story Impish Behavior [Fanfic in the Tankiverse]

[Hippin_in_Hawaii 639]

Impish Behavior

Chapter 9 of the One-Eyed Man

 

Hek sighed, lowered her NetHand to her lap, and turned to Imp. “Ok, we just lied to our commanding officer and most of our team. Are you sure this will be worth it?”

Imp shrugged. “Of course not. I have no way to know that. But I do know that showing all your cards isn’t something you do, especially when there’s a cheater at the table.”

“We don’t know that,” said Cro. 

“Not for sure, we don't,” said Hek, “but it seems certain that the saboteur was on the flight with us. More than half of the team is at that camp, assuming they told us the truth, so by the simplest of calculations, it's more than even odds the saboteur is there.”

Cro nodded. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t much like it, but I get it. So, what now?”

“We’ve got a few hours of light left,” said Imp. “I’d planned for us to cover a few more kilometers, but this is a decent enough spot for a camp. Let’s get you two set up, nice and cozy. I’ll stay for breakfast, then head out in the morning.”

Imp was more relieved than he let on. The weeks he’d spent shepherding his injured comrades had been frustrating. Cro and Hek had both striven heroically, pushing themselves to the limits of what their damaged bodies could sustain, but still, they relied on Imp to do the work of two people. That didn’t bother him. No, what had been worrying Imp was the thought that he may not be equal to the task of getting them safely to the transport and (hopefully) to the other survivors. So far, the trip had been difficult, but not particularly dangerous. However, that could change in an instant. With two-thirds of the team hurt, retreat wasn’t a viable option in the event of conflict. Nor was pursuit. Their only tactically viable choice would be to hunker down and fight. With their limited stores of ammunition, it wouldn’t take much of an enemy to overwhelm them. A pack of predators or a small tribe of locals would be equal to the task.

The locals were there. Imp had seen signs, few and far between, but signs nonetheless. Whoever they were, their skill in woodcraft was at least on a par with his, and may well have been higher. He had no clue how many they were, or how close, or what their intentions may be, but he knew to a certainty that he, Cro, and Hek were being followed. This made the decision to move on his own more difficult, but the exigency of the saboteur had not gone away, and Imp had an opportunity to make an unexpected move in that game. 

“A card up your sleeve is worth two in your hand, but also mighty likely to get you killed.” That was another of his grandfather’s many sayings. Imp knew that his actions could have repercussions. Some he could predict, such as the immediate loss of trust for himself, Hek, and Cro once this deception was inevitably revealed to, or uncovered by, the rest of the outfit. He was also placing Hek and Cro’s survival at risk; should the locals following them mean to attack, leaving his friends behind provided an excellent opportunity. For that matter, the same logic applied to his own survival. There was strength in numbers, and he was abandoning that strength.

However, those points had their offsets. The crew members should be able to understand why caution and deception were warranted. And whoever was following them had had weeks to organize an effective attack. Balanced against the chance of being in a position to help uncover, capture, or otherwise interfere with the saboteur, Imp felt the potential benefits justified the risks.

Imp helped with the most strenuous elements of setting up the camp, then left Hek and Cro to finish up while he went in search of firewood. He worked late into the night, long past when the other two had fallen into exhausted slumber. In part, he was simply being a good companion; in part, he was trying to salve his troubled conscience.

Imp was the first one awake, which was normal. The pre-dawn surge of energy that ran through the jungle, awakening songbirds and stirring movement, also spoke to him. Awake in an instant, he gently slid from his bedroll, taking care not to disturb anything that may have joined him overnight to share his warmth. This morning, he awoke alone, but that wasn’t always the case. He checked quietly on Hek and Cro, then began stoking the fire and heating water for coffee as they crawled from their small tents.

He planned to head north for half the day before turning straight for the camp. That little dogleg should ensure that the chances of him crossing paths with the rescue team were negligible. He mentally ran over the list of supplies again, ensuring that Hek and Cro wouldn’t be lacking in the days before rescue arrived.

“Good morning, sunshine!” crackled everyone’s NetHands. “Nyx here. You both ok? Over.”

Hek responded “Good morning yourself, beautiful! We are a-ok. The coffee is hot, and we’re just starting to think about breakfast.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ll be heading out within the hour, and won’t be able to launch drones, so we’ll be out of communication for some time. Our best guess is that we’ll reach you in three days. We hope to be in radio contact in two. You going to be ok?”

“Affirmative. We have supplies for longer than that thanks to…” Imp interrupted her with a sharp chopping motion. Hek looked chagrined. “...thanks to careful management and a little bit of luck. We’ll be fine.”

“Copy that. Sit back and relax, as much as you can. Base camp over and out.”

“Over and out.”

Hek looked at Imp. “I almost let the cat out of the bag, didn’t I? Sorry about that.”

Imp shrugged. “Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” That was something else his grandfather had loved to say, although Imp was fairly certain the man had never used a hand grenade. “They may well figure out that someone has been helping you. You’ve come too far, too fast, for just the two of you in your condition. There are other clues too. If they confront you, trust your instinct. Come clean about me if you think it will help, or if keeping the secret compromises your standing or safety. But if they don’t push, stick with the plan.”

Hek and Cro nodded. Imp embraced each of them, then slipped into the jungle without looking back.

Alone in the jungle, Imp moved carefully for the first hour, trying to leave no sign of his passage. He didn’t expect the rescue team to be good enough to spot his trail even if he were careless, but there was no point in taking even a small chance. After an hour, he picked up his pace, trading stealth for speed. There was no reason to think the tank would be this far off course, and he wanted to reach the base camp in two days if possible. Figuring that the round trip rescue should take five to six days, maybe even seven, that would give him ample opportunity to observe the few people who remained behind and lessen his chances of being caught.

There wasn’t much point in thinking about the saboteur's identity; Imp had already turned the limited facts over and over in his mind. Without new information, there wasn’t much point to more speculation. Instead, he ruminated on the lack of drones. Between that, and the language of the communique from base camp, it was easy to infer that only one tank was operational. Why? There were two possibilities he could see easily. First, of course, was that the second tank was not available. It could be damaged, pinned in the wreckage of the aircraft, or even lost. All plausible enough in a crash scenario. The second was that Nyx, the only tanker reported to be in that camp, was keeping information about the tanks’ operational codes secret. That possibility opened up so many things to think about, but it boiled down to one core: Nyx didn’t trust the others at base camp. She was also keeping a card up her sleeve. That secret would be rendered useless just as soon as she returned to camp with Hek and Cro, but it was interesting to ponder that Nyx, his driver, also felt the need to use deception.

And speaking of Nyx, where was Lam? Those two were never out of arm’s reach if they could help it. If Lam had been injured or killed, Nyx would have told them. They could have gotten separated during the bailout, but Imp found that unlikely, which could mean that Nyx had another card up her other sleeve. Imp chuckled to himself. Did Grandfather even have a saying for double cheating? If so, Imp couldn’t remember it.

The continuous direction pulse from base camp stopped, telling Imp that the tank had rolled out. Its power system must somehow be integral to maintaining that beacon. He wasn’t worried, though; between magnetic and inertial tracking provided by his NetHand, plus his orienteering skill, he was confident he’d find the camp without difficulty. And, the evening of his second day, he proved himself right.

The smell of the campfire was his earliest warning that he’d arrived. Sometime later, the sounds of people moving about told him that he was close. He ghosted slowly through the underbrush up to the edge of the clearing, arriving in a fortuitous spot with a clear view of the communal fire. Apollo, Art, and El were all around it, settling down to eat. Imp gracefully folded himself to the ground to watch.

The camp was much larger than it needed to be, probably taking advantage of the extended swath knocked more-or-less clear by the crashing quad, which he could see gleaming at the opposite end of the base. Not too far from it roared a bonfire, probably a signal fire to help the lost soldiers find their way. The land had been cleared and flattened, and several tents erected. Crates were neatly stacked under tarps. It was clear that the folks here had put a lot of effort into improving the campsite as well as contriving to provide signals to the lost crew. That seemed like a positive development. If the saboteur’s goal had been to kill everyone, Imp would have expected to see a very different scenario. 

He stayed quietly in place until the others finished their meals and drifted off to bed. Apollo stayed up to take the first watch; Imp took that as his cue to melt back into the jungle’s dark embrace and begin circling the camp.

It was approaching midnight when he found Lam’s tiny hideout. She’d concealed it very well; her tent alongside the bole of a mighty fallen tree, using its limbs for shade and cover. She’d piled moss and leaves on it, making it nearly indistinguishable from its surroundings. There was no fire pit, no pile of gear, literally nothing to give it away, at least in the dark of the night. The truth is, Imp would have passed it by without a second glance if Lam hadn’t snored.

She was notorious for snoring; it was one of the many quirks that differentiated her from her twin. The three of them spent no small amount of time bivouacked together, sleeping in the field, and Lam’s snoring was a never-ending constant. Imp actually found the sound somewhat comforting, and Nyx had an immunity that came from a lifetime of exposure. Still, they harassed Lam incessantly. “You’re going to give us away to the enemy someday!”

Well, Imp wasn’t the enemy, but neither was he above delivering a good “I told you so!” He smiled to himself in the darkness, backing up to find a flat spot for his bedroll. There was no need to disturb her slumber; he’d see her in the morning.

 

 

Mahalo (thank you) for reading; I hope you enjoyed! This story is part of a series. Information on the series, and links to the other stories, can be found here.

 

[Sacrifice 2,278]

Welcome back to a new chapter of One-Eyed Man! Let's see in which direction the story stirs. Is Imp really the enemy? Well, there is only one way to find it out! Enjoy your read!