The T-2 was up to his shoulders in the hole by then-which meant that the containment was about six feet down. The other cyborg said, “Bingo,” as she ran into concrete as well. They were close. Very close. But could they crack the tunnel open quickly enough?
Based on the data provided by her sensors, Ponco figured that the incoming targets were flying robots. Which made sense because while the Ramanthian command structure opposed the use of cyborgs, they had some very effective attack drones in their inventory. So Ponco, a T-2, and a couple of bio bods were waiting for the enemy machines as headlights appeared and three cylindrical robots came sailing down the path. They were equipped with argrav units, nose cannons, and a variety of sensors. The lead unit managed to get off two blobs of coherent energy before it ran into a hail of bullets and exploded.
Having been warned, the second and third machines took evasive action. Ponco went after one of them, saw an opening, and took it. A flash of light strobed both sides of the forest as the robot exploded.
Meanwhile, the surviving drone was driving in toward the hole in the ground and the T-2s working there. It was clearly determined to sacrifice itself if necessary. But the T-2 assigned to assist Ponco fired its fifty and blew the machine out of the air. Santana was so focused on the effort to access the cable vault that he was only dimly aware of the red-hot bits of metal and plastic that fell on him.
Light flared as Private Hopson made use of his energy cannon to slice into the concrete containment. The weapon wasn’t designed for that purpose and quickly began to overheat. But not before it cut through into a hollow interior. That was when another cyborg took over.
Santana felt a rising sense of excitement. Rather than simply dropping the conduit into a trench and pouring concrete over it, the Ramanthians had constructed a relatively spacious tunnel. That meant his troops could not only cut the conduit whenever they chose, but follow it back to the geo tap, and attack the plant itself! And that was important. Because while the bugs might repair the cable before the Confed ships arrived, they wouldn’t be able to replace the G-tap itself. “Hurry!” Santana said, conscious of the fact that the order was unnecessary. “Cut a hole large enough for a T-2 to drop through. We’re going in.”
Temo was in the cell-like room that had been assigned to her, lying on the pallet she had created for herself and staring at the ceiling when Sub Commander Hutlar Remwyr threw the curtain aside and entered without warning. He didn’t like having a human living in his power plant but had been forced to tolerate Temo’s presence because Commander Dammo had ordered him to do so. The result had been a sort of chilly civility between the two of them.
But now Remwyr put all pretences aside as Temo turned in his direction. “Get up,” he ordered. “Animals are attacking. Why?”
All of the Ramanthians had looked alike to Temo until she’d been forced to live with them. And as the renegade came to her feet, she found herself looking at what she knew to be an especially short officer whose left leg had been replaced by a prosthesis. Because of Remwyr’s reference to “animals,” she thought a group of velocipods were attacking the base at first. Then she realized that the officer meant humans. “Because they want to get in?” she inquired innocently.
Though short and stocky, Remwyr was tough. His right pincer stabbed forward, hit Temo in the stomach, and caused her to double over. Then his good knee came up to strike her chin. She dropped like a rock. “I know they want to enter the base, filth… You told me that they had been defeated. And were retreating toward the west. Now they’re attacking. How is that possible?”
Temo had lurched to her feet by that time. Something warm was dribbling down her chin. When she wiped it, her wrist came away red. “My report was correct,” she insisted. “And you know that. Your planes attacked the retreating column twice. So it looks like they tricked you. Part of the battalion continued this way. And they got past my scouts. Or killed them. But so what? The force they sent is bound to be small and lightly armed. So they won’t be able to force their way in.”
“Wrong, animal,” Remwyr responded. “They already have.”
Temo was genuinely surprised. “ Really? How?”
“One group pretended to attack us while a second dug their way down to the tunnel east of here. Now they’re inside and headed this way.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Temo said admiringly. “Somebody has a brain.”
“Get your soldiers,” Remwyr said. “Follow Section Leader Sotim. You will stop them.”
“Or?” Temo said defiantly.
“Or I will kill you.”
Temo sighed. “That’s what I like about you Sub Commander Remwyr. You have a way with words.”
It was dark inside the tunnel. But the combination of the work lights thrown forward by the lead T-2s, and the less powerful spots projected by the helmets the bio bods wore, was sufficient to illuminate the next thirty feet or so. The passageway was so narrow that only two cyborgs could advance, with no more than a few inches between their massive shoulders. Santana and the rest of the troops followed.
The power conduit ran down the center of the tunnel. It was about the same diameter as a man’s thigh and had an oily appearance. The cable was shielded but caused Santana’s radio to crackle and pop. Shiny tracks ran to either side of the conduit. That suggested that the bugs could send some sort of vehicle up the line to carry out repairs on the conduit.
Rather than cut the cable, which would alert the forces on Headstone to the fact that something was wrong, Santana had elected to follow it back. The bugs weren’t going to like that. So he knew it was only a matter of time before the enemy attempted to block him and wasn’t surprised when a bright light appeared up ahead. “This is Alpha Four-Four,” Corporal Pryde said. “A vehicle is coming our way. It’s picking up speed. Over.”
That was bad news. What if they destroyed the vehicle but couldn’t squeeze past the wreckage? But Santana knew that was a chance they’d have to take. “Stop it,” he ordered tersely. “And do it now.”
Both of the lead T-2s fired, but it didn’t make any difference. The light kept coming, slammed into them, and blew up. The powerful blast ripped the cyborgs apart. But their bodies served to shelter Santana and the rest of the platoon to some extent. The blast wave threw him onto his back as Dietrich and the T-2s immediately to his rear opened fire. A dozen Ramanthians had been following along behind the sled. They jerked spastically as the bullets tore into them. Then it was over as more cyborgs crowded past and Dietrich paused to give Santana a hand. “Are you all right, sir?”
“Bruised, that’s all,” Santana replied. “We need to clear the tunnel and do so quickly.”
“I have a better idea,” a female voice said over the platoon push. “This is Major Temo. You might be able to save a few of your people if you pull back now. Otherwise, we’re going to kill every single one of you.”
Santana felt a sudden surge of anger. “Wait right there, you traitorous bitch… We’ll see who kills who.”
The answer was a burst of defiant laughter followed by a click as the contact was broken. Now Santana knew who had been responsible for sending the sledload of explosives up the tracks. Major Temo had a lot to account for, and the bill was overdue.
The replacement T-2s pushed what remained of their dead comrades aside, tore into the wreckage beyond, and ripped it apart. The resulting hole was large enough for a single cyborg to pass through. But that was sufficient, and the surviving members of the platoon began to stream through. “Ponco,” Santana said, as the recon ball appeared at his side. “Scout the tunnel ahead. Look for booby traps.”
Ponco didn’t want to do it. She’d been blown up before. But she couldn’t refuse Santana.