The 6th of Six (The Legend of Kimraig Llu) (24 page)

“It is our building, all of us belong here. I am simply Breen now. I intend to honor the commitment I made to all of you. Did I not support you before the entire council? I believe I was there on the roof with you and your people and made sure we all left Number 4 Building safely.”

“You did all that, well planned down to the last detail. My neck is warning me not to turn my back to you as I did just a few days ago. Why is that?”

“Kimraig, you will have to decide what is best for you. The Wicca would be more inclined to support a shared government if you help me with this.” She had called on him to defend his support for their government. There was no way he could turn that down.

“They will not share power with males. They only want to lure me with more false promises.”

“Can you blame them for seeking assurances?” He had surprised her with his first negative remark against the Wicca. She was thinking fast now, unwilling to lose her advantage.

“We are castaways on this damaged slice of a nation thrown away decades ago by a government consisting almost entirely of males. A shared government is something different. We must find a way to make it possible.”

When she sensed he was unconvinced, she added her last tidbit. “I know. The government in AD had no luck with that. This will be different if it is us.”

Breen watched him fight within himself. She waited. There was one more angle to explore, where they were going as a couple, but she might need that later.

“If you say, ‘do it for me,’ I just might throw up.”

He had that charming grin on his face, the one that had caused more than one reluctant female to drop her clothing.

Breen half smiled. “If it would work, I will say just that. This time, it is my turn to muddle through.” She allowed a wicked surge of triumph as she used the words he had used himself.

“No need, I would not believe you anyway. No matter, I gave the Wicca my word long ago. I will not go back on my commitment now.” His grin disappeared. “I will work with you, for my friends, they need looking after.” He paused, then threatened, “Be careful.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “Those friends you brought with you, is that your army?”

“You know better. Spies reported almost to the man how many we are.” He was deadly serious now. “Your estimates are so large you could not attack us in any one building without the other buildings’ knowing. In less than a day your fancy battle groups would cease to exist.”

He had no idea why he was explaining the facts contained in Mistress Ann’s report to the Wicca. Had the Leader of Leaders not shared with their newest member?

“My fancy battle groups were trained by you. There will be heavy losses,” Breen said, forced into defending her troops. This was new information to her and probably not true. Just a week ago, Mistress Ann had assured her that their report on his army found nothing new worth noting.

“Training is one thing, experience another, and loyalty—that is something else again. None of that matters now. When your troops joined me to rescue our delegation at your Number 6 Building, I became the focal point for the Wicca. My ability to lead the rebellion became secondary. I am simply too visible.” He sighed, resigned to some inner voice. “Now, someone else will lead.”

“Who will lead?”

Breen had trouble keeping her voice steady. There may be someone in the four SHORTS following them, ready to take over.

“We are broken into small, expendable cells, each unknown to the other.”

“Well, that was effective in the war that left only us in this small space,” Breen said.

“It was very effective,” Kimraig said, grunting a short laugh. “It was so perfect it destroyed the mad man who spawned it.”

Breen felt her ride slow and come to a stop. They were about to approach her building when new doubts began to shake her. The Outsiders may have returned to occupy the building. They may have to take it back again. The Crossers had gone ahead and were setting a trap for them. His troops, or Others, could be mixed in with hers and they would mutiny.

Well, we shall find out,
she thought.

“Mistress...forgive me...it is just Breen now,” he said with sarcasm branding the last phrase. “I suggest you let my teams take point. Your groups rely on armor, spears and shields that we will need if withdrawal becomes a necessity. We will use light body amour and Atl-atls.”

Kimraig thought for a moment and smirked, he would not tell her it was an ancient hunting weapon.

“Proceed.” She would observe, not ask what an Alt-alt was.

“Sala let Kimraig out.”

“No need,” he said as he moved, bent over, to the rear bulkhead and lifted the short front-facing seat. With a quick movement, he jabbed his hand down into a small space and held it there as he turned back to her.

“Since you split my people with Brody-1, Hunters Curtis and Cullen between the other carriers, may I suggest you ask them to stand aside as we deploy.”

“Already done,” she said as if he should have known. Blocking her use of telepathy from Kimraig, she quickly passed the information to her Queen and Hunters.

Breen watched as his hand pushed sharply down. A catch released and the back of her SHORT tilted out from the top and banged down to the ground. The ramp it formed was large enough for a double line of troops to exit at top speed.

Dust settled slowly where the ramp hit. The opening formed a picture frame around what had once been a large square, with lawns, and flowerbeds, and pebble walkways. Now it was dust and silver ribbons of pebbles, with machines at the ready, troops deploying. At one end, a depression that might have been a large lake, bone dry for a long time. All surrounded on three sides by buildings. Two of which they would occupy.

Outside, the other three vehicles had pulled into an X with their backs to one another. She watched as his workers spilled out leaving her Troopers gapping in the doorways. They formed into four circles of six, all unarmed.

“Please sit,” Kimraig ordered. He watched to make sure, then stabbed down again.

The center of the floor slid away revealing a storage area fashioned between the chassis rails. There were several bundles of thin dart-like spears, lying atop small battle shields. Alongside was a short padded bag about the size of an arm from shoulder to finger tips with two more bundles of thin spears tied to it. The final item was a box of swords.

Breen observed the other three carriers. The seventh person from each, males and females, moved quickly to the circles, each lugging a padded bag in one hand and the box of swords in the other. The circle opened and closed. No one went back for shields or the remaining spears. One group waited expectantly, eyes toward Kimraig. She realized he would bring their weapons.

Breen looked to him, her eyebrows arching in question.

He answered, sensing before she asked, “First defense; prepare to repel an attack, then set up your offense. Watch and learn. You may face an army armed like this.”

“Brody-1 and her Hunters are headed this way. I suggest you and Sala arm yourselves.” He started down the ramp with both hands full.

She watched as he entered his circle of troops to unpack the padded bag. Inside was Atl-atl. As if demonstrating, Kimraig and the three carriers in the middle of the other circles, lifted what looked like metal tubes, cut in half—long ways—the length of a man’s arm from hand to shoulder. The tube included a wooden frame, allowing purchase for the user’s hand. Until they fitted the dart-like spears—half again as long—flat on top of the device, she had not realized that the butt of the spear slid into the cupped end, holding it lightly in place.

They removed the dart for the next test. Now each cradled the frame and tube in one palm, index finger crooked over the open top of the tube, simulating holding the dart in place.

Each, male or female, had their own method for testing the device. They used a motion like throwing a ball, the index finger snapping away at the top of the arc so the dart would fly straight and true. Only Kimraig did not like the feel of the weapon. He slid his palm along the hand frame, tested the balance, and tried again. She watched him nod as if he had found a solution. He must have, since he simulated two more throws with his hand in that position.

Kimraig stumbled, pulled straight and paused. Face white as a Leaders robe. Teeth clenched under tight lips. The injuries to his chest and ribs cried for comfort.

Each circle broke and formed into a box, with the new weapons at the center. In one circle, a female worker moved in. Selecting one bundle of darts, she strapped it high to her back where the butts stood upright, then returned to arm each of the remaining workers. The throwing darts became short spears. Male and female—armed equally.

One lightly armed war machine in a box and a padded bag.

“Runners, retrieve shields and swords. On my mark, go.” Kimraig yelled with that strong parade ground command they all had heard so often. He wavered a bit as pain shot through his chest.

“Troops hold,” he yelled again, reacting to a small flag waving from the rubble nearest the left side of the square. Figures began to appear, with instant recognition, he shouted again. “Runners continue arming your circles. Troops stand down.”

Unable to hide the pleasure he felt, he walked, unarmed, toward the rubble where the flags continued to wave.

Breen watched that Crossers woman, LaJay, step into view.

“Our new best friends have made the trip after all,” she muttered. She continued to watch as the black woman took Kimraig by the shoulders and then bent to kiss his forehead. He put his arms around her and, ignoring pain, hugged. He leaned hard against the woman with more than friendship. After separating, they held hands for just a second as their eyes met.

Runners returned to the battle square to arm the remaining troops. Kimraig, LaJay and her handful of males and females walked back towards the carriers.

A streak of mean surfaced instantly inside Breen, surprising the hell out of her. She did not intend to start with him again, but she would not let
that woman
have him either. Her bitch was alive and well and she had that one little angle of their shared relationship yet to play.

I command here
, she thought.

She turned her back and hissed at Brody-1.

“Go break those two up. We are supposed to be a couple, and that does not look right.”

“He is coming back to you now. His troops have all taken a knee. That must be how they stand down.” Brodie-1 took one look at her leader and began moving toward Kimraig.

“Yes Mistress, immediately.” She raced to meet him half way.

* * *

An hour later Kimraig was ready. Attacking the same area twice adds ten times the risk. Defenders remembered what they had done right and what they had done wrong. They also had the advantage of direct observation of their adversary’s methods, plus specific details like how attacking troops reacted to different applied pressure.

LaJay had reported that One Nine and its support building were empty. Stripped and empty, would be a better description, she added. Although dubious, Kimraig now took charge, his manner easing the discomfort of Breen’s indecision in accepting his plan. He broke her battle groups into four functional units, giving effective command of each part to one of the four Hunters.

He assigned protection duty for Breen and Leader Sala, two Queens for each of them. Brody-1 and her counterparts chafed at an assignment away from the action. Kimraig patiently explained the concept of small, fast groups operating individually inside stairwells and hallways. He also pointed out that four Queens, who did not require orders to act, could take care of their leaders for a few hours.

Drawing Brody-1 off by herself, he asked her to bend down so he could speak to her quietly. When he walked away, she returned to Breen with a new determination.

As he turned to lead the attack on the first building, his way was blocked.

“I go with you,” Rat said. It was not a question, although tentative, it was a simple fact delivered with no nonsense.

“Are your people in Number 1 Building safe?” A fast question covered his relief.

“They good. We fight,” Rat said. She tucked stray strands of her blond hair back under her helmet.

“Yes we fight, you and I like always.” He lifted his hand to her shoulder and squeezed. “The last of Battle Group 301,” he said feeling out of character. He knew she understood.

He made no comment about her lapel pin, twisted lightning bolts of gold and bright blue. She never wore jewelry, whoever belonged to that must be important to her.

She turned to lead, his hand falling away. Her curious sideways gate pulled him along in her wake. Rat opened her eyes to the tears, letting the slight wind dry them as she walked. Her belly no longer hurt.

Kimraig noticed Leader Sala separate herself from the group. There was no doubt of her purpose, as she stopped halfway to Rat. They both nodded, acknowledging each other. Rat eyes stayed with Salas until they were abreast, and then snapped back to her purpose. Her hand quivered as if to reach out, finally falling back to her side.

Their small Battle Group entered the Annex first, confirming LaJay’s report. No fresh blood for the Ergots, they were hidden somewhere. The doors remained sealed from their initial attack days before.