by P. R. Adams
Like Naru had said, this place didn’t have a network to keep everyone up to date.
They kept the river in sight, using its dark, snaking shape as a guide as much as a form of protection for their flank. Nothing was going to cross through the deep water without them hearing it. The night continued to grow colder and didn’t seem as humid once out of the woods. And it was certainly quieter. There was strange chirping coming from the grass, but whatever made the noise wasn’t aggressive.
A couple hours out from the woods, Javika threw a hand up before sinking into the grass. Riyun smelled smoke, but it took him a second to spot the glow of a fire: a camp.
A camp made by idiots.
Or very confident people. Like slave-hunters.
He crept closer to her position, until he could whisper. “You scout, I’ll warn the others.”
She nodded once, then crept away. Riyun fell back to Hirvok’s position, waving the rest down into the grass before squatting beside the sergeant. “A camp up ahead.”
Hirvok’s head jerked up to the sky. “Would’ve been nice for some cloud cover.”
“We weren’t spotted.”
“But we’ve been leaving a trail. Come morning, a blind man could see where we came from.”
Slave-hunters would almost certainly have trackers. Would they go into the woods? Would they follow any trail the squad left? “We can be more cautious, make it look like we crossed the river.”
“Or we could kill these people.”
“Killing slave-hunters wouldn’t bother me.”
“Slave-hunters? You got that from the survivor?”
“Yeah. Apparently, these people speak some sort of computer language.”
“Who told you that? Quil?”
“Naru was the one who identified it. Quil just happened to have read about it.”
“Read about it.” The sergeant snorted. “Is there anything he doesn’t read about?”
“Reading has value. Maybe you should give it a try one day.”
“Maybe you should give leadership a try one day.”
Riyun sighed. “We don’t have time for arguing, Hirvok.”
The sergeant tensed, then relaxed. “You know the big guy can’t go all night. He’s sweating out pounds. We need to distribute his load.”
“I know. That makes it even more important for us to avoid that camp.”
“I’ll take Symbra across the river, make it look like we headed to the other side. You radio me when you get around them. We’ll catch up.”
“Be careful.”
“Yeah, yeah. Little Miss Onath is a rookie. I know.”
Riyun kept low as he moved from Quil to Naru then to Lonar and Tawod. Each was briefed on the plan and walked through their assignments. If they could get around the camp undetected, they would. Not leaving a trail was more important than speed. They needed to be alert and ready for anything.
Quil led Naru and Tawod away, leaving Riyun to chat with Lonar. The big man was wheezing and sweating profusely. His duster was dark with moisture. Mud dulled the silvery shine of his armor.
Riyun nodded toward the river. “You want to cool off?”
“Nah. I’m good, Lieutenant.”
“Your wetware still hasn’t reset?”
The tweak ran the back of a gloved hand over his brow. “It will. Must just be struggling with all the craziness.”
“We need you in this, Lonar.”
“I’m here, Lieutenant. I’m in it.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.”
Lonar smiled—warm and sincere despite the obvious fatigue on his face. He was the sort who always gave as much as he could, one of the most reliable mercenaries Riyun had ever known. If there were only two people he could have at his back, it would be Javika and the tweak.
But he was fading. Riyun held out a hand. “Give me your backpack.”
“I—”
“Now. You keep the autocannon. We’ll distribute the rest.”
It was no doubt seen as a sign of weakness, but Lonar finally shrugged off his huge backpack. Riyun tried not to let the strain show when he took it. He would spread the weight around to the others, but the backpack was a reminder of just how vital a role the big man played for the team.
They needed to move, so Riyun took the lead. He listened for any radio chatter. Grass whispered against his boots as he cautiously advanced, crouched so that he would present a minimal silhouette. Behind him, the big man did his best to do the same. They kept the glow of the fire off to their left as they headed for a small copse of trees. At one point, Riyun froze and cocked his head, straining to hear what might have been the snap of dry grass.
Then he saw a dark form moving through the long stalks in front and to his left.
Someone was just ahead, coming toward them.
Lonar almost bowled Riyun over. The lieutenant brought a finger up to his lips before the brute could say something. The big man blinked and crouched lower.
Riyun drew his knife. And waited.
A kill so close to the camp would have to be instantaneous. They wouldn’t be able to do anything about the blood. And the body…
The form drew closer.
There was no choice; Riyun readied for the leap and blow.
The form was almost on top of him, then it stopped.
Had it seen them? Had it heard them? It moved away and stopped again.
Riyun tensed and swallowed. He would have to close at a sprint if the person called out for help.
But the form moved away, stopping barely within sight.
It sounded like water dripped, then like a small waterfall, followed by a relieved groan.
The sound seemed to go on and on, and Lonar began to shudder from the strain of squatting. He slowly took a knee and set a hand on the ground. It was the right call, but it was something the big man would never have done before. His wetware was toast.
The slave-hunter finished up and headed back to his place in the firelit clearing. After a few seconds, Riyun and Lonar returned to their circuit wide of the camp. On the side opposite the river, they met up with Quil, Naru, and Tawod. The three of them had put the trees between them and the camp.
Javika dropped from the branches as Riyun came to a stop. She studied Lonar for a second, then nodded toward the distant fire glow. “Twelve of them. Four look like scouts.”
That would be in the way they dressed and carried themselves. The scouts would be away from the fire; they would be watching their surroundings from the perimeter. The hunters would probably be focused on the minutiae of the job: preparing food, checking their weapons, readying for sleep. Or they would just be talking obliviously.
But how good would they be? Riyun couldn’t count on this world being the same as his own. When a pseudo went rogue and escaped, the mercenaries sent in pursuit were rarely the best. There were so many ways for a pseudo to trip up and be caught that hunters were an afterthought.
Here? If the slaves had just made it to this Yagath, they would have been free. Or at least that’s what they believed.
Riyun pulled his helmet from his belt. “Any chance they won’t spot our trail?”
The Biwali warrior glanced back the way he’d come. “It is possible. If they move while it is still dark in the morning.”
“Good enough.” He slid his helmet on and connected to Hirvok. “Hirvok?”
A hiss echoed back in reply.
No network. The range of their radios would be diminished.
He increased the power output and tried again. “Hirvok?”
The hiss was the only answer.
Riyun took his helmet off. “Hirvok and Symbra crossed the river to create a false trail to draw them off. We’re out of range for the radios without a network.”
“I will retrieve them.” Javika indicated an angle about sixty degrees off rather than straight away from the camp. “Go that way. Keep the trees between you and them. We will meet up with you.”
“All right. Be careful.
”
The wiry assassin took a step, then stopped. “Lonar’s wetware is broken?”
“Yeah.”
“He will not make it.”
“The temperature’s dropping. We’ve lightened his load. He’s doing better.” But Riyun couldn’t kid himself, and Javika wasn’t about to let him.
She slipped away at something approaching a jog, disappearing with frightening ease. He gathered the others up and took point. Once they were far enough away from the hunter camp, he picked up the pace. If Lonar was going to die, better it be now than later.
But the big man kept up. He wheezed and weaved and had to take a few rests, but he didn’t complain once. After a while, Riyun veered back until they were moving parallel to the river again.
He brought them to a stop when the dark shapes of the town came into view. There were maybe thirty structures spread over a wide area. In the moonlight, he could make out rough sizes and shapes. There were farm fields somewhere nearby, and the smell of manure was strong.
Quil settled to a knee a few feet away. “The town the slaves escaped from.”
“That’s my guess.”
“There are farms nearby. There would be a well or maybe something drawing from the river.”
“We’re not going in there.”
“They would have food. Something better than the lizard meat.”
“We haven’t even had a chance to do it up nice yet. It might be the best thing you’ve ever had with some seasoning.”
The pseudo nodded distractedly. “We could burn the town to the ground. It would eliminate a possible threat.”
Riyun winced. “We don’t know that everyone there was involved in this. There might be some good people in there.”
“My concern was with the numbers. The odds.”
“I appreciate that. The odds are really in our favor if we steer clear of it. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Riyun retraced their steps several hundred feet and marked a new course so Javika and the others would keep a safe distance from the town. He didn’t like having the team spread out so far, but Javika and Hirvok knew their way through any terrain. They would catch up.
Still, there was no need to push so hard now. Riyun slowed the pace. He was grateful for the gentle downslope grade, which made it easier on everyone—especially Lonar.
They continued on until he spotted the walls of the city, black in the last of the moonlight. It had to be Yagath. In a place like this, settlements would be far apart. They’d covered maybe ten miles since the town. It would be dawn soon.
Riyun slipped his helmet on and used the telescopic optic system to study the walls. There were thick gates, parapets, crenellations, and towers. And guards. Fires burned in what must have been braziers or pots. A few structures rose higher than the walls: towers. He estimated the walls were thirty feet high. Even from a distance, and at night, they gave off a sense of solidity and strength. The place was easily twice the size of the town. It seemed likely to be much more than that.
He needed Javika. She could climb the walls with ease and do so without concern of being spotted. Her scouting would have to wait. Although he could make it over the wall, and it was possible Quil could, there was no chance Lonar could, and the odds of Naru and Tawod making it didn’t look good either.
So they would wait.
Quil crawled to Riyun’s position. “You have a moment, Lieutenant?”
“I’ve got a lot of moments.” Riyun slipped his helmet off.
“I do not believe that I have ever expressed thoroughly enough my appreciation for what you did for me.”
“I haven’t done anything yet, Quil. I will. When the money—”
“I understand. But you are the only person who has ever shown…”
Riyun grunted. He understood the young man’s feelings on the matter. “You’re part of this family. You understand that?”
The pseudo nodded. “It is good to have family.” His voice broke.
“They’ll always be there for you. Always, Quil.”
“Thank you.” Quil cleared his throat. “We intend to enter the city?”
“We do. In the morning, when they open those gates.”
“What if Javika and the others have yet to reach us?”
“They’ll be here.” But as the sky began to take on the first hints of color and light, Riyun’s confidence in his team began to slip. “They have some buildings higher than those walls. Towers, at least from the looks of it.”
“I have begun to question the idea that this is truly Wholesale Fantasy.”
“Oh?” Riyun cocked an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“There are elements in what we have seen that make me think of periods in history rather than fantasy.”
“You don’t think they would have historical influence with the fantasy? Is that something from these games?”
“Games are one of the things that I have not studied adequately. It is possible, I suppose. Perhaps Naru would be able to answer that better.”
“Let’s assume that city is based on something historical. Maybe there’s some sort of fantasy to it, too. How do we fit in?”
“We can speak the language. They have been conditioned to accept our armor as normal—armor that is based on historical armor. The influences are intentional.”
That was a development driven by the Silvers, always concerned with maintaining their legacy. Mercenaries wore armor that was influenced by eons-old conquerors. Sometimes, that rankled Riyun. “So, we don’t draw attention?”
“Not unless we wish to.”
“No. The last thing we want is attention.”
“Then, depending on which era of history modeled here, we should be able to seek out a library.”
“A library.”
“Perhaps a university. In some eras, knowledge was maintained by the nobles. It helped to concentrate power and wealth.”
Of course it would. The Onath—the families of power that had spread with the colonization of other worlds—had always been focused on concentrating wealth and influence. People like his family and the people of his world had been insignificant. They had come to the planet as settlers, hoping to make a new life free from the Inner Sphere, and they had found a planet that broke the spirit as easily as it broke the body. The story was the same all throughout the Outer Sphere. If a planet proved worthwhile to colonize and offered some form of wealth for exploitation, the powerful families and their corporations moved in.
And always, it was the Onath elite—the Silvers—who most benefited.
Armor clattered, and Naru appeared, belly-crawling toward Riyun. “They’re coming.” She pointed back to the route they’d taken. “I saw movement.”
Riyun twisted around until he could make out the river and low grass that grew near it. He spotted blades swaying after a few seconds. His people. At least one of them.
And then a second.
They weren’t trying to hide themselves now. Javika’s long, lean form rose from a hunch.
He sat up and waved them in. They still had a little time before the real dawn came, and now he had his people back together.
Hirvok dropped onto his belly on Riyun’s left-hand side. “Thanks.”
It could have been more of the sergeant’s sarcasm, but it sounded sincere, possibly because of the strain in his voice. “It’s good to have you back.”
“I wasn’t sure we would make it.”
“I was.”
The sergeant seemed to chuckle. “I was kind of impressed by Symbra. She did better than the big guy’s doing.”
“She’s not going to give up. Neither is he.”
“It won’t be about him giving up. He’s just not going to make it. I don’t think Tawod and Naru are going to either.”
Riyun gritted his teeth. There were times when he absolutely loathed Hirvok, but there were also times when the sergeant’s brutal assessments provided necessary reality checks. “Get some rest.”
Hirvok pinched his nose. “They’re too soft. This place is too—”
“I’m not losing anyone, Hirvok. Now get some rest.”
Rather than give the sergeant an opportunity to extend the argument, Riyun strode away, whispering encouragement to anyone still awake and telling them to take a nap. He could use one himself. After all they’d been through, he was barely able to keep his eyes open.
But how could he sleep? After what Hirvok had said, how could anyone sleep?
All Riyun wanted to do was get his people back home, but a part of him knew there was no way he could save everyone.
He wasn’t even sure he could save himself.
19
With the sunrise, Yagath’s gates opened, and Riyun led the team inside the city walls. Closer in, those walls seemed a little less imposing, the gate a little less impenetrable. The guards looking down were just humans in armor walking the ramparts. Their weapons were primitive—spears and short swords. It was no doubt good enough to impress the simple people of the city, but Riyun wasn’t a local, and he wasn’t simple.
The streets were busy with foot traffic and carts. Naru and Quil bracketed Riyun, while the others did their best to maintain a short distance.
Quil nodded at the buildings on either side of the street. “The architecture is from the Chaldredin era. Note the steep angles to the roofs and the predominance of gabled windows.”
A wet plop and the whiff of excrement slopping to the ground caught Riyun’s attention. He grabbed the pseudo’s shoulders and guided him around a spreading, dark puddle one of the beasts of burden had just deposited. “There’s also a predominance of animal shit. Might want to watch for that.”
“I had missed that.” Quil’s attention turned to the foot traffic and carts on the street. “The same clothing as the slaves.”
“Nicer, though.”
“Yes.” The pseudo’s eyes narrowed. “Why would there be so few animals drawing carts?”
“Those look a lot like the taajin I remember from my childhood. They require a lot of care, and they eat a lot. Most of these carts are small. It’s easier to draw one around yourself.”
