Warrant Venizelou slung his weapon back over his shoulder and brought up the rear.
Inside the commandeered longhouse, the sublieutenant led them to the living quarters and gave instructions to one of the enlisted men to get food and drink for the visitors. The acolytes quietly took seats, but the orange robed monk was obviously intrigued, in a horrified way, with the military establishment. The former clann longhouse had been converted into a barracks and military spick and span was the order.
The sublieutenant, somewhat proud of his first command, was not averse to showing him around, and the follower of Krishna was properly impressed by such devices as the autostove and properly shocked by the weapons.
He said, gentle reproof in his voice, “My son, before I took my soma, upon the urging of the Guru Mark, I, too, was a clannsman, a raider. But my weapons were simple affairs, a claidheammor, a skean, a carbine. But these terrible things…” He gestured at the warrant’s short hand weapon.
The sublieutenant grunted. “Fires a limited range laser beam. Actually, weapons aren’t as sophisticated as all that. No reason to be, I suppose. They haven’t progressed to any degree beyond the point they were at way back when world government was first established on Mother Earth. By the time the League of Planets was formed, everybody took a dim view of further development of arms, and it’s now against the League Canons. I suppose if ever man ran into another intelligent life form in the galaxy, especially an aggressive one, we’d go back to research, but as it is.”
“Laser beam?” the guru said.
“Ummm!” The other tapped the pistol at his hip. “This is the smallest size. It will cut a man or horse in two at a thousand yards. The warrant’s gun, there, triples that range and more. The rifles up on the roof will cut through a spaceship just as easily, and the range is all but infinite. The laser’s by far the superior of any projectile weapon ever devised.”
The guru shuddered and in protest murmured, “My son, my son.”
Marsten shrugged. “If this planet is ever to be developed, we’ve got to curb these bandits. And the only thing they understand is force. They’d rather raid than eat. We’ve got nearly as many soldiers on this planet as there are men in the mines. And if anything, we could use more. Sink a mine shaft, and friend, you’d better have a military post right next to it, or you’ll wake up some morning with all your technicians and laborers dead and everything portable stolen.”
The guru said in puzzlement, “But my son, what is it that motivates you? You come from a far world to thus aid in the pacification of Caledonia. But why? Why do you feel it urgent to do so? The followers of the path of Lord Krishna who came from worlds beyond, I can understand, for verily the word of the final Avatara of Vishnu must be spread. But you have not taken your soma and thee do not proselytize.”
Warrant Venizelou chuckled.
Marsten glared at him in irritation but said to the monk, “Actually, the warrant is right. We’re motivated by personal gain, actually. You see, we come from the planet Sidon. It’s one of the frontier worlds, and the socioeconomic system is free enterprise, each man for himself and the devil take the hindmost.”
“I do not understand, my son.”
Marsten looked at his wrist chronometer. He scowled and said, “That skimmer should be coming in. Warrant, take a look at the detector, focus it on long range.”
Warrant Venizelou left the room, and the sublieutenant looked back at the monk. He returned to his subject. “In a society based on money, guru, if you’re not born with it, then you’d best devote your efforts to acquiring it as quickly as you can, because life can be pretty basic without an adequate supply. I was born with precious little. When the opportunity presented itself to come to Caledonia at triple the usual pay of a soldier and the possibilities of bonuses, I took it.”
The guru was aghast. “But my son, you mean you fight for pay? You harm your fellowman for personal gain? Verily, my son, it is time you took your soma, turned your back on crass materialism and walked the path of Lord Krishna. The sublieutenant sighed. “Yes, I know. However, there is a girl back on Sidon and a business I can buy into. Besides, this planet needs opening up, needs to be civilized, and if I didn’t do it, somebody else would. United Interplanetary Mining has the concessions and so far has been able to satisfy the League authorities that all is legal and aboveboard here on Caledonia.” The sublieutenant chuckled sourly. “It’s fairly easy to convince authorities that are so far away that it takes a year and more to get a message back, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that if a representative ever came through here the fur would fly.”
“I don’t understand, my son.”
Marsten grinned. “The League’s got some pretty rugged rules pertaining to the development of one planet by another, when both are populated. United Interplanetary Mining has a reputation for cutting corners. I don’t really know if the League of Planets is even aware that Sidon military forces are on Caledonia.”
The warrant came back in and said, “I’ve got the skimmer on the detector, sir. I imagine it’ll be in in a matter of minutes.”
The sublieutenant came to his feet. “All right, Warrant. Let’s go. I hope to Krishna they brought a ration of nip. The men are going around the bend in this Krishna forsaken post.”
Warrant Venizelou said, “Yes, sir. However, if they have brought a few bottles, we’re going to have to be sure that we get hinged only two or three at a time. That’s all these raiders need, is for us all to be smashed at once.” The monk trailed along behind them, saying, “I am always fascinated to see one of the vehicles that travels through the air. Verily, the Lord Krishna works miracles beyond belief for you who come from the far stars.” They strolled out to a cleared space that had probably once been the small town’s public square. The sublieutenant was followed by the warrant, the orange robed guru and two of the enlisted men who were off-duty. They stood at the side of the square and stared off into the north.
Shortly a speck appeared and began to grow larger.
The sublieutenant said, “We used to use groundcars, hovercraft, but some of these clansmen are getting slick. Not in this vicinity, as yet, knock on wood. But the Highland Confederation raiders have captured some laser small arms and have flamed down several of our vehicles.”
The guru was shocked. “Caledonian clannsmen using ought but carbines? But that is against the bann by which they live.”
“Yeah,” Venizelou said sourly. “They’re learning fast.”
The approaching skimmer was growing now. It swooped in. hovered for a brief moment above the field, as though checking before descent, and then dropped quickly and settled to rest in the square’s middle. It was a craft of considerable size, quite capable of holding a score of men and their field equipment or an equivalent amount of freight.
The group, started off toward the aircraft, the guru walking diffidently to one side.
An entry port opened in the side of the vehicle, and a uniformed officer in his early middle years stepped forth. The soldiers, headed by the sublieuenant, snapped to the salute.
Marsten said, “At your command, Comet DeRudder.” He turned and indicated the orange clad religious leader. “May I present the Guru David of the town of Nairn?”
DeRudder’s face darkened in a scowl. He stepped closer to the Caledonian monk and stared upward into his face.
He said finally. “It’s been a long time, but I’ve been able to follow your career from a distance.”
He turned to the sublieutenant and snapped, “His name isn’t David, and he isn’t from Nairn. He was born in what was the town of Aberdeen, and his name is John Hawk. He’s also not a guru. He’s Sachem of the Clann Hawk and Supreme Raid Cacique of the Loch Confederation!”
DeRudder spun and shouted at the aircraft, “On the double!”
Chapter Two
But John of the Hawks was upon him.
He threw both arms around the smaller man and carried him flat to the ground.
Even
as he did so, a beam of sizzling light reached out from the roof of the longhouse and, in a sweep, literally cut in two the sublieutenant and his three men. Troopers began to pour from the entry of the skimmer, arms in hand, the last two stumbling as the skycraft began to ascend.
The beam flamed them down and then touched as though with a magic finger the skimmer, which fell back to the ground in two parts and began to burn furiously.
John of the Hawks wrenched from the struggling cornet’s holster the handgun and rolled aside to direct the weapon at the door of the longhouse and the two remaining soldiers who came running forth. He cut them down, before they could bring their own weapons to bear.
All was death in the square now, save for John of the Hawks and Cornet DeRudder, both of whom now came to their feet.
John of the Hawks snapped, “Don’t move!”
From the longhouse came two of his fellow Caledonians, both of them shrugging out of their black robes. Beneath, they wore kilts. One of them contemptuously wiped his skean on the robe before he tossed it away.
When they came up, John snapped, “Quickly, both of you. Into the vehicle of the air before it is entirely consumed. Any weapons, especially, and books or tapes. Throw them out the door. Remain inside searching as long as you can bear the heat.”
The two ducked into the smoking, burning skimmer, and shortly various objects began to be tossed out onto the ground.
The remaining two Caldonians, also now in kilts, rather than black robes, issued from the longhouse and came up.
John said, “All are dead?”
One shrugged. “Why not? They are puny men. In close combat, any clannsman is worth a half dozen of such.”
John of the Hawks said, “Don’t be overconfident, Thomas of the Davidsons. It seldom becomes a matter of close combat with these men from Beyond. They deal their death at great distance.”
He looked at the skimmer, which was beginning now to burn more fiercely. “I had thought to build a signal fire for Don of the Clarkes,” he said. “But it will hardly be necessary. Aüi, their so-called laser rifles are a deadly tool.”
Thomas of the Davidsons looked at the silent, deep breathing Cornet DeRudder. “This is the one for the assembly of the Dail?”
“None else are left. Besides, he is a chief and hence more suitable.” He looked at the dead men. “You had best gather up their weapons. Then return to the longhouse and begin to gather such books and tapes, weapons and charges for the weapons as are here. And also their medicines. But above all, the books and weapons.”
The second of the two clansmen looked at him strangely but turned and followed Thomas of the Davidsons to obey his superior’s orders.
John turned back to DeRudder, even as his other two clannsmen stumbled out of the destroyed skimmer, coughing, their faces flushed from the fire.
One called, “We can do no more, John of the Hawks.”
DeRudder said, “We’d all better get away from the vicinity of the ship. It might go up at any time. Explode.”
John rapped, “Gather up the weapons. Get them away. They are the most valuable things on all Caledonia. They and the books.”
The others followed his command hurriedly, while John and DeRudder made their way to the side of the square.
“So we meet again, Mister of the DeRudders,” John said.
DeRudder, who was obviously shaken by the precipitous actions of the past ten minutes, said, “Mister is a title, something like your sachem or sagamore. My name is Samuel DeRudder, and my rank is cornet, somewhat similar to your rank of raid cacinue.”
“And what has happened to your companions of ten years and more ago? They who first came in the skyship Golden Hind and tried to cozen from us the products of our mines?”
DeRudder looked at him. “Harmon’s, ah, fate, I understand you are familiar with. He showed up at New Sidon and for a time spread the faith of the Shrine of Kalkin—since you stuffed soma down his throat. The skipper of the Golden Hind ? He died several years ago. He wasn’t a young man, and this exploitation of Caledonia didn’t go as quickly as we first hoped it would. Manola Perez? Manola is still with us. He holds down an executive position with United Interplanetary Mining.”
“And you?” John said. “You also hold a position with United Planetary Mining?”
“Yes, of course, and a military position with the Sidonian forces as well.”
A cloud of dust was beginning to manifest itself on the skyline. John looked in that direction, diverting his attention from DeRudder for the moment.
Approximately sixty clannsmen, carbines in hand, came riding up. Leading them was Don of the Clarks. His eyes went around the square, as did those of the whole troop.
“Aüi,” he blurted to John. “All succeeded. I hardly expected it to.”
He looked at the prisoner and scowled in memory. “It is Mister of the DeRudders. Older, but the same.”
The clannsmen were whooping and laughing in exuberation.
John snapped orders. “To the roof. Dismantle those two guns behind the emplacements. Rig litters on horses so that we can carry them. Get all the charges for them they have on hand. Go through the longhouse with care. I want every weapon, every book, all the medicine.”
One of the clannsmen, a sagamore of the Clann Fielding, said, “But we have no spare horses for such plunder as this.”
John looked at him. “We will dismount sufficient men to make room.”
Don said unhappily, “It is a poor place to be dismounted. We can ride two men on a horse. Double up.”
John shook his head at him. “No. We must ride hard, for these posts of the men from Beyond are in continual contact with the forces in New Sidon City. When communication is interrupted, they will send out additional craft to check on the reason. We must get these weapons and the prisoner back to the assembly of the Dail.”
He turned to one of his subchiefs. “Richard, Sagamore of the Coopers, choose twenty men to be dismounted. We need their steeds.”
Richard of the Coopers said blankly, “But what will they do?”
John said, “They can make their way on foot to Nairn and raid the Nairn herds. The whole town is composed of clannless slinks, by now. It will be nothing.”
Richard said, “There are precious few horses left in the Nairn herds.” But he turned to obey the command, calling for volunteers. There were few of these, however. The Caledonian is all but born on horseback and does not walk save in dire necessity. To volunteer for an action meaning certain death, yes; but to volunteer to give up one’s battle steed? No.
DeRudder said, “What are you going to do with me?” His throat was dry.
John looked at him in calculation. “You are the reason for this raid, Samuel, Cornet of the DeRndders.”
“The name is Cornet Samuel DeRudder,” the other said sourly. “What do you mean, I am the reason? Obviously, you never expected to see me when I emerged from the skimmer.”
“The Loch Confederation convenes in its annual Dail. The sachems and caciques wish to speak to a man from Beyond, to send a message to the Dail of the city of New Sidon.”
“There is no Dail of New Sidon City.”
“Whatever then is the equivalent.”
DeRudder looked at the men pouring in and out of the longhouse, laden down with spoil, which they were loading onto the beasts. “However, you don’t seem averse to doing a little looting whilst securing your messenger.”
John didn’t answer him. Instead, he began shrugging out of the orange robe. One of his clannsmen came up, carrying shoes and a belt with sword and skean. The supreme raid cacique sat on a rock, took off the sandals he had worn in his guise as a Shrine of Kalkin monk and replaced them with the shoes.
However, he took the belt, with its sword and dagger, and threw it away, to the ground. He said to DeRudder, “Your sidearm holster, please.” He still carried the other’s laser pistol in his hand.
DeRudder silently unbuckled his belt and handed it over.
John of the Hawks slipped the gun into the holster.
The clannsmen in the vicinity were staring at him.
The one who had brought him his shoes and sword belt offered him a carbine.
John of the Hawks shook his head dourly. “Keep it, if you wish.”
The other stared at him. “But it is your carbine, issued to you when you came to first manhood.”
“No longer.” John patted the handgun he had appropriated from DeRudder. “Not with weapons like this available.” He brought the gun forth again. “See that tree, up the slope?”
He pointed the gun and squeezed the trigger. A beam of light penciled forth and reached for the tree. It missed by a yard or more. He moved the gun infinitesimally, and the beam cut through the tree, toppling it. He released the trigger and looked about at the dozen or so clannsmen who were watching him.
John said, “A man with a carbine would hit the tree, surely enough, but a hundred rounds of cartridges would never cut it down.”
There was a hush.
John looked at the young clannsman who had had custody of his things. “What is that in your belt?”
“Why, my coup stick.”
“Break it. Throw it away.”
“But suppose I have an opportunity to count honorable coup on one of the strangers from Beyond.”
“Kill him instead.”
If possible, the hush deepened. Even Don, Raid Cacique of the Clarks, blinked.
“But… it is not against the bann, but it is unseemly to shed the blood when it is possible to count coup instead.”
“Not with Sidonians. These are not clannsmen, they are clannless ones, and they come from the planet Sidon not in honorable raid, but to strip our world. They know no banns and never count coup. They only kill and kill and kill, and they will do so until there are no clannsmen left on all Caledonia, save only slinks and slaves.”
John returned the gun to its holster and said to Don of the Clarks, “There is another such weapon on the body of the dead sublieutenant over there. I suggest you arm yourself with it.”
His blood companion hesitated. “I’ll… I’ll think about it,” he said. “As you know, such weapons are against the bann.”
The Space Barbarians Page 13