by Pam Uphoff
His first cast of the weighted rope sailed easily over the top of the wall.
He climbed up, Nighthawk right after. The rope whipped out of sight, and Ebsa retreated past the sentries' path.
He knelt on the muddy ground beside a bush and thought unnoticeable thoughts. The next sentry plodded past without glancing his way.
A mental curse from Ra'd. :: Dr. Yffi walked out to talk to them. "Of course they're just scientists like us. What else could they possibly be doing here?" Acty says the Helaos laughed at him, and charged the ramp. At least he had the guts to raise it. ::
:: One damn it all. Yffi? ::
:: Pistol whipped and hauled off. Pie thinks they took him away earlier today. I wonder if they wanted to ask him about our raid? ::
:: Well . . . are we stupid enough to do it again? :: Ebsa looked back in the direction of the crawler. They'll be watching for us.
:: Ask me after we find out if the gate is underwater in that gully. ::
:: Oh . . . :: Ebsa winced.
:: Nighthawk's gone to check. ::
:: And I'm back. They moved the gate up out of the gully, and shifted the corridor a bit too. Dad says they'll keep the gate open as long as possible. If they have to close it, they'll open another a hundred miles north of here. ::
Another long silence, another wet miserable sentry pacing past.
:: The scientists are griping, but moving . . . :: A long pause. ::Scientists all gone, Team Forty-eight has evacced, except us. So? What do you think? ::
:: Leave the corridor in place, in case the director wants to send troops. You two take the corridor. I'm going to get the crawler. Meet you at the gully. We'll start a new corridor there, haul the end with us again. Then we can just duck out at need. We've got to at least try to get Yffi back. ::
He could nearly see Ra'd grin. :: Ha! I knew you'd say that. Which is why Nighthawk and I will be right down. With the night vision goggles. ::
Nighthawk's bright mental voice joined in. :: After all, City Boy, you know you'd get lost in the dark and the storm. ::
:: I started out as a Farm Boy. The city stuff is all a recent veneer. ::
The next sentry slogged past. The rope dropped.
The sentry whipped around, mouth opening . . .
Ebsa nailed him with the stun rifle, and he dropped limply into the mud.
Ra'd and Nighthawk shinnied down, shook the rope loose, and eased across damp ground to join him. The night vision goggles were . . . not horrible. Good enough to run for the crawler, as someone behind them found the stunned guard.
"We'll avoid the gully and draw them away." Ebsa winced. "We can start a corridor somewhere just a couple of kilometers away from the gate."
Wet brush and grass, slick wet ground . . . fit or not, he was panting when he galloped up to the crawler, a dozen strides behind the other two. Heard running footsteps behind him.
He pulled up a shield . . . felt the impact and the oddly muffled report . . . blinked at wet grass and mud . . . Two loud shots. When did I fall down? Why is my back starting to really . . .
Chapter Twelve
2 Rajab 1405 yp
World EM 0925
Short painful shallow breaths . . .
"It's not bad. Let's get him into the crawler . . . "
Nighthawk. That's Nighthawk's voice . . . Ebsa yipped as he was grabbed . . . started to grab back . . . decided to do all grabbing with his left hand . . . He got his feet under his center of balance—mostly—and wobbled up to the crawler. Fumbled at the steps and got lifted in.
"Lie down on your bunk, I need to see your back. Ra'd, get us out of here."
He thought about putting his arms out and putting weight on them . . . "How about if I just sort of kneel?" He swayed as the crawler started forward. Knelt carefully.
"That will work."
He started fumbling with buttons and she snorted. "It's got a bullet hole in it. I can just cut it off."
He kept fumbling. "I go through more field khakis . . . "
She muttered something under her breath and undid the rest, the cuffs. Eased the shirt off his left shoulder, and very carefully lifted it off his right.
"I don't remember getting shot."
"That's not uncommon. The sudden shock to the system."
"Hold on, there's going be a bump!" Ra'd from up front.
Ebsa grabbed left-handed, and leaned on the bunk. Didn't quite go airborne. The crawler thumped back down. He didn't quite scream. Mainly because he couldn't breathe deeply enough to scream.
"Sorry, but it did take care of two problems."
"What . . ." Ebsa swallowed and got his voice down into its usual timber. "What problems?"
"The soldier on the roof and the soldiers ahead of us."
"Oh."
"The bullet didn't penetrate very deeply." Cool fingers had him cringing. "You must have been putting up a shield. Then it hit the rib. Broke it, but stopped there. Bruised the hell out of the surrounding tissues." The fingers withdrew, reached over his shoulder and showed him a bloody pellet. "Want it for a souvenir?"
"Err, no thank you. Why can't I take a deep breath?"
"Because of the hard blow to your back. And did I mention a broken rib? Nasty splintered section. Hold on a minute while I get something . . . "
"So why didn't I have the brains God gave chickens and have a shield up already?"
Nighthawk started laughing. "The brains God gave chickens! Oh, I'm stealing that."
"My Mom uses it a lot. Generally when speaking to me."
"Drink this."
A single swallow of . . . wine? It hit his stomach and headed south with a rush of energy and . . . and lust . . . and . . . as she reached to take the glass, he reached for her . . . snatched his hands back. Holy One, Nighthawk is so sexy and . . . so Ra'd's . . . and so deadly . . . Why am I . . . "Is that what I think it is?"
"Yep. Just keep your hands to yourself for a few minutes until you get a grip on it, and you'll be fine."
"Holy . . ." He turned back to the bunk, because of this really embarrassing, umm, frontal problem.
She grabbed one shoulder in a firm grip, to keep him still. It still sent a thrill through him. Her fingers caressed his back . . . All right they were poking and probing. He didn't need to sexualize a medical examination. Now if Paer were here . . . I'd sexualize the hell out of it. He moved his right shoulder carefully.
"There. Now lie down for a few minutes and let the wine work."
He shifted carefully and lay on his face, trying not to, umm, embarrass himself further.
He blinked awake . . . rotated his shoulder and took a deep breath. "Well. That was nearly as much fun as playing with a T-Rex."
He staggered up to the driving deck and stared out at the low-light display.
Ra'd tossed a grin over his shoulder. "We're headed a little south of due east, so they hopefully won't discover the gate. We've been spotted twice, but somehow it always started raining even harder just then. Of course, between the storm and the night, we don't actually know where they are either." Kilometers past the gate, he cut north on a well-worn trail. As the rain eased, visibility improved.
Nighthawk tapped Ra'd's shoulder. "Stop a minute. I'll pin a corridor to that old dead tree. I'll leave it closed—I'll have to go through on foot to open it before the crawler can go through. But they won't be able to find it, and we'll be able to get here from anywhere."
Ra'd stopped while she dashed out, stood up. "Can you drive? I could do with some sleep."
"Yeah. I feel terrific. Damn, that stuff is good."
Ra'd snickered. "And I didn't even have to kill you for groping my fiancée."
"I told you. Witches do not marry!" Nighthawk hopped back inside.
Ebsa eased into the seat and headed out. Grinning. Collision of cultures. Not to mention stubborn, opinionated, independent, and arrogant members of each culture. This has entertainment potential.
And told himself he wasn't envious when they both headed
for bed. The bunks are too narrow for anything but . . . young love.
Steering was . . .not painful, but there were occasional twinges from his back reminding him to move with restraint. No danger he was going to fall asleep.
Dawn found them dropping down the game trail and into the lake. Ebsa turned north. They were going to need to circle very wide around the Helaos base before they approached it. Ebsa stuck to the east edge of the lake, in the early morning shadows. To the north end of the lake where the storm runoff had doubled the size of the river. It poured with silent power into the lake. Ebsa shook his head. "Nope, time to find someplace to get out of the water." He let the current push them back down the lake to the last spot he'd eyed. "We may have to chop a few trees to get through there, but we can at least get under the trees and out of sight before we get stuck."
A yawning Ra'd glanced out the windshield and nodded. "The batteries could use some charging time as well. At least four hours, in the shade."
Ebsa engaged the wheels and fed them power as they touched down, disengaged the screw, and dodged the larger trees until they were up the bank and into thicker growth. He spotted a break in the canopy and stopped where the sunlight was slanting through. He sat back with a sigh. "Let's take a break and decide if it's safe to move in daylight."
"When you guys fix this poor crawler, you should paint it something dark. The metal reflects too much light." Nighthawk grabbed absolutely nothing, reached in and pulled out a large covered bowl. "I need to turn the eggs."
"Breakfast?" Ebsa leaned to look. "Oh. The Triceratops eggs?"
"The scientists were going to dump them, since they didn't have import permits." She shrugged. "I was curious, so I took them."
Ebsa surveyed her nonchalant pretense of indifference. Swapped amused glances with Ra'd. :: Big tough warrior chick with a soft spot for baby dinosaurs? ::
:: Shh! She's cute when she shows her soft side. ::
:: You think she's cute all the time. ::
:: No I don't. I think she's elegant and deadly. ::
Nighthawk eyed them suspiciously. "And I ought to charge the batteries."
Ebsa plugged the incubator in and turned to the fabricator. "So, scrambled eggs?"
After a rather bland breakfast of totally artificial food-like substances, Nighthawk examined her triceratops eggs. "Maybe I ought to speed bubble them. I have no idea how long it takes for them to hatch . . . " She cradled an egg and closed her eyes. "They're a week old, and I can see some embryonic development in two of them. Good." She shifted all the eggs around and closed them back in their incubator.
Ebsa watched, frustrated, as she grabbed a handful of nothing, stared at it for a long moment, then made the incubator disappear into it.
"There. At twenty to one, another day or two may be enough." She grinned at their expressions. "Of course I'll have to rotate the eggs every fifteen minutes." Her grin widened. "Poor Oners. Does it hurt to know some people can do things you are not genetically capable of?"
Ebsa glared.
But Ra'd grinned. "I enjoy watching it, myself. Bruised egos all around."
Ebsa switched his glare to Ra'd. "And your ego is indestructible, is it?"
"I am very good at what I'm good at. I have no burning desire to be fantastic at everything." He gestured at Nighthawk. "I leave that to others."
Nighthawk's blush was detectable despite her deep complexion. "Flatterer!"
Ebsa gave up and laughed.
They fabbed up some green paint and glued little twigs all over the crawler. Tied some large branches on, roping them between the windows, where they could easily cut them loose so they could dash through a gate. It looked horrible.
"No one could possibly be fooled." Ebsa shook his head. "And it's really ugly. Half the branches will fall off the first kilometer and if they spot us moving?"
"Pessimist. Flip you for who drives and who sleeps."
"And I want driving lessons." Nighthawk grinned. "Oh, don't look so horrified. I can drive, I've just never driven one of these things."
"You left your wagon in the fort. The Helios are probably taking it apart."
Nighthawk made a rude gesture.
Ebsa snickered. "Ra'd, you'd better let me do the teaching. You can't yell at her when she does something stupid."
Ra'd opened his mouth . . . closed it. "Right. I'll just go fetal in my bunk."
Nighthawk made a rude gesture and followed Ebsa up to the driving deck.
Ebsa took the driver's seat. "Let me get it out of the trees and explain the controls. Then you can take over."
A bit to his surprise, most of the roped on vegetation stayed put. Nighthawk caught on quickly to the six shifters, one for each wheel.
"Each wheel has its own electric motor, so it's just forward, neutral and reverse, and the pattern of the levers matches the wheels. So in a tight spot, you can put one side in reverse and one forward, not that it doesn't make a mess and skid around, but occasionally you can get into a nasty spot and need to do it. The main problem with crawlers is that having been built for gate transits the wheelbase is a bit narrow for the widest part of the cylindrical body. They roll rather easily. Especially if you try to track along a slope. If it starts to tip, turn downhill or uphill quickly." Ebsa stopped the crawler and turned it over to her.
"No other gears?"
"No. Electric motors don't need . . . well, plus our top speed is probably only fifty klicks."
"Kilometers per hour? Like, maybe thirty-five miles per hour? And here I thought you were trying to draw those Helaos in closer, for the Maiasaurs to mush." She shifted all forward and drove smoothly and gently. "I'm glad I had sense enough to not tell you to stop playing around."
Ebsa cleared his throat. "Actually that sounds better than just hoping really hard I had enough of a head start to pull it off."
She cruised around a low hill and followed the swale eastward. No problem. Ebsa took a gun up to the roof and watched for drones or other vehicles. They moved slowly, stopping near trees frequently for a survey ahead.
The sound of engines had them scooting for cover.
Chapter Thirteen
3 Rajab 1405 yp
World EM 0925
Ebsa stepped out, 12mm in hand and watched from behind a scraggly tree as something that looked like a tracked personnel carrier ground past.
"We should kill them, just so there are five less soldiers and one less transport to attack us later." Ra'd had the 20mm, of course, tracking the carrier.
"But then they'd have a pretty good idea where we are and which direction we were moving." Ebsa scowled as one of the soldiers jerked to his feet, pointing their direction. "Oh, all right. Kill them."
The 20mm roared. The carrier exploded. Bodies flew.
"You know, those penetrating explosive frag rounds are sometimes overkill. But effective. I'll give you that."
One of the bodies was trying to crawl.
"Do you suppose they'll want prisoners to interrogate?" Ra'd scowled down at the flaming wreck.
Ebsa untucked from his rifle. "Umm, Nighthawk? Can you catch a bubble we can stash injured prisoners in?"
"Oh sure." Rustling from the crawler. Nighthawk popped out with two long wooden spoons. "I attached it to these, so you can use it."
Ebsa took them, spread them to see the bronze inside of a bag. "Cool. Be right back."
He jogged quickly out to the smoking remains of the carrier. The round must have hit the engine block, it was in several pieces. He pulled a moaning Helaos away from a pool of burning fuel and sat him up, spread the spoons and swooped them over the man. Totally excellent, the way he sort of got sucked across the threshold. Ebsa walked to the crawling man, kicked his pistol out of his hand and with a bit of prying, got him in the bubble as well. The other three were either dead, or close enough that he couldn't quickly see otherwise. He put the spoons together, grabbed a couple of the weapons lying about, and ran for the crawler. They headed south, zig-zagging between groves of t
rees.
They stopped at noon, just inside the southern edge of a grove of trees, so the light was bright on the skin of the crawler . . .
"Will it charge with that paint all over it?"
"Yes. I got paint that was transparent at about half the visible spectrum, just not reflective. Stop worrying, Nanny."
Ebsa chewed fingernails, then fooled with the roped on branches to maximize sun exposure while still breaking up the crawler's outline.
He tried to get the fab to produce something edible and watched Nighthawk occasionally reach into nowhere to shift her eggs around. Is this how the Multitude sees us? The Natives of other worlds? Earth? People who can do something unattainable?
On the other hand . . . maybe I can't, but what about the half Oner children of Wolfson's. Or, of course . . .
"Is Oak going to be able to do dimensional stuff?"
Nighthawk shrugged. "We haven't actually figured out the genetics. It's definitely at least two genes, possibly four or five in several different combinations that enables the talent. Oak has the only one that we're sure of. We'll see in a decade or two . . . well, after I settle down and raise her. Not that it really matters, probably less than ten percent of witches have dimensional abilities, and on a day-to-day basis they aren't all that useful." She flashed a grin at Ra'd. "But if one is determined to get across and see someone special, it's going to be handy."
Ra'd nodded. "I will think on ways to get assigned to Disco. Or at least the embassy on Embassy. Perhaps Disco's exploration section could use some trained directorate agents."
Nighthawk's grin flashed again. "I'll ask Q."
Ebsa rubbed his face. "Right. So . . . where are we relative to their base? By the inertial system, which may not be working very well, given a few rough jolts and gentle lake currents, we're three kilometers east northeast."
Ra'd leaned back, eyes narrowed. "We need to find Dr. Yffi."
