A Fire Upon the Deep

He dropped to the ground and reached back to grab the nearest part of Amdi. The pup wriggled out of his hands. It blubbered something not Tinish and not human. Jefri could see the dark shadows of several members pulling at something out of sight. A second later, a cold, wet blob of fur rolled out of the darkness into his arms. A second more, and out came another. Jefri lowered the two to the ground and wiped goo away from their muzzles. One rolled onto its legs and began to shake itself. The other started choking and coughing.

Meanwhile the rest of Amdi dropped out of the hole. All eight were covered with some amount of oil. They straggled drunkenly into a heap, licking each another's tympana. Their buzzing and croaking made no sense.

Jefri turned from his friend and walked toward the light. They were hidden by a turn in the stone… fortunately. From around the corner he could hear the marshaling calls of Steel's troopers. He crept to the edge and peered around. For an instant he thought he and Amdi were back inside the castle yard; there were so many troopers. But then he saw the unbounded sweep of the hillside and the smoke rising out of the valley.

What next? He glanced back at Amdi, who was still frantically grooming his tympana. The chords and hums were sounding more rational now, and all of Amdi was moving. He turned back to the hillside. For an instant he almost felt like rushing out to the troops. They had been his protectors for so long.

One of Amdi bumped against his legs, and looked out for himself. "Wow. There's a regular lake of oil between us and Mr. Steel's soldiers. I — "

The booming sound was loud, but not like a gunpowder blast. It lasted almost a second, then became a background roar. Two more of Amdi stretched necks around the corner. The lake had become a roaring sea of flame.

Blueshell had maneuvered the boat within two hundred meters of the castle wall, opposite the point where the packs had bunched up. Now the lander floated just a man's height off the moss. "Just our being here is driving the packs away," said Pilgrim.

Pham glanced over his shoulder. Woodcarver's troops had regained the field and were racing toward the castle walls. Another sixty seconds, max, and they would be in contact with Steel's packs.

There was a loud brap from Blueshell's voder, and Pham looked forward. "By the Fleet," he said softly. Packs on the ramparts had fired some kind of flamethrowers into the pools of oil below the castle walls. Blueshell flew in a little closer. Long pools of oil lay parallel to the walls. The enemy's packs on the outside were all but cut off from their castle now. Except for one thirty-meter-wide gap, the section they had been guarding was high fire.

The boat bobbed a little higher, tilting and sliding in the fire-driven whirl of air. In most places the oil lapped the sloped base of the walls. Those walls were more intricate than the castles of Canberra — in many places it looked like there were little mazes or caves built into the base. Looks damn stupid in a defensive structure.

"Jefri!" screamed Johanna, and pointed toward the middle of the unburning section. Pham had a glimpse of something withdrawing behind the stonework.

"I saw him too." Blueshell tilted the boat over and slid downwards, toward the wall. Johanna's hand closed on Pham's arm, pushing and shaking. He could barely hear her voice over the Pilgrim's shouting. "Please, please, please," she was saying.

For a moment it looked like they would make it: Steel's troops were well back from them and — though there were ponds of oil below them — they were not yet alight. Even the air seemed quieter than before. For all that, Blueshell managed to lose control. A gentle tipping went uncorrected, and the boat slid sideways into the ground. It was a slow collision, but Pham heard one of the landing pods cracking. Blueshell played with the controls and the other side of the craft settled to earth. The beamer was stuck muzzle first into the earth.

Pham's gaze snapped up at the Skroderider. He'd known it would come to this.

Ravna: "What happened? Can you get up?"

Blueshell dithered with the controls a moment longer, then gave a Riderish shrug. "Yes. But it will take too long — " He was undoing his restraints, unclamping his skrode from the deck. The hatch in front of him slid open, and the noise of battle and fire came loud.

"What in hell do you think you're doing, Blueshell!"

The Rider's fronds angled attention at Pham, "To rescue the boy. This will all be afire in a moment."

"And this boat could fry if we leave it here. You're not going anywhere, Blueshell." He leaned forward, far enough to grab the other by his lower fronds.

Johanna was looking wildly from one to the other in an uncomprehending panic. "No! Please — " And Ravna was shouting at him too. Pham tensed, all his attention on the Rider.