Starfist - Kingdom's Swords Part 9

"Good," Sturgeon grunted. His brow was deeply furrowed. He looked into someplace only he could see. What the h.e.l.l kind of weapons were the Skinks using?

Thirty seconds after getting their fire orders, the four orbiting Raptors lined up, pointing their noses at the Swamp of Perdition, and hovered while they locked their Jerichos in with the string-of-pearls guidance system. Then they let rip in six waves of eight missiles. They turned about and headed back to base to refuel and rearm. Two minutes into their return they wiggled their wings at the other four Raptors and got wiggles back. Fifteen minutes after firing they were back on station awaiting another fire mission. 104 104 "Cease fire! Cease fire!" the commands rang out. The mind-numbing whine had stopped, mud no longer pulverized, no more flesh and bone exploded. "Report!" Casualty counts came in. M Company had been pinned down, unable to maneuver to join in the fight. It lost three more Marines killed. Two had limbs blown off, but corpsmen reached them in time to stanch the bleeding and stick them in stasis bags to stabilize them until they reached the hospital. Kilo Company lost four men while maneuvering to Company L's right flank, and another six once they joined the fighting. The a.s.sault company had lost two full squads, a third of its strength, when their guns were hit by things. In Company L, Sergeant Bladon was down. Something had torn off his right arm midway between the elbow and wrist. First squad's Lance Corporal Van Impe was crushed by a toppled tree; PFCs G.o.denov and Hayes were wounded. In second squad, Lance Corporal Rodamour, wounded the night before, was killed. So were Corporal Stevenson and PFC Gimbel in the gun squad. First platoon lost five men, dead or mangled; second platoon lost six. Commander van Winkle didn't give his Marines time to dwell on their casualties. As soon as the battalion surgeon informed him that he was able to gather the wounded and dead, van Winkle ordered the battalion to get on line and sweep toward the enemy position. There wasn't any mud in front of third platoon for the first 150 meters. It had all been baked into dirt by the plasma bolts from their blasters and bigger guns. The dirt was pitted and pounded into dust by the Skink weapons. They had to step or climb over trees; hardly any were left standing. Many of the downed trees-and a few of the standing ones-were smoldering or burning. Those, the Marines walked around. That first 150 meters looked like it had been hit by a swarm of tornadoes accompanied by lightning strikes, but there were none of the scorch marks left behind by dying Skinks. Beyond the first 150 meters, the swarm of tornadoes continued its rampage, but had been abandoned by the lightning.

"H-Have you ever seen anything like this?" Doyle asked. Schultz grunted a negative.

Kerr softly said, "Never."

Corporal Linsman, now the acting squad leader, had but didn't mention it. He once saw a forest after a twenty ton meteorite had exploded in the atmosphere above it. This looked like that, except that had covered hundreds of square kilometers. This devastation was a band a couple of hundred meters wide. A couple of hundred meters wide, but how long? He had heard the explosions of the missiles, but couldn't judge their distance. There was too much other noise, and the sound echoed off and was m.u.f.fled by the trees. He could see a lot farther than he should have been able to in this swamp. In the distance a black cloud rose from the swamp. What the h.e.l.l are the Skinks using? he wondered. A little more than seven hundred meters from where they'd lain to futilely return fire, they reached the closest Jericho hit. The fire started by the missiles was almost completely burned out. Most of the trees had been reduced to embers and charred bits. They continued through. A box three hundred meters on a side had been hit by Jerichos. The area between there and the Marines' former position had been devastated, but the Skink position, if that was really where they'd been, was obliterated. A few badly charred spikes stood up where trees had been, most of the wood and vegetation that had been there reduced to embers and charcoal. There was no chance of finding bodies or even Skink scorch marks. 105 105 "Hey, Dorny, look at this," Claypoole shouted.

"What do you have?" Corporal Dornhofer asked as he trotted over.

"d.a.m.ned if I know, but it used to be something." It was a mess of metal, some bent totally out of shape, some sagged from too much heat. Parts of it had completely melted and puddled.

"You're right," Dornhofer said when he saw it, "it used to be something. But what?" He squatted and used the magnifier shield to look at it more closely. "Rabbit, I've got something," he said on the squad command circuit.

"Show yourself," Sergeant Ratliff replied. Dornhofer raised an arm so his camouflage sleeve slid down to expose his flesh and said, "Coming up."

"Too small for a vehicle," the first squad leader said when he saw it. "Must have been a weapon of some kind."

"Yeah, but what kind?" Claypoole asked.

"The kind that was shooting at us, that's what kind." Gunny Ba.s.s joined them. "Don't touch anything," he said as soon as he saw it. "The navy forensic people might be able to figure out what it used to be."

"You really think so?" Ratliff asked. He looked dubiously at the twisted, half-melted metal.

"I think they maybe really can. Really. Maybe," Ba.s.s said.

The battalion spent the rest of the day searching the swamp in the vicinity of the fight but found nothing. No bodies, no scorch marks, no equipment or weapons. Best of all, n.o.body shot at them. They moved out of the swamp at dusk. In the morning they went back in and swept south, parallel to the route they'd taken north. They found no sign of anybody, n.o.body shot at them. It appeared that the Swamp of Perdition was cleared of enemy forces. Thirty-fourth FIST's infantry battalion returned to its encampment outside Interstellar City to lick its wounds and begin to heal.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

Although not a member of any recognized sect, Conrad Milch was a quiet, reserved, and intensely religious man. As a propulsion engineer all his working life, he had a profound sense of nature's most elemental forces harnessed in the power plants of starships such as the Cambria Cambria . He reasoned that if man could capture the energy of the stars and put it to work for him, then how much more awesome was the Power that had created mankind. . He reasoned that if man could capture the energy of the stars and put it to work for him, then how much more awesome was the Power that had created mankind.

106 Milch was enormously content on that particular voyage because the Cambria's Cambria's chief engineer, a besotted Scot who thought only about his impending retirement, had left the supervision of the ship's drives almost totally in the humble young man's capable hands. Milch spent most of his waking hours ensconced far in the aft reaches of the enormous ship, monitoring the wonders of the Beam drive. He knew little about drive theory, but he knew the drive's components and he could keep them working at peak efficiency. He would happily have stood all the watches by himself; Captain Tuit demanded he eat and sleep to keep his body functioning properly and his mind sharp enough to do his exacting work. When Conrad Milch was away from his drives, he felt no interest in the other onboard operations or the activities of the crew and their pa.s.sengers-until the miners from Siluria boarded the chief engineer, a besotted Scot who thought only about his impending retirement, had left the supervision of the ship's drives almost totally in the humble young man's capable hands. Milch spent most of his waking hours ensconced far in the aft reaches of the enormous ship, monitoring the wonders of the Beam drive. He knew little about drive theory, but he knew the drive's components and he could keep them working at peak efficiency. He would happily have stood all the watches by himself; Captain Tuit demanded he eat and sleep to keep his body functioning properly and his mind sharp enough to do his exacting work. When Conrad Milch was away from his drives, he felt no interest in the other onboard operations or the activities of the crew and their pa.s.sengers-until the miners from Siluria boarded the Cambria Cambria . One day as he pa.s.sed through one of the recreation rooms on the way to the crew's quarters, he saw them holding hands, obviously deep in meditation or prayer. Now there was something he could relate to! He often spent the long hours of his watches contemplating the irresistible potency of his engines and yearning to be one with the omnipotence of the universe. When the men appeared to be finished with their prayers, Conrad approached them timidly. . One day as he pa.s.sed through one of the recreation rooms on the way to the crew's quarters, he saw them holding hands, obviously deep in meditation or prayer. Now there was something he could relate to! He often spent the long hours of his watches contemplating the irresistible potency of his engines and yearning to be one with the omnipotence of the universe. When the men appeared to be finished with their prayers, Conrad approached them timidly.

"What do you do on this ship?" one of them asked after Conrad's clumsy attempt at introductions.

"I'm a Beam drive engineer," he answered proudly. The men looked at each other and then smiled. "Do you say your prayers often?" he asked. Conrad was embarra.s.sed by the question even as it left his lips; he should not intrude on strangers.

One of them looked up at him intently and then replied, "Engineer Milch, all men seek to rejoin the spirit of G.o.d, the Creator. While in these bodies, we can do that only through prayer and the reading of scripture. I believe, brothers," he addressed the other men, "that G.o.d has sent this man to us." Conrad felt a sudden rush of recognition! Yes! He understood that! "Well..." he began in confusion, not daring to tell such obviously holy men what he was thinking.

"Brother Milch," another of the miners said, smiling fiercely through his thick black beard, "won't you join us?" The miners shifted around the table to make an open s.p.a.ce for Conrad. Gingerly, he sat down. Yes, he thought in exultation, I will be one with G.o.d! These men know the Way! He smiled at them and they smiled back.

Lew Conorado lay in his stateroom, preparing for the jump out of Beams.p.a.ce. In only a little while the long voyage would be over and he'd be facing the rigors of his court-martial. For the bulk of the voyage he'd been able to put his problems behind him, distracted for the most part by the relationship that had developed between Jennifer Lenfen and himself. But now his mind whirled. He knew he had done the right thing on Avionia Station, but Dr. Hoxey must have built a strong case against him. Otherwise the government would never have gone to the expense of bringing him all the way back from the far reaches of Human s.p.a.ce to face trial.

Under naval regulations, Conorado could ask for anyone he wanted to defend him-another Marine officer, a civilian lawyer, anyone. But who would he pick? He knew no one back on Earth well enough to ask for such an important service. He would probably just let the Corps pick someone. His basic defense would be that he did the right thing as a Marine officer and as a moral human being to free the aliens Hoxey had imprisoned in her lab. He was certain he could build a strong case on that argument alone. And on top of all that, he and Palmita had to face Captain Tuit after the jump. They were in for an expert a.s.s-chewing. Conorado smiled. If only the judge would turn out to be like the old navy man who in a 107 107 short while would take a chunk out of his behind. And then there was Jennifer. The worst thing about the relationship that had developed between them was that she reminded him so much of Marta when his wife was her age. The similarity was so strong that there were brief, poignant moments when he actually mistook Jennifer for Marta. And that made him feel guilty because Marta was alone back on Thorsfinni's World, the woman who had borne him beautiful children, the woman who had faithfully shared some of the best years of her life with him. Lewis Conorado loved his Marta unstintingly. Jennifer had asked him about Marta, and he'd told her honestly that their marriage was, just then, on the rocks. She also asked him why he was returning to Earth, and he'd lied. Jennifer had accepted the fact that he was married, had been for a long time, and she had told him frankly she didn't care why the Corps was calling him back to headquarters.

"But Lew," she said one day, "I know enough about bureaucracies to know they don't call middle managers all the way across Human s.p.a.ce without a reason. You're in some kind of trouble. You don't have to tell me what it is because I don't care. I just hope you come through it okay." How in the h.e.l.l did I get myself into this mess? he thought. He would probably have killed Palmita that morning if no one had intervened. He'd attacked the man with the same degree of determination and ferocity he would have used had the woman been Marta instead of Jennifer. And that was the problem: he thought he loved Jennifer as much as he loved his wife. Jennifer Lenfen had her own thoughts on the subject. All the crew were at their stations, waiting for the captain to give the command to initiate the jump. Her duties were minimal since the computer systems were all functioning perfectly, but she had her station on the bridge just the same. Just my luck, she was thinking as they waited for Captain Tuit to give the command, that the only man I'd die for is married. Jennifer Lenfen already knew Lewis Conorado well enough to realize he'd never give up his marriage on his own. Even if he didn't love her-and she knew he did-he would never be the one to break the bond. The ache she felt for him seemed like a great big hole through the center of her guts, and it was wonderful. She blinked. A tear ran down her cheek. G.o.dd.a.m.nit, she thought, I hope the others aren't watching! She smiled inwardly and relaxed because, despite her youth and inexperience, she knew that true love was boundless-and not jealous. Just before the Cambria Cambria made the transition from Beams.p.a.ce, Conorado wondered what Marta was doing at that moment. made the transition from Beams.p.a.ce, Conorado wondered what Marta was doing at that moment.

The New Oslo police headquarters was a depressingly modern and spartan place. The officers were neatly dressed, efficient, and polite. At that time of the year-deep winter in that hemisphere-they all wore thick black turtleneck sweaters. The men all sported short haircuts, and those who had facial hair kept it neatly trimmed; the few female officers Colonel Ramadan observed as he walked through the corridors to the chief's office bobbed their hair neatly. They all looked dedicated, but to Ramadan there was something ineffably "garrison" about the New Oslo police force. He had to wonder how they'd operate in the field. He was soon to find out.

"Colonel!" Agdar Vest, the police chief, greeted Ramadan warmly as he entered his office. "So good of you to come to help us out on dis case! I hope Inspector Hamnes briefed you on vat ve know so far about the Conorado woman's kidnapping?" 108 108 Ramadan nodded. Inspector Hamnes, a man of about sixty with a neatly trimmed mustache, was in charge of the operation to rescue Marta Conorado. He had given Ramadan all the information at his disposal on the ride from the aerial port to the headquarters.

"These two-Bengt Trondelag and Kiruna Rena-are professional a.s.sa.s.sins, Colonel," Hamnes had told him. "They are very good, and ve have not been able to gather the evidence ve need to tie dem to the murders ve know they have committed-until now, that is. By taking Mrs. Conorado hostage, they have given us the best witness ve'll ever have. But they are ruthless people, and now they are desperate as well, and I am afraid they will keep Mrs. Conorado alive only so long as she can serve them as a hostage. They must kill her, you see. And the worst part of it is, ve don't know where they are in the mountains."

The New Oslo police did not follow the pair into the mountains because they thought they had a more reliable and less intrusive method for keeping track of them. They sent a surveillance drone on their trail instead, an absolutely reliable and safe tracking method. "Unfortunately," Hamnes had said, "the weather in the mountains deteriorated so quickly we could not continue the surveillance." Ramadan thought of the razzle-dazzle technologies sold to the Corps that didn't work in a pinch, but it was slight comfort knowing others had the same problems. "So what will you do, Inspector?" Ramadan had asked, his heart sinking.

Hamnes shrugged. "When the weather clears a little, ve vill go in after dem. Your Mrs. Conorado is certainly dead if ve don't. The chances are not good if ve do find dem in time. But ve must act because there is the slight chance that way ve can save her." Now, Chief Vest asked, "Haf you brought Mrs. Conorado's medical and dental records, Colonel?" Conorado handed over the crystals. "I vill see dese are returned. I'll gif dem now to forensics." He sighed. "I hope, Colonel, ve vill not haf to use dem, but I must warn you, sir, Mrs. Conorado's position is desperate. Already the snow in de mountains is to a depth of three meters, and vinter has only just begun up dere. If dey make good dere escape, ve may never find her."

"Yeah," Ramadan sighed, "and we don't have the slightest idea where they are."

"Brother Conrad?"

Conrad Milch looked up from his reading of the Book of Revelation and smiled. "Brother Benediction." He stood, and they embraced warmly.

"Brother Conrad, I would like to ask you if Brother Revelation and I might have one last tour of the ship's power plant."

"But-But we're due to dock at Luna in two days. Everyone's preparing to disembark." Milch frowned.

"I do not relish our parting, Brother Revelation. You and your brothers have opened my eyes to so much! I wonder if we may stay in touch-" Benediction lay his hand softly on Conrad's shoulder. "This may be the last time we can commune directly with the wonderful Power, Brother Conrad. It would make our eventual parting so much sweeter if this one last time you could oblige us." They needed Conrad because the shuttle between the last cargo bay and the power plant would not operate unless a certified crew member logged on with his voice and 109 109 palm prints.

Conrad thought. "I go on duty in fifteen minutes. Why, of course, Brother Benediction, I'd be delighted to take you down once more."

Epher Benediction, the bomb maker, smiled. The five "soldiers" of the Army of Zion had studied detailed plans of the Cambria's Cambria's layout for weeks before they boarded her. They had rehea.r.s.ed their moves endlessly, until each man knew what he was to do. During the entire voyage, not one had spoken to any of his comrades about the mission. They did not need to. Each man's duty, along with a schematic of the ship, was burned into his memory. Thus n.o.body on board the ship suspected them of being anything more than a group of eccentric laboring men, because there was no possibility either the ship's crew or pa.s.sengers might overhear anything. Since their luggage was not searched, the bomb's components lay stashed safely in their staterooms. The plan was very simple. Two days before docking at Luna Station, they would seize the ship. Benediction and Revelation would a.s.semble the bomb in the power plant, while Gospel, Lordsday, and Merab secured the crew and pa.s.sengers and locked them into their compartments. At the same time, the destructive devices planted in the lifecraft and on the navigation console on the bridge would detonate, making sure the ship's Earthward inertia was maintained and sealing everyone on board, to die in the explosion that would be timed to occur when the ship blew up. Lordsday, the systems engineer, would use the ship's computer to transmit the Army of Zion's message to the world, which would watch in horror as the cargo, worth trillions, the crew, pa.s.sengers, and Army of Zion all went up in one glorious nuclear detonation between Earth and the moon. Conrad asked Epher what was in the two cases he and Increase Revelation were carrying, and was satisfied to learn they contained sacraments. "We would like you to join us in our last service aboard this ship," Increase said. "It will be a fitting tribute to the ending of this long voyage." layout for weeks before they boarded her. They had rehea.r.s.ed their moves endlessly, until each man knew what he was to do. During the entire voyage, not one had spoken to any of his comrades about the mission. They did not need to. Each man's duty, along with a schematic of the ship, was burned into his memory. Thus n.o.body on board the ship suspected them of being anything more than a group of eccentric laboring men, because there was no possibility either the ship's crew or pa.s.sengers might overhear anything. Since their luggage was not searched, the bomb's components lay stashed safely in their staterooms. The plan was very simple. Two days before docking at Luna Station, they would seize the ship. Benediction and Revelation would a.s.semble the bomb in the power plant, while Gospel, Lordsday, and Merab secured the crew and pa.s.sengers and locked them into their compartments. At the same time, the destructive devices planted in the lifecraft and on the navigation console on the bridge would detonate, making sure the ship's Earthward inertia was maintained and sealing everyone on board, to die in the explosion that would be timed to occur when the ship blew up. Lordsday, the systems engineer, would use the ship's computer to transmit the Army of Zion's message to the world, which would watch in horror as the cargo, worth trillions, the crew, pa.s.sengers, and Army of Zion all went up in one glorious nuclear detonation between Earth and the moon. Conrad asked Epher what was in the two cases he and Increase Revelation were carrying, and was satisfied to learn they contained sacraments. "We would like you to join us in our last service aboard this ship," Increase said. "It will be a fitting tribute to the ending of this long voyage."

"Too bad the others won't join us," Conrad said as he stepped into the shuttle.

"Oh, they are holding their own service elsewhere," Revelation said.

"In another section of the ship," Benediction added. As they rode the shuttle toward the Cambria's Cambria's power plant, Conrad rattled on and on about his readings in the Bible. He was particularly struck by the seventh verse of Chapter Twenty-two of Revelation: power plant, Conrad rattled on and on about his readings in the Bible. He was particularly struck by the seventh verse of Chapter Twenty-two of Revelation: "Behold, I come quickly."

"Yes, Brother Conrad, He will come quickly," Benediction intoned somberly from just behind where Milch was sitting in the tiny shuttle car. "Maybe even today."

"In a blaze of glorious light, I bet!" Conrad enthused.

"Yes, yes, I am sure," Benediction responded, raising his eyebrows at Revelation. They smiled. The shuttle docked at last and its hatches popped open. Conrad stepped out, followed by his two pa.s.sengers.

"Conrad, you a.s.s, what the h.e.l.l is this?" the a.s.sistant engineer on duty barked. "d.a.m.nit, we have to start the G.o.dd.a.m.ned power-down sequence and you're bringing tourists down here?" 110 110 Epher Benediction sat his case carefully on the deck, drew a hand weapon and shot the man in the forehead. Blood, brains, and bone splattered over his instrument console. Conrad gaped. Increase Revelation, standing just behind him, placed the muzzle of his own weapon at the back of the engineer's head and fired. Conrad's gray matter splattered over the opposite bulkhead of the power plant. The two bodies flopped and thudded on the floor for a moment before lying still, tendrils of blood forming into pools on the deck plates.

"What a mess," Epher Benediction sighed as he shifted to avoid a long rivulet of blood creeping toward where he stood. He began to unpack the bomb.

Jennifer Lenfen, Lewis Conorado, and James Palmita stood in a loose semicircle around Captain Hank Tuit's command chair.

"I've looked into what went on down there this morning, Palmita, and you were out of line," Tuit began.

"Captain, I am a diplomat and I have immunity from-"

"Not while you're on my ship, sonny."

"Then when we get to Luna-"

"You ain't getting' off my ship when we get to Luna, not until I say so! And when and if you do get off this ship, you're going off with your tail on fire, boy." He turned to Conorado. "And you, Captain. Don't you think I know what you and Lenfen have been up to? Your conduct as an officer and a married man has been disgraceful. It's been the talk of the ship, G.o.dd.a.m.nit! I'da let it go, until you two idiots started beating each other up in front of everyone." The three stood silently in front of him. Jennifer hung her head; Conorado just stared at a point an inch above the captain's head; Palmita glared at the captain with his one good eye. Inwardly, Tuit smiled. Conorado had done a job on that boy! It'd be months before that eye could be replaced.

"Okay, Jennifer, what should I do to our 'diplomat' here?"

"Sir?"

"Well, you're the 'offended' party, girl! Do you want me to turn him over to the port authority on Luna for-for-oh, aggravated s.e.xual a.s.sault or whatever? Come on, come on, speak up! We dock in two days!"

Jennifer's face turned red. She was sorry the incident had happened, but at the same time she was proud of Conorado for having defended her. "I just want to forget about it all, sir," she stammered.

"What? What did you say, Lenfen?"

"He's lost his eye. That's enough, Captain. I won't press any charges."

"Oh, you won't, huh?" Tuit leaned back in his chair. He picked up the stogie he'd been smoking and puffed on it a.s.siduously, producing a fine cloud of blue smoke. He regarded the three balefully through 111 111 the cloud. It was clear to them that he was enjoying this. "Well, it's my decision anyway. And I haven't made it yet. I'll let you know after we've docked. In the meantime, you three," he jabbed the glowing cigar end at them, "will, I repeat, will have no contact with each other. Now there's one more thing-"

"Emergency, emergency! Attention all personnel!" Minerva shrieked. "Fire on board! Fire on board!

There are fires in the lifecraft! Repeat; fires in the lifecraft! Sealing all compartments and initiating suppression sequences!"

Jennifer leaped to her console; Tuit was right behind her, knocking both Conorado and Palmita out of the way.

Dense, acrid smoke began spiraling up from a spot on the navigator's console. The crew member on duty there leaped backward to avoid the superheated droplets that began to splutter away from the glowing ball affixed to the console. It grew in size as he stared at it. Palmita shoved the man aside and grabbed the glowing ball in his hand. He shrieked in agony as the stuff burned through the fingers of his hand, exposing the bones. He shook his hand violently to get rid of the stuff and a big glob dropped onto his chest, where it instantly ate through his shirt. He screamed terribly and beat at the glowing spot. This only caused the substance to spread from his chest to his hands and arms. He fell to the deck, writhing in agony. A crewman dashed over with an extinguisher, but the substance continued to burn its way through Palmita's flesh. He went silent at last, but only after Conorado grabbed the extinguisher and smashed it several times onto Palmita's head. After a few seconds the stuff burned completely through his body and several millimeters into the steel plating of the deck underneath him before dying out.

"I guess-I guess I'll let that boy off after all," Tuit whispered.

"Navigation's out," the navigator reported. "There was enough of that stuff left to burn through."

"No function at all?" Tuit asked. The navigator checked his instruments. "We have some lateral vernier jets still operating, Captain, but that's all."

"What the h.e.l.l is going on?" Tuit whispered. Then: "Minnie! Damage report!"

"All fires extinguished, Captain. Hull integrity maintained at one hundred percent. Lifecraft propulsion systems destroyed. Captain? Two of the crew in the power plant are no longer operational."

"What?"

"They are dead, sir. They were killed by two pa.s.sengers."

"Give me video, Minnie!"

"The video system in the plant has been disabled."

"Jennifer, send a distress message to all ships and stations-"

"That is not permitted, Captain," Sabbath Lordsday said from the bridge hatch. 112 112 "Captain!" Minerva shouted. "There are armed intruders on your bridge!"

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

"I think you did it, Ted."

Brigadier Sturgeon slowly nodded. "It does appear possible, Jay," he agreed. It was evening and the two of them, Brigadier Sturgeon and Amba.s.sador Spears, along with the chief-of-station, Prentiss Carlisle, were relaxing over drinks in Spears's quarters. Spears c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. He'd heard a hint of doubt in Sturgeon's tone. "It's been a week since you beat them in the swamp, and there have been no more contacts by your Marines, or reports from anywhere on Kingdom. According to Archbishop General Lambsblood, they never went this long without raiding somewhere before." Spears said "they" because he wasn't yet ready to concede that "they" weren't rebels.

Carlisle kept quiet. He did believe "they" were aliens, but didn't feel like making a point of it with his boss with an outsider present, no matter how well his boss and the outsider seemed to know each other.

"That's not all," Spears said with a grimace. "I had a command audience with Ayatollah Jebel Shammar this morning-you know, the chairman of Convocation of Ec.u.menical Leaders. The old boy's unhappy. The Convocation met yesterday and demanded to know why an infidel army is still garrisoned on Kingdom after it defeated the 'demons.' I wasn't able to convince him it's a good idea for you to be here until we can be positive the threat is over. He demanded that you depart immediately." Sturgeon leaned back for a moment in thought. As commander of the expeditionary force it was up to him to decide when the mission was complete. The Grandar Bay Grandar Bay would remain in orbit until he ordered his Marines back aboard or until a higher authority gave him orders to pull his Marines out. He straightened and said briskly, "We don't know how many of them there were, how many might still be out there, or where they came from. For all we know, they're just sitting back, waiting for complacency to set in before striking again. Is it really safe for us to leave now?" Spears nodded. "I agree with you, Ted. The Convocation is making a serious mistake, a potentially disastrous one, if they send you away before you're convinced the threat is past. But they're adamant. As the ranking Confederation officer present, I have no choice but to require you to comply with the Convocation's wishes." would remain in orbit until he ordered his Marines back aboard or until a higher authority gave him orders to pull his Marines out. He straightened and said briskly, "We don't know how many of them there were, how many might still be out there, or where they came from. For all we know, they're just sitting back, waiting for complacency to set in before striking again. Is it really safe for us to leave now?" Spears nodded. "I agree with you, Ted. The Convocation is making a serious mistake, a potentially disastrous one, if they send you away before you're convinced the threat is past. But they're adamant. As the ranking Confederation officer present, I have no choice but to require you to comply with the Convocation's wishes."

"Fools!" Carlisle snorted. He glanced at the other two. "Not you, them. Kingdom was just invaded by an off-world force," finally saying what he'd been holding back. "Even if you Marines did totally defeat the invaders, who's to say that wasn't just a preliminary raid? For all we know, a larger force is on its way right now. Instead of sending you away, they should be requesting a navy shield to stop an invasion fleet, and an army force planetside to combat anybody who gets through the blockade."

"Very good thinking," Sturgeon said. "My thoughts are much the same. Whoever they are, wherever they came from, that fight in the swamp isn't the end of it. Battle has been engaged. It hasn't been ended." He shrugged. "The complicator is, we have no idea whether they want to take and hold Kingdom, or if they have other designs that will have them striking elsewhere next." Spears chose to ignore the implications of what Sturgeon and Carlisle had said. He didn't want to get into a discussion about the origin of whoever "they" were. "Regardless of what might well be excellent military considerations, the fact remains that the Convocation demands that 34th FIST leave." 113 113 Sturgeon gave a wry smile. "A sign of a good guest is being ready to leave when you're no longer welcome. I'd prefer sticking around for a couple more months, but..."

"You don't have to leave tomorrow, of course. Take your time." Spears grimaced. "They need to have their noses tweaked." He took a drink. "They also want the string-of-pearls gone." Sturgeon's smile became less wry. "They're afraid we'll find out things about how they run their world that'll shock and offend the rest of the Confederation." Carlisle barked out a laugh. "It doesn't take spy satellites to do that."

"True believers are the same throughout all of human time and s.p.a.ce," Sturgeon said. "It's their way or be d.a.m.ned. The biggest difference among them is whether they first try to convert those who don't agree or simply kill them. But that's not a problem my FIST can address." Spears sensed a reluctance in Sturgeon, a powerful desire to remain. "I've seen your Marines," he said.

"They seem unhappy."

Indeed, morale had suffered in the infantry battalion. Even though the FIST won the fight in the swamp, it was the Raptors that won it while the infantry suffered the casualties. Sturgeon kept them busy enough that they had neither the time nor energy to dwell on their loss, but constant patrolling without result wasn't actually a morale builder.

"There's no place on Kingdom where they can vent," Spears went on. "They need to raise some h.e.l.l, get drunk, and get laid."

"They do," Sturgeon agreed. "They can't do that here, but they can back at Camp Ellis." He sighed. Spears was right. The Convocation demanded that they leave. Since they weren't actively engaged with the enemy and had no proof the enemy was still present, he knew he had no choice.

"I'll order my people to saddle up and the Grandar Bay Grandar Bay to pull in its string-of-pearls. You can tell the Ayatollah we'll be gone in a few days." to pull in its string-of-pearls. You can tell the Ayatollah we'll be gone in a few days."

"He'll want to know why it takes a few days to leave when you arrived in a matter of hours," Carlisle said.

Sturgeon looked at him levelly. "When we arrived, we had to be ready for immediate action. We don't have that same time pressure now. We can take enough time to make sure we leave in good order."

The Great Master was old. The covers of his gill slits had partially atrophied from lack of use since the last time he breathed water. When he chuckled, the sound rasped from his sides as well as from his mouth. No one dared say where he could hear it-or hear of it-that they found the rasping disturbing. The Great Master knew the underlings found it disturbing, so he chuckled more frequently than he would have had he not rasped. It was good to keep underlings disturbed and frightened-it made it easier to keep them firmly under his control.

The Earthman Marines were departing. His scouts reported the jubilation displayed by the Marine fighters as they boarded their shuttles. He looked forward to reports of their dashed hopes when they 114 114 discovered they were not leaving after all, that they had to face more death at the hands of his Fighters.

"Launch Moonlight Stroll," he rumbled.

"It is done, Great Master." The Over Master in command of that phase of the operation bowed low and backed away from the Grand Master's presence.