''I didn't think you'd want us down here to have all the fun,'' Kris chided him.
''What gave you that idea? Oh, no, you go right on and have it all,'' Drago offered.
''I've already computed a course,'' Navigator Sulwan Kann put in over the comm. ''Do you want us coming up his tail or dropping back from ahead of him?''
''Let's allow for the tail chase,'' Kris said.
''Yes,'' Captain Drago said, now deadly serious. ''Yes. Let's position us for a long tail chase.''
''Let me know if you pick up anything at all while you're overhead.''
''We will. Bye for now.''
And Kris found herself once more alone in the dark night driving into a day that had not yet begun to dawn. But before the sun set, all the questions before her now would be answered.
* * *
Colonel Cortez spat out the dirt he'd nearly eaten and tossed aside the thermal blanket as soon as the sensor tech called ''Sky Clear.''
''Everyone up. Get moving. You're wasting daylight,'' he shouted. Someone pointed out … in a whisper … that it was pitch-dark. Like a smart colonel, he ignored the wag.
''Don't wad up that thermal blanket,'' Cortez shouted at a psalm-singing private who had begun to do just that. Colonel Cortez was well aware that colonels do not correct privates. However, three sergeants in their white beanies were standing around doing nothing as at least one private destroyed his ability to hide from orbital spotting.
''Sergeants,'' Captain Sawyer said, climbing out of a hole behind the colonel. ''See that the men secure their property properly. This may not be the last hole we need to skulk in.''
''Yes, sir,'' the sergeants answered, and began moving among their troops, turning wadded balls into squared-away packages.
''I'm sorry, Colonel,'' Sawyer said. ''The men had been briefed on the thermal blankets but not since we landed.'' Which was a polite way of reminding the colonel that sometime in his copious spare time, he should have issued just such a reminder.
He hadn't. Nothing could be done about that.
''Captain, your Third Company is the center. I want you to hit those ditches fast and hard. First and Second Companies will come in from your flanks,'' Cortez said, glancing around. If they were not exactly milling about, they certainly weren't moving toward the enemy. ''What do you say Third challenges First and Second to a race to the ditches?''
The captain grinned. ''Yes, sir. Sergeants, form the men. Form on me.'' And with only the briefest of pauses: ''Follow me,'' Captain Sawyer said, pulling out his compass and taking a reading. He altered course slightly to the right.
Colonel Cortez trotted off to the right and found the young captain commanding First Company. ''Third Company says they intend to beat you to the ditches.''
The Ever Victorious officer glanced up from where he and a sergeant were warming tea, from the smell of it. ''In Joshua's dreams,'' he said. The semiwarmed water went into the grass, and the sergeant dashed off, shouting to his subordinates. In a moment they were formed and trotting off after Third.
Except for two troopers. One had stepped into a hole. The second stayed behind to render aid. Cortez paid little attention to them. He was already trotting for Second Company.
Someone had his eyes open. The youngest captain had mustered his troops and was already jogging after the other two.
Colonel Cortez swung himself around and followed in the tracks of Third Company. It was good to get this bunch moving toward contact. It would be very bad if they just kept running until they ran right into the fool farmers. Captain Sawyer probably had the smarts to halt his men at the last tree line on their side of the ditches. Probably.
Cortez would be a lot happier if he was there to make sure.
* * *
Sergeant Bruce waited an extra ten minutes after the Wasp was out of the sky before releasing Nelly's nanos. The wind was coming from behind him and toward the dugouts. It should add extra range to the computer's handiwork.
Nelly had also programmed the nanos to look for something to rest on. Some of the ones intended to cover the swamp and its approaches settled onto saw grass, reeds, and swamp scum. They reported their presence to the display on the sergeant's eyepiece, then went silent. It showed good coverage.
A dozen or more nanos rode the wind, reaching out for the distant tree line. If he could get them caught near the top of a few broom trees, he'd have a good view of all the approaches.
For a good part of an hour, the Marine watched nothing happen. Then his wrist unit reminded him that the hostile spaceship would be overhead soon. Bruce closed his visor and pushed himself back into the water. He found a log, pinned a whip antenna on it, and slipped himself under it.
Something was already there, under the log. Something sharp and strong worried the Marine's boot for a second. Bruce pulled his foot out and smashed out with it. That settled the argument. Unless it returned with its big brother or five, Bruce figured he had the log for the duration.
* * *
''Hernando, things are going well.'' Thorpe was glad to see.
''We should have them whipped before you get back next orbit,'' the ground pounder said.
''Colonel, you sound out of breath.''
''I am running. My command is running, William.''
''Just so long as it's toward the enemy,'' Mr. Whitebred said, smiling. Thorpe wondered if the idiot had any idea of the insult he'd just given to the ground half of the operation.
Hopefully, Colonel Cortez hadn't heard him.
If he had, the colonel showed no interest in it. ''Have you got anything better on those other hostile groups?'' he asked.
''Nothing. One on the other side of the river. One or two north of you. I'm not sure if they haven't all gathered at that area you call the ditches. Hard to tell from orbit to orbit and at night. But there's no activity south of you. Wipe out these terrorists, and the rest will follow like sheep.''
''I'm glad you think so,'' Cortez said.
The colonel's age was beginning to show. He did sound winded.
''Since I have nothing more to report, I'll click off and be waiting for your count of killed and captured. By the way, if you can capture that Longknife girl, I hear some people are willing to pay a pretty penny for her. More alive than dead, but whatever,'' he said diffidently.
''We will count what we have to count,'' Cortez said, and the commlink went dead.
* * *
Kris took a drink from the bucket of freshwater hanging in front of the barn door. The sensor tech looked up from his gear.
''Hostile is out of our sky, ma'am.''
''Mount the troops, Gunny.''
Others beside Gunny moved to obey. A gray-haired woman in a long wool dress of many colors walked quickly among the farmhands, a rifle held comfortably in the crook of her elbow. ''We're wasting daylight,'' she said in a firm voice.
''I don't see no daylight,'' some wag, a guy, shot back.
''Jacob, don't be more stupid than you usually are,'' put an end to that.
Drivers were more awake this time. The rigs rolled out of the barn, garage, and other outbuildings and quickly re-formed in the three lines that had become the norm. Inside of ten minutes, the wing from the other ranch formed on Kris's right.
The east was starting to show color. The assault on the dugouts wouldn't be long now. If Kris was in charge of that attack, she'd try to get at least part of the way across the killing ground before good light turned matters deadly.
That was the right way to do it … and despite the miserable choices she'd given Cortez so far, he done as well as he could with them.