The IX (20 page)

Marcus made his way down the steps to the speaking area. Once there, he addressed the table. “Although this talk of technology, replicators, and strange weaponry confuses me, I am still a soldier. It’s the simple things we overlook that can often make the most difference. For example, you say the Horde has besieged this city for a number of years, and for the most part has concentrated its efforts on one particular point. A sound strategy. Yet when I saw the gates in action, I was stunned. That a solid edifice can be manipulated to allow objects to pass through it is . . . well . . . incredible. Magic, we would have called it in my day. And to a military man, an obvious weak point. Yet the Horde does not focus there, nor indeed on any of the other entrances. Why?”

An elderly woman sitting at the high table cleared her throat. Smiling, she inclined her head, first toward Marcus and then the rest of the room. “Hello. For those who don’t know me yet, my name’s Rosa Sophia, and I am responsible for the administration of this once great city. While this can be a burdensome chore, it has the benefit of allowing me to spend considerable time in the library. Marcus came to see me yesterday, and I was intrigued by his question. So I did some digging. I think I know exactly why the Horde ignores the gates. Here, let me share this with you.”

She paused to pick up a handheld tablet. After tapping away for a moment, the air above the central dais began to shimmer. “I’m just loading a news report into the holo-display. It relates to an event that occurred in Rhomane some one hundred years before any of those monsters ever arrived. It’s quite revealing.”

An image clarified to show a small dart-shaped object impacting against a southeast quadrant of the wall. A blinding flash ensued, followed by a shockwave that encroached upon a suddenly visible shield. As the glare died down, a reporter’s voice could be heard in the background:

“That was the awful moment when the Shivan-Estre met her end. For reasons as yet unknown, her navigational beacon malfunctioned. Appearing from rip-space only seventy decans from the city wall, its pilots were helpless to prevent the inevitable catastrophe.

As with all such vessels, the Shivan-Estre was constructed of super-dense lydium. If not for the fact that Rhomane’s own precincts are made of that same fermionic matter, the results would have been far worse than the death of the two crewmen on board and a bright light in the sky. We are going live now to. . .”

The scene paused, and Rosa replayed the moment of the crash several times. “What you are seeing might explain the reason for their interest in that spot. Remember, lydium is incredibly compact. The Horde cannot interpenetrate it. Nothing can. Unless, perhaps, it has already been weakened by something else made of the same material traveling at super-high velocity. As has been highlighted today, we’re not exactly sure how they see or sense things. Do they perceive a minute weakness in an otherwise unblemished obstruction and view it as an opportunity?”

Saul was delighted. “But that’s fantastic news. Not only does it fit with what we’ve been discussing today, but it gives us an opportunity to prepare for a possible breach.” He turned to Marcus. “The southeast sector is comprised of disused utility buildings. In fact, the environs are totally uninhabited now, and have been turned over to farming. As a defender of our walls, how would you address this problem?”

Marcus thought for a moment. “Speaking plainly, Commander, I would need to view the area in question to give you a definitive answer. But as a soldier, I think the solution is quite straightforward. Ensure this chink in the armor is saturated in iron. Smelt it. Paint it all over the place if you have to. Use the wonders of the technology at your command to fabricate all manner of traps. Just make sure that if those beasts are successful in breaching the flaw, they cannot avoid walking face-first into the bane of their existence.”

“Succinctly put, Marcus. Thank you. I like the way you think. I’ll arrange for Mohammed or Shannon to give you a guided tour of the facility later today. Then you can give us your recommendations.”

As Marcus made his way back to his seat, Saul drew the attention of each member of the top table. “Any other issues before we get onto the distasteful part of today’s proceedings?”

Each high council member shook their head.

Saul then asked the same question of the department heads within the auditorium. Again, the answers came back negative.

The mood darkened, and Saul noted the looks of disgust among the Caledonian clan leaders who sat together in a tight knot, halfway down the steps.

Depressing a button on the console in front of him, he said, “You may bring Captain Houston and Lieutenant Smith in now.”

A door opened in the opposite wall. The two men, covered in a multitude of bruises, walked inside, flanked by a pair of sentinels. Once they reached the circle, they halted.

As chilly as the atmosphere was, it got a whole lot colder as Saul made eye contact with the accused. He allowed them to stew in silence for a full minute before speaking.

“Captain Houston. Lieutenant Smith. You both know why you’re here, so I won’t labor the point. We had hoped the divide that existed between First and Second Platoons had been left behind on Earth. I know for a fact several of my officers went to great lengths to emphasize to you why
the affiliations you had there do not exist here. I was hoping to see a superior level of maturity, as demonstrated by your fellow travelers from the legionnaire and highland contingents. Sadly, tragically, that doesn’t appear to be the case.

“We have listened to the evidence of the officers and men of First Platoon, and have spoken for many hours with the warriors of Clans Buchan and Calhoun. While it cannot be established for certain who among your faction pulled the trigger, we have no doubt that Lexington Fox’s death was not accidental. The joint maneuvers performed by him that day were textbook. He acquitted himself with a degree of professionalism and honor that is sorely lacking in the pair of you. Everyone should have made it home safely.”

Saul stood made his way to the speakers’ circle.

Maintaining eye contact with the two disgraced cavalry officers, he growled, “We are no fools. Although we cannot prove conclusively his death was murder, we know it was. You know it was. This is Arden. We will not tolerate your petty mentality here. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”Saul bellowed so suddenly that the two men staggered back in surprise.

“Yes, Sir.” they repeated in unison.

“I really hope you do, gentlemen.” Saul came up and stood almost toe to toe with them. “Because we can’t afford to waste a single life. That’s the only reason you are still breathing on this occasion. Now listen very carefully, because I’m only going to say this once.”

Saul took a step away, the better to hold their attention. “It has always been the case that an officer is responsible for the actions of those under his command. That tenet will apply to you in a very literal sense from now on. Your men had better learn to walk on eggshells, because if an ‘accident’ like this ever happens again, be in no doubt,
you
will be held directly responsible. There will be no debate, no trial, no appeal. We won’t waste a bullet on you. You’re either a part of our family, or you belong to the Horde. Have you heard what I said and understood its implications fully?”

“Yes, Sir,” they snapped.

“Let it be recorded as such within the minutes of today’s meeting.” Saul’s face grew darker. “Custodians? Please escort these men back to their rooms. They are to be stripped of their weapons and held in confinement until we determine what other restrictions to place on them. The same goes for every soldier within Second Platoon. No arguments.”

“Certainly, Commander,” chirped the nearest of the constructs. “We will facilitate your instructions immediately.”

Before Houston or Smith had the opportunity to turn, Saul added, “While we’d never send you out on a mission unarmed, you’ll have to earn the right to carry any form of firearm within these walls again. And don’t worry, with what I’ve got planned for you, there’ll be plenty of opportunity to show what you’re really made of.”

He turned his back and dismissed them.

*

“What do you make of that, lads?” Cathal MacNoimhin hissed. “A case of their hand being forced, or what?”

“Och, Cameron’s no fool,” Searc whispered. “He knows there wasn’t enough to pin it on either of those skelpies, even though it must have been carried out under the ass-wipe’s instructions. You saw the way he had it in for the lad ever since they arrived.”

“Do you think he’d do it, though?” Cathal said. “Cameron? Would he actually feed them to the devils?”

“I’ve got no doubt the man has balls of steel,” Kohrk Underwood replied. He watched the commander resume his seat at the high table. “Now he’s involved his own honor, he has to show himself strong. And from what I’ve heard, he’d tip them over the bloody wall himself.”

“Doesn’t stop
us
from making a plan or two, though, does it?” Searc suggested.

Cathal ushered his men closer and lowered his voice even further. “What did you have in mind, Searc?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Gelling Together

 
“If you could try to keep together,” Mohammed called, “we’ve still got a way to go yet, and I wouldn’t want you missing out on your evening meal.”

He glanced back to see how the small party was faring. Marcus Brutus, together with two of his centurions, Decimus Martinas and Tiberius Tacitus, appeared as fresh as daisies. This didn’t surprise Mohammed. From what he remembered, legionnaires were renowned for marching countless miles through all sorts of terrain. It wouldn’t have surprised him if they viewed this excursion as nothing more than a brief stroll, something to be taken by all their members before the real day’s work began. Cathal MacNoimhin and Stained-With-Blood also appeared relaxed. Mohammed listened in to snippets of their conversation as they whiled away the miles, chatting about their respective lives and tribes back home.

Behind them, ten yards further back, the two disgraced cavalry officers limped along beneath their own personal clouds of woe.

I suppose it must be painful, really. Searc’s men did give them quite a hiding before they returned. Houston and Smith were fortunate Red and his clan were there to prevent things from getting too out of hand. Pity. It would have helped settle an ugly issue once and for all.
Aloud, he urged, “C’mon, gentlemen, keep up. Not too far now before we come to the perimeter of the outer zone.”

“Why are we walking anyway?” Smith complained. “This place is huge. Why couldn’t we have just used the transporter device, or a skimmer? Or our horses, come to that?”

“Because you need to get an appreciation of what you’ll be defending, young man,” Mohammed replied, “and of the distances involved should you find yourself stuck out here on foot. And to be honest, we reserve our resources for more important use.”

“So, it’s about five miles from the central complex to the city wall?” Marcus asked.

“Yes, that’s right. Who told you?”

“No one. We’re used to counting off the distance as we march. Helps you keep track of things quite accurately. I’d say we’ve traveled well over four miles already. And, judging from the size of those cow-like beasts in the distance, there’s roughly half a mile left.”

“Very good!” Mohammed was impressed. “And you do that as a matter of course?”

“Usually. It’s also handy if you have to direct archers or catapult captains. Understanding your ranges can give you the edge in a fight. As it will do here.”

“You think so?”

“Most certainly.” Casting ahead, Marcus explained, “We know that if the Horde breaches the wall, they will do so in
that
general area. At the moment, you can only spare one of the futuristic guns that Lieutenant McDonald was speaking about. A . . . cannon, yes?”

“The .50 millimeter? That’s correct.”

“So we will have to rely on a multitude of smaller weapons to prevent a flood of invaders. If we mark this area properly, and station ballistae, scorpios, archers, and so forth, at different distances from the breach, it will allow us to maintain a steady rate of fire without endangering our men.”

“As in a tiered response?”

“Precisely. And if the wind is in our favor, you’ll see something quite exceptional. When I was in Africa, we used to heat sand and fling it at our enemy. The damn stuff gets everywhere. In your hair, inside armor, on your clothes. And it burns like the seven hells. Of course, on this occasion, I’d want to mix a healthy dose of rust or other iron flecks in with the sand. From what I’ve seen, the results will be quite explosive. And we wouldn’t have to resort to these bullets you’re so concerned about. We could hold them in reserve should our efforts be in vain.”

The party came to a full stop as the weight of Marcus’s words sank in.

Eyes wide with excitement, Mohammed keyed a message into his tablet. Looking toward Houston, he explained, “I’ve just thought of an excellent project that will get your men out of confinement and keep them gainfully employed for a day or two. Sandbagging! Under Marcus’s direction, they’ll stockpile a combination of soil and rust to ensure the catapults have plenty of ammunition should the need ever arise.”

Pleased with himself, Mohammed resumed their trek toward the utility buildings. A number of solar powered lights activated as they walked, casting a warm amber glow over the surrounding fields.

“What are those creatures anyway?” Cathal asked.

“Ardenese cattle and livestock, left here to help facilitate our infrastructure. Believe it or not, we’ve also got a number of sheep, goats, and a small herd of precious dairy cattle. Like your horses, they were brought through in respective intakes. They’ve adapted quite well, but have to be kept segregated. They have their own pastures to the north of the city.”

“And these?”