Godomir knew the place, but the opening could not be very large. Only one person at a time could get through there, no more, he thought. It would be a long, slow process to get enough people into the lower decks, if they needed to do it. Godomir was a large man, a head taller than most, but a good, kind person who had a gift for working with people and had long been viewed with respect. He was their natural leader and quickly chosen to head the People in this crisis.
Everyone knew how many there were. One hundred and ninety-three humans now lived on the Outward Voyager. Their numbers had gradually increased through the generations. Ninety, perhaps a hundred or a few more, could be committed to fight the Gracks. It was doubtful that they could make weapons for that many in the few hours that they had to prepare, however. It seemed an impossible dilemma. Godomir did not believe the ObLaDas had any tactical sense at all, and he was not about to leave any decisions to them. “It would be suicidal to move all of our strength into the ObLaDa habitats. We would be isolated down there. It would leave this place unprotected. The Gracks could just walk through here and kill everyone.”
“I agree,” Ebert replied, “it would be an intolerable risk, but in the end, we must help the ObLaDas and we cannot just wait to see where the Gracks chose to go. We would never catch up with them. They may bypass our level and attack the ObLaDas directly, but we cannot abandon our home, women and children on a guess.”
Godomir remained divided on what to do, but he agreed that Ebert should open the way into the ObLaDas decks and see what they had down there, determine what help they could give and learn their plans. Ebert went to get ready. He was excited to be the first person to leave the habitat and see where the ObLaDas lived. Perhaps he would even get to see one. Shortly after Ebert left, Hilde, who was neither large nor red, came running into the room. Godomir was startled by this unwelcome intrusion, but Ragnar had told her to hurry. She had half changed, with a long-sleeved, high-necked top, everyone was putting on some type of full body covering, while still wearing a short skirt made of loose ribbons as she often did. “Some Gracks were coming out of the conduit,” she said. “Come.”
“Look at that thing, what a lump of muscle,” Ragnar said, as he looked through the spy hole they had cut into the entry door, and saw the Grack slipping through the lift truck opening. One of the large sliding doors had been knocked flat, while the other bulged inward. There were four of them now, and they gathered around the fallen door. Incredibly, they were able to tilt the heavy thing against the conduit wall and drag it across the dark doorway. They had some chain and cable and tied it in place. Sitting sideways, the door ran all the way across the opening, but it was not tall enough to completely block it off.
“There is our opportunity,” Magnaric said. He wanted to scale the barrier and take control of the conduit. “If we could do that, all problems would be solved.”
An exaggeration, but worth trying, Godomir decided.
LemTer was told of this plan. He had no good impression of the human’s capabilities. They looked to be small and weak, but he sent them the details of the conduit. It was not a favorable place for fighting, not much room to move about, too easily defended, but they would try. Some weapons were already finished, not many, but enough for a small group.
The ObLaDas had a workshop on the second deck, at least old Unadar had a shop, and he had access to a full supply of metal and tools. Unadar was much too old to do much. He was approaching his one hundred year termination day, but he was humored, if you can say so about a species with no such sense, because he was occasionally helpful. Ever since he learned of the threat from the Gracks, however, Unadar had been busy thinking about and making weapons. He cut wedges off iron bars and welded them onto steel rods to make crude battle-axes and spears. But he wanted to make his spears more effective. Poking small holes in giant Gracks might not be sufficiently harmful, he thought. Detachable points, they could come off once the spear penetrated flesh. Yes, and what if the point was attached to the shaft by thin cable? The humans could yank on the spear shaft and the embedded spearhead would turn sideways, making the wound larger. Good! He was not a kindly old Das.
It did not take long to gather twenty men to make a try. Only a few could get into the conduit, more would be in the way. “We will need to climb the barrier and move around the narrow ledge near the entry, and we will need to be quick about it,” Magnaric said. “I doubt it will take the Gracks more than fifteen or twenty minutes to react to an alarm and come pouring onto us, less if they have guards stationed near their entry port.” There had been no sign of the Gracks since the barrier had been set in place. “We must hope the left the entry unguarded.”
“We can hope, but they don’t seem to be that careless to me,” Godomir said. They were not. Kitrack had left three brutes in the conduit. There was ample space across the top of the doorway for the humans to come through if they were foolish enough to try it. The three Gracks spread out along the narrow ledge that ran around the inside of the conduit. They stood on either side of the doorway and waited as still and silent as their most ancient ancestors.
Six men moved to the edge of the lift port and slid their long pry bars between the broken door and conduit wall to force the opening. They needed only a small space to slide through, but no, the chains held firm. Ladders were propped against the barrier. Magnaric climbed up near the center of the door and hung two lamps over the side. Light reflected off the smooth wall twenty-five meters away, nothing in between or below but dark empty space. The beam barely reached the bottom of the shaft. Magnaric moved the light around the cavern, but could not see the Gracks or any movement.
“Go now,” he called. “Get ready to climb onto the next deck as soon as we get ten men over.” The first six disappeared over the barrier and the next were on their way when he heard the cry.
“Glick,” Lutic called out sharply. The Gracks stepped out of the shadows, leveling their long poles at the startled men. They easily slid the tip of the metal rods along the smooth wall wedging the humans into the void. Two of the men saw what was happening and were able to pull themselves back to safety. The others were stabbed with the sharpened poles until they lost their grip and fell away.
Magnaric was stunned at the speed of the disaster. He had lost five men within seconds, surely dead, and every chance at isolating the Grack forces was gone. Grabbing one of the long spears, he scrambled up the ladder, stabbing at the nearest Grack, but the creature easily pulled it out of his hands and in one motion, it turned the spear and jabbed at Magnaric. Magnaric ducked, but not before a tearing pain ran across the side of his head. Bleeding, he jumped down, angry, frustrated, he was carried back into the habitat.
The lowest deck, the outermost in the Filim module, contained the Outward’s control facilities and the one above that, their living quarters. The ObLaDas occupied a complex of buildings that spread across the deck, but it was not enclosed like the alien habitats. Passageways and ramps radiated through the area and gave free access to the interior, so it would be wide open to an invasion. But the Control Deck was LemTer’s real concern. It was far more important and even more vulnerable. That level held all of the vital equipment and control stations. They were housed in large complexes built from a collection of large heavy wall units. The walls were strong enough to withstand the Gracks efforts to break them down, but that would hardly be necessary, as the stations were wide open, built without doors to provide free access. Unless they did something, the Gracks would be able to walk right in and destroy the ship’s control and communications stations, their main robotic control units, and much of their computer capacity. It might not cripple the ship entirely, for the Outward was built with duplicate control stations and computers on the Farside module, but all of the ship coordinators were trapped in the Filim module. None of the ObLaDas in the rest of the ship knew how to operate the key equipment. LemTer was not certain that they would be able to keep the ship operational in a crisis. He hoped that the People would b
e strong enough to hold off the Gracks, but he feared not.
Ebert and Euric cut their way into the pillar. The section blew away with a whoosh with the high pressure knocking the two men back against the wall, not by the gust of air, but by the smell. Unexpected, rank and irritating. Ebert held a rag against his face as he stepped into the narrow space. He could breathe the moist air, just barely. A thick load-bearing cable ran down through the center of the casing. A hole had been chipped into the composite floor, and the flange that had supported the deck had been removed and set aside. He could look down into the dim light of the ObLaDa habitat. The badly deteriorated cable disappeared through the flat roof of a building below. Euric had a length of knotted rope that they could climb down, but he would need to make a ladder if they were going to move there in force.
The cable was as thick as Ebert’s arm and very old. Wisps of steel had peeled away from the ancient strands. The coarse wire would strip away your skin if you fell against it. The two climbed down the swaying rope, using their feet to keep away from the cable, and dropped onto the flat roof of some structure. It was a freestanding building, two stories high, very flimsy. The roof was covered by the dust of centuries; their tracks were clearly visible. The men were s lowed by curiosity as they went into the building. Low rumbling sounds came and went, possibly the Das’ language, they could not tell. The emptiness of the space was strange, an absence of things that should be there. The walls were stained brown by the oils rubbed off passing bodies, darkened over many years, almost no light.
Ebert’s All-1 sounded. UnFel would help them find their way around the habitat. Ebert hoped to find a large open space where the Gracks could be brought out into the open. The narrow corridors were great for defense. It would be easy to stop a larger force or keep the Gracks at bay in the narrow corridors, but that was not his objective. They would need to kill the alien beasts and would need to surround and overwhelm them to do it.
UnFel directed the humans to an open area near the center of the complex. The ObLaDas space held an irregular collection of separate buildings, one to three stories, many with connecting bridges, but a large rectangular area had been left clear and was used to fabricate large assemblies. This wide space was open to the top of the deck where heavy-duty lifts rolled on tracks, and low-slung dollies could be used to move heavy equipment and structural units across the floor. It would do, Ebert decided, if the Gracks could be funneled into this space. UnFel thought they could, there was a wide passage between it and the conduit. It would be the natural course to follow.
The People’s strength would be concentrated on the ObLaDas’ habitat deck. A few would go into the control level and attempt to block off the exits from the conduit. If the Gracks attacked that level, they hoped the delay would gain enough time to move there in force. If all else failed, the ObLaDas were prepared, UnFel said, to take emergency measures. The ObLaDa levels could be isolated and opened to the frigid vacuum of space, or the conduit could once again be set aflame to burn out any Gracks that remained there. It would damage some of the instruments, some ObLaDas would die, but they might be able to survive.
Euric continued down into the Control deck while Ebert returned to the People’s habitat. He stripped off his long suit as he walked down the main passage, shedding the stench that clung to the fabric. He found Godomir sitting with the injured Magnaric. Others gathered around to hear what he had decided. Ebert described the habitat, so different from their own, and the large space they had selected as a battle site. If they could surround an individual Grack, they might inflict what small wounds they could and just keep at it until it was worn down. Simple enough, but dangerous! If the Gracks were too quick, or too strong, the People might not be able to get in close. We will need to be fast and persistent, and take advantage of any opportunity no matter how dangerous, all agreed. The men began to boast among themselves of how they would act and what blows they would strike.
Whatever optimism Ebert generated about fighting within the ObLaDas living quarters was matched by Euric’s despair. The Control Deck was worse than he feared. He could only think of defending the place. What little could be done would never last, he feared. There was only one heavy construction bot on the deck; the other robots were far too weak to maneuver the heavy wall panels that he needed to move. He would dismantle some unimportant structures and use their panels to block off, enclose the key computer and ship management facilities. The ObLaDas that were operating the units would be trapped inside. If they were in luck, the Gracks would not find their way in, but luck was a flimsy thread on which to hang the fate of all their lives.
It was Achaea, sixteen, slight of build, her red-blond hair bobbing up from the back of the room. “Do not forget our archery club,” she called out to Godomir. “We have practiced a great deal and can be very accurate.” There were seventeen in the club, mostly older children, as most knew, who had taken up the pastime as a recent fad.
Godomir was dismissive. “Your bows are small, and weak, and you have only used target arrows,” he said. “Hitting a moving animal is much different.”
“We could make proper arrows,” Achaea protested, “you have no idea how good we are. We could go for the eyes, if they have any.” She was determined and made angry by the rebuke.
There was not much time. No one had ever been in a fight such as this. They had no first-hand knowledge of battles, only their ancient history and stories of bravery, courage, and heroes. All knew of the legends, many had opinions about tactics, they differed on what they would achieve, but Godomir heard none of it. With the ObLaDas’ help, they had some axes and spears. Swords required skills they did not possess. Shields would be of no help against the powerful Gracks. Ragnar worked with the ObLaDas to establish communications and gather information about the decks below. Squads had formed up and were getting used to working together.
Godomir hoped that they would be able to separate the Gracks and kill them off one at a time. Looris was doubtful that they would be able to stand against the massive aliens. But that was for later; now they would make use of all the support that the ObLaDas could provide, and it was considerable. The Das had full surveillance of the Gracks and could track their movements. They would control the lighting and keep the Gracks in the dark as long as possible. There were a few construction robots on the habitat level that could be used to move wall panels about or do whatever might help. As soon as the men were armed and organized, their units would begin to descend into the ObLaDas living quarters. It would take hours to get everyone down through that hole.
Clovic sat in the back of the room, thinking, no longer listening to the talk. He would not be allowed in the massed ranks, too young, not strong enough. How could he help? The dogs perhaps, his friends, even the archery club? He had seen the floor plan for the fabrication area. There were surrounding buildings and a maze of passageways around and through the nearby buildings. He did not know if the Gracks would try to use them, but they might. He would talk with the older boys and girls, and figure out how to do it. Clovic gathered Heneric and Achaea and explained his plan. They would form teams that would enter the dark buildings and alleys on the outskirts of the battle. They would get some dogs, not many, small ones, that could be lowered through the opening, just for warning. They could carry a rack of bright lights, and if they come onto any Gracks, they could blind them. They could attack with arrows first and long spears after that. It might work if they kept to the narrow spaces between the buildings or the hallways inside. Heneric was strong for battle-axes. He would carry one of those.
Clovic gave them two hours to eat, gather weapons and rest before they would meet and practice. Heneric got together the best-trained dogs, including Gussie of course. They went out to try his plan. They quickly found that no more than five people could maneuver in narrow spaces without causing problems. He placed three archers in the rear, two spears, and two axes together with one person to control the lights. “Lets try it,” he argued. “Heneric
and I will be Gracks, the dogs may not give any warning since they know us, but that might happen anyway.”
With the lights out, they approached the team as quietly as they could. Clovic could hear scuffling and knew they were close. As they readied to launch a surprise charge, the lights flashed on. They were indeed blinded for a moment, but as the team ran forward to attack, they blocked the lights and were clearly visible. Clovic called a halt. “We need to keep the lights in front of the fighters,” he said. “We could push the lights ahead on long poles perhaps.” After some more practice, Clovic was satisfied. They had three teams ready for tomorrow. He told them all to get as much sleep as they could, but it was already halfway through the night.
Chapter 16 Wages of Success
The Gracks filed through the broken walls of their habitat and back into the dark, empty pit. Durack had no idea what time it was. The lights had gone out and stayed out. He had been forced to go back to the habitat by the explosion. There were wounded that needed attention and most would benefit from some rest. Durack wanted to reconsider the way forward. The attack had not gone well, he knew that, far too many had been hurt or killed. He was not sure how it had happened. Why had a few minutes in an alien habitat all but blinded five of his troops? How had a few sparks caused so great an explosion and so hot a fire? They needed to take their time and have care in this strange place, but they could not wait for long. He had no doubt that The ObLaDas were gathering their strength and they would be hard pressed if they succeeded in catching them sitting in their habitat.
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