The Midnight Sun (The Omega War Book 2)

by Tim C. Taylor

  It was ten minutes at full tilt before Branco could persuade her to turn and run back. This could work, but he’d need to engineer some solutions first.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 106

  “This is as pretty a picture as could be,” whispered Blue, stepping closer to the sleeping trio. “Forbidden innocence. Illicit lovers, caught after the act in their shady woodland bower. If only I could send a picture of this to Momma.”

  She tiptoed closer still to get the best shot from her wrist slate camera, but her subjects weren’t cooperating. The gently snoring girl rested her head delightfully on the man’s broad, albeit filthy, shoulder, but they were so well concealed by the ferns and leaves they’d wrapped around themselves that to take a clear photograph she’d have to lean into the nest. Doing so would take her too close to the third member of this ménage a trois, whose ten limbs and neurotoxin-enhanced fangs could spoil this reunion before you could say, “Betty, it’s me.”

  There were those in this galaxy who claimed that Captain Blue lacked a proper sense of caution. But even her detractors wouldn’t expect her to startle a Tortantula when less than a yard from her fangs.

  Blue took several steps back. Then several more. The shot was ruined, but…what the hell?

  She took the photo anyway, the flash jerking the humans into guilty wakefulness. Betty didn’t move.

  “Perfect,” Blue announced. “I’ve been agonizing over which image to use on this year’s corporate Christmas cards. Now I have it.”

  “I wasn’t asleep,” Betty told her. “I was guarding the humans.”

  “Easy, Trooper,” Blue replied. “I understand. One eye open. Nine closed. Shame that eye was pointing at the inside of its eyelid.”

  Her big sister’s face cycled through shock, anger, guilt, pain, and delight, before randomly revisiting the entire gamut of emotions. You must have had a helluva a time in this swamp, sis. Blue kept her grin fixed as Sun threw aside the branches of her concealment. Branco looked like shit. He didn’t even get up.

  “Now, sleeping with him I understand,” Blue leered, winking at Branco, “but Betty…I never saw that coming. I bet Tatterjee’s jealous. Is that why you came all the way out here to indulge in your forbidden love?”

  “Tatterjee is here,” Betty insisted.

  But Blue wasn’t interested in deciphering the Tortantula’s words. Her heart was too busy melting as her sister finally freed herself of the foliage and hurried over.

  Sun slapped her on the face so hard she stumbled back half a pace.

  Blue licked her lips, testing for blood. “Striking your superior officer, Sun. Is this bad boy you’ve been lying with leading you astray?”

  “I didn’t strike an officer. I slapped my little sister because she’s being such an insufferable bitch. I’m through making allowances for you, sis. You’ve got problems – we all know that – but so do others I care about. Good people have suffered and died because we came to this hell planet. I know you treat life as a game, and that’s your way, but don’t expect everyone around you to join in.”

  Blue shot Branco a look of hatred. “Feel free to comment, Trooper,” she snapped, but he didn’t seem to notice her fury. If the bastard was going to steal her sister away, she’d make him crawl through hell first.

  “Leave him be,” growled Sun protectively.

  “If he’s such a big boy, he can fight his own battles.”

  “He can’t. He’s sick. I had to amputate both legs, and the wounds refuse to heal.”

  Crap! She’d said the wrong thing again. But Sun was in her arms, sobbing with relief. “When you weren’t with Venix,” Blue whispered, “I thought you were dead.”

  Sun drew back. “You’ve seen Venix?”

  “Yeah,” Blue replied, wiping away a tear that was surely her sister’s. “Venix was sailing my tugs down the river, pretending to be a Zuparti Cleopatra sailing his royal barges down the Nile. Meanwhile the Dove is watching and tracking our alien Cleo, using Venix to bait me to come rescue him and my Raknar. Dove knows, or guesses, Midnight Sun is still intact, although it’s more badly damaged than he probably thinks. I had to evacuate with the crew.”

  “So,” said Sun, “Venix is literally sailing into a trap.”

  “Oh, it gets worse.” She grinned.

  “Sis!” warned Sun. “It’s not a game, remember?”

  “What?” protested Blue, but she realized her face was filled with wide-eyed glee. She tried dialing down her excitement. “Sorry. The Veetanho have built Dove a fortress near the north of the river delta that opens up about a day’s march downriver. Hidden inside is a powerful artillery battery. He’s hoping Midnight Sun will rise from the waves to rescue Venix, and that’s when he’ll blast the ship with his battery.” She scratched her bald head. “I gotta say, a duel between ground-based artillery and a starship is a first. I’d like to see how that works out, but we’ve barely got enough power left to run a hot shower. The old ship could maybe squeeze off a couple of vacuum-missiles, but that’s about it. And Lieutenant Flkk’Sss says if the battery starts shelling us, we’ve got ten minutes, tops, before it cracks the ship open.”

  “What about Gloriana and her people?” asked Branco. “Did they evacuate the ship too?”

  “Ahhh. The sleeper awakes. Gloriana and her friends are running the ship now.”

  Sun raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Is the ship really so damaged,” she asked, “or did they just want rid of you?”

  “I miss having eyebrows. You’ve got such a snarky look going for you, sister.”

  “Well?”

  “Jenkins and the elSha agree that all our reactors are screwed by whatever was shot at my ship. And if Jeha and elSha can agree on something, you can be sure it’s true.”

  “Then we’re well and truly screwed,” said Sun.

  “Are we, Major?” asked Betty. “You said we didn’t need to defeat the enemy humans. All we need to do is delay them.”

  “Out of the mouths of babes and Tortantulas,” said Blue, grinning ear to ear. “We’d heard nothing as of two days ago, when we abandoned the ship. Reinforcements could be here already. Or come tomorrow. Or never. But we have to continue as if they’re on their way.”

  “What?” said Betty, blinking many eyes. “What comes out of Tortantula mouths?”

  “It’s a human expression,” Branco explained. “Out of the mouths of babes and Tortantulas comes great wisdom.”

  Betty nodded. “Your species has a saying about mine? That’s…” She blinked a sequence in her eyes. “Very pleasing. Did I ever tell you we have one about humans?”

  The Tortantula flipped Branco onto her back. “It’s about you mercenaries specifically. The harder the shell to crack, the tastier the meat inside. We say it when we go into battle against you people in your metal suits. Very funny. Branco, you like?”

  But Branco was retching.

  “Major! Major! He’s making those noises again.”

  “You know what to do, Trooper.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Betty carried the sick man behind a bush. The retching noises grew more disgusting.

  “Sounds bad,” Blue said. She wanted to sound sympathetic, but the truth was she was petulantly frustrated. The Rietzkens were ready to fight, and she was eager to announce that dramatic development to an attentive audience.

  Sun sighed. “Yeah, he’s bad. Passing a lot of blood.”

  “And Tatterjee?”

  “Dead. It’s a long story. I think Betty’s developed an attachment to Branco as her way of coping.” She shrugged. “She’s a Tortantula. How the hell can anyone really know what goes on in a mind like that?”

  “Ah, there’s our boy,” said Blue when Betty returned bearing him on her back.

  A human atop a Tortantula? First she’d heard of such a thing, but the man looked as poised as a champion showjumper. Between Tatterjee’s saddle, Betty’s equipment harness, and cup-like stirrups for his stumps that had been woven from lea
ves and vines, he looked stable. But would it stand up to combat?

  Blue bit her lip. She wanted to be away to the river, not dallying here, but for her sister’s sake she made the time to walk over to the wounded trooper and inspect the bandages over his stumps.

  “We’ll get that looked at by a proper medic when we rendezvous with the ship’s crew. Keep yourself from dying, and we’ll regrow those legs. Not saying it’ll be easy, or pleasant, but the company health plan will deliver anything short of reincarnation. After a few months of physical therapy, you’ll be wriggling your manly butt in front of my sister the way we both know she adores.”

  “Good to hear,” said Branco. “But let’s get to business. You didn’t materialize out of the trees. River’s only a few hundred yards away. And the river is how I’d get around unobserved if I were a Rietzken. They’re here, aren’t they?”

  “They are. But we were expecting to pick up one small human female. I wasn’t expecting my sister to have acquired a following.”

  “I’m not abandoning my CASPer,” Sun insisted.

  “And I’m not letting my human assistant abandon me.” Betty looked disturbingly agitated as she spoke. “This terrain is dangerous. I need him to watch my back.”

  What had gotten into the alien?

  Blue looked critically at Branco. His flesh had shrink-wrapped onto his heavy frame. The ruggedly handsome face that had once pleased her eye was now cadaverous. She doubted he’d last the day. That would be sad and everything, but she was more worried about Betty. Having a Tortantula on the team might be the edge they needed, but how would Betty cope if she lost her new partner on top of Tatterjee? She couldn’t risk losing Branco.

  “I’m sorry,” Blue told the Tortantula, “but I need this man to watch my back. You’ll have to make do with my sister.”

  “I understand, ma’am. But can he stay until the major has activated her CASPer?”

  “Very well.”

  “No one’s going anywhere,” said Sun, “until I understand what forces we have, who’s in charge now, and how we’re going to link up.”

  “You’re in charge,” Blue answered. “Gloriana made that clear. But that’s assuming you can get yourself and your CASPer to our rendezvous. Two days’ hard march. Can you handle that?”

  “That’s not going to be a problem. Tell me what I need to know about the Rietzkens.”

  Blue laughed. “Sis,’ you’re gonna love this…”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 107

  The Dove liked to think his plan was so perfect that even Commissar Boroi enthusiastically supported him. The reality was more likely that, when Boroi had promoted herself after the tragic death of Commissar Penree, she’d been reluctant to countermand her human subordinate, because by then they knew a new senior Veetanho commander was on her way to the Rakbutu system. If Dove screwed up, Boroi could explain to the new overall commander that the human had been following Penree’s orders.

  Commodore Noikaa had arrived at the emergence point in the Scythe two days ago, and within minutes she’d issued her first order. Henceforth, the Dove was to report directly to Commissar Boroi. A direct subordinate!

  He felt the desperate need to puff on a cigar at the thought of this ignominy, but of course he couldn’t. His armorer had given him stiff words about ever again disabling the fire suppressant system inside the suit to appreciate the occasional Robusta and accidentally ruining thousands of credits’ worth of haptic interfaces. His wife said he should smoke for the pleasure of it, not to hide his anxiety. Margherita was correct as usual.

  The Condottieri had worked contracts with Altar, Zuparti, Bakulu, Zuul and a host of other alien races. Even Besquith on one occasion – a mistake never to be repeated. Those contracts had delivered hardship, loss, death, excitement, many cigars, and other pleasures – some of which it wasn’t necessary for Margherita to learn of. Yet in all that time, the contractual arrangement had been simple and clear: if the Condottieri did this, they’d be paid that amount.

  And the Dove had always delivered.

  Until the Scythe had appeared and declared that this Commodore Noikaa was now assuming direct command of all forces, human and otherwise, due to “unacceptable progress” and “escalation of the situation.” And that was before the newcomer had learned her predecessor was dead.

  This new arrangement with Noikaa was contractually unclear. The original contract with General Peepo had been to retrieve three Raknar. Now Dove suspected the Veetanho intention was to go to war with mysterious alien enemies using his CASPers as cannon fodder. How would he pay the extensive death benefits for the Condottieri who would inevitably fall? The Dove’s attempts to clarify the situation had been rebuffed. His position was too weak to push harder, yet he was in too far to back out now. This was the biggest gamble he’d ever taken, but he and DiAngelo had gambled before and won. Usually.

  And here at the very edge of the swamp was where his luck would turn around.

  The trees here finally gave way to a few miles of mud flats before the river drained into the sea. The river delta split and split again into many channels and tiny islands. The route the Midnighters had chosen for their Raknar rafts passed through a narrow stretch between two islands before widening again as the river merged for its final miles.

  Chains had already been raised at the channel’s entrance upstream, and in a few minutes they’d be raised at its downstream exit. A few inconsequential mercenaries might possibly escape this trap, but these two Raknar were his – as they assuredly had been since the beginning of this chase.

  To make sure of that, his engineers had secured sturdy yet hidden platforms in six trees that flanked the channel near the trap. They should be very difficult to spot from the river yet had views down to the water. On each bank two platforms had heavy railguns, and one was manned by a sniper. As soon as that Zuparti showed his whiskers and his alleged deadman walking stick, Commander Venix’s next destination would be the Dove’s favorite taxidermist, who resided just outside of Monaco. Or maybe the furrier at Nantes. He would take his time to decide Venix’s final fate on the journey back to Earth.

  “If you can do so without risking the Raknar,” said Boroi, “prolong the engagement.”

  Other than her fur, which resembled that of a white mouse, rather than Penree’s, which had been fluffed mint and chocolate ice cream, Penree’s replacement looked and sounded identical. But as the days wore on, Dove was developing something of a connection to this Veetanho. Across the species boundary, they were growing to understand each other. “You mean,” confirmed the Dove, “you wish me to exploit this opportunity to lure the sister from her hiding place beneath the sea?”

  “Exactly.”

  It was a shame the other sister, Sun Sue, had never been caught. She’d have made a pretty lure. But Boroi was correct.

  “Seven Hills, this is the Dove. Kindly confirm your battery status.”

  “Locked and loaded, Colonel,” answered Captain Fiorentino. “A and B Batteries are loaded with armor piercing and ready to respond to any sign of Midnight Sun offshore. C Battery is loaded with nerve gas shells and ranged on your kill zone in the river delta.”

  Fiorentino ended with a concerned tone, but he didn’t voice whatever was worrying him.

  “Thank you, Captain. If you’re worried for our safety, I can assure you we’re all gas-proof here.” Dove linked in DiAngelo. “Status?”

  “Estimate leading Raknar raft will be here in seven minutes. Their advanced party in five.”

  “Very good. Raise the chains at your discretion, Lorenzo. Give our adversaries plenty of time to see them and consider their implications. Corporal Etienne. Are you in position?”

  “I have eyes on the kill zone,” said the senior sniper. “So has Chantilly. The instant Venix shows himself, he’s dead.”

  “Remember, Etienne, your orders are to avoid inconveniencing my taxidermist. Or possibly my furrier.” He looped in the entire command. “I want radio silence fr
om here on. The Condottieri always deliver, my friends. This mission has been arduous, I know, but it shall not prove an exception.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 108

  The Dove watched the small raft that had appeared first as it landed a Midnighter advance party on one bank slightly before the edge of the trees. They took up watchful positions with laser rifles at the ready.

  They weren’t inside CASPers. Why not?

  Then the main party floated into view – two huge rafts floating line astern, which dwarfed the first rafts he’d seen. These mega rafts didn’t just carry the tugs along the river but had lean-to shelters. There was even a cooking fire and fishing rods hanging off one edge. The rafts followed the middle of the channel, which was about sixty feet wide at this point, but they were so broad an unassisted human could almost leap from bank to raft.

  DiAngelo raised the chains, which were constructed from a material so advanced he had no translation for the Veetanho name. They were wrapped around so many trees that even the momentum of the lifters and their Raknar couldn’t break them.

  The sight of dripping chain links rising from the water provoked shouts from the rafts and the beginnings of commotion. The advance party with the laser rifles searched nervously for the origin of this intervention, but the Dove had positioned his CASPers too far back from the river to be seen.

  Everything hinged on the Zuparti. If these two rafts really did house thermonuclear devices…

  Then he was taking a terrible risk, but he had no choice. He wouldn’t allow the human race to be reduced to the crushing misery of slavery he’d endured.

  Through skillfully hidden cameras, Dove watched the events unfold, barely daring to breathe.

  Would Venix appear and depress that button on his cane?

  At the encounter on the bluffs, he admitted that Venix had caught him off guard with his alleged nuclear deterrent. Since then he’d talked it over a great deal with DiAngelo, and they’d come to a grim conclusion. If the Veetanho regarded the Condottieri as failures, he and Lorenzo believed that human mercs would be forever regarded as a dangerous and unnecessary liability by the Veetanho. They’d be stripped of their right to be field mercenaries, and without that, what then for humanity? By Union standards, the Earth’s only tradable resource of significance was her mercenaries. If there were no mercs, Earth couldn’t afford to pay for its defense. She’d be wide open, and in their brief existence, the Four Horsemen and their successors had made a lot of enemies.