Outward Borne (27 page)

The cable was as thick as Ebert’s
arm and very old. Wisps of steel had peeled away from the ancient
strands. The coarse wire would strip away your skin if you fell
against it. The two climbed down the swaying rope, using their feet
to keep away from the cable, and dropped onto the flat roof of some
structure. It was a freestanding building, two stories high, very
flimsy. The roof was covered by the dust of centuries; their tracks
were clearly visible. The men were s lowed by curiosity as they
went into the building. Low rumbling sounds came and went, possibly
the Das’ language, they could not tell. The emptiness of the space
was strange, an absence of things that should be there. The walls
were stained brown by the oils rubbed off passing bodies, darkened
over many years, almost no light.

Ebert’s All-1 sounded. UnFel would
help them find their way around the habitat. Ebert hoped to find a
large open space where the Gracks could be brought out into the
open. The narrow corridors were great for defense. It would be easy
to stop a larger force or keep the Gracks at bay in the narrow
corridors, but that was not his objective. They would need to kill
the alien beasts and would need to surround and overwhelm them to
do it.

UnFel directed the humans to an
open area near the center of the complex. The ObLaDas space held an
irregular collection of separate buildings, one to three stories,
many with connecting bridges, but a large rectangular area had been
left clear and was used to fabricate large assemblies. This wide
space was open to the top of the deck where heavy-duty lifts rolled
on tracks, and low-slung dollies could be used to move heavy
equipment and structural units across the floor. It would do, Ebert
decided, if the Gracks could be funneled into this space. UnFel
thought they could, there was a wide passage between it and the
conduit. It would be the natural course to follow.

The People’s strength would be
concentrated on the ObLaDas’ habitat deck. A few would go into the
control level and attempt to block off the exits from the conduit.
If the Gracks attacked that level, they hoped the delay would gain
enough time to move there in force. If all else failed, the ObLaDas
were prepared, UnFel said, to take emergency measures. The ObLaDa
levels could be isolated and opened to the frigid vacuum of space,
or the conduit could once again be set aflame to burn out any
Gracks that remained there. It would damage some of the
instruments, some ObLaDas would die, but they might be able to
survive.

Euric continued down into the
Control deck while Ebert returned to the People’s habitat. He
stripped off his long suit as he walked down the main passage,
shedding the stench that clung to the fabric. He found Godomir
sitting with the injured Magnaric. Others gathered around to hear
what he had decided. Ebert described the habitat, so different from
their own, and the large space they had selected as a battle site.
If they could surround an individual Grack, they might inflict what
small wounds they could and just keep at it until it was worn down.
Simple enough, but dangerous! If the Gracks were too quick, or too
strong, the People might not be able to get in close. We will need
to be fast and persistent, and take advantage of any opportunity no
matter how dangerous, all agreed. The men began to boast among
themselves of how they would act and what blows they would
strike.

Whatever optimism Ebert generated
about fighting within the ObLaDas living quarters was matched by
Euric’s despair. The Control Deck was worse than he feared. He
could only think of defending the place. What little could be done
would never last, he feared. There was only one heavy construction
bot on the deck; the other robots were far too weak to maneuver the
heavy wall panels that he needed to move. He would dismantle some
unimportant structures and use their panels to block off, enclose
the key computer and ship management facilities. The ObLaDas that
were operating the units would be trapped inside. If they were in
luck, the Gracks would not find their way in, but luck was a flimsy
thread on which to hang the fate of all their lives.

It was Achaea, sixteen, slight of
build, her red-blond hair bobbing up from the back of the room. “Do
not forget our archery club,” she called out to Godomir. “We have
practiced a great deal and can be very accurate.” There were
seventeen in the club, mostly older children, as most knew, who had
taken up the pastime as a recent fad.

Godomir was dismissive. “Your bows
are small, and weak, and you have only used target arrows,” he
said. “Hitting a moving animal is much different.”

“
We could make proper arrows,”
Achaea protested, “you have no idea how good we are. We could go
for the eyes, if they have any.” She was determined and made angry
by the rebuke.

There was not
much time. No one had ever been in a fight such as this. They had
no first-hand knowledge of battles, only their ancient history and
stories of bravery, courage, and heroes. All knew of the legends,
many had opinions about tactics, they differed on what they would
achieve, but Godomir heard none of it. With the ObLaDas’ help, they
had some axes and spears. Swords required skills they did not
possess. Shields would be of no help against the powerful
Gracks.
Ragnar worked with the ObLaDas to
establish communications and gather information about the decks
below. Squads had formed up and were getting used to working
together.

Godomir hoped that they would be
able to separate the Gracks and kill them off one at a time. Looris
was doubtful that they would be able to stand against the massive
aliens. But that was for later; now they would make use of all the
support that the ObLaDas could provide, and it was considerable.
The Das had full surveillance of the Gracks and could track their
movements. They would control the lighting and keep the Gracks in
the dark as long as possible. There were a few construction robots
on the habitat level that could be used to move wall panels about
or do whatever might help. As soon as the men were armed and
organized, their units would begin to descend into the ObLaDas
living quarters. It would take hours to get everyone down through
that hole.

Clovic sat in the back of the
room, thinking, no longer listening to the talk. He would not be
allowed in the massed ranks, too young, not strong enough. How
could he help? The dogs perhaps, his friends, even the archery
club? He had seen the floor plan for the fabrication area. There
were surrounding buildings and a maze of passageways around and
through the nearby buildings. He did not know if the Gracks would
try to use them, but they might. He would talk with the older boys
and girls, and figure out how to do it. Clovic gathered Heneric and
Achaea and explained his plan. They would form teams that would
enter the dark buildings and alleys on the outskirts of the battle.
They would get some dogs, not many, small ones, that could be
lowered through the opening, just for warning. They could carry a
rack of bright lights, and if they come onto any Gracks, they could
blind them. They could attack with arrows first and long spears
after that. It might work if they kept to the narrow spaces between
the buildings or the hallways inside. Heneric was strong for
battle-axes. He would carry one of those.

Clovic gave them two hours to eat,
gather weapons and rest before they would meet and practice.
Heneric got together the best-trained dogs, including Gussie of
course. They went out to try his plan. They quickly found that no
more than five people could maneuver in narrow spaces without
causing problems. He placed three archers in the rear, two spears,
and two axes together with one person to control the lights. “Lets
try it,” he argued. “Heneric and I will be Gracks, the dogs may not
give any warning since they know us, but that might happen
anyway.”

With the lights out, they
approached the team as quietly as they could. Clovic could hear
scuffling and knew they were close. As they readied to launch a
surprise charge, the lights flashed on. They were indeed blinded
for a moment, but as the team ran forward to attack, they blocked
the lights and were clearly visible. Clovic called a halt. “We need
to keep the lights in front of the fighters,” he said. “We could
push the lights ahead on long poles perhaps.” After some more
practice, Clovic was satisfied. They had three teams ready for
tomorrow. He told them all to get as much sleep as they could, but
it was already halfway through the night.

Chapter 16 Wages of
Success

The Gracks filed through the
broken walls of their habitat and back into the dark, empty pit.
Durack had no idea what time it was. The lights had gone out and
stayed out. He had been forced to go back to the habitat by the
explosion. There were wounded that needed attention and most would
benefit from some rest. Durack wanted to reconsider the way
forward. The attack had not gone well, he knew that, far too many
had been hurt or killed. He was not sure how it had happened. Why
had a few minutes in an alien habitat all but blinded five of his
troops? How had a few sparks caused so great an explosion and so
hot a fire? They needed to take their time and have care in this
strange place, but they could not wait for long. He had no doubt
that The ObLaDas were gathering their strength and they would be
hard pressed if they succeeded in catching them sitting in their
habitat.

Yacork had taken over for the
injured Kitrak. He went into the People’s deck. It appeared
deserted, as it had before, but he could hear the dogs start
barking as soon as he set a scaly foot on the deck. This time they
were all inside the habitat, but they would be ready if he tried to
attack. There was no change of that. If they stayed within their
walls, they would leave them be, at least for now. Yacork beckoned
them back, they would move lower.

Godomir and Ragnar stood before
the door and watched the Gracks move around the outside of their
habitat. It was twelve long hours since Magnaric and his men had
returned. They now had about fifty People stationed near the entry
to the complex. Tonbert had brought the great dogs and hounds, all
but two. The two that had bitten the Gracks had sickened. The dogs
knew something important was happening and were milling around the
tall doors. The Gracks could break through the habitat walls at
will, so the People would use the entry as a sally port and rush
out at them should they start to break in. So far, only a few of
the big aliens had climbed out of the conduit onto their deck. They
were poorly armed with nothing more than short clubs, pieces of
broken pipe really. That was a good sign.

“
They are not going to attack us,”
Ragnar concluded. “There are not enough of them.” He was right.
After scouting around the perimeter of the habitat and the
remainder of the deck, the Gracks again disappeared into the
conduit. “They will bypass us this time. We have shown ourselves to
be too weak to bother with. I hope that is not true.”

Durack had already moved into the
second level, so Yacork continued to the bottom. The lift doors had
been closed, but they had forced a small opening, enough to see
that it was dark and quiet, possibly abandoned, but he could not
tell. It was a very open space, from what he could see. They were
not there to smash empty buildings, but to kill whatever occupied
the place, so there was nothing to do until he had a larger band to
work with. He left two fighters on lookout and went to join his
leader.

Durack led his eleven fighters
into the ObLaDa’s living quarters to meet whatever was there. They
could hear people moving about, equipment was being clattered
about, even fighting practice, but it was completely dark. The
Gracks lit their torches and swept them about. Durack was surprised
that the area was so open, without walls or any attempt at
protection. He sent six brutes through the nearby buildings with
strict orders to remain in contact with each other. He expected an
ambush and wanted all the fighters to be in position to support
each other. They moved farther into the habitat, finding no one,
still they were deliberate, smashing away in their anger at
whatever was movable or that looked important. Progress was slow,
but Durack was satisfied that he had finally gained some
control.

The ObLaDa complex was a maze, all
the walls and corners were the same bland light gray, with
nondescript boxy buildings everywhere, no markings or
distinguishing features to tell one place from another, only
dirt-streaked walls and slimy floors. The corridors were unusually
dark, not even warning lights or equipment sensors were lit. The
Gracks were forced to move around with flickering torches and
little idea of where they were, but the passageways gradually
converged on the fabrication yard and when they got close, he could
see a light in the distance. It was the first open space he had
found so far.

The floor had been cleared. The
heavy flatbed trucks now hung from the overhead cranes high in the
darkness above. Most of the construction materials had been pushed
to the side or piled in the narrow spaces between buildings. All
the Gracks gathered around Durack and stood looking into the yard.
They had a clear view of the prepared battleground, something they
were used to, not empty rooms deserted by an enemy who would not
fight.

The Das had placed a series of
tall wedge-shaped barriers across the long length of the enclosure.
Durack could see movement beyond those barriers, but it was too
dark to make out who or what it was. The barriers were clearly
intended to break up any massed charge. The Gracks could not simply
line up and walk across the room to push aside those beings. The
area was too wide in any case, Durack thought. He moved forward,
slowly, a short distance into the yard, whatever was moving around
behind the obstacles looked small and frightened.