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«Right.» The lieutenant keyed the mike. «Occoquan, over.»
«Umm,» the fire direction technician checked her map and eyeballed the range. «Roger. say your position and condition, over.»
«Ridge to north of Occoquan River, overlooking 123, dug-in, coordinates 654897.»
«Roger, stand by.»
* * *
«L-T, we got movement on 123!»
Lieutenant Ryan lifted his head out of the slit trench and peered into town. Down Main Street, «Old 123,» trotted a swarm of yellow centaurs, their God King prominent in their midst. He had been surprised by the female voice, but now just wished she'd get her fa
«Sergeant Leo!»
«Yes, sir?»
«Drop the 123 bridge!»
«Yes, sir. What about the footbridge?»
«Let's keep that up for a while.»
A group of centaurs came around the shoulder of the hill, trotting down 123. At the sight of the intact bridge they broke into a gallop. Almost simultaneously there was a thundering racket from downstream where the I-95 and U.S. 1 bridges went up simultaneously.
«Purple Heart Bridge indeed,» muttered the lieutenant.
«What was that, sir?» asked one of the waiting engineers.
«Nothing, I think I've got some artillery on the way.»
«Great! That battery behind us?»
«No, I don't have their frequency. Somebody else, I don't know what.»
As the 123 bridge blew up, the two hundred pounds of Composition-4 explosives lifting concrete chunks and the first rank of centaurs into the air, the radio crackled with a transmission.
«Say again, over!» shouted the young officer, ears ringing. Despite orders and pointed suggestions, he wasn't wearing earplugs.
«This is Uniform Four Seven, ranging round incoming. Danger close, say again, danger close!»
The lieutenant lifted his head up to see if the view had changed. No, he was still over three hundred meters from the center of town. «Danger Close» for 155mm was only two hundred yards. What the heck.
«Uniform, this is Romeo Six Seven. We are three or four hundred meters from impact area, over.»
«Roger, incoming five seconds, danger close, I say again, danger close. Hunker down and cover your ears, soldier-boy! Splash in five seconds!»
«Sir, what's that?»
The lieutenant looked up and followed the private's view to a rapidly descending dot. As it lowered it loomed larger and larger. The precise size was hard to determine, but it was the biggest shell the young officer had ever seen or could possibly imagine. It looked like whatever it was was firing cars.
«Incoming! Everybody down!» the lieutenant screamed and demonstrated by throwing himself to the bottom of the slit trench.
The impact of the shell rivaled the explosion of the much closer bridge. The officer stumbled to his feet, partially stu
«Jesus Christ, sir,» yelled Sergeant Leo, «who the hell did you call?»
«Romeo Six Seven,» the radio crackled, «Did you observe the fall of shot?»
The shaken lieutenant picked up the microphone. «Uniform Four Seven, roger. Down seven five meters and fire for effect. And careful with that seventy-five meters! What unit is this, over?» It was lousy communications discipline to ask, but he felt like he needed to know what he had called down upon their heads.
«Romeo Six Seven, confirm down seventy-five meters and fire for effect. This is the USS Missouri, at your service. Hunker down for a nine-gun salute, Romeo.»
* * *
Kenallai cursed the evil harvest that inhabited this thrice-damned world.
«Threshkreen, indeed, my edas'antai,» murmured Kenallurial as the nearby guns hammered the remaining scouts of Sammadar as they swept down the main street of the small town.
He had convinced his edas'antai that the proper way to deal with this enemy was to observe his methods, then develop ways to combat them. Sammadar had been virtually wiped out assaulting the enemy lines to the south. But when the enemy's own guns destroyed their positions, Kenallurial's oolt'os were in position to exploit the break in the lines.
He had maintained a forward position, capturing rich booty on the way. But on approaching the town, which captured maps showed bisected by a large river, he had slowed, probing forward carefully, and instructing his junior Kessentai, with hard blows when necessary, to remain under cover. Now his oolts held a strategic ridgeline—one without noticeable booty, but a commanding view—and he and his edas'antai observed the destruction of the rival oolt'ondar from a house on the ridge.
Houses were a dangerous prospect on this thrice-damned planet, but the Posleen had slowly begun to recognize the signs. A single oolt'os would be sent to, carefully, open what looked to be the primary door of a building. If there was a beeping sound and a black box with a flashing light, the oolt'os would run like the demons of the sky were after it. Sometimes it made it, sometimes it did not. But at least they were not losing oolt'os by the double hand anymore.
This house had no flashing lights, nor demolition charges. It rested comfortably on the riverward shoulder of the ridge overlooking the town. The sign on the front, in the beastly language of this planet, said something about «Rock Shelf,» which certainly described the terrain.
The far bank of the river was steep as the side of a building, with a narrow road winding around to the right. The left was obscured. He could see a four-lane highway bridge downriver, and there was a small footbridge just below the house they occupied.
«We should send forces to seize that crossing!» snarled Ardan'aath, pointing to the four-lane bridge. «Why do we skulk in buildings?»
«Hmmm,» murmured Kenallai. The oolt'ondar was feeling unrecognized emotions. Among others, doubt.
«If you wish to try,» said Kenallurial, calmly, «go right ahead.»
Ardan'aath had not gotten to where he was by being stupid. The thrice-eaten-by-demons puppy had something up his sleeve. «Why don't you?»
«I prefer to live long enough to enjoy the fruits of my conquests,» answered the younger Kessentai, with an almost contemptuous snout wrinkle.
Ardan'aath started to say what he thought of such a cowardly approach, but was stopped by the raised hand of Kenallai.
«The argument is done,» he said, gesturing out the window.
They watched as Sammadar charged his main force towards the bridge, and as the front two oolt were swept away by the explosions.
«Sky demon shit,» snarled Ardan'aath, rounding on the junior Kessentai, «you knew!»
«I suspected.»
«Why?» asked Kenallai.
«It is what I would have done.»
«And what would you do next?»
Kenallurial looked towards the river below. «I would pound this valley to pieces as our comrades rush to try a crossing.» He pulled out the captured map. Ardan'aath turned away from the piece of alien garbage, but Kenallai bent over in interest.
«Look, we are here,» he said, pointing to the town. «This river stretches all the way to here,» he continued, pointing to the town of Manassas. «That is the first place that we can turn towards the treasures to the north.»
«What about this?» asked Kenallai, pointing to a symbol. «Is this not a closer bridge?» Near the possible defense point, but to the side, a bridge crossed.
«What bridge, my edas'antai?» asked the junior, respectfully, keeping his eyes on the map.
«Oh.» Once he thought about it, it was obvious that the threshkreen would destroy the bridge before it could be taken by the host.