Conquerors' Legacy (12 page)

Which meant it was up to her. Pressing her tongue against the side of her mouth, fighting a sudden wave of nausea, she got to her knees and crawled across the floor toward the warriors.
Tbv-ohnor's tail had begun a sluggish undulation by the time she reached the nearest laser rifle. Getting a grip on the shoulder brace, she hauled it over to her, wondering uneasily whether her limited experience with handheld stingers would be any help in handling the vastly more powerful warrior weapon. Picking it up, she climbed to her feet and stumbled to the entrance.
And froze. There, not twenty strides away, a line of eight Human-Conquerors stood or knelt in their camouflage clothing. Their weapons pointing straight at her.
"Pull up, Vanbrugh!" Holloway barked into his comm as the laser beam raked across the Corvine's underside. "Pull up, damn it!"
"He can't," Takara bit out, waving a fist toward the display as the Corvine twisted violently to the right.
He was right, Holloway knew, watching helplessly as the Corvine slid even farther to the side. It was done for, with bare seconds left before either the enemy laser sliced it open or else it crashed onto the forest floor. He cringed in anticipation, wondering why Vanbrugh and Hodgson didn't eject; realized an instant later that they had neither the time nor the altitude left to do so. They were going to die out there. Violently, uselessly, they were going to die.
"Look!" Takara said suddenly, jolting Holloway out of his horrified fascination with the doomed Copperheads. "Bethmann's coming back."
Holloway swore. Bethmann was coming back, all right. The second Corvine had veered around in a tight curve and was blazing full throttle back toward Vanbrugh's crippled fighter and the laser attacking it. Recklessly flying back into danger- "Bethmann, get out of there," Holloway snapped into the comm. "You can't help them now."
There was no answer... but even as Holloway started to repeat the order, he saw it was too late. The heavy laser had flicked away from the crippled Corvine, relinquishing the chance for a direct kill in order to deal with this new threat bearing down on it. Helplessly, Holloway watched as the brilliant beam came on again, grazing the flank of Bethmann's approaching fighter.
And then, abruptly, the Corvine's nose pitched violently upward, the movement all but killing its forward momentum. The laser swung wide, its operators caught off guard by the maneuver. For a split second the aircraft seemed to stand on its tail in midair, its underside blatantly exposed to the enemy. The beam checked its movement, tracked back toward its target-
And in a burst of Icefire the Corvine vanished.
"What the hell?" Takara said, blinking. "Where did it go?"
"It went up, sir," Crane said, sounding more than a little stunned himself. "Just straight up."
"Track him," Holloway ordered.
Crane keyed his board, and the monitor view pulled back and swung upward. Sure enough, there was Bethmann's Corvine, halfway to the stratosphere and just starting to curve over the top of his arc. "Incredible," Takara said. "There's a solid year's worth of dumb luck shot all to hell."
"I don't think there was any luck to it at all," Holloway said, a sudden suspicion striking him. "Crane, see if you can locate Vanbrugh's Corvine."
"Yes, sir." The monitor screen split, bringing up a second image....
Takara whistled softly. "I'll be damned."
Holloway nodded silently. Vanbrugh's damaged Corvine, not looking nearly as crippled now as it had when Bethmann had come charging to the rescue, was flying low across the Dorcas landscape, racing back toward the relative safety of the mountains.
"It was a diversion," Takara said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Vanbrugh couldn't slide out of firing range fast enough, so Bethmann charged in to draw the heat away from him."
"And got the enemy to split his attention just long enough for both of them to get away," Holloway said, a shiver running up his back. A maneuver improvised on the spot, its details communicated between the two crews, its execution handled with exquisite timing and coordination. All of it accomplished in perhaps half a dozen seconds.
A few years back, when Lord Stewart Cavanagh and Commander Adam Quinn had raised the issue of improper Copperhead cadet screening, there had been long and heated debates throughout the Commonwealth as to whether the Copperheads were even worth all this effort and money. As a good Peacekeeper officer, Holloway had of course stood solidly behind the Copperheads in his own discussions with civilian friends and relatives. Privately, though, he would have had to admit that he really didn't understand why Peacekeeper Command was so adamant on keeping the unit.
He did now.
His hand was still squeezing the comm tightly. Easing his grip, he clicked it on. "Vanbrugh, this is Holloway."
"Marlowe, Colonel," the voice of Bethmann's tail man came back promptly. "Vanbrugh can't respond-their main comm system's been damaged. Copperhead laser link's still working, though."
"What's their situation?"
"Bad, but not critical," Marlowe said. "They've lost some maneuvering ability and about half their targeting equipment. Still flyable, but they'll need some patchwork before they're ready for full combat again."
Holloway and Takara exchanged glances. Their supply stockpile was barely adequate to maintain the Peacekeeper unit and the twenty-five thousand civilians bivouacked behind them in the mountains. Their chances of having replacement parts for a Corvine fighter on hand were well-nigh nonexistent. "Understood," he said. "What about you?"
"We lost a little paint, but nothing serious," Marlowe assured him. "All major systems are up and humming, and we're ready to go burn some backside."
"Stand by." Holloway shifted his attention to Crane. "Strike-force status?"
"They're on the ground, sir," Crane said. "Duggen reports they're moving toward the target zone; getting some enemy fire and returning it, but at this point both sides seem to be shooting blind. They have no air cover, though-the aircars had to pull back when that ground laser opened up."
"I see," Holloway said, chewing that one over. On the one hand, with one Corvine already damaged, the last thing he wanted was to lose any more of their already inadequate air power. But on the other hand, the aircars' unauthorized withdrawal from the scene meant that Sergeant Duggen's strike force was completely open to an attack by the Zhirrzh copters. And if the Zhirrzh commander hadn't realized that yet, he would soon.
And they couldn't abandon the tectonic station to the enemy. Which left him exactly one option. "Marlowe?"
"Sir?"
"You think you and Bethmann can take out that ground laser station by yourselves?" Holloway asked. "Without losing more than paint in the process, I mean?"
"Piece of pie, Colonel," Bethmann cut in. "Just give the word."
"Consider it given," Holloway said. "But watch yourselves."
"Acknowledged. Copperheads out."
The radio went silent. "You think they can do it?" Takara asked.
"If that's the only surprise the Zhirrzh have planned, I'm sure they can," Holloway said. "My only worry is that there might be another half-dozen ground stations stashed around that we don't know about. How in hell did they manage to set that one up without our seeing them do it?"
"Sir, we may have an answer to that," Crane spoke up. "Gasperi's done a quick analysis of the spotter tapes, and he thinks the laser was that belly payload we saw one of the copters carrying. He set it down before they all scattered back home."
"Tricky," Takara said. "Speaking of copters, it looks like they're regrouping."
He was right. Regrouping and shifting direction, and a moment later heading back north toward Duggen's strike force.
"Terrific," Holloway growled, searching the monitor for Bethmann's Corvine. The fighter was still cruising across the sky, a couple of klicks above the ground and nearly five klicks northwest of the target zone. "Bethmann, whatever you're planning, you'd better get to it," he warned. "The copters are on the move."
"We see them, Colonel," Marlowe said. "Just keep your aircars out of the area. And warn the ground troops to brace themselves for one hell of a shock wave."
"Relay that, Crane," Holloway ordered, frowning at the monitor. What did the Copperheads have in mind...?
And then, even as Crane spoke softly into his microphone, the Corvine rolled almost lazily onto its back and abruptly dropped nose first toward the ground.
"Cass-!" Takara gasped.
"Easy, Fuji," Holloway said, mentally crossing his fingers and hoping fervently the dive was planned and not the result of some sudden malfunction. The Corvine continued its plunge, building up incredible speed; and then, just when it seemed a crash was inevitable, its nose pulled up and it leveled into horizontal flight. An instant later it was burning through the air at nearly Mach 2 toward the Zhirrzh laser installation.
Flyingbelow treetop level.
The diversionary maneuver a few minutes earlier had been impressive. This one literally took Holloway's breath away. Flying just over the tops of the shorter trees, corkscrewing deftly between the tops of the taller ones, the Corvine was only sporadically visible even to the Peacekeeper spotters. To the lower-flying Zhirrzh copters, it would be all but invisible. The Zhirrzh at the laser would never even see it coming.
Five seconds to go. Holloway hoped Duggen's strike force had gotten the word to go flat.
And then, suddenly, a small but brilliant fireball bloomed in the forest. Half a second later the Corvine reappeared, climbing into clear air again and curving hard around back toward the incoming copters.
Takara shouted something in Japanese. "They did it!"
"Crane, get the aircars back in the area," Holloway ordered. "Form up to support the Corvine-I want those copters warned away. Then get me a status check on the strike team."
"Yes, sir."
The monitor area's mess table was a few steps away, sparsely stocked with local fruit, Peacekeeper field meal bars, and drink carafes. Holloway walked over to it, stretching tired leg muscles, and pulled himself a steaming mug of tea. "You think it's over?" Takara asked, coming up beside him.
"I suppose that depends on how badly the Zhirrzh want a fight," Holloway told him, adding a few precious drops of lemon.
For a moment Takara was silent. "You really think it's in there?" he asked quietly.
"What?" Holloway asked, taking a sip of the hot liquid and turning around to look at the monitor. Nothing had changed: the Zhirrzh copters were still there, and the Corvine was still drawing the equivalent of an imaginary line in front of them. So far they hadn't taken the dare to cross it.
"You know," Takara said. "A CIRCE component."
Holloway looked at him, his stomach tightening. "Is it that obvious?"
Takara shrugged. "Probably not to anyone else. I just happen to know you better than most of the others. You wouldn't risk your people like this unless the stakes were astronomically high. There's not much on Dorcas that comes under that heading. At least nothingI know about."
Holloway looked back at the monitor. "I don't know anything either, at least not for certain. There were never any official disclosures or even unofficial hints-it was Dr. Cavanagh, actually, who got me thinking this direction. But the longer this war drags on without CIRCE making a grand entrance, the more I wonder if maybe we really are sitting on a piece of it."
Takara grunted. "Let's just hope the Zhirrzh don't get hold of it," he said grimly. "If they do, we might as well start calling them the Conquerors again."
"Yes," Holloway said. But even as he envisioned those invulnerable Zhirrzh warships armed with CIRCE weapons, the face of Melinda Cavanagh floated into view. Her earnest, serious expression as she'd relayed that Zhirrzh ghost's opinion that this war was a mistake...
"Colonel?" Crane called excitedly, half turning in his seat. "The outriders have reached the target. Looks like Duggen's got the drop on them."
"Get me a picture," Holloway ordered as he and Takara hurried back to their places. A moment later the image came up.
Holloway leaned forward, resting his mug on the back of Crane's chair. It was the entrance to the tectonic station, all right-he'd been there once and remembered what the place looked like. The outer door had been opened and swung wide, and he could just make out some figures inside the darkened entryway. "Can you enhance it?"
"Yes, sir." Crane worked his board, lightening and sharpening the view.
Takara whistled. "That's not getting the drop on them, Crane. That's a full-fledged thud."
"A thud and a half," Holloway agreed. A group of Zhirrzh-the whole contingent, it looked like-were lying unmoving in the front of the entryway. Stunned or dead.
He clicked his comm onto Duggen's channel. "Duggen, this is Holloway," he said. "Looks like you've got a clear path."
"Already on it, Colonel," Duggen's voice came back. "Squad One: pincer in. Outriders, stay sharp-we don't know how fast they can recover."
And as if on cue, the alien farthest back in the entryway cautiously lifted his head. For a moment he peered toward the doorway, apparently assessing the situation. Then, keeping low, he began slinking toward the door. "Duggen, you've got movement," Holloway said.
"I see it," Duggen said. "Outriders, stand ready; Squad One, hustle it to backup. You got a choice here, Colonel: you want a prisoner or a cadaver?"
"Prisoner, if possible," Holloway said. "But don't lose anyone in the process."
"No problem," Duggen said. "I doubt they've got much fight left in them."
The alien was still moving, and now Holloway could see involuntary-looking twitches in some of the others. "Looks like they're all starting to come to," Holloway warned.
"Squad Two's just about here," Duggen replied. "Soon as they're in backup, we'll move in."
Holloway bit at the inside of his cheek. They'd saved the tectonic station-at least for the moment-and in another minute they'd have some prisoners. Bargaining chips, if the Zhirrzh understood such things. Maybe even a way to corroborate this ghost/Elder thing of Melinda's.
And then the alien reached down and picked up one of the laser weapons.
At the edges of the monitor screen the muzzle ends of two Oberon assault guns appeared as the Peacekeeper outriders within camera range drew a bead on the enemy soldier. "So much for their not having any fight left," Takara said.
Holloway didn't answer. A word from him-a couple of bursts from those Oberons-and that would end it. The Peacekeepers could take the time to well and properly seal the tectonic station, and this potential threat to a possible CIRCE component would be finished. Certainly enough humans had died already in this war; and if Melinda was right, the aliens probably wouldn't take another six or seven Zhirrzh deaths all that seriously.