“I don’t know,” a phib answered pragmatically, “but we’re still a good fi?ve miles from the ocean. Let’s move those logs and get the train going again before the norms can regroup.” It was excellent advice, and Rebo took it. By easing the train forward they were able to nudge two timbers off the track—leaving the commandos to muscle the third out of the way.
Five minutes later Arbuk’s soldiers began to emerge from hiding, but they were too disorganized to mount a coordinated attack, so could do little more than take potshots at the train as it pulled away from them. Meanwhile, having withdrawn to the top of a low-lying hill, Tepho eyed the scene via the raptor’s optics. He was angry—no furious—
and his voice quavered as he spoke. “Are we safe here?”
“We’re safe,” Logos allowed cautiously. “And now that I know Sogol is present, I can prevent her from taking control of Socket again. Unless she fi?nds a way to get aboard before we do, that is—which would be extremely unfortunate.”
“How very nice,” the technologist said sarcastically. “I want to know everything there is to know about Sogol—
and I want to know it now.”
The ensuing conversation was quite acrimonious, and still under way, when Tepho brought the raptor to a halt not far from all the carnage. Not to check on Lord Arbuk, as the nobleman might have hoped, but to secure the unexploded comets. Because even though the ironclads had been destroyed, and a second AI had appeared out of nowhere, Tepho was still in the race. And if Buru was the lock—then the comets were the key.
The island of Buru
During the hundreds of years since most of the star gates had been taken off-line, and humanity began the long, backward slide toward barbarity, the surrounding vegetation had closed in on what had been a two-lane highway until it was little more than a game trail. That meant Shaz, Phan, and the pirates they had engaged to accompany them were forced to whack at all manner of runners, vines, and branches as they fought their way up the path. All of them took turns, but it was exhausting work and left them soaked with sweat.
However, the same holes in the canopy that allowed sunlight to reach the jungle fl?oor provided the small party with frequent glimpses of the sky and the wings that circled above. Sightings that would have been a lot more comforting had it not been for the lackadaisical commandant who welcomed the foursome ashore with what could only be described as unconcealed resentment. Because poor though the posting was, the wing was in charge and saw the mainlanders as a threat.
But orders were orders, and once the commandant read the instructions issued by Lord Arbuk himself, there had been little choice but to provide what assistance he could. That, after some discussion, turned out to be a succession of airborne guides who were to make sure that the party remained on course and report back should they run into trouble. A virtual certainty from the local’s perspective, since the strangers had chosen to ignore his warnings regarding jungle sickness and enter the interior anyway. All of which had been documented, sealed into a pouch, and sent to the mainland. So that when Arbuk’s agents turned up dead, as they almost certainly would, the commandant would be in the clear. The variant took pleasure in the thought and went to lunch.
The day after the raid on Prost dawned clear, and with only moderate winds, conditions were perfect for the relatively short trip to Buru. The norms didn’t have any large ships to speak of, since the phibs were almost certain to sink anything that attempted to cross one of “their” oceans, thereby placing severe limits on the shipbuilding business.
But there were some sizeable coastal vessels, which were at the very heart of the so-called revenge fl?eet, still being assembled in Esperance Bay. The concept, as put forward by Tepho, and subsequently communicated to Arbuk’s functionaries by Hitho Mal, was to punish the enemy by attacking the phib stronghold of Buru. And, such was the anger at those who had come ashore to destroy the ironclads, and even gone so far as to unleash a secret weapon on Arbuk’s troops, that no one in a position of power chose to question the plan. Even though every one who was familiar with Buru knew that while the waters around the island were thick with phibs, none of them lived ashore.
But only the most courageous wags gave voice to such doubts as the citizens of Esperance turned out to line the cobbled streets, threw fl?owers at the passing sailors, and cheer them on as the raggedly stalwarts rowed out to their ships.
There were no cheers for Tepho, however, thanks to the fact that he, along with his entire staff, had been loaded onto one of the smaller vessels during the dead of night. They stood in the stern and watched as the surviving members of Arbuk’s personal staff were ferried out to the largest ship, which by virtue of its size and the colorful bunting that Tepho had purchased for it, would serve both as the fl?agship and the enemy’s primary target. Meanwhile, lesser craft, such as the brig that the technologist had chosen for himself, were likely to be ignored. That was the plan at any rate—and the technologist saw no reason it wouldn’t work. Sunlight sparkled on the surface of the bay, and a band played atop the seawall as a puff of gray smoke appeared next to the gaily decorated fl?agship. The dull boom was like an afterthought as it rolled across the bay. That was the signal for the assemblage of fi?shing boats, coastal luggers, and other craft to get under way, and Tepho watched with considerable amusement as dingy sails were hoisted, boats collided with one another, and a tubby ketch ran aground. It took more than an hour for the poorly organized fl?eet to sort itself out and fi?nally leave the bay, with Tepho’s vessel bringing up the rear. Word of the armada’s departure, not to mention its well-publicized destination, arrived in Shimmer minutes later. The war for Buru, if that’s what it could properly be called, was under way.
The island of Buru
The commandant didn’t fl?y as much as he once had, which explained the small potbelly that hung over his belt and his somewhat labored breathing as his leathery wings beat at the air. But by nosing into one of thermals that rose off Buru, the administrator was able to get some additional lift. His scouts had warned him of an unusual amount of phib activity, and once the commandant reached an altitude of two hundred feet, he saw why. Phib warriors had always been easy to spot once they ventured into the shallows, and dozens of dark shadows could be seen patrolling offshore. The question was why? Did the sudden interest in Buru have something to do with the combat variant and his emaciated companion? Or, and this seemed more likely, were they waiting for the so-called revenge fl?eet that was on the way?
The whole notion of which made no sense to the wing—since Buru was the last place to go looking for large concentrations of phibs. Or was he wrong about that? Because the inshore waters were suddenly thick with phibs! So maybe the high muckety-mucks knew what they were doing for once. Tired by then, and happy to glide most of the way to base, the commandant did what any successful bureaucrat would do. He dispatched a message to his superiors, told his subordinates to keep an eye on the situation, and went off to take a nap.
It was dark by the time the much-battered revenge fl?eet neared Buru island. Sadly for the citizens of Esperance, the once-proud armada was only half of its former size by the time it made landfall. Consistent with Tepho’s predictions, all of the larger vessels had been sunk by enterprising phibs, who made use of their motorized sleds to get out in front of the oncoming fl?eet, where they could wait for the ships to pass overhead. Once a vessel obliged, it was a simple matter to attach a mine to the hull and detonate the explosive charge from a safe distance.