Twenty-one
“Rover, we’ve lost sight of the boat from out here. Do you have visual on it yet?” Polian’s heart pounded as he awaited the skimmer’s reply, and he squeezed his handtalk so hard that it squirted from his fingers. It clattered across the bridge’s deck plates, and Polian kicked at it before he snatched it up.
The Tressen captain stroked his moustache to conceal a smile. “I sympathize with your frustration. But we did everything precisely as you asked. We could have blown those fish-eaters out of the water. We’ve done it before. Your mission, your command, sir. But if they escape…”
Polian faced away from the Tressen captain, stared out at the sky, and swallowed hard. Aboard the Trueborn cruiser circling invisibly above, hiding under a priest’s prayer shawl, rode this mission’s real commander.
Polian was the acting senior command authority for Yavet’s entire presence on Tressel, but only until General Ulys Gill hit dirt. Gill was replacing Polian’s unexpectedly and ironically dead boss, a this-century warrior slain by last-century Tressen influenza. With no suitable replacement on hand, command had plucked Gill off the almost-retired shelf and packed him off to Tressel with the next available detachment. Polian hardly welcomed the change. By reputation, the old moustaches had scant patience with staff officers, especially those who acted like line officers then got it wrong.
“Base, this is Rover.” Sandr’s voice shrieked as he shouted to be heard above the skimmer’s roar. Polian had almost forgotten that he had a question pending to his subordinate.
Sandr said, “No, we’ve lost sight of them. Once we clear the point, we should reacquire visual.”
Pop-pop-pop. Pop-pop-pop. The sound of needle-gun bursts drifted to Polian as the squad pressured up its mounted crew-served weapons.
“Rover, this is Base. Does that sailor with you know where he’s going?”
“Generally. But he says nobody knows the channels and rapids ahead like the fish-eaters.”
Polian blew out a breath. Why did everything on this simple planet have to be not simple? “You have the sensors calibrated, then?”
“Much as we can in a new environment, sir. But it should be simple enough to follow the boat’s telltales.”
Pop-pop-pop. One more pressuring burst.
Sandr said, “And when we catch it, sir, we’ll razor every living thing in it.”
“No! Rover, I want that boat interdicted. But I also want someone alive enough to tell me where it was headed and why.”