“Best get inside,” Banichi said. “All of us. We’ll be passing close to a sniper vantage, if they’ve positioned anyone to hold the harbor.”
Banichi herded them back, back to the door. Against the glow from Saduri Township, even human eyes could see the fishing boats running behind them, six, seven, maybe more behind.
The light inside the salon was out. They were dark as all the other boats now. Bren felt his way the short distance to the salon, with Jase and Banichi and Jago behind him.
“Best everyone get down, nandiin,” Banichi said. “We’re coming up on the breakwater.”
“A very good idea,” Cenedi said. “ ’Sidi-ji?”
“Damned nuisance,” Ilisidi said. “ Youstay inside, ’Nedi-ji. There’s nothing to be gained out there. Down!”
The dowager sat down on the floor. That settled the matter. They all sat down, low, beneath the woodwork, while the engines thumped placidly away.
And all of a sudden surged, as the fishing yacht proved what it had in reserve. They had to be passing the breakwater light, the one vantage for ambush.
Jase was tucked down. Bren held his breath as the deck tilted sharply to port under the power of the engines; and all of a sudden the boat shook and rocked and something exploded against the hull and the superstructure at once.
“Damn!” Geigi cried, as the diesels roared and the deck pitched hard on the beam on the other tack. Starboard, this time, canted way over. The boat’s course was an arc. And they were surely beyond the breakwater. “We’ve not lost an engine,” Geigi said, which was the first thing to think in a veering motion. By the sound, that was correct, but the pilot up on the bridge must have jammed the wheel all the way over to starboard and if they were past the breakwater they had to be turning back to—
The boat’s keel hit something, the engines kept driving, one roaring dry as the starboard side hull hit and bounced along rock. Cushions and bodies and glassware and the remnants of the stern window all traveled toward the bulkhead as Jase and Bren slid down the hall toward the door that swung wildly on its hinges.
“Get out!” Banichi shouted as motion slowed. “We’re full of fuel!”
“Do it!” Bren cried, shoving at Jase. They were closest to the door, and the door had come open, the whole boat listing over hard as it swayed and bobbed and scraped along the shore, pushed by the sea and its last working engine. “Get out!”
Jase moved, half-fell through the open door and slid against the rail, Bren right with him and someone else close behind him. Gunfire hammered at the hull as they went over the rail and dropped into waist-deep water.
Someone and a second someone landed beside them with two distinct splashes. “Keep down,” Banichi’s voice said. “Keep below the tide line! Stay nearthe water unless the tank blows!”
He took the advice, his hand in the middle of Jase’s back as they moved aside to give others room to exit the still-moving boat, which was grinding and scraping its way along rocks, its engines both dead now, the waves pushing at it. They were on the breakwater. Others of their group splashed down and they made their way further toward the bow. Fire was still coming at them.
“Where’s Lasari?” Geigi’s voice cried. “Lasari! Casurni, he’s not answering.”
“Get clear, nandi!” someone said. “I’ll get him out!”
Gunfire boomed out, a large gun, from somewhere astern and in the dark.
It hit the cliffs.
“I’ve got him,” someone said. “Geigi-ji, I have him, I’m coming down!”
A hand found Bren’s arm. “Move, nadiin! That rock!”
He couldn’t see what she wanted. But he moved ahead, keeping low, and Jase was with them. Someone, two or three, splashed past the three of them, and flattened down on the rocks and got up and ran again, as gunfire aimed at the boat thumped and echoed off the cliffs.
‘They’re trying to blow the boat up,“ Jago said.
“Where is the dowager?” he asked. “Where’s Banichi?”
“Just go, paidhiin-ji!”
He could see cover ahead now, Jago’s rock, a huge boulder embedded in sand; and sand kicked up where bullets hit it.
He dived behind the rock and Jase went down with him, Jago atop them, for a second. Then Jago was seeking targets in the rocks at the foot of the cliffs, the height above them that of Mogari-nai. He remembered—for the first time remembered—he had a gun. It was jabbing him in the ribs; and he dragged it out and slipped the safety off.
“Can you see anything?” he asked.
“We are—”
Jago shoved herself around the rock, slammed them into the rock and the sand, and a shot went off to their right flank, and a second, answering shot banged out right beside him from Jago’s gun, so close to his face he was in danger of powder burns.
He couldn’t see. “Stay down!” Jago said, and used her pocket com, telling Banichi something in vocal code.
An answer came back. He couldn’t hear. His ears were still ringing from the gunshot. Jase was breathing hard, Jago’s elbow and a lump of rock were both in painful places, but he didn’t move, nor did Jase.
Another paired set of shots resounded near at hand as Jago’s body jumped, and a succession of shots went off, two of them hers. He saw a gun flash: he fired back; and heard a scatter of gunfire elsewhere.
Then in a thump of sound and glare that cast the rock breakwater and the sand in stark light and shadow—the boat’s fuel tanks blew. He saw a figure, the man he must have shot, lying flat on the beach near them.
Then other atevi figures started running across the rocks from the boat and toward the action.
“That’s Cenedi,” Jago said, with no breath. And he hoped to God she meant the running ones.
“Are you hit?” he asked Jago. “Jago-ji, are you all right?” He shook at her, and then for whatever reason she caught a breath. “Are you hit?”
“Bruised—bruised, nadi.” Gunfire was still thumping and popping from further away, as in the continuing, fainter light of the burning boat, he probed past her fingers where the leather of her coat was shredded. His hands met the bulletproof lining beneath that, and that fabric had a stiffened dent where kinetic reflex fibers had absorbed the force and taken that shape permanently.
One of the new plastics. For the space program.
“Stay in shadow,” she said, and held her side and braced herself to reload. “One is grateful, nadi,” she said between her teeth. “But if Banichi finds us sitting here, I will hear about it often. We need better cover.”
The water was lit like a carnival. Gunfire was coming at them from along the bottom of the cliffs, where the sandy beach offered dunes and cover. And there, at the limit of the light from Geigi’s boat, another sail-driven yacht lay in a wreckage the mirror-image of their own, heeled over on the sand. Inflatable runabouts were beached near it, three of them.
“God.” He nudged Jago. Jagohadn’t seen the wreck, either, until then. She made a call on the pocket com, and this time, crouched very close to Jago and in a lull in the gunfire, he heard Banichi’s voice:
“ I see it,” Banichi said. “ I see no sign of movement.”
A concentrated fire swept the beach and knocked chips off the boulder.
“ One would suggest you stay down,” Banichi said.
“One would suggest you do the same,” Jago retorted, and did not seem happy—evidently not believing Banichi would take his own advice. She turned on one knee, crouching low, and took a fast look.