Through the wash of pain that radiated from her shoulder Lyra gasped, “The gun … get my gun!” The source of the scream must have been a Na who’d made contact with the electrified hull as it tried to board the hydrofoil.
Careful not to touch the metal another Na took aim with an axe. The bone blade was a meter across. At the last instant Swd lunged into its path, to fall gushing blood and life back against Lyra, the weapon’s intended target. Yulour had to kick the nearly split body aside as they fell inside.
Etienne was there to help, his eyes on Lyra’s shoulder where the club had struck. She moaned when he touched her.
He closed the hatch, then ordered her to move her right arm.
“Hurts like hell, but it works,” she told him.
“Rotate,” he said curtly. She did so, turning the arm palm up, then palm down. “Lucky you.”
“Not so lucky,” she told him painfully. “My pistol’s outside. That’s twice I’ve lost it when I needed it most. Going to have to work on my grip.” She glanced at Tyl. “Did you see where it landed?”
“The lightning thrower flew through the air. I saw not where it landed.”
“The little metal tool,” Yulour mumbled frantically, trying to keep abreast of what was happening, “I saw where it is.”
“Why didn’t you go after it?” Lyra asked him. “I told you to go after it.”
Yulour looked away, hurt. “We were more concerned with saving thee, Lyra,” Tyl told her. He looked at the porter and said gently. “It’s all right, Yulour. Tell us where the lightning thrower landed.”
“In the water,” he said brightly.
“Oh hell!” Lyra looked up at her husband. “I’m sorry, Etienne, I’m sorry. I never saw them. We went out on deck, everything seemed normal, and then something landed on me like back taxes.”
“Never mind that now. Just take it easy with that shoulder.”
Something went whang atop the cabin and everyone looked upward, but the metal held. Thin as it was, the alloy was far too tough to yield to mere bone and stone.
“What will we fight them with?” Tyl wondered. “It is dark and they are very close.”
“We don’t have to fight them with anything, Tyl. Help Lyra forward.”
Outside the cockpit was a choice scene from Dante. The hydrofoil was surrounded by at least thirty of the towering aborigines, who were jumping up and down, howling and spitting and gesturing angrily at the boat. The Na carefully avoided all contact with the hull and when one of them attempted to express his feelings by urinating on it, they no longer tried that either. They did use long spears and the ubiquitous clubs to hammer on the sides. The wood and stone were poor conductors and the Na had discovered they could flail away at the hull without risk to themselves.
As the Redowls watched, one especially massive warrior tried to vault over the railing. He didn’t quite make it and grabbed a hold with his hands. His lower body slammed into the hull and he lit up in a shower of blue sparks. When the thick fingers finally let loose the huge body splashed into the river.
Etienne assumed the pilot’s chair, his fingers flying over the controls. A muffled roar sounded aft as the engine came to life. The hydrofoil lifted half a meter on its repellers and shot forward, scattering Na. One didn’t dodge quickly enough, and a sickening thud sounded from the bow as the aborigine was knocked aside.
Nightscope screens came alive, revealing the rest of the war party falling astern. Several bodies bobbed in the shallow water together with pieces of the individual run over by the boat and a smaller silhouette: Yij. Angrily Etienne spun the hydrofoil on its axis and sent it roaring down on their attackers, plowing through the now panicky Na and sending several additional bodies flying. The sound of metal meeting flesh momentarily filled him with an unholy delight and he damned himself even as he pivoted for another run.
As the Na threw their weapons aside and scrambled onto the beach he bashed through the survivors two more times. By then they were in full retreat outside the cavern, not even turning to hurl an occasional insult back at their intended prey. Etienne slowed as he beached the boat on the far side of the Skar.
“The middle of the river’s still deep enough here to prevent them from crossing after us,” he muttered. “Stay here.” He took his pistol as Lyra assumed the pilot’s seat, favoring her injured shoulder.
“One nighttime stroll on deck’s enough for this little lady.” He smiled thinly at her by way of reply.
Tyl and Yulour followed him aft. The doorway opened easily, readmitting the night. He had a sudden thought, closed the door immediately and directed the Tsla to wait for him as he disappeared belowdecks.
He reappeared carrying a pair of long metal rods, showed one to Tyl. “These are for making seismic soundings in spots inaccessible from the boat. Never mind what I mean, just take them.” The Tsla did so.
“Those are explosive charges on the tips. Small lightnings. There are five charges on each pole. You press this here,” and he showed the fire buttons to his companions, “after you’ve touched the end of the pole to your target. They’re difficult to use, but they were not designed as weapons. They’ll be effective if you have to use them, though.”
“I understand, Etienne,” Tyl told him, lightly fingering the fire button. Etienne turned to the other Tsla.
“How about you, Yulour? Do you understand? See, you press there after you touch whatever you want to stop with the other end of the pole.”
The porter eyed him blankly, his expression a bovine mixture of sadness and confusion. Sighing, Etienne carefully set the second pole to one side.
“Never mind. Stay close as we go outside.”
He cracked the doorway to the deck for the second time. Outside it was silent as the departed, an unfortunate simile. Holding the asynapt out in front of his body he edged out, keeping low and nearly stumbling over the cleaved corpse of Swd. The porter had been a faithful worker, obedient and always ready to lend a hand. Now he was only a lesson in Tsla anatomy. Etienne found he was too mad to be sickened by the sight.
Tyl and Yulour stayed tight on his heels. Three Na bodies lay draped over the stern rail where they’d perished in a last-ditch attempt to board the boat. They looked even bigger up close than they did from a distance. Etienne inspected the shore. Nothing moved on the gravel. The river itself and the mouth of the ice cavern were equally devoid of life.
“Shouldn’t have let them surprise us like that. Always underestimating. You’d think we’d have learned our lesson by now.”
“I am sorrowed,” Tyl said solemnly.
“Nothing for you to be sorry about, Tyl. The responsibility’s ours. We’re the ‘masters of superior technology.’” He let out a rueful laugh. “Some joke. It’s just that we haven’t seen Na or signs of Na since that day back in Turput and I didn’t expect to encounter them this far north. Shows how adaptable they are. I didn’t think. I’m the one who should be sorrowed.” He gestured at Swd’s body.
“Now two more of your people have died.”
“Death comes to all of us eventually,” Tyl replied. “You ask that I not sorrow for thee. Now I ask that thee sorrow not for us. Swd and Yij achieved what they could not have in a dozen lifetimes, because of thee and thy mate. Their souls are grateful to thee, not angry.”
“Well I’m angry! Damned angry. Angry at myself, angry at …” the wind went out of him with a rush as Yulour struck him in the midsection and drove him backwards. As a result the small spear passed beneath his arm and pierced his side instead of his spine.
Tyl whirled and leaped to jab the end of the seismic probe against the neck of the Na who had thrown the spear. He pressed the fire button. With a sharp report, the Na’s head blew off its wide shoulders, arching into the darkness in a spray of blood and bone fragments. It landed in the water with a splash.
Yulour was rolling away from Etienne, who lay on his back, staring up at the roof of the ice cave. With great care the porter extracted the spear. Blood quickly rushed from the wound. Tyl rose to alert Lyra but she’d heard the explosion and now joined them on deck.
Her eyes widened as she saw the extent and depth of the wound. She vanished belowdecks again and reemerged moments later carrying the boat’s first-aid kit.
Etienne was breathing raggedly as she, worked to halt the flow of blood. His pulse was racing and uneven.
“What happened?” she asked the Tsla as she worked.
Tyl explained while Yulour looked on helplessly. “That one,” and he indicated the decapitated body of the Na who had thrown the spear, “was not dead but only pretending.”
Lyra saw that the headless corpse was spraddled across the two other bodies. “It was shielded from the full charge. It lay still, waiting for its chance. They have that much intelligence, anyway. Too damn much intelligence by half, the hairy bastards.” She glanced up at Yulour. “Throw them over the side, and be careful not to touch the metal outside. It’s still holding a charge, a spirit death.”
“Yes, Teacher.”
Yulour showed his considerable strength by disengaging each corpse in turn and shoving the dead weight into the water. Then he returned to carry Etienne into the Redowls’ cabin.
Both Tsla looked on respectfully as Lyra ministered to her husband. A third figure joined them later.
“I didn’t know what to do, or how to help.” Homat looked very small alongside the two Tsla.
