Rebellion (20 page)

Hathor grinned in satisfaction. The commanders transport and its four armored escorts had disappeared under the radiation of dozens of heavy blasters. Heat shimmers rose from the five hulks surrounded by vitrified sand. "Cut off the enemy's head, and the rest of the body is rendered harmless," she said. The rest of the military caravan was not forming a line abreast, as she had first thought. Instead, its component vehicles slewed round, plunging helter-skelter across the sands. Although they zigzagged and tried to spread out, offering targets as dispersed as possible, the invaders' destination was obvious from the altitude maintained by Ra's Eye. They were heading for the great pyramid in the deep desert, the docking station-the Abydos terminal for the StarGate network. "If they hope to retreat to their homeworld, they're doomed to disappointment," she murmured. But then, the invaders were doomed in any event. "Full thrust to the docking station," she ordered her navigation officer. Like some sort of mythical desert being, Ra's Eye raced over the sands, dragging its own wind with it. The ship quickly outdistanced the ground vehicles. In seconds it was skimming across the plateau that accommodated the docking station. Hathor quickly saw that the rocky shelf was also apparently serving as the invaders'

home away from home. Ra's Eye passed over a good acre's worth of tents, blowing most of them down. She spotted human figures running for their lives. And then the gleaming limestone of the pyramid lined up beneath her craft. "Commence docking," she ordered. In spite of its size, Ra's Eye shuddered slightly as it lowered itself on the station. The heavy drives caused great turbulence. The unfortunate humans outside would have been better off in a sandstorm. The ship settled. When Ra's yacht had landed, it seemed to cling to the sides of the pyramid, as if the stones had been gilded with a magically appeared flying palace. For Ra's Eye, the monolithic docking station was more like a mere pimple beneath its bulk. The landed battlecraft's vast footprint effectively doubled the ground-level area of the original construction. The roadway UMC had blasted and bulldozed out of the pyramid was crushed out of existence.

The entrance hall had disappeared, lost behind a gleaming quartzose crystal wall. Hathor nodded in satisfaction. The invaders had nowhere to retreat to. They were trapped on Abydos to be dealt with at leisure.

All access to the StarGate was literally sealed beneath the bulk of Ra's Eye.

Lieutenant Adam Kawalsky and Corporal Feretti stood in one of the base camp supply tents, inventorying ammunition. From the rumors they'd heard of Keogh's plans, the lieutenant figured there'd soon be a need for more bullets. He thought they might as well beat the rush-especially since they, like most of the Marine complement, had been left behind in camp. Feretti was almost climbing over the stacked cases of bullets under the tent, offering a moving definition of the word hyper. Kawalsky felt a certain sympathy for the noncommissioned officer.

Men who desired a quiet, peaceful life didn't join the Marines, much less end up in this particular outfit. On the other hand "Feretti,"

Kawalsky finally said, "you can't be wishing you were out there on the sharp end. I mean, Keogh's soldier boys may well end up shooting at kids we helped train." "You got it, sir." Feretti halted in his scramble to the top of the mountain of cases. "I don't want to fight with the locals. Hell, I like those kids. But it burns my butt that we get demoted to company clerk-and the rest of our outfit ends up guarding the supplies."

"Remember the halls of Montezuma," Kawalsky said with a smile. Feretti gave him a blank look. He'd always thought the halls of Montezuma was a latrine where you went when hit with Montezuma's revenge. Kawalsky sighed. "Mexican war-back in 1847, Winfield Scott landed in Veracruz with twelve thousand men and marched for Mexico City. For a year's worth of campaigning, the Marine contingent with him guarded the supply wagons. They reached the capital, but to crack the city's defenses, Scott had to take the fortress of Chapultepec. Guess who got the job of storming the joint?" Feretti threw him a snappy salute. "Marines, front and center." Kawalsky nodded. "So, we may be guarding supplies now, but soon enough we may end up pulling Keogh's ass out of a crack." His words were obscured by a rumble of thunder. And no sooner did he stop speaking than the tent was blown down on their heads. From outside they heard sudden cries and shouts of alarm. "Oh, man," Feretti complained, wrestling against canvas gone suddenly balky with a strong wind. "If this is another one of those sandstorms, we've got trouble by the ton.

These tents won't stand up to it, and there's too many of us to take shelter inside the pyramid." "Not to mention Keogh's two platoons out thataway-right in the teeth of the storm." Kawalsky dropped to his knees under the canvas, crawling along the floor until he reached the edge of the collapsed tent. "I still don't understand how this thing "

came straight down instead of being blown away. Out in the open at last, he stared up into the sky at the golden-glowing apparition, unmindful of the gale-force wind tugging at him. "Oh." That was all Kawalsky had to say. When Feretti snaked his way out from under the canvas, he offered additional comments. "Holy jumping Jesus Christ!" he breathed. "Ra's back!" "O'Neil is pretty sure the nuke he beamed aboard Ra's flying palace did that freak in," Kawalsky said, taking in the mass of the settling pyramid. "This looks like Ra's big brother." He turned to his old teammate. "Back into the tent." "Begging the lieutenant's pardon,"

Feretti replied, "but I don't think a millimeter's worth of canvas will give us much in the way of cover." "I'm not looking for cover, I'm looking for crowbars," Kawalsky replied. The corporal yanked up the fallen canvas cover. From the look on his face, it was the halls of Montezuma all over again. Feretti had no idea what Kawalsky was up to.

But he was ready to follow orders. Before they plunged into the ruined tent, Kawalsky took a second to explain. "We need the crowbars to open those cases to Stinger missiles the colonel stockpiled." Feretti still held the tent edge, his eyes involuntarily going to the vastness clamping down over the StarGate pyramid. "Hand-held missiles . . .

against that, sir?" Kawalsky shook his head. "The missiles aren't for that," he said. "They're for what comes next." Aboard Ra's Eye, Hathor found herself caught on the horns of a tactical dilemma. Her battlecraft was the single most powerful war machine on Abydos-anywhere in Ra's empire, for that matter. But her strongest weapon had just lost much of its utility-because it no longer had mobility. She had torn through the enemy's troops and flattened their camp in her first passage. But she'd had to land to cut the Earthlings's StarGate connection. And Ra's Eye would have to stay in this position to keep the enemy cut off. Back on Ombos, she'd simply have left a contingent of Horus guards to seize the StarGate and hold the pyramid. But Ra's Eye didn't have a sufficient infantry complement to allow for a blocking force. In the meantime the Earthling vehicles continued to scatter, along with the vast majority of the invading warriors. They had to be harried-to be hammered. "Scanners!" she barked. "Report on the wind situation outside. Has the disturbance from our passage moderated yet?"

The responsible technician frantically stroked control surfaces and examined readouts. "Lady Captain, the storm is abating." "Excellent.

Open the launching decks." The thick deck plates under Hathor's feet shuddered as massive sections in the outer hull of Ra's Eye slipped away to reveal the ranks of massed gliders. "Udajeet pilots, take your places," Hathor ordered. "Launch immediately." From over the gates of Nagada, Colonel Jack O'Neil watched the fate of Keogh's battalions as the colossal pyramid passed over the column. This thing is jumbo-sized trouble, he thought as the pyramid swatted Keogh's air elements out of the sky. It's not only much bigger than Ra's flying palace, but it's also obviously designed for military purposes. The blast-cannon aboard that thing make the weapons mounted on the eagle-gliders look like cigarette lighters. O'Neil focused his binoculars on what had to be the force's mobile command post, just in time to see a searing whip of energy smash the armored vehicles like toys. He continued to observe, acid roiling in his stomach, as the force disintegrated. It was incredible-and horrible to see. One second the Army STRIKE group was moving like a machine with the highest of tolerances-say, a Swiss watch.

The next moment it was as though that watch had dropped to the pavement from a second-story window. All that was left were a few swiftly bouncing, broken components. The two battalions, composed mainly of halfraw soldiers just out of training, ceased being military units and was turned into a cloud of fugitives.

it was as though by blasting Keogh in his APC, Ra's minions had vaporized the general's entire command. In a way, O'Neil could sympathize with the Soldiers' dilemma. It was manifestly no good to stand and fight with that flying mountain blasting away at them. However

. . . "It won't do them any good to run," O'Neil muttered. "Where do they think that monster is heading?" "I thought it was headed straight here," said a shaken voice at O'Neil's elbow. Daniel Jackson turned a pale face to his former comrade. "Maybe it was, before the crew spotted Keogh's people. But with those tanks and helicopters, it's obvious we don't belong here. So that big mother is heading for the pyramid-with the added benefit of joy-riding right through what's left of Keogh's force." O'Neil saw the incomprehension on Daniel's face. "Look, it's simple strategy. If possible, get astride your enemy's supply line. In this case, that's pretty simple." He put his eyes back to the binoculars. The killer pyramid was far in the distance now-about the location of the base camp. O'Neil refocused the lenses. Yes, the damned thing was settling. "Now it's official," he announced. "They're not just astride our communications line, they're sitting on it. We've got however many tons it takes to make up that behemoth between us and the StarGate. We can't get out-and I for one don't expect much help to be coming in." O'Neil repacked his binoculars and started across the rope bridge toward the nearest tower. "Where are you going?" Daniel asked. "Where do you think?" O'Neil nodded toward the fleeing fragments of the Army STRIKE force. "I'm the only commander those poor bastards have got." Daniel stared. "You can't seriously consider going out there alone." From beyond the Egyptologist, Skaara entered the conversation.

"My people will come," he said. O'Neil darted him a sharp look. "You were just ready to fight those guys. But now you'll come and help rescue them?" Skaara pointed toward the dull glow on the horizon-the golden gleam of the pyramid ship. "That was before they came. We don't know what your people will do to us, Colonel. But we know what Ra's people will want. And we will not be slaves-not anymore. We will fight them-and if you will lead us, we will follow you." "Considering that you're the closest thing I've got to an organized force-excepting whatever my Marines are doing out at the base-I accept." O'Neil turned to Daniel. "Translate for me to Kasuf. He'll have to evacuate the city-get all the noncombatants into the desert and under cover." The colonel turned a speculative eye in the direction of the grounded pyramid. "Remember the damage those glider-jets caused when they strafed the city? I'm sure that behemoth out there comes equipped with a lot more." O'Neil reached the tower and started down. The young soldiers were already swarming down Skaara shouted orders to his militia lieutenants. from the walls, gathering around the Humvee behind the city gates. The Marine climbed into the vehicle, followed by Skaara. Then Daniel scrambled aboard. O'Neil gave him a surprised glance. Jackson returned his look with a lopsided grin. "I think I'm crazy, too," he said. "But after you've fought for something you believe in, it's hard to go back to teaching-especially when other people may be out there dying." But when Sha'uri went to board the Humvee, Daniel started raising objections. She favored her academic husband with a loving but impatient smile. "You can talk about fighting," she said. "But I'm the one who came prepared." From under her cloak Sha'uri produced a 9mm Beretta pistol-one of the government-issue sidearms left behind from the first Abydos expedition. Daniel could only shrug in defeat. Most of Skaara's troops were assembled now. Some of them opened the gates.

O'Neil started the Humvee's engine. Behind him, the city was just beginning to awaken-and to learn of the new danger. He drove out, covered by the long shadows thrown by the walls in the light of the first rising sun. "We need a rally point," the professional warrior told his amateur aides. "I suggest the watch point Skaara set up outside our camps. The militia kids know it-and so do our people." He turned to Skaara. "You can't ride with me. That will be putting all our command eggs in one basket." Skaara nodded, apparently understanding the earthly idiom. "I'll ride with you a little way," he said, pointing at a pillar of smoke rising in the near distance. It marked the resting place of one of the oncoming Army vehicles. "From there I'll lead my people to the watch point." O'Neil shrugged. It wasn't too far. He waited while Skaara conveyed his decision to his lieutenants in Abydan. They looked toward the smoke and nodded. Then O'Neil sent the Humvee jouncing forward. They quickly outdistanced the young militia members, even though the Abydans were advancing at a ground-eating trot. The Humvee's motor whined as it jounced and jostled the passengers, seeming at points merely to graze the sand below its wheels. O'Neil tried to avoid dune crest lines, where he'd be silhouetted against the rising suns. His twisting course did its best to stay in the shadows. They swung around a swale of sand to confront the source of Skaara's pillar of smoke. It was a gutted armored personnel carrier. Part of its aluminum armor roof was completely gone, vaporized. The troop carrier had rolled on its side, and the engine had evidently blown up, igniting the fuel tank. Two of the four-man crew had nearly made it away. They lay scorched and unmoving a little distance from the wreck. O'Neil pulled his vehicle up.