He thumped the Rider on his shoulder and gesticulated that they should flee. The Rider needed little encouragement and the beast dephased into the Continuum, swinging onto a course away from Larissa. Allenson released the breath that he had not realized he was holding. There was no particular reason for the Terran air defense controller to fire on a Rider beast, other than to test the equipment or for the simple pleasure of killing something.
It occurred to Allenson that the Terrans might send a fast frame in pursuit of the beast. He wondered how he could convey such a complicated concept to the Rider, when they lacked a common language. Fortunately, he did not have to. The Rider obviously had the same concerns and he urged the beast to its best speed, veering off the direct route and deliberately seeking out turbulence to break their trail.
The Rider seemed to know what he was doing, so Allenson stopped back seat driving. He occupied his time by going over the recordings on his pad, concentrating mostly on the visual and near spectrum. The video was badly blurred by heat haze and the energy field around the beast. He used Photonshop enhancement software to tweak the images and extract a three dimensional holographic rotational image with artificial contrast and color.
The Rider watched with a mixture of fascination and horror. He shrank from Allenson and made a series of gestures, presumably to ward off evil spirits. Allenson blew up sections of the hologram and lit it by a setting sun, rotating the light direction through three-sixty degrees, causing shadows to rotate around structures making them easier to see.
He was wrong about there being no buildings. The firebase was full of bunkers. Hard emplacements surrounded larger equipment. The design of the firebase suggested that it was intended to house artillery so he was not surprised to identify a battery of eighty mil mortars. Modest weapons by the standards of the Home Worlds, and probably with a limited supply of rounds, but more than powerful enough to slaughter any likely attacker from the Hinterland.
For the sake of completeness, he ran a full spectrum check. The firebase had a military beacon with Identification Friend or Foe interrogation codes. He also found signs of electromagnetic leakage in various parts of the radio and microwave spectrum from automatics and other devices, indicating inadequate screening and poor tuning of components.
The technical sloppiness would no doubt have made a Brasilian Quarter Master Sergeant puce with rage but all it did was depress Allenson, because it meant that the Terrans had a wide range of functional equipment. He thought long and hard on the journey back to Nengue.
* * *
“Well, gentlemen, you have had time to go over my findings at Larissa. Comments please, starting with the spokesman for the platoon leaders,” Allenson said. “And remember I want you to be candid.”
Allenson had read that it was best to invite comments in reverse order of seniority; otherwise there was a reluctance to contradict a senior in the chain of command. One of the lieutenants, Dontey, leapt to his feet.
“Well, sir, we think we should go straight over there and give the Terrans a damn good thrashing. That’ll teach them to invade Brasilian land, what?”
Dontey looked to his peers for reassurance before speaking. Frapes gave him a surreptitious thumbs up. Allenson chose not to notice.
“The Terrans are in a strong position and they may even outnumber us. That does not put you off at all?” Allenson asked.
“No, SIR,” Dontey replied. “A Cutter Stream gentleman is worth a dozen damn Terrans.”
“I see,” Allenson said. “Do you share that view, Captain Rutchett?”
“While I commend the young gentlemen for their patriotism and applaud their spirit, I regret I cannot support their plan,” Rutchett said, dryly. “The Advance Force has no possible chance of successfully assaulting the Larissa Firebase. We would have to debus from our frames at some distance, or be shot out of the sky by their point defenses. They will detect us de-phasing, unless we land a week’s march away. They will probably still detect us as the Terran commander will have patrols out, unless he is a complete fool.”
“I think it would be unwise to rely on that,” Allenson said.
“Yes, sir,” Rutchett said, “which means that they will be waiting for us. They will pin us down with their heavy weapons from those bunkers,” Rutchett gestured at the hologram around which the meeting sat, “and then they will massacre us with their mortars.”
“Go on,” Allenson said.
“We could attempt to invest the base but I doubt we have the numbers,” Rutchett continued. “Unless we simply want to just make a heroic demonstration for political reasons, I believe our only chance will be to wait for the main force. Even then, our losses will be steep and a favorable outcome is far from certain. I am sorry to be so negative, Colonel Allenson, but you did ask me to candid.”
“So I did,” Allenson said. “And I find your assessment largely agrees with my own.”
The lieutenants looked disappointed.
“Patience, gentleman, your chance to fight will come,” Allenson said. “Do you have any thoughts, Captain Hawthorn?”
Hawthorn sighed and said. “We either sit tight on Nengue, and wait for the Main Force, or we accept reality and retreat. I don’t see any other choice.”
“Surely, we are not just going to run away like cowards,” Dontey said, half rising. He flushed and sat down, quelled by the look directed at him from Rutchett.
“When the Colonel wants to receive your pearls of wisdom no doubt he will inform you,” Rutchett said. “Until such time, remember your place, mister.”
“Yes, sir,” Dontey said, crestfallen.
“No we are not going to run away, Mister Dontey,” Allenson said. “That would be strategically and politically disastrous for the ’Stream. The first thing that would be likely to happen is that our loyal Rider allies would defect to the winning side.”
Payne coughed.
“You have something you wish to suggest, Master Payne?” Allenson asked.
Payne was not an officer, not a soldier even, but Allenson had asked him to be present in case the meeting needed his specialist knowledge.
“If we stay on Nengue, sar, it occurs to me that the Terrans are bound to hear of it. Riders like to gossip, you see.”
“So we should anticipate an attack,” Allenson said, thoughtfully.
“In that case, I suggest we immediately upgrade our camp to a full blown fort, Rutchett said.
Payne looked anxious.
“Master Payne?” Allenson asked.
“The Viceroy might take that as a sign that we intend to take over Nengue, sar,” said Payne.
“Quite,” Allenson said. “So let me sum up your views, gentlemen.” He counted them off on his fingers. “We can’t retreat, we need to fortify a base in expectation of an attack by superior numbers and, finally, we can’t fortify Nenge.”
He looked around but no one had anything to add.
Allenson put up a hologram of the Continuum around the Three Chasms.
“My solution is to fortify a base blocking the main chasm from Larissa to Nengue. I suggest here.” He circled an unnamed world. “Any comments?”
There were none.
“In that case, gentlemen, we move out after breakfast. You should get some sleep as tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
The officers filed out. Rutchett hung behind to have a quiet word with Allenson.
“You had that plan in mind before the meeting did you not, sir,” Rutchett said, stiffly. “You did not have to persuade us, you know, we would have obeyed orders.”
“I know, Captain, but I need enthusiastic support. I need the younger officers to buy in to the plan, so that they can lead their men with conviction.
Rutchett smiled. “I see, sir, if you will excuse me, I have some preparations to make.”
He saluted and left the tent.
“Good man that,” Hawthorn said.
“Yes, he is,” Allenson replied.
* * *
Allenson, Hawthorn and Pa
yne went on ahead on single seat frames to select a location for the new fort, traveling up the chasm that ran from Larissa to Nengue. They were running against the main stream but could get a boost from the backwash by traveling at the sides. That made for a fast, if bumpy, ride.
The world was eighty percent water with a single patch of land large enough to just qualify as a continent. It was shaped like an isosceles triangle with the base running north-south and the point towards the west. The east coast was mountainous with active volcanoes.
Rivers arose in the mountains and flowed east, ending in a single large, marshy tropical delta that formed the eastern point of the triangle. Most lowland areas were covered in dense jungles of high, slim trees.
Allenson ruled the tropical delta out as a suitable base without investigating further. Such places were hell-holes in his experience. Similarly, he had no intention of playing roulette by basing his troops on a volcanically active mountain range. He took a close look at the dry-land jungles. The trees were tight packed into a tangled knot of branches covered with sharp edged leaves that glittered in the sunlight. They might have been purpose-designed to fend off landing frames and he lacked the heavy equipment to clear a defensible area.
A small herd of large armored lizard fed on the trees. One heaved itself up to flatten a section and then slowly chomped on the wreckage. Smaller lizards, which may have been juveniles or separate species for all Allenson knew, followed the giants, feeding on their leavings. Arboreal animals scuttled from the felled trees in packs.
The trail of destruction behind the herd closed up in a remarkably short distance. The trees must have a phenomenal growth rate, yet another reason to dismiss the idea of clearing an area for a base.
He discovered clear meadowland in upland areas besides the major rivers. He selected a site and landed on a flat section alongside a tributary that flowed into a river channel. Allenson debussed and examined his surroundings, going through a mental checklist; protected on three sides by water, a flat area of easily worked soil to build bunkers, copses of thickset trees close by on the surrounding low hills to provide timber for building and fueling steam generators and, a convenient supply of freshwater. He activated the beacon on his frame, to guide in the Advance Force.
When they arrived, he gave the order to dig in the vehicles and prepare defensive bunkers linked by trenches. The bunkers were created by digging out a pit to about waist high, and covering it with low timber walls and a timber roof. Earth was thrown over the timber to both disguise and reinforce the structure. The trees turned out to be easy to cut down and shape. Their leaves were spongy, unlike the dominant foliage found away from the rivers.
Allenson went around checking progress until he bumped into Hawthorn.
“Will you take a platoon up the chasm towards Larissa for a reconnoiter? I don’t suppose that the Terrans will move in force against us for a while but I would rather not surprised by a raiding party while the men are still digging in,” Allenson said.
“Sure, “Hawthorn replied. “What are you going to do? Like to come with me?”
Allenson looked around at the ant-hill of activity. The NCOs and junior officers seemed to have matters well in hand but he was uneasy about moving out of communication with the camp.
“No, I do feel a bit superfluous to requirements but I want to be on hand in case anything breaks. I think I may take a transport and do some hunting. The men will no doubt welcome some fresh meat after all this work.”
“Good idea, between ourselves, Rutchett pleaded with me to think of a way of getting you out of the way so he could get on with his job without the CO looking over his shoulder,” Hawthorn said.
Allenson laughed ruefully. “It’s difficult to resist the urge to micromanage.”
He sought Payne out and borrowed a transport. Lieutenant Frapes insisted that he take a couple of soldiers to help with the pedaling and loading. Allenson acquiesced to put Frapes’ mind at rest. One of them was Marks; clearly Frapes was taking no chances of leaving his CO stranded by a broken down frame.
They found the signs of a lizard trail and turned to follow until they caught up with the herd. Payne landed thirty meters or so from the giant lizards for the sake of safety. You never could tell with herbivores. Some could be more aggressive than predators when defending territory or calves. While he didn’t want to be so close that the frame would spook the beasts, equally, he wanted it close by if they had to leave quickly. Thirty meters seemed a reasonable compromise.
If the lizards were impressive from the air, then they were awe-inspiring up close at ground level.
“You stay here with the frame and wait for us,” Allenson said to the troopers.
He jumped down then assisted Payne, who had not completely recovered from their previous adventures. The crushed vegetation crunched beneath his boots like a shell beach. He wondered what it was made of.
The soldiers looked unhappy. Marks screwed up his face.
“What?” Allenson asked, distracted from the flattened plants.
“Begging your pardon, sir, we can’t stay on the frame. Lieutenant Frapes, he gave us orders, sir.”
Allenson sighed. “Mister Frapes told you to stick to me like glue, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir,” Marks replied. “Very firm, he was.”
“Then you had better obey Mister Frape’s orders, Marks,” Allenson said.
This was ridiculous. Here he was, the CO and Lord of all he surveyed, being pushed around by a mere lieutenant. And he had to acquiesce or he would erode Frapes authority. It seemed the higher he rose, the less freedom he had. He looked suspiciously at Payne. Had the man sniggered? Payne kept a straight face under his examination.
“What big buggers,” Payne said, pointing at the lizards.
He summarized everyone’s thoughts with admirable succinctness.
“They must grow their whole lives,” Allenson said, irritation at being nurse-maided forgotten. “There seem to be fixed cohorts of sizes. They must reproduce in synchronicity. I wonder what the timing mechanism is?”
They walked slowly towards the lizards, which ignored them. Humans must look very insignificant to something twenty meters long. The animals were covered with thick scale armor of strong iridescent colors that changed as the animals moved and altered their angle to the sun’s rays. Possibly they had layers of air sandwiched between reflective materials—like a butterfly’s wing. What was that called, constructive interference? Allenson dredged the term up from the deeper swamps of his memory. Why would a giant lizard have butterfly scales? His friend Destry would probably know. Thoughts of Destry naturally turned to Sarai. Guilt and passion, why were they so intertwined?
“You were not thinking of killing one of those monsters, were you, sar?” Payne asked.
Allenson gave a genuine chuckle. “Not unless you have a plasma cannon about your person, Master Payne. No, I noticed earlier that they disturb smaller beasts from the trees. Let’s have a pot at those. We wait until one of these leviathans smashes a new section of jungle. He checked his carbine, and was pleased to see that Marks and his comrade did likewise with their rifles. Payne carried his combat shotgun. Allenson had pointed out that it was useless for hunting, but Payne was uneasy without the short-barrelled gun.
A lizard stiffened its bulky tail, slowly lifting it into the air. The redistribution of weight raised the lizard’s head until its front legs dangled free. It was astonishing to see the vast beast rear up until its head was ten meters above the ground. It took a slow step forward on its hind legs, then another, until it overbalanced and fell forward like a swimmer entering a pool in slow motion. The monster hit the foliage with a crash like a wrecking ball going through plate glass. The trees disintegrated in scintillating shimmers, branches falling like spears to shatter on the ground.
“They’re glass; the trees are glass,” Marks said in wonder.
“Silicon in the trunks, certainly,” Allenson said, so glad that he had not tried to clear a bas
e in the jungle.
Spray of mineral shards covered the lizard, sticking into its armor, explaining the iridescent quality of the lizard‘s cuticle. Butterfly wings, indeed! Allenson laughed inwardly at his naiveté.
“Get ready, the tree-dwellers will flee now,” Allenson said.
A herd of sand-colored animals that looked vaguely like apes shot out of the trees all round the lizard. They ran awkwardly on grasping hands designed for climbing. Allenson fired a three round burst from his carbine, knocking one of the apes over.
“Good shot, sir,” Marks said.
Allenson didn’t reply. He was loath to admit that he had been aiming at a quite different ape but it would be intolerable to lie, even to a social inferior, so he said nothing.
The soldiers opened fire with their rifles and apes began to drop. Purple blood splashed across the ground. The apes kept on coming in an endless rain. They did not appear to connect the humans with their dead comrades. Presumably they had no experience of guns.
Other animals were in amongst the herd, sinusoidal, fast moving, short-legged, weasel-like things, with claws that ripped when they caught an ape. The apes redoubled their efforts to escape, running straight for the humans. The weasels followed, slashing at anything that moved, even each other.
The danger came out of nowhere. Allenson cursed his lack of anticipation. Of course native predators would exploit the situation, just like the humans. It was obvious if he had bothered to think things through.
“Get to the frame,” Allenson said, backing away and firing short burst from his carbine to try to turn the herd.
Payne opened up with his shotgun, blowing holes in the column. For a moment, it looked as if he had succeeded. The surviving apes recoiled, probably scared by the noise. They ran around in circles, while the weasels worked themselves into a killing frenzy. Then Payne’s shotgun exhausted its magazine and the column burst out, resuming its flight towards the hunting party.
“Run!” Allenson said.
He stayed with Payne, pulling the older man with him. When they reached the frame, he pushed Payne on board before jumping on himself. Marks had got there before them. He looked past Allenson with a face frozen in horror, his gun forgotten.
Into the Hinterlands-ARC Page 25