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Deadly Enemy - Logan Ryvenbark's Saga 1 Page 6


  Now, if nothing else will go wrong, Rab thought.

  The attacking Soltarians had to have stayed in a special chamber, below this level. And somehow they blocked the scanning waves. Then, they waited for the right time to attack…

  Chapter 16

  Matt Ritter, sweating with all the effort of building the defensive wall, took a break and peered at the castle again. He was surprised when he saw a human walk along the wall.

  “Major,” he yelled.

  “What is it, Mr. Ritter?” I said.

  “Is the General Conbor you spoke of a tall guy with sort of an oval face, pointed nose and chin?”

  “If I remember correctly that sounds like him,” I said.

  “He’s on the wall, sir.”

  “What?”

  I stepped over and raised the binoculars to my eyes. When I focused the lenses, General Conbor came into view. It had been a long time since I had seen him, but I recognized him. He hadn’t aged much. Obviously, he wanted to survey the battle. What surprised me even more than seeing him were the two plump lizard men walking beside him. I had forgotten what he called his alien allies on Vanodor, but as I watched them walk, the name came back to me. Kollaws. So how did they fit into the picture with Soltarians?

  I was not going to make the mistake of allowing him to escape again. I’d put him in chains and take him back to face Federation justice or kill him. The latter option was easier, but the Federation would probably prefer him in a courtroom. He stopped, turned and looked toward the forest. That is him, I thought. The same beady little eyes.

  “We meet again,” I said aloud.

  A half-dozen Raiders saluted as they walked up. They held their long laser rifles.

  “You’re going to be our snipers. Climb up the trees. When the Soltarians get in range, fire on my order. And keep firing. Looking at their physical shape I’m guessing our enemies can’t run that fast. I’m guessing they’re very slow on the ground. I’m also guessing they haven’t seen any ground fighting. Those two things will be deadly for them.”

  The soldiers nodded and started climbing the trees. With the barricades up, the other Raiders checked their weapons. The first squad had sixteen men and women, so we were considerably outnumbered. But with our weapons, those numbers shouldn’t mean much. General Conbor had an extremely high IQ, but he was not a military man. Even a very intelligent man, if inexperienced, can make mistakes. Conbor, I hoped, was about to make such a mistake.

  “Major Ryvenbark! Major Logan Ryvenbark!”

  I looked through the binoculars again. The general had some type of megaphone he spoke into. Had to be a powerful one.

  “I know you can hear me, major. So I will make you an offer. Your command can be wiped out in a few minutes. But I have another option for you. You will die here and I will kill you. The defeat on Vanodor was humiliating and I have planned vengeance for ten years. But if you meet me on the field of battle I will let your soldiers leave. One against one. Knife against knife. Your squad may return unhindered to the future. Only you will be left here. Think about it for a few minutes, major. I have a messenger who will bring a means of communication to you. When he arrives, give me your answer. If you don’t, my armies will attack.”

  I checked the scanner. The three forces marching toward us were black dots on a green screen, inching closer.

  “Don’t do it,” Astrid said. “Not that you wouldn’t mind stabbing him.”

  “I wonder if he would actually go through with it. The only people he knifed on Vanodor were prisoners tied to a stake. Besides, we’re not here for my personal convenience. Mr. Ritter, how close are our adversaries?”

  “They should be within range in about six minutes, sir.”

  “You know, brilliant people are not brilliant in every area of life. They can make mistakes just like anybody. Conbor is not all that wise in wanting a battle. From what I can tell we have better weapons than his forces. But I do like his ploy. If I go out and play swordsman with him, his armies can creep closer to our positions; close enough they could overwhelm us in an attack. But I’m not going to play his game. We fire as soon as the Soltarians get in range.”

  I looked up. Our snipers nestled comfortably in the branches. They had clear shots at the advancing armies. The Soltarians to the east could be seen clearly now without binoculars. Tall and ugly. Not exactly a trained military either. The columns were ragged. They did not march in precision. I doubted they would stay calm when we poured fire and lasers into their ranks. I smiled at Astrid.

  “I think this shows that Conbor doesn’t think on his feet well. He expected us to materialize in the valley, where his shooters could pick us off without danger to themselves. I don’t think he had a good backup plan.”

  “You have a backup plan?” Astrid said.

  “I sure do. But my backup plan is the same as my first plan. We win. They lose,” I said.

  The Soltarians broke ranks. Soldiers spread out. Soon they could link up with the Soltarian force from the south. When the group from the castle arrived, they could easily surround us. I forgot the name of the general in the Korean War who faced the same situation. “They have us surrounded, boys. That’s great. We can fire in any direction!” That’s a paraphrase. But he said something very similar.

  A horseman – Conbor’s messenger – rode toward us. He wasn’t in a hurry. He rode slowly. No doubt commanded by the general to go at low speed. The more time he took getting to us, the more time the armies had to surround us. The Soltarian messenger didn’t look too comfortable in the saddle; he probably hadn’t ridden too many horses back on his home planet. I like riding, but horses are not ubiquitous across the galaxy. The bear-like rider almost fell twice. His hand grabbed the horse to steady himself. His feet were too big for the stirrups. With their size, the Soltarians weren’t graceful creatures, but the rider looked more awkward than most. When he slowed for a stop, he pulled the reins too tight. The horse neighed and reared up, knocking the rider to the ground. He hit with a solid bam on the hard earth. He stood up, growling, and started to walk toward the horse.

  I stepped out from the forest.

  “Climb on your horse and get back to the general. Tell him that no matter how much I would enjoy a one-on-one with him, his deal is unacceptable.”

  The Soltarian’s cold, green eyes stared at me. He growled again. Two large incisors showed when he pulled back his lips.

  “Then you are a coward,” he said.

  “Yea, that must be it. Getting edgy in my old age. Should retire and play golf. I know Conbor’s gambit and it won’t work. I’m not going to have your armies creep up on us while I’m fighting the general. But tell him not to get impatient. I’ll come for him later. Tell him also I know the connection between the lizard guys and the Soltarians. That was a very creative idea by him. A stroke of pure genius. But it won’t work. Tell him he’s going to die here, along with his armies.”

  My words didn’t make the messenger look any happier.

  “We will see,” he said, as he mounted his horse.

  I turned and hastened back into the cover of the forest.

  “How much time do we have Mr. Ritter?”

  “The enemy will be in range in two minutes, sir.”

  “Then in we fire.”

  Chapter 17

  Our laser rifles are often called automatic. Technically that’s not the proper term, but it conveys what they can do. The so-called general was about to learn a lesson in warfare. I would have preferred to have the second squad with me, but being outnumbered doesn’t always mean the odds are against you. I grabbed my rifle. Astrid and I found an opening in our wooden wall and aimed. As we aimed, I thought the marching Soltarians looked as awkward on the ground as their colleague did riding his horse. I guess the general didn’t think of that when he created the race. But the Soltarians weren’t created for gracefulness.

  “Major, I think we have company,” Ritter yelled.

  “Someone else wants to join t
he party?”

  To our west, where we had materialized, both the air and ground seemed to blink, like it was a screen getting bad reception. Then Rab materialized. The platoon blinked into existence behind him. Soldiers grabbed boxes of weapons and ran into the forests. When Cajun ran in, she saluted.

  “Sorry for the delay, sir. We had a slight problem; an attack from Soltarians hiding in the cavern.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, sir. But we took care of it. We apologize for being late.”

  “You’re not late, Cajun. You’re right on time.”

  I had ordered the squad to fire in two minutes. The firing commenced in one minute and fifty-nine seconds after my command. Sometimes even veteran soldiers can get impatient. We had two types of laser weapons. The Armont model blasted yellow lasers that cut through flesh and bone — human or Soltarian. The Citken model shot blue lasers that pretty much did the same thing as the yellow lasers. The Raiders’ blue and yellow fire rained shots onto the oncoming Soltarians. They don’t make much noise, not as much as a sidearm or rifle with bullets. Just a low buzz. The noise came as Soltarians screamed in agony as blue and yellow lights clipped off arms and legs.

  They shot back, but our wooden protections deflected most of their fire. The six snipers fired so fast the air was ablaze in blue and yellow flashes. From their position the Soltarians tried a charge. But they were not fast. Lasers are. As the soldiers stumbled, blood poured out of their wounds. A Soltarian volley pinged off the tree I was using for cover. It blasted the bark off and careened into the forest. I fired back. A Soltarian face exploded when a blue laser hit it. Huge gaps now appeared in the charging Soltarian lines. We rained so much devastation I ordered a half-dozen Raiders to leave their dug-in positions and beef up our southern perimeter. One determined enemy, blood pouring from two wounds, grunted and growled until he came within ten feet of our lines. He lifted his rifle but yellow lights cut him in two.

  In space battle, you never smell the horrors of war. But on the ground you do. The Soltarians gave off a stench of open sewers. Many groaned and cried in agony. But the cries didn’t last for long. They died quickly on the field of blood. A few cursed the general.

  There are times when stupidity can be applauded. One of those times is when an enemy makes a mistake. I doubted General Conbor cared if his men lived or died. If he could have killed the Raiders he would have sacrificed every one of them.

  In one of the Allied World War II conferences, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill expressed great concern about the high number of casualties in a particular battle. Stalin sniffed with disdain. He cared nothing about the lives of men. Neither did Conbor. Every one of his men was expendable to him. One of the reasons I would have to retire eventually is a part of me died when one of my Raiders did.

  When the army from the east was dispatched, I split my force. Half the Raiders stood against the army advancing from the castle and the other half stayed at the rear, guarding against the troops racing toward us from the south. We were surrounded and outnumbered but, in this case, that wasn’t a bad thing.

  In 216 B.C. at the battle of Cannae, the Roman Army suffered its greatest defeat when it lost 50,000 men to Hannibal’s legions after being outmaneuvered by the opposing forces. The Roman army used brute force and nothing else. It had worked before, but not at Cannae. One of the lessons of the battle was: don’t let your forces get surrounded.

  Except if you have no choice. If we had been in an open field, the odds might have shifted. But as the Raiders began firing front and back I didn’t think this would be another battle of Cannae. At least not for the Raiders.

  The army at the rear was larger than the one in front of us. But the bullets, and the blue and yellow lasers blow holes in the advancing troops. We had longer range with our guns. We could kill the Soltarians before their volleys could reach us. For a land battle, the Soltarians didn’t have any protective armor. Neither did we, but we had installed an effective barricade. Their volleys whistled toward us, but like Lee’s artillery at Gettysburg, they flew over our heads and plunked into trees. Lee lost 25,000 soldiers at Gettysburg and the Soltarians didn’t have that many men. A few incredibly strong soldiers actually made it to our wooden wall before they were cut down. Seeing their attack was useless, a few turned around and ran away. But the blue and yellow laser fire wasn’t charitable. They died before they could get out of range.

  Watching the bloodshed and the carnage, I shook my head. Most were brave creatures… but fighting for a horrible cause. Fighting, for that matter, for a horrible human being.

  In ten minutes we claimed a victory. With the exception of a few stragglers, the enemy had been devastated. I told Rab and Mr. Ritter to prepare the drones. We had one more battle we had to win.

  I wondered what General Conbor thought of his one-on-one challenge now.

  I looked for the squad’s physician. When I saw him, I sighed with relief.

  “You’re not attending patients, doctor?” I said.

  “No. No wounded, sir. The battle was remarkably successful. I’m very happy not to have any patients. The medical nanos can take care of most wounds but occasionally I’m needed. I’m glad I wasn’t today,” Manning said.

  “So am I.”

  “I attribute that to our ingenious commander.”

  “Thank you, doctor, but I think I must give credit to the opposing commander. He just made a few stupid decisions.”

  “What do you plan to do about the castle, major?”

  “I’m going to pummel it to ashes. We haven’t lost a man in this engagement and I plan to keep that record intact. In about five minutes our drones will be ready. Very little will be left of the general’s last command.”

  I sighed and scratched my jaw. “Doctor, I want to ask you something. This may come out of left field, but it may also have a connection to our current situation. Back on Earth if I wanted to, say, become a brown guy from Jamaica or look like I have Asian ancestry like Cajun, I would be able to do that, correct?”

  He nodded. “Sure, our genetic-manipulation technology could make you whatever you wanted. Could change you into a little green Martian if you liked. If you did you’d be the only little green Martian in the universe since that planet is uninhabited. The technology is heavily regulated, of course, and is usually not recommended by medical experts. There is a degree of danger if there’s some type of malfunction, so professionals urge caution. Planning to make a change, major?”

  “No. I always felt I was darn near perfect just the way I am. At least that’s what Astrid tells me, but I think she might be biased.”

  “Probably.”

  “Of course I think she’s darn near perfect too. Thank you, doctor. You told me what I needed to know.”

  “This somehow relates to our battle here?”

  “Surprisingly enough, yes it does.” I glanced toward Ritter and Rab. “How long before the drones are ready?”

  “About two minute, sir. We’re fitting them with the bombs now.”

  Chapter 18

  For the devastating weapons they were, the drones didn’t look that impressive. Basically they looked like mini-jets of the mid-21st century. The larger ones were mini mid-21st century bombers. Thankfully, in this era bombs did not need to be large. They were small enough to be slipped into the bay of a drone bomber. Ritter and Rab loaded a half-dozen drones with bombs, then smiled at their handiwork.

  The optimist Alfred Nobel, when he invented dynamite, was overjoyed because, as he said, he had made war too terrible to fight and therefore had brought peace to the world. I’m not mocking him. The man was brilliant in many areas. If I recall, he won more than three hundred patents in his life. But he knew nothing about human nature and seemed impervious to the evil that men do. And the evil that other races do.

  Then again, without that situation, I’d been out of a job. Not that I would have minded unemployment… I picked up the binoculars.

  “Can the drones take off?”<
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  “Yes, sir,” Rab said. “Mr. Ritter and I are rather proud of our work. At your command, major.”

  I looked through the binoculars. About two dozen guards remained on the wall. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought they looked a bit apprehensive. But you’re not in a positive frame of mind if you just watched three of your armies wiped out.

  “Conbor, you violated one of the immutable laws of the galaxy. Don’t screw around with Ryvenbark’s Raiders. Now you face the consequences.” I turned to Rab. “Release the drones.”

  Three dark jets and three dark mini-bombers soared toward the castle. Six drones of black death against the stunning blue sky. They moved almost silently toward their target. We heard a slight hum, nothing more. In films, an attack was always accompanied by gripping music. Drums and trumpets accompanied the jets or the army. But the drones moved in silence when they were on their deadly trek. The guards on the castle’s wall jerked and pointed to the sky. An officer barked an order to his men. A minute later the Soltarians brought up what I guess was an anti-drone battery. Two lone, long barrels that spit fire. Bolts of yellow flame came from them and shot toward the dark drones. I had no worries. Our technology was better than Conbor’s. White-hot flames exploded when it hit a drone. The drone sailed into and out of the flames and headed undeterred on its deadly path. Two other yellow bolts hit drones with the same effect. The drones didn’t even slow down.

  Panicked, several Soltarian soldiers ran from the wall. Two others stood silent and just stared into space. I guessed they knew they had no place to run. When the drone hit the wall and exploded, they were tossed into the air, head over heels. When they hit the ground, they didn’t move. The drone took out half the wall.

  Other explosions blew the defenders apart as fire and smoke rose up from behind what was left of the castle’s wall. One Soltarian, staying in his post until the last second, was blown over the wall. Surprisingly he wasn’t killed. He slowly got to his feet again, then stumbled away.

  “Rab, get about six men. When it simmers down we’ll go over and check the damage. I also want to make sure the general is dead. He slipped out of our clutches the last time we saw him. He’s not going to do the same again.”

  “Yes, sir. If Conbor had on a time belt he might have gone back to the future before the drones hit,” Rab said.