Jring’s reverie, like Nrog’s, was interrupted by the entrance of the First Acolyte.
“What is the destination of the first round of human slaves from Quenrix, Princeps?” The Acolyte’s long, locust-shaped head towered a full six inches above Jring’s own insectoid skull. A fact Jring didn’t mind, not at all embarrassed by his own inferior height, as might others of his rank. He used his diminutive size as a spur to advance his other skills and rise above his competitors. Now he was the most powerful of the locusts. No one could deny him his rule or question his authority.
“They will go to Barboryle, the secret world, as planned, put in their tanks. The Mother locust will feed off the first ten thousand humans and thrive. Regard, Acolyte, a master plan, a millennium supply of non-stop feeding. The Queen Mother needs enough food to complete her incubation of the future hordes, that her children might fly to all corners of the galaxy and lay their own eggs.”
“What is the Zikri’s role in all this?” the Acolyte asked.
The Mentera uttered a staccato hiss and twitched his antennae in an attitude of indifference. “As slaves. They will serve us, or they will perish.”
The aide said with some discomfort, “But they will create war with us. Our allies will then become our enemies.”
“Your grasp of these affairs is deficient. Go now and keep me apprised of the invasion’s progress.”
The Acolyte pinched his locust lips into a penitent scowl. He bowed and took his leave of the Princeps’ presence.
Princeps Jring occupied himself with other matters of protocol, namely the sending of assurances to the Queen Mother that their mission would be soon underway. It was too late to investigate the offending ships Nrog had mentioned. Upon the successful completion of the invasion, the three careless captains would be punished for being out of sync with the others and making him look foolish in front of the Zikri.
Chapter 18
The untold thousands of alien ships came out of hyperdrive on auto-deploy. Mentera lightfighters speckled space as far as the eye could see. Lethal flagships and destroyers formed larger pods of light within the smaller swarms, and then the ugly Zikri Orbs materialized out of nowhere, spiked black like morningstars.
Yul blinked, hardly daring to believe he was still in the midst of this nightmare. At his side, Cloye glared, pointing a finger at the innumerable red dots on the holo screen. There were enough enemy ships to decimate an entire world. Her strident curse snapped him out of his daydream. It seemed so long ago that he had met her—in the cramped hold on the terraformer bound for Remus. The odds of her turning from enemy to ally had been so slim as to be nonexistent. She’d been ready to zap him and take his head back to Mathias. Mathias! Where was the bastard, the financial mogul of Cyber Corp? The same shyster who, to ensure his steadfast cooperation in The Dim Zone espionage, had inserted the painful nanoparticles in his blood stream that stabbed him with agony on a single press of a remote control.
The blue-grey disc of Quenrix hung below like some detached eyeball. Some 30k miles above the planet the alien armada poised in a slow orbit. Thousands of assault fighters ready to launch their terror on the innocent multitudes below.
No visible resistance came in view or on the holo radar within ten thousand miles. Why did this not surprise him? The world below was easy prey for these alien predators.
Miko’s voice rasped over the com, “They’re lambs to the slaughter, Yul! I’m calling NOA.”
“No, spaceboy—I’ll do it. They’ll never believe you.”
Fenli snorted a curse. “Pray that they don’t catch wind of our spying and meddling and kill us all.”
“We’re walking an impossible tightrope as it is,” Yul muttered.
Orders from Mentera command crackled through the ship’s com. Yul scowled. That could be nothing good. “Miko, translate.” Even engineer whiz Hresh hadn’t been able to get their universal translator working.
Miko parroted what Usk translated: “They tell us to move out. That all mantis craft are to act as advance guard. The Zikri Orbs are to remain behind to safeguard the sky. The next world on their list is a nearby planet on the fringe of the outer zone, a mere hop skip away.”
Yul bit his knuckles. “Not good.” Not even a moment to collect his wits and flesh out a plan. “We’re going to have to play along until we figure something out.”
Fenli griped, “How long are we going to play this stupid charade before we blast out of here?”
“Maybe until the bugs give us back control of our ships, dumbfuck?” snapped Cloye. “Look, they’ve hardwired our impulse to Quenrix. They’re taking no chances with screw-ups.”
Fenli swore. Yul stiffened in horror at the reality of Cloye’s assertion. The nose of their craft tilted slowly planetward along with the bee-swarm of brightly-colored dots in near space.
Miko gave a startled cry. “Our nav is up and running!”
“Wait, so’s mine,” said Fenli. “And my hyperdrive is suddenly active. Well I’ll be… What do you know?” He laughed. “See you suckers!”
A bright flash lit across the horizon as his ship entered the light highways and was gone.
“Lucky bastard,” grumbled Yul.
“The more we talk like this over open wire is a risk,” hissed Hresh.
“The invasion is unprecedented and insane,” Miko persisted. “We can’t
