Read Online Operation Inferno by Eric Nylund - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eric Nylund
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in the last half hour.
Two-thirds full. Not ideal, but good enough.
Half was their turn-around point. It didn’t leave much extra for exploration … or combat.
He scanned the displays, port and starboard, fore and aft. His sprits rose.
Sterling Squadron was back in the air where they belonged. Madison had the point position in their formation with her dragonfly. The insect glimmered like an emerald in the sunlight. Felix had the rearguard station. His Big Blue rhinoceros beetle was the team’s anchor. Next to Felix flew Emma in her four-ton ladybug of death.
Angel’s black stealth wasp and Lee’s housefly orbited the group—zipping back and forth, up and down, always on the lookout for danger. Oliver’s sleek, tough silver cockroach and Kristov’s bloodred locust were on either side of Ethan’s wingtips.
The Crusher praying mantis rocketed along on the dorsal, or top, side of the formation. That gave Bobby the clearest view of the squadron, and made for the easiest maneuvering.
The mantis I.C.E. was Bobby’s now. He was doing good, but considering their speed and the fact that they were on average only separated by a body length, being only
good
could have serious consequences.
He wasn’t sure how Bobby would do in a real dogfight.
Ethan paused in his thoughts to consider how the word
dogfight
didn’t really apply when he was flying a three-ton insect.
At least up there, Ethan was with people he trusted, and things up in the air were clear-cut. When your enemies wanted to destroy you, you knew. You fought back.
Of course, there were complications, even up there.
Like: those mysterious unarmed bees they’d run into yesterday. Why the Ch’zar were apparently attacking their own factories. And—Ethan checked his fuel gauges again—the matter of the extra tanks.
In order to make it all the way to the Yucatán Peninsula in one go, they’d had to attach extra fuel tanks on the I.C.E.s. One was the size of his wasp’s abdomen. It was worse for Emma and Felix and their fuel-guzzling, heavily armored assault units. They’d burn through
three
extra tanks … two of which had been stashed on the route back.
With a hundred miles still to go, they had to keep them until they were nearly at the Ch’zar industrial sector.
Ethan was itching to get rid of the tanks, though. With the extra weight, maneuvering the wasp felt like flying though syrup, the controls were so sluggish.
And combat? Forget it. With the tanks on, they’d be toast.
“We’re almost there,” Emma said to him over a private, short-range radio channel. “Stop worrying about the extra weight. You should worry about what happens if one of us catches a stray laser beam or plasma bolt.
Boom!
We’re basically flying bombs, you know.…” She laughed.
“Ha-ha,” Ethan said. “Not funny, Emma.”
“Hey—just a reality check,” she said.
Ethan glanced back at her ladybug. She was right. One hit on these fuel tanks and they could all go up in a huge chain-reaction fireball.
A line of hills passed under their I.C.E.s as they flew over … and the jungle started to change. There were a few tracks cutting through the green dirt roads, a paved highway, and all traces of rainforest vanished—replaced by corrugated steel warehouses, churning factories, and an endless automatic conveyor system shuttling cargo.
“Go short-range encryption,” Ethan said, after setting the squadron’s radio channel to the low-power secret setting. This would reduce the risk of any enemy listening in.
“What is out here that the Ch’zar would build all this?” Bobby asked.
“There’s literally tons of lumber,” Emma offered.
“The Ch’zar don’t need
wood
,” Angel said. “Glance over at two o’clock, toward the sea.”
Ethan dialed up the magnification of his cockpit screen in that direction. There were the waves and whitecaps of the Gulf of Mexico … but there was also the edge of a crazily huge retaining wall that looked
Two-thirds full. Not ideal, but good enough.
Half was their turn-around point. It didn’t leave much extra for exploration … or combat.
He scanned the displays, port and starboard, fore and aft. His sprits rose.
Sterling Squadron was back in the air where they belonged. Madison had the point position in their formation with her dragonfly. The insect glimmered like an emerald in the sunlight. Felix had the rearguard station. His Big Blue rhinoceros beetle was the team’s anchor. Next to Felix flew Emma in her four-ton ladybug of death.
Angel’s black stealth wasp and Lee’s housefly orbited the group—zipping back and forth, up and down, always on the lookout for danger. Oliver’s sleek, tough silver cockroach and Kristov’s bloodred locust were on either side of Ethan’s wingtips.
The Crusher praying mantis rocketed along on the dorsal, or top, side of the formation. That gave Bobby the clearest view of the squadron, and made for the easiest maneuvering.
The mantis I.C.E. was Bobby’s now. He was doing good, but considering their speed and the fact that they were on average only separated by a body length, being only
good
could have serious consequences.
He wasn’t sure how Bobby would do in a real dogfight.
Ethan paused in his thoughts to consider how the word
dogfight
didn’t really apply when he was flying a three-ton insect.
At least up there, Ethan was with people he trusted, and things up in the air were clear-cut. When your enemies wanted to destroy you, you knew. You fought back.
Of course, there were complications, even up there.
Like: those mysterious unarmed bees they’d run into yesterday. Why the Ch’zar were apparently attacking their own factories. And—Ethan checked his fuel gauges again—the matter of the extra tanks.
In order to make it all the way to the Yucatán Peninsula in one go, they’d had to attach extra fuel tanks on the I.C.E.s. One was the size of his wasp’s abdomen. It was worse for Emma and Felix and their fuel-guzzling, heavily armored assault units. They’d burn through
three
extra tanks … two of which had been stashed on the route back.
With a hundred miles still to go, they had to keep them until they were nearly at the Ch’zar industrial sector.
Ethan was itching to get rid of the tanks, though. With the extra weight, maneuvering the wasp felt like flying though syrup, the controls were so sluggish.
And combat? Forget it. With the tanks on, they’d be toast.
“We’re almost there,” Emma said to him over a private, short-range radio channel. “Stop worrying about the extra weight. You should worry about what happens if one of us catches a stray laser beam or plasma bolt.
Boom!
We’re basically flying bombs, you know.…” She laughed.
“Ha-ha,” Ethan said. “Not funny, Emma.”
“Hey—just a reality check,” she said.
Ethan glanced back at her ladybug. She was right. One hit on these fuel tanks and they could all go up in a huge chain-reaction fireball.
A line of hills passed under their I.C.E.s as they flew over … and the jungle started to change. There were a few tracks cutting through the green dirt roads, a paved highway, and all traces of rainforest vanished—replaced by corrugated steel warehouses, churning factories, and an endless automatic conveyor system shuttling cargo.
“Go short-range encryption,” Ethan said, after setting the squadron’s radio channel to the low-power secret setting. This would reduce the risk of any enemy listening in.
“What is out here that the Ch’zar would build all this?” Bobby asked.
“There’s literally tons of lumber,” Emma offered.
“The Ch’zar don’t need
wood
,” Angel said. “Glance over at two o’clock, toward the sea.”
Ethan dialed up the magnification of his cockpit screen in that direction. There were the waves and whitecaps of the Gulf of Mexico … but there was also the edge of a crazily huge retaining wall that looked
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