Rebellion (17 page)

Even as Hathor glanced that way, heavy face plates retracted to reveal the launching decks and the firing slits for the blaster batteries. The battleship seemed the grimly purposeful artifact it had been in the days of the First Time-at least from the outside. As Hathor prepared for liftoff, a pair of udajeets launched. The graceful, rakishly designed antigravity gliders had the sharply curved wings of a striking falcon.

The white wings even had stylized pinions picked out in gold. The atmospheric craft banked into a sharp turn, shrinking in the distance as they set off on a strafing run down one of the empty boulevards of the dead metropolis. Hathor could see only the flash of the twin blast-cannons as a twinkle in the distance. But from experience she knew the destruction that must be raining on the underbrush now clogging the empty streets. As if in imitation of the passing fliers, Hathor activated her own craft's lifting drive. A deceptively gentle radiance bathed the top of the docking station as the shuttle rose. But the lichen blackened and died about a sixth of the way down from the top.

The shuttle moved with all the speed and flair of an elevator-definitely a case of "slow and steady wins the race." But it was the only means of admission to Ra's planetoid palace. The head god's paranoid search for security had placed the Tuat StarGate on the planet's surface. He'd even banned the short-range matter transmitters from the palace. So, if one wished to visit Tuat-the-moon, one came by way of slow, tubby, easily scanned shuttles. The damned things didn't even have the room to transport a decent STRIKE team. The shuttle's slow rise had taken it about fifty feet above the docking station when another pair of uda fleets launched. Too bad they were atmosphere craft, without the range to reach the moonlet. Hathor smiled. Now, there would be the means for an impressive entrance. She'd have to talk to Ptah about supercharging one of the gliders. The udajeets streaked straight for the shuttle, spreading out slightly to bracket it. Hathor's smile grew broader with reminiscence. Hot pilots were still the same, always ready to pull a stunt. Besides, she knew these two. The second-wave udajeets came from her own faction, her first followers. The gliders had passed almost before Hathor realized they'd fired on her. Her shuttle yawed as blast-bolts tore at its golden fabric. The slowmoving, wobbling craft had only doubled its altitude as the udajeets banked around for a second pass. Hathor thrust out a hand, running it over a newly installed panel.

Control surfaces glowed to life. With a lifetime's facility she controlled the shuttle's lift with one hand while setting up parameters with the other. A large red dot appeared on her navigation image. The udajeets were almost on top of her again. With their frail, airy construction they looked like a pair of butterflies attacking a brick.

But they could wheel and fire, wheel and fire, while the brick was trapped on a single, slow-moving course. Sooner or later the attackers would hit something vital, and the brick would fall and crash. Unless

... The udajeets were firing. Hathor moved her left hand over a large, glowing control surface. The red dot on her nav display followed her hand's movement. The dot touched one of the udajeets, moved ahead of it Hathor brought down her finger on the glassy plate. Bolts of blaster fire ripped from each apex of the pyramid. THREE blasts struck the glider she'd targeted. The more aerodynamic but flimsier craft came apart like a butterfly with its wings torn off. The other fighter flashed past, banked ... and hesitated before coming around for another attack. They were much higher now, nearly at the limit of the atmosphere craft's performance range. If the warrior didn't score a crucial hit, Hathor would get away. But the shuttle was quaking as it flew. One more hit could mean a long, fatal fall. Still, the attacking pilot hesitated as he came around. Hathor's right hand flew across the flight controls, svanging the shuttle at right angles to its upward trajectory. Without the lift of the drive, the pyramidal vessel flew about as well as a cobblestone. Hathor lurched as the shuttle pushed slightly forward-and very quickly down. But Hathor had aimed the craft so her attacker would have to pass the fields of fire of all five of her blasters. The udajeet came on, committed to its attack. Twin blasters flashed under the rakish wings. Five blasters lashed out from each corner of Hathor's craft. The shuttle staggered again as a hole was torn in its nose. The udajeet shattered as five bolts concentrated on its pilot's cabin. Hathor fought her half-crippled craft, bringing it around so the drive surfaces pointed toward the planet again, engaging maximum lift, stopping her plummeting descent just in time. Throughout that struggle a grim smile curved her lips. She hadn't been able to get Ptah to increase the performance of the shuttles. But he had made sure her personal craft was armed. Using the matter transporter inside the stone pyramid, Hathor transferred directly to the bridge on Rha's Eye. Ptah stood at the captain's place. Hathor noticed that all of his technician crew people carried blast-lances. "Mutiny or assassination attempt?" she asked her erstwhile husband. Ptah's mechanical shoulder rose in a shrug.

"We're not completely sure yet, but the latter appears more likely. Most of our warrior complement seems shocked at the attack on you. They've been disarmed, and the udajeets have stood down. First flight was ordered to land." "I wondered why no one was flying to my aid," Hathor said pointedly. Ptah's waxy flesh looked as hard as his metal side. "No one was flying until I was sure they wouldn't be attacking you, too."

His mechanical shoulder rose again. "Besides, I knew you could handle two udajeets with the equipment you had. And I was proven correct." "I suppose we should be glad that the assassins weren't in Gunnery," Hathor finally said. "Those pilots-they were from my faction, weren't they?"

"Perhaps the better description is that they were from the late Sebek's faction," Ptah said. "Although they had seemed quite devoted to your cause." "We'll have to hope the rest of the warriors Will follow me."

Hathor turned to the navigation officer. "Lift us. We're heading for Tuat-the-moon. I want a continuous scan on the palace's defensive batteries. If they give a hint of energizing, I want Gunnery to blow them away." The marble walls of the central palace dome were scarred and spalled from repeated exchanges of blast-bolts. The pile of furniture at one end of the hall-including a golden throne-marked the position of the last rebels. Hathor watched a holographic image from one of Ptah's spy-eyes as one of her squad of Horus guards-recruited from THREE

separate factions-brought his blast-lance to bear from around a corner and fired. The bolt of energy slashed through the makeshift barrier and caught one of the rebel guardsmen in the chest. "One down, five electives left," she counted. "And the two leaders in the chamber beyondwith Thoth." "I can't show you what's transpiring in there," Ptah apologized. "They've destroyed my observation modules." "I'm surprised they haven't tried the hostage gambit," Hathor said. "Not with your reputation," her one-time husband pointed out. He frowned. "You're sure you want to go alone?" She nodded grimly. "At this point I'm unwilling to have anyone at my back." The attempted coup had recruited a surprising range of support because it had proceeded not in the name of Apis, the ringleader, but of Ra. "Who'd have imagined the Bull could be so clever? Hathor thought. He tapped into the anger against me as an usurper-rebuildingwhat Ra had decommissioned. And, of course, all of us have a lively fear of how Ra would react if he did return. She had left Troth as master of the palace for the duration of the test voyage. And it was only her unexpectedly quick return that had foiled the plotters.

They had only begun, seizing Thoth and the palace armory, when Ra's Eye had reappeared in the system. The assassins aboard the battleship had been forced to rush. And there was still too much resistance to the coup on Tuat-the-moon. The conspirators hadn't even gotten close to the defense batteries. With Hathor's return the putsch died-as did many of Apis's followers. Now only this bare handful remained, trapped.

Ironically, Ptah reported that the seemingly deadend chamber where the leaders had taken sanctuary actually connected with a secret passage he'd built for Ra. Hathor proposed to use the hidden entrance in an attempt to save Thoth. "You could just as easily send a squad of guards," Ptah protested. "Thoth is the one who revived me-I owe him my best effort," Hathor replied. Grudgingly, Ptah showed her the nearest entrance. The secret way was dimly lit and surprisingly clean-in better shape, say, than the shuttle docking facilities. Moving quietly, Hathor reached the panel which Ptah had assured her led to Apis's last redoubt.

She stepped back, arming her blast-lance. Her first bolt blew in the secret entrance. The second took off Apis's head, blowing his bull mask-and its contents-halfway across the room. The other occupant was a muscular man who still wore the side-lock of youth. The dye on the Eye of Ra tattooed around the young man's own right eye was still raw, He'd just recently entered the warrior caste, and had risen to the rank of god commandeer quite quickly. Hathor knew his face. She had promoted him to take Sebek's place when she had taken over the crocodile god's faction. The new Sebek was good-he had his own blast-lance armed and aimed at her chest. But Hathor had both aimed and triggered her weapon.

Sebek went down, his midsection charred, cooked meat. He sank to the marble floor, still alive as Hathor kicked his weapon from his nerveless hands. She knocked her appointee flat. His eyes were glazed but still conscious as Hathor aimed her blast-lance at his face. "Thoth!" she called. Sebek's eyes trailed off to his right. Hathor turned. Thoth lay cold and stark on the floor. Several blaster burns had seared his body, wounds which hadn't been treated. There were also marks of torture, as if the plotters had tried to force him to come in on their coup. Thoth had been unconscious when they'd finished him off. The top of his head was simply gone. It was the easiest way to deny the rescue of Ra's sarcophagus. Humans might be easily repaired. But even Ra's technology could not rebuild a brain from scratch. Hathor's lips skinned over her teeth in a rictus as she returned to Sebek. His eyes met hers in terror as she positioned her blast-lance over his head. Hathor triggered her weapon, then triggered it again and yet again. By the time she was finished, not only was Sebek's head gone, there was a bowl-sized depression in the marble floor receiving the thin trickle of blood from the nearly cauterized stump of his neck. Hathor then went to kneel by Thoth, closing his bulging, distorted eyes. If she had been one to heed omens, this would definitely be a bad one. The revolt was definitely over. Hathor had appeared from the sanctum chamber of the coup leaders to take the last rebel guardsmen from behind. But the Cat's face was not happy as she rejoined Ptah.

repairs you can to Ra's Eye," she said. "Then I set "You have two days to do whatever additional off for Abydos. We can't stand any more incertitude about Ra's fate. It seems I daren't leave for fear of revolt. Yet I daren't stay for the same reason. When I know how the situation standswhether we need a successor-then I will know how the deal with the others." She stepped up to Ptah. "I name you master of the palace in my absence. May you succeed better than my last nominee."

"Speaking of nominees, shall I name a new Sebek?" Ptah asked lightly.

Hathor stared into his eyes. "You can do as you will," she said.

"Always bearing in mind that I will come back." In two days, losses among the crew had been fleshed out and the troublesome circuits on Ra's Eye replaced. Surrounded by a full retinue of guards, Hathor marched through the docking station to board her ship. But someone stood waiting at the end of a hall attached to one of the ship's internal airlocks. Hathor gestured for the guards to stop and stepped out of the open box they formed. Standing by the lock was the ghastly machine-human parody who had once been her husband. "What are you doing here?" Hathor asked. The waxy-pale flesh side of Ptah's mouth turned up in a grin. "The last time you set off from Tuat, I was notable for my absence," he said. "I thought this time I'd be notable for my presence." He raised his human arm. "Merely to wish you farewell-and good luck." Hathor nodded, then continued onward. Beyond the hall the ship's heavy airlock door closed and cycled. And even as the docking station shook from the force of liftoff from Ra's Eye, Ptah held his place, still smiling his eerie half smile.

Jack O'Neil stretched out as best he could, considering the narrow confines of his camp cot. If his sleeping arrangements were on the small side, the tent he was sharing was more cramped still. A far cry from his quarters as head officer on Abydos. At least he had some friendly company. When Adam Kawalsky had realized his old commander was out of a tent as well as a post, he'd offered his own billet. "With all the people they're pouring in here, I'll have to double up anyway,"

Kawalsky said. "And, begging the colonel's pardon, I'd rather have you than some snot-nosed Army firstloot right out of the Point. Half of Keogh's officers look like teenagers." "It's the security angle," O'Neil said sourly. "West is getting people right out of training because they've been vetted pretty thoroughly-and they don't have any connections in the service. Less chance of any of these guys getting drunk with his buddies and leaking info on this operation." Kawalsky frowned. "Yeah, but if the cow flop hits the fan . . ." O'Neil just shrugged. "We'll just have to hope these boy soldiers will treat it as a training exercise with live fire." The colonel's mood was not as flippant as his words. Most of Keogh's command were troops one step up from raw recruits. If trouble really erupted here on Abydos, the Army brats would be facing Skaara's boy commandos. They'd balance out pretty even in terms of training-and Skaara's boys had some combat experience, albeit brief. The Abydans would weigh up way short on the technology front, but Skaara and his followers had proven themselves very resourceful at getting weapons. No, the deciding force in any armed confrontation would be the original nucleus of the Abydos expeditionary force-the combat Marines commanded by Jack O'Neil. The colonel glanced at his lanky lieutenant. How would Kawalsky feel about fighting his recent comrades-in-arms? O'Neil shifted uneasily on his bunk. Hell, he didn't even know how he felt about it. " so, " he said aloud, "how are you and Feretti settling in over in Supplies?" "It's like we've died and gone to hell," Kawalsky replied promptly. "Just from looking around and counting heads, I figure we've got maybe THREE battalions here. From the supply picture you'd think we were trying to equip D-Day." O'Neil grinned. "Remember what Napoleon said about armies traveling on their stomachs." Kawalsky gave a disgusted grunt. "That's the only way our boys could move if they had to carry all the crap we're stockpiling."