Lazarus Rising Read online

  Borland beamed at him. "Ted, you just proposed a time-honored method for curing what ails battle-weary troops. I agree, my sailors could be put to much better use working on repairs to our battle damage."

  He reached across the table, and the two commanders shook hands.

  Chapter 2

  First Acolyte Ben Loman stood in the observation cupola of his command car and scanned the foothills before him. He had halted his reconnaissance platoon just behind a low ridge and positioned his lead vehicle so he could see over the military crest. An unmanned reconnaissance aircraft had spotted something out there, and he had been sent to investigate. His heart thumped heavily inside his chest out of fear and excitement: fear that they had at last found some surviving demons, and excitement that this time they would have the killing edge. The demon host had been defeated, and First Acolyte Ben Loman's platoon, one of many recon units searching for demon survivors, might today be the first element of the Army of the Lord to make contact with the vile creatures.

  Ben Loman was no fool. He knew that the demons at the height of their power were more than a match for anything the Kingdomite army could throw at them. But the off-world Marines had broken the siege of Haven and crushed the demons, who had fled with the Marines in hot pursuit. If any demons were still on Kingdom, they would be demoralized and underequipped for battle. Ben Loman was hot for revenge and eager to prove himself in battle as an officer of the Army of the Lord.

  His headset crackled. "Sir, we await your orders," Senior Sword Raipur announced.

  Ben Loman winced at the insistent tone in the senior sword's voice, as if the enlisted man were reminding him to get on with his mission. Raipur was a capable but overcautious noncom, always reminding his platoon commander that his mission was to find the enemy, not engage him. Senior Sword Raipur seemed actually afraid they might make contact with the demons.

  They'd been on patrol for three weeks and were some 1,200 kilometers from the capital city of Haven. The main body of the Burning Bush Regiment was positioned sixty kilometers to their rear, eyes, ears, and weapons at the ready. Everyone's nerves were on edge, expecting any moment to run into the enemy. But so far, maybe until this moment, none had appeared. Other regiments in other sectors were also coming up negative, although they were finding isolated groups of refugees everywhere, people who'd fled into the wilderness when their settlements had been destroyed by the demons. Many had been killed by troops with itchy trigger fingers, shooting first and checking later. Those unfortunate incidents were proof, if any were needed, that the soldiers of the Army of the Lord were still scared witless by thought of the demons, the alien creatures the off-world Marines called Skinks.

  And the men were nearly exhausted.

  "Hold your position. I'm coming back there." Ben Loman threw off his headset with a loud bang that made his driver and gunner look up suddenly. "Take over the surveillance," he curtly told the driver. He grabbed his map unit and climbed out of the cupola. "If you see anything, get on the horn. I'll be back with the senior sword." He stepped lightly out of the vehicle and walked quickly back to Senior Sword Raipur's position. The senior sword saw him coming and dismounted.

  "Have you seen them, sir?"

  "Come over here and I'll show you." Ben Loman guided the noncom into the scrub about twenty-five meters from the vehicles. They crouched in the shade of a small tree and Loman activated his terrain unit. "It's just like the colonel deacon told us back at the CP." A three-dimensional overlay of the foothills three kilometers to their front appeared on the screen. "The bird spotted infrared signatures in this box canyon here." He zoomed in on the suspected area. The canyon walls were steep and massive, the passage through it narrow and littered with rock falls.

  "Yessir. The only way in there is on foot," Senior Sword Raipur said. His voice betrayed his anxiety at the thought of so small a force negotiating that narrow space between the canyon walls.

  "Well, swordie, we're going to have to go in there; that's what we're here for," Ben Loman responded. He looked into his senior sword's eyes, and after a moment the noncom dropped his gaze to the display on the terrain unit. He's afraid, Ben Loman thought.

  "Why don't we just call in air or artillery?"

  "We are here and we're going in there."

  The senior sword had a worried expression on his face. "Sir, I recommend we call for reinforcements from regiment," he said at last, forcing the words out. That was standing operational procedure for a reconnaissance unit—find the enemy and call in the heavy stuff, not engage if a fight could be avoided.

  "We will, when I give the word. But I'm not causing the entire regiment to deploy until I know for sure what's up there. If they are demons, they'll be demoralized, and if we have to fight them, we can." Ben Loman glanced at the sun, hanging just above the horizon. "It'll be dark in another hour. We'll go in under the cover of darkness."

  Senior Sword Raipur said nothing. They had excellent night optics, thanks to the Marines, but still...

  "Look, it's probably nothing, probably wild animals nested up there. Or refugees. But if it is the demons, we're alert, heavily armed, and ready for combat. Go back to your vehicle, get some rest, and when it's full dark we'll go in." Ben Loman spoke gently. He could not afford to have his senior enlisted man get cold feet now. "We're just going to go up there, see what's at the end of that canyon, and get out. Okay?"

  "Yessir." Raipur did not trust his commander; the young officer was too eager for a fight. And he did not like night operations.

  Back in the command vehicle, Ben Loman continued scanning the foothills, plotting an access route into the canyon. They could drive about halfway up before they'd have to dismount. He would take half his men with him and leave the rest behind as a reserve. Senior Sword Raipur would go with him; Sword Abshire would remain behind with the vehicles. Abshire was a steady, unimaginative noncom who'd follow orders and remain steady under fire, if it came to a fight. Ben Loman made a mental note to ask the colonel deacon to transfer Raipur once they got back to the regimental base camp. Even though Abshire belonged to the Disciples of Hogarth, an offshoot of the Protestant Baptist denomination, he would make a good senior sword.

  The shadows were lengthening quickly by then. Ben Loman thumbed his throat mike. "Listen up! Saddle up! Drivers, put your engines on silent running. Follow me and keep your intervals." First Acolyte Ben Loman bowed his head in the proper nondenominational prayer. "Heavenly Presence, watch over us tonight." He paused. "Please let there be demons!" His heart raced. "Great One, Holy One, give us victory!"

  Great Shaman Hadu, the last shaman, as far as he knew, of the Pilipili Magna, raised his arms above his head. "Great Lord, Kuma Mayo, you have blessed your people beyond measure!" he intoned. The few dozen wretches squatting about the fire, all that remained of the Pilipili Magna, listened intently, their wet eyes reflecting the bright firelight. An infant wailed and its mother put her nipple to its mouth. The Great Shaman smiled. Life was going on. The people lived!

  The Great Shaman looked upon his people. They were emaciated, their starvation barely covered by rags that had once been festive garments. But they had survived! The great evil that had descended upon their fields and villages from the sky had passed over these fortunate few. The canyon where they'd found refuge had fresh water, caves for shelter, and a few hectares of arable soil where crops were already beginning to grow. By next harvest they could emerge from hiding and reclaim their fields.

  "Kuma mayo embovu!" the Great Shaman intoned, raising his face to heaven. In his solemn rituals, the Great Shaman reverted to the ancient language of his East African ancestors. Few of the people spoke the old tongue anymore, but they all knew the ritual language by heart.

  "Tini maji!" the people shouted in response.

  "Juu povu!" the Great Shaman shouted. Behind him the flickering firelight cast his shadow hugely upon the canyon wall. Far above, the stars glittered in astonishing profusion. The warmth from the fire embraced the people. Sparks
from the burning wood rose into the air in a festive display.

  "Illi yokuzaa, emziavoo!" the people shouted with joy, in the comforting age-old ceremony of obeisance to their God.

  The people lived!

  The farther they climbed up into the canyon, the more difficult it became, as the reconnaissance element negotiated the detritus that littered the floor. Along the north wall a mountain stream gurgled and splashed its way to the valley below, helping somewhat to cover the inevitable noise of their ascent.

  "Easy does it!" Ben Loman whispered into his command net as one of his men slipped on some loose shale and his equipment clattered. "Halt!" he said. "I told you all to fasten down your gear before we started the climb. The next man who makes a noise is going up on a charge!"

  "Acolyte!" the point man just around a bend in the canyon wall whispered into Ben Loman's headset. "I see them! I see them!"

  "Senior Sword, take charge, I'm going on point," Ben Loman said.

  The point man crouched amid a jumble of boulders that had fallen into the canyon ages ago. A hundred yards in front of where the point waited, Ben Loman saw a bright fire flickering in the blackness. "God save us!" he whispered. A figure, its grotesque shadow cast menacingly upon the rock wall behind it, stood before the fire, gesturing wildly."It's them!" Ben Loman breathed. The hand he placed on the point man's shoulder shook slightly. "Raipur!" he almost shouted, momentarily forgetting proper radio procedure, "bring the men up here. Abshire, contact the regimental CP. Tell them we have the demons in our sights and must, repeat, must engage!" His voice shook as he spoke into his mouthpiece.

  "Sir!" It was Senior Sword Raipur. He crouched beside Ben Loman and whispered in his ear so his voice would not be picked up by the men who were quietly taking up positions to either side of them along the rockfall. "We don't know how many of them there are down there," he hissed.

  Ben Loman switched off his throat mike and turned to his noncom sharply. "Count them!" he snapped, gesturing toward the fire with his head.

  Raipur's night optics clearly revealed several dozen, possibly as many as sixty figures squatting about the fire. "They outnumber us, sir."

  "We have the element of surprise," Ben Loman insisted, his voice edged with the exasperation he felt at his senior sword's despicable display of overcaution.

  "First Acolyte, I have seen the demons close up and those don't look at all like them. Besides, Acolyte, it is not our job to engage the enemy! We should hold this position and wait for reinforcements!" Raipur was breathing heavily. Ben Loman just stared at the noncom wordlessly. Raipur felt compelled to go on: "I'd say they're refugees from somewhere. They may have intelligence we can use. If memory serves, this region was inhabited by several animist tribes, people too few in number and too insignificant for anyone to bother about. Let me go forward and make contact with them."

  Ben Loman's mouth dropped open in surprise. He was speechless for a moment. "Go forward? We lose the element of surprise and you get yourself killed?" He shook his head violently. Then chanting came to them on the quiet mountain air. The sound of the voices caused a chill to run down Ben Loman's spine. The others heard it too. "Is that the voice of mortal man, Senior Sword?" Ben Loman asked triumphantly. He switched his mike on. "On my command, at a hundred meters, fire when ready!" He turned to the noncom. "Demons? Pagans? I don't care who they are, let God sort them out!"

  Great Shaman Hadu's body seemed to fly apart as several fléchette weapons hit him at the same instant. The Pilipili Magna froze in unbelieving horror for an instant, and then as the soldiers' weapons zeroed in on the figures crouching about the fire, they realized what was happening and scrambled in panic for cover, some toward caves in the rock wall, others into the high grass on the edge of the spring that was their water source.

  "On your feet! Forward!" Ben Loman screamed. The soldiers descended on the camp in a ragged line, firing as they advanced. Suddenly, in that first volley, the weeks of hardship and danger drained away and they felt like giants squashing hideous insects before them. They shouted and laughed and screamed, firing with abandon into the fleeing mob of Pilipili Magna, harmless farmers frightened half out of their wits, not a single firearm among them. But to Ben Loman's men, the figures flopping and twisting in their optics were demons, ugly snouts, beady eyes, rending teeth and all. No mistake. Revenge was theirs at last!

  First Acolyte Ben Loman's eyes blazed with fury, and spittle flecked his lips as he fired and fired and fired. What exhilaration! Demons scattered and fell before his onslaught. Before he knew it he was standing at the campfire. Twisted bodies lay all about. An elderly man—for now he could clearly see that his targets had been human beings, not demons—was moaning nearby, his legs neatly sliced off just above the knees. Without thinking, Ben Loman killed him with one shot to the head. Whooping and shouting, his men pursued the remaining Pilipili Magna into the dead end of the canyon, shooting them down without mercy. Gradually the screams and moans of the victims ceased.

  Senior Sword Raipur was horrified at what he was seeing. He knew these men, had lived with them for months. They'd been disciplined soldiers, but now they'd turned into animals. He shouted for them to stop and regroup, but nobody was listening. Men were throwing the bodies into the fire! He rushed in and dragged a woman out, screaming for the soldiers to stop. No use, she was already dead. He whirled on the acolyte. "Tell them to stop!" he shouted. "What are you doing? Stop them, stop them!" The noncom was almost in tears as he screamed at his commander.

  "On me! Everyone on me!" Ben Loman shouted into the command net at last, his breath coming in heavy gasps. Despite the cool mountain night air, he was perspiring freely. His legs felt rubbery. He steadied himself. He looked down at the old man as if seeing him for the first time. Damn! They weren't demons after all.

  Gradually his men came into the firelight. "Senior Sword, are the men all accounted for?" he asked Raipur.

  Raipur glared ominously at his platoon leader. He had not fired his weapon, and what he saw in the diminishing firelight sickened him to the depths of his soul. "They were not demons," he answered, his voice hard and flat with anger.

  "So what? They are infidels, pagans, life that is not even worthy of life! Are all the men accounted for, Senior Sword?" Raipur was silent, continuing to glare at his commander. "I asked you a question, Senior Sword," Ben Loman said in his normal voice.

  Raipur glanced about him quickly at the troopers gathered around the fire. "Yeah. Sir."

  Ben Loman removed his helmet and wiped the perspiration off his forehead. "All right, men. Spread out, look for survivors. Use your infras. We have to finish the job. You." He turned to Senior Sword Raipur, "You take two men and search up there." He gestured toward the canyon wall. "A bunch of them ran that way, probably into caves. Find them. You know what to do."

  "Acolyte, if any of the survivors are armed, we could be ambushed. Let me take—"

  "No! You take two men, swordie, you go up there, you flush them out, understand?" the acolyte sneered. "It'll give you a chance to fire your weapon."

  Reluctantly, Raipur selected two men—he'd seen them tossing bodies into the fire—and started out toward the canyon wall. Along the way they discovered several refugees who'd only been slightly wounded. His men killed them without hesitation. No longer worried about being fired on themselves, the soldiers used their powerful hand-held torches to light the way. The brilliant beams illuminated two dark openings in the rock face. "You two take the one on the left, I'll take the one on the right." The two soldiers looked at Raipur questioningly. "Go on! You know what to do. I'll be all right."

  A few meters into the cave mouth Raipur turned off his light and switched on his infras. Nothing, thank God. He switched the light back on and proceeded farther back into the cave. Everywhere there was evidence that people had been living there—discarded clothing and personal items, fire pits, sleeping places. Raipur shook his head sadly. He switched off the light and stood there in total darkness, listening inte
ntly. From somewhere far ahead came the steady, hollow sound of dripping water. Then he heard rocks falling as if someone was scrabbling for cover, and his heart skipped a beat. He took the safety off his rifle. Innocent refugees or not, he was not about to take any chances. He switched his light back on. The scrabbling grew louder and then stopped entirely. He switched on his infras. There it was! Fifteen meters off to his left, a faint glow behind a small boulder.

  Raipur grinned. He fired several bursts back into the cave but away from the faint glow that represented someone hiding behind the boulder. The fléchettes shattered against the cave wall in a brilliant pyrotechnic display, suffusing the cave with their pale light. His headset crackled suddenly but nothing came through. Evidently, the rock blocked the radio transmission. He grinned again.

  Behind the boulder, cowering in a small ball, lay a young woman, a tiny bundle clutched tightly to her breast. In the brilliant light of Raipur's torch she squeezed her eyes closed and turned her back to him, putting her body between the soldier and her baby, anticipating the shot she assumed was coming and offering the infant the only protection she could give it.

  The woman shivered in her rags; not from cold, but from fear. She moaned quietly, anticipating the shot that would end the life of her and her child. Raipur slung his rifle and unfastened a sundry pack from his equipment harness.

  "Can you understand me?" he asked. The woman continued to moan and shiver. He nudged her with his foot. "Can you understand what I'm saying?" he asked again. "Answer me!" he commanded. The woman nodded. "Take this. Food in here. Understand? Something to make fire and keep you and your baby warm. Stay here until we're gone, understand? Don't move, don't make a sound." He pulled a ground sheet out of the pack and covered the pair with it. If Ben Loman sent someone else into the cave to double check, the sheet would prevent their being picked up on his infras.