Cobra Guardian: Cobra War: Book Two

by Timothy Zahn

  "Why not?" Freylan said coolly. "We're going to."

  "But not alone," Geoff said, his voice taking on an edge of pleading. "You can't expect me to--" He shot a hooded look at Jody. "Jody, tell him."

  "I'm sorry, but he's right," Jody said, working hard to keep a straight face. Despite the desperate danger they were in, watching Geoff the glib manipulator being verbally outmaneuvered by his quieter, more socially awkward friend and co-worker was just too funny. "Or you could come with us. That way you won't be alone."

  "And you won't have to cook," Freylan added.

  Geoff shot him a glare. "Yeah, I get it," he growled. "Cute. Both of you."

  "So it's agreed," Paul said. "We stick together, and go see what's happening with Stronghold." He lifted a finger. "And in case you're working on your worst-case scenarios, let me set your minds at ease. No matter what the situation is back there, I'm not going to ask any of you to do any fighting."

  "Yeah, thanks," Geoff muttered. "That makes it sound so much better."

  "What do you want us to do?" Freylan asked.

  "You three get the survival bag out and start sorting everything into smaller, carry-size packs," Paul instructed. "There may be some fold-up backpacks in there you can use. I'll go and see if I can scope out the best route."

  "I'll come with you," Jody volunteered. "If we're not going to take samples from that gigger, we need to either release it or kill it. I'm not leaving it in the cage to starve to death."

  "Better just kill it," Freylan suggested. "You don't want it turning on you when you open the lid."

  "And it's not like the forest is likely to run out of the damn things," Geoff added sourly.

  The wind was picking up again as Jody and her father left the aircar and made their way south up the hillside. "Clever of them to come during the midmorning lull," Paul commented as they walked. "The spores stop flying, ribbon vines stop flowing and twisting around where they might snag landing gear and get into opening hatches, and the major predators stop moving around until the wind starts covering their movements again. Perfect time to land--"

  He spun around and Jody felt a sudden jolt of mild disorientation as she caught the edge of his sonic blast. A trio of striped saberclaws burst through the tall grass and bushes, staggering toward them, and there were three quick thunderclaps as Paul sent an arcthrower blast into each of them. "--and consolidate their position," he finished, turning his head back and forth in a quick sweep of the area. "Whoever this is, they've done their homework."

  "But why?" Jody protested, blinking hard to shake away the last of the sonic's effects. "Why would anyone invade Caelian? What in the Worlds could they possibly want here?"

  "I don't know," Paul said grimly. "But my guess is that if they're here, they're everywhere else, too."

  Jody swallowed. "You mean Aventine."

  "And Palatine and probably Esquiline and Viminal, too." He looked sideways at her. "I wouldn't worry about Lorne, though," he added. "The Trofts can't possibly have enough troops to occupy the entire planet. As long as he stays out in the expansion region, he should be okay."

  "Unless Chintawa had time to call everyone back to the cities," Jody said.

  "Not if the Trofts were as fast there as they were here," Paul pointed out. "But either way, Lorne's fate is out of our hands, and you need to set it aside. Our concern right now--our only concern--is our own survival."

  They reached the top of the hill, which turned out to be already occupied by a stand of hookgrass. Paul used his fingertip lasers to burn a path through it, and a moment later they were standing at the crest gazing away to the south.

  It was a stunning view, a panorama of multiple shades of green highlighted with swathes of light blue, red, and yellow. The original assessment teams had been astonished at its beauty during their first survey flights over the forests, and Jody herself had had her breath taken away as she watched on the Freedom's Fire's viewscreens during their arrival.

  Now, after less than two weeks on the ground, she couldn't even see the beauty anymore. All she could see was how the forest provided the perfect habitat for huge insects, painful or poisonous plants, and deadly predators.

  "We'll start by following that ridge," her father said, pointing to a low, mostly treeless crest meandering its way through the greenery. "We'll be open to view from above, but we won't have as many trees for the arboreal predators to jump at us from."

  "The Trofts ought to be too busy for a while to organize overflights, anyway," Jody said, trying to visualize the map of the region. "I think that'll take us most of the way to the river. I wonder if the survival kit includes an inflatable boat."

  Paul grunted. "I wouldn't trust if even if it did," he said. "Way too many things with sharp teeth infesting the waterways here. Let's go deal with that gigger and get moving. We're going to be pushing our available daylight as it is."

  They retraced their steps back to the aircar, where Geoff and Freylan were busily sorting out the survival pack's contents, and continued past to the gigger still rocking back and forth inside its prison. "I presume you'd like to keep the trap itself intact?" Paul asked as they gazed down at the growling predator.

  "If possible," Jody said, frowning. The gigger was growling up a storm, complete with a set of subsonics she could feel right through the ground.

  "Okay." Paul lifted his hands, aiming his fingertip lasers at the predator's head--

  "Wait," Jody said suddenly.

  Her father paused, his thumbs resting on his trigger fingers. "Trouble?"

  "I'm not sure," Jody said, gazing down at the gigger. "You remember when we first got here, a screech tiger moved in and you had to shoot it? I'm not absolutely sure, but I don't think the gigger was growling during that time."

  Slowly, Paul lowered his hands. "Interesting," he said. "Walk me through it."

  Jody huffed. "I've hardly even got it myself."

  "Then walk both of us through it."

  Jody chewed her lip. "Okay. Assume I'm right about the gigger's moment of silence. It could just mean that he heard or smelled the screech tiger coming and wanted to keep a low profile. Except that from everything I've read on Caelian ecology the predators here don't usually eat other predators."

  "Though it's a rare animal indeed that'll turn down a free lunch," Paul pointed out. "If the gigger realized he now fell into that category, it would be all the more reason to shut up when he knew something bigger was in the area."

  "Maybe," Jody conceded. "In which case, this whole train of thought has already stopped in the station."

  "Or?" Paul prompted.

  "Or it could be something more complicated," Jody said slowly. "If the gigger is announcing his presence and claiming his territory . . . only then he stops when something bigger with a better claim to that territory comes along . . ." She shook her head. "I don't know, Dad. There's something going on here--I'm sure of it. But I don't have any kind of real grip on it yet."

  For a moment they stood silently, gazing down at the rumbling gigger. "Well, when you run out of theory, it's time for an experiment. You feel up to carrying a double load of survival equipment?"

  "Probably," Jody said, frowning at him. "Why?"

  He gestured down at the cage. "If we each take a double load, it'll free up Geoff and Freylan to carry our new friend here. A little five-kilometer stroll through the forest would be the perfect way to observe his growling habits in the wild."

  "Ooh, I don't think they'll go for that," Jody said doubtfully. "That trap is heavier than it looks. Especially with a full-grown gigger inside."

  "Let's ask them," Paul suggested. "Maybe they'll surprise you."

  To Jody's surprise, they did. "Interesting," Geoff said, frowning thoughtfully as he stuffed food bars and water purification tablets into one of the backpacks. "I don't think anyone's gone that direction before."

  "And why would they?" Freylan agreed as he finished with one of his two backpacks and started on the second. "I don't think ther
e's any known ecology where that kind of interspecies territorial hierarchy exists, at least not the kind you're suggesting. Land and mate wars usually only take place between members of the same species."

  "It might explain why Caelian has so little predator-on-predator killing, too," Geoff said. "Damn. Wouldn't it be a real kick if the solution to this mess was nothing more complicated than everyone carrying around a recording of screech tiger screeches?"

  " 'Course, your population will be totally deaf within three weeks," Freylan said dryly. "But there should be a way to engineer active-cancellation earplugs to filter out most of the sound."

  "So you don't mind dragging him along?" Jody asked, still not quite believing they were going for this so enthusiastically.

  "No problem," Geoff assured her. "Freylan, you think you can rig up something so that we can carry the bars on our shoulders instead of having to actually hold them the whole way?"

  "No problem," Freylan assured him. "We can probably even use the spare straps from the survival kit to rig cross-shoulder harnesses so the guy in back can see over the cage." He gave Jody a tentative smile. "Great idea, Jody."

  "Well, let's not award ourselves any prizes yet," Jody warned. "It could easily just be a gigger trying not to attract attention."

  "Which is fine, too," Geoff said. "If and when he shuts up it'll mean we need to be extra careful to watch for something big to come at us. Okay, so Freylan and I will rig the cage and carry the gigger, while--"

  "Snouts," Freylan said.

  They all looked at him. "What?" Jody asked.

  "That's his new name," Freylan said. "Snouts."

  Jody looked questioningly at Geoff. The other just shrugged. "He used to name his lab equipment back at school, too," he said. "Don't worry, it's harmless. So like I was saying, Freylan and I will carry Snouts, and you, Jody will carry all the packs."

  "She'll carry two of them," Paul corrected. "I'll carry the others."

  "Sorry, but you're the sole defense of this little expedition," Geoff said, shaking his head. "That means you need to be free and unencumbered at all times."

  "I think you're underestimating my abilities," Paul said mildly. "Besides, with a little luck, I'll be able to hear or see any trouble coming long before I need to use any of my combat reflexes."

  Geoff snorted. "If we had any luck, we wouldn't be sitting in the middle of a Troft invasion."

  "No, he's right, Dad," Jody said reluctantly, eyeing the four bulging backpacks. "I guess we shouldn't have wasted time dividing up the kit."

  "Not at all," Geoff soothed. "It'll be easier to distribute the weight around your shoulders and hips this way."

  Jody narrowed her eyes slightly at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she challenged.

  "As much as I've enjoyed anything in the past ten minutes, pretty much," he agreed. He smiled, the old confident Geoff smile that had won the group so much of their corporate funding over the past few months. "If it helps any," he added, "and should the need arise, I'll also be available to do all the cooking."

  "Oh, yeah," Jody said, nodding. "You're enjoying this."

  "Probably not for long," Freylan said, reaching to the seat beside him and picking up a pair of stun sticks. "Here--you should probably carry one of these. Geoff, you want the other one?"

  "Just a minute," Paul said as Jody gingerly took the two weapons and started to hand one to Geoff. "Do any of you know how to use one of those?"

  "We all took the intro course aboard the Freedom's Fire," Jody reminded him.

  "Yes, I sat in on that," Paul said. "Let me rephrase: has any of you ever actually used anything like those?"

  "I had a fencing unit in high school," Jody offered.

  "Did the foils generate current in the half-megavolt range?" Paul asked pointedly.

  "Well, no," Jody conceded.

  "Then your answer would be no," Paul told her. "Either of you?"

  "No," Geoff said as Freylan shook his head.

  "Then they stay in the bag," Paul said firmly. "Unless you've had actual training--and that shipboard lecture doesn't qualify--they'll be more of a danger to you than to anything you're likely to meet out there."

  "Yes, but--" Geoff began.

  "They stay in the packs," Paul said firmly. "Trust me. Some of the animals here are big enough to take a jolt that would kill you outright."

  "Maybe we should just leave them here, then," Freylan suggested. "They're pretty heavy for something we can't use."

  "No, let's take them," Paul said. "They may be useful in setting up a perimeter wherever we wind up spending the night. Just make sure they're locked in the off position before you put them back in the bags."

  "They are," Jody confirmed as she handed the weapons back to Freylan. "Anyway, don't worry about the weight," she added. "I'll be the one carrying them, remember?"

  "So let's grab everything and get going," Paul said, opening his door. "Time to hit trail."

  "Just no hiking songs," Jody warned. "I've heard you sing, and this planet hates us enough as it is."

  Chapter Five

  At Lorne's direction, Treakness led the group down a back stairway, out of sight of the Troft warship, which would hopefully also allow them to bypass the nervous residents Lorne and Nissa had left in the lobby.

  They reached the back door to find that a smaller group was likewise milling around the smaller area there. But everyone seemed preoccupied with his or her own thoughts and concerns, and none of them challenged the intentions of four people foolish enough to venture out into the streets of a freshly occupied city. Certainly none of them asked to come along. Lorne opened the door a crack, confirmed that nothing was moving nearby, and the group slipped out into the early morning gloom.

  By this time, Lorne knew, Capitalia would normally be starting to come to life. Traffic would be picking up as merchants arrived at their stores for pre-opening checks, restaurateurs began preparing the day's dishes, and early-rising office workers got a jump on the traffic and headed in to tackle the work waiting on their desks.

  But not today. Today, the rising sun might as well have been looking down on a ghost town.

  Or at least a ghost neighborhood. Over the thudding of the group's footsteps in his enhanced hearing Lorne could pick out the confused-sounding rumbles of multiple spine leopards as they tried to figure out the unfamiliar surroundings they'd been unceremoniously dumped into. Behind the sounds of the animals he could hear muffled metallic whirrings and clanks as the Trofts in their warships finished locking down their landing gear, tested the gimbals on their wing-mounted weapons, and probably prepared their troop deployment.

  "Where is everyone?" Nissa shouted.

  Lorne jumped, cursing, as he quickly dialed back his audios. "Sorry," Nissa said, her voice this time sounding more like the murmur the question had actually been.

  "Where do you think they are?" Treakness growled before Lorne could answer. "You expect them to all rush outside to see the pretty fireworks?"

  "I was asking about the Trofts, sir," Nissa countered stiffly. "Shouldn't they be moving troops into the Dome or the patroller stations or something?"

  "Don't worry, that'll happen soon enough," Lorne said. "My guess is that they're waiting for the spinies to sort themselves out into territories, maybe draw a few more Cobras or patrollers into the open--"

  And with his audios off, he was caught completely off guard by the spine leopard that appeared suddenly from behind an under-drop trash container across the street and charged.

  Reflexively, Lorne took a long step to his right, perpendicular to the spiny's path, putting some distance between himself and the others. A flick of his eye set a target lock on the predator's head, and he shifted his weight onto his right foot. He would let it close about half the remaining distance, he decided, then swing his left leg up and nail it with an antiarmor laser shot. Maybe a quick burst with his sonic a step or two before that, just to slow it down--

  "Lorne!" Nissa gasped.


  --and in that frozen second he belatedly remembered where he was and who he was with. Not out in the Aventinian wilderness with his fellow Cobras, but in a city with a trio of helpless civilians. Civilians who couldn't fight, couldn't get out of the way, and probably didn't even have enough sense to duck.

  And the spine leopard was charging directly toward them.

  Lorne cursed under his breath, leaping back again to put himself between the civilians and the predator, realizing in that same instant that he couldn't use his planned response. An audible sonic, a visible flash, and he would have every Troft in range converging on this street.

  Which left him only one option.

  The spiny had made it two more steps, with maybe six more and a short leap to go, by the time Lorne had his original head shot cancelled and a new targeting lock on the front of the animal's neck where it met the lower jaw. Then, bracing himself, he squatted down and fell backwards, doing a controlled roll from hips to shoulder blades onto his back. He heard Nissa gasp something else as the spine leopard, sensing wounded prey, shifted direction slightly and bore straight down on him. As the predator shoved itself off the pavement into what it surely expected to be a killing leap, Lorne triggered his antiarmor laser. His leg servos, responding to the spiny's position and Lorne's own programmed target lock, swung his left leg up to meet the incoming threat.

  And as Lorne's heel connected solidly with the attacker's throat, the laser finally fired, burning instantly through muscle and throat and brain.

  The spine leopard's momentum kept it moving, caroming off Lorne's foot and flying over his body. But the creature was dead long before it thudded to the pavement.

  "What the hell was that?" Treakness demanded as Lorne rolled back up onto his feet.

  "It's called saving your lives," Lorne said stiffly. Going over to the dead spine leopard, he scooped it up in his arms, hearing the faint sound of his arm servos as they took the predator's weight. "You might say thank you."

  "Thank you," Treakness growled. "What I meant was why didn't you just shoot the damn thing instead of playing patty-cake with it?"