“Maybe,” said the war chief, his gill slits opening and closing rapidly, a sign the Humans had come to interpret as anxiety. “Nothing we can do about it now. Even if we move at our best speed, we are four hours away.”
“And you don’t care what happens?” Dotty asked.
The war chief hopped quickly over to the lieutenant/medic, gill slits working furiously. Jonah readied to raise his weapon if the being attacked his officer.
“Of course I care,” croaked the warrior, his face close to Dotty’s. “Those butchers are heading for my home, and I should be there to fight them, even if it means my death. But the chief tasked me with this mission. Even if I wanted to disobey, it would not matter. Whatever they are going to do will be done before I can return.”
The warrior turned on his heel and hopped off, not saying another word. The rest of the Kalagarta stared at the nearest Humans, then moved to follow their leader.
Jonah could tell that the Kalagarta were distressed but were going to follow the directives of their chief. If they’d been within an hour’s run of the village, that might not have been true, but the natives were realists, like most who lived hand to mouth.
“We will be at the first river barrier in half an hour,” said Xebraferd, looking back. “If they are busy elsewhere, this might be our best chance of getting across.”
The colonel had to wonder what kind of river barrier they’d be facing, and what method they’d use to get them across. He decided not to ask. Let the Kalagarta deal with their own thoughts. He’d deal with his own when they got to the barrier.
* * *
“They’re here,” said one of the young warriors,
Like most Kalagarta habitations, it was built under cover. That hadn’t always been the case, but since the invaders had come, and they had control of the air, everything was now built to be difficult to observe from the air. Difficult, but not impossible.
“I know,” said the chief, looking over at the clearing forty yards from the edge of the village. Some had argued that they should have built it further away, but at the time it had seemed to make more sense to keep their vegetable plots close.
The chief got to his feet. People were running back and forth through the village. It looked like the entire population was here and was panicking. That was really an illusion. A close look showed that there were very few young females, and no children. They had already headed to the creekside caves.
Warriors were grabbing weapons from their stands. Spears, bows, blowguns. Weapons that would probably do little against the invaders. Being a proud species, the Kalagarta could do no less than defend their territory. Some were going into holes scattered around the village, pulling coverings over to hide themselves. Those warriors would also fight, but from ambush, where they might have a chance to take an enemy with them before they went into the otherworld.
The enemy aircraft flew over once more, looking for the best avenue of approach. He wished the aliens were stupid, despite their technological advancement. No such luck. The six-limbed creatures were smart and canny warriors, to the detriment of his people.
“We are as ready as we can be,” he told the young warrior, getting to his feet and grabbing the spear he hadn’t used in recent memory. “Let us make the ancestors proud.”
* * *
“Can you get us down under the canopy?” the commander asked as they came in for an overfly of the village.
“I can try, commander, but the trees in there are mighty close.”
Mmrash grunted. The tough metal of the gunship could probably smash through the trunks of the trees, but they risked having heavy objects coming down on them and pushing them into the ground.
“Send a couple of rockets in at them,” he finally ordered, pointing ahead. “Let’s stir up the insect nest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t question my orders. Just do it.”
The ears of the pilot twitched with acknowledgment. He concentrated and looked ahead, picking out his targets. With a flick of his finger he triggered one of the rockets. The weapon fell from its rack and sped ahead on a jet of flame. The pilot quickly looked over at the next target and did the same, triggering another weapon.
A flash of light came from the first target, a large hut, followed a moment later by a loud boom. The hut flew out in splinters, a ball of rising flame rising. A moment later the next hut exploded.
“Send your squads in and take that village,” the commander said over the comm to the other shuttles. “But don’t kill them all. We want some left alive to give us the information we want.”
“Yes, commander,” responded the sergeant, his ears twitching in anxiety.
Of course he doesn’t want to go out there, thought the commander, who wasn’t about to do so himself, at least until the threat had been neutralized. Too bad. That’s his job. If he survives, maybe someday he’ll be an officer and be able to beg off these kinds of missions.
“I’ll be observing, Sergeant.” With the push of a panel, Mmrash linked into the feed of the NCO’s helmet and he was able to see what the sergeant saw, and hear what the sergeant heard. What he couldn’t do though was smell through the nose of the other warrior, which was the sense that made things real to a Xlatan.
The rear door to the shuttle came down, showing the forest world through the helmet camera of the sergeant. The air was filled with the wispy smoke of the recent rocket explosions, and the screams and cries of the wounded Kalagarta came in over the crackling of fire. A pair of warriors ran past, going to ground ten yards further in. Another pair ran past them, then the viewpoint of the sergeant changed as he advanced.
The breathing of the NCO came over the speakers, while his heartbeat elevated over the somatic sensors. Mmrash pulled up the readouts on the other troopers. All were spiking, not unusual in warriors going into action, many of them for the first time.
A laser speared out, visible in the smoke, driving through a hopping native who was trying to get within range for a spear throw. The upper body of the warrior fell to the side, while the lower section staggered for a moment before falling over. More lasers appeared, linking instantaneously with their targets. The smoke was thickening near the center of the village, interfering with laser targeting and dispersing the beams. Against the unarmored natives, it didn’t make much difference, though against an armored opponent it might mean life or death.
“I’m hit!” one of the soldiers yelled out.
“Who was that, Sergeant?” Mmrash asked, looking at the readouts and picking out the soldier he thought it was. Several had already been hit by arrows, which had bounced from their armor of hardened clothing. They had very few vulnerable spots on their bodies, but they did exist.
“Trooper Klarsh is down,” the NCO called back. “It looks like they got a dart into one of his ears.”
“Crap.” The ears were one of their vulnerable points. They could cover them, but the species depended on that nonverbal signal to a greater extent than any other, so they left them out. And in most cases it wasn’t a problem, since a hit to the ear was superficial. Except when the enemy was using poison.
“Third and fourth squads are moving in on their vectors,” Mmrash told the NCO. “Just hold where you are until they move into position, then push to the center.”
The sergeant acknowledged. Mmrash sat back in his chair, running a middle hand through his mane. He’d lost a warrior against a primitive village that had already been hammered with rockets. That shouldn’t have happened, but it had. There was no use crying over it. His people were mercenaries, and that was part of the business.
* * *
The explosion reminded the chief of the power of the invaders. That reminder knocked him to the ground with the concussion of the blast, deafening him. In most respects he was one of the lucky ones. Warriors came apart before his eyes, torn into bleeding rags of meat by the thousands of splinters thrown by the blast. An instant later some of those were then burned to ash. Fortunate
ly for them, they were beyond feeling the fire.
Other warriors, many like the chief further away from the blast, were knocked to the ground. Some went flying through the air to land hard on the ground, unmoving. A few were staggering back to their feet when the second blast knocked them back down.
Is it already over? thought the chief, shaking his head as he tried to clear his ringing ears. He had been hoping they would be able to meet the enemy in battle, as one-sided at it might have been, but a couple of their larger weapons had knocked the fight out of his people.
Maybe not, was his thought as more of his warriors pulled themselves to their feet. They staggered as they hopped. Some were barely moving forward, but they were moving, weapons at the ready.
The chief got to his feet just in time to see the six-legged infantry moving in. It looked like ten or so, and they moved in a crouch, weapons ready. These were warriors, and he respected them just as much as he hated them. A smattering of arrows flew at the creatures, all bouncing away from their armor. The arrows were poisoned, which meant nothing if they couldn’t get to their flesh.
The enemy fired back with their devil weapons, beams of light shining through the smoke. Where those beams touched, warriors died. A few had holes burned through them, others fell apart as if an infinite blade had cut into them.
A few of the braver warriors tried to close and get spear throws in. Those that were able to get off a cast before being sliced down didn’t do much good. A couple puffed from blowguns, again with no result.
One of the enemy warriors stood up from his crouch with a cry, stiffened, and fell. It was a sign of the quick-acting poison on the weapons, and, since there were no shafts protruding from his body, the chief thought it must have been a dart.
More beams came in, and there were very few Kalagarta warriors still on their feet. The village was swarming with six-legged warriors, the battle lost, when the last trap was sprung. A half dozen warriors came out of the ground, pushing aside woven coverings that blended in with the ground covering. Spears were thrust out, most to bounce from armor. One warrior got in a skillful strike, or was it luck? It didn’t matter, as it went into the lower face of the alien in a spurt of blood. It was a nasty wound, and one which the alien would recover from given time. The poison wouldn’t give him that time.
Another blast ripped through the center of the village as one of the invaders started firing strings of small explosives from his weapon. A couple landed near the chief, who was trying to figure how he was going to sell his life while hopefully taking down an enemy. That was his last thought as darkness claimed him.
* * *
“I think we should cross now,” said Xebraferd, dipping a foot into the river. “It is not as cold as the little stream behind us.”
“How are we going to get across?” the colonel asked, looking at the flowing water and estimating that it had a couple mile an hour current. That wasn’t what concerned him the most, though. The big crocodilians sunning on the opposite bank had earned that distinction.
“We will swim, of course. I thought you said all of your people could swim.”
“After a fashion. Some of our people have heavy weapons and equipment though, that will pull them under if they swim on the surface.”
“Then you must figure out how they are going to do that,” said the war chief, “but don’t take too much time.”
“And what about those things over there?” Charley asked, pointing to the crocodilians.
“We will guard you against those. We are better than them under water, and we are smarter.”
“If they fight those underwater, I’m not sure how smart they are,” Joey said, his translator muted.
“Everyone, inflate your floatation vests. We have a river to swim.”
“You sure, Colonel?” Basil Paudel asked in his cultured English accent. “I don’t fancy ending up in the stomach of one of those boys.”
“Our guide says they’ll take care of them,” Charley said, looking over the disbelieving faces. “So we have to trust them.”
“Besides,” Jonah interjected, setting his rifle, “our weapons will still function in the water. Set them all to maximum velocity.”
The colonel pulled the tabs that inflated the neck-mounted floatation device. He considered himself a good swimmer, but not with almost seventy pounds of extra weight pulling on him.
“Your clothing,” said the war chief. “Now it looks like the water.”
“It’s a new, special material that gives us active camo. It changes to match its background.” The colonel let himself slide into the water, which seeped into every opening in his clothing and boots. It might take some time to dry out on the other side, but some things couldn’t be helped.
When everyone was in the water, they started across, the Kalagarta diving under and swimming alongside them. About halfway across, Sandra yelled out.
“Those big bastards just slid into the water, sir. They’re under, and I don’t know where they went.”
Probably heading for the greatest feast they’ve ever seen, the colonel thought, his skin crawling at the thought of those predators coming through underneath the water. They wouldn’t know where they were until they clamped onto one of his people. Perhaps himself.
Water churned to the right, an indication that something was going on beneath the surface. A large tail broke the surface about forty feet from the team, slapping the water. The shaft of a spear came up near it, then disappeared. For several seconds nothing broke the surface, with the exception of roiling water.
“Keep moving, people!” Charley yelled out, pulling himself through the water in a strong breast stroke, “unless you want to provide a meal for the locals.”
A reptilian head broke the water twenty feet away from Yusef, the closest Human to that side. Yusef screamed out and started thrashing in the other direction, closer to the center of the group. An eye focused on him, and the head started to go back down. The water roiled again, but this time the entire body of the creature rolled to the surface, a pair of Kalagarta hanging on with spears thrust through the soft underbelly.
Jonah had to admit to himself that the clumsy-looking amphibians, on land at least, were anything but in the water. And there was no doubting their courage, as the heavily-armored creature they were attacking was at least as massive as twenty of the amphibians.
“Keep moving, people!” he yelled, pushing for the shore that was now less than fifty feet away. “I want everyone high and dry in less than two.”
Normally anyone in the team could swim fifty feet in much less than a half minute. Unfortunately, they were carrying equipment, and the streamlining of a Human body in swimming gear, or nothing at all, didn’t exist at this moment.
Joey pulled himself out of the water first, shaking his head, then pulling off his helmet and dripping out the water. Asuka Yamashuri was next, giving his wife a hand from the river, then turning with carbine in hand to aim into the river.
“Don’t hit our friends,” the colonel called out as he got his feet on the bottom and walked the rest of the way out. He turned to watch the last of his people climbing out, doing a head count and smiling as he got them all. Looking back at the water, he noted the many heads that had now broken the surface. They were looking around, orienting themselves and the creatures they were fighting.
One of those creatures was floating on the surface belly up, blood discoloring the water around it. A couple of Kalagarta swarmed over it, hooting out their war cries. The second of the beasts was running back onto the bank, fleeing into the trees.
“Damn,” Ivan said, stopping beside the colonel and looking out at their friends. “They don’t kid around, do they?”
No, they sure don’t, Jonah thought, watching Xebraferd come out of the river, his warriors following.
“We lost one,” said the war chief, bowing his head as if in prayer. “They are tough foes, and we normally do not hunt them.”
“I’m sorry for the loss o
f your warrior,” Jonah said, bowing his own head. “And thank you.”
“You and your people are not made to fight in water,” said the proud male, puffing out his chest and hitting his handless forearm against it. “This is our environment. Even those creatures cannot equal us in the water. If we were trying to avoid them, they wouldn’t catch us. If they tried to catch you, some of you would be digesting in their stomachs tonight.”
Five of the Kalagarta started to tow the body of the beast to the shore, but Xebraferd yelled out something that wasn’t translated and waved his spear in the air. The other warriors started to argue.
“We don’t have the time!” Jonah called out, waving his arm furiously.
“My people do not like to leave behind so much food,” said the war chief, looking over at the Human leader, “especially when they have paid such a price.”
“What will you do with it, then?” Charley asked, looking up at the sky as if he was expecting something to come flying over at any moment.
“We’ll just let the river carry it away,” said the Kalagarta, giving Charley a strange look. “In an hour it will be a couple of miles away. By nightfall it will be swarming with scavengers.”
“I’d like it better if we could hide the body,” Charley said with a grim expression. “Someone might come along and wonder what killed it.”
“There are land predators that can kill it in numbers,” said the Kalagarta, looking back into the forest. “It doesn’t happen often, but it does. And besides, it would take over an hour to get it to shore and bury it. Almost as long to weigh it down so it sinks to the bottom.”
“We need to get moving,” Jonah agreed, also looking at the sky. “The further we are from here if this is discovered, the better.”
“You think your enemies will assign significance to the body of a predator floating in the river?” asked Xebraferd, again staring at the crocodilian.
“As you said, it’s unusual for them to die in the river like that,” Charley said, “and they know we’ve got to cross. You figure it out.”
When Eagles Dare Page 17