Maddox didn’t tell the man it wouldn’t do that at night: the time to make things happen. He needed to get back to his team.

  Ophir must have noticed him heading toward the exit. “Captain Maddox, come stand here and advise me.”

  Maddox didn’t believe the airship was going to survive the missile assault. Thus, he nodded and waited a moment, remaining where he was.

  Ophir turned away to answer a woman officer.

  Maddox immediately moved for the exit.

  “Captain,” Ophir said.

  Maddox ignored Ophir and walked out.

  “Guards,” Ophir shouted.

  Maddox broke into a run, shouldering a person heading for the bridge out of the way. The man stumbled from Maddox and crashed against a bulkhead. Maddox didn’t see what happened next. He was running full tilt, moving fast, blowing past astonished people. He kept waiting for a loudspeaker to announce that he was under arrest. That didn’t happen.

  It was a long way to his quarters, however. The airship shook as more and more counter-missile left. How much time was left for them?

  A grim intuitive sense gripped Maddox. A missile was heading straight for the airship. He wasn’t going to make it back to his quarters in time.

  Maddox glanced about, spotting an emergency sign. He raced that way. Would it matter if he survived the airship? Metamorphs were surely heading this way on the ground to pick up any surviving meat.

  “You,” a guard shouted. “Halt!”

  Maddox twisted his head.

  Several armed guards raced after him.

  Maddox drew the heavy pistol, swiveled his torso and fired twice.

  Two of the guards crumbled onto the deck.

  “Don’t fire,” one of the fallen said. “Ophir wants him alive.”

  Maddox fired again, killing all three. It was unsporting to fight like that, but he was all alone again. He doubted any of his team was going to survive this. For Meta and Jewel’s sakes, he needed to survive, even if he needed to play dirty in order to do it. Besides, was it dirty to use an enemy’s restrictions against him?

  “No,” Maddox said.

  There was a horrific explosion. The deck shook as the airship shuddered. More explosions sounded from outside. The deck tipped one way and then another.

  Maddox hurled himself against a closed hatch. It exploded open against his weight and velocity. Soldiers turned to stare at him.

  “Arrest him,” one said. “Gallant Ophir wants him alive.”

  Once more, Maddox drew the pistol, firing and killing. He speed-loaded, fired again, used the handle like a club, and practiced savate kicks against the last few.

  Soon, no soldier survived the attack. Maddox looked around for survival gear that he’d need on the desert surface. There were none he could find. This was a screw up. The damned Yun was doing this.

  Maddox did find a parachute and donned it. He found breathing gear. They were high up in the thin air. He’d need this for what he planned to do.

  The airship sagged. Maddox felt his feet leave the deck. They were going down. With the parachute pack on his back, the mask on his face, and his gun holstered, Maddox yanked a lever on a bulkhead.

  A hatch blew out. Cold desert air flooded within. The rush of it pushed Maddox back within.

  “Meta,” he said into the howling wind. “Jewel. I’m coming home.”

  One step at a time, Maddox fought his way to the hatch. He didn’t know he’d survive the desert. But he certainly wouldn’t survive in a deflated airship going down.

  At last, he gripped the edge of the hatch and hauled himself hard and fast. He catapulted out of the falling dirigible, as it was no longer lighter-than-air.

  In the air outside, Maddox held himself in such a way as to slide and fly away from the deflating mass. The desert floor glowed silvery far below. He looked around and didn’t spy the second airship anywhere.

  It didn’t matter. Would Dravek or the others have escaped the doomed vessel? He had no idea, but he doubted Gricks or Eddings had done so.

  Maddox breathed deeply through the mask. He could sense the Yun gestalt intelligence all around him. He hated it. The mass mind fusion might have destroyed his chances of ever seeing his family again.

  Maddox put that out of his mind as he worked on doing this right. It was far too soon to pull the ripcord. He saw a few others making it from the falling and doomed airship.

  He had an idea that if anyone could do this, it would be Dravek. The man was his clone. Well, Maddox would wait to see. If Dravek was going to die—

  Maddox shook his head. He needed to concentrate on himself for the moment.

  Thus, after a short interval, he pulled the ripcord. The parachute exploded out and soon he drifted toward the nighttime desert. This could be a longer and more painful death than perishing in the airship when it hit.

  “At least it isn’t daylight yet.”

  Then, the ground seemed to rush up. Maddox judged it just right. He hit and rolled. He’d made it. Now, what was he going to do?

  -51-

  The first thing he did was gather his parachute and lines, pushing them into the pack. He didn’t want to advertise his position to others, even though he planned to be long gone before the sun rose.

  Afterward, he studied the starlit sky. No more missiles rose. No more counter-missiles came down. He didn’t see either airship, not in the dark sky or on the silvery ground with its scintillating motes of light.

  It was surprisingly cool on the ground, given that it had likely been one hundred and fifty this afternoon. It had to be a balmy eighty-five or so.

  He shrugged off his pack. He had water and food, but no desert gear other than a pair of sunglasses. That likely wouldn’t be enough protection from the sun during the day. The sun would blind him, particularly as the sunlight reflected off the sand. Given what he’d seen in the moonlight, daylight would be unbearable.

  He studied the stars. They were so different from anything on Earth. There was nothing familiar. A pang of homesickness struck. His only consolation was that he likely wasn’t going to be alive much longer to worry about it.

  He sought for any sign of the Metamorph mind fusion. There was something in the ether, but nothing he could pinpoint.

  What now?

  With a shrug, Maddox pulled out a compass and checked the heading. He might as well march north. That at least gave the semblance that he was trying to survive.

  He began to trudge over the sand, which crunched underfoot. There was the occasional hoot and then screech. Should he worry about the sounds?

  He came upon a dead Honey Man. He checked the corpse but found nothing of use. Then, on the wind, he heard the faintest of cries. It almost sounded familiar.

  Maddox stood and looked in all directions. There was nothing—

  He heard the sound again. It was a shout from a great distance. Could he be sensing his wife calling for him? Did Meta sense his approaching death?

  “Maddox,” he heard very faintly.

  Maddox scowled. Was he losing it here at the end? He didn’t want to think so.

  The call came again. It almost sounded as if he called himself. He smiled. Maybe Dravek called him.

  Maddox’s eyes widened. He tried to pinpoint the direction of the call. It came from the south.

  Maddox headed that way, walking fast.

  Soon, the call was easily audible. Dravek did call him.

  “Dravek,” Maddox shouted.

  He peered south and thought to see a man waving his arms in the moonlight.

  Maddox began to trot.

  Soon, he could easily make out Dravek. The man had a giant pair of binoculars and seemed to be watching him.

  Soon enough, the two men greeted each other on the silvery surface of Gath.

  “You old son of a gun,” Dravek said, hugging Maddox and slapping him on the back. “You made it.”

  “So did you,” Maddox said, clapping Dravek on the back in turn. “Did you jump from the airship?”

  “What else?”

  Maddox noticed a huge set of bags at Dravek’s feet. “What are in those?”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t have time to grab any desert gear.”

  Maddox shook his head.

  “I did have time. One of the bags is for you.”

  Maddox opened it and found stout desert boots and a suit of wind-resistant nu-fiber. There was headgear with a tight-fitting wind-cap and sun-goggles, together with blast flaps.

  “I’m beginning to think we can do this,” Maddox said, his morale rising. He began to don the gear.

  “Glad you think so. I’m not as sanguine. It must be three thousand kilometers or more to any settlement in the north. Plus, there must be hordes of Metamorphs between looking for meat to eat, meaning us.”

  “We won’t survive this by jawing,” Maddox said. “Do you have any weapons?”

  Dravek showed him a sub-machine gun. “I also have a few grenades. You have a hefty pistol it looks like. You serious about marching to the north?”

  “We might as well start now.” Maddox didn’t want to tell Dravek about Grandma Julia’s threat of launching nuclear-tipped missiles. Maybe she would hold back on that. The Leviathan assault vessels were still coming as well. What did he have for time regarding that? Maybe a week and a half at best.

  “It sure would have been good if the Eye of Helion had put us at the North Pole spaceport,” Dravek said. “We don’t even have this ancient weapon we started seeking. How far do you reckon it is from here?”

  “That’s a good question.” Maddox checked his compass and a small slate. He used the stars and triangulated. “The weapon site is about two hundred and fifty kilometers from here.”

  “Closer than three thousand kilometers to the North Pole,” Dravek said.

  “Any reason why you think we should try for the weapon site?” Maddox asked.

  “Plain cussedness,” Dravek said. “Why do you ask?”

  As they trekked by the light of two small moons, Maddox told Dravek what had happened in the ready room with Mara and the Yun People mind fusion.

  “Shit,” Dravek said more than once.

  “Any thoughts about all this?” asked Maddox when he was done.

  “We’re never getting to the North Pole, at least not on foot. We need an edge. I don’t think the mind fusion liked the idea of us getting near that ancient weapon site. Maybe there’s a good reason for that.”

  Maddox finally told Dravek about Grandma Julia’s nuclear missile threat.

  “The Honey Men are pricks to the end,” Dravek said. “Too bad we couldn’t nuke them.”

  “I’d rather go home.”

  “And live a few more years,” Dravek said. “We keep marching then?”

  “For as long as we’re able,” Maddox said.

  “How many hours to sunrise?”

  “Less than six,” Maddox said.

  “So, let’s truck while the trucking’s good. We’ll sleep while it’s hot.”

  “If we can sleep in such heat,” Maddox said.

  With that, they trekked in silence, marveling at the beauty of the Gath desert at night.

  -52-

  As Maddox and Dravek trekked through the moonlit wasteland, the captain was surprised to find more life than he’d expected. There were giant insects weighing two pounds each, with hard shells. They looked like rocks until the “jitterbugs” chirped like insane crickets. When Maddox stepped too near one, twenty exploded into the air with their glossy wings a-blur. A few brushed against Maddox’s face. He batted about, hitting one, knocking it down and squishing it with his boot. The buzzing and clicking intensified until the flying bugs disappeared into the night.

  Later, a lizard the length of Maddox’s arm lunged, revealing itself, and gulped one of the rock-like bugs, audibly crunching it as goo ran down its jaws.

  “Damned reptiles,” Dravek muttered.

  There were alien bats, big suckers, who often circled them before flying elsewhere as they made clicking noises. Maybe the weirdest things were long worms with sharp teeth. A few boiled up out of the sand when Dravek tossed a rock to the side. Three of the worms lunged and gnawed at the rock before leaving it alone. Dravek swore he saw one grin at him, with moonlight shining off its tiny piranha-like teeth.

  “The worms must be scavengers,” Dravek said.

  Maddox shrugged. The desert at night was eerily beautiful but far too deadly for his tastes. What would it be like during the day?

  “Do you hear that?” Dravek asked suddenly.

  Maddox looked at him.

  “It sounds like gunfire.”

  Maddox listened. It did sound like gunfire far in the distance. “Who’s firing at who?”

  “Should we try to find out?” Dravek asked.

  “Yeah,” Maddox said.

  A half hour later, they came upon a crashed pod, a thin metallic capsule the size of a small car. It had four crash-seats and torn restraints within, with a huge parachute held by fiber lines outside. The chute rippled in the soft desert breeze.

  “That must have come from the dirigible,” Dravek said. “It’s a way to insert troops without having to land the airship.”

  “This drop pod is empty,” Maddox said.

  Dravek had a flashlight, shining it within. There were blood and bullet holes everywhere.

  “Hey, look at that,” Dravek said.

  He shined the light on a grotesque, leathery hand twice the size of Maddox’s. It lay behind a seat and had black lacquered fingernails.

  “Is that a Metamorph’s hand?” asked Maddox.

  “It was severed,” Dravek said. “Look at the wrist. A blast tore it off. From a grenade, I bet. There should be bodies in here. What happened to them?”

  Maddox thought about that. “I think I understand.”

  “Care to tell me?”

  “The Metamorphs are cannibals. The drop pod carried men. Some of the Honey Men must have gotten into this before the airship disintegrated or folded in on itself. The pod floated down and landed, and some Metamorphs arrived and killed the men. Or worse, the Metamorphs captured the men alive.”

  “Why would that be worse?” Dravek asked.

  “Didn’t you hear me? The Metamorphs are cannibals. Eddings said the Metamorphs take survivors into a subterranean larder and fatten them for however long it takes. Then, they roast them in their own fat and eat the regular humans at a feast.”

  “That’s disgusting. Should we do something about it?”

  “Sure,” Maddox said. “Let’s call the cavalry. Oh, wait. What cavalry? We’re it.”

  Dravek wasn’t listening. He scanned the night sky. “Do the Metamorphs have air sleds? I guess what I’m asking is how are they maneuvering?”

  “An excellent point,” Maddox said. “Let’s walk around the pod in a widening circle and see if we can find anything.”

  Soon, they found wide tire marks in the sand.

  Maddox thought about that. “They must use balloon-tired vehicles. The balloon tires make sure the vehicles don’t bog down in loose sand.”

  “Okay, okay. Do you think the Metamorphs are searching for more drop pods?”

  “Without a doubt,” Maddox said. “The gunfire we heard means some of the people have enough time to collect their arms and fight, however much good it does or did them.”

  Maddox could have said more on the subject. He decided to wait. He sensed the Yun mind fusion roving or sweeping the silvery landscape for prey. It was an eerie, fantastical sensation.

  “Look over there,” Dravek said.

  Maddox looked where Dravek pointed. There were bright flashes in the distance. He heard the distinctive sound of gunfire, lots of it.

  The two looked at each other.

  “What do we do?” Dravek asked.

  “We need others if we hope to survive the desert,” Maddox said. “Let’s see if those others can use some help against the Metamorphs. There’s another thing: the more we know about this place, without getting captured, the better for us. We need to investigate this.”

  The two began to trot, using a long-legged lope that was Maddox’s trademark. For once, he was with a man who could match him stride for stride. Dravek was not only as fast and long-legged as Maddox, but had his endurance, perhaps a little more. They covered the silvery landscape quickly even as they began to perspire.

  Soon, they perceived four, no, five black shapes: big, almost square shapes but with rounded contours. They were enclosed vehicles or vans with huge balloon tires. The black vehicles had parked. From the top of one, through a hatch perhaps, was a Metamorph firing a long-barreled heavy machine gun on a swivel mount. The machine gun must have produced the flashes they’d seen earlier.

  Both men dropped to the sand and lay prone. Dravek dug out a night scope, examining the vehicles through it.

  “Yep, Metamorphs are killing regular people. Three drop pods landed together in a group.”

  An electric bullhorn powered up. A Metamorph shouted through it. Perhaps he was telling the men to lay down their weapons and surrender.

  Almost as soon as Maddox thought that Dravek announced, “The men are coming out of the drop pods. They’re pitching their weapons onto the sand and standing in a file. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

  Maddox realized why he’d just thought about surrender now. The mind fusion was focused on the men. It must have found them and now mentally worked against them. Thus, they were foolishly surrendering. A trickle of the focused enemy thought must have seeped to him.

  Maddox wanted to jump up and run to them, telling the men to fight to the death. Instead, he kept lying there as Dravek told him how the Metamorphs drove forward and loaded the limp survivors into the vehicles.

  Abruptly, the vehicles sped backward, turned around and gunned it. Maddox heard the engines roar. The Metamorphs drove away into the night like cops responding to a call.

  “What was that about?” Maddox asked.

  “They’re going somewhere important in a hurry.”

  “Let’s check the drop pods for weapons.”

  “Good thinking,” Dravek said.

  They got up and headed to them. Inside the pods were smears of blood and machine gun-riddled corpses.