The Enemy Papers Page 22

  "Yes, Major?"

  "Benbo and I are heading out to do a little recon. I want you to take charge and keep everyone together. Understand?"

  "Yes. What about those other two choices?"

  "We're going to keep fighting, but if we can walk around freely out there, it's going to make things a lot easier. Just keep everyone together until we know the score."

  Sergeant Benbo tapped Taiseido on the shoulder. "And, Mo. If any of these jokers wants to join up with the Dracs, you know what to do."

  The Lieutenant looked down as Benbo slipped a knife into his hand. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

  "Tell anybody who wants to become a Drac that it's going to require a little surgery first. And when you say it, mean it."

  Morio slipped the knife inside his jacket and nodded. "You two be careful."

  Nicole and Benbo turned and headed toward the open door. When they reached it, they stopped. To the right was a security fence, and high upon the fence's catwalk was an armed Drac guard.

  The fence separated the building from the military field. Was the guard posted there to guard the field; or was it there to fry anyone stepping through the door?

  To the left was a graveled path leading to a paved road. The bank on the other side of the road was crowded with scrub brush and twisted trees. Nicole glanced at the guard again and poked Benbo in the ribs.

  "Let's go."

  They stepped out of the door and began walking slowly toward the road. By the time they were abreast of the guard, it was facing them, leaning against the fence. Its yellow fingers toyed with a lever on its weapon.

  "Eey, kiz ve Madah."

  They stopped and the guard raised its weapon and pointed it at them. "Zoom! Zoom!" The guard laughed and lowered its weapon. "Yaa! Yaa!" It nodded its head toward the road. "Benga! Madah hasu, dutshaat! Madah hasu!"

  Benbo smiled warmly at the guard. "Kiss my ass, you piss-colored, maphrofag."

  Nicole tugged on the sergeant's arm. "Move it or lose it, Benbo."

  "Yaa. kizlode! Madah hasu! Yaa—"

  "Denvedar!"

  The guard whirled around and Benbo and Nicole looked through the fence. Standing there, glaring up at the guard, was a hefty-looking Drac soldier. The thin gold stripes slashed diagonally across its red sleeves marked it as a ninth officer—equivalent to a USEF staff sergeant.

  The Drac noncom gave that guard a ragtime that must have been cloned from the first chew-out session the Universe's first private ever received from the Universe's very first sergeant. The talk was so rapid that Nicole could only follow it in parts—several mentions of hot tongs, hand-stoking nuclear reactors, broken limbs, extra duty extending to infinity—the usual.

  Sergeant Benbo seemed to be enjoying the performance. And when the Drac noncom had finished, and the guard was again walking its post, Benbo waved at the Drac. "That's telling him, sarge."

  The Drac stared for a moment at Benbo, then spat out a single word. "Vemadah!" The Drac turned from the fence and marched away.

  Benbo watched the soldier until it disappeared into the entrance of a small structure. Then he thrust his hands into his pockets and walked toward the road, his eyes glowering at the gravel crunching beneath his boots.

  Vemadah.

  The word is the name of those living in the Madah; but it also means "coward."

  "Sergeant, what that Drac noncom said doesn't bother you, does it?"

  "Hell, no!" Benbo continued walking, his lips pursed as though there was more that he wanted to say. As they reached the road, he shook his head, glanced at Nicole, then turned to the right. "Let's find out where toadface keeps the button that blows up this shitball."

  After three hours of fast walking they had circuited the Drac military field. There had been frequent glances from the Dracs standing guard and those riding past them in silent, low-slung vehicles. The only comments came from the children; comments, rocks, and pieces of garbage. But no one stopped them.

  After walking the field's perimeter, they climbed a wooded hill to get some altitude. By the time they sat down to rest, they had both come to the same conclusion: the field at V'Butaan was little more than a way station staffed by less than two hundred Dracs.

  On the parking ramp there were four assault landers, two of which looked as though they Were under repair. There were several small transportation flyers, and no atmospheric fighters.

  Sergeant Benbo, seated on the grass with his arms wrapped around his knees, glared in the direction of the field. "Major, if we're going to bust our buns on the barricades, this place would be a waste of time."

  "And a waste of buns." Nicole stretched out on the dead leaves and looked through the trees at the blue sky. "The Drac Fleet must have a major base somewhere on the planet."

  "This sure as hell isn't it." Benbo pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the higher ground.

  As the sound of Benbo's feet moving through the underbrush faded, Nicole continued looking at the sky, watching the spade-shaped leaves of the trees moving in the gentle wind.

  It disturbed her that about the last thing she wanted to spend thought on was running around Ditaar slinging bombs around military installations. She felt as though she could have been anywhere, stretched out in the woods, inhaling the freshness of warm spring breezes, the war far, far away. At that moment Catvishnu seemed like nothing more than a bad dream.

  Nicole sat up and looked at the Drac landers on the distant parking ramp. There seemed to be something wrong with her sense of duty—or was it sense of revenge?

  The civilians who died on Catvishnu were nothing but numbers: the soldiers who died—well, that was part of the contract one made by joining the Force. There had been none of the soldiers that had been really close to her. No one had been close to her since Mallik. And the big issues were nothing but words. Did she really care about protecting the USE's mining operations upon Amadeen? No. Was she in the Force to avenge the Amadeen Front's deaths at the hands of the Drac Mavedah? She shook her head. Not really. Both the Front and the Mavedah were little more than terrorists, each serving their respective bosses by attempting to out-horror the other. She closed her eyes. "What am I doing here?"

  ...She had been on Earth, in school, aimlessly taking up space ... but before that had been Raina Ya, and Mallik.

  Mallik: fisher, lover and liver of life. They were both nineteen. In the days they owned the world; in the nights they owned the Universe.

  He would stand in the prow of his fishing skimmer, his dark brown eyes searching the blinding glare of the water for signs, and she would watch him. And he would call out to the pilot, "High a quarter to port! The greentails run!"

  As the skimmer heeled over to the left, he would rush back to help with the scoops. And he would steal a glance at her....

  ...drowned. They said that the storm came up out of nowhere. Surprised everybody. His corpse was pale and puffy from the water where it hadn't been gnawed on by the crab-worms....

  ...Both his family and hers offered to help with the baby once it came. But she left Baina Ya and traveled to Earth before the baby was born. She never saw it; never knew its sex or name. Even the idea of possessing this knowledge horrified her. She wanted no more risks; no more surprises; no more attachments.

  She went to school and filled a chair while driving everything out of her head by filling it with numbers. One year, two, then a USEF recruiting team came on campus. And what they promised was a life of absolute predictability; no surprises. So much time in, plus so much experience, education, and training equaled such-and-such a rank and assignment. While that was being done, there are all of those neat puzzles you can have to fill your hours; to fill your mind.

  And if everybody gets killed, both the killing, the killer, and the disposal of the remains will be predictable.

  It's all in the contract....

  Mallik's death had been predictable. Dozens of fishers drown every year on Raina Ya.

  Rut they had been nineteen, a
nd immortal—

  "Mallik, damn you—"

  "Irkmaan?"

  Nicole lowered her hand from her eyes and stood as she saw a Drac's face peering at her through the bushes. "Benbo?" She looked around for the sergeant, but he was gone.

  The Drac pushed the branches aside and stepped through. Its white robe was torn and filthy. It squatted several paces away, its thin arms cradled in its lap. In Drac it asked, "You are human?"

  "Yes."

  "Of the Madah?" Nicole didn't answer, and the Drac nodded its head. "The Madah. I heard the rumor of humans entering Ditaar's Madah." It studied her for a long moment.

  "Do you have any food to share?"

  "No. Why are you here?"

  "Searching for food."

  "I mean, why are you in the Madah?"

  The Drac wearily pushed itself to a standing position. "I am only looking for food; not conversation -" A frightened look came into its eyes as the sounds of someone crashing through the brush came from behind. Nicole turned just as Benbo came into view.

  "You all right, Major?"

  "So far." She turned back to the Drac. "Who are you?"

  Its yellow eyes looked down. "I am but another face."

  Sergeant Benbo walked up to the Drac. "You wouldn't fight?"

  "I would fight," it looked up at Benbo, "if fighting were talma. It is not."

  "The path? Talma to what?"

  "The path, human. Talma ..." The Drac waved a hand. "Do you have any food to share?"

  Benbo shook his head. "No."

  The Drac turned and walked into the bushes. In moments the sounds of its walking died away. Benbo rubbed his chin and frowned as he turned and faced Nicole. "I wonder how many Dracs there are wandering around here." He nodded toward the crest of the hill. "Major, I found something on the other side of the hill."

  "What?"

  "It'll be easier to show you than to explain it." He glanced back in the direction of the departing Drac. "We'd better watch it." He removed his hand from his chin and pointed uphill. "This way."

  The other side of the hill was barren. That it had once been covered with vegetation was indicated by the remains of a few blackened stumps. At the foot of the hill began the ruins of an obliterated community.

  The blackened streets and remains of walls extended for a kilometer. Parallel to their position, the damaged area looked to be six or eight kilometers long, narrow toward the right, fanning out to the left in the shape of an enormous teardrop.

  Benbo squatted and pointed. "There's only one thing I know of that makes a shape like that."

  "A USEF sonic warhead. Because of the small impact area. it was probably a fighter-mounted missile."

  "There's only one impact, Major. The pilot must have been on a for-the-hell-of-it run."

  Nicole shielded her eyes and examined the area beyond the blast. "I wonder what the pilot was trying to hit. That's one hell of a miss if he was aiming for the V'Butaan field."

  Benbo picked up a small stone and toyed with it. "I don't think the pilot missed." He stood and tossed the stone down the hill. "I think that shooter hit exactly what he was aiming at." The sergeant turned and began walking back up the hill.

  Was it possible? Had some USEF pilot gone against orders to wipe out an entire civilian community? Or had the orders excluding civilian targets changed? Perhaps this was only one of several destroyed populations. It had been done recently. And that might explain why the Drac Fleet had leveled Catvishnu's cities. Tit for tat. What had that Drac in the dirty robe said? "I would fight if fighting were talma. It is not."

  Nicole noticed the movement of two Dracs picking through the ruins. They were looking for food. Madah. She turned away and followed Benbo's trail.

  After an hour of walking. they came down the hill into a part of the Drac village that had not been destroyed. They squatted on a high bank overlooking the streets and structures.

  The homes were large, with vast expanses of lawn and woods around them. The distances between homes almost made each home look like a tiny village in itself. One of the streets led to what appeared to be a park or village common.

  Half under his breath, Benbo muttered. "This must be the high-rent district." He lifted an arm and pointed. "Look."

  She looked in the direction indicated and saw alone Drac standing in one of the streets. It wore a ragged white robe and a light blue stripe that went around its neck and looped down its back almost to the ground.

  "It isn't the same one we saw on the hill."

  "I guess it's another one of our Madah buddies, Major. Why's it standing there?" Benbo's answer came soon enough. One of the silent Drac vehicles turned a comer and moved slowly down the street. The Drac in the blue and white rags lowered its glance and held out its hands toward the moving car. The vehicle hurried past, and the Drac lowered its hands and again stood motionless in the gutter. Nicole heard the sergeant spit on the ground. "I don't think I'm going to fit very good in the Madah."

  "Sergeant, let's go down and talk to that Drac. It's about time we got an accurate reading on this Madah business."

  Benbo frowned as he studied the terrain. "I'd hate to be a Drac wandering into a human town right after some Dracon Fleet pilot had fried the hell out of the place." He looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

  "Let's go." She stood and began walking down the bank, Benbo's footsteps close behind.

  As they approached the Drac, it turned and looked at them. At first its expression was confused, then its face settled into an expression of dull-eyed resignation. Before they could speak, it spoke to them. "Do you have food to spare?"

  Nicole stopped in front of it. "We don't have food. What is your name?"

  The Drac seemed to study upon the question for a moment. Then it looked up at the treetops. "In the Madah ..." It looked at Nicole. "You may call me Shalda."

  She pointed at herself and the sergeant in turn. "Joanne Nicole and Amos Benbo."

  Shalda looked puzzled. "You carry your line-names into the Madah?"

  "Our family names? Why not?"

  "The shame of it. Dah! Something humans wouldn't understand. You speak Dracon adequately; that should help."

  Another vehicle came along and stopped next to the three. The driver stuck its yellow head out of the window, giving Benbo and Nicole only a passing glance. "Chova, vemadai! You may beg here, but do not hold conventions! Move off! Chova!"

  The driver waited until all three turned and walked toward the hill. When they had walked a few paces, they heard the car hiss away. Shalda continued toward the hill.

  Nicole looked at the Drac's face.

  "If it is so shameful, Shalda, why are you here?"

  "I have nowhere else to go. The Madah is now my land."

  Benbo walked faster and pulled up on the Drac's other side. "We met a Drac on the hill. It said that war isn't 'talma.' What did it mean ?"

  Shalda stopped and closed its eyes. "It is talma, human."

  "The other Drac said it wasn't. What is 'talma'?"

  They both looked at the Drac as Shalda appeared to struggle with something inside itself. "Talma." It lifted a hand and touched the thick blue stripe that looped its neck. "Did this other vemadah wear a blue mark such as this?"

  Nicole shook her head. "No. Its robe was plain white."

  Shalda's hand tightened around the fold of its robe containing the blue stripe. "This, humans, is the mark of Jetah ve Talman. I am a Master of the Talman, master of paths. The one you describe must be very young, as well as very ignorant. To follow talma, one must follow the war against the United States of Earth. I have constructed the diagrams myself." Shalda released its robe and held the same hand out, first toward Benbo, then toward Nicole. "Are you males or females? Except for pictures, I have never seen humans before."

  "Benbo is male; I am female."

  Shalda studied them, each in turn, then shook its head. "I suppose there is a purpose in it." It held its hand out toward the hill. "I must hurry. There is food to find befor
e the night comes."

  Benbo grabbed the Drac's arm. "If you think the war is right, why are you in the Madah?"

  Shalda pulled its arm from the sergeant's grasp. "It is none of your concern." Which answered the question. The Drac turned and walked toward the hill.

  "Hoorah for Johnny Zero." Benbo turned toward Nicole. "Funny thing; I never thought of the Dracs having cowards."

  She studied the sergeant's face. The wall of anger and contempt he hid behind enabled him to function when others crouched in their holes, paralyzed with terror. That and his fear of being called a coward—thinking himself to be a coward.

  There was Colonel Nkruma eating pronide capsules in the name of duty; a duty that was so much easier for him than facing humiliation. Nicole studied herself. She could keep fighting when everything in her head was screaming because on some lower level she was simply following her own rules. My precious, predictable rules. And I fear losing those regulatory reference points to reality more than I fear the Dracs.

  "There are all kinds of cowards, Sergeant. It's only the honest ones that have to carry the name."

  Nicole glanced after the departing Drac, then turned to see Sergeant Benbo looking up at the sky. He pointed a finger. "Major! Major! It's a raid! Hell, but it's the Force!"

  Nicole looked up, and after a second or two, she could make out the black spots of a USEF fighter squadron in formation—no, a full fighter-bomber wing! It seemed as though she was rooted in that street for hours—but only a second could have elapsed. Then those specks were on top of them. Benbo leaped, hit Nicole in the stomach, and sent her gasping to the ground.

  In the next few moments, the world of Ditaar went up in heat and flame.

  The forces of the sound explosions picked her up, shook her, and tossed her back to the ground. Slightly above the thunder of the blasts and howls of flying shrapnel, she heard Benbo screaming a curse. As repeated concussions numbed her mind and body. for an instant she saw Mallik's face.

  Then there was nothing.

  FOUR

  Tocchah walked toward the fires of its people, the footsteps of the enemy warriors close behind. Tocchah looked up to the night sky, praying silently: Aakva, Parent of All, strike this Uhe and its army down! Strike them down in flame and thunder!