The Valkyries of Andromeda

by Lindsay Peet

CHAPTER ELEVEN

  As we came down the mountain I remembered the last time I’d come this way, weary wet trying not to act scared, trudging towards we knew not what. My, how things had changed, how much had happened, and after all our adventures and discoveries we were still headed towards we knew not what. Speeders were definitely better, even when it started raining and it seemed we were racing into the drops as we headed down the pass. There wasn’t much to be done to keep us dry, as this speeder had no roof, but I turned the heat up, leaving us damp but clammy rather than chilled. When I looked back to ask Sirah if she was comfortable back there I saw the rain had rendered her blouse see-through, and I almost crashed, but I did manage to blurt the question, and she said she was okay. I’ll say she was.

  As we left the woody foothills I noticed a group approaching us from the west, Solip City way. Through the rain I couldn’t see much, at first, but it was clearly a sizable group, and approaching quickly. I slowed the speeder to a halt, waiting for the riders to catch up.

  “Mayor, any idea who that might be?”

  “From the direction I’d guess they’re from Solip City. And from the size of the party, I’m betting they’re not a welcoming committee. Say, this speeder thing’s wonderful!” he smiled again.

  “Yeah, marvelous. Well, we’ll wait here a bit while the others catch up. In the meantime, tell me, why are you still acting like we’re from the Empire? You know better.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t sent here. Anyway, there’s nothing to be gained by embarrassing you, and if ninety-nine percent of Caliuga thinks you’re from the Empire, we can use that. We have used that. Solip City means to take over the whole planet, by methods fair or foul, and the farmers and craftsmen of Caliuga City, side-by-side with the merchants and manufacturers of Chugtallis are almost all that opposes them. You two were, are our ace in the hole.”

  “How serious is this struggle, Your Honor?” The P. U. band was getting nearer, and with each minute they looked more unfriendly. Our riders were trotting up now, pulling up around the speeder and peering across the meadow. I looked more closely and saw our guys carried rifles and handguns. I don’t know if they had expected trouble, but I was glad they’d come prepared, just in case.

  Looking across the meadow before us it was clear now that the Solip City group was a handful of speeders leading two dozen or so riders, all bristling with weapons. Obviously, Zeno had had spare parts on his speeder in Chugtallis, had gotten Jedub to tell where our ship was, and now planned to take control of things, one way or another. He’d been all over the map and very busy while we’d been separated – I had to respect his ambition and energy. Or, maybe he’d just been motivated by hatred for me.

  Their horses were going to be tired by the time they arrived, I thought, and the wet meadow wouldn’t be much to the liking of their horses or ours. It wouldn’t trouble their speeders, so I had to work out a plan that would negate their open-field advantage, and also any blasters they might have along. I surveyed the woods behind us to confirm what I thought I’d seen, and then quickly explained my plans to our little militia, explaining about blasters and handing out a few I’d gathered at the ship, then directing our force to pull far back and form up into a sort of crescent, aggressively bellied toward the Solip City group. Lordano refused to bear weapons, so I asked him to pilot my speeder, so Wanliet and I could shoot. Sirah and her father re-mounted horses, and Aspe we tied to a tree, her tough luck if we lost and nobody found her.

  Sure enough, about halfway through the meadow their horses slowed and mud splashed the trailers, so they fanned out more. Lordano had the speeder hovering between the two forces. I couldn’t see any way to avoid bloodshed, but I really wanted to, especially since there was a decent chance some of the blood would be mine, maybe even excessive amounts.

  My guts were boiling but, rather than wailing in panicked fear, I offered up a pacifistic plea. “Maybe this is the time to roll over, give ‘em what they want” I ventured to my charioteer. “They’re people, after all, just like we are. I’m sure we can smooth out our differences.”

  “Is you they are wanting, Jaf. You and Wanliet. Townpeople fighting not only for you and Inspector General, though, are –for Caliuga also. P. U. stinks, crushes people, dreams, progress. Stop them here, now, better than later.”

  “The time for speeches and outreaches is past, Jaf. We’re up against it now, it’s blowing its stacks,” agreed Wanliet.

  Lordano looked at me sternly and said, “Jaf, a calming mantra have I for you.”

  Wanliet perked up; since he’d disappeared that night in Chugtallis he’d been eager to hear anything Lordano said. “What’s that? I’d like to hear it, too,” he said. “But is now the time?”

  “Time we have for this. So – when inhaling you are, think, ‘So,’ and when exhaling ‘What.’” We stared at him, waiting for more. “’So what’?” I asked.

  Lordano’s head bobbed up and down in excitement and laughter. “So what? So you win? So what? So you lose? So what? So you die…?”

  “So what!” chimed in Wanliet.

  I wasn’t caring for this at all. “That’s it? So what?”

  “More there is! After ‘what’, think ‘No big deal’.”

  “’So what, no big deal.’ I might just kill you now, Lordano! ‘So what, no big deal’! Those fellas are trying to kill us, and that’s what you give me? To keep calm?”

  Again with the head bobbing, except now Wanliet was joining in.

  “Maybe I’ll get killed, and won’t have to see you two any more,” I muttered.

  “So what, no big deal,” smiled Wanliet. I pointed the blaster at his gut and dared him to repeat those words. He declined.

  We returned our focus on the approaching force.

  The speeders were racing onward, two in the middle drawing our eyes and a pair on each flank trying to slip behind us and catch us in a pincers. I couldn’t miss seeing Zeno in the middle speeder, bellowing out a war-cry, levelling a blaster at me and letting loose from afar as Lordano darted a little dogleg evasion. Shooting from a moving speeder is a skill that requires a lot of practice, and Zeno had had none. Neither, I bet, had his mates.

  Lordano piloted us back and forth before our little band drawing the wrath of the PU warriors while behind us our horses were rearing and stamping as their riders tried to convince their foes that they were quaking in their stirrups and about to bolt. At my order Lordano swerved us back into the woods, as if we were fleeing, and our Caliugans pulled back more with us. I’d told them to try to look like they were panicking, and I’d have to say with the respect of a true coward that I wouldn’t have done better myself. By now the flanking speeders were behind us, and dashing in among the trees to close their pincers. I heard a blaster behind our left flank, the sound of a tree falling, and then a tremendous crash. That was the easiest way I’d figured to cancel out the speeders – the horsemen didn’t have to hit the speeders, just lure them into mad pursuit and then, trees . After that first blast there was so much noise and confusion I couldn’t hear exactly what was going on, but as per my plan we scooted on back to deal with any speeders that the forest and pilot inexperience didn’t.

  Zeno’s and another speeder trailed us in among the trees. Clearly they didn’t anticipate that I’d gotten my own blaster from the ship, because I quickly disabled the speeder that wasn’t Zeno’s and it crashed into a tree, the pilot and shooter both crumpling against the trunk in a sickening way. Then Lordano juked again and I lost Zeno while Wanliet snagged my free arm to keep me from toppling off and into a tree myself.

  As our formation’s center fell back their horses had moved into the woods now too. Horses won’t be fooled like speeders, so we couldn’t trick them into riding into trees, but we did have other tricks. The center retreated and retreated, and the PU riders gleefully spurred their mounts forward through the woods, hollering and shouting as they hurtled deeper under the low limbs and over the twisted root
s.

  At my signal our center turned about, and the flanks closed quickly, our nimbler ponies racing behind the larger SC mounts before their riders knew what was happening. While Wanliet and I dealt with the speeders, ambushing them or making trees fall on them or baiting them into chasing us into almost-impassable thickets, the town riders raced among the invaders, using pistols and long knives to horrible advantage where the bigger horses couldn’t maneuver. The shrieks and cries of dying men and animals burned at my heart, and knowing they came mostly from those who wanted to kill me was little comfort. I caught a glimpse of Sirah, my sweet hot little Sirah in the wet blouse, swinging her blade cleanly through the neck of one dismounted rider who had struggled to fight on. My tears mingled gratitude, respect, and horror.

  Soon it was over. Zeno had scooted back to Solip City, and I didn’t doubt I’d see him again. All their other speeders were wrecked, and their crews killed. I hadn’t seen Jedub crash, but I saw the wreckage later with his mangled body tangled in some brushy boulders. Only two of their riders survived, two of ours were killed, and four more injured. The cries and shrieks of half-a-dozen men can tear your heart out, and to this day when I remember them my eyes glisten and my chest aches.

  What a peculiar feeling. I lived, I was breathing and would breathe and eat and sleep and dream and screw again, many more times, while those who had wanted to destroy me were dead. With the death of their futures mine had blossomed. I don’t know how it’s possible for one heart to feel such joy and grief at the same time, but there it was, there I was, there they weren’t. Like a series of gruesome vignettes I recalled scenes only, wandering the woods looking for the dead and injured, loading them on horses, here my Sirah’s face spattered with another’s blood, there a beautiful mount we had to put out of its misery. Then we all headed back to Caliuga. I was so dazed I forgot about Aspe, but Sirah, my sweet Sirah, rode back and untied her. The heat of the day and her exertions had dried the rain from Sirah’s blouse, residual dampness from her exertions staining the lower back and upper chest. She’d wiped the blood from her face, and her hair hung in lank ropes about her cheeks. Aspe sat before Sirah on the saddle, Sirah’s arms steadying her, and my heart swelled with love, lust, jealousy, respect, and shame. She was far too good for me.

  So what, no big deal, eh?