Homefall: Book Four of the Last Legion Series (24 page)

Bayanti, in the days that followed, put shame to the idea that younger brothers always follow in their elders’ shadows. Dalet Eibar found time on her hands to report his doings, for Bayanti was in constant motion, from Protectorate world to world, fleet headquarters to shipping companies.

He had not been speaking emptily when he said everyone would be part of this battle. Training battalions were pronounced ready for battle as they stood, and fed into the battle roster. Merchant ships were given hasty armaments, often no more than a pair of missiles mag-clipped to the ship’s hull and a simple computer and launch mechanism hung somewhere on the bridge.

To those who worried about losses in the invasion of Degasten costing them dear when they moved against Centrum, his answer was brief:

“The replacements, though they don’t know it, now serve with Gegen. After we destroy my brother, his men and women will be given one chance to redeem themselves for their treason.”

• • •

Garvin was mildly surprised when Bayanti summoned him, to give him his orders for the invasion.

“I chose to do this personally,” he explained, “because you are aliens, and know little of our struggles.

“Also, to be personal,” and he colored slightly, looking at Dalet Eibar, who sat primly beside him, “since your circus brought this woman to me, who appears to have luck with her, I feel I owe you a debt.”

“No,
Kuril
,” Garvin said. “You owe me nothing.” Except to let
Big Bertha
go on her way, and he couldn’t quite figure a way to put the request, and then it was too late.

“But I do, and so I will give you an opportunity to serve me, and to be present for my triumph, at which time you and your crew will be rewarded.

“I propose to keep you and your ship in our rear echelon during the landing on Degasten. When a landing zone has been cleared and is secure, we shall send for you.

“I envision your men, women, and animals being of great use in helping our wounded recover their morale before returning to battle, as part of our Retraining Force.”

There was nothing to do but bow, offer profuse thanks, and not look at Eibar, who was trying not to laugh.

There were fifty troops, under the command of a
Tain
Kaidu, assigned to
Big Bertha.
Kaidu, who looked to be a fairly competent soldier, if not a hardened warrior, explained that the soldiers were to ensure there was no hint of mutiny while the circus was with the military. “I know civilians, for some unknown reason, fear and hate serving under us. Think of me, Gaffer Jaansma, as your strong right arm.”

Garvin looked at him carefully, saw no trace of irony.

“Now what?” he asked Njangu.

“Now we deploy our people, to make very close friends with these guards, and wait for the time being right to haul ass away from these lunatics.

“Speaking of very close friends” — he sighed — “and of battlefield conversions, at least we won’t have to worry about rescuing our Dalet. I got a message, through the means I set up before we chased her into Bayanti’s bedroom.

“I saved and printed it.”

He passed a slip of paper across. All it read was:

“Oh, grand,” Garvin said sarcastically. “No worries about rescuing her now, and of course it’d never cross my mind that Eibar might really, really fall in love and start singing to Bayanti about everything, starting with us and what we’re after.”

“ ‘Course not,” Njangu said. “That would be a good example of befouling one’s own nest, also known as crappin’ on the old mess plate, wouldn’t it?”

But he held up crossed fingers.

• • •

“Twenty-seven seconds to lift, sir,” the watch officer told Liskeard.

“Got it … somebody want to gimme a ship count of all those zoomies out there?” Liskeard asked.

It was just dusk, and the horizon was lit with ships taking off.

Garvin lost track at eighty-two.

Tain
Kaidu, beside him, was starry-eyed, watching the might of the Protectorate move against Degasten.

“Ten seconds to takeoff,” the bridge talker said.

Liskeard poised his hand over the sensor.

“Counting … four … three … two … one … lift!”

Big Bertha
shuddered, came free of the ground, hovered tentatively, decided to keep on climbing.

“And so, the bountiful battlefleets of the proud Protectorate coolly climbed toward space, their glorious goal the degenerate dissolutes of the ghastly Gegen,” Garvin said.

Liskeard snorted.

“Poetry,” Kaidu breathed. “Real poetry. Damn, but I’m glad I lived to see this day.”

“When,” Kekri Katun asked Ben Dill, “will we take them?”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t play innocent, Benjamin! Remember, I’m the spy that found out everything!”

“Not quite,” Ben said. “There are secrets within secrets.”

“Like what?”

“Like when we take them,” Ben said. “Besides, nobody told me, either. Probably when they least expect it.”

“How superbly analytical,” Kekri said sarcastically. “I’m going to the gym. The least I can do is be in some kind of shape when we start hitting people.”

“We?”

“Who else do I have to side with now that I’ve snitched off my employer?”

“Strong point,” Dill said. “But can’t we get in some kind of shape right here?”

“Doing what?”

Ben whispered in her ear, bit it, and Kekri yelped.

“Later!”

“Later I might not have the steam for something that exotic,” Dill muttered.

“Then that’ll be your tough luck, won’t it, mister?”

• • •

“I have decided,”
Tain
Kaidu said, “to require the circus to turn in all firearms. We shall hold them safe until needed.”

“Not sure if that’s a good idea,” Njangu said. “Although, of course, we’ll cheerfully obey. But you’ve got to remember that most of the firearms … the handful that we do have … are required in the event any of the animals break free.”

“If that happens,” Kaidu said, “my soldiers will be able to respond within seconds.”

• • •

“Morning, gentlemen,” Dr. Froude said cheerfully as he, Fleam, and two other men wearing coveralls carried toolboxes and piping into the long bay assigned to the Protectorate’s security detachment.

“Whazzat you’re doing?” a noncom grumbled.

“You’ve got more people in here than the present conditioner can cycle,” Froude said. “We’re running an extra line.”

“Well … that’s damned thoughtful,” the warrant said.

“Thought the smell was your feet,” a soldier called to his mate, and the workmen set to.

By the end of the ship-day, the new line ran down both sides of the compartment, out, and down the corridor and into another, smaller compartment. There it was linked to a small pump, entirely separate from the ship’s air-conditioning system.

• • •

Two dozen weapons were turned in to the Protectorates. Four of them were archaic, hand-worked projectile weapons, two were blank-only show weapons, and the rest were blasters Njangu said were normally handed out when
Big Bertha
made a landing on an unknown world.

Of course, many more, and the crew-served SSWs, were still hidden about the ship in search-proof hideys.

Kaidu, who said he was a reasonable man, told Njangu he had no interest, of course, in the missiles in the
aksai
or Nana boats.

“Just trying to keep myself and my men safe,” he said.

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” Yoshitaro said heartily.

• • •

“I do not understand this about guns,” Sunya Thanon said to Ben Dill. “I asked Alikhan, and he said an explanation might be more logical coming from a human, since all Musth are always armed.”

“Ask,” Ben said, who knew the two elephant handlers were trying to learn to be soldiers, and had laughed his ass off watching Alikhan learning to ride an elephant.

“These Protectorate men who took our guns,” Thanon said, “now have power over us, is that not correct?”

“Correct.”

“Then, is it not true that, in an equal society, all men ought to have guns, to keep from being downtrodden?”

“Uh …” Ben hesitated, remembering great heaps of people he knew were incompetent to have any weapon beyond a basic rock. “Sort of. Maybe.”

“So then,” Phraphas Phanon said, “anyone who tries to not permit you to have a gun is a budding tyrant, and should be killed.”

“That’s taking things a bit too far,” Ben said. “Like, maybe several light-years. Tell you what. I’m just a common, ordinary weightlifter. Whyn’t you ask somebody intelligent, like Dr. Froude?”

“Good,” Thanon said brightly. “We shall do just that.”

But Froude didn’t have a good answer to the question either.

• • •

Felip Mand’l curled around the overhead duct, watch in hand, as the four Protectorates went by. They didn’t look up, and if they had, wouldn’t have thought to find a little person above them.

After they were out of sight, he made a note of the time, went down a doubled-knotted cord to the deck, and off to report to Maev Stiofan, who had the security watch.

• • •

The soldier held out a bit of fruit to Loti, the smaller of the two baby elephants. Loti, a polite sort, curled her trunk up as she’d been trained, came forward, daintily plucked the morsel, and swallowed it.

A second later she squealed in pain and then rage as the pepper-packed fruit went down her throat.

The soldier roared laughter as the elephant stumbled back toward her mother, moaning.

Still laughing, he turned, and met the eyes of Sunya Thanon.

His laughter died, and his slung blaster slipped off his shoulder.

But Thanon did nothing more than look at him.

• • •

The soldier backed down the corridor to a port, went through it hastily.

“The question is,” Danfin Froude said to Njangu, “is what you plan on putting down the pipeline for our guests.”

“Dunno,” Njangu said, evading Froude’s eyes. “Something that’ll take ‘em out quick.”

“Logic would suggest a lethal gas,” Froude prodded. “That will prevent future problems.”

“Yeh,” Njangu said. “And everybody in the circus, including half the Legion people aboard, will think that I’m a murderous bastard.”

“Indeed,” Froude agreed. “First, I can reassure you most of them already have that opinion, and, secondly, a sleep gas is a deal harder to synthesize than something that does a nice, clean job of killing.”

“I dunno,” Njangu said again.

“
Do
think about it,” Froude said, smiling gently.

• • •

“You know,” Sunya Thanon whispered to Phraphas Phanon, “I have had a terrible thought.”

“Kiss me and it will go away.”

Thanon obeyed. “But it is still here.”

“Then tell me about it.”

“Perhaps this Coando that we seek … the land where elephant and man are equal and friends … really does not exist.”

“I know it does,” Phraphas said firmly. “Just as I know we shall find it.”

“Perhaps we are living in it,” Thanon said. “Living in it here and now, on this
Big Bertha
ship and with the circus, not knowing our luck.”

“Do not think that, my love.”

“All right,” Sunya said doubtfully. “At least I shall try not to.”

• • •

“I’ve decided,” Garvin announced, “this whole operation has become entirely too much of an adventure.”

“Is ‘oo ready to go home and hide under the bed?” Darod teased.

“Uh, no,” Garvin said, as Jasith came to mind. “Not quite yet.”

“What you’ve got, troop, is low morale.”

“You think so?” Garvin asked.

“Yup,” Darod said, sliding out of her nightgown. “All you need is to get your little lights screwed out, and you’ll be perfectly ‘kay.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Garvin agreed.

• • •

Emton, looking for one of his cats, hoping the little idiot hadn’t wandered into this big-cat caging area, rounded a corner and froze in horror.

Tia, the missing cat, was crouched across a corridor from the leopard cage. One leopard, Emton thought that evil black bastard Muldoon, was lying very close to the bars.

Tia got up, and pranced close to the bars, and Muldoon swiped at her.

“Tia! Come here!” Emton almost shouted.

The black kitten looked at her supposed owner, made a sound like “prrt,” danced toward Muldoon, and avoided another strike.

Emton darted forward and grabbed Tia.

“You are stupid, truly stupid,” he scolded. “Big cats, wild cats absolutely hate little cats! What do you want, to be that monster’s dinner? Thin-sliced kitten?”

Tia looked up at Emton and started purring.

• • •

“I think you might be able to use this,” Ristori told Garvin, handing him a key.

“What is it?”

“The key to the contraband arms cabinet you gave
Tain
Kaidu.”

“How’d you get your hands on it?”

“A simple plunge, with one hand, four straight phalanges to hook, and it was mine. That, by the way, is a copy. I returned the original to the
Tain
, and he never noticed.

“I thought, thought, thought those guns might be useful in the coming days.”

• • •

“Well,” Njangu told Maev, “I think we’re as ready as we’re going to be.

“Now all we need is a little external distraction for our guards.

“A good healthy space battle would do just fine.”

The old theory, before Man went into space, was that someone in a spaceship or satellite had an innate advantage over his planet-bound enemy. This was the “gravity well” belief — the fighter on the ground would have to overcome gravity to get his missiles or ships on an equal plane for combat.

The basis was from ancient wars, where the man on the clifftop or castle rampart could happily cock a snook and drop heavy things on the attacker below.

In fact, it didn’t work out that way in space, since the “gravity well” proponents didn’t bother to consider that any ship bombarding an object on the ground would be in a predictable orbit. All the defender had to do was launch a flock of missiles into the orbit of that ship or satellite overhead, and matters would take their course.

Sometimes, the old saw was true, just as sometimes the belief that “the bombers will always get through” was correct.

But not often, and certainly not for Bayanti’s attack on Gegen’s stronghold of Ogdai.

The fleet held about three AUs off Ogdai, and the elite first wave attacked.

Their intent was to take geosynchronous orbits and bombard Gegen’s forces from space, especially his stronghold. Other ships were to orbit the world, taking targets of opportunity or assigned targets from Bayanti’s Command and Control craft.

When everything was sufficiently pulverized, the troopships would land.

Of course, neither of the “Protectorates” worried about the original inhabitants of Ogdai, although no nuclear devices were used, since Bayanti wanted to occupy turf that wasn’t gently glowing.

Gegen, not being stupid, had laid careful defensive plans — several species of unmanned satellites, down to the completely antique kinetic variety, were positioned in various orbits around Ogdai, plus bases on all three of the planet’s moons.

A swarm of patrol ships launched as soon as Bayanti’s fleet entered the Degasten system, plus Gegen already had about half his fleet offplanet.

Gegen waited until Bayanti’s first wave was committed, and his computers could analyze their tracks. Then he struck. Well-emplaced missiles shot up from the planetary surface, and the waiting satellites were activated and went after their targets.

Inner space was a horror of explosions, ships exploding, tearing apart, going out of control and pinwheeling down into gravity’s claws. Just out-atmosphere was a snarling dogfight of fighters, all control lost as they went after targets or tried to evade contact.

Half a planetary day later, and the remnants of Bay-’anti’s first wave reeled back toward the fleet.

Gegen’s ships dived back for their bases to rearm and wait.

Bayanti raged on the bridge of his flagship, threatened commanders with relief, with being shot, accusing them of cowardice and treason.

• • •

“Now?” Garvin murmured into Froude’s ear. They were on the bridge of
Big Bertha. Tain
Kaidu watched the biggest screen worriedly, two of his soldiers behind him.

Lounging near the rear of the bridge were Lir, Njangu, Maev, and Ben Dill.

“Let’s give it time to develop a little more confusion,” Froude said.

Bayanti feinted with his second wave, drawing Gegen’s forces offplanet. Then, escorted by three battleship squadrons, he sent in his attack transports. Ships slammed in, ramps dropped, and troops on foot and in Aerial Combat Vehicles got the hell away from the landing zone as ground-to-ground missiles hurtled in.

Next, the units should have formed up for the attack.

Instead, they just sat there, in tight defensive perimeters. Possibly their high commander had been killed and no one took charge, possibly that officer froze in place.

Bayanti’s troops were getting hammered, slaughtered as they sat, while Bayanti fumed again on his bridge.

He fought for control, found it, studied his main tac screen, trying to figure what to do next.

It took a while — describing the battle from afar suggests there was coherency, analyzable movement, instead of swirling madness.

• • •

Bayanti made a decision, ordered all frequencies to all of his ships opened, and ordered all combat ships of any configuration to attack, repeat attack.

They were to swarm Ogdai, taking any target they could.

Most of Bayanti’s warriors obeyed, and armed transports, light escorts, dived in-atmosphere, headed for the ground.

Gegen’s antiaircraft systems broomed them from the skies, but there were more behind them.

Gegen’s fortress was a mask of flame, the land around it fire and the shatter of crashed ships. But it seemed completely unharmed, its defenders still fighting hard.

• • •

“Now?” Garvin muttered again.

“I think so,” Froude said.

Garvin snapped his fingers.

Tain
Kaidu had an instant to turn, to see Njangu on his feet, two steps and in the air, feet together, lashing out.

His neck snapped, and he chicken-flopped to the deck.

One of his bodyguards had a pistol out, and Maev shot him. The other unslung his blaster, just as Lir’s knife buried itself in his throat.

“Now, goddammit, why no fun for Ben Dill?” Ben asked plaintively.

“Shaddup,” Garvin ordered. “Liskeard, get us out of here!”

The ship captain obeyed.

Just before the main screen blanked as
Big Bertha
jumped into hyperspace, Garvin saw a dot that was, in fact, a battleship, dive vertically into Gegen’s fortress, at the center of the swarm.

“Shit!” Dill said, having seen the dive. “Wonder what happened? Wonder if they got Gegen?”

“Dunno,” Garvin said, motioning to a talker, as the crazy blur of N-space surrounded them. “Don’t care. Got other stuff to worry about.”