War To The Knife (36 page)

Tamsin looked up with an eager smile as he came in. “How long until we hyper-jump out of the system?” she asked.

“There’s a problem.” Her face turned to stone as he explained what had been going on. “The ship won’t have a chance unless we distract the Satrap’s yacht, make it turn away to investigate the shuttle instead of trying to intercept this vessel. I need a few volunteers to come with me aboard the shuttle, including at least one person who knows how to work the electronics on that thing so it’ll broadcast the gravitic drive signature of another ship. I’m sorry, but it’ll be a one-way trip. The ship can’t come back to pick us up later, and the shuttle won’t have enough range to get back to Laredo.”

“Count me in,” Tamsin said as she stood up. “Mac taught all of us pilots how to use the EW systems on that bird. We can make it look like a destroyer or frigate, complete with the right drive signature and radar emissions to suggest that its fire control radar is locking up a target.”

Dave looked at her helplessly. “I want you to survive, darling,” he said softly.

She shook her head. “No. I
will
live with you, but I
won’t
live without you. If this is the way it has to be, and you have to go, we’ll do it together, one last time.”

Sergeant-Major Deacon said, “She’s right, Sir. I reckon we all feel the same way. We came on this mission together, so let’s finish it together.”

Dave struggled to find words. His shoulders slumped. “I really, really wanted to give most of you a chance to start again somewhere else,” he said softly. “If anyone ever earned that right, you all have. I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to, darling,” Tamsin said gently. “It’s already been said.”

He heaved a sigh. “All right. Let me tell Captain Grassby.”

He picked up an intercom handset and pressed the button marked ‘Bridge’. After a short pause, he heard, “Bridge, Communications console.”

“This is Captain Carson. Let me speak to Captain Grassby, please.”

“Captain Carson? But you just left!”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Your pilot, Tony, just left the ship in your shuttle. He said you were aboard.”

Dave’s jaw dropped in astonishment. After a moment he said, “No, I’m in our accommodation unit. Tell the Captain I’ll be there as quickly as possible.”

He slammed down the handset as he turned to the others. “Tony just launched in the shuttle! He was with me coming down the passage. I thought he came in right behind me.”

“No, Sir, he didn’t,” Deacon assured him.

“I don’t know what the hell’s going on, then! I’m going back to the bridge.” He turned and ran for the door, followed by everyone in the room.

They reached the bridge in a body. Grassby’s eyebrows rose as they all trooped in. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “I thought you were with your pilot – at least, that’s what he told me.”

“I’ve no idea, Sir. Has he communicated with you since he left?”

As if to answer Dave’s question, the Communications operator said, “Tight-beam link from the shuttle, Sir!” Without waiting for orders she put it over the speaker.

“Laredo shuttle to Captain Grassby, over.”

The Captain seized a microphone. “This is Grassby. Go ahead. Over.”

“Sir, I misled you, I’m afraid. I launched on my own while Captain Carson was asking for volunteers to accompany him. He’s going to be mad at me when he finds out. Over.”

“He’s just come to the bridge, along with the rest of his party. What the devil d’you think you’re playing at? Over.”

“I’m not playing, Sir. Please put Captain Carson on. Over.”

Grassby handed him the microphone. Dave said, “It’s me, Tony. Over.”

“Hi, Sir. Sorry about that, but you’re too good a man to die like this. I killed James and Mac through my stupidity earlier today. I need to atone for that, and I can’t think of a better way to do it than this. There’s one problem with your idea to decoy that Bactrian ship. What if it isn’t decoyed? It might realize your signals were fake, and ignore you and go after the ship anyway. You need a more certain way to stop it. I can do that for you, Sir. Over.”

“What do you mean? Over.”

“Remember how our pilots stopped two Bactrian troop transports when they first invaded Laredo, Sir? Over.”

“I –
oh!”
Dave was dumbstruck.

“That’s right, Sir. They steered their captured assault shuttles into head-on collisions with them, killing themselves and everyone aboard the enemy ships. I can do the same with this shuttle, Sir. It’s got that useful homing feature, where if I tune its systems to an enemy transmission – like the radar frequency being used by that Bactrian yacht – it’ll head straight for it. They won’t pick up a small craft like this until it’s too close for them to avoid, particularly if I use all its stealth features and minimum power on the drive. Over.”

Dave opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was completely at a loss for words.

Tamsin took the microphone gently from his hand and keyed it. “Tony, this is Tamsin. I think I speak for everyone when I say that we owe you our lives, buddy. If you hadn’t done this, we were all going to join Captain Dave on his last mission. All I can say is ‘Thank you’. Yes, you screwed up earlier today, but you’re making up for that and a whole lot more by what you’re doing now. Over.”

“I bet you say that to all the good-looking guys,” Tony quipped, drawing a short, sharp burst of brittle laughter from the others.

Dave took back the microphone. “Tony, Tamsin said it for me. Thanks, buddy. Is there anything more we can do to help you?”

“Let me speak to the ship’s captain, please. You take care of your lady, Captain, and have lots of kids together, you hear me? Oh – one more thing. If you get someplace that has a Hindu temple, burn some incense for James and I in front of a statue or icon of Yama, will you, please? Over.”

“We’ll do that. Stand by.”

He handed the microphone to the ship’s captain, who said, “Captain Grassby here. Go ahead, Tony. Over.”

“Captain, please give me the frequency of that Bactrian yacht’s search radar, and a course to steer to intercept her from this position assuming minimum acceleration on my part. Over.”

“Wait one.” He turned to the Plot. “Calculate that course, quick as you can. Comms, what’s the frequency?”

He waited impatiently for the information he needed, then passed it to Tony. “Remember you’re already moving at our speed towards the system boundary. When you reverse course, particularly at minimum power settings, you’ll decelerate very slowly from the velocity you’re already carrying. Your speed won’t be very high when you meet the Bactrian ship. Over.”

“Yeah, I know, but if she’s still moving fast that’ll make up for it. The kinetic energy release should be pretty spectacular. Over.”

“It certainly will. We’ll record it for the newsreels. Over.”

“All right, there’s no sense in talking any longer. I’m outta here. This is Tony, signing off for the last time.”

~ ~ ~

No-one left the bridge. Captain Grassby invited them to share the few visitors’ seats behind his command console, but nobody wanted to sit down. They stood against the walls, talking softly, desultorily among themselves, all eyes on the Plot display where the icon representing the Bactrian ship drew ever closer to their own position. At last, seemingly an infinity later, the Plot operator announced, “The shuttle should reach the yacht in the next three to five minutes.” Everyone gathered around the three-dimensional display, staring at it as if they could help Tony by willing him on.

Captain Grassby ordered, “Train the external cameras on that bearing and show the feed on the bridge display.” Within moments the large rectangular screen mounted on one wall flickered to life, showing the small bright ball of Laredo’s sun far behind them and a few dots that Dave knew were the planet itself and much more distant stars. He felt a shiver pass through him as he realized this might be the last time in his life that he would see Laredo.

They watched and waited in silence until suddenly a pinprick of light appeared in the display. It swelled from a point to a tiny globe, then faded out over the course of a minute or so. At the same time the icon representing the Satrap’s yacht vanished from the Plot display, replaced by a starburst icon. The operator announced urgently, “Nuclear explosion from the vicinity of the yacht, Sir! Her reactor must have let go!”

Grassby nodded slowly, sadly. “There won’t be any survivors from that. The nuclear explosion is actually insignificant compared to the kinetic energy released by a collision at that closing velocity between two bodies massing that much.” He drew a deep breath, then looked around. “He’s cleared the way for us. There are no other ships on the Plot except the Bactrian patrol vessel.” He indicated
Oxyartes’
icon, still about one light-hour behind them “She can’t catch us. We’ll be at the system boundary in just over an hour, and no ship can follow another once they’ve hyper-jumped. We’ll reach New Brisbane ten days from today.”

Tamsin crossed to where Dave still stared at the fading spot of light in the display, and slipped her arm around his waist. “A Hindu temple, he said?”

“Yes.”

“I reckon we’ll find one somewhere on New Brisbane.”

“We’ll do that. While we’re at it, let’s burn incense for everyone who died on Laredo today. There are bound to have been some other Hindus among them, and I daresay the others won’t object, whatever their faith may have been.”

“We’ll do that – and you and I have business with the first marriage officer we find.”

He hugged her. “It’s a date.”

April 2nd 2850 GSC

The morning was gray and cool. Rain fell in a soft, gentle mist from the lowering skies, trickling over the ground, forming muddy pools in the craters left all across Tapuria. Several fires still smoldered, their smoke sagging unhappily along the ground, unable to gain altitude in the heavy moist air. All over the city, Bactrian units attempted to gather the dead and make some sort of order out of the chaos that surrounded them.

A Colonel wearing combat field gear stood at the rear of his command shuttle, drinking a cup of coffee brought to him from a field kitchen set up nearby. He stared at the destruction all around him, drooping with weariness after the hard fighting that had finally died down only the evening before. He was about to take another sip of his coffee when he saw a utility vehicle approaching. A red-and-gold flag was flying from its front bumper. His eyes widened and he called, “Adjutant, an honor guard, quickly! The Crown Prince is coming!”

By the time the vehicle halted at the command shuttle half a dozen servicemen had been hastily drawn up in a line, and others were hurrying to join them; but the Crown Prince waved his hand dismissively as he got out. “No ceremony, please, Colonel Khan. Your soldiers have more than enough to do.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Would you like some coffee?”

“No, thank you. You’re the senior officer remaining on Laredo – I mean, Termaz.” The renaming of the planet had taken effect as of the previous day. “Have you compiled casualty lists yet? What’s the status of our forces?”

The Colonel glanced at the young Lieutenant who got out of the vehicle behind the Prince. Her name and reputation had already spread far and wide. He forced himself to refocus on his Crown Prince.

“Your Highness, it’s too early to be sure of our casualties, but they’re extraordinarily severe. The arena is the worst concentration. There were at least seven to eight thousand dead there, military and civilian, with as many again wounded, most of them seriously. Many have lost limbs. I’m afraid the arena is now known among my forces as the ‘Red Arena’, thanks to the amount of blood that was spilled there. Until this rain started the interior surfaces, grass and plascrete alike, were literally blood-red almost from top to bottom. Bodies and body parts were everywhere – one could almost have walked from one end of the arena to the other on them without ever touching the ground.”

“I’m aware of that, Colonel. I was there, remember?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Many of the young conscript troops detailed to the cleanup there have had to be relieved. They simply can’t take it.”

“I don’t blame them. About the casualties?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” The man visibly made an effort to collect himself. “Many bodies are still buried under rubble, and we can’t get into some buildings at all due to nanobugs and flitterbugs still lurking inside, looking for targets. The best I can say right now is that we have at least four thousand military fatalities, including those at the four garrisons the rebels attacked to get their hands on the assault shuttles they used to such terrible effect. We have more than three thousand wounded and over a thousand still missing. The Security Service contingent on the planet has been almost wiped out. Of their thousand-plus personnel, only fifty-five answered muster this morning.”

He took a deep breath. “I… I’m very sorry to report that we inflicted several hundred of our own casualties, Your Highness. The rebels were using captured assault shuttles to attack us, and captured vehicles to escape. In their attempts to defend themselves and prevent escapes, I fear our forces often fired on each other in the confusion. We shot down at least five of our own shuttles and destroyed at least forty of our own armored cars, trucks and transporters, to say nothing of soldiers firing at individuals without taking time to identify them.”

The Crown Prince nodded. “That was probably unavoidable under the circumstances. What about civilian casualties?”

“They’re heavy, Your Highness; certainly in excess of six thousand dead, with a similar number injured or not yet accounted for. Almost all are military and civil administrative employees who were at the arena or on duty in the buildings and installations that were destroyed. The rebels seem to have taken great care to avoid hitting residential areas. Many of the wounded will die, of course, because we have nothing like enough hospital beds or medical personnel to treat them all. Also, most of our medical supplies were destroyed in the depot.”