The Garden - Melissa Scott [102]
Torres opened her mouth to say something, warn Adamant, anything, but before she could speak, the Kirse leader seemed to notice the fighting, and touched a control. Behind the struggling fighters, first one tree and then another bent sideways, limbs twisting around themselves to reveal the bright red fruit cradled in the cuplike caps at the end of each branch. Then the branches snapped forward, flinging the fruit in a ragged volley. They struck among the gardeners, releasing a cloud of glittering dust, and the creatures collapsed. So did two of the dwarf-soldiers, but the rest of them had hands cupped over their mouths and noses-presumably holding masks of some kind, Torres thought-and they dragged their fellows out of danger.
The image changed then, the screen refocusing on the Andirrim shuttle. It had gained another hundred meters, Torres realized, and was in parts of the garden than she herself had traversed on first landing. Even as she thought that, she saw more of the trees convulse, and release another volley of fruit. Some of them fell short, smashing into paving and ground with brief puffs of smoke, but most of them struck the shuttle's shields, releasing gouts of flame. The explosions were triggered by contact with the shield, Torres guessed, and shook her head again, admiring the Kirse ingenuity. The shuttle lifted slightly, rising out of range, but kept on. The drones fell away slightly, caught off balance by the changing altitude, and a hatch opened on the back of the shuttle.
"Look out," Torres called, and pointed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adamant spin to face this new threat, but her attention was focused on the smaller craft rising from the shuttle's back.
"Attack squad," Adamant said, his voice grim.
The smaller ship-a brighter, more streamlined version of the larger shuttle-lifted away from its parent, jets blazing blue-white as it adjusted its course. Another group of trees flung their fruit at it, but they fell short, crashing harmlessly on the paving in front of the larger shuttle.
"Where the hell is it going?" Jenar muttered, and Torres was suddenly certain she knew.
"The citadel," she answered. "And they're coming in on the back side, where there aren't so many Gwarhai-sorry, soldiers."
She saw Tuvok look at her, his frown fading to agreement, and Adamant looked up from his controls. "I agree, that's where they're heading."
"Reinforcements," Torres snapped. "You have to get reinforcements in there."
"I am at my limit," Adamant answered, and for the first time since the attack began he sounded strained. "There are no more."
No more. Torres stared at him for a moment, then swung to face the screen that showed the undefended wall. There were only a few dozen of the dwarf-soldiers; even if there were twice as many out of range of the cameras, she thought, they would never be able to hold off a determined attack, especially not from those positions. "How many Andirrim are there likely to be in the little ship?" she demanded, and to her surprise it was Tuvok who answered.
"A craft that size should be capable of carrying at least a hundred Andirrim, possibly half again as many if they accept stressed systems."
"A hundred and fifty," Torres repeated, and shook herself. "You'll never hold them there," she said, to Adamant. "You have to pull back, take them inside the citadel."
"No!" Adamant's eyes widened with horror, but then he had himself under control, glancing from his controls to the screens and back again.
"There's no other way you can stop them," Torres said, and Tuvok nodded.
"I concur, Adamant. Given the transporter system within the citadel, you stand a good chance of stopping them inside the walls, but outside-"
He stopped as Adamant nodded. "Very well." The Kirse reached for his controls again, but Torres interrupted.
"Let me-us-go with them. I've been in fighting like this before,