Warworld: The Lidless Eye (24 page)

The Deathmaster monitored the Battle-Tongue situation reports, occasionally mentioning some pocket of resistance. Quilland, supremely confident of his troops, only offered advice when he had something to bring to the fight. Stahler was impressed by the Deathmaster’s complete and instant grasp of almost any tactical situation.

“There,” Quilland pointed to a pitched battle that had just ignited. Stahler took the tilt-rotor over the courtyard where the small engagement raged, shrapnel pinging against the fuselage. He caught an updraft and took the tilt-rotor away from the fighting.

He checked his display readouts and listened to his craft’s turbines and rotors carefully. “No damage showing.”

The Deathmaster grunted in answer; he was busy checking the readouts himself. Hailing the three teams in the courtyard, Quilland ordered. “Southeast corner, grenade.”

He nodded for Stahler to proceed to the next spot-check on the list, not even pausing to watch the grenade’s devastating effect on the fort’s few remaining defenders.

Occasionally rifle bullets rang against the fuselage, but the battle for Fort Stony Point was over almost as quickly as it had begun.

“Secure,” came up from the two-man teams, one after another, as they reconnoitered the remaining buildings and fortifications.

“This place is vast, a labyrinth,” an Intel Ranker reported.

“Circle the fort once more,” Quilland ordered.

As they flew over the complicated, ring-walled, much-ruined and much-repaired tier of structures, the Deathmaster studied them with the intensity of a Sauron Nightfang eyeing its prey. Quilland had Stahler fly closer here, fly slower there, hover over this or that courtyard. He nodded to himself now and then.

“We can use this,” he muttered.

The Deathmaster often turned to look at the Karakul Pass, which narrowed a third of the way through, dog-legged, then widened and doglegged again before narrowing to about a kilometer of bumpy hillocks. The pass’s western side was almost sheer, straight up for about ten
kilometers, while the southern side gradually ascended through a series of foothills to the Atlas Mountains looming above.

Fort Stony Point commanded the pass, yet remained inaccessible to almost any ground force that didn’t have good air cover. Even Stahler could see that, properly defended, this enormous fortification would be virtually invulnerable to attack; certainly by any force that the beaten and disorganized Haveners could put together.

“It’s a citadel,” he heard Quilland mutter under his breath. Stahler could only agree; he suspected the Deathmaster had plans for it even now.

Water had been brought aboard the
Dol Guldur
and Diettinger was sure he had never tasted anything so wonderful. The recycled water aboard the ship was metallic and sharp even to Sauron taste buds. It had been too long since their last planetfall.

Twenty standard days had passed since the bombardment of Haven had ended and the ground forces had firmly established their beachhead at Firebase One. Diettinger was speaking with Deathmaster Quilland planetside. Quilland’s forces had just consolidated their position to the south of a small mountain pass in the northeast corner of the Shangri-La Valley.

“By your leave, First Rank.” Quilland’s image looked fit and well, if a little flushed. Haven’s thin air took its toll, he had reported, until one got used to it. That he and his men were “getting used to” air pressures that rendered human norms delirious was immaterial; they were Saurons, after all.

“Speak, Deathmaster. You seem pleased.”

“I am, First Rank. I have the final report on the settlement area nearby Firebase One. The hard data is being uplinked to the
Dol Guldur
, but you asked for a verbal briefing when available.”

“Proceed.”

“The large valley below us, in addition to being almost completely protected by the surrounding mountain ranges, is centered on the equator and thereby enjoys higher atmospheric density than most other areas on Haven, as well as a more temperate climate. As expected, the early inhabitants concentrated their settlements within the Shangri-La Valley. Captives report that females frequently have birthing problems elsewhere on Haven, especially on the northern plains, due to the thin atmosphere. When the outlying districts need to bring their women into short-term leased areas within the Shangri-La Valley for birthing purposes, the Upper Valley cattle have established a taxation system for passage.”

Diettinger found the information encouraging. Sauron genetic engineering did not extend to providing maximum birthing capabilities among their females; in fact, quite the opposite. With high genetic standards for approved births and constant experimentation in gene crossing, Sauron women often had difficulty in carrying fetuses to term. The advanced technology of the Sauron State had dealt with this problem through massive artificial reproduction, exo-genesis programs and embryonic vats. These options were no longer available to Diettinger’s people. He had a good idea about what Quilland was getting at.

“I understand your command now occupies one of the major way stations built by the locals to regulate such access.” Diettinger gestured to the towering structure of natural stone and heavy timbers looming behind Quilland, a stronghold if ever he had seen one.

“Better than that, First Rank. This fortification, which the cattle call Fort Stony Point, is the major way station into the Valley. The air in the upper reaches of these mountains is too thin for most of the cattle to tolerate, save for a handful of passes such as this one. Of these passes,
only a few are open during the summer thaw, and of those, only this one is wide enough to allow mass transportation of personnel and trade goods.

“I recommend establishing a citadel here, with material from the
Fomoria
and most of our troops. There are few heavy elements here in the northeastern Shangri-La Valley, and every scrap of metal we can salvage from the ship will be of great value. It is also close to Firebase One and the city of Evaskar, a trading center we can use for our own purposes. This fort is located in a position to regulate the flow of cattle to and from the Shangri-La Valley and its critical safe-birth zones. This provides us the opportunity to exact whatever tribute we require while culling the indigenous population as we see fit.”

Diettinger nodded. “It also guarantees us control and access to the entire Shangri-La Valley.” He did not add that his first concern in the matter of tribute would be acceptable female breeding stock. With less than two hundred Sauron females available, he did not have to.

“Proceed, Deathmaster. The Combat Engineer Ranks will be put at your disposal.”

Quilland saluted. Diettinger broke the connection, but before the image faded, Diettinger noticed the flaming eye insignia on Quilland’s raised arm. The need for secrecy was past. Indeed, those cattle who had been captured and interrogated seemed only too aware of the true identity of their invaders, though not their reason for taking so worthless a place as Haven. Most believed that the Saurons had defeated the Empire and were claiming Haven as one of their spoils of the war.

As of yet, few of the Soldiers had relinquished their insignia. The “pirate” designation they had abandoned immediately, with noticeable relief.
But something is in their character that had not been there before
, he thought,
something the insignia and more rakishly cut tunics was fostering
.
A swagger
, he decided.

Diettinger was not sure if this should be allowed to continue. However, if it helped his Soldiers accept this harsh world, he was not opposed. He suspected it was their way of coming to terms with the loss
of the Sauron Homeworld and becoming “citizens” of this new one. A side effect he had noticed was that it ran counter to the old State’s blanket “pro-Cyborg” policies. Anything that diminished the Cyborg mystique among the rank and file was, he decided, perfectly acceptable to him.

Now it was time to consult with Breedmaster Caius.

Deathmaster Quilland examined the force drawn up before him, with the partially built Firebase One in the background.

Groundmaster Bohren approached him and saluted. “All in order, sir.”

The Deathmaster nodded his agreement. Certainly, they had more than enough forces to take Evaskar, a town protected only by pitiful stone walls and a bedraggled city militia. For the attack, Bohren had two full companies, one infantry and one mechanized, for a total of two hundred and twenty Soldiers.

The mechanized company included twenty-four of the light, two-man Waltimire ATVs. The tanks came disassembled, with engines mounted on a hex-frame. The rest of the tank was built from strong, lightweight tubes which were connected by joints to create individual vehicles best suited for local terrain. For an Imperial force, the tanks would have been larger, used steeper outside angles, and lower profiles to deflect armor-piercing rounds.

On Haven, speed mattered more since the expected Havener resistance was fairly primitive. The tubes could be filled with sand or dirt, which strengthened the chassis, which itself could ride on a variety of wheels or treads. The engines were basic HCT’s, hydrogen conversion-turbine
engines, and could drink anything containing the first element for fuel, including water; a real plus given Haven’s thin air and extremely limited petroleum supplies.

Typically, Waltimire tanks carried no armor of their own, since they were designed for swift attacks. Pockets opened into slots on the outside frame which were filled with sand or dirt surrounding the body of the tank, sometimes with sheets of flexible Kevlon that unrolled to stiffen along their molecular grain into plate armor. Waltimires were easily transported, even by interstellar ships, and could be bulked up quickly for maximum protection to crew and tank.

Two or more Waltimire frames could be combined into larger vehicles and even armor could be forged for special situations. Quilland doubted armor would be necessary for the attack on Evaskar. It might be needed later when they besieged Fort Kursk, headquarters of the Haven Volunteers. Saurons rarely conducted sieges, and Quilland couldn’t imagine a situation in Evaskar that would require anything heavier than these vehicles.

Quilland watched as Bohren climbed aboard the lead tank. He wished that he could take charge personally, but administrative details over the arrival of the
Dol Guldur
had left him little time for anything else. Bohren was a competent, if unimaginative, commander. He would do.

Colonel Nelson Harrigan examined the Brigadier with a look that was just shy of insubordination. “We’ve only got three nuclear shots, sir. Why waste one on this Diettinger when we could better deploy them to take out this main Firebase of theirs?”

Not for the first time, Brigadier Cummings decried the breakdown in militia command that had given Colonel Harrigan delusions of independence.
It’s probably my fault
, he thought.
Spent too much time at Fort Kursk and not enough at Fornova.
On the other hand, there had been no end of crises in Castell City and he hadn’t had much time to travel or make needed inspections.
Well, I’m paying for it now.

“You overestimate the power of this weapon, Colonel. It’s a tactical nuclear weapon with a quarter-megaton blast, not a city-buster. The Saurons have already hardened their staging area. The worst we can do now would be to cost them a few casualties and some inconvenience.”

“Not if we set up a diversionary attack—”

“Yes, Colonel, and have half our command caught in our own blast!”

“No. But—”

“Enough, Colonel. If we can take out Diettinger and some of his aides, we can chop the head right off the Sauron serpent. From the transmissions we’ve been able to crack, there’s already a split in the Sauron camp between the Cyborg Super Soldiers and the regular troops. If we can kill Diettinger, there’s a good chance this will break into open warfare. Besides, Diettinger is frighteningly capable even for a Sauron. Diettinger was the one who developed the Alderson asteroid gambit, sending automated rocks ahead of ships to take the brunt of defensive weaponry.”

“Yeah, but we used it, too, sir.”

“Right, after the Saurons neutralized half the Imperial Alderson battlestations. Then we took out theirs. In the end, both sides—except for vital outposts—stopped trying to defend Alderson junctions. And who gained? The Saurons. The Empire has five times as many worlds to defend and without the Alderson battlestations we had to fight our battles in space or on the ground. More casualties, more lost worlds. No, it was a brilliant strategic move.

“I just wish we had better communications with the Empire. I’d like to know what Diettinger’s been up to in the past half dozen years since our last dispatch. I’m convinced that Galen Diettinger is the key to any long-term Sauron success on Haven.”

“So how do we stop this Diettinger’s clock?”

Cummings pointed to a series of mountains just southeast of the Sauron beachhead. “We’ll put one of the missiles up there with a squad. Then, to keep the Sauron’s attention where we want it, we’ll start a counter-offensive against their firebase.”