“Hear it？”
“Where？ Wait… yes。 It’s ahead of us。”
“No；” said Viltry。 “That’s an acoustic bounce off the valley。 It’s behind us。”
LeGuin instantly began spinning the Executioner’s turret to face rear。
“Get us off the bridge！” he yelled at Emdeen。
“Get moving！” Viltry shouted from the hatch to the trucks all around。 “Come on！ Clear the way！
Get these vehicles rolling！”
Over two…thirds of the column had still to cross the bridge’s ancient pilings。
Viltry heard a change in the vector note。
“Here they come！” he yelled。
Someone back down the convoy had at last got a decent track too。 From the end of the long line
of vehicles forward； weapon mounts began to fire at the sky。 Pintle…weapons； elevated cannons； the
few Hydra platforms still carrying munitions。 Small…arms opened up as well； men standing up in the
back of trucks to unload las…rifles into the sky。 Hundreds of other Guardsmen； unarmed or too
scared to make such a bold defiance； scrambled out of their transports and ran for cover in the trees
and amongst the reed beds of the tributary。
The firing was intense。 The convoy’s elevated shooting filled the rainy sky with a blizzard of
white hot or illuminated rounds。 There was still no sign of the hostiles。
“They’re wasting most of it…” Viltry said； noticing that LeGuin at least had not started firing。
LeGuin was about to speak。
Something went over； northwards； low and very fast。 The jet wash shook them and their ears
popped。 A brief hint of something mauve or dark red。
Less than a second later； there was a dull； hollow thump。 Rippling around itself； a large ball of
flame boiled up into the sky on a neck of smoke and sparks some three hundred metres behind them。
Viltry saw the second bat； a Hell Talon。 It had just sat its bomb load on the very tail end of the
column； and had clearly hit something significant… a tank； an ammo…carrier； maybe。 A curtain of
bright； almost neon…white flame rushed into the air way behind them。 Small black specks； which
Viltry realised were very probably large pieces of detonating vehicle； flew sideways out of the flashwake。
The Talon kept low； switching to cannon to rake the convoy。 The noise of its jets was terrifying。
Crouched in what seemed like a very fragile drum of metal； Viltry experienced the psychological
impact of an air attack for the first time。 He virtually froze； his body refusing to respond。 His teeth
chattered。
No； his teeth were chattering because LeGuin had opened fire with the main weapons； the twinlinked
autocannons； adding his force to the AA storm。 The whole turret shook； and started to turn as
it tracked。 Gripping the edges of the hatch； Viltry stared at the incoming Talon。 A stream of green
tracer…shot from a Hydra nearly struck it。 It banked slightly； almost daintily； refusing to be deterred
from its long； hammering run。
Its cannons were firing。 Fast blinks of light…flash flickered around the recessed weapon mounts。
Whipping； concussive impacts stripped up the line of the road。 A cargo…8 shuddered violently； as if
men with rock…drills were working in its flatbed。 Its canvas cargo hood shredded； its windows blew
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out and its tyres burst。 Bodywork seams split and exhaled dust and smoke。 A second cargo…8； just
ahead of it； lurched and immediately caught fire。 Viltry saw men burning like brush torches
staggering out of the cab。 Still running； the truck left the road； bounced down the embankment； and
rolled on its side in the reed beds； hissing up a thick cloud of steam as river water hit fire。
The Talon rushed overhead。 Viltry flinched as one of its shells glanced off the Line’s forearmour。
LeGuin’s shots streamed after it； but missed。
“Not enough deflection！” Viltry shouted。
“What？”
“Deflection！ You’re not anticipating him right！”
“Can you do better？” LeGuin asked。
“I can try；” Viltry replied。
LeGuin ordered Mattedes down into the lower compartment to free an autoloader that was
sticking。 He himself switched seats to the commander’s position and allowed Viltry to drop into the
gunner’s seat。
“Bear in mind this isn’t a dedicated AA vehicle；” LeGuin cautioned。
“I know；” said Viltry。
“I mean； we don’t have a Hydra’s elevation； or targeters。 I’m just trying to throw up some fire。”
“I know；” Viltry repeated。 He was looking around the turret fixtures； familiarising himself with
them。 “Traverse？”
“There；” said LeGuin； pointing to a two…way clutch lever。 “You know what you’re doing？”
“Well； there are some differences； but it’s not that different from a Marauder turret。” Viltry sat
back； getting used to the prismatic sight； and test…swung the turret about。 “You were doing pretty
well； by the way；” Viltry said。 “But it’s a predictive thing。 You’re not used to airborne targets。
You’re thinking they’re going to move like an arrow or a dart； but vector…thrust don’t do that。
They’ll come up or to the side in a weird way。”
Emdeen had them off the bridge now。 Parts of the rearward column was burning fiercely。
“More coming；” LeGuin called； one hand up to his earphones。 The Hydra batteries on the road
started up again。 Viltry strained to see out of the limited scope。
“They’re coming for the bridge。 They want this column stopped right here。”
Viltry started the turret turning； and then began firing。 God…Emperor； it was slow and lumbering；
and almost like firing blind。 The Talon went over； unharmed。 Viltry began to realise why LeGuin
had been struggling。 The Line of Death had been built for savage anti…personnel action； not air
cover。
He swung the turret back fast； immediately picking up a second Talon on its inward path。 Viltry
used the smoke plumes from burning wrecks along the road as a scale； then began firing again at the
air above the bridge； the point at which he was sure the hostile would start to lift out。
Elevated as high as they would go； the Line of Death’s twin cannons punched heavy fire at the
clouds； and that stream began to swish in a horse…tail as Viltry dragged the turret around； aiming not
for the Talon； but for where the Talon would be when the rounds had covered the distance。 Nearly；
nearly…
The Hell Talon； blue striped with bone…white； tried to viff hard at the last second； but its forward
rate was too high for any kind of instant adjustment。 It flew right through the Line’s fusillade。
Riddled； the airframe tore open； fragments flying off。 The tank rocked as it went over。 The Talon
sliced across the main river on one wing…tip； then pancaked and hit the far shore。 A throaty
explosion followed。
Matredes； Emdeen and the other crewmen started whooping and cheering。 LeGuin punched
Viltry on the shoulder。
“That was mainly luck；” said Viltry。
“Another one！” the loader shouted； looking at an auspex repeater。
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Viltry swung around again。 It was coming in much lower。 He wasn’t going to get anything like
as good a lead on this shot。 He fired anyway； washing the turret back and forth to extend the cone；
an old tail…gunner’s trick。
All of it missed； but the raking fire restricted the Talon’s line of attack； and it flew straight into
sustained fire from a Hydra。 The moment the four long…barrelled autocannons of the Hydra found
the enemy machine； the targeter system took over and held the guns right on it。 On powered
traverse； the Hydra managed to maintain heavy hits for over one hundred and five degrees of turn。
The Talon began to climb and then blew up in a ragged yellow flash； raining debris down over the
river and road。
After that； no more raiders came down the valley for a while。 LeGuin shook Viltry by the hand。
Viltry was breathing hard； pulse racing。 For the first time since G for Greta had been brought
down； he felt as if he had a purpose。 A worth。 He’d helped keep the bridge clear。
The feeling tasted a little like the confidence he’d been slowly winning back on Enothis。 The
reassurance of a point to life that Beqa Mayer’s company had begun to coax back into him。
The crash had torn that confidence away； of course。 But now he felt oddly centred。 War claimed
men。 They died。 Machines crashed。 Leaders； like Viltry； felt guilt and remorse。 It would ever be the
way； for in the galaxy of man； there is only war。
For one tiny but valuable moment； sitting there in the Executioner’s turret； surrounded by the
cheering and bellowing of men he hardly knew； Viltry realised that guilt and remorse would truly be
his to bear if he didn’t make the effort to live。 To live； to fight the foes of man； and to make his way
back to find the woman who had shown kindness to a stranger。
The column began to move again。 The rain grew heavier； and they pulled the hatches shut。 The
valley ahead was an ashen； dispirited place； and there was a great distance to go before they reached
the cities； far away； where the skies were already banded with black fire…smoke。
Lake Gocel FSB； 19。12
In the space of about thirty hours； their alarm bracelets had fired eighteen times。 With jarring
regularity； they were stirred from exercise； prep； sleep； meals and standby in order to rush to the
shelters as enemy formations passed through their airspace。 Each period of waiting in the gloom of
the dug…outs did nothing to soothe already stretched nerves。 There was a fight between two Navy
fitters and some PDF troopers； and a face…to…face row between Ranfre and one of the Raptor pilots；
which was only defused by the calm intervention of Milan Blansher。
The worst argument occurred between Jagdea and Blaguer。 The FSB had lofted only three snap
calls in the period； and for the rest of the time it had hidden under its camo at the first sign of an
alert。
“What possible good are we doing？” she was heard shouting。
Blaguer’s argument； supported by Marcinon and the leader of the Lightning wing； was that
Gocel FSB was under…strength as an intercept force and should therefore pick its targets。 Seven of
the alerts had been triggered by mass…raid formations of bombers； three or four hundred machines
strong； passing north towards the coast。 Gocel’s three wings would barely make a dent in such
formidable numbers； and launches would betray the base’s carefully concealed location。 There was
no doubt that a mass…raid force would spare a bomber pack to annihilate the source of the ambushers
if it was discovered。
“Better to stay low； observe concealment discipline； and only respond to targets we can deal
with safely；” Blaguer told her。
“But in another day or two； there’ll be so many bats up there we won’t be flying at all。 We’re
supposed to be intercept； so let’s damn well intercept something。”
“You’re talking about a wilful and suicidal approach to the prosecution of this conflict。”
“I’m talking；” growled Jagdea； “about fighting this war instead of sitting it out。”
109
Late in the afternoon； the fourth sortie of the day was permitted。 Coastal Operations had
requested urgent data…gathering from its FSBs along the Saroja。 There was a pressing need to assess
the disposition of inbound retreat elements so the Munitorum could more effectively accomplish the
mass land evacuation； an operation already beginning at Ezraville and Theda。 Operations also hoped
to locate one or more of the enemy land carriers。 Given the terrible stren