In the last weeks prior to the raid, only a handful of the teenagers continued their training and exercises. They formed themselves into an informal squad, consisting of the three former platoon leaders, as well as Jens Knudsen and a few others.
The first sign of trouble was a sudden flurry of hoots coming from the southernmost end of the valley. When Julius first heard the hooting, while he was writing in his notebook, he shrugged it off. He was curious, for the owoc rarely hooted loudly, but he was not alarmed.
As the hoots continued, and seemed to grow nearer, he went to investigate. Still curious rather than concerned, he walked out of the hut carrying his notebook.
Seconds later he had dropped the notebook and was racing for the stand of spears next to the long houses. He still didn’t know what was wrong, but he had no doubt that foul play was afoot.
An owoc stampede has a certain comical air to it, given their slow speed, but Julius was not in the slightest amused. He had never seen owoc stampede before, and at least one of the beings was bleeding from a large wound in its mantle.
Whether driven by fear, instinct, or a conscious understanding that the humans were protection, the owoc had done exactly the right thing. They ran (shuffled, it might be better to say) directly into the center of the human village. Thereby drawing their pursuers into what became an impromptu trap.
Julius spotted the first invader just before he reached the spears.
His first thought was: Tentacles.
Then, almost simultaneously: Weapons. Armor. Intelligent.
When he reached the stack of spears, Julius was so frantic that he knocked them over. Then, in his haste to pick up a spear, he tripped and fell flat on his face.
He observed the ensuing events from his belly.
Joseph was the first to grab a spear from the pile on the ground. The boy sprang into the center of the village. He was facing the invaders from a distance of five meters.
Did I call it right, or what? thought Julius. The thing’s the spitting image of an owoc, except that it’s smaller and has tentacles. And that lean and hungry look. The peds are less massive, too. Must be faster—but why isn’t it moving?
Later, he realized that the creature must have been frozen with shock. It had never seen a human before, and humans looked like nothing else on Ishtar.
They moved like nothing else, too. Julius was amazed at the speed and ferocity of Joseph’s attack. He was even more amazed that the boy never hesitated.
The spear sank two feet into the invader’s head, right between the eyes. The creature dropped to the ground, instantly slain.
Three more invaders charged into the village. Joseph wrenched the spear loose from his first victim’s head and immediately cast it at one of the new arrivals. The spear sailed through the air and struck perfectly.
By now, Ludmilla and Jens had arrived. They snatched up spears and took their position next to Joseph’s side. Ludmilla handed him a new spear.
The three teenagers stood poised, facing the two remaining invaders from a distance of ten meters. Loud and rapid noises came from the invaders’ speaking tubes. A moment later, seven more of the creatures surged into the center of the village.
Belatedly, Julius scrambled to his feet.
“Bring us more spears!” shouted Joseph.
Julius bent over and grabbed a half a dozen in his hands.
“Throw!” commanded Joseph. The three teenagers hurled their spears. Joseph and Ludmilla hit squarely, killing their targets. Jens’ spear struck the cowl of his target.
In frustration, Jens raced forward and reached out for the spear sticking out from the cowl.
The monsters finally reacted. The one toward which Jens was running whipped its right tentacle around, wielding a weapon that looked something like a morning star: a wooden shaft about a meter long, from the end of which protruded eight spikes, each one about 20 centimeters long and tipped with some kind of sharp stone.
One of the spikes pierced completely through Jens’ right calf. The boy cried out in pain and dropped to one knee. A moment later, another of the invaders lashed him with a peculiar weapon that looked something like a cat-o’-nine-tails. Jens threw up his left arm to ward off the blow. The weapon tore great pieces of flesh from his arm and shoulder. Anyone less massively built than Jens Knudsen would have been crippled. As it was, blood gushed all over the left side of the boy’s body.