He moved off and soon had two ragged lines of six full militia companies formed up. He ordered them to attack in waves, the first leading the second by two minutes. Ahead of the first wave was the 1st tactical squad, eager for a rematch with Droad’s giants.
Hundreds of men moved through the parking lots, firing as they came. The fresh white snow was trampled to gray slush, then splattered red in places as return fire found targets.
“We have overwhelming numbers. We can’t lose,” whispered Ari, half to himself. He eagerly trained his goggles on the area of the baggage lockers in the arrivals section. Already he was planning how to get back his satchel in a smooth manner that would arouse no undue suspicion.
Drick, standing at his side, commented, “You seem unusually eager to see this battle through, General.”
“It’s my job,” answered Ari.
“Yes, but it just doesn’t seem like you-”
He broke off at the screaming sound of missiles in flight.
“The missile batteries have finally opened up!” shouted Drick exuberantly.
“No, damn it, no!” hissed Ari through clenched teeth. He hunkered down and focused his goggles on the front walls of the terminal building, fully expecting to see them disintegrate in a fireball. But instead of falling on the spaceport, sounds of explosions erupted from downtown Grunstein. He looked that way and his mouth gaped in amazement. The top third of the KXUT building, including the dish and the transmitter had been blown completely away.
His surprise increased into shock as he saw a squadron of Stormbringers lift off vertically from the Zimmerman field on the fort grounds and turned northward. Two of them broke off and zoomed over the city, where they began methodically bombing the commercial district. The rest headed off in the direction of the Slipape counties.
Then, explosions rocked the heavy struts of the lifter he was leaning on, causing him to jerk his gaping head around the other way. The cars in the parking lot were blossoming into red flowers. The leading militia riflemen of the first wave dissolved, like insects caught by the sudden gushing of a blowtorch.
With a flourish, the doctor removed the sheet covering the thing on the table. “Quite a monster, eh?” said Doctor Risi with something akin to pride. He watched their reactions while tapping his right forefinger against his teeth.
Governor Droad grunted and Jarmo wrinkled his great nose.
“So, it is your belief that this creature is alien to Garm?” asked Droad. His eyes moved up and down the disgusting mess that covered the stainless steel table. At the damaged head section, an incision began that ran the length of the thing’s brown, fleshy belly. Bizarre organs and thick rubbery muscles lay exposed to the harsh glare of the doctor’s surgical lamp. He was reminded distinctly of the parasitic worms and sea slugs he had dissected in college.
“Absolutely. There is no record of anything like this organism in the colony files, nor in the Nexus Cluster records,” replied the doctor. He was short, wiry little man with odd fingers that seemed overly long and delicate even for his small hands. The tips of these fingers tapered to elfin points and each of his fingernails was precisely cut.
“What is it then?”
“I haven’t come up with a name for it yet, but when I do I’ll let you know,” said the doctor, smiling. Droad shot him questioning side-glance, but he seemed not to notice. “I can tell you what it isn’t. It isn’t a snake, nor any kind of reptile. It’s more like a hot-blooded caterpillar with an extremely large brain and a lot of organs that I’ve yet to analyze.”
“What about the radio emissions?” demanded Jarmo, intrusively leaning over the mound of twisted flesh on the table. “That’s what interests me most. Have you discovered yet how they do it?”
The doctor raised one fingertip between himself and Jarmo’s looming face. He was clearly not intimidated. “I was just getting to that. The thing definitely has a built-in organic radio, just as we surmised from the security system records.”
The finger dived downward like a pointer, aiming into the damaged head area. “I found it here, near the brain, just below where the ear would be on most earth species. Fortunately, the crude methods used to kill the creature didn’t destroy it.”
“And so Jarmo was right? This thing can use radio waves to communicate the way we use sound waves?” asked Droad, shaking his head in amazement.
“An assumption, but probably a safe one. With only the crudest of lab equipment available here at the spaceport, I can’t tell you much more. Certainly it can receive such transmissions, and it would only make sense that it should be able to transmit them as well.”
Droad stepped back from the table and urged the doctor to continue his research. Together, he and Jarmo headed back toward the security center. “What do you think Jarmo?”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. It would seem most likely that our opponents set this thing to spy on us or to assassinate you. We know little about how powerful the elite on Garm really are. Do they have a source of bio-weapons like this? I would give a lot to know where it came from.”
“There is another possibility,” said Droad. “Recall the earlier declarations made by the newsies. All that talk about an alien invasion up in the hills.”
“That sort of thing makes good video,” replied Jarmo.
“Yes, but that thing on the table is quite real.”
The two of them reached the security center and settled down to rest a bit. Soon it would be nightfall again, and as the militia units outside were growing in strength, they expected an attack soon after dark. The primary topic of conversation, even more vital than the alien from the restrooms, was the disposition of the mechs in the hold of the Gladius.
“We have to assume they aren’t coming,” said Droad, sitting with his boots on Major Lee’s desk and sipping another mug of hot caf. There was a special flavor in the Garmish variety that he couldn’t quite identify, but which he was beginning to appreciate.
“Although I am generally the conservative one here,” said Jarmo, “I wouldn’t count them out by any means. Rem-9 is intelligent, experienced and more than competent. More importantly, they’re mechs. A bunch of security men and sleeper agents on the ship should not be able to take them out.”
Droad frowned into his steamy mug. “One well-placed explosive on each of those shipping capsules would do it, though. We checked them right before we came down, but it’s obvious now that the rulers here were onto us from the start.”
Jarmo opened his mouth to comment further but was stopped by an echoing explosion from the front of the terminal. The men leapt to their feet and went out into the main room. Sergeant Manstein was there, looking over the shoulders of an operator.
“They’re coming back for more, sir,” he said as Droad entered the room.
On the main screens a wave of riflemen, led by a knot of men in black body-shell charged through the parking lot. Gun muzzles flashed and plasma bursts blossomed.
“They’re serious this time. Sergeant, take everyone you can gather and head for the arrivals level. Jarmo and I will take over here,” said Droad. “Jarmo?”
Jarmo was working with the radar techs. He turned around at the Governor’s call. “I don’t know for sure, sir, but I think the mechs may finally be coming down.”
For the first time in hours, Droad felt himself smile. It felt good.
“You see their jump-flitters?”
“No, but we have picked up four flitters, coming right on us from the Gladius. Unless the Captain has decided to join the battle, I think it’s a safe bet that the mechs will add their weight shortly.”
Droad nodded. “How long until they get here?”
“About ten minutes.”