by Timothy Zahn
And until she and Beach managed to immobilize the truck, they were going to be trapped under here, with a limited firing range and near zero maneuverability. All the Trofts had to do was line up along the sides and start shooting, and it would be all over.
"Blast it, Lorne," she snarled under her breath. "Where are you?"
* * *
"They're in!" the radio announced. "In, and under."
Ghushtre slapped Lorne on the shoulder. "Go."
"Already going," Lorne snapped, his tension crackling all the way to his fingertips as he keyed the controls. Like he needed Ghushtre or anyone else to tell him.
The four drones that had been hovering innocently above the backup ship, out of view of its mostly downward-looking cameras, were dropping now toward the weapons wings. At the same time, the two drones that had been flanking the grounded ship were drifting more subtly toward its portside wings, the ones that pointed into the city and had the best angle on the half-open SkyJo lair.
A sudden, odd thought flicked across the back of Lorne's mind: whether in the urgency of the moment it had ever occurred to the Troft commanders in Sollas to wonder what the Qasamans might have done to the drones during the minutes when Lorne had been blacking out their transmissions. With a sudden, final surge all six drones rounded their designated wings and came up beneath them, nestling in close to the weapons clusters—"Now," Lorne said. Behind him, he heard the click as Ghushtre triggered the radio transmitter.
And with a multiple, stuttering roar, the bombs the Qasamans had packed aboard the drones exploded.
"Yes," Lorne hissed under his breath, curling his hands into tight fists. The brilliant yellow-white of the blasts quickly turned to reddish black as the fireballs faded and mixed with bits of shattered warship. The last bits of fire vanished into the expanding cloud of debris, and Lorne tightened his fists even harder as he waited anxiously to see if the Qasamans' gamble had paid off.
It had. The upper backup ship was reeling violently, wobbling like a drunken politician as it fought to maintain altitude after the multiple shocks to its hydraulic, control, and power systems. As it twisted around, Lorne got a clear view of both sides, enough to see that all four of its weapons wings had been disintegrated.
"Misfire!" the radio barked suddenly. "Forward-portside-beta has not triggered. Repeat, forward-portside-beta has not triggered."
Lorne's heart seemed to freeze. The forward portside weapons cluster on the lower ship covered the side of the ramp that Lorne's mother had just jumped up onto. That was also the side any Qasaman reinforcements would have to use to follow her and Beach inside. If that cluster was still active—"Ghushtre!" he snapped.
"Trying," Ghushtre said tightly, toggling the firing switch again and again. "It's not working. A connection must have been lost."
"We have to do something," Lorne insisted, his stomach churning as he stared at the ship squatting at the edge of the city a kilometer away.
But there wasn't anything that could be done. With both forward weapons clusters still intact, the warship had the ramp completely covered, blocking any chance for Jin or Beach to escape or for any Qasamans to reinforce them. Even worse, the fire zone of the undamaged portside cluster covered the two closest SkyJo lairs, the ones that should even now be disgorging a stream of attack helicopters that could quickly batter the alien warships to rubble.
And unless the commanders in Azras could make that happen, and fast, Lorne's mother would die. This final gamble would be lost, and Qasama and the Cobra Worlds would remain under Troft domination. Maybe forever.
"Don't underestimate them, Lorne Moreau," Ghushtre said quietly. "You and I may be out of the fight in here. But they aren't. They will find a way."
"They who?" Lorne asked, his frozen mind barely even registering Ghushtre's words. "My mom and Beach?"
Ghushtre rested his hand reassuringly on Lorne's shoulder. "Your mother and Everette Beach... and the Qasamans."
* * *
[The three Purma warships, they will proceed immediately to Azras,] Inxeba snarled, his radiator membranes fluttering with consternation or surprise or rage. Probably, Merrick thought, mostly rage. [Captain Geceg, he will be in command of them. Captain Zimise and Captain Dinga, they will withdraw immediately to rendezvous with him.]
[Captain Zimise, his floatators are malfunctioning,] Officer Cebed reported, his membranes showing even more agitation than his commander's. [Captain Zimise, he warns his warship may need to be grounded for safety.]
[Safety, there is none of it in war,] Inxeba retorted. [Captain Zimise, he will withdraw toward Purma. The order, you will send it.]
[The order, I obey it,] Cebed said reluctantly. [Captain Dinga, his floatators are also malfunctioning. The floatators, they must be restarted.]
[The floatators, they will not be restarted,] Inxeba snarled. [Captain Dinga, he will seal his ramp and lift his ship. Captain Dinga, he will then kill the enemies in his vehicle bay.]
He turned challenging eyes to Ukuthi. [Commander Ukuthi, has he objections to this path?] he demanded.
[Commander Ukuthi, he is content to allow you to choose the path,] Ukuthi said calmly. [The results, I will be interested in seeing them.]
Merrick swallowed hard. If the warship lifted with his mother and Beach still inside, all hope for them would be lost. Did Ukuthi realize that? Or did he simply not care?
Or could it be that he had some inkling of what the Qasamans were planning, and had no intention of sharing that insight with Inxeba?
[The results, you will see them soon,] Inxeba promised, turning back to the displays. [The order, give it. The victory, it will soon be ours.]
* * *
Beach's antiarmor laser stopped firing, and Jin glanced over to see a reddish glow coming from the wheel mechanism he'd been firing at. If he hadn't slagged the mechanism into uselessness, she guessed, it wasn't ever going to happen.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to be sure. She fired another arcthrower burst into the engine, and then another.
And with a violent shudder, the engine finally went silent.
Jin took a deep breath. They'd done it. The truck was disabled, and the other four vehicles lined up behind it were now well and truly trapped.
Only as she paused to evaluate the situation, she realized with a sinking sensation that the risk she and Beach had taken had been rendered moot. Outside the bay, she could see the flashes of laser fire coming from above—not the fire of SkyJos, with their distinctive rotor sound, but fire from one of the warship's weapons clusters. Somehow, the Qasamans' drone attack had failed.
And with that failure, she and Beach were dead.
She looked at Beach, found him looking back at her. "I think," he said, "we'd better find a way out of here."
"Agreed," Jin said, shifting her eyes again to scan what she could of the rest of the bay.
Only there wasn't anywhere to go. Armored Troft feet were hitting the deck all across the bay as the soldiers who'd been inside the trucks scrambled out to deal with this new threat to their ship. Even if Jin and Beach had time to get out into the open before the Trofts began firing, there was only so much their nanocomputers and programmed reflexes could do. In an enclosed space, even this large an enclosed space, the kind of firepower about to be brought to bear would kill them within seconds.
Outside, the flashes of laser fire seemed to intensify, and Jin felt a new vibration against her back as the ramp started rising again from the ground. With all hope of an armored sortie now thwarted, the Trofts were sealing the ship, probably in preparation for getting the hell out of Azras.
And once the ramp was closed, there would literally be nowhere for Jin and Beach to go.
A pair of Trofts moved suddenly into view alongside the truck. Jin rolled partially over and gave them each a shot from her anti-armor laser. Not that the ramp had ever offered any real chance anyway. With one weapons clusters on each side of the ship still intact, the whole ramp area would be open to Troft attack.
>
Or rather, most of it would be. Abruptly, Jin's mind flashed back to Lorne's own daring climb up the outside of the other warship during the phase one attack. He and McCollom had shown that there was a blind spot at the very end of the ramp just as it rose into its closed position.
Of course, here there would be no chance of stopping it partially open the way Lorne and McCollom had. There would certainly be no time to climb it like they had.
But if she and Beach could get out from under the truck without getting themselves killed, there should be enough time for Jin to throw Beach up the ramp to the far end before it sealed itself shut. From there he might be able to jump all the way to the top of the ship, or possibly to one of the nearby Qasaman buildings.
Or maybe he could get onto the wing and destroy the remaining portside weapons cluster.
A rush of painful memory flooded back in on her as she thought back to Caelian and her own attempt to pull that stunt. She'd succeeded, but had nearly died in the process.
But if she could survive, there was a chance Beach could, too. And even the small odds out there were better than the nonexistent ones in here. "Beach—"
"Ramp's closing," he cut her off. "Roll over here, will you?"
"There's no time—"
"When I give the word, we're going to get out from under here, and I'm going to throw you up onto the end of the ramp," Beach continued. "Got it?"
Jin felt her mouth drop open. "That was my idea."
"It's mine now," Beach said. "No time to argue. Get over here—" He broke off, spinning to the side and sending a Troft sprawling to the deck with an arcthrower jolt. "Get over here and let's do it."
There was a movement beside Jin, and she again turned up onto her side as a trio of Trofts sprinted toward her. "All right," she called to Beach, targeting the attackers. "I'll be right—"
She jerked violently back as, without warning, a huge slab of concrete dropped out of nowhere, slamming into the Trofts she'd been about to shoot and throwing them to the deck amid a cloud of white dust and an impact that seemed to shake the whole ship. Jin had just enough time to blink at the slab in disbelief when, all around her, she heard and felt the heavy thuds of a dozen more impacts. Somewhere behind her a Troft shouted in rage or agony—
And from the direction of the still-rising ramp came a firestorm of laser bolts, crackling the air and throwing a flickering blue glow across the walls and deck.
Against all odds, against the awesome firepower of the warship's heavy lasers, the Qasamans had arrived.
And as the firestorm continued against the screams and panicked footsteps of the Troft soldiers, Jin finally focused her full attention on the slab of concrete lying on the deck beside her. On the heat-stress cracks all through it, on its burned and blistered upper side...
"Jin Moreau?" a Qasaman voice called anxiously.
"We're here, Domo Pareka," Jin called back. "Under the truck."
"Stay there," Pareka ordered, and as Jin lifted her gaze from the half-melted concrete she could see from the reflected laser light that the Cobras' attack was moving back through the bay. "Give us a moment to clear them out."
"Nice to have someone else take point for a change," Beach murmured from his side of the truck. "I just hope they didn't lose too many getting in here."
"I don't think so," Jin said. "It looks like they grabbed chunks of the broken buildings and wall and used them as shields while they ran up the ramp."
"Nicely done," Beach said approvingly. "Also amazingly done. Those slabs are heavy as hell."
"You'd be amazed at how far sheer stubbornness will take someone," Jin said, listening with half an ear to the battle. It was all the way in the back now, and was definitely winding down. "But all the stubbornness in the world won't help the SkyJos," she added. "We still have to knock out that weapon cluster."
"Yeah, well, I've got an idea on that one," Beach said.
Jin's stomach tightened. "Just bear in mind that I'm the only one who's ever actually pulled it off," she warned him. "If anyone's going to do it, I am."
"Actually, I've got something a little safer in mind," Beach said. "Come on—sounds like the fighting's about over."
They crawled out from under the truck to find that the fighting was indeed over. A few of the Qasaman Cobras were at each of the two stairwell doors, listening closely or else firing at the door jambs with their fingertip lasers. The rest were going methodically through the trucks and other vehicles, checking to make sure no one was still hiding inside. "Are you all right?" Pareka asked, hurrying toward them. "There's no time to lose—we have to find a way to get you out and to safety."
"What happened out there?" Jin asked. "It sounded like only one of the drones exploded."
"Yes, the one planned for the forward cluster failed," Pareka said. "And with weapons still on both sides of the warship, the SkyJos can't lift from their lairs without risking destruction. The warship is preparing to lift, and we find that the retreating invaders have welded the stairway doors against us."
"Not a problem," Beach assured him. "We have—"
"You don't understand," Pareka said sharply, changing direction toward the ramp controls and waving Jin and Beach to join him. "Once you're safely outside—we'll detach two of the truck doors for you to use as shields—we'll need to force the stairway doors and try to reach the control room before the ship escapes."
"And you think we're just going to run off and leave you?" Jin asked.
"You of the Cobra Worlds have done your share. Jasmine Moreau," Pareka said firmly. "In truth, you've done far more than your share. The rest of the fighting—and the dying—will be ours."
"Or we could do it without any dying at all," Beach suggested, extending a finger to point at the nearest truck. "You see those trucks, Cobra Pareka? You see those swivel guns on their roofs?"
"Of course," Pareka said impatiently. "How else do you think we plan to breach the stairwell doors?"
"And do you see that?" Beach continued, turning his finger to point at the machine shop at the far end of the bay. "Behind that bulkhead—behind, above and below—is the ship's engineering section. Where all the generators are. Including the ones that power the grav lifts and the weapons clusters."
For a second Pareka just stared at him. Then, his lips twisted in a tight smile. "And you think the swivel guns can penetrate the bulkheads?"
"All I know is that even warships have to save weight somewhere," Beach said, setting off at a fast stride toward the rear of the bay. "I see eight trucks and eight swivel guns," he added over his shoulder. "I've got dibs on the one at the rear. Get your people inside the others, and let's give it a try. Sooner or later, if we keep at it, we're bound to hit something vital."
Three and a half minutes later, they did.
* * *
[Captain Dinga, he urgently requests assistance,] Officer Cebed reported tightly. [Emergency battery power, his ship relies now upon it. His weapons, they are no longer functional.]
[Captain Dinga, do his soldiers do battle with the enemy?] Inxeba demanded.
[The enemy, they are barricaded inside the vehicle bay,] Cebed said. [The enemy, they have contented themselves with crippling his ship.] His membranes twitched abruptly as he leaned closer to his board. [The drones, the enemy has remote-accessed them,] he said, sounding bewildered. [The drones, the enemy has flown all twelve from Captain Dinga's ship.]
[Captain Zimise, he reports the Azras SkyJos have risen from their lairs,] one of the other officers spoke up. [Six SkyJos, they are flying toward Purma.]
[Captain Dinga, he confirms the report,] Cebed said, still sounding confused by the drones' mass exodus. [Two drones, they are now being flown in point before each of the SkyJos.]
Inxeba gave a rasping snort. [Foolishness, the enemy has it,] he said contemptuously. [Their plan, I see it. The ally-identification system, they believe the drones to be connected with it. The drones, the enemy expects them to prevent the warships from firing upon the Sk
yJos.]
[Captain Geceg, he reports his warships are in visual range of Azras and the approaching SkyJos,] the third officer spoke up. [The SkyJos, do you wish them destroyed?]
[Their destruction, it will not be yet,] Inxeba said. [The SkyJos, they will be allowed to fly closer. The enemy's hopes, I will allow them to remain a few minutes longer. The enemy's confidence, I will then shatter it in a single thrust.]
He turned to Ukuthi, seated quietly on his couch. [And the honor of the Drim'hco'plai, it will be restored.]
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"There they go," Popescu announced, craning his neck and looking up at the display hanging in midair over them in the sideways control room. "Rather, here they come. I guess they're done talking to Eubujak."
"They stayed in the air the whole time?" Kemp asked.
"Yeah," Popescu said. "Too bad, too. I was hoping they'd put down in the middle of our Wonderland buffet and try to walk over to the cage. Or better yet, land right on top of the curtain and let Wonderland in."
"You couldn't have seen anything anyway," Harli pointed out, resting his hand on the edge of the command room's power-control console and trying not to let the weirdness of the sideways room get to him. He hadn't spent much time inside the downed ship, and he'd never gotten used to walking on bulkheads while decks and ceilings pretended to be walls. Or looking up at consoles and control panels jutting out from those walls, or maneuvering through doors that were now wide slits halfway up the walls. "The wing would have blocked your view."
"I know," Popescu said. "But it would have been nice to think about."
"Dream on," Kemp said, stepping around a circuit-test setup that someone had left behind and crossing over to Harli. "Everyone ready?" he asked quietly.
"As ready as we can be," Harli said. Which, he admitted silently, wasn't very much. "There's really only one door they can come at us through, assuming they don't want to launch their assault from hovering aircars or long ladders. I've got a layered defense down there, and Whistler's doing what he can to put a few barriers in place. I've also got some small booby-traps on the other two doors, just in case they decide they like aircar assaults."
