William Dietz - Heaven's Devils

THE TOWN OF KORSY, ON THE PLANET TURAXIS II

Vanderspool’s mind was racing. It was difficult to part with the crystals, and the imaginary lifestyle he had created for himself, but Vanderspool was a realist. As such he knew how important it was to switch gears and recover as smoothly as he could.

He needed to get to the starport before KM reinforcements could arrive—but first there were the Heaven’s Devils to deal with. Having lost a significant number of marines, he was no longer confident of his ability to take the misfits prisoner, so resocialization was out. The obvious solution was to kill them. And thanks to his foresight that would be easy.

So as Vanderspool turned away from the track and toward the troops on the platform, he brought out the special remote and pointed it at Tychus. There was only one button, and it was large enough to accommodate a massive thumb. Vanderspool pressed it and saw the indicator light glow green as all of the pre-equipped suits froze up.

That’s how it was supposed to work at any rate, except that Tychus grinned evilly and shook his head in mock sympathy. His visor was open. “What’s the problem, Colonel? Did something go wrong with your new toy?”

Vanderspool swore. Tychus knew about the kill switches! But that didn’t matter, because the colonel had a backup plan. He made eye contact with Fitz, who threw an arm around Cassidy’s chest as a corporal aimed a handgun at her face. She was wearing armor, but the pistol was only inches away, and would do the job.

Tychus, who was in the process of bringing his gauss rifle up, paused. Vanderspool smiled thinly. “So,” he said harshly. “There is honor among thieves. But, just in case you have second thoughts about how valuable Doc Cassidy is to you, take a look around.”

The Heaven’s Devils and several members of the second squad had their backs to the door and were half-ringed by marines. That meant the resocs could fire without hitting one another—and that implied that the whole thing had been planned in advance. But why? Unless Vanderspool knew about the plan …

Vanderspool saw the look on Tychus’s face and laughed. “Oh, my! If only you could see your expression right now! That’s right, Sergeant Findlay… . Petty Officer Cassidy loves crab more than she loves you!”

Tychus stood stock-still for two agonizing seconds. Then, with a roar, he brought his rifle up and fired at Cassidy. But the spike went wide as Raynor jerked his friend back toward the door and shouted, “Light ’em up, Hank!”

Harnack pulled the trigger on his igniter and swept the flamethrower from left to right. That created a wall of flames that not only prevented the marines from advancing but made it difficult to see. They fired, but not very effectively, as the Devils backed out through the door. Harnack was the last one out, but even after he was clear Tychus continued to shoot through the opening, until Raynor shouted his name. Then, firing short, controlled bursts, he backed his way out to where the vehicles were waiting.

Harnack, Kydd, and members of the second squad were in possession of the first saber. The vehicle sat on big, knobby tires, and was large enough to haul four armored soldiers, but not much more. They had a gauss cannon trained on the door to the train station and were using it to keep Vanderspool and his resocialized marines penned up inside.

Raynor was at the wheel of the second saber waiting for Tychus and several other men who were clambering in. Zander arrived and shed his badly damaged hardskin before making for the third saber. He took the wheel as Ward sat down beside him.

There was a screech of tires as Harnack took off.

Raynor was right behind him, with Tychus riding shotgun, and a ranger on the saber’s gauss cannon.

As Harnack prepared to turn right onto the street that led to the starport, a shriek sounded as a shell passed over their heads and landed to the north of them. The resulting explosion sent a column of debris surging into the air and shattered windows all around. It was Kydd who identified the nature of the threat and let the rest of them know where the shell had come from. “Kel-Morian sloths! Two of them! To the south!”

Raynor swore as he braked, skidded into the intersection, and turned his head to the left. That was when he saw two slab-sided sloths, as well as a mob of unarmored Kel-Morians sent to support them. Had the sloths been dispatched to cut them off from the starport? Yes, given where the shells were landing, that appeared to be the case.

“Go for them,” Tychus ordered grimly. “Those cannons will be useless once we get in close.”

Raynor wasn’t so sure about that, since the rippers had been sent to prevent such a move, but gunned the engine anyway and sent the saber racing forward. One of the men in back was firing the gauss cannon by that time. The weapon was useless against the sloths but extremely effective where the KM ground forces were concerned. Half a dozen of them were cut to bloody ribbons as the heavy spikes tore them apart.

“Watch your field of fire!” Tychus warned, as Harnack’s vehicle swerved in front of them and came dangerously close to being hit by the stream of deadly tracers.

Then the Devils were in close, firing every weapon they could bring to bear as knobby tires bounced over dead bodies, and Kel-Morians fell in a welter of blood.

Both sloths were equipped with secondary weapons, all of which were firing by then, but it was hard to hit the speedy sabers as they circled the slow-moving behemoths, looking for some sort of opening. But there wasn’t any to be had, and the sabers were forced to retreat as the sloths continued their inexorable advance.

Meanwhile, Ward spoke over the squad freq as Zander braked to avoid a smoking shell crater. “Stop the car and let me out… . Maybe I can stop those things.”

“Okay,” Zander agreed. “But don’t hang around to count your hits. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Or maybe I’ll be waiting for you, ” Ward countered as the saber skidded to a stop. Then, before Zander could reply, Ward was on the pavement and headed for the middle of the street.

Raynor put his saber into a tight turn, braked, and saw what Ward was preparing to do. He shouted, “No!” as the sloth fired and a shell passed within a few feet of the other man’s head.

But it was too late as Ward planted both feet, poured all of his concentration into the image on his HUD, and realized that the first sloth was shielding the second. That meant he couldn’t fire on both. But he sure as hell could put a full load of rockets into the first machine and send the crew straight to hell!

Ward’s tubes had been reloaded by that time. He braced himself and triggered all eight rockets at once, and was firing his gauss cannon when six of his projectiles hit. The leading edge of the first sloth was momentarily obscured as a series of explosions rippled across its bow. But that was where the sloth’s armor was thickest. So there was a high probability that the machine would have survived all of the impacts had it not been for a stroke of luck.

Because as Ward fired at the sloth, it fired at him. And when the projectiles collided only inches in front of the machine’s cannon, the force of the combined explosion was sufficient to blow the machine apart. A column of orange flame sent the turret straight up, a section of track flew off, and a secondary explosion sterilized the crew compartment.