Sly Mongoose

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Sly Mongoose Page 21

by Tobias S. Buckell


  “What are they doing?” Timas asked.

  “Last messages for loved ones.” Achmed turned the screen off. “We’ll give them their privacy.”

  “They went in there so easily.” Timas still couldn’t believe it.

  Katerina looked at Timas. “They voted. Consensus said it was the best thing to do, giving us three a chance to live.”

  “And you voted?” Timas let go of the console and slid his way toward an edge of the room for a chair of his own.

  “We abstained.”

  “I know you want to give them their privacy, but we should keep an eye on them.” Timas buckled himself in. “When they change, they might try and figure out how to get back in using manual access.”

  “We’ll leave them alone for three hours,” Achmed said. His voice sounded firm. It was final.

  The entire bulk of the processor shook. Turbulence? It shook again and Timas turned his chair around to look at Achmed. “That didn’t feel quite like turbulence.”

  “It wasn’t. We’re pulling away, but they dropped an explosive, hoping to rattle us. This is as close as they’ll get, distance-wise, until we stop our dive.”

  “And then they catch up?”

  “Then they catch up,” Achmed confirmed and nodded his head.

  “I thought,” Timas said, “that you said there weren’t any weapons on that ship.”

  Achmed held on to the edges of his panel. “I was wrong. At least they don’t seem to have missiles.”

  It was a small comfort.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Pepper walked the ranks of Yatapek’s citizens among the fields of the upper level of the city, outside the circle of buildings that clustered around the atrium. The long, edged blades of billhooks smacked against each other all around him, and the crack of practice fire echoed from the top of the city.

  Up there Yatapek had mounted more anti-pirate batteries, pulling the long-barrelled guns out of storage from somewhere deep in the city.

  All around the upper area residencies, where the few elite lived clustered around the atrium, the corn and wheat had been cut back to give fighters a good zone of fire.

  When trying to arm a whole populace in the space of a couple days one realized that guns weren’t realistic. There just weren’t enough lying around in a city to arm everyone. And not enough time to build any. The billhook was a throwback. Nothing but a chunky, slightly curved bit of steel fastened to a pole nine feet long. But, Pepper hoped, it would let Yatapek’s volunteers keep their distance and thrust at the necks of the Swarm.

  Quite a few had armed themselves with pikes, hammering iron spikes onto poles, but Pepper doubted those would be effective.

  The traditional macuahuitl of Yatapek, an iron or stone-studded club, would be good for skull-crushing.

  Pepper clambered up and sat on the roof of one of the last houses on the edge of the cleared land. He watched a group of twenty teenagers struggling to keep themselves in a tight square, imitating a phalanx.

  A wall of them with shields and swords made the first line, and then rows of billhooks followed, the bristling formation struggling to keep their long weapons steady in front of them. A clumsy hedgehog.

  They couldn’t turn quickly, but stumbled apart as they tried to attack a set of scarecrows.

  Pepper had a secret. Now that he had mobility, late in the night he’d gone hunting. A little bit more clumsy in this metal skin, but he’d found an emergency balloon that could hold the weight of him in his new incarnation.

  He’d made his way to a spot near the rim of the upper level, by a set airlocks leading out. These were service ways to let people get out on the city’s skin for repairs. And a useful exit for him.

  He wasn’t sure how long the city would hold when the Swarm came. It had only cost him a half hour’s worth of power to make sure he had a backup plan. Pepper had moved quickly, in bursts. Three hours and thirty minutes of continuous power remained in the suit’s batteries.

  Maybe, if the ten xocoyotzin now on the surface found anything, got contact with the aliens, then they’d be in a different place. With the aliens found, the Dread Council would have to move to take Chilo under its protection to gain access to their technology and resources, and protect them from the League. And the aliens might offer a hand in the fighting. Either way, if that didn’t happen soon, Pepper would need to move on. Yatapek, as he saw it, was doomed.

  “Pepper.” Itotia walked to the wall and looked up at him. “I just got a call. There’s a ship full of Swarm at the docks.”

  He jumped off the roof, enjoying the flight, his dreadlocks flying behind him, the suit a second skin around him, weightless.

  The ground dented and threw up dust when he hit with a grin.

  “How bad?”

  “Some of ours are wounded. We forced them back into the ship.”

  “Let’s see it.”

  Smoke roiled in the docks, and fifteen dour-looking warriors with rifles guarded one of the docking tubes.

  Four dockworkers lay curled up on the grating, bleeding. A doctor crouched between them, bandaging their wounds.

  “We’ve shut the docking tube down and forced them back,” Necalli told Pepper, falling in beside him as he thudded his way from the elevator through the docks. “We can fire on the airship with our guns, if we aim just right. We can rip it apart where it sits.”

  “But it hasn’t moved?” Pepper stared at the door. Why the hell hadn’t they had the docking tubes closed? Had they just been letting people aboard?

  Necalli must have guessed what he was thinking. “It won’t happen again. Not everyone was taking the new policy too seriously. Now we are. And no, the ship remains docked.”

  Pepper walked up to the wounded. “Get them in a cage, hang it over a drop hatch with a rope.”

  Itotia tapped his shoulder. “These are fellow friends, neighbors, coworkers, family.”

  “For the next few hours. After that, they’re Swarm.”

  “You push us. First, you arm women and children. The traditional among the city are outraged. Now this.”

  “There will be less outrage when the Swarm pours over us and people realize that they at least have a weapon in their hand to face this with.”

  There was a reason the ship had come early. The Swarm, with cities full of people, was now sending out emisarries. Was it arrogant, Pepper wondered, to assume that there was a message from the Swarm here?

  A cage was found and dragged down, and the four feverish men bundled into it. The men were too far gone in the process to notice what was happening, but someone slipped food and water into the cage anyway.

  The hours slipped by as Pepper waited. Itotia stayed with him, watching the men pass out in the cage from the fever.

  Eventually the still forms stirred, and then stood up as one. They grabbed the bars of the cage and looked at Pepper. “We again come to offer you something.”

  Pepper stepped forward and looked at the vacant-eyed faces of the Swarm. “Talk.”

  “Surrender,” said the first.

  “Stand your city down.”

  “We will only take one in three of you for our needs to replace what is lost to attrition and time.”

  Pepper leaned forward toward the bars, and the moment the nearest Swarm lunged for him, Pepper grabbed its hand. He snapped its finger back, then tore it off with a ripping pop.

  He walked over and slapped the button to open the hatch below them. Acrid Chilo air roiled in, forcing everyone to grab their air masks. He walked over to the rope holding the cage and cut it loose with a knife.

  None of the four Swarm made a sound. They calmly stood by the bar as the cage fell down through the hatch, whipping the rope with it.

  Pepper looked over the edge as it silently dwindled down to a dot. He pulled out a small vial and massaged blood out of the finger into it, then tossed the finger down after the cage. He capped the vial and tucked it into a niche under the suit’s collar.

  “You should ha
ve taken the offer to the pipiltin,” Itotia said. “They are the ones responsible for this city. Not you.”

  Some deals one just didn’t take. Still. “Do you think that offer would have come if I wasn’t here?”

  Itotia didn’t respond, she gave a command, and someone closed the hatches. “We won’t know now.”

  Necalli strode across to them. “I gave the order to destroy the airship. It’s not worth the risk trying to board it.”

  A few minutes later the heavy repeated thud of an antiship gun filled the docks. The Swarm airship crumpled and ripped off the end of the docking tube, taking several dock lines with it as it fell.

  “What kind of people are we,” Pepper said, “if we just hand it all over and accept the price the Swarm wanted?”

  He left them on the docks, but Itotia cornered him in Heutzin’s workshop. “Why don’t the Ragamuffins just come to protect us all?”

  “This is the DMZ,” Pepper said. “It was expensive enough to fight the League to agree to leave this area alone, and that the Raga should be allowed to be independent, separate. And now, they don’t want another war with the League. We’ll break ourselves, on both sides.”

  “But why the aliens?”

  “The Satraps destroyed most of their refineries, and we’re clever monkeys, but not clever enough to get deep down in those black box machines to figure out what makes them tick. We have no idea how to use most Satrapic technologies. And when we rose up, we killed many of the Satraps, and many of the rest either committed suicide, or just disappeared.

  “The problem is that we’re like a bunch of tribesmen. We stole the guns from the invaders, and we can use them, but we don’t know how to make them, or the replacement gunpowder. And we’re running out. Some of these aliens are going to ground, they know more about Satrapic technology than we do. They may even be hiding a Satrap.”

  Itotia shook her head, disgusted. “Our lives are weighed against fuel and technology.”

  “Of course.” Pepper looked at her. “Civilizations live and die by power and technology. If New Anegada throws its best, uses all its resources, to fight here, they leave that whole planet open and undefended. There would have to be an incredible payoff to risk the home planet.”

  She sighed. “So it’s just us versus the Swarm.”

  Pepper nodded.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  An hour passed before Achmed pulled the ore carrier out of the dive. The airship chasing them flew far overhead, but far enough behind them that it couldn’t drop any more charges.

  The infected crew’s fevers had passed. Timas and Katerina walked down to watch as they stirred through the thick glass of the airlock. Their movements were jerky, as if their bodies were being controlled by strings.

  The nearest two staggered to their feet and flung themselves at the glass, beating it with loose and awkward fists.

  Timas jumped back. “They look possessed.”

  “They are.” Katerina stepped forward and looked. “It’s just like Pepper described.”

  “But maybe there is still something deep down, human. Maybe they can be fixed.”

  As an answer, Katerina tapped the airlock’s control panel. Through the window they could see the outer lock door slide open. The Swarm inside threw themselves against the door and silently continued pounding against the glass. “They’ve destroyed entire cities, millions of people, and have almost taken all Chilo for their own. Our world, Timas. And they’ve done it in a timespan of days. We have to act quickly. You were right up there, when you said it was us or them.”

  The air inside had become a muddy brown. The infected finally dropped to their knees, gasping for air that had fled, replaced by Chilo’s own poisonous mix.

  “At least they don’t change to breathe Chilo’s air,” Timas said, finally looking away.

  “If they did, there wouldn’t even be a chance for us.”

  Katerina walked over to a small locker on the other side of the antechamber and dug around in it. “Here.” She handed him a small ear-piece the size of a seed. He slipped it into his ear.

  “Hi.” Katerina’s lips didn’t move, but her voice came through in his ear.

  “Welcome to the public channel,” Achmed said.

  “Thanks. Do you hear me?” Timas wasn’t sure.

  “Yeah, if you can hear yourself we can, too.” Katerina’s lips still didn’t move. Creepy. “Achmed, is there any way to tilt the processor to its side?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s dump the infected out like that and make sure we don’t get any surprises. I’d hate to open the door and find out they can hibernate or something.”

  Timas agreed, and they both found corners to press against as the entire ore processor tilted over.

  Once on their side, Katerina nodded. “They’re all out.”

  The processor slowly righted itself again.

  “We have another problem,” Achmed reported. “That airship is catching up. It’s also dropping down.”

  “How much lower can it get?” Timas asked.

  “Not too much lower before it starts getting crushed.”

  “And if it keeps going, it’ll overtake us soon?” They were level again. Timas looked out of the airlock and into the haze.

  “Half an hour. Then they can drop more charges.”

  “Buy why? What do we have that it wants?” Timas asked. “Now that we’re escaping, it should just leave. We’re just a few extra bodies for it.”

  “If it plans on spreading and taking the whole planet, the fewer humans in airships running about, the better,” Achmed replied. “There’s another cloud layer, it’s at thirty-five thousand feet. We can lose them there for sure.”

  Katerina looked up, alarmed. “You said forty thousand feet was the edge of the processor’s limit.”

  “At best, yes.” Achmed cleared his throat. “I think it’s our best option. And there’s another issue. We can’t do it too quickly. We can drop fast initially, but we’ll need to start adding buoyancy back as we get lower, or we’ll drop even faster. We could overshoot, or stress the hull.”

  “How long?” Katerina asked.

  “Slightly less than thirty minutes. It’ll be close. I wouldn’t ask you two to try for it without a Consensus here.”

  “But this is your ship, and you’re the oldest.” Timas shook his head.

  Katerina made a sour face. “We have the right to decide how to risk our lives. They’re every bit as important as his, don’t you think? What is age but some demarcation? Today you are twenty years and can have input on something that impacts your life, but yesterday you were nineteen and couldn’t?”

  “Do you people sit around and vote on everything? Sometimes something just needs done.” Timas started walking back to the control center of the processor.

  “With the right technology, it’s second nature and takes almost no time. We’re just being polite to you.”

  Timas swallowed. “But he knows more.”

  “Which means we should pay close attention to his advice.” Katerina looked out the airlock window. “I say we run deep and risk it.”

  Achmed agreed. Now they both waited on Timas, even though they had the majority. “Okay, sure. Let’s drop.”

  Katerina shut the outer door to the airlock. “We should probably be in the control room.”

  “Why is that?”

  “More bulkheads between us and the outside, more sealed doors.”

  Timas followed. They closed thick doors and dogged them tight behind them as they went. It took five minutes to get to the control center, and by the time they did Timas noticed that he had started to sweat. “It’s getting hot.”

  “The heat exchangers are getting overloaded,” Achmed said. “It’s pretty nasty outside. We’ve done most of the drop already.”

  “We’re at the edge. From now on, it gets dangerous.”

  “Slow and steady.” Achmed grimaced. “And with much prayer on my part.”

  For Timas, t
hat sounded like a good idea.

  The entire processor creaked, and in the distance, echoing down corridors, pings and snaps made both Katerina and Timas jump.

  Achmed closed his eyes, sweat rolling down his forehead. He was focusing on safely taking them into the clouds once again. The heat got unbearable, even the consoles got too hot to touch.

  Timas kept swallowing. His clothes were drenched. His exposed skin stuck to the chair.

  “Six thousand to go.”

  An explosion shook the ship. Timas jumped. “What was that?”

  “The balloons just burst. We’re falling a bit fast, but I’m dumping ballast, I anticipated this happening. Just falling a bit fast.”

  Another explosion jarred the processor. Timas wiped sweat away from his eyes and gripped the chair. They weren’t going to make it. If the balloons kept bursting like that what would keep the processor up? Its natural air inside?

  Achmed looked up. “Without the balloons we can keep altitude at this height: the Triple-Two is built to level on its own air at fifty thousand. We’re dropping below, that’s a risk, yes, but as long as our hull doesn’t break, we should be able to climb back up with our safety balloons. Just shoot them up ten thousand feet or so with lines attached and inflate.”

  “But then the Swarm airship sees us.” Timas gripped the chair even harder as they lurched again.

  “So we run low until we’re sure we dodged them.” Achmed clutched his panel as they fell again. “That should be the last of them.”

  “The Swarm airship, something’s wrong with it.” Katerina tapped and a screen by Timas lit up. The tiny dot of an airship jumped, zoomed in, and resolved to show the cigar-shaped pursuer.

  The pressure had shoved the skin so hard inward Timas could see the understructure of the airship. Then he saw the cabin, shattered and destroyed. “The windows all broke.”

  “I think so. They must all be in the airbag, if they survived.” Katerina shook her head.

  Then, as they watched, a hole appeared, widened, and, as if being crushed by a hand, the entire airship folded in on itself.

 

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