ripped into the snowscape.
It wasn't close, but they all flinched.
'What was that?'
'Meteor?'
'Don't know—'
'Damn,' said Hutch.
Carson took a deep breath. 'Angela, how long do you think this will last?'
'Hard to tell. The worst of it should end within a day or two. It's still moving pretty quickly. And it's not tracking Delta's orbit, so we should come out of it fairly soon.' They could hear her breathing in the dark. 'I think this place is going to have even lousier weather than usual for a while though.'
'I'm scared,' said Hutch.
So was Carson. But he knew it would be improper to concede the point. Someone needed to show strength. 'We'll be okay,' he told her. He wished they could get pictures from the ground cameras. What was happening at the site?
The dragon's head dissolved. Billows and fountains expanded, collapsed, and blew apart. They rubbed together like great cats. Chunks of rock and ice, apparently buried within the thick atmosphere, were expelled.
On Delta, methane seas exploded into nearby low-lying areas. Tornado-force winds, generated by sudden changes in pressure, roared around the globe. Everywhere, it was midnight.
Rock and ice fell out of the sky. Their fiery trails illuminated the general chaos. Most were small, too small to penetrate even the relatively thin atmosphere. Others plowed into ice fields, and blasted swamps and seas.
Volcanoes erupted.
Out on their plain, Hutch, Angela, and Frank crouched in the shuttle and waited. Waited for the world- cracking collision that would come when the core of the dragon struck ground. As it must. As Angela, despite her assurances to the contrary, sincerely believed it must.
But it never happened.
The winds hammered at them, and the plain trembled, and black rain and ice and thick ashes poured down.
The night rumbled and flared.
Gradually, they became persuaded that the worst was over, that the hurricane-force winds were diminishing. They would survive; they needed only ride out the storm. And they grew talkative. An atmosphere that might best be described as nervous festive set in. Things banged and exploded and crunched in the night. But they were still there. And they silently congratulated themselves on their good luck. At one point, their rising spirits were helped along when they thought they heard Janet's voice in the ocean of static pouring out of the receivers.
Navigation lights were mounted low on both sides of the cowling, behind the cockpit on the fuselage, and beneath the wings. Periodically, Angela blew the snow and soot off the windscreen and turned them on. Mounds were building high around them.
'I'll make you a bet, Frank,' said Hutch.
'Which is—?'
'When we start reading the history of the Monument-Makers, we're going to discover that a lot of them cleared out.'
'How do you mean?'
'Left the Galaxy. Probably went to one of the Magellanic Clouds. Somewhere where they don't have these things.'
'Maybe. I think they entertained themselves bringing them down on the heads of whatever primitives they could find. I don't think the Monument-Makers were very decent critters.'
'I think you've got it wrong,' she said.
'In what way?'
She took Carson's wrist. 'Oz was a decoy,' she said.
He leaned closer to her. 'Say again.'
'Frank, they were all decoys. The cube moons. The Oz-creation at Beta Pac. They were supposed to draw these things off.'
'Well, if they were,' he said, 'they apparently didn't work.'
'No. I guess they did the best they could. But you're right. They didn't work. In the end, the Monument- Makers couldn't even save themselves.'
He sat down on the deck behind her seat. 'You think they got hit by one of these things?'
'I think they got hit twice. The interstellar civilization probably got nailed. They collapsed. Maybe they ran. I don't know. Maybe they got out and made for the Lesser Magellanic. Ran from these things because they couldn't divert them, and couldn't stop them.'
'What about the space station?' he asked. 'What do you think happened there?'
'— Survivors. Somebody rebuilt. But they didn't get as far the second time. They didn't go interstellar. Maybe it was a different type of civilization. Maybe they lost too much. They were just at the beginning of their space age when the wave came again.' She was glad now for the dark. 'Frank, think what their technology must have been at its height. And how much advance warning they had. Maybe thousands of years. They knew these things were out there, and they tried to help where they could. But you're right: they didn't succeed.'
'The goop is getting a little high,' said Angela. 'I think it would be a good idea to shift locations. We don't want to get buried.'
'Do it,' said Carson.
She took them up. Their navigation lights, freed, spilled out over the black snow. The wind rocked the vessel, swept it clean.
Lightning lanced through the night. They timed the distant rumble, guessed at the effect of local air pressure. It was about twelve kilometers away. Cautiously, she set back down.
They passed coffee around. 'It figures,' said Carson. 'We knew all along that the natives lived through these. Except, I guess, the urban populations.' He looked hard at Hutch. 'I think you're right. About Oz. When did you figure it out?'
'A few hours ago. I kept thinking how much Oz looked like a city. Who were they trying to fool?' She kissed Carson lightly on the cheek. 'I wonder if they understood what these things really are? Where they come from?'
'I wonder,' Angela said, 'if this is the way organized religion got started.' They all laughed.
More lightning. Closer.
'Maybe we should start paying attention to the storm,' said Hutch.
Angela nodded. 'It does seem to be walking this way, doesn't it?'
Another bolt glided to ground, illuminating the cockpit.
'I think it's seen us,' Hutch said.
'Hey.' Angela caught her shoulder. 'Don't let your imagination get overloaded.'
'It's only lightning out there,' whispered Carson.
Angela, as a precaution, powered up.
'What kind of sensor range do we have?' asked Hutch.
'Zip. If we have to go, we'll be flying blind.'
A long, liquid bolt flowed between land and sky. Hills and plain stood out in quick relief, and vanished. Thunder rolled across them. 'It is coming this way,' whispered Angela.
'I don't think we want to go up in this wind if we can avoid it,' said Carson. He was about to add something, when another fireball appeared. It sliced across the sky. They watched it move through the dark, right to left, watched it stop and begin to brighten.
'Son of a bitch,' squealed Angela. 'It's turning toward us.' Simultaneously, she pulled back the yoke, and the shuttle bucked into the air. The wind howled. The thing in the night burned, a blue-white star churning to nova.
'Button up,' called Hutch, sliding into her harness and igniting the energy field. Carson scrambled for a handhold.
Hutch locked Angela down in her web seat, and sealed off cargo, where Carson was seated. Then she
