The Judas Solution

  "They're called burn pellets," Lathe told him. "Jellied aviation fuel inside a thin and highly flammable shell. Once the snipers had fried that fence post, they could lob over enough of them to make a pile against each of the bunkers' bases."

  "And now if the gunners try sticking their lasers out the firing slits they'll get their faces burned off?" Judas suggested.

  "Something like that," Lathe said, digging again for his tingler. Lathe: flame on. "And whether they stick their noses out or not, it's going to be getting very hot in there."

  Acknowledged, Judas's tingler signaled. All blackcollars, deploy around Point One.

  "And you had all this set up two days ago?" Judas asked.

  "First rule of magic, kiddo," Spadafora said. "When the magician says 'Watch very closely,' the trick's already been done."

  "Exactly," Lathe agreed, and Judas could hear the tight smile in his voice. "Here we go, Caine. And watch very closely."

  * * *

  The quiet intensity in the monitor room had dissolved into barely controlled chaos. Taakh strode back and forth behind the techs, barking orders and commands and demands as warning lights and displays began flashing all across the boards. "What the hell is happening out there?" Haberdae gritted.

  "I don't know," Galway said, studying the flashing orange lights on the status displays. "It almost looks like there are fires in some of the guard bunkers."

  "The 'lackcollars are shooting intae the 'unkers," Taakh said, his voice tight. "They seek tae silence the gunners there."

  He had barely finished when a new pair of orange lights, much larger than the other indicators, began flashing on either side of the western door. Taakh barked a taut question; was barked an equally taut answer. "They ha' set 'ires 'eneath the guard 'unkers at the restern entrance," he bit out. "They had no 'uel or extra ex'losi'es. How did they dae this?"

  "I don't know," Galway said. "We'll have to ask Judas when it's all over."

  "Rhy did he not already tell us?" the khassq demanded.

  "I don't know that, either." Galway studied Taakh's face, a sudden revelation striking him. "You never really believed they could get in here, did you, Your Eminence?"

  "Rhat I 'elie'e is not in'ortant," Taakh ground out. "And they rill not 'enetrate this tactical center."

  Despite the danger, Galway had to smile. The goal of the mission had abruptly run squarely into Taakh's personal pride, and the khassq wasn't at all happy about it. "If they don't, then it'll all have been for nothing," he again reminded the Ryq. "And not just into the building—they have to penetrate all the way to the core. Otherwise when your warriors get into Daeliak-naa they may find themselves stopped by the Chryselli's interior defenses with no idea how to get through."

  "And if those guards in the western bunkers get burned out, the blackcollars will have a clear shot at that door," Haberdae put in, an edge of nervous impatience in his voice.

  "So it rould seen," Taakh said, his dark eyes flicking to the status boards and then back to Galway. "Yaer s'y has said nothing a'out this, either."

  "No, he hasn't," Galway said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "My guess is that at the last minute Shaw took over planning and froze Judas out."

  "Shouldn't we be getting warriors into position in the western entrance foyer?" Haberdae put in, his impatience taking on an edge of urgency. "They could be stacking explosives against the door right now for all we know."

  "I dae not 'elie'e it is that sin'le," Taakh said, gazing hard at the displays, most of which still showed little more than fuzzy images. "There is sone trick."

  "I think you're right, Your Eminence," Galway said, moving beside him and studying the displays. "Setting big, ostentations fires outside the western bunkers is exactly the sort of thing they'd do to try and draw our attention that direction."

  "'Or rhat 'ur'ose?" Taakh demanded.

  "Something clever, no doubt," Galway said slowly, turning to the tactical schematic with its multitude of flashing orange lights. "I also noticed that when they were throwing their dummies across the fence, all but one of them was sent straight over. Only this one—" he pointed to a spot just east of the southern road "—was thrown in at an angle."

  "And it was thrown farther in than the others," Haberdae murmured.

  "Yes," Galway said. "And unless I'm remembering the schematics incorrectly, it landed right over the tunnel that leads out to the southern guard bunkers."

  "And its explosion has now torn up the ground there," Haberdae said, his uneasiness vanishing into cautious excitement as he caught Galway's line of reasoning. "You think they're going to try to blast their way in through the tunnels?"

  "I don't think we'd better give them the chance to find out," Galway said. "Your Eminence, I expect you want to keep the warriors inside where it's safe—"

  "Ryqril rarriors dae not stay rhere it is sa'," Taakh cut him off sharply. "Re rill take the 'attle tae they."

  "Do you think that's wise, Your Eminence?" Haberdae asked. "Couldn't you just set up something right at the tunnel entrance?"

  "Prefect Haberdae is right, Your Eminence," Galway seconded. "In all that smoke the blackcollars are going to have the advantage, certainly over ordinary Ryqril warriors."

  "No run has the ad'antage o'er Ryqril rarriors," Taakh snapped.

  "I understand that," Galway hastened to assure him. "But I've seen blackcollars in action. It would take a battalion of khassq-class warriors to stop them."

  Taakh drew himself up to his full height. "It rill not take a 'attalion o' khassq," he said, his voice all but ringing with pride. "It rill take only run. I rill lead they."

  "You're going to go out there and leave us?" Galway asked, his eyes flicking to Haberdae. "But what happens if some of them get inside?"

  "They rill not," Taakh said firmly.

  "No, of course they won't," Galway said. "But if they do, we'll have no way to protect ourselves. If you could leave us a couple of warriors, maybe ones you don't think can handle blackcollars anyway—"

  "Enou'!" Taakh barked. Snatching out his laser, he thrust it into Galway's hands. "There. Yae rill now dekhend." Barking a final order at the techs, he strode from the room.

  "Feel safer now?" Haberdae asked sarcastically.

  Galway hefted the laser in his hands. "A little, yes," he said. "He couldn't have used it out there anyway. Not in all that smoke."

  "No, of course not," Haberdae said, heading for the door. "You just go ahead and play soldier. I'll be right back."

  "Where are you going?" Galway asked, frowning.

  Haberdae sent a tight smile over his shoulder. "To help you feel even safer."

  * * *

  Ten Ryqril advancing from east door; turning south toward Point One, the terse report came from one of the comsquares on the eastern side of the Khorstron grounds.

  Eight Ryqril advancing from south door, another comsquare added. Second group, silent: six Ryqril.

  Acknowledged, Shaw's reply came. All blackcollars defend. Lathe—go.

  "And here we go," Lathe muttered, getting a grip on Judas's arm and pulling him toward the blazing fires. "Shields ready."

  "We're heading to the bunkers?" Judas asked as he fumbled his shield into position on his arm. "Shaw said the Ryqril were heading south."

  "Because that's where they think the main attack is coming," Lathe said. "Shaw's made it look like—hsss!"

  He yanked Judas down into a crouch, the other blackcollars dropping down beside them. There they all squatted, motionless, while around them the shadowy figures of a Ryqril warrior squad hurried past through the smoke. The sound of their footsteps faded away, and Lathe pulled Judas back to his feet.

  The fires were still blazing when they reached the nearer of the bunkers. Even as the structures themselves began to appear through the smoke Judas heard the twang and muffled cracks as Spadafora began to lob primer caps through the firing slits. "Breaking into the bunker won't do us any good, you know," he warned as they continued forward. "
The door leading from it into the tac center is just as strong as the main ones."

  "True," Lathe said. "But only if—watch it."

  He snapped his shield up as a laser poked through the slit and a green bolt shot through the writhing flames. The shot hit the shield dead center, and Judas heard the crackle of heat stress as some of the metal and ablative material burned away.

  The gunner never got a second shot. Spadafora's slingshot snapped again, and through the flames Judas saw a tiny explosion inside the bunker directly behind the muzzle. The weapon tilted sharply upward and slid back out of sight.

  And then, deep in the bunker's darkness, Judas saw a faint glow suddenly appear.

  "It's open!" Lathe snapped. "Mordecai?"

  "Got it," Mordecai said. He stepped through the flames right up to the side of the bunker, his shield with its trailing heat-sink metal ribbon gripped horizontally in his hands. Slipping the edge of the shield into the firing slit, he ducked his head and peered around its side into the interior. Then, with a precise, sharp movement, he shoved the shield into the bunker.

  "Half a meter back," Spadafora said, also ignoring the flames as he peered through the slit on the bunker's other side.

  "Half a meter back," Mordecai repeated, taking hold of the end of the metal ribbon now trailing out the slit. Carefully, he pulled a half meter of it back toward him.

  "That's it," Spadafora said. Stepping back away from the fire, he raised his slingshot, crouching a little as he continued to peer into the bunker.

  "Let's move it," Lathe said. He had pulled a soft-looking pouch from his pack and was busily stuffing it into one end of Spadafora's firing slit. "Caine, you want a look?"

  "Already figured this one out, thanks," Judas assured him as he nevertheless stooped for a quick look. Between the fire and the primer caps, the blackcollars had succeeded in driving the Ryqril gunners in from their bunker ... and when they'd opened their door to retreat, Mordecai had shoved his shield in across the floor to block it open.

  Sure enough, through the smoke he could see the half-open door and the ready room beyond it. A couple of Ryqril were also visible, frantically working at a small control box on the wall just inside the door. Spadafora's slingshot snapped, and the aliens shied back as the box exploded in a shower of sparks.

  "I got the controls," Spadafora reported, returning the slingshot to his belt and pulling out a soft pouch of his own.

  "There'll be a backup system," Judas warned as he stepped back out of the flames.

  "Right, but now they'll have to go and find it," Lathe pointed out as he pulled a small igniter from his belt and flipped it open. "By the time they do, we'll hopefully be inside. Spadafora?"

  "Clear," Spadafora said, stepping back from the bunker.

  "Clear," Mordecai added, his nunchaku ready in his hand.

  "Clear, and fire," Lathe said. Turning half away, he squeezed the igniter.

  There were a pair of muffled explosions; and the entire front of the bunker shattered and collapsed into the flames. Mordecai was through the gaping hole even before the wall had finished coming down, darting across the bunker and ducking through the half-open door into the ready room. Lathe was right behind him, half pulling Judas along.

  There was, as it turned out, no need for haste. By the time Judas squeezed through the door, the fight was already over.

  "Hell," he murmured, looking around at the five crumpled Ryqril bodies sprawled on the ready room floor. Mordecai, standing over them with his nunchaku cocked under his arm, wasn't even breathing hard.

  "Very much so," Lathe agreed. "Anyone get out?"

  Mordecai shook his head. "Sounds like most of them are waiting for us outside the mantrap foyer," he said. "I guess they were expecting us to come in the front door."

  "We'd better clear them out," Lathe decided. "We don't want to leave them at our back while we're trying to get into the monitor room."

  Judas felt his chest tighten. Galway, Haberdae, and Taakh were supposed to be watching the operation from the monitor room. "I thought we were going to the main core," he said.

  "We'll get there soon enough," Lathe assured him. "But first things first. Let's go clear out the backtrail."

  * * *

  Behind Galway, the door slid open. He spun around, tensing; but it was only Haberdae. "Where have you been?" he demanded as the door slid shut again. "There's some kind of alarm going off."

  "I know," Haberdae said calmly, glancing up at the silently flashing warning lights as he crossed the room. "From the commotion down the western corridor, I'd say your blackcollars have entered the building."

  Galway glanced at the displays, most of them still showing nothing but static. "Did you see them?"

  "Fortunately, that wasn't the direction I was coming from," Haberdae said. Leaning over one of the techs, he flipped up an orange safety cover and turned a knob over. "I was down near the south door, talking with Taakh."

  "About what?" Galway asked, frowning at the knob Haberdae had just turned. "What did you just do?"

  "Like I said, I'm making us all safer," Haberdae said. "Taakh and I had a quick discussion while he was getting his warriors ready, and we agreed that letting Lathe find a way into the building was all we really needed. We don't actually need him to get all the way to the core."

  Abruptly, his face hardened. "Did you really think this was your ticket to fame and fortune?" he bit out. "Hitching your future to a group of blackcollars?"

  Galway's throat felt suddenly tight. "Prefect, what did you do?" he asked carefully.

  "You're a very little man, Galway, from a very little world," Haberdae went on, ignoring the question. "How you sold the Ryqril on this piece of froth I'll never know. But the only thing it's going to get you is a one-way ticket back to your private dirtball."

  "What did you do?" Galway demanded.

  "I activated the autotarget defense lasers in the corridor out there," Haberdae said, waving behind him. "Your buddy Lathe gets five meters from that door and he's a cinder. Oh, put that down—we both know you can't use it on me."

  Galway hadn't even realized he'd lifted Taakh's laser into firing position. "Taakh agreed to let them get to the core," he said, lowering the laser.

  "And now he's changed his mind," Haberdae said. "He's a khassq, remember? He has the authority to change or modify general orders when circumstances require."

  Galway felt his stomach tighten. "So that's why you supported me last night when I asked Taakh to let me be here today."

  Haberdae shrugged. "I thought that in the heat of combat it might be easier to get him to see things my way."

  "Your way being a little private vengeance?"

  "Private?" Haberdae shook his head. "Hardly. These blackcollars aren't some advanced weapons system for us to use, something you can simply point and shoot. They're unpredictable, they're damned dangerous, and the sooner they're eliminated the better it'll be for the Ryqril and everyone else in the universe."

  "They're a valuable resource," Galway insisted. "Haven't you been paying attention? I've proved I can maneuver Lathe into doing a job without him ever knowing he's actually working for the Ryqril. If you and Taakh get him killed, any chance of doing that again will be gone."

  "There are other blackcollars around the TDE," Haberdae said. "I'm sure the high command can find someone else for you to play your mind games with if they really want to continue this insanity."

  "But Lathe's the best."

  Haberdae's face settled into a mask. "He made me look bad, Galway," he ground out. "In front of my men, and in front of the Ryqril. No one does that and gets away with it. No one."

  "Prefect—"

  "And don't even think about going near that control," Haberdae added. "I have direct orders from the ranking Ryq warrior on the scene. I can flatten you if you try to go against me."

  Stepping to the monitor board, he snagged a spare chair and pulled it to a spot behind the row of techs. "Relax, Galway—your blackcollars are coming
." He smiled tightly. "Let's enjoy the show."

  CHAPTER 19

  The passage through the tunnel had been tricky enough when Foxleigh's hands had been available to help protect him from the multitude of protrusions that reached out toward head and feet and hips. This time, with his hands tied together, was far worse. He'd made it only halfway through, and had already given up trying to count the bruises he'd collected, when he heard the sounds of footsteps ahead.

  He froze, holding his breath as he listened. It was footsteps, all right. At least a half-dozen sets of them, possibly more.