Страница 72 из 120
"Not a problem," he a
"Really?" Honal grunted a laugh. "If you think this isn't a problem, maybe we have fewer 'points of congruence' than you thought!"
"No, I'm serious," Roger assured him with a grin.
"Oh, I don't doubt we can take it," Honal said. "But we're going to lose a lot of people doing it."
"No," Roger said. "Or, rather, we probably would lose them if the garrison knew we were coming. Or where we're coming from."
He regarded the fortress for a few more moments, then shook his head.
"Send a messenger back. Ask Captain Pahner to expedite getting a team from Julian's squad up the road. I've got a little project for them."
* * *
Roger wiped his hands as Julian rode into the encampment. The sun was barely down, but the Vashin had already broken up into squads across the ridgeline, lighting fires against the mountain cold and settling in for the night. The cold-blooded Mardukans found it nearly impossible to move when the temperature dropped below what humans considered sweltering. The humans, on the other hand, including the small guard detachment with Roger, thought the nighttime temperatures were balmy.
"Cold enough for you, Julian?" Roger asked, as the Marine climbed off the civan. With the sunset, the temperatures had dropped to what could be considered a pleasantly warm fall day in Imperial City.
"Just great, Sir," the sergeant said sourly. "Except for the saddle sores, that is. I can't believe you made us ride these things!"
"I suspect it's just going to get cooler," Roger said, looking to the north. "And as for the saddle sores, I'm afraid I didn't have much choice. We're going to be on a tight timetable, and as the temperature drops, it's going to get even harder to move for the Mardukans."
"On that, I've got a message for you," the squad leader said uncomfortably. "Captain Pahner dropped half the carts and doubled up the turom on the rest. So they're moving better."
"Good! Will they be here in time?"
"Probably, but they had some problems. They ran into something like a 'mountain atul.' Some of the turom panicked, and one of the carts ran back over ... Despreaux."
"What?!"
"She's fine! Just a broken arm," Julian said, raising a hand as Roger shot to his feet and turned towards the picketed civan. "And the captain asked me to point out that you've got a job here."
"Yes, but—" Roger began in a semi-frantic tone.
"And Despreaux said for me to tell you that if you come rushing back to see 'your poor hurt girlfriend' you'll have a broken arm, too."
"Yes, but—"
"And you called me all the way up this frigging road on one of those ass-busting civan," Julian finished. "So you can damned well tell me why, Sir."
Roger thought about that for several moments, then drew a deep breath and turned back around.
"Ah, hell," he sighed.
"Let's just get on with the job, Sir." Julian patted him on the shoulder. "Life's a bitch, and then you die. Right?"
"Right." Roger sighed again, then gestured into the darkness. "All right, then. I've got a job for you. And, I have to admit, not one that could wait while I went back to check on Nimashet. Take a look at the target."
They walked to the crest of the ridge, and Julian jacked up his helmet's light-gathering and zoom.
"Big pocker," he remarked, gazing at the wall. "Any idea on the garrison?"
"About two hundred," Roger said calmly.
"Be a bitch to take by frontal assault, even against swords and arquebuses," Julian observed. He looked up both flanking ridges, and grimaced. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"
"You and Gro
"Sure," the sergeant grumped. He didn't mention that that position had previously been occupied by Dokkum. The native of the planet Nepal had been an expert at everything involving "elevation." Unfortunately, "had been" was the operative term. He'd died just before Ran Tai.
"This isn't going to be a short movement," the NCO went on after a moment. The carpeting Mardukan jungle had given way to a more open, deciduous forest, but even that stopped well short of the tops of the ridges. There was a faint track, a trail left by the local equivalent of goats, along the ridgeline, but getting to it would be difficult. The ridge was at least five hundred meters above their present position, and those meters were damned near vertical.
"We'll get the Vashin moving by just before dawn, one way or the other," Roger said. "I need you in position by then."
The Mardukan night was eighteen hours long, which would give the squad at least fifteen hours to effect the move. Julian thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded.
"Can do, Boss." He shook his head in mock sorrow. "I need to get less competent, or something."
Roger chuckled and clapped him on the back.
"Just imagine the stories you'll be able to tell in the NCO club. You'll never have to buy a beer again."
Julian looked back up at the trackless mountain and nodded.
"Now there's a motivator. Free beer. Free beer. I'll just keep repeating that."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Macek spat over the edge of the ridge and shook his head.
"You look into the abyss, and the abyss looks back," he muttered.
"Less philosophy, more climb," Gro
The squad was strung out along a knife-edged ridge, the top of the saddle between two mountains. The "flat" surface was no more than a meter wide, with sheer drops on both sides. And the assault team would have to cross a nearly vertical shoulder of the second peak to get into position above the citadel.
"There was a shelf," Julian said, puffing slightly. The ridge was nearly five thousand meters above Mardukan sea level, which meant that even with the slightly thicker atmosphere, oxygen was in short supply. More than that, Julian had let Gro
"I think I see it," Gro
"Best His Nibs could spot before sundown," Julian replied, checking his toot for the time. "Four more hours until we need to be on the walls."
"We can make that easily," Gro
"Lead on, Mule," Julian said. "Onward and upward."
* * *
Julian leaned out from the narrow ledge and sent a laser sweep across the top of the fortress far below.
"Two thousand meters."
"Right at The Book's outside drop limit," Macek said with a dubious headshake. "Long way to fall."
"It is that," Julian agreed unhappily.
The ledge was, indeed, narrow—a thin shelf of slightly harder granite intruded into the surrounding matrix. Some latter-day earth movement had shifted and folded the mountain, thrusting the horizontal dike outwards, exposing it to erosion. Over time, the remnants had become a half-meter wide section of granite, suspended over a two thousand-meter drop.
"It's the only choice we have, though," the squad leader added. "I want everyone to spread out. It looks like we're right over the i