There was no way to know.
As Santana exited the UV with AWOL bag in hand, a brace of smartly uniformed Seebos crashed to attention. Once inside the building, Santana was required to check in at the duty desk, where a spit-and-polish NCO located the visitor’s name on his screen, and summoned a young Seebo who might have been better employed at the front. Having received his orders, the soldier preceded Santana up a stairwell. The Ramanthians had nailed sheets of plywood over the stairs to make ramps, but most of it had been torn off by then, allowing both men to proceed unimpeded. The door to conference room 302 was open, and when Santana looked in, he saw that Colonel Quinlan, General Kobbi, and a Jonathan Alan Seebo were waiting for him. General Kobbi was the fi?rst to come over and shake hands. “You look like hell,” Kobbi said cheerfully. “And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”
“Thank you, sir,” Santana replied. “Fortunately, I feel better than I look.”
“And smell,” Quinlan said disapprovingly, as he came over to shake hands. “I believe you know Major Seebo- 1,324?”
As it happened the legionnaire did know three-twentyfour. Both men had been stationed on LaNor during the Claw Rebellion, although Santana had been a lieutenant, and the clone a captain. “Of course!” Santana said enthusiastically. “It’s good to see you, sir.”
“And you,” the major replied sincerely. “Although I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.”
“I think we can promise you a hot shower and a drink at the O club later on,” Kobbi said, “but lunch is on the way. In the meantime I want you to meet someone else.”
So saying, Kobbi pointed a remote at a big wall screen, and touched a button. Video swirled, then locked up. The picture that appeared was that of a Jonathan Alan Seebo. Who, based on the name printed at the bottom of the frame, had been given the number: 62,666. “He’s a handsome devil,” Three-twenty-four put in. “You have to give him that!”
Kobbi laughed along with the others, but the general’s eyes were serious as he turned toward Santana. “Good looks aside, the man you’re looking at led a company of Seebos up to an allied fi?rebase, where he and his men not only murdered twentythree marines, but took hostages, and stole two tons’ worth of supplies. Prior to that, eyewitnesses claim that Colonel Six, as his subordinates refer to him, knowingly slaughtered civilians during guerilla-style attacks on enemy forces.”
“And that’s why you’re here,” Three-twenty-four added soberly. “Based on your combat record General Kobbi and I believe you’re the right man to track Six down and bring him in.”
“Or kill him,” Quinlan said offhandedly. “Which, all things considered, might be the better course of action. It looks like the food arrived. Let’s have lunch.”
11
Be careful what you wish for—you might just get it.
PLANET EARTH, THE CONFEDERACY OF SENTIENT BEINGS
The humans called it Death Valley. Which the Ramanthians found amusing since they thought the long, low, mostly barren depression was rather pleasant—not to mention the fact that it was safe from ground attack. Because there was nowhere for humans to hide. Which was why the invaders had chosen to establish a temporary base in the area called Stovepipe Wells, a mostly fl?at area that was home to the Third Infantry Division. The division consisted of more than ten thousand combat troops, two thousand support personnel, and more than one thousand aircraft. It was one of twenty such bases that the Royal Expeditionary Force had been able to establish on the planet. All of which made the Queen feel good as her shuttle swept in over a makeshift parade ground and hundreds of perfectly aligned habs to land a few hundred feet north of the infl?atable headquarters structure erected the day before.
The landings generated a miniature sandstorm that was still swirling when a hatch whirred open, and the Queen shuffl?ed down a ramp and onto the surface of the planet where the human race had evolved. It was pleasantly warm, which was to say 110 degrees in the shade, and the Queen’s ceremo- nial body armor glittered as she paused to look around. Members of the prestigious Imperial Guard lined both sides of the carpeted walkway that led to the headquarters structure. Behind them, still other soldiers supported T-shaped poles from which rectangular fl?ags hung. One for each of the swarms that had been combined to form a single society hundreds of years earlier.
It was a historic moment, which having been captured by the usual bevy of fl?ying cameras, would be beamed to planets throughout the empire so bedazzled citizens could see their warrior queen symbolically taking possession of Earth. The air was thick with the smell of wing wax, chitin polish, and mood-altering pheromones as the Queen nodded to a group of offi?cials, who had been waiting for the better part of an hour, and preceded them into the headquarters structure.
All of which was quite impressive but not enough to quell the misgivings that Chancellor Ubatha felt. Especially when he was well outside the infl?uence of the psychoactive chemicals that perpetually surrounded the royal and impelled even her most ardent critics to do her bidding. Because even though the human fl?eet had been destroyed, and the planet’s orbital defenses had been breached, the battle for Earth was far from over. The civilian population had proven to be a good deal more combative than anticipated, and that made it diffi?cult to settle in.
In fact, rather than simply allow themselves to be slaughtered, as many high-ranking offi?cials originally believed they would, the animals continued to fi?ght back! And rather effectively, too. . . . Which was one of the reasons why the invaders were camped in such a remote location. Because every time they attempted to occupy a city, the soldiers came under fi?re from the surviving elements of various military organizations, newly formed guerrilla groups, and heavily armed criminals. All of which meant that the Queen’s plan to occupy Earth without destroying it was still in question.
It wasn’t too late, however. Victory of a sort was still within reach if only the Queen and her advisors would listen to Ubatha’s ideas. So as the royal disappeared from sight, and her staff passed between the rows of Imperial Guards, the Chancellor knew a different but no less important sort of battle was about to begin.
The Queen was waiting by the time her staff entered the room prepared for her use. It was square. There was a platform to one side where the monarch was seated on a saddle chair and backed by two bodyguards, a security
