The IX (35 page)

*

“Are you sure it’s really necessary?” Ayria Solram complained. “We’ve been attempting this every day for over three weeks now, and I don’t seem to be getting any closer to clearing my thoughts than I was at the beginning.”

“And that is precisely your problem,” Stained-With-Blood countered. “Your scientific mind is too cluttered. As I’ve stressed repeatedly, don’t try.
Do.
Stop thinking.
React
, and let gut instinct guide you. There is no need to scrutinize every little idea and action. Simply allow the spirit of this world to embrace you, and carry you to where it needs you most. Napioa will be waiting. You’ll see.”

Strangling her frustration, Ayria forced herself to stop pacing, and took her position on the floor before Stained-With-Blood once again.

“Why do we have to sit like this anyway?” she whined. “It’s uncomfortable. How you manage to relax when your muscles are this cramped is beyond me.”

At last.
Stained-With-Blood smiled. A gleam entered his eye. “Why? How would you like to position yourself?”

“Well. When I had my experience, I was in bed, lying down. I was warm and calm. Restful.”

“And?”

Ayria didn’t seem to get the gist of his question, so Stained-With-Blood emphasized, “And what
weren’t
you doing?”

Her eyes widened in comprehension. “All those things you mentioned, because I was half asleep.”

“So why don’t you put yourself in a similar situation now?”

Ayria stared at him, mouth agape.

He continued, “For the past two weeks I have been encouraging you to sit before me. A matter of habit, for all Blackfoot spirit-walkers adopt such a position when engaging in dream-quests. To us, it is natural. You, however, are from a time far removed from ours. It’s
your
skills we are trying to open, not mine. Yet not once did you think to take that first vital step. What posture do
you
feel will be most conducive for you to achieve a relaxed center?”

The penny dropped. Ayria’s jaws snapped shut.

“It is often the first steps that are the most difficult, yes?” Stained-With-Blood murmured softly, chuckling, “and now you have learned an important lesson, you’ll find things will proceed much more quickly.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding?”Ayria gasped, dumbfounded. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because that’s not the way it works. As I mentioned, you think far too much.” Extending his hand, Stained-With-Blood invited, “Now, shall we begin again? Properly this time.”

Grimacing, Ayria struggled to her knees, waddled across to the bed, and plopped herself down on the edge. Flopping back, she made herself comfy, and muttered, “Yes. Here we go again.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Royal Flush

Mac completed another patrol of the perimeter. The combined shield generators were working perfectly, masking both the team and their activities from sight. But Mac knew that wouldn’t last once the engine startup sequence was initiated. The Horde would react, and fall upon them like a wave.

And they won’t give a toss what barriers we’ve erected. So we’d better be ready for when they arrive.

He ran his thumb along the shimmering potency of the fence. A chilling tingle numbed his hand within moments and spread along his arm. Stepping back, Mac was forced to flex his fingers repeatedly to restore circulation. Once he could feel again, he checked the stability of the portable pylon.

Solid as a rock.

But in this case, appearances were deceiving.

When they had planned the execution of this mission, the command staff had thought things through as thoroughly as possible. Resources, especially the new Tec under development, were a precious commodity that couldn’t be wasted. So while it was appreciated the Boleni Heights facility had to be held permanently, they knew that wouldn’t be an option out on the airfield itself. Some of the equipment would need to be left behind at the expense of procuring the spacecraft.

Therefore, Brent Wyatt had designed a weaker form of emitter. They were lightweight, less resilient, and possessed a lower energy threshold than the permanent variety. Easier and quicker to manufacture than their bigger brothers, it was hoped they would be perfect for assignments where equipment had to be abandoned, or an orderly retreat made.

Let’s hope these babies work as they should. But just in case . . . .

Mac stooped to check the couplings between the shield-rods and the claymore booby-trap he’d positioned a few yards out from the
Promulus
.

Oh yes. A three second delay on a sixty degree arc should work like a charm. Then our friends will discover what old-fashioned, directional fragmentation mines can do. Thousands of steel projectiles traveling at nearly four thousand feet per second will make our feelings perfectly clear.

The skimmer was parked below the aft section of the
Promulus
itself. Sam Pell had set up a mobile command post in the rear, and was overseeing each phase of the operation. It had been just over an hour since their arrival, and although the environs of the spaceport seemed tranquil, Mac knew they couldn’t relax. Ambling over to his colleague, he said, “How’s it going?”

“All quiet, Boss,” Sam replied, waving his hand at the monitors in front of him, “and ahead of schedule.”

The top left-hand corner of the display unit revealed multiple perspectives, each one showing a view of the spaceport and surrounding environs.

“What am I seeing here?” Mac asked.

“Those are the flyers. Both offensive and defensive versions. Most of them are patrolling Boleni Mount while the crew finishes the initial preparations. As you can see, the double-layered shield wall has been activated, and the earthwork surrounding the astrometrics facility has just this minute been completed. Courtesy of the ion cannon, I might add. At twenty feet by thirty, the moat is deeper and wider than individual Horde ogres have been known to leap, so they won’t be prancing across unexpectedly to say hello. There are only two access points into the compound, both via retractable bridges. All Mark has to do now is lay out the barbed wire along the bottom of the trench, and then seed the mountainside in a mixture of mundane and gravity mines as per the agreed pattern.”

“How many drones have they been allocated?”

“Fifty to begin with. Although Bob Neville said that’ll double once everything’s fired up. When they are, he’s suggested we assign a squadron to shadow the iron convoy’s route.”

Hmm. Sound tactics
. “Bob Neville? How’s he holding up?”

“Sound as a pound,” Sam replied, catching Mac’s inference immediately. “A little slow sometimes, but Mark thinks that’s because he’s trying to be thorough, and basically determined not to screw up again.”

Good to hear.
Mac had a sudden thought. “Sam, how come they managed to use an ion cannon without attracting the Horde?”

“Simple physics, Boss. Remember, they’ve got the real deal when it comes to shielding. Ephraim manufactured a set of barriers with the type of capacity we hope to employ permanently in the future. When fully deployed, the curtain totally masks whatever’s within the protective matrix. They can see out, operate, transmit and so forth. But nothing gets in without the corresponding code. Mark simply created a self enclosed bubble of seclusion while they finished the work.”

“I see. So what’s our situation here?”

“The Tarion Star pilots, Tara Becket and Hiroshi Taganaka, have signaled they’re ready to go. Their team is on standby, ready to infuse the aqua drive generators. And Stu has just dispatched the skidder toward our location to pick up our skimmer.”

“Hopefully Angela and Danny have made similar progress?”

“You could say that.” Sam stifled a chuckle. “They’ve been ready for the last fifteen minutes and have instigated an ad hoc electronic poker school to while away their time. Everybody here’s in on it. Good for the nerves, so they tell me.”

Mac gasped. “Are you serious?”

“Oh yes. I’m doing quite well this hand.”

“What?”

“Look at this.” Sam tapped one of his screens. “See? I’m playing via the main console instead of my own info-pad. I need one more card for a straight flush. If I win, Angela has to take my place on kitchen assignment for the next three off-duty rotations.”

“Sam! We’re mid-mission, for pity’s sake.”

Despite his indignation, Mac found it difficult not to find the image of a highly qualified pilot up to her elbows in vegetable peelings or soapy suds mildly amusing. It was a chore each individual in Rhomane shared on a regular basis.

“Don’t worry, Sir,” Sam added, “all our defenses are online and ready to rock and roll. Having had a chance to familiarize themselves with the flight deck operating procedures, Tara, Hiroshi, Angela, and Danny all agree, once the drives are initialized, it’ll only take four or five minutes for the cores to reach optimum temperature. We’re just under two miles out from the main building. The Horde has been assessed as running at, what? About thirty miles per hour? Even if they start sprinting the second we fire up the engines, it would take an alert ogre four minutes to reach us. And the boys have laid out a few extra deterrents to slow them down.”

“Such as?”

“We know our friends are wary of the new gravity mines, yes?”

“Yes, go on.”

“Well, see the two passenger liners here?” Sam pointed to one monitor in particular. “That’s the Horatius and the Cybele. They’re only four hundred yards out from the Tarion Star, and because they’re so large, we believe they’ll form a natural funnel as the pack tries to charge us.”

Mac assessed the positioning of the different craft abandoned in that vicinity. “I agree. So what have we got out there?”

“To tell the truth, Boss, not a lot. Stu didn’t think it necessary. Following our last mission, the Horde knows what we can do to them. The emphasis is to make them twitch a bit. Think twice, perhaps, about blindly rushing in. So he got Fonzy to drop a claymore out on the tarmac, about twenty yards in front of the choke point. Of course, they’ll recover from that almost instantly. But when they do, our screaming friends will run smack bang into the micro-gravity mines. There are only two, but they won’t know that, especially as Fonzy’s positioned them to collapse the ships in on each other.”

“I like your thinking. That should buy us the time we need, eh?”

“Yes!” Sam shouted, clenching his fist in victory.

“Eh?” Mac was startled by his colleague’s sudden enthusiasm.

“No more chores for three weeks, yeeeeha!” Sam pumped the air again.

“I take it you got your straight flush then?” Mac grinned as he realized what his colleague’s outburst related to.

“Sorry, Sir, but that was an important—hang on a second . . .”

Mac automatically tensed, and turned to scan the vicinity.

“Yes, yes. Roger that,” Sam replied, in response to an unknown message.

“Report?” Mac ordered.

“Mark’s just updated me, Sir. They’re ready to go and the science team is standing by to prime the computer core.”

At last.
“Right, let’s see who we can
flush
out then. Pun intended. Sam, advise our pilots it’s time to throw their cards in. All hands on deck, now. Once they’ve acknowledged you, lock your screens and prepare to embark.”

Staring up toward Boleni Mount, Mac continued, “Mark, this is Alpha. Do you copy?”

“Mark here. Go ahead.”

“You have about three minutes before things begin to hit the fan. The Tarion Star skidder’s on the way across to pick up our skimmer and noncombatants now. When they’re clear, we’ll power up the engines. As soon as you observe any signs of Horde activity, get Andy back inside the compound. Remember, you’ve got to hold for at least a week until Rhomane sends the permanent contingent to relieve you.”

“No problems, Boss. We’re dug in, fully prepared, and the last mines are going down as we speak. I can’t see us getting callers anywhere near this side of Christmas, so you don’t have to worry about us.”

“I won’t. Alpha, out.”

Mac could see the larger hovercraft closing from the direction of the cargo vessel. Nick was at the helm, along with one other civilian crewmate. Mac knew Stuart and Fonzy would already be inside the Tarion Star itself, ready to lay down covering firepower should anything go wrong during the preflight protocols.

“Sam. Are you ready?”

“Just coming.” Sam’s fingers flew across the keyboards. Powering down the terminals, he initiated a transfer of command overrides to Mac’s wrist com. “All done.”

Mac typed a code into his pad. The shimmering protective barrier surrounding the
Promulus
flared once, and folded into the floor. No sooner had Mac and Sam begun to ascend the gantry than the skimmer pilot maneuvered his craft toward the rear ramp of the skidder.

Mac shouted down, “Nick? You have one minute before I give the order for a world of pain to come calling. Deploy your shield and stay covert until you reach Rhomane’s northern doors. Do not stop for anything. See you on the other side.”

“Good hunting,” Nick replied, flashing a thumbs-up.

Mac grinned.
Yup! More professional every day.

Nick collected the skimmer and accelerated away. As Mac raised the protective curtain again, he initiated a blanket call. “All units, all units. Be advised. Promulus and Tarion Star will be initiating engine burn in T-minus sixty seconds from . . . now!

“Armed teams. You are to cover all exits and observe the enemy as they come to us. Activate enhanced optics on a rotating three band frequency, and then await further instructions regarding fire orders.

“Mark. Once you see the Horde begin their rush, leave it for thirty seconds and then get your guys to initialize the command reboot. Spook attention will be diverted, and you should be totally masked behind your screens. As the main display comes back online, you’ll be able to watch everything in high definition close-up. Should be quite a show.”