The returning tired Stewards handed off some of their guns to younger fresher members of the university people, who would stand watch along the line. They kept two Jazzers to pass to two of the men coming out, and Noreen would give her Sonic to the third man.
Coverage along the line of evacuees would be lighter for a few minutes. Therefore, Mirikami gathered the Jazzer and Sonic from the two drivers, who had hard suits and cages for protection, and planned to pass them to passenger volunteers. Branson walked over as he did this, and mentioned to the captain how the Smart Fabric had protected Naguma’s body from punctures.
“Well, damn,” Mirikami swore. “Noreen and I’d look like showoffs in our dress uniforms, but I wish we’d worn them now. I didn’t think about fashion also being protective.”
Then in a sudden after thought, “Cal, when you get inside ask some passengers to gather up all of the table cloths and bring them down with them on the central lifts. Those are a cheaper grade of Smart Fabric, but just as tough as what clothes are made of. We can use them as a protective cover over people walking to the dome.”
He gave the guns to two freshly descended passengers. Their operation was simple. Slide off the safety, get close to the target, point and press the stud inside the trigger guard. The “get close” was the hard part.
Mirikami moved his chair around to the center of the cargo ramp, to be clear of the spray of junk expected when the next three engine sections fell.
Noreen and the six Stewards had briefed the other three men, and were now riding up the escalator ramp when he got the warning of two minutes to the next parts dump.
“Link to all crew.”
“Done, Sir.”
“Captain speaking, start the final cuts for this engine drop on my mark. I need to get some people clear first. It should only be a moment.”
He called up to the people in the six human chains. “Hold up the lines. Let the people already on the ramp make their way down. The last person on each chain be extra careful, you won’t have anybody holding your other hand. We need to drop some more engine pieces as soon as you are down.”
In thirty seconds, everyone on the ramp had made it down, a lot faster than was safe, but were off the ramp, milling with a dozen others that had been told to stay near the shelter of the ramp.
The three newly armed Stewards positioned themselves around them, looking up and around nervously for bugs and bats. The practice had been for each person coming down to have the visible threats pointed out, and to pass that information on to the next person behind them. This way, the circling bats and hovering bugs were always being watched by multiple pairs of eyes.
“Everyone is off the two ramps,” he told Willfem. “Start your cuts now.” Noreen and the other six crewmembers had just reached the hatchway.
“Aye Sir,” he heard from Willfem.
After an impatient minute and a half, he heard her shout, “Here they go!”
The sound of metal screeching and tearing was earsplitting, and then the large cylinders of metal parts thundered down onto the landing pad with three separate rapid thuds and crashes. They hadn’t all hit at exactly the same instant. Pieces of metal, plastic and ceramic went flying in all directions, and the loud clatter from the underside of the two ramps proved a lot of material had shot out from the triple impact.
More dust than the first three wider separated drops created rose off the tarmac, due to the larger and heavier segments. Despite the advanced warning, several people screamed or shouted out at the deafening sound and heavy ground vibration. However, there were no cries of pain, so it had gone safely.
Still on full Link, Mirikami said, “Nice work. We have beautiful pile of scrap. Give the teams a break Nan, while Chack and Ricco hook on and drag the junk clear. Mirikami Out.”
Virtually every set of eyes had turned to watch as the engine parts fell with a thunderous crash and the dust rose. Every human set of eyes, that is.
23. Odd Prey
The Flock had seen their attacks thwarted and members of the Flock killed or injured. They now circled high above, observing this odd behaving group of prey with growing frustration. New prey such as these was predictably stupid at first, with the first kill or two being easy.
The Flock had always been able to bring down one or two from smaller herds, and this was a very large herd. The red herd protectors always stayed away to let the Flock feed on the tender sweet meat of the first of their animals. Then the big dangerous ones came to protect the rest of their animals.
The Flock would be forced to leave their kills, and it was risky to bring down another one of this herd while it was being protected. It was frequently fatal to attack one of big red prey. The big herders had things that could kill from a distance. Flock Leader had learned to call his squadrons away when they came.
This time the herd animals behaved differently, and they had their own herders that watched and protected them. However, they only appeared to have things to attack a squadron when it came very close.
The big red ones could somehow kill members of the Flock at long range, and they didn’t wait for the divers to come near. They could apparently hear the flock talking as it approached because they looked up, and they obviously heard the even higher pitched echo calls when a squadron dove to attack.
At first Flock Leader thought the big ones had no ears, but saw that they could grow them when needed and, like the Flock, could point them at oncoming flyer calls.
Sometimes a red one could hurt a flyer’s hearing with loud screams, if the flyer flew close or made a silent dive to strike-and-go from behind. The small prey didn’t appear able to use their tiny ears to hear the Flock at all when they talked or used echo calls, and so were easy to attack from above or behind. This was like most of their usual prey, who also couldn’t hear the Flock.
As few as three flyers could bring down one of these animals from behind, but five made it more certain. If the prey knew the attack was coming, a squadron of eight was a more favorable number to bring one down.
It took many squadrons working together to kill a red one, and even then the cost was too high for the value of the tough dry meat. The smaller prey was usually easy to bring down, at least until they learned to watch for divers, or the red ones came out to protect them.
Flock Leader had still been some distance away when the first squadron of five attacked, and did not see how those two flyers were killed because the large nest blocked his view. However, the dead flyers did not look burned, and the three returning flyers had bruise type injuries.
That fireball from the small prey had really been a shock to the Flock, eliminating a squadron of six. It was something Flock Leader had never seen, and had killed and injured more of his Flock at one time than big red ones did. The red ones had killed many flyers singly from far away, before the Flock grew cautious.
He watched four of that doomed squadron die as the herd animals beat on their smoking bodies, their cries of pain filling the sky. Both flyers that flew away from the fire would die tonight, because they were almost blind and could not breathe well.
The two other squadron flyers, of the eight sent, were there to strike at animals that tried to help a fallen herd mate. Those two had hidden around the side of the giant hard flyer. They found their opportunity, and attacked an animal that separated from the herd and walked almost under that hard flyer.
The kill was spoiled when a small herd protector made both of them deaf with a black “loud shouter,” which was worse by far than the noise the red ones made from their mouths. It was heard by the Flock Leader from high above, where he circled.
He could clearly see at least three of the bigger black “shouter” objects. The two flyers were unable to hear the Flock at all when they returned, and would eventually die if they could never get back their ears.
The red herders were much faster and stronger than their slow animals, but not quite as fast as the flyers, or even as fast the usual prey the Flock hunted. Yet the sma
ller herd animals this time had cost the Flock great loss. Flock Leader wanted revenge, but was waiting for the right opportunity.
His flyers had attacked this herd multiple times today, and even saw the little biters bring down some animals. They had killed one of the herd before the three drinking biters were killed in turn, by a prey animal protector. It used a black object, smaller and quieter than red protectors used, and the “loud shouter.” Nevertheless, the protector still waited to get close to kill with that, as had the other protectors.
Whenever the little biter’s made a kill from a heard, the Flock eventually claimed that prey too, but only after allowing them to drink for a time, as reward for the easy meat. This time the big red ones had not come out to protect this large herd, even after two kills and several damaged animals. They always gave these first kills up without argument, but then protected the rest of the herd.
Expecting red ones to come was why Flock Leader had called a retreat, and they flew high to stay away from their ability to kill from a distance. It was confusing when they didn’t appear after several attacks. Was this to trick the Flock? It had happened before when they used tied prey animals to draw a squadron near, just to kill them. They didn’t eat any of the flyers they killed, which made no sense. At least the Flock could reclaim their own dead for food, to offset their loss.
In the past, the red herders permitted the Flock to keep and eat what they killed or hurt, but not to feed while the herders were present. After they took the herd inside their nest, they let the Flock eat what they had killed or crippled.
Sometimes the red ones released herd animals in hard dark shells, and killed them later themselves, leaving the peeled animals for scavengers. The Flock had once killed two of these before the red ones found where they were hiding. However, the flyers were shocked to discover that the prey now could also kill at a distance. They had the same objects the red ones used to kill, but the prey did not kill many flyers with them.
The hard shell was also very difficult to open, and they could not bite through except where it had cracks. These shelled prey animals were sometimes claimed from the little biters, and the smaller gracks, which could get through the small openings in the shell to kill.
That the red ones did not eat from their own herd bothered Flock Leader. This was somehow “wrong” with the world in Flock Leader’s mind. They killed herd animals that they did not eat, and killed flyers they did not eat. Few animals ate biters, but they also left those.
This was the first time in Flock Leader’s experience that the small prey itself had defended a new herd from a hard flyer. They had even taken the kills and the crippled into the big nest, where the Flock couldn’t feed on them.
Frustrated and growing angry, it looked like all they would be left to eat were their own dead, and the foul dead biters. The Flock would be weaker tonight, not stronger. Flock Leader might have a squadron leader challenge him for his position.
However, more animals kept coming out of the giant hard flyer, he might yet lead the Flock to more kills. Flock Leader decided there must be many more animals still inside. He called to his squadrons to stay high but keep watch. The Flock didn’t have a true language, but they had many complex calls that conveyed many meanings, warnings, and ways to coordinate an attack.
The entire flock was now waiting for any careless mistake, for any unprotected animals to walk too far from the other prey that guarded them. The herd’s protectors were obvious to the Flock. With their excellent vision, they could clearly see the small black objects the protectors had used. They were different from those of the big red ones, but had proven able kill or disable a flyer or biter that came too close. Three of the herd protectors were to be completely avoided. They had strange objects on their backs, and one of those protectors had made the deadly ball of fire.
The hard flyers that brought new herds here in the past were dead now. They were killed by the big red ones after they were empty. Two living flyers of the red herders were close, but one had been asleep for days by the nest, and the other one had gathered red herders from the giant flyer today. Nevertheless, no herd animals came out, as the first on the scene and now dead squadron leader of eight must have expected. That prey would have had a very long trek to the big nest, and would be open to easy attack.
The giant flyer might be dying, or perhaps it would be killed when it was empty of herd animals. That was what happened before. However, a strange new leg was seen to grow from it a short time ago.
Flock Leader watched as the first protectors gave most of their deadly black objects to new protectors. Then suddenly three herd animals came out of a hole above the new leg of the flyer and climbed down the leg in a strange smooth motion.
Flock Leader almost gave a call to dive on those three, but held his squadrons because the old protectors were not far away and went to meet them. Three of the old protectors still held black objects. He gave a scream of frustrated rage, which the deaf animals ignored as always.
The three black objects were given to the new animals, now making them protectors, and all seven old guardians somehow climbed the peculiar leg, again without moving their limbs. The new protectors waited for the defenseless prey to almost reach the nest hole in the flyer, and then they rushed to protect the herd still coming out of the lower hard flyer nest entrance. He recognized now that another black opening on the other side of the hard flyer was also a hole into the nest area, but without a leg sticking down.
Gnashing his fangs in anger at another lost opportunity, Flock Leader considered the fact that the prey animals that went back into the flyer had given away all of their black objects. He once had led members of the Flock into dead hard flyers when he was a squadron leader. There was little food found in them, but there were empty small nests inside were prey had lived. The thought formed that this giant flyer must have many nests, and it still held prey.
Then an event happened that completed his half-formed idea. A lower flying risk-taking young squadron leader called an alert, just as more of the insides of the hard flyer fell to the ground. It was definitely dying!
With a thrill of excitement, Flock Leader saw that none of the prey or their protectors was watching the Flock! He screamed a cry to follow, and the two squadrons he called instantly folded wings and dove in the direction he led. He took them to the opening above the leg and called for the larger squadron to enter the nest. Eight flyers opened their wings for braking, and flashed through the opening.
Flock Leader flapped hard around the backside of the giant to the second opening, and without hesitation led the squadron of six following him inside.
24. Inner Turmoil
Jason Sieko was relishing the cool ship air as he pulled off his sweaty Steward’s jacket and slung it over his shoulder. Trailing the others, he was eager to get to crew country and take a refreshing shower. They all had stayed in full uniform, with the light white jackets, just to be a visually reassuring presence for their passengers that their crew was still looking after them.
“Hey, Alfon,” he called to his friend, a few steps ahead. “After a shower and change, let’s have some ice cream in the day room. We may never get another chance after today.”
“You’re on,” his buddy answered, also craving a core cooling treat. “How about in fifteen minutes, because…,” His glance back over his shoulder froze in place, and his eyes widened. “Look out! Bats!” he shouted.
The flyers had just overshot their own side corridor as they flew down the wider main companionway the passengers used. Jason spun around, and saw nothing. “Not funny, Al. It’s been...,” and his voice trailed off as he heard the fluttering and scuffling as the flyers reached a set of closed double doors, and reversed course towards the voices they now heard behind them.
The others had heard the warning, and now heard the flapping sounds as well. Noreen, at the head of the group shouted, “Run for the next fire door!”
As one, they found strength they thought had been draine
d from their bodies, and managed to start running for the automatic door just thirty feet ahead of her. If they reached that, they could hit the emergency button on the other side and seal the door behind them.
“Jake,” Noreen shouted, “wolfbats inside, make a broadcast.”
The flyers slowed just enough to make the right angle turn at the junction, and hit the opposite wall feet first, one going high one low. Pairs of them were shooting into the corridor in a move that looked choreographed, since all eight executed the maneuver in near perfect-paired unison.
In a calm voice that seemed macabre under the circumstances, the AI announced, “Attention, eight wolfbats have entered the ship and are in the main promenade. Correction, they have turned into staff corridor B6.”
That was a detail the seven racing crewmembers didn’t need to be told. They could hear them quite literally flying down that corridor behind them. Noreen shot through the door opening and clawed at the door’s frame to stop her as the first three men ran by her, bumping her along the way. She tore off the protective cover, her fist poised to hammer the close button.
Looking back for the other three men, she was trying to remember how fast the door closed. Jason and Alfon were last, and the Chief Steward, Nory Walters, had paused to wait for his men. It was obvious the first bats were going to catch Jason.
“Use your jacket Jason,” he screamed at his last man. He also saw he couldn’t make it. “Throw it at them.” It was all he could think of, and it almost worked.
Jason had pulled his jacket off his shoulder when he started running, and he still had it in his right hand. Without looking back, since he knew by the sounds of their wings they were about to catch him, he threw it straight behind him as his arm pumped that way.
The move surprised both flyers, not knowing how the prey had shed this skin. Worried it was another trap they dodged sharply aside. This allowed the jacket to land on the face of the flyer behind them with no warning. It rose up in fear, blinded, and hit the flyer above it, causing both to tumble and impeded the rushing attackers behind them.
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