The Damned Trilogy

by Alan Dean Foster

  “Yes, sir,” she said uncertainly. “Wait for what, sir?”

  Ranji did not hesitate. “Developments.”

  The squad commander was tapping her nose with a forefinger. “What you say about surprise versus firepower makes sense, sir, but there are no more than twenty or thirty soldiers from Cossuut in my unit. I’m afraid that if you go in with so few you’ll achieve surprise but little else.” Assertive murmurs rose from her non-Cossuutian subordinates. By their silence Ranji saw that Tourmast and Weenn sided with him.

  He hadn’t convinced the others, though. If the argument continued and the squad commander remained obstinate, sooner or later someone would think to pass the proposal on to field headquarters. He knew what kind of response that would produce. It would mean the end of everything he’d planned. Nor could he hope to wait for another chance that might not come. He had to convince her.

  Staring straight into the female Ashregan’s eyes, he tried to will her to his way of thinking. “I understand your concerns but if we don’t try this, we’ll have wasted a unique opportunity. Either we do it my way or we don’t do it at all.” He leaned as close as courtesy would allow, trying to utilize his overbearing height. “Surely you see that it has to be done my way?”

  She started to reply, caught herself, and blinked. “Yes, of course you are right. It has to be that way. I’m sorry. I just did not see it at first.” Her tone was perfectly level as she addressed her bewildered subordinates. “The Field Unifer is right. His is the best way.” As Ranji straightened she turned back to him.

  “We will position ourselves as you suggest and wait for further orders.”

  “Good.” Though pleased, Ranji was a bit startled at the speed with which she acquiesced. “With fewer troops we can get in and back out that much faster.”

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured agreeably. “Whatever you say, sir.”

  Thick smoke and the onset of a dismal evening combined to conceal the bustle of activity in the gully as soldiers responded to the new orders, changing craft according to whispered directions. When all was done, the two floaters and single transport skid in the forefront of the column held only special troops from Cossuut.

  “You’re sure you know what to do?” Ranji and the Ashregan squad commander stood up to their ankles in gully mud, enveloped in near total darkness. All suit and vehicle lights had been turned off lest someone inside the Weave compound spot them moving about.

  “Yes, honored Unifer. I am to assume a defensive position and wait for developments.”

  “Don’t forget it.” If she thought his emphasis redundant, she chose not to point it out.

  With Tourmast and Weenn at his side he watched as the two heavily laden skids and their escorting floaters made their way back up the canyon. They were soon swallowed by the smoke-filled night.

  “You sure won her over fast,” Tourmast commented.

  Ranji gazed in the wake of the last floater. “Not really. My way is the best way.”

  “Is it?”

  He frowned and turned to his friend. “You don’t believe in my plan?”

  Tourmast essayed the kind of thin Ashregan grin he’d grown up with. “I have my doubts.” He glanced at Weenn. “But we believe in you, Ranji. Because of what you accomplished back home. Because of Koba, and Eirrosad.”

  Ranji was more shaken than he cared to admit. He’d have to proceed carefully. If he lost the confidence of such as these, it would be they and not the Ashregan squad leader who would bring his unjustifiable tactics to the notice of higher command.

  Of course, if it got to that point, it would mean that everything he’d planned and hoped for had failed anyway, and what happened to him would no longer matter. And he knew that if he tried to intimidate Tourmast the way he had the Ashregan, that tough Cossuutian noncom would simply laugh at him. From here on everything had to go smoothly, he knew. There would be no time for involved explanations and no second chances.

  Tourmast was right. The squad commander had given in with surprising ease. It was something to think about … later.

  Saguio ventured an encouraging sign as Ranji and the two noncoms climbed aboard the remaining skid. Ranji found himself wondering what his brother would look like without his genetically engineered cranial ridges and unnaturally expansive eye sockets, with protruding nose and ears and shortened fingers. If everything went according to plan, he might soon have the chance to find out. He kept his expression carefully neutral.

  “We will wait until midnight local time,” he told his subordinates.

  When there was no more time left he gathered his friends and fellow soldiers close around him. Communicators carried his words to those mounted on the pair of flanking floaters outside.

  “You should all have been briefed by now. Since they have a lower profile the two floaters will try the gap first, keeping as close to the ground as possible. If they make it through undetected and without damage or injury to those aboard, the rest of us will follow on the skid.

  “If the radiation from the aurora dome doesn’t fry us through our armor or incapacitate our vehicles, the plan is to keep moving down the gully until it passes close to a structure. At that point those on the floaters will abandon their vehicles and attempt to force an entrance. As we will by then be inside the defensive perimeter the likelihood is strong that individual buildings will not be guarded.

  “If entry is successful the rest of us will follow in twos and threes. The one thing we don’t want is to bunch up in a large group which could easily attract attention.”

  A soldier in back gestured for attention. “Your pardon, Unifer, but leaving our vehicles behind means going in without heavy weapons.

  “That’s right, but remember: if at all possible, we want to capture this facility, not destroy it. We’ll be a lot less conspicuous without them and once we’re inside it would only inhibit our maneuverability anyway. If things get too tight, we can always return to the gully and bring them on line.” He let his gaze rove over his expectant audience.

  “I want every one of you to take the attitude that we’re out to avoid a fight.” Bemused muttering rose from the group. “No shooting, no killing unless in self-defense. If we can just keep our calm we may be able to stroll into sensitive areas and quietly take over.”

  “That’s not how we did it on Eirrosad.” This time the objection came from the center of the group. Ranji didn’t waste time trying to identify the speaker.

  “This isn’t Eirrosad,” he reminded them quietly. “It’s a civilized world, with much worth preserving. Our goals should include the concept of minimal destruction. Any idiot can fire at anything that moves. It takes a true soldier to know when to pick his shots.”

  “It’s unnatural,” said someone else.

  The irony of his reply was not lost on Ranji. “You know, you’re starting to sound exactly like a bunch of Humans.”

  No one had a rejoinder for that, the ultimate insult.

  “What happens if we do manage to make it inside?” Weenn said into the ensuing silence. “There’ll be illumination. Under lights we look a lot less Human.”

  “So does our armor,” Ranji admitted. “We won’t fool anyone who gets close into thinking we’re Human, but our shapes are Human enough that at a distance or on first glance they may very well hesitate, and he who hesitates is lost.”

  Tourmast’s gaze narrowed. “That’s a Human expression, Ranj.”

  “Consider the applicability and not the source.” Ranji stared at his subordinate and friend, focusing on the facial ridges that no longer looked natural. From experience he knew that they could be removed, but first he had to excise doubt and ignorance, and keep those around him alive long enough to perform the necessary preparatory intellectual and emotional surgery. His revelations would be of little use to the dead.

  “This is crazy,” Weenn was muttering. “Precisely the sort of thing one would expect from you, Ranji-aar. It also just might work.”

  “If you pull thi
s off,” Tourmast was saying, “you’ll be the biggest hero since Sivwon-ouw of Hantarie.”

  “I’m not interested in herodom. I’m just trying to accomplish the maximum gain with the minimum risk to life.” Ranji turned and considered the smoky view forward. “If our latest information is correct, the installation is currently being operated principally by Hivistahm, with Massood and S’van assistance and Massood defenders. There will also be the usual scattering of other species. Doubtless some Human soldiers will be present.”

  “It doesn’t matter if they’re all Humans in there,” said someone behind him. “We’ll handle them, Unifer!”

  How much more than your safety I am now charged with none of you can imagine. He checked his chronometer.

  “Very well then. It’s not time yet. Ready yourselves, and those of you on guns and sensors keep alert. All the enemy has to do to ruin our plans radically is overfly this gully and take one look down.”

  Between the smoke, fumes, and moonless night, the darkness when they finally began to move was stygian. Fitfull bursts of light flared occasionally overhead as intelligent shells and missiles expunged one another with joyful determination. Energy beams probed vaporous reaches, singeing atmosphere and soil, seeking enemies. Ranji was a gratified witness to the ballet of destruction: it would make the work of the defenders’ detection systems more difficult.

  Oblivious to the petty discord of contumacious sentients, a storm blew in from the east. Wind and driving rain stirred the swirling clouds of smoke, putting out fires and driving exposed soldiers on both sides to shelter. Thunder and lightning would serve to further confuse sensitive detectors on both sides. Ranji knew they had to move quickly now. If the gully down which they were traveling filled with runoff from the foothills, his entire plan of action would have to be abandoned. Neither skid nor floaters were designed to operate underwater, much less their occupants.

  Everyone held their breath as the first floater eased beneath the lightly glowing wall of the aurora dome. A generating pylon just to the left of the gully gleamed on the pilot’s screen, its lethal outline clear and sharp despite the torrential downpour.

  Moments later the second floater followed, powered down to the point where its landing skids dragged in gully-bottom mud. Once on the other side of the charged aerogel dome its pilot pivoted the craft to signify that they had made the transition safely.

  The much bulkier, less maneuverable transport skid rose and moved slowly forward, its air-repulsion units functioning at the minimum level necessary to lift it off the surface. Ranji found his attention flicking between the bank of sensors that would scream for attention if the aurora dome began to affect the craft’s instrumentation and a rearward-facing detector. At any moment he feared that a wall of water might come rushing down the gully, forcing them upward into dangerous prominence.

  But the water level remained unchanged beneath the advancing skid, and the sensors slept on.

  Once safely inside the defensive perimeter the three craft regrouped lest even their weak emissions be picked up by the complex’s defenders. Tight-beam communicators were not employed. Instead, Weenn passed instructions to the floater pilots by climbing out onto the dripping nose of the transport skid and yelling at them through the rain. Ranji smiled to himself. So much for advanced technology. Its unavoidable drawback was that no matter how clever in design, as soon as you employed it to disturb or otherwise make use of the usable electromagnetic spectrum, some other equally sophisticated device somewhere else could sense its operation. Not so two people chatting back and forth.

  Still advancing on minimum power, the three vehicles drove deep into the heart of the energy-distribution complex, following the winding path of the gully. Once everyone tensed as a large freight skid thrummed past just ahead of them, gravid with cargo. As it was not a military vehicle it possessed no sensing equipment of its own, and the crew was intent only on their assigned destination, not the familiar, unremarkable terrain they were crossing. No one looked outside and down, and so the huddled intruders were not seen.

  Where the gully made a sharp bend to the west it widened slightly, leaving a steep bank on one side and a shallow muddy beach on the other. There they disembarked from their cumbersome vehicles, Tourmast in particular bemoaning the need to leave behind the heavy weapons that were mounted on the skid. All internal power was shut down as the troops assembled outside in the rain and muck.

  “Remember,” their Unifer admonished them, his visor flipped up to expose his face to the rain and darkness, “from here on you have to try and look like Humans, walk like Humans, think like Humans.” Nervous laughter rose from people as yet unaware that they were being instructed to act like themselves. The mounting irony threatened to overwhelm Ranji.

  “What happens if we’re challenged?”

  He squinted at Weenn through the pounding rain. “We’re a battle squad on our way to take up newly assigned positions. Nobody shoots, nobody even makes a hostile grimace unless I give the word. I’ll handle any confrontations. I can speak Human pretty good, without the aid of a translator.”

  Tourmast was close by his side. Very close. “I didn’t know you could talk Human, Ranj.” The downpour muffled his words. “When did you pick that up?”

  “What did you think I’ve been doing all the time I haven’t been talking to anybody? There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Tourm. Maze me if there isn’t a lot you don’t know about yourself.” He headed off into the rain, leaving his friend and subordinate to gaze after him thoughtfully.

  Scouts from the floaters scrambled up the crumbling north wall of the gully, momentarily vanished, then returned to indicate that the grounds surrounding the nearest large structure were occupied only by decorative plants, walkways, and fountains arranged according to typical Wais design. Advancing at the run in double file, the rest of the squad followed. Exterior lights from the building and other nearby structures scarcely illuminated the line of dim bipedal shapes that splashed forward through dark rain and expanding puddles.

  With a very few exceptions a door is recognizable anywhere civilization has taken hold. As expected, no guard lingered in the downpour outside the one they soon confronted. A small amber glowlight shed minimal illumination on the solid landing below. While the rest of the squad hugged the shadows, Ranji tried the door pull. It opened easily.

  The light inside was much brighter than he would have preferred, but there was little to be gained by trying another structure. They were in a relay or switching station of some kind. Around them massive machinery hummed with purpose, oblivious to the conflict that raged outside as loads were shifted and power shipped to urban centers far to the south. Illumination came from lightstrips laid into ceiling, walls, and floor. Those in the floor were color-coded.

  Muttering an order to Tourmast, he waited nervously until everyone was inside out of the storm. As Weenn shut the exterior door behind the last soldier a pair of Massood appeared in the corridor just ahead. One was intent on a recorder pad while her companion recited readings from a panel of telltales. He grunted something, started to move on to the next in series, and froze as his eyes met Ranji’s. One long-fingered hand instinctively reached for the side-arm secured at his waist.

  “Don’t do that!” Ranji’s Massood was erratic, and he hastened to adjust the translator built into his field visor as he approached the pair. “We’re here to talk, not fight.” Glancing back at his troops, he added in a terse whisper, “Try to look relaxed and indifferent.”

  The Massood’s cat eyes widened slightly as the figure in field armor slowly came forward. The female stood motionless, still clutching the recorder pad. Ranji felt his companions’ eyes on his back, heard their confused whispers as they wondered what their Unifer was up to. But they were mindful of his orders, and kept their weapons lowered.

  He stopped an arm’s length away from the towering, lanky, gray-furred figure. Vertical pupils expanded and contracted. Both short, pointed ears were cocked sharpl
y forward. Whiskers twitched violently. The Massood was clearly confused.

  “We’re not hostile,” Ranji assured it.

  The technician swayed slightly. “But you are Ashregan,” it declared with certainty.

  “That doesn’t matter. I’m telling you the truth.”

  He expected further argument, wondering how he was going to persuade them before someone in his squad came forward, gun at the ready, to see what was going on.

  Instead, the Massood’s twitching eased and it relaxed visibly. “I believe you.”

  “Yes,” added his companion with utterly unexpected alacrity, “we believe you.”

  Desperation must make a man convincing, he told himself, bemused but much relieved. “Why don’t you go and inform your superiors of our arrival? Tell them there’s a squad of armed altered Ashregan down here ready to surrender. We’ll await your return.”

  “That is a good idea.” The two technicians turned and departed. Ranji waited until they were safely on their way before rejoining his companions.

  Their unease was palpable. “What’s going on?” Tourmast wasn’t the only one who crowded close, demanding an answer. Saguio’s anxious face was visible behind his visor. “Why’d you let them leave like that?”

  “What did you tell them? They didn’t look worried,” Weenn asked.

  During the walk back Ranji had composed a response. “I told them that we were a special floating unit disguised to look like Ashregan.”

  “And they believed that?” Tourmast was more than doubtful.

  “You saw what happened, didn’t you?” said Saguio. “They just walked away quietly. No fear, no panic. Just like we were allies.”

  The Sub-Unifer wasn’t convinced but couldn’t think of anything else to say. Nothing he could envision nor anything in his training had prepared him for the scenario he’d just witnessed. “What now?” he muttered.

  “We go forward, of course.” Ranji turned and beckoned casually. Several soldiers exchanged glances, but all followed.

  They had nearly traversed the length of the switching station when Weenn, advancing on the right, called for a halt. Tension took hold of the squad as they sensed movement in front of them.