Eric Flint - The Rats, the Bats and the Ugly

They all nodded vigorously, which was just as well as the sergeant at arms was already unlocking the shackles.

"The ayes have it," said Ogata. "Now, Major Fitzhugh. What do you advise?"

Fitz took control. "We need communications and assessment. We'll need drivers, and we'll need reliable observers. We need to scatter civilians and get them away from fire-zones as quickly as possible. Colonel Jones, if you would…"

Within twenty minutes they were digging in, in the park across from the courthouse. Sentries and lookouts were posted. Patrols were going out. Couriers and observers were driving set routes to establish what had happened. An aid station had been set up. And the former prisoner had the judge lying down on a blanket in the aid-station. He seemed to be in shock.

The next attack came some twenty minutes later. The missiles went straight up and out, and exploded without hitting any targets. The thousands of plastic cubes that were scattered far and wide were not directly fatal.

"We advise all humans to proceed to the Webb Fields. Your colony is under attack by Jampad. Proceed to the Webb fields for processing into our safe shelters. The Korozhet will protect you. Do not bring weapons or any metal objects as the Jampad weapons detect these. We advise all humans to proceed to Webb…"

Endlessly repeating their message, the cubes spread Korozhet poison. And a lot of sheep-minded humans did in fact start heading for the vast Webb sports complex west of the city.

Of course, a lot did not. The first helicopter up had drawn fire from the Korozhet ship. It was a tragic-if direct-way of telling anyone who looked up that the Korozhet ship was not treating human aircraft with any tolerance.

Fitz, with at least five thousand soldiers and civilians taking orders, did his best to counter the Korozhet instructions. But communications were in a shambles. Even radio was jammed. They had a few old wire-based field-telephones from the signals unit working. Everything else had to be done by courier.

Mike Capra was one of the forward observers watching Webb Fields through a pair of binoculars. He was able, later, to reassure the officers of the temporary field command that in fact Military HQ had not been a target.

A little later he was able to report in person: "There were four bus loads and about sixteen staff cars." He looked askance at Conrad Fitzhugh. "And I think I can safely assure you, Fitz, that Major Tana Gainor will not be prosecuting you again. She's quite recognizable, even through binoculars. And she was part of that crowd of top officers who pushed their way through to the front of the queue. The Pricklepusses took them away, into their ship."

"Methinks, the army just got a lot more efficient," said Ariel, contentedly.

"I was about to send a runner back when we had some more action, which I thought maybe I'd better actually come back to tell you about personally. Webb Fields have come under mortar fire. Heavy smoke. The people on the field have been scattering in panic. If it had happened ten minutes earlier, we'd have been digging generals out from under bushes."

"Did the mortars come under any tracking fire? We saw some laser-fire from here."

"Yep. It was just the three mortar rounds. Almost simultaneously. Then the lasers opened up from the ship. I don't think they were H.E. bombs. There was just a lot of heavy smoke."

"We'll have to see if we can get a cordon in place, to see if we can stop any more people going in. And we need a line laid out there. I wish to hell we could get radio comms."

Eric Flint

The Rats, the Bats amp; the Ugly

Eric Flint

The Rats, the Bats amp; the Ugly

Scenes various across George Bernard Shaw City, and inside the Korozhet ship.

"Give us another half an hour," said the pimply programmer. "That's a craphouse full of code. We got rid of the command-phrases that will extract instant obedience. But there may be other things. I think we're there but we're just checking."

"We'll do our best," said M'Batha. "But we've had missile strikes on fifteen of the jamming transmission points. We've only got another three. Pretty soon we'll have to switch off or we'll have nowhere to broadcast the virus from."

The programmer shook his head. "I think we're not going to get there."

"If we don't, we can try the chipwipe one, even if that leaves us with stripped to near useless defense against the Magh'," said Liepsich. "But I reckon there isn't a plan C."

Ginny had headed back to the university animal holding compound after they'd flushed out Talbot Cartup. Fortunately, with the stop at the police station to make her statement, and moving at golf cart speed, they'd still been en route when the Korozhet struck the slowship. Even with its new V8 engine roaring behind them, the armor panels around the cart and the weight of chrome gadgetry that Nym delighted in slowed them down. That was probably just as well, as the rat insisted on driving. Nym's grasp of-not to mention, respect for-the rules of the road approached zero from the wrong side.

That was also the side of the road he liked to drive on. A candy-striped super-powered armored golf cart, accompanied by two Humvees full of paratroopers, was enough to disrupt traffic somewhat. So far no traffic authority had tried to pull them over which, Ginny thought, just proved that you could get away with a lot if you had enough audacity and candy-stripes.

When the missiles struck the slowship, the explosions nearly had Nym drive them into a ditch in his screeching halt. The shockwave swept over them, not quite fast enough to harden slowshields. The paratroopers took up defensive positions around them, spilling out of their vehicles. Since the assassination attempt at the stadium, the paratroopers had been hyper-edgy. One of them tried the radio. All it gave him was a burst of static. All that gave Ginny was hope. Liepsich's jammers must still be working.

"We're going to have to take you back to our base," said Sergeant Jacobovitz. "That's what Colonel Van Klomp said we were to do if there was any serious trouble, ma'am. I think you'd better get into the jeep with us."

"Methinks not," said Nym firmly. "But I will let Ginny drive and use this 'overdrive.' I hath promised I would not use it, but it will engage the full and awesome power of my engine. This noble vehicle is armored. Yours are not."

Ginny had driven the golf cart many times before. She'd never had to do so at sixty miles an hour before. Fortunately, the road was a broad one. Nym's golf-cart battlewagon got to the paratrooper base with no further disasters.

Van Klomp was there, giving orders. The camp itself was cleared. The paratroopers were digging in, out in the assault course area.

"I need you to lock me up," said Ginny calmly.

Van Klomp looked like a man who had had enough surprises for today. This was one too many. "I haven't time for that legal crap, Ms. Shaw. I'll lock you up when it is all over."

"Don't be a fool, Van Klomp!" she snapped. "The Crotchets are trying to take control of our soft-cybers. If you don't lock us up, we'll kill you if the radio-jamming stops."

"Oh. Hell's teeth. Does that mean all the bats and rats on the front will be coming here?"

"If the radio-jamming stops, yes. Unless the rebellion seeds we've planted have grown. But I doubt if that'll be enough to fight such a direct order. It's also possible that Liepsich might have a counter-program, a sort of virus that will either wipe our memories or, if we're very lucky, wipe the pro-Crotchet bias. They were still working on it."

"Not much hope there," said Van Klomp grimly. "The university copped a direct hit."

"But their jammers are still on. And what else can I do?"