“Trouble ahead, sir,” Wilson reported crisply. “Party of hostiles has four civilians stopped on the transportway. Looks like things are going to get ugly fast.”
“We should go help them.” The urgent thought impelled Andi to her feet, and she took a step or two in the direction the scouts had just come from.
Tom moved fast, grabbing her elbow hard and glaring down at her. “I thought I told you—more than once—my primary orders don’t allow me the discretion to go around the countryside rescuing everyone in distress.” He spaced out each word for emphasis. “I have to get back to the capital. We’ve got vital information that could stop the entire planet from descending into war. I can’t conduct firefights and rescue individuals. You were an exception because someone somewhere pulled a lot of rank and got special orders issued. Okay?”
Biting her lip, Andi flushed and jerked her elbow away from him. I wish he wouldn’t keep rubbing it in my face that I got special treatment. I didn’t ask for him to come rescue me.
Apparently satisfied she wasn’t going to argue, Tom’s next remark was addressed to the waiting sergeant. “How many hostiles?”
“Fifteen. Armed with standard planetary-issue weapons, from what we could see.” Rogers nodded his agreement with Wilson’s rapid assessment. “No heavy stuff. No Sectors contraband. We could take them, sir.”
Brow furrowing, Tom glared at Wilson. “We have to stay on mission here. You’re starting to sound like her.” He jerked his thumb at Andi. “I need a reason to break our rules of engagement.”
Wilson looked at Rogers, getting no help from him beyond a sheepish shrug. Turning back to the captain, the sergeant continued to plead his case. “They’re roughing up a bunch of priests, sir. Defenseless noncombatants. Don’t seem right to walk away, orders or no orders. I…can’t explain it any better.”
Tom pulled out his blaster and checked the charge. “All right, I’ll commit to going and assessing the potential for intervention.” He fixed Andi with a stern gaze. “I am not promising to intervene. So don’t push it, Miss Markriss.”
Afraid to say anything and risk changing his mind, she simply nodded. From what she’d seen of Tom so far, he’d intervene all right. Soft heart inside a very tough exterior. She bit her lip, realizing he and his men would be going in harm’s way, based mostly on her request. I hope we won’t all regret my urging them into danger. There aren’t any good choices, only risky tradeoffs right now. She breathed a little prayer to the Lords of Space to watch over Tom and his men in the coming moments, especially if the situation turned into a firefight.
“If they have vehicles, we could use a lift. The whole point of tracking us back to the transportway was to beg, borrow or steal a ride home.” Having found a military rationale, the captain wasted no time in moving out. “Abukawal, keep Sadu and Lysanda well to the rear.” He motioned for Wilson and Rogers to lead the way.
Andi crept southward behind Tom, moving through the brush and scrubby trees lining the ridge. Soon, she was high atop the ridgeline itself, at a vantage point opposite the roadblock where the unwary travelers had been caught. The road was clogged with vehicles and a large mass of people.
“Looks like they forced the passenger vehicle off the road.” The captain stared at the scene below them through his distance-viewers. Slowly, he tracked along the line of the transportway.
“How can you tell?” Andi eyed the road. All I see is a wrecked car and an angry mob.
Wilson leaned in on her other side, speaking quietly right at her ear. “See how the two cargo haulers and the smaller car are angled on the near side of the road? They double-teamed the driver, boxed him in, caught nice as you please.”
Tom lowered the viewers. “Priests weren’t expecting any trouble. Their vehicle looks like the high-end luxury model. Not built for speed.”
Things have obviously deteriorated in the short time since Wilson and Rogers first reconnoitered the site. Andi scanned the scene. Two of the black-robed Sanenre priests now lay unmoving, covered with blood in the muddy roadside ditch. Two priests—one young, one elderly—remained standing on the elevated road. A half circle of jeering Naranti rebels loosely surrounded the pair, turning on these defenseless members of their own Clan. Trying to shield his companion from their assailants, putting his body in front of the older man, the younger priest extended his arms wide in a blocking motion. Judging by his gestures and attitude, he was arguing with the rebels.
Burning fiercely, the boxy passenger vehicle was sending thick black smoke skyward. Andi eyed the car warily. I’m surprised the fuel tank hasn’t blown yet from the fire.
Next minute, she stifled a scream as one of the men in the throng below raised his weapon and shot the younger priest at point-blank range, sending him staggering across the pavement. The old man tried unsuccessfully to catch him before he tumbled off the raised transportway into the ditch with his luckless fellows, coming to rest against their bodies.
The remaining priest rose from where he’d fallen. Smoothing his robes, he stood quiet and calm in a half circle of shouting, heckling tormentors. There was no avenue of retreat.
He looks really familiar. How do I know him? “Let me have the viewers.” She tugged at the strap around Tom’s neck. With some reluctance, he unlooped the viewers, ducking his head to get disentangled and then handing them over. After a moment fumbling with the adjustment, Andi peered across the ravine, focussing on the priest’s face, one glance confirming her suspicions as to his identity. “Serene Holiness Rahuna.”
She dropped the viewers, clutching at Tom’s arm. “We have to save him.” Think, think, what can I say that will give him grounds to act? Taking a deep breath, Andi spread her fingers in a self-calming gesture. “Look, Rahuna is the Pontiff of Sanenre, head of the planetary religion. He’s one of the few people on Zulaire respected by everyone. All three Clans trust his word. If this war is going to be stopped, he’s the only man who can do it.”
“She’s right, Captain.” Andi shot Abukawal a look of pure gratitude as he spoke up. “If Rahuna dies, there will be chaos. In time of Clan warfare, the Obati and Shenti are required by our gods to turn authority over to Sanenre’s Serene Holiness, who is always of the Naranti Clan. His neutrality is unquestionable.” Abukawal nodded toward the ugly scene on the road below them. “If the rabble kills Rahuna, there will be no one able to neutralize this crisis. It takes fifty days and nights of intense ritual for Sanenre to manifest the signs identifying the new religious leader.”
“Anything could happen to Zulaire in fifty days.” Anxiety nipping at her nerves, Andi’s voice rose. “How can the rebels do this? They must know who he is, he’s one of their own people.”
Tom took the viewers back from Wilson, who’d retrieved them from the ground. The captain had a half smile for Andi as he dusted the lenses off with his shirt. “Are we ever going to run into anyone in distress you don’t want me to rescue? No matter what my orders—my very specific orders—say?” He took another look himself. “If this guy is so important, killing him would be a logical strategy for the rebels, Clan loyalties aside. Classic destabilizing move. Buys them more time to solidify their gains.” Lowering the viewers, Tom drew the sergeant aside a few steps for a semi private conference. “Mitch?”
“I say go for it, rescue the guy, sir. It’s worth doing. Fits into our mission on Zulaire in the first place. We can stretch our orders a little more.” He winked at Andi.
She held her breath.
Tom nodded, and Andi exhaled in a rush as he issued his orders. “All right, we move in. Rogers, Latvik, target the men closest to the two trucks. The sergeant and I will pick off the ringleaders. The guy with the pockmarked face, the one with the drop on the old man, is mine.”
“I’m coming, too.” Andi checked the charge on her borrowed blaster. They’re going into danger at my urging again and I need to be there, do my part.
“I expected nothing else. Stay beside me. Choose your targets from the rear fringe of the
mob over there.” He pointed. “And we want the trucks in one piece, if at all possible.” Without waiting for her acknowledgment, Tom turned to Abukawal. “Stay here with the girl and the baby. If we don’t succeed, make your way to the capital. Stay low, travel at night, don’t get involved in anything. Your priority is to get there in one piece.”
Abukawal drew himself up, tightening his grip on his weapon. Eyes flashing, jaw jutting, he shook his head once. “Staying on the sidelines is a hard thing for a warrior.”
“I know, I get it. I’m sorry. Your eyewitness information is too important to risk.” Tom clapped Abukawal on the shoulder, then nodded to his own team. “Move out.”
The small party crept down the ridge, utilizing every bit of sparse cover, trying not to draw any attention. Andi tried to match her movements to those of Rogers, whom she followed, and not blunder into Tom next to her. Although she understood the tactical necessity for creeping up on the enemy, the slow pace frayed her nerves. I just hope we won’t be too late.
The captain signaled a halt about halfway, where a long, rocky outcropping provided limited cover. The soldiers deployed, Andi taking a spot in the middle of the line, still next to Tom, per his instructions.
She was now close enough to hear the discussion going on below, at the edge of the road.
The Naranti mob leader taunted the old priest, an incredible lapse of cultural norms—to berate an elder and one of his own Clan, at that. “You’re powerless to save your companions or yourself.”
Taking a step forward, the ringleader of the mob pushed the old man hard with each sentence he spit out. “Your day has passed. We don’t need you to talk to the Obati and Shenti for us. It is our Clan’s turn to rule Zulaire. We’re done bowing and serving. We’ll make them tremble at our war cry, bend their necks to our knives. They’ll have to respect us. The Naranti can carry war banners and fight better than the Obati or Shenti ever did.”
“This is to be the accomplishment of our Clan?” Scorn colored Rahuna’s powerful voice. “The killing of innocents? Taking what isn’t ours?”
The rebel spokesman struck the priest across the face with the butt of his weapon. Spinning from the force of the blow, Rahuna crumpled in a heap, his small shiny black hat skittering across the road.
“Enough. We waste time,” declared another Naranti man, who appeared to be the final authority over the ragtag squad. “Kill him and have done. We must be at the rally point before nightfall.”
Tom half raised his hand, on the verge of signaling his men to fire.
Rahuna struggled to his feet, hand pressed to his bleeding head. “I warn you, and those who launched you on this path of hate and destruction, your crimes are the shame of Zulaire. It’s a betrayal of all we Naranti have stood for as a people, for the last four hundred years of peace. The evil you do will return to haunt you a hundredfold. You won’t gain what you seek from these unholy acts.”
Andi shivered at the power in his voice, in his words, even though the message was not meant for her. It almost sounds like he’s cursing them. Uneasily, a few men on the edges of the crowd glanced at each other. She hoped they were reconsidering their involvement with this episode of hate.
“You break the peace with unspeakable horrors. You’ll be called to answer for these acts, whether in this world by the authorities or by Sanenre in the next.” Rahuna raised his hands to the heavens, palms up.
“I said be quiet. Your smooth words serve no purpose here today.” The rebel leader took a half step forward.
“The Great Sanenre Who Sees and Judges will decide whether you’re right, or whether I speak truth.” Lowering his arms, Rahuna stared straight at the man opposing him.
A broad smirk puckering his pockmarked face, the rebel lieutenant raised his weapon. “Shall I kill you at once, or shall we see how long you can endure pain, old man? How long does the Serenity last?”
Rahuna made a sign with one hand. The leader of the mob hesitated. Speaking softly, the elderly cleric said, “One more moment, I beseech you, to make my peace with Sanenre before I die, one moment to ask his blessing on your souls and mine.”
“Is this guy for real?” Wilson whispered. “He’s hypnotizing them.”
“Yeah, maybe he doesn’t even need our help,” was Rogers’ half-serious rejoinder.
“I think the rebel leader is losing some support from his own men.” Andi glanced over the mob again, noting more than a few ashamed faces and slumping shoulders.
On the roadway below, the Naranti gestured with the weapon. “All right, say your damn prayers, old man. But be quick about it! And don’t concern yourself on my behalf. I don’t follow your tired, irrelevant Sanenre.” Noisily, he hawked and spat.
Rahuna raised his bleeding head with an effort, eyes seeking the sun, in whose flames of purity Sanenre was believed to dwell. Sinking to his knees in the dusty road, facing the proper direction, he recited the prayer for the dying.
“Now.” Tom’s order was a curt whisper.
Andi jumped, lost her grip on the blaster. Swearing under her breath, she got the weapon firmly in her hand again, scrambled to her feet. Adrenaline and anger swept through her, making her aim deadly, as she thought about what the rebels had done at the compound and in the village. These men don’t deserve mercy. Beside her, the soldiers fired at the designated targets in economic, efficient bursts. The energy charges flashed in a whining barrage, wreaking havoc on the mob.
“They’re trying to get away!” Tom shouted. A small knot of the remaining Naranti Clansmen made a mad scramble for the nearer of the two vehicles. “Concentrate fire on the red truck.”
Andi switched her aim to the designated cargo hauler, joining her fire with a stream of energy coming from her companions’ blasters. The target vehicle’s power source detonated in a resounding explosion, sending deadly metal fragments flying for dozens of yards. Dazed and deafened by the explosion, Andi hardly felt Tom pulling her behind the rocks, shielding her from the shrapnel screaming through the air. A second explosion shook the hill as the other cargo hauler blew up.
Above her head, the captain swore in a steady stream. “Damn it. There goes our hope of getting transport.” Andi buried her face in her arms, conscious of the reassuring weight of Tom’s two hundred-plus pounds shielding her. He wrapped himself tightly around her as more explosions went off.
The moment of silence stretched, and Andi heard her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.
Tom raised his head to check out the scene. Then he rolled off of Andi, putting his face next to hers for a second. “You okay?”
“My ears are ringing, but I’m fine.”
Tom got to his feet. “All clear, men. Get down there and see if we screwed up enough to kill the guy we were trying to rescue. Rogers, go tell Abukawal to be ready to move out fast. We’re going to have to get away from this mess with all possible speed.”
He extended a casual hand to help Andi to her feet, but kept her in his grip, allowing the soldiers to go in first. Not until Wilson signaled an all-clear from the roadway did the captain lead her to the bottom of the hill, pausing at the edge of the ditch, where the three younger priests lay in a tangled heap.
Tom checked to see if any of the men still lived. Rejoining her, he shook his head. “We were too late to help any of them. Sorry.”
Shaking a bit from the aftereffects of the battle, Andi clambered to the roadway. At least at the village the violence had happened before I arrived on the scene. Horrific as the devastation was, I didn’t see the events as they occurred. But here, I killed a few of these people. Her stomach heaved, and she stopped walking, bending over, hand across her abdomen.
“Are you all right?” The captain put his arm around her shoulders.
Not trusting her voice, she nodded.
Tom gave her a half hug before moving away. “Hey, you did a good job for your first time in combat. Once we engaged, it was them or us, you know.”
“I know.” Andi resumed her climb up the l
ast few feet of the slope.
“The reverend is still alive, sir,” Wilson called as she and Tom stepped onto the black surface of the transportway. Medkit open, the sergeant crouched on his knees next to Rahuna, checking for injuries. “Shrapnel blew right over him, I guess. I think he passed out.”
“Help him take care of your priest, would you, please?” Tom directed Andi in Wilson’s direction. “Latvik, come on. You and I need to make sure none of these rebels are still breathing.”
As Andi knelt next to Wilson, Rahuna’s eyes flickered open. Arching his pencil-thin eyebrows, he cleared his throat. “Are you winged messengers of Sanenre?” He looked from her to the sergeant and back again.
“Not exactly.” Smiling, Andi patted his shoulder. She grabbed the folded shawl from her pack and slid it under his head to serve as a cushion against the hard surface of the road.
“No matter. I’m not disappointed.” Rahuna got his elbows under him and tried to sit.
Not unkindly, Wilson pushed him back. “Not yet, sir, if you please. I need to finish dressing your head wound.”
The priest eased himself down. “Who are you and where did you come from?”
“We escaped a massacre at the Obati summer colony.” Andi sat cross-legged on the road to get more comfortable, resting the blaster across her lap. “These soldiers are the survivors of a Sectors patrol detailed to escort me home. We got caught in the attack, and now we’re trying to get to the capital to let the authorities know what’s going on.”
“Sanenre sent you to this spot at this moment.” Rahuna’s voice sounded stronger, less raspy. “My fellow priests? What of them?”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Andi took his hand. “We were barely in time to help you. Too late for the others.”
“My nephew was the last to fall, trying to defend me.” He blinked hard, biting his lip, and closed his expressive brown eyes for a moment. “How shall I face my sister with this news?”
Thinking about her own family, about the Tonkilns, Andi blinked back some tears herself, squeezing his hand in silent sympathy.
Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars Page 152
