Death or Glory, page 16
‘None whatsoever,’ he said. ‘No one’s keen to find out if you were bluffing about leaving any troublemakers behind.’
‘I wasn’t,’ I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to prove the point. ‘We can’t afford to be fighting among ourselves.’ I took another sip of the lukewarm fluid, trying to ignore the faintly metallic aftertaste. ‘Which reminds me, what did you do about Demara and Tamworth after I left?’
‘The worst thing I could think of,’ he replied, with a hint of amusement. ‘I paired them off, assigned him as loader for her autocannon.’
‘That was resourceful,’ I conceded. If the members of a heavy weapon team weren’t physically joined at the hip they might just as well be.
The young trooper nodded again. ‘Now they’ll have to get along. Both their lives depend on it once we get into combat.’ He shrugged. ‘And in case they’re still under the impression that they’ve got off lightly, they’re standing double watches every night from now until the stars freeze over. Together.’
‘Whoever assigned you to comms wasn’t doing their job,’ I told him. ‘Looks to me like you’re a sergeant just waiting to happen.’
To my surprise he laughed. ‘Too much like hard work,’ he said.
Feeling obscurely cheered by the conversation, I headed off through the makeshift camp, trying not to think too much about the following day. It wasn’t all good news: two of Ariott’s patients had died during the day, the rigours of the journey proving too much for them, and I found myself wondering how much that would stretch our reserves of food and water. Hardly at all, unfortunately. I checked in with Tayber, confirming the positions of our sentries, and swung the amplivisor around to make sure they were all where they were supposed to be.
To my relief, I was able to discern their faint shapes against the lighter darkness of the star speckled sky, so at least the orks weren’t sneaking up on us under cover of night (not that that seemed like their style in any case). Tamworth and Demara were sitting on a sand dune in sullen silence, their backs to one another, but making no move to renew hostilities, so Grenbow’s unorthodox solution seemed to be working.
Last of all, I went to find Kolfax, who was still in the depths of the bothy, the faint glow of a low powered luminator filling the space around him. He glanced up as I entered, and went back to prising a ventilator grille off the wall.
‘Commissar,’ he said, swinging the sheet of perforated metal to the floor. He reached into the cavity behind it and removed something. ‘Ah, thought it might still be here.’
‘What might?’ I asked. By way of reply he uncorked a bottle and took a swig from it with a sigh of satisfaction. The sweet smell of cheap, mass-produced amasec rolled out on his breath as he exhaled, and he lifted the bottle towards me.
‘Hid this the last time I was by here, just in case.’ He nodded at it. ‘Want some?’
Well of course I did, but I had more sense than to take it. In my current desiccated state it would have been like drinking neat alcohol. I shook my head.
‘Not now. Save it for when we get to where we’re going.’
Kolfax stared at me in astonishment. ‘You really believe this slith, don’t you?’ He tilted the bottle again.
I held out my hand for it. ‘The truth is we’re going to die out here. Better get used to the idea.’
‘You might,’ I said. ‘But I won’t. Give me the bottle, you’ve had enough.’ His eyes locked on mine for a moment. ‘I need you sober tomorrow.’
‘Ream off.’ He took another swallow of the cheap spirit. I drew my pistol.
‘Last chance,’ I said. Kolfax laughed.
‘You can’t shoot me. You said it yourself, you need me tomorrow.’
‘Yes I can,’ I said. ‘Just nowhere fatal. You can find water without kneecaps, can’t you?’ He stared at me, wondering if I’d go through with the threat, which actually made two of us, although he didn’t need to know that. After a moment he caved, and handed it over.
‘You’re a hard man,’ he said.
‘It’s my job.’ To his surprise, I handed the bottle back. ‘Take this over to Medicae Ariott, will you? I think he can make better use of this than either of us.’ The primary aid kit from the survival pod had been pretty well cleaned out by now, and at the very least he could use it as a makeshift counterseptic. Kolfax nodded, any resentment he might have felt neatly undermined by the display of trust I’d just given. If I read the man right, that should be enough to keep him in line, at least for now.
‘See you tomorrow,’ he said, turning away.
The next day, with the blessed absence of any more fighting in the ranks, turned out to be little more than a repeat of the previous one. Our ramshackle convoy bounced and snarled its way across the desolate landscape, coating us all in dust, until I would cheerfully have killed for a drink of fresh water. Not that I was the only one. When we stopped at noon for a break, Norbert came over for a quiet word.
‘Water levels are getting critical,’ he warned me. ‘How much longer until we reach this supply dump?’
‘Day after tomorrow,’ I said, ‘if Kolfax doesn’t get us lost.’ He nodded, looking less relieved than I’d hoped.
‘It should just last,’ he assured me. Then he hesitated. ‘Do you want to institute more severe rationing? That should give us another couple of days.’
‘I’d rather not.’ I indicated the milling mass of cramped and filthy civilians queuing up patiently for their cup of water and handful of food. ‘They’ve got little enough to look forward to as it is. If we take even that away…’ I trailed off, unwilling to complete the thought.
Norbert nodded. ‘It’ll be cutting it fine though,’ he warned. ‘If we run into any delays…’
‘You’ll be the first to know,’ I assured him. Fortunately we didn’t, and the afternoon passed in bone rattling tedium, just as the morning had done.
It was coming on towards the evening before anything changed, the sun dipping close enough to the horizon to force us to squint, and I began to wonder if it was time to make camp. I activated the commbead.
‘Kolfax,’ I said. ‘Is there anywhere around here we can stop for the night?’
‘I hope so,’ he responded. We’d barely exchanged a few words since our conversation in the bothy the previous night, but he seemed a little more open with me now, as if the confrontation over the amasec bottle had increased his confidence in me. Certainly, if he continued to harbour doubts about our chances of success he was keeping them to himself, which was a considerable improvement. ‘We should know before long.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked, hoisting myself up on the bolter mount to take a better look at the vehicle in front. Seeing my head appear, Kolfax waved an acknowledgement.
‘We’ve made better time than I thought. Look.’ He gestured off to the right, and narrowing my eyes I was barely able to make out a faint discolouration in the shadow of a rock. I just had time to register that it appeared to have a greenish hue before the dust cloud eddied again, obscuring it from view.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ I asked, hope flaring. Despite his habitual cynicism, Kolfax was unable to keep a note of cautious optimism from his voice.
‘I hope so. We’ll know as soon as we cross the next ridge.’
Although it could only have been a handful of moments, the wait seemed agonising, stretching out before us like a foretaste of eternity. At last, the truck ahead of us crested the next rise in the trail, and began to be eclipsed by the hummock of rock.
‘Well?’ I asked, but before Kolfax could reply the entire group accompanying him erupted in cheers.
‘We’re in luck,’ he assured me, somewhat superfluously under the circumstances. I didn’t have to wait long to confirm it. Jurgen jolted us over the rise, and I found myself staring at a wide depression in the sand carpeted with tiny leaves, curled tight against the baking sun.
‘Rock sage?’ I asked.
‘You know it.’ Kolfax waved from the truck in front, an expansive gesture taking in the whole depression, which must have been over a kilometre across. ‘But that’s not the best bit.’
The trail widened, and Jurgen was able to pull out a little, allowing me to peer past the tailgate of the truck in front.
For a moment, my mind failed to register the significance of what I was seeing, a dazzling shimmer of blood red radiance reflecting the light of the setting sun, and I thought the plants must be flowering. Then the coin dropped.
‘It’s water!’ I said. ‘A whole lake of it!’
‘Looks that way,’ Kolfax agreed. His voice took on a tinge of awe. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it. Are you always this lucky?’
‘So far,’ I assured him, wondering how much longer it could possibly hold.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The improvement in morale that followed our arrival at the temporary oasis was quite remarkable, even to someone as used as I was to tracking its ebb and flow. I suppose that was because for the first time in my career I was being forced to deal with civilians en masse. Up until then I’d only encountered them as individuals, usually in some protocol constricted social environment, or bearing self-righteous complaints about some piece of off-duty misbehaviour by one or more of the gunners whose moral welfare I was supposed to give a frak about. (The latter kind seldom getting any closer to me than my outer office, where Jurgen could be relied on to hold the complainers off indefinitely unless the infraction in question was particularly serious or amusing). I must confess, I was agreeably surprised by the resilience our unlooked-for charges had displayed so far, although I suppose the orks had done a pretty good job of winnowing them down to the hardiest of the inhabitants of the unfortunate community they’d come from.
The first thing I did was vox the PDF and militia leaders, ordering them to move up the convoy as soon as the trail had widened enough to permit overtaking, so that by the time the bulk of the civilians arrived there was a cordon of armed men and women standing between them and the lake. I could picture, all too vividly, the lamin rush[66] which would otherwise result, and had no intention of allowing the precious liquid to become so contaminated with churned-up mud from scores of careless feet that we’d be unable to drink it after all. Luckily, that, and the promise of hot food now we had the wherewithal to prepare it, was enough to keep them quiet, for a while at least.
‘How much can we take?’ I asked Norbert, savouring the mug of recaff Jurgen had thoughtfully provided me with. The Scrivener shrugged, a broad grin on his face for the first time since I’d met him, and juggled some figures on the slate in his hand.
‘If we fill every spare container we’ve got, I think we can forget about rationing,’ he told me, something suspiciously close to glee threatening to break through his bureaucratic reserve. ‘That’ll be more than enough to see us to the supply dump, and a few days beyond that if necessary.’
‘If the place turns out to have been looted, you mean,’ Tayber put in. The three of us were sitting slightly apart from the throng, in the lee of one of the trucks, enjoying our meal in as much privacy as the makeshift camp would afford.
Norbert tilted his head in acknowledgement. ‘Quite. Even in that unfortunate event, we can worry mainly about food and fuel.’ He took another forkful of the salma omelette that Jurgen had prepared for us with every sign of satisfaction.
‘We’ll do that, then,’ I said, ‘if you can get your people collecting the water as soon as possible.’
Norbert nodded. ‘I’ll get right on it.’ He seemed almost on the point of abandoning his meal to commence the task, and I urged him to sit down and finish it, which he seemed more than happy to do. ‘Anything we should take care of after that?’
‘Well I don’t know about you,’ I said, ‘but I could do with a bath. And perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to organise a laundry detail while we’re about it.’ I glanced at Norbert again. ‘We won’t need to extract any more water tomorrow morning, will we?’
‘By no means.’ If anything, he looked even happier than before, despite the extra work I’d just dumped on him. ‘We’ll have more than enough.’ He cleaned his plate with a lump of bread, and departed, still chewing.
‘Well, that’s some good news,’ Tayber conceded, not quite managing to conceal the lifting of his own mood now I’d suggested bathing. Emperor knows I felt itchy and foetid enough after only a few days, let alone the weeks of privation he must have endured.
‘Glad to hear it,’ Felicia said, appearing around the corner of the truck with Grenbow’s vox pack dangling casually from her mechadendrite. ‘What is? Ooh, salma, haven’t tasted that in a while.’
‘Help yourself,’ I said. I glanced up at Jurgen. ‘Can you fix another one of these for the enginseer?’
‘Of course.’ Jurgen started fussing with his portable stove, and I waved Felicia to the folding chair Norbert had just vacated. She sat gratefully, depositing the vox set on the sand next to me.
‘I’ve managed to fix it,’ she said. ‘But don’t expect too much. I had to take some parts from a power drill we found in the roadmen’s hut to make a new flux capacitor, and I ran out of sanctified oil, so I had to bless some lube gel and dab that on instead.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s more or less functioning now, though.’
‘More or less is a lot better than not at all,’ I assured her. ‘What sort of range has it got?’
‘Couple of kilometres I should think.’ She accepted a plate of food from my aide, glancing up at him with a cheerful smile. ‘Thanks, Jurgen, you’re a cog.’[67]
‘You’re welcome, miss.’ He flushed uncomfortably, and busied himself with some small task, which seemed to require his urgent and undivided attention.
‘Excellent,’ I said. It wasn’t as much as I’d have liked, which would have been something with enough range and power to call in a shuttle to extract me (along with a fighter escort to be on the safe side), but we could relay the commbead signals through it and increase their range dramatically. That meant we could spread out a bit more, and perhaps deploy a few scouts so we weren’t moving quite as blindly as before. All in all, our chances of survival had just been materially improved.
‘Who’s going to operate it?’ Tayber asked. ‘Grenbow’s running one of the militia teams.’ An assignment he’d been given purely because, with the vox out of commission, there was no call for his specialised skills, which were suddenly in demand again. On the other hand, removing him from the team now, just when he was turning them into something approaching a cohesive unit, would be catastrophic.
‘And from what I’ve seen we’d be idiots not to leave him there,’ I said. ‘At least until things have settled down a bit.’
Tayber nodded. ‘I agree,’ he said, apparently under the happy delusion that hearing his opinion would have made the slightest difference to my own. ‘But there’s no one else.’
‘I could work it,’ Felicia said, slightly indistinctly. She nodded at the bulky backpack. ‘The principles are simple enough.’
‘But you don’t know the proper procedures,’ Tayber objected. ‘Call signs, protocols…’
‘She doesn’t have to,’ I pointed out. ‘If the beads are tied in to it anyway to make up a relay net, you or I can respond to any incoming messages.’ Tayber nodded, the sudden realisation of the full implications of the little transceiver in his ear finally dawning on him. ‘All Felicia has to do is keep the channels open and listen out for any stray signal traffic.’
‘I can do that,’ the enginseer assured us, swallowing the last mouthful of salma and belching loudly. She grinned, mildly embarrassed, and handed the plate to my aide. ‘Sorry about that, I’m not used to having a full stomach again yet. Thanks Jurgen, that was delicious.’ Something of an overstatement given my aide’s somewhat basic culinary skills, but considering what she’d probably been eating for the last couple of months, understandable all the same. I smiled, intending to dissipate any remaining traces of embarrassment.
‘Never thought I’d hear a tech-priest say that,’ I said. ‘I was under the impression you all considered flavour an irrelevance where food was concerned.’
Felicia grinned back. ‘We’re supposed to disregard fleshly pleasures in our pursuit of the ideal of the machine,’ she agreed cheerfully. ‘But some of them are pretty hard to give up.’ I nodded in response, beginning to see why her tutors at the seminary had found her so difficult to deal with. ‘So what’s for dessert?’
The next morning dawned with a palpable air of optimism, which swept the whole convoy. Despite the chill of daybreak, I essayed a final dip in the pool, reflecting ruefully that I’d definitely been hanging around with Valhallans for far too long,[68] and I was far from the only one; it seemed as though half the refugees had had the same idea. I passed Felicia on my way to the pool, heading in the opposite direction, her hair wet and her robe clinging to her still damp body enough to make it more than clear that she was beginning to fill out nicely now she was getting some proper food again.
‘Are you still comfortable with the vox arrangements?’ I asked, partly to reassure myself, and partly to enjoy the view for a little longer. Felicia nodded, not fooled for a moment I suspect.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Grenbow’s in the truck with me, don’t forget. I can always ask him for advice if I need it.’
‘I’m sure you won’t,’ I assured her, and resumed my leisurely stroll to the water’s edge. A good couple of dozen people had beaten me to it, laughing and splashing as if they were at a resort spa somewhere, instead of deep behind enemy lines. Two of them, I noticed with some surprise, were Demara and Tamworth, chucking handfuls of water at each other like a couple of juvies.
