Facilities have been incorporated into our infrastructure to accommodate up to four skidders and six skimmers at a time. Thereafter, I propose we commence regular mechanized shuttle runs once per week, along with a new schedule of radio updates, every evening at sundown.
~ * ~
This concludes my first report as acting base commander.
Expectations are high, as is morale. This location is capable of providing a ready source of precious iron ore for the foreseeable future. Extraction and smelting methods are simple and straightforward. I sincerely hope our efforts instill a feeling of hope and renewed enthusiasm among our friends back home. Remember, this is but a first step into uncharted territory. It would appear many more options are opening up to us than was originally anticipated.
I have confidence that your latest endeavors are going well. If successful, they will prove a great boon to future production here and at other sites yet to be discovered.
Upon my return, I look forward to discussing recently gained tactical intelligence with you, in person.
Marcus.
“I like it,” Marcus murmured, “and although I haven’t got a clue what some of those scientific terms mean, it will provide a succinct, informative, and hopefully encouraging précis for the command staff back home.”
He glanced toward his dusty cloak on its peg.
Although I must admit, I think I’ll miss the place.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Once More into the Breach
The rolling countryside sped past. Leaning back, Mac lifted his head to the sky and savored the breeze sweeping across his face. Not only did it take the bite out of the midday heat, but it helped him relax before the coming storm.
Sitting down, he rested against the side of the skimmer and closed his eyes. I don’t suppose it will hurt to review things one last time.
Because of the specifics of their last mission, they had thought it prudent to avoid the use of the subway to gain entry to the launch site. There was obviously more to the Horde than had previously been realized. Thus, it would be fair to assume their enemy would have taken precautions to prevent anyone using that avenue of approach a second time. Att Mohammed’s suggestion, the entire team encamped into three vehicles—two skidders and one skimmer—and simply utilized the excellent freeway running adjacent to the spaceport’s environs. It was a far longer path, but one that circumvented an area of known danger.
Traveling just over twenty miles along the Rhomane to Floranz highway, they continued south until they were well past the facility’s western precincts. Taking the first east running link road—one that would eventually branch onto the route to the Forest of Tar’e-esh—they cut back for several miles before diverting north, overland, toward the southern perimeter fence. One skidder, containing Mark, Sean, Andy, and the Boleni Heights crew, peeled away at that stage, intent on their own specific agenda.
The other two groups forged ahead in the remaining vehicles.
Soon, Stuart and Fonzy would lead the skidder team toward the cargo ship objective, while the rest would stay with Mac and Sam in the skimmer, and hopefully secure possession of the smaller vessel.
Mac checked his watch.
By my reckoning, we should arrive at the fence in just under five minutes. Totally unexpected and unobserved. If our intelligence is right, two craft suitable for our needs will be parked half a mile apart, not far from our point of entry along the southern apron. The Promulus, a diplomatic executive shuttle used by the former First Magister of Rhomane, and an ex-military freighter, the Tarion Star. Records indicate they’re equipped with some of the most sophisticated tear-space drives the Ardenese ever developed, so they’re bound to be top-notch models.
He ran through a few calculations in his head.
Hmm. By now, Mark should have arrived at the astrometrics lab. He’ll be deploying his men and equipment from the skidder. It’ll be interesting to see how Jake Rixton’s boys handle themselves. Clever idea of the lieutenant’s, to offer a section of his officers and their horse, and have them carried to the target site on the transporter. Now we’ll have a flying cordon to harass uninvited guests and keep Andy safe while he’s manning his sniper’s position.
The shimmering outline of their destination grew larger by the second.
Mac turned to study the two pilots opposite him: Angela Brogan and Danny Ricci. Both were absorbed by the detailed schematics of the Promulus, displayed on a 3D projection in the air before them. Like the other pilots selected for this mission, they were from a time close to a thousand years into Mac’s future. As such, they were well used to handling craft that were completely beyond his understanding.
Additionally, prior to the assignment, Saul had asked the Architect to construct a set of mind-mesh flight simulators of both target ships. All four candidates had been training intensively over the past weeks, and now felt confident of being able to nurse their respective charges home, using either manual or thought control software. The fact that they only needed to activate the aqua drives on this occasion had raised everyone’s hopes considerably. Earth had, evidently, developed similar technology herself during the late twenty-third century; therefore, the concept was common knowledge to all those involved.
So, all I have to do is get the guys onto the flight deck without being detected, and while they’re familiarizing themselves with the layout, the engineering boffins will power up the aqua-cells.
Mac glanced down at the pile of shield emitters stacked by his feet. I’ll have to make sure we get the timing of that phase spot on, just in case these new babies don’t work as well as expected.
“One minute,” Nick’s voice advised over the radio. The skimmer decelerated. “Prepare for deployment.”
Someone’s becoming more professional, Mac thought. Let’s hope it continues to spread among the rest of the civilians.
As the two vehicles glided toward the fence, the smaller skimmer maneuvered in behind the skidder. Several crewmembers on board the larger craft ran forward and sprayed the chain links with solvent. Moments later, the familiar odor of burning metal filled the air, accompanied by a faint hissing sound. The acid ate through the wire in seconds, and Nick used the weight of the skidder to push through the hole.
Once inside, the two hovercrafts paused while the distance to their targets was assessed with passive rangefinders.
“Stu, do you see the Tarion Star?” Mac asked. “It’s the vessel directly behind the Promulus, another seven hundred yards in from the apron.”
“Yes, yes,” Stu replied. “Give us a few minutes, and we’ll be on site and ready to conduct preliminary sweeps.”
“Wilco. I’ll check with Mark up on the mount so we can synchronize our efforts.”
Adjusting his position, Mac triggered the scope’s rotating bandwidth. He was able to scan across the entire width of the facility and up onto the crown of the mountain with remarkable clarity. By means of the viewer, it appeared as if a small nest of ants had been stirred into frenzied activity. Tiny figures scurried about, here and there, setting out equipment and preparing for the next stage of their coordinated attack.
“Mark, this is Alpha, come in?”
“I’m here, Boss. You ready to go?”
“We will be shortly. Stu and his squad are on final approach to the Tarion Star. We’re about to deploy at the Promulus. Once the shield walls are operational and the flyers are up at both locations, I’ll give you the signal to enter the next phase.”
“Understood. For your information, our cloaked sentry drones are already patrolling, and Bob Neville’s about to activate the armed squadron. I’ve tasked two of them to skirt both the underpass and the Seranette for signs of enemy activity. That should give us plenty of warning if anything comes from that direction.”
“Good thinking.”
“The science team has given the control room and backup generators the once over. They are confident they can initialize the computer core in less than an hour. Once
everything is ready, we’ll hang fire for your word.”
“Roger that.” Mac couldn’t help but feel he was missing something. “Mark? Remember, we don’t have to rush. Seeing as the astrometrics facility has to be held fast, and you’re ahead of schedule, ask Lieutenant Rixton if he wouldn’t mind lending you a few of his men to scatter the gravity mines. Those boys are surprisingly switched on, and using the horses will leave your skidder free to concentrate on the null-shield. Just explain what you want, and get Andy to oversee the dispersal before he sets up his sniper post.”
“Will do, Boss.”
“Alpha, over and out.” Mac ran the viewfinder across the deserted field once more. Pausing on the distinct profile of the Seranette, he wondered, So where are you this time?
He eventually turned back to assess the progress of his own small squad.
Sam gave him a thumbs-up. “Area’s clear, Sir. Shall I dispatch the pylon team? Get the defensive generators in place prior to activation.”
“Do it. And once it’s done, escort Angela and Danny inside with the Tec-heads. We might as well enjoy the comfort of a few minutes’ grace before the sweating really starts. I’ll stay here and wait for the ready signal.”
Sam nodded and began issuing directions.
Mac resumed his scrutiny of the wide open expanse.
You’re here, somewhere. I know you are.
*
Decimus Martinas shook his head in disbelief. Why do they persist in being so wasteful of their lives and resources?
Baffled, he continued to watch as the Horde threw themselves against the wall. In many instances the brutes were able to swarm over one another like insects before the effects of the fermionic matter took hold and ruptured their energy matrixes. Flash after brilliant flash blazed forth, followed by the dull thud of yet another implosion.
Turning to his companions, Decimus noted the contrast written across their faces. The Native Americans looked on stoically, as if their senses were blunted to the savagery before them. The Caledonians, however, appeared deeply shocked at the wanton disregard of such peril.
“Why do you think they do it?” Cathal MacNoimhin hissed. “We know them to be intelligent creatures, both cunning and devious. So why the charade? Do they think we’ll forget what we’ve learned about them?”
Other highlanders murmured agreement. None took their eyes from the scene below.
“I’ve given up trying to fathom these beasts,” Decimus replied. “That they are crafty is beyond doubt. I have the standby cohort working in tandem with those new flying machines at other strategic points around the city, just in case this ploy is another of their ruses. So far, my concerns have proven invalid. As always, the demons appear focused upon this one spot. And we are ready for them should they prove successful.”
Everyone turned to view the recently completed internal fortifications.
The inner lining of the wall had been painted in a tar, lydium, and iron mixture that had stained a whole section deep brown. Now the concoction had cooled and hardened, it was not only extremely resilient, but would prove fatal to the touch of any ogre that came into contact with it.
In the unlikely event of a Horde member being able to endure such a transition, they would find themselves within the confines of a sealed building complex, the walls, floors, ceilings, and doors of which had been daubed in a similar coating.
If by some miracle they were also lucky enough to survive that, the beasts would then encounter an area christened the Arc of Death by those who had constructed it.
The previously cultivated fields had been cleared of all crops and domestic beasts. Now, a semicircular feature extended out from the wall for a distance of a full mile. Inside it, a staggered series of manmade trenches and hillocks were clearly evident. Multiple layers of razor wire had been stretched out at the bottom of every ditch, while iron-tipped stakes had been positioned along each crest. Currently, a succession of collapsible bridges connected every mound to the one behind, enabling defenders to retreat in an orderly fashion as their ammunition depleted.
By far the biggest characteristic of the Arc was the moat. Positioned exactly half way out from the wall, it ran from one end of the construct to the other, dividing the killing field into two. At nearly one hundred yards wide and three yards deep, it bristled with solid steel rods which had been driven over five feet into the ground. So tightly packed were those spears that it was difficult for an armored man to thread his way between them. It should prove an impassible hurdle for the Horde.
At multiple points throughout the trap, white posts had been erected to act as distance markers for the ballista captains to aim at. The catapults formed the final stage of the mundane defenses and beside each one, sacks filled to the brim with a sand and iron-filing mixture stood ready.
Indicating the masterpiece before them, Decimus said, “It is a daunting array, and one I would not like the prospect of having to navigate during battle. For the demons to even contemplate such a hurdle, where the slightest touch will mean death, will indicate a resolve we should prepare for now. They do not fear the breach, my friends. If they do ever get through, I doubt that even this great edifice will dampen their ardor, and I must admit. That worries me.”
The Iceni warriors murmured between themselves for a moment, before coming to a decision. Cathal spoke for them. “We hear what you say, Centurion. Me and the lads will take a little jaunt down to the Arc and mooch about for a wee bit. See if we can find any evidence of mischief. If the devils make the mistake of sticking their noses through while we’re there, we’ll give ʼem a run for their money and make them bleed. And don’t worry. We’ll save some for you.”
Laughing, they crowded forward onto one of the transporter pads, and disappeared from sight.
By the gods, they’re a loud and boastful bunch. Decimus grinned. But I’d have them at my back in a fight any day. At least they put their money where their mouths are . . . Unlike some idiots I could mention.
He turned his attention to the Sioux braves, who were still studying the killing field.
“And what about you, my friends? Do you think our efforts are in vain?”
Diving Hawk continued to survey the huge construct for a few moments longer. “I do not doubt that the spirit demons will come,” he replied impassively. “They have no other purpose in life. What they will do once they achieve their goal? Now that remains to be seen. We must be ready.”
With that, the entire group walked away without another word.
Decimus studied them as they went. Strange lot, those Indian warriors. They don’t say much, but when they do, they strike the heart of the matter. And fight? He snorted. I have a feeling we’ll be very glad they’re here in the days ahead.
Several contingents of his men began another patrol of the battlements, leaving Decimus alone for the few minutes it took to complete the sweep. With only his thoughts as company, he tried to imagine what he’d do if confronted with an ogre, face to face.
Patting his newly forged sword, he grimaced. I’d take as many with me as I could. They’ll never kill me without a fight, that’s for certain.
A roar from below caught his attention.
Rushing to the wall, Decimus leaned out and peered down. A bristling mass of conflicting energies had piled itself against the cold might of the barrier.
They’ve managed to reach up higher than they’ve ever done before.
He looked closer. What in Mercury’s name are they doing?
Trying to improve his angle, Decimus held on tightly and edged a little further out onto the lip of the buttress.
Another burst of howling distracted him from the sound of rapid footsteps, approaching from behind. Some form of sixth sense warned him at the last second.
Who is—?
Too late.
Just as he was about to turn, rough hands shoved him hard in the back. Helpless to prevent himself from tipping over the side, Decimus didn’t even have time to draw his sword befo
re the ground swarmed up to meet him.
*
“Are you sure it’s really necessary?” Ayria Solram complained. “We’ve been attempting this every day for over three weeks now, and I don’t seem to be getting any closer to clearing my thoughts than I was at the beginning.”
“And that is precisely your problem,” Stained-With-Blood countered. “Your scientific mind is too cluttered. As I’ve stressed repeatedly, don’t try. Do. Stop thinking. React, and let gut instinct guide you. There is no need to scrutinize every little idea and action. Simply allow the spirit of this world to embrace you, and carry you to where it needs you most. Napioa will be waiting. You’ll see.”
Strangling her frustration, Ayria forced herself to stop pacing, and took her position on the floor before Stained-With-Blood once again.
“Why do we have to sit like this anyway?” she whined. “It’s uncomfortable. How you manage to relax when your muscles are this cramped is beyond me.”
At last. Stained-With-Blood smiled. A gleam entered his eye. “Why? How would you like to position yourself?”
“Well. When I had my experience, I was in bed, lying down. I was warm and calm. Restful.”
“And?”
Ayria didn’t seem to get the gist of his question, so Stained-With-Blood emphasized, “And what weren’t you doing?”
Her eyes widened in comprehension. “All those things you mentioned, because I was half asleep.”
“So why don’t you put yourself in a similar situation now?”
Ayria stared at him, mouth agape.
He continued, “For the past two weeks I have been encouraging you to sit before me. A matter of habit, for all Blackfoot spirit-walkers adopt such a position when engaging in dream-quests. To us, it is natural. You, however, are from a time far removed from ours. It’s your skills we are trying to open, not mine. Yet not once did you think to take that first vital step. What posture do you feel will be most conducive for you to achieve a relaxed center?”
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