“Well, a med lab’s rapid healing worked for you. Although with your skull, you had nothing broken.”
“Your sympathy is noted. But if he and those men are here, what’s the urgency? We can beat them to wherever they’re riding and wait for them.”
“It’s because these are only the reinforcements. I Mind Tapped some information from one of the bartenders when I tipped him. He gave me the lead I then followed. I learned their main force was already gathered near Plains and Bison, before you were even shot. Your arrival, and being hired by the other side, simply speeded up their agenda, and it’s underway now.
“They intend to kill the SGA leaders, then go into Bison and hang or shoot anyone there that has opposed them in the past. That includes Lawyers, judges, the mayor, and leading citizens, doing it all under the guise that they have been part of this supposed gang, and have aided the rustlers, thieves, and killers.”
“A simple bartender knew all this?”
“No. The bartender overheard enough drunks talking, to know they discovered who has been leading the raids by the SGA faction, but he didn’t know what was going to happen. With his information to guide me, I went to the doctor’s office and asked the man I beaned with the shot glass, some leading questions. Slade said nothing, but nobody here knows how to block the simplest of thoughts. Edgerton and Gregos had moved a larger force into hidden positions last night, around a ranch where the SGA was having a supposedly secret meeting. They let the members of the group reach the meeting place before they sealed them off.”
“Damn it.” Ethan swore. “Kit and I were supposed to ride cross-country to get to Bison, learning the lay of the land as we went. I don't know how to contact the man that hired us. We were to meet him in Bison in three days.”
When they reached Wanderer, they told Bandit scan the sky for any shuttle operations nearby, and Carson asked it to repeat what the AI had told him earlier, about Tri-Vid news stories he’d asked it to monitor.
“Gentlemen,” the AI began, “it’s being reported that a large posse, led by a Sheriff Ackerman, of Plains, has a gang of rustlers surrounded, and there has already been some gunplay and several deaths on each side. There was an interview with one of the deputies in the posse, a Travis Clampton. He said the outlaws had hired a vicious off world killer, who was paid to murder law-abiding people who are only trying to stop the horse stealing, cattle rustling, and brand changing. He’s claimed to be controlled and paid by the SGA thugs responsible for all the wrong-doing.”
Carson grinned. “I heard a replay of Clampton’s actual interview. It sounds like you fit his description of the smelly assed, gun toting, odorous skugrat, which the SGA outlaws hired to help them.”
Ethan objected. “There aren’t any skugrats on Chisholm, you made that up.”
Shrugging, Carson admitted he’d adlibbed a little bit. “OK, fine. The deputy they interviewed actually called you a stinking marshslug, whatever that is, but I’m sure it must have been a complement. After all, skugrats are beneficial carrion eaters and swamp dwellers on Koban.”
He showed Carson a raised eyebrow. “That was a thoughtful comparison by you, I’m sure. However, Travis Clampton is a lying hired killer for Edgerton and Gregos, just like Jace, only he’s marginally smarter. The CCA has all of the news media and sheriff Ackerman in their pockets, and the other side isn’t going to get their story told. Anyone outside of Calder County will only hear the CCA’s version of the so-called truth.”
“I don't know. He sure seemed to have you pegged accurately, including the smell.”
Kit and Kobalt had heard these two lifelong friends pick on each other their entire lives, and they knew they’d each die to protect the other one. The ripper siblings were the more conservative members of the quartet of adventure seekers.
Kit asked, “I assume you think Ethan and I should rush over to Bison?”
“Not there. I recall you two said the man that hired you was a small rancher. The news that Bandit recorded says the supposed outlaws are barricaded on land grant property located between Plains and Bison, which is a cattle ranch called the Circle-C. Bandit learned it’s registered to a man named Jeff Chastain. Is that the full name of the man that hired you?”
“Yes! Damn. We need to get there as soon as possible, but we were never told exactly where his ranch is located, other than between Bison and Plains. He was going to meet us after we reached Bison. There’s no time for that Chisholm cowboy horseback crap now. We need to get there using the Wanderer.”
“Fast thinking, genius. That’s why I said we needed to head for the Wanderer. The ship I borrowed has no AI and no supplies, so we can let it sit where it is, in stealth mode.”
Bandit interrupted. “Carson, you asked me to scan for local flights around Trail’s End. There are two shuttles inbound from the south. Their profiles are larger than a typical passenger model, and they match the description of the shuttles used here for transporting livestock.”
Carson snapped his fingers. “I was expecting those. They’re for transporting Jace’s men and their horses.”
Ethan finished the thought. “They’ll lead us to the Circle-C.”
****
They walked Beau aboard the Wanderer, and secured the horse against possible uncompensated inertia by the reactionless gravity drive. When the two livestock shuttles lifted again, the stealthed Wanderer rose silently, climbing to a point well above and slightly behind them.
Ethan was anxious. “Damn this is slow going. We could be there in five minutes if we knew where the ranch was.”
“We have at least thirty or forty minutes, so let’s decide what the four of us can do.” Carson proposed.
“Chastain didn’t hire you or Kobalt, but I owe you and I’ll give you what they pay me. Except, if the SGA is wiped out or perhaps if just Chastain is killed, I’ll not get my other half pay to share with you. I already spent most of my first half advance.”
“Forget that. Kobalt and I aren’t here for the SGA. We came here for you and Kit. We’re in all the way, paid or not. Although, if we help you save the butts of the people that hired you, I think they’ll appreciate the fact that the four of us against…,” He paused. “How many do you think there might be, anyway?”
Ethan shook his head. “Not sure now, but Brethard had complaints about his share of paying for almost a hundred hired guns to conduct raids, with big bonus payments to five men that always acted alone, killing designated hard core, and outspoken opposition members. There are ordinary ranch hands that are sympathetic to keeping the open range policy unchanged, who probably believe the stories they’ve been told, that they are closing in on the real rustlers and killers. I’d think there might be fifty or so men present that are just honest cowboys, here because the sheriff asked them to be deputies in his posse. Certainly not everyone in the posse is a paid gunman, and I’d hate to shoot the average cowboy down like the cold killers they’re running with.”
“There may be some collateral damage. With just four of us, it ain’t as if we can surround them.”
Kit had a proposal. “How about some ripper herd driving and flanking attacks. That always spooks herds at home, and they panic and break into smaller and disorganized packs. If we can identify some of the hired killers in the mix, they can become the visible examples of the dangers they’re all facing. I’m sure noisy ripper roars from four different directions would be rather unnerving to humans, who won’t know how many of us there are.”
Ethan rubbed his chin. “Four rippers roaring? How do we do that? They have to be in different places, and move around. You two can’t be everywhere.”
Kit offered a sinister toothy expression, and explained how they could.
****
As the Wanderer watched the two shuttles land far below them, the sun had just set behind the peaks of the Cougar mountain range. From their position five miles above, the positions of the posse became obvious as nine sheltered campfires marked a ragged circle around a dark inte
rior area, which contained a ranch house, a large barn, and two smaller outbuildings. There was wood smoke coming from the ranch house chimney, suggesting it was occupied, but no lights showed anywhere deep inside the circle.
A probable reason for the lack of lights at the center was two bodies, which lay in the open ground between the barn and the house, and one dead horse. Sensors spotted two or three men on each of five knolls that provided overlooks of the ranch house and its structures. The two bodies could have been victims of snipers, firing from perhaps a half mile away.
There also were ten longhorns lying dead in a feedlot, located off to the side of the barn. It appeared the CCA held all of the high ground around the small fertile valley, with a small stream flowing through prime grazing land.
Kit, using the sensor close ups, asked, “Why did they shoot the cattle? I understand that men can fight back, and the horse could be an accidental death when they shot those two men. But the cattle were no threat and not in the line of fire. It’s a waste of meat.” She harbored the age-old ripper revulsion for kills that served no purpose.
Ethan, thinking beyond a human’s need for food, knew why. “Aside from sheer meanness by the snipers, they would have provided some cover for the SGA men to move about behind them after dark. The shooters likely have infrared sights, and staying behind a Giant Longhorn could have let some of the trapped men reach the tree line. I doubt the CCA intends to let anyone trapped here to escape, or live to tell their story at trial.”
“Ethan, do you have any idea how many people might have met here with Chastain? How many men they may have down there, to help us help them?”
“No. He kept what he told us to a minimum, but I don't think there are more than a dozen active raiders to counter the hundred or so the SGA hired. He’s married and has a child, so they could all be in the house or barn. The sensors show many warm spots around the house, and over a dozen in the barn, but the barn is where their horses will be, and I’m sure there must be chickens and smaller animals on a ranch. There might be men in the barn, but I don't know. I don’t see warmth from the two smaller outbuildings. With two lying dead in the yard, they may have been the final arrivals that the snipers picked off, and most everyone else would be in the house.”
Carson had been looking at the distribution of the posse. “I see four remudas, where they gathered their horses. All of them are tied off to ropes strung between trees on the backside of the four larger hillocks, where most of their snipers are located. All their men are on foot, spread around behind trees and rocks. There are flashes from time to time from the men in the trees and on the hilltops, so they are keeping those in the house pinned down with frequent shots. There is an occasional flash from the house, so they have the open ground from the trees covered. I’d expect the CCA to start moving men closer to the house, as the sky grows darker.”
Ethan checked with Bandit, and said, “The moon won’t rise until nearly three in the morning, so it’s going to stay dark for hours. That helps us too. We can see them and they’ll be nearly blind.”
Carson asked, “Where do you think we should hit them first? How steady are these men in a fight? Any of them veterans from the war?”
Ethan considered. “Most of the hired gunmen are vets or deserters, or career criminals, and most came from off Chisholm. The average cowboy isn’t a bad sort, and probably has never been in a shootout. You and I need to put on the torso of the armor I have onboard, and let the two cats to link to their systems by Comtap. This provides us with no stealth but we’ll have battery power for the external speakers, and pistol ammo can’t penetrate.”
“You don’t want to use the full suit capability, energy beams, stealth and all? Our heads and limbs will be exposed.”
“The CCA doesn’t have military spec armor or weapons, and those are prohibited on Chisholm anyway. I’d rather not be subject to a war crimes accusation when this is over. Some of the hired guns have basic upper body armor, so we can have that as well, and we need the speakers anyway.”
The two of them slipped into the form fitting clamshell hard armor that covered their vital organs and checked the battery power.
Carson asked. “What now good buddy? This is your show.”
“I think running off the horses should be the first targets for Kit’s plan to work best. If the regular cowboys find themselves on foot in the dark, with rippers hunting their asses, that should generate some panic. When we make examples of some of the hard case killers at the sniper outposts, the word will spread and make some of those cowhand volunteers want to get the hell away from here. Or at least they’ll forget about attacking the ranch house and want to hunker down or run away, to save their asses.”
Carson nodded. “Do you think Egerton and Gregos will be here, or other big shots in the CCA? I’d think you’d like to have them for Mind Taps.”
“I do. And if we don’t have to kill them, we can learn who paid for and ordered the various murders and raids. They must have left some sort of digital trail, or have men who will testify.”
Carson checked the weakening light in the sky, and the shadowed terrain below. “It’ll be fully dark by the time we’re in position, and only you have a horse. Bandit can drop me first, you last, and the cats can move faster than either one of us in the dark. We’ll coordinate and hit them together. I’ll see if I can pick a good horse still saddled. I’ve not ridden one before. Tap me and tell me how you guide them.”
A few seconds of mental sharing was enough, and Carson knew all that Ethan had learned about riding. “I won’t have time to teach a horse about Kobalt and Kit, so you two keep your distance from me until I can convince it you won’t bite.”
“But we do!” Kobalt said wickedly, eager for the night hunt to start.
Ethan got the mission started. “Bandit, set Carson down to the north side, Kit and Kobalt on the east and west, and I’ll offload on the south. I want you to hold overhead at a mile or so, in case the CCA has some prohibited beam weapons, like that plasma rifle Brethard had.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Hey,” Carson thought of something. “I left my pistol on the borrowed ship.”
“Don’t whine. Take one away from some cowboy. I thought you were a bad assed Kobani.”
“I am, but I see you have a pistol, and a rifle.”
“True. Because I’m a smart Kobani, and I keep my guns with me. ”
“Ha. I heard you don’t shower with them.”
Both cats continued to chuff quietly at Ethan’s expense, until they each were dropped off.
Chapter 7: Blood Bath Aftermath
Four Comtap checks verified the four attackers were in place.
Ethan confirmed the signal. “Kit, Kobalt, we start on your voices.”
The earsplitting roars came so swiftly that it nearly startled the two Kobani, who been expecting the blast of sounds from the amplified speakers built into the chest plates of their armor.
It did more than startle the men left to watch the four strings of horses, not to mention the instant panic from the animals themselves.
One man, relieving himself on a tree, found his stream instantly dried up, and he was too busy trying to put away his fragile software to reach for his hardware, when the shadowy source of the terrifying sound passed close between him and his small campfire. The silhouette of a massive carnivore snarled and tore at the ropes tethering the string of horses to the trees, allowing them to flee. The animals, utterly routed and in a panic, ran in all directions from the dark roaring monster suddenly in their midst.
One horse nearly trampled the man, who quit fumbling at the fly of his pants to ward off the terrified screaming animal as it nearly trampled him. It knocked him backwards on his butt, and then the dark beast was suddenly straddling him, the glowing blue sparks of its eyes staring into his. This caused the previously shock terminated stream of amber fluid to resume its coursing, striking his own abdomen, but only after deflecting from the belly of the snarling creature loo
ming over him.
The snarling visage, visible in the firelight, took on a look of annoyance as the head descended towards the screaming man, who was too frightened to remember he had a gun. His hands tried to push away what he believed was death incarnate coming to end his life.
“You peed on me you miserable little worm.” Was the silent thought that entered the mind of the cowboy. “Stop screaming, I won’t kill you. At least not yet. Are you a hired gun or a volunteer for the posse?”
“You’re one of those Koban cats. Please don’t kill me.”
“I have your thoughts now. You aren’t one of those I came to kill. Undo your gun belt and let it lay here when I let you up to run away. I’m reading your mind. If you reach for the gun, I’ll tear off your head.”
The man undid his gun belt then waited to be let up, whimpering with fear as saliva dripped onto his forehead. Suddenly, he felt what he thought was his own hot blood soaking his legs and crotch. “You said you wouldn’t kill me,” he shrieked in fear.
“I won’t. I pissed on you to return the insult.” It backed away, and its voice now came from a small fob below its neck. “Where are most of the hired killers of the CCA positioned? I know you know who some of them are. Is Egerton and Gregos with them?”
“Three or four men with fancy rifles are on each of the hills overlooking the ranch. Two or three of them are just up the hill here. Gregos was up there earlier.” He pointed behind Kobalt.
“You have not fired a shot and are no killer. I’ll let you live. If you return here, I’ll rip your body open and watch you die.” One massive claw was held over the man’s face, with four-inch black claws fully extended. “Go.” he ordered. Kobalt backed farther away and watched as the cowhand scrambled to his feet, turned and promptly ran into a tree.
Koban Universe 2: Have Genes, Will Travel Page 29