“Even you, Lord Priest?” Risa asked.
“Even I,” he confirmed. “Even I have the battle lust upon me, if not the skill or training in war the smallest youngling has received. I yearn to do as you just did-slay the enemy that threatens my people, our way of life, our very existence as a species.” He looked at his hands, held out before him. “I do not have the skill for that, and after what I saw… once… it’s frustrating. In a way I envy your brother. The skill I now crave came so easily to him, he never even knew it was there. I understand why the B’mbaadan queen thinks so highly of him. Hers have ever been a warlike people, and must recognize the talent”-he blinked dismay-“the gift for war when they see it.”
He straightened. “I’ve learned much, however, about how battles are shaped. Major Shinya and the others have taught me that.”
“How is this battle taking shape?” Risa asked, and Adar sighed.
“Very much as planned, I’m afraid.”
Risa was confused. “But that is good, surely?”
Adar shook his head. “I believe the single greatest lesson in war we’ve learned from the Amer-i-caans is to hope for the best, but plan for the worst. Hope is necessary; without it you’re defeated before you even begin. But you must plan for the worst, so if it happens you will be prepared.” He blinked at her. “I fear this battle is going almost exactly as planned.”
A roar came from beyond the wall, and a new flurry of bolts rained down beyond them. Warriors tumbled from their posts, and Risa hurried to fill a gap.
“I have no objection,” she shouted over her shoulder, “as long as the plan was for victory!”
Perry Brister gulped water from an offered gourd. It soothed the pain in his throat a lwould restore his destroyed voice. Shinya and Rolak also drank as the gourd was passed to them. They gasped their thanks to the youngling who brought it. It had been dark for some hours, but with the fires burning in every direction they could see surprisingly well. Before them now, the coastal plain and the gap were almost deserted. A short while earlier Grik horns had sounded again, from the direction of the city, and as if it had been a dog whistle from hell, the Grik before the fort turned as one and practically fled in the direction of the sound. Across the gap and up through the road cut streamed the Grik as fast as they could, toward Baalkpan. None remained behind to even watch their trapped prey, except the wounded and the dead.
Thousands of Grik bodies lay heaped to the wall, and the three thousand mixed troops occupying the fort had been reduced by nearly a third. Yet they’d held. Now they could begin to prepare for what Brister had been planning ever since he silenced the guns.
“How did you know they would leave?” Shinya finally asked.
“I didn’t,” Brister rasped. “I thought we’d have to fight through them. Those horn calls must have been a summons for all their reserves. They have to be gearing up for their final push.”
They saw nothing of the city besides the flickering light of the fires, and the smoke was so dense they could hardly breathe. Cannon fire still thundered defiantly, however, and bright flashes lit the smoke-foggy sky to the north.
“I suggest we let the troops rest a couple hours, if we can,” Brister gasped. “Then we’ll form them up.”
“I certainly hope you know what you’re doing,” said Lord Rolak.
Perry shrugged. “Hey, this stunt is mainly based on what you guys told me-and Bradford’s cockeyed notions. I have no idea if it’ll work. Maybe we’ll at least create a diversion.”
“It will be better than dying here,” Shinya agreed, “trapped and cut off. You were right to silence the guns. There was nothing more they could contribute.” He paused. “I apologize.”
Brister waved it away. “Nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I called you a Jap bastard.”
Shinya chuckled. “I called you worse. In Japanese.”
A runner approached. “Sirs,” he said breathlessly, “the iron ship of the enemy is passing into the bay. More Grik ships are leading it in.”
They looked to the west. Even in the darkness they saw the black, pagodalike superstructure of Amagi silhouetted against the sky. Smoke laced with sparks swirled from her stack, and small shapes moved behind the railings as she steamed relentlessly into the bay. It was a terrifyingly vulnerable moment. The ship was absolutely enormous, and in spite of her litany of imperfectly repaired wounds, she radiated an overwhelming, malevolent power. At this range her main guns were little threat to the fort, but the numerous secondaries and antiaircraft armaments certainly were. In the light of the many fires, the occupants of Fort Atkinson had to be visible. Surely they see us, Brister thought.
If theyiv›y past the troublesome fort guarding the mouth of the bay. The Uul that landed on the southern coast seemed to have fared somewhat better.
Tsalka nodded. “At last, perhaps we will gain some advantage for having tolerated those insufferable creatures,” he said, meaning the Japanese.
“Kurokawa’s plan seems to be working, Lord Regent,” Esshk agreed. “His insistence on multiple attacks is contrary to doctrine, and at first glance seems to fly in the face of the very principle of the Swarm-yet never have we been able to utilize so much of our force at once. Many of our Uul have been slain-an unprecedented number, I fear-yet we have certainly ‘softened up’ the prey in preparation for his mighty ship to enter the bay. He did also put a stop to the slaughter of our ships by the guns in the fort. I am inclined to consider it a brilliant tactic.”
“His ‘tactics’ are indeed effective. Wasteful of Uul, but effective,” Tsalka agreed.
“The destruction of the fort of the prey was impressive, and accomplished at such a distance so… effortlessly… We would have to watch these new hunters, even if they were not so disagreeable.”
“Their power is great”-Esshk nodded-“but so is the power of the prey.” He hesitated, then mused aloud, “Worthy prey after all.” He glanced at the regent consort. “Perhaps we should have made the Offer? Never has any Swarm been mauled so. I fear, no matter how this battle turns, even this Invincible Swarm will remain but an empty shell.”
“Perhaps,” Tsalka agreed, and uttered a long, sad hiss. “But that is the lot of the Uul: to die in the battle of the hunt, doing what they love, what they were bred to do. But there is no way we could have made the Offer. We face the ancient Tree Prey, the ones that escaped! They were not worthy of the Offer before, and long have we hunted them. The prey may have grown since last we met, but it’s still the same prey. The Offer cannot be made. Even so, I grieve for the Uul we will lose in this hunt. And I do envy them,” he added wistfully.
“Of course. As do I.”
Tsalka watched the massive iron ship drive deeper into the bay. “We should advance, I think,” he said. “It’s not the place of the Hij to gather the joy of the hunt to ourselves, but I would not have it said the New Hunters alone were responsible for success. I fear the Uul look to the iron ship too much as it is.”
“I agree,” General Esshk replied. “As may we all before this hunt is over.”
“Lookout reports Jap battle cruiser, bearing two zero five degrees!” Reynolds shouted. He gulped. “She’s coming in.”
Walker had been steaming back and forth on the west side of the bay at the mouth of the inlet for over two hours now. To all appearances, she looked as if she were watching the distant battle with impotent frustration, her magazines empty at last. That wasn’t far from the truth.
Matt tried to freeze the expression on his face so the searing apprehension he felt wouldn’t show. All of Walker ’s actions that day, and now into the night, had been building to this precise moment-when she’d deliberately put herself in Aazihat the moment was finally at hand, doubt and fear warred with the certainty of necessity. So far everything had gone as they’d expected. In other words, nothing had broken their way. They’d slaughtered the enemy on a wholesale level beyond comprehension, beyond what any truly sentient species could endure, and reports from the city told of Grik piled as high as the walls. But still they came. It was up to Walker and Mahan now, just as they’d expected and dreaded. It was up to them to strike a blow that might shatter the enemy’s single-minded, maniacal will. To replicate the panic they’d seen in front of Aryaal. Hopefully.
There was no guarantee the enemy would break, even if the plan succeeded. They had only marginal evidence to support Bradford’s theory of “Grik Rout.” They’d seen it once at Aryaal, and once aboard Big Sal. When things had turned suddenly and overwhelmingly against them, and the Grik found themselves on the defense, they’d fled in mindless terror. It was like a dog chasing a bear. The bear was fearless when attacking, but when attacked, its only thought was escape. They were banking everything that the Grik behaved much the same way. There was glaring evidence the reverse was also true, however. When they’d followed the Grik belowdecks on Revenge, the creatures had fought like cornered animals. Of course, that was what they’d been, after all. Just as the bear would
