The Last Legion: Book One of the Last Legion Series (26 page)

The blast vaporized
Alt
Hofzeiger, his com operators, the rest of the command group, and six of the other twelve men and women. Half of the survivors were down, screaming, moaning in pain, and others were in stunned shock, staring at red-rain-drenched bodies.

Brien shouted, and thirty men and women burst out of their hiding places, and a ragged volley from sporting rifles and shotguns blasted. There were only two still making sounds, mewling like wounded kittens as they squirmed. Brien shot one with his pistol, and a woman shotgunned the other two. “Quickly,” he ordered. “Take weapons, boots, everything.”

A woman rolled a young soldier over, saw her chest move, lifted her archaic rifle. “No,” the soldier whispered. “Please.” The rifle fired once.

One com unit had, freakishly, survived the blast.

“Delta Deuce, Delta Deuce, this is Delta Six. What the hell’s going on down there? Delta Deuce, respond at once.”

“Take that, too,” Brien ordered. “Our Task is easier when we can listen to them.”

Balcha trotted around the bend. “Good,” Brien complimented her. She nodded thanks, knelt over a body, and unfastened its combat harness.

“Is there anyone in the village who tried to collaborate with the
giptels
?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “They are well trained. We need punish no one.”

Four minutes later, there was nothing on the trail but twelve naked bodies.

• • •

Caud
Williams stepped out of his Cooke, walked slowly from the clearing that’d been hastily carved out of the jungle to the ambush site. The last of the corpses were being slid into body bags.
Cent
Rivers, Delta’s Commanding Officer, sat on an uprooted tree, head in her hands.
Cent
Angara met him, saluted.

“Don’t do that,” Williams said. “We’re in a combat zone!”

“Sorry, sir,” Angara said. “I was thinking about … other things.”

Williams nodded, stared down the trail. “Do you have any idea how many casualties these brave soldiers were able to inflict before they were overrun?”

“None, sir. No blood trails, no blood patches at all.”

“They must’ve cleaned up before they fled, the bastards,” Williams said. “Very well, then, we’ll have to make an educated estimate.”

“Sir?”

“How many bandits do
you
think they were able to take with them?”

“Sir, there was no sign of
any
enemy casualties,” Angara said.

“It’s impossible for me to believe women and men that I trained weren’t able to fight back,” Williams said firmly. “And do you have any idea what would happen to morale if we were to tell the men of the Force their fellows were helplessly butchered where they stood?” Angara said nothing. “Very well,” Williams said. “Eighteen of our people killed … probably they were able to take at least one with them. The unit diary will give the casualties as twenty-one probable kills, fifteen wounded.”

Angara still was silent.

“I assume you heard me,
Cent!
”

“Yessir,” Angara said. “Twenty-one probable kills, fifteen wounded.
Sir.
”

Williams stared, and Angara looked away.

“What about the village?”

“I’ve sent two interrogation teams in. So far, nobody knows anything. The woman who said she wanted to help came to the village just as they heard the sounds of our landing, and said they’d treat her as one of them, or be very, very sorry, and anything she said, they must agree with. Most of their young men have already joined the bandits. The villagers said they were forced to go. I’m not sure that’s the truth. They’ve got no idea where the bandits came from, no idea where they went, how many there are, or anything else.”

“Very well,” Williams said. “Carry on.”

He took a deep breath, went over and sat down beside Rivers. She lifted her head, and Williams saw the tear streaks. “You make them into soldiers … and then you lose them,” he said gently. “That’s the way it’s always been. The first time’s always the hardest.”

“Jav …
Alt
Hofzeiger was one of my best,” she said. “I’d recommended him for the next
Cent
Board. Now …” She blinked, swallowed very hard. “They murdered my whole platoon,
Caud.
They shot
Finf
Zelen in the face … she would’ve lived, if we could’ve gotten her evacked in time. But …”

Her voice trailed off.

“Come on, Theresa,” Williams said. “There’s almost one hundred sixty people still alive. They’re depending on you.”

“I know. I just hope there’ll be some way to make them pay for this.”

“There will be,” Williams said firmly.

Rivers looked at a dark, drying stain. Her lips compressed. “Yes, sir. Someone
will
pay. Soon.”

• • •

Two nights later, a Grierson grounded gently about half a kilometer from the village, just at last light. Twenty-five men and women, wearing dark coveralls, faces and hands darkened, got out. They carried pistols and fighting knives. All were volunteers. It was fairly dim — only the two smaller moons, Penwith and Bodwin, were out.

They gathered around
Cent
Rivers. She drew her knife, held it up. “I want everybody on D-Cumbre to know the Force never forgets … and we always punish murderers. And everybody in that village is guilty. I’ll take point.”

She sheathed her knife, and the twenty-five filed off, into the jungle, toward the village.

• • •

“Did you hear the skinny?” Garvin said.

“I heard,” a glum Njangu said.

“Which version?”

“Both,” Yoshitaro said. “
Matin
claims the ’Raum outlaws did it because one of the villagers must’ve given us some good intelligence. That’s the official word.”

“And you know that’s bullshit.”

“I know.”

“Damn, but that’ll teach ‘em,” Garvin enthused. “Mess with the bull, and you get the horns. How many did they kill?”

“About forty,” Njangu said. “Mostly women and kids.”

“I heard
Cent
Rivers led the raid in person.”

“I heard the same thing,” Njangu said.

“So what’re you so gloomy about? That’ll put a chill in all those illegal settlements out there. Teach ‘em they can’t play on both sides.”

“Garvin,” Njangu said tiredly, “come on, man.
Think.
”

“Think what? That’s the way to run things. They kill one of us, we kill a dozen of them. That’ll teach them not to be aidin’ and abetting.”

“It’ll teach them, all right,” Njangu said. “Teach them to be guerrillas.”

Garvin stared at his friend. “How do you figure?”

“Real simple,” Njangu said. “First, think about things from the villagers’ perspective. We come through for half an hour, then go back to this island. The ’Raum live next door. The villagers can add … half an E-hour for us, twenty-six and a half for them to get even.”

“Yeah,” Garvin nodded.

“So if you were a villager, and you wanted to stay a live villager, who would you be more polite to?”

“I guess the ’Raum,” Garvin said reluctantly.

“Now, we’ve started patrolling the hills. We’re going to bring law, order, and justice, right? So the first thing we do, when a patrol gets shot up, is send out a death squad and obliterate the village. Fine court of law there, and a
really
good way to get people to love you, last time I heard.”

“Who said we were supposed to be loved? That’s why they gave us guns.”

“Hide and watch, my friend,” Yoshitaro said. “Every dirt-gobbler that was wondering about things, after that dumb bitch created a slaughterhouse, shouldn’t have much trouble making up his mind. Which side would you pick if you were out there?” Njangu finished.

“Shit,” Garvin said. He slumped down on Njangu’s bunk. “I
wasn’t
thinking.”

“It doesn’t look like anybody is,” Njangu said. “And I’ll bet they don’t start now. Williams can’t court-martial Rivers, even if he wanted to. Which is going to set a real fine example for the next idiot who’s standing there with a gun in his hand, pissed off because his bunkie got his head shot off.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I
know
I’m right,” Njangu said.

“How’d you get to be so damned smart?” Garvin asked.

“I’m not smart, I’m cunning,” Njangu explained. “Cops can make all the mistakes in the world. Crooks only get to make one.”

“So I’d better leave the thinking to you from here on out?” Garvin said.

“Might be safer. And I’ll make you another prediction. This batshit won’t stop anything. There’ll be more patrols hit, and pretty soon we won’t go into the hills at all in anything other than company strength. And then they’ll start sniping at us while we waddle through the jungle, grinding us down one by one.”

“You’re sure a cheery bastard,” Jaansma said.

“I am that,” Njangu said. He put down the sight he’d been carefully cleaning, grabbed his cap from the end of his bunk. “Come on. I’ll let you buy me a beer and maybe that’ll make me into a laughing idiot like the rest of this murderous goddamned Strike Force.”

• • •

An assault team was wiped out three days later, and, four days after that, HQ Honor Guard was almost sucked into an ambush making a sweep five kilometers beyond the Heights.

Less than half a dozen ’Raum were confirmed killed, although the claimed body count was ninety, and only seven had been captured. About six villages were cleared as suspected ’Raum strongholds, and another dozen razed after weapons or other banned materials were found.

Caud
Williams announced a change in tactics — henceforth the Force would patrol in company-sized elements, remaining in the jungle for up to five days, being resupplied from the air while hiving smaller units off on close-range sweeps. “Once these small patrols locate the bandits,” he said, “it’ll be a simple matter either to smash them from the air or hit them hard with the main force. Another advantage we have, and one I propose to exploit to the fullest, is our command of the air. These bandits will become like field mice, always looking over their shoulder for the hawk … and I guarantee it’ll be there.

“This campaign should last no more than another month or two before we bring peace to the hills.”

• • •

“I’ve decided,” Garvin said gloomily, “God … or the gods … hate me.”

“Why?” Jasith asked. “And why is the pickup so spotty?”

“ ‘Cause I’m calling from the public line outside our orderly room,” Jaansma explained, “and there’s about a kazillion taps on the line to make sure I don’t say anything classified. There’s also a delay in the transmission, I think. Not that I would say anything I’m not supposed to. Hell, I don’t
know
anything classified.”

“So why are you so hated by gods and such? You got a chance to call me, didn’t you,” Jasith asked.

“That’s about all I’m going to get to do,” Garvin said. “Because …”

The sound blurred for a moment, then cleared as he said, “so you see why I said that?”

“No,” Jasith said. “Your voice went away.”

“I guess I do know something secret,” Garvin said. “ ’Kay, lemme rethink how to put it.”

“Uh, was it something about us?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe something like it’ll be a while before you see me again?” Again, the sound blurred, but Garvin had nodded while speaking. “I already figured that out,” Jasith said. “Daddy told me what … some real big people told him.”

“That figures,” Garvin said. “Everybody out there, including probably the ’Raum, knows more about my future than I do.”

“Can I come see you?”

“I don’t think so,” Garvin said. “All of our civilian workers have been told to stay away, and they’ve doubled the …” Again his voice blurred. “I’m sorry, Jasith,” he said, sounding as completely pitiable as only a celibate twenty-year-old can. “I really hoped, well, that …” His voice trailed off. “Maybe, someday … aw, hell.”

The two stared at each other for a moment. “I gotta go,” he said finally. “There’s two or three other guys waiting to use this com.”

“Garvin,” Jasith said softly. “Do you still want to … see me?”

“Of course. You know I do.”

“Then let me give you something to remember, when you’re out there.”

She swiftly unfastened her blouse, opened it. She wore nothing under it, and her breasts stood up firmly. She ran a fingernail around one nipple, and it stood up firmly. “I wish it was you doing that to me,” she whispered.

“Me too,” Garvin said, his voice a little hoarse.

“I’d show you more … give you something more … but a housekeeper’s just around the corner. I’ll miss you, Garvin. And I’ll be there when you want me.” She ran a tongue slowly around her lips, then cut the connection.

Garvin sat, staring at the gray screen. Someone hammered on the booth’s door. “Come on in there! Other people got girlfriends, too.”

“Not like mine,” Garvin said. “Not like mine.”

• • •

Two months later, there were about twenty confirmed ’Raum killed, fifty-six captured, eighteen surrendered. Thirty-eight Force men and women were dead, about half that many again wounded. Seventy-three civilians had been killed by one side or another. Forty-six “illegal” settlements had been burned by Force patrols or civilian vigilance patrols. And no one in the Strike Force, beginning with
Finf
Garvin Jaansma, had been granted a pass.

• • •

“You see,” Comstock Brien said, “this is the way to victory. Slow, proven, but little by little we whittle them down, without any expensive adventurism, such as you advocated.”

Jord’n Brooks smiled thinly. “Let us hope, brother,” he said, “that your way continues to be successful.”

“It shall,” Brien said smugly. “And now is a good time to show how our power has increased.”

• • •

Five days later, an estimated two hundred or more ’Raum came from nowhere and seized a suburb of Leggett. They held the holo station long enough to make a planetwide ‘cast proclaiming that justice and equality for the ’Raum must come to the Cumbre system, or the worlds would run with blood. They held a drumhead trial in the town’s police station, and hanged the town’s officials and seven of the local police force. The others had either fled or been killed in the assault.