Homefall: Book Four of the Last Legion Series (29 page)

He waved to a talker.

“Is Boursier ready to launch?”

The talker asked.

“Sir, Boursier One is ready.”

“Launch!” Liskeard ordered. “Try to give any close support you can at the stadium, and take out any of those patrol ships that get in your way.”

The
aksai
in the hold dropped from its mag-couples, wobbled on its antigravs toward the open lock, was out into the open air.

Liskeard took a deep breath, made a decision.

“Close the lock and stand by to lift.”

• • •

The stairwell to the exit was packed with pushing Mobiles, trying to get out of this arena of horror.

Njangu appeared at a landing above. He held a sack in one hand.

“Hey!” he shouted.

A few heard him through the din, looked up.

Njangu thumbed one of the grenades in the bag to life, dropped the bag in the center of the throng below.

He ducked back out the door he’d come in through, deciding he didn’t want to see what happened in four … no, three seconds.

• • •

The Mobiles boiled out into the street, just as Jacqueline Boursier, swearing madly, fought the
aksai
, never intended for low speed close air support, down the avenue toward the stadium.

She saw people running, starting to shoot at her, gawping in horror, and she toggled a sensor.

Her chaingun churned 35mm collapsed-uranium bullets in a six-thousand-round stream into the street below, red tracers, red death.

She lifted into an Immelmann at the end of the avenue, came back, trying not to notice the buildings just a couple of meters below, very close to her wingtips.

• • •

Garvin was in a room, trying to help Knox keep the showgirls from complete hysteria when his belt com buzzed.

“Gaffer … this is
Big Bertha.
Stand by for pickup.” Garvin forgot about the women, ran hard for the main entrance.

• • •

Big Bertha
, bigger than the stadium, bigger than any building in the city, banked overhead, then its nose lifted.

“He can’t do that,” Danfin Froude said.

“But he is,” Ristori said.

He was. Liskeard backed
Big Bertha
on secondary drive toward the sort of vacant lot. Its landing fins, then the ship’s bulk itself, smashed down on the ruined building.

Smoke-blackened facing fell away, then the building’s steel framing bent, broke, and
Big Bertha
was safely down, even if canted at a bit of an angle.

Some of the Mobiles chanced shooting at the transport, but a hidden port opened, and a pair of chainguns yammered, smashing buildings open as if they were cardboard.

“That’s a good kitten,” Sir Douglas soothed, as a tiger and two lions, growling, went past him back in the cages.

“Nice kitties,” Njangu said nervously. A lioness bounded down the passageway, and into the cage.

• • •

“That’s all but one,” Sir Douglas said.

“And here he comes,” Njangu said.

Muldoon, dark stains on his black coat, prowled down the passageway. He paused, eyed Njangu thoughtfully, licked bloodied jaws, went inside.

“All right,” Sir Douglas said. “Now, let’s get these cages in the air.”

He banged the cage door shut, and Njangu started breathing again.

• • •

The stadium PA crackled on.

“
Big Bertha
is here! Everybody to the main exit for loading! Don’t hurry, don’t panic,” Garvin’s voice said. “We’ve got plenty of time, and nobody will get left.”

• • •

Jiang Fong, his wife and child, the other acrobats trailing, were the first to reach
Big Bertha
, trotting up the ramp and through the lock.

“Names … quickly,” Erik Penwyth called.

Fong answered, and Penwyth made check marks on a list.

Next came the horses, trotting together, Darod Montagna and Kweik’s widows behind them, chivvying them up the ramp, back toward their safe houses.

Darod turned back, unslinging her blaster.

“You’re supposed to stay aboard, once you make it,” the officer told her.

“I’m still not through doing paybacks,” Montagna snarled, and went back across to the stadium.

• • •

“Tails up! Tails up!” Sunya Thanon and Phraphas Phanon were chanting and, obediently, the elephants, in a long line, streamed out the main entrance toward the steps, following Sir Douglas’s cat cages.

One brushed against the ticket booth, collapsing it.

Thanon and Phanon darted to the front, their blasters ready.

Thanon saw a man with a rifle, shot at him, missed. The man fired back, and Thanon screamed, went to his knees.

Phanon was beside him. Thanon stared at him, not recognizing Phanon for a moment.

“I wish,” he tried. “I wish …”

He coughed blood.

“Perhaps I am now going to Coando,” he said. “I will wait for you there.”

Phanon’s eyes were blurred as he heard his lover die.

He looked up, saw a bottle spewing fire spin toward him, smash down, and explode. The flames took him, and he screamed, tore at himself as his flesh blackened, fell across Thanon’s body.

The elephants were milling, Imp screaming, close enough to the molotov to have gotten burned.

Two women with improvised spears ran toward the bulls. The spear was yanked away from the first by one raging bull, and the beast’s rolled trunk shot out, smashing her skull.

The second tried to run, was taken, lifted, and hurled, almost casually, against a building.

Alikhan ran out of the stadium, eyes red in rage, a devourer-weapon in each paw, firing, and then there were no attackers left alive to shoot.

“Tails up! Tails up!” he called, and the elephants swayed back and forth, hesitating, then remembered the command, even if it came from an unfamiliar voice.

Obediently, once more in line, the elephants followed Alikhan, Imp and Loti close at his side, across the street and up the ramp into the starship.

Alikhan led the elephants back to their area, wished he had time to soothe and feed them, knew better.

He found a lift, went to the top of the starship, found Dill buckling himself into an
aksai
, Kekri Katun trying to help.

“Come on, partner,” Dill said. “I want some blood.”

“I alssso,” Alikhan hissed, normally perfect Common lost a bit in his rage as he opened the canopy of his own ship. “In bucketsss and barrelsss.”

• • •

In a holo studio halfway across the city, Fove Gadu was in mid-’cast:

“Oh no, we of the Mobilization Party have found Abia Cornovil was not the only one corrupted by the aliens. We have a list of over a hundred men and women, high-rankers all, who’ve leagued themselves with these monsters.

“Even now, as our fearless men and women are bringing down these offworlders, we have squads of the People’s Militia out, tracking down these traitors, to bring them to People’s Justice …”

• • •

Aboard
Big Bertha
, a com officer motioned to Liskeard. On an inset screen was the image of Gadu, pounding his fist on a podium.

“Sir, I’ve got a perfect fix on him.”

“You’re sure it’s not an echo antenna?”

“Very sure. I’ve got all three of that station’s antennae plotted, and this ain’t none of them.”

Liskeard smiled, motioned to a talker.

• • •

“Come, ladies,” Knox said as he chivvied the showgirls toward
Big Bertha
, weaving through engine-revving lifters waiting to go up the ramp. “Don’t panic, don’t smear your makeup, and I guarantee I’ll have the Gaffer issue a bonus for this whole day’s silliness.”

One of the women shrieked as two
aksai
floated out of the starship, not a meter overhead, then climbed for altitude.

• • •

Darod Montagna gunned down three Mobiles crouched safely — they thought — in an entranceway, then jerked sideways as rounds pinged off the sidewalk around her.

She rolled to her feet, dived for a solid-looking, only half-destroyed midway booth. The sniper’s bolts slammed in around her.

“Pinned down, by all the hells,” she growled. “What a goddamned amateur thing to do.”

She heard a roar, and went even flatter as a strange-looking patrol ship, not twenty meters overhead, flashed past, cannon winking along its stub wings.

Gunfire chattered close, and she rolled over, blaster ready, as Garvin dived in beside her.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he managed. “What’re you doing out here?”

“The same thing you are,” Montagna said. “Being pinned down. You’re about a hell of a rescuer.”

“I’m sorry,” Garvin said. “I saw you getting your ass in a jamb and thought I could help. I’m short a Zhukov … all I’ve got is me at the moment.

“Normally, enough. But now …”

The patrol ship came back by, but this time Boursier’s
aksai
was on its tail. Someone on the ground put a burst through the
aksai
’s fuselage.

Boursier’s ship fought for altitude, juddering, almost stalled, went inverted, corrected, managed to brake, and floated back inside
Big Bertha.

“Hope to hell whoever’s pushing that boat got that patrol ship,” Darod said.

“Hadda be Jacqueline … and no, she didn’t,” Garvin said. “Here the bastard comes again, and I think we’re his only goddamned target!”

“Go pick on somebody your own size, you bully!” Darod shouted.

Obediently the patrol ship lifted, and began an attack pass on
Big Bertha.

• • •

A weapons officer aboard
Big Bertha
toggled two Shrikes, and they flashed out, struck the patrol craft, and blew it into fragments.

• • •

Flame and fragments clattered down around Garvin and Darod.

“Come on, you buttbreath Buddha,” Montagna shouted. “No goddamned friendly-fire casualties allowed here!”

Garvin saw movement to his front, fired, and the movement stopped.

“Forget about incoming friendly rounds,” he said. “There’s enough folks out there on the ground trying to get us killed.”

• • •

Five Centrum patrol ships drove toward the distant bulk of
Big Bertha.
None of them saw the two
aksai
and the pair of Nana boats until the first two patrol ships blew up.

The surviving three banked away, two holding wing-mate discipline, the third going for the deck and full speed.

“Come on, come on,” Ben Dill crooned, seeing one patrol ship dance in his sights. A Shrike beeped at him, and he let it go, switched his aim to the second patrol ship.

It suddenly rolled, went for the deck, Dill’s
aksai
after it. He noted detachedly the first patrol ship bursting into flames, a ball of flame rolling down a wide avenue, flames spreading in its wake.

The second ship was weaving back and forth. Dill found it in his sights, fired without the Shrike telling it was ready.

The missile went off about ten meters from the patrol ship. The Centrum craft rolled and, still at full speed, crashed, tumbling, through a high-rise government-looking building.

Dill banked away, went for altitude, waited until his breathing slowed a little bit, keyed his mike.

“Uh … Alikhan One, this is Dill One. Need any help?”

“Alikhan … this is an elusive one. I think I might use some … no. He just flew into my missile.

“Do you see anything else to shoot at?”

Ben scanned his screen.

“Not really. Guess we go orbit Big Momma and strafe a little.”

“I think I shall look for groups of people,” Alikhan responded, “and perhaps lighten my ammunition load when I do.”

• • •

Gunfire blasted above Garvin’s and Darod’s heads, and four Forcemen, Njangu at their head, doubled toward them, found shelter, waited.

No return fire came.

“I guess we went and killed the last brave Mobile,” Njangu said.

“Now, if you two are through screwing around out here, would you like to dust yourselves off and get your asses back to where they should be?”

Garvin gingerly picked himself up, helped Darod to her feet.

“Yeh,” he said. “But I gotta tell you, young Yoshitaro, you’ve got the shittiest rescuer’s patter I’ve ever heard.”

“If you don’t like it,” Njangu said, “feel free to go to my competition.”

• • •

“ … the moment of victory can be only moments away,” Gadu went on. “I have instructed my friends to be sure and take prisoners, hopefully the leaders of this evil cabal, so they may testify at the trial of our traitorous — ”

He broke off, staring through the soundproof window at a very black, very ugly Nana class patrol ship hovering no more than fifty meters away.

Chaka triggered his chaingun, and the rounds tore the studio — and Fove Gadu — into shreds.

“I don’t know if that contributed to peace in our time,” he said into his mike, “but it sure as hell made
me
feel a lot better.”

• • •

The band came out of the stadium proudly, still blasting the “Peace March.” Halfway across the avenue, Aterton shouted a number, and they changed into the “Confederation Anthem.”

A bit of shrapnel spanged off the concrete, took a timpanist in the leg. His drum, held up by a dropper, bounced away down the street, booming each time it hit.

The band cascaded up the ramp, through the lock, and was aboard.

Just behind them, the two
aksai
floated into the ship.

• • •

“Is everyone accounted for?” Garvin asked.

“Checked and checked twice,” Erik Penwyth said. “Everybody’s aboard, including all of our casualties.”

“We’re sure,” Njangu said, sounded weary. “I made two checks through that frigging stadium myself before I decided you needed some rescuing.”

Garvin lifted his com.

“ ‘Kay. Take us upstairs.”

• • •

“I have four ships closing,” an electronics officer reported as
Big Bertha
lifted through the stratosphere.