Gridlinked

‘Where are you, Cento? Aiden?’

  ‘Moving clear,’ they replied simultaneously.

  Then Aiden said, ‘There’s one to the left of the carrier operating a mortar. Can’t get a clear shot from here.’

  ‘Got him,’ replied Thorn.

  There was a purple flash and loud crack. A white explosion split in two a tree with a trunk a metre thick. Subliminally Cormac saw something, which might have been a man, blacken, disappear.

  ‘There’s one just beyond that burning tent—no, the dracoman’s on him.’

  The scream was horrible. Cormac saw two shadows grappling. One shadow folded the other to the ground. He was sure he could hear bones breaking.

  ‘Only one left, I take it,’ said Cormac acidly.

  ‘Up and running,’ said Aiden. ‘Dracoman’s after him. You want me to get him?’

  ‘Leave it,’ said Cormac, and let out a tight breath. He looked over the wall at the spirals of smoke. Over to his right someone was talking in a low monotone. To his left there was a sudden stuttering of pulse-gun fire. He swore and dropped back down.

  ‘I said leave it,’ he said into his comunit.

  ‘Something in the trees,’ came Goff’s reply.

  ‘Aiden, you getting anything?’

  ‘Nothing now, but there was a trace just then. Moved too fast to be a bird,’ the Golem replied.

  ‘Surveillance drone?’

  ‘Possible.’

  ‘Any other traces?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  On that last word the second dracoman released Cormac’s arm. He pulled away, dropped his comunit in his top pocket, and then turned on the dracoman.

  ‘Do that again and I cut your fucking hand off,’ he said.

  The dracoman showed its teeth. It could have been a smile.

  Cormac left it and went to find out who had died.

  * * *

  Two of the regulars were dead. Seeker bullets had ripped through their body armour and the pressure vessels they contained had exploded with messy results. Cormac was told one of them was the soldier Cheng. Cormac had what remained of the men scooped up and put in body-bags, then shallow-buried at the perimeter of the camp. The three recoverable bodies—the men the dracoman had killed—were brought in and laid out. Cormac recognized none of them. He turned to Stanton, just behind whom stood Thorn and Sergeant Arn.

  ‘Locally hired,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, but Pelter has four you know with him,’ Stanton replied.

  Cormac looked at him questioningly.

  Stanton went on. ‘Corlackis and his brother, Svent and Dusache.’

  ‘When will they come in? Soon?’

  ‘No, Pelter won’t want it over that quickly.’

  Cormac nodded, then looked at the sergeant. ‘Take him into the carrier, strip-search him, then tie him up.’

  The sergeant obeyed with a kind of grim relish. Cormac wondered if he expected entertainment in repayment for the deaths of his two men. He would be disappointed. He noticed that Stanton went without protest. The man seemed broken, grieving. He’d have to get the full story from him later. Right now he wanted everything organized, precise. Much as he was inclined to believe what Stanton had told him, he still was not prepared to relax defences here. With Thorn at his back he walked towards Aiden, who was crouching by the wreckage of what had been a tree before Thorn’s attentions.

  ‘That dracoman back yet?’ he asked.

  Aiden glanced up and said, ‘No, but we have an AGC coming in directly.’

  ‘Scatter!’

  The men ran for cover. Cormac turned to Thorn. ‘Get in the carrier. If it fires on us, use the turret weapons.’

  Thorn nodded and ran for the carrier. Cormac watched the Sparkind leap Stanton, who was now face-down on the ground, with Arn tying his wrist behind him. That was covered, then. Cormac jogged over to Aiden, thinking to take cover behind the wrecked branches of the tree. The familiar pad of feet behind him abrogated that intention for the moment. He turned and drew his shuriken as the remaining dracoman came trotting in.

  The dracoman halted.

  ‘One step closer. Go on—just one.’

  The dracoman seemed to find this amusing, then boring. It looked up at the sky for a moment, then turned and trotted away. Cormac ran for the tree and dived down beside Aiden. He looked about and saw that everyone else was concealed.

  ‘The AGC is coming right in,’ said Aiden.

  Cormac looked up into the red night and saw that the car had its running lights on. It was an Aston Martin replica, but with its underside constructed like the hull of a speedboat. Whoever was driving it seemed to be having some problem with the controls. It swayed to a halt above the camp, then slowly started to descend. That descent speeded at the last moment and it slammed down in the middle of the camp. Cormac had shuriken in his hand, even though he knew that plenty of other weapons were pointed at the AGC. The door clicked open and the missing dracoman stepped out. Cormac swore, stood up and walked over to it. Had the other one known?

  As he drew close, Cormac saw blood on the inside of the car’s windows. A glance inside revealed to him a body slumped in the back seat with its head nearly ripped off. He went closer and saw it was a woman, a great mass of tangled hair spread about her, soaking up the blood. It was no one he recognized. She had to be the one that escaped. He would have to ask Stanton. He turned to the dracoman.

  ‘We could call him Scar now,’ said Thorn, from behind him.

  Cormac studied the dracoman’s face and saw it had been opened from one nostril to just underneath its eye. Its blood was the colour and consistency of mustard.

  ‘And what do we call the other one?’ asked Cormac.

  ‘Nonscar?’

  ‘Yeah, good. Now let’s get this mess cleared up and a rota set up,’ he said. He looked up at the sky. ‘How long till dawn?’

  ‘Ten hours, solstan,’ Thorn replied.

  ‘We’ll sleep in groups of four in the carrier. Let the ES ones go first. We shouldn’t be any less secure than we were. Oh, I want someone at that turret gun at all times.’

  It took an hour to clear the camp and set up further covert defences. Aiden and Cento acted as guards, since they needed no sleep.

  * * *

  ‘We’ll need to take out that turret gun. When he finds out you’re not amongst the dead, he’ll know it was just a probe. There won’t be a trap next time,’ said Corlackis.

  ‘Of course,’ said Pelter, his eyes still glued to the screen stuck to the framework of the missile launcher.

  ‘So really it’s just that and the two Golem.’

  Pelter glanced aside and waved to Svent to take them down. Svent nodded, and fiddled with the old guide-ball control of the transporter. Slowly it started to drop down into the trees. In the shadow the thick photoactive paint on it slowly changed from a deep red to greenish black. Corlackis tapped at the controls on the miniconsole he was holding, then dropped it into his pocket.

  ‘What about those two lizard men?’ asked Dusache.

  ‘Don’t concern yourself,’ said Pelter. ‘You’ll be on this platform operating the launcher. You take out the carrier. Myself, Mr. Crane, Mennecken and Corlackis will be going in on the ground.’

  ‘Crane will be able to handle the Golem?’ Corlackis asked.

  ‘He will handle them,’ said Pelter. ‘Remember that arrogant bitch on Huma? No, we go in and we flatten them. Of course none of you hits Cormac—not even by accident. He is mine.’

  Branches broke and flicked round the transporter, and large leaves spiralled down with it. Svent landed it by the private AGC that was already on the ground.

  ‘When do we hit them?’ Mennecken asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ said Pelter, then looked up as four objects settled through the trees. In the dim light they were difficult to see until very close. When visible, they had the appearance of small birds of transparent film stretched over black bones. They came in to land in a neat row on the launcher, where they closed their wi
ngs and became featureless ovoids. Corlackis took up a metal box from the deck and carefully placed each of the surveillance drones in its respective compartment. As an afterthought he took the miniconsole from his pocket and placed it in its compartment as well.

  * * *

  The sky was a kind of muddy-brown just before sunrise. Cormac would not have seen it, as he had been deeply asleep. But Aiden shook him awake.

  ‘Another AGC coming directly here. Cento is rousing the others.’

  Cormac rubbed sleep from his eyes. ‘What’s going on, they relocated the AGC park?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Never mind.’

  Cormac sat upright and looked around. Thorn was already at the door of the carrier, his weapon resting on his shoulder. The sergeant and one of the two men were putting on their boots. Lying with his cuffed wrists secured to a steadying handle above one of the bunks, Stanton watched with disinterest. Cormac slid from his bed fully dressed. It was not the first time he had slept in body-armour.

  ‘How far?’ he asked.

  ‘Ten minutes away.’

  Cormac turned to Stanton. ‘Pelter?’

  Stanton shrugged. ‘Could be, but I doubt it. He’ll want you to sweat for a while.’

  Cormac snorted and turned away. ‘Who’s on the turret gun? . . . Never mind. Sergeant, no firing unless fired on. Thorn, Aiden, with me.’

  The sergeant began speaking into his comunit as the three headed for the door. Above, they heard the drone of hydraulics as the turret gun swung round. Outside, Cormac saw that the men were dispersed around the camp with their weapons trained on the sky. Once again an AGC came in with its lights on and landed in the middle of the camp. Cormac immediately recognized the diminutive figure that stepped out, and advanced from cover with a smile on his face. Taking their cue from him, the other men did the same.

  ‘All this fuss over me,’ said Mika as she lifted a case from the AGC. ‘I could get to like it.’

  It was the first time Cormac had heard her be coquettish. It seemed very unlike her. He had imagined her as being more direct.

  ‘It’s good to see you, but why are you here?’ asked Cormac.

  ‘They’re refitting the Hubris. It’s like a madhouse there. I asked Blegg if I could come to follow up on some studies.’ She looked pointedly at the dracomen as they came from the trees to squat by the carrier.

  ‘He’s still there then—Blegg?’

  ‘Yes, and managing to annoy everyone with the minimum effort.’

  They walked towards the carrier.

  Mika went on. ‘I also thought you might need a medic, if you haven’t got one . . .’

  ‘A couple of the men are trained, Thorn as well. There was an attack last night, but most injuries have been tended to.’

  ‘Attack. Presumably not the Maker?’

  ‘A Separatist group.’

  Mika nodded. ‘I see one injury that hasn’t been tended to,’ she said. She gestured to the dracoman now called Scar.

  Cormac could not think of a reply. Just then one of the regulars came running across.

  ‘Sir! Sir! Something took one of the bodies in the night.’

  Mika looked at Cormac, and Cormac looked at Mika. They both looked at the dracomen.

  ‘Probably an animal. We should have buried them,’ Cormac told the man.

  ‘Shall we bury them, sir?’

  ‘If you like.’

  The regular departed.

  ‘You could have at least fed them,’ said Mika accusingly, and then walked over to the wounded dracoman. Cormac watched her go, a slight smile twisting his features, and then he frowned and headed back for the carrier. Once inside he called to the soldier at the gun.

  ‘You, go outside for a moment, please,’ he said.

  The soldier climbed down from the control seat, saluted, and quickly went on his way. Cormac dropped down on the bunk opposite Stanton.

  ‘You were right,’ he said.

  Stanton just stared back at him.

  Cormac went on. ‘How long do you think Pelter will . . . let me sweat?’

  ‘The longer he leaves it, the more it will work for him. Your men will be tired, less alert. But he does want to kill you rather badly. I’d say two days at most.’

  ‘Now tell me why I should believe you.’

  Stanton looked down at the floor for a long moment before replying. ‘Pelter has a large quantity of money with him. I intended to relieve him of it once I found a way round Crane.’

  ‘Crane?’

  ‘Mr. Crane. The broken Golem. Watch out for him. He was a Twenty-five, and now he’s armoured and very tough. You wouldn’t believe what he’s capable of.’

  ‘I would,’ said Cormac. ‘I have two Golem Thirties with me.’

  Stanton stared for a long moment, then a slow smile broke out on his face. ‘Won’t Pelter be surprised,’ he said.

  ‘Tell me about this money. That’s not like you, John. You’ve had ample opportunity to rip Pelter off.’

  ‘That’s what Jarvellis said.’

  ‘Jarvellis?’

  Stanton told him, and Cormac made his decision. He couldn’t wait for Pelter. He needed to resolve some things now before Dragon got impatient and threw a tantrum that many of those on Samarkand might not survive. He took up the two Enropower boxes from under one of the bunks, and then left Stanton where he was. Outside the carrier he turned to the soldier.

  ‘Get back on that gun. The call I’m just about to put out does not apply to you.’

  The man nodded and quickly ducked back inside the carrier. Cormac tucked one of the boxes under his arm and pulled his comunit.

  ‘I want all of you into the camp right now,’ he said, and then walked to where Mika was working on Scar. He saw that she had been forced to use wire to pull together the rent in Scar’s tough hide. The dracoman seemed unconcerned. Cormac wondered if an anaesthetic had been used, if one had even been needed. He dropped the two boxes at his feet and looked around as they all came in.

  Thorn, Aiden and Cento were the first to join him, all three of them carrying energy weapons, then the sergeant with his six remaining men. When they were all gathered round, Cormac studied them for a moment before speaking.

  ‘Right. There’s another group out there who may attack. We stay here and they can come in at their leisure. I know their leader, Arian Pelter, and am certain that any plans he’s formulating revolve around an attack on us on the ground. Especially as those plans will be dependent on the broken Golem he has with him, one Mr. Crane.’ He shot a look at Aiden and Cento, but could discern no reaction. ‘I’m not prepared to wait for that attack. I came here to do a job, and I’m going to do it. Sergeant, I want you and your men up as spotters and as a first line. I want you, with another man on the turret guns, to take up the carrier and circle the perimeter of the ruins. The rest of your men will operate outside that perimeter, as before. If it looks like anyone is coming in, you inform me immediately and then we form our response to the nature of the attack. This is where Pelter falls down: he can’t do that. He’s ruthless, but stubborn to the point of idiocy. He’ll stick with a plan to the end. We—’ Cormac gestured to Cento, Aiden and Thorn, ‘—will be going in on sky-bikes. If we come out in a hurry you get to the ground and under cover. Your main concern then will be self-preservation. Any questions?’

  The sergeant shook his head.

  ‘Very well, get going.’

  ‘You want me out of the way,’ said Mika.

  Cormac nodded and turned his attention to the dracomen. ‘Dragon wanted you here. You have been useful, but I cannot see what purpose you might serve now. Do you have any suggestions?’

  The dracomen stared at him in silence.

  ‘Very well, Mika, take them with you and stay with that AGC. If we run, be ready to come with us back to the runcible. Let’s go.’

  The men broke and headed off into the surrounding trees. Cormac stooped down and picked up the two boxes at his feet. By then the sergeant was
already in the carrier. There was a low thrum of AG and a backwash of dust as he took it into the sky. Five sky-bikes followed him up. Cormac gestured to the three with him and walked over to the two remaining sky-bikes.

  ‘There been any movement in the ruins?’ he asked.

  Aiden replied, ‘No movement, but the Maker is certainly in one of the underground silos. Viridian reported a change in energy levels last night during the attack, but that was all.’

  ‘OK, we’ll land as close as we can get and go in on foot. I want some idea of what we’re dealing with. That at least.’

  ‘We’re dealing with the thing that killed Gant,’ said Thorn.

  Cormac studied him speculatively before going on. ‘We’re still operating on the premise that what Dragon told us is true. I don’t like that, but those are my instructions. We’ll try the proton guns first. I don’t want to be responsible for levelling a heritage site just yet.’ He glanced at Cento and Aiden. ‘You two can fly them. Thorn and I will go pillion. If there’s any kind of attack, take us down into the forest on the other side.’

  The two Golem mounted the sky-bikes. Cormac placed the two boxes in a pannier before mounting up behind Cento. As Cento lifted the bike into the sky behind Aiden and Thorn, Cormac wondered at the Golem’s lack of comment.

  ‘Do you have a problem with what I’m doing?’ he asked.

  ‘I have no problem. The mission is paramount and you cannot wait for an attack that may or may not come.’

  ‘Then it’s the broken Golem, isn’t it?’

  Cento took a moment to reply. When he did reply his voice was flat and characterless.

  ‘If there is a hell for us, then that is where this Mr. Crane is.’

  26

  I have to state categorically that I believe in him. The Quince Guide (which I do not believe was compiled by humans; more likely it was compiled to mislead humans) has it that he is a mythical character comparable to Robin Hood or King Arthur. Let’s look at the legend. He is supposed to be immortal, and supposed to possess powers the like of which enabled him to survive the destruction of his home city of Hiroshima. He is supposed to have meddled with human destiny, and to still be meddling . . . Oh hell, I’m rambling. The plain truth of the matter is that I believe in him because of his name. For Chrissake, what myth-maker worth his salt would come up with such a ridiculous name for someone who is practically a demigod? Horace Blegg, I ask you . . .