An Oblique Approach

Belisarius watched the flight of the rocket. He was struck, more than anything, by the serpentine nature of the bamboo device's trajectory. It did not fly with the true arc of an arrow or a cast spear. Instead, the rocket skittered and snaked about. He realized, after a moment, that there was some connection between the rocket's movements and the erratic red flare that jetted from its tail.

Crude, blunt thoughts suddenly emerged through the barrier. They entered his mind like dumb creatures lumbering into a cave.

poor mix. bad powder.

Mix? He wondered. Powder? What could powder—dust—have to do with—?

powder is force.

"How? And what kind of powder?" he wondered aloud. Again, Garmat glanced at him worriedly. Belisarius began to smile reassuringly, but the smile faded. He could feel the alien presence in his mind retreating; could sense its discouragement.

The rocket began to drift downward toward the sea. It was obvious, long before it struck, that the device had been badly aimed. It would land far from any pirate craft.

"Is it aimed at all?" he muttered. Next to him, Garmat shook his head. The Axumite seemed relieved that Belisarius' mumblings were now connected to reality.

"I do not think so, General. I think they are simply shot forth in the general direction of the enemy. You saw how it flew. How could such a capricious weapon be aimed?"

The rocket hit the sea. There was a sudden plume of water and steam, then—nothing. The multitude of Arabs aboard the pirate vessels gave out a great jeering cry.

The pirates were now close enough for examination.

There were a total of thirteen galleys approaching. Each was rowed on two banks, with a lateen sail and a huge crew. At a rough guess, Belisarius estimated that each ship carried over a hundred men. Most of the pirates were armed with swords or spears. A number had bows. Very few, however, wore much in the way of armor. Nor, for that matter, did many of the Arabs even carry shields.

As individuals, Belisarius decided, they were not particularly fearsome. The danger was in their great numbers.

Four more rockets were fired. Again, the skittering serpentine trajectories—and again, none of them came near their mark. The pirates were now jeering madly.

"They're gaining on us," groused Eon. "What a miserable ship this beast is! In these heavy seas, with this good wind, we should be leaving them behind easily."

Six rockets were fired. And now, finally, the strange weapons showed their true power. Two of them struck the same pirate vessel. The Arab ship seemed to burst into flame and fury. Several pirates were hurled into the air as if they had been struck by the hand of an invisible titan.

"Force!" exclaimed Belisarius. "Yes—that's what—" He fell silent.

"That's what?" demanded Garmat.

Belisarius glanced at him, pursed his lips in thought, then shook his head.

"Never mind, Garmat. I was just noticing that these weapons are not simply fire-weapons. They bear some other power with them as well. Some unknown—force—which acts like a blow as well as a flame."

Garmat looked back at the pirate vessel. Now that the cloud of smoke had cleared, it was obvious that the ship had been struck as well as burnt. Where one of the rockets had collided, an entire section of the ship's hull had been caved in. The vessel was already listing badly, and its crew was beginning to jump overboard. It was clear that the craft was doomed. The only uncertainty was whether it would sink before the flames could engulf it.

Again, suddenly, an alien thought moved into Belisarius' mind.

explosion. force is explosion.

Tantalizingly, Belisarius almost caught the image which the jewel was emitting. But it withdrew, faded—then surged back. Just for an instant, the general saw a barrel containing a blazing and furious fire. The fire produced a vast volume of gasses which pressed against the walls of the barrel until—

"Yes!" he cried. "Yes—I was right! It is fire!"

He suddenly realized that a number of people were staring at him. Not just Romans and Axumites, either. Several of the Ye-tai warriors stationed nearby were frowning at him, as well as a Mahaveda priest.

Keep your mouth shut, idiot. Observe in silence.

Another volley of rockets. Six rockets, six misses—but the jeer from the pirates was notably more subdued. The Arab craft were now less than two hundred yards away. A few Arab archers loosed shafts, but their arrows fell short of the mark.

"Weaklings," sneered Anastasius. The giant Thracian drew his great bow. Belisarius almost winced, watching. The general had tried to draw that bow, once. Tried and failed miserably, for all that Belisarius was a strong man.