“We’ve got to build momentum by nailing down some successes quickly,” said General Lanyan. “Let’s secure as many Hansa colonies as we can, as fast as we can grab them. We’ll focus on the ones we can win without much of a fight to make ourselves stronger and build up our numbers.”
“At the very least, that should slow our attrition,” Cain said. “We’re losing colonies daily. If we stop that from happening, maybe others will think twice before tearing up the Charter.”
“And which ones are the easiest victories?” Willis again sounded skeptical. “We have a bad habit of underestimating the levels of difficulty.”
“First and foremost, we go to the worlds settled during the Klikiss Colonization Initiative,” Cain said. “They’re fledgling colonies. No defenses whatsoever.”
“More important, they’re off the grid,” Basil said. “They don’t have green priests to spread the corruption, so they won’t know about Peter’s desertion or his sham government on Theroc.”
“But . . . why bother? What do those worlds have to offer?” Willis asked. “Not much in the way of resources or populations.”
“They are of strategic importance,” Basil insisted. “Moral importance. We can use them as footholds for the EDF, anchor points with which to stop further attrition.”
Lanyan folded his thick fingers together. “Right. We go straight to Rheindic Co—the central transfer point for the transportals—send teams through to the colonies, and easily add a few dozen worlds back to our score. It shouldn’t take more than a small peacekeeping force to make sure those newbie settlers don’t get out of line. It’ll be fast and easy.”
“We’ve heard that before,” Willis muttered, earning herself a glare from the General.
Lanyan turned to the Chairman. “Sir, I would like to lead that operation myself. Once they see the commander of the Earth Defense Forces, those colonies will never consider defying us.”
“General, isn’t your priority to manage the shipyards and rebuild the Earth Defense Forces?” Deputy Cain asked.
“That may be a priority, but it’s not my area of expertise. We need an army of administrators to watch over that mess.” Lanyan turned back to Basil. “I’m a military commander. I proved my worth when we battled the robot-hijacked ships and when we faced down the hydrogues. Let me do what I do best.”
“And you’re sick and tired of the shipyards,” Willis said.
“General, after seeing your recent report about the accidents, losses, and black-market activities, I’m inclined to believe that you may not be the best man for the shipyards, after all.” Basil considered, then nodded. “All right. Set up your team and go secure the Klikiss colonies.”
Lanyan could barely keep the relief from showing on his face. “Given the importance of the mission, we need to show that the EDF is making a significant effort. Perhaps a few Mantas are not impressive enough? I think I should take one of our three remaining Juggernauts.”
Admiral Willis made predictable protests. “If you’re just going to send peacekeeping forces through the transportals, what the hell do you need a Juggernaut for?”
Still without taking a seat, Basil turned to face his officers. “The General’s reasons seem sufficient to me. I’m hereby transferring command of the Grid 7 Juggernaut to him for this mission.”
“My Jupiter?” Willis was flabbergasted. “And may I ask what I’m to do in the meantime?”
“I’m placing you in charge of the asteroid belt shipyard. You can also help us strategize for our new recruiting drive.” He turned to Pike, San Luis, and Diente. “You three, compile a list of the most useful lost colonies and your assessment of any particular difficulties we might have in conquering them.”
“I don’t suppose negotiation or diplomacy is even an option on the table?” Willis said. Basil didn’t bother to answer her.
Lanyan stood up, as if anxious to be out of the meeting. “I’ll depart within the next two days, Mr. Chairman. I promise you I’ll secure our Klikiss planets quickly and efficiently.”
Basil quelled his annoyance. “Quick and efficient. Yes, that’ll be a pleasant surprise, General.”
19 ORLI COVITZ
Driven by the breedex, the Klikiss never rested. Insect workers crawled over the ruins, using load after load of polymer resin to extend the towers, thicken the walls, and expand the alien city into a veritable fortress. Using strange machinery, an endless number of Klikiss laborers strip-mined the hills and processed mud, sand, and metal ores into useful materials. A squat structure built at the center of the complex was apparently where the mysterious hive mind lived.
Adroit assemblers continued to manufacture great numbers of the identical, interlocking ships that shot into orbit on test flights, then landed in groups. The aggressive fleet looked like an invasion force. A new trapezoidal framework began to rise in the stony clearing in front of the city towers, the beginnings of a transportal much larger than the one inside the ruins. According to Margaret Colicos, some of the other subhive breedexes were already on the move. The Llaro breedex was consolidating its swarm, while preparing to defend itself.
DD often spent days with Orli when Margaret disappeared among the Klikiss. Though she had lived among them for years, the xeno-archaeologist was always trying to communicate with the hive mind. She felt obligated to explain humans and their culture to it; Orli hoped the older woman was having some success.
The girl sat next to DD on a flat rooftop in the town, overlooking the surrounding landscape. Suddenly, squads of builder sub-breeds marched out in a long stream, flowing around to completely encircle the Llaro settlement. Colonists watched the bugs from their windows or from the streets; a few shouted questions, but no one confronted the diligent insects.
The Klikiss began to build an enclosing wall that would confine them all, like a cage around the entire town.
Some people, especially Roamer detainees, attempted to push their way out, but Klikiss workers drove them back. Nobody seemed to understand what was going on.
Orli felt a leaden weight in her heart. “They’re turning our town into a big pen, like an exhibit in a zoo. And we’re in the middle of it.”
Groups of grublike excreters were carried forward on pallets from the construction area. Diggers excavated a trench, or moat, around the town and provided the dirt as raw material to the grubs, which digested it and produced copious amounts of resin cement. Working in a flurry, builders slapped together supports and slathered them with iron-hard polymer mud.
The insect workers granted free passage to Margaret, who returned to the city, looking deeply disturbed, and pushed past the Klikiss. The constructors were building external ramps and including several access gaps through the wall, and Margaret passed in among the colonists.
Seeing the woman’s distraught expression, Orli and DD climbed down from the rooftop. They ran to her as other colonists shouted questions, demanding answers, as if Margaret were some kind of ambassador from the breedex. With her gray-and-brown hair blowing in the dry breeze, she raised her hands for quiet. “The breedex has located an infestation of black robots on a planet called Wollamor. It intends to launch a great attack through the transportal and destroy every robot there.”
“Good,” Mr. Steinman said. “Smash the damned machines into scrap metal.”
Orli shuddered. “I won’t feel sad to see the robots wiped out after what they did to Corribus.”
Two of the towering domates strode among the warriors and workers, chittering as the confining wall continued to rise. Margaret cocked her head to listen, as if she could understand what the bugs were talking about, but she did not translate.
Davlin Lotze nodded grimly at the new barrier. “But how does that explain the wall?”
Margaret lowered her head. “The breedex insists that all human colonists remain in one place—here. They will assist you in doing so.”
“’Assist us’ in staying in one place?” Roberto Clarin said with a snort. “By the Guiding St
ar, what are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Mr. Steinman said. “It’s only the first step, dammit!”
The camp’s other compy, a Governess model named UR who had come with the Roamer detainees, stood near the seven children in her charge. Her programming was to instruct and protect them.
The uproar continued, but the colonists could not resist the Klikiss. Fortunately, thanks to Davlin’s wise warning, the people had hidden their food supplies where the bugs couldn’t find them. Lately, their rations had been paltry, but Orli was used to that.
“Perhaps the wall is for your own protection,” DD said. “It is reminiscent of the fortifications around a medieval town.”
“And if pigs could fly,” Crim Tylar groused.
“I know of no species of pig that can fly. Aerodynamically, it seems impossible.”
“It was a joke, DD,” Orli said.
Meter after meter, moving along a perfect geometrical path, the Klikiss builders continued to erect their wall.
“We’ll just have to cooperate with the Klikiss and hope for the best,” Ruis said. Even to Orli he sounded naïve.
Mr. Steinman wearily shook his shaggy head. His eyes were red. “I don’t like this. Not one bit. I’m getting way too many images of concentration camps, barbed-wire fences, and gas chambers.”
“That was centuries ago. I read about it in school,” Orli said.
“There are some things you should never forget. Worse than forgetting, though, is if you let it happen all over again. And we walked right into this.”
20 SIRIX
Once the black robots had cleansed Wollamor of the human taint, Sirix set his Soldier compies to work rebuilding. The black robots did not need the remaining dwellings and towers for any functional reason, only as a symbol to show how resoundingly they had defeated their long-extinct creators. Sirix was proud.
Wollamor’s large, ancient transportal stood as a blank stone gateway in the middle of a street. Beside PD and QT, Sirix contemplated how those coordinate tiles led to further possibilities for conquest, abandoned worlds to reclaim, one after another. The black robots would have their own Swarming. They would spread, overwhelm all resistance, and take control. His eye sensors glowed at the thoughts churning through his cybernetic mind.
QT was the first to notice the change. “Look, the transportal is activating.”
“Someone is coming through,” PD added.
The sheet of stone hummed, became a wall of static, then opened. Sirix reeled backward on his leg clusters and emitted an electronic burst to alert the robots and Soldier compies.
Five armored Klikiss warriors strode through, raising strange weapons with their sharp, segmented forelimbs.
Sirix scuttled in full retreat while the two Friendly compies stared in fascination. “Are those the original Klikiss?” PD asked. “Are they not extinct?”
Black robots rushed from the construction sites. Soldier compies marched down ramps from the EDF ships. When the Klikiss warriors saw the robots, they set up a warbling battle cry and surged to attack. Dozens more, then hundreds, poured through the transportal after them.
The first warrior leaped forward and crashed onto Sirix. He fought back, extending his articulated limbs to drill and cut into the Klikiss’s exoskeleton. Ancient echoes of oppression, even fear, rang through his mind as he struggled. The black robots were powerfully built, nearly three meters tall and encased in glossy armor, and the Klikiss had designed them with fighting skills nearly equal to their own. Sirix sent out a burst to the two confused Friendly compies. “Protect me.” He pushed hard, snapping off two of the warrior’s limbs. The stumps oozed viscous green fluid.
PD and QT scurried to grab the warrior’s additional limbs, throwing the creature off balance. One of its pincers broke apart.
Sirix shoved a cutting stave into the enemy’s thorax and ripped sideways, nearly decapitating the creature. Twitching, it fell over, still grabbing at Sirix, but the robot tore himself free. PD and QT hurriedly followed him.
A clamor of thoughts and questions burned along his inner mental channels. Confusion, disbelief, and shock slowed crucial reaction times. How could the Klikiss have survived the rigged swarming into hydrogue planets? This was not possible. The return of the creator race had not been part of his detailed plans.
More and more Klikiss marched through the transportal—warriors, diggers, builders—and one of the black-and-silver striped domates. Was this another Swarming? Had the Klikiss survivors stumbled upon Sirix and his robots by accident, or had they come to Wollamor with a specific intention? No breedex would have forgotten the robots’ betrayal.
The insect warriors lunged forward, shrieking and chittering. Robots and Soldier compies scrambled to mount a defense. Two insect warriors with bright red badges marking their wings and carapaces crashed down upon one robot. It fought back furiously, but the warriors ripped off its back casings and discarded them with a clatter of metal and polymer before uprooting the winglike solar panels. The black robots could withstand the hostile environment of a hydrogue gas giant, but the Klikiss knew full well how to dismantle their own creations.
As the robot thrashed and stabbed with its articulated limbs, the warriors tunneled into the body core, tore out its processors, and smashed the stored memory. Wrenching off the robot’s geometric head, they flung it far away.
The returning Klikiss had sophisticated weaponry, if they desired to use it. But the breedex controlling them seemed interested not only in defeating the robots, but in crushing them. It reminded Sirix of the ancient battles—destruction and slaughter for the sheer satisfaction that came from it.
A second domate arrived, accompanied by even more Klikiss. Sirix and his robots signaled one another to form a temporary blockade to cover their retreat to the EDF ships. They could get aboard the shuttles, troop transports, and Mantas, and fly away from Wollamor. But they needed time.
Sirix had one last defense to use: the Soldier compies. Now, with the original race coming after them, Sirix decided that the human-built robots were expendable. It was necessary for the survival of their superiors. When he summoned them, ranks of the EDF military compies marched forward double time to form a wall. They crashed into the emerging Klikiss, using construction tools as makeshift weapons.
Fortunately, the Soldier compies had no sense of self-preservation. They would buy the time Sirix needed.
Insect warriors flew forward, and Soldier compies rushed to meet them, four of them against a single Klikiss warrior. At first they tore the monsters to pieces, but the Klikiss, in turn, used praying-mantis limbs to eviscerate the compies, ripping through synthetic skins, chopping metal heads off with a backhanded slash. Still more Soldier compies filed out of the EDF ships, carrying projectile weapons, many of which had been pried from the dead hands of human soldiers.
While Soldier compies blasted away at the vengeful Klikiss, for a moment—just a moment—Sirix thought they could hold back the numbers.
Another wave of Klikiss poured through the transportal.
PD and QT ran in panic, and Sirix sent them a command burst. “Follow me.”
Soldier compies struggled to hold the line while the black robots retreated to the dubious safety of the EDF ships. And the marauding Klikiss kept coming.
21 TASIA TAMBLYN
Tasia had never been to Theroc, though she’d heard a lot about the forested world. It was as important to the Therons as Rendezvous had been to the Roamers. According to her uncles, this was the seat of a new inclusive government, a Confederation of diverse peoples. However, as Conrad Brindle entered orbit, he received a decidedly cool reception. “EDF ship, are you armed?”
“We have a standard complement of defensive weapons, as do all ships of this model. Those weapons came in very handy when we recently fought against the drogues.”
Tasia leaned over and added, “In fact, your giant treeships helped us to escape at Qronha 3. We’re here to report to King Peter. We under
stand this is the center of government these days?”
After a long pause, the voice answered. “All right. Permission to land. But be warned that we will respond accordingly to any hostile act.”
When their transport landed in a clearing that had obviously been used by many other ships, she spotted four small Roamer vessels, the people nearby decked out in clan attire. Grinning, Tasia bounded down the ramp, hoping she would recognize some faces after such a long time.
“You Eddies have a lot of nerve coming here, after all that you’ve done to us.” One of the Roamers glared at the three of them. Tasia and Robb wore ill-fitting EDF uniforms, since those were the only spare garments Conrad had aboard.
Tasia snapped back, “And some would say that Roamers have forgotten basic hospitality.” She stepped forward, toe-to-toe with the surly trader. “I’m Tasia Tamblyn, from clan Tamblyn. After fighting the drogues for years, I was recently freed after being held prisoner inside a gas giant, so I’m a bit behind on news.”
The trader didn’t know how to respond. “Tamblyn, you say? From Plumas? You’re Bram’s little girl? Ah, then you must be here to join with King Peter. We never know where anybody’s allegiance lies these days.”
Robb frowned. “Join King Peter? When did we ever change?”
“And what about the EDF? I need to make my report to General Lanyan.” Conrad was plainly disturbed. “I saw a lot of trading ships over your new capital, but no defenses.” The Roamers looked at him skeptically; one made a rude noise.
At ground level, the visitors stood together looking up at the mammoth tree and the huge fungus-reef city suspended in its high branches. Holes had been carved through the asymmetrical mounds of white fungus to create a suspended metropolis with hundreds of rooms and open balconies. Simple lift platforms ran on tracks and cables installed by Roamers.
Finally, a broad-shouldered green priest named Solimar came to guide them up into the tree city. Tasia straightened her uniform to make herself as presentable as she could, and brushed a dried leaf from Robb’s shoulder.
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