WARP world (66 page)

“Theorist?” Shan asked, as she picked her way over an unconscious body and up the ladder to Seg’s side.

“You’re flying. This fellow is leaving. Now.” He directed the last word to the pilot, who remained seated. He pulled off his helmet. “Fismar! Up here!”

Fismar hobbled up the ladder. “What’s going on, Theorist?”

“Two matters. One, the pilot is leaving. If he does not,” Seg looked at the pilot again, “bend him. Two, you’re co-piloting.”

Fismar looked between the pair, then shrugged and looked at the pilot. “Bend or cut? I’m in the mood for cut.”

The pilot huffed as he unlatched his harness and climbed out. “I’ll be reporting this to the MRRC,” he said, and bulled his way past Seg. He was barely out of the seat before Shan took his spot.

“Destination, boss?” she asked Seg, as she clipped herself in.

Seg stopped, his mouth halfway open as his eyes stared straight out of the cockpit. Then he burst into motion, patting his pockets, as he searched for the digifilm where he had stored the prison coordinates.

“Karg,” he muttered, as Fismar clambered past and flopped down in the co-pilot’s seat. The trooper collected a flight helmet and put it to the side, then strapped in.

“Right breast pocket,” Fismar said, over his shoulder, to Seg.

Seg opened the pocket and reached inside. “Yes, how did—”

“I pay attention,” Fismar said, and held out his hand. He whistled at the bloodstained film Seg passed him. “Good thing we build ’em rugged,” he said as he connected the film to the onboard system. Seg leaned past him to extract the pertinent file, scrolling through the menu.

“There,” he said. “You two have a right to know what’s going on. We will be extracting an Outer from this prison, with the assistance of native troops who are boarding now.”

Fismar pivoted in his seat. “You’re beyond unortho, you’re kargin’ crazy,” he said and gave Seg a speculative look.

“Problem?” Seg asked.

Fismar laughed. “Nah, last fight was too easy anyway. Figure now you’re springing the hard one on us.”

Ama whistled up to Seg, “They’re here.” She pointed to the back of the craft where a group of Kenda men stood outside the entry ramp, staring. Brin was at the head of the procession, Viren on one side of him, Ama’s brothers, Geras and Thuy, on the other.

“I’ll get the passengers secured,” Seg said. He made his way back down the ladder, slowly and carefully, and limped over to Brin. They clasped hands briefly.

“We are not quite fifty yet,” Brin said, “but we’ll fight like a hundred.”

“As I’ve seen,” Seg replied. He nodded to Viren, then looked at Geras.

Though his dislike for Seg shone plainly on his face, like all the rest, Geras was awed by the ship in front of him. What was also obvious on his face was a lack of sleep. Not just one night but several.

“You’ll take us to the Secat?” Geras asked, one hand tight around the seft at his side.

“Yes,” Seg said. “Now, everyone get into seats and I’ll show you how to strap in. You’ll stay in the seats until we’re on the ground again unless I tell you otherwise. My intent is to put us down right in the middle of the prison after softening it a bit. Once we hit ground, be ready to get out, fight, storm the facility and get our man out. Any questions?”

“Yes,” Viren raised his hand, “are you going to give another speech about the gods? That last one was really…moving.”

Seg turned toward Viren, anger darkening his face. He glared for a long moment, before the quizzical impishness of the other man broke his temper. He coughed out a laugh and shook his head. “We don’t need the gods. We are the gods. Now sit down.”

Brin stepped inside the gunship and ushered the other men in. Some, like Viren and Thuy, entered eagerly, many hung back, unsure.

“It’s not magic,” Ama called out to the men. At the sight of her exposed dathe, a murmur arose and the wary stragglers filed in, nodding respectively as they passed by. She worked with Seg to get the men secured in their harnesses. When she came to Geras, he grabbed her hand and squeezed. What passed between their eyes was not quite a mutual apology, but close enough.

When everyone was seated, Ama took her own seat and nodded to Seg. “Ready.”

He jerked his head toward the cockpit before he climbed back up the ladder and settled into the seat behind Shan and Fismar. “Fismar, you can determine the best entry approach. I want the defenses suppressed, then put us right in the middle of the facility. These men here are infighters, let them get close enough to get a grip on the opposition.”

Fismar glanced over at Shan. “You up to a shoot-pass?”

“I don’t know,” Shan said, “you capable of holding your own dick when you piss?” She slapped the visor down on the helmet and hit the fans, thrusting the gunship skyward.

Fismar gripped edges of his seat at the sudden acceleration. “This ain’t a test flight, you know.”

“Welcome to the real military, sand-stomper,” Shan answered, with a grin.

Seg listened to the two bicker, over his comm, as he shifted back in his seat. He let his eyes close for just a moment, and drifted off to a loud, discordant, vibrating nap.

There were no windows in the back of the gunship, and no way for Ama to communicate with the men, which made for an uneasy ride for most of the Kenda. A few of the men threw up, most gripped their harnesses, Viren broke into peals of laughter with every turn or drop. It was with no small measure of relief that Ama greeted Shan’s announcement that they were arriving at the Secat. Though she could tell, even in the dim light, none of her fellow fighters could believe the trip from Alisir to the Banks could be made so quickly.

At the sound of Shan’s voice, Seg woke from his uneasy sleep.

Fismar looked out the cockpit at the approaching fortress, “Perimeter wall, four watchtowers, guard barracks at the west end, prisoner cell blocks in those two long buildings at the east end, administrative buildings scattered along the north side.” He glanced over his shoulder and down to the lines of Kenda men armed only with blades, then back at Seg, and shook his head. “Don’t think a speech about Outer gods is gonna do you this one, Theorist.”

“You can watch my back then,” Seg said.

“Everybody shut up,” Shan ordered as she lined up the strafing run. “I’m taking the towers, Fis.”

The trooper nodded. “You’re blue on all pods, racked and ready.”

She nodded, and stuck her tongue out between her lips before ramming the throttle home.

The rider accelerated roughly, the thrusters roaring as they surged toward the compound. She banked a few degrees, then squeezed the trigger. Rockets roared away from the weapon pods on the stubby wings of the rider, blazing down toward the first guard tower. Rock shattered and flew through the air in the explosion, as she soared past, juking the controls to spin the craft and kill airspeed. She switched triggers and walked a burst into the secondary guard tower, bringing it down in a hail of cannon fire. The others fell with equal ease.

“Gimme a rake on that structure at one-three-two,” Fismar said, pointing at the display screen between them. “Barracks.”

Shan spun the rider once more, lighting up the building. On screen, figures of men exited the building, only to flee for some kind of cover as she sprayed the building with the cannon.

“Put us in,” Fismar ordered.

“Hang on,” Shan said, goosing the throttles once more to drive them toward the open courtyard. The rider landed with a firm
thump
that rattled everyone. Seg was still unfastening his straps, when Fismar climbed past him. Shan banged the lever to open the loading ramp, which slammed down on the rocky soil, sunlight streaming into the darkened hold.

Ama was swept with an odd sense of foreboding as the ramp opened and clouds of dust from the exploded rubble settled around the ship. The Kenda were dazed from the frantic maneuvers and sudden landing.

She shucked off her harness and waved Brin, Viren and her brothers to where she stood. “Brin, Viren, you’re in charge of the men. The guards will be confused, use that, keep them busy. Draw as many out here as you can. Thuy, Geras, take some men and search the cell block closest to us, I’ll take Seg and search the other one. As soon as we get Fa, we get back on this ship and go. Spread the word.”

The men gave their agreement. Ama turned to the rest of the Kenda, grabbed her seft and raised it high. “BLOOD FOR WATER!” she shouted. The battle cry jarred the men out of their stupor. They returned the yell and freed themselves from their restraints. Fismar was already at the ramp as the Kenda followed him out.

Outside, the first round of banger fire echoed. Ama stepped out into chaos. Smoke, rubble, shouts and screams; it was as if they had never left the temple. Seg was right behind her. “I need to get inside there,” she pointed to one of the stone buildings surrounding them.

Seg shoved her toward cover, and crouched down as he studied the situation. Ahead, Fismar was already organizing the Kenda, barking orders and maneuvering them.

“Eraranat!” Fismar bellowed. “Get me some needles on that gatepost!”

Seg lined up and fired a salvo, two of the four arced through the window of the stone building. The weapons fire stopped as high-pitched screams erupted. He ejected the spent cassette and dug into his harness. One depleted cartridge left, with only three shots–hopefully they wouldn’t even need them from this point on. Fismar darted back their way as the Kenda used the lull in fire to close with the guards. Around them, vicious close-quarter melees broke out.

Seg pointed to one of the long, low buildings on the east side of the prison grounds, to indicate their objective.

“Okay,” Fismar shouted to Seg, over the din, “you and me and the girl and we’ll see who we can get to follow us in.”

His gaze shifted from Seg and, without a word, Fismar seized the needler that was slung around Seg’s shoulder. Still attached by the strap, Seg was dragged to one side, as Fismar directed the weapon at the small airship that had appeared from nowhere but was on a path straight over the prison grounds.

“Corrus…” Ama said, eyes fixed on the approaching ship, “he was waiting for us.”

As she spoke, Fismar fired the heavy needler, his shot hindered by the resistance of Seg’s body. The hasty burst was mostly off-target, though one needle glanced off one of the skyship engines, which spewed silky black smoke. A bomb detached from the skyship’s belly, arcing toward the ground. It went off on the other side of the rider, but the concussion found them as the rider rocked, nearly tipping on its side. The trio was blown clear away and they impacted on the ground closer to the wall.

Seg groaned and pulled himself up to his knees as the skyship circled around, trailing a plume of smoke. The needler had landed next to him and he seized it, noting the readout. Two shots. He would have to make them count. Fismar was down, maybe dead. This was his now. The skyship was slow but Shan hadn’t taken to the air or fired back, which meant the explosion had damaged the gunship…or her. Either way, wounded prey, an easy target.

Needler in one hand, he lurched up the stairs to the perimeter guard wall. Ahead of him, one of the Kenda pitched a Damiar guard, screaming, from the wall, then turned and advanced down the line. Seg reached the parapet and braced himself against the wall, hefting the needler. It wasn’t the lightest of weapons in regular times, and now every motion made his chest scream with agony. Two shots.

The weapon wavered in his grasp as he struggled to line up the shot; he cursed his weakness. The nose of the skyship flashed suddenly, the BOOM reached his ear a second before the wall beneath him exploded in a shower of stone. He squeezed the trigger as he fell, the ground rushing toward him.

He saw the ground coming. Briefly he felt an impact, then blackness.

Ama’s ears rung painfully, sending her off balance as she tried to stand. Through the smoke, she saw Fismar’s body, face down in the dirt. She looked around for Seg but he was nowhere to be found. Frantically, she stumbled to one side, hands on her ears as she tried to quell the ringing.

“Seg?” she called out, then looked up to see the skyship returning. Two sounds hammered out in quick succession–one from the skyship and one from a point behind her. Before she could turn to see the source of the second sound, there was another blast, a shout, pieces of stone wall raining down around her.

It was in this mess that she saw Seg, falling. A single needle of flame sliced through the air, narrowly missing the skyship. She limped to where he landed, as the shadow of the skyship loomed over her. The craft was trailing smoke but still functional, and it was right over the gunship.

Her eyes skipped from the approaching ship, to Seg and then to something lying very near to him. His weapon.

Clambering over a pile of rubble, she pulled the weapon from the rocks. It had to weigh at least twenty pounds and was more than half as tall as her. She had never fired a banger before but she had watched Seg do it, and had caught some of Fismar’s instructions to the Kenda at the temple.

With a grimace, she lifted the strap of the harness over her shoulder, heaved up the weapon and pointed it at the skyship, her legs trembling beneath her. Her left hand groped for the switch Seg had used to make it work, then flicked it to one side. She felt a low vibration.

Finger on the trigger, she took a deep breath, aimed and squeezed.

A thin needle of flame fired from the weapon, Ama took a step back and slipped on the loose rock, dropping the weapon as she fell.

From the ground, she turned her head just in time to see the needle explode into a fireball as it connected with the front of the skyship. The craft lurched hard to one side, then spiraled down in a long, slow spin until it landed on one of the perimeter walls.

On hands and knees, she scrambled to Seg. He was on one side, half covered in gravel and rubble. His uniform was in tatters and grey dust mixed with blood, making it impossible to tell what injuries he had sustained.

“Seg, Seg, Seg,” she repeated, barely able to hear her own voice above the ringing in her ears. “HELP!” she shouted into the confusion all around her. “Get up, you crazy drexla!” she shouted at Seg’s unmoving body. “Get up!” she shouted again, voice ragged and hoarse.