The vertebrates, to their credit, fought savagely. The nife noted with detached interest that the ones protecting their offspring tended to fight with greater energy. Certain relationships soon became evident. A lone vertebrate or a pair of them stood no chance against a killbeast, but working as a pack, three or four of them could usually win if they fought together. The most common approach was to hack and shoot at the armored knees, then knock them back with repeated blows from makeshift clubs fashioned from table legs and the like. Once down and unable to leap back up, the vertebrates would swarm forward, fighting past the deadly sweeping foot-blades. They would then tear, cut or shoot away the optical sensory fronds, rendering the killbeast blind and crippled. More often, however, the killbeasts were simply too fast, too strong and too vicious. Ignoring injury, they fought with amazing skill, speed and daring. Pistol shots boomed, blood splashed the floors as bellies and throats were ripped out. Dark ichor spilled from wounded killbeasts to join the growing slicks on the carpeting.
After several minutes of wild melee, the battle moved toward its inevitable conclusion. All vertebrates that had any fight in them were soon exterminated by the bounding horde of killbeasts. Here and there a culus soared over the tangle of struggling forms. Several shrades worked the crowd in the wake of the killbeasts, riding about on panicked vertebrates. Umulks, disinterested in the battle, nosed about amongst the corpses near enough to their burrows to reach without excessive effort. They sought and ate the youngest and the fattest vertebrates, chewing methodically.
Soon, the fight was beaten out of the enemy. They crouched down in a quaking, lowing mass and awaited death. Once they were subdued the killbeasts had to be urged back from them, so that enough would be alive to provide the livestock that the Parent desired. The nife ran about the hall, commanding individual killbeasts to halt the slaughter. So caught up were they in their bloodlust, their genetic purpose and greatest desire being sated, many had to be clubbed to their senses.
Finally, the nife had achieved some sense of order and began classifying the livestock according to the quality of their meat, culling out those too old or muscular and stringy to make a good meal. Out of the burrows trundled an army of trachs to bear away corpses back to the nests. Killbeasts rounded up satisfactory livestock and herded them down into the ground. The nife thrilled at the idea of fresh tender meat in the nest. The larders would be filled for days.
During this process, which took several minutes, gunfire broke out in the kitchens. The nife had expected a counterattack and responded instantly. He ordered three squadrons of killbeasts into the kitchens, with a fourth stationed at the entrance.
In the darkened chambers a tremendous roar of gunfire began.
Although it took several minutes to put on their body-shells, Captain Bergen of 2nd tactical squad insisted on it before they went to the rescue. He had not expected so many people to be slaughtered in so short a time, and was sickened as he watched on the security video. The men shoved ammo into their waist-mounted automatics feverishly, casting frequent wide-eyed glances at the horror on the holo-plate.
“Here’s the plan,” boomed Bergen’s voice in their helmets. “Ruble, Fung and Lee, I want you down in the kitchens. Shoot up the place and get the attention of these monsters. Set up a fire zone right in front of the door and blast everything that comes through.”
The men acknowledged and ran for the stairs. Bergen turned to the remainder of his troops. “The rest of you follow me. Switch to infrared, no suit-lights, and move as silently as you can.”
The nife’s elation with the promise of quick victory faded as the killbeasts met up with organized heavy firepower. A dozen gray forms lay in the entrance to the kitchen, bodies blasted apart by armor-piercing exploding rounds. The three squads of killbeasts had been forced to pull back, leaving behind half their number. The effectiveness of the enemy’s ballistic weaponry was unexpected. He had sent in a humping swarm of shrades through the drainpipes and air ducts, but as yet they had been unable to reach the enemy holed up in the kitchens. The nife’s stalks lowered somewhat in concentrated thought. His cusps were closed to mere slits over his orbs.
Then a small girl came running into the hall from the main entrance. She halted upon seeing the Imperial forces and screamed shrilly. Running after her, a female militia officer darted out, snatched her up and disappeared back into the corridors.
The nife’s cusps snapped open wide. He chirruped rapidly to a culus that soared about the hall with a flock of her sisters. A group of them broke off and headed into the corridor to reconnoiter. Trotting behind them came more squadrons of killbeasts, fresh from the nests. Several more squadrons were sent off in pairs through all the other exits. The nife moved to speak with an umulk who was in the act of chewing the legs from a particularly fat vertebrate.
Bergen crouched in the main corridor, congratulating the efforts of officer Sung and her daughter. He ordered them both out of the building, explaining that little could be done without heavy armor and weaponry.
They didn’t have long to wait. Almost immediately, a group of bizarre-looking flying creatures swooped into the corridor. The men held their fire until the creatures were almost upon them before blasting them out of the air. By that time, the first of the killbeasts was springing toward them. The ripping sound of automatic fire was amplified in the enclosed space. The killbeasts kept coming, a new pair appearing as the last were blown to bits.
While the killbeasts gave their lives for a distraction, the shrades burst forth from their transport forms. A culus at Bergen’s feet exploded, and the shrade was wrapped around his legs in an instant. Armor compressed, crushing the flesh underneath. Bergen cried out in agony.
Falling into confusion, 2nd tactical squad resorted to firing at their own men, hoping the body-shell would protect them while blasting away the vile shrades. This allowed a killbeast to reach their lines and attack. Several more sprang up from behind, having successfully encircled them. Both sides quickly realized that the body-shells were impenetrable for foot-blades, but when wrestling in hand-to-hand, the killbeasts were much stronger. Guns were ripped from their waist-mounts and the members of 2nd tactical squad were killed by continuous streams of fire from their own weapons.
Governor Zimmerman was among the last to be found as he masterfully played dead beneath the corpse of a gutted deputy. After a cursory glance from the nife commander, he was judged suitable livestock due to his body-fat content and hustled off into the burrows of the umulks. After what seemed like hours of travel through muddy tunnels he joined the rest of the human herd and soon learned the horrors of the Imperium nest.
Fourteen
Mudface pulled the limo over to the side of a dark street that led down into a cluster of quiet estates and summer homes. They were high up in the hills surrounding New Grunstein now, on the edge of the Polar Range itself.
“What about the kid?” asked Mudface, waving his shotgun in Bili’s face.
“We’re almost there. We’ll kill’im as soon as we get to the house,” said Daddy, grunting as he heaved his bulk out of the limo and slammed the door shut. He went to relieve himself on a road sign.
“You can’t kill a little boy,” Sarah pleaded.