Mutineer's Moon

those less technologically advanced than themselves, but right off the top of his head, Hatcher couldn’t recall a single case in which a weaker force had defeated one that was equally advanced, more numerous, and knew what the hell it was doing. Especially not when the stronger side were also the barbarians.

His command vehicle reached the highway and turned north, heading for the vertol waiting to carry him back to his HQ, and he rubbed his eyes wearily. He and Weintraub had to get their heads together, though God only knew what good it was going to do. So far, all anyone had been able to do was beef up civil defense and keep their heads down. They were too outclassed for anything else, but if Hector’s people went down, it was Hatcher’s duty to do what he could.

Even if it hadn’t been, he would have tried, for there was one thing upon which Gerald Hatcher was savagely determined. The bastards who didn’t care how many innocent people they slaughtered were not going to take over his world without a fight, however advanced they were.

“Oh, Jesus!” Hector MacMahan whispered. His strong, tanned face was white as he listened to the reports flowing over the government and civilian emergency radio nets, and Colin reached over to lay a hand upon his shoulder.

“It wasn’t our doing, Hector,” he said quietly.

“Oh yes it was.” MacMahan’s bitter voice was as savage as his eyes. “We didn’t use those fucking monsters, but we provoked them into doing it! And do me a favor and don’t tell me we didn’t have any choice!”

Colin met his eyes for a moment, then patted the colonel’s shoulder once, gently, and leaned back in his own chair. Hector’s bitterness wasn’t directed at him, though he would have preferred for MacMahan to have an external focus for his self-loathing. Yet even in his pain, Hector had put his finger on it. They hadn’t had a choice … and Colin wondered how many commanders over the ages had tried to assuage their consciences with thoughts like that.

“All right,” he said finally. He reached out through his implant to shut off the emergency workers’ voices, and MacMahan looked at him angrily, as if he resented the interruption of his self-imposed auditory penance. “We know what happened. The question is whether or not it worked. ’Tanni?”

“I can but say it should,” Jiltanith said softly, and managed a ghost of the triumphant smiles they’d shared before the casualty reports started coming in. “Had they spied our other craft, then would they ha’ sought the death of all. So far as they may tell, they slew our force entire.”

“Horus?”

“ ’Tanni’s right. We’ve done all we can. I pray the Maker it was enough.” The old Imperial looked down at his hands and refused to look back up. Isis hugged him gently, and when she looked up to meet Colin’s eyes her bright tears stopped him from asking her opinion. He glanced at MacMahan, instead.

“Oh, sure,” the colonel said savagely. “My wonderful fucking plan worked just fine. All those extra bodies’ll be a big help, too, won’t they?”

“All right,” Colin said again, his own voice carefully neutral. “In that case, we’ll suspend all further offensive operations immediately. There’s nothing we can do but wait, anyway.” Heads nodded, and he rose. “Then I recommend we all get something to eat and some rest.”

He extended his hand to Jiltanith without even thinking about it, and she took it. The warmth of her grip made him realize what he’d done, and he looked over at her quickly. She met his gaze with a small, sad smile and tightened her clasp as she stood beside him. They were almost exactly the same height, Colin noted, and for some no longer quite so obscure reason that pleased him even in their shared pain.

Horus and Isis rose more slowly, but MacMahan remained seated. Colin looked down at him and started to speak, but Jiltanith squeezed his hand and gave her head a tiny shake. He hesitated a moment longer, then thought better of it, and they walked wordlessly from the conference room.

The hatch closed behind them, but not quickly enough to cut off the mutter of ghostly, angry, weeping voices as MacMahan turned the radios back on.

“So much for those smart-assed bastards!” Anu gloated as Ganhar finished his report. “Caught them with their pants down and kicked them right in the ass, by the Maker! Good work, Ganhar. Very good!”

“Thank you, Chief.” It was becoming harder for Ganhar to hold himself together, and he wondered what was really happening deep inside him.

“What next?” Anu demanded, and his hand-rubbing glee nauseated the Operations head. “Got any more targets picked out?”

“I don’t think we need them, Chief,” Ganhar said carefully. He saw Anu’s instant disappointment, like the resentment of a little boy denied a third helping of dessert, and made himself continue.

“It looks like we’ve hurt them worse than the numbers alone suggest. They haven’t mounted a single attack in the thirty-six hours since Shirhansu’s people pulled out. Either they’re rethinking or they’ve already rethought, Chief. Whichever it is, they’re not going to lock horns with us again after this. That being the case, do we really want to do any more damage than we have to? Anything we smash is going to have to be rebuilt before we can get our other projects back on line.”

“That’s true,” Anu said unwillingly. He looked at his head of security. “Jantu? You’ve been damned quiet. What’d you think?”

“I think we should give them a few more licks for good measure,” Jantu said, but his voice was less forceful than of old. He hadn’t realized how much he’d actually come to enjoy his affair with Bahantha. Her death had shaken him badly, but the blow to his ambitions was even worse, and Ganhar’s and Inanna’s alliance had come as a terrible shock.

“Ganhar’s right, Chief.” Inanna eyed the Security chief coldly, as if to confirm his thoughts. “The real problem’s always been Nergal’s people. Killing more degenerates is pointless, unless we want to take over openly.”

“No,” Anu said, shaking his head. “It’s bad enough they know we’re here; if we come out into the open, there’s too much chance of losing control.”

“I agree,” Ganhar said quietly, locking eyes with Jantu. “Right now, the degenerates don’t have any idea where to look for us, but that could change if we get too open, and our tech advantage doesn’t mean we’re invulnerable. There’s more than one way someone can get at us.”

Jantu winced as Anu joined the other two in glaring at him. In retrospect, it was obvious from the surveillance reports that Ramman had acted unnaturally ever since his return to the enclave, and if Jantu had been less shaken by the realization that Ganhar and Inanna were leagued against him he probably would have noticed it and hauled the man in for questioning. As it was, he’d let matters slip so badly it had been Ganhar, his worst rival, who’d noticed something and dragged Ramman in to confront him.

The Operations head was damned lucky to be alive, Jantu thought viciously. Somehow Ramman had gotten his hands on an energy pistol despite his suspect status—something Jantu still couldn’t understand—and only the fact that Ganhar had out—drawn him had saved his life. Damn Ramman! The least he might have done was kill the son-of-a-bitch!

Unfortunately, he hadn’t, and Ganhar had not only preserved his own life, but uncovered the worst security breach in the enclave’s history: a self-confessed spy who’d admitted he was working for Horus. And the fact that Horus had gotten to Ramman without being detected was Jantu’s failure, not Ganhar’s. His failure to spot Ramman, coupled with the fact that it was his bitterest rival Ramman had almost killed, had seemed dangerously close to collusion rather than carelessness, and Jantu knew Anu thought so.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admitted now, the words choking in his throat. “But if so, what else should we do?”

“We ought to make sure we’re right about their reaction,” Ganhar said positively. “Our important degenerates have been safe inside the shield, but Nergal’s bunch’ve blown the crap out of our outside networks. Let’s start rebuilding while the rest of the degenerates are still disorganized. There’s no way the other side could miss our doing that. If they’ve still got the guts to face us, they’ll go after our degenerates as soon as they spot them.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Anu agreed. “Which batch do you want to throw out first?”

“Let’s sit tight on our people in government and industry.” Ganhar had personally run the background checks on too many of those people for it to be likely Ramman’s courier was among them. “They’re too valuable to