Knights Of The Black Earth

by Margaret Weis

  "Rowan!" Xris was forced to shout into the comm over the rumbling of the engine. "Has the king been evacuated yet?"

  "No, Xris!" she returned. "They're keeping him inside the limojet."

  It made sense. Under any other circumstances, the shielded, specially designed limo would be the safest possible place. Unfortunately, ironically, it was likely to become the safest possible steel-lined coffin.

  "Any luck jamming the negative wave device?"

  "We confused them for a few seconds, but they were able to outmaneuver us. The knights know we're on to them now. You better hurry, Xris."

  Sliding down out of the turret, the cyborg almost landed in Raoul's lap. The Loti had a handkerchief pressed over his nose and mouth with one hand, the other held fast to the hem of his golden cape, attempting to keep it out of the grease on the floor.

  Xris stood practically on top of the Adonian, shouted to be heard.

  "Try to reach the Royal Guard! Tell them that they have to get the king out of the limojet! The knights are using the limo as their target. The king would be safer in the crowd than he is in that damn car! You got that?"

  Raoul nodded, cautiously removed the handkerchief, and shrieked, "Do you have any ideas on how I'm supposed to get close enough to tell anyone anything?"

  Xris shook his head, reached for the controls that opened the hatch. "No, but you'll figure something outl You always do."

  "I do, don't I?" Raoul remarked calmly.

  Clasping hold of the Little One's hand, the Adonian stepped over Harry, fell over Quong, and headed for the open hatch. A trickle of muddy water ran through the culvert. Raoul gazed at it, looked back at Xxis reproachfully.

  Xris shrugged. "It's only water. You won't melt."

  Sighing, Raoul took off his shoes, gathered his cape around him, and jumped. The Little One flung himself out afterward. They were almost immediately lost in the smoke from the PVC's exhaust.

  At least they'll be out of view of the hovercraft circling overhead, Xris reflected. He ducked back inside the PVC.

  "Let's go!" Xris shouted to Jamil, and the lumbering vehicle lurched forward, began rolling up the side of the culvert. "Full throttle! Don't stop for anything now!"

  Coughing, choking, hanging on to his shoes with one hand, the Little One with the other, and trying to keep his golden cape from dragging in the mud, Raoul trudged up the side of the culvert. His spirits were as low as it was possible for the spirits of an Adonian Loti to get, which put them somewhere in the vicinity of the golden sash that encircled his slim waist.

  Reaching a concrete wall--put there to keep children and other members of the populace from tumbling into the drainage ditch--Raoul paused to watch the Devastator slam right through that same wall, go crunching over the wreckage.

  Raoul sighed. "They have all the fun."

  He gazed at the concrete wall. He would have to climb over it--no jolly smashing through it--and he sighed again.

  He only hoped he didn't rip a seam.

  Raoul placed his shoes--low-heeled, since he was going into action---carefully on the wall. Reaching down to his friend, he lifted the Little One and swung him up onto the top of the wall, which was about level with Raoul's shoulders.

  Noting the dirt on the top, Raoul sighed a third time. Really! Xris expected the impossible!

  "I trust I will be fully compensated," he remarked, then put his hands on the wall and, closing his eyes to the grime, pulled himself up.

  He climbed over, lowered himself to the ground, and was almost immediately elbowed, kneed, and rudely mauled by the crowd. Some people were trying to escape, others were clambering to get a better view, while still others were fighting simply to keep from getting crushed or trampled.

  Raoul, who had been about to lift the Little One down, now thought better of it. He climbed hastily back up onto the wall, gazed at the mob in disgust.

  "I've never seen anything quite like this," he remarked to the Little One. "With the possible exception of the night our late former employer, Snaga Ohme, was murdered and Lord Sagan spread the false report that the space-rotation bomb was about to detonate. But even that didn't compare to this because we had only a few hundred panic-stricken people stampeding about the mansion, while here ..."

  He couldn't go on. Words were simply not adequate.

  At that moment, the pressure of the mob eased. The hole punched into the side of the concrete wall by the PVC had opened up an alternative route--at least so most people appeared to believe, for they were streaming through the opening and running down into the culvert with no very clear idea of where they were going or why.

  "Bizarre," said Raoul. "And just think of it. Most of these people are probably sober."

  The Little One nodded gloomily, tugged on his friend's sleeve, and pointed.

  The Royal Limojet could not be seen, surrounded as it was by the Royal Guard. But Raoul knew what his friend meant.

  "Ah, yes. The king."

  Raoul contemplated the sea of humanity roiling between them and His Majesty and, for the first time in his life, the Adonian was subject to a feeling of helplessness.

  "There is simply no way, my friend," he said to the Little One. "We are doomed to failure."

  This feeling made him uncomfortable. Raoul hated feeling uncomfortable. He wondered if he'd brought along anything to alleviate the stress. Opening his handbag, he began searching for relief. Several sheaves of stiff, folded paper, tucked into the side of the purse, hmnpered his rummaging. He took the papers out, glanced at them--vaguely curious to see what they were--and started to toss them away.

  And then he had an idea.

  He clutched at the papers, held them fast, as if they were the most precious objects to come into his possession in a month: new diamond earrings, perhaps, or a jar of thigh cream.

  "This is it!" Raoul breathed softly.

  The Little One, reading his thoughts, clapped his hands and began to jump up and down--a perilous move on top of file wall. Raoul was quick to calm his friend's joy.

  "We have to find a policeman," Raoul said, and was immediately cheered and delighted by the oddity. Generally policemen were out trying to find Raoul, not the other way around.

  The Little One, standing on the wall, tapped his friend on the head, drew Raoul's attention to several small hovering vehicles known as chariots because they purportedly resembled the chariots of aacient times--minus the horses and the wheels. Designed for police use, the chariot was nothing more than a round section of metal floor plating surrounded by a steel railing and equipped with anti-gray plates and blast jets. When actNated, the chariot rose into the air, carrying the police iN rapid--albeit breezy--transit above the congested sidewalks of the city.

  Police chariots were zipping around overhead, endeavoring to funnel the crowd out and away from the immediate vicinity of the hotel.

  Raoul put his golden shoes on, stood on top of the concrete wall, and beganI waving his hands, crying shrilly.

  "HelpY Help me! Help! Police! Help!"

  The Adonian was a dazzling spectacle in his glittering doublet and golden hose and breeches. His golden cape caught the wind, bill0wed around him. Jewels and sequins glittered in bright sunlight. He might have been another sun, fallen to the ground.

  Just when it seemed to the harried police that they were finally getting the situation under control and the mob was starting to disperse, they noticed a crowd beginning to form around a flamboyantly dressed Adonian screaming for help on a concrete wall.

  The police moved in quickly.

  "Get down from there? one policeman demanded, bringing his chariot level with Raoul. "Move along or you'll find yourself in jail!" Raoul shoved the sheaf of papers at the startled cop. "I'm the Ambassador from AdoniaY" Raoul gasped breathlessly. "My aide and I were supposed to be among the dignitaries attending the king, but we became separated from the group when the revolt started."

  "There's no revolt," the policeman said swiftly. Too swiftly.

  R
aoul nodded gravely. "My lips are sealed. But you must understand that I fear for my life and that of my aide. I demand that you take us to a place of safety. The nearest would be the temple, I presume." Raoul's painted eyelids fluttered. "I request the protection of the Royal Guard."

  The policeman examined the credentials, which appeared authentic, down to the silver wax seal and the red ribbons. The crowd, drawn by the sight of the police, rather than dispersing, grew larger. At that moment, a burst from the PVC's lascannon split the air like a thunderclap. The crowd gasped, screamed, and surged toward the wall.

  Raoul blanched in terror, threw his arms around the policeman, nearly strangling the man.

  "Officer, pleaseY Our lives are in your hands. If anything happens to us, you will be held personally responsible! This could well cause a breach between our two governments!"

  "What the hell is going on?" A policewoman in another chariot sailed over.

  "He's the Adonian ambassador, Sergeant. Wants to be taken to the Royal Guard. His credentials check out." The policeman endeavored unsuccessfully to pry Raoul loose.

  "Then let them protect him, by all means. We don't need any more trouble. The Goddess knows we have enough to deal with. We've been ordered to evacuate and seal off the area surrounding the hotel." "Yes, ma'am."

  The policeman opened a gate. Raoul hopped inside, dragging the Little One with him. The chariot took off, soaring over the heads of the crowd, heading up to the very steps of the temple itself.

  Raoul could see the Royal Limojet clearly now. Looking back, he could also see the PVC Devastator, blasting its way toward the hotel.

  Raoul held his golden purse over his head, endeavoring to keep his hair from getting mussed in the wind.

  "Thank heaven," he remarked to the Little One, "I was dressed for the occasion."

  CHAPTER 39

  . . . then you are like a rabbit on the loose, so the enemy cannot keep you out.

  Sun Tzu, The Art of War

  Laser fire burst around the PVC, but even the highpowered beam dries carried by the local cops couldn't penetrate the massive tank's nullgray steel armor. Xris kept up a steady stream of lascannon bursts that effectively cleared their path. Most of the police, seeing that their weapons had no effect, turned and ran, with the exception of one stalwart cop---either more courageous than his fellows or crazier--who leaped bodily onto the P�C as it roared across the hotel parking lot.

  Once he was there, the cop clung to the glacis plate of the speeding, rocking tank, practically eyeball to eyeball with Xris in the turret. The cop brought up his handheld lasgun, aimed it directly at Xris. The blast, which would reflect off the shields, was liable to do more damage to the cop than it would to the cyborg.

  Xris swiveled the lascannon around sharply, brushed off the cop as if he'd been a candidate for Olicien Pest Control services. Looking through the rearview cam, the last Xris saw of the cop, he was lying dazed on the pavement, muzzily shaking his head but otherwise unhurt.

  The PVC rolled without further obstructions--at least that it couldn't climb over--up to the hotel. Fortunately, someone'd had sense enough to evacuate the area. Terrified guests were being herded out of the main entrance. A line of cops kept them moving--an easy task when the PVC roared into plain view.

  "Head for that door on the building's north side!" Xris yelled to Jamil.

  He piloted the PVC up to a side door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. The Devastator lumbered to a stop.

  Xris bailed out of the turret, met Jamil coming from the driver's side, joined Tycho and Harry crouched in the tank's cramped interior.

  "Tycho, you and Harry rush the door. Janill guard their flank. I'll cover you all from here. Right. Got it? Go."

  Xris hit the controls that opened the hatch; then he climbed back up into the turret.

  Harry jumped out, his beam rifle swinging in an arc.

  A man appeared, coming around the back corner of the building. Harry fired a burst in the air. The man leaped about a foot, turned, and fled.

  Tycho and Jamil jumped out immediately behind Harry. Tycho ran for the door, while Harry covered him. Flattening himself against the side of the building to the door's right, Tycho motioned for Harry to join him.

  Jamil kept Harry covered. Xris watched the rear.

  Harry dashed over, took up a position fiat against the wall to the left of the door. Jamil followed.

  A 'copter flew in. Xris fired a blast from the lascannon, warning it off. A lascannon could bring down a 'copter. It veered away, but didn't go far.

  Harry tried the hotel door. Locked.

  Jamil attached a magnetic explosive charge. Everyone turned away, shielding themselves from the blast. The heavy steel door blew inward, hung crazily on its hinges.

  Jamil motioned. Xris abandoned the turret. Thrusting a twist in his mouth, he ran a last-minute check on his weapons hand and his system status LEDs. The lights glimmered comfortingly green.

  Xris dove out the hatch, broke into a run, and raced across the short distance that separated the PVC from the side of the building.

  A kick from his steel leg knocked the door off its hinges. Xris burst inside, hit the floor, and rolled. His enhanced vision scanned the dark interior of the hallway for heat sources. None. He jumped to his feet.

  He stood in a bleak and sterile corridor. A fire door at the end was marked FIRST mOOR. Concrete stairs, with an iron railing, led upward. Xris adjusted his augmented hearing, listened closely. No sounds from above.

  He waved. Harry and Jamil ran past him to the base of the stairs.

  "Second-foot landing," Harry reported. "More stairs from there, going up at a thirty-degree angle."

  Typical fire escape. Xris gave Harry the signal to continue. The big man started climbing. A blast from a beam rifie blew out a section of wall to his left, caused him to beat a hasty retreat.

  "That ain't the nightly news," Harry said, brushing chips of concrete out of his hair.

  Xris sucked on the twist. He hadn't doubted it. Not really. Not after seeing Dr. Brisbane. But it was nice to be certain. He waved Harry on.

  The big man took a stun grenade from his field webbing pouch, tapped the arming code, and tossed the grenade up the stairs to the first-floor landing. He ducked; everyone ducked, eyes squinched tightly shut, hands over their ears.

  A cracking sound split the air in the corridor. Before it had died away, Harry raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Jamil advanced, stood guard at the bottom. Xris grabbed Tycho, drew him back to the doorway. "Move around to the front of the building. Take a few potshots at the third-floor balcony. I want the knights to have to worry about a frontal assault as well as one from the rear. You probably can't get a clear shot at the negative wave device because of the shielding around it, but you can take out anyone standing nearby. Hit them with a few iridium jacket rounds. That should make 'em back off, at least till we get there. Understand?" He looked at the alien worriedly. Sometimes Tycho's translator did odd things. Apparently this time the message got through. "Clearest thing since sliced bread!" Tycho responded. Xris took half a second to assimilate that one, but was reassured by the sight of the alien loping off to take up his position.

  Xris turned just in time to hear Harry yell from the second-floor landing, "Number two!"

  He was tossing another stun grenade, probably onto the third floor. Jamil, at the foot of the stairs, gave an alarmed shout. Xris started forward; the blast nearly knocked him off his feet.

  Something had gone wrong. The grenade had exploded too close.

  Laser fire blasted the staircase. Sparks cascaded over the railing. Harry came stumbling down, wobbling drunkenly, his face contorted in pain. Staggering, he missed the last step. Xris caught the big man as he fell, propped him up.

  "Jamil! Cover us!"

  Jamil was already dashing up the stairs, firing as he went.

  "What happened?" Xris yelled at Harry. "Are you hurt?"

  "What?"

  Blood trickl
ed out from both Harry's ears. The big man sucked in a pain-filled breath, leaned back against the wall.

  "Stay here!" Xris yelled as loudly as he could. He took the twist out of his mouth, motioned with it to emphasize his words.

  "No, thanks, Xris," Harry mumbled, looking dazedly at the twist. "I don't smoke." "I said stay--" Xris shook his head. "Never mind." Damn difficult to hear, when your eardrums have been shattered. He patted the big man on the chest, then raced up the stairs.

  Crouched in a comer of the landing, Jamil was trading shots with an unseen enemy.

  Xris aimed his weapons hand, fired a heat-seeking micromissile. It arced upward in a slow spiral. He and Jamil ducked. The explosion rocked the stairwell, filled it with acrid smoke. Xris thought he heard a scream. For the moment, the laser fire from that direction ceased.

  "What happened to Harry?" Xris asked.

  "He threw a stun grenade up and one of those bastards caught it, threw it right back down! In all my days in the Army," Jamil added, waiting for the beam rifle to cycle through before firing, "I've only known a few people with guts and discipline enough to try that trick, and most of them ended up minus a hand. These are the same welltrained bastards we faced on the Canis Major."

  He fired his beam rifle. A burst of return laser fire took out a section of the step on which he was standing. He moved.

  "Well trained, well armed. They have the high ground and they know we're coming." Xris peered upward, through the smoke. "Tycho's keeping them busy out frontú Harry's down for the count. I've only got two more of those slow missiles.

  Can't use the fast ones in tight comers; they're liable to blow us up before they do the enemyú" Xris chomped down savagely on the twist. "Any suggestions?"

  "Yeah," said Jamil. "Give me a high-explosive frag grenade. I'll clean those knights out of the stairway."

  Xris shook his head. He knew what Jamil had in mind. "I'll do it."

  "Like hell. Half of you weighs in at a quarter ton. You can't move that fast. Besides, I'm a trained professional." Jamil grinned. "Hand it over."

  Xris took the grenade from his field webbing, gave it to Jam fl.