He sipped his distillate and heaved another sigh as the holoset flickered, bringing the correct image up. Hot numbness washed over his mouth and took the edge off his tension. He had been tense for days now, he realized.
Bauru took an early lead in the game, scoring two goals from the third tier in the first period. The Dragon defense was hard-pressed to hold them, and when the Dragons finally got the puck, it took several minutes into the second period before they managed their first goal. Although his team was losing, Drick was happy. For the first time in a week he was comfortable and relaxed. He took another heavy slug of the drug, knowing it was too much, but wanting to do it anyway.
When the security plate glowed into life, it displayed what had to be the most unwelcome sight Drick had ever seen. It was a mechanical nightmare, a draconian battlesuit of some kind with a mouth that glowed with an unnatural blue radiance.
“Gi?” he questioned out loud, recalling vague memories of the thing from his great Aunt’s estates. The distillate had dulled his wits. He took another drink, and was surprised to discover he had drained the flask. He was alarmed just a bit, realizing that he had taken too much, but then the feeling of alarm faded as the drug fell over him like a veil.
“I am bringing my army to the spaceport,” she told him, her voice oddly disembodied from the alien image on the holo-plate.
“What do you want here, Gi?” asked Drick, his voice slurring slightly. He glanced down at the flat flask, but it was still sadly empty. With a studied concentration, he worked to replace the stopper. It seemed a difficult task.
“I’m not Gi, you idiot! I’m Mai Lee!” she boomed in irritation.
Drick squinted at the wavering holo-plate. He realized with a dull lack of concern that his vision had faded somewhat, a clear sign of a heavy blur dose. “Oh yes. How are you doing, Auntie?”
Mai Lee made a sound of infinite frustration. “Listen to me carefully, my drunken, imbecilic nephew. Tell me where Droad is.”
“The Governor?”
“Yes,” Mai Lee hissed through her teeth.
“He’s at the fort.”
“All right, good. I am bringing in several lifters and helicopter gunships. You must drop the security nets on the western side of the complex so that we can come in over the trees without detection.”
Drick blinked at her in incomprehension. At length, she managed to get her message across. Accustomed to obeying his Aunt and almost beyond resistance in any case, he gave the appropriate orders to the handful of men who Droad had left in charge of the spaceport.
Having finished, he managed to key-off the pause button on his holoset and settled back to watch the remainder of the rayball game. The roar of arriving lifters and the heavy tramp of armored feet outside his office did little to interest him. It was the final period, and the Dragons had finally regained their fighting spirit. With two quick goals, they could still win the game. Drick was hardly able to make out the tiny figures on the holoset, his eyes were tearing up so badly. Streams of drying tears were cold on his cheeks.
There was a pounding on the door. He didn’t respond until it crashed inward. A fantastic creature ducked its head as it entered. The tail twitched with the whining of servos, balancing the metal monster on top of the shattered door.
Behind the creature there was the flash and boom of gunfire. Men screamed and died. Drick struggled to grasp what was happening, but found it difficult to think.
“Follow me to the elevator.”
Drick blinked dazedly. “Where are we going, Auntie?”
Mai Lee snorted. “To the Gladius, you moron. The clan is leaving this world. Will you attend me?”
Drick struggled to his feet. His thigh hit the corner of his desk, the flask and the holoset clattering to the floor. “Could you help me?”
Mai Lee looked at him for a moment, metal tail twitching. “You disgust me. If you can’t make it to the elevator by yourself, you are best left behind.”
Her claws left heavy scars in the broken door. Drick was left to struggle to his feet alone. Feeling only the vaguest sense of urgency, Drick found the holoset with his groping hands. He reactivated it, relieved to find it still worked. For a time he forgot completely about Mai Lee, and sat on the floor, watching the end of the rayball game.
An unknowable time later he awoke to discover he was staring at a blank plate. Only a ghostly green nimbus shimmered over the set, the holo equivalent of static.
The intercom was beeping. That was what had finally sunk in. With infinite slowness and a mild feeling of annoyance, he answered the call.
“Major Lee?” said a voice. An image of a man’s face stared out at him, but Drick couldn’t make out who it was.
“Droad?” he guessed.
“Listen very carefully, Major Lee. You have to shut down the elevators immediately. The lifters coming in now aren’t manned by Mai Lee’s troopers, Jarmo tells me they are alien forces. They mustn’t be allowed to board the Gladius.”
“What?”
“Shut down the elevator, man! That is an order!” Droad boomed at him.
“Everyone’s yelling tonight,” muttered Drick. “I’m in charge of this installation, Droad. This is my post. I will not halt the elevator while my Auntie is using it.” He sneered at Droad’s wavering likeness in suspicion. The man thought he was God.
Droad fumed for a moment, then continued in a slow, gentle voice. “Listen, you must listen. The aliens are coming right in on you, I can’t raise anyone else at the spaceport, and you’ve got to keep them from getting to the Gladius.”
The man’s kind demeanor didn’t fool Drick. He was clearly just trying to get him into trouble with his Auntie. Drick was having none of it.
“You’ve got no authority with me, no matter what the identity computers say,” said Drick, waving his empty flask at the image. He swung the flask at Droad, wacking the air where the holo shimmered. He stabbed the cut-off button and stood up. He almost fell again, but managed to keep up, pinwheeling his arms and staggering. He worked his way across his office, then pitched headlong over something in the doorway. His teeth cut into his lips and blood ran down his chin. He felt about, more than half-blinded, discovering that he was lying on the smashed door. He lay there for a considerable time trying to gather his wits. Behind him the intercom beeped incessantly.
Then there was a crash down the hall, followed by the heavy thump of running feet. He tried to raise his head, gave up, set it back down again.
A dark shape ran by. Several more followed it. There was an odd stink in the air. Then there was another presence, coming up behind him. He struggled to turn his head. He felt the light touch of something rubbery and wet, probing against his back. He managed to turn his head to face it.
There was a shrade sitting on his back, staring at him. A quivering set of mandibles tasted his blood. A dozen sets of stubby legs suddenly stiffened, became sharp, stabbed into his flesh. Fiery pain raced through his dulled nervous system. The constriction began and his ribs crackled. Breathing became impossible. He struggled in silent, vague horror, unable to believe until the very end that what was happening to him was real.
“They’re all aliens? You’re sure?” asked Droad. He continued to stir his hot caf and blow into it, but it had long since grown cold.
“Absolutely. Not one of those flitters or escorting gunships is manned. They’re all heading right in on the spaceport, dropping the troops and heading back to the forests for more. The radio emissions system I rigged up to detect the enemy is lit up like a star cluster,” said Jarmo, his eyes never leaving his graphic projections. “We can’t let any more of them get to the Gladius, sir. I believe the orbital station is already compromised.”