Society'd ride me out of town on a rail if they knew, but I need a warm bod to target this sucker. And ... and ... ah-ha! We got us a falcon conformation coming up on CalCity at range one-one-six-seven-pip-oh-four ... chotto matte!

Dammit, he jinked! Definite falcon. Aureate. Male. Ready again"Chief-don't!" Jim cried. "Don't shoot!"

Yosh looked out of the scope, forehead furrowed in annoyance. "What the hell?"

"Them gold falcons-it's bad luck to kill 'em! You shoot one, you get th' shit o' the worl' dump on you!"

"Oh, for God's sake," exclaimed Yosh.

"Please, chief," Jim begged.

Yosh gave him a disgusted grimace and returned to the scanner. He swivelled round to the south, down near the bank of the River Ybaar. "How about a goddam guinea hen in a goddam mudwallow?"

"Zap away," said Jim cheerfully.

The laser spoke a truncated sizzling yelp. Yosh relaxed in his seat and sighed. "So much for that. Unplug the gun, and we'll get downstairs-" He froze as his golden torc transmitted a hail.

Yoshi do you hear?

(He did ... and he knew that mind-voice.) I hear High King!

I'm coming. You have spotterscope ready?

Just finished but unremote and unconnex gunsNevermind that. Won't need after all. Stay tower. Wait Me.

Tell NOONEI come.

Yes High King.

Vilkas and Jim had been gathering up the tool kits and testing gear. Neither had noticed Yosh's abstraction. The Lithuanian said, "If we're going to hook this eye to the brain-board, we'll have to cannibalize MP interfacers from something."

"Forget it," Yosh said. "The King's coming. There's a change in plan." He was frowning as he reoriented the spotter to scan the sky northeast of Calamosk. "He wants us to stay right here, and tell no one else that he's on the way."

"Hey-great!" Jim cried. "He bringin' the Flyin' Hunt t' roust out them oversea sumbitches?"

Yosh kept silent as he studied the scope readout. "He can't be. I'd get a whacking body-read-and there's nothing out there.

Nothing!"

"A land force?" Vilkas ventured.

"How c'd he keep a lan' march secret?" scoffed Jim. "Course he'd fly!"

"Oh, my God," said Yosh. He lifted a drained face from the viewer and pressed the neutralization stud. Stiffly, he climbed from the seat. His samurai armour, discarded for the installation work, lay in a neat pile. A well-known telepathic signal set Jim and Vilkas scurrying to assist him in donning it. They were puzzled by the perspiration that had broken out on their master's brow and the faint tremor in his cheek muscles. Through their grey torcs they perceived a hint of the mental turmoil that Yosh was doing his best to hide.

Artless Jim was solicitous. "Gee, boss-you feelin' all right?"

"I'm fine. But listen ... do you remember Clarty Jock telling us how to hide our private thoughts if we were afraid some Tanu with redactive powers was snooping in our minds?"

"I remember," said Vilkas. "Not that I needed him to tell me."

" 'Think of a song, over 'n' over,' " Jim rehearsed obediently.

"I alms think o' one Gran'daddy useta sing: We are the virgin mountaineers, With lots of hair upon our ears-"

Yosh interrupted him. "When the King arrives, hide your thoughts."

"But why, chief?"

Yosh settled his daisho and nodachi swords while Vilkas tied on the collarlike nodowa (cut low to show the prestigious golden torc) and Jim held out the elaborate helmet with its crescentmoon horns. "Never mind why. You'll know when the King gets here."

The three of them stood at attention, facing east. There was a tiny speck in the cloudless afternoon sky, obviously approaching, and Jim and Vilkas tensed. But then they saw that it was only a bird, perhaps some kind of hawk, with yellow and black feathers. It glided low over the tower and the long piece of straw it clutched in its talons was clearly visible.

Look out, Yosh whispered telepathically to his minions.

The bird floated down. It was not a hawk but an aureate falcon, and when it touched the parapet it changed into King Aiken-Lugonn holding his great golden-glass Spear in one gloved hand.

"Hi," said the King, pushing up the face-shield of his storm suit. "You boys got the spotterscope ready?"

Yosh saluted and gestured wordlessly at the device. Jim mumbled, "We are the virgin mountaineers!"

Aiken raised one quizzical eyebrow. "Never would have guessed it." He turned his back on them and climbed into the seat of the scanning device. "Don't bother with instructions.

I've used these things before." He looked south. "Yes ... here comes Ochal the Harper and his riders-and I presume the extra bodies are the coveted Basil's Bastards." One finger rapped the mode-select into ultimate range. "And zooming up behind them, clearing the hills, we have fifteen all-terrain vehicles driving flatout."

Vilkas and Jim were staring at one another in mingled shock and apprehension. Yosh stood calmly at the King's shoulder and said, "How can we assist you?"

Aiken climbed out of the spotterscope and motioned for Yosh to take his place. Jim was quick to catch the kabuto that his master whipped from his head and flung away.

"I'm going to entrust the three of you with a state secret,"

Aiken said. His eyes were burning coals in a paper-white countenance. "I won't threaten you-but if you tell anyone what kind of chicane I pull here this afternoon, there's a good chance my throne will fall. And you along with it, of course."

"We are your slaves," said Yosh. Even in the embrace of the big spotterscope, he managed a solemn bow. Vilkas and Jim shuffled their feet and licked their lips.

Aiken said, "The North American vehicles are certain to catch up with Ochal's group before they get within range of Calamosk's defences. I realized this as I farsensed them while flying in. So I'll have to do something."

"Hel-ever'body thought you'd bring the Flyin' Hunt!" Jim said. Vilkas kicked him in the ankle.

"I couldn't carry the Hunt," Aiken told him quietly. "I barely have strength enough to fly-and maintain the bird illusion. If I overfly that enemy ATV column and attack it with the Spear, I won't have enough watts left to generate a psychocreative shield against their weapons. I have a portable sigma-field generator, but using it makes flying even more difficult, and chances are that those North Americans have guns that will go through a small sigma like an axe through a muskmelon. So I'm going to try something different, and you'll help me with this scanner.

I'll ascend to a high altitude with the Spear.

Very high. You, Yosh, will zero in precisely fifty metres in front of the lead ATV and farspeak the coordinates to me." He blinked, anticipating the engineer's question. "No, I can't use my own farsense to aim. I'm incapable of a precise focus at sixty kilometres. Besides, I'll need what residual mind-wattage I have left to screw up their scanners. I'll probably have to use the Spear more than once, so you must be ready to refocus whenever I give the order. Is that clear?"

"Yes, High King. It would be best if you could wait until the target is within forty-five kilometres. The scanner may not be reliable at extreme range."

"Good thinking. I'll hold off as long as I can."

Jim cried, "But what happened?

Kee-rist, Y'r Maj'sty! How we gone lick this bunch-how we gone lick the Firvulag - if you got no powers left?"

Aiken smiled and tapped the crested hood of his golden suit.

"I still have my full quotient of low cunning, Jim boy. The ordinary little grey cells that got me banished to the Pliocene in the first place. Didn't you ever wonder why they threw me out of the Milieu? Because I was a menace, that's why! There are brains and there are brains. Mine may be a trifle shy of metapsychic firepower at the moment, but not to worry. I'll recover soon enough. Meanwhile, I'll find other ways to rise to the occasion."

Cloud gripped the edge of the command console with taut concentration. "We're going to catch them! Estimated convergence eleven-point-four minutes!"

"Shall we man the sonic disruptors?" Phil Overton asked Hagen.

"No, you idiot. When we get clear line of sight-no trees, no bloody antelopes or anything stampeding in the way-we put up the sigmas. Then deploy in echelon off-road and chase until we're within stun range. Knock down their chalikos, close in and deliver a low-power lullaby to the folks, then scoop 'em up."

"We could hit the animals at longer range with the disruptors or the zappers," Phil said.

"And maybe kill some pilot or technician our lives may depend upon when Papa comes after us!" Hagen snapped. "No disruptors, dammit, and no photon arms, either. Those are only for use against troops from Calamosk."

"We'll have to leave slots in the sigmas to navigate and shoot Huskies through," Nial Keogh said. "They could nail us if they're sharp. Use psychozap in a bouncing ball-lightning effect."

"We'll risk it," said Hagen. "You and the other heavy PKheads will have to watch out for metafoolery. Now farspeak the others and advise them. We won't go echelon until the terrain's suitable. I'm going to call for max speed to close the gap. Hang onto your teeth."

The whining turbos rose to a howl. The fourplex vehicles charged along the crudely graded track, bouncing and veering and raising a monumental plume of dust. "Got 'em on the TSL monitor," said Veikko Saastamoinen. "Closeup farsight, too.

They know we're here, but they don't look worried."

Hagen scowled. "Hear anything?"

"Screened six ways from Sunday. The torcers have a blanket on the whole outfit. What I wouldn't give for your old man's metaconcert program! Funnel a mind-blast through me, we could drill every one of that bottle-armoured lot right between the ears."

"The King's got that program," Cloud said, "in case you've forgotten."

The fleeing chaliko riders were crossing a dry streambed and racing through a narrow line of poplar trees on the opposite bank. With the ATV safety governors on override, the vehicles were careering along at a speed that threatened to send them out of control.

"You've got to slow down!" Cloud exclaimed. "The others are-"

From the sky came a brief green Sash. Dirt fountained up in an opaque brown blossom and an explosion smote their brains at the same time as a farspoken roar: STOP YOUR VEHICLES. DO NOT ATTEMPT ERECT SIGMAS OR I ZAP LEADER.

Veikko screamed and clapped both hands to his skull. Hagen wrestled with the brakes and the vehicle slewed crazily off the track into the stony veldt, rocking and ploughing furrows with its deflectors as it tilted far onto its left side and nearly turned turtle.

There was a second explosion born from an emerald fire-bar, and this time the beam hit less than fifteen metres in front of them. Hagen cursed as he brought the vehicle to a halt.

DO NOT MOVE. DO NOT ERECT SIGMAS OR I ZAP.

Nial Keogh was speaking calmly into the microphone of the RF com, checking on the others. Veikko, his sensitive mind overwhelmed by the volume of the vibrant mental shout, had fallen to the cockpit floor and was curled in a fetal ball, clawlike hands over his ears. The TSL display showed only multicoloured snow.

Cloud and Hagen looked at each other with bleak comprehension. The first game of the match was over. But at least their father was not the winner.

Cloud spoke on Aiken's intimate mode: We've stopped. May I come out on the bridge and parley?

There was a third explosion behind the last vehicle of the train, and godlike laughter.

YOU FOOLS. I'VE BEEN WATCHING YOU FOR HOURS. I COULD HAVE FRIED YOUR BRAINS THE MOMENT YOU SET FOOT ON MY MANY-COLOURED LAND. AND YOU THINK YOU CAN PARLEY?

Cloud said: We have a proposition that may interest you. We really intend no harm to your kingdom.

I KNOW YOUR PROPOSAL. I KNOW YOU HOPE TO REOPEN THE TIME-GATE.

We will ... pay for your help.

HOW?

Hagen's face was puzzled. He and Phil Overton had been hurriedly conferring and now he covertly told his sister: Something funny that not psychocreativeblast but photoncannontype!

ANSWER ME! OR MY METAPSYCHIC POWER WILL ANNIHILATE YOU!

"The Wizard of Oz," Phil Overton said. "But with a gigaclass zapper. Not quite a bluff-but we may have manoeuvreing room."