A Fighting Chance Read Free Page A

ATV through town. That was the way Baynor’s Bay’s townspeople came out to greet them. And no wonder since most had been witness to the TACBASE’s rather noisy arrival, not to mention the landing on the hill.
    But as the road curved and followed the beach toward the southwest, most of the gawkers waved cheerfully, and a few were armed with Confederate flags. So if these people were friendly—who had attempted to bring the TACBASE down? It was an interesting question but one that would have to wait.
    The ATV slowed, passed between a couple of stone pillars, and entered a curved drive. It led to a sprawling one-story house. The home was not only larger than most of the places Santana had seen but was perched on the edge of the bay, with a glorious view of the water. As both vehicles came to a halt under a portico, two native O-Chies hurried out to meet them.
    The locals were about five feet tall and looked like animated skeletons. Large light-gathering eyes were located on both sides of their oval heads. That meant they could look in two directions at once. A rather useful adaptation for sentients who had reason to fear large carnivores. And as Santana freed himself from the harness, he saw that the indigs had three chevron-shaped nostrils centered in the middle of their faces. Their slitlike mouths were very wide, and if they had teeth, there was no sign of them as the nearest O-Chi spoke. The native’s voice had a soft, raspy sound. “Welcome to Bay House. The colonel is waiting.”
    Santana got the impression that Antov didn’t like to wait for things; he ordered Joshi to stand by and held up a pocket com for the T-2 to see. The cyborg’s armor was painted forest green dappled with random ribbons of yellow. Like most vets, rows of bug skulls had been stenciled onto his slablike chest. One for each confirmed kill.
    The noncom nodded a huge head. His computer-generated voice sounded like a rock crusher in low gear. “Just say the word, sir, and I’ll join the party.”
    Santana grinned at the thought. “Thank you, Sergeant. That’s very comforting.”
    As Santana turned toward the front door and made his way toward Kimbo, he could see the militia officer’s frown. “You look troubled, Captain . . . Is something wrong?”
    “No, sir . . . But I’m afraid I’ll have to ask that you leave your weapons here. They will be kept under lock and key. The armor is up to you.”
    Santana wasn’t pleased, but he understood. Trust had to be earned. So he slid the carbine off his shoulder and gave both it and his pistol to Kimbo, who placed them in a cabinet. The clamshell-style armor made a thump as it hit the floor. His helmet went on top. “Okay, Captain . . . At least I got to keep my pants. Please lead the way.”
    The house had white walls, gleaming hardwood floors, and was furnished with beautiful O-Chi-made rattan furniture. But what immediately drew Santana’s eyes were the hundreds of animal trophies, both large and small, that glared down at him from every angle. Some had fur, and others were covered with scales. And because none of the creatures were familiar to him, Santana assumed all of them were native to O-Chi 4.
    But, as Santana discovered when he was shown into a cavernous living area, the heads in the hallway were nothing compared to the beast that eyed him from the far end of the room. The reptile was about eight feet tall and equipped with four muscular legs. Yellow eyes were set into a bony head. And there were lots of sharp-looking teeth inside a yawning mouth. A meat eater for sure.
    “It’s a velocipod,” a male voice said. “I took it down with a .50-caliber Hawking. Anything smaller just pisses them off. The range was about a hundred feet. Closer than I would like—but that’s how it is with velocipods. They’re damned fast, so you only have seconds in which to fire.”
    When Santana turned in the direction of the voice, he saw that a pair of easy chairs was positioned in front of a