Cobra Guardian: Cobra War: Book Two (8 page)

"Maybe," Jody conceded. "In which case, this whole train of thought has already stopped in the station."

"Or?" Paul prompted.

"Or it could be something more complicated," Jody said slowly. "If the gigger is announcing his presence and claiming his territory . . . only then he stops when something bigger with a better claim to that territory comes along . . ." She shook her head. "I don't know, Dad. There's something going on here--I'm sure of it. But I don't have any kind of real grip on it yet."

For a moment they stood silently, gazing down at the rumbling gigger. "Well, when you run out of theory, it's time for an experiment. You feel up to carrying a double load of survival equipment?"

"Probably," Jody said, frowning at him. "Why?"

He gestured down at the cage. "If we each take a double load, it'll free up Geoff and Freylan to carry our new friend here. A little five-kilometer stroll through the forest would be the perfect way to observe his growling habits in the wild."

"Ooh, I don't think they'll go for that," Jody said doubtfully. "That trap is heavier than it looks. Especially with a full-grown gigger inside."

"Let's ask them," Paul suggested. "Maybe they'll surprise you."

To Jody's surprise, they did. "Interesting," Geoff said, frowning thoughtfully as he stuffed food bars and water purification tablets into one of the backpacks. "I don't think anyone's gone that direction before."

"And why would they?" Freylan agreed as he finished with one of his two backpacks and started on the second. "I don't think there's any known ecology where that kind of interspecies territorial hierarchy exists, at least not the kind you're suggesting. Land and mate wars usually only take place between members of the same species."

"It might explain why Caelian has so little predator-on-predator killing, too," Geoff said. "Damn. Wouldn't it be a real kick if the solution to this mess was nothing more complicated than everyone carrying around a recording of screech tiger screeches?"

" 'Course, your population will be totally deaf within three weeks," Freylan said dryly. "But there should be a way to engineer active-cancellation earplugs to filter out most of the sound."

"So you don't mind dragging him along?" Jody asked, still not quite believing they were going for this so enthusiastically.

"No problem," Geoff assured her. "Freylan, you think you can rig up something so that we can carry the bars on our shoulders instead of having to actually hold them the whole way?"

"No problem," Freylan assured him. "We can probably even use the spare straps from the survival kit to rig cross-shoulder harnesses so the guy in back can see over the cage." He gave Jody a tentative smile. "Great idea, Jody."

"Well, let's not award ourselves any prizes yet," Jody warned. "It could easily just be a gigger trying not to attract attention."

"Which is fine, too," Geoff said. "If and when he shuts up it'll mean we need to be extra careful to watch for something big to come at us. Okay, so Freylan and I will rig the cage and carry the gigger, while--"

"Snouts," Freylan said.

They all looked at him. "What?" Jody asked.

"That's his new name," Freylan said. "Snouts."

Jody looked questioningly at Geoff. The other just shrugged. "He used to name his lab equipment back at school, too," he said. "Don't worry, it's harmless. So like I was saying, Freylan and I will carry Snouts, and you, Jody will carry all the packs."

"She'll carry two of them," Paul corrected. "I'll carry the others."

"Sorry, but you're the sole defense of this little expedition," Geoff said, shaking his head. "That means you need to be free and unencumbered at all times."

"I think you're underestimating my abilities," Paul said mildly. "Besides, with a little luck, I'll be able to hear or see any trouble coming long before I need to use any of my combat reflexes."

Geoff snorted. "If we had any luck, we wouldn't be sitting in the middle of a Troft invasion."

"No, he's right, Dad," Jody said reluctantly, eyeing the four bulging backpacks. "I guess we shouldn't have wasted time dividing up the kit."

"Not at all," Geoff soothed. "It'll be easier to distribute the weight around your shoulders and hips this way."

Jody narrowed her eyes slightly at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she challenged.

"As much as I've enjoyed anything in the past ten minutes, pretty much," he agreed. He smiled, the old confident Geoff smile that had won the group so much of their corporate funding over the past few months. "If it helps any," he added, "and should the need arise, I'll also be available to do all the cooking."

"Oh, yeah," Jody said, nodding. "You're enjoying this."

"Probably not for long," Freylan said, reaching to the seat beside him and picking up a pair of stun sticks. "Here--you should probably carry one of these. Geoff, you want the other one?"

"Just a minute," Paul said as Jody gingerly took the two weapons and started to hand one to Geoff. "Do any of you know how to use one of those?"

"We all took the intro course aboard the
Freedom's Fire
," Jody reminded him.

"Yes, I sat in on that," Paul said. "Let me rephrase: has any of you ever actually
used
anything like those?"

"I had a fencing unit in high school," Jody offered.

"Did the foils generate current in the half-megavolt range?" Paul asked pointedly.

"Well, no," Jody conceded.

"Then your answer would be no," Paul told her. "Either of you?"

"No," Geoff said as Freylan shook his head.

"Then they stay in the bag," Paul said firmly. "Unless you've had actual training--and that shipboard lecture doesn't qualify--they'll be more of a danger to you than to anything you're likely to meet out there."

"Yes, but--" Geoff began.

"They stay in the packs," Paul said firmly. "Trust me. Some of the animals here are big enough to take a jolt that would kill you outright."

"Maybe we should just leave them here, then," Freylan suggested. "They're pretty heavy for something we can't use."

"No, let's take them," Paul said. "They may be useful in setting up a perimeter wherever we wind up spending the night. Just make sure they're locked in the off position before you put them back in the bags."

"They are," Jody confirmed as she handed the weapons back to Freylan. "Anyway, don't worry about the weight," she added. "
I'll
be the one carrying them, remember?"

"So let's grab everything and get going," Paul said, opening his door. "Time to hit trail."

"Just no hiking songs," Jody warned. "I've heard you sing, and this planet hates us enough as it is."

Chapter Five

At Lorne's direction, Treakness led the group down a back stairway, out of sight of the Troft warship, which would hopefully also allow them to bypass the nervous residents Lorne and Nissa had left in the lobby.

They reached the back door to find that a smaller group was likewise milling around the smaller area there. But everyone seemed preoccupied with his or her own thoughts and concerns, and none of them challenged the intentions of four people foolish enough to venture out into the streets of a freshly occupied city. Certainly none of them asked to come along. Lorne opened the door a crack, confirmed that nothing was moving nearby, and the group slipped out into the early morning gloom.

By this time, Lorne knew, Capitalia would normally be starting to come to life. Traffic would be picking up as merchants arrived at their stores for pre-opening checks, restaurateurs began preparing the day's dishes, and early-rising office workers got a jump on the traffic and headed in to tackle the work waiting on their desks.

But not today. Today, the rising sun might as well have been looking down on a ghost town.

Or at least a ghost neighborhood. Over the thudding of the group's footsteps in his enhanced hearing Lorne could pick out the confused-sounding rumbles of multiple spine leopards as they tried to figure out the unfamiliar surroundings they'd been unceremoniously dumped into. Behind the sounds of the animals he could hear muffled metallic whirrings and clanks as the Trofts in their warships finished locking down their landing gear, tested the gimbals on their wing-mounted weapons, and probably prepared their troop deployment.

"Where is everyone?" Nissa shouted.

Lorne jumped, cursing, as he quickly dialed back his audios. "Sorry," Nissa said, her voice this time sounding more like the murmur the question had actually been.

"Where do you think they are?" Treakness growled before Lorne could answer. "You expect them to all rush outside to see the pretty fireworks?"

"I was asking about the Trofts, sir," Nissa countered stiffly. "Shouldn't they be moving troops into the Dome or the patroller stations or something?"

"Don't worry, that'll happen soon enough," Lorne said. "My guess is that they're waiting for the spinies to sort themselves out into territories, maybe draw a few more Cobras or patrollers into the open--"

And with his audios off, he was caught completely off guard by the spine leopard that appeared suddenly from behind an under-drop trash container across the street and charged.

Reflexively, Lorne took a long step to his right, perpendicular to the spiny's path, putting some distance between himself and the others. A flick of his eye set a target lock on the predator's head, and he shifted his weight onto his right foot. He would let it close about half the remaining distance, he decided, then swing his left leg up and nail it with an antiarmor laser shot. Maybe a quick burst with his sonic a step or two before that, just to slow it down--

"Lorne!" Nissa gasped.

--and in that frozen second he belatedly remembered where he was and who he was with. Not out in the Aventinian wilderness with his fellow Cobras, but in a city with a trio of helpless civilians. Civilians who couldn't fight, couldn't get out of the way, and probably didn't even have enough sense to duck.

And the spine leopard was charging directly toward them.

Lorne cursed under his breath, leaping back again to put himself between the civilians and the predator, realizing in that same instant that he couldn't use his planned response. An audible sonic, a visible flash, and he would have every Troft in range converging on this street.

Which left him only one option.

The spiny had made it two more steps, with maybe six more and a short leap to go, by the time Lorne had his original head shot cancelled and a new targeting lock on the front of the animal's neck where it met the lower jaw. Then, bracing himself, he squatted down and fell backwards, doing a controlled roll from hips to shoulder blades onto his back. He heard Nissa gasp something else as the spine leopard, sensing wounded prey, shifted direction slightly and bore straight down on him. As the predator shoved itself off the pavement into what it surely expected to be a killing leap, Lorne triggered his antiarmor laser. His leg servos, responding to the spiny's position and Lorne's own programmed target lock, swung his left leg up to meet the incoming threat.

And as Lorne's heel connected solidly with the attacker's throat, the laser finally fired, burning instantly through muscle and throat and brain.

The spine leopard's momentum kept it moving, caroming off Lorne's foot and flying over his body. But the creature was dead long before it thudded to the pavement.

"What the
hell
was that?" Treakness demanded as Lorne rolled back up onto his feet.

"It's called saving your lives," Lorne said stiffly. Going over to the dead spine leopard, he scooped it up in his arms, hearing the faint sound of his arm servos as they took the predator's weight. "You might say thank you."

"
Thank
you," Treakness growled. "What I
meant
was why didn't you just shoot the damn thing instead of playing patty-cake with it?"

Poole cleared his throat. "I think he was trying not to let the Trofts see the flash--"

"Shut up, Poole," Treakness cut him off. He was still glaring, but Lorne could see the anger starting to fade as he realized his aide was right. "Fine, so you're brave and strong
and
clever. Now what?"

"First, we find a place to stash the evidence," Lorne said, looking around. The closest stashing place was the trash container where the animal had been hiding. "Wait here," he said, and crossed the street to the bin.

He'd hoped he would be able to dump the carcass inside, but the overhead conduit that carried the building's trash out to the bin fit too snugly for him to slip the animal through. He had to settle for shoving the animal behind the bin, pushing it as far out of sight as he could.

The others were looking nervously around when he rejoined them. "Come on, come on," Treakness muttered. "Another two blocks and we'll hit Palisade Park. Mostly low buildings around it, so we should be able to see all of the nearby Troft ships from there."

"Sounds good," Lorne said, glancing around at the five- and six-story structures rising up around them. "Again, no talking unless absolutely necessary, and keep those footsteps
quiet
."

They had made it halfway down the next block when Lorne began to pick up the distant hum of motors and the dull thuds of thick metal hitting pavement. They had covered another quarter block when the rumble of heavy-duty engines--a lot of them--began.

They had reached the next street, and Lorne was peering carefully around the corner building, when the rumble of engines became a line of boxy vehicles lumbering past along Cavendish Boulevard a block away, each heavily armored and sporting a swivel gun on its roof.

"What is it?" Treakness murmured.

Grimacing, Lorne stepped back and gestured for him to look. Treakness eased his head around the corner, watched for a few seconds, then drew back again. "So much for getting to the park," he said tightly.

"The Trofts?" Poole asked anxiously.

"No, the Ghirdel Pastry Express truck," Treakness snarled. "Use your
brain
, Poole."

"Enough of that," Lorne ordered. "Everyone be quiet a minute."

The others froze. Lorne keyed up his audios again, trying to hear beyond the roar of the traffic rolling past a block away. As far as he could tell, that particular convoy was the only one in the immediate area. "It just seems to be that one bunch," he said, lowering the audios. "Any idea where they might be going?"