Jesel nodded. “An unacceptable risk. Maintain altitude and maneuver to a position directly adjacent to the boat, but keep the overhang between us. Keep pace with it.”
Pehthrum swung the shuttle, now in VTOL mode, toward the right side of the river. “Complying. Our visibility of the boat is very limited from this angle, though.”
“We only need to know where it is,” Jesel tossed over his shoulder as he returned to the passenger compartment. “Suzruzh, ready the package.”
His distant cousin was out of his seat, four of the clones following him back to the access hatch just aft of the shuttle’s waist and just forward of its engineering section. Following the drill they had practiced a dozen times before, one pair of the identical soldiers opened the hatch and extended a small aluminum ramp, adapted from a freight-moving kit. The other two man-handled a container out of the largest of the ship’s lockers.
Suzruzh bent over the container, opened it, adjusted a single control on a detonator slaved to the two ship-to-ship missile warheads bolted to the plastic bottom. “Primed,” he shouted as he closed the lid and locked it. At his nod, the two clones who had removed the container from the locker now positioned it at the top of the aluminum ramp.
Suzruzh stood sideways in the wind-buffeted open hatchway, his hand gestures telling Jesel how to shift the position of the shuttle. Jesel relayed the appropriate piloting commands to Pehthrum. “Three meters more to the right. Wait—correct for the prop-wash coming back off the rocks. Now, another meter to the right…”
Suzruzh held his fist upright: Jesel motioned for Pehthrum to hold the shuttle in precisely that spot. As soon as the craft stabilized, Suzruzh nodded to the two clones holding the container on the slide: they released it.
Where he was, Jesel knew he would not be able to see or hear the splash as the container hit the water almost thirty meters beneath them, and a few meters to the left of the boat as it hung tight against the side of the gorge. Suzruzh, on the other hand, watched the container’s descent, and after what seemed like several long seconds, pressed the remote activation stud on his belt-com.
At such a short range, the signal got through the radio interdiction easily, and the detonator went off, triggering the two warheads not more than two meters beneath the surface of the swift current. A blast came up from the river. Jesel gestured for Pehthrum to spin the shuttle, which had passed the drop point. Pehthrum did so, just in time for them to see the lateen mast reach the peak of its upward course a top of the explosion’s white-frothed plume. It began tumbling back down toward the wreckage-strewn waters.
“Any sign of bodies?” Jesel shouted at Suzruzh over the whine of the VTOL fans.
“No sign of anything,” he answered. “Except that mast and a few shreds of hull.”
Jesel nodded, turned back to Pehthrum. “You have performed adequately, Intendant. Now return us to the coordinates where we detected the biosignatures upriver.” He moved back into the passenger compartment, affixing the straps of the ridiculously primitive Aboriginal helmet. “We have a job to finish.”
* * *
Karam Tsaami peeked overhead—the direction in which he would be falling, if he wasn’t being held upside down by the straps of the pilot’s chair. Through the sliver he’d opened in the cockpit’s sliding covers, he saw greens and teals and violets streak past in a psychedelic rush of formless color. He looked away: if he’d withdrawn all the blast-shields at this point, he wouldn’t even have trusted his own well-honed instincts of spatial orientation: flying upside down, for this long, at this speed, and this altitude, was for stunt fliers and test pilots, not boat jockeys.
The intercom crackled. “Karam?” Bannor’s voice.
“Yeah, Major, what is it? Kind of busy up here.”
“I figured as much. Now that all the bumping is over, give me a report on the ship’s systems.”
“Not much to report. Coming in belly-up should have protected the weld points in the hull, but with our hard aerobraking attitude on the way in, I suspect all of our surfaces still got baked somewhat. So I’m going to fly Puller inverted until after you jump.”
There was a long pause. “Say again, bridge. Sounded like you said you were maintaining inverted attitude until after you clear the drop zone.”
“You heard right, Major. If I were to roll over now, we could find ourselves with a hole in the hull catching the air in excess of fifteen hundred kph. That could tear us to pieces in seconds. So we’re going to get you where you’re going first, which also means we’ll be down to about four hundred kph, give or take. Once you’re out, I’ll roll her and we’ll see what happens.”
Behind Karam, Morgan Lymbery may have choked back a curse or a whimper or both.
“You’ve still got a location on the enemy craft?”
“Sure do. They are clearly not worried about being spotted. Going in straight lines, leaving a thermal trail as wide as the Strait of Gibraltar and running active sensors. And moving from objective to objective like they don’t have to do a lot of searching.”
Melissa Sleeman, although pale-faced and white knuckled, had evidently been following the conversation closely. “So the attackers have a fix on the ground team already? How could they?”
Karam sighed. “Either there is a still a traitor among them or the bad buys have miracle sensors. And I don’t believe in miracles. I particularly don’t believe in miracles coming from a lander that is throwing off the thrust signatures of a TOCIO-made shuttle.”
Bannor’s voice was quiet. “You’ve confirmed that?”
“Can’t confirm anything at this range, and I’m running passive sensors only. But if I was a betting man—well, I’d say we’ve got some interesting questions to ask whoever’s flying that lander. Like, where’d they get it?”
“I agree.” Rulaine sounded excessively composed. “Give me a two minute warning. I’ll be back at the aft hatchway preparing for the jump.”
“You’ve got it, Major.” And better you than me, you poor bastard.
* * *
Caine heard the roar of the returning shuttle diminish into a thready whine: it was crawling forward in hover mode. Damn it, they know right where we are. “Unsymaajh, Thnessfiirm. Keep your subtaxae watching the skies carefully. We need to see where the attackers come down.” He turned to the armed persons in his party. “They are finding us too quickly. No way the cavalry is going to get here in time, even if it’s coming. So this is up to us.”
Nasr Eid’s voice quavered. “And Ms. Betul and I are just to watch?”
“No: you are to maintain a watch. Very different.” As I’ve already explained, but you’re too jittery to process and remember. So: one more time—“We need you to watch our flanks. If you detect any movement there, you sneak back and report it so we can try to adjust our positions to deal with that new threat. Qwara, you’re going to be down near our revetment by the river. Nasr, you’re going to be postioned near a large clearing that is on our other flank, and you’ll have some special local help. And of course, if any additional weapons become available”—or if any of the survival rifles suddenly and sadly find themselves without their original wielders—“we’ll want you ready to join us on the line.”
Qwara nodded calmly. “I—we understand, Captain.”
Unsymaajh ducked back under the canopy of the cone tree without noticeably breaking his stride; his flanged hips seemed to allow him to dip, swerve, and rise up again in one fluid motion, even at speed. “My subtaxae have seen flying machines leaving the belly of the attacker’s shuttle, which approaches slowly.”
Caine nodded. “Are these flying machines flat and mostly square, with rotors at all four corners?”
“They are as you say.”
“Those are recon ROVs. Again, probably of our own manufacture. The enemy is trying to find exactly where we are before they land and attack.” He turned toward the edge of the cone tree’s canopy, called “Thnessfiirm!”
Salunke frowned. “So: they will find
and reach us quickly by using their aerial sensors. What should we do?”
Caine rose into a crouch. “We need to slow them down, make them land further away. Which means we need to put out their airborne eyes.
“But how?”
The answer to Salunke’s question materialized in the form of Thnessfiirm, who swooped under the canopy with almost the same swift facility as Unsymaajh had. “You summoned me?”
“I did. I need the autonomous munitions platform. Let’s call it the AMP.”
“Very well. It is close by.”
“Excellent. How many of those SAMs—er, surface-to-air missiles—does it have?”
“Four.”
Well, we’d better make this first volley count. “Okay. That’s how many targets we’ve got. But I want you to move the AMP into the zone I designated as salvo point three. Once it’s there, drop the launcher cells for all four missiles, then scoot it over to salvo point two and activate its reactive camouflage systems.”
“It shall be as you say, Caine Riordan.” She left in a smooth rush of gangly limbs.
Salunke’s mouth had curved into a small, almost hopeful smile. “So: ‘putting out their eyes.’ Now I see.”
“And hopefully, now they won’t. At least not very long.”
Nasr was the one frowning now. “If we have these missiles, should we not use them against the shuttle itself?”
Riordan shrugged. “That’s good thinking, but I doubt they’d do much. The missiles have small war-heads, and with only four hundred meters range, I doubt the shuttle will become a target for them. The attackers will stand off, wait for their ROVs to bracket us, and then force us to either take pot-shots at those quadrotors or hunker down where we can’t be seen and can’t defend ourselves. However, if we take down their sensor platforms, they can’t see how we’re positioned, or any munitions we might have. And when they see rockets take out their ROVs, they’re going to realize that we’re not as poorly armed as they suspected.”
Keith looked up. “The problem is that they suspected anything about us at all.”
Riordan did not nod, did not want to dive back into their most gnawing problem: that they certainly did have a traitor in their midst. Who had waited until now to strike. Textbook sabotage: never act until there’s no time left to uncover your identity. “Unsymaajh, any more word from your treetop convectorae?”
“Yes, Caine Riordan. The small hovering objects are approaching in a diamond formation which shrinks as it approaches us.”
“They’re putting a detection net around our clustered thermal signatures,” Dora summarized. “Tightening it as they see the limits of our dispersal.”
Riordan nodded. “Range, Unsymaajh?”
“The lead sensor is now within five hundred meters of our closest cluster. The tail of the diamond is approximately two hundred and fifty meters further away.”
Caine did the math. “Send a runner to get Thnessfiirm: I’m going to need her by my side from now on. Tell the convectorae I need to know when the rearmost ROV is within three hundred meters of our closest position. And as soon as our missiles launch, all positions within one hundred meters of the lead ROV are to be evacuated. Everyone goes to their first designated fall-back. Except the flank-watch near the river; they have to hold in place.”
“It is fortunate they are not close to the ROVs, then.”
“Very fortunate,” Caine agreed. But also a bit predictable; the team by the river is outside the primary footprint of our dispersal.
Caine checked his watch, popped two more pills, checked his breathing, found it tolerable. Although that’s going to change as soon as I have to start moving. Which will be any second now.
Thnessfiirm reappeared. “How may I assist you, Caine Riordan?”
“You must be my, well, we humans would call it a ‘technical expert.’ You did an excellent job familiarizing me with the controls for the AMP right after it arrived, but I might forget some of your instructions. I need you with me so that I won’t make any mistakes.”
Thnessfiirm response was interwoven with a rich, gratified purr. “I am happy to serve as your technical expert, Caine Riordan. How may I assist at this moment?”
“For now, you hold on to the controls. And I’ll take the laser-designator.”
“Very well.” Thnessfiirm handed Caine what looked more like a titanium wand than a laser-designator. “Do you require anything else?”
“Yes. I want you to choose two of your fastest, smartest assistants. We need them to be ready to move more swiftly and silently, carrying messages when and where we instruct.”
“I understand. I also predicted this. Three such assistants await us just beyond the fringe of the canopy.”
Well, son of a—“That is very well predicted, Thnessfiirm. You are an excellent assistant.”
Unsymaajh turned from a hasty consultation with the convectorae on the other side of the cone tree’s canopy. “The furthest ROV is at three hundred seventy-five meters. The leading ROV is only one hundred ninety meters away.”
“Thnessfiirm, how are the missiles targeted?”
“We have multiple options: thermal, object designation, object characteristics—”
“That: characteristics. Now, can you combine targeting options? Such as, both speed and altitude characteristics?”
“I am not sure what you are requesting.”
“Can you instruct the targeting system to select all objects that are traveling above the treetops, at a rate exceeding ten kilometers per hour, and within the missiles’ primary intercept envelope?”
“Yes, but—ah: these characteristics eliminate all other possible targets except the ROVs. I see now, and—”
“Thnessfiirm.”
“Yes?”
“Just do it. Quickly.”
As Thnessfiirm turned to comply, Unsymaajh announced, “The trailing ROV is now at a range of three hundred and thirty meters, lead ROV at—”
“Thnessfiirm?”
“Ready.”
“Fire. Unsymaajh, evacuate the closest positions. Dora, Keith, heads up: they’re going to show us their play book in the next minute or so.”
From a clearing slightly beyond the area the ROV’s were searching, the four Slaasriithi SAMs leaped skyward and then snapped over into head-on intercept modes. It took a moment for the ROV’s to detect the incredibly swift missiles, to begin to react—
Four explosions rippled across the treetops; four sharp flashes became dirty grey blossoms of airborne smoke and shimmering showers of debris.
“Four targets confirmed destroyed,” Thnessfiirm reported proudly—and needlessly.
Riordan nodded, pointed at Unsymaajh. “In the next few minutes, our enemies will decide where they are going to land troops to move against us. Their choice of landing site will reveal much about the tactics they plan to employ. Your watchers must keep us informed—constantly—of where their shuttle flies, where it lands, how many persons come out, where they go. Our survival depends upon this.”
Unsymaajh’s sensor cluster bobbed sharply. “We shall not fail.” He was beyond the cone tree’s canopy issuing instructions before Riordan had turned on his collarcom.
“What are you doing?” Nasr Eid gasped in alarm.
“Not sending. Just listening.”
“Still—”
But in the time it took for Nasr to renew his protests against activating even a tiny a power source in such close proximity to the enemy, Riordan heard what he had expected: one of the group’s other collarcoms was on and dial-sweeping. Every five seconds, it was sending out a signal that essentially tumbled through the bandwidth, like a beacon to any other receiver that might be looking to connect to it. Except, in this situation, it was working as a homing device for whoever was listening for it aboard the enemy shuttle. Given the interference, the collarcoms’ ranges were reduced to less than four hundred meters, but that would be all their adversaries needed.
“What have you found?” Xue asked quietly
. There was a pensive undertone in his voice.
Is he the traitor, or does he simply suspect what I’ve discovered? Caine shook his head, tasked his collarcom to identify which of its networked siblings was sending the signal. Mizuki’s. Which meant that, when their half-blind and wounded fellow-survivor had left for the boat, someone had nicked her collarcom, set it to dial-sweep and had ditched it somewhere nearby.
Caine carefully considered the ramifications of his next action, then reactivated his collarcom’s transmission capability.
Eid’s eyes grew wide. “No! Don’t—!”
Riordan, along with Gaspard, had one of the two collarcoms that were network administrators for all the others. He chose one of the executive overrides, entered his code, gave the command, turned off his collarcom.
As he pocketed it, Veriden frowned deeply. “What did you just do?”
“I shut down our comm net. Completely.”
Xue nodded. “So, someone has been helping them locate us by sending a signal.”
Riordan nodded. “And there was no way to be safe eliminating just one collarcom. If one gets shut down, our turncoat might have access to another, or might use his or her own.” Caine stood. “Now, the bastards have to hunt us down fair and square.”
Unsymaajh swept back under the canopy. “The shuttle has kept its distance, is landing in a small clearing three hundred and fifty meters south of our fall back position.”
“Inland, or close to the river bank?”
“Within sixty meters of the river.”
Keith nodded. “So they are in a hurry.”
Qwara frowned. “Why do you say so?”
Veriden answered. “The shore is flat and hard-packed right up to where the captain put our flank against it. It’s marshy there, but up to that point, they can approach us at a good trot.”
Xue rose into a crouch, cradled his rifle. “So do we follow Plan Gamma and flank them for an ambush?”
Caine shook his head. “Tempting, but no. I don’t think we’re up against amateurs. They may move a force down the shore, but they’ll keep another force paralleling them in the bush. Our own ambushers would get hit in the flank, that way.”
Raising Caine - eARC Page 46
