Mercenaries (30 page)

CASSIDY hung upside down, both booted feet braced on the underside of the fighter's starboard wing. Once again, she threw herself against the mag restraints. The muscles in her neck, back, and shoulders howled as she fought to break the magnetic seal that bound her to the wing. Sweat rolled up her forehead, and tendrils of blond hair wafted around her sticky face. Between the fight and the sweaty roll on the ground, her braids were history. And if it hadn't been for her suit gloves, her wrists would have been in no better shape. The cable would have chewed right through her skin.

This just wasn't working. The mag seal was too strong.

With a grunt of frustration Cassidy let up the pressure and allowed her feet to fall back to the ground. Her shoulders ached so savagely, she wondered if she'd torn something.

Panting, wrists bound over her head, she rested a moment and considered her options. Rune was still busy in her cockpit, trying to get the main batteries charging. He'd stopped cursing a half hour ago, which probably meant he'd succeeded.

Figured. Even her equipment couldn't resist him.

Cassidy's stomach chose that moment for a growl. At least between the two fighters, they had enough rations for a few days. Rune had said his stores were intact, and hers had taken no damage. She licked her dry lips and considered abandoning her pride long enough to ask him for something to drink.

And when the hell had she started thinking of him by his first name? Yet another bad sign he was getting under her skin.

She sighed and rolled her aching shoulders. She'd put her armor back on, and now drying sweat was making all kinds of uncomfortable places itch. At least the breeze was relatively cool as it blew into her face, carrying the scent of alien vegetation and . . . something rank.

Cassidy stiffened, straightening in her bonds as she stared across the lake toward a stand of ferny alien trees.

Something was moving in, out there in the brush.

Her sensors showed several massive life forms advancing toward her in a way that suggested more than casual curiosity.

What the hell are those things?
Cassidy asked her computer through her mental link with it.

The colonists call them caravores
, the comp responded.
Five of them, ranging in weight between five hundred and a thousand kilos. Data suggests a hunting pack consisting of four females and a lone male.

Damn, the things were huge.
A hunting pack?

That figured. She raised her voice in a bellow. “Hey, Rune—get out here! We've got company!”

Enemies were one thing. Getting eaten was something else again.

He stuck his head out of the canopy he'd replaced, stared toward the woods, and cursed. Vaulting out of the cockpit, he dropped to the ground beside her as the restraints around her wrists fell away, probably at a command from his computer. He looked in the direction of the advancing predators, no doubt doing a sensor scan. Judging from the way his mouth tightened, he didn't like the results any better than she did. “I have no desire to take five of those things on with nothing more than a knife. Better get in the fighter. It's the only shelter we've got.”

She jumped for the wing and chinned herself up. “Yeah, well, if you hadn't triggered that Tach Pulse, we'd have beamers!”

“I didn't know anything about those . . . things. What are they?”

She scrambled for the cockpit as he hoisted himself after her. “Caravores. Apparently they're something like a cross between a tiger and a bear. Meaner than hell.”

He strode ahead of her and dropped into the cockpit first, then lifted a hand to help her in. “Sit in my lap. We're going to have to get friendly until they go away.”

Cassidy hesitated a moment, but it wasn't as if she had a hell of a lot of alternatives. With a sigh she climbed in and settled on top of him while he dragged the canopy closed and activated the mag seal. At least that still worked.

For a moment neither spoke, too busy looking out the canopy as the caravores slipped from the trees and headed toward the fighter.

“Good God,” Cassidy murmured. “Look at the size of those things!” Though easily as big as an old Earth grizzly bear, they moved with a liquid grace that was more feline than anything else. Their bodies were long and sleek, with pointed wolflike muzzles, and their fur ranged from a bloodred striped with slash markings to a black so deep it was almost blue.

One of them stopped to roar, the sound clearly audible even through the canopy. Its gaping jaws revealed a mouth full of teeth that looked like daggers.

Rune and Cassidy exchanged appalled looks. “Oh, God,” she breathed. “If they break open the canopy, we're dead.”

“
T
HIS fighter was built to withstand interstellar dogfights,” Rune pointed out. “I doubt a bunch of animals are going to be able to crack it open.”

“I'd agree with you if you hadn't shot me down,” Cassidy told him tartly. “Considering the crash, I'm not sure it's still up to specs.”

He winced. “Good point.”

Something roared. Something else answered. The fighter rocked on its wheels.

“Leave the wing alone, you bastard,” Cassidy growled as her sensors reported that one of the caravores had stood on its haunches to give her craft a testing shake.

“The brakes on?” Rune asked, tightening his grip around her waist.

She licked her dry lips. “Yeah. I don't think we're going to go anywhere—shit!” Her heart lunged into her throat as they rocked violently.

One of the caravores has jumped on the port wing,
her comp told her.

The craft shook as the huge animal walked up the wing toward the cockpit. Eyes wide, Cassidy met Rune's grim gaze. He lifted his right leg beneath her and reached down to pull his combat dagger from the top of his boot.

“I don't suppose you've got another one of those tucked away somewhere?” she asked. Her own blade was still lost in the vegetation where she'd dropped it during their fight. She'd rather have a beamer, but just now she'd take anything she could get.

Without a word he lifted his left knee. She reached down into the top of his boot and found the hilt of the second knife. It felt cool and heavy in her hand.

“THIS blows the airlock,” she told him as her sensors reported the beast had stopped to sniff a weld. “It's one thing to fight humans—hell, even aliens—but something that
eats
people . . .”

Rune flashed her a look cold with determination. “They're not going to touch you, Cassidy. I've claimed you, and I defend my own.”

She had never felt a need to be defended by anyone or anything. Yet looking into his savage expression, Cassidy realized the statement wasn't hyperbole. He'd defend her to the death.

She frowned, caught between gratitude and discomfort. “Rune, with your strength you could probably take one of those things—but
five
?”

His mouth tightened, and a muscle flexed in his jaw. He knew as well as she did how impossible it would be. “I'll think of something.” Then he sighed and gave his knife a restless toss, looking up at the canopy. “If necessary. With any luck, it won't be. We should . . .”

A head twice the size of hers appeared overhead and looked down at them through the transparent laminate with feral hunger. Despite herself, Cassidy flinched. “Holy God!”

A massive paw planted right in the center of the thick canopy. Daggerlike claws screeched as the caravores tried to dig through it. As one, Rune and Cassidy winced at the grating sound.

The fighter rocked again.

Another caravore has leaped onto the ship,
her computer reported.

Blessed anger replaced her fear. “This is ridiculous!” Cassidy glared upward at the beast. “If I had my beamer, I'd burn those furry sons of bitches into barbeque.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately neither of us has a beamer.”

She aimed a hot glare at him over her shoulder. “Thanks to you and your fuckin' Tach Pulse! What were you thinking, using something like that on a planet with man-eating predators?”

“I wasn't aware this planet
had
man-eating predators!” Rune snapped back. “Our database on this colony consisted of little more than the fact that it was habitable.”

Which only made sense, she supposed. Rune was working for the invaders, while Cassidy had been hired by the New Galvestonians who'd colonized Dallas. Naturally, their information would be more complete. “It was still a dumb thing to do,” she grumbled.

“If I hadn't fired that Pulse, you'd have shot me. Or vice versa.” The caravores gave the canopy a smacking blow with one huge paw. Rune's arm tightened protectively around her. “In any case, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

“Personally, I think I'd rather be shot than eaten!”

A grim smile tilted his mouth. “I didn't realize those were the choices.”

Something groaned as the fighter shifted hard to one side. One of the caravores was pushing up on the starboard wing. Cassidy clutched at Rune's arm and cursed ripely. The caravore over their heads began raking at the canopy like a dog trying to dig up a bone.

“You'd look really good as a rug,” Cassidy told one. “I'd skin you slowly and display you in my cabin.”

Rune chuckled suddenly, his breath warm against the side of her face. “It is galling to sit here like this, helpless.” The fighter shook. “But there is no honor in being eaten, either. As much as I'd like to take a knife to those things, we are safer in here.”

The caravores climbed on top of the canopy, reared, and slammed their forelegs into the glass. Cassidy swallowed a yelp.

“I don't suppose you have any chemical grenades?” Rune asked.

She licked her lips. “No. Well, I did, but they all had powered detonators.”

The caravores flopped down and started trying to gnaw at the glass. The fighter rocked again as one of the other animals advanced up the wing to the canopy. This one was stark black, its eyes a hungry yellow. It, too, started raking and biting at the shield.

Cassidy eyed them. One suddenly threw back its head and roared, taking a swipe at the other with its claws. “I feel like a package of rations in here, Rune.” She blew out a breath. “Time for a change of subject. So—just why the hell do you want to marry me? Don't you have any women on that ship of yours?”

He lifted a brow. “You want to talk about that now?”

She looked up at the caravores and grimaced. “Beats wondering about how much pressure that canopy can take.”

“Good point.” Rune settled her more comfortably against him. Cassidy braced her back against his chest. Surprisingly, his solid warmth was comforting. Enemy or not, he made a damn good ally just now. “To answer your question, men outnumber women on a Dharani Tribeship five to one.”

She turned to look around at him in astonishment, so astonished she didn't glance up when one of the caravores jumped on the canopy again. “You're kidding me!
Why?
”

Rune shrugged, watching the animals prowling overhead. “We spent two hundred years trapped on the wrong side of the Tormod Front, cut off from the rest of human space by those damned aliens. The ships in our convoy were huge—intended to transport an entire population, along with everything we'd need to set up a self-sustaining colony.”

“How many ships?”

“Ten of them, each with a population of five thousand. Most average twice that now.” He grimaced. “Population pressure is a continuous problem.”

“So what did you do when the Tormod started moving against the humans?”

Rune sighed. “We happened to be crossing a quadrant that was already heavily populated by other alien races. We tried appealing to them for help, but they refused. Mass starvation had already begun to set in when we discovered two of those worlds were fighting a war.”

“So you became mercenaries.”

“It was that or die.”

One side of the fighter suddenly lifted a meter in the air, then dropped with a crunch. Cassidy swallowed a yelp as the two caravores above them tumbled off the canopy. “Well, that's some improvement, anyway.” The ship shook. “More or less.” She returned her attention to his story. “I still don't understand how you got from there to a predominantly male population.”

“My leg is going to sleep.” Rune shifted under her, drawing a thigh up. She obligingly shifted on his lap, seeking another position. “That's better. Come here.” He drew her against him once more. “We were fighting aliens who were much stronger than humans, and our tech wasn't advanced enough to make up the difference. Many of us were killed. We turned to genetic engineering and the new nanotechnology we got from the aliens, hoping to improve our chances. Because our survival depended on creating the most effective warriors we could, we began producing more males.”