Second Wave -- 37
Chapter 37
Joe carefully raised his hands, showing his empty palms. As he did, I heard someone in the back of the group surrounding us yell, “Dec!”
It was Rudy! The next instant, he came charging through the front line of men, and suddenly, we were hugging each other and pounding on each other’s back. I noticed that his left arm seemed to be locked and relatively immobile. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back to look into his face. He’d aged more than the four years we’d been apart. I glanced at his arm, and he said, “I’ve been through a lot since I saw you last. My arm will never let me be as good a fighter as I used to be.”
“Aw, Rudy, even with one arm tied behind you, you’re more than a match for most guys,” I wasn’t flattering him, only being honest.
“Not anymore, Dec. I caught a bullet, and the scar tissue has locked my arm in a right angle. I can’t extend it, and it makes it really hard to shoot and fight. I’ve been busy advising the Warlord. He’s a good guy. Name is Jake.”
“Jake,” I said, “Is that all? No high and mighty titles or anything?”
“It’s what he goes by,” he replied. “He must have a last name, but I never heard it. He doesn’t go much for formality or titles, but he’s a capable organizer, and that’s mostly the reason that Denver has done as well as it has. We’ll need to have you meet him.”
I asked, “I heard he was pretty stern, especially with prisoners. True?”
Rudy responded, “He has to maintain order, and a lot of the people who survived are, shall we say, hard-headed.” His eyes strayed to the shuttle-craft. “What do you have there? It sure isn’t a human craft! What have you been doing?”
“Look, Rudy, I’ve got two spaceships that can take us to other star systems. One of them is armed, and if we can get the Pugs pinned down in one location or squeezed up where they are in Boulder, my ship will make a strafing run and wipe them out. We definitely need to see this, Jake. If he can get his people to attack, then my forces will attack from the North, and we’ll settle the Pugs for good.” I didn’t mention the exact type of forces I had. It just seemed too complicated and wasn’t necessary anyhow. He was impressed enough as it was.
We got organized to see Jake, leaving Whistle locked in the shuttle. I figured he’d be safer there than walking around with us, especially since no one had ever seen anything like him before. Rudy led the way, and we were shortly approaching the stadium command post.
The Warlord wasn’t anything like I’d thought he’d be. He’d been in the Marine Reserve and was a fighter, but he also knew enough about how people worked to rule successfully over the Denver area and run a large contingent of fighters, some of whom were truly wild and undisciplined. He was a medium-sized guy with piercing eyes, longish hair, and an imposing presence.
We were ushered into his private quarters, where we had an involved discussion. I explained my plan and enumerated my resources, including the nature of my allies. The idea of me bringing another couple of alien races to Earth didn’t go over well at first, but I was able to gain a provisional acceptance for them. Both Rudy and Jake were willing to wait until they saw how well the six-limbed tigers fought. Joe helped with his description, but he really hadn’t seen them in a fight.
Finally, we got down to the basic issue of territory and power. I could tell that Jake not only wanted to do the right thing for the people under his command, but he also wanted to keep their territory and keep himself in control. I explained that I had no ambitions towards control or expansion of my personal territory. To keep things simple, I claimed control over the Grand Lake area. We had more of a democracy there, but I thought the folks wouldn’t mind if I exaggerated my authority a little. Our meeting became much more cooperative when we agreed that we’d each stay on our own side of the Divide. Grand Lake didn’t have enough resources to interest Jake. He needed farm and ranch land to keep his large population fed, but we didn’t have much of that. We agreed that we could trade back and forth, cooperate in mutual self-defense, and start by fighting the Pugs and Pug-bears.
After hammering out the details, we adopted my basic plan with only minor modifications. I was to go back and attack with my forces, driving the invaders towards the south of Boulder. They’d attack when the Warlord’s people saw the Pugs moving their way. They were going to reinforce their front line quietly so that they would have far more force there than they’d been using, and that should allow them to stop the Pugs’ advance and drive them back towards us. They’d also cover both the high ground in the foothills and provide a large force out on the flat towards Longmont to keep the Pugs boxed into Boulder. This would prevent them from escaping our trap. Once we’d compressed the invading force as tightly as we could, we’d pull back rapidly just before Erin made her strafing pass. She’d be firing from low orbit, and Frazzle had calculated that they’d be able to fire the big anti-matter cannon in burst mode for about seven seconds. I’d have them move the ship into an east-west orbit right over Baseline Road in Boulder. That would allow the cannon to strike at the east end of the occupied area and traverse towards the west, with the burst ending as it struck the front row of foothills. With any luck, it would catch our enemy by surprise.
All forces would then converge, wiping out any Pugs that remained. At least, that was the plan. We agreed to start the northern side’s advance as soon as I was able to return to Estes Park. Jake’s people would begin sneaking reinforcements up to the front lines immediately. We hoped to be able to finish the battle sometime tomorrow. The exact time would depend on two factors. The first was how fast we could bunch up the Pugs, and the second was how long after that it would take for Erin to be in the correct position.
We shook hands, and Joe and I left. Rudy came with us as an escort back to the shuttle. He was going to stay in Denver for the time being. His position as strategic adviser was important to our success. Joe was going to come back with me. He’d be in radio contact with the southern front and act as liaison.
When we got back to the shuttle-craft, I introduced Rudy to Whistle. Rudy, at least, was very impressed with my furry little friend. They inspected each other, and then Whistle said, “You got a bad arm. We got advanced medical device on the ship that might fix. When dis over, we get you on ship and see if your arm can be better fixed.”
Rudy reached out his good arm, taking Whistle’s small paw in his hand to shake it. “That’s a deal. I’d be really grateful if my arm could be even a little better. It’s not much use the way it is.”
We climbed back into the tight cockpit and took off. In a few minutes, we were out of Denver and heading towards Estes Park at about a two-mile altitude. We landed with no problems, and I briefed Kasm and his group on their role. By then, they’d rested about as much as they wanted, and they started moving out immediately. There weren’t too many of them, but each was an accomplished Pug fighter, and they could cover territory rapidly.
While we were gone, Frank had located a working farm truck, and the three of us humans took it down the road toward Lyons. There, we waited for the Sim-tigers to catch up. They’d spread out so they could cover a sizable front, but they were keeping pace with each other and in touch telepathically. Their mental communication gave them the ability to coordinate their movements precisely.
Whistle flew an observation pattern in the shuttle. If he located any of the enemy, he’d break in on Joe’s radio so we could respond. It worked well. He located a few small Pug groups, and the Sim-tigers attacked them, per my instructions relayed through Kasm, who was still the only mental contact that I could make.
We moved out of Lyons, headed towards Boulder, and rolled up a few more groups of Pugs and a couple of Pug-bears along the road into town. The Pug-bears seemed to be ferals under loose direction by the Pugs. At least they fought like they had no sense, wildly charging around and almost as dangerous to the Pugs as to the Sim-tigers. They were easily dispatched.
Things got stickier as we got into north Boulder. I don’t know how many Pugs there were, but it was a large group, maybe several thousand. They were mostly armed with splinter-guns, though, and those weapons were largely nullified by the Sim-tiger’s natural resistance to poison and their speed and agility. Frank and I used our eraser-rifles sparingly to clear out strongholds the Pugs had set up in a few buildings, including the social services complex that was near the north end of town. I’d given Joe my eraser-pistol, but he stayed back with the radio and had no actual opportunity to use it.
The Pug resistance grew stiffer and stiffer as they retreated. We were bunching them up, and there were more and more of them, with a few actually carrying anti-matter weapons or the crew-served, plasma-bolt weapons. We lost a few Sim-tigers to these, but our allies were creative and flexible with their strategy. One or two would keep moving and showing themselves to attract fire, while others would circle the Pugs and attack from an unexpected direction. In this way, we gradually advanced throughout the night hours and into the morning of the next day.
Along about ten in the morning, Joe let me know that the Warlord’s people were attacking. The Pugs had tried to break out down the highway, and they had sprung their trap. We increased our pressure, and by noon, the enemy was heavily concentrated in the downtown Boulder area. I didn’t think that things could get any more favorable for us, so I called in Erin’s strike. The FTL was still a little out of position, but Frazzle said he could manage the firing run in about an hour, so we dug in and tried to keep the Pugs where they were.
They must have had at least one knowledgeable military mind in their ranks. Someone on their side apparently got very nervous about their situation because they tried to break through our northern front. There was some heavy fighting for a few minutes, but we were able to hold. Frank and I obliterated a couple of large groups with our anti-matter weapons. That was good for me. I mean, “dead is dead,” and I didn’t care if we killed them or Erin did.
At exactly five minutes past one, there was a loud roaring noise that quickly passed from east to west. We couldn’t see much, but what we did see was impressive. The buildings, trees, and everything just disappeared, taking the enemy forces with them. There was no smoke or dust. One minute, there were buildings; the next minute, the roaring sound caused by vast numbers of particles crackling out of existence, ripped by, and there was just a strip of raw earth. The anti-matter beam lowered the ground level several feet, and the strip looked like a half-mile-wide parking lot that neatly bisected the town. The pass was followed by a momentary silence, and then a number of fountains of water shot up from severed water mains along with a low whooshing rumble of air filling the partial void. I was shocked at the destruction. Attaching the gun to the ship’s power had increased the output by an order of magnitude over the power pack.
We advanced carefully, finding only a little resistance. A few Pugs still had been in positions nearer to us, but they posed no problems. I could hear gunfire to the south and realized that the Denver forces were also finishing off the remaining Pugs. Every so often, a Pug-bear would come out of hiding and need to be dealt with, but the Sim-tigers were handling that easily. The Warlord’s forces had a much more difficult time with the Pug-bears, but they, too, had developed ways to bring the tough creatures down.
By dusk, we’d finished the clean-up, and I met Jake and Rudy in the center of the barren strip. The second wave of the aliens’ invasion was effectively over.
Jake looked at Frank curiously and greeted him, “Hey, Frank! Good to see you. Where’s Ted and Erin?”
Frank looked unhappy for a moment at being reminded of his friend, then answered briefly, “Ted didn’t make it. Erin’s flying the ship up there.” He pointed upwards as he spoke.
“Why don’t you come on back with me? You can have a position in my personal guard,” Jake suggested.
Frank didn’t pause to think it over. He answered immediately, “No. I think I’d like to stay on with Dec and the tigers. I’m getting along with those cats pretty well, and there’s still some stragglers to wipe out.”
Jake shrugged as if it didn’t matter, then turned to me to ask, “How about Erin? Are you going to keep her, too?”
I didn’t want him to think I had a claim to her. I replied, “She can make her own decision as to where she wants to go, I guess. I don’t know what she’ll want to do.”
His reply was somewhat foreboding. Despite being a better person than I’d expected, he was still the Warlord and had expectations he wanted his people to meet. “She’s got some explaining to do when I see her. I sent her up to Estes to see what happened there, and she just went off, leaving my people to retreat when Pugs started coming through in force.”
“It was an accident,” I hastily replied. “We got caught in the transporter when it activated and ended up on one of the moons of Uranus. We’ve been working to get back all of this time.”
“That may be, but I’m still unhappy with her. She was the leader of my group, and she should have had enough sense not to put herself in danger. She’ll have to be demoted for that.”
He had apparently made up his mind.