Revolution's Shore (34 page)

“I hope he got out before his boat blew,” Lily had time to say before Pinto targeted them for the first high buildings. After that she had to concentrate on her grip on her chair.

“Damn my eyes,” whispered Jenny as Pinto's light hand on the controls took them scant meters above, and sometimes scant meters between, the maze of Blessings's capital. “I wonder how many windows we're shattering.”

It took eight harrowing minutes, each one pulled into an agony of stretched-out time, before they drew their first fire.

“I'm going street level.” Pinto's voice sounded calm and strangely detached.

“Four minutes to rendezvous,” gasped Finch, so taut with nerves that he could barely speak. “Reinforcements coming from B and C areas, not the adjacent postings. I get constant assault readings still from post A-seven. Aren't we supposed to wait for the backups?”

“We don't have time.” Lily glanced to either side. “Jenny. Yehoshua. Get your squads. We'll hit the ground running.”

It proved easier, despite the sharp, hard maneuvering of the shuttle, to get squads arrayed in the back cabin, because they did not have to watch walls whip past the canted wings, so close that it seemed impossible they did not crash. Once a heavy object shattered against the hull, rocking them, and throwing half the people to the floor, but with a brief flare of engine the shuttle went on.

Three minutes—four—they could hear the muffled ricochet of firing above the roar of the engines. Small shudders shivered through the hull.

Finch: “We—are—down.”

Jenny's team went first, crouched, running down the ramp, followed by Yehoshua, and last, Lily, leading Aliasing, the Mule, and Rainbow.

They used the bulk of the shuttle's belly to cover them as they sprinted to the edge of the street. The shuttle itself took up most of the street span. For an instant Lily could marvel at Pinto's incredible piloting, and then the first spray of fire shattered windows above her head, and she waved her group forward.

Post A-seven was situated to guard in toward the city's center, the cordoned-off area, but Immortals were never unprepared for any actuality. Already two large guns yawed around to face the new threat and white-uniformed soldiers scattered to adjust their shielding.

A hot explosion obliterated one of the guns. Lily pressed her people forward to the next scrap of cover under the protection of the boiling cloud of fire and steam that heaved up from the hit.

She threw herself down on the pavement and sprayed covering fire across the position as Jenny and her pair darted forward. Beside her, Rainbow swore. Lily glanced back to see blood streaming down the Ridani's leg.

The other gun leveled and aimed.

“Break forward,” Lily shouted. They dived ahead as the masonry four meters behind burned and shattered under the gun's fire. “Rainbow, cover from here when we move forward.”

Fire arced through the post, and several Immortals fell, but Lily could not tell the direction it came from. From the building above Jenny, a new rack of shooting opened up: Yehoshua had gone up, to add a third angle to their fire.

His firing pinned down the far corner of the post. Lily ran forward and crouched; the Mule and Aliasing split behind her, and broke into a sprint to hit the nearest opaque shielding of the post.

She flung herself around it without a break and had the briefest glimpse of a grim-faced man lifting his rifle before she shot him. Fire ricocheted around her. She caught a glimpse of Jenny grappling with an Immortal, fighting for his gun.

The second big gun exploded. Searing waves of heat flooded over her, and she yanked the dead Immortal over her to shield herself. After a moment she shoved her rifle out and fired at the next rank of shielding.

“Wait,” hissed Aliasing, appearing abruptly beside her, crouched, eyes intent ahead. “He's broken through.”

An Immortal fell, shot with scathing accuracy through the head. A second came tumbling backward. An instant later a new, brown-clad figure appeared and shot with dispatch the struggling Immortal.

Brilliant gold hair. Several figures materialized behind him. To the right Lily saw the white uniform flash out of concealment, but Jehane had already launched himself into the attack in a manner so reminiscent of Jenny that Lily wondered how anyone could ever mistake his fighting for anything but Immortal trained.

Lily lifted her gun, but could not trust herself to shoot. Beside her, Aliasing calmly aimed and fired and the Immortal fell at Jehane's feet.

He turned. Looked across the gap—not so great, Lily realized now in the fleeting lull afforded by this tiny victory—between him and Aliasing.

And stared.

It was an instant's reaction. Across fifteen meters Lily could see his face clearly, even as heat simmered across it, melding with wisps of steam; she could see the lines of his posture transform as he recognized the tiny figure staring back at him.

For that instant, Lily knew without question that Jehane was too stunned by this vision of Aliasing—small, fragile-seeming, and yet utterly at ease in Immortal whites—to speak.

More figures, perhaps Jehane's entire group, stumbled into the relative security of post A-7's shielded center. Most were wounded. Lily rose and moved forward.

She found Jenny beside her. A welt, oozing blood, scored the dark woman's hand.

“Tupping idiot,” she swore. “He isn't even wearing a helmet.”

“He looks prettier that way.” Lily hailed the nearest refugee, grasping his arm. “Get your group moving!” she snapped. “Board the shuttle just past here—Move!”

A few glanced toward Jehane, but most hustled past her, crouching as Yehoshua in his position above began firing past them.

In the muddy swirl of their retreat, wounded dragged or carried along, Jehane still stared at Aliasing. Even when a huddle of refugees crossed his line of sight he stared, as if he could see right through them.

A black-clad man came up to him. “Comrade. How can we thank you? We would never have gotten out of there without you. You were magnificent.”

With a visible effort, Jehane returned to himself and transferred his gaze to the man before him. “You leave now to continue the battle here?” he asked, smooth as if nothing had interrupted his drive out of the city.

“Yes. Thank you. Thank you. We will carry on the fight.” The man grasped Jehane's hand, pumped it, then took a step back and gave him a half bow more worshipful than respectful.

“Fall back,” said Lily. When Aliasing did not respond, she gestured to the Mule. “Carry her if you have to. We've got to go
now
!”

Above, Yehoshua kept up a steady stream of fire, but through it Lily could hear the movement of heavy ground vehicles and a new echo of fire nearing them.

The black-clad man hurried away into a narrow alleyway, and Jehane jogged gracefully forward to halt beside Lily.

“It seems,” he said, “that I am in your debt.”

“Jenny,” said Lily quickly, “get back in covering position and call Yehoshua down.”

Jenny acted immediately, waving back the two Ridanis with her, but flashed a brief glance of vivid anger back over her shoulder at Jehane as she retreated.

Lily turned back to find Jehane still regarding her thoughtfully.

“I'm not waiting for the reinforcements to show up,” she snapped, “and after all of the trouble I've been to, I'm damned if I'm going to let you either.”

A final barrage from Yehoshua's gun triggered a shuddering explosion down the street.

Jehane smiled, but it was a wistful and surprisingly vulnerable expression. “I had forgotten how beautiful she is,” he said softly, “gracing that uniform that was once a badge of honor.”

“Hoy,” breathed Lily, feeling a sudden cold prickle of misgiving run up her back. “If I'd known, I wouldn't have brought her.”

But he was already off, sprinting for the shuttle, and did not hear her.

W
ITH EFFORTLESS EFFICIENCY JEHANE
got his refugees strapped in by the time Yehoshua and his pair came pelting up the ramp.

Pinto had the shuttle off the ground before Finch could begin retracting the ramp, and above the buildings just as Jehane strapped into the seat behind him, Lily sitting where Jenny had on the trip down.

“Hold on to your seats!” shouted Finch, and then Pinto took them up at an angle and velocity that brought screams from the wounded and gasps from everyone else.

Black engulfed Lily's vision as a vise gripped her chest, faded to a haze of spots and grey, and then she could see again: the back of Pinto's head and the stark tattoos visible between his throat and collar; the curving gleam of Bach blocking her view of Finch; Jehane's profile: golden hair brushing along the sculpted line of his cheek, lips parted slightly under the strain of their climb.

No one spoke for minutes as Pinto, body relaxed and yet entirely focused, guided the shuttle up. From the cabin behind, Lily could hear weeping. She could not tell who it was. Beside her, Yehoshua cursed softly under his breath, mostly imprecations about “damned tattoos.”

Slowly the vise lightened as Pinto slacked off their climb. Lily found she could take real breaths. Yehoshua let out a long sigh.

“Cursed Ridani,” he swore in a good-natured voice. “If you weren't such a cursed good pilot we could have gotten blown up on the way in and not had to suffer through these damned Gs. I'm too old for this.”

In the clear plastine of the shuttle's windshield, Lily could see the ghost of Pinto's reflection, all geometric lines etched in faint traceries, and she thought the corners of his mouth quirked up—although she could not be sure.

“I have a signal from the decoy pilot,” said Finch. “He is downside, and still alive. That's all I can tell.”

“Good. Monitor the full range of comm—” Lily broke off and glanced at Jehane.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “A Ridani pilot.”

Lily watched him watch Pinto. He blinked once, twice, as if there was a clue here that he was missing, and wished to find.

“Ah,” he said suddenly. “Senator Isaiah's son.”

Nothing in Pinto's body betrayed his reaction to that statement. Lily glanced at the windshield, but the angle of light had erased his reflection.

“Where are we going?” asked Finch.

Jehane turned his head to look at Lily—not at all as if he were deferring to her, but rather as if he were wondering why Finch needed to ask that question. He noted each occupant of the forward cabin: Pinto, Finch, Bach, and Yehoshua, and then, of course, he understood.

Lily wondered, suddenly, if he was angry at her appropriation of her former crew from the
Forlorn Hope
. She could tell nothing from his expression.

“To the
Boukephalos
,” he said. Then he unstrapped himself and went into the main cabin to check on the wounded.

Jehane kept Lily and Bach with him when they left the shuttle bay. His first words, coming onto the bridge, were to Kuan-yin.

“Have you positioned the fleet as I directed?”

For a fleeting moment she looked irritated. “Yes.”

“Then.” He sat in the captain's chair and swiveled it around to face Lily. Tapped the com on his console. “Send shuttle and crew back to the
Forlorn Hope
,” he ordered, watching her. She did her best to keep her face and stance expressionless. “The Hierakis Formula,” he said. “What is it?”

Surprise betrayed her. She simply stared at him, unable to answer, or not to answer convincingly.

He lifted his hands, palm to palm, and rested his lips on his thumbs as he studied her. She was aware of Kuan-yin staring at them until a slight movement of Jehane's head sent that woman back to her duties. At the other stations, the crew remained intent on their work.

Tapped the com again. “Contact Captain Machiko on the
Forlorn Hope
. Have him send his physician here. I have casualties I want him to look at.”

He resumed his study of Lily.

She had recovered herself, somewhat. Bach winked silently at her, neutral yellow.

“Request permission to change out of battle dress,” she said formally.

He smiled. His brown tunic and trousers were soiled with grime and stained with dried blood, but he looked perfectly at ease in them. “Granted. Although I will want you back on the bridge once you have—”

“Comrade!” The woman at comm, her tone urgent. “
Savedra
reports two ships not ours entering low and fast in sept quadrant—no—and two more in terce, reported by—wait”—she frowned as reports began to flood the comm—“Another three—” Broke off again.

Jehane dismissed Lily with a wave of his hand as he settled a headset over his golden hair. “All fleet on red. We have contact. Open fire.”

Lily left the bridge, but she felt it wise under the circumstances not to change out of battle dress. Having no cabin, she went to Medical. Duri let her clean up and had one of her assistants go to Armory for a full refit and reload of her rifle and oxygen package.

Bach monitored the battle on screen over the next hours.

The
Boukephalos
did not even fire a shot.

“Void bless,” murmured Lily as Central's incoming fleet took scathing fire and shattered under its concentration. “He must have planned this out from the beginning: the entire Blessings revolt must have been the decoy to lure the fleet in here piecemeal, in a hurry.”

Duri regarded her, puzzled. “What did you expect? He is Jehane. By the way, would you mind if I took a new sample of your blood? I still have no idea what that illness was. Although I did get a suggestion to—”

She looked up as the door to Medical sighed open. Stood up, startled.

Lily turned and rose as well.

Jehane had entered, followed by Hawk.

Kyosti took in the room with a comprehensive glance, not giving Lily an instant's longer glance than Duri or the bank of medical equipment. And yet Lily knew that he somehow savored her presence, carefully and completely, in some way that the others could not detect—not even Jehane, who kept his watchful gaze on Hawk and seemed ever-so-slightly displeased that the blue-haired man had no stronger reaction to Lily.