«They sent six machines against Miros, and it must seem as though they have all sailed away to another world in the sky. Those six are gone. This is not something that has ever happened to them before. Are they brave enough to try again?»
«I don't think their courage has that much to do with it,» was all Blade would say. In his own mind, he was far less certain. The empty horizon perhaps did mean that the Looters were stunned by the disappearance of the six machines, stunned and paralyzed.
It could also mean that they had finally realized a deadly enemy was lurking somewhere out there, an enemy with new skills. They might be busily making plans to send a stronger force against this enemy. Perhaps they were even making plans to come forth themselves, instead of relying on their rugged but fatally inflexible machines.
Yet Blade was sure of one thing. Sooner or later, in one way or another, the Looters would return.
Chapter 18
Dawn in Miros. The coolness was not yet out of the air and the dew not yet dried from the dust in the empty streets. Blade sat with Chara on the platform of a war machine, in a corner that still lay deep in shadow. Suddenly he heard her suck in breath with a sharp hiss.
«Look-on the tower! The signal!»
Blade raised his eyes to the top of the watchtower. The thick black smoke of burning teksin oil was streaming up into the windless sky.
The Looters had come again.
Chara was already diving for the hatch of the machine. Blade leaped through behind her and took the controls. They rose swiftly, climbing up into the sunlight, up to the top of the tower.
The chief of the sentries met Blade as he sprang out of the machine. «They are half a day's march toward the horizon, Mazda. They are low, and if they move, they move so slowly that we cannot see it.»
«How many?»
«We count only six, Mazda. Three of the small war machines, and three of the big ones that are shaped like boxes.»
«Nothing else?»
«We have seen nothing else, Mazda. If it had been there, we would have seen it.»
«Very good. You've given your signal. Get your people into the machine. We'll drop you off by the horses when we pick up my attack team.»
The sentries piled into the cabin of the machine. Blade was the last in. He was keeping a rigidly calm face, but he was not entirely calm inside. Six machines-that was not nearly as strong a force as he had expected. But they were fighting machines only. There were none of the other kinds that would have been part of any force intended to simply move into Miros and start to loot and smash it. The Looters were also standing off at a distance rather than heading straight in.
It looked like a fighting force, sent by someone who expected trouble, and under command of human brains. No, not «human.» Call them «live» brains. The Looters were humanoid. But human? That remained to be seen.
Blade suspected that with luck they might see the answer to that question today. Then he put the Looters temporarily out of his mind and concentrated on getting the machine off the roof.
They plunged down to the street and leveled out so low that their passing kicked up dust. In minutes they were at the north camp, where Blade had stationed the twelve specially trained fighters.
Blade dropped the machine on its belly with a crunch of rubble underneath and opened the hatch. «Get to your horses and ride out of the city as fast as you can. If you do not hear true word from me or my people by nightfall, we will be dead. Then ride for the lands of the people as fast as you can. Ignore any message that doesn't contain the word 'Zulekia.' «
«Zulekia? The name of your Beloved?»
«Yes.»
«Why?»
«I think that there may be some living Looters with those machines out on the plain. They may use a false message from me to lay a trap for all of you. But they will not know my Beloved's name.»
It was obvious that the people did not quite understand. But he was Mazda, and they would obey him.
Now Blade signaled to his attack team. «I want six of you to climb into the machine and ride with us. The other six will ride out of the city with the rest. If I die today, you will return to the lands of the people and help teach others what I have taught you.»
All twelve pushed forward, hoping to be among the six. Blade picked out his six by pointing a finger and going, «You-you-you.» He stood on the platform until the chosen six were inside and the others had reluctantly joined the rest of the fighters. Then he took several deep breaths and felt his mind and body settle, readying for action. Some of the fighters were still standing around the machine, staring at him. Other more sensible ones were already leading out their horses and mounting up. Blade made a final sweeping farewell gesture to all of them, then climbed through the hatch and pulled it shut behind him.
Blade saw the coming battle as a trap, with himself and the machine as the prime bait. He would have been happier if the attack team had not been in the machine with him. But there was no choice. When the battle was joined, the streets of Miros would be no place for an unprotected human being, no matter how well trained.
Blade headed for the northern edge of the city, toward the Looter force. He wanted to offer them a target that would draw their fire as soon as possible. It was risky, but not half as risky as going into the battle not knowing as much as possible about his enemy.
On the northern edge of the city Blade took the machine behind a medium-tall building and lifted it up several hundred feet. Then he swung it out into the open street. He had a clear view across the plain toward the Looter machines. They showed up plainly on the screens, several miles closer now. He hoped he showed up as plainly on theirs.
A puff of smoke rose from one of the large machines, followed by a long white trail. The trail climbed into the sky as it climbed toward the city. Metal glinted at the head of the trail. Blade held his machine in position.
Chara stared wide-eyed at the screen. «Mazda-aren't you going to-?»
Blade shook his head. «Not yet. We still need to find out how well they can shoot.»
Several miles up, the rocket curved over and began a downward plunge toward its target. At the last moment, when it was obvious that he was that target, Blade swung the machine out of sight behind the building. With a roar and a howl of torn air audible even inside the machine, the rocket plunged down the last few hundred feet and exploded in the street.
The heavy war machine bounced up and sideways like a floating log hitting rapids. One corner slammed into the building, sending everybody except Blade sprawling. Then he dove toward the street without waiting for people to get settled again.
At street level he turned to the team. «Everyone all right?»
Apart from bruises, everyone was. One of the men couldn't help asking, «Are we going to be doing this again?»
«Quite a lot of it,» said Blade calmly. «We have to make them decide to move in close. Otherwise you won't get a chance to do any fighting.» Several people looked as though they really wouldn't mind that much missing their chance.
Blade kept the machine darting in and out of the towers of the city for nearly half an hour. Every few minutes he would make it do the equivalent of jumping up and down and thumbing its nose at the distant Looter machines. They would reply with a rocket. The rockets came in unguided, blowing large chunks of real estate to bits but not doing a thing to Blade's machine. Even the attack team members were beginning to look more cheerful, although a couple of them got airsick from the rough ride.