Mission To Mahjundar (36 page)

“He was asking me why you couldn't go fastlink again and get status on the evac,” Johnny said, voice low, back to the staircase. “I told him not only no but hell no, and don't you even think about it, you hear me? You aren't allowed to do it under field conditions more than once in forty eight hours, so don't try to get past me on this one.”
 

Mike was touched by his cousin’s vehemence. “I promise. I don't have any desire to scramble my central nervous system on our last mission.”
 

“Yeah, well, good.” The sergeant, red faced and apparently embarrassed to have shown so much concern, took his blaster and resumed his post on the balcony.
 

“Someday you must tell me more about what you and he did on other missions,” Shalira told him from her perch on the couch.
 

“Remind me you want to hear more about my illustrious career once I've officially retired, okay?” She had no idea how much editing he’d have to do to render his past fit for civilian consumption
.
Even his unclassified missions had a high level of gore and unpleasantness. “Today’s not the day.”

“How are we going to stand watch tonight?” she asked. “I’ve only seen a few torches in the tower.”
 

“We'll be better off with our night sight. Remember Johnny, Everett and I have enhanced vision.” Contemplating the range of tactics the enemy might employ, Mike frowned. “I don't think they’ll attack us tonight, though. Obviously we aren't going anywhere. And we've caused a high casualty rate whenever they did attack in the daylight. They don't have a clue how long we can keep using the blasters, or what else we may have.”
 

“The Nathlemeru didn't seem to like the idea of being in the temple at night, anyway.” Johnny’s comment drifted in from his post out on the balcony. “Only old Three Feathers, and he's gone.”
 

“Probably replaced by someone even uglier.” Mike went to stare out the open doorway, across the roof. “We won't count on a quiet night, but it sure would be nice. I’m guessing the big assault will come tomorrow.”

“I wish your Space Marines would arrive first,” Shalira said. “It would make things so much easier.”

“The only easy day was yesterday, ma’am,” Johnny told her, leaning inside the room for a moment. “Old adage in our branch of the service. We’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

The night passed uneventfully, if not quietly. Mike could see a huge glow from many torches out by the front of the temple, and the drumming persisted all night long, changing rhythm from time to time, but never stopping. Saium interrogated the priest again and was assured the sound was accompaniment for the burial ritual, not a summons for reinforcements. The defenders managed some restless sleep, in staggered shifts. Shalira slept the night through, assisted by an inject from Johnny’s medkit, but had nightmares from which Mike would rouse her when she grew agitated. Not totally awake even then, she’d settle into his arms and sink into deeper sleep as if comforted by his presence.
 

He and Johnny had a whispered conversation about the advisability of using their one-man antigrav disk. Johnny volunteered to conduct a reconnaissance run to the bottom of the cliff under cover of darkness.

“I hear what you’re saying,” Mike told his cousin, “but I’m reluctant to split our forces. And I’m concerned about the charge in the disk, how may runs it can make. I’d rather keep it at full charge up here, in case we have to do a last minute evac. I’m counting on the extraction team showing up in the morning and saving our bacon. Nikolai
has
to be getting close to the planet by now.”

“You’re the boss.” Johnny rubbed the back of his neck and stretched. “Those individual antigrav units have been known to short out just when a team needs them most, on more than one occasion. I heard scuttlebutt that Command was going to abandon the technology, cancel all future procurements unless fixes were made to improve the reliability.”

“Right, I heard the same thing. The disks got rushed into the field without enough testing. I’m not taking the risk until I’m left with no other choices.”

A little after dawn, the entire group congregated around the remaining food, except for Saium, who stayed at his post. Shalira carried a plate of fruit, rolls and a cup of the wine downstairs to him while the three Sectors operators conferred.

 
“All right, it's been more than twenty-four hours. So where the hell is the extraction team?” Everett was right in Mike's face, more belligerent than he’d been previously. “Don’t you think maybe you ought to go on the roof and fastlink again? The situation is getting dicey. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re low on ammo.”
 

“You know damn well I can't fastlink again so soon.” Unperturbed, Mike took a swallow of the wine, Johnny having given them headclear since the alcoholic beverage was the only liquid in the tower. “I'm sure the
Andy
got the message and is coming as fast as she can. I told them we’d found you and you had the intel Command is desperate for. Once he’s in orbit, Nikolai won't waste a second getting us out of here.”
 

“Major!” Saium's urgent shout carried all the way from the lower floor.
 

Shalira burst up the stairs, eyes wide with fright. “You need to see this.”

“I'm coming!” Mike exchanged glances with Johnny. “Things heating up. You and Everett keep a sharp look-out. I don’t think today is going to be as easy as yesterday was.”
 

Johnny shook his head. “Me either. I suspect with the funeral niceties over, whoever is in charge is going to give his full attention to us. Hope our evac ship arrives soon.”
 

What Mike found when he joined Saium was unnerving. As he came down the last few steps, he heard a sizzling noise. When he rounded the last curve of the staircase, he was greeted by the sight of wisps of oily black smoke seeping under the heavy door, coiling in proximity to the lower edges. As he watched, the lower metal hinge blackened as droplets of mist congealed on the surface. “What the hell?”
 

“Whatever it is, the smoke is eating through the door, there, and there.” Saium pointed to two spots at the bottom where Mike definitely could see more light than there had been before.
 

Mike hooked a finger at Saium. “Get the astronomer priest so we can see what he knows about this.”

The Nathlemeru’s reaction was dramatic. He tried to climb the stairs against Saium's hold, shaking and gibbering in panic. Mike let him slink to the relative safety of the second level, before holding his hunting knife to the man's neck, nicking the artery to draw a trickle of blood. “Tell him I want answers now, or else he goes right next to the door, close to the stuff he’s so afraid of. What is this?”
 

The priest was offering explanations even before Saium finished the translation in the trade talk, his words so frantic and rushed he had to repeat himself twice before Saium comprehended the full answer.
 

“He says it’s a special mix—blood of sacrifices, blood of the priests, and poison milked from the snakes, with secret ingredients even he doesn’t know. He says it takes a mighty ceremony and many sacrifices to create. Only the highest priests know the formula. The man babbles in fear.” Saium snorted with contempt. “The key point is this stuff eats whatever it touches—metal, wood, flesh and bone.”
 

“Some kind of acid. Chemical warfare on the most primitive level, but effective.” Mike was silent for a minute, pondering his options. “All right. We abandon the first floor and the second floor. Leave the astronomer on the second floor, by the stairs. The poison gas seems too heavy to diffuse very far beyond the door down here. Knock him out, tie him up. Let's go, now!”
 

As soon as Saium had accomplished the task, he and Mike scrambled to the second level. Mike closed the trapdoor behind them, and shot the bolt of the lock, harboring no illusions about the barrier holding for long, but each minute was precious, now they were into the final twelve hours of the rescue window he’d been promised.
The Marines have to be on their way to us soon.
 

There was nothing to further anchor the trapdoor, which was a pity. Sending Saium ahead, Mike did a three-sixty on the second floor one last time, making sure they hadn't forgotten anything. Then he headed to the third level, bolting the trapdoor behind him.
 

Above his head on the roof, Mike heard occasional blaster shots.
 

“Status?” he asked Shalira, who was huddled beside the couch, clutching her Mahjundan gun in one hand and cradling the gaudy scepter in the other.
 

“Johnny’s on the roof. Everett is on the balcony with Saium. The guards keep poking their heads over the roof edge but haven't attacked again yet.”
 

“Good report.” He raised his voice, so Saium and Everett could hear him on the balcony. “Okay, people, we’re abandoning this level and moving to the roof. We can't defend ourselves in here once they break through to the second floor, which they’ll do once the acid eats enough of the door away at the entrance. Blasters don't do you any good in hand-to-hand combat, which is what we'll have if we stay here.”

Johnny provided covering fire while Mike handed Shalira onto the roof and Saium guided her to the safest possible spot, next to Everett.
 

Working quickly, the men took the big table that they’d salvaged from level two during the night and placed it across the opening for the stairs. Mike placed the smaller table at the far wall of the tower, to provide some shelter for Shalira in case the enemy attacked with archers.
 

Johnny grabbed his arm and held up a hand for silence. “Listen!”
 

Mike heard the sound of axes hacking away at the trapdoor on level two.
 

“Only be a few minutes now,” he said. “All right, let's move it!”
 

Five minutes later he’d done all he could to fortify their last stand. The table completely blocked the transition from the stairway to the roof itself. Mike and Johnny took their places behind it, somewhat sheltered by its width–six inches of hardwood. Saium and Everett took positions on the left side, commanding a field of fire on the staircase as it wound around the tower from the balcony they’d so recently been defending.
 

“I hope they can't bottle the acid stuff,” Johnny said. “Someone might get the bright idea of throwing it up here.”
 

Suddenly, two city guards in the maroon leather jerkins and helmets appeared on the balcony below. Saium and Everett fired within a breath of each other and both warriors fell. Unseen comrades hauled them back inside by the ankles.
 

“Testing us,” Mike said.

“Invasion coming across the roof!” Johnny pointed toward the opposite edge.
 

“Do you see what I see?” Mike exclaimed, his worst nightmare confirmed. “Archers!” He called to the princess, “Get as far back under the table as you can. They're going to be shooting arrows at us in a minute.”
 

“I'll be fine,” she said, flashing him a smile as she obeyed the order.
 

“Count off your remaining charges,” Mike said to his troops.
 

The result was disheartening. They were reduced to about a hundred shots each on the blasters, and then nothing was left but the projectile guns. Fifty men were massing across the roof, with more coming. A squad of ten archers was even now taking aim.
 

“Fire at will, gentlemen, but pick your targets. Try to disrupt the damn archers,” Mike ordered, drawing a bead himself on the officer in charge, killing him as the first volley was loosed. The arrows landed short of the tower by a good thirty feet. The remaining archers were already taking aim again. The group of fifty soldiers advanced across the roof, holding small round leather shields protectively in front of their faces and upper torsos. This was no impediment to a blaster shot, and many fell, but still, the group kept marching. Reinforcements mounted the slippery roof.
 

“Damn, they're full of fight today,” Johnny yelled. “Priests must have given them some heavy duty encouragement, what do you think?”
 

“Promises of some glorious afterlife,” Mike shouted back, firing, selecting a new target and firing again in a deadly rhythm, thinning the ranks of city guards. Saium and Everett made their shots count, targeting the archers. Nonetheless, the next flight of arrows came clattering on the tower roof, sending the defenders ducking frantically in all directions. Mike spared a glance back at the table sheltering Shalira. Several arrows were lodged deep in the wood, but none had penetrated. Suddenly Saium crumbled, knocking Everett off-balance as he fell.
 

Mike grabbed the old warrior, dragging him toward the princess’s makeshift refuge. “Cover my spot!”
 

A long maroon-shafted arrow had buried itself deep in the Mahjundan’s right shoulder, and he convulsed, eyes rolled back into his head.
 

“What the hell?” Suspicions aroused, Mike grabbed an arrow embedded in the table and pulled it free. The arrowhead was a gleaming, sharpened piece of translucent stone smeared with thick, green, viscous liquid. He threw the wooden shaft over the side of the tower, wiping his hand on his pants. “Poison. Johnny, the arrows have poison tips. Anything in the medkit to use on it?”