Now that Santana had a clear mental picture of how the company was deployed, it was time to look at the needs of his own platoon, and fi?gure out how to link up with his legionnaires. Since Gomez and the rest of the fi?rst squad were north of his position, and therefore closer to the fi?nal objective, the platoon leader decided to remain stationary while he waited for Sergeant Ibo-Da and his squad to arrive from the south.
A decision that was further justifi?ed by the fact that according to the topo map projected on the inside surface of the offi?cer’s face shield, one of the RAVs was located only a half mile away. Which meant that he and Snyder could secure the robot while the second squad caught up. Having dragged the debris into the jungle and concealed it as best he could, Santana helped Snyder clamp the auxiliary supply module to her chest. With that accomplished, Santana sent two succinct radio messages. One to DeCosta, letting the major know what he planned to do, and the other to his squad leaders.
Then it was time to climb up onto Snyder’s back and strap in. The T-2 could “see” the RAV on the topo map superimposed over her electronic vision, so there was no need for the bio bod to do anything other than duck branches and become more familiar with his environment as the cyborg carried him through the jungle. By that time the local residents had recovered from the violent manner in which the alien invaders had crashed through the upper regions of their largely green universe and were busy screeching, howling, and chittering at the ten-foot-tall, two-headed monster lumbering through their forest.
Santana leaned backwards and let the harness accept his weight as he looked up through the sun-dappled foliage to patches of blue sky. Every once in a while it was possible to catch a glimpse of sleek bodies as they jumped from branch to branch and gibbered at each other.
Water splashed up and away from Snyder’s blocky feet as she forded a shallow stream, made her way up the opposite bank, and followed a game trail into the forest. The RAV was right where it was supposed to be, standing near the remains of its pod, when the T-2 and bio bod entered the newly created clearing. The robot consisted of two eight-foot-long sections linked by an accordion-style joint and supported by four articulated legs. Though not intended for offensive purposes, each RAV was equipped with two forward-facing machine guns and a grenade launcher. Which, when integrated into a defensive perimeter, could be quite useful in repelling ground attacks. Having dismounted, and with the T-2 there to provide security, Santana gathered the pieces of the RAV’s specially designed pod together and carried them over to a natural depression, where he did what he could to hide them without killing any of the vegetation. And that was when the offi?cer came across an empty meal pak with Ramanthian script on it, plus more than two dozen pieces of broken shell, which suggested that whatever had once been inside the egg had hatched. That was interesting because the legionnaire had read all of Batkin’s reports at least three times, and therefore knew that thousands, if not millions of Ramanthian tricentennial eggs, had been transported to Jericho and “planted” by specially trained teams of civilians.
A fi?rst, insofar as the experts knew, since it was believed that all of the previous megahatchings had taken place on Hive, where they had been responsible for social upheaval, prolonged warfare, and extended famines. Problems the Queen and her advisors were trying to avoid this time around. Santana put both the empty meal pak and a fragment of eggshell in his backpack and made a mental note to share both the artifacts and his conclusions with DeCosta. Sergeant Ibo-Da and the rest of his squad arrived shortly thereafter. Good-natured insults fl?ew back and forth between the cyborgs, and Snyder gave as good as she got as the combined force left the clearing. Darby and Nacky had the point, followed by Santana on Snyder, the RAV, Shootstraight on Ichiyama, and Ibo-Da on Kappa. The last two had the drag position, which meant Kappa had to walk backwards much of the time in an effort to protect the column’s six.
But there were no threats in the area. None the T-2s could detect anyway—as the huge cyborgs made their way north. There was something about the rhythmic motion of Snyder’s body, the comforting click, whine, thud of her gigantic footsteps, and the now-familiar scenery that made Santana sleepy. But it wasn’t until Darby’s voice came over the radio that the offi?cer realized he’d been dozing. “This is Alpha Three-Four. . . . There’s a clearing up ahead—
with a large corpse at the center of it. Six or seven dogsized things were gnawing on the body but took off once we arrived. Over.”
“This is Alpha Six. . . . Hold your position,” Santana instructed. “We’re coming up behind you. How ’bout it Alpha Three-Three? Have you got video for me? Over.”
Santana eyed his HUD, saw a box appear, and watched video roll inside of it. The fi?rst thing he saw was foliage, an opening, and the clearing beyond. The badly ravaged carcass was clear to see. But the predators, or scavengers as the case might be, were little more than a blur as they took off in a half dozen directions.
Santana chose one of the images by focusing on it and blinking twice. The fugitive froze, grew larger, and began to rotate as the ITC system took the visual data and made an educated guess as to what the rest of the creature would look like. And the result looked very familiar indeed. Because like their human counterparts juvenile Ramanthians were known to follow what the xenobiologists called, “. . . a simple development pattern.” Meaning that nymphs looked like adults, except that they were smaller, and, judging from the video, a helluva lot faster. All of which served to confi?rm Santana’s hypothesis that the tricentennials were not only hatching out, but well into the equivalent of early adolescence, a stage of development the Confederacy’s scientists knew very little about. Especially in the wild since what little information they had pertained to nymphs hatched in civilized settings.
Snyder paused next to Nacky, which allowed Santana to nod at Darby before directing his T-2 out into the clearing. The carcass was surrounded by a cloud of voracious insects, and big gaping wounds made it diffi?cult to tell what the creature looked like before the nymphs tore into it, other than to say that it had a relatively small head, a highly specialized claw-tipped tentacle that extended from what would otherwise have been described as its nose, and four short legs. Judging from appearances, the Ramanthians had swarmed the beast, opened its belly with their parrotlike nose hooks, and ripped its guts out. Not a pleasant way to die, but interesting, because it implied some sort of group cohesion.
“Alpha Six to all units,” Santana said as he looked down at what remained of the jungle animal. “Be advised that a large number of Ramanthian nymphs have hatched out and are on the loose. They could be dangerous, especially if encountered in large numbers, so keep your eyes peeled. Over and out.”
What followed came so quickly it was as if DeCosta had been waiting to punch the “transmit” button. And rather than utilize the command push, so his comments would be heard by Santana alone, he chose to broadcast them to the entire company. “I will be the judge of what does and does not constitute a threat to this team,” DeCosta grated. “Which means your role is to submit what you consider to be relevant data to me. At which time I will analyze it and notify the team if that’s appropriate. Understood? Over.”
Ibo-Da and the rest of his squad didn’t approve of the rebuke and directed disbelieving looks at each other, but there was nothing they could do but glower and look uncomfortable as Santana gave the only response he could.
“Yes, sir. Over.”
“Good,” DeCosta concluded stiffl?y. “Zebra Six, out.”
