Wizard (35 page)

A great weight fell on her, and she cried out. She screamed when she felt the sand press against her, then began to vomit.

“That’s good,” Hautbois said, easing up enough to allow Robin to turn her head. “I wish I’d thought of that. All that moisture will keep them away.”

Moisture, moisture … Robin heard only that word on a conscious level and quickly blocked everything but that thought. The sand was wet. Wet would keep the monsters away. Sweat, weep, spit, vomit … any of those things were suddenly the smart thing to do. She hugged the sand and thought
about how wonderfully wet it was.

“What’s the matter? Is she having a seizure?” Cirocco called out.

“I think so,” Hautbois said. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Just keep her down. It still may not see us.”

Robin heard the sound of a buzz bomb high and far away. She turned her head enough to see it come into sight over the edge of the dune, still at altitude. It turned sharply, showing a swept-wing profile, and began to come toward them.

“That’s that,” Cirocco said. “Everyone stay low. It’s not at a good angle to hurt us.”

They watched the buzz bomb in growing doubt until it became clear that the creature was not going to make a low pass. It cruised over them at five or six hundred meters, going much more slowly than Robin remembered from the last time.

“That thing looks odd,” Gaby said, daring to sit up a little.

“Never mind that,” Cirocco said, standing to scan the air. “It’s going to come back around. Gaby, keep a watch for more, and the rest of you start digging. I’d like a wide hole two meters deep, but I’d settle for one. It’s going to be tough in this sand. Throw some water around before you dig. Oh, and if anyone has even the slightest urge to pee, do it now, don’t be shy. It’s useless in your bladder.” Cirocco stopped talking when she saw the look on Robin’s face and realized the condition of the younger woman’s pants was not intentional.

Robin had disgraced herself. She thanked the Great Mother that none of her sisters was here to see it, but it was small consolation. These six were her sisters now, for the duration of the trip and probably beyond.

But things are never so bad they cannot get worse. Robin appreciated the truth of that principle when she tried to move and found she could not. Hautbois’s statement—certainly meant as a facesaving out for Robin—had come true; she was paralyzed.

For a moment she thought she would surely lose her mind. She was sprawled bonelessly, face
down, on the hateful sands of Tethys, a surface she feared so much that she had possibly betrayed the whole group by her inability to touch it. But instead of insanity, she achieved a fatalistic detachment. Mindless, serene, she heard the sounds of frenzied activity and understood little of it. It was no longer important if a wraith emerged beneath her and tore her apart. There were grains of sand and the taste of vomit in her mouth. She felt a trickle of sweat run down her nose. She could see a few meters of sand and her own arm extended across it. She listened.

Cirocco: “Since they can’t get too close to us, they have to use some kind of medium-range weapon. They used to chunk rocks, but in the last ten years they’ve used some kind of spear thrower or bow and arrow.”

Chris: “That sounds bad. We’re not going to get much cover in this sand.”

Cirocco: “It’s good and bad. They were pretty mean shots with those rocks. They’re built … well, you haven’t seen them, and they’re hard to describe, but they were very good at throwing rocks. But they’re basically cowardly, and they had to get in pretty close to throw them. With the arrows they can stand farther back.”

Hautbois: “Now tell us the
bad
news, Rocky.”

Cirocco: “That’s it. The good news is that they’re lousy shots with arrows. They can’t aim them. But they’d rather stay back and take potshots.”

Gaby: “They make up for it by shooting a
lot
of arrows.”

Hautbois: “I knew there’d be something.”

There was the familiar staccato roar of a buzz bomb some distance away.

Gaby: “I still say there’s something weird about that creature. I can’t make it out, but it looks like a swelling on its back.”

Hornpipe: “I see it, too.”

Cirocco: “Your eyes are better than mine.”

For a time there were just the sounds of breathing and occasionally the rustle of someone crawling
over sand. Once Robin felt someone brush against her leg. Then Hornpipe shouted a warning. Something fell to the sand in Robin’s range of vision. She had been staring at her thumbnail; now she shifted her eyes and looked at the intruder. It was a thin shaft of glass, half a meter long. One end was notched, the other buried in the sand.

“Anybody hit?” It was Cirocco’s voice. There were a few negative replies. “They just shot those in the air. They must be behind that dune. In a while they’ll get up the nerve to look over it, and they’ll get a little more accurate. Get your slingshots ready.”

Shortly after that Robin heard the twang of the Titanides’ weapons.

Chris: “I think you hit that one, Valiha. Oops! Those were closer.”

Cirocco: “Damn it, look at Robin. Can’t we do anything about that? It must be hellish.”

Robin had heard the last flight of arrows hitting the sand, felt a few grains rain on her legs. It was not a matter of importance. She heard more slitherings, and a hand grasped the arrow she had been looking at, pulled it out, and tossed it away. Gaby’s face appeared, a few centimeters from her own.

“How are you making it, kid?” She took Robin’s hand and squeezed it, then stroked her cheek. “Would it be easier if you could see things better? I can’t think of any way to protect you, or I’d use it for all of us.”

“No,” Robin answered, from a great distance.

“I wish … shit.” Gaby hit the ground with her fist. “I feel helpless. I can imagine how you must feel.” When Robin made no answer, she leaned close again.

“Listen, do you mind if I take your gun for a while?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Do you have any of those rocket slugs left? With the explosive tips?”

“Three clips.”

“I’ll need them, too. I’m going to try to pot a buzz bomb if it ever gets down low enough. You just hang on and try not to think of it. We’re going to make a dash for the cable pretty soon.”

“I’m all right,” Robin said, but Gaby was gone.

“And I’ll take you,” Hautbois said, from behind her. She felt the Titanide’s hand come around her and briefly touch her cheek, which was wet. “Do not begrudge the tears, little one. Not only is it good for the soul, but every drop protects us all.”

“Just how smart do you think those things are?” Chris asked, watching the lone buzz bomb bank to the left for another high circling pass.

Gaby looked at it and scowled.

“It never pays to underestimate the intelligence of anything you meet in Gaea. A good rule of thumb is to assume it’s at least as smart as you and twice as mean.”

“Then what’s it doing up there?”

Gaby patted the barrel of her borrowed weapon. “Maybe it heard about the one Robin shot down.” She looked at the sky once more and shook her head. “But I don’t think that’s the whole reason. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.” She looked at Cirocco.

“Well, you’ve convinced me. I don’t like it either.”

Chris looked from one to the other, but neither had anything more to say.

Above, the buzz bomb continued to circle. It seemed to be waiting for something, but for what? Periodically the arrows of the wraiths rained down in flights of three or four dozen. Fired almost straight into the air, the arrows had lost their lethal speed by the time they reached the ground. One had hit Hornpipe in the hind leg. It penetrated five or six centimeters into the muscle: painful, but easily plucked out since the point was not barbed. The barrages seemed designed to keep them pinned down more than anything else. Chris had read somewhere that in a war, millions of rounds were expended for just that purpose.

But if the wraiths wanted them to stay put, there must be a reason for it. They were preparing some surprise, or a larger force was on the way. In either case Chris thought the logical move was to make a dash for the cable. They surely would have done so if not for the presence of the buzz bomb.

“Do you think the wraiths and the bombs are working together?” he asked.

Gaby looked at him and did not answer immediately.

“I certainly doubt it,” she said finally. “So far as I know, the wraiths have never worked with anybody but other wraiths, and not very well then.” But when she looked back at the sky, she seemed thoughtful. She caressed the butt of Robin’s gun and trained it on the distant target, keeping it in her sights, coaxing it down with soft, cajoling whispers.

* * *

“The arrows have stopped,” Valiha said.

Chris had been aware of it for several minutes but had not mentioned it in the illogical fear that the barrage would begin again out of pure spite. But it was true; for the half hour since they had dug their community foxhole the arrows had come in at one- or two-minute intervals, and now they were not.

“Maybe I’m a pessimist,” Gaby said, “but I don’t think I like that either.”

“They could be gone,” Hornpipe ventured.

“And I could be a half-assed Titanide.”

Chris could contain himself no longer. There was no point anymore in reminding himself that Gaby and Cirocco were much older, wiser, and more experienced in this sort of thing than he was.

“I think we should make a run for it,” he said. “Hornpipe is already hurt. If we wait for them to start shooting again, it could get much worse.” He waited, but though everyone was looking at him, no one said anything. He plunged ahead. “This is just a feeling, but I’m worried that the buzz bomb is waiting for something. Possibly reinforcements.”

He might have expected the Wizard to call him on that one. He had nothing to base it on except the fact that the buzz bombs had acted in concert once, in the attack that had killed Psaltery.

To his surprise, Cirocco and Gaby were looking at each other, and they both looked troubled. He realized that beyond a certain base of knowledge, it was impossible for even the Wizard to know just what Gaea might throw at them next. So many things were possible, and even the things you thought you knew could change overnight as Gaea created new creatures, changed the rules that governed the old ones.

“That’s a very lucky man saying that, Rocky,” Gaby said.

“I know, I know. I’m not discounting his feelings at this point. I don’t have much more to go on, myself. But it could be that’s just what that bastard up there is waiting for. No matter how fast we go, he’ll have time for at least one shot at us, and the ground out there is flat as a pancake.”

“I don’t think I’ll be slowed down,” Hornpipe said.

“I can take care of Robin,” Hautbois said.

“Damn it, it’s you Titanides who have the most to lose out there,” Cirocco shouted. “I think I could dig into that sand in a few seconds, but when you people lie down flat, your butts stick up a meter and a half.”

“I’d still rather make a run for it,” Hornpipe said. “I don’t fancy lying here and becoming a pincushion.”

Chris was beginning to think no decision would be reached. Cirocco, faced with two unreasonable choices, had suddenly lost the assurance she had gained during the trip. He did not really think that leadership, in any sense but that of fostering morale, was her strong point. Gaby needed time to gear herself up to assume a role that was basically distasteful to her. Robin was paralyzed, and the Titanides had never shown a tendency to dispute the commands of first Gaby, then Cirocco.

As for Chris, he had never been the captain of his childhood sports teams or the one who decided where he and his friends would go or what they would do when they got there. In his troubled adulthood
no one had ever asked him to be the leader of anything. But an urge to take control was growing in him. He began to think that if something were not resolved very quickly, this might be his hour at last.

And then, in an instant, everything was changed. There was a deafening explosion, as if lightning had struck no more than ten meters away, followed by the hollow, receding rumble of a buzz bomb.

Everyone flattened reflexively. When Chris dared look up, he saw the silent approach of three more, skimming the tops of the dunes, shimmering and unreal in the heat-distorted air. He pressed his cheek to the sand but kept his eyes on them as they blossomed from points bisected by lines into voracious mouths with enormous wingspans. The wings had a slight camber, so that viewed head-on, they looked like frozen black bats.

They passed overhead at an altitude of fifty meters. Chris saw something fall from one of them. It was a cylindrical object that wobbled through the air to land behind a dune to his left. When the fountain of flame appeared, Chris could feel its heat on his skin.

“We’re being bombed!” Cirocco cried out. She had half risen. Gaby tried to pull her down, but she was pointing to a third flight of buzz bombs coming from the northeast. They were far too high for the ramming tactic, and just before they were directly overhead, they lifted slightly, exposing ebony underbellies with landing legs drawn up tight. More of the deadly eggs were released. Hornpipe combined with Gaby to pull Cirocco down just as the bombs exploded, sending a shower of sand over the prone bodies.

“You were right!” Gaby shouted over her shoulder as she leaped to her feet. Chris took little comfort from it. He got up, turned to find Valiha, and was lifted bodily before he quite knew what was happening.

“To the cable!” Valiha called. Chris almost dropped his water gun as she sprang forward. He looked over his shoulder and saw a river of flame running down from the dune behind them, and out of it emerged all the denizens of hell.

There were hundreds of them, and most were on fire. The wraiths were disorganized clusters of
tentacles, tangled snarls that bore no resemblance to anything Chris had seen. They were the size of large dogs. They scuttled like crabs, and just as rapidly, all at once with no wind-up. They were translucent, and so were the flames, so that, burning, they became writhing areas of violent light that cast no shadows. Chris’s ears were tortured with an almost supersonic screeching and metallic
pings
like red-hot metal cooling.