Was Once a Hero (28 page)

“Fenaday,”
came the speaker voice.
 
It was Micetich
again, sounding out of breath.
 
“Do you
have any suggestions as to how we can aid you?”

“I
do,” he replied coldly.
 
“Let’s start
with the preliminaries.
 
First, you and
your fellow mutineers are under arrest.
 
I will reserve the decision to proffer charges, at this point—that will
depend on your cooperation.”

“Fenaday,”
Micetich said, “we will want your assurances, on the record, that if we get you
off-world, my people go to the Confed Navy, alive.
 
I’m sure Death’s Angel has already been
making plans for me.
 
We just want to
live.
 
Some of us have followed you into
a lot of tight places, and we won’t abandon you here—”

“For
four weeks,” Mmok muttered.
 
Fenaday
glared him into silence.

“—if
we can avoid it,” Micetich finished.
 
“What do you have in mind?”

“I
need evac on my wounded, fast.
 
I want
both
Wildcat
fighters sent down.
 
You will find two stretcher pods in Stores
Bay Five.
 
I want full reloads sent down
in the fighters, along with every land mine and all the barrier wire there
is.
 
Also, three days rations.
 
Send the wire and ammunition first.
 
We have enough food and medical for a few
days.
 
Dr. Mourner will give you a list.
 
Telisan will give you a list of spares we
need for equipment.
 
I want that drop
ASAP, Micetich.
 
What’s the orbital
window?”

“By
the time we get this together,” she responded, “daybreak tomorrow.
 
Even if I just send the fighters with what
can be scraped together fast, the earliest window is for nineteen hundred
standard.”

“Damn,”
Fenaday said.
 
“We are not going to weather
another night here.
 
We are moving to an
island closer to the mainland.
 
Fury, get
the coordinates of the first one we flew over coming out here.
 
Micetich, schedule your arrival at the
coordinates she gives you.”

“Wait
one, Fenaday,” Micetich replied.
 
Two
long minutes passed.
 
“O.K. ground base,”
she responded.
 
“I have volunteers, one
of yours and one of ours.
 
Only one
fighter will land at a time.
 
The one
flown by your guy will be unarmed.

“Understand
this, Captain,” she continued, “we don’t want a fight.
 
Don’t load the stretchers with anybody who
isn’t wounded.
 
It won’t work.
 
We will get you all off, but you and Rainhell
come up last and the HCRs do not come at all.
 
We will surrender once you’re on board, provided we get your recorded
assurance you will turn everyone over to Confed Navy.
 
I want it witnessed by Duna and Telisan.”

“Affirmative.
 
Fenaday, out.”
 
He sat back in the flight chair, resisting
the urge to begin swearing.

“She
planned it well,” Duna said quietly, “poor frightened child.”

Mmok
made a sound of disgust and turned his back to them.

“The
Shellycoats,” Telisan began, “are becoming smarter and more numerous.
 
Something on this world is waking up and
becoming more aware of us.
 
Not all at
once.
 
It seems to be working in fits and
starts, else we would all be dead.
 
It is,
however, waking.
 
It will take weeks of
landings to evacuate this way. We will not last that long.”

“We
won’t make it,” Shasti added without any evident concern, “even with resupply
and better tactics.”

“Unless,”
Duna said, “we carry the fight to the enemy.
 
Our only chance is to go to Barjan and destroy it.”

“Destroy
what?” Mmok snapped, turning to face them.
 
“We don’t know what it is, or where it is.
 
Whatever force is operating here destroyed an
entire planetary defense establishment and part of a fleet.
 
We have a crew of cutthroats, screw-ups and a
few pros.
 
We are fucked.”

“I
have a theory about our opponent,” Duna said raising a hand.
 
“I will not know much more till we get to the
Barjan Deep excavation where poor Creda died.
 
What I know is what I see.
 
Our
enemy is stupid and aimless.
 
We were
only unlucky last night.
 
But for the
poor fool in the shuttle, we would have stood off the attack, powerful as it
was, with little loss.”

“There
was the aware one at the end,” Fenaday said, as if reluctant to even remember
the image.

“Yes,”
Duna replied.
 
“I believe the force that
released itself from the Barjan Deep and spread over the world did not do so
instantly, but over the space of a few hours.
 
For all we know, the Shellycoats, as you call them, were moving for
days, unseen and unfelt.

“Then
it struck with near simultaneity over the globe.
 
I think it reserved its greatest powers for
the space stations and the military bases.
 
Later, it struck against the fleet.
 
These attacks were well planned and coordinated.”

“What
explains our survival here?” Shasti asked.
 
“Why aren’t Shellycoats manifesting themselves inside our
perimeter?
 
Why not inside this shuttle?”

Everyone
but Duna and Shasti looked around the shuttle’s interior nervously.

“That
may be what happened on the
Wolverine
shuttles,” Duna replied. “The same fate has not overcome us because, as Telisan
suspects, the central guiding intelligence that assaulted the planet is not
active.
 
Perhaps it no longer exists, or
is damaged.
 
Or it may be that the
central directing authority is not as yet aware of us.
 
We are facing lesser parts of it, lesser
forces perhaps.

“I
believe we are presently below the level of intelligent awareness of our
enemy.
 
His automatic systems, or
outposts if you will, attack us when we encounter them.
 
The longer we are here, the more of them we
provoke.
 
As we provoke more reaction,
higher levels of the enemy become aware and attack us more effectively.
 
As they fail, they call on higher levels
still.
 
Eventually, the guiding
intelligence that directed the original strike, if it still exists, will be
awakened.
 
We will be destroyed almost
immediately afterward, I fear.

“These
Shellycoats are only one manifestation of their powers.
 
A massive electromagnetic pulse was used on
the planet and later against Telisan’s fleet. We have seen evidence of its
ability to influence storms, perhaps to direct lightning.
 
Some such weapon was used on the ships of
Gigor base.
 
I have no doubt that the
efficiency with which it works goes up many hundreds of times if the directing
mind comes on line.”

“So,”
asked Telisan, “how long do we have till the Thunder God wakes up?”

“I do
not know, youngling,” replied Duna.
 
“Days, weeks, never?
 
I have
speculation based on ancient legends and incomplete observation of our
circumstances.”

“Days,
I think,” said Fenaday.
 
“Just a feeling
I have,” he added, as the others looked at him, “maybe from being in physical
contact with the thing.
 
It’s also the
only prudent option for planning.”

“We
can’t get off-world in days,” Mmok growled.

“Maybe
if we get to Barjan spaceport—” Telisan began.

“And
trust ourselves to unmaintained and unfamiliar ships?” Shasti said.
 
“It took a full dockyard of two hundred
shipwrights, plus our full crew, working round the clock to get
Sidhe
ready for space in five days.”

“True,”
Fenaday said, “but we are not talking about interstellar travel.
 
We just need to hop far enough out of this
gravity well for the ship to pick us up.
 
Launch is the most dangerous part of the voyage to be sure, but if we
could make a vessel space-worthy for an eight-hour flight, it would be
enough.
 
We might also find human-built
ships at the port; that would make things easier.”

“What
of the Confed shuttles?” Duna asked.

Telisan
waved a dismissive hand.
 
“The
electronics were fried; nothing worked on them.
 
They are of a much newer variety than these
Dakotas
; the equipment is
incompatible.”

“Why
would it be any different at the port?” Shasti said.

“Remember
my computer,” Duna said.
 
“It was
off-line at the time of the EMP.
 
It does
not appear that the EMP blast hit all places on the planet or hit with equal
strength.
 
The EMP appears to have been
directed—though how such a thing is possible, I do not know.

“We
might find functioning equipment in Barjan.
 
Remember the lights on the night side?
 
They were reestablished by secondary systems after the mains were
knocked out.
 
Perhaps the various
embassies, with their reserve power sources, would be a place to start.
 
We need a vessel that either was not hit by
EMP, or where the essential equipment was off-line at the time,” Duna
concluded.

“Telisan,”
Fenaday said, “get a download from the ship.
 
See if there is power operating in Barjan.”
 
The Denlenn nodded and headed for the
communications panel.

“Back
to defense,” Shasti said.
 
“Do we take a
force into Barjan, leaving the others in some more isolated location?”

“Would
that help?” Fenaday said bitterly.
 
“I
thought we were isolated here.”

“There
is an answer to that too,” Mmok said.
 
“I
sent my air scout out after the weather broke.
 
It was too stormy last night to keep the thing in the air; they are
rather fragile.

“Anyway,
some sort of immense, ocean-going platform fetched up on the other side of the
island.
 
It wasn’t there when we came
in.
 
It doesn’t register any power.
 
Those imbeciles on the
Sidhe
must have seen it drifting and didn’t regard it as a
threat.
 
More damn bad luck.”

Telisan
returned.
 
“There is some power showing
in Barjan,” he reported, “mostly lights.
 
I have satellite photos on their way, being printed in the
computer.
 
It will take a few seconds.”

Fenaday
thought for a minute.
 
He rubbed eyes he
only belatedly realized were very sore.
 
“I am not going to split the force,” he decided.
 
“I want to pull out of here for the other
island we overflew coming out.
 
We will
overnight there and come into Barjan in the early morning.
 
Then we make for the port and establish a
defended site.
 
Search parties will look
for a likely ship to get us out of here.”

He
paused.
 
“A small party using all of our
robots will accompany me as we attempt to locate our enemy’s headquarters,
point of origin, whatever, and blow it to hell.”
 
There was quiet at the table as he
finished.
 
Outside, the rain started
again, lightly.
 
Fenaday felt very alone.

“How
will we attack it once we find it?” Telisan asked.
 
There was a slight heartwarming stress on the
‘we.’

“Yes,”
Shasti said.
 
“We will likely have only
one chance.
 
It must be carefully
planned.”
 
She didn’t look directly at
him.

“I’m
going to order
Sidhe
to soft-land a
nuclear warhead from a Mark Nine missile on Barjan field tonight,” Fenaday
said.
 
“They can use an escape capsule
with a homing beacon.
 
We’ll pick it up
when we go in.”

“Why
not fire on the target from orbit?” Fury asked from the pilot’s chair.

Fenaday
frowned at her for speaking, but answered anyway.
 
“It is the Barjan
Deep
, Lieutenant.
 
Enshar
dig their cities in.
 
The best protection
in the universe is a couple hundred meters of earth and rock.
 
Even a mass drive has trouble with hardened
underground targets through atmosphere.
 
Besides, what would I use for a target?”

“Barjan
is a huge city,” Duna added.
 
“It has
been occupied for many millennia.
 
It is
wide, and by our standards, somewhat shallow because of the taboo on digging in
the Deep itself.
 
Still, it is more than
deep enough to be considered a hardened site.
 
A mass driver would destroy the fragile ships at the port long before it
got anything far underground.
 
I am
afraid the Captain is right.”