Swords and Saddles Read Free Page A

looked at Johansen. “After only a few days, an unmilked cow would be very uncomfortable.”
    “Somebody’s been milking it?”
    “Yes. Would an Izkop do that? Could an Izkop do that without the cow panicking? Stein, didn’t your family have a ranch?”
    “Yeah, Sarge.” Stein’s large face creased slowly in thought. “No. If what the briefers told us is right, cows wouldn’t like the Izkop, and cows can be damned skittish even with people.”
    “Could there still be people down there?” Archer asked.
    “Either there are, or it’s another Izkop trap,” Johansen said. “You’ve still got nothing on the comm unit?”
    “No. If any civs survived, they’re staying silent.”
    Singh looked back at them all. “We go down there, or we go on.”
    “Go on? Where?” Nassar wondered.
    “Nothing any better than this, and nothing we can reach with less than another full days walk, if we could find it.”
    Johansen sighed and checked his weapon. “I’m getting tired of walking, and it’ll be dark soon. We might as well see what’s here.”
    Burgos licked her lips, her eyes fever bright. “If there’s Izkop, maybe it’s just a small force. We can wipe them out.”
    Singh pointed one finger at her. “Or there’s ten thousand of them within sound of a shot. Nobody fires without my orders.”
    “Yeah, Sarge,” Burgos muttered, her expression sullen.
    “You go spindizzy on me and I’ll shoot you myself, got it?” Singh kept his eyes on her, hard and demanding.
    Burgos flushed. “I said yes, sergeant.”
    Fortunately, the compound was on this side of the river so they didn’t have to splash through the water and mud. Tired as they were, the soldiers still moved carefully toward the buildings, only two moving at a time while the others covered them. Once inside the bluffs the flatland around the river was covered with short, round bushes with sparse leaves that caused Stein to mutter “tumbleweeds,” but the area inside the human-built compound had only short grass growing.
    Johansen came up against the main building, his rifle at ready, his back to the wall right next to the open doorway where the door still swung lazily in occasional gusts of wind. Adowa crouched on the other side of the door, raising her weapon questioningly. Johansen shook his head, then looked back to where Singh and the others were lying in the grass, their weapons aimed at the windows and doors of the building. He pulled out his combat knife, took a deep breath to fight down a wave of fear, then spun around the corner and inside, once again planting his back against the wall with the knife at the ready before him.
    A figure moved, jerking to one side with a gasp of fright. Johansen swung the knife’s point that way even as his mind shouted human . “Who are you?” Johansen demanded.
    Instead of replying to his question, the figure rose, resolving into a woman who stared at him in disbelief. “Are you a soldier?”
    “Yes, ma’am. Any Izkop here?”
    “No.” She looked anguished for a moment, then swallowed and steadied. “We haven’t seen any here since the recall. We’ve been unable to contact Amity since then.“ Her expression changed. “We heard what sounded like explosions in the distance this morning. In the direction of Amity.”
    Johansen just nodded. “We? You’re not alone here?”
    “No. There’s two other adults and ten children. The others are in the back rooms.”
    Finally relaxing, Johansen leaned out the door to wave an all clear and beckon to the others.
    The other soldiers came on carefully, still dodging forward until each darted inside the doorway. As he waited for them and watched for trouble, Johansen saw that the building’s interior consisted of a big main room which stretched all the way across its width and perhaps a third of the way back, where an inside wall showed hallways and doors leading to what must be living quarters and offices. A series of big windows ran along the front and