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"Do it," said Carson.

She took them up. Their navigation lights, freed, spilled out over the black snow. The wind rocked the vessel, swept it clean.

Lightning lanced through the night. They timed the distant rumble, guessed at the effect of local air pressure. It was about twelve kilometers away. Cautiously, she set back down.

They passed coffee around. "It figures," said Carson. "We knew all along that the natives lived through these. Except, I guess, the urban populations." He looked hard at Hutch. "I think you're right. About Oz. When did you figure it out?"

"A few hours ago. I kept thinking how much Oz looked like a city. Who were they trying to fool?" She kissed Carson lightly on the cheek. "I wonder if they understood what these things really are? Where they come from?"

"I wonder," Angela said, "if this is the way organized religion got started." They all laughed.

More lightning. Closer.

"Maybe we should start paying attention to the storm," said Hutch.

Angela nodded. "It does seem to be walking this way, doesn't it?"

Another bolt glided to ground, illuminating the cockpit.

"I think it's seen us," Hutch said.

"Hey." Angela caught her shoulder. "Don't let your imagination get overloaded."

"It's only lightning out there," whispered Carson.

Angela, as a precaution, powered up.

"What kind of sensor range do we have?" asked Hutch.

"Zip. If we have to go, we'll be flying blind."

A long, liquid bolt flowed between land and sky. Hills and plain stood out in quick relief, and vanished. Thunder rolled across them. "It is coming this way," whispered Angela.

"I don't think we want to go up in this wind if we can avoid it," said Carson. He was about to add something, when another fireball appeared. It sliced across the sky. They watched it move through the dark, right to left, watched it stop and begin to brighten.

"Son of a bitch," squealed Angela. "It's turning toward us." Simultaneously, she pulled back the yoke, and the shuttle bucked into the air. The wind howled. The thing in the night burned, a blue-white star churning to nova.

"Button up," called Hutch, sliding into her harness and igniting the energy field. Carson scrambled for a handhold.

Hutch locked Angela down in her web seat, and sealed off cargo, where Carson was seated. Then she clipped on her own restraints.

"Frank?"

"I'm okay," he said. "Get us out of here."

Angela put the juice to the magnets, and the shuttle leaped forward, and up, and the light passed beneath them. They heard the subsequent roar and felt the shock wave, and came around in time to see a white geyser climbing skyward.

Hutch looked toward Angela. "Strange meteor."

She nodded. "I'd say so."

The wind dragged at them, blew them across the sky.

Angela was trying to ease back onto the surface when a thunderbolt exploded alongside and the night filled with light. Their electronics went down, and the vehicle lurched wildly. Smoke leaked into the cockpit.

Angela activated her fire-retardants, fought the shuttle into near-level flight, and started back up. "Safer upstairs," she said.

"No," said Carson. "Down. Take us down."

"Frank, we need to be able to maneuver. We're a sitting duck down there."

"Do it, Angela. Get us on the ground."

"You're crazy," said Hutch.

Angela looked distraught. "Why?"

Another bolt hammered them.

"Just do it," Carson said. "As quick as you can."

Hutch watched him on the monitor. He was pulling together the air tanks they'd stored.

Angela pushed the stick forward. "We should be trying to get above this," she protested.

"How do you get above meteorsT' demanded Carson.

Status lamps blinked off, came back on. Something exploded in back and a roar filled the vehicle. They began to fall.

"We're holed," cried Hutch.

Angela banked left and whacked the navigation console. "Portside rear stabilizers are gone," she said. Through the bedlam of escaping air, howling wind, raining rock and ice, she managed to comment coolly, "Looks like you'll get your way. We are sure as hell going down."

The sky was filled with lightning.

"Fifty meters," said Angela.

They jounced back onto the plain, throwing up gouts of snow and soot. Another meteor was tracking across the sky to their rear. They watched it pause and begin to brighten.

"Out," Carson cried.

Angela started to argue, but Hutch reached over and punched the air cyclers. "It's okay," she said.

They grabbed the tanks and dragged them out as soon as the hatch had opened. Hutch tumbled into the snow, got up, and kept going.

Carson was right behind her.

"Run," he cried. He had three tanks, lost one, but did not go back for it.

The fireball was coming in over a range of hills to the north.

They ran. The snow was crusted and kept breaking underfoot. Hutch went down again. Damn.

Hang onto the tanks!

"You sure he knows what he's doing?" Angela asked.

"Yes," said Hutch. "I think so. Go."

The women struggled to put distance between themselves and the shuttle. Carson stayed with them.

The meteor trailed fire. Pieces broke off and fell.

"Everybody down!" cried Carson. They threw themselves into the snow.

The fireball roared in and blasted the shuttle. Direct hit.

The ground buckled, the icescape brightened, and a hurricane of snow and earth rolled over them. Rocks and debris struck Hutch's energy field.

When it subsided, Carson switched on his lamp. They saw only a crater where the shuttle had been.

Angela shivered. She looked at the sky, and back at the lamp. "For God's sake," she said, "turn it off."

Carson complied. "If you like," he said. "But I think we'll be all right now."

She tried to bury herself in the snow, to hide from the clouds.

"It was never after us" said Carson.

"How can you say that?" Angela asked.

More lightning. "Right angles," he said. "It wanted the shuttle. Your flying box."

Over the next few hours, the electricity drained out of the heavens. They sat quietly, watching the storms clear off. "I think I understand why the Quraquat used the image of a Monument-Maker to portray Death," Frank said.

"Why?" asked Angela.

"Shoot the messenger. The Monument-Makers probably had no compunctions about landing, introducing themselves, and telling the Quraquat what the problem was." He smiled. "You know, Richard was right. There are no aliens. They all turn out to be pretty human."

"Like George," said Hutch.

Carson drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. "Yes," he said. He looked at Angela and explained: "They couldn't stop the goddam things, so they created a diversion. Made something else for them to attack."

"Well, something occurs to me" said Angela. "This thing" — she waved in the general direction of the sky—"was part of the wave that struck Beta Pac about 5000 B.C., Quraqua around 1000 B.C., and Nok in AD 400. More or less. Right?"

"Yes," said Carson.

"It's headed toward Earth." She looked unsettled.

Carson shrugged. "We've got nine thousand years to deal with it."

"You know," Hutch said, "Janet mentioned that we may already have had some direct experience with these things. She thinks the A wave correlates to Sodom."

Angela's eyes narrowed. "Sodom? Maybe." She fixed Carson with a tight smile. "But I'm not sure we've got as much time as you think. The B wave is still out there."

Hutch moved closer to her companions. The B wave, the wave that had struck Beta Pac in 13,000 B.C., and Quraqua four thousand years later, would be relatively close to Earth. "About a thousand years," she said.