So, when Tepho guided his raptor into town, closely followed by six metal men and a contingent of twenty-fi?ve heavily armed humans, the locals were torn between fear and greed. But there was scant opportunity for skullduggery as the strangers took control of the only inn, displaced the previous guests, and established a defensive perimeter through which none of the locals were permitted to pass. Meanwhile, as if drawn to Wattl by a conjunction of planetary infl?uences, other forces were in motion as well. Because even as the red-orange sun descended toward the gently rolling sea, a water-slicked head surfaced out in the harbor, and a cross-shaped wing circled high above. Each served a different master, and, while neither was aware of the other, they soon would be.
Except for one massive deluge, the weather had been mild up to that point, which was fortunate indeed. But each dawn was accompanied by the need to gather both food and water. Which was why Rebo began each day by stripping off his ragged clothes, strapping a sheath knife to his right calf, and carrying the homemade spear down to the edge of the water. It felt cold at fi?rst, too cold, but a combination of thirst and hunger urged him on. Based on a process of trial and error, the off-worlder knew that while the pancakeshaped “fl?oppers” were relatively easy to spear, they were bony and didn’t taste very good. That was why the runner typically went looking for what he thought of as “zip fi?sh”
because of their ability to dart from place to place and the black streaks that ran the length of their silvery bodies. They made for good eating, but they were hard to hit, and it took at least two of them to make a decent meal. On that particular morning, the runner was fortunate, and managed to nail three of the speedy animals in a span of fi?fteen minutes. Having strung the fi?sh together on a piece of cord, Rebo swam out to what he thought of as “the well,”
where, in order to meet nutritional requirements of its own, one species of seaweed produced fi?st-sized bladders fi?lled with desalinated seawater. Then, having harvested six containers of water, it was the runner’s habit to put his face down and swim straight in. Once ashore the fi?sh would be roasted over the fi?re, while Norr attempted to squeeze one more mug of tea from an already exhausted bag, and Rebo watched from a few feet away. And later, once breakfast was over, it would be time to resume work on their partially built raft.
But that morning was to be different, as quickly became apparent when the runner brought his head up and put his feet down. Because, as Rebo stood, he saw that Norr’s hands were bound in front of her, and three heavily armed phibs were waiting for him on the beach. The runner knew that the amphibians, like sensitives, heavies, and wings, were the result of genetic tinkering carried out thousands of years before. In this case the goal had been to create a strain of humanoids equipped to more fully exploit the water worlds that the ancients had colonized, thereby lowering the costs associated with construction, mining, and aquaculture.
Later, once that goal had been accomplished, some phibs had migrated to worlds like Zeen, where they not only took up residence in the oceans, rivers, and lakes, but where they frequently displaced thousands of norms who made their livings on or near the water.
The phibs had sleek, hairless skulls and double-lidded eyes that helped them see underwater. They also had respiratory systems that could extract oxygen from water, as well as streamlined bodies, and webbing that bridged both fi?ngers and toes. The phibs also had shapely breasts, or at least one of them did, which identifi?ed her as female. Sogol, who had apparently been mistaken for a piece of expensive jewelry, was wrapped around the woman’s left biceps. The amphibians wore what amounted to G-strings and watched impassively as the nude male made his way up out of the water. “I’m sorry,” Norr said miserably. “I was asleep.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” the runner replied stoically.
“Drop the spear,” one of the males said, as he pointed the 9mm pistol at its previous owner. Like members of many local populations, the phib spoke with what the runner regarded as a thick accent although he knew the man with the gun would perceive the situation differently. There was nothing Rebo could do but drop the fi?sh, the water pods, and the spear.
“Now the knife,” the female added sternly. The runner, who had begun to wish that he’d gone swimming with his clothes on, bent to remove the knife from its sheath.
“This is a waste of time,” the second male said irritably.
“They’re pirates. . . . Shoot them and be done with it.”
“That’s what the norms would do to us!” the female added emphatically.
Norr could see the dark, threatening thought forms that swirled around the other variants and felt frightened as a result. But the fi?rst male, the one who seemed to be in charge, refused to acquiesce. “We’re supposed to be better than they are . . . remember? Not to mention the fact that the spooks will want to interrogate this pair. So shut the hell up, grab their belongings, and destroy the lean-to. It could attract even more pirate trash. . . .”
Rebo was tempted to engage the fi?rst male in conversation, in the hope that he could convince the local that they weren’t pirates, but he decided to let the opportunity pass when Norr gave a subtle shake of her head. The runner knew the sensitive could see things that he couldn’t—and had reason to trust her judgments.
Fifteen minutes later the phibs and their prisoners were seated in a miniature version of the larger trains that blasted through the tunnel twice each day. Rebo had been allowed to pull on some pants by that time, but was otherwise unclothed, as both he and Norr were strapped into their seats. Though still a little bit sore, the variant’s wound was mostly healed, which meant she could move without pain. When the minitrain took off, it departed with near-necksnapping acceleration, and was soon traveling so fast the tunnel’s walls were little more than a gray blur. The offworlders were on their way—But to where?
The attack on the village of Wattl came in the early hours of the morning when most of the citizens were still asleep. There were watchmen of course, posted on the ancient breakwater to warn their fellow villagers should the phibs launch an assault on the sleeping town, but two had been drinking and passed out. The third saw dozens of waterslicked heads break the surface of the water, and was about to ring the warning bell, when a beam of coherent energy drilled a hole through his chest. A smoke ring rose from the circular wound as he fell, and the fi?rst wave of heavily armed variants marched up the stony beach. Having lost three fi?shing boats and seven people to the shore-based pirates over the last thirty days, the local amphibians were extremely angry. That’s why all of the cutters that were drawn up on the beach were holed, nets were piled up to be burned, and even the wharf dogs were shot down. But, unbeknownst to the phibs, they were attacking the Techno Society as well. And even though Wattl’s watchmen failed to deliver a timely warning, a sharp-eyed robot had detected the presence of multiple heat sources before the phibs surfaced, and radioed a warning to Shaz.
Once alerted, Tepho rolled out of bed and was already shouting orders as sleepy attendants hurried to dress him. Then, having made his way downstairs, the technologist rushed to climb into his raptor. Shaz and Phan were already present, along with a dozen heavily armed mercenaries. They followed the bipedal machine as servos whirred, weapons swiveled, and death stalked the streets. Some of the villagers were up by then, fi?ring projectile weapons at the oncoming horde or running for their lives as their fellow citizens were cut down by blue death. Formerly solid walls exploded, wood houses burst into fl?ame, and angens screamed as they tried to escape from their pens. But then, just when it appeared that the phibs would destroy the entire village, Tepho guided the raptor around a corner and opened fi?re. In spite of the fact that the raiders possessed energy weapons, too, surprise combined with superior fi?repower made it possible to cut the variants down. Tepho, who was secure within the comfort of his armored cockpit, laughed out loud as blips of blue light raced the length of the waterfront to snatch phibs off their feet. Others came apart so that heads, arms, and legs pinwheeled through the air. But most of the invaders were simply incinerated as bolts of blue energy wiped them away, leaving little more than black streaks to mark the places they had stood. The raptor took hits, half a dozen of them, but the shoulder-fi?red weapons didn’t pack enough of a wallop to hole the machine, so the surviving variants had no choice but to retreat into the harbor, where the water would protect them from further harm. Tepho continued to fi?re as the amphibians pulled back, but Shaz ordered his mercenaries to conserve their ammo and was the fi?rst to take notice of the fact that some additional combatants had arrived on the scene. The combat variant saw the wings sweep in from the south, circle above, and fi?re down at the phibs. Then, just as Shaz was about to warn Tepho, what looked like a yellow comet arced high above the village and exploded at the center of the harbor. There was a boom, as a huge geyser of water shot up into the air and hung there for what seemed like a minute but was actually little more than a second or two. The column of water was translucent, which meant that Shaz could see the phib bodies suspended within the spout, along with what might have been large sea creatures and the remains of fractured boats. Then, as the geyser started to collapse, the combat variant realized what would happen next. He yelled, “Run!”