Swords and Saddles by Jack Campbell Page B

held at shoulder height, ready to fire. Adowa and Goldera, working together, yanked open the bars and pulled the door open fast without regard for the noise, then Johansen stepped into the opening, quivering with tension.
    The yard lay silent in the afternoon light. From here, none of the Izkop bodies littering the front of the compound were visible. About a hundred meters distant in the barn, the cow stood looking back at him blankly. After carefully studying everything he could see for signs of Izkop, Johansen focused on the figure sprawled several meters from the door.
    Juni’s body lay face up, his abdomen torn open and entrails spread to either side, his mouth still open in a silent cry, his expression locked into incomprehension.
    Adowa edged to the door and took a look. “From the way he bled, they killed him fast and quiet, then tore him open.”
    “How?” Goldera gasped. “I was listening. I didn’t hear anything!”
    Johansen pointed toward the milk bucket lying in the dirt, the soil around it wet with spilled milk. “They let him milk the cow before they killed him. They really seem to care about that animal.”
    “Sure wish I was that cow,” Adowa muttered.
    “Yeah.” Stepping back inside, Johansen gestured to the others. “Seal it.”
    “We going to leave him out there?”
    Johansen hesitated. “There’s no place to put him in here. We’ll bury him proper if we get the chance later.”
    “More likely we’ll be lying out here with him,” Adowa said. “I sure hope I’m dead when they cut me open.” She gave Johansen a sharp look. “Neither of you guys are going to make any comments about Old Harvard?”
    Johansen looked at the dead man and shook his head. “Nah. Overkill.”
    “Yeah,” Goldera agreed.
    Ariana took the news with a sad nod.
    Scorse finally spoke once more. “I’ll use one of those spears next time they attack. I’ll stay here and fight.”
    All Ariana did was nod again. “Sergeant, I’d appreciate help with getting the meal.”
    “Johansen. You and Archer. Eat while you’re helping so you can stand watch while the rest of us eat.”
    #
    The Izkop came in the night this time, their numbers undiminished, filling the yard as the soldiers emptied their rifles and pulled out their pistols, the piles of dead Izkop forming ramps in front of the windows so that some Izkop came running and hurling themselves inside while others smashed through the front entry. The soldiers’ weapons had little muzzle flash, providing just enough light to see the masses of Izkop as the soldiers fired, then the last pistol was empty and they fought in the dark, stabbing with knife and spear at smaller figures, Johansen being forced backwards toward the rear of the room and praying that he wouldn’t accidentally spit either Archer or Goldera. He could hear Scorse over by Stein, the civilian yelling obscenities as he fought with an Izkop spear. Burgos also shouted from her post near the door until her voice fell silent.
    Pain burned as a spear went into his thigh. Johansen thrust back, despairing as the bodies pushed forward shouting in the Izkop language, then as he made another stab Johansen realized the pressure had lessened, that the movement of the enemy had changed. The area in front of him held only a couple of Izkop, then none as the aliens fell back through the door and windows again, leaving the humans alone in the building.
    There was a moment of strange almost-silence then, the only noises the harsh breathing of the soldiers trying to catch their breath and the faint sounds of the mass of Izkop fading into the night. Sergeant Singh spoke first. “I’m moving to the door. I’m there. All the Izkop here seem dead. Burgos is on the threshold. She’s got a dozen spears in her. No pulse. Everybody else report.”
    “Johansen here,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Got a bad wound in one thigh. Everything else seems minor.”
    “Adowa. Got one or two deep cuts in my