And that bead Dagger had just fired came from right there. Ferret zoomed in as best he could, saw a flicker that might be a camouflaged Dagger, and fired.
He missed, apparently, because another bead came in right afterwards. It tore at the grass and was so close he could feel the slap of the shockwave. From a projectile that tiny, that was impressive. He’d take one more shot and move, he decided, and shifted his weapon just slightly.
Dagger watched the shots come in. Ferret was right there, and if they kept swapping fire, he’d hit sooner or later. Of course, Ferret might, too. He was in the grass there, though he didn’t show on infrared even in this late light. It might be wise to shift for cover.
But that insult had really stuck in his ass. Who the fuck was Ferret to criticize his shooting? Who the fuck was Tirdal? They’d been shooting as much as he had. Did they think they were special? Were they proud of the fact they couldn’t do it?
No, Ferret was going to pay for that comment. And it was right then that Dagger saw it.
The grass shifted just slightly, and there was Ferret, hard to see but clearly outlined. He wasn’t chameleoned. Either he’d had tech problems, or he’d just plain forgotten. And now was when it all paid off.
“Why, Ferret,” he said, “you seem to have forgotten your chameleon.” As he said the last word, he stroked the trigger.
For just a moment, the universe linked two minds.
It was that link between hunter and prey. The prey knew he had made a critical and final mistake, and looked up. The expression on Ferret’s face wasn’t of fear, though there was a hint of that beneath. There was also disgust at failure, after so tough a struggle. Mostly it was sadness and regret that the artifact was to leave the planet with one of the others.
The hunter knew he had the shot. Dagger smiled a cruel smile, an almost sexual thrill running through him. The tougher the target, the bigger the thrill, and Ferret had been a royal pain in the ass. He had all the time in the world, or less than a second. His finger brushed the trigger and the gauss rifle cracked its projectile.
At this range, flight time was negligible. Through the scope, a wake through the air was visible, ripples expanding from a shape that was a conical arc. What was that shape called? Dagger wondered idly. He’d have to look it up sometime.
Then the round ripped through Ferret’s face, the husk peeling away to expose a few micrograms of antimatter. It had been a needless touch; any of the rounds would have killed. But Dagger was glad it would be excessive. There was a low, dull explosion that he wouldn’t hear for a second or more, the reaction muffled for just a moment by flesh and bone that then expanded ahead of the shock wave, too fast for human eyes to see. Ferret just disappeared, everything above his abdomen vaporized by a combination of shock wave and steam explosion. His punch gun dropped, taking his disembodied hands with it, and his lower half gushed red, pink and gray innards into a fetid heap in front.
“Now that’s sweet,” Dagger said in a whisper, smile frozen on his face. One asshole down, one to go. “Hey, Tirdal,” he transmitted, “Ferret’s dead in front of me. You’re next.”
Tirdal replied of course. He always had a glib answer. “So I deduced. How unfortunate for Ferret. It does, however, simplify matters for me to have the weaker mind be the only pursuit. We shall see each other shortly, Dagger. Or at least one of us will see the other.”
“Better hope it’s you, Tirdal. Though you can’t do much except duck. You won’t be within range of me with that shooter.”
“ ‘Hope’ is not a Darhel concept,” Tirdal replied. “We shall simply see. ‘Good luck,’ in human parlance.”
“Yeah, screw you too, Darhel. It’s six down and one to go,” Dagger said.
Tirdal was just an annoyance, now. Dagger felt one hell of a lot better with a solid kill for his tally.
Still, it was getting dark in a hurry. Under his elation was a leaden wave of tiredness that kept dragging him down. It would be best to move a short distance away, and find a place to… hide… for the night. The word wasn’t pleasant, but he would be hiding from Tirdal and local animals, not from the dark. He’d make it close by, so he could watch Tirdal’s current location, and this chewed spot of the bluff, in case the Elf came up to look. Though he was betting Darhel boy was too timid and inexperienced for that.
In the meantime, food, water. His processor could produce lettuce-looking stuff that had a lot of moisture. That would have to suffice, he supposed. It would taste like grass, but it would keep him alive for now. And Tirdal wouldn’t attack, because Tirdal couldn’t be sure of getting within range without getting shot. The high ground was the best place, and Dagger had it.
Now, where to camp? He could roll against another crumbled dirt face and let it collapse across himself, his head and shoulders covered with the gear cover from his ruck propped up with rocks and sticks. Yes, that would work. It might even be cool, if he dialed the suit down. The dirt would absorb energy from him and radiate it away, and it would be dispersed enough not to be obvious.
First things first, though. He needed to swallow a nano for the ankle, stuff a lot of grass into the processor to get water from it, and clean the muzzle of his rifle.
He squirmed the rest of the way out of the scree, and gingerly took to a crawl. It would keep him low and protect both his screaming ankle and throbbing knee. Ripping whole fistfuls of grass, he stuffed them into the mouth of the processor until it was packed full. It worked more efficiently when lightly loaded, but this was an emergency. He opened the seal around his boot, hiked up the pant leg and pressed the nano carrier against his ankle. It seeped in, feeling cold, then the ankle began to itch, then go numb. Hopefully, it would be useable by dawn.
He had to settle for running a cleaning rod down the bore of the rifle, rather than a full stripping. He couldn’t risk losing components. The charged brush seemed to clear everything, and he’d just have to assume the scope was still aligned and resight it if needed. It had been fine for Ferret, but that had been less than a thousand meters, and he didn’t know how closely the round had hit his point of aim. A few microradians off was an angle of departure that would compound with distance. Also, it might have been loosened and any jarring could make shooting much less precise. For now, he couldn’t change it.
It was near dark now, the light fading as fast as in Earth’s tropics, even at this latitude. He checked the processor and was rewarded with the sight of crisp, wet rectangular sheets, reminiscent of lettuce leaves. He grabbed them as fast as they came out, stuffing them into his mouth and chewing. Yes, a half hour of this might get him another day’s moisture. And he’d really need to take a dump when he awoke, he decided. Unbelievable that a stalk could take so long.
Much refreshed and healthier after eating, Dagger was at the same time exhausted beyond description. Pain tore at his leg still, along with the myriad aches and pains that were exacerbated between sleeps. He rolled back against the dirt face, pulled the cover over his head and shoulders, and kicked back with his good foot. A softly rumbling shower of dirt concealed all but his face, and with the chameleon circuits live he should be invisible.
And tomorrow, he thought, consciousness fading, he’d see about that damned Elf.
Tirdal decided he should rest a bit before continuing. With Dagger calm, he could do so, though there was no guarantee he’d have long. But that would wait until afterwards, if there was an afterwards. There were things to be done now, such as moving for solid defense against shots or predators. He wasn’t sure of the difference in feel between Dagger asleep and Dagger in a shooting trance, so he intended to be cautious and maintain good cover. A Sense to the south didn’t show any presence of Ferret, and there’d been a brief flash of fear when Dagger shot. Still, he called, “Ferret, are you there?” There was no reply. So assume Ferret was dead. That was unfortunate, really. The young human had definitely shown his mettle, stalking the two of them for days while crippled. He’d deserved better.