Carnifex. Part 58

Above, in the ad hoc command post, a computer graphics man constructed a diagram of the interior from the reports of the grunts fighting below. Looking over the man's shoulder as he rotated the diagram on the screen, Carrera was amazed.

"Jesus, they must have been building this thing for thirty years, wouldn't you say, Subadar Subadar Masood?" Masood?"

Masood, who had been walking up behind Carrera very quietly, snapped his fingers. It was impossible, so far as he could tell, to sneak up on his Duque Duque.

"At least thirty years," he answered, "to my own certain knowledge."

At that moment an IM-71 carrying wounded lifted off from the valley floor and rotored out, heading south.

"I wish to h.e.l.l I had some kind of gas that would seep down and clear the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds out without losing any more of my men," Carrera said. "Carbon dioxide would do, if we had a way to manufacture it. Chlorine would do even better but that's against the rules."

Masood shook his head in the negative. "Wouldn't work, Legate. There are all kinds of baffles and twists down there. And then how would you get rid of the gas, even if it worked, to search?"

"Probably couldn't," Carrera admitted. Looking at the 3D diagram on the monitor screen, he said, "May not matter anyway. It appears to be mostly cleared."

He looked toward the crew manning the telephones. "You are keeping the men below informed, right?"

"Affirmative, Duque Duque."

"Wait," Cruz whispered, holding up one hand to halt the second of the thirty-nine remaining men of his platoon. There was a shuffling and jangling from behind him as the men ran into each other.

"What is it, Centurion?" his optio asked.

"I heard something ahead."

"This f.u.c.king place is spooky."

"No s.h.i.t."

The sound from ahead died out at the same time Cruz's men managed to quiet down. There was no need for him to tell them to fix bayonets. They'd learned early on that firing a rifle in these close confines was nearly as painful as being shot. Most of the clearing had been done with flame, rifle b.u.t.t and bayonet.

"Cruz, that you?" rang out in Spanish from up ahead.

The thudding hearts slowed immediately as men exhaled with relief. If there had been anything more terrifying than closing to bayonet range in these infernal caverns the men couldn't imagine what it was.

"Yeah...yeah. Dominguez?" Dominguez?"

"Oh, Cazador compadre compadre!" came the laughing answer.

Cruz felt the fear drain away. "Christ, 'Minguez, you scared the s.h.i.t out of me."

"Tell you what, Cruz; you clean my drawers and I'll clean yours and we'll see who has the hardest job," Dominguez answered as he strode forward. "Hey, what the f.u.c.k is this?"

In the IR, using only his monocular, Cruz didn't understand at first. He pulled out one non-IR chemlight and, ordering his men to shut one eye, broke and shook it.

"Holy s.h.i.t!" he exclaimed, looking into what appeared to be a very shallow tunnel with many large boulders blocking it a few feet in. "You don't suppose..."

"Buck it up to higher." In this case Dominguez meant both higher in the chain of command and higher in elevation.

"They f.u.c.king what? what?" Carrera raged.

"It looks like they got away," Jimenez explained. "Whichever direction that tunnel goes in, and I'd be willing to bet it doglegs somewhere, they'll have gotten into the karez system and that's extensive enough they could be heading anywhere.

Carrera felt his heart sink and his energy drain away. All this, for All this, for nothing? nothing? All my men lost or crippled, for All my men lost or crippled, for nothing? nothing? War for almost nine f.u.c.king years, for War for almost nine f.u.c.king years, for nothing? nothing? Why, G.o.d? Why, G.o.d?

He sat down, right on the dirt and gra.s.s. Click. Click.

Jimenez sat next to him. "Hey, we hurt the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," he tried to cheer.

"Not enough," Carrera answered distantly. "Never enough."

"Wonder who that is?"

Carrera looked up to see an FSA helicopter, sporting a red placard with three stars on it, winging in. "Rivers," he answered, "come to claim the nuke."

"The nuke?" Jimenez asked. "There were eleven of them." nuke?" Jimenez asked. "There were eleven of them."

Carrera answered, tiredly, "I know that. You know that. He doesn't. We're going to keep ten...just in case. They've already gone back to base."

"Dangerous game, Patricio. I know we have the seven but those were really really unaccounted for." unaccounted for."

"It'll be fine."

Rivers was escorted up the top of the ma.s.sif by the same naik naik who had seen to Carrera earlier. Neither said a word. who had seen to Carrera earlier. Neither said a word.

Rivers didn't offer to shake hands; he was still furious at being maneuvered as he had been.

"So there really was a nuke."

Carrera nodded. "Yes. I was always certain there would be," he answered. "But their chiefs got away. All we managed to get here were a lot of indians."

"Well, intelligence will be interested in getting their hands even on just indians."

"No...that's not going to happen. We'll develop our own intelligence and share it with you," Carrera corrected. "Besides, there weren't very many indians taken, either."

Changing the subject, in large part because he knew that, if Carrera said he was not going to turn over any prisoners, then no prisoners would be turned over, period, Rivers asked, "How did the chiefs get away?"

"Tunnel. We had no clue before we hit this place but it apparently leads to the underground irrigation system here, the karez."

Rivers thought about that one. "You are planning on giving me the nuke, right?" Seeing Carrera's listless nod, he continued, "Well...just because you share all all your intelligence with us"-Rivers didn't really believe that-"doesn't mean we share all your intelligence with us"-Rivers didn't really believe that-"doesn't mean we share all our our intelligence with you." intelligence with you."

Carrera c.o.c.ked his head to one side, raising an eyebrow.

"We might might be able to tell where they are underground. Don't bother asking how, but we sometimes can." be able to tell where they are underground. Don't bother asking how, but we sometimes can."

Hmmm. He means what? Seismic? Maybe, but probably not. Ground penetrating radar? Too deep. Carbon dioxide emissions? No...that wouldn't work as CO2 sinks. Maybe...

"Thermal? From so far underground? Some of these karez are a thousand feet down."

"It might might work," Rivers shrugged. "I'm promising only to try." work," Rivers shrugged. "I'm promising only to try."

Gunoz Karez, 800 feet down, 13/8/462 Water there was in plenty; all one had to do to drink was stoop. Since it was well above ankle-deep, one didn't even have to stoop that far. Food was another issue entirely. And, since there was none to issue...

"There will be food ahead," Nur al-Deen promised. The word filtered up and back the long line of refugees. "Food ahead...food ahead."

Progress would have been slower but that the karez was dark enough that the women and older girls could lift their burkhas up out of the water and away from tangling their legs in wet folds of cloth. In the light they'd have been too fearful to do so. In Salafi lands girls had been forced to roast to death rather than leave a burning building improperly clothed.

On the other hand, it was a long walk. The men and women simply had had to go to the bathroom. Since there was no way to fully undress, no privacy at all but the darkness, they simply p.i.s.sed and shat themselves. The stench made Robinson gag. Arbeit's vomit added to the stench. to go to the bathroom. Since there was no way to fully undress, no privacy at all but the darkness, they simply p.i.s.sed and shat themselves. The stench made Robinson gag. Arbeit's vomit added to the stench.

I've never really understood these people, he thought, he thought, not until now. I was a fool even to think of trying to make a world government here. All I ever really needed to do was help the Salafis to take over. They'd have knocked this world back so far into the stone age that they'd never have gotten off planet and become a threat to us. When... not until now. I was a fool even to think of trying to make a world government here. All I ever really needed to do was help the Salafis to take over. They'd have knocked this world back so far into the stone age that they'd never have gotten off planet and become a threat to us. When... if if I get back, I am going to throw all the backing I can to the Salafis. It's Earth's best hope. I get back, I am going to throw all the backing I can to the Salafis. It's Earth's best hope.

Trying to get his mind away from the stench, Robinson contemplated his flagship and his fleet. Wallenstein must be in a panic. She would have seen the attack from s.p.a.ce. No doubt she is frantically trying to rescue me, poor little girl. Wallenstein must be in a panic. She would have seen the attack from s.p.a.ce. No doubt she is frantically trying to rescue me, poor little girl.

UEPF Spirit of Peace Wallenstein had the radio traffic from below piped directly into her day cabin. She exulted with grim satisfaction at the news she received. Cheat me, will you, you piece of rat filth? Cheat me, will you, you piece of rat filth?

She pressed a b.u.t.ton on the intercom atop her desk. "Intel, can you identify the frequency the enemy commander is using?"

"They're using frequency hoppers, Captain, but we can copy it," the Intel officer answered. "If I can ask, why?"

"Never mind that. Send the key to communications. Communications?"

"Here, Captain."

"When you get the code, patch me through to the ene...coalition commander down below. Direct from him to my cabin here with no other listeners, understand?"

"Roger, Captain. Only take a few."

The Base The RTO's brown eyes went as wide as saucers. "Duque? There's someone on our push who says she's in command of the United Earth Peace Fleet."

Except for color Carrera's eyes became a mirror of the RTO's. He put out his hand for the microphone.

"Carrera."

"This is Captain Marguerite Wallenstein of the UEPF ship, Spirit of Peace. Spirit of Peace. In the absence of our High Admiral, I am the ranking officer in s.p.a.ce, In the absence of our High Admiral, I am the ranking officer in s.p.a.ce, Duque Duque. I just called to offer my congratulations."

"For?"

There was a moment's hesitation on the other end before Wallenstein came back with, "You did did find the...packages, did you not, find the...packages, did you not, Duque Duque? The twelve twelve packages? You do have my High Admiral in captivity, do you not." packages? You do have my High Admiral in captivity, do you not."

"I found your packages, Captain," Carrera admitted. TWELVE Packages? s.h.i.t. TWELVE Packages? s.h.i.t. "As for your High Admiral, I am still looking." "As for your High Admiral, I am still looking."

"Look well, Duque Duque," Wallenstein suggested. "The packages were his idea, not mine. Besides, if you find him there'll be a gap in my social schedule I'd be happy to let you fill." Though he didn't know anything about the captain, Carrera could almost see the sultry smile on the other end.

"That's all right, Captain. I think I'll be looking very carefully even without such a tempting offer. On the other hand, a.s.suming you would prefer for your High Admiral never to return, as this conversation suggests, perhaps you can help me find out where he's gone."

"Always willing to help in the 'spirit of peace,'" Wallenstein quipped. She sounded positively thrilled to help.

Some interesting politics going on above, Carrera thought. Carrera thought. Pity Rivers hasn't been able to deliver the location of the enemy, yet Pity Rivers hasn't been able to deliver the location of the enemy, yet. He asked, "Can you scan for unusual heat signature coming out of the ground in an area of about twenty kilometers around me?"

"Piece of cake, Duque Duque."

"Get me that, then, and I can guarantee your High Admiral won't be coming to take command ever again. Until then, Carrera, out."

To the RTOs he said, "Not a word, ever, to anyone."

Interlude

21 June, 2390, UEPF Spirit of Peace The huge lightsail was deployed to brake the ship as it a.s.sumed orbit around Terra Nova. Down below the year was 334, AC.

Times there were actually pretty happy. The Federated States of Columbia, a generation past the bloodletting of the Formation War, enjoyed unprecedented prosperity. In the Volgan Empire the Tsar was experimenting with the freeing of the serfs. The continent of Taurus had not seen war on its soil for two two generations, which was something of a record. Moreover, the Moslem and Salafi portions of the globe were, by and large, under the rule of the Taurans, a result of the crushing of the last Salafi jihad. The discovery of oil on the Yithrab peninsula was still a dozen years away. generations, which was something of a record. Moreover, the Moslem and Salafi portions of the globe were, by and large, under the rule of the Taurans, a result of the crushing of the last Salafi jihad. The discovery of oil on the Yithrab peninsula was still a dozen years away.

The rate of technological progress, down below, was worrisome, though. This was why, after much hemming and hawing, the Consensus had finally agreed to build the last four starships-Spirit of Peace, Spirit of Unity, Spirit of Harmony and and Spirit of Brotherhood Spirit of Brotherhood-required to bring the fleet up to the strength that had been decided on centuries before.

It isn't so much that the Consensus acts acts slowly, slowly, mused the new commander of the fleet, High Admiral Jonathan Saxe-Coburg, mused the new commander of the fleet, High Admiral Jonathan Saxe-Coburg, as that it as that it thinks thinks so slowly. Something about the anti-agathics seems not to help with the mind after the third century, or at least it doesn't help with a number of us. His Excellency, the SecGen, seemed particularly badly effected when last we spoke. And the Caliph of Rome? Hopeless. so slowly. Something about the anti-agathics seems not to help with the mind after the third century, or at least it doesn't help with a number of us. His Excellency, the SecGen, seemed particularly badly effected when last we spoke. And the Caliph of Rome? Hopeless.

Or maybe it isn't the failure of the anti-agathics. Maybe it's the sheer stultifying boredom of Old Earth that slows the minds of the people who brought us to where we are today. I confess, I don't know.

And I don't know what I'm going to do about the problem of Terra Nova, either. We haven't changed, technologically, in centuries. You can watch watch the change as it happens down there. Sure, they're at the level of breech loading small arms, railroads and steam, right now. Where will they be in another century? the change as it happens down there. Sure, they're at the level of breech loading small arms, railroads and steam, right now. Where will they be in another century?

Chapter Twenty-five.

Bloomin' loot!

That's the thing to make the boys git up an' shoot!

It's the same with dogs an' men, If you'd make 'em come again Clap 'em forward with a Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot!Kipling, Loot Loot