“Look out, colonel. They―” He went limp then and I couldn t find a pulse. Just before I left him I noticed his left hand had been gnawed, as if by rats. Not a nice way to go, eaten alive by the rat-men of Ylokk.
Chapter 3
When we moved on into downtown, there were a couple of ineffectual attacks on us by foot-troops. They didn’t have much of what the French call elan: they charged from concealment behind the hedgerows in a lackadaisical way, then fell back as soon as we fired into them. Their short-range weapons didn’t touch us.
Sigtuna was quiet; there were a few people in sight, and no Ylokk. They’d been there, though―there was enough merchandise scattered in the streets, and smashed store windows, to make it clear there’d been looting. We saw a few dead aliens and one dead man, a fat fellow in a provincial constable’s uniform.
A staff car flying the Monitor Service flag came out of a side street and waited for us. I leaned out and a fellow I’d seen around Net Surveillance headquarters in Stockholm got out, came over and saluted. He needed a shave.
“Captain Aspman reporting, sir,” he told me. “I’ve got a command post set up in a restaurant there.” He pointed to one with phlox in the window boxes. “We were just getting ready to start worrying, Colonel,” he added.
“You can go ahead and worry now, Captain,” I told him. “Things seem to be under control here,” I added.
“I hope so, sir,” Aspman said. “We got here ahead of them and beat them back rather easily. The little news I’ve gotten from the rest of the country isn’t so good, though. They’re taking over―and operating―power plants, airports, fuel and supply warehouses. It seems they plan to live off the land. And, sir, they’re cannibals! They take all the prisoners they can―probably to eat.”
“Not really, Captain,” I corrected him. “They’re not human, so eating men isn’t cannibalism for them.”
“I know, sir, but they eat their own dead―and wounded.” He sounded shocked. “I put one fellow out of his misery. He’d been shot in the belly, and his comrades had eaten off his left arm.” Aspman shuddered. “I hate these things, Colonel! What are we going to do about them?” He sounded as if he really didn’t know.
“Easy, Captain,” I said. “We’re going to get organized and eliminate them―or drive them back to where they came from.”
Aspman nodded. “Certainly, sir―but―”
“How many men do you have here, Captain?” I asked him. He didn’t know exactly. I told him to find out and to give me a complete inventory of supplies on hand, plus full information on the civilians trapped in the town, and, of course everything he’d managed to learn about the Ylokk force besieging Sigtuna. He gave me a semi-snappy salute and took off.
I found an empty room in the back of the hotel/ restaurant and had my stuff brought in to set up my ops room. In a few minutes Aspman’s couriers started arriving with bits and pieces of the information I needed, either verbally reported or scribbled on odd bits of paper. I called Aspman in.
“Collate all this information as it comes in, organize and consolidate it, and give me a clear typed copy,” I told him. “Get on the ball, Captain,” I added. “We don’t have time for SNAFU right now.”
He left, protesting about something. Just then Barbro came in; I’d left her helping some of the local women with kids, who needed shelter and food. She looked at the heap of scrap paper on my desk and started right in. In five minutes I had a nice clean list of military supplies on hand, and five minutes later one on the civilian or privately-owned food, materiel, clothing, and spare rooms. Aspman came back, his hands full of more scribbled paper.
“It can’t be done, sir!” he was complaining. Barbro took a piece of paper from the wad in his hand, smoothed it out, glanced at it and said, “These blankets are just what Herr Borg keeps in the window,” she told him crisply. “There’s another gross in his warehouse, under the tarps.”
“I didn’t have time―” Aspman started. “Anyway, who―?” He broke off, looking resentfully at my gorgeous red-headed wife.
“That’s all for you, mister,” I said. “You can turn in your captain’s insignia right now, and I’ll try to find something useful for you to do here in the office.” I glanced at the stuff in the teakwood containers by my desk. “Maybe emptying waste-baskets,” I suggested.
“Look here!” Aspman blurted. “My commission comes directly from His Majesty the King! No mere foreigner can take it from me!”
Barbro went over to him and said, “Surely, sir, the success of the mission outweighs personal considerations. Please follow your orders.”
He looked at his feet and muttered. I took his arm and lifted him high enough to look at his face.
“I can’t afford to tolerate incompetents, mister,” I told him. “I need an adjutant who can get things done and done right―in a hurry. Now get out of here!” I threw him halfway to the door; he scuttled the rest of the way. I glanced at Barbro. “It had to be done,’ I apologized. “This is war.”
“But, Brion,” she replied, “who do you have to replace him?”
“How about you?” I suggested. “I need these supplies collected and warehoused, fast.”
She gave me a sardonic salute―she was a captain in the NSS Reserve―and left with no questions.
The next couple of hours were a nightmare. Aspman had done nothing constructive during his tenure. The military personnel (two hundred reservists) were in a state of confusion, not even knowing their units or officers. Most of them hadn’t been issued a uniform or a weapon, or even been fed regularly. The townspeople were alienated and uncooperative, thanks to Aspman’s high-handed methods and self-promotion. He’d kicked the local banker out of his villa and made it his personal property. I had a hard time even getting a few citizens to talk to me. Most of them seemed to have no idea of what was happening. Several hadn’t even seen one of the invaders. No wonder they’d been uncooperative with Aspman’s autocratic methods. So I made a speech.
Chapter 4
“People, we’re faced with the worst disaster ever to confront the Imperium: invasion, on a large scale, by non-human creatures who apparently intend to take over our world. They’re in all the major cities we’ve heard from. But we’re a long way from helpless. We have defense forces and trained and well-armed troops. They’ll be here soon. In the meantime we have to do all we can to hold the enemy off. Sigtuna has been selected as the headquarters for our defense in this province. Other forces are deploying elsewhere. I was placed in command of the defense here, and I need good men and women to help me. First I have to requisition stores of supplies to support our effort. I have lists here which I’ll distribute in a few minutes. Now, I’m calling for volunteers to man collection stations.”
A plump, middle-aged fellow spoke up. “Collect what?” he demanded.
“Whatever is in the town that we need in order to fight the Ylokk,” I told him.
“What’s this ‘lock’?” he wanted to know.
“We’ve determined that ‘Ylokk’ is the name by which the non-human invaders call themselves.”
“Non-what?” somebody yelled.
“The Ylokk are not human beings,” I explained. “They appear to be rodentia, descendants of highly-evolved rat-like ancestors dating back to the Cretaceous era.”
“I saw one fellow, looked human to me,” a thin woman shrilled. “This is just an excuse to justifying killing harmless strangers!”
“How close did you see him?” I interrupted her.