Their Master's War (27 page)

Dyrkin and the others climbed out of the trench. The saucer crew seemed unwilling to leave its shelter. Maso was about to say something, but Rance cut him off.

"Did you think it was going to be easy?"

"We're going to get ourselves killed here."

"So what else is new?"

"You conned me, Rance."

Rance turned to go. "Take it or leave it. It doesn't matter to me. Now you've got us here, we ain't going to sweat it if you don't go the rest of the distance."

He started walking away. The troopers fell into step behind him. The saucer crew reluctantly followed. In the open spaces, people moved very fast. They tended to congregate in areas of cover. Most seemed to have little to do but wait. At regular intervals, a steamer would drop into the area. Their detonations had producted an acne of craters between ten and fifteen meters across. There was a burned-out digger beside where two craters overlapped. It appeared to have been bulldozing the first crater flat when the second missile hit. The field police, identifiable by the gray tabards that they wore over their suits and the starbursts on their helmets, prowled in groups of five or six. They were constantly stopping and questioning individuals. Rance and his party moved from one piece of cover to the next, doing their best to avoid them in a way that didn't appear furtive. While they were taking a breather in the shadow of a crawler, they saw their first execution. Seven men, naked except for their facemasks and placards that hung around their necks and proclaimed them to be deserters, were forced to their knees around the rim of a crater. The head-hunters stood behind them and burned each man in the back of his head. The bodies toppled forward into the crater, and a digger moved up to fill it in.

"Deserter seems to be the key word."

"We better make sure that we don't qualify."

Dacker opened his mask and spit. "Lucky we got our topman with us." They reached the dome without drawing the attention of the police. The pressure lock was guarded by two troopers. Rance saw this as definite good luck. Troopers he could handle.

"Topman Rance. I'm here to collect my orders."

The guards treated him to a look of battle-tired irony. "You ain't going to find out no orders in there."

"I've got to give it my best shot."

"Suit yourself." The guard nodded toward the others. "Just you, though; the rest got to stay outside." Within, Rance found the expected chaos. Riggers were still working on the main status board, and nothing was netted. Some equipment was functioning, but some still had to be unpacked. As far as he could see, there was some communication with the cluster and with the various main units down on the planet. Controllers were monitoring incoming flights, but nothing was coordi nated. Unless they quickly got into the brain net, the evacuation would turn into a locked backup and nobody would get off JD4-1A. An overman in dress tans held down a first-line information desk just inside the entrance. He looked too young to be a combat noncom; he was probably some rear-echelon jerkoff. He regarded Rance with an expression of resigned boredom. "You want something?" Rance pulled off his mask. "I want to get on an open line to my ship's e-vacs."

"You and everyone else. You got authority?"

Rance lied without hesitation. "I got my orders over the command channel. I was to pull out and get here as fast as possible to bring my e-vacs down."

The overman half smiled. "Your e-vacs?"

"Mye-vacs."

"Who gave you these orders?"

"How the hell should I know? I was in the middle of a firelight at the timer"

"I'm afraid that won't be good enough. Without tangible authority from an officer, you ain't going to get out of here at all."

"So check on my orders."

"Check?"

"Get on to the Ten River task force and confirm my orders."

"You're out of your fucking mind."

Rance placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Watch your mouth, sonny." The overman wasn't intimidated. "For a start, nobody's getting anything confirmed right now. And if that ain't enough of a problem, we ain't heard from the Ten River task force in over a hundred minutes. For all we know, there may not be a Ten River task force. The enemy are popping up all over. They must have been waiting for this."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Hope the field police don't take a dislike to your

face."

Rance took a deep breath. "Let's look at this another way. How many officers are there in this area?"

"There may be a couple of parties waiting for a ship, but most of them have lifted out."

"So there may be no officers at all in the area?"

"No functioning officers, that's for sure."

"And we're virtually cut off by the enemy except in the air?"

"Whatever you're thinking about, forget it. You won't get out of here without authority."

"Are there any other topmen here?"

The overman sighed and jerked his thumb toward the other side of the dome. "Yeah, there's a bunch of them over there making a nuisance of themselves."

"Just like me?"

"You said it."

"Is anybody going to stop me going over there?"

The overman shrugged. "Not me."

Rance walked past the desk. A group of five topmen were gathered around a communication console, arguing with the operator. From their expressions, they didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Rance recognized two of them. There was Benset from the
Anah 5
and Kalgol from the
Anah 2.
They both turned as Rance approached the group.

"Hey, Rance, what's going on?"

"Just trying to get myself off this forsaken planet. Everyone I talk to seems to be a complete asshole."

"So what else is new?"

"I don't intend to get stuck on this rock."

"The Yal are going to slaughter everyone who's left behind, and that's a fact."

"There's going to be plenty left behind, too."

"I take it that none of you have any kind of authorization?"

"There ain't no authorization." "You got any ideas?" Rance lifted off his helmet and ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair. "It seems to me that since the officers have all run, we should be technically in command here."

"Chain of command, right?"

"Right."

Benset rubbed his chin. He hadn't shaved in days. "The field police may not see it that way."

"They've pretty much taken over this evacuation," Kalgol added.

"Bastards."

"Maybe we should go talk to their commandant."

"We could just get ourselves shot."

"What other choice do we have?"

Kalgol looked at Rance. "You got any men with you?"

"Four of my longtimers. They wouldn't let them in here. I've also got the crew of the saucer we rode in on."

"Saucer crews ain't worth spit on the ground."

"I got some old boys outside dodging the head-hunters," another topman said. It turned out that all but one of the topmen had each brought a handful of men with them.

"If push came to shove, we could take an e-vac by force."

"You got a point there."

A topman with
Anah 7
patches looked thoughtful. "I think we should talk to the head cop first. Between us, we've got enough muscle to stop them screwing with us."

Benset nodded. "So what are we waiting for?" The group of topmen replaced their masks and helmets and headed for the dome's pressure lock. Outside,

they discovered Dyrkin, Renchett, Dacker, and Hark standing guard along with the two original troopers. There was no sign of the saucer crew. "What's going on here?" Renchett looked mock rueful. "We lost the flyboys." "How?"

"The headhunters came calling." "And?"

"We told them that we'd been assigned here. These guys—" He pointed to the original troopers.

"—didn't say anything to contradict us. The flyboys weren't as fast on their feet, so the headhunters took them away. They were muttering something about desertion."

"And you didn't do anything to help them?"

"What could we do? We'd come up with a plausible story. It wasn't our fault that they couldn't." One of the topmen grunted. "I said that saucer crews weren't worth spit on the ground." The other topmen started gathering up the men they'd brought with them. Dyrkin and Renchett looked ques-tioningly at Rance.

"What's going on?" Renchett asked.

"We're going to see the field police commandant."

Dacker scowled. "From where I'm standing, that sounds like a bloody silly idea. We just had a run-in with those pigs."

"We've got to start taking control around here."

The other troopers started joining the group by the dome. All had the battered equipment and closed faces that were the hallmarks of the hardened longtimer. They gathered silently; there was little unnecessary conversation. When everyone had emerged from shelter, there were eighteen in all. Benset nodded grimly.

"This should be enough to make an impression. You want to tell them, Rance? It was your idea." Rance nodded.

"Okay, listen up," he said. "The object of the exercise is to get off this planet and back to the ship while we still can. What seems to be stopping us at the moment is that the headhunters are in practical control of the field. Our objective is to take that control for ourselves. Or at least enough of it to get us all onto an e-vac and off planet. You follow me so far?"

There were a number of reluctant nods. Nobody looked happy.

"The central police post is in a bunker across the area, due north. We've got the firepower of almost a full twenty and the experience of a whole combat group between us, and we have to demonstrate that no one can push us around. We'll go to the police bunker in force. When we get there, we'll give their commandant one chance to cooperate. After that, we start leaning. We are going to get off this planet, and nobody is going to stop us. You understand me? Nobody. If we have to, we'll use any force necessary. If we are forced to fire, we won't hesitate. A lot of men are going to be left behind for the Yal, and we are not going to be among them."

Though the men weren't exactly standing tall, tired but fatal belligerence had taken hold of them. They knew that they were an elite, and they were tired of being messed around. Rance wished that he were as confident as he sounded. There were enough headhunters crawling around the area to be a real problem. They started across the area in a tight skirmish formation. Men actually came out of cover to look at them. Field police groups followed them at a distance, but none approached. Rance glanced across the cleared hilltop. There were storm clouds gathering in the east. There would be rain soon. The spectators ducked as a streamer exploded on the other side of the field. The troopers went right on walking. The police bunker was almost completely under ground. There was just a low hump where a buried dome had been covered with banked and fused earth. It was the standard practice for quickly creating a protected command center. The police commandant had taken much more care with his lair than anyone had with the actual evacuation center. Four armed guards stood at the top of the steps that led down into the bunker. They stiffened as the troopers approached but seemed unsure of how to respond. They were heavily outnumbered even though more of their kind were within shouting distance.

Rance continued to assume command.

"You troopers fan out and cover our backs; we don't want any of those cop units coming over here and interfering. Topmen, we'll go talk to the guards."

The troopers walked slowly backward, their guns pointed at the following police. The topmen marched directly up to the four bunker guards.

"Step aside, we're going in."

The center guard, the tallest of the four, shook his head. "I can't allow that. I have orders not to admit anyone but police personel."

Rance pushed his face very close to the guard's and stared into his visor.

"And I'm countermanding those orders. Do you know who I am, boy?"

"No, Topman, I don't know who you are."

"I'm your new commander, boy. Now that there are no officers left, we topmen are in charge."

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Rance roared in the man's face.

"I..." The guard faltered.

Rance gestured to the other topmen. "Disarm them." The guards hesitated for a fraction too long before they raised their weapons. That was more than enough

for the topmen. They had the MEWs out of the head-hunters' hands in one smooth, concerted movement. Rance peered down the stairs.

"Kalgol, take ten men and secure this entrance. I don't want anyone getting in here."

"Check."

"The rest of you follow me inside. It'll be a classic bunker clearing. They've probably seen us coming, but I doubt they'll expect a frontal assault. Benset and Dyrkin, I want you both up here beside me. I'm taking the point."

Instantly they were a team. They exchanged glances and plunged down the stairs. They went into the bunker fast, peeling off in twos into each room and passage. The men inside were calmly going about their routine duties. Most were in shirtsleeves, totally unprepared for being suddenly engulfed by armored troopers who wouldn't take no for an answer. It was hot in the bunker; there had been no time to install a cooling system. Six head-hunters, clad only in their underwear, were actually hustled from their beds and lined up against the wall with their hands above their heads. The only token resistance came in the main control room when a subkapo tried to draw his sidearm. An MEW was thrust into his face before he could clear the weapon from its holster.

"Shall we all relax?"

Rance looked slowly around at the faces of the occupants. Most of the field police in the nerve center were bunched around the central plot dais. None of them seemed inclined to make trouble. He spoke into his communicator.

"Area secure. How are things on top, Kalgol?"

"Everything's quiet. The headhunters are keeping their distance. It looks like it's going to start to rain any minute."

"Just hang in there."

The field police commandant pushed his way to the front of the knot of men by the plot dais. He was a portly individual clearly not recently accustomed to action. His head was shaved, and a livid scar ran down his right cheek. A tag on his tabard stated that his name was Mai-tov.