Battlefield Earth Part 90

As an experienced if not always a lucky gambler, Half-Captain RoG.o.deter Snowl of the Tolnep Elite s.p.a.ce Navy considered that he knew a sure thing when he saw it, no matter how bad his eyes were lately.

A week ago he had discovered a radio band down there on the planet that the others of the combined forced did not seem to be aware of- and he was not going to tell them. It was apparently termed "The Federation Channel" and it gave news and orders and carried reports of some creatures called "Coordinators." It dealt with trines. As an officer of a navy that depended mainly on slavery for its prize money, he felt anything to do with people down there was of vast interest. This was a trade Tolneps were good at, well equipped to handle, and happy to engage in.

He had told the other s.h.i.+ps that there really should be a guard on the opposite side of the planet and had separated from them, taking a position in orbit out of their direct view.

Two days ago he had been amazed at the security those potential slaves down there omitted. They chattered away in a language called "English"-which he had vocoder circuits for from ages back- and they were making advance arrangements for the visit of a notable.

It had been too late to do anything about a visit this notable made to a flat plain in the north, but not too late to observe it. He had been amazed to see that it was the man on the one-credit note. And even easier to identify by a gold helmet.

The Federation network was chattering away about his next intended visit. It was an ancient city in the mountains they called "Lhasa." The Coordinators were to gather up some tribes at that point for a reception and do this and do that. From there on it was easy. Careful search of those huge mountains down there showed movement of people converging on just one city. The site was protected all around by mountains and was itself at a high alt.i.tude. Lhasa!

Half-Captain Snowl made his plans quickly but well. Without informing the others, take that notable captive, interrogate him as only Tolneps-or maybe Psychlos- could interrogate, get the priceless information, use what was left of the notable to negotiate a planetary surrender, and to blazes with sharing anything with the rest. Pick up the population, pay his gambling debts, and retire! He had the time, the place and the opportunity. Act!

On his diamond-shaped bridge, Snowl went over the Vulcor vessel's watch officer list and found an officer to whom he had lost 2,021 credits- which Snowl still owed. It was Double-Ensign Slitheter Pliss. If this failed, that was one gambling debt the half-captain would not have to pay. But it could not possibly fail. Too standard an action.

He called Double-Ensign Pliss to the bridge, told him exactly what was wanted, ordered two marines broken out of deep sleep, authorized the use of a small strike launch, and got the kidnap underway.

It was a clear, beautiful day and Jonnie turned the controls over to the German copilot. Jonnie was entranced with those mountains far below. He had never seen the Himalayas before. Impressive! Some of them were five miles high and a few nearly six. Snow and glaciers and wind plumes, deep valleys and frozen rivers, they were very emphatic mountains. And such a vast extent of them!

They were flying on a general southeasterly course and very high. They were only a bit above sonic since they were beforehand in their planned arrival time. It was relaxing not to listen to the heavy roar of their motors. The helmet ear pads were quite soundproof, much more than the usual domed helmets. Strange to be flying without sound.

Maybe the colonel was right- maybe it did hurt the ears.

The copilot had spotted a key towering peak to their right. They were right on course. Jonnie relaxed-it had been quite a visit. After a while he got interested in the a.s.sault rifle they had given him: they had put it on the floor plates under his feet. A chrome-plated rifle! He wondered whether they had also chromed the inside of the bore- if they had it would be dangerous to fire. He worked out how to field-strip the weapon and looked down the bore. No, they hadn't chrome it, so it was fine. He put the weapon back together and practiced with the c.o.c.king bolt. Then he put a magazine in it and working the c.o.c.king bolt, ran a whole clip through it without firing. It all worked just fine. He reloaded the clip and checked the other clips. They worked too. He tested the balance of it by sighting on a peak. The sights took a little getting used to and he practiced with them.

He didn't hear the copilot trying to tell him they would shortly land and was taken by surprise when he looked down and saw Lhasa. They were coming right on in.

What an impressive city it must have been once. A huge palace ruin went up the side of a red mountain. The palace was so big it was more than the mountain. There was a wide-open expanse just below the palace and a lot of other ruins stood around what must have been a park. The whole city was in a sort of bowl surrounded by high mountains.

Yes, and there was a little mob of people waiting at the far side of the park, most of them in furs, some in yellow tribes. There was lots of s.p.a.ce to land and Jonnie let the copilot bring the s.h.i.+p in over the top of a tumble of rubble that had once been a building and set her down. The huge ancient palace reared up on their right, the crowd was a hundred yards in front of the plane, and an ancient ruin was two hundred yards behind it.

Jonnie undid his security belts and swung the door partly open.

The crowd was simply standing over there. Perhaps two hundred people or more. They didn't rush forward. They didn't cheer. Oh, well, Jonnie thought, one can't be popular everyplace.

The sling of the AK 47 caught on the console before him and he lifted it up, swung the door wider, and dropped to the ground. Usually the copilot would s.h.i.+ft to the pilot's seat and Jonnie glanced up. The German was just sitting there, staring straight ahead.

Jonnie looked at the crowd again. n.o.body came forward. n.o.body moved. Eerie! There they were across the park, about a hundred yards away. He could make out three Coordinators. They were also just standing there as though rooted.

They looked like people with a gun trained on them. An outdoorsman's instinct caused him to whirl and look back of the plane, back toward the tumbled ruin two hundred yards behind his s.h.i.+p.

Three running figures were racing toward him, blast rifles held low.

They were gray. There were about the size of men. They wore big faceplates.

Tolneps!

They were closing the distance fast. Only seventy-five yards away.

Jonnie started to grab for his belt gun and realized he was holding the AK 47.

He crouched, c.o.c.ked the weapon, and sent a spray of fire at the figures.

They checked as though surprised. Then they began rus.h.i.+ng at him in a crouching run.

The AK 47 slugs had not halted them.

Tolneps! What did he know about Tolneps? He had read the Psychlo manual only a few days ago. Eyes! They were half-blind and without faceplates couldn't see.

He fumbled with the single-shot lever.

They were strung out, the nearest was now only fifty yards, the furthest about sixty.

Jonnie dropped to one knee. He sighted. He squeezed off at the farthest one's faceplate. He s.h.i.+fted to the second. He sighted on the faceplate. He fired.

It had taken too long.

The leading one was almost upon him.

Fangs!

Faceplate!

No time to fire.

Jonnie leaped up and slammed the b.u.t.t of the AK 47 into the Tolnep's face.

He completed the movement with a slash of the barrel.

The Tolnep didn't go down but he swerved.

Poison fangs. Mustn't get too close.

Jonnie leaped backward, s.h.i.+fting the rifle to his left hand, and drew his belt blast gun.

He fired and fired at point-blank range. The force shots pounded the Tolnep to the ground.

Jonnie walked nearer, still firing. The blast pistol was literally pounding the Tolnep into the ground. Geysers of dust blurred the view.

He hadn't had the handgun on "Flame." But the sheer force of it had knocked the Tolnep out. The faceplate was shattered; the strange eyes were glazed and rolled up into the head. Obviously knocked out.

The others! Where were they? One was running off toward the high ruined palace, obviously unable to orient himself. The other one was making his way back to something in the tumbled wreck of a building. Jonnie could see the bright nose of a small craft jutting from its hiding place in a rubble cavity.

That one was trying to get back to a s.h.i.+p!

Jonnie leaped up to the c.o.c.kpit and pulled a blast rifle out of its rack, throwing the AK 47 inside.

Back on the ground he knelt, steadied himself, and fired a single well-aimed shot at the Tolnep trying to get to his s.h.i.+p. No effect!

Jonnie threw the switches to "Flame" and "Maximum." The Tolnep was inside the ruin, almost to his s.h.i.+p.

Jonnie sighted and squeezed the trigger.

The Tolnep erupted in a pillar of fire!

Swinging to the other one, Jonnie sighted in and squeezed off. A flash as the bolt struck and then a blast of fire as the Tolnep's own rifle exploded.

Jonnie peered at the s.h.i.+p. n.o.body else in it apparently. He looked down at the Tolnep at his feet. From insignia he must be an officer.

Getting a safety line from the s.h.i.+p, Jonnie wound the Tolnep up in a tight series of loops and windings and tied the end behind his back. He had not carried a rifle, only a handgun. The shots Jonnie had fired had messed it up but he threw it far away. Then he dragged the Tolnep clear of the s.h.i.+p. Good lord, he was heavy! Jonnie tapped the Tolnep's "flesh." Like iron.

He looked human but he was so dense no wonder the AK 47 had no effect. The slugs had just glanced off.

He felt the situation was in hand. It had happened too fast for the three escort planes to do anything and they were up there, circling now. He supposed they had been too far behind him to have seen the Tolneps begin their charge.

Jonnie looked around further. Then he was amazed. That crowd was still standing there, a hundred yards in front of the plane, unmoving. n.o.body had come forward. He looked up at his own s.h.i.+p. The German copilot was just sitting there staring straight ahead.

Jonnie reached in and grabbed the local radio. "Don't come down here!" he told the other pilots.

That s.h.i.+p over there. Was it about to fire or blow up or something?

Jonnie hefted the blast rifle and, running in a wide detour, approached the s.h.i.+p.

They had certainly hidden it well. They had used a deep recess in the rubble and pushed the s.h.i.+p in until it was invisible from the air, maybe flown it in backward.

He approached it gingerly. It had blast cannon mounted on its nose. It was a bright silver color. It was shaped like a diamond. It had a canopy, now thrown back, that dropped over it to make an air seal. It had places for three and a sort of cargo s.p.a.ce in the rear of it.

Jonnie keeping his distance, rocked it with the barrel of the blast rifle. It didn't blow up. It rocked very easily, surprisingly light to carry such heavy beings.

He put his hand on its side to climb into it. The s.h.i.+p was vibrating. Something on it was running.

He peered at the panel. Several lights were blinking. The controls were totally strange. He had no idea what alphabet those letters were part of. He didn't know what kind of power it had beyond the generality in the Psychlo manual that they were usually "solar powered."

Better not touch those controls. It might take off.

He glanced out at the crowd about three hundred yards away.

They were just standing there, fixed in place.

For a moment he felt sort of fixed in place, too. But maybe that was just battle reaction.

Something in this s.h.i.+p was running! With his hand he traced the vibration. What he thought was a cannon was more than a cannon. It had two barrels, one over the other. The upper barrel had a flare at the "muzzle."

The lethargy he felt was increasing.

Well, anything that ran had to have power one way or the other. Where was a power cable? He found a big thick one under the panel. It led down to an exposed acc.u.mulator.

There was a coil of line in the back of the craft and Jonnie tied it to the cable just above the acc.u.mulator connection. He got back, braced himself, and pulled hard.

The cable snapped off the acc.u.mulator.

There was a ferocious flash of sparks.

At once, three things happened. The craft stopped vibrating. The lethargy Jonnie had felt vanished. And the whole crowd out there collapsed. They fell to the ground and lay there.

Jonnie tied the cable away from the acc.u.mulator so it couldn't short again and then ran out toward the crowd.

As he pa.s.sed his plane, the German copilot was fumbling his way out of the door. He called something but Jonnie couldn't hear him.

Reaching the crowd, Jonnie found a Coordinator struggling to his knees. Others were stirring, sitting up groggily. The place was a litter of fallen banners, musical instruments, and odds and ends of what must have been a planned celebration.

The Coordinator's mouth was moving and Jonnie thought the Scot must have lost his voice. He couldn't hear anything the Coordinator was saying. Jonnie turned and saw an escort plane had landed. He hadn't heard that.

Suddenly he realized it was this confounded helmet of Ivan's. Jonnie unfastened the chin strap and got the huge, thick ear pads off his ears.

"... and how did you get here?" the Coordinator was saying.

"I flew in!" said Jonnie, a bit sharply.

"That's my s.h.i.+p right over there!"

"There's a creature on the ground!" said the Coordinator. He was pointing at the tied Tolnep. "How did he get there?"

For a moment, Jonnie was a trifle exasperated. All this shooting and running... it dawned on him: none of these people had observed a thing that had gone on.

The people were confused and embarra.s.sed. The three tribal chiefs there were coming up, bowing, upset. They had "lost face." They had planned a very fine reception- see the banners, the musical instruments, the presents there- and he had already landed. So please excuse them....

The Coordinator was trying to answer Jonnie's questions. No, they hadn't seen anything strange. They had all come out here shortly after sunup to wait and then here he was and their schedule was all out of kilter now and it must be nine of the morning ... what? Two of the afternoon? No, that can't be. Let's see your watch!

They wanted to start the reception up now even though they didn't feel that well. Jonnie told the Coordinator in charge to hold it off a bit and got to the radio.

On local command, he told the two planes still holding to be very alert to any s.h.i.+p in orbit. Then he switched to planetary pilot band, knowing well it could be heard by the visitors. He got Sir Robert in Africa.

"The little birds tried to sing here," said Jonnie. They didn't have a code. They surely needed one. But he was making do. "All okay now. But our friend Ivan in his new hole must have a ceiling. Got it?"

Robert the Fox got it. He knew Jonnie meant him to get air cover to the Russian base and he would right away.

"Have our own band play Swenson's Lament," said Jonnie. There was no such Scot piper lament. Planetary radio silence, if you please. If the visitors had known he would be here, they were monitoring unguarded speech. "I may play a note or two but otherwise Swenson's Lament."

He turned off. The situation was more dangerous than he had thought. For all the people on this planet.

Only he had been "deaf." Only he had been able to act. Therefore that bell-mouthed barrel had been emitting a sound wave of high intensity that produced a total paralysis. So that's how the Tolneps did their slave trade.