IronStar

by Hallman, Grant

  Chapter 42 (Landing plus one hundred thirty-eight): Hostage

  "Never forget that no military leader has ever become great without audacity. If the leader is filled with high ambition and if he pursues his aims with audacity and strength of will, he will reach them in spite of all obstacles." - General Carl Von Clausewitz, op. cit.

  “Noooo!” Kirrah railed, shaking the Marine Lieutenant by his shoulders. “Let it go! It can’t go far! We’ll find another way to stop it! Let it go!” Marcus actually shrank back slightly in his seat, then seized her wrists and said:

  “Sengli, Warden. Let it go. But keep it in contact, Corporal, max pri. Call the duty watch at Attila’s shuttle, deploy every Tango we’ve got, and get some spyflys up. If it kills both hostages, or separates from them, nail it, no delay. Don’t be subtle about following it, Ali. Let it see that live hostages are essential to its health.” His eyes were connected with Kirrah’s, whose anguished face was suspended in front of his. His voice became gentle.

  “We’ll get him, Kirrah. We’ll save your friends. That’s what Marines do.” She sprang up and pounded on the seatback in front of him to punctuate her words.

  “Goddammit, that’s what mothers are supposed to do! That sonovabitch! How did it know! How did it know where to look, who to go after? What’s it gonna do now? Gods! How did I let this happen?”

  “Ma’am? Ma’am!” It took Kirrah a moment to register that someone else was talking to her, and to focus on Adrianne Gilman. When she was sure she had Kirrah’s attention, the Corporal said: “Remember that small transmitter relay I found on the lake bottom, near the Oh-die camp? Before someone threw it in the lake, it was probably picking up burst transmissions from the smartshots, both sound and vid, and relaying it on a tightbeam to the Kruss base. It did have a directional array.”

  Kirrah stood stunned as she remembered the first smartshot Peetha had brought to her at Stone-in-a-River school: how her wristcomp had detected a microwave burst transmission even as she held the cursed thing in her own hands, even as Akaray stood behind her, clearly visible to its pickup in the background behind her own face. It wouldn’t have taken a genius at the other end of a vid link to figure out who was the best hostage to influence Talam’s Warmaster. She had provided that information herself.

  “Thank you, Adrianne,” Kirrah’s voice said. So calm, how did I get so calm? “People, is there anything we can think of, anything at all, to kill that Kruss safely?”

  “Do I understand it will be armored against all our weapons, that only Reg’num weapons can touch it?” asked Irshe.

  “That is so, Irshe’jasa. I value your knowledge and your skill and your heart, but no one born on this world has the experience to deal with its weapons and defenses, and a single mistake will kill… will kill a hostage.”

  “If we are to defeat this thing’s intentions, it may be best done as firado’kae, a braid-of-three.” Despite her reeling sense of desperation, Kirrah was surprised to hear Issthe, who usually took no part in tactical planning, speaking up:

  “You warriors from the Reg’num know your own weapons best, and your enemy’s. Our warriors know the city, and the land. Kirrah knows her own ath’la, and holds these captives’ lives in shee’thomm. We, all Talamae, will help any way we can.”

  “I believe I’ll go check the shuttle’s arms locker, see if I can’t find some inspiration,” said Adrianne. “And I suggest you have a good look at the sensor log, ma’am. It’d be nice to know what that Kruss can expect for help.”

  “Ensign Piersall,” said Marcus into his comm, all business now: “Put us on the ground at Roehl Two, fastest, go!” The young pilot’s crisp acknowledgement was followed immediately by a deepening rumble from aft, which built into a roar, then a muted scream. Everything seemed dragged aft by the acceleration, which kept building and building. In a few seconds the engine noise suddenly dropped to a low whirr of pumps and occasional servos as they left their own outside sounds behind. The acceleration eased back as they reached cruising speed, and they continued hurtling at three times the speed of sound through the still-calm and beautiful morning sky. The Marine Lieutenant turned back to Kirrah and said:

  “Nothing beats being there, Kirrah. We cannot plan a response until we know what the Kruss is up to. And we won’t know that until we get there. All we can do now is look at options.”

  “Options! What ‘options’?” Kirrah sank down on the seat opposite Marcus. She wanted desperately to wail, to break something, to crawl into Irshe’s kind, capable arms and wait until someone else made it all better. None of that was going to happen. Two lives balanced, she thought. Who would have guessed it could hurt so much?

  “Here’s one option, ma’am,” said Adrianne. Kirrah turned around in her seat at the unexpected remark from behind her left shoulder. “I found a couple of these P-6R sniper rifles back there in the small-arms locker. If the li’l bugger’ll stand still for me, I can put one of these rounds through its braincase from a thousand meters, no problem at all.” Her left arm cradled a heavy, thick-barreled rifle with a bipod mount and large optical sights over a bulky optronics sensor package, and in her extended right palm lay a smooth, brightly metallic, finned slug. When Kirrah just stared at it, Corporal Gilman continued:

  “It’s a portable railgun, ma’am. Fires a sixteen gram copper-clad tungsten slug at about twenty five hundred meps. This one’s a Mark Six, it still uses the old fifty-fives, but it will actually let us use double cartridges. That means one ten kay joules, something like thirty-five thirty meters per second. You’d just better be in combat armor if you double up, though, or the recoil will take your arm off. But in this g, that’s going to be a drop of just point four meters over a kilometer, isn’t that right, Lieutenant Warden?”

  “Sounds good, I’m sure the compsight will get it right,” replied Marcus. “Tell Kirrah about your range scores, why don’t you?”

  “Ahh, well, I’ve done pretty well…”

  “Corporal Gilman has taken the cup at two of the last three all-service meets at Trailway, Kirrah,” explained Marcus. “I watched her put five of those slugs into an eight-centimeter group at fifteen hundred meters, and that was one of her bad days. She’s a sniping witch! At their three hundred meter target, she just made the one hole, all five rounds overlapping. If our lizard stands still, he’s hers. Your call.”

  Kirrah could feel her spirits rising slightly, despite her sense of harsh emotions racing uncontrollably around the rim of a deep well of despair.

  Adrianne put the sniper rifle down and sat behind Marcus. She said, “I noticed we’re also carrying RO-7 spyflys, they can be fitted with light AP. I assume the Attila’s shuttle has the same inventory, Lieutenant Warden?”

  “Yes, I think they do. Go ahead and make sure Corporal Sengli has them deployed, with the antipersonnel mini-beamers. I’ll go over the sensor log with Kirrah.” Outside the shuttle a boom sounded and the engine noise returned, indicating their transition back down to subsonic flight. Petty Officer Thornlea called back on the intercom:

  “Ramp down in two minutes, sirs. Corporal Sengli reported the lizard’s moving south through the city with the hostages, they’re staying close but not interfering.”

  “Good, Thornlea,” replied Lieutenant Warden into the air. He gestured to his wristcomp screen. “Now look here, Kirrah, the sensor log shows these traces of Kruss material in just two areas in the whole city, both directly under that palace we just dented. I think Mac was right, one’s a storeroom and one’s living quarters. Hmm…” Kirrah almost held her breath as he put one fist in front of his chin and pondered.

  “Y’know what I haven’t seen yet?” he mused aloud. “I haven’t seen a single piece of serious Kruss military hardware. They’ve got light beamers built into their suits, they’ve given weapons to the Oh-die, yes, but something’s missing. The nanowire could’ve been borrowed out of general stores, the smartshot launcher looked like it was custom-made in a hurry in a fabricator… hell, even the smart
shots were fabbed using mostly the same specs as a Kruss med probe… Everything has a sort of, of improvised feel to it. Just like someone was scrambling to make weapons out of bits of ordinary tech lying around, and doing a civilian job of it.” He managed to make the word ‘civilian’ sound like a professional slur, in this context. Under their feet, the belly thrusters were coming on-line in preparation for landing. Marcus continued:

  “Looks to me more like, say, a few clerks and techs left behind in a contact outpost when their Navy escort got clobbered upstairs. Both escorts. I think your ship’s action may have left them caught with their pants down around their furry lizard ankles, Lieutenant.” He stopped and looked back at Adrianne, who nodded reluctantly, then back to Kirrah.

  “Marcus, you’re right! I didn’t see it that starkly before, because I was fighting with bows and arrows, and even a spool of nanowire looks like overwhelming tech when you don’t have any yourself. But if they have a real military presence, where the hell are they? Saving themselves for when we get our naval bases built?”

  He replied, “Corporal Gilman here is about to tell me that we can’t afford to assume we’re down to our very last Kruss, and she’s right. It’s just something you might want to think about, if we can get it to talk.”

  The shuttle rocked slightly as its landing gear settled onto the uneven surface, and the door folded down into a ramp, touching the earth within a third of a meter of the place it had rested at the start of their day. The passengers debarked swiftly to a pair of waiting Tangos. Irshe, Kirrah and Peetha piled into one of the small vehicles around Adrianne Gilman and her sniper rifle, and four of the other Marines joined Marcus Warden in the other machine.

  They set off immediately, and Marcus chose the Unit General channel to contact his other corporal. “Sengli, Warden. We’re groundside, en route. Talk to me, Ali.”

  The Corporal’s voice responded almost instantly, “Sengli here, Sir. We’re a few blocks north of the waterfront, maintaining visual contact, still letting it keep moving south. It’s carrying the little kid now slung across its back. I don’t think it’s hurt either of them yet. It’s shot down three of my spyflys so far, Gods it’s fast, sir. The only images we’ve been getting are from units I’ve left parked on a rooftop or someplace it doesn’t notice. No shot yet, sir, sorry.”

  “Good work, Sengli. We’re rolling, should be there in five or six minutes.” If we don’t kill someone on the way, Kirrah said to herself as they swerved expertly around another market cart and barely dodged a man trying to cross the street behind the cart. Gonna need sirens and traffic signals, any day now…

  “Lieutenant Warden, Sengli,” her suit comm said.

  “Warden, go.”

  “The Kruss just stopped, sir. It keeps looking at its comm screen. I believe it may still be getting telemetry from smartshots we haven’t swept yet. Ok, it’s… it seems to be putting something around the boy’s neck… looks like some kind of collar - same for the girl. Sir, it’s just two blocks from the water now, wherever it’s going, it has to be almost there. If you want me to stop it, I’d have to…”

  “Negative, Corporal. We’ll be there soon.” Listening helplessly to the narrative, Kirrah thought her rigidly clutching hands would break the seatback in front of her, or vice versa. On her wristcomp two images relayed from spyflys showed the Kruss hoisting Akaray across its back again, and dragging on the chain around Tash’ta’s neck to lead the girl farther south. What the hell is it up to, she wondered.

  Unbidden, a memory of Captain Leitch came to her mind, of one of her frequent defeats at his hands while they played chess. ‘The reason you didn’t see that coming, Kirrah, is that you were too busy working on your own offensive. We call that ‘target-fixation’, a sometimes fatal condition. If you want to defeat me, first you have to be me. How about another game?’ Kirrah’s eyes stung, whether at the memory or her present distress, she could not say.

  What would I do, if I were the last human on a planet full of Kruss, and I wanted my friend back? she thought. I’d kidnap the enemy commander’s son. Then I get my aircraft shot up, so I’d need some kind of… Hah!

  “Captain Crath’pae!” she called into her wristcomp. “Opeth shu’Teeklae, anyone!” After an eternity of five or six seconds, the Talamae Armsmaster replied, obviously still having a little trouble with the unfamiliar comm equipment. To say nothing of the unfamiliar concept of comm equipment:

  “..aster! Kirrah Warmaster! I hear you!”

  “Opeth! Listen, there’s a Kruss headed south down Tailors’ Road towards the waterfront, I think it’s going to try stealing one of our ships, I need you to get everything we’ve got that floats, out on the water immediately!”

  “I will do my best, Warmaster, there’s a device-that-speaks in three of the waterfront towers. I will call them.”

  “Thank you, Armsmaster. As fast as possible! It has Akaray captive with it, and Tash’ta… No one is to approach it.”

  “Yes, Warmaster, I understand. That part of the city is where plague-of-screams was worst, there is almost no one else there.”

  A few minutes later their small convoy reached Waterside Block. They halted briefly at the north end of the block so Corporal Gilman could get out with her equipment. Kirrah drove the second Tango behind Lieutenant Warden’s vehicle. From there she could see a sparse forest of masts already out on the water. In a few seconds they pulled up at the south end of Waterside Block where Tailors’ Road met the lake. The Kruss and its two captives were visible just arriving on the empty docks ahead. As Kirrah’s party stopped their vehicles thirty meters away and stepped down, the Kruss turned and spoke into its microphone. Kirrah’s translator picked up the coughing, hissing sounds:

  « Pssittagk greets ssKirragk mighty warrior of slowmeat primitives. »

  “Kirrah sees Piss-tak acting stupid. Release humans now!” Funny, she thought, looking at the Kruss over the sights of her beamer, I don’t remember drawing my sidearm…

  « ssKirragk is foolish acting. Shoot beamer, detector respond small explosion » To illustrate, the being pointed a clawed and armored finger at the three-by-six centimeter boxes now strapped to the throats of each hostage.

  « Detector sees beamer noise and EM pulse. If close, kill. Understand? »

  “It’s mined the hostages, Kirrah,” said Lieutenant Warden to her right and behind. If we fire a beam weapon…”

  “I get the picture, Marcus, now what?” Oh yeah, I’ve taken over, I guess that’s up to me...

  “What does Piss-tak want?” Kirrah ground out between her teeth. God, how badly I want to pull this trigger… Akaray was looking at her, not moving except for his eyes, which were flicking back and forth between her and the Kruss. Tash’ta was standing as far away as her chain allowed, which was only a few centimeters. Her knees and one elbow were scraped and bloody, her hands were pinned behind her by some sort of restraints like Akaray’s.

  « Pssittagk wants Lssghagk » the being said, each eye roving independently to keep as many Regnum soldiers in sight as possible.

  “What is a Liss-gik?” Kirrah replied.

  « Already saw other Kruss on imager. In hole, two doors. Name Lssghagk. Pssittagk demands trade Lssghagk for small slowmeats. Good deal, all live. »

  “Your friend Liss-ghack is no longer on-planet. It is already on its way to a Civilium Scrutineer. It is evidence in the Talamae people’s claims against the Kruss Empire, for use of illegal weapons. There is plenty of good evidence. Your Empire will already pay heavy reparations for your actions here. Do not add to the list of charges. Release the humans immediately!”

  The small reptile-like being stood in thought for a moment, tongue licking its black lips, one small clawed hand gripping Akaray’s upper arm. A small display panel slid up out of its suit collar, one eye swung down to take in whatever the panel was showing.

  « Not to believe humans. Not to trust humans. Too many humans here. » The creature crouched down behind Akaray, pulled Tash’ta forwa
rd on its right side. The girl shouted:

  “Warmaster! Kill this thing! Please! I do not fear!”

  I bet you don’t, sweetheart, Kirrah thought, remembering the blood transfusion. She replied:

  “Tash’ta. If I fire my weapon, that box on your throat will kill you both. Do nothing, trust me, we will get you free.” I hope.

  “Piss-tak! Listen to me! If the humans are harmed, nothing in the universe can save you from my vengeance, do you understand this?”

  « Understand. We trade same coin, ssKirragk and I. Lssghagk is my ortho-mate. Want back, now! » Oh, shit! Part of its family, Kirrah realized. No wonder it’s acting so desperately. What now?

  “Lssghagk is not on this planet,” she replied. “Lssghagk is on Regnum ship, taken to Civilium Scrutineer, then Justice Board. Release humans, I will send you to be with Lssghagk.”

  « ssKirragk insults Pssittagk’s trading skills. » The neutral voice issuing from the translator overlaid the rattles and coughs coming from the Kruss’ throat, its mild tone totally at odds with the desperate conversation.

  « Pssittagk believes ssKirragk will make trade. Not now, then tomorrow. Not too long, trade-goods spoil. Before Pssittagk grows hungry. Pssittagk leave now, no troubles make small humans safe. » The Kruss turned and started down the bank toward the river.

  “There are no ships for Piss-tak. Best we talk, settle trade here,” Kirrah called after it.

  « ssKirragk not good marketer. Got no goods for trade Pssittagk-customer wants. Get goods, then bargain. Many boats here, rent one against account for Kruss flyer. »

  ‘Many boats?’ Kirrah wondered. What ‘Many boats’? She trotted to the edge of the bank, looked out over the now-empty wharves and down to the waterline, where the Kruss was walking along the shore to the right with its hostages. It came to the next dock where a string of the anti-shipping fire rafts were still tied up. It sliced the lines tethering two of the two-by-three meter rafts to the pier, herded the two young humans onto one of the wobbly log floats and forced them down among the oil-impregnated brush and kindling. It tied the two loose fire rafts together and pushed off into the current. Then it called back up: