luck.”
“Thanks,” Pierce said. “Watch yourself, okay? You and your mother.”
Lorne winced. Safe in their cave, while the others faced death. “I will,” he said.
“I mean it,” Pierce said, a sudden new intensity in his voice. “We’ve been hit hard, and we’re riding low in the water. We’ll come back; but right now, what we need is a symbol of defiance. You and your mother are that symbol.” He smiled humorlessly. “It doesn’t hurt that you’re both legends, either. So stay hidden. And stay free.”
They would indeed stay free, Lorne promised silently as he retraced his steps across the slender cable to the other side of the river. But they wouldn’t stay hidden. Not by a long shot.
So Colonel Reivaro didn’t like rogue Cobras showing up in his headquarters and threatening him? Good. Lorne didn’t like what the Marines were doing to his town and province, either. That made them even.
Reivaro seemed to think fear was a good way to dominate the people of Aventine. Time to see how well he liked it when the push came from the other direction.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Merrick had set his nanocomputer clock circuit to wake him after five hours. But the stress of the day, plus the hard floor of the hideout, made sleep elusive and unrestful. Four and a half hours after he and Anya had settled down, after already having been awake for a good half hour, he finally gave up.
Anya took the short night in stride. She also seemed to have accepted that her failure to lead them someplace useful wasn’t really her fault. Or if she hadn’t, at least she made no further apologies or self-deprecating comments about it.
The sky to the east had begun turning to blue, Merrick saw as he lifted the boulder and climbed back into the cool, fresh air, though the sun had yet to rise high enough to be visible over the mountains. He made a quick check for Trofts predators, and finding neither he and Anya headed off once again into the forest.
As he had the night before, Merrick made sure to watch and listen carefully for roving patrols. Once again, the aliens were conspicuous by their absence. Either they were still way the hell off elsewhere in the forest, far enough that their aircars weren’t audible, or else they’d concluded he really was dead and all gone back to their bases.
Merrick wished he could believe that. It would make life so much easier if he and Anya could move around more or less freely.
Unfortunately, he didn’t believe it for a minute. He’d taken down a Troft aircar with one of his fingertip lasers, and even though he’d tried to make it look like the shot had come from his hang glider’s control bar instead there was no way around the fact that advanced weapons weren’t something Muninn’s human slaves should have access to. Even if the Trofts believed he was dead, they would certainly keep up the search until they had at least recovered his body.
Maybe they weren’t patrolling the skies nearby because they were concentrating all their recovery efforts on the distant ravine. But no matter how impenetrable the area’s vegetation, sooner or later they would realize he hadn’t died there and would expand the search. When that happened, Merrick knew, he’d better have a plan ready.
The crash site that Merrick and Anya had seen two nights earlier from halfway up the mountain behind Anya’s village hadn’t been very revealing. It had been little more than a burned-edge gash through the trees, with the doomed vehicle itself out of sight. About all Merrick had been able to glean from the view was that it had been a large aircraft or small spacecraft, and further deduction had suggested it had been one of the freighters bringing in razorarms from Qasama. Why the Trofts wanted razorarms here, particularly razorarms that had learned that humans weren’t to be messed with, was still a mystery.
The crash was several days old, and Merrick wasn’t sure what exactly he thought he might find there. But he
“Thanks,” Pierce said. “Watch yourself, okay? You and your mother.”
Lorne winced. Safe in their cave, while the others faced death. “I will,” he said.
“I mean it,” Pierce said, a sudden new intensity in his voice. “We’ve been hit hard, and we’re riding low in the water. We’ll come back; but right now, what we need is a symbol of defiance. You and your mother are that symbol.” He smiled humorlessly. “It doesn’t hurt that you’re both legends, either. So stay hidden. And stay free.”
They would indeed stay free, Lorne promised silently as he retraced his steps across the slender cable to the other side of the river. But they wouldn’t stay hidden. Not by a long shot.
So Colonel Reivaro didn’t like rogue Cobras showing up in his headquarters and threatening him? Good. Lorne didn’t like what the Marines were doing to his town and province, either. That made them even.
Reivaro seemed to think fear was a good way to dominate the people of Aventine. Time to see how well he liked it when the push came from the other direction.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Merrick had set his nanocomputer clock circuit to wake him after five hours. But the stress of the day, plus the hard floor of the hideout, made sleep elusive and unrestful. Four and a half hours after he and Anya had settled down, after already having been awake for a good half hour, he finally gave up.
Anya took the short night in stride. She also seemed to have accepted that her failure to lead them someplace useful wasn’t really her fault. Or if she hadn’t, at least she made no further apologies or self-deprecating comments about it.
The sky to the east had begun turning to blue, Merrick saw as he lifted the boulder and climbed back into the cool, fresh air, though the sun had yet to rise high enough to be visible over the mountains. He made a quick check for Trofts predators, and finding neither he and Anya headed off once again into the forest.
As he had the night before, Merrick made sure to watch and listen carefully for roving patrols. Once again, the aliens were conspicuous by their absence. Either they were still way the hell off elsewhere in the forest, far enough that their aircars weren’t audible, or else they’d concluded he really was dead and all gone back to their bases.
Merrick wished he could believe that. It would make life so much easier if he and Anya could move around more or less freely.
Unfortunately, he didn’t believe it for a minute. He’d taken down a Troft aircar with one of his fingertip lasers, and even though he’d tried to make it look like the shot had come from his hang glider’s control bar instead there was no way around the fact that advanced weapons weren’t something Muninn’s human slaves should have access to. Even if the Trofts believed he was dead, they would certainly keep up the search until they had at least recovered his body.
Maybe they weren’t patrolling the skies nearby because they were concentrating all their recovery efforts on the distant ravine. But no matter how impenetrable the area’s vegetation, sooner or later they would realize he hadn’t died there and would expand the search. When that happened, Merrick knew, he’d better have a plan ready.
The crash site that Merrick and Anya had seen two nights earlier from halfway up the mountain behind Anya’s village hadn’t been very revealing. It had been little more than a burned-edge gash through the trees, with the doomed vehicle itself out of sight. About all Merrick had been able to glean from the view was that it had been a large aircraft or small spacecraft, and further deduction had suggested it had been one of the freighters bringing in razorarms from Qasama. Why the Trofts wanted razorarms here, particularly razorarms that had learned that humans weren’t to be messed with, was still a mystery.
The crash was several days old, and Merrick wasn’t sure what exactly he thought he might find there. But he
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