Narakan Rifles, About Face!, Page 2

at thelatest."

  "What about the Rifles, sir?"

  "What? The what?"

  "The native troops, sir. The Narakan Rifles." Terrence grated.

  "The Rifles? Good God, man! We haven't time for nonsense. The Riflesare only Greenbacks, aren't they? You get Norton started burning thosestores."

  Terrence put down the microphone very carefully to keep from slammingit down and stalked back into his quarters. Angrily he began to takehis radiation clothing from its hooks on the wall.

  "What the devil is eating you?" demanded Bill Fielding.

  "We're pulling out, lock, stock and barrel," Terrence told him.

  "Pulling out? Whoweee! I knew Mrs. Fielding didn't raise her boy to bea fried egg. Goodbye, Dust Bin! Hello, New Chi!" Bill was up on hishands and knees pounding on his cot. "But what's the matter with you?You like this place?"

  "They're leaving the Rifles," Terrence said, zipping up his protectivecoveralls as he left the room.

  II

  Stepping outside on Naraka with the full power of Alpha and BetaCentauri beating down was like stepping into a river of fire. Evenwith the cooling unit in his suit, Terrence was aware of the searingheat that filled the parade ground. Looking off across the makeshiftnative huts, he could see the bright sides of a huge space ship-likeobject. The big dirigible _Sun Maid_ was lying in an open field. It'sa funny world, he thought to himself, where you have to use dirigiblesfor planetary travel. But a dirigible was the only practical aircraftwhen you had to use steam turbine engines because of the lack ofgasoline and the economic impracticability of transporting it in thelimited cargo holds of the occasional spacers that came out from Sol.

  The Narakan Rifles were marching toward him now, the band doingabsolutely nothing for _The Wearing of the Green_. Three hundred big,green bodied, beady eyed, frog-like creatures were marching in theboiling heat with their non-coms croaking out orders in English whichmight have come out of _Alice in Wonderland_.

  As they marched by him, he snapped a salute. Watching them closely hetried to find two men who were in step with each other or one man whohad his rifle at the right angle. Unable to find either, he stoodthere conscious of failure; failure which went beyond mere militaryprecision however. Sloppiness at review could have been overlooked ifhe had been able to find that the Narakans had any ability as fightingmen but after a year of training they seemed almost as hopeless asthey had at first. It wasn't that they were completely unintelligent.In fact, other than the Galactic traveling Rumi, they were the onlyextra-solar race of intelligent beings encountered by man so far. Itwas just, he thought, that the hundreds of years during which the Rumihad dominated their planet had reduced the Narakans to a state ofalmost complete ineptitude.

  He stood there as they passed in review three times because he knewthat his presence pleased and encouraged them. Then he turned, andwith dragging feet made his way down Dust Bin's single street towardGovernment House.

  In a few minutes he was standing in the cool, air conditioned livingroom of the Wilsons. Wilson was seated at his desk rummaging throughsome papers while Norris and Mrs. Wilson were lounging in contourchairs admiring each other over tall, frosty drinks.

  They took the news just as he expected them to. Wilson ran his handthrough his sparse, gray hair and murmured something about it being ashame to have to leave the natives on their own after having more orless dragged them out of their comfortable swamps. A glance from hiswife silenced him.

  "What the hell," Norris said, "they're only blasted thick wittedGreenbacks."

  Mrs. Wilson yawned, "It'll be something of a bother packing but it'llcertainly be a pleasure to get back to New Chicago. Some women'shusbands get good posts in half-way civilized parts of the Universe. Idon't know why I should always have to be stuck in every backwater,hick town there is."

  Wilson smiled apologetically, "Now, dear...." he began but wasinterrupted by the sudden ringing of the telephone on the table nearNorris' chair.

  "Get that, will you, O'Mara?" the captain said, making no attempt toreach for it, "It's probably the Command Post."

  Terrence put the phone to his ear angrily and growled into it. Anexcited Bill Fielding was on the line. "Terry? Is that you? Fieldinghere. Hell's breaking loose. There's a bunch of blasted Rumi trying toforce their way into town. They attacked the sentries down this wayand may be heading for your end of town too."

  Terrence dropped the phone and headed for the door. "_Rumi!_" heshouted and there were shouts and cries from outside in answer. Thenhe heard the clack, clack, clack of Rumi spring guns. Windows of theroom crashed in and Wilson collapsed across his desk. Norton grabbedMrs. Wilson and pulled her down onto the floor. Terrence dropped tohis hands and knees and continued toward the door as he drew hisforty-five.

  * * * * *

  Somewhere, someone had cut loose with a Banning and its high whinedrowned out the clack of the spring guns. With a quick look around,Terrence started at a run for the next building which was the nativeschoolhouse. He didn't make it. There was a clack, clack from off tohis left and he threw himself forward, skidding and sliding in thedust and gravel of the street. A warehouse across the square was onfire and three Rumi had darted from behind it. In one brief glance hesaw those long barreled spring guns of theirs and the tall, gracefulbodies and the feline faces under the plastic protective clothing.

  He snapped four shots at them and saw one fall. Then he began toslither along the ground raising enough dust to mask his movements.There were half a dozen of them in the square when he reached the reardoor of the schoolhouse. Several gleaming plastic bolts smashed intothe wooden outer door a second after he had raised up to open it andthen had dropped back down.

  Norton fired from the residency and momentarily scattered the Rumi andTerrence was inside the school room and racing for the side windowfrom which he could get a clear line of fire at the raiders. He had abrief glimpse of Joan Allen, the school teacher, standing in a cornerof the room with the tiny green figures of native children huddledaround her. Then he was at a window and had beaten out the heavyprotective glass and was firing into a mass of the catmen, firing andcursing as his gun emptied. He cursed in a stream of Martian, Englishand Greenback profanity as he forced another clip into the gun.

  "Lieutenant O'Mara, if you'll be so kind as to restrain your languagein front of these children," a voice said from over his shoulder.

  Terrence reached back and felt something soft and forced it overagainst the wall out of the line of the window. Then he risked a quicklook which was almost his last. A spring gun bolt burned a groove inthe windowsill next to his head and smashed into the blackboard acrossthe room.

  "Lieutenant O'Mara, would you mind telling me what this is all about?"came the same calm determined woman's voice from beside him. He firedagain at a darting figure across the square and saw it stumble beforehe had to drop to his haunches as the window above him was smashed andscattered by bolts and glass rained down about his head.

  He put another clip into his gun and cursed because he had only twoleft. He turned his head briefly and had a quick glimpse of a whiteface framed in straight dark hair and a small, neat figure in a yellowdress.

  "Rumi attack. One of their patrols must have gotten around thebattalion."

  A husky, whimpering little sound made him look down. A native child orpollywog as the Terrans called them was clinging desperately to theteacher's skirt. His tiny webbed feet clutched at the cloth as heburied his face against her leg. From behind her peered still anotherchild, its baby frog face working spasmodically in the beginnings of asob. Six or seven others were lying flat on the floor their bodiestrembling in terror.

  Terrence took another look outside and what he saw sent him intoanother stream of cursing. The Narakan Rifles were hurrying to thescene of action. Down the middle of the street they came in a columnof fours with their drums and bugles blaring out a poor imitation of_The Wearing of the Green_. Their standard bearer was running at thehead of the column besid
e Sergeant Major O'Shaughnessy.

  "Oh, my God! He wouldn't...!"

  "Lieutenant, please!"

  "Teacher, will you shut up!" he roared as he leaped across the roomtoward the front door. At the harsh tone of his voice, the whimperingsounds in the room suddenly burst forth in full volume as the tenpollywogs raised their hoarse voices into full throated croaks.

  Terrence braced his body against the wall and held his gun ready as hepulled open the door. In parade formation his men were moving up thestreet and in a moment they would be away from the buildings'protection and directly in the Rumi line of fire.

  "O'Shaughnessy, you idiot!" he roared above the croaking from behindhim and the rattle of firing outside.

  O'Shaughnessy came to