big noncom in charge of the fi?rst platoon’s second squad, knowing that if anyone could keep the convicts in line, Ibo-Da could. And now, assuming that the Hudathan was telling the truth, his T-2, a head case named Lazlo Kappa, was dead. Why was anybody’s guess. Although it was common knowledge that the cyborg had been convicted of negligence where a friendly-fi?re incident was concerned. “What the hell happened? Over.”
“I was forced to dismount in order to retrieve an enemy com set, and the minute my back was turned, Five took off down the main street. He was yelling, ‘Shoot me!’ and they did. Three times. The last SLM took his head off. Over.”
Santana remembered the explosions he’d heard earlier and swore. Because as a result of Kappa’s death he was one T-2 short, one of his squad leaders was on foot, and valuable time had been lost. “Okay, keep up as best you can. . . . First platoon, form on me, we’re going to take this party downtown. Over.”
Snyder turned left onto the main street, and units from both squads followed. The wreckage of Kappa’s war form was scattered far and wide. “This is X-ray Two,” the female voice said. “There are approximately three-zero, repeat three-zero, XL heat sigs moving north toward your position. Over.”
Santana said, “Roger that,” and was just about to issue orders when the ground began to shake, and a swirling mass of fear-crazed dooths appeared to the south. The stampeding animals fi?lled the street from side to side as they sought to escape the spear-brandishing bandits who pursued them from behind. It was a clever strategy on Throatcut’s part and a very real threat. Because if the dooths could knock the T-2s down, the bandits could attack the cyborgs with SLMs, grenades, and rifl?e fi?re. But there wasn’t enough time to retreat. That left the cavalry offi?cer with a single choice.
“Stand fast!” Santana ordered, as rifl?e shots were heard, and a wall of fl?esh and bone thundered toward them. “First rank, kneel! Prepare to fi?re! Fire! Second rank, prepare to fi?re. . . . Fire!”
Even though there hadn’t been much time in which to prepare, the net effect was to focus the combined fi? repower of six Trooper IIs and seven bio bods on the charging animals. The results were horrendous. The front rank of dooths seemed to falter as the full weight of the fi?re swept across them. Their heads went down, and some of the big beasts completed full somersaults, as a blood mist rose to envelope the oncoming herd.
The second and third ranks continued to bawl loudly as the bandits prodded them from behind and drove the animals forward. It was diffi?cult for the dooths to climb up and over the bodies heaped in front of them, and many beasts died trying, but some were successful. And, because the desperate animals could absorb up to twenty .50caliber slugs before fi?nally going down, each successive wave managed to advance.
Having dismounted, Santana felt his stomach fi?ll with lead as he emptied clip after clip into the oncoming horde. Could the platoon stop the stampede? Or would the dooths roll right over them? The outcome was still very much in doubt. Meanwhile, the din around the offi?cer continued to grow as the T-2s fi?red both their heavy machine guns and their energy cannons. Gunsmoke swirled, and the acrid stench of ozone fi?lled the offi?cer’s nostrils as Maria Gomez appeared at Santana’s side. The squad leader was armed with a grenade launcher, and each time one of her rounds landed among the dooths, the resulting explosion sent a gout of gore up into the air. A bloody mist blew back over the animals and dyed them red. Finally, just as Santana was beginning to wonder if the stampede would ever end, the remaining dooths began to falter. “Second rank, cease fi?re!” the cavalry offi?cer ordered, as he took his place on Snyder’s broad back. “First rank, charge!”
By happenstance, the fi?rst rank consisted of Gomez on Vantha, Sato on Prill, and Darby on Nacky. All of them fi?red their weapons as they made their way forward. “Ignore the dooths!” Santana shouted. “Kill the bandits!”
The order made sense since the bandits were driving the squealing beasts forward, but a price had to be paid. Nacky fi?red, attempted to sidestep an enraged bull, and felt the dooth slam into his side. The T-2 lost his balance and fell. Darby barely managed to jump clear and take refuge in a doorway. Nacky wasn’t so lucky and took a terrible pounding as the last of the panicky animals trampled him.
But Santana and the rest of his platoon continued to advance, fi?ring on targets of opportunity as they entered the small town square. Dead villagers dangled from the wooden lampposts that circled the plaza. Each corpse wore a mantle of crusty snow and the ropes creaked as the bodies swayed. “This is Alpha Six,” Santana said, as Snyder paused to scan the area with her sensors. “That’s the council building over on the right. . . . Alpha Two-Six will secure the area while Six-One and I take a peek inside. Over.”
Gomez nodded. “Roger, that. Okay, people, spread out. And put those sensors on max. The party isn’t over yet.”
The council building’s front door was open, which was an ominous sign insofar as Santana was concerned because it suggested that at least some of the bandits had escaped. Possibly including Throatcut and his renegade Trooper II.
“Let’s keep a sharp eye out for booby traps,” Santana suggested, as Snyder approached the door.
The cyborg paused to look for trip wires, pressure plates, or any other signs that an explosive device might be present. Then, having assured herself that the way was clear, the T-2 advanced.
Santana ducked his head as Snyder entered the highceilinged room, wrinkled his nose in disgust, and was struck by the horror of what surrounded him. Disemboweled bodies hung along both walls. Intestines dangled like ropes of obscene sausages each ending in a pool of blood. Cookware and other odds and ends rattled as Snyder kicked them out of the way on her way to the platform and the chair it supported.
Santana didn’t know the village chief, but would have been willing to bet that the severed head that had been left on the thronelike piece of furniture was not only his, but a message of defi?ance from Nofear Throatcut. But where had the bandit gone? The offi?cer could guess. “Alpha-Six to X-ray Two. . . . Please confi?rm movement of hostiles toward the south end of the valley. Over.”
“Confi?rmed,” came the almost immediate response.
“Over.”
“Copy that Bravo Six?” Santana inquired, knowing that Farnsworth and the second platoon were deployed south of the village.
“I not only copy, I can see the bastards coming,”
Farnsworth replied gruffl?y. “And one of them is riding a T-2. Over.”
“That’s him,” Santana emphasized. “Don’t let the bastard escape! And watch for friendlies. . . . We’ll tackle the bastards from behind. Six out. Over.”
“This is X-ray Two,” the unseen woman said. “I have two fl?y-forms chasing their tails at angels twenty. Would
