Hold a hand up, the scientist said in a quiet voice.
Jaddig did so and grimaced as Suzi placed her own one beside it. Five fingers lined up with three but the thumbs were similar and the fingers, too.
Now show me your claws.
What claws? snorted the clicker. I have no claws.
I believe you got sun burnt last summer. Suzi ignored the reply and continued, and your new skin is quite red.
So!
Your mouth and teeth?
Jaddig glowered. What are you getting at, Suzi?
For a species based on what we called insects, you have some remarkably interesting mammal like features, not to mention your inner qualities; compassion, modesty...
Jaddig slumped down in a soft chair. But how? There are hundreds of thousands of us.
This is just a theory, Jaddig. Your offspring are a product of eggs laid by winged females rather than human births?
Right.
Let's say a batch of these eggs had human D.N.A injected into them or original D.N.A replaced by a human variety. The offspring would be different. Evolution that takes millions of years naturally could be perfected within a few generations. Lets pretend there were a thousand eggs. Even if only five percent survived and half of these were deficient for some reason the few left could be isolated and raised. If you had continued as a winged female, how many eggs would you have produced?
Most laying females have a thousand or more offspring, Jaddig replied in a hushed whisper.
Let's say fifteen of this original thousand were egg layers; by generation two there would be fifteen thousand. With hormonal treatment most females could become egg producers, say ten thousand by generation three. It was humans of Generation Three and Four who brought in the Survival of Humanity Protocol. Perhaps they were more than interested in human survival. Perhaps they wanted to hide mistakes made by their ancestors.
Meanwhile the new species replaced the original one through assimilation or annihilation and continued to breed at a phenomenal rate until we reach today; the evolution of a million years in a century and a half.
So Crucnon are half human?
No, Suzi replied. More like twenty percent. Tell me, have you ever met a Crucnon from Pulgibr?
No. A law bans us from having anything to do with them. In school we were told they were sub-Crucnon, worse than humans. Most of our border wars were against them, not you.
So perhaps they are the pure Crucnon and your race is a hybrid species, the scientist continued.
But my kind are ruthless killers.
Are you?
Well, no... Jaddig bit on her bottom lip.
Humans have a history of being ruthless killers, too. I've researched human history, especially the old records suppressed by the Survival of Humanity Protocol. Our species were, and perhaps still are, as barbaric and cruel as your kind. It took us thousands of years to develop the traits we are proud of. She sighed. It was only a few generations before our ancestors arrived here that people like myself were discriminated against because of our eye shape and skin color. Perhaps the genes your species were given from humans were the reason for your government's aggression. Perhaps the original Crucnon were docile friendly creatures. That could be why the Pulgibr retreated over the mountains and let your ancestors take control.
A theory is it? Jaddig said in a slow voice.
Scientists deal in facts, Jaddig. I really don't have a lot of them so could be very wrong.
But one fact is I must have human genes?
Or the computer program was altered. Another theory I have is that your ancestors accessed the computer here and changed the memory banks to recognize your kind.
But that is unlikely?
I don't know, but the probability is low.
Oh, Suzi, you are a scientist, aren't you? Jaddig grinned. It gives me something to think about, though. Perhaps that was why losing my wings was so painful. The human pain genes were working overtime.
Could be, Suzi laughed. She glanced around and frowned. Where are the others? They've been gone for ages.
Holly went to find them, Jaddig replied. She mentioned something about a staircase around the back. Shall we go and have a look?
Why not? Suzi replied. She grabbed a jersey from her bag, placed it on and followed her clicker friend out into the main cave. Flood lights snapped on as they walked out and the interior lights went off. Efficient computer, she commented. I wonder if your ancestors or mine designed it.
Ours, replied Jaddig with a smile.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eleven
Holly stared out from the ledge and shivered. Dawn had arrived, the sky up the valley was red and already the outline of the encampment below could be seen. When she'd taken over guard duties from Graham at three hundred hours he'd told her the enemy were moving in below. In the three hours since he'd gone off for a well-earned sleep, hardly a light shone and there was not a sound, not even the usual twittering of birds they heard every morning. But the ledge constantly shook, sometimes quite violently like a series of ongoing earthquakes.
Now, as darkness disappeared Holly could see what she knew was there. The small area was full. Six combos stood in a line facing the cliff. Two were equipped with drilling rigs similar to those back in New Seattle and already a trench sloped down into the soil. Beyond them, thirty or more black tents had been erected and clickers, more than the human woman could count, were everywhere. Fires were lit and food being cooked. Holly realized one other sense wasn't operating. As well as hearing nothing, she could not smell the campfire smoke
Suzi's computer override must have worked. They found they couldn't access the force field and are attempting to go under it. The familiar voice behind Holly still made her jump.
George! she snapped. Do you always have to sneak up on me?
Go and have a clean up before breakfast, the sergeant replied. You look exhausted.
However Holly didn't move. How long will we have, George? she asked in a hushed voice.
If their drilling is successful, it'll be all over by lunch time, he grunted, but I want to try something.
He walked back to the door and lugged out a monstrous weapon. It had a barrel two meters long by fifteen centimeters wide and an electronic control panel attached to the side. The biggest in the armory, he snorted. This should curb their spontaneity a little.
He rested the front onto the stone wall and pulled out three telescopic legs so it stood on the rock ledge.
What about the force field? Holly warned. Couldn't whatever it fires bounce back and explode in our faces.
Could, the sergeant sniffed, but I doubt it. Our ancestors designed this place to be defended. Everything coming has been stopped otherwise we would have been blasted by now but I am pretty sure we can fire out through it. He nodded at two combos below armed with ugly looking guns aimed directly at them. Look down.
Holly bit on her lip and leaned out over the wall so she could see the ground close to where she knew the force field was. The area was littered with blackened holes, scorched vegetation and clicker bodies lying at grotesque angles. The scene made her feel sick. They already tried, she whispered.
About midnight, George replied. I was here with Graham when all hell broke lose.
What happened and why didn't we hear it? Holly retorted.
The projectiles hit the force field, dropped to the ground and exploded. We felt the ground shake but there was no sound. I think the force field repeals sound waves. That's also why we can't smell their fires.
And you're just going to fire that monstrosity at them? Holly gasped. What if your theory doesn't work?
We die three hours earlier than when the clickers dig through, George snorted. What do you suggest? Use our crossbows?
Okay, you don't need to be sarcastic, Holly snapped back. But couldn't we just explore the cave again. If the shuttle is here...
It isn't, George replied in a low sympathetic voice. You know th
at. We searched and the cave is empty.
Dark rings under Holly's eyes reflected the disappointment and frustration of the evening before. They had searched the cave from end to end. It went back into the hill a mere fifty meters and stopped at a clay wall. There was nothing except the building there so it appeared their journey had been futile.
And Suzi agreed it would probably work? Holly asked.
No, George snorted. You know her. She weighs everything up and...
Okay, George, Holly answered. So that is why you're here now. I could order you to stop, you know.
The old sergeant cast his eyes at her. If you did, I would obey, he said in a firm voice. I may be an intolerant old fool but I am a military man and DPF member for thirty five years; since I was sixteen, Lassie. You order me to stop and I'll return this weapon downstairs. He stopped and continued to receive her intense gaze with hardly a blink. But think of the alternative, Holly, he added in words so quiet she hardly heard them.
Holly turned and watched the silent activity below. A hundred clickers were lining up in traditional attack squads, three deep, shoulder to shoulder. Everyone held a rifle or similar vicious weapon. They were ruthless and, she knew, would show no mercy. She thought of Jaddig and how she would be tortured, Suzi their delicate scientist and Graham's cool confidence.
Hit the drilling rigs first! she hissed.
George gave a grunt, pressed a switch on the side of his weapon and a monitor lit up. Neither of the humans had seen a television screen before and stared in amazement at the picture on the screen of the valley below. George moved the weapon and the scene changed. He pushed a tiny lever and the monitor magnified objects. Suddenly words appeared.
Choose targets the words flashed and a red circle appeared in the middle of the screen.
What now? grunted George. There seemed to be no other controls.
How about that drilling combo, Holly said and touched it's picture on the screen.
Immediately the red circle jumped to the place she'd touched and the words Target one appeared in the circle.
My God, You've got it, Lassie! George exclaimed and touched the screen above the second drilling machine.
Target two, the words appeared then a sentence rolled across the screen bottom. Do you wish to select more targets? George grinned and touched the Yes
All the combos were targeted before George pressed No .
Immediately the screen blanked out and the words. Fire Power appeared and underneath was a row of numbers from one to five. George selected three then pressed the words Automatic Fire .
Once again the screen blacked out and two words appeared Fire and Abort .
Let me, Holly gasped. She noticed their machine moved on its own accord and, while she watched, the rear telescopic leg raised itself and the barrel front lowered.
With shaking fingers she reached up and touched Fire .
Even the grizzled old sergeant leaped in fright at the machine's response in the next twenty seconds while Holly held her hands to her mouth to suppress a scream. There was a whir of machinery and the weapon moved, a hiss followed and a long line of red light pulsed out of the barrel. The ray hit the first drilling combo, which glowed bright red for a second and imploded, if that was the word. For one second it was there and in the next there was a puddle of white hot metal slithering along the ground. Two clickers standing beside the combo also disappeared. Combo two disappeared two seconds later, followed by every target, one after the other in the order they had been programmed in.
Finally the laser gun, for that was what the human weapon was, stopped and the monitor came on. Targets Destroyed the words stated in a clinical fashion.
Oh My God! Holly whispered while George just stared at the silent devastation below. Clickers dived for cover, ran back up the valley and all sense of military discipline had vanished. Where the combos had been were puddles of liquid metal frothing and steaming. Several nearby corpses lay blackened on the ground.
I'll get the bastards, George snarled at the panicking clickers and reached for the monitor.
No, Holly grabbed his arm. We do not kill for the sake of killing, George. Let them be.
George caught her intense gaze. Okay, Holly. he shrugged. You're the boss.
Holly, come quickly! another voice pierced the silence.
Holly glanced up and saw Graham with his face flushed with excitement. He rushed up and grabbed her hands, was about to explain when his eyes saw the scene below. Still with an arm around her, he gaped and looked again; rubbed his eyes and turned back to Holly. Why is there no sound? was all he could mutter.
It's just that... she replied but emotions took over. Tears began to roll down her check and she felt Graham pull her in close.
It's okay, he said tenderly and stroked her hair. It's just fine.
Somehow his muscular arms around her felt right. Their eyes met and Holly smiled. You were about to tell me something? she said.
There's a flying craft in the cave, he replied. The back wall was a fake. Jaddig said something and another door opened, He reached down and kissed her lightly on the lips. Come and look.
You go, said George. He grinned. I'll keep an eye out here.
Fire at anyone who approaches the force field, Sergeant, she ordered and added. Also any vehicles that come into sight. Nothing else.
Right Generation Seven Leader, the sergeant replied and winked at Graham. Look after our leader, Lad. he said.
Holly was about to snort she was perfectly capable of looking after herself, thank you, when she saw the sergeant's expression. The old blue eyes seemed strangely sad, different from any expression she remembered. She turned and also saw Graham's eyes. They were different, too, in a strange sort of way. She frowned. Perhaps she was the one who had changed. Thanks George, she said, left her hand in Graham's and led him downstairs.
Suzi and Jaddig both were waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
Look, Holly! Jaddig gasped, her voice tingling with excitement.
Lit by a bank of floodlights at the back of the cave was a gigantic metal flying machine at least forty meters long and so high a vertical tail fin touched the cave roof. Triangular wings reached out another twenty meters, and a row of over thirty round windows was spaced along the side. The smooth streamlined surface was just about everything Charlie wasn't. A tricycle undercarriage with ten wheels held it up while, at the rear, a ramp hinged down to the ground.
My God, it's massive. We could drive Charlie inside, Holly gasped and walked around to peer up the ramp. The interior looked like a barley silo turned sideways with a curved framework and a smooth steel floor with clamps in tiny recesses every few meters.
Have you been in? she added.
No, Jaddig replied. I was playing with a control panel in the kitchen, heard a grinding noise outside and there it was. Graham rushed straight up to get you.
Well, Holly said. Let's have a look, shall we?
She led the way up the ramp and inside. Stretched along each side wall was a row of seats, forty or more, each with its own arm rests and safety straps. A faint hum greeted her and the darkened interior lit up to show a circular front wall with a door in the middle. Holly walked forward and reached for the silver door handle.
Place your hand on the identification panel, a voice cackled from out of nowhere and Holly shuddered in fright. She searched around and saw a small screen light up on the wall.
Oh Hell, here we go again, she snorted and turned to Jaddig standing by her shoulder. I'll probably need you again.
However, when she placed her hand on it the door slid back to reveal a control room with a large windshield. Four comfortable seats were arranged in two rows. Monitors, levers and gauges were under and above the windshield and between the front seats.
The driving controls, Graham said. It's a bit bigger than Charlie, isn't it.
Holly turned and smiled. You could say that, she whispered and sat in one of the front seats. They were facing the cave front,
level with the mezzanine floor. The windshield was four meters high and six wide. In front was a circular steel wheel that Holly reached for.
As with the door, as soon as she touched the wheel, a screen lit up and the voice asked for hand print identification. Well, I know what to do, the woman grunted, reached forward and placed her hand on the monitor. Immediately the computer began a long monotonous report on the condition of the aircraft. It was highly technical and meant little to Holly or the others. When it finally stopped the voice asked if other information was required.
Holly glanced at Jaddig who had seated herself in the other front seat, and frowned. What qualifications or experience does one need to operate this craft? she asked.
All authorized personnel can operate the FanWarrior.
FanWarrior?
This aircraft is a FanWarrior HT. That stands for Heavy Transport. It is used for transportation of equipment or personnel within the atmosphere of this planet but also has the ability to protect itself in a hostile environment.
Can it fly into space? interrupted Holly. There was disappointment in her voice.
No, only the shuttle craft at Base Alpha can leave the atmosphere.
Where is that? Holly again cut in.
On Pacifica Island, three hours flying time south of this continent.
I see, Holly continued and fixed Jaddig with a quizzical gaze. Am I permitted to fly this FanWarrior?
With your commander's permission.
Jaddig grinned and placed her hand on the panel on her side of the cabin. I give my permission, she caught Holly's eyes with a cheeky look.
Thank you, Admiral, the computer replied.
Call me Jaddig, the clicker girl smiled. All the personnel here today have permission to operate the FanWarrior.
They need to place their hands on the monitor...
It took a while to get the computer to speak in an almost normal voice. After some trial and error, the group discovered a Lightshield engine drove the FanWarrior, whatever that was, and had power to fly for an almost limitless time before the two engines needed recharging. The flying controls were automated with only a destination being required but they could be overridden by the pilot or copilot's voice. Other controls of interest were search and rendezvous modes.
Generation 7 Page 13
