by Ben Bova
"And what would your military genius suggest?" When Kobol became angry or upset his voice ascended from its normal irritable nasal tone into a positively adenoidal whine.
Alec glanced up at him. "We have an advantage in numbers. Let's use it! We'll attack over a broad front, spread Douglas's troops thin trying to defend such a large area. Bypass the firebases and strongpoints ..."
"And have them chop us to shreds?" Kobol flared.
"They can't. I've seen what they've got there. No more than ten rounds apiece for most of the heavy guns. They'll shell us until they're out of ammunition, then they'll either have to come out and engage us in small groups or sit on their hilltops and wait until we come after them."
Kobol said nothing, but his head was rocking back and forth in an unspoken negative.
"The firebases can discourage small attacks,"
Alec went on, "or attacks that are so concentrated that a few high-explosive shells can tear the attackers apart. But a broad, thin screen of attackers, moving quickly and staying as far away from the firebases as they can, will make the firebases almost useless."
"Makes sense," muttered one of Kobol's men, sitting on the bench beside him.
"If he's right about the ammunition they have for their guns."
"I'm right" Alec snapped. "If it'll make you feel any better, we can grab a couple of the closest firebases the night before the attack. But the others, deeper inside Douglas's territory, we should bypass."
Kobol shook his head more negatively. "I don't like leaving pockets of enemy troops in our rear. They'll be fully armed and able to . . ."
Alec slammed a fist on the table. "Dammit, what's our objective? Capturing hilltops or Douglas's headquarters? Here's what we're after!"
He jabbed a finger at the base. "If we inch along one hill at a time, he can bleed us white and spend all summer delaying us while he gathers strength from the farther countryside. By next autumn we'll be surrounded and starving. We've got to strike hard and fast. Here." He touched the base area again.
"And those men in the strongpoints will just sit where they are and let us walk in?"
"That's right," Alec insisted. "There's only ten or so men in each post. No more than twenty apiece. But they're heavily armed. If we try to attack them, they can hold us up until Douglas brings his reserves onto the scene. But if we bypass them, what can a dozen or two men do to a whole column of troops? If they come down from their hilltops to attack us, they'll be cut to pieces."
"They still have that artillery."
"After the first half hour of fighting, the artillery will be out of ammo."
"They could still knock off a lot of trucks and men."
"Not if we move fast and stay spread out."
"I don't know . . ." Kobol hesitated.
More quietly, Alec said, "I do know. We're going to do it this way. We can win quickly and with low casualties." The back of his mind was whispering, And I can get to Angela before anyone else does.
Kobol was staring at him, eyes glittering, "It's not your decision to make."
"Yes it is."
His hands spread flat on the map, as if to ensure ownership, Kobol said, "You can't possibly assume that you're still . . ."
"I'm in command," Alec said evenly. "No one has relieved me of command. You'll take orders from me, Martin."
Kobol tried to laugh, but it froze in his throat.
His mouth twitched. He glanced at the men sitting on either side of him, facing Alec.
Alec said nothing. For a long wordless minute they sat glaring at each other; Alec with his two youngsters and Kobol with his men flanking him.
"I think Alec's plan will work," Jameson said.
He was still leaning against the hatchway. The gun at his hip loomed enormous. He was slightly turned, facing Kobol, gunhand free and resting easily at his side.
"The men I've assembled don't know you,"
Kobol said to Alec. "They won't take orders from you."
"They know me," Jameson said flatly. "They'll follow where I lead them."
Kobol glowered at Jameson and let his breath out in a hiss of frustrated rage. "So that's the way it's going to be."
"That's the way it is," Jameson answered, calm as a hawk circling its prey.
Alec said, "To prevent any misunderstandings, Martin, I think you'd better stay with me until the army gets here. Ron, you take this boat back and assume command of the troops."
A smile flickered across Jameson's face.
"You're giving them a lot more dignity than they deserve. They're not troops, they're just a big gang. Hardly any discipline. They're coming up here for the spoils. They'll fight your way, Alec. But they'd never stand up in a toe-to-toe battle."
"Whatever you want to call them, then" Alec said. "Get back to them and move them up here. As soon as the ground's dry enough to maneuver, we attack."
"And when you get back to the settlement,"
Kobol spat, "I'll have you executed. I'll make your mother sign your death warrant!"
Alec smiled at him. "That's assuming that you make it back to the settlement, Martin."
Chapter 26
The rain was steady, heavy, and driven by a numbingly cold wind. The ground beneath the horse's hooves was unending mud that made obscene sucking noises with each laborious step. The horse was big, powerful, uncomplaining, but it could not go much farther without rest, Alec knew.
Still he pressed on, urging the horse forward with his boots. He was heavily muffled inside a leather coat and hood but the wetness had seeped into him until he felt that icewater was trickling through his veins.
Squinting through the rain and mist, Alec saw that the little stream he had reached had turned into a churning, brown foaming channel that carried tree branches and other debris madly onward.
Won't be able to ford that, he knew.
"Ho-ho!" a familiar voice called. "There you are."
Turning slightly in the rain-slicked saddle, Alec saw Will Russo's bulky form pacing slowly out of the mist, leading a droopy-headed horse step by sloshing step through the mud.
"How did you cross the stream?" Alec blurted.
"Oh, further up. It's not so bad up there."
Alec slid off his horse and walked, with an effort, toward the advancing man. "Is your wound all healed up?" he asked.
Will nodded and a thatch of red hair, glistening with dampness, flopped down from under his hood. "Oh sure, been fine for months now. I got back to Utica and, by golly, the rest of the whisky was still there. You?"
"I'm okay."
Will grinned at him. "For a fish. Look, there's a little cave a bit further upstream. Let's get out of this weather."
They led the horses through the mud and rain for a few minutes and found the cave. It was more of a purposely dug shelter in the hillside than a natural cleft. The inner walls were smooth and even, Alec noticed, as he made a mental note of its location and size.
"I was glad to get the message your scout gave our scout," Will said once they had pulled the horses inside the narrow shelter. "I was worried about you, you know."
Alec was unbuttoning his coat. "Nothing in here for a fire . . ."
"That's okay." Will rummaged through the pockets of his voluminous coat. "Brought a little . . . aha! Here it is." He produced a small dark green bottle. "Saved you some of the whisky."
They both took long pulls from the bottle. Alec could feel the liquor burning out the dampness inside him.
"Well," Will said, as pleasantly as if they were lounging together on the Moon, "what did you want to talk about? Not the weather, I suppose?"
Alec laughed. "No, not that." Then, more seriously, "You know what's going to happen when the ground hardens, don't you?"
Will tried to erase the smile on his face, but he was only partially successful. "Yep. Kobol's bringing a whole raft of raiders and swamp-runners up here to attack us. It's been tried before."
"You don't have to look so damned cheerful about it!" Alec s
napped.
"Should I run away and hide? Look, we've been through this kind of thing before. Why, the first winter Douglas and I . . ."
"You've never seen an army this big," Alec interrupted. "And they'll be better armed than any gang that's been put together since the sky burned."
"H'mm. Well. Is that what you came to tell me?"
"I want you to get out before the fighting starts. Take Angela with you. I don't want either of you hurt."
"Leave Douglas? She'd never do that. Neither would I."
"You've got to!" Alec insisted. "There's no way for you to help him now. He's the reason for the fighting, he's the one they're going to be after. If we can get him without risking your lives . . ."
But Will was shaking his head. "You don't understand, Alec. I can't leave Douglas. I'd sooner chop off my arm. My drinking arm! We're friends, closer than brothers, really."
Alec said nothing.
"It's really Angela you're worried about, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"She's worried about you, too. She was damned sore when you left without even telling her you were going. I think she would have gone with you, I really do."
"That's why I didn't tell her," Alec said.
"Well, all that's in the past. She surely won't go anywhere now. She'd never leave Douglas, not with all this trouble brewing up . . ." A thought seemed to strike him. "Unless . . ."
"Unless what?"
Will grinned as he answered, "Well, maybe if you were there at the base, helping us to fight off these riff-raff of Kobol's, then if things got really bad you could get her out and get to someplace safe."
Alec stared at him. He's not putting me on He really believes what he just said.
"Will," Alec said softly, "don't you realize that I can't fight on Douglas's side?"
"Oh, I don't know. There are a lot of things you don't realize, even yet. He tried damned hard for a lot of years to get them to listen to reason back at the settlement. He didn't just decide to go off and make a kingdom for himself here on Earth. He was pushed. By Kobol and the others."
"The others?"
"Other members of the Council. Douglas was pushed out of power by those he trusted most. Those he loved most, too."
"Meaning my mother."
Completely serious now, Will nodded. "Alec, you probably won't believe me, and you may end up hating me for even saying it, but . . . well, by golly, your mother helped to push Douglas into doing what he did. She knew he had no choice. She gave him nothing to return to, and they both knew it when he left for Earth. She didn't want him back."
The coldness congealed over Alec again. "You're right," he said, deadly soft. "I don't believe you."
The big redhead made a helpless gesture with his hands. "It's the truth."
"I'm sure it's what he told you. But it's not the truth. I'll never believe it. Never."
"That's a . . . shame."
"There's something you ought to know, Will,"
Alec said. "I'm not just joining with Kobol's forces. I'm leading them. I'm in command."
"I was afraid of that."
"Why?"
"Because we're going to have to try to kill each other. And we're friends."
"That's why I want you to get away. And take her with you."
"No, I can't do that. He's my friend too. And your father."
"I'm coming after him. Don't stand in my way. Don't try to protect him."
Sadly, in a voice so low that Alec barely heard it, Will said, "Don't make me choose between you and him, Alec. You'll lose."
"We've already made our choices," Alec said.
"They were made twenty years ago."
Chapter 27
Even though they assembled as quickly as possible it still took weeks for Kobol's army to straggle all its various units together in a valley on the edge of Douglas's territory.
Alec had never seen so many human beings before. He stood on the crest of the highest hill in the area, under a maple tree that was just breaking out in young fresh leaves and watched the awesome sprawl of trucks, jeeps, horses, wagons, and men.
Ron Jameson stood beside him. "That ought to be enough men to conquer the whole world," he said.
"I don't like having them all bunched together like this," Alec said. "If Douglas's people spot them, and if he's got nuclear weapons or airplanes . . ."
"'We've intercepted all his patrols," Jameson said calmly. "And I doubt if there are any nukes or airplanes left in the world."
"It would only take one."
With a slight shrug, Jameson answered, "We can be ready to move in two days. I think we can keep Douglas's patrols from finding us for that long."
"Two days?"
Nodding, "Check. The men have moved a lot harder and faster than they wanted to, just to get here. They need time to catch their breaths, get their weapons ready, and absorb your battle orders."
That leaves me two days to deal with Kobol, Alec thought.
"On the other hand, if we all sit still here for more than two days" Jameson added drily, "the different packs in this glorious conglomeration will start fighting each other. There's not an overabundance of friendship down in that valley."
Alec nodded. "Let's get to work."
It was fully night, after the evening meal, before Alec was able to get to Kobol. The older man was being held under virtual arrest in one of the caves that honey-combed the valley's hillsides.
His quarters were a small cavern whose sloping wails and roof were laced with stalactites of a thousand different hues. The only entrance was a narrow passage, barely wide enough for a man to squeeze through sideways. Alec had posted an armed guard at the outer end of the passage.
Kobol was sitting on an ancient, creaking bunk, his good leg folded under him and his head bent down as he intently wrote in rapid script on a paper he held in his lap. Alec saw that the bunk was covered with sheets of paper, all filled with his writing.
"Good evening," Alec said.
Kobol hardly looked up. A slightly raised eyebrow was his only greeting. Then he returned to his writing. It was damp in the cave, Alec realized.
It probably makes his bad leg feel like hell, he thought.
Aloud he said, "There's something I haven't told you."
"Oh?" Still not looking up.
"I know where the fissionables are stored."
The pen stopped in mid-stroke.
"I want you to head a special force to seize them before Douglas has a chance to destroy them."
That straightened Kobol's back. He pushed the paper off his lap and unfolded his long legs. Somehow it reminded Alec of a snake uncoiling. "You think he might sabotage them?" Kobol asked.
"It's a possibility. He might even have them booby-trapped, or set to go off in a nuclear explosion that will take everything with it."
Kobol frowned thoughtfully and ran a finger through his mustache.
Pulling the only chair in the enclosure next to the bunk, Alec straddled it and went on, "You know more about the fissionables than any of us. It's a risky job, but a necessary one. Will you do it?"
Almost smiling, Kobol said, "If I do, I'll only be in charge of a small suicide squad, while you're leading the grand army. If I succeed, it's under your command. If I fail, you get rid of an enemy."
"If you fail," Alec said, "we get rid of each other. And everyone else."
"And the settlement dies for lack of fissionables."
"Yes."
"When I get back to the settlement I'll still accuse you of treason."
Alec let himself smile. "Won't that be a bit difficult to prove, if you have the fissionables?"
"I'll prove it."
"Go ahead and try it, then."
Kobol swayed back a little, and then seemed to tense, as if poised to strike. "If I accept this job and get the fissionables, do you promise me safe conduct back to the settlement?"
"You mean, will I have you shot after we win the battle?"
"That's one way to p
hrase it."
"You'll be safe. We can settle our differences back at the settlement."
"My safety for the fissionables," Kobol mused.
"It's a deal."
Alec nodded. Neither man offered his hand. Alec rose from the chair and started toward the passageway entrance. Halfway there he paused and turned back to Kobol.
"I haven't asked you for a similar guarantee — that you won't try to kill me before we get back to the settlement."
Kobol started to reply, but Alec went on, "I don't need your promise. I wouldn't trust it, anyway. Just keep this in mind. If you try to kill me, I'll kill you. Even if you're successful, there are a dozen men who'll chop you into bite-sized pieces afterward. Just pray that I'm not killed in battle, Martin."
He left Kobol sitting on the bunk, looking angry.
On the morning of the third day the attack began.
It had been a hectic two days, getting the men and equipment ready, keeping Douglas's increasingly heavier patrols from penetrating to the valley, briefing Kobol and putting together his special unit of trucks and protective garments and equipment, keeping in touch with the satellite for constant updates on the weather.
It rained the night before the attack. The troops moved out of the valley and spread to their positions, arcing across nearly half of Douglas's defensive perimeter. They moved swiftly despite the rain, most of them on horseback, but the shock wave all on trucks and jeeps. Each unit was completely mobile, no foot soldiers. The armored trucks mounted lasers, the jeeps bore machine guns and rocket launchers. The cavalry carried everything from automatic rifles to crossbows.
The rain's keeping Douglas' patrols down and screening our deployment, Alec told himself, then added, I hope.
He stood on the laser mount platform of an armored truck. The rain had slackened off to a fine drizzle, and the Sun was starting to edge above the eastern hills, breaking through the clouds, turning them pink and mauve. The ground was wet but not soaked, not impassibly muddy.
