Borderlands #2 by John Shirley

Author:John Shirley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books

Smartun climbed the metal steps to a corner watchtower overlooking the plains outside Bloodrust Corners. He felt a mixture of elation and disquiet. Would she be happy? Casualties had been surprisingly high. And there was that little debacle at the end. But still . . .

He reached the watchtower proper and looked out at the legion’s encampment. Bandits and Psychos, Gynella’s men, were milling about the camp, some of them fighting, some drinking liquor cadged from the settlement. A great many others were looting the settlement, arguing over newly discovered caches of money and weapons and food. Skenk was having difficulty keeping more soldiers from rushing into the settlement. But there was no room for them—and there could be more traps . . .

It was time to make a report.

Smartun tapped his ECHO comm, activating its link to the device he had plugged into his ear, and heard the clicking of its decrypter. After a moment Gynella herself answered.

“Is that you, Smartun?”

He shivered with pleasure as her voice, the blessed voice of his living Goddess, reverberated within his ear, a kind of sonic intimacy . . .

“It is, my General Goddess. We have possession of Bloodrust Corners—we took considerable casualties.”

“How many casualties?”

He told her. He thought she’d be angry, but she only chuckled. “We have reports that the mercenaries Roland and Mordecai entered Bloodrust Corners right before your attack. Does that account for the high casualties?”

“In part. The settlement had good defenses. Their kill-mechs took out quite a few of our best fighters. We used up a lot of rocket-launcher ammo on the mechs and the front gate—we’ll need more, as soon as it can be supplied, as much as you can spare.”

“All in good time. Meanwhile you will scavenge weaponry as you find it. We’ll have to start expanding our range, and if you go to . . .” A crackle interrupted the transmission, and then her voice came back in. “Fyrestone, probably, soon. There are a lot of weapons in and around Fyrestone we can use. The weapons dealer Marcus has a good many tucked away around the settlement, I’m told.”

“As you wish, General Goddess.”

“But first, secure the area. How many prisoners did you take? We have need of work slaves. I have to shore up the new ramp off the Footstool. I’ll need a good many workmen . . .”

When they’d first come to the Devil’s Footstool, the only access to the top had been to crane men and supplies up in the cumbersome shell of an old bus lifted creakingly up and lowered creakingly down. Gynella had ordered a ramp cut in a zigzag pattern down one face of the giant stone column, so her fighting forces could be moved out to a battlefield with less delay—and less vulnerability. A single good cannon shell could blow that old bus up en route, and all the men inside.

“Ah, unfortunately there are no prisoners, my General. The few wounded who were left behind were killed by our front lines.

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