Chapter Seventeen
If hell falls on him, the legionnaire keeps marching.
—Lt. Colonel Magrin-Verneret,
French Foreign Legion, 1940
The terrain in the Zhairhee valley seemed to leap toward him as Fraser switched his helmet controls to the image intensification setting. With his left hand, he carefully dialed the magnification knob on the side of his faceplate until the digital setting of the unit’s HUD read x500.
“Not much of a city,” he said quietly.
Trent stirred beside him. “It’s enough, L-T. Believe me, it’s enough.”
They were pressed flat against a steep rocky outcropping on a hilltop ledge overlooking the valley from the south. The little native, Myaighee, was crouched beside Trent, examining the scene through a pair of native-made binoculars they’d captured in a skirmish three days before. Four legionnaires from Pascali’s recon lance provided unobtrusive security around the hilltop, their camouflage suits blending into the grey-orange background. Out of sight almost five kilometers away, back where the jungle cover was still thick enough to provide concealment from prying eyes, the rest of the survivors of Demi-Battalion Alice awaited their return in the unit’s latest temporary camp.
Fraser studied the terrain spread out below the position. The valley was broad and level, fed by two rivers which wound down from the Raizhee mountains and joined together just under the low rise which held the hannie city.
Much of the plain was inundated here. Myaighee had told them that this area was noted for ylyn farming, and Fraser could see hannies wading through the knee-deep water tending the ylyn paddies. A few of the large, shaggy beasts of burden the natives called zymlats were visible as well.
The paddies were crisscrossed by an elaborate pattern of dikes and causeways, some little more than makeshift barricades, but others supporting multi-lane highways that connected Zhairhee to the outside world. The city rose above it all like an island in the midst of a shallow sea.
Beyond the valley, no more than seventy kilometers away, the jagged peaks of the Raizhee Mountains formed a spectacular backdrop to the scene. They were steep and forbidding, higher and more treacherous than Terra’s Alps. But high above Zhairhee the narrow notch of a pass was visible. Beyond lay friendly Vyujiid … and Fwynzei, the Commonwealth enclave.
Safety …
But only if the legionnaires could get past the daunting obstacle that was Zhairhee.
It had taken nearly three weeks for the unit to reach this milestone after the bombing attack, a long time for a trip of a thousand kilometers as measured on their maps. But every step of that long march had been through rugged, untamed terrain, jungles and foothills and, most recently, the wide expanse of the Jyeindyein swamp. Fraser reckoned they had covered more than two thousand klicks all told as they dodged enemy units and skirted impassable terrain in search of a reasonably safe route north.
Through it all their pursuers had never been far behind. Skirmishes with patrols had become an almost daily affair for a time, and reconnaissance planes dogged every twist and turn of their route. By taking to the swamp route they had finally left the hannie army behind; primitive tracked and wheeled vehicles simply couldn’t follow magrep APCs through such terrain. By overloading the Sandrays and improvising harnesses so some of the men could strap themselves to the hulls of the carriers they’d managed to move everyone in one jump, but the extra weight made the APCs sluggish and unmaneuverable … and the legionnaires couldn’t travel far in such an awkward position.
At least no further bombing attacks had been attempted during the passage of the marshes. Fraser still shuddered at the thought of the casualties they could have taken if the overloaded Sandrays had received the same kind of treatment as the lost command van.
Still, it hadn’t been easy. Battle, fatigue, and mishaps on the march had reduced the unit to no more than 110 effectives, with thirty-three more too seriously wounded to march or fight. Four more vehicles had gone as well, two of them engineering vans that had just given up the ghost, the third a fabrication van taken out of action by a hannie tank in one of the running skirmishes before they had reached the swamp. The fourth, one of the precious troop carriers, had been damaged in the marsh itself after a clinging vine-like plant had fouled the fans and burned out the main rotor bearings. They were still using the APC to carry supplies. Since its magnetic suspension system was still functioning, it could be towed … but, again, it slowed the pace.
Had it not been for the knowledge that friendly territory was so close now, the survivors probably couldn’t have kept on marching at all.
But there was still Zhairhee, and the disquieting reports from the first scouting party that had led Fraser and Trent to reconnoiter the valley in person.
“Take a look over there, L-T,” Trent said, touching his arm. “Bearing 354. Just beyond the airfield.”
Fraser shifted his view until the HUD gave the right bearing. There was a small prop-driven aircraft touching down on one of the runways, but that wasn’t what Trent had been drawing attention to. What was it…?
There. Fraser’s intake of breath was sharp, audible.
Just coming into view on the largest of the roads leading northward from Zhairhee a column of vehicles was rumbling slowly out of town. They were boxy, slow, mounted on wide tracks and painted a uniform greyish-orange. Fraser started counting but quickly gave up.
All-terrain transports of the Dryien army … at least enough to be carrying a full regiment. And making their way north, toward the pass. Toward the border.
“Corporal Braxton was right, then,” Fraser said softly. He was sweating, and it wasn’t all from the humid 30°C noontime heat.
Trent nodded. “He said three regiments went out of there yesterday … one of them armor. One more now. Good God, L-T, how many of the bastards are they sending up there, anyway?”
“More than we can break through, Gunny,” he said. “Could they really be piling that many troops up there just to keep us hemmed in?”
“Doesn’t make much sense, L-T,” Trent replied. “I’ve been reading the survey reports on that pass. It’s too narrow for that many troops to be used effectively. Hell, a couple of companies could hold that sucker against an army for a day or two. Four regiments would just get in each other’s way.”
“Hmmm. Unless …” Fraser trailed off, watching the creeping vehicles on his II viewer.
“What is it, L-T?”
Fraser raised his faceplate and looked at the sergeant. “I’m just spinning this off the top of my head, Gunny, so bear with me. The hannies in these parts suddenly got the urge to throw out all the foreign demons, right? Killed the captain and all the diplomats they could lay their hands on, then went after us.”
“Yeah.” Trent lifted his own faceplate and spat expressively.
“Now we know the hannies have been getting some high-tech help, like info on our sensors and some kind of targeting gizmo. Probably Semti help, if that missile launcher Ghirghik brought in means anything.”
Trent gave a slow nod. “Looks like some of our Semti buddies aren’t so happy with us after all.”
“Well, those ghouls would know that kicking us out of Dryienjaiyeel would just be temporary. Even if they’d wiped us out, you can bet a couple regiments will be heading south to let our monkey friends know that you don’t just turn down a Commonwealth trading deal … or kill off legionnaires. Hell, Isayev’d be leading a punitive expedition this way now if the resident-general would let him off his leash!”
“So you think … what? That the Dryiens have something bigger in mind?” Trent frowned for a moment. Then his face went white. “Not an attack on Fwynzei, L-T?”
“Why not? It’s not that far north of the pass. Push through fast enough, and the hannies just might roll over the city before the garrison could react. The commandant’s got less than half a battalion of legionnaires and a regiment or two of native troops. Everything else is spread out in local garrisons. Hit hard and fast and the hannies could at least lay siege to the port, keep out anything short of an assault ship.”
“Yeah, but they couldn’t keep our boys out forever, L-T. And the Semti would know it.”
“Mounting punitive raids to punish Zyzyiig for his little massacre is one thing. But if we have to fight the whole goddamned planet … it’d throw a murphy into our plans for this entire sector, Gunny.” Fraser stabbed his finger at the enemy column. “That’s an invasion force, and they’re headed for Fwynzei. I’d bet my life on it.”
Trent grunted. “Not a bet I’d take right now, L-T.”
Myaighee shifted uneasily. “Lieutenant,” ky put in softly. The native’s English had improved with further language lessons, and ky wore the rank insignia of a legionnaire third class on the improvised torso armor Sergeant Forbes had assembled in the unit’s surviving fabrication van. “I do not know if this information means anything, but I have been studying the unit crests on those tracks.”
“They mean something special?” Trent asked.
“My … father? Yes, my father’s sibling served in that unit many years ago. It is the Regiment Miststalkers. A very good unit, Lieutenant Fraser.”
“Yes? So?” Fraser couldn’t mask the impatience he felt.
“The unit has always been stationed at the town of Ghynjyik near the head of the Jyikeezh delta, Lieutenant. On the eastern coast. The Miststalkers are light infantry, trained to operate in the jungles and marshes against the primitives of the inland regions.” The alien trailed off, looking at Trent. “I don’t know all the English words yet, Sergeant Trent. But they are very highly skilled soldiers, trained in rapid strikes, raids, operations against superior numbers …”
“Commandos,” Trent said.
“That is one of the words I wanted!” Myaighee agreed. “Commandos. But the very best commandos. One of the most respected units in the army!”
“Elite troops, L-T,” Trent said. “And way the hell off their regular stomping grounds. Would they bring in a unit like that to hunt for us, do you think?”
“If they were desperate enough, maybe,” Fraser said without conviction. “But I think it clinches the invasion theory.”
“Yeah.” Trent flipped down the faceplate again and adjusted his image intensifier. “Yeah, a major mobilization on the frontier. Elite light infantry would be damned useful trying to overrun Fwynzei’s defences. I think you’re right on this one, L-T. Question is, what the hell do we do about it?”
“Damned if I know, Gunny,” Fraser said. “But whatever we do, we’ve got to do it fast. Otherwise there might not be a way out even if we do get across the border.”
* * *
The roar of the props diminished to a sigh as the aircraft rolled to a halt. Asjyai Zyzyiig unstrapped kyself awkwardly, waving away an eager staff officer who tried to help with the unfamiliar harness. Near the rear of the plane the crew chief was already unclamping the hatch.
With kys staff trailing behind, Zyzyiig stalked slowly to the opening. The wind blowing into the aircraft was uncomfortably cool, not at all like the pleasant climate of the capital. Of course Zhairhee was far more pleasant than the uplands north of the mountains, where the army was marching. It still made a distasteful contrast to the comforts of the Fortress of Heaven, though.
But with the final stages of the campaign against the offworlders beginning, it was essential for Zyzyiig to be close at hand to exercise personal control over kys troops. Otherwise, some local field commander might be in a position to claim more than kys share of the credit and threaten the fragile structure of Dryienjaiyeel’s new government.
Workers were wheeling a ladder into place below the hatch. As ky had ordered, there was no ceremony being attached to the Asjyai’s arrival. The invasion schedule must not be needlessly disrupted … and the Terrans, now that they were getting their first reports of the assault across the pass, must not have their attention drawn to unusual visits by VIPs.
Anyway, the last reports had placed the refugees from the demon Foreign Legion only a few days march to the south, in the Jyeindyein region. Best not to tempt fate. After the ill-fated bombing raid, ky had a healthy respect for what those legionnaires could do against air power.
Zyzyiig suppressed a shudder at the sight of the tall figure swathed in black robes standing near the ladder. So Shavvataaars was back from his mysterious errands.
The Asjyai hoped that this time the Semti would have something more concrete to give than vague warnings and obscure philosophy. Ky knew the alien would have something to say about the continued survival of the Legion. Not that they mattered now. They could never reach their friends with the Army Demonslayer between them and their compatriots at Fwynzei. Once the demons had been swept away there, the legionnaires would fall into kys hands like ylyn at a harvest.
Ky descended the ladder slowly, with all the dignity ky could muster. Indjyeek Dwyiiel, the commander of the Zhairhee garrison, stepped forward to greet Zyzyiig. From the set of the general’s neck ruff, it was plain ky was agitated.
“Asjyai … welcome to—”
Zyzyiig cut the officer off with crossed arms. “Never mind the pleasantries, Dwyiiel. I want a full staff meeting in one hour. And why in the name of the Eternal Mists was Regiment Blooddrinkers turned back to the south?”
“We … we had reports of the demons moving through the marshes, Honored,” the luckless commander stammered. “I thought—”
“You are not equipped to think, Dwyiiel. There are other units moving up from the capital who are tasked to deal with the demons. Regiment Blooddrinkers is needed beyond the mountains to exploit success in the attack on Fwynzei, but for that they must cross the mountains. Your bungling may have delayed our attack, and that could cost us this campaign.” Ky looked around the ranks of junior officers around Dwyiiel. “You. You are Executive Officer of this base?”
“Yes, Honored.”
“Wrong. You are commander of this base. Make sure Blooddrinkers return as soon as possible. And assign this fool to them. Ky will make an excellent scout, since ky is so good at thinking and planning.”
“Yes, Honored.”
Ky turned away to meet Shavvataaars as he approached. “Welcome, my Companion,” the Semti whispered. As they talked, they walked together away from the cluster of officers. It would not do to have junior staffers know too much about the deeper layers of the campaign against the Terrans. “I see you are truly taking command of the situation here.”
Zyzyiig studied the hooded face suspiciously. “If you are about to voice your disapproval, save your breath. I will brook no interference in my handling of my troops this time.”
“On the contrary, Honored Asjyai,” Shavvataaars demurred. “I am in complete agreement. The final phase of the Cleansing is at hand, and if we are to finish our burrow and set out traps, we must act swiftly and with decision.”
“Then everything is prepared?”
“Everything. You will have had the reports on our agents’ efforts at the pass, I believe. The traitors made sure the Vyujiid garrison offered no resistance to your lead column. There is a strong blockhouse near the head of the pass which was easily secured.”
Zyzyiig made an impatient gesture. “Speak of the future, not the past, Honored.”
“Very well, my Companion. Events in Vyujiid have proceeded satisfactorily. The merchants, the farmers, many of the common people are ready to throw off the demon yoke. By trying to circumvent the traditional trade routes, the demons proved the lie in their words of prosperity and social equality.”
“Can we expect support in Vyujiid, then?”
“Perhaps not immediately,” Shavvataaars admitted. “The demons are still regarded with great awe by the superstitious. When it is seen that they are not invincible, that they can be wounded and killed like any common mortal, then you will see support. The fall of Fwynzei will surely trigger a mass rising against the demons and their lackeys in the Imperial Government.”
“If Fwynzei falls,” Zyzyiig said, letting kys fears show through for a moment. “Much depends on overwhelming their garrison. Surely they have had time to detect our muster, to prepare for our attack?”
“Time they have had, my Companion, but not enough. Their garrison was not that strong to begin with—a mere battalion of their Foreign Legion, and a few regiments of native auxiliaries. Many of their units have been assigned to serve elsewhere, away from Fwynzei.”
“And have these not been summoned to return?”
Shavvataaars gave a breathy, satisfied sigh. “Our sympathizers have caused many problems in the outlying garrison towns. Sabotage. Agitation. Bombings and threats of bombings. In most cases, the Terrans have not dared withdraw their garrisons, for fear it would turn the Imperial government against them. It was on their pledge of supporting the old order that the demons won the aid of Vyujiid’s aristocracy, after all.”
“Then perhaps we have time to prepare things further, draw off more of their strength?”
Shavvataaars replied with crossed arms. “I fear not, my Companion. Three transports carrying reinforcements are en route to the planet as we speak. I am afraid that this was one moment when fortune did not favor our plans. Their resident-general managed to divert these troops from a carriership that happened to be passing through the systerm on the way to Enkidu. Three battalions of assault troops … a dangerous opponent. We must act before they arrive. It is a matter of days.”
“Then we have to call it off!” Zyzyiig said. Ky lowered kys voice as ky realized the staff officers were looking at them curiously. “There is no margin for error … no way to keep them from counterattacking, whatever we do at Fwynzei!”
“Now is the time of decision, Asjyai,” Shavvataaars whispered coldly. “We must move quickly, yes, though haste is not normally wise. But the rewards if we are successful.…”
“And do you have a plan to keep them from counterattacking as soon as they arrive?”
“More than one plan, my impatient Companion. More than one.” Shavvataaars drew close enough for Zyzyiig to feel his foul breath on kys face. “First, these troops were not equipped to mount unsupported assaults. They are unlikely to attempt a landing in the face of opposition, remembering what your army did to the transport that tried to evacuate the demons from their enclave in the south. If they lose Fwynzei as a base, they are likely to wait in orbit until fresh ships, assault ships, can arrive. That will take many cycles, many long cycles, in which we may consolidate our hold here.”
“It still sounds like a dangerous gamble.…”
“Second, and far more important, you will soon have an ally with nearly the power of the Terrans and their Commonwealth. You have heard of the Ubrenfars?”
“Yes … yes, I remember some Terran boasting over a banquet once. The Terrans outbluffed the Ubrenfars in a dispute some years ago and prevented them from encroaching into this region.” Zyzyiig’s neck ruff bristled. “Are these the allies you offer me? They have lost to the demons once already.”
“I have been in touch with … contacts among the Ubrenfars, my Companion. There are two of their warships in this system now. They will not act unless this world can speak with a single voice to plead for their protection, but once they hear such a voice, their government is prepared to support you here. The Terrans are unlikely to risk a war over this one planet. This time they will be the ones who will back down.”
“And we exchange one set of masters for another?”
“I think not. The Ubrenfars seek only to humiliate the Terrans, to resume their rightful place as a Great Power in this region. Your independence will be protected, no more … unless your people want more.”
“So if we take Fwynzei …”
“The risings will begin in Vyujiid. And your nation in combination with the Empire can call upon Ubrenfar support. The Terran transports might never reach orbit, if our attack is swift enough. And decisive enough.”
“So it all comes down to a single throw of the dice, eh?”
“The Great Journey has been that since the first moments of the coup, my Companion. Any mistake could cost all. But success … success will spell the end of the demons on your world, and the effects could spread outward to bring down their entire Commonwealth. But we cannot have that success without making your gambler’s throw.”
Zyzyiig didn’t answer the Semti. Instead, ky turned abruptly back to face the staff officers. “Where is my car? I need to get to headquarters now. Now! We must finish the preparations and launch the attack immediately!”
* * *
Behind Zyzyiig, Shavvataaars felt a cold flush of satisfaction. The Great Journey was rushing toward completion. Twilight Prowler would soon be in motion.
He thought of what he had told the alien. It was the truth—as far as it went.
But of course Zyzyiig did not need to know that success or failure on Hanuman mattered very little to the overall plan. Once Fwynzei fell and the rebellion began in Vyujiid, it mattered little whether the Terrans abandoned the planet and suffered humiliation, or invested vast time and energy reconquering the planet and exterminating the Asjyai and all kys followers. Either result would set back the Commonwealth and bring the return of the Semti to power one step closer.
Just let Fwynzei fall, and Twilight Prowler would be a complete success, no matter what came afterwards.