Ashly Hanson came through the airlock tube from the spaceplane and drifted straight into the barrel of a laser rifle. Warlow was holding it, aiming it directly at his forehead.
Sorry, the hulking cosmonik boomed. But we have to be sure.
Ashly realized there was a fission saw plugged into his spare left elbow socket, a glowing saffron blade nearly a metre long.
Sure of what?
Warlow rotated his principal left arm around the blade. He held a processor block in his hand. Datavise something into this.
Like what?
Anything, doesnt matter.
Ashly datavised a copy of the spaceplanes maintenance record.
Thanks. It was Joshuas idea. From the reports weve had it looks like they cant use their neural nanonics.
Who cant?
Spaceplane pilots who have been sequestrated.
Oh, God. I knew it, they can intercept our communications.
Yes. Warlow executed a perfect mid-air roll, and headed for the airlock tube. Im going to check the spaceplanes cabin, make sure you didnt bring any up. Nothing personal.
Ashly eyed the decks ceiling hatch. It was locked, red LEDs blinking to show the manual bolts were engaged on the other side. The invaders are up in orbit?
Yes. Busy hijacking starships.
Whats Smith doing about it?
Nothing. A naval squadron has arrived, it is in their hands now. They have aborted our mission. Oh, and were under arrest, too. His diaphragm rattled a metallic approximation of a chuckle.
The whole fleet? They cant do that. Were operating under bona fide contract to the Lalonde government.
No, just the Lady Mac .
Why us? But he was talking to a pair of disappearing horned feet.
Erick? Erick, are you receiving this?
His organs are critical, heading for all-out cellular collapse. For Gods sake cancel that suspension program.
Got it. Physiological data coming through.
Program the nanonic packages for total cranial function support. We have to sustain the brain. Andr, where the hells that plasma? Hes lost litres of blood.
Here, Madeleine. Erick, you wonderful crazy Anglo . You got them, do you hear me? You got them!
Mesh the infuser with his carotid.
It was magnificent. Pull one little lever and all of them, baboom , dead.
Shit. Desmond, slap a nanonic package on that stump, the epithelium membrane isnt strong enough, hes leaking plasma everywhere.
His lungs are filling up too, they must be ruptured. Up the oxidization factor. His brain is still showing electrical activity.
It is? Oh, thank God.
Erick, dont try and datavise. Weve got you. We wont let you go.
Do you want to put him in zero-tau?
Hell, yes. Were days from a decent hospital. Just let me try and get him stabilized first.
Erick, my dear one, dont you worry about a thing. For this I will buy you the best, the greatest, clone body in Tranquillity. I swear. Whatever the cost.
Shut up , Captain. Hes in enough shock as it is. Erick, Im going to put you back under. But dont worry, everything is going to be just fine.
The last of the six aerovettes stopped transmitting. Reza Malin upped his cranial audio receptors to full sensitivity, trying to hear the noise of the little vehicles impact. The sounds of the jungle invaded his braininsect chirps, animal warbles, leaves cracklingfiltered and reduced by discrimination programs. He counted to ten, but there was no crash.
Were on our own now, he said. The aerovettes had been sent off to the west at a fast walking pace as a decoy, giving the scout team time to melt away into the jungle. He had guessed the invaders could track anything electronic; as Ashly said, if they could create the cloudbands, they could do almost anything. They werent invincible though, the fact that the team had landed was proof of that. But they were definitely going to provide a formidable challenge. Possibly the greatest Reza would ever face. He liked that idea.
His two hounds, Fenton and Ryall, were slinking through the undergrowth two hundred metres ahead of the scout team, sniffing out people. So far the jungle had been deserted. Pat Halahans affinity-bonded harpy eagle, Octan, was skimming the treetops, retinal implants alert for the slightest motion below the fluttering leaves. The animals provided a coverage almost as good as the aerovettes.
The team was following a danderil track, heading roughly north-east towards its operational target, the Quallheim Counties. Sal Yong was leading, brushing through the dense vines with barely a sound. With his chameleon circuit activated it looked as though a heavy miniature breeze was whirling along the track. The other six followed quickly (Theo was up overhead somewhere), all of them loaded down with packs, even Kelly. He was pleased to see she was keeping up. If she didnt, it would be a maser pulse through her brain, which would upset some of the team. But he wasnt having a liability of a reporter holding them back. He wondered if she realized that, if it lent a note of urgency to her steps. Probably. She was smart enough, and her bureau chief would certainly have known the deal. So would Joshua, for all his youth, wise beyond his years.
Fenton arrived at a river, and peered out of the bushes lining the steep bank. Reza requested a chart from his inertial-guidance block, and confirmed their position.
Pat, theres a river one eighty metres ahead, it leads into the Quallheim eventually. Send Octan along it to check for any boat traffic.
Right. The voice seemed to emerge from a small qualtook tree.
Are we going to use it? Ariadne asked, a clump of knotted tinnus vines.
Yes, providing Octan says nobody else is. Its narrow enough, good tree cover. We can cut a day off our time. He called silently to his hounds, and ordered them to cut back behind the team, covering their rear.
They reached the river three minutes later, and stood at the top of the four-metre bank.
What is that stuff? Jalal asked.
The water was clotted with free-floating fleshy leaves, pure white discs a couple of metres in diameter, a tiny purple star in their centre. Each had an upturned rim of a few centimetres, natural coracles. They bobbed and spun and sailed calmly along with the current, undulating with the swell. Some overlapped, some collided and rebounded, but they all kept moving along. Upstream or downstream, whichever way the team looked, the river was smothered in them.
Kelly smiled inside her shell-helmet as the daylight dream of her Lalonde didactic course came slithering into her conscious thoughts. Theyre snowlilies, she said. Quite something, arent they? Apparently they all bloom at the same time then drift downstream to drop their kernel. It really screws up the Juliffe basin for boat traffic while theyre in season. She tracked her retinal implants along the river. It was all going into a neural nanonics memory cell, scenes of Lalonde. Capturing the substance of a place was always important, it gave the report that little edge, adding to reality.
Theyre a bloody nuisance, Reza said curtly. Sewell, Jalal, activate the hovercraft; Pat, Ariadne, point guard.
The two combat-adepts unslung the big packs they were carrying, and took out the programmed silicon craft, cylinders sixty centimetres long, fifteen wide. They slithered down the bank to the waters edge.
Kelly focused on the sky downstream. At full magnification the northern horizon was stained a pale red. Its close, she said.
An hour away, Reza said. Maybe two. This river winds a crooked course.