Space was at a premium. Commandos clung to both sides of the locomotive, squatted on top of the cab just behind the stack, and were crammed into the coal car as well. Most of the smoke passed over their heads but not all of it.
“There they are!” one of the phibs exclaimed, and pointed to the west. Rebo looked, saw the formation of dots, and knew they were wings. The runner faced two choices. He could order the engineer to stop the train, pull his troops together, and respond to the coming attack with massed fire. That technique would probably be effective against the winged variants but would give Arbuk plenty of time in which to bring ground troops against the stationary train. The other possibility was to keep going, accept some causalities, and hope to break through whatever obstructions lay ahead. Finally, for better or worse, the runner chose the second option. The commandos on the roof were attempting to engage the winged variants at extreme range by then but with little success. Rebo turned to one of the noncoms. “Put your best marksmen where they can fi?re on the wings—but tell them to hold off until the bastards come in closer. There’s going to be a hellacious battle within the next couple of hours, and we’re going to need every power pack we have. . . . Tell everyone else to safe their weapons and seek any cover they can fi?nd.”
The phib said, “Yes, sir,” and began to work his way back to the cab. It wasn’t long before some of the commandos came down off the roof while those with a reputation for marksmanship went up to replace them. Then, just as the train passed through the point where the valley narrowed, the airborne warriors attacked. And, thanks to the fact that they had been practicing such maneuvers for years, some of their shots went home.
One of the phibs who was hugging the side of the locomotive looked surprised, let go of the handrail, and fell away from the train. A marksman jerked as a bullet struck his chest. He released his weapon, and toppled back into the coal car, where a commando called for help. A medic stood, lost the top of his head, and collapsed in a heap. The commandos were quick to return fi?re, and a cheer went up as one of the wings spiraled out of the sky, but the phibs were going to take more casualties. Not only that, but Rebo was pretty sure that something worse lay ahead.
Lord Arbuk was angry. Very angry. Which was why he didn’t want to simply stop the phib raiders, he wanted to crush them, even if that meant destroying a valuable locomotive in the process. That was why no less than six cometfi?ring artillery tubes and a thousand troops lay in wait as the train rolled down out of the low-lying foothills and was momentarily lost from sight as it passed through a dip in the terrain.
A platform, complete with awning had been established on a likely-looking rise, and that was where Arbuk, Tepho, and two dozen government offi?cials were waiting to view what promised to be a magnifi?cent slaughter. In the meantime, there was music, refreshments, and an absolute orgy of posturing as the colorfully clad functionaries attempted to outdo one another.
And it was during that period that Tepho slipped away to inspect the high-tech mortar tubes. Since a counterattack was unlikely if not impossible, very little effort had been made to protect the weapons, other than to place them in freshly dug pits. The comets, which had the appearance of inoffensive spheres until they were fi?red, were nestled in protective boxes.
The technologist had numerous questions where the mortars were concerned, not the least of which was why Arbuk’s mostly steam-age culture possessed such advanced weapons, yet lagged in other areas? And it was while visiting with a voluble artillery offi?cer that the technologist learned the answer. It seemed that fi?ve years earlier, while attempting to reopen an ancient mine, Arbuk’s engineers stumbled across a cache of weapons believed to be more than fi?ve hundred years old.
It was interesting stuff, and Tepho was about to ask some follow-up questions, when Logos spoke from the vicinity of his collar. “Sorry to interrupt, but I suggest that you return to the raptor and clear the area as quickly as possible.”
The artillery offi?cer looked dumbfounded as a third voice came out of nowhere. But before he could ask the obvious question, a plume of dark smoke appeared in the distance, a bugle sounded, and it was time for the offi?cer to return to his duties.
Tepho, who was alone now, wished Logos was standing in front of him. “Leave? Why?”
“Because Iteration 1.2 has temporary control of Socket, and if I’m not mistaken, intends to use the satellite’s solar mirror as a weapon.”
Tepho looked up into the sky, realized how stupid that was, and began to waddle up out of the emplacement. There was a loud whump, as the nearest weapon fi?red, followed by a hearty cheer as the ball of highly concentrated energy arced across the sky. The human experienced a combination of fear, confusion, and anger. “Well, if you know about it, then stop it!”
“I’m trying,” the AI responded calmly. “But Sogol has the upper hand at the moment. So rather than pepper me with questions, I suggest that you run.”
Tepho couldn’t run. Not like most people. But he was able to manage a sort of rolling walk, which when he tried hard enough, took on the appearance of a poorly coordinated jog. The raptor, which he had been encouraged to bring so that Arbuk could show the machine off to his toadies, sat fi?fty feet away from the reviewing stand. Because his back was turned, the technologist didn’t see where the fi?rst comet landed, but having heard a second cheer, assumed the shot had been close to the target if not right on it. Then he was there, struggling to enter the control pod without assistance, and fl?ipping switches like a madman once he had succeeded. “Hurry!” Logos insisted urgently.
“Sogol is about to fi?re!”
Tepho wondered who Sogol was but knew the question would have to wait as the raptor came up to speed. “Now!”
Logos shouted. “It’s coming now!” And fi?re fell from the sky.
As the locomotive topped the rise, Rebo saw the comet soar up into the sky, pause as if deciding where to fall, and plunge downward. For one split second he thought the munition was going to make a direct hit on the locomotive, but much to his relief the ball of pent-up energy landed off to the right. It exploded on contact, throwing tons of debris into the air and creating a crater large enough to drop the coal car into. The train swayed as the shock wave struck it, but managed to remain upright, as the descent began. Off in the distance, Rebo could see a rise topped by a gaily striped awning, some carefully prepared troop positions, and freshly turned earth where weapons emplacements had been dug. Not only that, but logs had been placed across the track in an attempt to block it. The engineer saw the obstacle, pulled back on the brake, and hung on to it as metal began to screech.
Rebo realized there was nothing he could do but surrender, and was just about to give the necessary orders when a beam of bright light caressed a stand of stickle trees. They immediately burst into fl?ames. Then, like a ray of sunshine through a magnifying glass, the orbital weapon drew a black line across the rocky landscape. There was a massive explosion as the energy beam slashed across a mortar emplacement, followed by a series of fl?ares as an entire squad of troops was incinerated, and a series of high-pitched screams as the death ray began to close in on the reviewing stand. Arbuk was on his feet by then, screaming obscenities at the beam of light, but to no avail. Dignitaries, including Hitho Mal, jumped off the platform and ran, each intent on saving him-or herself from the devastating weapon. But Arbuk was slow, too slow to make his escape, and there was a loud pop as the norm’s bodily fl?uids burst through his skin and were incinerated a fraction of a second later. Then the rest of the platform disappeared as the ray of concentrated energy burned a hundred-foot-long trench into the rock and soil before suddenly ceasing to exist. A few moments later the entire area was empty of people as everyone who still could ran for cover. The rest lay where they had fallen. The locomotive was still a good fi?fteen feet from the log barrier when it fi?nally screeched to a halt—and Rebo said what everyone else was thinking. “What the hell was that?”