by Rich Horton
He had been nine when his mother's personal assistant had given him his first overview of the family business. We are a profit making enterprise, BanarJar had intoned. But we fill a social role. Bankers are the functionaries who allocate the capital resources of society. A progressive society must invest some of its resources in enterprises that increase its future wealth. We are the people who decide which enterprises will be cultivated. Governments can do that, too, but we operate under a socially valuable restraint: we forfeit some of our own wealth when we make bad decisions.
The hunting seals cornered the yellow-feathered swordbeak in a shallow cove near the south end of the lake. The meals-and-recreation charts on the North Shore display produced two numbers that looked like they warranted a request for more information—a request he would transmit primarily as a reminder he was performing his fiduciary duties. The monotonous tramp of the widemounts carried them from the trees and birds in one section of the forest to the almost-identical trees and birds in another section.
Sabor's information system pipped. “You have a message from Heinrich Dobble."
"Display."
Heinrich's recorded image replaced the North Shore display. “I've been advised Colonel Jina has dispatched two helicopters in your direction, Sabor. They were one hundred kilometers southwest of his hangars about ten minutes ago."
"They could be close enough to start running a search pattern in about forty minutes,” Purvali said. “They'll be operating at the limits of their range."
Sabor grimaced. “We are reminded once again of the hazards of assuming you can predict your adversary's intentions. Is there any possibility the second copter is carrying fuel?"
Purvali paused just long enough to let him know he had impressed her—a reaction that always evoked a spurt of ridiculously irrational masculine pleasure.
"It could be. Kenzan Khan could have hired one squad. And spent the savings on the copters."
She paused for another ten seconds. “The second copter can carry enough fuel to keep both of them in the area for seventy-two minutes maximum. They could stay longer, of course, if the tanker could find a spot to put down."
Sabor stared at the transmission from the scene of the hunt. Possibilities flooded through his brain. The helicopters couldn't hover above their location and drop Colonel Jina's staffers directly on top of them. The anti-material loads in their guns made that a foolhardy move. The ground troops would probably land a few hundred meters away and pursue them on foot. If one of the copters was a tanker, and it found a spot to sit down, the copters could stay in the area and give the foot soldiers a mobility that could be decisive....
"I'm beginning to feel my training in military tactics hasn't been as extensive as it should have been,” Sabor said.
"They probably don't have our exact location,” Purvali said. “They probably know where we are to within about thirty kilometers."
Sabor placed a small map on his right display area. The random movements dictated by the system had veered them closer to the Ratagava River. They were now about twenty-five kilometers from the river bank. Should they turn away from it? The widemounts could traverse the fords marked on the map but they would be crossing a river that harbored some of the less pleasant representatives of the aboriginal fish and feather community.
He gave the system an order and it generated a course that took them almost due east—directly toward the river.
"We'll obey the fates one more time,” Sabor said. “Colonel Jina may assume we'll be avoiding the rivers—going where he can't corner us against the river bank."
The security system picked up the two helicopters as the copters slipped across the forest from the northeast. Both machines seemed to be steering toward the center of the logical search area.
The widemounts had just begun their hourly rest period. Choy thought they should let the animals have a good feed and Sabor concurred. “They won't be widening the search this far for another hour,” Choy said. “It may be our last chance to give the animals a solid refueling."
Choy was scanning in one second bursts at random intervals spaced four to eight minutes apart. The system didn't register another blip until he made two more scans. The copter was just about where it should have been if it had been executing the search pattern Choy had predicted.
"They have to be refueling.” Purvali said. “They couldn't be running that kind of pattern if they weren't refueling."
On the hunt display, the hunters were riding toward their dock with a piece of the swordbeak's flesh speared on each lance. The hunters had conducted their final, single-handed rushes at the swordbeak with a stately, ritualized formality but the kill itself had been a blood spattered fury of massed lance thrusts.
"It's going to take them another half hour to reach the dock,” Purvali said. “Are you sure you can't contact Possessor Avaming now? Don't you think he may be very aware he was one of the people who didn't receive any applause when he made his final attack? Isn't it possible that might make him exceptionally receptive, Sabor?"
"It's too risky,” Sabor said. “He could shut me off in a second if he decided he had to let me know I'm dealing with someone who truly understands style. I'd never get another chance."
The info from Choy's display appeared in front of Sabor. A helicopter symbol occupied the northeastern quadrant. A vector line indicated the copter was traveling in their direction.
"It's abandoned the search pattern,” Choy said. “They've probably located us. Shall I keep the radar active?"
"We might as well stay informed."
They heard the rattle of the copter's engines when the display placed it about a kilometer behind them. It closed to a hundred meters and the symbol stopped advancing.
Choy had hung four cages on the side of his widemount. The top of one of the cages flipped up and a white bird flapped toward the treetops. Choy paused the bird just above the canopy, where its color would blend with the leaves, and copied its transmissions to Sabor's display. Three of Colonel Jina's hardbodies were executing a classic rope descent from the copter. A guard cat was being lowered in its harness.
"It looks like he's opted for a quick-victory, low-personnel budget,” Purvali said. “Two copters. One eight man squad and six cats. Eight cats if you limit the squad to hardbodies—which would probably be the optimum configuration for a combat unit under these conditions."
"It should take them about five minutes to lower the soldiers and their cats,” Choy said. “I'm placing five of our cats between them and us. The other three will watch our front and flanks."
Purvali added her consultant's edge to her voice. “I recommend we launch a counter attack. While they're vulnerable. I can go back and try for the copter. Our cats can attack them while they're unloading."
Sabor frowned at the display. The three hardbodies had already slipped beneath the canopy. A second guard cat tumbled out of the door and he watched it start its descent.
Purvali was the logical person to try a ground to air shot. Choy was the security expert but he was operating the cats. And the rest of the security system.
"The copters have to operate together,” Purvali said. “A hit on the troop hauler should drive both of them out of the area."
"Attack with the cats, Choy. All five. Try to do as much damage to their cats as you can. Don't waste effort on the humans."
"You can always negotiate for me afterward if I get unlucky,” Purvali said. “You can't do anything if they capture you."
She had already picked up her weapon and raised the side of her carrier. Her feet were resting on the top step of the dismounting ladder.
"We won't get another opportunity like this, Sabor. We can't afford to waste it."
A third cat dropped out of the copter door. “If my estimate is correct,” Purvali said, “they're going to deploy eight hardbodies and eight cats against eight cats and one financier with two assistants."
"Give them one burst,” Sabor said. “Just one. And get b
ack here."
Purvali dropped to the ground as if she had just been told she could run outside and play. The trees and the underbrush came between them before she had taken five steps.
Choy added an overhead map view to Sabor's display. Five blue cats were racing toward the area under the copter. There would be no feed from Purvali. They had to assume someone was sitting in the helicopter monitoring their transmissions.
Three red cat heads appeared on the display. Four red circles marked the positions occupied by the hardbodies who had reached the forest floor. Choy disregarded his instructions—quite rightly, Sabor realized—and directed two of his cats at the red circles. The cats couldn't attack the other team's cats if they were paralyzed by moles from the enemy guns.
Three of Choy's cats converged on one of the red cat heads. Slashing, snarling cartoon animals replaced the blue cat symbols.
Sabor had split the right side of his display top and bottom, with the map on the bottom and the image of the copter on top. The hardbodies on the ropes ripped their guns off their crossbelts as if they were conducting an exercise in simultaneous movement. They twisted around on their ropes and aimed their weapons one handed. The muzzles were all pointed in the same general direction.
On the map view, a grinning cartoon cat clasped its hands over its head. The basic blue cat symbols replaced the cartoon and sped away from the landing site.
"We crippled one of their cats,” Choy said. “I figured that was good enough. Run in, do some damage, get out before we lose anybody."
"Quite right. My sentiments exactly."
Something glistened on the upper half of the copter. Choy zoomed in. The side of the copter filled the upper half of Sabor's display. The metal seemed to be covered with a thin film.
"I think she hit a fuel tank,” Choy said.
Choy pulled back the view. Cats were rolling out the door of the copter. Two hardbodies leaned over the side and grabbed at the ropes that were already being used. The hardbodies who were already hanging on the ropes were still firing at the point they had selected.
Choy's cats formed a defensive line thirty meters behind the widemounts. Sabor twisted around on his pillows and peered into the forest. Purvali's carrier blocked a third of his view. Her widemount eyed him with bored indifference.
His mother had warned him. Are you sure you should ask for a woman like that, Sabor? Remember—you are asking for someone who has all the qualities you find most attractive. You are asking for someone who will draw the maximum response from your own personality structure. You will be in control of the situation in one, very limited, sense. She will love you. She will want to please you. But can you control the emotions she will arouse?
There had been times when his mother had contented herself with male concubines. For her, they had obviously been a respite from the masculine storm centers that normally diverted her. She would never have requisitioned a concubine who could engage her deepest hungers. Sabor's sisters seemed to feel the same way.
The side of Purvali's carrier swung up. She trotted around a tree with her gun held across her breasts and hopped onto the ladder.
"Did I do any damage? Could you see if I did any damage?"
Sabor's widemount swayed underneath him. Choy had started them moving again without waiting for instructions.
"We think you hit a fuel tank,” Choy said. “They're dumping people and cats like the copter crew is very anxious to get out of here."
Sabor rose to his knees inside his carrier. “I told you one burst! You disobeyed me. You disobeyed a clear instruction."
"They couldn't see me. I had plenty of cover."
"They knew where you were. I could see it. They had every gun trained on the same position."
"They had a general idea. Just a general idea. I was surrounded by leaves."
"How many hits did your armor have to absorb?"
Purvali lowered her eyes.
"How many?"
"I quit when it told me it was approaching its limit."
"Two more hits! Two more. That's all it would have taken! Two hits. And you'd be in their power right now."
"I hit their fuel tank, Sabor. They're sending the copter back! We won't have to worry about airlifts and air attacks. I evaluated the situation and balanced the risks—the danger they might capture me versus the danger we'd be in if they kept the copters in the area. I was the one who was there. I could see I was in a good position."
Sabor returned his attention to his display. Purvali's pleading face disappeared behind the three segments of his montage. The scout bird was fluttering through the upper reaches of the trees and picking up glimpses of the force gathering behind them. Choy's map showed him the positions of their cats and the estimated positions of their adversaries.
The members of the Benjori Hunt were riding up to their home dock with their mounts pressed into a tight, two-file formation. Four servants were waiting for them behind a table crowded with glasses and champagne bottles.
"I suspect an analysis of our situation may be in order,” Sabor said. “How much time do we have before Colonel Jina's bravos wear down our defenses with their unsporting superior numbers?"
Purvali focused on the images floating in front of her eyes. Concentration nullified the emotions that had been playing across her face.
"Our rest stops are our biggest problem,” Purvali said. “We can stay ahead of them indefinitely. But they can catch up at our rest stops. And whittle away our defenses. The big variable is Choy's maneuvers with the cats. And the kind of luck he has."
Sabor skimmed the report she had placed on his display. The widemounts were faster but Colonel Jina's hardbodies had more endurance and the feedback from the sensors indicated they had ended up with six armed men supported by seven cats. They could stay on the trail indefinitely, close the gap at each rest stop, and concentrate their extra numbers on one or two cats at each stop. They could launch a final, irresistible onslaught as soon as they eliminated three or four of the guard cats.
"Colonel Jina tends to be a thrifty tactician,” Purvali said. “I think we can be confident he won't launch a direct attack on our moving fortresses until he's thinned out our cats. We have to make sure he understands we're willing to kill his cats, Choy. He has to know he's going to lose some valuable assets if he attacks us too early."
A new set of simulations raced across the display. A diamond representing a figure with a gun entered the fray. The diamond darted through the woods with all the speed a certain very familiar woman could muster. A note at the bottom of the display reported the results. In 527 simulations, the addition of the extra combatant had added three extra march periods, on average, to the length of time they could stave off the inevitable.
"And how many times did our little diamond get captured?” Sabor asked.
"Almost none. I can break off combat any time the odds get too rough."
"But will you, my dear? Will the real life, vulnerable human being always have the good sense to retreat?"
"You're fighting for your freedom, Sabor. For your control over your own mind."
"And how free will I be if they take you hostage? You may not believe it, but if Kenzan Khan gets you in his unpleasant clutches, he'll have all the influence over my actions he could possibly desire."
The hunters of the Benjori Hunt chattered and gestured as they downed their champagne and bundled off the pier. They isolated themselves in private changing rooms and entered their dockside banquet hall in ceremonial costumes that draped them in white and red.
Colonel Jina's hunters were much more businesslike. Choy was monitoring them electronically, with supplemental glimpses from his visual scouts. On the map on Sabor's display, the hardbodies steadily fell behind but their speed never slackened. When Choy called for the first halt, the hardbodies were a little over one kilometer behind—about ten minutes marching time at their current speed. Choy deployed the cats in a defensive formation and Sabor watched the hardbody symbols move r
elentlessly forward.
"They're speeding up for the assault,” Purvali said. “They're really driving themselves. Possessor Khan must be paying Colonel Jina something extra if the colonel's willing to inflict that kind of stress on his cadre."
The hardbodies and their cats followed the script predicted by Purvali's simulations. They concentrated three cats and four hardbodies on the cat at the extreme left of Choy's defensive line. Choy was faced with a classic dilemma. If the outnumbered cat held its position, it could be eliminated. If Choy pulled it back, the assault force could sweep around the flank and strike directly at the widemounts and their passengers. Choy responded by ordering two cats to the defense of the animal under attack. His other cats extended their line and took up defensive positions.
Sabor resisted the temptation to damp his stress reactions as he watched the tactical exhibition on his display. He knew he needed all the alertness his brain could muster. Visuals from the aerial scouts offered him flashes of the real life violence hidden under the symbols moving across the map. Cats leaped on other cats from ambush and disengaged after a flurry of bites and slashes. Hardbodies slipped through the forest with their guns searching for targets.
Sabor's widemount was demolishing a bush that was covered with thick leaves and dangling pods. The other widemounts were gorging on the local vegetation with the same concentration. Choy had thoughtfully placed a time strip on the map display, so Sabor could see how many minutes they had to wait before the rest stop ended.
Sabor decided to intervene when the countdown reached ninety seconds. “I think we should go now, Choy—if you feel you're in a position in which disengagement looks feasible."
Sabor's widemount raised its head from the bush. A huge snort jostled its frame. It turned away from its chosen collation and lumbered toward its place behind Choy's mount.