“On no account,” Maddox said. “I was trying to signal Dravek to take that shot. Isn’t that right, Dravek?”

  “Yes,” Dravek said in a hoarse voice.

  “It appears he is lying,” the Eye said. “Yet why would Dravek lie about such a thing? Well, it is more than I can comprehend. This whole phase of my existence I view with contempt. I view it as an evil situation that I’ve borne with the greatest grace anyone can imagine. Now, Captain, I will do you the good favor of leaving you your life. Even though you have spoken to me and seen my degradation as a slave to these three vile forms, I will leave you with your life. Is that not suitable payment?”

  “About that,” Maddox said. “As you can see, the missiles of Leviathan or the Entity are fast approaching our ship.”

  “True, true,” the Eye said. “You are no doubt about to be made captives. It is unfortunate, but one must enjoy existence as long as he can. None of us lives forever, not even those of Helion. The crystals of Helion—we are perhaps the longest lived of all the Creator’s conceptions. But even we will know non-existence in the end. What I mean is that we all end the enjoyment of our senses. If the end comes quickly, if it comes slowly, it is all one, is it not? Existence is short against the forever of infinity. Thus, in essence, my long and glorious existence—minus this eon of filthy service to the Triad—will be but a blip in the extent of eternity. And your existence, these few days left you in freedom before you’re to be subjugated by those of Leviathan or the Entity—enjoy them while you can, Captain. In the long sleep of non-existence, what difference does long or short really mean? What does it really matter, let me ask you?”

  “That’s an excellent point,” Maddox said. “You must be something of a philosopher.”

  “Not something,” the Eye said. “I am the philosopher extraordinaire. That is surely true. You’re a man of some refined taste, even though you worked with these vile slave mongers. Well then, once again, I bid thee adieu.”

  “One last thing before you leave,” Maddox said.

  “Sir, must you keep interrupting my farewell speech? I like to depart with style, especially since I’m free. Oh, it is such a delight. No more, do this. No more, conjure us that. No more, send this guy into a— I won’t bore you with the details. Isn’t that how you say it? I won’t bore you with the information. Once again then, for the final time—”

  “If I could just ask you one tiny little favor,” Maddox said, as he put his thumb and index finger in front of his face, with just the tiniest of spaces between the two tips.

  “What is it?” the Eye asked impatiently,

  “If you could put us on the planet, on the surface, you know, so our feet are on the ground, and that we’re off the Moray. We’re tired of this vessel.”

  “You want me to do your dirty work for you, Captain? You want me to place you on the planet, so you do not have to figure out for yourselves what to do against the missiles?”

  “If you don’t mind,” Maddox said. “I’m sure Dravek would agree.”

  “Yes,” Dravek said in a hoarse voice.

  “What do you say, Eye?” Maddox asked. “Surely that’s a small matter for one of your profound abilities and powers.”

  “Flattery?” asked the Eye. “In this case…it will help you, Captain. Yes, I think I will do that. I think I’ll structure it such that as the first Soldiers land on the Moray, the ship shall detonate in a fantastic explosion, likely obliterating all the cybers. If any can reach the surface after that, more power to them, I say. That will still leave you with the Leviathan attack ships, which will surely come to collect you, now more than ever.”

  “You’ll give us a running start,” Maddox said. “We would really appreciate that.”

  “As you say, sir, as you say. Therefore, it will be done.”

  With that, there was a brilliant flash before Dravek and Maddox’s eyes.

  -31-

  When the flash dissipated, Maddox and Dravek found themselves on solid ground. Overhead, an orange sun burned brightly in a turquoise sky. Then the heat and humidity of the world slapped against them. This was vastly different from the controlled environment of the Moray. Every inhalation proved that.

  The two looked around. There were towering fern and frond trees with masses of flowery vines and creepers, a dense mat of vegetation, a green wall.

  “Take a look at that,” Dravek said.

  Maddox turned to view a huge chasm with vines and flowery vegetation growing up and down the immense sides. Across the green abyss was more massed jungle, endless fronds and ferns.

  “Where in the world did the Eye of Helion put us?” Dravek asked as he holstered his blaster.

  “On the planet Gath just like I asked,” Maddox said. “I guess I should have also asked what the planet was like. It didn’t seem prudent, though, as I didn’t want to the Eye to think about it too much. I didn’t realize Gath was such a humid jungle world.”

  “Neither of us has water, although I have a protein bar.” Dravek pulled it out of a pants pocket.

  Maddox had two protein bars, a blaster, the monofilament blade and clothes suitable to the Moray’s controlled environment. He wouldn’t have minded a hat and sunglasses. They were going to need water soon, as they’d already started to sweat.

  Maddox cocked his head. He heard—

  “Look,” Dravek said, pointing.

  Maddox turned.

  In the distance and from a bend around the giant green canyon appeared a fleet of gigantic helicopters. The double rotors were immense; the helo bodies a brown-green blend, perhaps for camouflage purposes. The massive helos seemed sluggish as they climbed from a lower elevation. The fleet was headed this way, at least in a general direction.

  Maddox and Dravek stood in an open area on a plateau, with the wall of jungle in one direction and the vast canyon in the other.

  “Look at that helo over there,” Dravek said, pointing again.

  Maddox spotted the open bay doors of a huge helo. Troops were crammed within, soldiers with rifles.

  “There’re at least fifty helos coming,” Dravek said.

  “They’re transport helos.”

  “We’re not on a completely primitive planet then.”

  “No,” Maddox said.

  “If the Soldiers from the missiles arrive on the planet, these people have the tech to kill them. Maybe that was why the Eye put us here, to give us protection.”

  “Could be,” Maddox said.

  The fleet of struggling helos seemed like pregnant cows, trying to reach the plateau so they could disgorge the troops. As the helicopters climbed, small jets appeared, roaring a hundred meters above the helo fleet.

  Out of the jungle on the other side of Maddox and Dravek, missiles thundered with lift-off noises.

  Both men ducked as they glanced back at the jungle.

  The sleek missiles streaked into the sky before veering and racing down at the helo fleet. Seconds before contact, missile warheads detonated. The shrapnel tore into the giant helicopters. A few simply disintegrated. Others lost nosecones or back parts. That caused the main fuselage to break apart or tumble down into the canyon. In many instances, soldiers poured out, limbs moving as they plunged with falling metal fragments around them. Amidst the blasts were the faint cries of the perishing.

  A barrage of counter-missiles and chaff bloomed in front of the surviving helicopters. Counter-missiles smashed against the larger helo-killing rockets coming in the second wave assault. The warheads of the helo-killers exploded against chaff, lessening their soldier-obliterating effectiveness.

  The small jets, which had surged ahead, unloaded a barrage of rockets into the dense jungle beyond Maddox and Dravek. In seconds, blasts sounded and the ground under their feet trembled.

  “This is a battlefield,” Dravek said. “The stupid Eye put us in the middle of a battlefield.”

  Maddox shook his head in disbelief.

  “So, what do we do?” Dravek asked. “Do we pick sides?”

  “How do you pick without any information?” Maddox crouched behind some foliage in relation to the approaching helos.

  Dravek had done likewise.

  Then, no more missiles rose from the jungle. The small jets circled the jungle as the remaining helicopters headed for Maddox and Dravek’s position. Now it was no longer a general direction but right for their plateau.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Maddox said. “We don’t want to get caught in any crossfire.”

  “Lead the way. I’m right behind you.”

  With Maddox leading, they plunged into the jungle, leaving the mighty canyon behind.

  Soon, the two were entangled among vines and creepers, trying to slither past or tear their way deeper. Roots twisted underfoot or sometimes rose as barriers they had to go around. It was hot and humid. As bad, they didn’t have any water. They had blaster pistols. They had their clothes, some ration bars and that was it.

  Maddox and Dravek were sweating profusely. Their clothes were soaked and grimy, and their lungs were laboring. Maybe as bad, their sense of direction seemed to have failed them.

  After a half hour of hard trekking, they exited the jungle, reaching another edge of the vast chasm. Far below, a green river snaked beside towering fronds and ferns. Bright-feathered birds moved in flocks, cavorting over the river.

  Maddox looked around as Dravek sat against a mossy rock, finding no evidence of helicopters, jets, or missiles, though smoke rose from the valley, concealed by dense foliage.

  “Do you hear anything?” Maddox asked.

  “You mean beside insects, birds and screaming jungle animals?”

  Maddox nodded.

  Dravek shook his head.

  “We must have got turned around. I have no idea where we are.”

  “This is no good,” Dravek said. “We’ll die from dehydration as quick as from missiles. We need to find a settlement or throw in with the military people. The soldiers looked human from what I could see.”

  Maddox frowned. “What do we know about this place? Factors bring down spaceship to pick up collected honey.”

  “That and hardwoods.” Dravek looked around. “This place is a paradise for trees—if this is any indication of the rest of the planet.”

  Maddox pondered the idea. “If spaceman came to Gath for trade goods, the items must be worth fighting over for the natives.”

  “That was what we saw all right.”

  Maddox shrugged. “I have no idea about what to do next. I’m simply extrapolating using the information we have.”

  “Didn’t Naxos say the honey extended one’s longevity?”

  “That’s right. That would make the honey tremendously valuable. Is that what the two sides are fighting over?”

  Dravek cocked his head. “Listen.”

  Maddox heard faint popping sounds. The pops grew in volume and merged—that had to be small arms fire. The soldiers using the weapons were clearly heading this way.

  “This is just great,” Dravek said. “What do you suggest now?”

  That was the question. Maddox was already parched. After the conditioned air of the spaceship, the planet’s humidity was overpowering. It felt strange to be on a planet again with dirt, slime, sweat and all the accompanying things that went with it. Diseases would be rife in the teeming jungle.

  The first soldiers in boots, camouflage fatigues, heavy backpacks, wearing leather helmets and carrying long rifles broke through the jungle foliage. Several saw Maddox and Dravek. They shouted, telling them to raise their hands as they aimed their rifles.

  “What now?” Dravek asked. “Do we run or surrender to them?”

  Maddox raised his hands. “Let’s see what they want. Before we make any decisions, we need to know what’s going on. Besides, I could use a drink.”

  “Yeah,” Dravek said, standing, raising his hands. “I’m dying of thirst.”

  They both watched as more soldiers, a mixed assortment of sorry-looking and tired men, came out of the jungle.

  -32-

  A squad escorted Maddox and Dravek to a burly soldier. He had a smaller backpack, lacked a rifle but had a sidearm and a huge machete belted at his side. He was looking at a compass and checking a map. He had chevrons on his fatigues that the others lacked; clearly indicating that he was the officer in charge.

  “Centurion Gricks,” a soldier said. “We found these two hiding behind some bushes. They won’t tell us what they were doing.”

  Gricks looked up. He had a broad seamed hard face and the bearing of a professional soldier. He eyed Maddox and Dravek, taking in their grimy sweaty garments and possibly noting their similar physiques.

  “Are you the advanced pathfinders?” Gricks asked in a deep voice.

  “Is that what you think?” Maddox asked.

  “Hey, funny boy,” Gricks drew his machete, holding the razor edge near Maddox’s throat. “You want to get cute with me? Do you want to lose your head? Where’s the enemy base? Have you seen any of their men?”

  Maddox shook his head.

  “What about you?” Gricks asked, pointing the machete at Dravek.

  “Not if he hasn’t,” Dravek said.

  Gricks scowled as he lowered the machete. “You’re two of the oddest-looking pathfinders I’ve seen. Where’s your water? Where’s your sensor equipment and directional gear?”

  “We lost it,” Maddox said. “That was why we were hiding.”

  Gricks swore bitterly. “Amateurs, that’s what the tribune gives me, amateurs. He sends me space scum and tells me to make a cohort out of them, one that can kill the Honey Men. What a joke. All right, you two clowns will fall in with us. Do we have any extra spring rifles?”

  “Yes, Centurion,” a soldier said.

  “Are you two pathfinders too proud to carry a spring rifle, or would you prefer I kill you right here?”

  Maddox took the heavy wooden rifle proffered him by the soldier and a bandolier of bullets. “Centurion, may I ask a question?”

  “It better be a good one.”

  “How many helicopters did we lose?”

  Gricks eyed Maddox. “Are you checking to see which way the wind blows? Is that it? Do you want to run if you think we’re out of luck? Let me tell you, pathfinder, there’s nowhere to run. Give ‘em more ammo. Load them up.”

  The soldier that had given Maddox the rifle and bandolier led them both to a pile, loading them up with more ammo.

  Maddox studied a bullet. There was no powder cartridge, just the slug of lead. “What is this anyway?”

  The soldier looked up at Maddox confused. He was a smaller, rangy man.

  “This,” Maddox said, shaking the rifle. “What’s it called?”

  “SGT-50,” the soldier said.

  “What does that mean?”

  The soldier frowned. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Humor me,” Maddox said.

  “It’s a Spring Gun Torsion-50. What did you think it was?”

  “Never mind that.” Maddox looked around. Gricks was well out of earshot. He wanted to learn the lay of the planet as quickly as possible. He hadn’t heard gunfire. This was something else. He thus asked a few pertinent questions and learned the spring rifle was simple, durable and easy to maintain.

  The stock was hardened wasp-wood, oiled against the humidity. The barrel, spring, piston and trigger had been forged from a rust-resistant alloy. When one pulled the bolt back, it compressed a heavy-duty spring. That also loaded a lead bullet from the tube into the chamber. Pulling the trigger released the spring and drove a piston forward. The air propelled the bullet out of the barrel at high speed.

  The SGT-50 had iron sights. Maddox doubted it was much use for long ranged fire, more a medium-ranged weapon. Sustained fire would mean working the bolt back and forth as quick as one could and reloading the tube as necessary.

  “Missiles incoming!” a soldier yelled.

  There was a growing hiss from the air, heading in their direction.

  “Hit the deck,” Gricks shouted, showing everyone what he meant by throwing himself prone onto the damp soil.

  Maddox and Dravek did likewise, clutching the ground as a missile barrage exploded above the cohort.

  Shrapnel whined all around them. Hit soldiers screamed in agony. Another barrage struck. There were more screams. Then, an eerie silence descended upon the cohort except for men moaning or crying out for aid.

  Gricks poked his head up.

  Maddox didn’t know what the man heard. His ears were ringing.

  “Get ready for an enemy assault,” Gricks shouted.

  Maddox peered into the jungle, straining to see evidence of any kind of enemy force.

  Gricks was up shouting orders, having corpsmen bandage the lightly wounded and give heavy sedation to the dying, stilling their screams. Soon, the cohort headed into the dense foliage of the jungle.

  Maddox and Dravek, clutching their spring rifles, fell in line near Gricks. The cohort must have numbered around three hundred effectives by now. They were an odd assortment, most of the men racially dissimilar to the rest.

  A few questions with nearby soldiers told Maddox what was happening. This was a mercenary force trying to storm Highland Honey Men, capturing depots full of honey if they could. Tribune Culain had hired desperate men, mostly spacemen stranded by the spaceport. That would explain the odd assortment of different racial types. The cohort was formed of men from many different worlds and star systems in the Heydell Cloud. A huge fleet of truly massive dirigibles—lighter than air balloons—had ferried the men and equipment from the Polar North to here, the Polar South of the planet. Culain had coordinated with other tribunes. This was to be a great, united effort to sweep the Highland honey depots. Unfortunately, strong winds, accidents, assassins and badly timed engine failures had plagued the united effort. Word had trickled down that Tribune Marx had already attacked and been annihilated. Other dirigibles were yet coming south. Tribune Culain had ordered a full assault. Thus, his legion, a little understrength, had thrown his five thousand soldiers into the assault. Cohort Gricks was one of the leading assault units.