However . . . these Posleen were acting like humans. They seemed to be thinking about the possible actions of their quarry and reacting in a reasonable manner. Which meant that they would be expecting the team to either cross the bridges or the lakes heading more or less directly towards the lines. They might or might not know that the latter would be virtually impossible.
If they could break through the lines to the west, then break contact, two very big ifs, they could make their way towards the lines around Tray Mountain. That was a wilderness area and the roads were few and far between, making it much better from their perspective.
But getting there would be a long damned walk with, apparently, damned little support. The artillery, though, what there was of it, would be able to cover them the whole way. The important point would be to make sure they didn't get spotted by where the artillery was firing.
He chuckled silently. This was almost as bad as fighting humans.
* * *
"There is a reason that fighting humans is so hard," Orostan mused. "They apparently have been warring amongst themselves, and surviving at it, for their entire history. Their legion of dirty tricks comes from those millennia of experience. We Posleen, on the other hand, have either fought those with no experience of war, or fought the ornaldath. And the ornaldath has always lasted for such a short period of time, and been so chaotic, that little can be learned."
"With humans, every day is ornaldath," Cholosta'an muttered bitterly. "They . . . cheat."
"Yes," Orostan admitted in an amused tone. "But it is not ornaldath. They do not use the greatest weapons, much. Tulo'stenaloor's . . . 'intelligence' people have learned that they have a great reluctance to use those that are not chemical, those that use fusion and antimatter for their propellants. So it is not, by any stretch of the imagination, ornaldath. Except when you corner them. And then, sometimes, they use those weapons. Rarely."
"They are not cornered now?" Cholosta'an asked. "They are only a bit of one continent. The ones that are to the north have no materials to fight with and other than this remnant it is all tribes scattered in the mountains. Except for this remnant, they are broken. Isn't that the point of gathering this host?"
"Don't count the humans out until the last one is dead and you have hacked its body to bits and eaten it," the oolt'ondai cautioned. "Many of them got off the planet before we landed and those 'scattered tribes' are still strong enough to be a challenge in many areas. We have taken the bulk of the planet for our lands, and the bulk of the human population for our feed, but their fleet rebuilds and rebuilds seemingly endlessly. And these humans, these 'trapped abat' are no joke. Every day they find new ways to confound us."
As if on cue the sky began to scream.
* * *
"Splash out," Mosovich said, listening to the firecracker rattle of ICM landing in the distance. The team had moved down the mountainside, using every bit of concealment, until it was within two hundred yards of Oakey Mountain Road. The biggest worry were the God Kings scattered among the normals. It was hard, in the heavy foliage, to spot the occasional passing saucer, but whenever one came in view the team went to ground and held their breath in anticipation. But, so far, so good.
Now, with the firing behind them, if the Posleen stayed true to their current form they should hurry towards the bridge in anticipation of the team's movements.
And that did appear to be happening. The normals in view, almost immediately after the artillery began to land, began to stream to the north. With any luck in a few more minutes there would be enough of a reduction the team could consider trying the road.
They were on a ridgeline perpendicular to the road, bedded down in a thick stand of white pine saplings. At the point they would be crossing the road it went through a small saddle and there was a hilltop on the far side. There had been a house or small farm to the right of the saddle in bygone days, but now all there was, was another weed-covered field and the overgrown right-of-way. The open area was small, as well, no more than fifty meters including the torn up grassy track that had been Oakey Mountain Road.
On the far side of the hill that was their objective the ground fell off down a steep slope to the Soque River. Although that would normally be a tough crossing, the area was densely grown and there was small chance the horselike Posleen could keep up with the team in there. They would have to cross Highway 197, but unless the Posleen were patrolling everywhere, any movement over there should be slight. And, again, the ground should be overgrown enough to permit them to slip past any patrols.
From the crossing of the Soque they would swing west of Batesville. If they weren't spotted on their crossing, corps would maintain harassing fire on the Posleen in regular spots near the Talullah. With luck, it would be some time before the Posleen commander discovered that they had slipped out of the trap. By that time they should be well outside the main search area.
If. With luck.
In a remarkably short time the masses of Posleen that had been in the area were gone. The road was empty and still in the pre-dawn night.
"Time to move out," Mosovich whispered. Steep slope again. Time to slide.
* * *
"Well, at least it is falling on others," Cholosta'an observed. The tenar's sensors were set to replicate the activity on the far side of the mountain.
The town of Seed had often been described as not much more than a stop sign; it really it wasn't even that. The "main" road was Oakey Mountain, a two lane winding bit of nothingness going from nowhere to nowhere in the hills. And there wasn't even a stop sign on it, let alone a convenience store. The other road was Gap Road, a macadam track going over the mountains to Lake Seed.
And it was less now. Where before there had been a few houses now there were only weedy fields, scrub and the occasional shallow crater that indicated a home with a "Scorched Earth" home defense system.
Currently the fields were covered with the oolt'ondar of Orostan and the many additional newcomer oolt attached to it. This force had been primarily responsible for patrolling Low Gap Road. Orostan had ordered in road construction materials and the track over the mountains was in the process of being graded for the first time since the initial invasion. But most of his force was now consolidated at Seed in case the humans broke in another direction. As opposed to the forces over by the lake that were closing in, presumably closing in, on the human team. And it was clear that these latter were getting hammered.
"Yes," Orostan said. "And Lardola is being conservative. Most of the loss has been among the new forces. And especially among those marked as the least favorable."
"I'm glad I wasn't marked as 'unfavorable,' " the younger Kessentai commented sourly.
"No, you weren't," the oolt'ondai agreed. "Or you'd probably be in there getting turned into thresh." His communicator chimed and he touched one of the glowing dots, receiving the call.
"Orostan, this is Tulo. The humans appear to have tricked us; they are attempting to break to the west. Again, they are preparing to cross the road on the western side. The patrols over there have scattered and headed for the firing. Cut the humans off if you can get there in time, pursue them if not." A holo map blossomed over the older Kessentai's tenar showing the relative position of the human team and the Posleen force.