The Pluthrak was still standing, although he too had obviously been rattled. Aille shook himself until his whiskers flapped, and his eyes were luminous with emotion in the darkness. “It came from underground, I think,” he said. “A storage tank of some sort, perhaps?”
“A volatile fuel depot,” Yaut said. “That would make sense.”
“Fraghta, are you all right?” A hand pulled him onto his feet.
Yaut turned and saw the dark-haired human male, Aguilera. “I am undamaged,” he said, letting his body fall into the sternness of perceived-error. He heartily disliked being touched without invitation.
“I don’t think that was a fuel depot blowing up, sir,” said Kralik. “They probably filled some of the water mains with gasoline and now they’re blowing them to create steam. Not that it’s really needed, in this rain, but they must have been preparing for days. No way to predict the weather that far ahead.”
Aille stood. “You are saying that this is a well-planned ambush, not a hastily organized resistance.”
“Yes, sir,” Kralik replied. “Meaning no disrespect—to the Jao—but your Governor’s temper is notorious. I’m willing to bet this whole thing was designed to draw an attack on Salem, starting with the assault on the whaling ship. This is the logical place for someone who thinks like Oppuk to retaliate. Nearest big town and it’s the capital, to boot.”
“But . . . the casualties they would produce, among humans.”
Aguilera gave Tully a glance that seemed hostile, then shrugged. “The Resistance thinks that way. Kill some Jao—collaborators, too—and be damned to the rest. You’re back to fighting in a city, which is where humans have the best advantage.”
Tully opened his mouth, as if to protest, but Aguilera silenced him with a sharp hand gesture.
“Hush!” His head was turned, as if he were listening intently. So was Kralik.
Yaut heard the noise himself, now that the two human soldiers had brought it to his attention.
“Oh, Christ,” hissed Aguilera. “Where in the hell did they get tanks?”
Kralik turned to Aille, his posture full of obvious cautious-anxiety.
“We’ve got to get under cover, now. They’ll have infantrymen with them, too.”
Aille and Yaut started to turn back to their vehicle, which was quite some distance away.
“No, not there! There isn’t time.” Kralik pointed to a nearby building, a dwelling set back from the street with a small grove of trees before it. “That vehicle is a death trap, as close as the tank sounds. Over there, quick, where we’ll be out of sight. And get the driver out! Tell him to take cover somewhere.”
Yaut looked to Aille. “Do as he says,” the young Pluthrak commanded. “He may be right—and I want to observe this, anyway.”
Yaut spoke into his communicator. A moment later, the Jao driver emerged from the vehicle and disappeared behind another building. The roaring sound of the approaching tank was very loud, even above the din of the battle.
But they were all hidden in the grove, now. Suddenly, in addition to the roar of the engine, there was the added sound of a great squeal, very painful to the ears.
“That’s the track, braking so they can make the turn,” Aguilera whispered. He raised his head a little. “Yeah, they’re coming around the corner. Looks like they’ve got . . . call it maybe a dozen foot soldiers in support. Raggedy bunch. If we’re lucky, they won’t spot us here.”
* * *
Aille saw a tank running on primitive human-style metal tracks looming into view through the rain. The tank’s engine was incredibly loud, but he was surprised at the relative lack of noise coming from the tracks themselves. They must have some sort of padding between the metal blocks. Not for the first time, he was struck by the sophistication of human technology. Like the submarines or the interior of the tanks he had seen, what appeared at first glance to be crude and simple could be extremely well designed.
There were also, as Aguilera had said, some foot soldiers accompanying the tanks, following behind it with weapons ready. Why? he wondered. This was obviously part of human military doctrine, not a fluke, because Kralik had predicted it.