continued, more faintly, coming from the intercom speakers on the control deck below. 'This is impossible,' Polphir murmured. He sounded more bewildered than frightened. 'How could the Valahgua be here? How could those ships have the Death?'
'I don't know,' Draycos said. 'It doesn't look like we'll have the chance to find out, either.'
'No, I suppose not,' Polphir said, his voice almost peaceful. A Shontin unafraid to die, and for a brief moment Draycos envied him that calm.
The Havenseeker was still pitching away from its attacker. But the enemy was wise to its tricks now. The violet beam remained steady, continuing its slow sweep forward. In his mind's eye, Draycos could see his companions' bodies slumped in their seats or lying crumpled on the deck as the beam snuffed out their lives and then moved on. The Shontine bodies would linger for awhile; those of the K'da, he knew, would already be turning two-dimensional and rippling away into nothingness. A K'da death left no body for his friends to mourn.
The beam was nearly to the control complex now, and Draycos could feel a slight and unpleasant electric tingle along the scales on that side. 'Here it comes,' he said. Oddly enough, his voice sounded almost as calm and peaceful as Polphir's had, even though he was far from feeling that way. 'It's been an honor to be associated with you, Polphir—'
'Wait a moment,' Polphir cut him off, leaning forward and pointing toward their attacker. 'It sputtered just then—there. Did you see it?'
'Yes,' Draycos said, frowning. The yellow source-glow was indeed flickering; and now so was the violet Death beam itself. Had the near-misses by the Havenseeker's missiles done some damage after all?
And then, with one final flicker, both the yellow and violet lights went out.
'They've shut it off,' Draycos breathed, blinking in bewilderment. Was this some kind of cruel trick? One last gasp of false hope for the few survivors here at the Havenseeker's bow before their unknown enemy turned the Death on them again?
But the weapon remained off. Draycos watched, afraid to believe it, as the fighter began to pull up and away. 'What are they playing at?' he wondered aloud. 'Do they think they got all of us?'
'I would say they're just saving themselves a little trouble,' Polphir said grimly. 'Take a look. That last maneuver put us into the atmosphere.'
Draycos hissed around his tongue. Polphir was right; the thin white condensation trails were smoking off the tips of the antennas rising from the hull.
Commander Chayd seemed to have become aware of their danger at the same time. 'Full lateral power,' he ordered sharply.
'Not responding,' the pilot called back. 'Control lines are out.'
'Drosh, Mintuk—get to the engine room,' Chayd snapped. 'You'll need to operate the drive manually.'
'Do you want us to go, too?' Polphir called, starting to unstrap.
'No, you two stay there,' Chayd said. 'Landing sensors are also out. We'll need you to guide us in visually.'
Polphir glanced over his shoulder, his eyes briefly meeting Draycos's. Draycos could guess his thought: that such a feat would be nearly impossible to carry out.
But there was nothing for it but to do their best. 'Yes, sir,' Polphir said, resealing his restraints.
'Everyone to your stations,' Chayd said. There was little hope, Draycos knew, and he had no doubt that Chayd knew it too. But the commander was a Shontine warrior, and he would never simply give up without a struggle. Not while any of his crew remained alive. 'Prepare yourselves,' Chayd added. 'One way or another, we're going down.'
Chapter 2
'Jack? Come on, lad, rise and shine.'
'Yeah, yeah,' Jack Morgan muttered, turning over in his narrow bed and pulling the covers more tightly around his thin shoulders. It felt early, and he didn't feel much like getting up.
Not much point to getting up, anyway. There was nothing to do here, not unless he wanted to sit around outside the Essenay and pull apart pieces of the grass outside, the stuff that reminded him of bluish-green curly fries. He'd spent part of yesterday doing that, and the thrill of it had faded mighty fast.
'Come on, lad, rise and shine,' his uncle's voice came again. This time, the cabin's lights came on, too.
Jack pulled the covers up partway over his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the light and trying hard to hold onto the quick temper that had gotten him into trouble so many times on so many different worlds. Uncle Virgil had been on his case forever about that temper.
But then, Uncle Virgil had also been on his case about his lack of respect for authority, too. Which was kind of funny, considering Uncle Virgil's chosen profession.
'Come on, lad, rise and shine,' Uncle Virge said again.
It was insulting, too, on top of everything else. Rise and shine was how you woke up a five-year-old, not someone who'd turned fourteen a full month ago. On some worlds out there you could be a soldier at age fourteen, for Petey's sake. He would bet long odds that soldiers didn't get rise and shine as their wake-up call.
'Come on, lad, rise and shine.'
'Why should I?' Jack growled, trying to burrow deeper beneath his covers. 'What, the cows need milking? I'm going to be late for school? What?'
'There's something outside you need to see,' Uncle Virge said. 'Come on, lad, rise—'
'Okay, okay, I'm up, I'm up,' Jack snapped the magic words, throwing off the covers and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he sat up. The sudden change in altitude made his head go woozy, and he sat there rubbing his eyes until the feeling passed. 'You want to maybe turn the lights down a little?'
