Judas Unchained

“When the storm arrives, they won’t be able to give us much warning, a couple of minutes at best.”

When, not if, Bradley thought in bitter amusement. Their belief is still strong. “I know. It’s just that I’ve spent so much time and effort trying to stop this moment from happening. I truly thought the planet would have its revenge. Now we don’t even know if the navy people made it to the summit.”

Scott opened his mouth to answer, then found himself being edged aside as Stig pushed between them.

“I want to drive you,” Stig said.

“Stig—”

“My skeleton suit is adequate if anything gets through the armored car’s force field.”

Bradley looked at the tough young man’s stark face; the set of determination was easy enough to read. He couldn’t say no. This was the climax of everything the Guardians had achieved.

“I think I’ve earned the right to be in at the kill,” Stig said stubbornly.

Bradley smiled and rested his hand on Stig’s shoulder, remembering the man’s great-grandfather setting out on a raid he never came back from. “Of course you have, Stig, I’d be delighted and relieved if you took the wheel.”

Stig gave a slight start. He’d obviously marshaled a big argument ready. His face split into a winning smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“But no more beezee; you’ve had enough.”

“I don’t need it for this, sir.”

“Get the engine started, we’ll be going any second.”

Stig raced across the enzyme-bonded concrete to the armored car’s open door.

“I think we’re ready,” Bradley told Scott as he watched Stig with a fond smile. “Start pulling your people back from the road, these zone killers are pretty indiscriminate.”

“Yes, sir. I’m going to send three platoons to intercept the soldier motiles.”

“Fair enough, but those creatures will not be pushovers. Make sure the platoons understand that.”

“Yes, sir, I’m…” He broke off to watch the remaining Barsoomians who were dispersing along the top of the ridge, gliding sedately through the short grass like small hovercraft. “Do they actually have legs?”

“Who knows?” Bradley said. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll have earned the right to ask them, eh?”

“Tomorrow it is.” Scott’s expression changed to one of mild exasperation.

Bradley didn’t have to turn; he knew who was coming. Those heels made a very distinctive sound on the concrete.

“ ‘Scuse me, Mr. Johansson,” Tiger Pansy said. “Where do you want me for the attack?”

“I think, dear lady, you would be safest here with Qatux.”

“Hey, no way. That’s not what Qatux wants. The action is with you guys.”

“I see.”

“She can come with me,” Olwen said. “I’m driving the second armored car. It’s as safe as anywhere’s going to be today.”

“That’s really kind,” Tiger Pansy said.

“All right then,” Bradley said. “Let’s go. May the dreaming heavens welcome all of us.” He took out his pendant, a small clear stone with a tiny turquoise glow at the center, and kissed it before tucking it down into his armor again.

Behind him, Qatux hooted softly. Tiger Pansy was giving him a strange look. “Cool,” she crooned.

Bradley pulled his helmet on, and told his e-butler to seal the collar. The armored car’s engine was growling as he settled himself into the forward passenger bench. He pulled sensor images from all three armored cars out of his grid, then opened channels to both Cat’s Claws and the Paris team. The image that filled his virtual vision was looking down on the Starflyer convoy, which still hadn’t moved. All around it, the clan warriors were withdrawing, widening the circle.

“Everyone ready?” he asked.

As the confirmations came in, he checked on the motiles. Their vehicles were now only eleven kilometers away. Eighty clan warriors were riding fast toward them.

“Stig, Olwen, Ayub, fire the zone killers, please.”

The armored cars rocked slightly as the delta-shaped weapons burst up out of their launchers. Sensors briefly captured the three of them tracing a fast arc through the sky above Highway One. Distorted, superheated air churned in their wake.

Kinetic cannons mounted on the Land Rover Cruisers tracked around to the vertical and opened fire. They were answered by a massive barrage of ion rifle fire from the encircling band of clan warriors. Dazzling blue-white pulses sleeted in like a constricting noose of sheet lightning. Hyper-rifle shots and Alic’s particle lances ripped down from the top of the rise.

“Focus on the Starflyer,” Bradley yelled. Fire lines swept inward toward the MANN truck and its shiny capsule. A hundred meters above it, three zone killers detonated. The triple cataracts of emerald twinkle-points descended with slow grace to submerge all the convoy vehicles in a translucent corona. For a second they lay entombed within the glowing shroud like insects in amber.