The Heirs of Babylon

The Heirs of Babylon by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: The Heirs of Babylon by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online
Authors: Glen Cook
Tags: Fiction, Science-Fiction, Fantasy
hunt-
    ers—who settled on their hams in the grass, laconically
    observing the panic.

    Mr. Czyzewski began shouting in mixed Polish and
    German, driving sailors back to work. Sheepishly, they
    returned to their tools. Beck and his riflemen hurried past Kurt, took up defensive positions between hunters and
    sailors. Kurt found this pleasing. Beck would be out of the way, unable to snoop.

    Uneventful days passed. Jager lost her trim, wolfish
    look. Stem to stern, rail to rail, from her lowest void to
    her highest deck, she was stacked with fuel to drive her
    the long three thousand kilometers to Gibraltar. She rode
    very low in the water and her center of gravity had
    risen—dangerously so if she was forced to face a storm—
    and still Mr. Czyzewski was uncertain the fuel was suffi-

39
    dent. He claimed the wood would bum too fast, loudly
    mourned the lack of coal.

    Jager had burned coal thus far—coal brought to Kiel
    from Sweden, in driblets over the years, as ballast in the
    sailing ships of Swedish traders—but the little store left
    was to be saved for combat, when the ship would need its
    greater efficiency.

    Sailors were loading a last mountainous raft while Kurt
    wondered where it was to be stored. A shout came from
    downriver. He turned. The Norwegians were striking
    camp—why had they spent so many days just sitting and
    watching?—and all but one vanished into the wood. The
    remaining man unhurriedly approached, smiling. Beck and
    his riflemen rose, waited. The meeting took place fifteen
    meters from Kurt. All activity ceased along the riverbank.

    "What's happening?"

    Kurt jerked nervously, then laughed. "Got me, Hans.
    Maybe he's bringing the bill for the wood."

    "Hey!" Hans stared at the approaching man. "Isn't that
    . . . what's his name? Franck? Yes, Karl Franck."

    Kurt squinted against the sunlight. "You're right. He
    disappeared about the time I went to sea, after those
    speeches. ..."

    "My father still complains about him, usually when he
    wants to make a moral point." Hans grinned. "Prime example of moral decay. Dad says that, with my attitude,
    I'm sure to end up like him."

    "Wait!" Kurt said. "Lookslike trouble."

    Franck had stopped a few paces from Beck, surveyed
    his uniform with exaggerated loathing, said something
    softly. Kurt saw color creep up Beck's neck, heard him
    mutter. His two riflemen retreated.

    "What's happening, Ott?" Kurt asked.

    "Don't know. Franck said something about the High
    Command, then Beck told us to get the hell out." Kapp
    fell silent, turned all his attention to Beck and Franck. An argument had begun. Beck appeared to be growing angry,
    which surprised Kurt. He had never seen Beck get emo-
    tional. He thought of his time-bomb notion. Someone
    laughed. Beck jerked as if stung, turned, narrowed eyes
    searching, promising reprisal, seeing nothing but sober
    faces. Growing angrier, he turned back to Franck, growled
    something.

    Now Franck laughed. He made a megaphone of his
    hands, shouted, "Hey, men, thought you might like to
    know that High Command and the War are—"

    He was unable to finish. Beck broke. He jerked his

40
    pistol out and fired. Jager's crew, ashore and at her rails, watched in dumb surprise as Franck jerked to the repeated impact of bullets. Beck emptied his weapon, con-
    tinued insanely pulling the trigger.

    Berserk, just like that sailor, Kurt thought. He forced
    his rising breakfast back with difficulty. Hans muttered,
    "Oh, Christ!" and lost his.

    Otto, after a silent moment during which the shots
    seemed to echo on, gasped, "He's finally done it. He's killed somebody."

    Beck stood staring down at the corpse, shaking, yet
    with a beatific glow about him—a look of almost orgas-
    mic satisfaction.

    Then arrows streaked from the forest. Beck screamed
    as one hit his leg, was silenced as a second transfixed his throat. He took two more in leg and shoulder as he fell.

    "Let's get out of here!" a sailor shouted. Everyone unfroze. Men

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