Chapter Thirteen

At the hatch outside the conference room, Coollege leaned close and said, "You don't suppose the Colonel knows do you?"

"We'll find out in a minute. Depends on what happened inside."

The hatch irised open and Price stepped through. The Colonel, looking as if he'd just come from the parade ground sat at the head of the long, highly polished table. Several staff officers were scattered around in various uniforms and in various states of consciousness. One man had laid his head on the table and was snoring.

"Come in," said the Colonel. "Grab a seat. Do you know Randly Clark? Scout pilot?"

Price nodded. "Sure. We've worked together on a number of projects. Clark?" Price held a hand out across the table.

Clark, his blood shot eyes were ringed in black making it look as if he hadn't sleep in a week, half stood. Despite all the sleep he'd just had, he looked tired. He touched Price's hand and dropped back into his seat. "Captain."

The Colonel turned his attention to another on the staff and asked, "Has the computer data been downloaded?"

"Yes, sir. Use Scout One as the access code."

The Colonel pulled his keyboard around, typed quickly and then sat back. The area above the center of the table began to cloud up, the colors swirling about a foot above the surface. It shimmered and seemed to solidify, finally becoming a picture of a planetary system as seen from deep space. Tiny points of light marked the location of other ships.

Clark said, "I ran into what I would call picket ships outside their system. They attacked me, firing first. I fought back, destroying a couple of them."

"They fired first," said the Colonel.

"Yes, sir. Computer logs will confirm."

The computer expert interjected, "Computer confirms. There was no evidence of tampering."
"Thank you," said the Colonel.

Clark stood up and pointed into the holographic projection. It seems that they came from this system. They were scattered around the perimeter of it. I engaged those in my path, those that attacked me, and then entered the system. One planet appeared to be inhabited. Or rather, showed signs of industrial development."

The scene changed showing them the entire planet with all its oceans, continents, mountain ranges, rivers and lakes marked. There seemed to be no cities, other than a single megastructure sitting on the north pole. The empty land, that which might have been forested or used in agricultural production, gradually gave way to that which looked like desert sprinkled with lava beds that finally became the outskirts of the city.

"Computer, sensors, radars, found no evidence of life on that planet," said Clark. "But then, something was there because I was fired on by missiles."

The holographic model continued to rotate slowly so that each of the people around the table got a good look at everything. Clark narrated his adventure, explaining everything that had happened to him, what his impressions were, where the enemy had been concentrated and what tactics he had been employed.

When that ended and the planet was again hovering above the table, the Colonel asked, "Are there any questions?"

Price said, "I take it that you were unable to detect signs of life."

"That was the one thing that bothered me," said Clark. "It seems to me that we have a new city... that it has been repaired and kept up. I mean, it didn't give the appearance of being abandoned. But there were none of the telltale signs of life. I couldn't tell enough about the landscape to determine if there were cultivated areas. Maybe that can be determined."

The computer expert said, "We are looking into it but at the moment I don't have an answer."

Now the Colonel looked directly at Price. "Can we make the assumption that the planet Clark found is the one that built the asteroid?"

"Not at this moment," said Price. "We just don't have enough to go on. If we... if Clark could have gotten us a prisoner or some close up pictures..." He held up a hand to stop Clark from protesting. "I know the problems and I don't mean this as a criticism. I'm merely saying that without more data we can't form an opinion. I don't know."

"I think that is something we need to determine," said the Colonel.

"If I might, Colonel," said Clark. "We do have some data. These people in their pickets didn't even try to make contact. They attacked. Period. We have a hostile race that can put ships into space and I think that is something that needs to be explored."

"But you saw nothing there, the sensors picked up nothing that indicated there was anything living on the planet?" asked the Colonel.

Price said, "We didn't have any indication that there was anything living on the asteroid."

"That was because the single individual had been in a state of hibernation. That could explain why we didn't detect the fact."

"You can't be suggesting that the entire population of the planet is hibernating."

"We don't have the data to know anything," said Coolledge. "We have more to learn."

The Colonel turned to his chief of staff. "Davis, we have anything from the other scouts?"

"No, Colonel. Latest reports are negative. They have found nothing."

"Okay, then what I want us to do is plan for a mission into that planetary system. Fleet course will be alter so that we are heading in that direction. We will, of course, require more intelligence. Price, you can have what you need. Any questions?"

"Colonel, you can't be saying that we're going to invade this planet based on an assumption of hostility from a single scout."

"I'm saying that we will prepare if the facts warrant it. At the moment it does no harm to begin the preparations. If the intelligence suggests something else, then we can cancel the plan."

"Yes, sir."

"Anything else?"

Price said, "I'd like access to all data about the being from the asteroid. I've been blocked from some of it."

"There are good reason for wanting it?"

"If this is the enemy, I'm going to have to know as much about it as I can," said Price. "Otherwise my briefings will be incomplete."

"Get with me in the morning." The Colonel touched his keypad and the planet vanished. "I know that I don't have to warn any of you to keep this quiet for a moment. Let's get to work." With that he headed to the door.

As the Colonel left, Coollege leaned close to Price. "There a real reason you want access to the autopsy material?"

"Yeah," said Price. "There is something going on here that I don't like and I want to make sure that I have the answers before we get to the enemy's planetary system."

"You think that Clark found the wrong place?"

"I don't think anything at the moment. I just have some questions that haven't been answered."
"So what are you going to do?" asked Coollege.

"At the moment, I think that I'll go back to bed. Let the computers have some time with the data and then take a look at it in the morning."

"And what do you think I should do?"

Price couldn't help himself. He laughed and said, "Why, I think you should go to bed too."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Chapter Fourteen

Monier sat in the intelligence office, in front of the main viewer, the computer record from the scout ship playing in front of her. She watched the images as they paraded across the screen, aware of other images marching through her mind. Fleeting images that were more shadow than substance.

When the hatch behind her chimed softly before opening, she hit the cut off button and the image on the screen faded, but not those in her mind. She saw a group of humanoid creatures that had a feline look, with hair on the forearms and the legs below the knees but almost none on the head. She didn't understand the vision but was sure that the beings were not native to the planet.

The hatch irised open and both Price and Coollege entered. Monier glanced over her shoulder at them, looked back at the blank screen and then, suddenly at the two others. "So that is the way it is."

Coollege stopped in her tracks. "Is there anyone on this ship who minds his own business?" Then she remembered who Monier was and what the rumors said. She felt her face grow hot and knew that she was turning red. To hide it, she moved quickly to the console and bent over it as if to study it carefully.

Then she whirled, stared at Monier and flared. "You just stay the hell away from me."

"I didn't do anything," said Monier.

"Just keep your snotty comments to yourself. I don't want you playing with my mind. You hear me?"

Monier looked at Price helplessly and then said, "I didn't read your mind. I didn't read anyone's mind. I don't read anyone's mind without their permission."

"Bullshit," snapped Coollege. "No wonder no one trusts you with you slinging the bullshit like that."

Again Monier looked at Price. She didn't say anything in response.

Price shrgged at her and said, "Let it go, Jackknife."

"Why should I? She's the one causing the trouble." Coollege turned to face him, her fists on her hips, her eyes unblinking.

"This is completely irrational," said Price. "Lieutenant Monier is an officer and by definition she is trustworthy. If you have evidence to the contrary..."

"Just having her here," said Coollege.

"Okay," said Price, his voice hardening. "That was the put up or shut up, Lieutenant. Now, if you have no evidence that Monier has been anything but honorable, I will thank you to shut the fuck up. If she has behaved in a way that is not prescribed by regulations, you present your evidence. If not, then shut up. I am tired of this now. Lieutenant Monier will be given the benefit of the doubt. Do I make myself clear?"

Coollege stood stiffly, staring at Price and then lowered her eyes. "I understand, Captain."

"You two don't have to be friends, but you will work together. Neither of you has a choice in this matter. Is that understood?"

Coollege nodded and Monier said, "Yes, sir."

"Good, said Price. He let things settle for a moment and then asked Monier, "What have you been doing this morning?"

"Just reviewing the material brought in last night. I'm afraid that I haven't come up with anything extraordinary though."

Price sat down and twisted around in the chair. He leaned both elbows on the desk and said, "Tell me what you have?"

"Just a few impressions. I understand, from the computer file, that the scout didn't find any sign of a biological race on the planet."

"He found evidence that someone had been there once but nothing current."

"I get the impression that they were still there."

"Our instruments would have picked them up if they were there in any concentration."

Monier shrugged. "I don't want to argue the value of the instruments but it is possible that the enemy has developed some kind of a masking device."

"To what purpose?" asked Coollege.

"That I don't know but I can speculate. They have sent out one probe..."

"Yeah," interrupted Price. "One that we know about. I would assume the sent others throughout the galaxy. That's not the sort of thing you do only once."

"So," said Monier, "they have the ability to do it and they know the capabilities of their device. Now, suppose they assume there are other races with a technology equal to theirs. In other words, they take steps to hide their existence from anyone who comes looking."

"You base that on anything other than speculation?"

"Just that and the fact that I believe there are people on that planet but our instruments couldn't find them."

"Jackknife, why don't you lock the door. Let's review what the scout has and see if there is anything there that was overlooked."

"Sure," said Coollege.

For the next hour they watched the main screen as the images flashed. They focused on small sections and magnified them as much as possible. They found separate buildings, they saw some plant life, trees, bushes and even flowers growing at the sides of some of the buildings. They spotted what looked to be railroad tracks that hadn't been used for a long time. Gaps in the roadbed and the reddish color of the rails suggested that, though Price wasn't sure that engineers on another planet would build a railroad using iron rails.

But for all the searching they could find no evidence of any movement or any means of transportation other than the tracks. No rolling stock was visible. No cars or trucks on the roads and certainly nothing in the air.

Price rocked back in his chair, laced his fingers behind his head and said, "You think that the pickets radioed a warning and everyone took cover?"

"That'd never work on Earth," said Coollege. "There would always be someone who didn't get the word. Even the fastest survey conducted by the enemy would catch some people in the street."

"I'd have to agree," said Monier. "Hell, you'd have some people spelling out words to greet the visitors trying to be clever."

"If a state of war existed?" said Price.

"Even then," said Coollege. "There is always someone who has the dissenting view or believes the enemy is right and we are wrong. You just couldn't do it."

"So, if they did," said Price, "that tells us something more about them. Just as sticking one of their people on a ship that stayed in space for fifteen thousand years."

Price stood up and walked around his chair. He glanced back up at the screen and then walked to it, staring up at it. "Let's get some of this into the computer for the Colonel. We'll have to label it speculation, but then, that's what we're supposed to do. Speculate...no analysis," Price corrected himself. "This is analysis."

"I'd like some more information to work with," said Coollege.

"They'll probably send in more scouts now that they've scored a hit," said Price. "They'll need to gather more information as quickly as they can."

"And warn the enemy."

"Wait a minute," said Price. "We're assuming that we have an enemy. They might be the most friendly people in the world...make that galaxy."

"Except that they fired on the scout the first chance they got," Coollege reminded him.

Chapter Fifteen

Clark found that he couldn't get comfortable on the ship. He had too much space. He had a private cabin and if that had seemed cramped, which it didn't, he could have walked out into the corridor that, to him, seemed to go on forever.

He sat on the cot and stared at the deck, hugging himself and wishing that he could get off the ship. That was the thing about him. The older he got, the less he liked having to be on the main ships. They were too big and had too many people on them. If he could just dock with them for supplies and fuel, dispose of the waste on his ship, and replenish his supply of holographic movies, he would be happy.

He heard the quiet chime near the hatch and for a moment didn't know what it meant. He remembered and touched a button letting the hatch iris open.

Price stood there and asked, "Mind if I come in?"

"I'm very tired," said Clark.

"I can imagine. I just have a couple of questions that I wanted to ask outside the normal channels. Nothing on the record. Just your impressions, right or wrong."

Clark stepped back to allow Price to enter. He didn't like being that close to another human. He felt his space was being invaded. He was nervous, wanting to retreat as far from Price as he could.

"Mind if I sit down?" asked Price.

Clark pointed at the chair. "Go ahead."

Price sat down and studying the scout for a moment. "You get any feeling about the opposition?"
"Meaning?"

"You said that they fired on you the instant they spotted you."

"And got into range. Or what they thought of as being in range."

"What did you think about that?"

Clark closed his eyes, as if putting himself back into that time and then shook his head. "Nothing. I was just interested in evading their missiles. I didn't think about it one way or another."

Price rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not sure exactly what I'm looking for here. You didn't get a chance to see any of your adversaries did you?"

"What do you expect? That they made some kind of radio or video contact?"

"It's a thought," said Price.

"I have no idea what they looked like. I have provided pictures of their ships, their home world and city, and the system where I found it. I provided everything that I was required to supply."

"Yeah," said Price. "But you have no clue."

"No, Captain. I have no clue. I saw absolutely nothing other than their ships and their world. Hell, for all I know, those ships could have been controlled robotically."

"You think of anything else," said Price, "you let me know. I've got to have some answers but I don't have any."

"I might be going out on a mission soon," said Clark. "Very soon."

"If you do, please stop by the intell office before you go, just in case I've thought of something else."

Clark moved to the hatch and stood there as it irised open. When Price didn't stand, he said, "I'm very tired, Captain." He gestured toward the open hatch.

"Sure." Price stepped to the hatch, hesitated, and then left.

When Price was gone, Clark sat down on his cot again. Finally he stretched out on the cot, and rolled to his side so that he was staring at the bulkhead. He jammed his knees up against it, almost as if bracing himself in his cot and in seconds was asleep.

Chapter Sixteen

Price was walking down the dimly lit corridor, wondering why they were running on red when it was the middle of the day when he heard a voice behind him. He turned and saw Sergeant Wallace Stone hurrying toward him.

"Captain, we've been alerted."

"Alerted for what?"

"Recon mission. The Colonel isn't completely happy with the intelligence that has been gathered by his scouts to this point. He wants more data before he can make a command decision."

"Shit," said Price. "That's the last thing that we need right now."

"Colonel wants to meet with us in about an hour. All of us," said Stone.

"Now what's that supposed to mean."

"I understand that we have a new lieutenant assigned to our office."

"Right."

"I haven't had the opportunity to meet her," said Stone, "though I confess that I'm not looking forward to it."

"Now don't you start."

"Start what?" Stone asked innocently.

Price shook his head. "I wanted to get over to the morgue to talk with the doctors there."

Stone looked at his watch. "You've got about an hour before we have to meet the Colonel."

"Okay," said Price. "You go onto the office and tell Jackknife to pull everything we have on the alien planet, the asteroid and anything else that seems to fit."

"Yes, sir."

"Wait," said Price. "Tell Monier to put down her impressions on everything. Have her rate the stuff according to her level of confidence in it."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be along in a few minutes. I just have a couple of questions that I want to get answered."

"Are they relevant?" asked Stone.

"Rocky, I don't believe that is a question that a sergeant should be asking a captain."

"Are they relevant?" repeated Stone, grinning.

"That I don't know. It's just something that I want to get answered before we take off."

"I'll get the others started," said Stone.

Price hesitated and then asked, "How big of a push is this going to be?"

"I think the Colonel has it in his mind to invade that planet but he wants some more information before he makes his decision."

"Okay. I'll see you in about thirty minutes."

Stone nodded and whirled, trotting down the corridor.

Chapter Seventeen

Price found Dr. James sitting in the brightly lit morgue sipping coffee from a beaker in the time honored tradition of all pathologists and lab workers. James was leaning back in his chair, his feet propped on his desk, looking as if he was fighting a losing battle with sleep.

"Dr. James?"

"Yes."

"The Colonel said that he would contact you so that you would answer all my questions on the autopsy of the alien creature," Price said.

James let his feet drop to the floor and set the beaker on his desk. "I've have been informed by the Colonel to provide you with all information that you require."

"Good." said Price. Without waiting for an invitation, he dropped into the visitor's chair. "First, I want to know the cause of death."

James shrugged. "It didn't die."

"It's still alive?"

"No, it's dead, it just didn't die of natural causes or anything else."

Price shook his head and said, "I don't think I understand." And then suddenly he did. They had killed it. He felt his stomach turn over and his anger flare. There was a long standing rule in intelligence and that was that a dead man could tell you nothing of value. They'd had an invaluable intelligence resource and then had subjected it to medical experimentation that had killed it.

"Whose brilliant idea was that?"

James shrugged again. "No one's really. We were trying to learn as much as we could and were subjecting it to medical examination. It just didn't have the physical resources to survive."

"You assholes should have known that."

James raised his eyebrows but said reasonably. "Now why would we have known that. We had used ultra sound and MRI to examine the internal structure of the being. I will say that it was much simpler than I would have suspected."

Price almost didn't hear what was being said. He was still thinking about the timid creature that had revealed itself on the asteroid reluctantly. It hadn't wanted to leave its home until forced to do so by Price and his people.

"I would have thought," said Price, "that none of those things would kill it."

"It shouldn't have. We just wanted to know exactly how the creature had been put together and if its internal structure matched ours. It was not constructed to withstand any sort of rigorous examination surgery."

"Constructed?"

"Why yes," said James. "I thought you understood that. This being was not... a natural creature. It had been genetically engineered for the task that it had."

"You mean it wasn't sentient?"

"Strictly speaking it was. But it wasn't human... or sentient in the sense that we humans are. It was a biological being with a small brain that had been programmed for a specific task. It was an artificial creature. It was not natural. It was apparently programming to fulfill its task and then it expired."

"How did you figure that out?" asked Price.

"Studies on a cellular level," said James. "We were able to deduce this because of the lack of complexity of the internal structures and by examining the cellular material."

Price could think of several flaws in that thinking. Comparing an alien to a human to make such determinations didn't seem quite right to him, but he said nothing. Instead, he asked, "Then I take it the being was as vulnerable to our weapons as we are."

"Absolutely. Maybe more so simply because they don't have the internal mechanisms for healing that we have," said James suddenly sounding like a professor lecturing a bunch of first year medical students.

"I don't know, Doctor. I don't think we should have been experimenting on a creature from another world. Somehow it doesn't seem quite ethical."

"Well, I confess that I don't care what you think, Captain. I was told to answer your questions as completely as I could, but I don't have to listen to your moral philosophy. If you have another question, let's have it. If not, I've work to do." James stared at Price for thirty seconds and then turned his attention to his computer screen.

Price stood up knowing that he'd scored a point with his criticism. James had gotten too angry too quickly. But he couldn't figure out why it had been important. Maybe it was just to show up the scientists. They had experimented on a unique sample and destroyed it. That proved that they weren't infallible.

Holding out a hand, Price said, "Thank you, Doctor. Sorry about the judgmental comments."

James looked at Price's hand for a moment and then took it. "Yeah...I'm a little embarrassed by what happened. If you need anything else, please call."

"Sure. Thanks." Price couldn't think of anything else that he was going to need. He'd already gotten the answer. The Colonel had arranged it for some unknown reason.

Chapter Eighteen

Standing on the deck in the hangar bay, wearing a close fitting black outfit, Price felt foolish. Commandoes from Earth, about to infiltrate the enemy's position wore black outfits, painted their faces with camouflage paint and wrapped their heads with bandanas that would keep the sweat out of their eyes. Intelligence officers on a ship in space didn't do that.

Next to him, Coollege and Monier were dressed in the same fashion. Near them, sitting on the deck, were their backpacks which contained everything they would need to survive their two days on the planet's surface. Readings from the surveillance computer on Clark's scout ship showed that they could live in the atmosphere though the oxygen content was slightly higher than Earth normal. Gravity was higher and the average temperature was higher. It was a hot, dry, place where the would feel as if they carried an extra fifty or sixty pounds, but on which they could survive.

Stone, dressed in a flight suit without insignia was sitting on the deck, looking up under the ship. He was studying a hatch that didn't seem to fit properly. He slammed the heel of his hand into it, heard it pop into place and said, "That's got it. No one touch it now."

"We about ready?" asked Price.

"Colonel coming down to say good-bye to us?" asked Stone.

"He did that at the staff meeting," said Price. "We're ready to go when you are."

"Then let's go. Are the scouts out yet?"

Clark and his boys launched about two hours ago," said Price. "Everything is ready."

"Get your stuff stored, then," said Stone. "We'll get going in a few minutes."

Price picked up his pack, slung it over a shoulder and moved to the rear of the ship. It was larger than a scout but smaller than a shuttle. It had a cockpit that could accommodate two pilots, a cargo bay that could carry six soldiers and their assorted equipment, or enough gear, food and ammunition for a platoon for the better part of a week.

The exterior was painted with a special coating that could, by the introduction of a magnetic field, change color so the ship could be used at night, high noon, land in a desert or in a dense green jungle. The camouflage could change to reflect its surroundings. And creating variations in the magnetic field they could create a mottled pattern. It was a camouflage design taken from the cuttlefish on Earth.

Price opened the side hatch, tossed his pack in and then followed it. There wasn't much headroom. Price pushed his pack along the deck and then climbed up into one of the seats. He stored his gear, straping it down so that it wouldn't shift under acceleration.

A moment later Coollege dropped into the seat opposite him. "I don't think I'm going to like this, Tree. They're sending us in again without a proper briefing."

"We have to go in to gather the data," said Price. "Then we can provide proper briefings for the others."

Coollege pointed. "What about her?"

"I have a name," said Monier.

"Don't mind Jackknife," said Price. "She's always snotty at the beginning of a mission, especially one where we don't have much in the way of information."

"I don't need you to apologize for me," she said.

"Or course you do," said Price. "Somebody has to point out that you're acting like a child."

Coollege hitchhiked a thumb over her shoulder, indicating Monier. "We don't know how she's going to react in a hostile environment."

"That's it," said Price. "We never know how the new guy is going to act on the first mission. Just drop it now. We all have to work together or we could all die together." There was a silence and Price said, "Have I made myself clear on this? Do you understand me?"

Coollege didn't speak right away. Finally she said, "Yes, sir." She turned to Monier. "Sorry."

"No problem," said Monier.

Before anyone could say anything more, Stone said, over the intercom, "Let's get settled back there. Hatch secure?"

Monier looked at Price who said, "Use the lever to seal the door. Green light will tell you that its sealed right."

Monier turned and did as she had been told. When she finished, she worked her way forward and took one of the remaining seats. As she belted herself in, she said, "I'm not getting much on this planet. There is something wrong there. I don't see any real danger... there seems to be people around, but there is something wrong with them."

"This is a great time to tell us," said Coollege.

"I have a green board," said Stone on the intercom. "We will launch in two mintues. Let's get the gear stored and the seatbelts fastened. There won't be another warning."

Price settled back and said, "We're going to have twenty hours before planetfall. We'll have plenty of time to review the data, if we think it necessary. I am satisfied with the briefing by the operations officer."

"This is not going into a planetary environment where the inhabitants are human. We don't blend in," said Coollege.

Price took a deep breath and exhaled. The arguments had already been made in front of the Colonel but he had decided that more information was needed. Something from the ground. Something that had a human imprint on it so that it could be done quickly without haven't to delay for computer orders and observations. Robots and computers were fine, but they didn't think for themselves and that was why Price and his people found themselves on the ship. Price could have explained this to Coolledge but she had been told it all before. Debate was no longer needed. The orders had been issued.

"Survey said there were no people for us to worry about. We just observe, move around a little and then Rocky picks us up. We don't have to concern ourselves with blending in. It'll be no sweat."

The ship moved, turned, and the view through the tiny window changed until Price could see the control room at the far end of the hangar deck. Behind the glass of the windows, people were working. Lights were flashing. They were preparing to launch one of the ships.

They slipped forward, slowly at first and then faster. The lights of the hangar bay disappeared and were replaced by the darkness of space. Price searched for stars that he recognized, but they were too far from Earth and without a base to work from, he couldn't be sure which star was which. The perspective was changed and the few constellations still recognizable weren't visible.

As soon as they were clear of the ship and the fleet they began a rapid acceleration. Looking out the window during the transition always made his head ache so he glanced back at Coolledge. She was sitting bolt upright, her fingers gripping the arm rests and her knuckles were pure white.

"Relax," he said.

"I hate to go to light speed. I just hate it."

Price said nothing. He waited, but there was nothing inside the cabin to tell them that the transition had been completed. Nothing to suggest they had burst through the light barrier. No change in sound, no bump or bounce, but when he looked out the window, the stars had changed color. It was the only way for him to be sure the transition had been made.

Monier leaned closer and said, "What do we do now?"

"We sit here and try to rest. We review the information we have. We eat as much as we can becaue once we're down, we can't worry about such things."

"Sounds like fun."

Chapter Nineteen

Clark was leading a half dozen other scouts as they raced toward the planet. He watched the Heads Up, letting the numbers unwind as the distance between them and the planet disappeared. He was searching for the pickets he'd found before. He, along with his flight, was to destroy them so that there would be no report of a ship entering the system. It was so the ship with the passengers could sneak in and out before it was discovered by anyone on the planet.

Clark didn't like this much more than he had liked being on the fleet ship. He hated being assigned as a flight leader. Now he was responsible for the other people in his flight. If he made a mistake, they could all die. That worried him a great deal but there was nothing he could do about it now. The assignment had been made.

"Time to destination?" he asked the computer.

"Fifteen hours."

Clark nodded but he had known the answer. He'd been watching the chronometer since they had flashed away from the fleet. He had been dreading reaching his destination since then.

"Long range scanners on."

"Acknowledged."

Now Clark concentrated on the HUD searching for signs of the enemy pickets. The system was still a couple of light years distant and the signals from the scanners wouldn't reach it until long after Clark and the fleet had arrived. But, if there was something closer, a ship, a fleet, an asteroid, anything, the long range scanner would find it for him. But the HUD was clean, displaying the readouts that were normal.

"If you detect anything, you advise me," said Clark.

"Acknowledged."

Clark snorted once. It was ridiculous to tell the computer to advise him. It would do that unless he reprogrammed it or shut it down. But Clark was afraid that he was going to miss something important. To miss something would be to let the others with him down.

He tried to relax, to slip down in his seat to catch some sleep. When they reached the system he would have to be alert. But he couldn't sleep. His mind raced as he thought of the things that could go wrong, as he reviewed the various tactics that he would need as they approached the pickets... if there were pickets out there. Maybe there would be a fleet waiting for them and sweep them from the sky. He didn't know and the unknown scared him. That was new. Normally he delighted in that, but now there were others depending on him. It was his own fault. He had found the enemy first and now he was paying the price for completing his mission successfully. He had been designated as the flight leader.

Chapter Twenty

Monier crouched in front of Price and Coollege and said, "I just can't get much. There is something wrong here. Maybe its the distance. I just don't know."

"How do we know this works?" asked Coollege.

Price shot her a glance, thinking of the argument about mind reading they'd had and now Coollege was suggesting that Monier couldn't do it.

"I could give you a practical demonstration. We were selected after a series of tests. We were handed a sealed envelope and required to write a report on the contents without opening the envelop, of course. Another time we were required to provide reports on areas we'd never seen. A remote viewing they called it."

"Easy enough to say," said Coollege. "Especially after the fact."

"Jackknife," said Price, "You working on being an asshole? Let's just assume that somebody in command knows what he or she is doing. At the moment we have no reason not to believe in her ability."

"Yeah. Right."

"Rachel," said Price, "tell us what you have."

"As I said. Not much. I get a feeling of coldness. A hardness about this place. It's not softened by any human feelings or emotions."

"What about people?" asked Price.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe the problem is the distance. I've never had a problem with distance before, but then this is a whole new world. A whole new experience for me."

"You had a chance to explore the asteroid..."

"But there wasn't much there," said Monier. She closed her eyes and thought about that experience. There had been impressions but they seemed to be based, not on what the builders had been feeling, but those who had been captured by it. The overwhelming impression had been one of fear or dread and that had been it. Nothing about the builders, the architects, the engineers or the designers. Even when she had examined the crew compartment where the alien had slept there had been nothing. Just a relaxed feeling that indicated the being had slept most of the time it was on the asteroid, and they had already known that.

"Anything you can tell me would be very helpful," said Price.

"There is nothing to tell," said Monier.

"Now why am I not surprised?" asked Coollege.

"Shut up, Jackknife," said Price. "Just shut the fuck up."

"No," said Monier. "She's right. I haven't proved myself yet. I talk a good game but I haven't been able to produce anything that matters. Or anything that can be verified which is the same thing."

"We still have some time."

"It won't do any good," said Monier. "If there is anything to get, I would have gotten it by now."
Price nodded and said, "Okay." He sat back in his seat and glanced to the right so that he could look out into space. There still was nothing to see. Just a scattering of stars looking blurred because they had shifted into light speed.

"Everyone understand the mission?"

"Tree, we all get it," said Coollege. "There is nothing for us not to understand. What's with you?"
That was the thing that Price didn't understand. He was nervous about this. Not the normal pre-insertion jitters, but a deeper fear because he knew so little about the enemy or the environment. On a regular mission they would have a historical connection to the enemy. Every mission had been to a planet inhabited by humans. Now there was nothing like that. There was no historical connection.

In fact, the problem went deeper because they had had a real intelligence source but it had been killed. That bothered him. It would seem that any questions the biologists, the doctors, the physical anthropologists, or the pathologists had could be answered with current technology without subjecting the creature to the tests that had apparently killed it.

Suddenly, Price realized that was what bothered him. The pahtologist saying that the creature had died as they tried to explore its internal structure. He wondered, briefly, if the creature hadn't been killed so that it wouldn't be able to answer the questions that he wanted answered.
"What's the matter, Tree?" asked Coollege.

"I don't like this mission."

"Well, join the club," said Coollege. "I've been saying that since the Colonel briefed us."

"It goes beyond that. I wish there was someway to call it off. I want it stopped."

"Getting chicken?" asked Coollege. She smiled as she said it to soften the criticism.

"No. Getting smart. If we can contact the scouts, I think we'd better call this off." He started to stand.

"You're kidding," said Coollege.

"No. I want some better answers before I'm dropped into an environment I don't understand. That we don't understand."

"Which is what I've been saying."

"Rachel," said Price, "there has to be some reason that your talent isn't working here. I don't want to do anything until I understand that problem a little better."

"You can't be considering a scrub based on that alone can you?" she asked.

"No. There are some other problems as well." He leaned over and touched a button on the intercom. "Rocky, can we inform the scouts that we're going back to the fleet?"

"Are we?" asked Stone, his voice filled with surprise.

"If we can get the scouts recalled, I think we'd better. There are too many questions to be answered. The briefings and the planning for this mission have been inadequate."

"Give me a minute," said Stone. "I'll see if I can get a hold of them."

"Are you really authorized to scrub the mission?" asked Monier.

"Of course," said Price, suddenly relaxed. "At any point I can scrub it. As the mission commander, it is my responsibility to scrub it if the conditions warrant it."

Coollege breathed easier. "I didn't like this one either. Our preparation wasn't adequate."

"Yeah," said Price.

"Captain," said Stone. "Scouts are on radio silence. I can't recall them. There is no way for me to break through that without shielded, direct communication."

"Shit," said Price.

Chapter Twenty-one

There was a quiet chiming and a soft voice warned, "Contact. Contact. Contact."

"Put it on the HUD," said Clark.

The enemy was arranged in a straight, level line facing him. Four ships at the extreme range of the equipment with no IFF signals. It was obvious that these were not ships from any human source.

"Shielded signal to others in flight," said Clark.

"Signal sent and acknowledged."

"Time to maximum range for engagement and time to optimum range."

"One hour twenty minutes to maximum and two hours thirty-two to optimum."

Clark flipped a switch and used the shield radio communications. "Scout flight, we will engage the enemy in about two hours. There will be no missile launches until orders are given. You may maneuver independently to protect your craft but let's maintain unit integrity as long as possible. Respond in scout order."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"Six."

To the computer, he said, "Show me the distribution of my scouts."

"In blue."

Clark studied the HUD. His ships were clusted near him while the enemy was spread over a wide area. That would change, he was sure. At the moment he wasn't going to order his group to spread to engage the enemy. They might tighten their formation later. If they remained spread, they could be taken one at a time. A six on one fight wouldn't last very long. If they clustered, the six on four odds still gave him the advantage.

Now he was searching for any change in the situation. Would there be more enemy ships appearing? Would they scatter? Did they even know that he was approaching with his flight? All these things would give him clues, but the enemy continued to patrol as he had, as if unaware that anyone was nearing.

The time slipped by as the enemy maintained his routine. They were boring holes in space, circling at the edge of their system. They took no notice of the approaching scouts.

"Scouts," said Clark finally. "Engaging closest enemy. Follow me in."

Clark took the control stick and put his left hand on the thruster controls. He aimed his ship at the enemy and then fired the first of his missiles. It flew straight and true. The enemy made no move to dodge the missile. Forty seconds after launch, the missile detonated. There was a bright flash and the first of the enemy ships was gone.

"Piece of cake."

"No unauthorized chatter," said Clark.

The rest of the enemy ships maintained their headings. Clark checked his instruments and found that there was no communciation between the enemy ships. No electromagnetic radiation at all. Just a loose formation that continued to patrol as if nothing had happened.

"One, I am in range to attack."

Clark recognized the voice of William Carlson, one of the youngest of the scouts. "Four hold your position."

"Roger."

Clark turned his scouts toward the second of the enemy ships. As he began the attack run, he said, "Six, break off and take out the farthest of the enemy."
"Roger."

"Four, you have the next."

"Roger."

"Five you're with Six. Three you're with Four. Two, you're on me. Respond in flight order."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"Six."

Now Clark focused on the enemy ship. He waited until he had a good lock and fired a single missile. Again, the enemy didn't try to evade. The missile slammed into the ship, detonated in a blinding flash of light and was gone.

This bothered him. Why throw out pickets for sacrifice? Of course, with the disappearance of them, it was obvious that something was happening. Sometimes that was the purpose of the pickets. They were out there to cause the enemy to announce themselves.

Watching the HUD, he saw the other enemy pickets disappear one by one. Scanning the space around them, he could see no evidence that there were any more enemy ships.

"Let's make the transmission that the first phase of the mission is complete."

There was a moment of silence and then, "Message sent and acknowledged."

"Good," said Clark.

Chapter Twenty-two

Our scouts have punched through the first line of defense of the enemy," said Stone over the intercom.

"Well," said Price, "I guess we're committed now."

"How long before planetfall?" asked Coollege.

"About an hour. Let's make our final check of the gear."

Monier pulled her pack from under her seat, opened it and sorted through it. She pulled out her pistol, held it up and then slammed a magazine home. She set it on the seat beside her. "I'm ready."

"Don't chamber a round until we're on the ground."

"I've had enough training to know that we don't want the thing to fire in here," she said. "They did teach that much in the introduction course."

Price touched each of the items in his pack as if to reassure himself they were real. He pulled his pistol out, checked it carefully and then set it, and a full magazine on the deck near his feet. He sometimes wondered why the command insisted on using the outdated weapons. The laser pistols and rifles, which could sometimes draw power from the environment depending on the circumstances, were considered too advanced. Until they knew what the level of the technology of the enemy was, they used the old stuff. It was effective, it just had resupply problems.

Coollege stood up and said, "I'll check the rifles and the grenade launcher."

Price raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Grenade launcher. I didn't request one."

"I did," said Coollege. "I don't like to leave these things to chance."

"Come on, Jackknife. A grenade launcher. Who's going to carry the ammo for it."

"Ten rounds apiece. The ammo doesn't weigh all that much. It's no big thing."

"Okay," said Price grinning.

As Coollege moved to the rear of the small cabin, Monier leaned close to Price. "What's she so paranoid about?"

"I think it has to do with training. She made a big deal of sneaking a jackknife on a survival mission once. Everyone thought it was great so now she tries to think of things that others overlook. The grenade launcher is the latest of her tricks."

"A grenade launcher could give us a very nice edge in some situations," said Monier.

"Not for a sneak and peak intelligence mission," said Price. "We're supposed to be subtle. There is nothing subtle about a grenade."

Coollege returned and said, "The rifles are ready. Ammo is next to them." She then slipped her pistol into a shoulder holster worn under her black clothing. She shifted the gear in her pack slightly, and the closed it up, checking the balance of it. She slipped it on her back, adjusted it until it was comfortable and then took it off again.

"I'm ready," she said.

Price closed his pack and sat back. "At this point," he said, "I always feel there is something else that should be said, but I never know what it is."

"Then maybe we should just sit quietly, Tree," said Coolledge.

"Maybe so."

Chapter Twenty-three

The HUD was still clear and Clark couldn't help believing that he was flying into a trap. It was the old football play. Let the blitzing linebackers through so that they over ran the play while the quarterback tossed a pass to a back with a screen of blockers. The key was to let the enemy through so that it could be neutralized.

But the HUD was clear. Nothing showed anywhere and unless their stealth capabilities were such that it could defeat all types of sensors, Clark should be able to spot them. Stealth was an outgrowth of military organizations and constant warfare. A society where there was no war would have no reason to develop stealth. The problem was that Clark didn't know if they were a warlike society or not. Their tactics, to this point had been poor, but then, they did have weapons.

"We are entering the outskirts of their system," announced the computer.

Clark let the computer scan space all around him but the only thing that showed were his own ships. There was nothing else around them. Nothing of an artificial nature. No evidence of any equipment monitoring their progress.

"Where is the follow up ship?" asked Clark.

"Gaining on us now," said the computer. "One hour behind."

Clark took a deep breath and rubbed a hand through his short cropped hair. There was nothing for him to do but continue to push forward.

The line of scouts spread out along the plane of the ecliptic. One of them broke off, diving toward a moon that was in a long orbit around the outer most planet.

Clark watched on the computer display fed back through shielded beam. He saw a dim surface covered with dust, ice crystals and impact craters. The diving scout, cameras running, made a low orbit of the moon, found nothing radiating, and lifted up, back into space. He had been searching for some kind of outpost and found nothing.

"Moon is clean."

"Roger, Six."

The computer said, "No readings on the outer planets. No detectable radiation. Ninety-four percent probability that there are no outposts present on this planet or any of the moons orbiting it."

As the scouts fanned out, across the system, they continued toward the fourth planet. Clark kept his eyes on the HUD and the sensors, watching for any indication that the enemy knew that they were coming.

As they neared the target planet, the line began to contract again so that the scouts were in a loose formation no more than half a klick across. They had turned off all their lights, radios, radars and engines so that they were emitting nothing for the enemy to detect. They slipped forward in silence, heading for the large city that dominated the north pole of the planet.

The computer said, "Secondary craft is now fifteen minutes from touch down."

The sound of the computer's voice seemed unnaturally loud to Clark. He almost told it to shut up and then realized that it wouldn't shut up and that the enemy would never be able to detect the sound anyway.

He looked out the tiny window. The planet dominated his view. The city was a dung colored expanse on the top of the world. He had no real mission, other than buzz the city and keep it busy watching him and his scouts for a few minutes. Let it detect a lot of activity over it and hope that it didn't bother to monitor the rest of the planet's surface.

"Secondary craft is ten minutes from touch down."

Clark turned on his radio, unshielded and ordered, "Let's begin the run. Respond in flight order."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"Six."

Clark turned on his lights and radars, boosting the power levels so that he would suddenly burst into prominence. It would appear that a ship exploded on any electromagnetic detectors below. It should draw all attention to him to him and his scout flight.

He pushed the stick over and punched through the upper reaches of the atmosphere. There was a shuttering, as if he had flown into a thunderstorm but it dampened out quickly. He steepened the dive.

"Activate all sensors."

"Tracking of our ship," said the computer.

They were plummeting toward the surface. Clark was watching as the radar altimeter unwound rapidly. He kept an eye on the HUD and a hand on the thrusters.

"Missile launch," announced the computer.

That was what Clark had been waiting for. He pulled back on the stick, worked the thrusters and waited for the nose to come up. "Where is the missile."

"Missile on the right, forty-two thousand feet below, accelerating rapidly."

"Type of homing?"

"Radar lock."

"Pop a chaff dispenser."

"Chaff fired."

Clark rolled to the right, dove slightly and then jinked right and left trying to break the radar lock. He watched the HUD, seeing that the missile had finally locked onto the chaff cloud. It popped through chaff and then detonated in a boiling, roiling burst of bright orange fire and dense black smoke.

Clark felt relieved. It had been simple to defeat the missile. "Status of other scouts."

"In line, diving on target."

"Status of secondary mission."

"Ship has disappeared."

To himself, Clark said, "I hope they made it in."

Chapter Twenty-four

The one thing that I can never decide," said Price, "is if we should go in with our seatbelts buckled or unbuckled. If the area is hot, then we want to get out as quickly as possible. But if something should go wrong on the landing, we'd want to be belted in for our own protection."

"Unbuckled," said Coollege. "If we crash, we're probably not going to be in very good shape even if belted in. Besides, the enemy will probably kill us anyway."

"Thank you for that delightful thought," said Price sarcastically. He realized that he was just talking now because he was nervous. He was always nervous before a landing even if he knew everything that he needed to know for survivable. Any mission did that to him.

Monier was leaning over, pushing at her pack. She straightened up and said, "I'm ready."

Price was struggling to get his pack shouldered. He adjusted it until it was fairly comfortable and buckled his pistol belt. Then, shifting the pack slightly, he tightened down the shoulder straps.

"You're not ready until you've got your pack on," Coollege told Monier. "If something happens and we have to scramble out of the aircraft you will leave behind everything that is not fastened to your body."

"Of course," said Monier.

Over the intercom, Stone said, "We're about to enter the atmosphere. Let's be alert."

"Have they spotted us?"

"No indications. Scouts are still harassing the Citadel."

"Citadel?" said Price.

"That big city area at the top of the world," said Stone.

"How long until we touch down?"

"About twelve minutes. I've got everything set passive. We haven't been detected, as far as I can tell."

"Keep me advised."

"Roger that."

Price leaned back in his seat, and wiggled, trying to get comfortable with the pack on his back. He reached down and tried to buckle the seatbelt but it wouldn't adjust enough so that he could still sit there.

Coollege brought him one of the rifles and handed it to him, along with a bandolier that held a dozen spare magazines for it. He drapped the bandolier over his head and shoulder so that it was hanging across his chest.

"Ten minutes," said Stone. "No indications that they enemy is aware of us."

"Monier?" asked Price.

She closed her eyes and then shrugged. "I'm getting nothing. No hostile vibrations out there. If they know we're coming, they don't care."

"Crap," said Coollege.

"Once on the ground," said Price, "we get out quickly and get away from the ship. Stone's got to take off as fast as he can. We don't want to expose him to hostile fire if we can avoid it."

"Sure, think of him," said Coollege.

"And if he gets out, he's no longer a beacon that leads right back to us," said Price.

"Right," said Coollege.

"Once on the ground," said Monier, "what are we going to do?"

"Get away from the landing zone as quickly as we can," said Price. "If the enemy is monitoring, they might know that we landed. If they want to search, that would be the place to start it."

"Yeah," said Monier.

"Five minutes," said Stone.

Price put a magazine into his rifle, slapped the bottom to seat it and then worked the bolt, looking down into the breech to make sure the first round was seated properly. He wished again they could have brought the laser rifles. No problem with ammunition. No worry about an accidental discharge as long as the battery pack was unplugged.

"Everyone set?" asked Price.

"Set," said Coolledge. She was sitting calmly on the edge of her seat her backpack forcing her forward.

Monier looked scared. Her face was drained of color. Her fingers danced over her rifle, touching the trigger guard, the bolt, the barrel, as if trying to make sure that all the parts were still there. She looked up suddenly, her eyes wide and said, "Set."

Coollege hitchhiked a thumb at Monier. "If she's psychic, how come she's so scared?"

"Shut up, Jackknife," said Price.

"It's okay," said Monier.

"No, it's not. If we're going to work together on this, we have to trust one another."

Coollege nodded slightly and said, "Sorry."

"No," said Monier. "I don't blame you. It is a radical concept."

"Two minutes," said Stone.

"Here we go," said Monier.

Price laughed and said, "I don't care how often I do this or how small the team is, someone always says that."

"Sorry."

"Brace yourselves," said Stone.

Price leaned back in the seat, his hands on the arms, and waited. Monier had her eyes closed and her lips were moving as if she was praying silently. Coollege was looking toward the window but there was nothing to see except the darkness of night. No lights to break up the landscape, nothing traveling on the ground and nothing coming up to intercept them.

"About a minute. You'll know when we're down. Get out as quickly as you can."

No one in the rear answered. The lights had been turned down to a red glow that was just bright enough so that Price could see the outlines of the others. Their faces took on a strange look in the dull red light.

They bounced once and then dropped sickenly, like an elevator that was falling free. They bottomed out, hit the ground and bounced again. Price lost his grip on the arms of the seat and fell to the deck. He rolled to the bulkhead and tried to sit up.

"You okay?" asked Coollege.

"Yeah."

They stopped suddenly, as if they had run into something solid. The rear of the ship lifted and then dropped. Monier fell forward landing on her face. She grunted as she hit the deck.

As soon as they stopped, Price leaped up. He shook his head as if to clear it. He worked his way toward the rear door and bent low to twist the locking wheel.

Coollege joined him. "Hurry."

Price spun the wheel and pulled in and lifted up. The door slipped out of the way. "Go."

Coollege jumped down, onto the soft ground, not realizing that she was the first human to set foot on the planet. She stumbled and put out a hand to stop her fall.

Price saw Monier and said, "Hurry."

She reached the door and dropped through. Price followed her, turned, and pulled at the door so that he could close it. He heard the quiet clicks as it locked.

"Jackknife? Where are you?"

"Here."

Price saw Monier crouched near the rear of the ship. He reached down and grabbed her under the arm. He pulled her to her feet. "Let's get moving."

She strumbled forward and then stopped. She looked back, confused.

Price pushed her toward a black smudge in the distance. "We'll head for those trees."

"Where's Coollege."

"Over there. Come on, we've got to move."

Behind them there was a single flash of light and then a roar began building. The ship lifted like a helicopter and spun to the right until it was facing the direction from which it had come.

"Rocky's going to take off. We've got to get clear."

At that moment Monier disappeared from sight. Price glanced down and spotted her lying at the bottom of a ditch. He jumped in and as he did, the engines of the ship roared as it lifted off. At five hundred feet it turned away from them, changing from a large black craft into a bright burning fire. The nose came up and the roar became deafening as the ship shot higher into the atmosphere. In seconds it was faded from sight.

"Tree?"

Price stood up. Through the tall grasses and low bushes he could see Coollege moving. She was crouched over, bent at the waist like a woman fighting a strong wind.

"Get to the trees," he said quietly. "We're right behind you."

She turned and began to lope across the field, running toward the trees in the distance. She vanished in the darkness.

"Come on," said Price. He climbed from the ditch and knelt in the thick grass. It was a dry, bittle grass that rattled as he moved.

Monier stood up and reached out for a hand. Price took it and hauled her up. He pointed toward the trees and said, "Run in that direction. Coollege is waiting."

"Okay," she said but she didn't move immediately. Instead she seemed to stare at the trees moving her face back and forth like a radar antenna searching for the enemy. "Nothing out there in front of us."

"Then move it," said Price.

Monier got to her feet and began to jog across the field like she was trying to burn off calories. She did not resemble a military officer on a mission but a long distance runner on the track.

"Amateur," he said. He waited until she was about halfway to the trees and then started after her. He kept low, using the shadows for cover.

As he got close to the trees, he slowed and then stopped short. He listed to the sounds around him. He'd been a dozens of planets and there had always been background noise. Insects buzzing, small engines, animals or people. Here there was nothing. Just the same quiet that he'd heard in the isolation chamber.

"Tree?"

Price didn't answer. He stood up and began to work his way into the trees.

Chapter Twenty-five

Clark was watching the progress of the attack on the HUD. Scout Two had rolled through, fired a single missile that had been engaged and destroyed by the a single energy beam. A laser beam had stabbed out, touched the ship and then slipped off. Scout Two's tail glowed brightly for an instant and then it began to cool.

"Three is rolling in."

Clark punched a button and the screen to the left brightened, showing him a rear view. "Magnification ten on the left."

"Acknowledged."

Now he could see the third scout ship as it dove from the outer reaches of the atmosphere. It was a streak of brightness that was aimed right at the center of the Citadel. It began to glow from the friction of the dive.

Clark took his eyes off the screen, scanned the HUD and the sky outside. There was nothing to see either on the screen or in the atmosphere.

Scout Three fired one missile but as it dropped from the rail, it exploded. A beam from the city had touched it. The detonation flipped the scout ship over. Fire burst along the underside. It flashed toward the tail, whipped by the speed of the craft through the air.

He twisted around, spinning, trying to put out the fire but that didn't work. He righted his ship, shallowed the dive but the flames stuck to the hull. It began to glow cherry red.

"Three is in trouble."

"Four, stick with him," said Clark.

"Four, roger."

Scout Three tried to climb then but the ship didn't respond to the controls. Flames had melted the thruster ports.

"Three is going down."

"Four is with you."

"Five, begin the run. Six you're with him."

"Five."

"Six."

"Two, join on me," said Clark.

"Two."

Three slipped lower, closer to the Citadel. There was nothing he could do to put out the fire. Instead, he dumped the nose, aimed at the Citadel and punched off everything he carried. Missiles flashed and streaked. Four bombs tumbled free, falling toward the center of the city. The sudden decrease in weight lifted the craft and the nose came up. But the fire continued to burn.

Below beams flashed, targeting each of the missiles and the bombs. They exploded one by one in brilliant flashes. The display lasted for only seconds. And then came a final detonation as Scout Three disintegrated.

"We lost Three. We lost Three!"

Clark didn't respond. He'd seen it explode on the screen but that had been unreal, like watching one of the holos he used on long missions. It was something created for his entertainment.

The call from Two woke him it. The panic and awe in the voice made the death of the pilot real. He thought that he should say something but there were no words.

The Citadel wasn't finished. Now it had learned that the attack could be stopped. Beams from all over the surface stabbed up looking like a thousand multicolored searchlights. They scanned across the sky.

"Let's get out of here," said Clark. It was apparent that they had the attention of the Citadel. It was trying to sweep them from the sky.

Scout Four was hit by one beam and tried to twist away. A second focused on it and then a third. The hull became to superheat and the metal of the skin began to run like water. One of the beams punched through to the electronics, frying the computer. The HUD popped and darkened. The flight instruments failed. And then the flight controls. But that didn't matter. A second beam holed the rear and destroyed the engines. The craft then blew up.

Scout Five ceased to exist a moment later. The rear blew off and the nose cartwheeled forward. A small portion separated, a rocket fired, propelling it away from the burning, tumbling wreckage.

"Five got out," said Six. The relief in his voice was unmistakable.

A beam followed the pod and an instant later, it was gone. The escape pod disintegrated without a flash or detonation. It just ceased to exist.

"Scouts, this is Lander. We're out."

Clark keyed the mike. "Scouts. Let's go." He hit the thrusters and was thrown back in his seat. He looked at the HUD to watch the Citadel recede but it wasn't happening fast enough. The beams were still reaching for him, dancing across the hull of his ship. And then he was suddenly clear of the atmosphere.

"Scout check."

"Two."

"Six."

Half his force was gone. He hoped that it had been worth the price.

Chapter Twenty-six

Price crouched in the darkness his hand on the smooth bark of a tree trunk. It was so dark in the forest that Price couldn't see anything other than the black shape of the tree and a single bush about two feet from him. Overhead, through a break in the canopy, he thought he could see a small portion of the night sky. He knew that Coolledge and Monier were in forest somewhere but he couldn't actually see them.

"We can't travel through this, Tree," said Coollege softly She was to his right.

"We could drop back and skirt the edge of the woods," said Price. "At least we could see one another."

"Standard procedure says that we travel across the worst possible terrain and at night or bad weather."

"Doctrine doesn't mean squat here," said Price. "Besides, that's escape and evasion."

"If I might interrupt," said Monier. "I'm getting nothing here. Anywhere around here. I think it would be safe for us to travel outside the woods."

"There," said Price, suddenly speaking in a normal tone of voice. "See?"

That surprised and shocked Coollege. "Be quiet, Tree," she said.

"Why? Rachel says we're all alone."

"If we believe her."

"I do," said Price. "Which way should we go?"

Monier was quiet for a moment and then pointed. "In that direction." Her hand was barely visible. Price had located her by the sound of her voice.

"I can't see anything over there," said Coollege.

"Rachel, you have the point. Walk very carefully, slowly. We're not interested in getting very far, just that we make some progress."

"Sure, Tree."

"She's got the point?" asked Coollege incredulously.

"She can see better than either of us." Price stood up and stepped closer. He reached out, feeling for Monier with his left hand. He touched the top of her head. "Let's go. I'll hold onto your shoulder. Jackknife, you need to hang on to me."

"Right."

Monier was on her feet, facing away from them. "I just walk along?"

"Slowly," said Price. "Using a walking stick to feel your way along. We don't want to go strolling off a cliff."

"Walking stick?"

"Stay right here," said Price. He let go of her and worked his way around, feeling with his right hand. He found a sapling, crouched and cut it off near the ground with his knife. He stripped the tiny branches and the leaves from it quickly. He turned and stared into the darkness and no longer had any idea where Coolledge and Monier were. He couldn't see them though he knew that he was no more than a few feet from them.

"Somebody is going to have to say something."

"Right here, Tree," said Coollege. She sounded as if she was disgusted with him.

He turned his head toward the sound and walked into Monier. She stumbled back but Price caught her before she could fall. "Sorry."

Coollege reached out and touched him. "If we're through clowning around."

Price ignored her. He handed the walking stick to Monier. "Don't hurry. We have all the time we need." He felt Coollege's hand his shoulder. He glanced back but even though she was in arm's reach, she was little more than an indistinct charcoal smudge.

Monier probed the ground in front of her with the stick and found it to be solid. She lifted the stick, swung it right and left, searching for something she might walk into and then took a step. She began to work the stick rapidly. Right, left, probe to the front and then a couple of steps.

The system worked fine until she walked into a low hanging branch. She bumped her head and grunted in surprise and pain. She stopped walking.

"What?" asked Price.

"Bumped my head."

"Some psychic," said Coollege.

Price felt Monier stop. There was a tension in her shoulders that hadn't been there a moment ago. He could feel her turn her head.

"I've about had it with you," she said, her voice low and filled with fury. "You don't have a clue about what you're talking about."

"I know that you're not trained for this. We've got to carry you."

"Knock it off," said Price suddenly angry. Arguments on the ship were one thing but on the planet's surface there were something else. "There will be no more discussion of this. Period. We have got to work together or the mission is as good as finished."

"I wasn't searching for branches. I'm trying to find intelligence around here," said Monier anyway.

"Right," said Coollege.

Price let his hand drop from Monier's shoulder and turned to face Coolledge. He still could not see her, but could feel her hot breath on his face.

"You are supposed to be a professional. Act like it."

"Yes, sir!"

Price was going to say more but stopped. He knew that Coollege was just reacting. She'd figure it out in a moment. They had to work together regardless of the feelings. He turned and put his hand on Monier's shoulder. "Let's go."

They started off again, ducking under the branch that Monier had found. Now, she worked the stick quickly but held a hand up feeling for more low hanging branches. She stared into the dark, trying to see anything that might be in her path.

With her mind she reached out, beyond the woods and into the areas ahead of them, toward the major city. She knew there was something close. Small and furry with almost no intelligence. A small animal that operated on instinct rather than cunning. That was the thing. She could pick up impressions from the higher animals. Feelings of fear, caution, hunger and some emotions. Dogs were often happy to see a friendly face. Chimpanzees actually thought about problems and could work with other chimps to solve them. But here the animal reading was very low level and she could only pick up the single individual. She put that out of her mind.

As she felt around with her mind, she realized that the hand on her shoulder was reassuring. She didn't know if Price was trying to calm her or if he had the confidence in her that he seemed to be radiating. It didn't matter. She appreciated the feeling.

She slowed then and stopped. Price leaned close and whispered, "What?"

"We're about to exit this part of the forest."

"Wait one," said Price. He slipped to one knee and listened carefully.

Coollege, right behind him, turned so that she was facing back the way they had come. She was watching to make sure that no one came up on them, though it would be next to impossible for her see them in the darkness.

"I'm going to check this out," said Price now being quiet, whispering in Coollege's ear.

She didn't answer him. Suddenly they were a team again, in a hostile environment. Extra noise could lead the enemy right to them.

Price worked his way forward slowly, one hand out in front of him. He moved with a precision that was built on all his training. He noticed that the forest was becoming lighter in front of him. The trees weren't as tall and the foliage not as thick.

He reached the end of the forest and stopped. It looked as if a giant had taken a knife and sliced off the trees at that point. It was a straight line. Beyond it was an empty field. Price couldn't tell if was a cultivated field, a park, or something else. It was still too dark for him to see anything useful.

He stretched out on the ground and studied the area. He listened but there was still no sound, other than a quiet rustling caused by a light breeze. But still there were no insects, animals, birds, or even the noise of civilization. It was as if there was nothing but the vegetation.

Slipping to the rear, he stood and moved back into the forest, scanning right and left, but still unable to see anything other than the blackness of the forest. "Jackknife."

"Here."

"Again," said Price.

"Right here."

Price moved toward the sound and saw the hunched shape of Coollege on the ground. She was moving her hand back and forth so that it would be easier for him to see her.

"Let's rest here for a few minutes. We've got a large field to cross before the sun comes up."
"How long until that?" asked Coollege.

Price pulled back the long sleeve of his camouflage jacket and realized that ship time, based on Earth time, had no relevance to the planet.

"Couple of hours, I think. I don't know."

"Shouldn't we eat something?" asked Monier.

"No yet," said Price. "Drink some water if you want but we won't eat until after we find a place to hole up for the day."

"Okay," she said, but she didn't understand it. There would be no one searching for them. She was sure of that.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Clark had formed his scouts in a loose formation on his ship as they had flashed from the planet's atmosphere. He kept checking the HUD, hoping that the missing ships would reappear though he knew they wouldn't. They were gone. He'd seen them explode under the focused attention of the planetary's point defense system.

His computer was scanning space ahead of him and had found nothing there. Behind him were a number of small ships, but all had been identified as the landing ships launched from the fleet. A half dozen intelligence teams had been inserted. Now those ships were off the planet's surface and all were racing to join on him.

He knew that the destruction of half his flight was not his fault. It was the breaks of the game but he still felt responsible. There should have been something that he could have done to prevent the problem. That thought kept intruding though he tried to ignore it. Now was not the time to dwell on those problems. That was something that would come later. Now he had to get clear of the enemy's system.

"Approaching edge of main planetary system," said the computer.

Clark checked the HUD again. The flight was joined with no stragglers. Sensor sweeps had shown nothing in front of him. The enemy wasn't waiting to ambush them.

Over the radio, he said, "Prepare for jump to light speed on my mark."

There was a series of acknowledgments. Clark then touched a series of buttons, flipped a switch and said, "Let's go to light speed."

As the ship transitted the barrier, Clark sank back into his seat. He kept his eyes moving from instrument to instrument but that was only something to occupy his mind. He kept slipping back, watching his own run on the Citadel as if he was outside his ship, waiting for the enemy to respond. Then he could see the others as they rolled in, trying to light the sky with a display that would keep the attention of anyone on the ground. Here was the extraterrestrial menace over their city. Keep them busy while the other ships slipped in far to the south to land the intelligence teams.

"It was a stupid plan," he said outloud. It wouldn't have fooled them for a minute. They would have been able to see the invaders over the pole and the others trying to sneak in even if they were coming in low from another direction. Who had thought it would work?

And then he realized it had worked because the ships had landed and had gotten away. All the teams were in place, moving on toward the Citadel. It had cost three scouts, but they had gotten down.

"Flight integrity intact after jump to light," the computer told him.

"Time to fleet?"

"Nineteen hours."

"Nineteen hours," repeated Clark. He wanted to be there now. He wanted to go through the debriefing, talk about what he'd seen, review the computer logs and holo record and get it over with. That was what he wanted.

The radio crackled and Clark heard, "Scouts, well done."

That was it, the whole message. Clark recognized the voice of the Colonel. He was violating procedure to let him know that the sacrifice had been appreciated.

Outloud, Clark said, "Bullshit."

Chapter Twenty-eight

The field wasn't much different than the one they had landed in several hours earlier. The vegetation was about knee high. The field was level without any ditches or rocks or hills. Just a flat plain, not unlike a cultivated field, through the crops hadn't been planted in rows and from the tangle at the base of them, it didn't seem that anyone cared much about agriculture. The field had been leveled and that was all that Price could tell about it.

Off on the horizon there was a light band of pink that faded to gray and rose toward the zenith. If they had been on Earth, Price would have called it east... and since direction was an arbitrary designation, he decided that it was the east.

Coollege, who had been about five feet behind him, stepped closer and whispered. "Sun's going to rise."

"I can see."

"Looks like the trees are about a mile away. We're not going to make it before daylight."
"I don't think it matters," said Price.

Monier, still in the lead, had tossed away the walking stick. She was moving rapidly, her head down as she looked at the ground.

Price scanned the horizon. It was definitely brighter than it had been. The charcoal grays had brightened, lightening so that shapes were now visible. All he could see were bushs and trees. Nothing to suggest that the planet was inhabited.

Coollege was staying close now. "You don't think Rocky put us on the wrong planet, do you?"

"Rocky landed us right where we're supposed to be. That doesn't mean that somebody else didn't screw up."

"This is great." The trees were closer but they were also brighter. Price noticed that the leaves looked more like cotton candy that had been painted green and glued to the trunks. He was sure that he would see a split rail fence when the sun was finally up. But as they approached the other end of the field and the ground became lighter, it was obvious that there would be no fence.

Monier stopped just before she entered the trees. She turned and looked back at Price. He waved her forward and she disappeared.

"This is the strangest assignment I've ever had," said Coollege as they neared the trees.

"Search for an enemy that doesn't seem to exist," said Price.

"Long before we jumped into space," said Coollege, "we had filled our planet with cities, factories, and farms."

They entered the trees. Monier had stopped and was standing near a large bush covered with yellow flowers. She was covered in sweat and looked tired. "I think we need to rest."

Price nodded. "Let's take a couple of hours. Eat something. Get some sleep. You picking up anything?"

"Nothing at all."

"Strangest planet I've ever seen."

Chapter Twenty-nine

They couldn't hold the briefing in the normal conference room because there were too many people who were going to be involved. All the pilots from the various missions, the staff officers, and intelligence officers were also there. And the Colonel had also invited a number of infantry officers from other regiments to attend the meeting. It was going to be the planning session.

The room was as noisy as the a theatre before the play started. Dozens were talking, speculating, shouting greetings at friends they had seen for days and then disagreeing with the orders they knew would be issued. When the hatch irised opened and the Colonel stepped through, the room fell silent, almost as if a switch had been thrown.

The Colonel moved to the front of the room, near the control panel for the holo and computer. There was a large, high backed leather chair waiting for him. A sergeant stood waiting for the Colonel, holding a leather folder that contained all the information that had been gathered.

The Colonel sat in the chair, waved a hand and said, "Let's be seated."

There was a rustling as the men and women sat down, but no one spoke. They waited to learn what was happening, though many of them had heard various rumors.

"As you know," said the Colonel without preamble, "a number of months ago we discovered an asteroid traveling between stars. It was an artificial construct filled with scientific experiments and equipment. Obviously, this was the result of an intelligence that had launched the craft long before we had developed any type of civilization, let alone space travel."

The air above the audience, which was sitting in rows facing the Colonel, shimmered and a holo of the asteroid drifted over them, rotating slowly to give everyone a good view of the entire craft.

"Scout searches for the last several months were unsuccessful in locating the home planet. Recently, Randly Clark changed all that. We have located the home world of the builders of the asteroid. We have inspected their world and have landed six intelligence teams on it."
The Colonel waited for a burst of noise, but the staff sat in dead silence. Some of them were watching the rotating orb in front of them. Others had focused their attention on the Colonel as he stood there.

The scene above the stage changed slowly. The silvery orb faded away, replaced by a light brown planet with a tan cap to it. The large oceans were a bright blue and there were even a few clouds hovering over the planet to make it look more realistic.

"As we approached this planet, our scouts were attacked. Lieutenant Clark engaged them, punched through their picket line and explored the planet. He was engaged by their defensive systems. When we put down the Intel teams, Clark and his scouts were again attacked." The Colonel looked at Clark. "That's right, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, I think we can assume that the inhabitants of the planet are hostile."

One of the staff officers held up a hand and said, "Sir, I don't think we can assume these people are hostile without a little more data."

"They shot down three of our scouts," said the Colonel evenly.

"After we shot our way into their system. I venture to say we would react with hostility if the situation was reversed," said the officer.

"Captain," said the Colonel, "we are not here to debate the situation. Those decisions have already been made."

"Yes, sir."

Without waiting for more, the Colonel flipped a page in his notebook and began to talk. He gave them all the information that had been learned since the asteroid had been captured. He told them about the other aliens who had also managed to enter it but who had died before they could learn the secrets of it. He talked of the studies that provided clues about the location of the builder's home world. He talked of the many recons by scouts and the building of a base of information until they knew as much as they could without having anyone to spy on the planet's civilization.

"That is all changing," said the Colonel. "We now have teams on the planet's surface searching for answers to these questions. They are in communication with our intelligence facilities remaining here, on the flag ship."

One of the infantry officers looked up and said, "Are we going to invade... on the ground."

"That is the question we're here to answer."