Oblivion, page 23
“My faith is my shield,” Nizat said.
“I have faith, too.”
“You also have the Luminal Beacons,” Nizat said. “Take cover.”
‘Lakosee snapped his mandibles in frustration, but dropped behind the boulder as ordered. “I have ordered the spanning troop to come up at once. The beam and focus rifles, as well.”
“Good,” Nizat said. “We need to cross as soon as possible.”
Even as he spoke, the enemy vehicles reached the ravine. But instead of stopping to unload passengers, they slowed to a crawl and drove over the edge, then began a slow descent down the center.
Nizat was so shocked he did not quite understand what he was seeing. He traced the ravine downward, to where it joined the canyon in a wide, wedge-shaped mouth. And running horizontally across the opening, separating it from the immense depths of the chasm and extending along the canyon wall in both directions, was a narrow strip of horizontal terrain.
The image was dancing crazily with heat refraction—perhaps because the temperature varied so greatly between the canyon’s shady interior and its scorching rim—but the strip seemed to run as far as Nizat could see.
“ ‘Lakosee?” Nizat pointed down toward the horizontal strip. “What does that resemble?”
‘Lakosee peered around the edge of the boulder. “A tunnel,” he said. “The shape is too consistent to be a cave.”
It took Nizat a moment to find anything that resembled either a tunnel or a cave, but finally he saw what ‘Lakosee was referring to: a dark area shaped like a flattened diamond, located on the downhill side of the strip he had been asking about.
It was almost certainly the outlet of a culvert.
“I see the tunnel,” Nizat said. “But look directly above that. What is that level strip it passes beneath?”
‘Lakosee paused for a moment, then said, “That can only be a road.”
“Then we are in agreement,” Nizat said. “And now we must ask ourselves, why are the humans trying to beat us to it?”
“To deny us a bridgehead,” ‘Lakosee said. “If we cannot cross the canyon, we cannot board their ship.”
“For that to be true, they would have to know we cannot call in air transport and simply fly over the canyon. How would they know that?”
“Because we have not done so,” ‘Lakosee said. “Why would we be doing this if we could simply be airborne?”
Nizat was still pondering the question when the Master of Rangers came up behind ‘Lakosee. A large, stocky Sangheili in blue, energy-shielded armor, he was missing two fingers and half a mandible—disfigurements that only seemed to make him seem all the more formidable. Seeing that Nizat was standing in the open, he did not kneel behind a boulder as the steward was doing . . . but he stood directly behind ‘Lakosee, where at least the lower half of his body would be protected. Nizat expanded his comm net to include the new arrival. “Master ‘Zinwasee, we were just discussing infidel tactics.” He pointed into the ravine, where five human vehicles were about a quarter of the way down. “Why are the humans trying to reach that road before us?”
“Why does not matter, only that they fail.” ‘Zinwasee gestured toward a line of Sangheili marksmen who were dropping into firing position along the canyon rim. “With your permission.”
“By all means,” Nizat said. “What of the spanning troop?”
‘Zinwasee pointed in the opposite direction, past Nizat up the canyon. “They are already here.”
Nizat turned to find twenty members of the Steadfast Strike’s crew approaching with their equipment—ten spools of carbolium cable, a bag of transport harnesses, several fusing wands, an anti-gravity launching tube, and twenty nioboron harpoons hastily fabricated in the frigate’s metal shop. They stopped about three hundred units away and began working in small teams. Fortunately, they were concealed from the humans by the shoulder of the ravine, but even if that had not been the case, they would still have been out of range.
For now.
An anchoring team loaded a nioboron harpoon into the launching tube, then used the anti-gravity propulsor to drive it deep into the stony ground. At the same time, the line team prepared the cable for launch, removing one spool cap and dumping the coil onto the ground. As all this was happening, the fusers rigged the second harpoon by looping one end of the cable through the threading eye and using their fusing wands to weld it in place.
Once the first harpoon was in the ground, a second team of fusers ran the other end of the cable through the threading eye and tied a large retaining knot in the end to prevent it from being pulled back through. After that task was completed, the anchoring team fired the second harpoon across the canyon, where it sank into the cliff face about two hundred units below the rim. The line team pulled the cable taut and held it in place while the fusers secured it—and the first spanning cable was ready to use, a silvery line the diameter of a finger that descended to the opposite wall of the chasm at a thirty-degree angle.
The entire process took barely ten breaths before the troop was gathering its equipment and moving to the next position. Nizat leaned out over the rim to inspect the cable and saw that the second harpoon had been especially well-placed, burying itself into the cliff just a short distance above the road. It would be a simple matter to slide down the line to the other side of the canyon, then drop off and land ready to engage the enemy.
Nizat rose. “Call your rangers, Master ‘Zinwasee. We will cross as soon as possible.”
Before Nizat could start for the spanning cables, the beam rifles began to shriek along the rim to his left. He glanced across the canyon into the ravine and saw white flashes coming from the projectile weapons mounted in the back of the enemy vehicles. But they were firing up toward their targets and Nizat’s marksmen were protected by the canyon rim, so the infidel attacks did little more than chew at the stone. As the vehicles continued to take damage, blurry shapes began to leap out of the back. Most of the figures quickly vanished behind rocks or into brush, suggesting they had escaped injury.
It did not take long before Nizat began to glimpse heat-blurred shapes descending the narrow ravine on foot. Moving from one boulder to another, they were ducking and dodging, risking death whenever they had to cross a few paces of open ground. Twice he saw a figure drop when a particle beam erupted in its midsection, and once a vehicle overturned when the pilot was hit. But the humans were making difficult targets of themselves, and it seemed clear that at least eight or nine of them would survive to reach the road.
And there were still at least a hundred humans on the plateau above, approaching the head of the ravine. If Nizat allowed even a small force of infidels to take the road before he did, they would quickly reinforce it and deny him the foothold he needed to bring his cadre across the chasm.
Nizat broke into a run. “Quickly, Master ‘Zinwasee!”
The spanning troop had the second cable set by the time he reached them. He accepted a transport harness from a member of the line team, then slipped the support bar between his legs, secured the bonding tab to his torso armor, and connected it all together with the gravity winch. As he reached over to clip the control ring onto the spanning cable, the cracking rattle of human weapons continued to echo out of the canyon.
Nizat did not bother looking toward the sound. Its muffled quality suggested the humans were firing from inside the ravine, so he likely could not have seen them anyway.
“What is the situation, Master ‘Zinwasee?”
There was a brief pause while ‘Zinwasee queried his marksmen, then he said, “Under control. The human weapons are starting to have an effect, but we have destroyed another of their vehicles, and they are not yet able to bring their fire to bear on the spanning lines.”
“Then we go now.” Nizat took his plasma rifle off its carrying mount. “Follow as quickly as you can.”
Nizat raced forward. Wondering if he might not be taking the Sangheili lead-from-the-front ethos a little too seriously, he reached the rim and stepped into nothingness.
He felt his stomach rise toward his throat, plummeting ten units before the control ring finally caught his weight and began to carry him forward. He descended at an angle for another ten units before the braking field began to bite, slowing his progress to a crawl. Holding his plasma rifle in one hand, he used the other to pull down on the braking control, reducing the friction so he could pick up speed again.
It had been a long time since Nizat’s field training, so it took him ten breaths to find a tension that allowed him to slide forward swiftly but still under control. By then, the Master of Rangers was already speeding ahead on the cable to his right, and the third harpoon was pulling its cable past to his left.
Nizat told himself not to look down—but did anyway. A thousand units below lay a shimmering ribbon of blue. Whether it was water or mirage was impossible to say; he knew only that the last thing he wanted was to find out.
He raised his gaze and looked down the canyon to his left, where the bright dashes and rays of his warriors’ beam and focus rifles were pouring into the ravine. The orange dashes of contrail bullets—the humans called them tracer rounds—were streaming back in the opposite direction, rising toward the canyon rim. Nizat doubted that the infidels were hitting much of anything yet, but neither were his rangers—and the human attacks were rising from the mouth of the ravine, close to the road.
‘Lakosee’s voice sounded in Nizat’s helmet. “Fleetmaster, please watch your speed. We are already impressed.”
Nizat allowed the braking control to rise and bite the spanning cable again. He immediately began to slow, but when he looked forward again, the canyon wall was still coming up too fast. He shoved the brake up and lifted his feet, ready to take the impact in his legs. But the rig did its work, and he decelerated so hard that he pitched forward into a standing position . . . and came to a stop hanging eight units above the center of the road.
‘Zinwasee appeared at Nizat’s knees. “You have not lost the touch, I see. Can you manage the drop?”
“You have a more important task than helping me.” Nizat pointed down the road toward the ravine mouth. It was only three hundred units away, a broad gap in the cliff where the road crossed over the drainage tunnel. “The humans are nearly at the road. If they reach it—”
“I will not allow it,” ‘Zinwasee said. “Send my rangers forward as they arrive.”
Master ‘Zinwasee started down the road at a sprint.
Nizat deactivated the bonding tab and dropped the last four units to the ground, then retrieved the support bar from between his legs and quickly hung the entire harness back on the slider ring. The line team had been able to assemble only a limited number of rigs, so midway through the cadre’s crossing, a warrior would have to attach a retraction tab so the harnesses could be recalled back up the cable.
Nizat turned to follow ‘Zinwasee and found ‘Lakosee thirty units down the road, freeing himself from the next spanning cable. Rather than chastise the steward for crossing the canyon before being summoned, Nizat simply ran forward to join him. Initiative and bravery were to be valued in young majors—and if Nizat expected his plan to work, he was going to need the Luminal Beacons that ‘Lakosee was carrying.
A fourth harpoon streaked across the canyon and planted itself in the cliff wall. Thinking it might be wise to coordinate with the anchoring team before advancing too far down the road, Nizat stopped at ‘Lakosee’s side.
“The Beacons are safe?” he asked.
“Indeed.” ‘Lakosee secured his empty harness to his slider ring, then patted a large equipment pod secured to his armor. “All we need is to make contact and—”
A deafening crack sounded from the ravine mouth, so loud that it overpowered even the clatter of the other human weapons. Nizat looked toward the noise and found the Master of Rangers a hundred units ahead, his energy shield crackling with overload static. A second crack echoed from the ravine mouth, and a jet of purple blood shot from a hole in the master’s backplate.
“Sniper!” Nizat grabbed ‘Lakosee, then hurled him down beside the cliff and jumped on top of him. “Stay down!”
“But, Fleetmaster—”
“Do not move,” Nizat ordered. “Protect the Beacons.”
‘Lakosee stopped struggling to free himself. “As you command.”
The sniper rifle continued to crack. Nizat glanced back at the spanning cables to see what kind of support he and ‘Lakosee could expect—and found rangers hanging limp on the first two cables, their bodies halfway across the canyon and pouring blood, their braking bars biting hard against the spanning cables.
Another crack sounded, then another, and the ranger on ‘Lakosee’s cable fell limp. His descent began to slow, his body suddenly dripping violet fluid, and then his braking bar brought him to a halt, leaving him to dangle in the middle of the canyon like his dead fellows. Before those cables could be used again, another warrior would have to slide down and cut the bodies free—and that was not going to happen while there was an infidel sniper covering the canyon.
Weapons continued to clatter from the ravine mouth. When Nizat looked toward the sound, his gaze was drawn to the fourth spanning cable, where another ranger hung dying.
“ ‘Zinwasee’s second blade,” Nizat said. “Who is he?”
“Oro ‘Gulya’see,” ‘Lakosee said. “Shall I inform him of his promotion?”
“Do it right away,” Nizat said. “And tell him to send no more rangers to die on the cables. They will cover us from the rim. No infidels are to advance up this road.”
“As you command.”
Nizat remained on top of ‘Lakosee for a moment, watching the roadside and searching for the sniper’s nest. Most of the tracer bullets seemed to be coming from down in the ravine. But the sniper would have to be higher, almost level with the roadbed, to have killed ‘Zinwasee. The most likely place for the nest would be on the near side of the ravine, where the road pressed up against the cliff. Nizat watched the area for ten breaths . . . and saw nothing.
He was no infantry soldier, but it seemed to him that snipers operated on the same principle as stealth vessels: they endeavored to never be where they were expected. Nizat moved his search to the boulder field on the far slope of the ravine. Despite the heat shimmer, he soon spotted a short, undulating rod striped with triangles of black and gray. It was protruding from between two large stones at an angle that encompassed both ‘Zinwasee’s body and the spanning cables behind Nizat. But the field of fire did not appear to include the area close to the cliff, where Nizat lay with ‘Lakosee and the Beacons.
He continued to study the rod and finally discerned the dark circle of a muzzle opening. So, definitely an enemy sniper. Perhaps not a great one, to have been found so easily—but good enough to have killed ‘Zinwasee and four Fleet Rangers. Nizat marked the location on his helmet interface, then transmitted it to ‘Lakosee.
“Have the cadre lay fire on that location.” Confident now that the sniper could not damage the Beacons, Nizat rolled off ‘Lakosee. “Kill whatever moves.”
‘Lakosee relayed the command, and the rangers began to concentrate their fire as directed. The sniper barrel quickly withdrew. A moment later, a blurry figure with a soft, bush-like silhouette began to scramble across the slope—then took a beam strike through its center and tumbled out of sight.
But the sniper’s death did not force the humans to retreat. They remained in the ravine, attacking Nizat’s cadre on the Sangheili side of the canyon. Their fire continued to build, growing so fierce that when the spanning troop tried to launch the fifth cable, the entire anchoring team was dropped in a single breath.
The launching tube slipped from the hands of a dying warrior, bounced off a boulder, and landed with one end hanging over the rim.
“Cease spanning operations!” Nizat ordered. There was no sense continuing a strategy that, at best, would only result in more Fleet Rangers hanging over the canyon like chigguts in a longo sack. “Have the spanning troop withdraw!”
“Withdraw?” ‘Lakosee asked. “Perhaps they could relocate farther up—”
“Too late. By the time any reinforcements arrived, we would no longer have need of them.” Nizat moved a few units away from ‘Lakosee, then reached out. “I will take the anti-gravity harness. You wear the shielding unit.”
‘Lakosee rolled onto his side, then opened the carrying satchel and passed the harness to Nizat. “You believe we are going to die?”
“There are two of us and a hundred of them.” Nizat was surprised to realize that saying the words made him feel almost joyful. They were closer than ever to slipping the Beacons into ONI hands—and as long as they succeeded in that, they would perish among the Worthy. “We would be fools to ignore the possibility.”
“Then I am honored to die at the side of a Paragon,” ‘Lakosee began to affix the personal shielding unit to his armor. “Even if I do not find the prospect quite so cheerful as it seems you do.”
“You should.” Nizat secured one of the harness pods to his armor, just above his breast. It was not where the pod was normally worn, but he would need ‘Lakosee’s assistance to secure it to his backplate, and the humans would not know the difference. “We have never been so close to succeeding in our plan.”
“But if we die here,” ‘Lakosee asked, “who will there be to carry it out?”
“ ‘Weyodosee will take over in my absence.”
“Forgive me, Fleetmaster, but I must speak freely. ‘Weyodosee is a coward.”
“But a cunning coward,” Nizat said. “And one who will have eight intrusion corvettes at his command. Once he sees that ONI has taken the bait, he will execute my plan—and hope that destroying ONI is enough to win the Hierarchs’ forgiveness for following me.”
“I fail to see why we should have pleasant thoughts about ‘Weyodosee’s forgiveness,” ‘Lakosee said, “if it comes at the price of our death.”
“Because with ONI’s destruction comes vindication before the gods.” Nizat attached the second pod to the other side of his breastplate. “We will be redeemed in their eyes and returned to the Path of Divine Transcendence. Have no fear of that.”
