Alien Courage (Rise of the Empress) (44 page)

“Yeah, I think so. Did we serve in the same company,
battalion or something, come to think of it I can‘t remember a damn thing.”

The Administrator motioned with his hand to make sure
Toormis remained quiet and allow him to talk to Peter. “Possibly, we are all military
here. How did you get here?”

“Where’s here?”

“Planet Zion,” replied the Administrator.

“Zion. There’s somewhere I think I know called Zion,
it had lots of snow… at least I think it did,
Peter
said looking upwards trying to remember but his mind was devoid of everything.”

“I don’t have time to stay around here and discuss the
weather with an Earthman. Cassy has been kidnapped and every minute is vital.
I’m leaving, who’s coming with me?” Toormis said and his frustration growing
rapidly.

Peter’s eyes rolled and he felt light on his feet. The
thought that this ‘Cassy’ was in trouble greatly concerned him and the more he
thought about it the lighter he felt. He never realised he was speaking and
thinking in another language nor the sights, sounds and smells of a space
station were anything but familiar. He suddenly stood erect; his eyes bright
and clear and took charge. “Can either of you two use one of these?” He said
holding the flint lock gun out in front. The two men indicated no with the
shake of their heads.

“Well,” Peter said. It will be a quick lesson on the
go. It looks like those fancy weapons you got strapped on don’t work out
there,” he said pointing to the outside. “Gear up for extreme cold, pick skins
that are just a little bigger than you
think
and pack
extra undershirts and furs. You’ll need three powder horns, one hundred round
ball bullets and patches, also two spare flints. There are basic tool kits in
these,” he said holding up a small leather pouch which fits tightly along the
belly belt. “Water sacks are kept inside your jackets and refrain from eating
too much snow during long hard exercise; it’ll make you crave it more and more.
Fill your leather bladders with snow and let your body heat melt it. Dried food
must be around here somewhere, you,” he pointed to the Administrator, “go find
it. It has to be in those sacks around here somewhere. I’ll pick you out a gun.
Now you,” he pointed at Toormis, “who are these people who have Cassy?”

Toormis got swept up with the confidence and
efficiency of Peter. He realised Peter knew what he was doing. “They are
mountain people. They live out there and harvest the local animals,
particularly the eyes of large cats. They demand a high price.”

“OK, why shoot one of their own?”

“I don’t think he was one of theirs. I believe there
are two sets of peoples here as their head dress is different.”

“We need the one I shot to have a look at. We’ll check
him out on the way. Ah, good the dried food,” Peter said as the Administrator
brought over two large sacks. “Come on saddle up,” Peter ordered and assisted
with the dressing of Toormis and the Administrator. He then outfitted himself.
“Who has a compass or knows how to navigate out there?”

“I can with my console,” the Administrator answered.

“I think my remote for my combat computer may work. It
has its own battery and electronic stabiliser beam emitter.” Toormis replied
quickly and was getting more and more agitated with worry over Cassy.

Peter looked at Toormis with comprehension. That
information should have been illegible for him the Administrator realised, but
he seemed to understand. Peter answered with a simple, “right, go and get it.”

“Wait, one thing I need to do first,” Toormis said as
he remembered Traveller down below. “Come with me,” he motioned to Peter and
the Administrator and they went over to the circular stairwell cover and forced
it back down until it closed. With his blaster set correctly Toormis fused the
hinge and blew the control panel off the wall. With help he dragged the huge
skin back over the plate. “There,” he said satisfied. “There is a way to gain
entrance from the outside I noticed on the ship’s visual log.”

Within minutes they were making their way down the
slope and picked up the blood trail of the Warrior Peter shot. They found his
body stripped of all valuables and clothing. “Interesting, they don’t want him
to be recognised by his clothing obviously. Do they raid often?” Peter asked.

“I don’t believe they have ever attacked the Trading
Post before, they are however programmed to attack each other,” Toormis
answered.

“Come again?” Peter said surprised, “Programmed?”

Toormis realised Peter may not understand population
manipulation by controlled conflicts and quickly rephrased his answer. “No, I
meant they have regular conflicts more or less controlled so they don’t totally
wipe each other out.”

“Oh just like the Indians.
Food
stores and women, that sort of thing?”
Peter said without the slightest
clue about why he just said that. He felt confused and started to lose focus.

“Yeah, OK,” Toormis answered not understanding Peter
but now agitated and in a hurry to press on. Peter started to look unsure and
looked around wildly as though he had lost his bearings. The Administrator
noticed this as he was studying Peter all the time and recording it all on his
arm console, he was relieved it still worked in this environment. He recalled
the words of Rotti on Ennack’s workers moon. He quickly brought up the
transcript on his console. Reading it was difficult but he managed to remember
the essence of the data Rotti gave him - beings of similar frequency can get
interlocked, no matter what the distance. 

The Administrator put that theory to the test. He
stood next to Peter and with a serious voice said, “Cassy is in grave danger,
her life will end soon if we don’t hurry.”

Peter immediately focused and pointed, “That way,
let’s go. We have no time to lose,” and with a perfectly fit body moved quickly
through the snow. The three of them easily picked up the trail and pushed
forward. Toormis moved next to the Administrator and whispered, “What did you
do?” He said staring at the sight of Peter forging his way forward with so much
determination.

“I think I know why he speaks fluent Confederate and
takes charge so easily. I don’t understand much about this but I think Johe is
trying to protect his sister.”

“He’s not here…” Toormis suddenly realised what the Administrator
was saying. “Well, I’ll be. How does that make sense? Johe and Peter are in
some manner, mixed up?”

“It looks that way. We better keep a good eye on him.
He may be half pilot and half Earthman. But he only responds as far as I can
make out when danger is present for Cassy. I wish I could talk to Torquay, he’d
know.”

“I think he may be in a lot of trouble. It looked like
a serious blow on the head for an old man. I hope we catch the one that did
that.”

“Yes,” the Administrator strained to answer, the cold
air biting into his lungs. The three pressed on.

Peter suddenly surged ahead and dropped behind a rock.
He motioned behind him for the others to get low. The Administrator and Toormis
dropped into the snow and crawled forward to Peter. They cautiously peered
around the rock and looked at the snow carpeted scene in front of them. The
small tree lined valley narrowed to a distance of about twenty yards and Peter
just stared forward but slowly slid his gun forward and put the butt into his
shoulder. “I want one of you to back up and then come forward and get behind
the closest tree to the right. Make sure you put the tree between you and the
end of that valley. When you get there show yourself for not more than an
instant. Do it now!”

“I’ll go,” Toormis said and backed back and made his
way to the right. He crawled forward in the snow having a lot of trouble
gaining foot purchase but managed to get to the tree quickly. He looked over to
see Peter still aiming his gun up the valley. The Administrator strained his
eyes but couldn’t see anything out there. He looked over to Toormis and
shrugged his shoulders. Toormis quickly stepped out from the behind the tree
exposing himself then casually took a step back behind it.

Peter’s gun roared billowing white smoke. Both the
Administrator and Toormis exchanged looks. They heard no bullet impact except
its noise penetrating through the undergrowth. Peter remained still and then
stood up and called the two men to him. When they arrived he held his gun out
for them to see.

This is the way you load a flint lock gun. If it has
just been recently fired upend the weapon so,” Peter showed them as he
explained, “and blow down the barrel. This clears the flash hole of any fouling
but most importantly extinguishes any glowing residue left in the barrel. To
pour powder down a barrel which has burning embers results in pre ignition and
personal injury. Next, pour a measure of powder from your horn. I will pour it
firstly in my hand to show you the amount.
Any questions?”
Peter said taking his glove off and pouring an amount of powder into his hand.
He placed the powder down the barrel and with drew out the ramrod. “Now, take a
patch and wrap it around a bullet like so. Place the bullet in the barrel and
with the ramrod push the bullet down until it seats on the powder. Do not ram
it excessively. You want only to seat the patched bullet on the powder without
air gaps. Do not crush the powder.” Peter looked at the two men and satisfied
they understood continued.

“Pull the hammer back one click and push the strike
plate forward to expose the pan. Charge the pan with a small amount of powder
like this and pull the strike plate back to its closed position.” Peter went
through the action. “Check the condition of the flint at the same time and
adjust or replace as necessary. Pull the hammer all the way backwards until it
clicks home, the weapon is now ready to fire. Now cock your weapons and aim at
that knotted broken limb on that tree over there and fire.” Both men do so and
valley echoed with the sound of the shots. Both hit their target.

“Good,” Peter said. “Now reload.”

Both Toormis and the Administrator reloaded as though
they had done it all their lives. Peter was impressed and nodded his head.
“Good, do you need any further instruction on any aspect of these weapons or of
shooting them?”

Both men said no.

“Good, because we are now in hostile territory and you
will need to defend yourselves independently. There is a dead enemy forty five
yards to the left front, three trees back in the cover. I will require you to
be alert from now on. He was there to observe us only at this stage, maybe
track us and take us out one at a time or to lead us off the trail or maybe
even frighten us off. Let’s check him out and then proceed with our mission.”

Toormis and the Administrator were stunned beyond
belief when they found forty five yards away in the trees a dead man, shot in
the head. “How did you see him?” asked Toormis, his voice full of amazement.

“He picked a too obvious spot and just couldn’t keep
still.”

The Administrator looked carefully around at
approximately forty yards range and there was no way he would have made out
someone standing behind a tree with half his head exposed wearing a dark fur
hat covered with snow. He recorded it on his console and scanned the area and
the dead man.

Peter stripped the dead man of all valuables. “We must
make it look like someone did this that lives here. From what I can see of
these people their existence is a tough one and anything useful would never be
wasted.” He looked at Toormis, “your name is Toormis right?”

“Yes it is, Toormis replied, and his name is
Drex
or Administrator. Take your pick.”

Peter nodded acknowledgment to the Administrator but
walked up to Toormis and grasped him on the arm and quickly let go. “We will
get Cassy back and kill the man that took her. I need you focused.
She some kind of girlfriend to you?”

Toormis was now very unsure, but quickly took stock of
his circumstances and hastily agreed he had feelings for Cassy but switched his
gun over to his other hand and grabbed Peter by the sleeve. “Who are you?” He
asked firmly. The Administrator’s eyes flickered very quickly.