“Who, Proctor?”
“Exeter, of course, you shell-bound idiot.”
Glights made a sound that in another atmosphere might have passed for a sigh of dismay. “There,” he said pointing the longer of his two claws to the smallest group in the middle of the pit.
Even with Glights’s pointing it took a moment for Leri to finally recognize Exeter. What convinced her more than anything was the way he stared defiantly back at her. “Toss him your translator,” she said.
After struggling with the straps that held the translator to his carapace, Glights finally got it off. “I shall return at your call,” he said quickly before tossing the translator into the pit. Before it hit the bottom he was scrambling away through the emerald green light toward his ship.
“You can hear me now, Exeter,” Leri shouted, “and understand me, as well. I want to hear your vain boasting now. I want you to tell me again what you planned to do with me.”
The Castorians quieted. They encircled the translator laying in the dirt, but none of them touched it. Finally a weak voice answered her. “I hear you Proctor Leri, but I have no boasts. I have but one question. What uncivilized humiliation have you devised for me and my beleaguered comrades?”
“Soon enough, Exeter,” Leri said with grim satisfaction. “Soon enough you will learn your fate. But while you wait and wonder about that, do you have nothing you wish to say in your own defense?”
“Nothing, Proctor, for I have done nothing wrong. Neither have my comrades here.”
“Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong?” Leri asked mockingly. “You have eaten your children, yet you say you have done nothing wrong? You attempted to eat me, yet you say you have done nothing wrong? Come now, Exeter. Surely you can see that I find that difficult to believe.”
The translator crackled faintly with a sound like laughter. “Believe what you will, Proctor, but beware of those who brought us here. They, too, might well find you irresistible. In the meantime, I will ask you again what you intend to do with us? Are we to be some exhibit for your people to stare at? Is that the shame these innocents are to suffer?”
There was no mistaking Leri’s laughter. “Far from it, Exeter. You and your innocent friends will pray for such painless suffering before this season has passed.”
The Castorians stirred and crowded closer to the translator. An unintelligible bable of voices rose from the pit in a wave of anger and indignation.
“Silence!” Leri shouted.
Slowly the mix of voices subsided until only one spoke through the translator. “There is suspicion among us, Proctor, that we have been delivered to you for punishment of some sort. Is this true?”
“Are you fools not to know your crimes? Do you think us fools to be deceived by your words? You know why you are here. You are standing in your grave.”
There was a long pause before the first voice spoke. “Impossible. It is against the laws–“ Again a babble of voices quickly drowned out understanding.
Leri was tired of this and suddenly all she wanted was to have it over with. She pulled the oxygen from the sacks behind her gills, mixed it with as much methane as she could suck in, and spat the largest fireball of her life. It roared to the bottom of the pit and consumed the translator. The Castorians scrambled over each other to get away from the fire. But it was too late.
Leri’s action was the signal to begin. From all around the rim of the pit her people spat fireball after fireball down on the Castorians. Their screams of outrage and pain were muffled as they withdrew into their shells for protection.
When a slender black hose dropped into the pit, even the Castorians’ shells were insufficient. Nothing could protect them now. The hose was an oxygen line, and the fire that roiled around its nozzle consumed everything in its path.
The stench of burning flesh mixed with a smell like sulphur that roared out of the pit in angry clouds, driving Leri’s people back from the rim. Still the hose spewed its oxygen, feeding the flames, giving them a life of their own. Leri clung to the rim, wanting to see the whole victory. The smoke stung her eyes. The heat scorched her snout, until even she was forced to retreat back from the fiery brink.
Later, after the oxygen had been turned off and the fire had died out, she returned to the blackened rim of the pit. The charred corpses spilled like black tar from shells split open in the heat. The stench hung in the air like bloated needles that stung her gills and choked her at the same time.
She should have been sickened by the sight of so much death. She should have felt something that would justify the sight before her. But all Leri felt was a hollowness.
Revenge did not satisfy her. It only made her sad. Yet she knew it had been necessary–for her and for her people–and nothing else mattered. As she turned away from the pit and began the long slither toward her burrow, Exeter’s words lingered in her thoughts.
Had some of those Castorians indeed been innocent? Were Glights and his companions subject to the same obscene temptations that Exeter had given in to? Would they, too, turn on her and her people to satisfy some lust for flesh?
Without answers, the questions wouldn’t go away. But there were no simple answers for her anymore. The humans had seen to that. With their despicable quarrels they had destroyed the peace and harmony of her life and her world, and driven away all the simple answers.
Proctor Leri would trust the Castorians to keep their part of the bargain because she had no choice. Leri, the mother and mate, would never trust them.
◊ ◊ ◊
Commander Hew Rochmon checked the message one more time before punching it into the coder. It was against regulations to send personal messages like this. Poor Bock, his brillian Bock, had been dismissed with no evidence even this damning against her – judged guilty until proven innocent. He could suffer a far worse fate than she had. But he had worded the message very carefully so that Mica, and only Mica, would know what he was really saying.
Yet once the message was coded, he couldn’t bring himself to release it for transmission. It was too much – too much for him to tell her, and too much to ask of her. He missed her more than a hundred messages could tell her. That’s all he wanted her to know. He dared not reveal even to himself what made him miss her, for to reveal that would be to admit that inside those carefully constructed walls he had built around himself there lay an emotion he could not trust. It wasn’t even an emotion he dared put a name to, but its strength and influence on his actions were growing almost uncontrollably.
As he sat in stasis fighting the conflicting urges to withdraw the message or to send it, there was a knock on his door. “Come in,” he said quickly. With a jab of his finger he pushed the transmit button.
“I thought you’d better see this,” Captain Londron said as he entered Rochmon’s office waving a blue urgent-signal sheet. “The Ukes have hit Satterfield, and Admiral Pajandcan isn’t sure how long she can hold out against them.”
Rochmon took the signal and rushed out the door. “Call Admiral Gilbert and tell him I’m on my way,” he called over his shoulder. “Then call Admiral Stonefield and tell him that Gilbert and I are bringing him some urgent information.” He hurried through the door without waiting for Londron’s reply.
Stonefield was going to be furious. This was exactly what he had feared might happen.
Ten endless minutes later Rochmon handed the signal to Admiral Gilbert. “Looks like the worst, sir.”
Josiah Gilbert read the signal without expression, but his heart ached with a pain that had no cure. Those were his people dying out there because of a plan he had approved, and there was nothing he could do to help them. When he finally looked up at Rochmon, he felt as though he had aged ten years in the past one. “We’ll have to show this to Admiral Stonefield and the Joint Chiefs immediately.”
“My headquarters notified Stonefield’s office that we’re on our way.”
“Very well,” Gilbert said as he rose slowly from his chair. “I guess you know this mea
ns the end for me, Hew.”
“Not necessarily, sir,” Rochmon said. He had never seen Gilbert look so depressed. “After all, Pajandcan doesn’t say that she’s been defeated, only that the odds are against her.”
“Doesn’t matter. The Joint Chiefs will exact their price and I’ll be the one to pay it – whether Pajandcan manages to save Satterfield or not. All I can do is try to keep them from getting Pajandcan and Dimitri, and you, too.”
Rochmon felt a sense of desperation. It wasn’t important whether the Joint Chiefs went after him or not, but if Sondak wanted to win this war, it was important that the Joint Chiefs continue to make use of Gilbert’s brilliance. “What about HOMFLEET, sir? Couldn’t they send some ships from –“
Gilbert smiled weakly. “No chance, Hew.”
Minutes later after reading the signal, Admiral Stonefield pushed the red button on his intercom. “Activate Operation Heartstopper,” he said calmly. When the acknowledgement of his order came through, he looked up to face Gilbet and Rochmon. “That will dispatch the Royal Oak and the Willard with a suitable escort immediately. The Joint Chiefs were afraid this might happen, so after much heated discussion, we prepared a contingency plan.”
“But, sir,” Gilbert said, “How can HOMFLEET afford to send two launchships when…” He let his words trail off as Stonefield stared at him with an unreadable look in his eyes.
“We cannot afford to send them Josiah. But we can less well afford the loss of Satterfield. The Joint Chiefs were finally convinced that however dangerous this plan of yours and Pajandcan’s was, that it was the best of many poor options.”
Gilbert started to speak, but Stonefield held up his hand.
“No, don’t thank me for that. My feelings haven’t changed. It was Hilldill and Lindshaw who argued in your favor – and Mari. His messages convinced the J.C. that retaking Sutton was worth the risks. And it was Lindshaw who volunteered the Willard and three wings of her Flight Corps to stand by in reserve.”
After a long, uncomfortable pause, Rochmon asked, “How soon can they get there, sir?”
“Four days – three at best. You will signal Pajandcan to conserve her forces as much as possible, and to temporarily withdraw if necessary until the reinforcements arrive.
Gilbert shook his head sadly. “Perhaps I should offer my resignation now, sir.”
“If I were you, I would,” Stonefield said slowly, “but I’m not, and I will refuse to accept it – as will the Joint Chiefs.” For the first time he smiled slightly. “Don’t you understand, Josiah? Against my best arguments, your point of view and General Mari’s, and Admiral Pajandcan’s – all of you who have demanded an offensive war are winning. And for some totally perverse reason, I am glad.”
For a long moment Gilbert pondered what Stonefield had said and finally rose with a sigh. “I wish I were, Stony. Come on, Commander. We have work to do.”
27
ISHIWA CAREFULLY READJUSTED his position in the command chair. The bruise on his knee ached in throbbing counterpoint to the lump on his head. His eyes itched with a dry, gritty feeling. His stomach churned up waves of acid for every cup of tea he poured into it. His bowels were producing gas like a constipated creamcow. Fatigue made every movement an effort he had to think about. But his mind was wide awake.
The missile had hit the forward firing chamber, and only the reinforced bulkhead there had prevent the damage from being fatal to the whole ship. All the emergency damage control training he had put Olmis’s crew through had paid dividends measured in lives. Some had sacrificed their own lives to save ship and comrades. Others had survived by freak luck. Still, the damage to Olmis and her crew had been bad enough, and Ishiwa knew from the expression on Bon’s face that he would have to absorb more grim facts.
“The hull is sealed, Captain. All fires are out, but it will be several hours before we know if we can restore any of the communications systems.”
“And the final casualty count?”
“Seventeen dead, sir, two officers and fifteen ratings,” Bon said sadly. “Twenty-three injured in some way, including you and myself. Five of those are in serious condition – Enkenohuura, Tahooto, Nagasi, Demarest, and Tokayota.”
“What about you, Bon? How’s your arm?”
“I’ll be fine, sir. It’s a clean break. But I’m afraid Olmis has fought her last battle for a while. Chief Moino says the hull won’t withstand the transition into subspace.”
“Well at least the Saks have lost track of us, Bon. Now all we have to do is get to one of our launchships and see if they can take us aboard. Kleber –“ Ishiwa wanted to bite his tongue off. Kleber had been slammed against the bulkhead by the force of the explosion and broken her neck. By the time Ishiwa had reached her side, she was already dead.
He was still too numb to cry for her, but he knew the tears would eventually come. She had filled a much larger place in his life than he had ever expected her too. Now her body filled a sealed spacesack waiting for decent disposal.
He looked over at Enseeoh Nunn who was monitoring the navscreens. “Nunn, what is our position relative to the main body of the fleet?”
“From the last fix we took, sir, it looks like they’re about eight tachymeters on the other side of the sun.”
“Plot the shortest course to the fleet that will keep us at least five hundred thousand kilometers away from Satterfield.”
“Will do, sir. It will take a few minutes.”
“That’s all right, Nunn. There’s no immediate hurry. You just take your time and get it right.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Bon said, “but perhaps you should get some rest – I mean as soon as Nunn plots our course. You’ve been up for over forty hours.”
“Your concern is appreciated, Bon, but perhaps you should rest first. I will start us on our way to the fleet, and you can relieve me in ten hours.”
Bon shook his head. “I’m not sure I could sleep, sir. As tired as I am, I feel like something’s wound up inside me that won’t let go.”
“I understand,” Ishiwa said with a quiet smile, “but try anyway. The medics can give you something.”
Again Bon shook his head. “They already did, but it just seemed to make me more awake.”
“Try, Bon. That’s an order. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going, so I’ll need you rested and ready to replace me.”
Aftre Bon left Ishiwa waited patiently for Nunn to finish plotting the course. He could have helped her, of course, but that would have done nothing for her morale. She needed to feel he had confidence in her, and he needed to be able to trust what she did.
So he waited as she plotted and as tired as he was, he never once doubted that they would make it safely to the fleet and home. They had survived a blow that should have killed them. Now all they had to do was retreat with dignity.
◊ ◊ ◊
Mari returned General Schopper’s salute. “Porras can fill you in on all the details, but basically I can tell you that we’ve got the Ukes on the run all over the planet. They’re still pretty well entrenched in Esqueleada and a few other cities, but General Archer and your Hundred and Second are mopping up over on Elias. The forces we caught in the open have been retreating since the attack started.”
“What about supplies?”
“That’s our biggest problem right now, Thedd. Porras is working on it, and so is that colonel of yours, uh –“
“Blickle?”
“Right. Anyway, I don’t think it’s anything that can’t be overcome. You and Porras may have to kick some tail, but I know we have the troops and equipment to keep everything moving.”
“We’ll do what we have to.” Schopper frowned. “You know about Satterfield?”
“That’s what I’m going to talk to Dimitri about. If he has things as well under control up there as we do dirtside, we ought to be able to break part of his attack force away to go back and help Pajandcan.”
“And strip our space cover?”
“Thedd,” Mari said firmly, “you just worry about securing this planet. Dimitri and I will make sure you have more than enough space cover. I’ll be back in a day or two at most.” He returned Schopper’s quick salute then climbed aboard the shuttle.
“Welcome aboard, sir.”
Much to Mari’s surprise it was Caffey who greeted him. “Thank you, Chief, but I thought you had –“
“Been carrying supplies down and casualties up. You hurt?”
“No.”
“Good, then ride up with me. I could use the company.”
Once the shuttle lifted, Caffey filled him in on a side of the war he hadn’t seen. According to her, the biggest problem was getting the shuttles close enough to the troops. The Ukes still had a fierce number of operational aircraft and weren’t reluctant to use them against the unarmed shuttles.
“Maybe you didn’t notice how battered this crate is, General, but I do believe I’d rather be flying something with a little more armor,” she said as they broke free of Sutton’s atmosphere. “Would make it a bit more comfortable.”
“Next war,” Mari said with a smile.
“Hope there isn’t a next one, sir. This one looks like it’s going to go on long enough.”
Mari nodded. “I’m afraid you’re right. Mind if I nap until we get to the Walker?”
A look of disappointment flashed across Caffey’s face, then she gave him a small smile. “You’ve got about an hour till we get there, sir. Make the best of it.”
Two hours later General Mari was standing in the Walker’s main conference room with Admiral Dimitri, Captain Gilbert, and most of Dimitri’s staff. Mari motioned them all to their seats and immediately cut through the small talk. “What are your estimates, Dit? Can you afford a launchship and two destroyers?”
“I think so, General. The Uke ships still functioning are scattered all around the system, but they’re spending more time running away from us than fighting.”
“Seems like the same thing on the ground.” Mari rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You don’t suppose they’re expecting reinforcements, do you?”
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