Slipping out of
the tower would be tricky, he thought. He would have to concentrate on the
location of the anti-personnel mines and the lancer at the same time he pulled
the door open enough to slip through. The ancient wood creaked and
the lancer fired a tracer from his rifle into the darkened space between the
portal and the door; its flash burning against the stone wall, informing him of
the man’s location. Dropping to the cold stone of the tower floor, he released
a burst of fire directly at the red point of the rifle’s barrel and heard first
the flat thumps of his rounds pounding into the head, chest and right arm of the
lancer and then the skittering, clacking of the reaper’s talons on the stones
of the gorge tower steps as it grabbed the falling body and dragged it to its hole somewhere in the upper bailey. So, momentarily
safe from the reaper, he slipped through the door, pulling it shut as he moved
gingerly through the buried mines.
In the clear, he rushed
to the stairs in the upper bailey that led to the wide allure on the dividing
wall and worked his way to a point on the south end that granted him the
greatest firing arc. There, he removed the intelligent poncho, freed the sniper
rifle from his shoulder and attached a silencer. He then reloaded the machine
pistol and placed it at his feet before counting his remaining ammunition. Only ninety rounds remained with maybe a hundred for the rifle.
He pulled the
poncho back on and became virtually invisible. Now he would wait.
He didn’t see the
first man over the west wall but he felt him slip over the wall south of the
gorge tower, obviously using the tower as cover. He had a direct line of fire,
if he could see him, which he couldn’t. Any shot he took would be a guess.
His com-cell
vibrated and he fingered the red rune and heard Bleak’s voice loud and clear. “Rover,
we are one kilometer south of the chapel. It looks like we might be able to
scale either the western or eastern wall.”
“The enemy is
climbing the west wall now. You must try the east wall. It will take some ropes
to get over it, though.”
“Do the lancers
have ropes?” asked Bleak.
“They are using
ropes and grappling hooks.”
“Any estimate on
numbers?” asked the corporeal.
“A hand full at
most.”
“And they are
scaling the west wall?”
“That’s correct,
corporeal.” Raben paused and then said, “By the way, I saw another column
approaching from the east.”
Bleak was silent
but still connected. Finally, he said, “We are coming in. Don’t shoot.”
“Which way?” Raben asked. “Which wall are you scaling?”
“We will be coming
over the west wall, out.”
Raben lay the
sniper rifle down and picked up the pistol. Opening his mind, he found the
lancer crouched in the shadows on the south side of the gorge tower and aimed
the pistol at the shadows and pulled the trigger. He scattered ten rounds in a
loose pattern into the shadows and heard the man gasp and fall. His aura paled
and disappeared.
A burst of rifle fire
from the top of the east wall struck him in the left shoulder and knocked him
back. He felt a searing pain but his armor had deflected and slowed the shot,
minimizing the damage to his shoulder. He gritted his teeth and quickly bled
the rest of the clip in the general direction of the shooter. He heard a groan
from the lower bailey, as he replaced the spent clip and waited for the next
man over the wall.
Minutes later a
red and yellow flare illuminated the western wall of the Attis Chapel followed
by a burst of shotgun and pistol fire. With the garish light of the flare,
Raben quickly pinpointed two more targets within the shadows of the lower
bailey but they maneuvered away from the flickering light deeper into the
shadows before he could fire. For some reason he was unable to feel their aura.
As the flare
touched the floor of the lower bailey and extinguished in a sputter of sizzle
and flash, he sensed but could not see the first member of II Squad scale the
wall and drop into the lower bailey. After a minute or two, he recognized
Cioran’s silhouette and called out for him to join him on the dividing wall.
Suddenly, he remembered the lurking reaper in the shadows of the main bailey
and he shouted: “Cioran, a reaper is on the ground. Beware.” Cioran paused for
a moment and then lifted his pistol in acknowledgement and continued toward the
arched entrance of the main bailey.
A second flare
sizzled up into the air and three more men wiggled over the wall
simultaneously. Del Torres rushed to the gorge tower as soon as he hit the
ground and set up his automatic rifle on the ledge of an embrasure to rake the
steep hill with its thunderous fire, while Bleak and Doc moved toward the
spiral tower. Raben warned them to stop. “Don’t go that way: mines.” The two
turned and ran toward the arched entrance to the main bailey and Raben.
When they squatted
next to him, Raben asked Cioran, “Is that all?”
Cioran nodded and
then took up a position on the narrow allure a few meters toward the north.
When Bleak and Doc
reached them, they squatted and shook hands. The men were filthy and unshaven,
just as he was. Doc noticed blood on Raben’s armor and he moved closer to
examine the wound but Raben pushed him away and said, “It’s all right, Doc. We
can do that later.”
The medic nodded
and Raben cleared his throat and asked, “Where is the rest of the squad?”
“Dead,” said Bleak
in a whisper. “That bastard Drussus betrayed us and we walked into an ambush.”
Axel shot off
another flare and del Torres opened up with his automatic rifle.
Later, a cool
breeze blew over the chapel walls and Raben shivered. Doc said, “Winter is
coming. We might see some frost by morning.”
Raben asked, “I
thought del Torres was in charge of communications?”
“He is or was. We
lost the com in the river. That where’s the CDF caught us.”
“So we have no way
to communicate with the Kaiser Wilhelm?”
‘That’s about
right.”
“What do you
mean?”
“We might be able
to contact a plane or Imperial Marine unit if we somehow come anywhere near
them.”
“What do you think
the chances of that happening would be?”
Bleak shrugged his
shoulders.
The flare fizzled
out and darkness shrouded the citadel.
“You’ve been here
awhile. What do we suggest we do?” asked Bleak.
Raben rubbed the
stubble on his chin and said, “Axel and del Torres are in a good position. I
suspect the Lancers will eventually try to scale the eastern wall so we ought to
put at least one man in the northeast tower. One man should stay here because
this point provides a covering arc over both the lower and main bailey.
“One problem we
have is that there is a reaper loose in the main bailey and we need to get rid
of him. So far he has been more help to me than a hindrance but now his
presence is restricting our movement.”
“What do you
suggest we do, kill it?” asked Bleak.
“I would rather
not,” replied Raben. “I have become quite fond of it and it basically saved my
life a couple of times.” He paused and then said, “I will go down and urge him
to fly away as soon as it is light.”
“One thing we must
do is get some sleep,” Doc said, yawning.
“Maybe you would
like to go first?” asked Bleak with a laugh.
“I slept a little
this afternoon,” said Raben. “I would suggest three of you go and sleep for
three hours and then relieve us.”
“Why three?”
“Two men can cover
both walls. If they come in, you will hear the firing and relieve us, if
necessary.”
“Where do you
suggest we sleep?”
“The safest place
is the northwest tower. I have planted mines around the entrance. They will not
be able to sneak up on you and cut your throat.”
Bleak thought a
moment and said, “Doc, you, del
Torres and Axel go to the tower and sleep. Raben and I will man the walls.”
Raben led Doc to
the tower and showed him the placement of the mines and then returned to the
dividing wall and joined Bleak, who faced the west wall. Raben watched the
east. Later, Bleak loaded a flare gun and placed it on the stone floor of the
allure. “If you hear anything, shoot a flare at an angle over the wall.”
Raben dug half of
an iron ration from his fatigues and bite off a hunk of the stiff bar and handed
the remainder to Bleak, who stuffed it into his mouth. With his mouth full, he
asked, “Have you discovered what all the fuss is about?”
“What do you
mean?” asked Raben.
“Why did Kavka
make such a big to do about this pile of rock and why are two brigades of CDF
Lancers fighting like hell to dislodge us?”
“I haven’t found
anything but a stone in the chapel covered with writing I cannot read.”
“I would like to
see this stone when the sun comes up. I like to know why people are shooting at
me.”
“Don’t you think
it is simply because you are invading their country?”
Bleak laughed and
almost choked on the dry iron ration.
They chewed
silently for a long time and then Raben asked, “Corporal, how do you think we
are going to get out of this mess? I don’t expect the Imperial Marines to
counterattack anytime soon.”
“Frankly, I
thought we would march in here, set up a listening post, and then wait for the
attack. I mean, other than being high ground, I don’t see any military
significance to this chapel.
“Drussus gave us
away. That is obvious. Without that bastard, they probably would have never
suspected we were here.”
“I knew there was
something wrong with Drussus. Maybe I should have told the captain.”
“How did you
know?”
“I sensed it.”
“You sensed it?
They would have laughed you out of the program. You did best by keeping your
mouth shut.”
Raben heard the clank
and scratch of an iron hook digging into the rock wall, leaned toward Bleak and
whispered into his ear: “They are coming over the eastern wall.”
“I hear them.
Let’s wait till they are over.”
Raben picked up
the sergeant’s pistol and cradled it against his chest waiting for the flair
and he heard the flat slap of a Lancer boot hitting the stone floor of the main
bailey. Bleak angled the flare gun over the eastern wall and fired. The flare
illuminated at least ten lancers carrying carbines. In a blink of an eye, Raben
sprayed the eastern wall of the main bailey with half a clip and Bleak dropped
the flare gun and picked up his shotgun and pulled the trigger, spitting out
hundreds of pellets per second.
The flare sputtered out. Bleak picked up the
flare gun and reloaded it and then fired a round over the western wall. They
could not see any intruders in the lower bailey; however, pistol fire erupted
from one of the embrasures on the spiral tower.
The pistol fire
stopped as quickly as it started and Cioran gave the all clear signal.
The flares
dwindled and died and they were soon enveloped in darkness. Raben shivered with
the dropping temperature and pulled his poncho’s hood over his head.
The Lancers did
not try again that night. At dawn, wet flakes fell onto the chapel, covering
the floor of the main and lower bailey. At sun up the reaper, its stomach
distended, waddled across the snow, sniffed the air, and then slowly took off.
It flew toward the north, relieving Raben from having to deal with it.
Raben and Bleak
did not wake the others; instead they remained on watch throughout the night.
At dawn, after the reaper flew away to the north, they crossed the main bailey
and climbed the steps of the open gorge tower and observed a brigade of lancers
camped on the steppes on the eastern side. Hundreds of cook fires emitted
ribbons of smoke into the frigid fall air and Raben’s mouth watered at the
smell of coffee and bacon. They then moved to the western wall and noted white
tents spotting the steppes there as well. Surveying the camp through the scope
on his sniper rifle, he saw several tanks parked to the southwest.
“They are making
themselves at home,” said Bleak.
Raben shook his
head in agreement.
“Let’s wake the
others and then you can show me the Chapel and this mysterious stone.”
“Did you notice
the tents to the southwest? It seems a tank squad has arrived.”
“It is probably
the ones that ambushed us at the river.”
They woke Doc
first, who was wrapped in his poncho, snoring loudly, then the others. Cioran
took Raben’s sniper rifle to the top of the spiral tower, while the others ate
their iron rations and washed it down with brackish water from their canteens.
Doc said, “Water
is soon going to be an issue.”
“No, it’s not,”
murmured Raben.
“Why not?” asked
Bleak.
“There is a well
in the main bailey near the barracks.”
“Have you tried
the water yet?”
“No, but I dropped
a rock in it and there is water there.”
“I will test it
later,” said Doc. “That is good news.”
Bleak swallowed
the last of his iron ration and signaled for Raben to follow him. They
descended the spiral stairs and headed toward the chapel, as del Torres checked
the lancer bodies and rummaged through their packs and pockets. He collected
all of their weapons and stacked them against the wall of the open gorge tower.
“These may come in
handy,” he said.
“Get their
canteens, too,” ordered Bleak.
They passed
through the arched entrance of the dividing wall and hurried to the Chapel.
Raben shoved the huge wooden door open and they entered. Light illuminated the
stain glass windows and Raben led the corporal straight to the large carved
stone, who walked around and around it studying the unknown words. He reached
out twice to touch the stone and then drew back his hand, as if he suspected it
would be better for him if he didn’t.
Raben studied the
large stain glass scene above them and felt some sympathy for the Cyclopian
creature being attacked and surrounded by imperial marines.
“You think the
stone is what all the fuss is about?” asked Raben.
“Probably the
stone and the chapel itself,” answered Bleak. “It is probably some religious
relic, sacred to the Black Robes.”
“The lancers seem
afraid of damaging the chapel. That is probably why the tanks haven’t opened up
on us,” said Raben.
Bleak turned to him
and nodded.
“Is this all there
is? Have you found any doors leading underground?”
“No. But I haven’t
really looked for any.”
“This hill looks
manmade. I bet there is an elaborate underground structure and this Chapel is
just the façade.”
“I had a feeling,”
said Raben slowly, “that this hill was really a pyramid or a ziggurat.”
“Ziggurat, more
likely. It fits the culture of the indigenous tribes of this planet.”
“Are they still
around?” asked Raben, running his hand over the stone.
“A year ago, when
we were planning the invasion, we received some extensive lectures on the
people, the climate, the life forms, and the history of the conflict.”
“What did they
tell you?”
“What do you
mean?”
“What did they
tell you about the indigenous people?”
“The ones on this
continent were nomadic tribesmen led by Hetmen. They were polygamous and
dynastic. The first thing the Imperium did was to stop their movement, imprison
their Hetmen, and stifle their pagan religions, which was basically nature
magic administered by a shaman.”
“So these
tribesmen built ziggurats? That doesn’t really jibe with shamanism.”
“No, the tribesmen
couldn’t even build a house. They lived in tents. A pre-existing civilization
built the ziggurats. The indigenous people call them the old ones and we know
very little about them.”
“So who built the
Attis Chapel?”
“My guess would be
the first Imperial colonists.”
“When would that
have been?”
“The Seneschal
said the first colonial ship landed here ten thousand years ago.”
“This chapel is
not that old?”
“I couldn’t say
when it was built or who built it but I am guessing it happened during the
falling away?”
“The falling
away?” asked Raben.
“Don’t you know
anything, kid?” said Bleak with a laugh.
Raben did not
respond to Bleak’s rhetorical question as he blushed out of anger and
embarrassment.
Bleak cleared his
throat and explained: “The falling away occurred after the great period of
colonization and exploration. The Imperium ran out of steam and money and
failed to support many of the new colonies. The colonies realized quickly that
they were on their own. Many descended into barbarity. Some developed coping
mechanisms and began to support themselves. Because Camarones is so large, one
and half times the size of Terra, the colonists split up in different groups
and developed first city states and then countries.
“The Imperium
returned to Camarones a hundred years ago and took back control. The colonists,
however, had become accustomed to self-rule and some of the leaders didn’t want
to relinquish their power to the Kaiser.
“The
Administrators faced several problems. There were different countries,
different factions, and different religions. Part of the planet readily
embraced the Kaiser, while other regions resented him. The dictator of this
eastern continent was nothing more than a glorified Hetman or satrap. He
refused to surrender control to the Kaiser and he had to be subdued by force.
“It took several
years to quiet his insurrection but the Kaiser eventually crushed all
resistance.”
“And the CDF, who
are they?”
“When the Kaiser
reclaimed the planet, his administrators built an indigenous army to control
and police the world, when the Imperial Marine moved on.
“Once the Imperial
Marine left the planet, Stavitsky, a General in the CDF, declared himself
Hetman and began to take over Camarones.”
The bark and
rattle of the automatic rifle interrupted their conversation and they ran
quickly from the chapel to the sound of fire.
Del Torres stood
at an embrasure at the open gorge on the western fall spraying rounds in a wide
arc. Bleak and Raben climbed the steps three at a time and took positions on
each side of him, while Cioran, ensconced in the spiral tower, began firing at
lancers pushing a large wagon, loaded with planking toward the moat in front of
the gate.
Cioran yelled into
his com-cell: “They have some sort of makeshift bridge. They obviously plan a
frontal attack.”
About two hundred
lancers struggled up the steep incline on the eastern side of the chapel wall,
an obvious diversion to the action in the north, while four tanks started up
the winding black road, their engines coughing black smoke into the air.
Pistol fire
erupted on the east wall and Doc called out that the enemy was climbing the
eastern wall in force.
Bleak ordered
Raben to support Doc.
As Raben ran
through the arched entrance between the lower and main bailey, he noted dragons
circling in the northwest.
Doc was on the
open gorge tower firing his pistol as quickly as he could pull the trigger and
replace the magazine. Lancers fell like stalks of wheat on the steep hill. When
Raben reached him, Doc ordered through gritted teeth: “Grab some grenades from
my knapsack.”
Raben dropped his pistol
and pulled out four grenades. He pulled the pin on one and lobbed it down the
hill into a clump of lancers who had taken cover from Doc’s weltering pistol
fire. The grenade exploded, spraying the men with shrapnel, tearing and
shredding their bodies.
He searched for
another group and once he found them, he pulled the pin on a grenade and threw
it up into the air on a high arc. The grenade exploded a few meters above the
lancers.
Even under Doc’s
withering fire and Raben’s grenades, the lancers progressed slowly up the hill,
stopping and firing their rifles at the embrasures. One burst creased Doc’s
right cheek and knocked him onto the gray stones of the open gorge.
Raben grabbed his pistol
and began spraying the hill. Suddenly a tank fired and a wedge of the spiral
tower collapsed into the moat.
Doc roused himself
from the floor and grabbed his knapsack. “I have to check on Cioran; he was in
the tower.”
Raben touched
Doc’s arm to stop him and said: “I’m out of ammo.”
Doc opened his bag
and handed Raben two magazines, sixty rounds. “That’s it.”
As Doc disappeared
through the opening in the dividing wall, Raben received a psychic jolt so
strong he stumbled off the shooting step. A frenzied wail followed the jolt and
several iron drains on the main bailey flew open and gray steam sprayed into
the air. He covered his ears with his hands in a feeble attempt to squelch the
piercing shriek. The charging lancers and the defending marines also dropped
their weapons and covered their ears. Many
of the lancers began to back down the side of the hill, while others collapsed
in a heap on the dead yellow grass.
