The crumpled mass of smoking metal, formerly one of Tazh's prized AAVs, plummeted from the sky to be devoured by five meter deep drifts of snow and ice along the Slip. For a short time a thin black line marred the pristine surface, then it blended into the uniform white glare as if nothing at all had happened.
“Lost one, sir."
“Which one? Where?” Tazh said.
“Seven. Exactly eighty-four kilometers due east."
“How?"
“I don't know, sir. I had their blip on screen and was reading their signal just fine, then they vanished. No further transmissions. No blip."
“That's not possible,” Tazh said, his anger balled up in each word.
“It happened, sir. Their search telemetry was all normal, and I was watching the radar images they were sending—then, nothing. Fifty milliseconds prior to that there was a spike on the ion sensors. It went right off the scale and disrupted our electronics here for a couple of seconds, too."
The young officer spun his seat around to face Tazh.
“With due respect, sir, the energy required to do that at this range could wipe us all out—at least disable us—in one shot. Do you think it's wise to go after them?"
“Lieutenant, your job is to run that station, not to question me, so get back to running it and leave the decision-making to me.” Then, smiling the half-smile his scabbed-over face allowed, he said, “However, in this case the question you posed is one worth considering. Tell the others to go to passive scan only. Those shagrats probably used Seven's radar for targeting."
“But, sir, we will lose contact with them when they go passive, and we could lose the other three without knowing it."
“You're right. Tell them to come back, but stay away from the coordinates where Seven went down. Have them make their return well east and south."
If it wasn't possible to get at Kaznov and his men from the air, maybe a ground assault would accomplish what was needed. He didn't need to destroy the shuttles, just disable them so they wouldn't be able to interfere with his taking of Ganeden. One way or another he was going to get Kaznov, and nothing was going to take that pleasure from him.
* * * *
“Alex."
“Yes, Rammix."
“I have detected another pulse discharge near the chosen landing site. I have calculated the energy of that discharge to be three point two TeV over a period of seven nanoseconds."
“Oh my God. Call a staff level meeting for fourteen hundred. My screen."
“Yes, Alex. Are you interested in my other findings at this time?"
“Oh, Rammix, I'm sorry. I was reacting to your first report."
“I understand. I have been observing a hot spot in the same general area—a distance of one hundred kilometers to the north of the previously stated discharge—that is consistent with free combustion of naturally occurring material and analysis indicates it is wood. I have also been intercepting fragments of signals in the UHF region. They are very weak. Some appear to be radar pulses, while others are carrying one form of intelligence or another—voice and telemetry."
At fourteen hundred hours the images of Pax's staff officers and contact experts began to appear in windows on her monitor. When there she counted all forty, she keyed in a data run-out to display all the Rammix information gathered on the planet below—a planet reluctant to give up little more than it had months ago.
“A decision needs to be made,” Pax said. “As you know, I called for a landing to commence in sixteen hours. However, the existence of a pulse weapon of such potential in the area has forced me to reconsider."
“Why?” Rigby, the ship's Landing Specialist asked. “What I see here is still below our shield capacity."
“True, but we don't know if that discharge was just a low-powered test or a full charge shot."
“Good point, Pax,” Rigby admitted.
“Besides, we really don't want to risk a confrontational first contact—if it can be avoided,” Landis of the Contact Control Group observed.
“As I see it,” Pax continued, “we can choose to make our initial landing on the large moon and continue our surveillance from there, we can go ahead with our scheduled landing here and face a hostile reception, or we can find a more secure location away from populated zones. This is not a decision I wanted to make alone, so I propose a vote be taken among the staff officers. Twenty-seven will carry. Are we agreed?"
“I think ... I think we need to discuss this before any vote is taken, and I would like to see the majority vote increased to thirty or thirty-five for a more secure consensus,” Chapin, the Shuttle Coordination Officer said, his comments greeted by a nodding of most of the heads on the monitor.
“All right. To be fair, we'll do this alphabetically and that means you're first, Chapin. Present your points, questions and arguments. After we've all had our say, we'll open it up for discussion or rebuttals, then we'll vote with a thirty-five to carry. All right, everyone?"
Unanimous agreement was shown, and Chapin began.
“First, and this has little to do with the proposed landing program, I wonder why everyone insists on calling the other planet a moon. What we have here is a binary planet with a small moon of a little less than three hundred kilometers diameter revolving around the larger planet of the pair. The other planet is about four hundred kilometers smaller in diameter and damn near the same mass. It has its own oceans—admittedly considerably smaller than the oceans of this planet—continents and islands. All of which, I'd like to remind you, are beneath a nearly Earth standard atmosphere. Conditions there can hardly be any worse than they are here, yet we've been ignoring it. Why? Because we detected signals coming from this one?
“I think we need to give that a little more thought. From there we could keep an eye on this planet and have a lot more time to decide best how to make contact. Furthermore, that little moon is in an unstable orbit that drifts inside the Roche Limit regularly. If it comes apart and impacts this planet before we've had a chance to assess our ability to modify and stabilize the moon's orbit, we and the locals will be a footnote in a history that no one will read for a long time, if ever.
“I suggest that we set up shop on the other planet and approach this one a little more cautiously—work out a long term plan—so that we increase our chances of success and reduce our chances of getting killed."
* * * *
“The other vehicle is moving in to a closer orbit,” Twenty-three's computer said into Niki's ear.
“Have you determined what it is?"
“It is of Earth origin, and the change in orbit indicates preparation for a landing."
“The Fathers? Can we ... can you communicate with it?"
“Yes, we are able to communicate but cannot understand. The codes being used are unknown to this system. Do you wish to establish a voice communication link?"
“No, not yet. I need to think about this first. Call Pasha."
Harko, Trak, and Shan were on the other side of their temporary command center at the Ganeden landing pad, staring down into the monitor array and paying no attention to him. Niki quietly slipped out into the biting cold. The wind had abated and the temperature was dropping fast, bringing an unwelcome ice fog with it.
“Luto,” Niki said into his suit com.
“Yes, Niki?"
“Where are you?"
“Up here at the track block having a cup with the guard."
“Get out of there so we can talk."
“It's okay. He just stepped out to check a transport coming up the track. What is it?"
“We need to get to the shuttles ... now."
“How? We don't have a rover or a transport."
“We will in a minute, right?"
“You mean—"
“Uh-huh."
“But, Niki, the guard is—"
“Do whatever you have to, but don't let the guard report to Harko."
“Okay, Niki. I hope this is really, really important."
&n
bsp; “It is, so do it."
Niki shut off the com and started back for the relative warmth of the shelter.
“Niki?” It was Pasha on the shuttle com jammed in his other ear.
“Is everything ready, Pasha?"
“Yes, love. What's the matter? You sound anxious."
“I am, but I can't explain right now. Bring Twenty-three to the Palmer track as quickly as you can and have the others move to the Ganeden staging area to wait for us. We'll be on our way south in a few minutes, and I'll tell you all about it when you pick us up."
Returning to the shelter, Niki walked briskly to the monitors and pulled Shan away.
“What, Niki?"
Lifting the shield away from his face, Niki said, “I need you to get back to the staging area."
“Want to explain how?"
“I don't know, but I need to get the people ready immediately."
“Yeah? What's going on?"
“Tell you later. Wait a sec—I have an idea.” Niki keyed the com for Luto.
“Yes, Niki."
“Do you have it?"
“It hasn't arrived quite yet. They must have had a little trouble down the track from here. The guard was a real shavecat, but he's resting quietly now."
“Does the guard have any kind of transport?"
“Sure, a one-man interceptor. We won't fit."
“Doesn't matter. When you get the other one, tow the interceptor in with you. Bo has to get back to Ganeden."
“Okay. So, are you going to tell me what's up?"
“Something's about to happen that will change everything, and I don't want it to interfere with what we have to do. I'll explain it all when we're on our way south. Oh, when you get here, don't come off the track to the pad. We'll meet you at the switch."
* * * *
Fifteen Cadre rovers dropped from the Palmer-Ganeden slip, their vertical fans pumping out a throaty roar, their fan blades slashing into ice-laden air, throwing it down toward a surface that was now too far away for any cushion effect. Their thrusters banged out an explosive rhythm as they dropped down to the landing area where Tazh's air transports and remaining AAVs waited in the banked-up snow.
“You're early."
“The wind let up sooner than anticipated, sir."
“Are your men prepared?"
“Ready and eager, Colonel."
“Good. Very good. Pick five hundred of your best cold weather men for a special job. The rest will be assigned to take Ganeden."
“And this special job?"
“I want the shuttles disabled. I have scouts out to obtain their precise locations, and I expect their reports shortly."
“You know how to disable them?"
“Not exactly, but I think high explosive charges set in the landing gear will do it. Your men will be able to assess that better when they reach their objective, but the landing gear appears to be the weak point. I have reason to believe the—"
A communications officer stepped into Tazh's field of view, fired a sharp salute, and waved a piece of paper at him. It was the report Tazh had been waiting for. They had located the shuttles, and it was now up to the troops to cripple them. He scribbled a note on the back of the report and handed it to the other officer.
“You'll have to move fast because I'm sending the main body to Ganeden in one hour, Captain."
The officer glanced at the note Tazh had given him, nodded his understanding and said, “Great Halfyear, Colonel. To the new Paz."
“Yes, Captain ... to the new Paz.” And the end of Kaznov. Tazh watched as the man strutted confidently through the door and smiled until the pain became too much. No matter what happened now, he had them, and he would have that shagrat gaf, Kaznov.
It would be to his advantage if the shuttles could be kept out of the fight, but it wasn't absolutely necessary. Intelligence had it that Kaznov had remained in Ganeden, and Tazh believed that, once the people in the shuttles realized he had started a move on the town or Ganeden, they would be forced into action to defend both the settlement and their precious Delta. When they started to close on Ganeden, their backsides would be exposed to his heavily armed aerial force and, the element of surprise being with Tazh and his air group. He would catch them from behind. His AAVs could inflict considerable damage in one or two passes, then retreat back into the Pockets until they were sure the shuttles no longer posed a threat.
“Give me maximum sensitivity passive scan east of the track and concentrate on these coordinates."
“Yes, sir. All monitors are up."
Exactly one hour later, nine Cadre rovers, loaded with forty-five hundred of Tazh's elite, lifted clear of the snow pack. Their fans drummed against the surface and drove immense clouds up into the still air as the rovers accelerated away toward the town of Ganeden and the realization of his destiny.
Within a minute the surveillance officer burst into his quarters and said, “They're moving, sir. Thirteen shuttles in tight formation to the northeast, and one is—is heading straight for us."
“What the ... they can't have seen a thing yet, and Captain Belden's force shouldn't be more than thirty kilometers east of the track. And how in the name of the Ancients did they know where we were?"
“Those are the shuttles of the Fathers, sir. Maybe they knew all along."
“Maybe, but why the odd movement? If they were going after our rovers they'd be headed due north—and why send only one after us? They can't be that sure of themselves."
“Maybe they are, sir. As I said, one blast of that thing they have could put an end to us all."
“All right, Lieutenant, signal the air group to go silent again, laser communications only, but stay ready. And get details out to cover our ships with snow ... now. I don't want anything showing, and shut down all unnecessary systems to reduce our heat signature."
Was it possible to lose it all in a skirmish with one shuttle? Tazh had a vague knowledge of them, but only in the most general terms. He knew nothing of their systems, propulsion, or weapons other than what he'd seen at the Keep. Could he pit his AAVs against them and hope to win? He didn't think he had the information he needed to risk that. It was beginning to appear his earlier conclusion that he could gain the upper hand was dead wrong. And what about the others? Were they going to swing around in a flanking maneuver?
“That seems to have done it, sir."
“Done it? Done what?"
“Well, sir, the one that was coming our way has stopped just east of the track. Do you think they're going to wait for us to start up again?"
“Could be. For now, we stay quiet and see what they do. Frankly, I've never seen tactics like these."
“No, sir. Neither have I. The others are turning west in a long arc, sir. See that?"
“Mm-hmm. If they hold that path they'll come out forty kilometers in front of the rovers with most of their backsides exposed to our fire. Why would they do something that stupid?"
“I don't know, sir, but we're going to lose them pretty soon. They'll be out of sensor range in two minutes."
“Yes, well, stay passive. If they do engage, we'll know it. Be ready to move on my order, Lieutenant."
* * * *
“Did you have much trouble?” Niki asked, watching the rear-facing sensor as the little interceptor sped north and out of sight.
“Oh, yeah. That Enforcement guard was a lot of fun. The owners of this machine thought I was Enforcement and volunteered to be restrained. No fun at all."
“What did you do with them?"
Luto flipped a thumb at the rear storage compartment and laughed. “I checked them in as baggage. I figured we could give this thing back to them when we connect with Twenty-three. How about Harko?"
“They were so busy with their stuff they didn't notice,” Niki said as Luto accelerated the little transport beyond red-line.
They crested one of the low hills where Ganeden Plate began to buckle in preparation for its dive beneath Palmer Flat, and could see Twenty-three
east of the track with all five meters of its landing gear buried in the snow. It looked like a gargantuan black bug resting on a white carpet. Luto braked the transport to a stop beside Twenty-three.
While Luto helped the cold pack clad occupants out of the storage compartment, Niki noticed that a the sleeve of one of the men's suits was hanging like a mackrawl's tentacle. He reached out and turned the man around, his shield pressed against the other's.
“Virgo?"
“Nik?"
“What are you doing up here?"
“Asked myself the same, I did. Ask this gaf, he's the one dragged me up here,” Mills said, nodding toward a big man with his back turned to him. Luto released the restraints from the tall man's wrists. Niki keyed the suit com.
“Why did you bring Virgo here?"
He turned to face Niki. He stood a full head taller than Niki, and Niki could see nothing but the man's forehead.
“We have to go with you, Mr. Kaznov,” was his calm response.
“Go? Go?” Mills stammered. “What in the name of the Ancients is this ‘we have to go with you, Mr. Kaznov?’ I'll do my own talkin', thank ya very much."
Niki touched Mills's shoulder and said, “Relax, Virgo. Just be quiet. Now, who are you, friend?"
“Turn off the com and let's touch-talk, Mr. Kaznov."
“No, ya don't, gaf. If ya talk, we all listen."
“Please, Virgo, go with Luto to the shuttle and let us talk."
“Damn it, Nik, this gaf's—"
“Go with Luto,” Niki said, his voice commanding and severe.
Luto grasped the loose sleeve and guided a struggling Mills toward the shuttle. Mills stopped resisting after his second tumble, and Luto dragged him back to his feet like a rag doll. Niki waited until the two of them were sealed inside, then turned back to the stranger.
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