Fufu’s oculars, plus both pairs of antennae, snapped erect.
“What did he say?”
“He wants you to lie down and play dead,” Retief explained.
“A Jackoo lie down? He must be having us on,” the great creature honked. “Once a Jackoo is off his wheels, he’s—well, I shouldn’t noise this about, but since we’re allies now—”
“I know; he can’t get up again.”
“Well?” the Voion colonel shrilled. “You have exactly one minute to do as you’re told, or my troops will fire the underbrush and burn you and your village into slag!”
“These huts of yours; they burn pretty well, don’t they, Fufu?” Retief inquired.
“Well, we do use magnesium-bearing leaves for our roofs; they’re light and easy to manage.”
“What we going do now, Tief-tief?” Jik-jik demanded. “Them salesmen means business.”
“They’ve formed up a nice envelopment all the way around our position,” Retief said. “And they have all the strategic advantages. That leaves it up to us to score a tactical victory.”
“What them words mean?” a Ween demanded.
“They mean the Voion have us outnumbered, outgunned, and outflanked; so we’ll have to beat the wheels off them in a fashion they’re not expecting.”
“How we going do that?”
“Just follow my lead.”
“I’m waiting!” the Voion screeched.
“Just be patient another ten seconds,” Retief said soothingly.
The glow of approaching Jooprise was bright in the east; abruptly the fast-moving body leaped into view, a vivid edge of greenish light that swelled into a white glare as the great disk swept upward.
Retief drew his sword, pointed it at the Voion.
“Let’s go, Fufu,” he said. The Jackoo leader gave a mighty honk, and with a surge of power lunged into motion—his tribesmen at his back.
Retief could see leaves tremble on the trees ahead as the ground shook to the charge of the forty multiton Quoppina. For a startled moment, the colonel stood his ground. Then he backed, spun, shot into the underbrush a scant ten yards ahead of Fufu. Retief ducked as his mighty mount thundered in among the trees; leafy branches whipped aside with a screech and clatter of twisted metallo-wood. A polished Voion flashed into sight, gunned aside barely in time, whirled to thrust a bright lance head at Retief, who struck it aside, heard a screech cut off abruptly as the next Jackoo in line pounded across the spot where the invader had stood. More Voion were in sight ahead now, scattering before the avalanche of Jackoo. There was a loud twang! and a heavy arrow glanced off Retief’s chest armor, whined away over his shoulder. Fufu slammed full tilt into a six-inch tree, bounced it aside as though it were a bundle of straw, veered slightly to miss a two-foot trunk, flushed a Voion who darted ahead, tripped, disappeared under Fufu’s blind charge. Two Voion popped up at once, leveling lances, Retief crouched low, struck one spear aside with his sword point, saw Fufu’s grubber knock the other flying.
Behind and on both sides a heavy crashing of underbrush attested to the presence of other units of Federation heavy armor charging in line abreast. Above, leaves tinkled and clanged to the passage of moving bodies. Reflected Joop-light winked from the accoutrements of half-concealed Voion soldiery.
“Wheee!” Fufu hooted. “This is perfectly thrilling! I never thought I’d be charging into battle with a generalissimo sitting on me.”
“Just be sure I’m still in place when you charge out again,” Retief instructed.
A portable searchlight winked on ahead, silhouetting scurrying Voion against a bluish haze as they rushed to form up a defensive line against the thunder of approaching attackers.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Fufu panted. “I can see them ever so much better now!”
The Voion ahead were dashing hither and thither, each seemingly reluctant to hog the glory of placing himself in the path of the oncoming enemy.
“Swing to the left now,” Retief called. A Voion shot across the path ahead, whirled, brought a handgun up as Fufu veered to slam the gunner under his wheels. Two more Voion popped up, leaped aside, gave despairing yelps as Fufu’s flankers steamrollered them. Fufu was running parallel to the Voion front now, fifty feet inside the besieging line, half a dozen yards behind a tribesfellow. Voion were racing alongside the turf-pounding line now, loosing off arrows which clacked harmlessly off Jackoo armor. One shot in close, fired at Retief, who ducked, thrust with the sword, saw the Voion wobble wildly, go over, bounce high, and slam into a tree.
The crashing of metallo-chitin under horny wheels was like the thundering of a heavy surf, punctuated by belated screeches of alarm as the Voion rear ranks caught glimpses of the doom rushing down at them. Spears arced up, falling as often among the Voion as among the rebellious tribesmen; blasters fired wildly, and here and there a club swung in a vain blow at a racing Quoppina. Then suddenly Fufu was through the main body, slamming past astonished rear-guardsmen who gaped, dithered, fired too late.
“Swing left!” Retief called. “Maybe we can isolate this bunch!”
Now the Jackoo raced parallel to the outer fringes of a sizable detachment of the foe, cut off from the main body. Behind them, the Ween and Zilk who had made their dash trailing close along the lanes opened up by the heavyweights charged on, disappeared into the surrounding forest in hot pursuit of the demoralized main body. Locked in a solid mass of entangled wheels, the entrapped herd cut off by the rebels battled hopelessly to retreat. Those who eluded the freight-train column and fled to the shelter of the woods seemed to disappear abruptly as soon as they reached cover.
The Voion captives were now compressed to the consistency of a single interlocked traffic jam, screeching mournfully and huddling back from the patrolling heavyweights.
“Hold it up, Fufu,” Retief called. The Jackoo puffed to a halt, wheezing heavily. His tribesmates, following his lead, closed ranks, buzzing and humming, radiating heat like big purple boilers. The ensnarled Voion squalled, drew ever closer together as the mighty creatures stared at them, their sides heaving from the run. The few Planetary Police still mobile darted to and fro, then threw down their weapons and huddled against their embattled fellows. Behind Retief, the concealed combat teams emerged from the brush, snappers snapping, scythes waving.
“Fall out for a ten-minute break, gentlemen,” Retief addressed his fighters. “They’ll be back in a few minutes; but with about three hundred cops in our custody, we may find the opposition in a mood to talk terms.”
* * *
“Tief-tief, I is got to hand it to you,” Jik-jik stated. “Our plan work out pretty good! Us leave a trail of wide, skinny policemens all the way back to where Jackooburg use to be!”
“Used to be?” Jackoo heads turned.
“Sure; what you think that smoke is?”
“Why—they wouldn’t dare . . . !”
“Never mind,” Jik-jik said. “It wasn’t much of a place anyhow. But Tief-tief—like I says, you is a credit to honorary Weenhood; only thing I don’t see is, how come you won’t let us get on with breaking them Voion down into bite-size? Way they jumbled up, it take ’em six months to figure out whose wheels belongs to which!”
“This bunch we’ve rounded up is just a small part of the Voion army,” Retief pointed out. “We’ll get the maximum use from them as negotiating material—but not if they’re disassembled.”
“Hey, Tief-tief . . . !” A Ween who had been posted as lookout hurried up, pointing skyward. “Some kind of flying wagon coming.”
Retief and the others watched as a foreign-made heli settled in nearby. A small, undernourished-looking Voion with an oversized head lowered himself from the cockpit, unfurled a white flag, and approached, moving unsteadily on wheels several spokes of which were flapping loose.
“All right, let him come—and try to remember not to remove his head before he gets here,” Retief cautioned.
“You are Tief-tief, the rebel commander?” the newcomer called in a curiously weak voice.
Retief looked the envoy over carefully, nodded.
“We, ah, admire your spirit,” the Voion went on. “For that reason we are considering offering you a general amnesty . . .”
Retief waited.
“If, er, we could discuss the details in private . . . ?” the emissary proposed in a hoarse whisper.
Retief nodded to Jik-jik and Tupper. “Would you fellows mind stepping aside for a minute or two?”
“Ok, Tief-tief—but keep both oculars on that customer; he look to me like a slick one.” They moved off a few yards.
“Go ahead,” Retief said. “What’s your proposition?”
The Voion was staring at him; he made a dry rasping sound. “Forgive my mirth,” he hissed. “I confess I came here to salvage what I could from a debacle—but that voice—those legs . . .” The Voion’s tone changed to a confident rasp: “I have just revised my terms. You will relinquish command of this rabble at once and accompany me as a prisoner to Planetary Field HQ!”