"A large detachment of men and 'Mechs dropped onto the grasslands to the east of the port. They were met by a group of our own people, including a Zeuswe captured from Steiner some time ago. The pilot is one of my special informants. After the engagement, he brought the remnants of his command back to headquarters to make his report
"He personally engaged the leader of the enemy 'Mech unit, whose Victorwas painted with the Sortek arms below the Federated Suns emblem. Our man disabled the 'Mech, but he believes the pilot was able to escape into the swamp, which was less than a standard kilometer from the battlefield."
Liao's face lightened. "Sortek...afoot. Possibly wounded ...a most interesting possibility presents itself. What is the status of that area now? Can we search the swamp without interference from Davion troops?"
Ridzik nodded. "The units engaged there withdrew to the local command center, after breaking our defense. They don't care about the countryside. What they want is to quash any resistance left in the city itself, as well as around the port."
"Then, have the swamp searched immediately," Liao ordered sharply. "Detail as many men as needed. Watch to see that they don't use heavy equipment, however. We've lost enough in those cursed swamps already. But see that they are thorough."
Ridzik saluted. "Yes, Your Grace. I shall be ready to go as soon as I have obtained all the computer information we will need. You have my assurance that if Sortek is alive, we will find him...Or even if he is not"
After the commander of his troops had left, Liao stood at the window, looking into his garden. This time he saw every vivid blossom, every bright, swift-winged bird. The view soothed him, helped to relieve the terrible tension of the past days.
Though his ruler was finding himself eased, Ridzik was increasingly harried. He had a world full of men and machines to embark for retreat He had supplies to retrieve, if possible, and to destroy, if not And now he also had an intricate and dangerous search to put into motion. He cursed the day he had first heard the name of Ardan Sortek.
Nevertheless, upon his arrival at Liao headquarters on Stein's Folly, he called in the leader of a unit that had served him well in many unusual and sometimes shady enterprises.
"Henrik, we have an important mission. The swamp in Sector Five...yes, that one." He smiled as the officer stepped to the map on his office wall and placed a finger on a stretch of green. "We believe that within that area of swamp may be a survivor of our recent battle."
The man nodded, his expression puzzled. Rescue missions had never been a high priority among the Liao troops.
"This man is important to our ruler. The Duke has need of him, even though he is an enemy. We must find him, dead or alive. When you do, bring him at once to the
DropShip being readied for retreat to Redfield. This is of utmost importance, Henrik. Do you understand me?"
The officer had worked with Ridzik often, and he understood all too well. Liao did not accept failure, even in the face of total impossibility. He saluted. "Yessir!"
* * * *
Ardan woke to darkness. His body burned with fever, and ached from head to toe, as though he had taken a brutal beating. Dazed and disoriented, he was not sure at first where he was or how he came to be here. It was his arm, throbbing in its preserving sleeve, that brought it all back...the swamp...ejecting from his Victor...theterror that the enemy Zeuswould finish him off the way he'd finished off Ardan's ‘Mech...
He could make out very little in the murk of night, but the trees around him had become raucous with hoots, honks, chirrups, rasps, howls, and other distressing sounds. To his fevered brain, every noise seemed threatening and vicious. When he mustered the strength to lift his head, trying to see into the pitch black of the swamp, some live thing thrashed away into the reeds, making a loud splash as it hit the water.
Ardan moved again, very cautiously. At his side, a tiny voice said "Meep? Meep?" with maddening persistence. He reached slowly for his leg-knife. Once in his hand, its metal reassuringly solid in this murky world, he felt somewhat better. His body screamed for a drink of water, but he dared not slake his thirst on this brackish slime. If only he still had his canister...
That thought brought back the memory of his last moments of combat with the Zeus.It had not stayed to finish him off, but had lumbered away toward the sounds of battle in the east But what if the Zeuswere to come back for him, after all? How could Ardan defend himself with just a knife, and nearly naked in his shorts and useless cooling vest? He would have to get away from this spot, he thought feverishly, but he dared not venture into the water in the dark.
The night wore on with painful slowness, but the sounds and the slitherings around him did not cease. Whatever those creatures might have been, to Ardan's shaky state of mind and body they were menaces beyond anything spawned in any swamp on any known world.
When a thread of light finally touched the sky beyond the thick treetops, he relaxed a bit Though he had dozed in the night, some new alien touch on his hair or body had continually jerked him awake. Now he saw that the night-crawlers had retreated to their burrows. He was alone on the mudbank. Gathering his courage, Ardan made himself slide, headfirst into the greenish-black water.
It was shallow. He could float along, head above water, propelling himself with his good hand along the slimy stickiness of the bottom mud. From time to time, his palm met something that quivered or throbbed beneath it. That shook him.
He tried to move parallel with the edge of the clear ground. This swamp had to be part of some waterway. Waterways led to rivers. Once he had found a river...then what? He didn't want to think any farther than that. He would find help, or he would not. His head was in no condition to make coherent plans.
The air warmed, but he shivered uncontrollably in the water. His skin wrinkled and grew pale, but Ardan pushed on. The world spun about him, misty with steam over the water, misty with the obscurity growing inside his mind. Eventually, he was shaking so uncontrollably that he had to drag himself onto a mudbank, out of the water. There he saw the imprint of a large body and a wide, dragging tail in the mud. He didn't care.
He lay, face-down, gasping, shivering. Then, his back arched, and he vomited dark liquid. Had he drunk some of the water as he traveled? He must have. Now his belly knotted, and Ardan curled, shaking, nauseated, into a ball. He lay there, unable to move, for what seemed like hours, before he was roused from his stupor by a grunting sound nearby.
He turned to see a fat, pale-skinned shape wallowing in the shallows below him. Its piglike head was cocked upward, watching him. The eyes were black, small, hostile. As he watched, it flapped a wide, leathery tail against the water, raising a shower of droplets.
The owner of the mudbank, Ardan thought dreamily. Then he sank into delirium again.
This time he dreamed.
He was inside his 'Mech, facing hostiles. He tried to raise the arm. There was no response. He tried to scan his surroundings, but the monitors were all dark. He wanted to run....any direction, just to have motion. The legs refused to move.
He was blind, helpless, trapped inside the behemoth, waiting for his enemy to strike him down. He screamed, and the echo went round and round inside his helmet He was sliding...down, down a chute toward the emergency hatch.
He came out onto a wide plain, stretching away on either hand as far as he could see. No sign of life met his despairing gaze. The grass beneath his feet was burnt brown. The sky was coppery yellow, the sun staring down evilly. His throat was sore; breath came with difficulty into his lungs.