Directly above the flitter was a camouflaged hole that leaked starlight. It would be a simple matter to leave the cave, except for one thing. “Where’s the card-key, Zimmerman?” she demanded.

  “Isn’t it in the slot?” asked Zimmerman, smiling.

  “No.”

  “Carry me into the flitter and I’ll tell you where it is.”

  Sarah made no move. She glared at him. “You tell us now, or we leave you here for the killbeasts to sniff out.”

  “I don’t want you to be tempted to leave me behind.”

  “I’ve never been more tempted to do anything in my life, but you will tell me now, before I carry your sorry ass another foot. I can hot-key a flitter, you know. As you continually point out, I am a smuggler.”

  Zimmerman looked concerned. “It would take longer.”

  Sarah only shrugged. Behind her, the skald had boarded the flitter and now sat quietly in the back.

  Zimmerman chewed his lips and eyed her speculatively. “All right,” he sighed at last. “The codekey is in the flare kit, attached to the back of the hatch.”

  Sarah snorted at the obviousness of the hiding place and went to retrieve the key. She stood there in the hatchway, looking back toward Zimmerman where he lay on the floor, still on the makeshift stretcher. He was doing his best to look pitiful. She moved to wave the skald forward to help carry Zimmerman again, when a heavy cough sounded outside the cave mouth.

  “Landshark,” hissed Bili, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her into the flitter. Sarah’s mouth sagged. It must have tracked them, stalking them while they moved through the forests and following their spoor down into the gully. Wildly, she thought of the story of the boy who cried wolf once too often.

  She stepped out of the hatchway, moving to help him, but she was too late. The landshark was already thrusting its snout into the cave mouth. A great bulbous head appeared, blocking the entrance almost entirely. Powerful forelimbs with six-inch curved claws made for digging followed.

  “Let’s go, Mom!” shouted Bili.

  Zimmerman, terrified as deeply as he had been during the feasting, found the strength to struggle erect. Trembling with the effort to lift his bulk on one thin leg, he determinedly began to hop toward them, dragging his injured leg behind him. The landshark caught up with him in a sudden lunge, just as he reached the barrels full of blur dust. They went over with a crash, firing great clouds of bluish dust into the air.

  In horror, Sarah slammed the hatch shut before the dust could reach them. There was no hope for Zimmerman now. Breathing in that much blur dust at once was definitely fatal. A few grains of the hallucinogen could keep you high for hours. Breathing in gouts of it was deadly. She doubted if even the landshark would survive.

  With a great gulping motion, the landshark sucked the man into its toothy maw, making jerking motions as his legs vanished into its head.

  Demonstrating its initial effects, the blur dust gave Zimmerman a sudden rush of inhuman vigor. Although he was already mortally wounded, he beat at the head of the monster with wild fury. Savage blows rained around its eyes and the sensitive olfactory regions, making it wince. Sarah thought that Zimmerman was probably breaking the bones in his hands, but he kept on striking it, even as his life’s blood gushed out.

  Then she managed to shove the codekey into the slot and hit the throttle for emergency lift. The flitter shot out of the shaft and into the open night air.

  After a few minutes she managed to steady the wobbling craft and set a course for Grunstein Interplanetary.

  Beneath them the treetops swept by with blinding speed. She hugged as close to the leafy canopy as she dared, hoping to avoid detection. None of them spoke about what they had left behind in the smuggler’s cave.

  #

  Long after midnight, Drick was awake and back at his old desk. To his delight, he found his portable holoset and his flask of blur distillate were still there, although more than half of the moonshine had leaked out. The holoset was a disappointment as well, as all the net stations were out except for the automated ones that showed only the most dull comic reruns at this time of night. Not surprisingly, KXUT hadn’t been heard from since the building had been bombed.

  The vaporous distillate had lost none of its flavor however, and with a heavy contented sigh, Drick loosened his sash and leaned back in his self-contouring chair. Suddenly, he sat up with a brilliant idea. Keying in his account codes, he accessed the public net and coaxed the computers into providing him with a private viewing of last week’s rayball game. He had been interrupted with the invasion at that point and had missed it. Damn the price, what did a few credits matter now?

  He sipped his distillate and heaved another sigh as the holoset flickered, bringing the correct image up. Hot numbness washed over his mouth and took the edge off his tension. He had been tense for days now, he realized.

  Bauru took an early lead in the game, scoring two goals from the third tier in the first period. The Dragon defense was hard-pressed to hold them, and when the Dragons finally got the puck, it took several minutes into the second period before they managed their first goal. Although his team was losing, Drick was happy. For the first time in a week he was comfortable and relaxed. He took another heavy slug of the drug, knowing it was too much, but wanting to do it anyway.

  When the security plate glowed into life, it displayed what had to be the most unwelcome sight Drick had ever seen. It was a mechanical nightmare, a draconian battlesuit of some kind with a mouth that glowed with an unnatural blue radiance.

  “Gi?” he questioned out loud, recalling vague memories of the thing from his great Aunt’s estates. The distillate had dulled his wits. He took another drink, and was surprised to discover he had drained the flask. He was alarmed just a bit, realizing that he had taken too much, but then the feeling of alarm faded as the drug fell over him like a veil.

  “I am bringing my army to the spaceport,” she told him, her voice oddly disembodied from the alien image on the holo-plate.

  “What do you want here, Gi?” asked Drick, his voice slurring slightly. He glanced down at the flat flask, but it was still sadly empty. With a studied concentration, he worked to replace the stopper. It seemed a difficult task.

  “I’m not Gi, you idiot! I’m Mai Lee!” she boomed in irritation.

  Drick squinted at the wavering holo-plate. He realized with a dull lack of concern that his vision had faded somewhat, a clear sign of a heavy blur dose. “Oh yes. How are you doing, Auntie?”

  Mai Lee made a sound of infinite frustration. “Listen to me carefully, my drunken, imbecilic nephew. Tell me where Droad is.”

  “The Governor?”

  “Yes,” Mai Lee hissed through her teeth.

  “He’s at the fort.”

  “All right, good. I am bringing in several lifters and helicopter gunships. You must drop the security nets on the western side of the complex so that we can come in over the trees without detection.”

  Drick blinked at her in incomprehension. At length, she managed to get her message across. Accustomed to obeying his Aunt and almost beyond resistance in any case, he gave the appropriate orders to the handful of men who Droad had left in charge of the spaceport.

  Having finished, he managed to key-off the pause button on his holoset and settled back to watch the remainder of the rayball game. The roar of arriving lifters and the heavy tramp of armored feet outside his office did little to interest him. It was the final period, and the Dragons had finally regained their fighting spirit. With two quick goals, they could still win the game. Drick was hardly able to make out the tiny figures on the holoset, his eyes were tearing up so badly. Streams of drying tears were cold on his cheeks.

  There was a pounding on the door. He didn’t respond until it crashed inward. A fantastic creature ducked its head as it entered. The tail twitched with the whining of servos, balancing the metal monster on top of the shattered door.

  Behind the creature there was the flash and boom of gunfire. Men screamed and died. Drick struggled to grasp what was happening, but found it difficult to think.

  “Follow me to the elevator.”

  Drick blinked dazedly. “Where are we going, Auntie?”

  Mai Lee snorted. “To the Gladius, you moron. The clan is leaving this world. Will you attend me?”

  Drick struggled to his feet. His thigh hit the corner of his desk, the flask and the holoset clattering to the floor. “Could you help me?”

  Mai Lee looked at him for a moment, metal tail twitching. “You disgust me. If you can’t make it to the elevator by yourself, you are best left behind.”

  Her claws left heavy scars in the broken door. Drick was left to struggle to his feet alone. Feeling only the vaguest sense of urgency, Drick found the holoset with his groping hands. He reactivated it, relieved to find it still worked. For a time he forgot completely about Mai Lee, and sat on the floor, watching the end of the rayball game.

  An unknowable time later he awoke to discover he was staring at a blank plate. Only a ghostly green nimbus shimmered over the set, the holo equivalent of static.

  The intercom was beeping. That was what had finally sunk in. With infinite slowness and a mild feeling of annoyance, he answered the call.

  “Major Lee?” said a voice. An image of a man’s face stared out at him, but Drick couldn’t make out who it was.

  “Droad?” he guessed.

  “Listen very carefully, Major Lee. You have to shut down the elevators immediately. The lifters coming in now aren’t manned by Mai Lee’s troopers, Jarmo tells me they are alien forces. They mustn’t be allowed to board the Gladius.”

  “What?”

  “Shut down the elevator, man! That is an order!” Droad boomed at him.

  “Everyone’s yelling tonight,” muttered Drick. “I’m in charge of this installation, Droad. This is my post. I will not halt the elevator while my Auntie is using it.” He sneered at Droad’s wavering likeness in suspicion. The man thought he was God.

  Droad fumed for a moment, then continued in a slow, gentle voice. “Listen, you must listen. The aliens are coming right in on you, I can’t raise anyone else at the spaceport, and you’ve got to keep them from getting to the Gladius.”

  The man’s kind demeanor didn’t fool Drick. He was clearly just trying to get him into trouble with his Auntie. Drick was having none of it.

  “You’ve got no authority with me, no matter what the identity computers say,” said Drick, waving his empty flask at the image. He swung the flask at Droad, wacking the air where the holo shimmered. He stabbed the cut-off button and stood up. He almost fell again, but managed to keep up, pin wheeling his arms and staggering. He worked his way across his office, then pitched headlong over something in the doorway. His teeth cut into his lips and blood ran down his chin. He felt about, more than half-blinded, discovering that he was lying on the smashed door. He lay there for a considerable time trying to gather his wits. Behind him the intercom beeped incessantly.

  Then there was a crash down the hall, followed by the heavy thump of running feet. He tried to raise his head, gave up, set it back down again.

  A dark shape ran by. Several more followed it. There was an odd stink in the air. Then there was another presence, coming up behind him. He struggled to turn his head. He felt the light touch of something rubbery and wet, probing against his back. He managed to turn his head to face it.

  There was a shrade sitting on his back, staring at him. A quivering set of mandibles tasted his blood. A dozen sets of stubby legs suddenly stiffened, became sharp, stabbed into his flesh. Fiery pain raced through his dulled nervous system. The constriction began and his ribs crackled. Breathing became impossible. He struggled in silent, vague horror, unable to believe until the very end that what was happening to him was real.

  #

  “They’re all aliens? You’re sure?” asked Droad. He continued to stir his hot caf and blow into it, but it had long since grown cold.

  “Absolutely. Not one of those flitters or escorting gunships is manned. They’re all heading right in on the spaceport, dropping the troops and heading back to the forests for more. The radio emissions system I rigged up to detect the enemy is lit up like a star cluster,” said Jarmo, his eyes never leaving his graphic projections. “We can’t let any more of them get to the Gladius, sir. I believe the orbital station is already compromised.”

  Droad glanced at him and nodded. He looked out of Fort Zimmerman’s north tower window toward the spaceport. Shooting up into the cloud layer was the ever-present shaft of shimmering metal that represented so much effort on the part of the colonists. Halfway up to the clouds, a large flock of air-swimmers serenely floated around it in a spiral pattern.

  The elevator was Garm’s greatest link to space, to the Nexus, and to the rest of humanity. By itself, it represented a great achievement of human technology, and was doubtless the most significant positive thing the people of Garm had ever created.

  “Have we secured all the flitters capable of reaching orbit?”

  “Yes sir, they have all been moved from the spaceport into the Fort compound. Others exist, however, around the colony.”

  “Tell Dorman to hit the elevator with his Stormbringers, but not to overdo it. He must at least break the shaft up until it is unserviceable,” said Droad in a dull voice. He was uncharacteristically glum. His eyes were dark with fatigue and his face white and drawn. His first governorship was fast turning into one of the greatest disasters in human history. Even if the enemy could be stopped, the damage to the colony would take more than his lifetime to repair.

  Jarmo relayed the orders and the two watched as the Stormbringers streaked to the attack. The planes themselves were invisible due to their great speed, of course, but the atmospheric conditions were right for contrails today, and so their progress could be tracked by the eye. Enemy aircraft rose up like angry wasps to meet them, but the shaft was really an indefensible target. Crimson explosions blossomed about the base of the shaft. The spaceport was quickly reduced to burning ruins.

  “Now, we must decide our next move,” said Droad. He tasted his hot caf, found it to be cold caf, and poured himself a fresh cup. He reflected that the sole thing he had enjoyed about this post so far was the excellent beverages that the tropical climate of Garm produced.

  Jarmo sat back. “I would estimate that a fairly large number of the enemy has gotten aboard the Gladius. Mai Lee led the remains of her personal army up there as well, but I believe she will be sorely outnumbered.”

  “Even with the security forces on the ship?”

  Jarmo made a wry face. “According to the mech Lieutenant’s report, they are less than adequate to fight the aliens.”

  “So you recommend that we go to the aid of the Gladius? Or are you suggesting that we get aboard that ship and save our skins?”

  Jarmo frowned, leaned forward. His serious eyes engaged the Governor. “Sir, I think it’s time we faced certain realities. We are losing this war. It is clear that the aliens reproduce new warriors at a rate that we can’t counter. We had the upper hand at first—”

  Here Governor Droad interrupted with a snort. It did not seem to him that they had ever had the upper hand.

  “—due to our superior numbers and firepower. However, the enemy have continued to grow in strength, coming back after each battle with greater forces. This is not just our experience, but from all the reports I have monitored around the planet.”

  “And while they grow stronger and use equipment captured from us, we have no more troops once we are fully mobilized.”

  “Yes, exactly. You see, if their numbers were to stop increasing right now, we could probably handle them. But of course, they will not. My calculations indicate that their numbers will double again in the next six days, even accounting for casualties.”

  “But if we can just get to the source of their reproduction, to their queens, we could stop them,” argued Droad.

  Jarmo nodded his huge head, but the frown didn’t leave his face. “This is exactly what Mai Lee was attempting, and a good strategy it was. But according to the data I have gathered about the enemy movements, it’s almost pointless. The alien numbers are now growing at several points around the planet, indicating they have many queens, and that they are breeding more even now.”

  The Governor put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. He placed his heavy boots on the holo-plate and crossed his legs. Tipping his hat over his eyes, he thought hard. He always found thinking easier in a relaxed position.

  “And there is another thing,” Jarmo said.

  “What?”

  “Our supplies of ordinance and equipment are already dwindling.”

  Droad tipped the brim of his hat up to eye him.

  “The main way we are keeping the aliens from overrunning us now is with greater firepower. But Garm has never planned for a long term conflict. The armories are well-stocked, but once the missiles are gone for the Stormbringers, for instance, there will be no more. Once we are down to hand-to-hand conditions, there can be no doubt which side will win.”

  Droad seemed to deflate somewhat. “You are telling me that we are doomed. That we can’t win.”

  Jarmo made no answer.

  “Let’s examine the options. Nuclear weapons?”

  “Very few available. Even with the NCC proscription against them, there are a few on the planet, but all of tactical-level yield. Those that do exist are mostly hidden somewhere out of our reach on the Slipape County estates.”

  “Evacuation?”

  “The Gladius is the only ship capable of carrying a large percentage of the colonists. Unfortunately, evacuation will take time, weeks at least, and I doubt the aliens will allow us that.”

  “All right, so what are they going to do?”

  “I believe they will make an all out effort to take the Gladius. I believe they will leave the system at the first opportunity and carry their seeds to the rest of the Nexus.”