Herman yanked Michael off George. It turned on him and raked him. Hutch rammed the cutter into one of its legs as Herman collapsed.
Because she possessed the sole weapon, Hutch quickly became the focal point of the battle. She swung the laser blade with deft precision, discovering to her surprise that she enjoyed slashing the sons of bitches. Every time the weapon struck home, biting through flesh and blood, she knew an exhilaration quite apart from any emotion she’d felt before. The air was filled with shrieks and screams.
George staggered to his feet, covered with blood. Herman was bleeding from a dozen wounds. George saw him and bellowed with rage. The angels were all smaller than he, and lighter, and they went after him as he tried to go to Herman’s aid. He landed a series of furious punches on one. It bit down on his arm and hung on while he hammered it into unconsciousness, then shook it off, let it fall, and turned to go after the others.
But he was dazed. Hutch got to his side and drew him back. “Don’t be an idiot. Get to the airlock.”
She gave him a push and turned to help Herman. He lay still while the creatures clawed him, trying unsuccessfully to get through the Flickinger field. Hutch took a wing off one and the others came for her. Nick’s voice howled in her ear: “They’re killing Pete. My God, Hutch, they’re savages.”
Yes, they are. Pete was trying to fight off two attackers. He screamed as they took turns tearing at him. Inside his e-suit, blood oozed out of a dozen wounds. Briefly, his eyes met hers. It was a ghastly moment, the one she would carry out of the battle and never forget. Then, before she could get to him, he was down.
The sky seemed filled with wings and claws. Hutch was trying to fight her way forward, but something caught her shoulder, raked her, and Alyx’s voice sounded on the link, “Don’t, Hutch.” Almost hystericaclass="underline" “You can’t help him.”
Dammit, Hockelmann. I told you this would happen. She saw that George had a clear run at the airlock. Then the thing on her back was trying to get at her throat and saliva dripped out of its mouth. My God, it was Michael, who had looked so handsome moments before. She twisted around, hit him with the heel of her left hand, and drove the blade through his shoulder. He screamed and broke free and she went down, rolled over, and whipped the weapon against his thigh. He howled, gave her an outraged look, and fluttered off.
Pete was gone and she got up and charged the spot where he’d been while Alyx cried No, no, don’t do it. One of the things tried to get the cutter out of her hand and there was a brief frantic struggle, claws around her wrist, claws at her back, an arm around her throat. Then Tor was there and she was free again, still wielding the weapon, look out, she almost took out Tor, and they were backing toward the lander.
The things retreated a bit, gave them room. Behind them, Nick and Alyx dragged George inside, out of harm’s way.
One of the males got to Alyx, grabbed her by an arm. Wings beating furiously, it tried to wrestle her out of the airlock. Tor hit it with a wrench. Hit it again. Alyx spilled onto the ground. It was struggling with Tor when Hutch arrived. She jumped onto the ladder, brought the cutter down through a calf, slicing off a claw. More shrieks. And more brown blood fountaining. She slashed it again, and the thing let go and, pumping its wings furiously, rose into the sky, where one of its fellows attacked it.
Alyx was on her feet, climbing back up. Tor seized her wrist, and boosted her into the airlock. Hutch tumbled in behind her. Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her into the cabin. She heard the hatch close.
“No,” she cried, “Herman and Pete are still out there.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore.” Tor’s voice trembled. They could hear the things clawing at the hull, jamming knives into the windscreen, trying to pry it loose. Alyx took the cutter away from her and turned it off. “Bill,” said Nick, “take us up.” Blood ran down his face and arm.
“Acknowledge,” said Bill. The lander trembled as the engines came on. And it began to rise. The commotion outside became even more frenzied.
THEY RETURNED TO the Memphis to repair the wounded. Hutch and George were both clawed and gouged. They submitted to Bill’s patchwork ministrations, then took tranks and went to bed. When they were safely out of the way, Tor and Nick, against Alyx’s protests, took the lander back down, landed after dark, and recovered the bodies. They’d been hacked mercilessly and left by the river. Their Flickinger fields glowed when the lamplight hit them.
They were approaching the Memphis on the return flight when Bill’s voice came over the link. “I did not want to disturb Captain Hutchins,” he said. “But I thought someone should know. I found the other ring.”
Neither Tor nor Nick had any idea what he was talking about. “What’s the other ring, Bill?”
“Three more stealths. There’s another relay. Another outbound signal.”
Chapter 14
Passion makes us cowards grow, What made us brave before.
“WHAT DO YOU want me to say?” George hurled the question at her, across the common room. The wounds on his leg and both shoulders were cemented together and wrapped.
Hutch had said nothing to provoke the outburst, but he must have seen it in her eyes. Like him, she was glued together. Ankle, thigh, waist, and neck had been slashed. Alyx had given her another trank, and she’d slept soundly through a second night. The painkillers were working fine, but everything was secured to prevent movement.
Tor was with them, seated quietly at a console, reading something. He turned at the comment and looked first at George, then over at Hutch.
Everyone had studiously avoided discussing the judgment that had led to the event. Instead, there were only general comments. Never had a chance.
Damned savages.
“Nobody’s accusing you,” said Tor quietly.
“She is.”
Hutch was lying on her back, her head propped up on pillows. “Don’t push it, George,” she said.
“So what happens now?” asked Tor, trying to change the flow of conversation.
“We report in, fold our tent, and go home,” said Hutch.
The room grew still. “Can’t do that, Hutch,” George said evenly.
“What do you mean? What would be the point of hanging around here?”
“I wasn’t suggesting we hang around here. We’ve nothing to learn from these savages.”
“Isn’t that what this was supposed to be about? Go out and talk to the Others? Find out what they think?” She realized what he was contemplating. To the degree that the cement would allow her, she turned her head to look at him. “No,” she said. “This is the end.”
“You are employed by me, Hutch. I’ll decide when it’s the end.”
“You know,” she said, “I could shut this operation down anytime.”
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that? But you’re under contract. We have an agreement.”
“I don’t have to stand by while you kill yourself.”
Tor got between them and looked down at her. “Hutch,” he said, “we want to go on. To find out what this is about.”
To follow another outbound signal.
She closed her eyes and visualized the planet-wide receiver formed by the three stealths, collecting the transmission coming in from Point B, maybe adding something it picked up down in the country of the angels, relaying it over to a second planetwide system, a transmitter, composed of three more stealths, and forwarding the signal—Where? And to what purpose?