Greg nodded as he emerged from the ravine into a rough clearing hemmed in by dense walls of foliage that rose up to intertwine overhead. Some light filtered through, casting everything in shades of green. And the air was clean, moist and free from the taint of ash. Greg had a moment or two of pure enjoyment before a tingle of alarm came over him.
In reflex he dived to the right and had the Roug gun out even as something weighty sighed through the space he had so recently occupied. There was a heavy impact followed by secondary thuds and the crackling rustle of crushed foliage. He remembered Kao Chih’s instructions on the smartgun’s use and fired a sequence of short bursts into the shadowy ravine, back along what he reckoned to be the boulder’s trajectory.
The second rock was smaller and faster. He dodged sideways, still firing blurry steel-grey bolts up into the dark fissure, reached cover behind a thick bush and saw that a pale circular display had appeared on the back of the gun, above the grip. Within it a red dot was moving from left to right and Greg smiled. His attacker was tagged and the gun’s sensors were now tracking it. He crouched, raised the Roug weapon and swung it after the invisible assailant, who had to be moving along the branches high above. When the red dot was centred he pressed the fire stud and held it down.
A chain of bright blue spikes lanced up into the dense mesh of foliage. There was a choking cry, a splintering crack, and a form fell out of the canopy amid a cascade of leaves and twigs. For a second the gun’s continuous fire followed the body’s descent, pouring energy bolts into it, before Greg released the stud. Trailing smoke and flames, it hit the ground and was still. Even before he reached it he was fairly sure who it was. With the smart-gun at the ready he flipped the lifeless form over … and he was right, it was Vashutkin. The former politician had taken energy-bolt hits all up the left side of his body, leaving it a seared gory ruin with the arm almost severed and blood oozing from a ragged hole in the neck. The eyes were vacant.
‘Mr Cameron? Are you there?’ Kao Chih sounded worried. ‘We are picking up weapon-energy discharges.’
‘I’m okay, I’m brand new,’ he said. ‘That gun is pretty impressive, by the way!’
‘Have you encountered the Hegemony ambassador?’
‘Nah. Dealt with the monkey – now it’s time to find the organ-grinder.’
He stepped over the corpse and pushed through a curtain of leafy vines. The undergrowth was dense and alive with buzzing insects and varieties of beetles and reptiles that seemed familiar if somewhat larger. He had gone less than a dozen paces when a tall woman leaned out from behind a tree and beckoned him over.
‘You are chasing the big Sendrukan fellow, yes?’ she said with a faint Norj accent.
‘I do have business to discuss with him, aye.’
‘Well, this one climbed our Watchtree, threatened to fire on anyone who comes near. My Uvovo scholars are all for charging across the branchways but I am managing to cool down their hot heads, so far. I hope that you are armed.’
When he showed her the Roug gun she nodded approvingly. ‘That’s the Watchtree, right through there.’ She pointed to a huge trunk around which a lamplit stairway spiralled upwards. ‘Listen, there is a friend of mine still up there – keep your eye out for her, ja? And the sooner this is resolved the better. My Uvovo won’t stay cool for very much longer.’
He smiled. ‘Well, I’d better get on wi’ it, then!’
He nodded to her then headed off through the bushy undergrowth at a crouch. He had just reached the foot of the spiral steps when Kao Chih suddenly spoke.
‘We may have a small problem, Mr Cameron.’
Greg sighed. ‘If you really need to tell me about it now, I bet it’s no’ that small.’
‘A previously undetected vessel has left Darien and is heading towards Nivyesta,’ Kao Chih said. ‘Sensor data indicates that it is a Hegemony medium-range shuttle, homing in on Kuros’s transponder signal. Expected arrival is thirty-one minutes and counting.’
‘Fair enough, but this smartgun is a nice bit of kit,’ Greg said. ‘I’m not really anticipating any difficulties.’
‘I would still advise caution.’
‘Aye, and from here on I’ll be in silent mode so don’t expect a running commentary, okay?’
‘And I shall refrain from superfluous queries.’
‘Right, here goes … ’
The first jutting steps creaked slightly underfoot but felt thoroughly solid as he climbed. With the Roug gun held near his shoulder, muzzle up, he stayed close to the mossy trunk, eyes glancing ahead and above. He had completed one full turn about the Watchtree when he heard that voice.
‘So good of you to pay me this visit, Dr Cameron, although something tells me that this is not a social call.’
‘Met Vashutkin on my way here,’ Greg said, scanning the overhead weave of foliage. ‘He’s no longer a problem. Are you going to be a problem, Ambassador?’
‘I certainly hope so, Doctor.’
Suddenly sure that he’d seen a form shift behind the branch-and-vine veil above and to the right, he raised the smartgun two-handed and blazed away. Close on a dozen tag rounds zipped and cracked through the foliage but the acquisition display failed to come up on the grip.
‘Not quite the inward-looking academic any more, I see,’ came the infuriatingly languid voice, its source hard to pin down.
‘Had to adapt, Ambassador,’ Greg said. ‘Times are hard and dangerous, thanks to you … ’
With the last word of the sentence he fired the smartgun at a branch jutting almost directly overhead, stitching a zigzag of tag rounds across it. But still no display. He cursed under his breath, flattened his back against the trunk and peered sideways, up the curve of steps. And saw a face staring at him out of a branching mass of foliage, the face of Catriona Macreadie …
‘You’ll have to do better than that, Doctor,’ said the Sendrukan from somewhere above, but Greg’s full attention, his entire being, was focused on that beloved face. He half-opened his mouth to call out to her but she shook her head and pressed a silencing finger against her lips. Then she pointed at the spiral steps and made a gesture like two rising turns … or one and a half, he couldn’t be sure. After that she smiled at him, blew him a kiss, and was gone.
Greg felt shaken by the encounter, delighting in the initial burst of exhilaration, revelling in the notion that she’d somehow escaped destruction and regained her physical form. Then hard, unforgiving memory forced upon him the fact that the last time he saw her she had been an incorporeal shade flitting among the trees, an insubstantial projection sent by a vast, inhuman entity.
But he had not imagined her appearance, and there would be time enough for investigation later.
With unhurried care he ascended the curving steps, pausing a couple of times to study the dense curtains of greenery.
‘Why so silent, Doctor Cameron? Daunted by the enormity of your task, perhaps?’
By now Greg had ascended by more than a turn of the spiral and a gap appeared in the canopy above, revealing a tall, grey-robed figure. But even as he brought up the smartgun and loosed a string of tag rounds the robed Sendrukan noticed him and ducked away. The branches shook for a moment or two as Kuros no doubt scuttled away to a safer distance, and when Greg regarded the gun there was still no targeting display.
‘My congratulations on a skilful piece of stalking, Doctor.’ Kuros’s voice was muffled, drifting down from a greater height now. ‘And I see that you are using tagging ammunition, from which I surmise that you have a seeker weapon of some sort.’
Climbing the steps, Greg tried again to gauge the direction of the Sendrukan’s voice.
‘Aye, that’s right, you’ve got it, clever of you to figure it out.’
‘In that case, I’ll have to adopt alternative tactics.’ Then Kuros spoke two words in Sendrukan.
A tremor began in the thigh muscles of Greg’s right leg. A shivery weakness quickly spread downwards, forcing him to cling to the trunk of the Wa
tchtree as he limped and staggered up to a wide, shady platform. There was no pain, only a loss of control, a numbness backed by a growing sense of horrified dread.
‘Do you recall our last meeting, when I introduced you to that useful substance known as Blue Chain?’
‘Your slavery powder?’ Greg said, trying to keep his voice level. ‘What about it?’
‘I’m glad you asked,’ said the hidden Kuros. ‘Every particle of the nanodust is programmed to adapt to circumstances, you see. So although most of the Blue Chain we gave you was removed by those cunning native roots, its adaptive imperative would have already sent sleeper clusters into the motor centres … ’
Kuros spoke another Sendrukan word, and Greg felt the strength go out of his other leg. He fell to his knees and slumped forward. Gritting his teeth, he began dragging himself forward with his elbows.
God, I’m a sitting target! he thought. Just a few words and he’s turned me into a wreck, a weakling. If I can just get in one good shot …
‘That’s all very educational, Mr Ambassador,’ he said, pulling himself along with his forearms. ‘You could give talks about it at the maximum-security prison we’re gonna build just for you back on Darien!’
‘An amusing notion, Doctor, but the truth is that you are going to die here and I will return to the Hegemony and civilisation. And eventually we shall again reach out to this world and reclaim it in the name of our undiminished posterity. This is how the supreme existence manifests itself – the weak work towards the greater glory of the strong, and the undeserving give way to the pre-eminent … ’
Again, a Sendrukan word was spoken and the feeling and control drained from Greg’s right arm. His hand grew numb and the smartgun slipped out of his nerveless fingers. He half-gasped, half-laughed, face only inches from the rough planking as he seized the Roug gun with his other hand. Then with a considerable effort he levered himself up against the nearby tree trunk, sweat trickling and itching down his temples and scalp as he forced himself into a seated position. Deliberately he rested the smartgun on his leg, aiming it at the flight of stairs that curved up around a large branch that protruded from the main trunk like a huge shoulder.
‘I think I’ve heard that argument before,’ Greg said. ‘Usually from out the mouth of a lout with delusions o’ grandeur. Oh, but wait a minute! – that’s exactly what your precious Hegemony is, a gang of louts with big guns, big ships and big boots. You can dress it up any way you like, with pretty-sounding phrases and lofty visions, but ultimately you’re just a mob of self-important thugs who want it all!’
Silence. Then a voice whispering from overhead.
‘Are you trying to get yerself killed?’
He glanced up and there she was, peering over the edge of a blossom-fringed platform. She looked so real, so solid, that he almost believed it.
‘It’s no’ much of a plan but it’s all I’ve got right now,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can provoke him into showing himself … ’
Alarm flickered in her eyes.
‘ … and if I die, you’ll have to take this gun and kill him … I mean, if you can, if you’re not a … ’
She shook her head, then gave a shrug and ducked out of sight, leaving him suddenly, bleakly alone.
A moment later, Kuros spoke again.
‘I must admit, Doctor Cameron, your species has shown itself to be invidiously annoying and at times more trouble than they are worth – and you are an especially irritating example of your kind.’
‘Och, you’re just saying that – c’mon, tell me what you really think. Tell me to my face!’
‘I had toyed with allowing you one arm and a sporting chance of hitting me but I’ve changed my mind. Instead, I think you deserve to come back with me to the Hegemony core worlds where I can introduce you to the wonders of the Hegemon’s own personal vivisection labs. It would be, I feel, a suitable reward for all your efforts.’
Kuros spoke another word. Greg’s arm went dead and fell to his side, the smartgun half-slipping from his now useless hand. His attempt at goading Kuros into showing himself had failed, while Cat seemed to have simply vanished, ghosted away.
There was the sound of descending steps and he looked up to see a tall grey-robed figure stroll leisurely towards him. A shadowy cowl was pushed back to reveal the features of Utavess Kuros.
‘My transponder tells me that a transport will be here quite shortly,’ the Sendrukan said. ‘There is a platform more adequate for embarkation further up, which means that I will have to carry you.’
Kuros was half a dozen paces away when a figure dropped onto him from the branches above. Small hands clawed at his face. Flailing at his assailant, he cried out and staggered back, tripped on a jutting board and fell full length on the planking. That was when Greg realised that the attacker was Catriona.
She held on like grim death as the Sendrukan landed, letting out a howl of rage. Greg heard her cry out but she kept one arm wrapped around Kuros’s neck, refusing to let go even when the big Sendrukan started grabbing her limbs and swinging wild punches.
Without warning a strange languour settled over Greg’s senses, and the struggle going on just a few yards away slowed down and down. Garments swirled and billowed while those savage movements became drawn-out graceful gestures, which he found curiously amusing, as if he were watching some piece of visual comedy on the vee. Until a bright flash cut through everything, and a stabbing sensation raced from his head down neck and shoulder into his arm and hand, the hand that was still half-curled about the smartgun. His body was his again. He snatched up the weapon and aimed, just as Kuros was drawing back one big fist to strike Cat. Greg yelled and Kuros looked up and round, providing an excellent target. Uttering a bellow of anger, Greg pressed and held down the firing stud, and a chain of bright barbs struck the Sendrukan full in the face.
A scream started but was cut off. Flame and blood burst up and out as the Sendrukan was flung backwards. Hands briefly clutched at empty air, and the limbs jerked for a few seconds before relaxing finally into motionlessness.
The brutal violence was followed by a frozen moment. Then there was movement next to the corpse: Catriona, edging away from the dead Sendrukan. Greg returned the smartgun to its holster then went over to help her to her feet. She seemed to be unhurt and hardly marked with their enemy’s blood.
‘I must say, Miss Macreadie, that you’re looking pretty good for a forest phantom … ’ He suddenly noticed that they were holding each other’s arms. ‘And feeling rather more substantial … ’
Her face lit up with an intense, wordless glee as she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in close enough for her to deliver a long passionate kiss. When they at last broke apart Greg drew in a deep breath and made a quiet whistling sound.
‘Well, that answers one of my questions … ’
‘And mine,’ said Catriona. ‘There were times when I was sure that I’d never get to do that again, or indeed with you … wait, can you hear that?’
‘Hear what?’
‘It’s like a wee voice … ’
They both fell into a hush and Greg could hear it, a faint tinny whisper. Realisation struck and when he raised a hand to his right ear the comm piece was gone. Patting his clothing, he found it in a fold and seconds later had it back in place.
‘ … repeating message, Mr Cameron, please reply … ’
‘Kao Chih, I hear you,’ he said. ‘Sorry, but the damned earpiece fell out.’
‘Understood, Mr Cameron, and I gather that Kuros is no longer a threat, but have you found the transponder? That shuttle is less than ten minutes from your position.’
Greg stared at Catriona in a kind of uncertain panic.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Kuros had a transponder and a Hegemony ship is on its way here!’ He looked upwards, gesturing at the dense veils of foliage. ‘But how can we find it in time?’
‘A transponder, eh?’
When Greg looked back Cat was crouchi
ng over the dead Sendrukan, fumbling and rummaging in the long grey robes. Then she made a satisfied sound, straightened and held out a silver-grey flattened ovoid.
‘Is that it? I saw him fiddling with it earlier.’
Greg described it to Kao Chih, who confirmed that it was the device in question. Quickly Greg took it from Cat’s hand, placed it on the planked platform and brought his heel down on it repeatedly. When it was at last reduced to a scattering of shattered components and casing fragments, Cat took him by the hand and led him away from the scene of death to sit at the foot of the steps leading further up the Watchtree. As they did so, some of the local Uvovo began peering out from hiding places and woven shelters.
‘The transponder has ceased signalling, Mr Cameron,’ Kao Chih said. ‘The rescue shuttle has altered course away from Darien, towards the Hegemony fleet’s marshalling zone.’
‘How’s it all looking, Kao Chih?’ Greg said. ‘D’ye think the fighting’s over?’
‘All sides have suffered crippling losses. The remnants of the Hegemony armada still outnumber the other factions’ surviving vessels by more than ten to one, but High Mandator Azgemiron has made it clear to all sides that warlike behaviour will not be tolerated. None has violated this status. Also it seems like that the greater part of the Hegemony remnants will pull out, leaving behind a symbolic ship or two to keep an eye on developments.’
Greg sighed. ‘Well, I guess that’s something. Look, I’m signing off for a while, Kao Chih – if I don’t get some rest I think I’ll go off my head!’
‘Understood. We will speak again soon.’
He took out the earpiece and slipped it into an inside pocket. Cat moved in closer, put her arms around his chest and hugged him tightly.
‘Segrana … is dead,’ she said softly.
‘I saw the wrecked cyborgs. How … ’
‘Canna talk about it. Not the now.’ She was silent a moment. ‘What’s it like down on Darien?’
‘Last time I was there it was pretty bad, towns half-wrecked or half-burnt, deserted, inhabitants fled into the mountains and forests, just … bad.’
The Ascendant Stars_Book Three of Humanity's Fire Page 48
