The comms console on the bridge of Ayman’s Javelin lit up, and the comms officer transferred the data to the overhead display. Graphics showed the Barrens as a circle of islands, coloured a matt brown, surrounding a shallow sea that was shown in a neutral grey.
Inside the shallow sea, surrounded by the jagged, upright islands of the Teeth, a huge round shape had been outlined in red. It had short, stubby arms roughly aligned with compass directions in blue. In the centre of the mining base a smaller circle, raised up from the sea bed and finishing just below water level, acted as a cap on the whole affair.
“The mass launcher,” said Ayman, shining a pointer onto the cap. His words, and the view of his bridge, was being relayed to the other ships as he spoke.
“We want to hit that early on, in case they try to use it as a weapon against the Javelins. The fusion ring is probably the dark ring around the outside of the cap. The size of the ring matches that reported by the Shellport villagers who saw the mass launcher at work.”
The details of the attack unfolded. The Javelins would chip away at the mining base, irritating the Invardii rather than doing any real damage, and trying to avoid any harm to the Barrens. It might not be an important part of Hud, but if they could avoid damaging the environment of the planet they would.
When the attack had drawn as many enemy ships to the area as possible the Valkrethi would close the trap. At least, that was how it was supposed to work, but the business of warfare was never simple.
Ayman initiated the first wave of the attack, and the mining base came alive in response.
Dozens of missiles, simple impact explosives that might rupture the skin of the mining base and let the sea in, got just over half way to their target.
The missiles left the Javelins and entered the atmosphere, stubby wings guiding them toward their targets on internal systems. Almost immediately the fusion reactor in the middle of the Barrens geared up, exactly as Menon and Metris had seen it do during their earlier surveillance.
Looping bars of light doubled and redoubled their speed under the water, until they formed a continuous ring round the raised cap. As the missiles from the Javelins approached, a huge plasma dome sprang up over the mining site, taller than the islands around it. Ripples danced through the orange fire of the dome as it burst up out of the water, and then steadied.
One by one the first missiles vaporised against it, and then dozens of points of lights quickly followed, until all the missiles had been destroyed.
“Mass launcher powering up,” said Ayman Cases’s comms officer, relaying information from the Sea Anemone.
“Hell’s teeth!” grunted Ayman, realising that what he had feared most was about to happen. He tapped in an override command on the comms band in front of him, and spoke to every ship in the fleet.
“Clear the area over the mining base, repeat, clear the area! Evasive action!,” and he sent out the coordinates for the ‘no go’ area that would keep the circle of sky above the Barrens clear of the task force.
As he finished speaking, the first of a string of dark pods erupted through the plasma shield and raced out through the atmosphere, and on into space. It passed between a Javelin and the Sea Anemone, but others followed. The ships scattered, but then one of the pods clipped a Javelin, tearing away part of one side. It spun under the impact, then stabilised. A very welcome message followed moments later.
“Decks four and five isolated, damage reports still coming in, but we seem to have power and steerage.”
The ship limped after the others, and finally cleared the area. As had been proved before, the Druanii shields were proof against any kind of missile or energy attack, but couldn’t deflect a large inertial mass.
When the last of the Javelins were clear, Ayman stopped for a moment and thought about the damaged ship. It did further the overall plan, though he wouldn’t have chosen it that way.
The Javelins had stirred up the mining base, and taken some damage in doing so. The weaker they looked to the Invardii, the more Reaper ships would be committed to what they hoped would be a massive retaliatory strike. Something to make up for the loss of their ships at the ice planet in the Alamos system.
All Ayman had to do now was keep making attempts to attack the base, until the Invardii reinforcements arrived. He didn’t realise his actions at the barrens had a number of land-bound spectators. The three dooplehuel from Shellport had entered the Blood river earlier in the day.
The tongue of rust-red water issuing from its mouth had been easy to spot. It was laden with tannins from the peat swamps inland. The dooplehuel had turned up into it, furling the sails and working their way along by paddling up the calmer water closer to the banks. Then it had been time to cut across to the Teeth.
The portage of the dooplehuel had been a grimy business. The short distance between the Blood and the clear water at the back of the Teeth was measured not in distance, but in the number of times the hulls got stuck in a tangle of grey saltbush, or the number of times one of the crew slipped in the greasy mud and went down onto their hands and knees in the swamp.
The short journey wasn’t helped by the sudden appearance of swamp flies. They were beautiful to look at – bright blues and striped reds having something to do with the toxic material of the swamp – but they pumped anaesthetic into their bites and sucked on the villager’s skin until blood ran down their legs. In the end they coated themselves liberally with the slimy mud of the swamp, and it did seem to help.
The arrival of the dooplehuel at the edge of the Barrens was greeted with relief. The crews splashed into the salt water and scrubbed themselves down. Hudnee would have liked Menon’s knowledge of medicine plants to help the others, but in the end one of the crew found a plant that reduced swelling, and they all chewed on the bark stripped off it until the worst of the itching and swelling had abated.
Hudnee looked across at the top of the nearest island. That was where they needed to be if they wanted to see the attack on the mining base. He rounded up the others and they paddled the dooplehuel quickly across the last stretch of water, beaching them at the back of the island.
The villagers didn’t bother to hide the water craft. The mining base would be too busy with the alliance attack to worry about the insignificant threat they posed. Then they climbed the slope above them.
Their position at the top was perfect, hidden from the direction of the mining base by a narrow ridge, and sheltered from the light wind. They took turns peering down into the wide, flat waters of the inner Barrens, and soon discovered there was nothing to see – not yet anyway. In the end Hudnee set two sentries, and ordered the rest of them to make themselves some lunch.
He was considering the possibilities of making a small, smokeless fire from the desiccated grasses of the Barrens, when there was a sharp crack from the sea behind him, and the sentries slid down into the hollow. They motioned frantically in the direction they had just left. Hudnee scrambled to the top of the slope, and stared in wonder at the huge orange dome that now covered the inland sea.
One of the sentries pointed upward, and they all watched in wonder as tiny objects fell toward the dome from far above. Despite their keen vision, none of them could understand what they were. The first one produced a puff of brilliant white against the orange dome, and then others did the same.
CHAPTER 21
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Hudnee wondered what that meant. The display looked pretty to him. The sacred colour white kept appearing on the immense orange surface of the dome, and then dissipating. Though he couldn’t understand how the whole area of the dome could be exactly the same orange colour.
The puffs of white died away, and then the top of the dome dimmed as long, dark shapes sped into the air – a group of three, a pause, and then another group of three. Hudnee wondered how anything could move so fast. He looked up once again. The ships of the Human strangers were up there, somewhere. He couldn’t see a trace of them.
He shivered. The
villagers were dealing with things frighteningly far beyond their understanding.
The young people though, the trainees they had sent to help in the war against the Invardii, they would be getting used to things like this. They were already used to travelling between planets.
It made Hudnee proud. Proud and worried at the same time. Would the old ways of Hud disappear under an avalanche of new things? Would the people of Hud become just mindless copies of the pale ones?
Probably not, he decided. Habna would be dead against anything like that, and Habna was a force to be reckoned with.
Somewhat reassured, Hudnee turned back to the dome, just in time to see it hit by something going too fast for him to see. Hundreds of red stains spread over the dome, as if by of magic. At the same time waterspouts erupted from the sea all around the dome. The noise was deafening, like nothing he had ever heard before.
There was a sound like the tearing of nets as the red stains disappeared off the dome. The deep thump of the waterspouts was followed by a sound like the rattling of shells as the water fell back onto the surface of the sea.
Whatever that was, it must have come from the pale ones’ ships, somewhere above the layer of air that Menona said cloaked the planet. That was where the Hud trainees were. Except they had all finished their training and were pilots now, so Menona said.
How did they breath up there, he wondered? How cold was it in the ships at night, so far from the planet, or how hot would it be if they got close to the sun? It didn’t bear thinking about.
The dome didn’t appear to have been damaged at all. It had ceased firing the long, dark pods into the sky, but it seemed otherwise unchanged.
Hudnee sank back into the hollow on top of the island, and closed his eyes for a moment. He felt like he needed a rest from it all. Most of the others stayed glued to the top of the slope, waiting for the next stage in the extraordinary show.
Far above the Barrens, Ayman hadn’t expected the barrage of super-dense slugs to have any effect on the dome. The waterspouts had been impressive, but hadn’t changed anything either.
It was frustrating. If he called on the Valkrethi they could bring down the protective shield in a moment, but then the trap would be sprung with nothing caught in it.
There was no sign of Reaper ships in the Aqua Regis system yet, but that was to be expected. A distress call would have gone out by sub-space comms as soon as the Javelins appeared, but it would be many hours before the closest enemy ships could respond.
The Javelins had a few smaller fusion missiles Ayman could use for a more spectacular light and sound show, but they wouldn’t have any effect on the mining base. Bigger ones would do too much damage to the islands of the Barrens, and probably not damage the dome either.
Apart from which there were Hud villagers down there. The Sea Anemone had picked up life signs on one of the islands, and Menona’s latest report said that some of the Shellport villagers had sailed to the Barrens to see the action.
Ayman shared Cagill’s frustration with civilians. They were another point of vulnerability, and they forced him to spread his defenses thinner than he would like.
These were no doubt part of the militia that had won the civil war against the local religious group – the Descendants of something. Then he remembered that the villagers had the same extraordinary reflexes that made the Hud pilots so valuable. Perhaps he could incorporate them into his plans in some way.
An idea began to form in Ayman’s mind. He had a number of strategies prepared for the next phase of the attack on the mining site, and one of them appealed to him a little more than the others. Incorporating the Shellport villagers would just need a little tweaking here and there.
“Shuttle crews prepare for landing at the Barrens,” said Ayman. “Hud pilots willing to be part of the landing force, report to the shuttles. Details of the landing will be downloaded to the shuttles shortly. Case out.”
That would stir them up, he mused. Every Hud pilot would immediately hand over to his number two, and prepare to take the shuttles down to the Barrens. The one or two trainees who hadn’t made it as pilots and were now training as comms or navs officers would be just as keen. Hell’s teeth, he thought, if it was my planet I’d want to be down there too.
The shuttles descended into the atmosphere on long, shallow glide paths that took them well away from the mining base. In the meantime the Javelins prepared a full salvo of low-yield fusion missiles and waited for Ayman Case’s command to fire them. When the shuttles were at their maximum distance from the Barrens, he told them to do so.
Bright fire engulfed the top of the dome, and a shock wave sent a blast of hot air over the villagers on the Teeth. Hudnee slid back into the hollow behind the ridge, rubbing his eyes. It was a while before the spots in front of him cleared. He looked around and found the others had deserted the top of the ridge as well.
“What in the name of the Prophet was that?” squawked Battrick, awe in his voice.
“Looked like the birth of the sun to me,” said a villager on Hudnee’s right. “If they keep this up the whole planet’s going to catch on fire!”
There was another massive explosion from behind them, and another blast of hot air shot over the ridge, some of it curling uncomfortably down into the hollow.
The villagers were looking worried, and Hudnee decided he had better put some sense into the situation.
“Menona has been talking to the pale strangers, and she said this would happen,” he reassured them.
“The Humans and the Invardii are powerful peoples, and you can see the white fire is trying to destroy the orange fire. Menona told the Humans we would be here, and they won’t do anything to destroy us, or the Barrens. They made that very clear.”
The villagers looked relieved. Hudnee thought to himself it might still be a good idea to retreat back to the Blood river – this was all getting a bit too much for him.
“What’s that?” said Battrick, looking back over the swamp toward the hills beyond. Another villager pointed, and then they could all see it. A strange white shape, like a small flying house, was coming in over the swamp toward the Teeth. Another blast lit up the Barrens, and the strange shape dropped, and then lifted again, as the shock wave hit it. They could see it was going to land by the three dooplehuel on the beach, cutting off their line of retreat.
Hudnee’s hand dropped to the short sword he carried. He regretted not bringing his metal fighting rod. He would feel a lot more comfortable with that if there was going to be a confrontation.
“Battrick, take your crew and go left. Leran, take yours and go right. The rest of us, let’s go see what this thing wants.”
Hudnee led the way down the hill, hoping fervently this was some machinery of the Humans or their allies. He knew that he and the villagers stood no chance against anything the Invardii sent. More gigantic explosions echoed round the island from the Barrens, though the villagers now had the island between themselves and the blasts.
They were halfway down the slope when the side of the strange flying house opened, and a number of people stepped out onto the dry, brown grasses of the island. Hudnee saw the solid, bronze shape of his countrymen and women, and felt a huge sense of relief. None of the villagers were going to die today, it seemed. At least not right now.
The new arrivals saw Hudnee first, then they saw Battrick and his crew approaching from the left.
“Well, oil me innards!” boomed a voice. “Is that you, Da?”
Oil his what? thought Hudnee, hurrying down to meet them. Then he recognised Battrod, Battrick’s son, and stopped in surprise. He couldn’t get over the changes in him. How long had he been away from Hud – a year, maybe more?
Battrod had filled out, but he was still lean by Hud standards. He had grown taller than average for his people, which seemed to compensate for his slighter build. But the authority in his voice now! He had gone away as a youth lacking confidence, one who seemed to have no real future on Hud. But he had co
me back with the unmistakable presence of a leader about him.
Hudnee watched as Battrod spoke quickly to those around him. They listened attentively and went off to the tasks he had assigned them. Then Battrod strode towards his father. Battrick was still able to embrace his son and lift him clean off the ground, to Battrod’s great delight.
It was a heart-warming reunion, and one of Hudnee’s crew found a brother who had left as a Hud trainee too. The new arrivals did some strange things to the flying house they arrived in, which Hudnee thought of it as feeding and watering the strange thing.
Then the mixed company of 21 men and women of Hud sat on the dry grass, while Battrod explained what his team were doing there. He waited for another of the prodigious explosions from the inner Barrens to die away, and kneeled to talk to them.
“You know that scouts from Shellport have led the Valkrethi to the caves at Spitzbergen,” he began.
“That was Menon and Metris,” interjected Battrick.
“Ah, Menon would be in the thick of it, I’m sure,” said Battrod with a smile.
“The alliance force is up there,” he continued, pointing skyward, “as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now. They’re behind the attack on the mining base. The problem is the Reaper ships, the Invardii – our enemy – will take nearly half a day to get to Hud in response to the attack.
“We have to make them think this is a major, prolonged, action, and convince them to send many of their ships, maybe even some of their flagships.”
Hudnee and the others looked blank at the foreign word, but Battrod hurried on to finish his story. “We have to do all this so the Valkrethi can inflict huge losses on the enemy ships when they arrive. Are you with me so far?”
The crews of the dooplehuel nodded their heads.
“What we want to do now,” said Battrod, “is attack the mining base where it’s under the water.”
Rise of the Valkrethi Page 13
