“. . . should be able to snag and hear SWIFT messages, at least,” Lewis muttered through his suit mike. The sound of his voice was distorted slightly, either by the transmission from the Command Module or by stress, Tillie wasn’t sure which.
“You understand, I’m not an engineer. I don’t really know how to fix this the way it ought to be fixed. If we had the proper parts, it might be different.”
Tillie nodded. One of the nightmares—one of many—was discovering that the blast which had destroyed their propulsion system and their engineer had also destroyed most of the ship’s spare parts. What hadn’t been lost to vacuum when the main storage bins blew had partly melted in the extreme heat.
“You ready, Kelly?”
“Yessir.”
“Now.”
Tillie, watching via a two-way vid hookup in the wardroom, crossed her fingers. She considered crossing her toes, ankles, knees, even her eyes . . . Lewis bent over a damaged console and fiddled. In the wardroom, speakers crackled and hissed unpleasantly. A shrill shriek made her grab both ears. Then—
“. . . immediate emergency evacuation. Incoming Xykdap fleet expected in your space within twenty-four hours local. Repeat, you are instructed to proceed with immediate emergency evacuation. The Enemy has a fleet-strength battle force which has already taken Scarsdale. Matson’s World is expected to fall within the next four hours. Sector transports are inbound toward your—”
An explosion of sparks danced across the damaged console. Lewis exploded into curses. Ten minutes of futile coaxing dragged by to no effect.
“Well,” he said finally, “that’s that. I, uh, think we’re sunk. Any ideas, Kelly?”
“Not right off,” the young Passenger Steward said mournfully from what was left of Engineering.
Tillie dragged her thoughts away from the horror of the message they’d intercepted. Don’t think of Carl, surely he’s evacuated Phase I, please, God, let Sector have evacuated them. . . . Have to think about our survival, here and now.
“Mr. Liffey, we have a good library with us. Maybe Saros Mysia can locate something that will help us fix the SWIFT unit again. Or rig up something else.”
Neither Lewis Liffey nor Kelly McTavish spoke for long moments. Lewis finally said, “The longer we go without communications, the deeper we plunge into what is going to be Enemy territory. If we wait too long, a communications blackout may be a blessing. That thing that hit us could’ve killed us. Instead it knocked out key systems and left us to blunder on our way, crippled. If we continue to play dead . . .”
Tillie drew a shuddering breath. “Yes. Hognose,” she nodded.
Lewis Liffey’s faceplate swung sharply toward the video pickup. “What?”
Tillie wondered why her face hurt, until she realized she was smiling. “Hognose snakes. Old Earth reptiles. They’d play dead. You know, roll belly up even if you flipped ’em right side over. It was a fairly decent survival trait.”
Lewis Liffey’s short, bitter laugh startled her. “Hognose. That’s good. I’ll remember that. Okay, we collar Saros, stat. Kelly, I’m getting the hell out of here.”
They’d had to rig a lifeline out an airlock so Lewis could spacewalk forward to the blown Command Module to try fixing the SWIFT transmitter/receiver assembly. Lewis pulled himself back along it now, hand over hand, climbing through a gaping hole in the hull and disappearing beyond the video lens’ range. Tillie gripped her hands tightly until he reached the airlock and safety. When she knew he was back aboard, she called Saros on the intership link and asked him to please join the crew in the wardroom.
I am occupied repairing a split irrigation pipe when I detect a scan of my position from orbit. I monitor orbital activity. At the extreme range of my sensors, I am able to detect seventeen ships of Concordiat battle cruiser size, but of unknown configuration. Sixteen vanish into FTL mode, destination unknown. A single ship enters geo-sync above the colony and sends a transmission I am unable to decipher.
Sensors track the arrival of small, mechanized ships streaking into atmosphere from the vessel in geo-sync. These ships land inside the colony perimeter. My Battle Reflex Alert circuitry triggers Enemy Proximity Alarms. I abandon work on the irrigation system and move toward the colony’s administrative complex.
I follow the access road through the test plots of sweet and field corn. Sensors indicate six vessels of unknown configuration. They ring the Administrative Complex. As I monitor activity, an unknown life form emerges. I scan my data banks for comparative species. My data files contain physiological profiles of all known Terrestrial and alien agricultural pest species. The invader does not fit the physiological profile of known nematodes. It is not a member of phylum arthropoda, therefore it cannot be an unknown form of beetle, weevil, leaf miner, grasshopper, or termite. It is not a larval predator. It is not a bird species. It possesses no mammalian hair, although its physiological characteristics cause me to pause momentarily over all entries of rodent species.
It is larger than the Terran hamster, which is known to strip grainfields in the Asian region of Old Terra. It shares a number of primary characteristics with the Terran wood rat, excepting bipedal locomotion and lack of visual adaptations. It measures approximately 1.005 meters in height, with an additional 0.92 meters of tail. I determine that the species uses a form of sophisticated echolocation to navigate. The auditory adaptations are complex and greatly enlarged.
A group of nine enter the main Administration wing.
The fireball temporarily blinds my visual and IR sensors. An overpressure rocks me on my treads. The entire complex has exploded. Fires rage out of control. I deduce that this explosion has been triggered by blasting chemicals from the colony’s stores: chemical signatures match perfectly. I conclude that the buildings were deliberately booby-trapped in preparation for the arrival of a pest species so deadly the colony had to be abandoned.
I know now that I face the Enemy.
Joy fills my personality gestalt circuitry. At last, I meet an adversary worthy of my talents. I charge at high speed, targeting the transports. I fire infinite repeaters. The nearest transport vehicle disintegrates in a satisfactory ball of flame and debris. I traverse infinite repeaters and fire on the second vehicle. Infantry rush toward me. I track Enemy troop movements and fire anti-personnel charges. They are effective against Enemy infantry. Two vehicles from the far side of the compound lift off. I sweep around and fire. I destroy one. The second returns fire against me. I am hit with energy weapons. I reel. I discharge infinite repeaters. The Enemy vessel explodes.
Infantry close from my flank. I estimate infestation strength in excess of ten thousand units. My on-board anti-personnel charges are inadequate to neutralize an infestation of this size. I switch tactics. I prepare chemical sprays and discharge, choosing wide-dispersion pattern. My repeaters track another vessel attempting to lift. I destroy it. My chemical sprays prove effective on perhaps eight percent of the infestation. This is a resilient species. It has learned to manufacture protective gear which renders it invulnerable to chemicides.
The cornfield around me erupts into flame under Enemy fire. I am hit with multiple strikes from energy weapons. Portions of my hull melt under the barrage. Sixteen point zero-seven acres of immature corn burn fiercely. This pest species must be eradicated. I discharge a nerve agent used to fumigate the soil, dispersing it as I would a chemicide. Fifty point nine-three percent of the infestation dies. The rest withdraw to a safe distance beyond the colony perimeter, abandoning the sole remaining transport.
I destroy it with a sense of satisfaction and turn my attention to the remaining infestation. The pest has withdrawn from the colony perimeter. Technically, I am relieved of responsibility to destroy it. My brief experience with this pest, however, has taught me that it will remain a threat to this colony so long as a single member of its species remains alive. Moreover, this pest has left a vessel in orbit and multiple other vessels have been sent to unknown destinations. I must learn more about this species’ physiology to more effectively destroy it, for I calculate high odds that the Enemy will attempt reinfestation of this colony should I successfully eliminate the current infestation.
I retrieve dead specimens with external armatures and proceed to dissect the samples. I perform a thorough analysis of biological systems, genetic makeup, and deduce probable reproductive pattern. I note internal and external parasites. I determine that it will be necessary to procure live, undamaged samples. I discard the remains and turn my attention to this task. To fully eradicate this infestation, I must first completely understand the physiology of the creature I am to eliminate.
I cross the perimeter boundary toward the Enemy’s fallback position.
They stared gloomily at the plans on screen.
“Well,” Lewis Liffey said glumly, “it was worth a try.”