The Wind After Time: Book One of the Shadow Warrior Trilogy (26 page)

Joshua had an arm around the Al’ar’s thin chest. He pushed his way out, against the current, and was out of the survival pod.

He fought his way to the surface, swam a few strokes away from the sinking pod, and released Taen. He rolled on his back, forced his boots off, and let them sink. He unbuckled his gun belt, was about to release it, and stopped. He looped the belt around his neck and buckled it.

“Now we swim?” Taen inquired.

There was still nothing but the jamming roar to be felt through the transponder.

“Now we swim. You lie on your back, keep your head above water, and kick with me. Sooner or later we’ll either drown or hit the beach.”

“I shall not drown.”

Wolfe wondered what Taen meant, then put the matter out of mind.

Reach deep … the way is long … you have much power … your muscles are not torn, not aching … this is sport … breathe … breathe … now feel the sea, let it take you, let it wash you …

The pod was barely visible above the surface, rolling, about to sink, no more than thirty feet away.

A gray-green snake’s head as big as Wolfe’s body broke the surface, reaching ten feet into the air on a snake neck. Wolfe saw a flipper break the surface and turn the creature.

It glared down at the pod, hissed a challenge, struck, and screeched its agony as teeth chipped against the alloy steel. It struck once more, then turned, seeing the two beings in the water.

Wolfe’s fingers fumbled for the holster catch, lifting the retaining loop. The sea monster’s head lashed down; its fanged mouth struck the water just short of Taen. The Al’ar slapped the beast on the top of its jaws, a seeming touch.

Wolfe heard bones crunch, and the creature screamed and rolled over, showing a light green belly and four thrashing flippers. It came back up, shrilling, and pulled its head back like a cobra about to lunge.

Wolfe had his pistol out and touched the stud. A wave washed his arm, and the blast slammed past the monster’s neck. He fired once more, and the bolt hit the animal just below its skull. Ichor gouted over the water around them, and the animal thrashed, slamming into the sinking pod again and again.

Wolfe had Taen around the neck and was swimming hard, away from the pooling gore and the sea monster’s death throes.

“I don’t,” he managed, “want to see what this world imagines sharks to be like.”

“Do not speak,” Taen said. “Reserve your strength for the task ahead.”

Wolfe obeyed and let his free arm and legs move, move in muscle memory.

He fancied he could see the tree line ahead of him but knew better, for they were still too far out. He refused to allow himself hope, reminded his mind it was a drunken, careening monkey, swam on.

It might have been five strokes, it might have been five thousand, when the sky darkened.

Wolfe rolled on his back and saw the great ship descending toward them.

“Are we being rescued?”

Wolfe brought his mind back from where he had buried it and studied the starship through salt-burning eyes.

“No,” he said. “That’s an old Federation cruiser.
Ashida
class, I’m pretty sure.”

“Then release me. I shall go down to my death before I go into the hands of the Federation.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Wolfe said. “All of them got mothballed or broken up for scrap after the war. But this one didn’t.”

“Chitet!”

The static blur against his clavicle was gone, and a voice sounded:

“Stand by for pickup. If you have weapons, discard them. Any attempts at resistance will only produce your deaths. I say again, stand by for pickup.”

Wolfe had the pistol out, held just below the water.

“No,” Taen said. “Release the weapon. They will only shoot us in the water. Is it not better to let them pick us up and then meet our deaths when we have a better chance of taking some of them along to amuse us on our journey?”

Wolfe opened his fingers, saw the pistol sink down into green darkness.

The huge ship was only fifty feet above them, moving to one side, when the
Grayle
broke water, its hatch sliding open, less than ten feet away.

Wolfe was swimming desperately, once more grasping Taen as he felt heat from the Chitet cruiser’s drive sear him. He found a grab rail, pulled himself aboard, and rolled into the lock.

It cycled close behind him.

“Lift,” he gasped. “Straight off the water, full evasive pattern.”

“Understood.”

Gravity twisted and warped; then the ship’s AG took over, and he came to his feet.

“Screens!” He saw the bulk of the ship nearly overhead, to one side, the land, the sea below. The
Grayle
was skimming just above the water, accelerating.

Water spouted high to the right, where the
Grayle
would have been if it hadn’t jinked a second earlier. On another screen he saw the cruiser’s missile port snap closed and another open.

“Immelman, straight back at them.”

“Understood.”

He felt vertigo even through the artificial gravity as the ship climbed and rolled.

He grabbed a railing for support. Taen crouched on the deck nearby.

“Target … starship ahead.”

“Acquired.”

“Launch one!”

The cruiser was no more than ten miles distant when one of the
Grayle
’s tubes spat fire and the air-to-air missile smashed toward it.

Whoever was controlling the ship was very fast, recovering from amazement at receiving fire from what appeared to be no more than a yacht, and the former Federation warship banked away, climbing.

But Wolfe’s missile couldn’t miss at that range. It exploded into the Chitet cruiser near the stern, and the ship twisted in the blast.

“Offplanet!”

“Understood.”

The
Grayle
climbed at full drive.

In a side and then a rear screen, Joshua watched the Chitet ship flounder like a gaffed fish, smoke pouring from its wound.

The ship grew smaller, smaller still, and then they were in space.

“Three jumps. At random. No destination.”

“Understood.”

Joshua looked at Taen as the Al’ar got to his feet. He was suddenly very tired.

He
felt
Taen’s strength and a chilly, almost robotic companionship.

“And now it begins,”
the Al’ar said.

“Now it begins,” Joshua echoed.

The
Grayle
vanished into the cold fire of the stars.

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