The plumage on Halik’s tail flared but his crest didn’t rise. “We’ve come a long way, just to turn around. The second choice?”
“Join us,” I’joorka said earnestly. “Help destroy Esshk and change the world!”
“What else?” Yikkit asked, seemingly surprising himself. He glanced apologetically at the Celestial Mother. “What else would we get for that?”
“Little else,” I’joorka conceded, “though in addition to what’s promised in the first choice, you’ll have a voice in the recreation of the Gharrichk’k.”
“And the third choice?” Halik growled, already knowing part of the answer, and unconsciously flicking his eyes at a glowering Dalibor Svec.
I’joorka said nothing, and Pete shrugged, speaking up. “Colonel Enaak and Colonel Svec will escort you back to your army. That was the deal. You could argue I’ve exaggerated my advantages over you in the past, from time to time, but I’ve never broken our first deal, and I won’t break this one. After that we’ll be enemies again,” he stated plainly, expression darkening. “Not the friendly kind, like now, but the kind that’ll rip your guts out.” He tilted his head at the Celestial Mother. “With her help.”
Halik sucked air through jagged, yellowed teeth, eyes settling on Jash. “Were you given these choices?” he demanded.
“I was given three, slightly different—and no regency to rule—but essentially the same.” He held furry-feathery arms out at his sides. “You see which one I chose: the one the Giver of Life preferred. So there really was no choice, in the end.”
Halik looked at his friend. “General Niwa? What does honor demand?”
Niwa pursed his lips. “Only you can decide.” He bowed his head toward Pete. “As you know, he and I were bitter enemies before we came to this world, and I advised you in battle against him. Yet I came to know him in India, and though he’s used”—he smiled—“martial misdirection against us, there’s no dishonor in that. He’s kept his word.” He glanced at Enaak. “More than kept it, and I . . . I do believe I trust him. Far more than I ever did Hisashi Kurokawa. He was the ‘general’ who ‘made’ me, in a sense, and to whom I’ve always rather compared Esshk in many ways. For that reason alone, my preference would be to work with General Alden against any such as Esshk, to whom I feel no obligation at all.” He sighed. “Yet honor doesn’t require ‘preference.’ My ultimate loyalty will always be to my emperor, but he’s on another world and I can’t know how he’d have me act. So you—who have been my lord, with honor given and received—will have my service no matter how you decide.”
He pointed at the Celestial Mother. “But there is your ‘Emperor,’ and you know what she wants. I’d think honor demands that her desires should bind you tighter than those of a mad, rebellious general, as much a stranger to honor as Kurokawa ever was.”
“General Yikkit?” Halik demanded. “You know Enaak and Svec, but have no opinion about Alden. What do you think?”
Yikkit clacked his teeth. “Esshk made me, Lord General, the same as you.” He paused, reflecting. “But I thought he formed us to serve the Celestial Mother, not himself. We all may be his makings to some degree, but we belong to the Giver of Life. If Esshk rebelled against her, tried to destroy her and the Ancient Hij, then . . . I must oppose him. If any ever deserved the traitor’s death, it’s he.”
Halik sighed. “And the army?”
“It will do as you command, as always,” Yikkit assured.
“No!” Halik snapped, and Yikkit recoiled, surprised, while Halik made placating gestures. “I want my warriors to think for themselves!”
“They will,” Niwa said softly. “They’ll think whatever you decide is right, because you command their trust as well as their obedience.” He smiled and looked at the Celestial Mother. “As she is attempting to do with you. So that’s what it comes to, very simple. Can you really present your army to Esshk for him to waste?” He nodded at Pete and the Celestial Mother. “Against him? Against her?”
Halik looked at every face, then stared at the rough-hewn timbers of the dock for several moments, clearly in deep contemplation. Finally, when the other big Clipper roared in for a landing, the sound seemed to snap his reverie. “No,” he said starkly.
“‘No’ what?” Pete asked with equal severity.
“No, I can’t do that,” Halik specified, tone still harsh. “So I’ve decided to give you a choice.” He paused, plucking at his cape and gesturing at his strange flag. “I’ve built more than just a far-flung regency. I’ve made a better Way for our race.” He looked at the Celestial Mother. “A different Way than that which I understand you’re trying to make, and I won’t give that to Esshk . . . or you.” He raised his snout in defiance. “You’ll always be the Giver of Life to any who dwell in the lands of Persia and Arabia and they—and I—will serve you as faithfully as you could ask as long as you keep our trust. But we will remain different. If that’s tolerable to you, my army will support you against Esshk. If not”—he tilted his snout northward—“I’ll accept your first offer and go home.”
“Goddamn!” Pete practically yipped. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying you’ll stay loyal to the crown, throne . . . whatever, and even fight for it, but you want to secede? Set up your own country?”
“Not exactly,” Niwa denied thoughtfully, before Halik could reply. “At least I don’t think so,” he added warily, squinting at Halik. “We’ve discussed something like this, but he took even me by surprise. If I’m not mistaken . . . consider General Halik’s, um, rather large regency as akin to Kurokawa’s ‘Sovereign Nest’ at Zanzibar. Tied to the Grik Empire, but relatively independent.”
“I’ll be damned. Like Canada or Australia. On the loose, but still loyal to the British King.”
“Essentially.”
The Celestial Mother looked confused. “He requires a choice of me?” She looked helplessly at I’joorka, Choon, then Pete. “Does that count as one of the choices we gave him?”
Pete couldn’t help but laugh. “Sort of.” He became serious, thoughts spinning, wishing he could take a minute to talk to Inquisitor Choon alone. Not a good idea right now. I gotta sort this out on my own, fast. No matter what some might’ve hoped, most always knew they’d never wipe the Grik out, so they had to find a way to live with them. It seemed to be working with the Celestial Mother, but the former Grik Empire was so vast, it might take generations to pacify the various factions and glue the unwieldy beast back together. And for what? Pete wondered. So we can keep the whole damn thing under our thumb forever? It’ll never work. But two Grik nations—or more—no matter how closely tied, will still have increasingly different interests. Maybe that’ll make ’em easier for us to deal with. Helluva lot easier to set against each other, if we have to, he realized in a flash of practical cynicism.
He turned to the Celestial Mother. As he did so, he was pleased—and a little chilled—to catch Choon subtly blinking agreement and opportunity. “The main thing is, he’ll fight with us against Esshk. And he’ll support you.” He looked sternly at Halik. “Right?”
“Right,” Halik answered in English.
“Wow. Good.” Pete clapped his hands. “So let’s get on with it. We got a war to win. We can sort out all the other weird crap later.” He looked at Leedom and jerked his head toward the village. The crate he’d brought contained one of the latest Grik army field horns, used in place of bugles or whistles to pass commands on the battlefield. It was actually a bellows incorporating several horns that produced different notes. It reminded Pete of a cross between a squeezebox and a giant chromatic harmonica since the notes could be varied or even combined by opening and closing various apertures with a sliding block. Leedom removed the device from the crate and handed it to one of Enaak’s troopers. “It’s already set on the old ‘attention’ call. Don’t monkey with it,” he cautioned.
“What are you doing?” Halik asked.
>
“I’m going to speak to the Hij and Uul of this village,” the Celestial Mother replied.
Halik stood with his jaw hanging open. Clearly, the Celestial Mother had surprised him again. “You’d speak to ordinary Gharrichk’k?” he finally managed. “No Giver of Life has ever done that!”
“For the good of our race, I mean to do many things that’ve never been done,” she told him haughtily. “What about you? You strive to elevate a regency. I must elevate a continent if we’re to survive.” She whirled in a flash of copper and red and walked after the ’Cat with the horn. Most on the dock followed, leaving only Pete, Leedom, Jash, Halik, Niwa, and two of Svec’s troopers.
“Don’t know what kind of crowd she’ll draw,” Pete mused aloud. “Who knows how far everybody ran? The Fifth Maa-ni-la and Svec’s Czechs can be pretty scary on their meanies and kravaas.” He looked at Halik. “But you know that. Still, I expect she’ll be happy if half a dozen hear her. Word will spread.”
“She is . . . not what I expected,” Halik admitted.
“Me neither. But given what she’s been through and what’s at stake, she seems to be takin’ this queen shit seriously.”
Niwa had to turn the last part into something Halik could understand, but he nodded agreement.
“Kinda inspires you to want to help her, doesn’t it?” Pete probed. Then he took a deep breath. “So. What’re we gonna do?”
“I assume you mean our armies together?”
Pete nodded. “Sounds unnatural when you say it aloud, doesn’t it?”
“Perhaps less so to me than you,” Halik countered. “I’ve enjoyed the grudging assistance of Ker-noll Enaak and Ker-noll S’ec for some time.” He stroked the slightly age-wattled skin beneath his jaw. “Esshk defends Lake Galk?”
“You know he does. With between three and five hundred thousand New Army Grik. Hard to tell for sure, since our air recon’s been limited. Only the Clippers can make it that far until we finish our new airfield at Sofesshk, and with all the antiair rockets Esshk gathered around the lake, the Clippers have to stay too high for detailed observations. We do have some observers on the ground, believe it or not.” He chuckled. “Ol’ Geerki turned out to be one of our best assets. Gave me, Choon, and Rolak a couple hundred interpreters and spies he trained on Madagascar.” Pete frowned. “Trouble is, being from Madagascar, they kind of stand out. A lot have been caught—or maybe just eaten by critters they’ve never seen before. Anyway, we know most of Esshk’s forces are concentrated on the south end of the lake, defending the locks. They know we have to take ’em. Can’t bomb ’em. Just think what would happen downstream, all the way to the sea, if the locks broke.” He shook his head at the mental image of destruction. “Anyway, I’m coming up from the south with about a hundred and twenty thousand, you’ll be coming from the north with a hundred thousand.” He eyed Halik. “The overall strategy’s pretty straightforward. The only real question will be one of trust.”
“How so?”
“Easy. Either I attack Esshk and pin him to the south while you come up behind him and kick him in the ass, or you sneak up and draw his attention before I attack.”
“And each of you must trust the other not to leave you exposed to Esshk’s superior numbers,” Niwa summarized.
“Yeah,” Pete agreed.
“An interesting dilemma,” Halik conceded.
“There is, of course, an alternative,” Niwa said. “If General Halik openly declares for the Celestial Mother and makes no secret of our advance, Esshk will have to divide his force.”
“Unfortunately, half his army might still stop us,” Halik admitted. “Fighting our way across Arabia and half the sacred, ancient land you call ‘Africa’ has left us with . . . somewhat fewer than a hundred thousands now.”
Jash was whipping his snout from side to side. “Lord General, if I may. Many more will swell your ranks after you declare.” He looked at Pete. “The same is true for my Slashers.”
Halik nodded. “Perhaps. Uul warriors of limited use for the most part, but better than nothing. Particularly given time to train and arm them.” He looked at Pete. “I seized large stores of weapons in the regencies I crossed. The artillery is adequate, if overheavy, but like your paalkas and other animals, we’ve harnessed neekis—large, upright foodbeasts—to pull our guns. The small arms are not as good as what Esshk has now, such were not issued to frontier troops, but I can arm many recruits.”
The first deep blast of the “attention” horn sounded, echoing dully back from the village and the dense forest beyond.
“Lord General,” Jash resumed when the noise faded away. “It may be possible . . . I might secure additional New Army aid, if permitted to try.”
Halik and Pete both stared at him.
“Where?” Pete asked. “How many?”
“How many do you believe General Ign has left? And how many of your own do you spend keeping him from joining Esshk?”
“Huh,” Pete breathed, skeptically. “Well, as to numbers, Ign has fifteen to twenty thousand. Again, hard to say. He’s in thick forest and rough country. Nancys off the river can reach him, and they bomb the crap out of him whenever he bunches up. The Repub Fifth Corps is short a couple of divisions, the Fifth for one, but it’s got sixteen thousand, chasing him around.”
Halik’s eyes turned to slits. “Didn’t Ign declare for Esshk?”
“Yeah,” Pete confirmed, “and he’s a tough old bastard. Could’ve thrown in the towel a dozen times but kept on going.”
Niwa wasn’t sure himself what “thrown in the towel” meant, but everyone seemed to get the gist.
“What else could he do?” Jash asked defensively, short crest rising. “Esshk ‘made’ him too. Worse, he made him complicit in his plot to eliminate the Ancient Hij and rule through a Giver of Life whom Ign assumed was a helpless hatchling. This when all he knew was falling apart and only Esshk seemed able to stop it.” He hissed a sigh. “Ign knows what ‘honor’ is, even without a word for it, and must feel, like you”—he looked at Halik—“he owes some to Esshk. Conversely, he doesn’t know the Giver of Life as we do, and can’t imagine he can reverse his treason.” Jash turned to Pete. “So as you say, he just ‘keeps going.’”
“What’s your point?” Pete asked.
“Only that I know him and he . . . respects me. I’d try to turn him from Esshk if I could.”
Pete rubbed his eyes. “Shit. Look, Colonel Jash—I’m sorry, and no offense—but I’m not even used to you being on our side yet.” He looked at Niwa, then Halik. “Them neither. Hell! We’ve all done our best to kill each other so long, I’ll never figure out how I feel about this. But now you want to run off and try to get Ign to join us too? Just like that?” He snapped his fingers.
The thunderous “attention” horn sounded again and Pete looked that way. To his surprise, dozens of Grik had crept from the woods to stand in front of the frightening me-naaks of the 5th Maa-ni-la Cavalry.
“I doubt it’ll be that easy,” Jash admitted. “But I feel honor bound, as I understand the concept, to try. For you, for the Giver of Life, for Ign . . . even myself. I’m the most you’ll lose if I fail, and Ker-noll Shelg can take my place commanding the Slashers.”
“But . . . how the hell will you find him? Get to him in time to do any good?”
“Let him take one of those Grik zeps we captured,” suggested Mark Leedom.
Pete was surprised, both by the proposal and its source. “One of those ‘rattletraps’?” he goaded.
Leedom waved that away. “The lizard’s right, General,” he pressed. “I’ve gotten to know Jash better than you. Some of his guys’re helping oversee the construction of Saansa Field, and I . . . well, he’s all right by me. Besides, ask Rolak, Geerki, Chack—a hundred others. Grik don’t break anymore, and they don’t change sides just because they’re losing, but sometimes they do when they kno
w they’ve lost. We’ve seen it a bunch of times now, and the ones who’ve come over to us have stuck.”
“It’s true,” Niwa said. “I saw the same thing in Persia.” He took a quick look at his Grik friend. “Even General Halik was surprised when the remains of Shighat’s army came over to him. I suspect it’s an instinctive pack survival mechanism, long suppressed, since even their regency-on-regency wars always degenerate into harvesting meat for the cookpots.” He frowned at that, but continued. “It’s been so long since ‘packs’ have had the option of surrender, of joining those who beat them, they’ve forgotten how. Until now.”
The horn blared a third time, and Pete saw the shore past the Maa-ni-los and Czechs had filled with Grik, patiently waiting.
“I want this over,” Leedom said quietly. “I’m sick of losing people.” He sighed. “And we’ve got a whole other war on the other side of the world. We’ve got to finish this, and Fifth Corps can help”—he nodded at Jash—“even if he only gets Ign to sit it out, like you said Halik could. That’ll help by itself. Let him go.”
Pete scratched his chin under his dark whiskers, then swept his hand across his beard to bring it back under control. “Okay,” he finally said, looking at Halik. “Unlike our deal, which was already kind of agreed on, I’ll have to let the CM, Choon, and General Kim kick it around. Fifth Corps is Kim’s after all, and turning its back on Ign will be seen as a risk. But I think I can swing it.” He glared hard at Jash. “Don’t let me down . . . and don’t get killed.”
Halik shifted, seemingly uncomfortable. “Perhaps I should go to Esshk as well. Talk with him before attacking.” He glanced at Niwa. “That would be the ‘honorable thing,’ would it not?”
Pete barked a laugh, then growled, “That’s rich, asking a Jap about the ‘honor’ of a sneak attack.” Niwa reddened, but Pete was looking at Halik. “Jash might actually have a chance, but if you tell Esshk to take a leap, to his face, he’ll just kill you. Think where that leaves your generals, your army, all you’ve done in Persia, and your Celestial Mother. Besides, Esshk’ll hear about it almost as soon as you declare against him. You won’t be taking him by surprise. Matter of fact, the way things’re set up, there aren’t any big surprises left to spring on him,” he added grimly. “He’s on the defensive with an equal or greater force, and we have to go to him. Best we can do is throw enough little surprises at him to shake him up, spread him out, make him defend too much—then pound the ever-living shit out of him.”
Winds of Wrath Page 19
