Through gaps in the mounds of clouds, Sam found the Thunderbird exactly where she was supposed to be. The panzer’s shadow bobbed and darted according to the vagaries of the terrain, sometimes racing ahead of the vehicle and sometimes falling behind as it negotiated the open badlands. The T-bird could make better speed, but it would mean traveling at a higher altitude that would invite an enemy’s missiles. Lacking the stealthy profile that allowed the Eagle to slip unnoticed through the skies, the mass of the panzer would almost inevitably register on radar if she flew above a certain height. Stealth was important as long as they were still within the boundaries of the Sioux Council.
Thoughts of missiles became immediate as Sam noted a second shadow rippling over the ground. This one was more slender and faster-moving. Its shape seemed to flicker and change more than could be accounted for by the terrain. The puzzle resolved when he realized that the shape casting this shadow had wings, which beat as it flew. Magnification confirmed the approaching object’s nature.
Sam’s extremities went cold, while at the same time sweat began to bead on his forehead. The second shadow belonged to a Dragon. Watching with increasing trepidation. Sam saw the dracoform pass over a buffalo herd, apparently without noticing the animals. For their part, the bison decided that they wanted urgently to be elsewhere. If the Dragon wasn’t hunting, what was it doing out here? Sam thought he knew the answer.
“T-bird,” he called as he activated the radio link, “you’ve got a Dragon on intercept vector. Two o’clock relative.”
“Say again. A what?”
“A Dragon.”
“Roger,” Begay responded calmly. The Thunderbird banked hard as the rigger spoke, changing its heading.
If the newcomer was headed in their direction, it would soon be obvious. Sam prayed hard, but the Dragon adjusted direction to maintain an intercept course. To Begay, he reported, “Still following.”
“Roger. It’ll get nasty, then. Flash me a terrain pic, then stay high and keep your eyes open. I need to know if anyone else is coming to play.”
Maybe Sam was being unduly worried. Begay seemed unperturbed by the Dragon, less excited than during the brush with the Sioux Wildcats. Maybe his confidence was based on knowing what to expect. If so, Sam wanted to give him as much time as possible. He quickly keyed the instructions to the Eagle’s computer, sending the terrain data downlink to appear on the panzer’s navigation screen. That would let Begay select the best available spot for the coming confrontation.
Begay knew his vehicle, its capabilities, and its limitations. Why shouldn’t he be confident? A Dragon was a mighty beast, but it was still an animal. What kind of animal was a match for even a light panzer like the Thunderbird? The beast would need composite armor like the T-bird’s own to resist the 20mm shells of the chain gun, let alone the heavy vehicle killers that the main cannon could spew. This would be a short fight.
From his conversations with Begay, Sam knew that the rigger would try to keep the conflict as brief as possible. Not only to keep from attracting other unwanted attention, but to keep from using too many expendables that would cut into his profit margin.
The panzer lifted out of the valley and passed over a ridge into another gully that stretched toward an open space surrounded by sentinel mesas. Rushing across the clearing and banking across the lower slope of one of the boundary formations, the Thunderbird kicked up pebbles and dust. On the flat again, she ran back toward the gully more slowly, her turret angled toward the Dragon’s approach.
The Thunderbird’s chain gun ripped up real estate where the Dragon had first showed its fanged head, but the beast put on a burst of speed just before it broke cover. The unscathed serpent swept in toward the panzer.
“Frag. that worm’s fast.” Begay commented in mild surprise as Sam watched the fiery line of tracers chase the erratically weaving shape.
The Dragon unleashed a burst of flame as it swerved past the Thunderbird, but the jet of fire impacted the ground in front of the panzer. Sage blackened and smoked. The Dragon seemed reluctant to stay and slug it out with the tank. Orange tracers chased it across the valley.
From his aerial perspective, Sam observed activity a few dozen meters in front of the panzer. The earth was mounding. and Sam’s first thought was that concealed enemy troops were breaking cover. The notion was soon dispelled when he saw the soil moving by itself. Rocks and pebbles rolled toward a central bulge that heaved itself up, making a wall across the panzer’s path. Before Sam could warn Begay, the Thunderbird plowed into the weird obstacle.
Deprived of the sound, Sam could only imagine the grating and pinging of the gravel on hull of the speeding panzer. He feared that the debris would clog or damage the cooling vents, a fear more than justified as metal shrapnel from the protective louvers exploded out from the sides of the T-bird. The panzer charged on another ten or twenty meters, but the gravel still swirled around it in an unabated storm. Fist-sized cobbles struck the vehicle, rebounded, then struck again like maddened bees defending a hive from an interloper. The slowing panzer was nearly lost to Sam’s sight in the swirling haze of sand and grit.
“How in bell do you fight dirt?”
Sam didn’t think that the question was meant for him. Besides, he had no idea. Then he noticed something. “The gravel cloud’s only five meters tall.”
“Right.” The rigger’s response was clipped, but Sam knew Begay had understood when the Thunderbird rose up on a column of superheated air, her main thrust directed straight down. Soil and rocks were kicked out and away, only to curve about and rejoin the agitated mass. At first, it seemed that the T-bird’s action only made things worse, for the gravel storm rose up along with the panzer. Then Sam saw that the malefic sediment was attenuating, being stretched as though it were somehow tied to the more placid earth. As the panzer reached ten meters, the surging mass fell back. Only fugitive pebbles and streams of sand cascaded from the now rapidly rising Thunderbird.
Then, sudden flame washed the belly of the panzer, taking the titanium compound of the already heated nozzles past its melting point. The Dragon had returned to attack from an unexpected angle. Its thrust directors warped and partially fused, the Thunderbird canted to port and lost height. Starboard thrust vents opened momentarily, increasing the panzer’s speed to the left before they closed as the force of the laboring turbines was redirected aft. With that, the fall became a swooping dive that the rigger could control. Black smoke boiled from the Thunderbird’s underside, but the chain gun whirled, sending avenging slugs toward the Dragon. The beast ducked out of sight.
The Thunderbird’s flight was wobbly. When she plowed a furrow through a thin ridge and slumped down the far side, the panzer slewed drunkenly to a halt. Sam was impressed with Begay’s skill in managing to reach a thrust balance that had kept the panzer aloft.
“Where is it? Where is it?” Begay’s voice howled through the speaker.