Dire Steps

by Henry V. O'Neil

  “Is that what you’re looking at now?”

  “No. I’ve got the intelligence section on the Dauntless helping me. Sims wearing that heat shielding are hidden inside this footage, so if we can recalibrate the sensors to pick that up, we’ll be back in business. We’ve already got new readings for the unshielded Sims dragging those firepots, just because we got out here and examined the ground where they pulled that diversion. They shouldn’t be able to get away with that again.”

  Mortas stared at the screen, watching the fire start at Broadleaf and remembering the altered combat smock on the dead Sim. “Hey sir, how come they wore the special smocks onto Broadleaf? They had to figure they’d take casualties, and Sam’s been showing good discipline hiding things from us. Why didn’t they have the assault force take off their smocks?”

  Pappas reached up with a grimy hand and wiped perspiration from his upper lip. “Keep this to yourself. The consensus is that Broadleaf was in real trouble, but that they might have made it if they hadn’t called in rockets on themselves. The fire probably didn’t collapse the building; the skipper of the Dauntless thinks our ordnance did that.

  “Sam knows that our own weapons are sometimes our biggest enemy. He wanted to panic the guys inside Broadleaf—­so the assault team wore the smocks to muddy the situation as much as possible.”

  “How many of them do you think we’re up against?”

  “Impossible to say, but based on all the work they’ve done out here, just in the parts of the jungle we’ve seen, it’s at least a hundred. Which bears out the earlier suspicion that Sam somehow got reinforced. We haven’t seen any new equipment yet, which makes me think it’s another group of holdouts who somehow linked up with the gang that’s been messing with the stations for years.”

  “Big planet, no doubt there were more of them elsewhere.”

  “Sure. But what brought them here? How do you find the only piece of civilization in the middle of a giant wilderness?”

  The answer fell into place for Mortas with a mental thud, and he realized it was the solution to the puzzle that had been plaguing him all day. The sensation of an important piece of information, something familiar to him, flitting around just beyond his recognition.

  “Sir, is there any way to check the flight patterns around the stations, going back a long time?”

  “Of course. The satellites send out a continuous feed of everything they detect, and it’s all archived. What are you getting at?”

  “When I was marooned on Roanum, we were hoping to see aircraft of any kind. If we did, we figured it might show us the way to habitation.”

  “I understand. But all the drones, resupply or gunship, stick pretty close to the stations. A gang of remnants a hundred miles away wouldn’t be able to see them.”

  “That’s why I think you should check the flight paths. Our friends at Almighty aren’t happy to have us in the area, and nobody really knows what they’re doing here. What if they were sending drones way way out, then bringing them back low over the jungle so they’d be seen?”

  “That would probably bring Sam here, and he would have found his buddies. But why would Almighty do that?”

  “Why weren’t they dropping rockets on Sam’s light shows all these months? Maybe they wanted him to come calling.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ayliss awoke slowly, even though the entire building was shaking and the air outside was filled with the roars of straining engines. The membranes inside her nose and mouth were dry, and her stomach was queasy, but she knew where she was and that she’d been ill. She sat up, surprised to find that she felt extremely rested. Daylight glowed in the corridor and throughout her room, which seemed loaded with medical gear. An empty chair was next to the bed, and she remembered Blocker swabbing her face with a wet towel.

  Somewhere far above there was a low boom, which she recognized as an ore transport breaking through the planet atmosphere. The air in the room was warm, and she pushed the bedclothes aside before standing on bare feet. A loose medical gown covered her, and Ayliss didn’t bother to look for something more substantial before walking into the corridor. Though her body felt strong, her brain was pleasantly fuzzy as she went down the empty hallway. More engines kicked into life on top of the mountain, and she felt the tremors through the soles of her feet. Something big was happening, but she felt no need to hurry.

  Emerging on the high porch that ran around the building, Ayliss squinted in the sunlight. She took in the familiar structures nearby, and the pressed brown dirt where the road led to the veterans’ underground settlement. She’d ridden down that track just before falling ill, and her face reddened with the memory of how badly she’d mishandled the angry meeting with Hemsley. Seeing again the burn marks on his torso, and the bodies of the two dead veterans. Deelia had been one of them, and the Banshees had been disappointed by Ayliss’s response.

  She’d asked Lee to smooth things over. No, that wasn’t true—­or at least not the complete truth. She’d begged him to do something to get her back in the veterans’ good graces, calling on his love to fix what she’d broken. He’d agreed, and now the alarm began to pass through her. Where was he?

  “Minister.” It was Blocker, standing behind her, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the launches. Too many liftoffs, but what did it mean?

  Ayliss turned, about to ask, and saw the grief on the big man’s face. She’d seen it only once before, when he’d told her that her mother was gravely ill. She remembered pretending not to understand, hoping that if she couldn’t comprehend the news that it wasn’t true. A child’s reaction, and she was no longer a child.

  “It’s Lee, isn’t it?”

  “I’m so very sorry, Ayliss. Lee infiltrated the spacedrome with that Spartacan deserter, Tupelo. They blew up both of Rittle’s gunships, but then they got spotted. Lee made it out, but he was too badly wounded.” Blocker cleared his throat. “He’s gone.”

  Sorrow should have risen inside her, but it did not. Anger, her lifelong companion, rose instead, roaring all around her, scourging her, demanding revenge. Another loved one had been taken from her, and someone was to blame. Rittle. He’d set this whole thing in motion, when his gunships had attacked Hemsley’s ­people. Her rage told Ayliss the rest, that the station manager had poisoned her—­just enough to get her out of the way.

  She raised a finger at the sky. “Is that why they’re leaving? They’re running away?”

  Blocker appeared confused for a moment, but he mastered it quickly. “No, Minister, that’s something very different—­although they are running away. The Step’s been suspended indefinitely, and Rittle believes the station could be attacked by the Sims. He offered to take us with them, but I said you’d refused.”

  The anger bellowed in her head, echoing with the blind resentment that Rittle was already beyond her reach. It began to redirect itself at the man standing before her, the one tasked with her safety, the one who was supposed to care so much about her, but then a larger question forced itself to the front.

  “Why is the Step suspended?”

  “I’ve confirmed this with Minister Corlipso by secure transmission, but it originally came from Rittle. Your father has disappeared, and they’re looking for him now. The suspension will last as long as the search does.”

  The anger subsided, replaced by cold analysis. Ayliss looked up at the sky, tilting her head slightly so that the tear that threatened to overflow her eyelid was contained. “He told me he was going to attempt something using the Step, something dangerous. Did Rittle seem to know anything about that?”

  “No. He only said that your father had disappeared after his wedding, and that Minister Corlipso was not traveling with him.”

  “That was the plan.” Ayliss closed her eyes, forcing her mind to focus on their current situation. “All right. You did the right thing, refusing Rittle’s offer. I need to get cle
aned up, and then we’re going to go see Hemsley.”

  “I refused Rittle’s offer because I didn’t want to put you in his hands. That’s the only reason I didn’t take you to the station infirmary as soon as you got sick. But without the Step, this whole place is wide open to Sim raiders. We need to consider other means of getting away from here.”

  Sims. The enemy that had lurked in the shadows for her entire life. Their decades-­long aggression had shaped most of the decisions that had cost her so much, and now they were coming. The anger blossomed, eager, expectant. Ayliss stared up at Blocker. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  “Check everything, and I mean everything. It’ll be just like those bastards to booby-­trap something that’ll blow up the whole station.” Hemsley, his face shiny with burn salve, spoke into a radio handset as Ayliss and Blocker approached. Several of the veterans’ trucks were lined up in front of the tunnel entrance, obviously primed to loot the now-­empty mining station.

  “And what if we accidentally trip this booby trap?” a male voice asked, trepidation clear even over the handset.

  “We’ll write your folks a very nice note. Get going; we don’t know how much time we have.”

  Hemsley handed the microphone to the truck’s driver before turning to face the new arrivals. “My condolences, Minister. Your Selkirk was a good man.”

  “Thank you, and thank you for bringing him back.”

  “The Banshees did that. They were covering him and Tupelo from outside the wire, and they say he went right up and over the fence despite his injuries. Quite impressive. The whole settlement knows what he did for us.”

  Ayliss glanced at the parked vehicles, as if looking for a way to change the subject. “You’re not wasting any time.”

  “None to waste. We’ve cut through the fencing near the spacedrome, and right now I’ve got my ­people checking the place for explosives. We have to strip everything of value, get it onto the vehicles, and then get away from this place. We’ve had safe locations identified for some time, and stocked them with supplies in case we had to spread out.” He allowed himself a short laugh. “Honestly, we thought we’d be fighting the Guests, but apparently they decided to live up to their name. This part of space is loaded with Sim raid ships, and they’re going to come here unless the Step is restored right away. We’re trying to contact McRaney, to see if he can give us early warning.”

  “He’ll want something for that.”

  “Thank you, Minister. I never would have guessed that.”

  “You’re going to pay him off in Go-­Three.”

  “I doubt there’s going to be any left up there. Rittle had four transports on station, and they didn’t lift off empty.”

  “I’m not talking about his ore. I’m talking about yours.”

  “We’re not miners, Minister. There was a little in the tunnels when we got here, but that’s gone.”

  “There’s a lot more down there, mined by the previous owners. You’ve been using it to buy supplies and weapons. Otherwise, McRaney wouldn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “Ever think we might be friends? I been out here a long time.”

  “You refused to give me and my party lodging, and you kept Lee out of certain tunnels because they’re loaded with Go-­Three. You’re planning to buy some help with what’s left—­admit it.”

  “All right, that’s all true. What of it?”

  Ayliss gave Blocker a meaningful look, and he walked off several paces. Understanding, Hemsley limped to the back of the truck while Ayliss followed.

  Ayliss spoke first. “You can use the ore to pay for help, or you can offer McRaney something better. A steady gig, a legal one, hauling Go-­Three.”

  “I’d have to have the rights, if I was to make an offer like that.”

  “You do. Zone Quest has left, and that means this entire planet belongs to the colony.”

  “Begging your pardon, Minister, but somebody higher in your chain of command might disagree with that once the emergency’s passed.”

  “They can disagree all they want, but if you fight for this place, it’s going to make quite a story on the Bounce. Hard for them to take it away from you once that happens.”

  “Fight with what? We’ve managed to lay in a good supply of weapons, but this isn’t a mustered-­out infantry battalion. Most of my ­people were technicians who didn’t know one end of a Scorpion from the other before I got to training them. Honestly, even now they don’t know much more than that.”

  “We’ve got the Banshees, and a good number of combat vets—­not to mention the senior leadership of you and Blocker.”

  “Blocker’s gonna insist on staying right with you.”

  “Not if you remind him that he’s a combat leader of recent experience, and that there are veterans of this war who need him in that capacity.”

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, Minister, but I can’t make my ­people fight. Even with the promise of winning the colony.”

  “You won’t have to. Put me in front of them, and I’ll sell it.”

  Hemsley gave her the same look she’d seen at her installation ceremony, a mix of appraisal and suspicion. “Just what are you up to, Minister?”

  Her feet moved more slowly, the farther Ayliss got down the tunnel. Veterans were rushing everywhere, moving all the things she hadn’t been allowed to see in the days before. Rifles, explosives, and a multitude of ammunition crates went by as she walked.

  “He’s in here, Minister.” Lola spoke from one of the arched openings. She and the remaining Banshees were dressed in black fatigues, and had silently formed up around Ayliss before leading her toward the room.

  Her joints still ached from her sickness, but her mind was clear and that was why it was taking her so long to reach the doorway. A whirlwind of emotions should have been swirling in her head: grief, guilt, loss, resentment, and of course anger. And yet nothing was there. She’d convinced Hemsley to stand and fight, and at that moment all of her rage had subsided with almost nothing to replace it. She should have been ripped by the loss of her lover, and yet all she could feel was a low throb of excitement that an opponent was on its way.

  Ayliss gritted her teeth hard and entered the room. It was almost identical to the other one where the bodies had been stretched out, but this time there was only one. A clean sheet covered the corpse. Pushing herself to walk to its head, then carefully raising the covers to reveal the pale, still face. She dropped the fabric onto his chest, unwilling to see what she had caused, but her palm rested there anyway.

  “He went right over the fence like it wasn’t even there,” Lola murmured. “We were already returning fire, and he ran straight for us. For a moment there I thought I was wrong, that he hadn’t been hit at all, the way he was moving.”

  Ayliss reached out blindly with her other hand, finding the hard muscle of the Banshee’s shoulder and grabbing onto it. Lola’s hand came up in response.

  “He told us to tell you he loved you, then he was gone.”

  Ayliss squeezed her eyes shut as if fighting back the tears, and lowered her head while wondering where her emotions had gone. Looking down at the corpse, she saw the slightest discoloration on the sheet, a tiny dot of brown that had to be blood. Still wondering where her feelings were, she pulled the sheet back up to cover Selkirk’s face.

  She gave Lola’s shoulder an extra squeeze, and let go of it. Looking at the solemn faces of the other Banshees, Ayliss spoke.

  “There’s a fight coming, and I’d like to be with you when it gets here.”

  “The tunnel system was far more complex than Command or ZQ realized.” Hemsley was at the wheel of a small, motorized cart that was taking Ayliss and Blocker down a long, wide tunnel. Phosphorescent minerals had been pressed into the walls, and the surprisingly good light was augmented by electric fixtures spaced along the wa
y. “Sam dug here first because it was such a major vein. Everybody seemed to think it was just Sam and his thing for camouflage, but that wasn’t it.”

  The cart came to a three-­way fork, and Hemsley drove them straight down the middle. “Every single branch eventually comes out at a concealed opening, and every one of those openings will put you in good terrain for escape. Ravines, hills, and lots of Go-­Three spikes. If you have to abandon a tunnel, run hard for the end and you’ll have a good chance.

  “But that’s not our plan.” The tunnel went uphill for a short distance, and Hemsley stopped the cart when it leveled off in a circular dead end. The first sergeant climbed out with pain and approached what appeared to be a gable formed out of rock. “Sam arranged his firing ports so that they complemented the terrain.”

  Reaching up in the narrow outcropping, he gripped something in the shadows and brought his arm down. Light spread within the firing slot, and Ayliss saw the cord that Hemsley had pulled to open a two-­sided camouflage covering. Hemsley limped back out of the way and gestured with an open palm. “Take a look.”

  Ayliss and Blocker stepped into the aisle hewn from the rock, and saw that they were halfway up the next ridge from the one where they’d started. Black spearheads jutted out of the dirt in several directions, but the most imposing sight was the small valley formed by the twisting high ground. It turned sharply in front of them, and the spined walls of rock rose high on both sides of the chasm.

  “That’s right. Any airship chasing somebody down this canyon has to slow up to make this or leave the canyon. No matter which one they choose, they’ll have to slow down to make the turn, or to keep whatever they’re chasing in sight. We’ve got five spots just like this one, all positioned to use the ground to give a perfect ass-­end shot at whatever’s in the air. And now, with that last shipment from McRaney, we have the missiles to pull it off.”

  “What if you do have to leave the tunnels?” asked Blocker.