[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"Emergency Network.
The Torrey estate is under attack."
The screen showed a man in combat armor thrown on over indoor clothes. Tall,
with rather long brown hair and a flamboyant mustache, in his thirties.
"Alan, this is General Barton."
"Barton. Alan Torrey here," he said; he spoke with the accent of an American
of the taxpayer class. "I'm definitely under attack, by a company or better.
Page 110
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
They overran the RSMP post up at the Velysen place, then hit here. We stopped
them butt-cold."
A grim smile; Barton decided that he rather liked
Citizen Alan Torrey.
"All my people are armed, I won't employ anyone I
can't trust. That gives us nearly a hundred guns, and we've been preparing for
this. The problem is the
Militia reaction-force from Danniels Mill; they came running, and hit an
ambush about four kilometers south of here. Had to fight their way off the
road and onto a hill; they've taken better than fifty casualties, and they
need help bad. I can't do it, we're holding in our bunkers but if we come out
their mortars will slaughter us."
192 Jerry Poumelle ^ S.M. Stirling
A man burst through the door of the operations control center. He was hastily
buckling on armor.
"General alert, Karen. General, we're sure glad you're here."
"My husband and partner," Karen said.
"Karl Olafson, general co-manager and Major of the 22nd Brotherhood, for my
sins. Alan, can you give me a relay?"
"Here."
This time the screen split. "Captain Solarez here, Major Timmins is down." The
new figure was crouched in a shallow hole behind a rock, with a wounded
communications tech lying beside him and operating the pickup. Small-arms and
explosions sounded from the background.
"Report, Captain," the militia Major said.
"I've got thirty dead, sixty wounded and three hundred effectives, that counts
the walking wounded. We had to leave most of our heavy weap-
ons with the transport. The enemy have us under visual observation and they're
sending us heavy fire, medium mortars, 84 and 105mm recoilless rifles, heavy
machine guns. Nothing fancy but they've got plenty of it. We've beaten off one
attack already, in company strength."
file:///F|/rah/Jerry%20Pournelle/Pournelle,%2...0M.%20-%20The%20Prince%20of%20
Sparta%20UC.txt (141 of 286) [5/21/03 11:09:03 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Jerry%20Pournelle/Pournelle,%20Jerry%20%20+%20Stirling,%20S.%20
M.%20-%20The%20Prince%20of%20Sparta%20UC.txt
A map of the militia position came up; squares indicated possible enemy
dispositions. The
Brotherhood fighters held a dome-shaped rise, as high as anything in the
vicinity; the road wound past it.
following the low ground up from the shores of the lake. The gap into the
sedimentary basin that held the
Torrey estate was still two kilometers north and west, but the picture-pickup
showed columns of smoke from that direction.
"Major, I can hold here but not forever," the captain went on. "We've no water
except the canteens, very
PRINCE OF SPARTA 193
little in die way of other supplies, and I'm taking steady losses. Either
someone tries to pull us out, or we'll have to fight our way through to the
Torrey's. This is obviously bigger than we thought."
"Hold," Karl Olafson said. "We'll come get you."
Ace Barton spoke. "What do you have on hand, Major?" he asked.
"Our security battalion, Brigadier," the miner replied. 'There's another
Brotherhood reaction-force battalion here, mobilizing now, I'll leave those.
We've got a little surprise, a six-gun battery of 155mm gun-howitzers, just up
from thevon Alderheim plant in
Olynthos. And plenty of trucks, we'll take the mine vehicles. Pick up more
infantry at the rally-point at
Danniels Mill, and mounted scouts to cover our flanks."
Page 111
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Barton picked his words with care; interfering in the local chain of command
was not something to be done lightly. 'This isn't going to be anything you can
handle," he said. 'They're risking too much for just a raid. They've got
something much bigger in mind. The mine itself, for a guess. You go out there
and they'll ambush you just like they did the original relief force."
Major Olafson nodded. "We'll be careful. And counting the second-line people
and the perimeter guardposts, that still leaves the equivalent of a com-
plete rifle-regiment here. It's a chance, sir," he said.
"But one we've got to take."
Barton signed agreement; that instant concern was a weakness of these
friends-and-neighbors militia out-
fits, as well as a strength.
"Hell," the militia officer went on, "with nearly a thousand men and
artillery, I don't think we'll have much trouble chewing up anything they send
at us."
Barton had been writing on a pad of engineering paper. He handed that to
Olafson. DONT REPLY TO
194 Jerry Pournelle 6- S.M. Stirling
THIS. THIS ROOM IS BUGGED. GO FIND MAJOR
file:///F|/rah/Jerry%20Pournelle/Pournelle,%2...0M.%20-%20The%20Prince%20of%20
Sparta%20UC.txt (142 of 286) [5/21/03 11:09:03 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Jerry%20Pournelle/Pournelle,%20Jerry%20%20+%20Stirling,%20S.%20
M.%20-%20The%20Prince%20of%20Sparta%20UC.txt
HONISTU AND PAY ATTENTION TO HIM "I expect you're right," Barton said aloud.
He tapped the paper again. "Not much can happen to a force that size.
Godspeed, then. Who'll hold operational command here?"
"I was hoping you would, sir."
"Right." Barton wrote quickly VITAL YOU SEE
HONISTU. He watched Olafson leave and turned back to the console. Bad luck.
Not enough time to make a real plan. I've got a bad feeling about this one.
^ " ^
>
"Good," Sidda murmured to herself.
Her face-shield was showing the input from a pickup three kilometers south. An
armored car led out the gate between two pillboxes, trailed by a huge boxy
mine-clearing vehicle. Trucks followed it, 6x6 models crowded with infantry in
mottled-white winter camouflage and Nemourlon armor; they towed heavy mortars
or two-wheel carts with ammunition and supplies. A string of them, and then
two of the big ore trucks. Those pulled cannon, medium jobs with the long
barrels turned and clamped over the trails, riding on four-wheeled carriages.
More trucks...
She turned to the Meijians clustered around their equipment. 'This had better
work," she grated.
One of them looked up and bowed slightly. "We are downloading into the enemy
mainframe even now, Field Prime," he said politely. "There will be too little
time for the enemy to react."
As was explained before, went unspoken. The
Legion techs were doing random sweeps of the more vital Royal Army machines,
of which the Stora Mine was one. No way to leave the pirate taps in for any
length of time.
She grunted assent and turned to a display table
PRINCE OF SPARTA 195
showing an overview of the mine and town. Too much here depended on the
Meijians; too much on the
NCLF"s secret apparat. Neither the technoninjas nor
Croser's people had ever failed her seriously before...
but this was the first time so large a Helot force had depended on them so
totally.
And we not just fighing the hicks. Barton. Barton suspected something. What
Page 112
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
was he doing here? How much could he know? She tried to remember what she'd
been told about Brigadier Barton. Older than
Owensford but subordinate, could something be made of that? Bad sign he here.
Shouldn't be here. Not now, not when things critical.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]