Ice Dragon rb-10

by Джеффри Лорд

  «The wisest thing for you would seem to be a return to Treduk territory, along with Nilando. The two of you as a team can travel among their villages, teaching them what you have learned about the Dragons, their Masters, and the ways to deal with them. Every dead Dragon or Dragon Master is a blow to the Ice Master’s strength. We can whittle it away little by little, without risking exposing ourselves by giving the Treduki modern weapons. That would only lead the Conciliators to turn all the fliers and flier-troops against the Treduki at once. In addition, I cannot be altogether sure that some at least of the Treduki would not turn our own weapons against us. But this way, many Ice Dragons will die with the Conciliators being none the wiser. And however many supplies the Ice Master receives from his allies, he can make only so many Dragons and train so many slaves as Masters. In the end-«and Stramod made a neck-wringing gesture with his huge hands.

  Blade nodded, somewhat wearily. The strain on him was considerable. He was having to continuously bite his tongue to keep it from throwing his theory about the aliens out into the open. And also in having to listen to long considerations of Graduk internal politics. Not that these people should not be concerned about them, but he had no need to be, and at the moment what he needed most of all was a chance to get back into action. Preferably fast, bloody action, destructive to the Ice Dragons, the Ice Master, and-? It was quite some time before Blade was able to turn the discussion to practical subjects, such as suitable weaponry for the Treduki to use against the Dragons.

  He had considered teaching the Treduki to rifle their cannon to improve their accuracy, but that would involve months while he taught himself the technique, more months while he taught it to the Treduki, and many more months after that while the cannon were being cast and their gunners retrained. That was for the very long run.

  But there were other possibilities. Various siege engines, similar to those of Home Dimension, not very accurate, but if the Ice Dragons could be induced to come through narrow passages-well, Blade doubted if either Master or Dragon could survive a quarter-ton boulder plummeting out of the skies.

  And there were long poles with hooks or nooses on the end, lassos, bolas, and a host of other possible weapons for hauling Dragon Masters from their saddles, weapons that could be wielded or hurled from beyond the range of a Dragon’s neck and snapping jaws or a Master’s capture web. Together a Master and his Dragon were almost invulnerable and unstoppable; separated they were far easier to defeat.

  Blade spent hours explaining proposed weaponry and tactics, with many sketches and much taking of notes on both sides. They debated materials, transportation, Treduk taboos (comparatively few among the leaders, as Blade had suspected from knowing Nilando, more numerous among the common people). In the end they agreed to give Blade a free hand to develop and try out in the field whatever he thought would work, and a blank check on the Union’s resources in men and materials. They felt themselves under a great obligation to him-he was going back and all but thrusting himself into the Dragon’s jaws-and this made them more willing to aid him.

  It also made Leyndt more passionate than ever before, later in the afternoon at the secluded grove that had become their normal rendezvous. She demanded more and gave more in an endlessly spiraling cycle of raw, rutting passion that left them both spent and limp.

  But she was in a talkative mood when she had recovered her strength. Bit by bit the conversation wandered around to the problems the Union faced in developing methods of fighting the Dragons and their Masters-and of course the supreme enemy, the Ice Master himself.

  «What you have said about the more-primitive-weapons of your dimension makes me wonder. Have we Graduki perhaps grown as decadent as the Treduki, that we didn’t think of these ourselves? I’m not a historian, but I’m sure that in our own history there must have been such weapons. And I wonder whether, if we can overlook something like this, we aren’t perhaps overlooking other important things in our fight against the Ice Master. I think perhaps the greatest thing you’re going to do for us is to be continuously making us see new ways of coping with the problem, even though you aren’t a scientist.»

  «You may be right,» he said without any particular emphasis-his voice as measured as hers usually was. But he was thinking furiously. Was this a good time to mention his theory? She might be as receptive in mind as she was in body, and of all the people in the Union she was certainly the one least likely to laugh at him or brand his judgment unsound. The bouts of love between them, in all their shades and variations, had given him more of a fink to her and her to him, although he doubted whether in the end he would turn out to have much of a hold on her. She did not seem to be that sort of woman.

  «I think there’s something you perhaps aren’t considering,» he began. «Do you really believe that the Ice Master gets his resources from the villages he raids and from secret allies among the Conciliators?»

  «That seems to be a reasonable theory. He can hardly raise cattle or grow grain, or breed slaves in the glacierland.»

  It had occurred to Blade that the Ice Master might indeed be doing just that, back when he was reviewing the objections to his theory of aliens. But then he had rejected it. Large-scale agriculture on the ice cap would require far more power than could be generated without atomic energy, and he found it hard to believe that the Ice Master could have made all the engineering breakthroughs needed to go from atomic theory to a working atomic reactor-at least by himself. If the Ice Master was doing anything that needed vast amounts of power, it was yet another argument in favor of the presence of a superior and alien technology.

  «But have you ever found the Ice Master’s allies, or had any clues as to who they might be?»

  «Not yet. But we assume they’re among the Conciliators. After all, what better way could they find of living up to their name than by aiding the Ice Master, even in secret? I expect that when we can infiltrate the Conciliators as thoroughly as we would like to, we’ll find the answer. And then we can take action.»

  «That’s all well and good. But I don’t think the Conciliators are anywhere near the root of this problem.» He took a deep breath to cover the pause while he searched for the exact formula of words. «I think-«

  He broke off as he noticed she was staring over his shoulder, her eyes wide and her mouth just beginning to open to speak-or scream. He turned his head in the same direction and saw two men in familiar blue uniforms slip out of a patch of shrubbery, beamers at the ready, looking cautiously about them. Without a sound he gestured toward a clump of bushes five feet off to their left. Flattening himself on the grass he crawled into them and lay motionless, Leyndt beside him, staring out at the two men. Even if they had not been wearing uniforms, Blade would have recognized their hard, ruthless manner as that of Conciliator thugs.

  «They’ve come in, on the ground,» Leyndt began. «How-«but Blade cut her off with a hand over her mouth. He was furiously trying to work out a plan of action, worried but not entirely unhappy about the chance to settle a few more scores with the Conciliators’ soldiery. After a moment he turned to Leyndt.

  «Take off your poncho and step out in plain sight.»

  Her mouth opened in surprise.

  «Yes. If they’re planning to capture us, they won’t do anything. If they’re planning to burn us down, they may still get different ideas when you step out there. Either way, it will surprise them enough to make them off-guard.»

  She nodded and started struggling out of the poncho. Blade helped her. When she was nude, she grinned nervously at him, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and crawled out into the open. She stood up, hands at her sides, and stepped into view of the soldiers. Blade saw them stiffen, stare, then one stepped forward with his beamer held negligently in one hand, while the other covered him.

  In the moment that the first soldier was blocking the other’s line of fire, Blade moved. He came out of the bush in a single tigerish leap, head and shoulder slamming into the first soldier’s ribcage. He heard the ri
bs smash and saw the man fly into the air like a mortar shell. Before he had hit the ground Blade had recovered his balance, dropped to the ground under a crackling blast from the second man’s beamer, and pivoted around on his arms to smash his legs into the man’s knees. He went down, and Blade chopped him across the throat with a flattened hand before he could rise. The first soldier was still writhing and gasping, but before Blade could do anything, Leyndt picked up one of the beamers and burned a hole in the man’s skull. Then she dropped the beamer, sagged to the ground, and spent the next couple of minutes being very sick indeed.

  When her stomach had heaved itself empty, she tottered to her feet and took Blade’s arm. He smiled grimly at her. «Don’t worry about that. The same thing happened to me the first time I had to kill somebody to get out of a tight spot. But I had to get used to it. I hope you won’t have to.»

  She nodded feebly. «What do we do now?»

  «Head back to the main buildings and find out how far this has gone. If they’re infiltrating through the grounds, we may be able to pick off more as we hit them from the rear. That way we can warn the people in the main buildings and they can deal with the rest as they come in.» That came very much under the heading of whistling in the dark, Blade thought. If the Conciliator goons had any sense, they would have hit the main buildings first and hardest, then started combing the grounds. He and Leyndt might be walking into a series of ready ambushes. But there was no point in being wildly pessimistic, particularly when all that could do was frighten Leyndt. She was going to have to go through this thing on her nerves as it was; Blade had seen too many amateurs like her suddenly pitchforked into a sticky situation.

  They began their stalking approach to the main buildings. They had nearly half a mile to go, but even so Blade was surprised at the silence from ahead. No explosions, no shouting, not even the distance-muted crackle of a heatbeamer. Both of them held beamers ready, although Leyndt kept looking at hers as if she expected it to turn around and bite her. Blade, although he was less familiar with the beamers, held his with the same assurance as he would have a Home Dimension submachine gun. It was just another weapon. One learned how to use it and then used it.

  They moved cautiously, slipping from one patch of cover to another. As they moved farther forward, they began to hear voices, soldiers calling to one another as though they were shouting across a noisy barroom. The Conciliator soldiery, it seemed, might not be as professional as they looked. Or perhaps they were just more nervous facing their own people, who might fight back, than when they were slaughtering Treduki with nothing better than arrows and muskets to fight with. Well, he was going to justify that nervousness.

  As they rose from behind a line of flowering shrubs, Blade saw a soldier amble into the middle of the clearing they would have to cross to get to the next bit of cover. Leyndt raised her beamer, but Blade shook his head. They were getting close in, and the crackle of a beamer would alert the other soldiers certain to be within earshot. He watched the soldier closely, saw him wander over behind a tree, open the clasp of his trousers and pull down his fly.

  Before the soldier could get any farther with his business, Blade covered the space between them in three strides, rammed his fist into the man’s stomach, and finished him off as he toppled with the butt of the beamer across the back of the neck. A moment later Blade realized that he had made a nearly fatal mistake, for whether as a trap or merely as a precaution, another soldier on the far side of the clearing had been covering his victim.

  He felt the air turn hot above his head and the beam-crackle tore at his ears. All that saved him was the other man’s eagerness, which made him fire high. Blade felt his beamer buck in his hands as the other’s second shot chopped it into two pieces like a butcher chopping sausage. Then Blade whipped both arms forward in quick throws, hurling the halves of his beamer at the soldier. They were clumsy missiles, but heavy enough, hard enough, and moving fast enough when they hit to do the job. The other man’s beamer spun out of his disabled arm, and as he bent to retrieve it Blade’s hurtling foot took him under the chin so hard it seemed to Blade the man’s head would fly from his shoulders and soar through the air like a football.

  Blade snatched up the weapon and motioned Leyndt forward into cover. She came at a run, and they both huddled flat on their stomachs under the bushes while shouts and running footsteps showed that the cordon around the main buildings had finally taken notice of the attack from their rear. Blade hoped they would be too excited to search thoroughly-or, if they did, that this would give him and Leyndt a chance to break through to the main buildings. The absence of explosions suggested that the main buildings could still be holding out. Stramod had done a thorough job of modifying them for defense, and they had been robust and well built to begin with. Without explosives or gas, the soldiers would have a rather futile time trying to stamp out resistance quickly.

  In a lull in the shouting Blade and Leyndt shifted their hiding place to another grove farther from the bodies of their latest victims and hit the ground again as the uproar redoubled. Apart from their lack of skill, Blade also doubted if the Conciliator soldiers were sufficiently numerous to conduct a bush-by-bush search of the rear while still maintaining their cordon.

  But to his surprise he suddenly heard the soldiers’ shouting pick up again, each man relaying a call on to his neighbor. Unmistakably, undeniably, the shouts traveled around a large circle. He and Leyndt were inside that circle. His military background was quite enough to fill in the details of what would happen next. With a defined area to search, the soldiers could look under every bush and up into every tree, burning anything suspicious. If the men in the circle were sufficiently far apart, he and Leyndt might have a reasonable chance of breaking through to safety. But no matter how tight the circle was, he knew their chances of breaking through it were bound to be better than their chances of survival inside it.

  He and Leyndt began to move slowly toward the shouting. The shrubbery they were hidden in stretched some thirty feet in the right direction, providing good cover that far. But closely packed branches had to be wriggled around and through, with crackings, gruntings, and tearing of skin and clothing. Outside, the circle of shouting continued. Was it contracting? Blade heard the unmistakable and unwelcome crackle of a beamer, then saw ahead the daylight at the end of the shrubbery. He crawled forward the last yards and carefully peered out. Two soldiers stood on either side of a tree, so close it seemed they could look him in the eye if he raised his head a little more. Beyond the tree they flanked the woods thickened again. But between Blade and the men was twenty feet of completely open space. And as the shouts went around the circle again, Blade heard them respond to a call from close off to the right, and pass it on to be answered from close to their left.

  He and Leyndt might use the distraction trick again. But even if they could take out the two soldiers facing them, as many as four more might have clear fields of fire. Unless he could get to such close quarters that the others might not be willing to risk hitting their own comrades by firing. Blade had seen the beamers in action enough to know that they were questionably accurate beyond about forty yards.

  He turned and prodded Leyndt gently in the shoulder to get her attention and told her the situation and plan. Again she nodded, but this time her grin was almost impish. She was beginning to enjoy the adventure, its reduction of life to uncomplicated struggles for survival. Her fear was gone, or perhaps merely being contained now by exhilaration. Blade was glad she was no longer frightened but hoped she would not become overconfident and careless. He had seen two agents die that way.

  There was no room for Leyndt to wriggle out of her poncho, but it was by now so badly torn by the bushes that she was able to simply rip it off. Then she licked her lips and pushed herself forward and out. Blade saw the soldiers gape as she appeared, without loosening their grip on their beamers. But for a moment their eyes were entirely on Leyndt, and in that moment Blade hurled himself forward.


  The soldiers did not gape at him, however. The one closest to Leyndt grabbed her by the hair and jerked her down on the ground after him; she screamed and fell with a thud, sprawled across the soldier. The other one ducked behind the tree before Blade was halfway across the open space.

  Then the air crackled over his head and beside his feet as the two flanking guard teams fired, missing him by so little that he felt the heated air sear his skin. He cut hard to the right to throw their aim off, ducked low to avoid the beam of the soldier behind the tree-then heard another scream from Leyndt.

  The soldier holding her was now kneeling over her, both his knees slammed down hard on her arms, immobilizing them and grinding them painfully into the ground. On her bare shoulder was now a small charred patch-still smoking. The soldier glared with a combination of anger, hatred, fear, and lust in his eyes that revolted Blade, and snarled, «All right, you bastard! Next time I take off her ear. Time after that-«he gestured rather than speaking. Blade stopped and stood motionless as the soldier from behind the tree stepped into view and ordered him to raise his hands over his head, then called out to his companions.

  They came running up from both flanks, four more of them, with four more beyond them crashing through the bushes behind the first two pairs. Again the shouts went around the circle, and Blade heard the cheers and the swelling sound of running feet as the whole circle broke up.

  The soldiers stripped Blade, tied him to the tree, slapped him around enough to open a cut in his lower lip and make his face feel like a bad case of sunburn. They then turned to Leyndt, still pinned to the ground by the soldier. The look in their eyes showed what they were planning to do with her as clearly as if it had been inscribed in letters of fire in the air. And the trapped-animal expression in Leyndt’s eyes showed what she thought of the idea; her expression, and the low moaning noise from her throat, broken by an occasional sob. Blade flexed arms and legs, trying to find some play in the ropes that bound him, or if he couldn’t find some, make some. But the knots, crude as they were, seemed for the moment too tight. He had not much hope of survival, but he did hope for a chance to take a few more Conciliator soldiers with him.