*
After Sharpie and Jas slid in behind the rock Dahms looked at the Captain and asked, "You and her?"
"Yes," he answered. "We're planning to get married in a couple of months."
"An unfortunate play of fate. I'm sorry you got pulled into this."
"Don't be sorry," he said. "Everette was right, when he said, ‘we're all in this together.’"
Dahms was silent. In a few moments they would be in combat, and people were going to be killed.
Dahms and Curt were watching through their Distance Magnifiers as all the patrollers, standing in the shadows, walked over to the two remaining PC's.
"They're coming over to our side," she said, and then she started to say, "I'm sure there will be a lot more," but stopped in mid sentence when two PC's came around the corner three blocks to the right with at least twenty patrollers following from the rear. They started firing at their old friends, newly turned foe. Once again red phasor bolts lit up the dawn.
Being caught by surprise, three of the foot patrollers went down either dead or wounded. One of the PC's near the entrance was hit in the rear and catapulted thirty yards down the street, and when it turned to face the attack it was hit again, but this time in the motor compartment. Blue sparks went flying from the antigrav motor and the craft nose-dived into the pavement. Two men shoved the doors open, jumped out of the PC and headed for cover as the craft burst into flame.
The remaining PC, near the entrance, turned and quickly fired two shots hitting the bull's-eye with both. The attacking PC's went down in flames, but the foot patrollers from behind continued to fire their phasors. The battle became more heated as the bright red phasor bolts kept racing from one side to the other.
As Dahms watched the exchange of phasor fire she said, "Let's give 'em support. Start the attack."
The Captain-of-the-Guard and Everette stepped in front of the soldiers and yelled, "Attaaaaack!" And started running toward the gaping hole in the hemi-dome.
Twelve hundred noisy men and women, yielding their weapons, were quick to follow rushing toward the big hole in the dome—the prison guards in their bright colored uniforms were yelling with fervor as they ran, and the mountain men, dressed in brown mountain leathers, were roaring the rebel yell. All in all it sounded like thunder breaking over the countryside.
Sharpie and Jas jumped up and joined the running rebels.
The phasor fire, inside the hemidome stopped as the patrollers on both sides heard the noise and turned to watch the attack.
Hurd's loyal patrollers stopped their advance and watched. Finally, deciding they were outnumbered they made a hasty retreat around the corner of the nearest building and disappeared from sight.
After reaching the main gate, most of the men and women of Dahms' army spread out behind the buildings and waited for further orders.
There were three mountain men, however, who ran through the opening, then turned right and charged after the retreating enemy. The frenzied excitement of the charge kept them going, and they were still yelling when they charged into the first intersection and were shot down.
Only one of them was able to escape. A phasor bolt hit him in the leg, taking some flesh and muscle out of his calf. He fell in pain and half stunned, but after a moment he was able to pull himself up, and he quickly hobbled to a recessed doorway in one of the apartment buildings—where he waited. His two comrades lie dead in the middle of the intersection.
"Damn," said Dahms. She motioned to the nearest non-com. "Take two men and bring him back for medical attention." She pointed toward the wounded mountain man.
The driver of the one remaining patrol craft shut off the antigrav motors and set it on the pavement. The two doors opened and the two men got out.
The driver of the craft looked around and then yelled out, "who's in charge, here?"
Dahms stepped forward. "I am," she said.
The driver and the other man walked over to her. "I'm Sergeant Critton and this is my partner First Class Lowndow." He stuck out his hand.
"My name is Dahms Rassiter," she said as she shook his hand.
Critton said, "I just got off the radio—the open patroller band, and there’s another twenty craft coming to join us. That leaves thirty, but I suspect most of them will remain neutral—waiting to see what's going to happen. I, and the rest who are coming, place ourselves under your command and await your orders."
Just then three more craft turned the corner and cruised up a side street toward the rebels.
Dahms watched for a moment, then asked. "Sergeant Critton, are they friendly?"
"Yes sir."
"Good," she said, and then she turned to the Captain. "I want you and Lieutenant Sharpie to stay with me. Send two of your other Lieutenants with a hundred soldiers up each street parallel to Main Street, and send two craft with each group. Sergeant Critton will be in charge of the craft."
The Captain called his Lieutenants over and started giving them instructions.
The three PC’s stopped behind Critton’s PC and waited.
Critton seemed fidgety. He said, "Even with some of Hurd’s men and PC’s defecting to your side it isn't going to be easy."
"I agree," said Dahms. "There's no doubt that too many men and women are going to lose their lives today, nevertheless we have enough men in the underground to take a city three times the size of Newusa." She paused, and then said gravely, "Nothing’s going to stop us."
Just then, as if to contradict her last statement, three PC's came charging around the corner at the far end of the street. One of them had a missile cannon mounted on top.
"What the hell," yelled Curt. "Why didn't you warn us about the missile cannons?"
Sharpie grabbed Curt’s arm, and they bolted around the corner with Dahms and Everette hot on their heels. The rest of the men ran for cover just as the three PC's opened fire.
Dahms had never seen these PC’s. They had rapid-fire lasers—like a machine gun, but far more damaging. The phasor bolts tore into the fleeing groups of men. A missile landed in the middle of the nearest group and sixteen men went down—most of them dead. There were at least forty men down, dead or dying before they were able to clear the street. They ran in all directions away from the PC's, many of them down the side streets, some into the shrubbery and behind trees, which lined the pavement, and some into recessed doorways.
Critton and Lowndow ran for their PC. They jumped through the open doors and into their seats. Slamming the doors shut they whirled to meet the charging enemy. The three PC’s that had joined the ranks of the rebels came out from behind Critton’s PC. And together they opened fire. One of Critton's shots was true and the PC to the right crashed into the pavement and went up in flames. Critton made a tactical swerve with his PC and just in time as a phasor bolt tore along the side where Lowndow was sitting. They got off another shot, and then the enemy fired the missile cannon. The two PC’s next to Critton’s went up in flame.
Dahms was standing at the corner watching Critton maneuver his PC to keep from getting hit. But the phasor bolts were coming too fast. The fire power was too much for them, so the two remaining PC’s veered around the corner and flew a short distance down Main Street where they turned and waited.
Their heroics saved the lives of many of the men. The charging PC's had to come to a halt and concentrate their efforts on Critton and the other three PC’s, which gave the men time to escape.
"I didn't know about them," returned Dahms. “I told you he is cunning.”
"Yeah,” agreed Everette. “Hurd's a devious bastard. He's obviously been keeping them hidden in case of a revolution."
"I don’t like it," said Dahms, "And I don’t mean the PC’s. Now I’m wondering what else he's got."
She stuck her head around the corner. The two PC's were firing at the men in the shrubbery and at the men in the recessed doorways. Dahms yelled out, "Lt. Fallon, have the laser cannon brought up here and send fifty men down a parallel
street so they can come in from behind."
The two man laser cannon was set up around the corner and just out of sight of Hurd's PC's. Dahms patted the triggerman on the head, and he and his helper stepped around the corner and got off a shot, but it went wide of the target and hit a tree next to the dome exploding it into a thousand burning pieces. The trigger man and his helper jumped back just as the PC's turned and started rapid fire with the laser cannon. It wouldn’t be possible to get off another shot.
Critton synchronized his own attack. He and the other PC decided to get back in the action. They cruised down the street and came around the corner in full view—both in close. They each got off two shots and then quickly moved back up the street. All the shots missed, but it kept Hurd's PC's at bay.
Dahm’s radioman, Jas, came running up. "It's comboy two," he said.
Dahms grabbed the mike. "Go ahead comboy two." She could hear a commotion in the background.
The lieutenant started talking rapidly. "There's a huge mob of angry people," he yelled. "At least two or three hundred and armed to the teeth. We had to convince them we were part of the revolutionary force before they would stop shooting at us. They've gone on down the block and should be coming upon Hurd's PC's any minute now."
"Okay," said Dahms, "follow behind at a safe distance. Over and out." She jammed the mike back in the pocket of the backpack.
“There’s an unruly mob coming down the street behind those PC’s.” Dahms stuck her head around the corner. "Damn, here they come," she said with an incredulous voice. She edged herself into the street so she could see what was about to become a slaughter. She watched as the men in the PC's saw the mob coming and turned their craft around and opened fire. The men and women leading the mob saw the PC’s and tried to turn back, but the force of the mob behind them was too great, and they were pushed into the line of fire. It became a gruesome sight. The mob kept coming and the people were being cut down like Borsian Pigs in a slaughterhouse. The men and women started climbing over the corpses and kept on coming, firing their phasors, swearing in angry voices and shaking their fists at Hurd’s patrollers. Finally, some of the men and women on the edges of the mob fanned out and took true aim hitting one of the PC’s in the engine compartment. The men in the other one had had enough. They turned and were about to flee when another phasor bolt tore through their engine compartment and brought them down in flames.
The mob, in a heightened state of anger, reached the PC's, burned holes through the locks with their phasors, yanked the doors open and pulled Hurd's men from their seats slamming them to the ground. What happened next wasn't pretty. Dahms could only imagine as the mob swarmed over the men kicking them, pounding them, and hitting them with the butts of their rifles.
Dahms motioned the comboy over. She pulled out the mike and turned on the voice amplifier. "You men down there," she said as she stepped into full view. Her voice boomed down the street. "My name is Dahms Rassiter, and I am second-in-command of the revolutionary forces. We're coming down, so hold your fire."
The mob lost interest in their task at hand and started cheering, dancing around, and firing their weapons into the air.
"I thought your forces were organized," said Sharpie as the four of them hurried down the street."
"So did I," replied Dahms. "Which one of you is in charge?" she yelled out.
The mob stopped dancing around and one of the men came forward. "I think he's at the bottom of that pile," he said pointing at the dead or injured people.
"In that case," said Dahms, "I'm putting you in charge. Have your men go through that mound of people, find out who's still alive, and get them some medical attention. After that leave ten men, one with a comboy, to secure this intersection and then bring the remainder to Main Street." She turned to Curt. "Get Critton and have him mount this missile cannon on his PC. It's going to make life easier when we encounter more of these PC’s."
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Curt. He left in a run.
Dahms, Sharpie, and Everette started toward Main Street.
The lieutenant with his fifty men came around the corner. He ran to catch up with Dahms. "More rebels are coming. Looks like four or five hundred strong, but this time they're organized. They're actually in formation by rank."
Dahms was quick to say, "Lieutenant, take your fifty men and one of the rapid fire PC's, meet and join forces with the rebels. Tell them I have put you in charge, then skirt the hemi dome until you get to the northern gates. Start your march from there, securing each intersection as you go. Move it!”
Her gaze jumped to the mountain man. "Everette, take half your men and go the other direction. Secure the intersections as you go. Once you get to the southern gates, march toward the center of town. We'll meet you there."
"Will that be enough men?" asked the lieutenant.
"Trust me when I say there'll be more revolutionaries joining up with you."
"Yes, ma’am." He and Everette started off in different directions.
Curt joined Dahms and Sharpie as they started their march down Main Street. The next three intersections, as they advanced toward the center of town, were taken easily. Hurd's patrollers offered little resistance as they dropped back rapidly. More of the rapid fire PC's showed up and there was, from time to time, some exchange of fire, but seeing the overwhelming size of the revolutionary army, this gunplay didn't last long. The ranks of the rebel army had swollen considerably as the word of the attack had spread, and the men and women of the underground appeared from their apartments or from their places of employment. They carried weapons, mostly phasors and stunners, which they had hidden away, waiting for the war to begin.
But it didn’t stop with them. More and more people, not part of the underground, were amassing. They came from the stores, the factories, the government buildings, and the apartments—all sorts of people, young and old, big and small, men and women. Dahms was amazed by the civilians joining the ranks. Those with no combat experience and no weapons were ready to battle for their freedom from poverty and frustration, caused by poor living conditions and semi starvation. They thronged the streets yelling and cursing Hurd’s name.
Somewhere in the rebel crowd Dahms saw an old lady carrying a broom. If not for the scent tower, this government would have been overthrown long ago, thought Dahms.
There were so many people Dahms had to use some of her military force to keep them from running to Government Square. She didn’t want another slaughter. She had her lieutenants give the people orders to hold the intersections. This would give them something to do, making them feel they were contributing to the cause.
Dahms, Sharpie, and Curt, with their soldiers behind and their scouts out front, continued their march toward the center of town. The next two intersections were taken with no conflict.
“It’s too easy,” said Dahms to Sharpie and Curt. "Hurd must be planning to make a stand at the tower with the rapid fire PC's fortifying his position until the scents can do their job.”
She peered around the corner of the fourth intersection, and seeing that Hurd’s men were no longer present she signaled her men to cross. The scouts had already moved ahead three more intersections and had reported that all was clear.
A hundred men crossed the intersection, then came Dahms and Curt with Sharpie following behind talking on the comboy to the scouts.
Suddenly a red flash lit up one of the apartment windows down the block to the right, and the next instant Curt, the Captain of the Guard, went down with a thud as he hit the pavement. A phasor bolt had ripped through the right side of his chest and out the left side of his back.
"Damn," swore Dahms, “sniper fire.” And then she yelled, "get a med up here, quick!"
As the intersection cleared, with rebels scattering in all directions, Sharpie bent over her Captain. There was a gaping hole in his chest. “What have you done?” she said in stricken grief.” She sat next to him and gently cradled his head in her lap. She rocked back
and forth as she looked on in horror.
Suddenly another red flash and a phasor bolt just missed the top of Sharpie's head.
This time Dahms, peering around a corner, saw where it came from. She yelled at a group of men hiding in the walkway of an apartment building. "Second building on the left—five floors up and third window to the right—start firing."
The men quickly moved into position, aimed their rifles, and started pumping the window with phasor bolts.
Dahms pointed at another group of men. "Get him out of the intersection," she ordered.
The men ran out, lifted the Captain, and moved him to safety—close to where Dahms was standing. Sharpie followed, still in a state of shock.
Curt was lying on his back with his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open, when the med bent over with an instrument to examine his life functions. He looked up at Dahms and shook his head. "Nothing can be done," he said as he stood up.
Dahms, with great concern written all over her face, looked at Sharpie, then averted her eyes, put an arm around Sharpie’s shoulders, and looked down the block at the apartment where the sniper fire had originated. "You don't know how sorry I am," she said in a tone of grief. "Hurd and his corrupt government are going to bring sorrow to a lot of us today."
"It doesn't matter," replied Sharpie with an angry tone. She shrugged Dahms' arm off her shoulder and wiped away the tears. "I will never forgive him." She threw back her shoulders. "Let's get on with it," she said as if nothing had happened.
Dahms swore under her breath and then called forth a noncom, carrying a Seek. She pointed at the apartment. "Put it right through the window," she said.
The soldier pointed the small metal tube in the general direction, looked through the scope, adjusted his aim, and pulled the trigger. An instant later, a flash and then a tremendous explosion emerged from the window with a bright fire licking out of the building and lighting up the sky. As the dust, debris, and smoke cleared, there was a large black hole where the window had been a moment before.
"He was probably no longer in there," said Sharpie.
"Probably not," said Dahms. "But he's still in the building." She called a Lieutenant over. "Take some men to guard each exit. And then do a floor by floor search until you find him." And then she added with a low angry voice, "Take no prisoners."
She turned to Lieutenant Bradow. "Have one of your Sergeants keep ten men to secure this intersection. The rest of us are moving ahead."
The next thirty-seven intersections were taken with little resistance as Hurd’s men continued to drop back. Finally they came to the intersection of Main and Tower Avenue. Dahms stepped out from behind the department store building and looked to the left, down Tower Avenue where she could see the last of Hurd's men scurrying from Government Square through the large double doorway and into the Tower Building. There were approximately thirty PC's with missile cannons and rapid-fire phasor guns hovering three feet off the ground guarding the entrance.
Just then Everette and his men stopped on the opposite side of the square. Everette peered around the corner at the PC's guarding the entrance to the tower and waited for further orders.
In spite of Curt’s previous optimism, Dahms still had a bad feeling. As she looked at the tower where the PC’s were waiting, she was afraid to look up, but finally she steeled herself hoping to see the top of the tower disintegrated. "Oh my God," she blurted out.
Sharpie followed her gaze.
Lieutenant Bradow stepped beside her and also looked up.
"It's still intact," said Dahms almost in a state of shock. "And where the hell is the destroyer?"
Sharpie and Lieutenant Bradow remained silent.
"Do you see it?" she asked frantically.
"No," said Sharpie. But this single word became stuck in her throat as she watched the top of the tower. She grabbed Dahms’ arm. "Look," she said in horror.
But Dahms had already seen it. The doors at the top of the tower opened and a scent was hurtled into space. It plummeted toward the rebels with great speed, while scenting the blood it was programmed to spill.
Chapter Sixty-Four