OUTCASTS

Shamir loped ahead of the column, keeping them within his hearing, while his other senses swept out before him. Not far from the former compound, the column halted, and four tracs wheeled silently from their places to follow the younger lion.

There was no time for word, or send, as the rest moved on slowly into the first light of morning. Rocar's command had less than an hour to reach their fallback position before daylight would betray their movement.

For Shamir, his mission was of equal urgency. The trac that Lollo guided was behind him, and carried the wounded. Rocar's field hospital had reached its limits, and now Shazi would have to take over if the refugees were to recover. The other tracs held something as equally precious. His brother's meticulous planning had included the additional medical supplies that the resistance so sorely needed. Their small group could travel faster thru the forests beyond the city, and reach the tunnels without being seen. Both lions knew that the greatest danger was exposure, and a full column simply being swallowed whole would be like a flaming arrow, even to the dull Simians.

Inside the lead trac, Lollo watched Shalmira with admiration. The female raccoon was quiet and capable. Driving a trac was a lot of work, and the female ringtail made it look easy. Lollo's send of directions was needed only once, and the diamond of tracs followed the way toward the tunnel entrance as surely as if four friends floated thru the woodland.

The trees thickened now, and the tracs slowed, seemingly faced with stands of trees so thick that even the armored vehicle could move only slightly between them.

In the communications center, far below, and many stadia distant, Shamir's familiar send stuck anxious minds like the clear sound of a ringing bell. The small forest bound group had been still only a few moments when Lollo could sense small groups of fur bearers melting thru the trees toward them.

Thru the view port, Shalmira watched as each small knot of them took hold of one tree each and moved them out of the way!!

The space that opened before them seemed to be an old mine shaft. but this one was cut from the native rock, polished and symmetrical, and aglow with light from within!

Inside the trac, Shalmira sat back in her seat, open muzzled in amazement!

Lollo Smiled. The trees are real, wrapped, rooted and fed from below. We can move them for short periods, like this one. We'd better move on in.

Shalmira nodded, dumbfounded, and juiced the induces. As the last of the four precious vehicles floated in and down the warmly lit tunnel, the forest fur bearers stayed behind. As if by magick, the trees were replaced, and within two minutes of the full sunrise, even the birds never knew the difference!

Shamir was surprised to see Shomron, Aurora, and Krista waiting for him as the junior Lion loped into the expanse of the underground depot. It came as no surprise amid the warm nuzzles of reunion to see Krista climb up on the lead trac without ceremony dive thru the top hatch!

There was a mix of odd sounds, and after a moment, Shalmira popped out of the forward hatch of the trac, slight ruffled, and smiling broadly!

My tailfur. I'm not sure what, or who that was. But churrrrrrrr! Shalmira's vocalization was unique to the ringtail species, and was toned with a mixture of both envy and admiration.

Aurora smiled, and excused herself, to lead the party unloading the wounded. Shalmira dismounted and followed, because she knew the comforting effect a ringtail muzzle would have on them in a strange place and time.

Seeing that Lollo and Krista seem a bit busy. Shomron said to Shamir, Can you take charge of the supply detail? Shomron asked.

Shamir nodded, smiling in the direction of the lead trac, that was now rocking back and forth, ever so slightly! I'll set up a line of runners to the hospital. Shamir replied. Shazi will be glad for the supplies. and some I know may need them!

Shomron smiled, and it became a broad grin at the cooing sounds that issued freely from inside the trac!

As the disc of the sun came full over the horizon, Rocar's command lay entrenched on the thickly wooded hilltop. Their leader had chosen this ground well. If the Simians mounted any attack, theirs would be a steep uphill fight. The peak was well chosen for another reason The surrounding hills offered no refuge for Simian artillery. He had drawn a large number of mortars from the Simian armory, and with good reason. The reverse slope of the hill was wonderful ground for the smooth tubes. Within an hour, Rocar's mortar pits could rain short and medium range fire on anything that approached from any point on the compass. Rocar went to the lead pit and helped benchmark the mortars. Their fields of fire also overlapped a broad area of the dense forest below, and with a simple change of azimuth, could direct fire into and thru the woods on the flanks of the hill.

As Nachtoter and Slasher oversaw the last of the defensive fortifications, one smaller party, of a single cohort, stood ready for patrol. Rocar took their report of readiness and gave them their orders.

Your mission is secret. Avoid combat unless attacked, and do not engage the enemy unless you have a Tactical advantage. Consider yourselves from this moment on to be in a state of war, Understood? Rocar sent to the leopard who was senior in the cohort.

Understood, Preator!

If you locate signs of unusual activity, such as construction, or the movement of convoys of supplies or Simians, your mission is to return alive with the report, Understood, Centurion Mirika?

The clouded cat was somewhat taken aback. A moment before, he had been a Lancer!

By your Command, my Praetor, and Thank you!

Thank those in your cohort, they recommended you. Keep well their trust. Justice and Peace. Rocar sent with a smile.

The entire cohort saluted and melted down the hillside, out of sight.

The underground tunnels were filled with happy sends and cheered voices, as The line of runners emptied each of the tracs, and bore their prizes down the long central corridor that led to the hospital. Cases of medicine, of every sort and kind, dressings, splints and scanners. For Shazi and his staff, the supplies were the best and finest of gifts. There would have been more time for rejoicing if fewer had been in need, so their happiness lasted them long enough to store each case, and then return to the mounting task they faced.

Crystal never thought that opening a packet of gauze could be so much fun!

The Simian command building was alive with traffic, as groups of officers choked the wide marble hallways. Many of these same Simian ears heard the roaring tirade that was barely hushed by the great wooden doors.

The Tapestry beneath Ku Minn Li's feet was as red as fresh blood. The Simian warrior stood silent and stoic, absorbing wave after wave of abuse from his commanding general. The warrior knew that before the tirade was spent, rivers of the same colour might flow across the cold, stark marble floor. The only question was whose blood would next shade the soaking tapestry.

The late Shan Kar failed me. I grow tired of failure and incompetence, So I shall turn all Important State posts over to Ranking Officers of the Army, for the duration of this emergency.

The general paused to sheath his bloodstained sword, and to allow two cowering Simian orderlies to drag the decapitated body from the office. One of the two belatedly returned for the topmost portion, which still wore a shocked expression. Once the door was closed again, the tirade continued, its fury unabated.

SUMMON CENTURION LI KU! the irate general bellowed, as the great marbled room seemed to tremble in fear of the great mass of angry Simian.

Another large Simian calmly made his way thru the great wooden doors, moving both of them as if they had no weight at all. The large Simian soldier ignored the cloying, sticky wetness that died his sandals red as he drew near to his Leader, and saluted smartly, his eyes showing no trace of unease.

You were Shan Kar's leasion officer, Yes?

I have that duty My Leader. The Simian replied evenly.

Your late associate seems to have lost his head. You are now head of Internal Security! The Simian Dictator growled.

And your Orders, My Leader?

Shan Kar was soft and sloppy in his duty and his thinking. I expect you to track down the Leaders of this Plague, by any wiles you may have. Bring them to me. Alive, or their will be two caskets at the next State Funeral, understood?

Clearly, My Leader. There seems to be a small problem, not of my making.

PROBLEM?

Yes, Leader. I have discovered, in the past few Hours that your thoughts of Shan Kar are more than correct.

How so, asked the Simian ruler, his anger defused for a moment by the new head of Internal Security.

It seems that Shan Kar, the Late Shan Kar-- Failed to report certain. deficiencies. that have been brought to light by my searches.

Speak plainly, or I'll kill you for annoying me.

As you would, My Leader. It seems that many of our operatives have not reported. some for several days. It appears that they may have been. Expended.

Killed by Fur bearers? the Simian general snapped

I do not know, My Leader. That information was lost with Shan Kar's head, I fear.

Meaning?

I may require certain military personnel to conduct the operations you request.

Do not bother me with details. Only results will spare you from the fate of your predecessor, Understood?

Understood, My Leader!

Shazi's relief was short lived, as he watched a more sober column of stretcher bearers moving quickly thru the long corridor. He was thankful that so many fur bearers had medical training as a part of their military servitude. There were now, for the first time in nearly two days, both staff enough and medicine enough for each patient.

Once the word had spread amongst the raccoon's that their fellows were in need, their response had been both quick and generous. Their was plenty of blood and donors, and even more caring masked muzzles to make convalescing easier. But that was not true for all of them. Shazi's tired eyes fell upon the Skiltaire from across the ward, and years dissolved as quickly as his tiredness mounted!

Takagi? He wondered aloud in disbelief. Shamir stood silent and sullen at the motionless Skiltaire's bedside.

The younger cat nodded, suddenly feeling a weight he could not understand. Shazi looked at Shamir with concern, and then back at Takagi. Shamir could see time roll backwards in the otter's eyes as he looked upon his long unseen friend.

Rocar's warriors rescued him from the Simians before they could. Shamir stopped both word and thought, both too sad for him to think upon anymore. Komar had to use slo-time. Rocar healed Takagi all by himself. It was wonderful. But he has never stirred. Shamir explained, quietly.

Shazi nodded. That's the drug. If Takagi was on this, then all the energy to heal him.

Came from Rocar. Shamir finished. I've never heard of Solo healing. I thought it took to much energy. Shamir added.

That brother of yours. Shazi spoke with quiet admiration as he examined Takagi's nearly comatose form.

Heartbeat two a minute, and weak, but steady. Respiration the same. That warrior doctor knows his craft, let me tell you. The dosage is perfect. You only get one chance with this drug. Shazi reflected.

Will he be all right?

I can't say for certain, Lad. He isn't dying anymore, your brother saw to that. But-

What is it. Shazi?

Well, my boy, there's a point at which the will to live is more important than the body. Takagi has nearly one hundred years on all of us, Even Khai Sharda. He may have just decided that it's his time. We won't know for sure for a day or so, until the dose of the drug is thru his system. Shazi told the young cat.

And Then?

Then, It's up to Takagi, Shamir. Clinically, there's nothing more I can do.

Shamir paused, a great wrenching pain deep inside him. Then he had an idea. Or was it a hope.

I think I know of something I can do. the youthful Lion said quietly.

With an urgency in his eyes that Shazi had never seen before, Shamir turned and left the hospital ward. Shazi saw him thru the doors, as the young Lion sprinted down an adjoining corridor, toward his father's workroom.

Father?

Shalimar turned suddenly, his concentration broken. Around the room, three chalks fell to the floor and broke, as the elder Lion made a Pouncing leap for his youngest son!

They nuzzled deeply, and Shamir was surprised to see tears in his father's eyes!

My Shamir! I'm so glad you. Shalimar found himself unable to continue, as he wept!

Shamir Nuzzled his father again, Lick-grooming away his tears. Father. I need you.

I'm Here, My Son.

Shamir steeled himself, and thought quickly, trying to reduce the pain. Khai Takagi is here. Druged. He has no more will. Shazi says.

The name and the send staggered Shalimar into sitting down heavily where he stood. Shamir could see a lifetime flash thru his Father's eyes in the space of a single breath.

It took great physical effort for Shalimar to stand, and square himself. Lead on. Shalimar thought to his second son. The quiet dread and cold fear in his Father's thought frightened the younger lion as the pair loped down the corridor, shoulder to shoulder.

Shazi worked quickly and effectively, pouring his boundless energy into his work. Most of the raccoons were in no danger, thanks to the excellent care of Rocar's field hospital. With a renewed hope and replenished supplies, Shazi was able to treat a dozen of them in as near as many minutes. All but four of the ringtail refugees lay deep in a natural healing sleep as Shazi and Shalmira met over one of the last four beds.

These are the worst of them, Doctor. According to what little they can send, and what Rocar sent to me, these four were nearly beaten to death by a cohort of Simian soldiers.

Shazi's whistling curse left a blue steak in the silent air of the ward. He took the scanner from his belt, and passed it quickly over each bed.

Broken leg. Nasty. Broken pelvis. It can wait. Dislocated hip. Lacerated spleen. oh my. This one's next. lend a paw. Shazi instructed.

Shalmira nodded, and allowed Shazi to place her dainty paws precisely on the injured gray black body. He was a male raccoon, whose well toned body showed heavy bruising. Shalmira forced herself to take her eyes from his body, and focus on the healing at paw. Shazi crossed to the other side of the same bed and touched a paw to the critically injured raccoon's forehead.

Ready? Shazi asked.

Shalmira nodded, and focused her mind, until she could feel her paws grow warmer against the Male's body, then she relaxed, into a light trance and let the energy flow thru her. Across from Shalmira, Shazi conducted, guiding the combined energies within the body to where they were most needed. He felt the Male ringtail's pulse rise until it was a steady pounding beneath his paw on the raccoon forehead. Shazi also heard his patient's breathing rise, and felt the previously limp body tighten, as the increase in energy flexed muscles in the ringtail's body.

Shazi could see the damage now, as his mind opened the body more cleanly than any cutting tool. The healing energy touched the injury at the same instant, as the Raccoon's natural healing powers accelerated.

Shalmira could feel the strength in his body rally. He was a construct, and a heavy one. That rugged body had held onto his life, and now saved it as the torn organ sealed itself, first in energy and then in tissue, as his body healed at first ten and more times normal speed.

A few more seconds of the same energy eliminated shed blood and spilled bile from the Raccoon's body cavity. The two healers had done in two minutes what might have required surgery and two months of recovery.

But Shalmira's body had been taxed beyond its limits. Her eyes fluttered open, and then rolled back. She collapsed forward, onto the same bed, muzzle first, in a dead faint!

Shazi wavered as well, and the elder otter stepped back and collapsed onto the last empty bed in the row, completely spent.

Crystal came flowing down the corridor at an easy lope. With the infusion of supplies, some things became less urgent, but Shazi was still medical offer in chief, and his ability and skill decided the close ones that no one else could handle. She stopped dead in her swift tracks at the doorway of the ward!

Moving as swiftly as a cheetah could, she swept up a box of small ampoules, ripping into them as she moved. Almost before she could draw her next worried breath, she held one crushed ampoule in each paw, and one paw each under a pair of muzzles!

Shazi coughed, convulsed lightly and cursed, shoving the noxious fumes and the paw that held them from under his muzzle. As his vision returned to normal, he saw Crystal's worried expression, and Shalmira's nearly limp form.

The she raccoon responded more slowly to the fumes, but after a moment, she sat up with a light gasp, her head shaking.

Are you all right, both of you? Crystal asked.

I was fine, until the ammonia treatment. Thank you. Shazi disguised gratitude was accented by another cough.

Did we. Oh. I'm sorry. I'm just so Tired. Shalmira sighed.

Who heals the healers? Crystal asked both of them with sympathy.

Shazi stood up from the bed, his moment of weakness forgotten. When his short legs touched the stone floor, he was every otterish inch the doctor in charge again. Crystal, put Shalmira in this bed. Now!

Crystal snapped to, sweeping the smaller raccoon off her paws, and before the surprised, masked muzzle could utter a word of protest, Shalmira was tucked into the soft sheets!

She began to protest, but her tired body stole her voice away into a soft, sweet sleep!

Crystal turned and quietly sent to Shazi I nearly forgot what brought me up here. One of the wounded Raccoons in the next ward is awake, and quite active. He will not speak to me and sends that he demands to speak to you, and you alone. Crystal thought at the otter.

Demands, does he? Shazi thought back. I'm the only one that demands anything in my hospital. We'll see about this. Take me to him!

Crystal nodded, gritting her teeth as she walked beside Shazi, and braced for another explosion of a different sort!!

He paced the ward impatiently, his short stature doubled and redoubled by his growing anger. When The cheetah girl returned with the otter in tow, the raccoon wasted not a breath or thought, but strode up the otter with his hands clapped behind his back, and his entire ring-tailed form a bottle brush of annoyance.

You! Otter! Get me your ranking Officer. At Once, do you hear? the raccoon finished the brusque thought and turned to continue his rapid stalking pace on the cold stone floor. He glanced up again after a moment, and saw the otter standing immobile, and passive, His short arms folded heavily across his chest!

You may go. NOW! The raccoon thought at the Mustelid with a snap that Crystal could feel as it vibrated the air between them. Beside her, Shazi was silent and seething!

Now see here, you pushy masked insignificance! Shazi erupted.

I have no time for your prattle, Doctor. Stand aside. I'll find him myself! The ringtail barked as he tried to push his way between the otter and the Cheetah. The otter stood his ground, unmoving. The ringtail gave the taller otter a sharp shove--

Crystal gasped and looked away, quickly!

Crystal heard sounds of a scuffle, with two muffled grunts! She decided to risk a look, and saw Shazi sitting nonchalantly on the fallen Ringtail's back, while in front, the masked Muzzle turned the air crimson with curses!!

Now, Now! Shazi whistled, My patients usually save that for when I give them my bill. And unless you want to be put in traction for a month, you will calm down.

Shazi looked offhandedly at Crystal. Who is this loud one, anyway?

Crystal knelt, non threateningly near the pinned raccoon's head. I don't know. He never did say. But He's too handsome for such language. Crystal added an Ear scritch to the remark that melted the raccoon and his anger faster than any sedative!

The otter arched his back, and looked upside down into the raccoon's eyes. Mind your manners. She could give you a massage, or an enema. Take your choice. Shazi told him plainly.

Beneath him, The raccoon's body went nearly limp!

I Stumbled. The Raccoon Stammered. I am Charow. Doctor of Engineering. I must see your commanding officer. Let me up. Please?

Shazi cast the Raccoon a suspicious eye, and the otter rose. I was uncomfortable. You're lumpy! Shazi said, brushing himself off.

Charow ignored him, speaking to Crystal Instead. You Know of the Space craft? The raccoon asked.

The look in Crystal's eyes was answer enough.

Good! Now. Your Commanding Officer. Hurry,Please? Charow asked again, nicely. Tho he was accustomed to doing neither.

Crystal turned and led him out of the Hospital ward, to a safe distance from Shazi, and the two of them bolted up the corridor!

The cohort moved by span thru the woodland. Each warriors mind an extension of the whole group. They pressed flat against the trees as they moved in a walk that was also a half turn of forward motion as their bodies rolled off the densely packed trees of the forest. The party had two advantages. Many of them had been born in these trees, so the ground was known to them. It also gave them to know where their quarry was not. No sound was out of place, from the insects to the night birds, all was at peace.

The movement had searched the ruined Nexis, and the flatlands of the city. No traces of major construction had been found. So it came as no surprise to their linked mind when Mirika made point south, toward the broad flatlands, broken only by the passage of the rivers that fingered down from the lakes high in the mountains. The redoubtable leopard had picked this path for a reason. Working metal required water, and flowing water was better. The Island was also less populated in it's southern half. Construction, even if it be under ground, was loud, so it had to be placed as far from prying ears as prying eyes. They would divide their sweep by night, laying up in the daytime, so as not to be seen. This cohort was formed of the lightest and the fastest fur bearers in Rocar's command. Before the same hour tomorrow night, they could comb the southern half of the Island, and be on their way home again. If Mirika was wrong, there was only one quadrant left. If he was right, and something in his neckfur told him he was, by sunrise tomorrow, he and his cohort would be very happy, and in grave danger.

The Simian watch commander read the dispatch, and then read it again, more shocked and disbelieving. He called the captain of the patrol who had made the report, and threatened to flog him if the report was wrong by so much as a word. By the time another patrol could be diverted, it was almost mid morning. The second set of reports were sent back by runner as well as along the dataflows. The leader of the first patrol was released to return unscathed to his duties. The watch commander put the reports and the data dots into a special pouch, and sent it with a messenger under guard to head quarters, as regulations proscribed. The lower level Simian could only hope that those in higher authority would be too busy blaming each another to have him killed, or his men. After all, he was a common soldier. The disappearance of three legions was something he could not order, let alone understand.

Crystal padded into the command center with Charow in tow. Both Vladimir and Shomron looked up, a moment's suspicion wiped away by Crystal's smile.

I must speak with you. Alone and at once. Charow said brusquely, not bothering to wait for introductions this time.

We were going to lunch. And Vladimir is my Number Two. You'll talk to both. Or to no one. Shomron replied shortly.

Oh, very well!! Charow snapped. I have little time, and you have even less.

Is that a Threat?

Charow chafed, visably. The only Threat is from the Simians, Tall one. Or is saving two worlds instead of one not on your agenda?

Let's hear him out, Shomron. Vladimir said.

Charow smiled. Trust the only other star-faring race to have common sense! Here it is, in small, short words, so even the Tall one can understand it. My People. Your Hospital. We Built the Star craft. Simians. Liftoff. Invasion. Two Days from now. UNDERSTAND?! Char's tone was less patronizing, and more desperate toward the end.

Suddenly, lunch were forgotten.

Aurora was finishing the last of the blood classes when the cold thought hit her. The tube she held slipped from her paws. Before she could see it shatter on the floor, she was flying down the corridors as if the lives of two worlds depended on it.

You're certain? Shomron asked.

Shortfur! And this is your leader? We're in trouble!! Charow snapped. Two days ago, at the end of shift, instead of taking us back to the prison, they put us on tracs and took us to the Military headquarters. I made the readiness report myself. I heard the orders given. I knew there was something wrong when they herded us out of the building on foot, and toward the Nexis. Charow recalled.

You heard the wrong thing. Vladimir observed.

Charow nodded. Our usefulness was ended, and so were we to be. The Raccoon responded. If it hadn't been for that lion. He saved us. I just hope we can do the same for whatever world these Simians find.

Have no fear.

Charow looked over at the source of the interjection. Another Skiltaire. quite female, and with fire in her eyes. Things were improving, and quickly!

We'll get a message to that Lion right away. Shomron answered. We have been looking for the ship for the last few Hours. All we know now is where it isn't.

Charow snatched up a pencil and overlay paper from the command table. Aurora pulled the Map over to him. One quick dash of a pencil instantly changed history.

Now. Charow answered triumphantly, handing the overlay to Vladimir. You know where she IS.

Shomron Looked at Vladimir. The Cat started to send, but then stopped. He could practically feel the radiant power of Vladimir's send filling the Underground complex!

The send touched Shalimar first and then Shamir. Both Cats stopped as if a wall had sprung up before them. Shamir looked oddly at his Father, Shalimar was quite torn for a long and painful moment.

You say Takagi is drugged?

Yes, Father.

Shalimar looked toward the hospital. The corridor had never seemed so long.

Forgive me, Old Friend. Shalimar whispered painfully.

He would understand Father. In fact, He would tell you to go if he knew. Shamir said.

Shalimar looked away, and sprang quickly up the other side of the forked tunnel. Shamir waited one step, and followed, racing up the corridor behind his Father, as fast as the young lion could run!

Lollo and Krista were jarred out of a deep cuddle by a send that stood Lollo's neckfur on end. The Male wolverine watched the look of shock, delight and concern play across his mate's muzzle. Very few thing could dim Krista's romantic ardor, but this was one of them. The Mustelid pair unwrapped from one another, each handing the other belt and vest. They shared a quick nuzzle, and then bolted for the door.

Vladimir's send had not been a general broadcast, simply a tight beam to a few selected minds.

Well? Charow snapped What are you waiting for? A chartered invitation from the Simian army?

Moving too quickly would aid the Simians, and hinder us. Vladimir interjected. We need to know more.

Charow nodded, somewhat mollified. I'll tell you anything I can.

Good! Chirped Vladimir. This area. How well guarded is it?

I saw hundreds of Simians, but I'll wager they are the invasion force. We were never closely guarded. I never saw more that a dozen of them standing around, but then again, I have no idea what they might have beyond the hanger itself.

The Simian mania for security works again. Vladimir said. The more guards they have, the quicker the secret gets out.

I know this area. Shomron said, matching the overlay to the map. That area of the Southern quadrant is all lowlands, that turn into swamp near the Silver River Delta.

Yes. Charow agreed. We had to design an air re-circulation system for their underground complex to keep out the insects and the drainage. That area has only one advantage for the Simians. Charow added. If the ship were to blow up, no one for miles around would be hurt.

Or be able to walk out if they survived. Shomron said.

We'll need to know everything you heard or saw, no matter how slight or insignificant it might seem to you. Vladimir told Charow.

The ringtail engineer smiled slightly. Have you enough paper? He asked.

Vladimir smiled and tossed a thick pad across the table in front of Charow. The raccoon looked up and smiled. Good start! the masked fur bearer said, the pencil he held already moving.

The trac closed on the white walls of the compound slowly. The Simian driver could see that something was wrong at once. The ramparts were bare of sentries, and the heavy cannon emplacement was deserted. A message came cross the datalink to the trac from the command car just behind it.

Report.

No contact. See no one. All gone.

Open the gate. Came the order

The Simian driver touched a button. The loudspeaker of the trac gave out a high pitched whine. He waited. His only answer was the wind.

OPEN THE GATE! repeated the annoyed hologram.

Send Signal. The Simian grunted. No answer. They all gone says I.

Blast it open! The centurion barked.

The command car drew up beside the trac and waited.

The Simian driver reached over and tapped his gunner on the helmet.

The smoothbore cannon on the trac belched fire, and a shell struck the gate at point blank range. and ricocheted off of it detonating in the air between the trac and the gate, spraying the command car with light shrapnel that caromed off the tracs heavy frontal armor. When the haze from the blast lifted, the gate of the stockade disclosed only a large dent!

You Idiot! The Centurion raged. If you don't open the gate, we will use you as a battering ram. Use a heavier round. Or Next time, you will be strapped over the muzzle!

The Simian driver reached out, smashing his ham sized fist down hard onto his gunner's helmet!

Now that the dent in his armor matched the one in their target, the Simian gunner used both hands to load a shell nearly as large as he was into the breach of the trac's cannon.

When the Gunner was ready, he growled, as much from the blood dripping from his ear as frustration.

There was another tap, gentler this time, and as the gun roared, the entire trac lurched backwards!

The compound's main gate flew away in twisted and smoking pieces, as if the wind had scattered a pile of burning leaves. Amid this great sound and wreckage, the Trac rolled ahead slowly, into the silent and debris filled parade ground.

The paul of haze hung silently within the walls of the former citadel as the command car rolled ahead, an inch at a time, to sit next to the trac. The only thing that grated the Simian ears was a heavy silence.

The Simian Centurion seemed to boil out of the command car like lava from the cone of a volcano. He beat hard with both mailed fists on the forward hatch of the trac, and waited as the commander of the trac joined him.

They walked across the compound, strewn a it was with bits of hot metal, and the flotsam and jetsam of the abandoned post.

One by one, they found the bunkers empty, as if the whole contents of them had simply ceased to exist, save for a few scraps of rubbish. From the command bunker, to the garrison rooms, to the hospital, it was as if two thousand Fur Bearers had simply vanished from the face of time itself. The only obvious trail on the otherwise littered ground led in the direction of the ammunition bunker.

The pair of Simians followed it without thinking, vanishing for a moment under ground. The room was wide and still, as silent and haunting as the others had been. But this one was not quite bereft of contents. Two sets of Simian eyes first fell along a length of wire partly buried in the soft floor. The Centurion traced it by pulling softly, and saw where it led.

In the center of the room, two blankets fell away as the wire was pulled, revealing two large square blocks, each as tall and thick on a side as one of the Simians. On top of one block, there was a smaller box, with two slowly flashing lights. As the blankets fell away, the smaller box began to make a sharp whistling sound that built in pitch as the lights flashed faster and faster.

In the compound above, the command car driver heard the sound, and instinct took over. He ducked down into the command car and jammed the switch that changed the polarity of the magna jets on the light vehicle. He stomped his foot, sending the command car swiftly backward! But his aim was as bad as his last bit of luck.

The command car struck the side of the gatepost and bounced back sideways against the trac, as the Centurion, the bunker, the Trac, and in a split second, the overturned command car were all engulfed in what seemed to be, to vaporizing eyeballs, the Heat and light of the sun itself!

The detonation seemed a thunderclap that rolled across the land, in defiance of the greater storm beyond it.

As Rocar stood with his officers on the high hill, watching thru the smoked glass of the sentries telescope, Rocar noticed Slasher stir, as if ill at ease.

What is it, Slasher? Rocar asked directly.

Sir! I.--

Speak, It is well. Rocar coaxed.

I beg to report that I am responsible for the loss to this command of some vital supplies.

What supplies, Slasher?

Two blocks of Mercury Fulminate, Sir. Each weighing Five hundred Talents. I present myself for your punishment, My Praetor. Slasher said resolutely.

Rocar glanced backward, and saw a bright fireball consume the last traces of the walls of their former fortifications.

No, Slasher. You did not loose them. I know where they are! Rocar replied easily.

Slasher thought he could just see the barest traces of a smile play across his Commandant's muzzle!

Then Rocar looked back at his officer. Place yourself on report at once. No fruit or cheese with dinner rations for two days. Rocar told Slasher.

By your command, my Praetor! Slasher replied as the two cats shared a knowing smile.