A Stitch in Time

“Nothing’s going on that’s going to help us,” I replied, concerned that we were losing precious time. “Let’s go.”

“We’re supposed to wait for the engagement,” Three resisted.

“Let’s go–that’s an order!” I was the leader, Charaban had told me during the last pla

We began the slow crawl. I immediately flattened and spread my consciousness, feeling my breathing respond accordingly: movement only on a long outgoing breath, complete stillness on the intake. The three of us had to be synchronized, and I could feel Four adapt beautifully to my pattern. Three struggled, as I knew he would at the begi

We heard the response to the probe, and as I had anticipated it revealed nothing about the flanks–at least on our southern side. I had no idea how they would angle the flank out from the central defensive position, and this meant we had to proceed with extreme vigilance from the begi

Then I heard a sound coming from the darkness in front of us: I had forgotten that the lack of wind could also work to our advantage. It couldn’t be their flank, it was too soon. And why were they moving? We stopped and listened as the sound, a slow and muffled crunching, came closer and extended from right to left. The flank was moving toward us! I could make out the shadowy outlines of enemy soldiers, evenly spaced and moving with precise coordination in order to minimize all sound. It appeared that the flank was executing a hinging maneuver that would sweep its southern side. If the northern flank was doing the same maneuver, then both flanks, co

They were almost on top of us. This was our first test. I prayed that Three and Four were focused, and that . . . . An enemy foot came down next to my head; the other foot brushed my side pack. I could hear Three’s breathing turn ragged, but thankfully the passing crunch, crunch, crunch was dominant. They passed . . . and I waited to see if there was any activity from the north that would indicate exposure of the other team. Nothing but the receding crunch, crunch, crunch. Three’s breathing began to settle, and we moved ahead.

Time becomes meaningless working with this kind of concentration; only objects and events mark progress. But I knew our coordination was strong and sustained. This had been my concern from the begi

At one point we encountered a much thi

We stopped, and returning anxiety dissolved our unity. As we waited, I could feel the night chill creeping into my body and creating a tremulous reaction. The more I tried to resist, the more I trembled. I was now afraid that my cooling body would betray me to the approaching soldiers, who were just behind us. I was pla

Suddenly the crunching sound began again. I put my hand on my phaser. I was on the verge of jumping up and taking out as many of the enemy as I could. But now the sound was receding. We must have gone beyond the limit of the flank’s hinging arc. Yes, they were moving back in the other direction. That meant we now had a clear path to a position behind the redoubt from which we could stage our attack. If only Eight’s group had also eluded their flank.

We moved ahead at a faster pace. I wasn’t sure how much time we had before light, but I knew it wasn’t much. The Ramaklan had positioned their defenses so that the sun would rise in the eyes of Charaban’s attacking force. We had to time our diversionary action so that they would have the same problem when they faced us. If they were blinded by the first rays of sunlight hitting them at eye level, that would wipe out some of their advantage. Once again the three of us moved as one, and I began to feel more confident. I speeded our pace until I sensed that we were close to the redoubt. I stopped, took out my night vision lens, and there it was–the distinctive outcropping of rock that faced our side. We had calculated correctly, and there wasn’t much more distance to travel. Judging from the faint ghosting of light on the horizon line, there also wasn’t much time before we became visible. We started our final move around to the rear of the rock. The ghosting light was also creeping toward the redoubt, and the slight movement of a solar wind began to stir the air around us. I was aware that the success of the mission now depended on how well we were able to work with the elements. Or I thought I was aware.

Just as I was looking for Eight’s group and a place to stop, a faint and sudden shadow accompanied by a whooshing sound and slap of air flew by my head. My heart leaped into my mouth; I thought we were being attacked. And we were, but not by the Ramaklan. I looked up, and a swad of hongewere taking advantage of the faint light to do some hunting–we must have looked like well‑fed sand worms. I could now make out the outlines of Three and Four.

“Cover your heads and stay still,” I whispered. “They’ll pass.” I pulled my sun cover down and curled up. I felt a sharp, painful stab on my shoulder, but I didn’t react. I wanted them to pass without drawing the attention of the enemy.

“Get away! Get away from me!” Three was on his feet, screaming at the attacking hongewho were screaming in response. His huge form was now the focus of their attention, as he waved his phaser and tried to take aim. He stumbled over Four.

“Get down, Three! We’ll be spotted!” I whispered hoarsely, but I knew it was too late.

“Who’s there?” a Ramaklan soldier called out from the rock.

“What are we going to do? They know we’re here!” Four’s eyes were enormous. Three was still doing his grotesque dance to ward off the honge,who were cut‑ting and slashing from all directions. The predators obviously had drawn blood and were going for more. The light was growing stronger; we had to take some action.

“Declare yourself or we’ll fire,” the same Remaklan voice demanded.

“Cover me,” I told Four.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Just keep the hongeoff me!” I jumped up. “It’s all right! We’ve got him!” I a