My last thought before I hit the ground is of those final sensor readings. No matter what happens, they give me hope. I do not know how, but the readings were unmistakable. There is already a Bolo on Thule.
* * *
Lord Whitestar moved through the night jungle by instinct, navigating by the smell of certain plants, by the echoes of his own footfalls off the trunks of trees, and the occasional flashes of starlight through the canopy above. The Ones Above had warned them that they must show no light to the sky above, no fire, no torch, as the devils would be watching. Even the wonderful weapons that the Ones Above had given them had to be taken into the nests for repair. The lights-of-function that showed when a given part was functional or should be replaced, even showing one of those to the sky could give them away.
He could hear quiet chants of victory all through the jungle, and he knew that chanting just like this spread through the jungle for several days’ walk, to wherever the men of his widely dispersed clan made camp. They had cut deep into the enemy’s vitals today, raided one of his nests, killed all his warriors, all his hatchlings.
Whitestar’s fur bristled with satisfaction and pride. The Ones Above would be pleased, and would favor their blessings on his clan above all others. It had been promised that, when the time came, they would be shown where even more powerful weapons were hidden, shown how to use the ones they had in even more deadly ways.
He stopped, taking a deep breath. He smelled her before he heard her voice. She carried the brooding smell, the smell of one caring for eggs. It made his blood burn, but did not excite him. Instead it brought out instinctive, protective urges. It made him want to kill the human devils even more, to sweep the world clean of them to protect his eggs. “Are you there, Whitestar?”
“This way,” he said. Her senses would be tuned for the eggs now, for the hatchlings. She could hear their cries of help across a raging river, or smell an illness before they would even feel it, but it made it more difficult to travel in the jungle at night.
She stepped closer, the smell of her stronger, the outline of her smaller form just visible in the starlight. “What are you doing here, Sweetwater? The eggs—”
“The second-wife warms them, my lord. As first-wife, it is my right to take a rest occasionally. I came looking for you.”
“I was returning to the nest.”
“Then I will follow you. I hear your victory was great today.”
Whitestar clicked his bill in affirmation, and returned to walking, slower this time so she could keep up.
“Then Twostone is dead?”
“He took the Fist of the Ones Above to a place where it would disable their defenses. Take away their machines. They are soft and weak. Not like us. By nightfall, we had returned them all to their foul maker. Twostone died well. He did not die for nothing.”
“Did he have to die at all, Whitestar?”
“Not this again, woman. The devils we have been raised to fight are finally here. This is the time of destiny. We are lucky to be alive to see it.”
“Your eldest hatchling is lucky to be alive to see it. I watched you from afar when you fought Twostone. You showed him mercy. Could you not do as much to your own hatchling, your eldest?”
“Blackspike would not yield, woman. He would have killed me. Only my skill saved me from killing him. I saved him from spilling his own blood in battle, like Twostone. I saved him to take my mantle as lord when I am gone.”
“He is hot-blooded, Whitestar. All the young ones are, as the old women say your generation is hotter blooded than your fathers. It is like a creeping madness.”
“It is our strength. It is what helps us kill the devil humans.” This was a very sore subject between them. The old women remembered too much, talked too much, caused too much trouble. Some days he thought he should just have his warriors kill them. But there was truth to it, especially among the highborn who were blessed with the teachings of the Ones Above. It was the duty of the lowborn fodder to spill their blood against the devils. It was the duty of the highborn not to die without using their teachings, and without passing those teachings on.
They had to deny the heat of their own blood. He stopped outside the nest and turned to her. “Have you placed the eggs in the blessing chamber yet?” The blessing chambers were among their most sacred artifacts. Each new clutch of eggs was to spend two days in its warm, shuttered interior. It was there that the blessing of the Ones Above was delivered onto the clan.
She hesitated. “No, my lord, I have not. The old women say that is where the blood of our males becomes poisoned. The eggs are returned with tiny punctures in the skins. The old women say that is where it goes in, like venom from a sting-lizard’s tongue.”
“The old women make up stories to frighten the likes of you, first-wife. Forget what they tell you, and deliver our eggs for their blessing before it is too late.”
“I speak these things because the lord should know what the females think. It is not just the old women. They tire of seeing their family males driven to madness by the fire within. They tire of losing their mates, their sons and brothers to duels, to challenges, and now to war. They fear that we will only anger the devils and that they will come and kill us all.”
“If it’s the will of the Ones Above that we die in our war against the devils, then so be it. But we are taught that one clan will rise above the others and show the Ones Above where the human devils are weak, where they can most easily be destroyed. That is why the clans must not mingle, why we must be different of custom and of form, so that we may demonstrate which is best. And once that clan has the devils on the run, then the Ones Above will sweep down from the skies and finish the job. The clan that shows the way will be our clan, and honored will be our place in the heavens at the side of the Ones Above.”
“Who will be left to sit at their side, lord? You? Will your sons live to see that day? Remember that you have another one. Will you spill his blood too?”
“Is that what you really came to talk about? Sharpwing is barely out of the egg.”
“Sharpwing is old enough at least to think he can fight, and he is younger, his blood burns hotter yet than his brother’s. He is furious at what you have done. He longs to die for the Ones Above. I think he will challenge you. Perhaps soon.”
“Then I will do what I must do. Blackspike will heal. He must become lord of the clan, for the good of all. Sharpwing is my chick, but he is no leader. I will do what I must.”
There was silence for a time. “Do not kill Sharpwing, husband. If you kill him, Whitestar, I will never forgive you. You will still be lord, but I will be sure that your time is never happy again.”
Then she turned and left him alone in the darkness.
Alone with his own thoughts. “As though my time is happy now,” he said quietly.
* * *
Tyrus awoke in darkness, head pounding, his face against cold, smooth, metal.
“Remain still and silent.”
The words seemed to fill Tyrus Ogden’s head, making the pain even worse. It took him a moment to remember what had happened. The explosion, the massive maintenance building trembling and collapsing around him. He had tried to get in the Bolo. Had he made it? The agonizing voice in his head suggested that he had.
“Do you wish me to turn on the lights?”
“Please,” he whispered, knowing the Bolo would hear him. Then thinking about it, “dim lights.”
A faint, red light bathed the area. He was in some sort of narrow machine space. A drive shaft as big around as his body punched through the compartment. Behind him was the closed hatch. Ahead was a tube with a sloping ladder that led up into darkness. “Where am I?”
“My number two ventral maintenance access. My internal sensors are fully intact, and indicate that you have a mild concussion. I do not believe that you will die.”
“Thanks for that happy bit of news.” He reached up to feel the large knot on top of his head, and winced. It least he didn’t seem to be bleeding much. He tried to move his arm under his body to push himself up into a sitting position. He had to get to his wife and children, to make sure they were all right.