Counterattack

by Scott H Washburn

  Images sent from the artificial satellite showed that the defenses on the landward side, while not as formidable as the cast-stone walls along the river, still could not be discounted. There were several small fortresses, which were made from the cast stone and mounted large weapons, and these were linked by trenches where the foot-warriors and the smaller projectile throwers could take refuge.

  Tanbradjus reported that although it was continuing the diversionary attack, there was clear evidence that the enemy was moving forces eastward, back across the river into the city. Those forces would no doubt be moving to reinforce the northern defense lines.

  “Commander, we are crossing one of the prey-creatures’ transport tracks and a strange vehicle is approaching along it.” The communication was from Battlegroup 32-6, on the left flank.

  “Relay an image.”

  The subordinate did so and Qetjnegartis saw what at first appeared to be one of the steam powered transport engines towing a string of other vehicles, as was normal. But on closer examination it realized that all the vehicles were armored and many of them mounted weapons. Indeed, they began firing almost at once. The battlegroup responded immediately and the strange vehicle was quickly reduced to wreckage, but not before it had destroyed a fighting machine. The operator was rescued, but as there were no reserve machines available, it had to be kept in a transport pod in hopes that it would survive the battle. There was no chance of sending it to the rear, as there was no rear in this fight.

  Some of the habitation centers they passed had prey-creature warriors inside them. These fired their small weapons, even though they had little hope of doing any damage. Qetjnegartis ordered that the structures be set afire from a distance and that no attempt be made to destroy every last creature. They could not afford the time. Soon, hundreds of burning structures marked their passage. Clumps of vegetation were similarly dealt with. The scouts had discovered and mapped areas where the ground was especially soft and these places were avoided.

  Shortly after the encounter with the armored transport machine, Battlegroup 32-4 discovered a base for the prey-creatures’ flying machines. Over fifty of the machines were lined up on the ground or preparing to take to the air. On the ground, the flimsy devices were completely defenseless and all were destroyed in moments. That was very good, although other flying machines were already in the air overhead, and there would certainly be more arriving if past battles were any indication. They needed to press on to the city before they did.

  The pace of the drones slowed their progress and the sun was far up in the sky by the time the outer line of the city’s defenses came into view. The scouts had done their jobs well and most of the heavy weapons positions had been plotted. Only two of the cast stone forts were on the northern side, and Qetjnegartis decided that the easternmost one could be ignored.

  “Battlegroups 32-9 and 32-11, you shall engage the other fort and keep it occupied. Battlegroup 32-4, you shall protect our right flank. All other battlegroups will concentrate and strike in the area to the west of the fort. Any machine becoming immobilized or disabled shall be left behind, your orders are to press into the city as quickly as possible. Use the eradicator against the heavy weapons positions. Battlegroup 32-14 shall bring up the rear and assist those in need of help. Take up your positions and commence the attack on my command.”

  The components of the force moved into their spots quickly and precisely, with only the smallest amount of confusion with the drones. Not every drone operator was fully proficient yet, and it was as Ixmaderna had once said: the younger operators seemed to be the best at this. Even so, soon all was ready and Qetjnegartis gave the order to attack.

  The battlegroups sent to engage the fort quickly had it so blanketed with the eradicator dust that almost no fire was coming from it, and they had only lost two machines in the process. A force of drones was sent to see if it could be silenced permanently. All the others, with Qetjnegartis following along, pressed ahead against the defensive lines. Projectiles fell all around them like one of the local precipitation storms, and a number of fighting machines and drones were destroyed. But the rest kept moving.

  As it had feared, once they were within a telequel of the enemy positions, they began to encounter the pit traps set to snare the legs of the fighting machines. Most were cleverly hidden and constructed so that a drone or, presumably the prey-creatures themselves, could cross without triggering them. But when a fighting machine put its weight down on one, its leg would crash through and be caught. Qetjnegartis could not see any easy way of dealing with these, or at least none that would not delay an advance just as much as the traps themselves.

  As it had ordered, those which became immobilized were left to fend for themselves, even though they became excellent targets for the enemy weapons. Assigning others to assist would just make both easy targets. The surest way to help them would be to destroy the prey-creature weapons as quickly as possible. This the attacking force did, moving forward and opening fire with their heat rays. Eradicator projectiles were fired against known weapon positions.

  There were more traps immediately in front of the enemy trenches and a ditch filled with water. A score or more machines became trapped or mired in the mud at the bottom of the ditch, but the rest pulled themselves up and over, sweeping the defenses with their heat rays. A number of fully enclosed bunkers held out for a while, but those in the trenches were annihilated.

  But not before they did considerable damage. The explosive bombs which the prey had been using for some time destroyed or damaged a number of machines, but perhaps more alarming was a new weapon, first encountered in small numbers at City 3-118 and in larger numbers by Clan Mavnaltak at City 3-4. It was a small device, small enough that it could be carried by a single prey-creature. It appeared to fire some sort of rocket-propelled projectile which could explode with a force similar to those fired by the much larger weapons the enemy used. A single shot could rarely do serious damage to a fighting machine, but multiple hits were capable of bringing one down; and even a single shot proved sufficient to destroy the drones.

  To Qetjnegartis’ relief, there were none of the armored gun vehicles waiting in reserve as was so often the case. The prey had learned that the best response to an assault was to mass all of their vehicles for an immediate counterattack. But there were none here now, another success for the diversionary attack.

  A half telequel of open ground lay ahead, between the defenses and the structures of the city. A few weapon positions and some fleeting prey could be seen, but little else.

  “Continue the advance,” commanded Qetjnegartis. “Drive through the city to the bridge over the river. Destroy everything you can, but do not delay your progress. We must move quickly.”

  * * * * *

  July, 1912, Memphis, Tennessee

  “Rebecca, we’ve finally been given orders to evacuate. Can you and your girls help?”

  Becca Harding had been staring north. The hospital had been built on the northern outskirts of Memphis and about a mile south of the defense lines. A stand of trees blocked a direct view to the north, but the sounds of fighting had been growing louder for the past hour, and clouds of black smoke had been billowing up above the trees for a while. The Martians were clearly there and getting closer. She turned and saw that it was Miss Chumley who has spoken.

  “Well it’s certainly about time! Those monsters could be here in five minutes!”

  “I know, I know,” replied Chumley. “We’re loading the wounded into ambulances and wagons, but we could use some help.”

  “All right, you’ve got it. Sarah! Get the girls! We’ve got a job to do!” Sarah Halberstam, who was acting as her company sergeant, immediately rounded up the sharpshooters who had been watching the smoke just like everyone else. She brought them over to Becca. “Ladies, the hospital is being evacuated. We need to help load the wounded. And we’ll probably be pulling out along with them, so keep all your gear handy. There’s not much time, so move it!”r />
  Rather than being annoyed or sullen, as Becca had feared, the women looked relieved and happy to have an actual task to do. They’d been ordered here, there, and everywhere with no apparent purpose so many times that a clear job was welcome. They stacked their rifles and went inside the hospital tents and buildings and started hauling out the wounded men on stretchers. It usually took four of them for each stretcher, but they did it and loaded the men into the ambulances.

  It quickly became apparent that there weren’t going to be enough vehicles for all the patients. They pulled aside those who were able to walk and made them do so, marching alongside the wagons. Becca spotted Moses with his wagon and waved to him. “Mo! We’re gonna need you here!” The man jogged over to her.

  “Yes, Miz Becca?”

  “Dump all the junk you’ve got in the back! I need you to carry some wounded!”

  “But that’s all the ladies’ things!” he protested. “Your tent, too.”

  “Dump it! There’s more important things to carry.”

  Moses nodded. “I reckon you’re right, miz.” He pointed off to a column of smoke in the distance. “I’m guessin’ that’s the Oswald place. Nuthin’ to go back to anyways. Only people matter now.”

  “That’s right, only people.” She hesitated. “When you go, take Ninny along with you.”

  Moses stared at her. “You sure ‘bout that, Miz Becca?”

  “Yeah. He’s people, too. Keep him safe, will you?”

  “Do my level best, Miz.”

  “Good. Take the wagon over there and load it up.”

  “Yes’m. Uh, where am I takin’ ‘em?”

  “Just follow the others. Do what they tell you.” Moses nodded and went back to his rig. Ninny was tied nearby and the man retied his lead to the back of the wagon. Becca wondered if she’d ever see him again. But he had no business here…

  A sudden roar off to her left made her spin around. While she’d been working, an army field battery had unlimbered on some open ground just a hundred yards away and was now firing at something. She couldn’t see what, but the noise of battle was closer than ever. They didn’t have much time left.

  While she was searching through the camp, looking for anyone who might have been missed, she saw a horse-drawn ambulance coming up from the west. She ran over to it. “The hospital’s being evacuated! You have any room for more?”

  “Yeah,” said the driver. “Only carrying one guy. Where they taking the wounded now?”

  “Not sure. Railroad depot, probably. Just head south into town as soon as we get you loaded. Sarah! We got room for a couple more here!” She went around to the back and opened the door. As the driver had said, there was just a single occupant; a young man with his arm in a sling and a grotesque lump on his shoulder. No, that was his shoulder. It had been dislocated and needed to be popped back into its socket. She could do that, but there was no time. “Sorry, but you have to move over, we need to get more people in here.”

  “R-Rebecca?”

  She twitched and looked closer. Did she know this fellow? His face did look familiar, even twisted in pain and covered with dirt. Suddenly she recognized him. “Commander Harding! What are you doing here?”

  “Don’t know, ‘cause I don’t know where here is.”

  “You’re at the general military hospital, but we’re evacuating. How did you get here?”

  “Lost my ship. Ended up in the river. Crawled ashore. After that, I don’t know.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. Her girls were there with another stretcher. “Well, no time to talk now. We’ll get you to someplace they can fix you up.” She stood aside while the ambulance was filled up and then it lurched away.

  “I think that’s all, Becca.” She turned and saw Sarah Halberstam. “They’re all on their way, all the patients and staff are gone.”

  “Good. Let’s grab our stuff and get along after them. We’ll escort them all the way to…”

  “Look! Oh God, look!”

  Becca spun around and immediately saw what had caused the shout. Beyond the trees was a Martian tripod. No, two of them. Three. Maybe more. Still a quarter mile off, but heading this way. “Come on!” she shouted. “Move!” She led the way toward where their rifles and backpacks were stacked.

  There was a mad scramble to grab all their stuff. Becca had left hers to the side so she had it immediately, but the others took precious seconds. She ran a few dozen steps to the south, looking for the best route of escape. The outskirts of the city started just beyond the hospital, but they were all low wooden houses. Not much cover, they’d have to…

  The artillery battery off to the left roared again, and an odd, metallic sound made her look back. They’d hit one of the tripods! The closest one was staggering around, smoke pouring from its head, and then it fell with a crash, disappearing behind the trees. That’s gonna make them mad… “Come on! Move!” she screamed.

  The women came running and she let half of them pass before following along. “Just keep going! Straight for the town!”

  A strange wumpf sound had her looking back again. Something flew from one of the tripods and soared over toward the guns where it burst in an inky black cloud. It spread out and the wind blew it in her direction. An icy chill spread through her despite the July heat.

  “Dust! Black dust! Get your masks and gloves on!” She instantly tore open the canvas bag hanging from her neck. She pulled out the mask and hood, threw away her hat and pulled the apparatus over her head. The hood covered her head completely and extended down around her neck with a cinch-cord to close it tight around her collar. There were two round eye pieces to see through and a bulky filter to allow her to breathe. Two leather gloves, almost like a cavalryman’s long gauntlets, completed the outfit. She looked down to make sure her trousers were tucked into her boots.

  Then she looked up and the black dust was nearly upon them. A large hospital tent stood a dozen yards away. It would not provide complete protection, but it was better than nothing. “The tent! Get inside! Hurry!” She started pushing the women toward it.

  “Abigail! Come on!” Sarah Halberstam suddenly looked back and shouted.

  Becca turned and there was Abigail LaPlace standing frozen, hands clutching the unopened bag holding her dust gear, looking at the cloud of death sweeping toward her. She shoved Sarah toward shelter and leapt back to grab Abigail. The girl was as rigid as a statue; Becca hauled her to the tent.

  But it was too late.

  The dust, like some swarm of tiny locusts, swirled around them, so thickly she could barely see the tent only a few paces away. With one last surge she dragged them both through the flaps inside where the others were clustered. Abigail was screaming and fell to the ground.

  Becca had seen dust victims before, but never like this. Anyone caught fully in a cloud with no protection never reached the hospital. Abigail had the dust all over her. On her clothes, in her hair, on her face, and hands. Tiny black specks like coal dust. She lay on the ground thrashing and shrieking, her eyes squeezed shut. Her hands came up and started to tear at her face.

  Becca fell to her knees and grabbed Abigail’s wrists, trying to keep her from hurting herself. But it was no use, the dust was starting to eat into the skin. Her screams were interrupted by gasping coughs, and foam, flecked with red and black, started spitting out of her mouth. Becca could hear more screams, muffled by dust masks and realized it was the other women.

  “Do something!” shouted one of them.

  But there was nothing that could be done. The horror went on for what seemed an eternity, but which probably wasn’t more than a minute, until the girl suddenly went stiff and then collapsed. Not screaming, not breathing, her face a terrible mass of black and red.

  Shaking, Becca stood up. The others were crying and sobbing and one of them was clawing at the tie holding her mask. “Leave that on!” she shouted. But the woman lifted it up far enough to vomit, before tugging it back into place. Becca grabbed a blanket
off a cot and threw it over Abigail.

  The shriek of a heat ray and a red light glowing through the tent’s canvas reminded her where they were. “Come on! We can’t stay here! Grab your stuff and let’s go!”

  “You’ve got dust all over you, Becca!” said someone, it sounded like Sarah.

  “I know. I’ll deal with that later! Come on!” She peered out of the tent and the black cloud was gone, blown along with the westerly breeze. There was dust all over the ground, but there was no choice. She hustled them out of the tent and saw a tripod not two hundred yards away. Its heat ray was sweeping across the first row of tents and shacks on the edge of the hospital, sending them up in flames. Becca turned in the opposite direction and they fled into the town.

  * * * * *

  July, 1912, Memphis, Tennessee

  “Looks like a helluva mess ahead, Captain!” Lieutenant Lynnbrooke turned in his saddle and looked back at Frank Dolfen. “Not sure we can get through here!”

  Dolfen stood up in his stirrups and saw what his aide was talking about. The street ahead was jammed with wagons, trucks, and people on foot, all heading south. They might be able to get the horses and motorcycles through on the sidewalks, but the armored cars would never make it. They’d have to take a different route…

  Wait a minute…

  Squinting, he saw that some of the vehicles in the oncoming column had large red crosses on the side. Ambulances! Having no definite orders beyond heading north and engaging whatever enemy he found, he’d been deliberately leading his squadron in the direction of Becca’s hospital in hopes that she might be there. He’d led them over to Ayres Street which went to the hospital, but it now looked as though the hospital was coming to him. He realized it was ridiculous to be worrying about one girl in all this madness, but he couldn’t help it.

  “Lynnbrooke! Take the squadron west a block or two and find a route north. I’ll rejoin you up ahead.”