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.
“Be quiet, Homat.” To his credit the Mai said nothing more, remaining silent alongside his taller companions.
They watched as Lyra slowly passed a small plastic device over Etienne’s side and chest. When she finished and put it aside her expression was grim. Etienne tried to reassure her by smiling, but the pain made it difficult.
“Well … doctor?”
“You’re bleeding internally. I can stop it temporarily. I’m afraid it may be an arterial lesion. I have to stop it, Etienne, or you’ll bleed to death. I wish I knew more surgery.”
“Thank God you don’t,” he whispered. “You’ve spent twenty years messing up my mind. I don’t need you fouling up my insides as well.”
“We’ve got to get you back to Steamer Station where they can fix you properly. You know how good the thranx physicians are.”
“I know. It’s funny when you think that they’re better than human surgeons, them not having any bones and all. How long can you ‘temporarily’ stop the bleeding?”
She didn’t look at him. “I don’t know. The spear went a long way in, Etienne. I can seal the break and stop the bleeding and close you up, but there’s no guarantee it won’t break open again anytime. If it does, I don’t know if your circulatory system will accept another heat patch.
“The computer says you should rest as much as possible. Some medication will help. But you can forget about jumping around boulders and cliff sides or you’ll tear your guts open again.”
“I’ll be a good little boy.” Despite the mild sarcasm his ready acquiescence confirmed the seriousness of the damage. Normally she had to strap him down to get him to take a vitamin pill.
