"Your obstinacy-joint and particular-brought yowl people to this juncture, " the tall stack of rings said.
"Destroying mere towns did not sway you, since your socalled Sacred Scrolls preach the,utility of tangible assets.
"But now, observe as our corvette strikes a blow atyow true underpinnings."
A glaring needle struck the Egg. Almost at once, waves of pain engulfed Lark's chest. Falling back with a cry, he tore at his clothes, trying to fling away the stone amulet hanging from a thong around his neck. Ling tried to help, but could not grasp the meaning of his agony.
The ordeal might have killed him, but then it ended as suddenly as it began. The cutting ray vanished, leaving a smoking scar along the Egg's flank.
Ewasx burbled glad exhalations about "a signal" and "gratifying surrender."
Lark bunched the fabric of his undershirt around the Egg fragment, wrapping it to prevent contact with his skin. Only then did he notice that Ling had his head on her lap, stroking his face, telling him that everything was going to be all right.
Yeah, sure it is, Lark thought, recognizing a well-meant lie. But the gesture, the warm contact, was appreciated.
As his eyes unblurred, Lark saw Rann looking his way, The big Danik had cool disdain in his eyes. Scorn that Lark would react so to the superficial wounding of rock. Contempt that Ling would soil her hands on a native. And derision that the Six Races would give in so easily, surrendering to the Jophur in order to salvage a mere lump of psi-active stone. Rann had already proved willing to sacrifice himself and all his comrades, to protect his patron race. Clearly, he thought any lesser courage unworthy.
Go kiss a Rothen 's feet, Lark thought. But he did not speak aloud.
The corvette had turned away from the Egg. Its transmission now showed the camera gaining altitude, sweeping above dark ridgelines.
The country was familiar. Lark ought to recognize it.
Lester Cambel . . . They're heading straight toward tester . . . and the boo forest. . . .
So. The sages had chosen to give up whatever mystery project kept them so busy at their secret base-the work of months-just in order to safeguard the Egg.
It shouldn 't be surprising. It is our holy site, after all. Our prophet. Our seer.
And yet, he was surprised.
In fact, it was the last thing he would have expected.
BlaJ, aae
SILENTLY, BLADE URGED HIS WINDBLOWN VEHICLE onward, hoping to arrive in time. . . . To do what? To distract the Jophur for a few duras while they burned him to a cinder, giving the Egg just that much respite before the main assault resumed? Or worse, to float on by, screaming and waving his legs, trying futilely to attract attention from beings who thought him no more important than a cloud?
Frustration boiled. Combat hormones triggered autonomic reactions, causing his cupola to pull inward, taking the vision strip down beneath his carapace, leaving just a smooth, armored surface above.
That instinct response might have made sense long ago, when presentient qheuens fought their battles claw to claw in seaside marshes, on the distant planet where their patrons later found and uplifted them. But now it was a damned nuisance. Blade struggled for calm, schooling his breathing to follow a steady rhythm, sequentially clockwise from leg to leg, instead of random stuttering gasps. It took a count of twenty before the cupola relaxed enough to rise and restore sight.
His vision strip whirled, taking in the dim canyons that made a maze of this part of the Rimmers. At once, he realized two things.
The balloon had climbed considerably in that brief time, | widening his field of view. '
And the Jophur ship was gone!
But . . . where . . . ?
Blade wondered if it might be right below, in his blind spot. That provoked a surging fantasy. He saw himself slashing the balloon and dropping onto the cruiser from above! Landing with a thump, he would scoot along the top until he reached some point of entry. A hatch thai could be forced, or a glass window to smash. Once aboard, in close quarters, he'd show them. . . .
Oh, there it is.
The heroic dream image evaporated like dew when he' spied the corvette, diminishing rapidly, heading roughly
northwest.
Could it have already finished off the Egg? Scanning nearer at hand, he spied the great ovoid at last, some distance in the opposite direction. It lay in full view now, a savage burn scarring one flank. The stone glowed along that jagged, half-molten line, casting ocher light across jumbled debris lining the bottom of the Nest. Still, the Egg looked relatively intact.
Why did they leave before finishing the job? He tracked the corvette by its glimmer of reflected starlight. I Northwest. It's beading northwest. Blade tried to think.
That's where home is. Dolo Village. Tarek Town. And Biblos, he then realized, hoping he was wrong. Things might have just gone from bad to worse.
wasx
THE THREAT WORKED, MY RINGS! | Now our expertise is proven. Our/my worth is vindi-' I cated before' the Captain-Leader and our fellow crew stacks. As I/we predicted, just as our bomber began slicing at their holy psychic rock, a signal came!
It was the same digital radiance they used last time, to reveal the g'Kek city. Thus, the savages attempt once more to placate us. They will do anything to protect their stone deity.
OBSERVE THE HUMAN CAPTIVES, MY RINGS! ONE OF them-the local male whom we,Asx once knew as Lark Koolhan-quailed and moaned to see the "Egg" under attack, while the other two seemed unaffected. Thus, a controlled experiment showed that I/we were right about the primitives and their religion.
Now the female comforts Lark as our cruiser speeds away from the damaged Egg, toward the signal-emanation point.
What will they offer us, this time? Something as satisfying as the g'Kek town, now frozen with immured samples of hated vermin?
The chief-tactician stack calculates that the sooners will not sacrifice the thing we desire most-the dolphin ship. Not yet. First they will try buying us off with lesser things. Perhaps their fabled archive-a pathetic trove of primitive lore, crudely scribed on plant leaves or some barklike substance. A paltry cache of lies and superstitions that simpletons dare call a library.
You tremor in surprise, O second ring-of-cognition? You did not expect Me to learn of this other thing treasured by the Six Races?
Well be assured, Asx did a thorough job of melting that particular memory. The information did not come from this reforged stack.
Did you honestly believe that our Ewasx stack was the only effort at intelligence gathering ordained by the Captain-Leader? There have been other captives, other interrogations.
It took too long to learn about this pustule of contraband Earthling knowledge-this Biblos-and the exact location remained uncertain. But now we/i speculate. Perhaps Biblos is the thing they hope to bribe us with, exchanging their archive for the "life" of their Holy Egg.
If that is their intent, they will learn. We will burn the books, but that won't suffice. NOTHING WILL SUFFICE.
In the long mn, not even the dolphin ship will do. Though it will make a good start.
aae
NORTHWEST. WHAT TARGET MIGHT ATTRACT THE aliens' attention that way?
Nearly everything I know or care about, Blade concluded. Dolo Village, Tarek Town, and Biblos.
As pale Torgen rose behind the Rimmer peaks, he watched the slim ship glide on, knowing he would lose sight of it long before the raider arrived at any of those I destinations. Blade no longer cared where the contrary winds blew him, so long as he did not have to watch destruction rain down on the places he loved.
A chain of tiny, flickering lights followed the cruiser as scouts stationed on mountain peaks passed reports of its progress. He deciphered a few snatches of GalTwo, and saw they weren't words, but numbers.
Wonderful. We are good at describing and measuring our downfall.
With combat hormones ebbing, Blade grew more aware of physical discomfort. Nerves throbbed where one of the urrish
hooks had ripped away skin plates, exposing fleshy integuments to cold air. Thirst gnawed at him, making Blade wish he were a hardy gray.
The balloon passed beyond the warm updraft and stopped climbing. Soon the descent would resume, sending him spinning toward a landscape of jagged shadows.
Wait a aura.
Blade tried to focus his vision strip, peering at the distant Jophur vessel.
Has it stopped?
Soon he knew it had. The ship was hovering again, casting its search beam to scan the ground below.
Was I wrong? The next target may not be Biblos or Tarek, after all.
But . . . there's nothing here! These bills are wilderness. Just a useless tract of boo-
He was staring in perplexity when something happened to the mountain below the floating ship. Reddish flickers erupted, like marsh gas lit by static charges, at the swampy border of a lake. Sparklike ripples seemed to spread amid the dense stands of towering boo.
What are the Jophur doing now? he wondered. What weapon are they using?
The flickers brightened, flaring beneath scores of giant greatboo stems. The ship's searchlight still roamed, as if bemused to find slender tubes of native vegetation emitting fire from their bottoms . . . then starting to rise.
The first thunder reached Blade as he realized.
It's not the fophur at all! It's-
The corvette finally showed alarm, starting to back away. Its beam narrowed to a slicing needle, sweeping through one rising column.
An instant later, the entire northwest was alight. Volley after volley of blazing tubes jetted skyward in a roar that shook the night.
Rockets, Blade thought. Those are rockets! The vast majority missed their apparent target. But accuracy seemed of no concern, so dense was the missile swarm. The retreating corvette could not blast them fast enough before three in a row made glancing blows.
Then a fourth projectile struck head-on. The warhead failed, but sheer momentum crumpled one section of starship hull, tossing it spinning.
Other warheads kept going off ahead of schedule, or tumbling to explode on the ground, filling the night with brilliant, fruitless incandescence. So great was the wastage that it looked as if the Jophur ship might actually limp away.
Then a late-rising rocket took off. It turned, and with apparent deliberation, drove itself straight through the groaning corvette.
A dazzling explosion ripped its belly open, cleaving the skyship apart. Blade had to spin a different part of his half blinded visor around to witness the two halves plummet, like twin cups filled with fire, to the forest floor.
More dross to clean up. Blade observed, as fires spread across several mountainsides. But his body was content to live in the moment, shrieking celebration whistles from all his breathing vents, competing with the gaudy fireworks to shout at the stars.
With qheuen vision, he could witness the corvette's destruction while also following as most of the missiles continued their flight-those that did not veer off course, or explode on their own. Dozens still thrust noisily into the upper sky, spouting red, flickering tails.
Blade screamed even louder when they finished their brief arc and turned back toward Jijo, plummeting like hail toward Festival Glade.
Only they soon found the way blocked by fierce tongues of fire. Lester and his companions had to retreat, back past sheltered work camps whose blur-cloth canopies were ablaze, where vats of traeki paste exploded one after another . . . along with some of the traeki themselves. Other figures could be seen fleeing through the clots of smoke as all the labor of months, spent creating a hidden center of industry, was consumed in a roiling maelstrom.
"There is no way out," the urs sighed.
"Then save yourself. I command it!"
Lester pushed her resisting flank, repeating the order until the corporal let out a moan and plunged toward a place where the flames seemed least intense. An urs just might survive the passage. Lester knew better than to try.
Alone with his young assistant, he huddled in the center of the clearing, holding one of her trembling wheels.
"It's all right," he told her, between hacking coughs. "We did what we set out to do.
"All things come to an end.
"Now it all lies with Ifni."
THE FOREST ERUPTED IN FLAME AROUND LESTEE. Failed missiles crashed back amid the secret launching sites, setting off explosions of withering heat and igniting tall columns of boo. South, a searing glow told where the shattered spaceship fell. Still, Lester held fast to the clearing where he and a g'Kek assistant had come to watch the flickering sky.
An urrish corporal galloped to report. "Fires surround us. Sage, you must flee!"
But Lester stayed rooted, peering at the fuming heavens. His voice was choked and dry. (
"I can't see! Did any make it to burnout? Are they on their way?"
The young g'Kek answered, all four eyes waving upward.
"Many flew true, O sage," she answered. "Several score are airborne. Your design was valid. Now there's nothing j more to do. It^s time to go."
Reluctantly, Lester let himself be pulled away from the clearing, into the planned escape route through the boo. i
Lark
THE EARLIER HOLOSCENES HAD BEEN CONFUSING, but these new images left Lark stunned, breathless, confused. He had no way to grasp the blazing spectacle . . . mighty tubes of boo, their bottoms explosing in flame . . . scores of them, jetting upward like a swarm of angry fire bees.
The distant camera veered as the corvette struggled to evade a volley of makeshift rockets. The view lurched so suddenly, Lark's stomach reeled and he had to look away.
The others seemed just as amazed. Ling laughed aloud, clapping both hands, while Rann's face mixed astonishment with dismay. Then what's happening must be good. Lark allowed a spark of hope to rise within.
Ewasx, the Jophur, vented gurgling sounds, along with snatches of Galactic Two.
. treacherous
unexpected
"Outrageous . . unforeseen!"
Tremors shook its composite body, quivering from the peak down to its basal segment. Most of the elderly, waxy toroids were familiar to Lark. Once, they composed a friend, a sage, wise and good. But a newcomer had taken over-a glistening young collar, black and featureless, without appendages or sensory organs.
Both Ling and Rann cried out. But when Lark turned around, the holoscene was all white-a blank slate.
"The corvette," Ling explained, her voice awed. "It's been destroyed!"
A shrill sigh escaped the Jophur. The tremors turned into convulsions.
Ewasx is having some kind of fit, Lark thought. Should I attack now? Strike the master ring with all my might?
Ling was babbling excitedly about "the other rockets-" But Lark had decided, striding toward the shuddering Jophur. His sole weapons were his hands, but so what? ,
Lester, you pulled off a fantastic wolfling trick. Asx would have been proud of you.
Just as old Asx would have wanted me to do this.
He brought back a fist, aimed at the shivering master ring.
Someone seized his arm, holding it back in a fierce grip.
Lark swiveled, cocking his other fist at Rann. But the bullheaded Danik only shook his head.
"What will it prove? You'd just make them angry, native boy. We remain trapped here, at their mercy."
"Get out of my way," Lark growled. "I'm gonna free my traeki friend."
"Your friend is long gone. If you kill a master ring, the whole stack dissolves! I knowthis, young savage. I've put it in practice."
Lark was angry enough to turn his attack on the burly Danik. Sensing it, Rann released Lark and stepped back,, raising both hands in a combatant's stance. I Yeah, Lark thought, dropping to a crouch. You're a stargod soldier. But maybe a savage knows some tricks you don't. '•
"Stop it, you two!" Ling shouted. "We've got to get ready-"
She cut off as a chain of low vibrations throbbed the metal floor-mighty f
orces at work, growling elsewhere in the vast ship.
"Defensive cannon," Rann identified the din. "But what could they be firing-?"
"The rockets!" Ling replied. "I told you, they're coming this way!"
Realization dawned on Rann, that sooners might actually threaten a starship. He cursed, diving for a corner of the cell.