Andromeda's War (Legion of the Damned Book 3) (19 page)

So everything was looking good until something landed on McKee’s back, sank its claws into her flesh, and screeched in her ear. It wasn’t that heavy but she could feel it nudging her helmet, looking for a way in. So she let the AXE dangle in order to reach back and grab the creature. Her reward was a painful bite. And when McKee brought her hand back it was bleeding from two tiny puncture wounds. Poison? She hoped not as she made a grab for the pistol. It was holstered on the left side of her combat vest. After pulling the weapon free, she pointed the barrel back over her right shoulder and pulled the trigger. Whatever the thing was made a screeching sound and fell away as Bartov tripped on a thick root and fell forward.

The T-1 took McKee down with him. They hit hard, and her visor bounced off the back of Bartov’s head. Fortunately, the helmet protected her from injury so that McKee could hit the harness release and roll free. The cyborg was still struggling to stand when the Paguumis emerged from the brush. Rather than let the aliens run them to death, they were going to fight.

McKee heard the reports and saw a geyser of dirt jump up in front of her as the warriors fired. The AXE seemed to fire itself in short, efficient bursts. Two indigs were dead by the time Bartov killed the third. And that’s where she was, swaying slightly on her feet, as Major Remy appeared. McKee was about to greet him when she fainted.

—

Prince Nicolai was crying—and Avery didn’t know what to do. Days had passed since the attack on the wreck, the desperate escape in the pod, and the hard landing that followed. Fortunately, the sphere-shaped container had been thrown well clear of the animals used to overrun the crash site. Then the pod hit, bounced, and hit again. All three of the passengers were thrown about. But, thanks to the way their seats clutched them, none were injured. The moment they came to a stop, Avery triggered the charge that blew the hatch open, and Daska ventured out with its machine pistol at the ready. Avery hated synths, but it was nice to have one of the machines on
his
side for a change.

The robot gave the all clear moments later. So Avery sent Nicolai out while he searched for the pod’s emergency supplies. They consisted of a good first-aid kit, five days of rations for four people, and a built-in tank filled with twenty gallons of water. The bad news was that he couldn’t take it with him. Still, the other stuff was better than nothing, and Avery hurried to toss it out through the hatch.

Once outside, Avery could see the flicker of a fire off in the distance. A dull boom marked a secondary explosion as something blew up deep inside the wreck. There was enough starlight to see by, and that was good, since they needed to clear the area before the sun rose. Once that occurred, more locals would flood the area searching for loot. Even so, it was necessary to pause and try to comfort Nicolai. Avery knelt next to him. “I want my mommy,” the youngster said, “and I want her
now
.”

It was a royal command but one Avery couldn’t comply with. Ironically enough, Daska was the spitting image of Ophelia, but that didn’t help. “I’m sorry, Nicolai . . . But your mother isn’t here—and I don’t know where she is. But there’s one thing I
do
know. Some bad people are looking for us, and we need to hide.”

There wasn’t much light, but Avery had been able to see the youngster’s frown. “Kill the bad people. That’s what Mommy does.”

Avery looked at Daska and back again. The boy had that right. His mother would kill anyone she considered to be “bad.” He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he agreed. “That’s true. But there are more bad people than Daska and I can kill by ourselves. So we have to retreat and live to fight another day.”

Nicolai was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. “General Crowley says that you are correct.”

Avery knew the general pretty well by then, having played war games with him aboard the
Victorious
. And now, as one of the so-called “advisors” Ophelia had downloaded into her child’s brain, Crowley could help or hinder. “Good,” Avery said. “Hop up onto Daska’s back. It will carry you. I’ll bring the supplies.”

It was obvious that the problems presented by the current situation had never occurred to the designers of the escape pod. And why would they? The vehicle was made for use in space. So there were no carrying straps on the bags containing the emergency supplies. Just handles. That forced Avery to sling the AXE and carry them like a pair of suitcases as he led the others in a southwesterly direction. Not because he truly believed that they could hike to Savas Prime but because they had to go
somewhere
.

They had some food, and the fact that Daska didn’t need any would make what they had last that much longer. Water was the most pressing necessity. That and a place to hide during the day. The time when the digs would be most likely to spot them.

As time passed, and a violet glow appeared along the eastern horizon, Avery became increasingly concerned. Now he realized that he could have, and should have, had the boy drink as much water as possible before parting company with the pod. But it was too late for could-haves. Daska’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “There’s some vegetation up ahead. That would suggest the presence of water.”

Avery peered into the early-morning gloom. He couldn’t see anything beyond a hundred feet or so. “Really? How can you tell?”

“I’m looking at it via a satellite,” the robot answered evenly. “It was damaged somehow . . . So most of its functionalities are off-line, but the infrared sensors still work, and I can see patches of bright red where vegetation exists.”

Avery knew synths had all sorts of capabilities, so the fact that Daska could uplink to a satellite and hack into it wasn’t too surprising. And, like most officers, he’d been trained to interpret various types of sat scans. That included Color Infrared Imagery (CIR). So he knew that Daska’s readout made sense. Even though it was counterintuitive, vegetation would appear to be red. So there was reason to hope. If they could reach the vegetation in the next couple of hours, they might find some water . . . Or a dozen warriors camped around a well! But all they could do was try. “Okay, well done. Who does the satellite belong to?”

“The Savas Prime Business Association,” Daska replied.

“Can you communicate with them?”

There was a pause. “No. Like I said, it was damaged, and my radio isn’t powerful enough to reach them without a relay.”

Avery swore. It would have been nice to call for help. But that wasn’t going to happen. So all they could do was put one foot in front of the other. Progress was steady, however. After two-plus hours, they arrived at an oasis. Avery was relieved to find that it was unoccupied at the moment. Only for the moment, though, since three fire pits could be seen along with hundreds of overlapping animal tracks.

As the sun rose, the Humans drank their fill before retreating to some thick underbrush to rest and come up with a plan. The problem was simple. Although Avery and his companions had a source of water, odds were that they would be discovered if they stayed in the oasis for very long, yet they couldn’t travel without canteens. So what to do? Take the canteens from the locals . . . Some of whom were likely to arrive at any time. Problem solved. Assuming they could overwhelm some Paguumis.

Avery shared the plan with Daska. And, since the concept was consistent with the robot’s programming, it had no objection. The wait began. The shade protected them from the worst of the heat—and furtive trips to the well served to slake their thirst.

But by the time the sun made its daily trip across the sky and set in the west, there had been no sign of the indigs Avery had been hoping for. He did see one thing, however . . . Something that was sufficient to produce a combination of hope and fear. That was the appearance of three white claw marks on the azure sky. They were contrails. But
whose
? Humans, come to rescue the empress? Or Hudathans bent on conquest? Both were possible.

As darkness fell, and Daska stood watch, the Humans made a meal of emergency rations. The dry fiber bars made MREs look good. But there was plenty of water to wash them down with—and Avery took the opportunity to teach Nicolai some basic camping skills. The princeling had never spent any time in the outdoors, and the chance to carve shavings off a dry stick and to light a carefully shielded fire kept his mind occupied for a while.

The process caused Avery to think about children. Would McKee want any? Some of their time together had been spent having sex—but there hadn’t been much conversation about the future. Just a vague plan to leave the Legion and settle on a rim world. And that made sense since there was no way to be sure that either one of them would survive their current enlistments.

Avery pushed such thoughts aside and prepared a depression for Nicolai to sleep in. Then he covered the boy with an emergency blanket and waited for him to fall asleep. At some point, Avery drifted off as well. He remained asleep until a touch caused him to sit upright and reach for the AXE. The air was cool, the sun was starting to rise, and he could hear voices. “Quiet,” Daska cautioned from inches away. “There are fourteen of them. Too many for us to kill. We must wait.”

Avery’s first thought was for Nicolai. Though normally clean, he was grubby now and looked like a street urchin rather than a prince. The boy was sitting on his haunches chewing a ration bar, and Avery knew he’d be thirsty as a result. And, with the natives gathered around the well, Nicolai wouldn’t be able to drink. It was the sort of thing a robot wouldn’t think of.

However, there was nothing they could do except hide and hope the digs would leave soon. A fire had been lit, and Avery could smell what he assumed was food, so he hoped they would eat and leave soon thereafter.

Once the meal was over, the locals posted a couple of sentries, spread mats out under the trees, and went to sleep. Travel at night and rest during the day. It made sense. Could they sneak up on the guards, kill them silently, and open fire on the others while they slept? They could try . . . But Avery didn’t like the odds.

Fortunately, neither one of the sentries felt the need to explore the oasis and were satisfied to groom their mounts, clean their weapons, and chat with each other. Not long thereafter, Nicolai began to complain of being thirsty, demanded to see his mother, and started to sulk. Avery gave him a pebble to suck on—knowing it would moisten his mouth. That was all he could do.

The sentries were relieved during the middle of the day, and as they lay down, one of the newly awoken warriors walked toward their hiding place. Avery was preparing to shoot him, and kill as many of the sleepers as he could, when the dig stopped to urinate. Once that was accomplished, he returned to the well. Avery gave a sigh of relief and thumbed the safety on. It was a reprieve. How many would they get?

But with the exception of the close encounter, the rest of the day was uneventful. Finally, as the sun began to set, the sleeping warriors got up and went about making another meal. The process seemed to take forever. Eventually, after a good deal of messing about, the Paguumis rode away.

Nicolai wanted to run straight to the well, but Avery made the boy wait for a full five minutes to make sure that none of the riders returned. They didn’t.

“Come on!” Avery shouted. “I’ll race you to the well!” Nicolai took off running—and Avery grinned as he followed along behind.

After drinking their fill, eating ration bars, and drinking more water, the Humans prepared for bed. If a patch of bare ground could be dignified as a “bed.” And as Avery lay there, he went over the day in his mind. What was to prevent the same thing from happening again? Nothing. But what could he do? Silly though it seemed, they were wedded to the well until a smaller group of travelers arrived.

Knowing that Daska would keep watch and couldn’t fall asleep, Avery allowed himself to drift off. He awoke several times during the night. Once to take a pee—and once because he heard voices. Or thought he did.

But the night passed uneventfully, and when morning came, there were no visitors. It was frustrating, and rather than wait any longer, Avery decided to leave once the sun went down. According to Daska, there was another oasis about fifteen miles to the west. It would be a long hike, but maybe they could make it.

Rather than run the risk of being caught out in the open, the threesome retreated to their hiding place as the sun rose higher in the sky. Avery and Nicolai made armies out of stones and passed the time attacking each other. Games that were made more interesting when General Crowley chose to participate. And that’s what they were doing when four warriors galloped into the oasis, skidded to a stop, and jumped to the ground. There was a good deal of grunting and belching as the animals drank from the well.

The digs were in a hurry, judging from their decision to travel during the heat of the day and the fact that they weren’t setting up camp. A rest stop then . . . Before continuing on their way. “These are the ones,” Avery whispered to Daska. “They will leave soon, so we must act quickly. Don’t kill the animals if you can avoid it. They could come in handy.”

Avery turned to Nicolai. “Stay here, son . . . Don’t move. Either Daska or I will come for you.” Nicolai knew enough to be scared. His eyes were big as he gave a short, jerky nod.

The boy would be helpless if both he and Daska were killed. Avery knew that. But it was a chance he’d have to take.

Avery turned back to Daska and motioned the synth forward. There was nothing especially subtle about the attack. Avery was counting on the element of surprise, and it worked. The warriors turned to stare as two strange-looking apparitions broke cover and ran straight at them. They were still trying to process the situation when Avery shot one of them in the head.

As the body fell, the others began to move, and one reacted quickly enough to fire a shot. Avery felt the slug tug at his left sleeve as Daska opened fire. In order to use the machine pistol effectively, the robot had to get in close. But once in position, the synth was deadly. Short bursts took two warriors down.