“God,” he said, as fire spattered across the beach.
“What isit?” Jase asked.
He said, faintly, not quite believing his own conclusion, “I thinkit’s the Dur island ferry.”
27
There were black-uniformed Guild among the new arrivals. Bren could see them walking across the beach, saw the use of pocket coms, and held his breath and hoped. For a moment firing was very intense and he shouted aloud, “Finesse, nadiin! We have people out there!”
Someone came directly toward their shelter, not rapidly, a little bent and limping, and he ducked in fear of having mistaken the situation. He was about to advise Jase to run for one of the inflatables, when a shadow came to the rock, leaned there, black leather sparking firelight off metal studs, and—he was sure it was Nawari, of Ilisidi’s service—said, “Are you all right, nandiin?”
“Perfectly fine,” Bren said, and stood up as Jase rose to his feet beside him—if Nawari was standing up, he dared. “Jago and Banichi and I think Cenedi went that way!” Fire was still going on. He was shaky in the knees. “Can you spare a clip, nadi?”
Nawari gave him one, and took off running.
“Come on,” he said to Jase, and ran after the man, toward the bank of rocks that, he saw in the firelight, supported a paved road right at cliffside, until pavement lost itself on the beach.
Thatwas where the intense fighting had been going on. That was where he found others of their group, lord Geigi among them, and Ilisidi; and Jago, who had a bloody bandage just above the top of her boot and who was getting off shots down into the dark. As he and Jase slid in beside her, he could just make out the tops of a group of trucks in that direction, between them and Saduri Township. She spared only a dart of her eyes toward them.
“What target?” he asked her.
“Those trucks,” she said. “Aim high! My partner’s a fool!”
He was alarmed. “Where’s Banichi?” he asked. He saw gun flashes out in the dark where he thought was water, and realized then it was the fishing boats. Geigi’s other Guild protection, Gesirimu, had been with them, and theywere running close to shore, firing from the water toward the trucks on that road.
“He said he’d get the trucks!” Jago said, stopping to shove in another clip.
“Are we sure who’s out there in the trucks, Jago-ji? Jase’s partner is missing!”
“We’re sure. Hanks has a pocket com. She’s appealed to all of us to disintegrate and abase our weapons.”
It was surreal. The paidhiin were shooting at each other. His friendBanichi was out there in the dark with bullets flying from the water and from their position, and he opened fire high, with the thought of knocking rock down off the cliffs above those trucks. He was scared of hitting Banichi.
Jago’s fire joined his, lower and more dangerous to the enemy, he was sure. And another someone joined them.
“Nandiin!” a young voice said. “My father believedthe dowager’s men! I have a gun! Where do I shoot!”
“Above the trucks!” Bren said. “Aim at the cliff. Produce ricochets!”
“Yes!” Rejiri said, lifted his high-caliber rifle, and fired.
Fire blossomed in the trucks, and in a flash that imprinted trucks and figures on the retina, light stained the cliffs, the sand, the sea, lit the boats and the rocks they were using for cover. The shock went through the ground and into their bones and before the light died a piece of the cliff was peeling away and headed down toward the trucks. There was the sound of one truck engine, speeding away.
“Ten, ten,” Jago said anxiously into the com.
“ Got them,” Banichi’s voice came back. “All but one, damn it.”
That truck was headed back to Saduri, by the sound of the motor fading. Jago rattled off a string of verbal code that Bren guessed was their identities. It ended with, “The Dur island ferry,” and drew an astonished and rude remark from the com.
A hand closed on Bren’s shoulder, Jase’s, in the silence of the guns. He reached his own out and closed on Jase’s arm, shaky, feeling the chill of the wind now that the area was quiet. Jago went on, apparently trying to talk to someone else.
Then a voice came back and Jago said, “Ten, ten, four, sixteen. Headed your way.”
“ Mistake on their part,” a voice came back. And something exploded in the distance, another shock echoing and echoing off the cliffs.
There was silence after, except the ringing in the ears.
“ Lord Tatiseigi’s compliments,” the com said distinctly.
Deana Hanks was dead. Banichi said he could verify that and it was probably better not to go down to the trucks, but Bren did. The place stank of smoke, of oil, and ocean—of burning, mostly, and while he was there, a small rock gave way high up the cliffs and fell with a pelting of gravel.
Six humans. At least—he was relatively sure it was six. More atevi. Twisted metal, the paint burned off. Banichi had gotten them with a grenade he’d gotten from up at Mogari-nai.
And Tatiseigi’s forces, while the elderly lord had ridden down in the van, had occupied the township proper and thrown up a roadblock with the help of residents. So they heard on the radio.
Fishing boats had come in as close as they could to shore within Saduri Harbor. They were anchored there.
One could just see the lines that ran down to the water. Bren began to be aware of the dawn, as he and Banichi walked back toward the beach.
Jase and Jago waited for him where the paved road gave way to sand and a view of two wrecked boats, the beached island ferry, and a sea full of pleasure yachts and working boats, all in the shadow of the Saduri headland.
Jago had his computer. The case was mostly melted. It was a wonder the strap held.
“Bren-ji, I did my best,” Jago said.
“Jago, you did wonderfully well.” He took it, such as it was. What it could do, it had done. Data recovery might turn up something, but he doubted it. “How are youdoing?”
“Nothing serious, nadi. The dowager is well, lord Geigi is well. Cenedi has a cut from glass. Wehave taken no serious injuries. Lord Geigi’s pilot has cuts and both arms broken, but he did excellently well to steer us about into the shore when the bridge was hit.”
“One is veryglad, Jago.” Bren leaned against the rock and caught his breath. Or tried to. He pointed to the ferry. “Did you know about that?”
“One had noidea, nadi,” Jago said. “Our people there were under orders not to use radio, and they didn’t. The boy—and his father—called in certain of the island folk. And saw the fires and came in.”
“Definitely it was Hanks,” Bren said. “It’s a mess down there. We won’t know what happened—but she musthave hit the rocks at the point.” He was looking out to sea as he said it. And saw, among the atevi yachts in the haze of smoke and morning, a motor-sailer, a tall-masted boat that didn’t belong in this company, gliding along under sail.
It didn’t belong in this company.
It didn’t belong in these waters. It belonged up on the north shore of Mospheira.
“My God,” he said, and then in Ragi: “That’s my brother’s boat!”
“Bren!” a male voice yelled, and he knew the man who’d come running toward him from the grounded runabout—a man in a pale fishing jacket and a hat, a ridiculous hat stuck about with fishing floats. Yolanda Mercheson stepped over the side of the orange fabric boat, with him, and third was Shawn Tyers. Yolanda was trying to run, not quite steady on land-legs; and about then Toby was all his field of vision, Toby unshaven, looking as if he’d had no sleep for days, and grinning from ear to ear.