Intrepid

Ninety more minutes to keep up the game of ''not here.'' After that, they'd be in the open, and the cat would be out of the bag.

Kris had to shake her head as she watched her task force form up along both sides of her in three loose rows. Farmers nodded at the wheels. Even with their lights on, trucks had a hard time keeping properly in their place.

Maybe not all the drivers were awake.

A freckled gal with a pair of pigtails almost sideswiped the rig next to her. The catcalls she collected were no worse, nor any better, than the ones got by a guy who bumped the rig next to him. Maybe all the shouting put an end to sleepy driving. The task force spread out, and the bumper-car competition ended.

A few minutes later, the Wasp raced into the sky above them and Kris mashed her comm. ''What's it look like, Captain Drago?''

''Like someone's trying to play with our sensor suite. They got the fires jacked up at the camp. If I didn't know better, I'd say the cooks were planning on burning the coffee.''

''Or burning your sensors.''

''They'd have better luck with the coffee, my boys are on the job. Anyway, some of the bedrolls are occupied warm, others are cooling warm, and a whole lot of them are way below warm.''

The captain paused before going on. ''You know, if I didn't know that Your Highness's opposition were all lazy bums, I'd suspect that they'd broken camp and were out causing mischief on this fine morning.''

''Those good boys would never do that,'' Kris said, letting sarcasm flood her answer. ''Can you tell me where they are?''

There was a long pause at that question. ''I'm not sure I can,'' Drago finally said. ''We've got a bit of heat on the trail to the dugouts, but I'm not sure if I hadn't drawn a line between their camp and them that I'd notice it. They've figured out a good way to go to ground. Good way.''

''Dig a hole, put a cool cover over it, and you'd be hard to see, too,'' Kris said.

''Ah, there you go using words no self-respecting sailor would ever use. Dig a hole. Hide in the dirt. No. No. Not our way. Not at all.''

Kris suppressed a chuckle at the weird looks her starship captain was getting from dirt farmers. ''Well, how about this. Things are going to get decisive in the not-too-distant future. I want you to creep up on Thorpe's orbit. Get in a position so in a minute or two you could come over his horizon.''

''I pop into his gun sights all suddenlike and he might take a shot at me. Not with any malice, you know. Just kind of accidental-like.''

''I didn't think you'd want us down here to have all the fun,'' Kris chided him.

''What gave you that idea? Oh, no, you go right on and have it all,'' Drago offered.

''I've already computed a course,'' Navigator Sulwan Kann put in over the comm. ''Do you want us coming up his tail or dropping back from ahead of him?''

''Let's allow for the tail chase,'' Kris said.

''Yes,'' Captain Drago said, now deadly serious. ''Yes. Let's position us for a long tail chase.''

''Let me know if you pick up anything at all while you're overhead.''

''We will. Bye for now.''

And Kris found herself once more alone in the dark night driving into a day that had not yet begun to dawn. But before the sun set, all the questions before her now would be answered.

* * *

Colonel Cortez spat out the dirt he'd nearly eaten and tossed aside the thermal blanket as soon as the sensor tech called ''Sky Clear.''

''Everyone up. Get moving. You're wasting daylight,'' he shouted. Someone pointed out … in a whisper … that it was pitch-dark. Like a smart colonel, he ignored the wag.

''Don't wad up that thermal blanket,'' Cortez shouted at a psalm-singing private who had begun to do just that. Colonel Cortez was well aware that colonels do not correct privates. However, three sergeants in their white beanies were standing around doing nothing as at least one private destroyed his ability to hide from orbital spotting.

''Sergeants,'' Captain Sawyer said, climbing out of a hole behind the colonel. ''See that the men secure their property properly. This may not be the last hole we need to skulk in.''

''Yes, sir,'' the sergeants answered, and began moving among their troops, turning wadded balls into squared-away packages.

''I'm sorry, Colonel,'' Sawyer said. ''The men had been briefed on the thermal blankets but not since we landed.'' Which was a polite way of reminding the colonel that sometime in his copious spare time, he should have issued just such a reminder.

He hadn't. Nothing could be done about that.

''Captain, your Third Company is the center. I want you to hit those ditches fast and hard. First and Second Companies will come in from your flanks,'' Cortez said, glancing around. If they were not exactly milling about, they certainly weren't moving toward the enemy. ''What do you say Third challenges First and Second to a race to the ditches?''