Soarers Choice (38 page)

In
less than half a glass, the bombardment began again.

This
time, two of the light-rifles began firing, but after both squads had completed
their run, none of the pteridons had yet been hit, and there were two more
places where parts of the building walls were sagging, and the dust had begun
to rise once more.

Lyzetta
had just finished her next pass — successfully directing a near-spherical
boulder into the middle building, and shaking down more of the eastern wall —
when Dainyl sensed the heavy lightcannon begin to operate even before he saw
the intense blue-green beam sweep the eastern approach to the RA’s complex. He
could feel the weapon sucking lifeforce from somewhere. That meant it had a
shielding mechanism of some sort, or all the alectors in the complex would be
dead or dying.

The
lightcannon kept trying to track the pteridons — and missing — all through the
next run. Even so, the weapon was having one effect — the accuracy of the
boulders went down, with only two hitting the buildings.

In
some ways, Dainyl wished he had the numbers a commander like Majer Mykel had.
For Dainyl, every pteridon was valuable — and irreplaceable. The majer could
afford to lose scores of troopers to gain an objective. Dainyl had to weigh
every possible loss. But then, that was because there had never been that many
pteridons on Acorus, and they’d effectively been invulnerable.

Lyzetta
had delayed the next run of the pteridons. Then, suddenly she and another
Myrmidon, separated by a good hundred yards, managed simultaneous appearances
directly north of the buildings. By the time the lightcannon had swung north,
cutting through the dust and turning the larger particles into minute burning
points of light, the two pteridons had dropped below the
e.g.
of the ridge. Lyzetta’s boulder had struck the northwest corner of the large
middle structure with enough force, combined with the earlier damage, that the
entire corner slumped into rubble.

The
lightcannon flicked off.

Another
pair of pteridons attacked from the southwest, but there was no reply from the
defenders. Dainyl knew that they were waiting, probably picking a spot and
hoping to trigger the weapon if any pteridon appeared there, instead of chasing
the pteridons.

He
just hoped Lyzetta understood that as well.

Four
more pteridons appeared and lobbed or threw boulders before the lightcannon
flashed once, narrowly missing the fifth. The central structure was sagging on
two corners, and Dainyl had to wonder why the defenders did not move the heavy
lightcannon. Or was it tied to something?

He
shook his head. Of course, it was tied to the Table. That was the only source
of lifeforce that wasn’t strictly local. Did that mean that the lightcannon
remained virtually invulnerable, like the Table, so long as the Table was
powered?

He
had no way of knowing that, and if that happened to be true, then his strategy
was the only one that had a chance of working.

The
bombardment came to a halt once more, while the pteridons gathered more
boulders. This time there was a longer break, doubtless for the Myrmidons to
stretch their legs and eat. Dainyl glanced at the sun — and was surprised to
realize that it was well past midafternoon.

He
took a long swallow from his water bottle, finishing it off.

Close
to a glass passed before Lyzetta initiated the next run.

The
lightcannon did not fire for the first three pteridons.

Then,
a ball of blue-green fire exploded on the west
e.g.
of the ridge. Dainyl knew the explosion was the result of the lightcannon
striking one of the second squad pteridons.

The
defenders had calculated well — or had been lucky. Either way, it didn’t
matter. Seventh Company had lost another pteridon and Myrmidon.

Dainyl
watched the next few pteridons closely, but the lightcannon did not fire, and
more boulders battered the structures. If the defenders got more accurate, he’d
have to come up with something else, but until they did, what the Myrmidons
were doing was the best approach he could come up with.

He
glanced to the northwest. Before too long, the three squads from First Company
should be arriving — if they hadn’t run into other difficulties.

By
a glass before sunset, the structures on the top of the ridge were closer to
resembling piles of rubble than the buildings that they had once been, but Dainyl
had the feeling that despite the outer appearance, the lower levels were not
that badly damaged and that the Table was still receiving alectors from Ifryn.
The lightcannon was still operating and had claimed one more pteridon. At that
point, Dainyl had signaled Lyzetta to pick him up, and then had ordered a
withdrawal to the patrollers’ station, leaving two pteridons flying
surveillance, both to watch the complex and to intercept and warn First Company
— assuming that Alcyna did in fact arrive with the three squads.

Neither
Lyzetta nor Dainyl spoke until she had landed the pteridon and dismounted from
the harness, stretching her long legs.

“This
has been a hard day.”

“These
are hard times,” he replied, thinking about all the pteridons and Myrmidons
lost in the past seasons.

“Was
it planned this way, sir?”

“Was
what planned this way, Captain?”

“The
secondary world being set up as a target for the desperate from Ifryn. The lack
of pteridons and effective weapons to combat the numbers of alectors trying to
escape Ifryn.”

“I
don’t think so. Not in that way. The Archon wouldn’t want Acorus to exhaust its
lifeforce. He’d want another world ready when Efra fails. But... he didn’t want
either world strong enough to resist him and those around him when he transfers
the Master Scepter. That’s just a guess on my part, but I imagine once the
decision was made, probably several years back, the Archon began sending his
own people, more than a few shadowmatched for loyalty, to Efra to ensure his
reception. Some have been sent here, too, I suspect.” He paused. Had Zestafyn
and Kylara been such? Was that why they’d been removed? While Zestafyn’s death
— since he had been Khelaryt’s unofficial intelligence chief — made sense in
terms of his role in uncovering the engineering misfeasance, why would anyone
bother with his wife, who had no such role, unless something else had been
involved? “Marshal?”

“Just
thinking.” He forced a smile. “You’d better have your Myrmidons get some food
and rest. Tomorrow could be another long day.”

“They
can’t hold out that much longer, can they?” asked the captain. “What if they
decide to abandon everything tonight and scatter into the hills or try to take
over Soupat?”

“Then
we bury the complex tomorrow so deeply that it can’t be used anytime soon, and
start to hunt down any troublemakers. I don’t think the Duarches will bother,
not right now, anyway, with a comparative handful of refugees — if we make sure
no more come through.” Dainyl tried not to think of what would happen if
someone tried to translate to a buried Table.

“What
do you think will happen tomorrow, sir?”

“We’ll
either find an abandoned complex, or they’ll have figured out some new weapon
or way of using that lightcannon — or both — and we’ll have to figure out
something else.”

Her
eyebrows lifted. “Blasting powder?”

“I’ve
thought about it, but we don’t have the right containment to blast through
unbroken stone, and it would take longer than we have to create that kind of
weaponry.” Dainyl also didn’t want to be the one who demonstrated that kind of
weaponry with landers around.

“There’s
no other solution besides force?”

“If
we allow Acorus to admit every alector who wants to come, in less than a
generation, if not in a few years, we won’t have a world that will hold life.
On the other hand, they’re fighting for their very lives. Do you see a
solution, Captain?”

“Couldn’t
we find a way ... ?”

Dainyl
laughed. “Asulet and the lifeform specialists have worked for over a thousand
years. They’d like nothing better than to have a better solution. So would your
father.”

“There
must be ...”

“Generally,
I’ve found that when we say that there must be a solution or a way, that means
that we can’t think of one, but we don’t want to accept the situation that
faces us.” Dainyl knew he was no different. The ancients had suggested that he
had to change, and Dainyl had twice dismissed their declaration. But... what if
they were right?

“Pteridons
to the north!”

Both
Lyzetta and Dainyl turned and watched as the three squads of First Company
swung eastward and circled around, well clear of the RA’s complex, to set down
farther to the east.

Alcyna
was in the second harness of the second pteridon, and she unharnessed herself
quickly and walked across the sand-swept ground toward Dainyl, where she
stopped. “First Company reporting, Marshal.”

Dainyl
noted that Lyzetta eased away gracefully. “Thank you. How was the flight?”

“Long.
We all appreciated the warning about the lightcannon.” The briefest frown
crossed her brow.

For
that moment, Dainyl was aware of just how small she was for an alectress. Most
of the time, her sheer energy conveyed an impression of far greater height and
presence.

“How
did they get it here?” Alcyna asked.

“I’d
judge that they carried the crystals and components here through the long
translation. How many they lost to get it here I wouldn’t want to speculate.
They probably had the strongest Talents do it, and had spares. It’s nothing
like the ones Rhelyn had. It’s far more powerful, and they’re tapping the Table
and translation tubes to power it.”

Alcyna
winced. “Even Brekylt and... some of those around him aren’t that stupid.”

“Or
that desperate.” Dainyl gestured toward the low hill to the northwest of the
patroller station. “We can get a view of the complex from the top of the hill.”

“That
might be a good idea.”

Once
they were away from the other Myrmidons, Dainyl glanced at Alcyna. “You’re
worried. I don’t think it’s about Soupat.”

“No.
Brekylt sent me a dispatch. It was Talent-sealed. Someone had opened it and
resealed it. I doubt anyone besides me or his chief assistant would have caught
the difference.”

“Zelyert?”

Alcyna
gave a low and rueful laugh. “Possibly. It doesn’t matter. He’ll know by now.”

“What
are you going to do?”

“That’s
one of the things I like about you. You don’t ask the inane questions like ‘Do
you want to tell me?’ You know I wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t. Brekylt was
like that, too.”

Dainyl
kept walking, listening.

“It
was a simple note, really,” Alcyna went on. “Not that what was behind it was
simple at all. He just wished me well in Elcien. He wrote that I had great
ability and should be rewarded with a position that offered me the ability to
command without having to compromise with those who did not understand and
never would. That was all.”

“That
was almost an offer of command if you return.”

“He
didn’t go quite that far. He never does.”

“But
you know that, and he knows that you do,” Dainyl pointed out.

“Shastylt
truly underestimated you. So does Zelyert.”

“You
don’t want complete command?”

“Of
course, I want to be in command.” Her eyebrows lifted and her lips quirked into
a sardonic expression. “I also don’t want to be a mere tool if there’s any
alternative, and Brekylt is looking for tools. Even Noryan knows that.”

“How
long before Brekylt declares the east independent of the Duarches?”

“Just
before the Master Scepter is transferred, when no one can really do anything.
Efra will take all the effort and power the Archon and those with him have.
Once Brekylt consolidates his power and controls the Tables in the east, the
Archon will have to recognize him as the equivalent of a Duarch.”

Dainyl
frowned. “I’m new to the deeper levels of this sort of plotting, but it seems
that all the refugees from Ifryn might well be another means to keep matters
unsettled enough that the High Alectors didn’t get ideas like Brekylt has — or
make implementing them more difficult.”

“I
wouldn’t be at all surprised. It’s aimed as much at the Duarches as at Brekylt,
though.”

That
was certainly true. “What else should I know about what’s happening in Elcien?”

“Doubtless
there’s something, but what that might be ...” Alcyna shrugged. “Zelyert has
yet to talk to me since I arrived in Elcien.”

Dainyl
sensed both the truth and a certain frustration behind her words.

She
gestured toward the northwest. “It looks as though your bombardment is working,
but... it’s been hard on the pteridons.”

“The
two squads from Seventh Company started out one short, and we’ve lost four,”
Dainyl admitted.

“You
knew this wouldn’t be as easy as Zelyert thought, didn’t you?”

“I
don’t think he cares what it costs.”

“You’re
right about that.” After the briefest of pauses, she asked, “How much damage do
you think you’ve done?”

“Less
than it looks. In a bit, I’m going to try something else.”

“Dropping
a large boulder from overhead?”

“That’s
the idea. It’s not practical for most Myrmidons.” He snorted. “It may not be
practical for me.”

“You
have blasting powder, don’t you?”

“Some...
but the more I’ve thought about it, the less I think it’s practical.”

“And
you still don’t like giving ideas to the indigens?”

Dainyl
couldn’t help but think of Majer Mykel. “Some of them already have it figured
out. They just fear the consequences.”