The Course of Empire by Eric Flint
PART IV:
To Burn in Salem
It was time, now, for him to swim into the center of the flow. The agent of the Bond understood that the moment he received the report. Battle was about to be openly joined.
He wondered, for a moment, how the young Pluthrak would proceed. But he did not wonder for long. This one was truly namth camiti—perhaps even, as the Bond's preceptor hoped, something greater. Namth camiti, not of Pluthrak alone, but of all Jao. Perhaps, even—the agent's own great hope—what he himself had awaited for twenty years. Namth camiti of humans as well as Jao.
That, it was still too early to determine. But the agent had no doubt at all what tactic the young Pluthrak would use, to bring down the Narvo brute. With one so young and bold and self-confident, it could only be advance-by-oscillation.
To be sure, it was the most dangerous tactic as well as the most adventurous. Oppuk himself had not dared to use it, when he brought down the Hariv. But Jita had been a cautious and canny clan leader, against whom advance-by-oscillation was ill-suited. Against the Narvo as he had become, swollen and gross with twenty years of arrogant rule, the agent thought it would work splendidly.
A whale hunt. It was a fitting way, the agent thought, for a leviathan to drive himself onto the rocks.
Chapter 23
The population center Oppuk chose for destruction was called Salem, a small city not far inland that was also the administrative center for the local district. What humans called "the capital of Oregon."
Despite Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo's desire for haste, Aille delayed as long as he could. Time flowed and he let it slip past him, using the excuse of assembling the needed troops and requisitioning materiel from the most proximate Jao base, a major population center in the same district known as Portland. Through a visual feed, he watched humans on the other side of the town from the positions his forces had taken creeping away in the still-driving rain, some carrying bundles in their arms, others, children. His troops had orders not to interfere with anyone trying to evacuate.
Aille wanted to delay the assault as long as possible, without directly defying the Governor, in order to minimize the casualties. Noncombatants were wont to run, while soldiers would stay and fight. The rebels obviously wanted confrontation, judging by their earlier actions, so he had no fear of the real enemy getting away. It was not worth Jao time and effort to pursue those who posed no threat, and ran the risk of stirring up the native population still further.
Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo felt otherwise, of course. Perhaps that was Oppuk's own personal idiosyncrasy, or perhaps that was Narvo method—but Aille had been shaped by Pluthrak, not Narvo. He had been taught that subject populations should be ruled, certainly—with a strong hand, if need be—but never pointlessly brutalized.
By nightfall, light artillery and tanks, both those of Jao origin and a smattering of human equipment refitted with Jao augments, had arrived. They were being readied by a regiment of Jao troops aided by a few human techs.
Oppuk had flown into a fury, when he'd seen the first of the Terran tanks arrive. Aille had instructed Kralik to mobilize the Pacific Division as well. The Governor tried to insist that they be sent back, but Aille had politely refused.
In doing so, he was on firm ground. The line of authority was clear, here as well, and on two counts: Pluthrak had been given the honor; and, in any event, Aille was Subcommandant of all ground forces. Which, now that the Governor's position was weakened, Aille had enforced in its full measure. There would be no more attempts by the Dano Commandant to claim that Aille only commanded the jinau troops. Kaul, clearly enough, had gotten a report on what had happened in the whale hunt, and was maneuvering accordingly. So, needlessly to say, were the officers from all the lesser kochan. For the moment, Pluthrak had the advantage.
Oppuk's wounds had proved superficial and easily treated, and he now waited inside an enormous hant he had erected inside Aille's new temporary military base. Oppuk had poured the thing immediately, even diverting military resources to do so. He intended, apparently, to personally observe the destruction of Salem.
That was another small mistake, again driven by the Governor's inability to control his temper. Yaut was pleased. Oppuk would have been wiser to accept his defeat—which was still but a small one, after all—and return to his palace in Oklahoma City to begin repairing the damage.
Banle, Caitlin's guard, had appeared at the docks, sometime after the trawler had transported the rest of them back, having apparently abandoned the fight early on to swim to safety on her own. She'd been skulking about ever since, sullen and silent.
Kralik had disappeared briefly, after they docked, but was also back now. Aille suspected he had personally transported Caitlin Stockwell to a human medical facility, a gross misuse of his time under current circumstances.
He suspected he knew the reason, though. Humans did not mate as Jao did, through marriage-groups and careful consideration by their kochan of where the best possibilities for association lay. Instead, they paired off, sometimes serially, often failing to form lasting relationships since their liaisons were motivated by sudden fancy. Most likely, Kralik had taken one of these inexplicable human fancies to the Stockwell female. Under other circumstances, such would have been interesting and Aille would have liked to study their behavior. Coming in the midst of this particular flow, however, it was an unwarranted distraction.
"Do not leave again without informing me," Aille said, studying a refitted green-and-brown-splotched human tank drifting past on its new maglevs. His posture was grim-displeasure.
"Yes, sir," Kralik still bore long clotted cuts on both forehead and cheek. Evidently he had not sought medical attention for himself, whatever else he had been up to. "It won't happen again."
The rain finally desisted into a mere spattering of isolated drops, but the air was still delightfully damp. Aille tapped the bau against his leg. "Is the Pacific Division standing by?"
"The First Brigade is, sir," Kralik said. "I won't be able to get the rest of the division here for another two days, at least. More likely three."
Yaut reappeared, preceded by Tully and Aguilera. The two human members of Aille's service seemed to be mastering the technique of leading without knowing where they were going, using subtle hints of the fraghta's position to guide them.
A Jao ground combat vehicle drifted to a stop before him. The pleniary of the Portland unit, Hinn krinnu Vatu vau Waf, a seasoned veteran of the conquest, climbed out and sat on the edge of the hatch. He was a solidly built Jao with a well-shaped vai camiti that covered eyes and muzzle as well as cheeks so that most of his face was shrouded in black. "The unit is ready to attack," he said, and allowed annoyed-boredom to creep into his lines.
Aille's snout wrinkled in irritation, but he quickly submerged it in the most neutral of postures. With that vai camiti, Hinn was bound to appear forceful, whatever else his body might indicate. Perhaps that had gotten him a bit further in his career than he deserved and he had become careless of proper movement.
"Yes," Aille said. "Proceed."
Without another word, Hinn slid back into his vehicle and closed the hatch. The vehicle rotated noiselessly and headed toward the town, quickly followed by the rest of the unit. As with most Jao ground force regiments, this one consisted of thirty fighting vehicles and enough others, more lightly armed, to carry the infantry. Some six hundred soldiers, in all.
Aille donned a headset so he could monitor communications as the regiment advanced. On the screens in his command center, he could also observe the town itself from satellite imagery. Most of the city was dark, probably an indication of how many inhabitants had already fled.
Tamt stood before Aille's shoulder, ready, but not obtrusive. Her training at Yaut's hands was continuing to go well.
Rafe Aguilera was pacing back and forth in the rear of the command center with what Aille interpreted as suppressed nerves. "That's the same type of tanks we met at the Battle of Chicago," he muttered.<
Kralik narrowed his eyes as he watched the Jao combat vehicles gliding toward the city on the screen, pale blue in the deepening darkness. "They haven't changed a bit since then, have they?" He turned to Yaut. "Does it just take a long time for upgrades to reach us because we're so far from your homeworlds?"
"Upgrades?" Yaut allowed puzzled-misunderstanding to pervade his shoulders. He had not encountered this English word before. Neither had Aille.
"Improvements," Kralik said. "New technology, the latest advancements."
"Why would we change anything?" Yaut said, his eyes trained on the advancing line. "This equipment works well and we know how to operate it. Replacement parts are already manufactured. What more is needed?"
"How long ago did you develop this line of technology?" Aguilera asked, as the lead Jao vehicle began firing at the first structure it encountered.
"It came down to us from the Ekhat," Aille said.
"So it's not really yours," Tully said. "Someone else invented all this stuff. You just maintain and use it."
The vehicle's laser fired a second time, a third, and then the structure burst apart with a muffled explosion. Shards of burning wood flew through the air. The tank glided on to the next building, an ice-blue presence in the night.
* * *
Tully could not sit still, but Aguilera was already pacing, for all the good it would do anyone in the doomed town, so he tucked his twitching hands under his arms and shuffled his feet to dissipate his nerves. How could the rebels have been so stupid—going after the Governor, himself, for God's sake? Tully had heard that the Resistance groups in the Northwest tended to be reckless, but this was worse than he'd expected.
He wanted to pound someone's face, beat sense into them, but it was far too late. He ached to slip off into the darkness and see if he could help protect the town against this one-sided attack, but that was impossible as long as he was shackled with the locator band. Yaut had evidently disarmed it on the ship, once they were under attack, but the damned thing was certainly working now. He'd had a good-sized shock out of it just fifteen minutes ago, when he'd gotten careless and wandered too far looking for a place to urinate.
He watched gloomily on the screen as, one by one, the buildings along the street being used to enter the town were blasted into burning splinters by Jao tanks. But no one flung open the doors and ran as they approached, or popped up behind an open window and got off a few well-placed shots. None of the buildings had lights on, either.
Tully edged around Yaut, peering closer. It was almost as though . . . no one was home. His heart raced with sudden hope. Had Salem perhaps been evacuated? Maybe this wasn't quite going to be the slaughter Oppuk had envisioned.
He studied Aille, for a moment. There was something about his posture . . . Tully couldn't tell exactly what it was, but suddenly he knew. The Pluthrak Subcommandant was looking pleased with himself. And Tully suddenly realized that when he'd caught a glimpse of Oppuk earlier that day, the Governor had seemed more furious than ever.
I will be good God-damned. The sly Jao bastard planned it this way.
He reviewed everything he'd seen since the whale hunt in his mind. Looking at it, this time, not from the angle of a bitter rebel but from that of a soldier who'd had enough time in the service to know how to goldbrick.
Yup, he did. Dragged everything out as long as he could. Hurry up and wait. Had Jao aircraft buzzing the town constantly, making sure everybody knew all hell was about to break loose—but carefully kept routes of evacuation open. He could have easily positioned troops around the entire town. Salem's not that really that big. Maybe . . . what? A hundred thousand people? Can't be much more than that.
Kralik had been consulting with Aille, most of that time, providing him with the expertise of a human general who knew the lay of the land. As commander of the Pacific Division, the western part of the continent was his turf.
Tully now studied Kralik. The general's face was calm, impassive, unreadable. For a moment, his gray eyes met Tully's, then looked away.
Him too!
Tully had to suppress a laugh. When Kralik had disappeared for a while, Tully had simply assumed it was because he had the hots for the Stockwell girl and insisted on personally taking her to the hospital. Cradle robber, he'd thought at the time. The general was almost old enough to be her father.
That didn't really make sense, now that Tully thought about it. True, Kralik obviously had the hots for Stockwell, even if he wasn't being uncouth about it. But he was a general, fer chrissake, in a combat situation. And, from everything Tully had seen, a particularly coolheaded one. However concerned he might have been for Caitlin Stockwell, delegation of authority came automatically to him. Kralik would have just ordered one of his junior officers to see the girl got to a hospital safely. He wouldn't have left his post to do it personally.
There was only one reason Tully could think of, for Kralik to have done that. Because he needed to get in contact with someone and couldn't afford to be discovered doing it. That meant finding a human telephone, instead of using his regular communicator.
Tully was still staring at the general. Again, Kralik's eyes met his. This time, though, something seemed to flicker in them before he looked away.
For the first and only time since Tully had joined the jinau to ferret out what intelligence he could, he actually felt like saluting an officer.
You're okay, General Ed Kralik, even if you are a damn collaborator.
Tully wondered if Kralik had passed along any specific knowledge, regarding which routes and tactics Aille would be using in the attack. Probably not. Kralik was a decent guy, sure enough, but he was still a jinau officer. He wouldn't have gone that far. And it didn't really matter anyway. Between Aille's stalling and Kralik's warning, the human authorities in Salem would have had enough time to evacuate anyone who was willing to go.
The Resistance units would stay behind, of course, since the city's authorities had no control over them. But that meant it was going to be a straight-up fight, not a slaughter.
* * *
As he continued to watch, Tully realized something else. The young Pluthrak Subcommandant was still dragging his feet—only, this time, as flamboyantly as possible. The Jao forces invading Salem were making slow progress because they were destroying everything as they went. Every building, every shack—hell, they were blasting away street signs!
Even with the lightning-quick Jao targeting mechanisms and dead-sure aim, and the sheer destructiveness of lasers designed for space battle used at point-blank range, it was taking time. More time for the civilians to get out of the way.
Tully was sure that Kralik had recommended this avenue of approach for exactly the same reason. The Jao forces were advancing into Salem from the southeast, taking one of the commercial boulevards that branched off from I-5. Tully wasn't familiar with Salem, but this boulevard was generic to almost any small city in North America: just an endless row of fast food joints, gas stations and car dealerships, most of which were long-abandoned and half in ruins, anyway. For twenty years, Oppuk's rule had oscillated between savagery and negligence. Salem was in no better shape than most of America's small cities, even ones that hadn't been directly damaged during the conquest.
Almost gleefully, Tully watched another car dealership explode into ruins on the screen. An old Hyundai dealership, this one. Glass flying everywhere, of course, flames pouring out—but there weren't even any cars being wrecked. From the looks of it, that dealership had gone out of business at least a decade earlier. A lot of the windows had already been broken even before the Jao lasers hit them.
And my daddy swore by Fords, anyway. Buy American, he'd always say.
* * *
The invaders finally met resistance when they started entering the residential districts. On the screen, yellow bursts of automatic weapons-fire split the night, distinctly different from the Jao laser beams.
Aille tapped that carved stick of his against the heel of
"I am getting disturbing reports," the Pluthrak Subcommandant said. "I must go closer and observe in person. Come with me, General Kralik."
Knowing what was expected by now, Tully hurried to precede Aille out of the command center, with Aguilera alongside and Tamt on their heels. Once they got outside, he saw that the rain had started up again. In fact, it was coming down hard. Yaut motioned to a Jao vehicle standing by and it pulled up before them. The vehicle was a Jao equivalent of an armored personnel carrier, with the curved and rounded lines that characterized all their vehicles.
Clambering into it, Tully discovered the interior was designed something like a large van; except, here too, Jao rounded lines prevailed instead of human boxy ones. It was all very artistic, he thought sourly—like "art deco," if he remembered the right term—but a pain in the ass to sit up straight in. Jao, with their long torsos and relatively short legs, were comfortable riding in a half-crouched position. Humans weren't.
The fraghta and Aille got in the front, next to the driver, while Tamt, Kralik, Aguilera, and Tully piled into the rear.
Tully's fingers turned the locator band round and round his arm. He felt like a tagged pet monkey. True, he could console himself with the thought that Aille was using a major general as if he were just an aide. But that wasn't much consolation, since Tully didn't really have anything against Kralik; and, in any event, the general never seemed like the type of officer who fretted much over his status.
Moving as quickly as Jao ground vehicles could, it wasn't long before they had overtaken the Jao column fighting its way into Salem. "Fighting" was the word, too. The vehicle they were riding in had audio equipment as good as the screens that substituted for windows on all sides. Automatic weapons-fire was a constant rattle now. The Jao had obviously found the combatants. At one point, the vehicle had to maneuver around a Jao combat vehicle resting crazily on its side, smoke rising from its turret and its maglevs failed.