Nova Byzantium by Matthew Rivett

Author:Matthew Rivett [Rivett, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: novel, science fiction
ISBN: 9781607015109
Publisher: Masque Books
Published: 2014-08-04T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

November 2156 C.E.

The hydrofoils fanned out over the Caspian in a delta formation. Quick and maneuverable, they floated above the sea, darting in and out of each other’s wakes like porpoises. Just over the glass horizon, past the salt-bergs, Uri spotted the oil refineries and decrepit beach resorts of Turkmenbashi’s skyline. Columns of smoke billowed above the cityscape in spirals of dense soot. Like a netherworld inferno, Turkmenbashi and its southern peninsula burned continuously. In the Karakum desert, so much fire seemed impossible, but war generated enough tinder—bodies, oil, garbage—to keep the flames stoked.

Air cover was light; most of the invasion’s Halos and Hinds were grounded back in Baku. One bomber and a few rocket-heavy gunships limped a few kilometers back for the initial assault. The official reason was “maintenance,” a catchall for logistical snags in Alkonost’s supply chain. The beach attack was shaping up to be exclusively amphibious. After reading the intelligence reports, Sava figured heavy weapons would be of little use anyhow. This was guerrilla war, urban and grimy.

Padshah Khan was Nova Byzantium’s ally in Turkmenbashi; his army of raggedy men defended the city’s oil infrastructure from two fanatical brothers named Farzad and Farzam. They were “foreigners,” or so stated the official report: monastic wanderers from the oasis city of Merv in the Karakum. Engaged in a warped Nizari mysticism, the nomads practiced a perverse depravity in combat: child sacrifice, slow torture, and decimation. Using a local radio transmitter, “The Brothers” as they were collectively known, preached crazed sermons to their fanatic militias.

Sava checked his console, 2.3 klicks to the beachhead. His mission was to link up with one of Farzad or Farzam’s operatives to establish a liaison between the Padshah Khan and The Brothers. Making an end run around the Khan would risk Constantinople’s shaky alliance. Diplomacy was of the utmost necessity.

The rendezvous was inland, southeast of Turkmenbashi’s No Man’s Land: a strip of shelled blight that sliced the conurbation’s fang-like peninsula, dividing it into two. To the northeast was the warlord’s Turkmenbashi borough, friendly ground; to the south was the Awaza District and The Brothers. Alkonost’s primary objective was to widen No Man’s Land. Using Halos laden with napalm incendiaries, the mercenaries planned to blacken it—scorched earth—expunging the corridor of life and oxygen.

The hydrofoils shot for a decaying oil jetty and its pipeline terminal. The kilometer-long spit would be Alkonost’s forward operating base once secured. Mortar fire erupted in geysers of saline mist, the agile boats quick to skirt through the fountains in a hectic choreography. Sava looked through his rifle sight. Next to a set of globular gas reservoirs, he saw a group of technicals: improvised dreadnaughts welded together from trucks, plate steel, and artillery.

“Do you see them?” Sava radioed.

“Yeah,” Uri responded from a nearby boat. “There’s a spotter on the far tower.”

Deployed with Uri’s platoon, Sava commanded his own detachment. Uri was aware of Sava’s mission, but not the specifics. Mission intelligence required a strict “need-to-know,” or so went the cover story. Now able to operate freely in the field, Sava could work his side job unfettered.

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