Taylor Anderson - Maelstrom

As promised, Adar had taken Selass ashore, but he hadn’t gone much beyond it himself. Now he paced behind the wall with Chack’s sister, Risa, at his side, calling encouragement to Big Sal ’s warriors, who defended this section. They were heavily engaged. A single Grik warrior either vaulted or was launched entirely over the top of the wall and the warriors behind it. It landed nearby with a crunching thud, and, wild eyed and slathering, it tried to rise to its feet. At least one of its legs was broken. Risa quickly dispatched it with a meaty chunk of her axe, and Adar looked at her appreciatively. “Well-done,” he said. “You made that look quite simple.”

“It was,” she answered d/font›

“Even so. I expect you’ve had much practice in war of late.”

Risa shook her head. “Not much, really, since the fight for Salissa. I was on her during the battle before Aryaal. We were late to the fight.”

Adar remembered. “Late perhaps, but instrumental. Both you and your brother have much honor due you.”

Risa blinked, and with a wry grin she shook her head. “You knew, before this all began, that Chack did not even like to fight? He was afraid of injuring someone.”

“I knew,” Adar confirmed. “Your mother was perplexed, but proud of his restraint. She was always utterly without fear,” he recalled fondly. “Where is she now?”

Risa gestured toward Big Sal, invisible through the choking clouds of smoke, except for the stabbing, orange flashes of her broadsides. “Home. She wouldn’t leave. She only ever wanted to be a wing runner; now she is a warrior as well.”

“We are all of us warriors now, I fear. Even your peaceful brother.”

“Even you, Lord Priest?” Risa asked.

“Even I,” he confirmed. “Even I have the battle lust upon me, if not the skill or training in war the smallest youngling has received. I yearn to do as you just did-slay the enemy that threatens my people, our way of life, our very existence as a species.” He looked at his hands, held out before him. “I do not have the skill for that, and after what I saw… once… it’s frustrating. In a way I envy your brother. The skill I now crave came so easily to him, he never even knew it was there. I understand why the B’mbaadan queen thinks so highly of him. Hers have ever been a warlike people, and must recognize the talent”-he blinked dismay-“the gift for war when they see it.”

He straightened. “I’ve learned much, however, about how battles are shaped. Major Shinya and the others have taught me that.”

“How is this battle taking shape?” Risa asked, and Adar sighed.

“Very much as planned, I’m afraid.”

Risa was confused. “But that is good, surely?”

Adar shook his head. “I believe the single greatest lesson in war we’ve learned from the Amer-i-caans is to hope for the best, but plan for the worst. Hope is necessary; without it you’re defeated before you even begin. But you must plan for the worst, so if it happens you will be prepared.” He blinked at her. “I fear this battle is going almost exactly as planned.”

A roar came from beyond the wall, and a new flurry of bolts rained down beyond them. Warriors tumbled from their posts, and Risa hurried to fill a gap.

“I have no objection,” she shouted over her shoulder, “as long as the plan was for victory!”

Perry Brister gulped water from an offered gourd. It soothed the pain in his throat a lwould restore his destroyed voice. Shinya and Rolak also drank as the gourd was passed to them. They gasped their thanks to the youngling who brought it. It had been dark for some hours, but with the fires burning in every direction they could see surprisingly well. Before them now, the coastal plain and the gap were almost deserted. A short while earlier Grik horns had sounded again, from the direction of the city, and as if it had been a dog whistle from hell, the Grik before the fort turned as one and practically fled in the direction of the sound. Across the gap and up through the road cut streamed the Grik as fast as they could, toward Baalkpan. None remained behind to even watch their trapped prey, except the wounded and the dead.

Thousands of Grik bodies lay heaped to the wall, and the three thousand mixed troops occupying the fort had been reduced by nearly a third. Yet they’d held. Now they could begin to prepare for what Brister had been planning ever since he silenced the guns.

“How did you know they would leave?” Shinya finally asked.

“I didn’t,” Brister rasped. “I thought we’d have to fight through them. Those horn calls must have been a summons for all their reserves. They have to be gearing up for their final push.”

They saw nothing of the city besides the flickering light of the fires, and the smoke was so dense they could hardly breathe. Cannon fire still thundered defiantly, however, and bright flashes lit the smoke-foggy sky to the north.

“I suggest we let the troops rest a couple hours, if we can,” Brister gasped. “Then we’ll form them up.”

“I certainly hope you know what you’re doing,” said Lord Rolak.

Perry shrugged. “Hey, this stunt is mainly based on what you guys told me-and Bradford’s cockeyed notions. I have no idea if it’ll work. Maybe we’ll at least create a diversion.”

“It will be better than dying here,” Shinya agreed, “trapped and cut off. You were right to silence the guns. There was nothing more they could contribute.” He paused. “I apologize.”

Brister waved it away. “Nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I called you a Jap bastard.”

Shinya chuckled. “I called you worse. In Japanese.”

A runner approached. “Sirs,” he said breathlessly, “the iron ship of the enemy is passing into the bay. More Grik ships are leading it in.”

They looked to the west. Even in the darkness they saw the black, pagodalike superstructure of Amagi silhouetted against the sky. Smoke laced with sparks swirled from her stack, and small shapes moved behind the railings as she steamed relentlessly into the bay. It was a terrifyingly vulnerable moment. The ship was absolutely enormous, and in spite of her litany of imperfectly repaired wounds, she radiated an overwhelming, malevolent power. At this range her main guns were little threat to the fort, but the numerous secondaries and antiaircraft armaments certainly were. In the light of the many fires, the occupants of Fort Atkinson had to be visible. Surely they see us, Brister thought.

If theyiv›y past the troublesome fort guarding the mouth of the bay. The Uul that landed on the southern coast seemed to have fared somewhat better.

Tsalka nodded. “At last, perhaps we will gain some advantage for having tolerated those insufferable creatures,” he said, meaning the Japanese.

“Kurokawa’s plan seems to be working, Lord Regent,” Esshk agreed. “His insistence on multiple attacks is contrary to doctrine, and at first glance seems to fly in the face of the very principle of the Swarm-yet never have we been able to utilize so much of our force at once. Many of our Uul have been slain-an unprecedented number, I fear-yet we have certainly ‘softened up’ the prey in preparation for his mighty ship to enter the bay. He did also put a stop to the slaughter of our ships by the guns in the fort. I am inclined to consider it a brilliant tactic.”

“His ‘tactics’ are indeed effective. Wasteful of Uul, but effective,” Tsalka agreed.

“The destruction of the fort of the prey was impressive, and accomplished at such a distance so… effortlessly… We would have to watch these new hunters, even if they were not so disagreeable.”

“Their power is great”-Esshk nodded-“but so is the power of the prey.” He hesitated, then mused aloud, “Worthy prey after all.” He glanced at the regent consort. “Perhaps we should have made the Offer? Never has any Swarm been mauled so. I fear, no matter how this battle turns, even this Invincible Swarm will remain but an empty shell.”