couldn’t see me. I had plenty of cover.”
“They knew where you were. I could see it. They had every gun trained on the same position.”
“They had a general idea. Just a general idea. I was surrounded by leaves.”
“How many hits did your armor have to absorb?”
Purvali lowered her eyes.
“How many?”
“I quit when it told me it was approaching its limit.”
“Two more hits! Two more. That’s all it would have taken! Two hits. And you’d be in their power right now.”
“I hit their fuel tank, Sabor. They’re sending the copter back! We won’t have to worry about airlifts and air attacks. I evaluated the situation and balanced the risks—the danger they might capture me versus the danger we’d be in if they kept the copters in the area. I was the one who was there. I could see I was in a good position.”
Sabor returned his attention to his display. Purvali’s pleading face disappeared behind the three segments of his montage. The scout bird was fluttering through the upper reaches of the trees and picking up glimpses of the force gathering behind them. Choy’s map showed him the positions of their cats and the estimated positions of their adversaries.
The members of the Benjori Hunt were riding up to their home dock with their mounts pressed into a tight, two-file formation. Four servants were waiting for them behind a table crowded with glasses and champagne bottles.
“I suspect an analysis of our situation may be in order,” Sabor said. “How much time do we have before Colonel Jina’s bravos wear down our defenses with their unsporting superior numbers?”
Purvali focused on the images floating in front of her eyes. Concentration nullified the emotions that had been playing across her face.
“Our rest stops are our biggest problem,” Purvali said. “We can stay ahead of them indefinitely. But they can catch up at our rest stops. And whittle away our defenses. The big variable is Choy’s maneuvers with the cats. And the kind of luck he has.”
Sabor skimmed the report she had placed on his display. The widemounts were faster but Colonel Jina’s hardbodies had more endurance and the feedback from the sensors indicated they had ended up with six armed men supported by seven cats. They could stay on the trail indefinitely, close the gap at each rest stop, and concentrate their extra numbers on one or two cats at each stop. They could launch a final, irresistible onslaught as soon as they eliminated three or four of the guard cats.
“Colonel Jina tends to be a thrifty tactician,” Purvali said. “I think we can be confident he won’t launch a direct attack on our moving fortresses until he’s thinned out our cats. We have to make sure he understands we’re willing to kill his cats, Choy. He has to know he’s going to lose some valuable assets if he attacks us too early.”
A new set of simulations raced across the display. A diamond representing a figure with a gun entered the fray. The diamond darted through the woods with all the speed a certain very familiar woman could muster. A note at the bottom of the display reported the results. In 527 simulations, the addition of the extra combatant had added three extra march periods, on average, to the length of time they could stave off the inevitable.
“And how many times did our little diamond get captured?” Sabor asked.
“Almost none. I can break off combat any time the odds get too rough.”
“But will you, my dear? Will the real life, vulnerable human being always have the good sense to retreat?”
“You’re fighting for your freedom, Sabor. For your control over your own mind.”
“And how free will I be if they take you hostage? You may not believe it, but if Kenzan Khan gets you in his unpleasant clutches, he’ll have all the influence over my actions he could possibly desire.”
The hunters of the Benjori Hunt chattered and gestured as they downed their champagne and bundled off the pier. They isolated themselves in private changing rooms and entered their dockside banquet hall in ceremonial costumes that draped them in white and red.
Colonel Jina’s hunters were much more businesslike. Choy was monitoring them electronically, with supplemental glimpses from his visual scouts. On the map on Sabor’s display, the hardbodies steadily fell behind but their speed never slackened. When Choy called for the first halt, the hardbodies were a little over one kilometer behind—about ten minutes marching time at their current speed. Choy deployed the cats in a defensive formation and Sabor watched the hardbody symbols move relentlessly forward.
“They’re speeding up for the assault,” Purvali said. “They’re really driving themselves. Possessor Khan must be paying Colonel Jina something extra if the colonel’s willing to inflict that kind of stress on his cadre.”
The hardbodies and their cats followed the script predicted by Purvali’s simulations. They concentrated three cats and four hardbodies on the cat at the extreme left of Choy’s defensive line. Choy was faced with a classic dilemma. If the outnumbered cat held its position, it could be eliminated. If Choy pulled it back, the assault force could sweep around the flank and strike directly at the widemounts and their passengers. Choy responded by ordering two cats to the defense of the animal under attack. His other cats extended their line and took up defensive positions.
Sabor resisted the temptation to damp his stress reactions as he watched the tactical exhibition on his display. He knew he needed all the alertness his brain could muster. Visuals from the aerial scouts offered him flashes of the real life violence hidden under the symbols moving across the map. Cats leaped on other cats from ambush and disengaged after a flurry of bites and slashes. Hardbodies slipped through the forest with their guns searching for targets.
Sabor’s widemount was demolishing a bush that was covered with thick leaves and dangling pods. The other widemounts were gorging on the local vegetation with the same concentration. Choy had thoughtfully placed a time strip on the map display, so Sabor could see how many minutes they had to wait before the rest stop ended.
Sabor decided to intervene when the countdown reached ninety seconds. “I think we should go now, Choy—if you feel you’re in a position in which disengagement looks feasible.”
Sabor’s widemount raised its head from the bush. A huge snort jostled its frame. It turned away from its chosen collation and lumbered toward its place behind Choy’s mount.
On the map display, Choy conducted a fighting disengagement that drew a flurry of claps from Sabor’s hands. Colonel Jina’s cats abandoned the fight and settled into their walking pace the instant it became obvious they had done all the harm they could for the moment.
“Those people know what they’re doing,” Choy said. “They didn’t waste a calorie.”
“You’re doing a rather impressive job yourself, Choy.”
“We’ve got two cats that took a mauling. I may have to sacrifice one of them at the next stop.”
The hunters of the Benjori Hunt were sampling the fruits and dessert wines that had been arranged along the table. The camera drifted down the hall and Sabor saw Avaming busying himself with his food while the women on both sides of him chatted with other partners.
