Other warheads kept going off ahead of schedule, or tumbling to explode on the ground, filling the night with brilliant, fruitless incandescence. So great was the wastage that it looked as if the Jophur ship might actually limp away.
Then a late-rising rocket took off. It turned, and with apparent deliberation, drove itself straight through the groaning corvette.
A dazzling explosion ripped its belly open, cleaving the skyship apart. Blade had to spin a different part of his half-blinded visor around to witness the two halves plummet, like twin cups filled with fire, to the forest floor.
More dross to clean up, Blade observed, as fires spread across several mountainsides. But his body was content to live in the moment, shrieking celebration whistles from all his breathing vents, competing with the gaudy fireworks to shout at the stars.
With qheuen vision, he could witness the corvette’s destruction while also following as most of the missiles continued their flight — those that did not veer off course, or explode on their own. Dozens still thrust noisily into the upper sky, spouting red, flickering tails.
Blade screamed even louder when they finished their brief arc and turned back toward Jijo, plummeting like hail toward Festival Glade.
Lester Cambel
THE FOREST ERUPTED IN FLAME AROUND LESTER. Failed missiles crashed back amid the secret launching sites, setting off explosions of withering heat and igniting tall columns of boo. South, a searing glow told where the shattered spaceship fell. Still, Lester held fast to the clearing where he and a g’Kek assistant had come to watch the flickering sky.
An urrish corporal galloped to report. “Fires surround us. Sage, you must flee!”
But Lester stayed rooted, peering at the fuming heavens. His voice was choked and dry.
“I can’t see! Did any make it to burnout? Are they on their way?”
The young g’Kek answered, all four eyes waving upward.
“Many flew true, O sage,” she answered. “Several score are airborne. Your design was valid. Now there’s nothing more to do. It’s time to go.”
Reluctantly, Lester let himself be pulled away from the clearing, into the planned escape route through the boo.
Only they soon found the way blocked by fierce tongues of fire. Lester and his companions had to retreat, back past sheltered work camps whose blur-cloth canopies were ablaze, where vats of traeki paste exploded one after another … along with some of the traeki themselves. Other figures could be seen fleeing through the clots of smoke as all the labor of months, spent creating a hidden center of industry, was consumed in a roiling maelstrom.
“There is no way out,” the urs sighed.
“Then save yourself. I command it!”
Lester pushed her resisting flank, repeating the order until the corporal let out a moan and plunged toward a place where the flames seemed least intense. An urs just might survive the passage. Lester knew better than to try.
Alone with his young assistant, he huddled in the center of the clearing, holding one of her trembling wheels.
“It’s all right,” he told her, between hacking coughs. “We did what we set out to do.
“All things come to an end.
“Now it all lies with Ifni.”
Lark
THE EARLIER HOLOSCENES HAD BEEN CONFUSING, but these new images left Lark stunned, breathless, confused. He had no way to grasp the blazing spectacle … mighty tubes of boo, their bottoms explosing in flame … scores of them, jetting upward like a swarm of angry fire bees.
The distant camera veered as the corvette struggled to evade a volley of makeshift rockets. The view lurched so suddenly, Lark’s stomach reeled and he had to look away.
The others seemed just as amazed. Ling laughed aloud, clapping both hands, while Rann’s face mixed astonishment with dismay. Then what’s happening must be good. Lark allowed a spark of hope to rise within.
Ewasx, the Jophur, vented gurgling sounds, along with snatches of Galactic Two.
“Outrageous … treacherous … unexpected … unforeseen!”
Tremors shook its composite body, quivering from the peak down to its basal segment. Most of the elderly, waxy toroids were familiar to Lark. Once, they composed a friend, a sage, wise and good. But a newcomer had taken over — a glistening young collar, black and featureless, without appendages or sensory organs.
Both Ling and Rann cried out. But when Lark turned around, the holoscene was all white — a blank slate.
“The corvette,” Ling explained, her voice awed. “It’s been destroyed!”
A shrill sigh escaped the Jophur. The tremors turned into convulsions.
Ewasx is having some kind of fit, Lark thought. Should I attack now? Strike the master ring with all my might?
Ling was babbling excitedly about “the other rockets—” But Lark had decided, striding toward the shuddering Jophur. His sole weapons were his hands, but so what?
Lester, you pulled off a fantastic wolfling trick. Asx would have been proud of you.
Just as old Asx would have wanted me to do this.
He brought back a fist, aimed at the shivering master ring.
Someone seized his arm, holding it back in a fierce grip. Lark swiveled, cocking his other fist at Rann. But the bull-headed Danik only shook his head.
“What will it prove? You’d just make them angry, native boy. We remain trapped here, at their mercy.”
“Get out of my way,” Lark growled. “I’m gonna free my traeki friend.”
“Your friend is long gone. If you kill a master ring, the whole stack dissolves! I know this, young savage. I’ve put it in practice.”
Lark was angry enough to turn his attack on the burly Danik. Sensing it, Rann released Lark and stepped back, raising both hands in a combatant’s stance.
Yeah, Lark thought, dropping to a crouch. You’re a star-god soldier. But maybe a savage knows some tricks you don’t.
“Stop it, you two!” Ling shouted. “We’ve got to get ready—”
She cut off as a chain of low vibrations throbbed the metal floor — mighty forces at work, growling elsewhere in the vast ship.
“Defensive cannon,” Rann identified the din. “But what could they be firing—?”
“The rockets!” Ling replied. “I told you, they’re coming this way!”
Realization dawned on Rann, that sooners might actually threaten a starship. He cursed, diving for a corner of the cell.
Lark allowed Ling to lead him as the battleship shivered, its weapons firing frantically. A mutter of distant detonations crept closer as they held each other. The moment had a heady vividness, a hormonal rush, mixing the pleasure of Ling’s touch with sharp awareness of onrushing death.
Yet Lark found himself hoping, praying, that the next few moments would end his life.
Come on. You can do it, Lester. Finish the job!
The fragment of the Egg lay against his chest, where its last outburst had left seething weals. He clutched the stone amulet with his free hand, expecting throbbing heat. Instead, Lark felt an icy cold. A brittleness that breath would shatter.
