The Hero lota-5

by John Ringo

  * * *

  Tirdal’s Sense tingled, and he felt Dagger’s grin. He knew he’d been sighted, but the only thing to do was keep moving doggedly forward. He felt compelled to increase his pace, but the fractured chest plate was still hurting severely, and he didn’t want to risk damaging any organs. He kept steadily at it, sloshing through the shallow stream and trying to keep his head down while still making time. He hunched as he rose over rocks, stood painfully upright where it was low and smooth, and kept his Sense aware.

  Dagger was exuding cruelty, frustration, egotism and hate. Then, suddenly, they faded to nothing. How odd. Nothing material had been known to affect the Sense, only distance. Yet Dagger was easily within range.

  Tirdal realized what was happening just in time. Dagger was in a trance state, preparing to shoot. His emotions were down as he focused on the task and entered alpha state. That was it.

  Then an overwhelming wave of cruel pleasure rushed by. Dagger had fired and the round was on the way.

  Tirdal felt the rush of emotions from the shot and sprang backwards, causing another tearing sensation in his chest, made worse by the mass of the artifact yanking at his arms. Then, ignoring the pain, he leapt across the open area as the first shot flew by, and rolled down flat. His helmet systems were buzzing like mad, careting the location of the sniper, but Dagger was well out of range of his punch gun. He could feel the hate and frustration of the sniper drop to nothing again and realized that it would be this cat and mouse all the way across the meadow. It was time to push Dagger again.

  Calming his breathing so Dagger wouldn’t hear the exertion and pain, he said, “I can keep this up all the way, Dagger. You transmit your emotions so easily. Even the beetles are more reticent. At this range, I have literally seconds to know you’re planning a shot… from that tree, and to evade it. So why don’t you give up now and I’ll promise you a safe flight home and a fair trial for mutiny, theft and the murder of your team?”

  The only answer was an intense wall of rage blowing over him. That, and a volley of five hornet rounds that came whizzing overhead and dove for him. His harness cracked out its defensive signals, and the two that were close thudded harmlessly into dirt, showering it in small fountains. One careened off a rock with a sharp sound, while the last two, far ahead, hit two of the herbivores in the small herd. The rounds didn’t penetrate their armor but they must have stung. The beasts stirred and began to move at a trot.

  Quickly, Tirdal splashed along and caught up with them, using their agitated movement for cover.

  “Really, Dagger, emotional outbursts will not solve the problem,” he said, taunting. Jem discipline had to be different from human martial arts, but there was obviously some similarity. He would give Dagger the simplest, most childish instructions to insult him further.

  By now he was among the animals, moving slowly and deliberately to keep them between him and Dagger. “First, let’s consider our center. Look within while breathing slowly, and find the ‘hradir,’ what you would call a pool, except it is a sphere. It is round so as to be even, calm and unruffled by waves. Our emotions cause waves upon it, but like any volume of water, it absorbs the energy and holds it within. If that is too complicated, think of a soap bubble. That often works best for those with chaotic minds, or children.”

  The only reply was two more shots. The first was near enough for Tirdal to throw himself prone as one of the creatures shook and reared back. The other was quite some meters away and indicated that Dagger really didn’t know where he was at this point.

  * * *

  Ferret heard the shot far ahead and dropped down for cover. While it was only a joke that he could hide behind a leaf, he was good, and was invisible in an instant. Then he analyzed the threat. He had his sensors maxed and they confirmed that faint cracking sound to be a gauss rifle, sniper type. The gear quickly assessed sound pressure, atmosphere, general terrain, and flashed an estimated distance up. There were seven more shots in two volleys. So Dagger hadn’t hit with his first round. That was interesting. Was he in fact shooting at Tirdal and missing? Or at other threats? Ferret decided he’d keep alert for any more local forms. He recalled vividly that they were armored against most rounds. Was Dagger dealing with several small ones or one tough one? Or was Tirdal attacking him and drawing his fire?

  No way to tell. And the information he’d acquired really didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know from his own senses and the lifesigns gear. It was confirmation, though, and that was a help. Slowly, he rose and moved forward. Now would be the time to make headway on them.

  The trees were thinning, so the best guess was that they were shooting it out on flat ground. Dagger likely had sought a tree or other high point. If he used his chameleon, he’d be hard enough to see, and Darhel couldn’t kill, which was why Tirdal was running.

  Correction: Darhel had never been known to kill. But Tirdal certainly seemed different. So assume he’d find it awkward but not impossible. Hesitation would likely be his undoing, and he was smart enough to know it, so he’d be hiding.

  Time to talk to Tirdal again.

  “Tirdal, Dagger is between us, approximately. Should we attempt to flank him?”

  Tirdal came on in only a moment. “That would be a good idea, Ferret, if I could be sure of where you were, and if we could trust each other. As it is, I expect you to shoot as soon as you locate me. So I’m afraid I can’t agree.”

  “Dammit, Tirdal, Dagger’s the greater threat here.” The alien was so… alien. Precise, logical. Any human would be at least disturbed if not worried. Tirdal was not. It was infuriating.

  “I agree. But it’s also likely you consider me to be the easier kill. Therefore, to expose myself would be to invite the two of you to try for me first. That’s the rough part of a three-way war, Ferret. Whoever moves first, dies.”

  Sighing, Ferret acceded to the inevitable. He wasn’t going to persuade Tirdal yet. He’d have to bide his time. For now, threats would make things worse. So he said, “Okay, Tirdal, I guess we can’t work a deal now. But keep it in mind. Dagger’s the threat we have to eliminate, then we can try to come to a deal.” Though if he got a lucky shot at Tirdal, he’d damned well take it.

  “Fair enough, Ferret. Good hunting.”

  “Yeah, you too,” he grudgingly admitted. “As long as it’s Dagger you’re hunting.”

  “Of course I can’t be convincing in that regard. Now if you don’t mind, Ferret, I think we’re done for now.”

  Tired, aggravated, head itching and now going numb, Ferret limped on, and decided to harass Dagger some more. If he could push Dagger into exposing himself or making any mistake at all, they might get rid of him. It would also be a bargaining chip with Tirdal.

  He smiled for a moment. Every part of him was either numb or screaming in agony. He’d always thought he didn’t want to die in bed, but he was beginning to think it had advantages.

  “So, Dagger, it’s not going too well, is it?”

  “Sooo, you think you can see. Tell me, Ferret, where are you?” Dagger asked back, voice light.

  “Dammit, Dagger, you coward,” Ferret exploded. “I’m tempted to tell you so I can blow you away.”

  “You’re going to stop me?” Dagger replied with a snicker. “Are you trying to suck up to Tirdal the same way? You know he’s with me, don’t you? That’s why he’s not helping you.” The last part was reasonable, but bullshit. Dagger wasn’t as tough as he tried to be, and Ferret had always known that. And in the last… had it only been two days? It seemed like months… every moral weakness the man had had come out to play.

  “He’s not helping me because he’s a gutless freak,” Ferret said. “We both know that. I’m not afraid of him, but you should be afraid of me.”

  “But, Ferret, my friend, aren’t you suffering neural effects? Are you going to limp up and bag me?” Dammit, Dagger knew how to twist things. That insult was worse because it was true. Ferret choked back tears and forced his quavering voic
e under control. Every step sent metal spikes through his legs. Every stumble from a foot that couldn’t find its own footing was another jarring jolt through the heel and up. Muscles were cramping up in his legs, in his hips, even in his neck and shoulders from wincing and reacting. His much-lightened ruck wasn’t helping either, in that regard. The cumulative effect was causing a severe headache under his helmet-numbed scalp. That was causing sporadic nausea, which made it hard for him to even swallow water.

  “Oh, the neural effects were minor. I’m still walking, still talking, and still have a few weapons. I wouldn’t count on having range on me. You may be a better shot, but I have tactical position, and Gun Doll’s cannon,” he lied.

  That seemed to make Dagger pay attention. “You’re lying,” he said. “Or you would have mentioned it earlier.”

  “Sure I’m lying, Dagger. Come here and find out. Want to meet at two thousand meters and we’ll each give it our best?”

  There was no reply for a moment, and Ferret pressed home his advantage. “How about something more manly? Let’s say a hundred meters. Or fifty. Something a real man can call a challenge? I’ve seen what Doll could do to a target at fifty meters with this monster. Be kinda fitting to have her hardware splash you across half the continent. Ready, old pal?”

  “Ferret,” Dagger replied, and it sounded for a moment as if he had caught something in his throat, “I don’t play macho, you know that. I see you, I kill you. So if you really have that cannon, you better use it.”

  “Oh, I will, Dagger,” Ferret promised, feeling a rush that revitalized him yet again. He hated running on drugs and nerves, though. “I will.”

  Chapter 14

  Dagger was really getting pissed, and really getting tired. These two cockroaches hadn’t died, weren’t falling back, and weren’t nearly as afraid as they should be. They should both be dead. They should both be rotting bug chow. And he wasn’t going to get a long range shot, and wasn’t going to get close. Except he needed to.

  The bitch of it was, there was no way to bow out if he wanted to. He’d be tried for treason, mutiny, desertion, murder and anything else they could find to tack on, then either shot in the neck or tossed in a vacuum chamber. He’d committed so many capital crimes, there was no way to turn back. He’d known what he was doing when he tossed that grenade, had been prepared to risk the bugs and the possibility of Blob ships as he left, because that risk existed anyway, and the payoff was huge. But this was just a nightmare.

  Thinking back to his shooting, the goddamned Elf was right, Dagger decided. He normally moved right up until the shot was taken, then shifted. To make this kill would require getting closer, or much calmer, or both. At close range, the time of flight would be impossible for the Darhel to avoid. So first he’d try the calm. It would be fitting to use the Darhel’s own smartass comments against him. He knew when a shot was good, so the trick was to restrain the satisfaction until after he hit. Then he could laugh his ass off.

  The scope picked up a heat ripple that wasn’t like the herbivores, behind them and a rill of dirt. Back to work. He slowly squeezed the stud and watched, still in trance like at a match, as the parabolic cone of the bullet’s path arced toward the ripple.

  As if reading his mind, because he was, the annoying little creep dropped before the bullet hit. Dust rose on the bank beyond him. Sighing, growling, holding back his anger, Dagger tried again. Good shot, and this time he closed his eyes. He’d give the round time to do its magic to avoid anticipation. But he’d known it was a good shot, and that was all it took, apparently, for the asshole to pick up a reading. He wasn’t there when the round went past. It ripped through more grass, sending stems flying, but didn’t touch the Darhel. Son of a bitch.

  The little bastard was rapidly getting out of range, too. While the weapon was rated for fifteen thousand meters, one rarely saw an opponent over three kilometers. The Darhel had been within a klick of him there for a few moments, and he’d been so tied up in trying to get the shot that he hadn’t pursued. Blast it. The little rat had got him so wound up he hadn’t been thinking.

  Dropping down from the tree, he headed off in pursuit, crouched low. He wasn’t afraid to admit to himself that Ferret was a threat. He was still at an adequate range for bagging Tirdal, outside that of the punch gun, close enough to see by eye and maneuver. That might not be close enough, though. The shadows were getting long, and night fell quickly here. He’d have to stick closer.

  He’d also, he realized, have to take a stim. He’d been running for nearly thirty-six hours now, and hadn’t slept, had barely eaten, and hadn’t even had that much to drink. Hopefully, that injured little troll wasn’t any better off and would lag back soon. He wondered what supplies Ferret had? He knew he was last, and could rest in theory. He could stop for food certainly.

  What game was Ferret playing anyway? Was he trying to score points by stopping Dagger? Or stopping Tirdal? He’d thought for a while the two were allies, which was laughable. He must have seen Tirdal with the artifact and made a logical but wrong conclusion. If he could steer him toward Tirdal first, that would take a lot of stress off Dagger. Smiling, he opened up the circuit. “Hey, Ferret,” he called.

  “There you are, Dagger. So, you missed Tirdal with seven shots. Too bad.” Ferret was gleeful underneath. Time to put a stop to that.

  Lying, and hating himself for it, Dagger said, “I hit seven times, Ferret. You know I always do. That’s not why I’m calling.”

  “Right, so what’s your point?” Ferret asked.

  Smiling broadly, Dagger said, “You recall that Tirdal is a gunnery sergeant, and ranking being here. He gets to call the pod. It might be best if you were to concentrate your efforts on him first, then worry about me.”

  “So, he did screw you over, huh?”

  “Of course he did, Ferret,” Dagger said. The best way to deal with a story change was to make the lie big, and condescending. “Did you actually believe I’d ally with that Darhel freak? I’m insulted.” As soon as he said, it, he realized he was insulted. Did Ferret actually think he’d ally with the dirty little Elf? Dammit, every time he had to deal with them, these assholes were a pain.

  “Dagger, you’d pimp your mother for a buck. Everyone saw the hard-on you had for that box. Hell, we half expected you to fuck it right there.”

  “Didn’t see that grenade coming, though, did you?” Dagger said, and laughed.

  “No deal, Dagger,” was Ferret’s cold reply. “You die first. And thanks for letting me know you really are afraid, as well as a lousy shot in a crunch.”

  Silence.

  Dagger squeezed his rifle in white-knuckled frustration. That was not how he’d wanted it to go. These two scumsuckers were tying him in knots. Remember, he thought, people who are talking are not shooting. So it was time for Dagger to stop talking.

  He checked the tracer again. The Darhel was about two kilometers away. No risk from the punch gun. He dropped into the river’s channel to get more water. It would have to be processed by his suit before he could drink it, but it made sense to fill up while he could. He swallowed the stim, washed it down with the warm, flat dregs from his suit’s integral canteen, then stuck down a siphon tube to suck water into it for later. That done, he strode out, intending to close with the Darhel.

  It was amazing how fast dusk fell with this planet’s rotation. The shadows were long before he reached the woodline on the far side of the clearing. Tirdal was still ahead, a good two kilometers, and still moving at a swift pace.

  Had he been in the Darhel’s position, he would have stopped to set up an ambush. That the little crud didn’t, but just kept running, was proof of his cowardice. If they kept heading north they’d hit that savanna, and then he’d either have to get in the open or head back toward Dagger, and Dagger would gap the little freak. He smiled again at that cheerful thought. It wouldn’t be long now.

  Once inside the woods, everything changed. It was dark. The sun behind him flickered like flames throu
gh the shifting growth, throwing thick shadows that grew thicker and more substantial as the light faded, until he was once again in pitch blackness. He kept the IR and enhanced screens up on his visor so he wouldn’t have to see the stark nothingness. He now knew how Gorilla felt. He’d made fun of Gorilla’s phobia for months before he’d given up. Now it struck home. His own fear was something he accepted and denied simultaneously, and that made it something he’d never actually dealt with.

  A tree stepped in front of him, or seemed to. Another reached out its limbs and clutched at him. Hands of roots caught his feet, and he moved at a light run, once again turning every dozen steps to scan around. The trees were cavorting and laughing at him, snagging on his rifle barrel and leaning in toward him.

  It had to be a side effect of fatigue and stims, he thought. He couldn’t be afraid. There was nothing here to worry about.

  As he thought that, batlike wings fluttered past his face.

  He screamed.

  * * *

  Tirdal didn’t hear the scream, but the sensors on his suit did and reported the anomaly as a possibly wounded “teammate.” He grinned at the confirmation of his deduction. So Dagger was afraid at night. It was unfortunate he couldn’t take the opportunity to just kill him, but the recent kill of the predator made him realize that killing a sentient would toss him into the abyss of lintatai. It was still necessary to be patient and seek the right circumstances for an encounter.

  In the meantime, however, there was no reason not to stick a few pins in his opponent. “Oh, Dagger,” he said into the communicator, “how are you doing?”

  “F-fine, you little freak,” was the reply.

  “Interesting, Dagger, you sound relieved to hear my voice,” he said, goading.

  “Well, I’d rather hear your screams, of course,” Dagger said, sounding as if he were trying to be brave. “And as long as you’re on air, there’s a chance of that.”