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The Invasion of August

by Steven Gordon



Prologue:  The Invasion of the Insects



	The fleet was destroyed.

	The Alliance fleet, the only thing protecting the League of 
United Planets and its allies in the June Directorate from the Insects, 
had been destroyed. There was supposed to have been an armistice held 
at Vitalics, where the Alliance and Insect fleets would meet and the 
peace treaty would be signed.

	Instead, the fleet was lost in an ambush; a fleet, built up over 
hundreds of years, destroyed quickly, easily, in the space of several 
minutes, by a mysterious technology the Alliance had never seen before. 
That left all the planets of the League, and the Directorate open to 
invasion.

	Very little was known about the Insects; not their planets of 
origin, not even their proper name for their own species 
(unpronounceable for any human), not even why they were attacking us. 
What was known was that they looked like insects, large, seven foot 
tall ones. It was also known that they had their own language, were 
undoubtedly intelligent, they had access to advanced technology, and 
for some reason they felt compelled to attack humanity.

	The invasion of the League and Directorate planets began with 
little or no advance warning.....







Part I: Clifford Croft's Story



Chapter 1: The Fall of August



	They were incredible.

	One of them could shoot fire from her hands.

	One of them could move objects with his mind.

	One of them could see into the future.

	One of them could create illusions, see through walls, and turn 
his right hand into almost any object he wanted.

	They were also, in many ways, neurotic or borderline mentally 
retarded.

	The one who could shoot fire from her hands was named Red Sally. 
She had the power to burn enemies, but also a constant urge to burn 
things, which, combined with a hair trigger temper, made her almost as 
dangerous to allies as to enemies.

	The one who could move objects with his mind was called The 
Clapper. He had the intellect of a ten year old, and had the constant 
urge to clap his hands, far from ideal in missions requiring stealth.

	The one who could see into the future was named Mongo. But he 
could only see possible futures, and his predictions were far from 
certain. Furthermore, he was very difficult to deal with, because of an 
anti-social complex that led him to feel that everyone around him was 
ungrateful for his services.

	The one who could create illusions, see through walls, and turn 
his hand into almost any object was not one but three separate and 
totally opposite personalities, each with their own skill. The primary 
personality was known as Crazy Rob. He could create illusions. But he 
was also paranoid, and was convinced that everyone was out to get him.

	Another personality was Matt. He could see through walls. He was 
actually the easiest to get along with, although he was kind of dreamy, 
which made it difficult to get him to focus on things such as work.  

	The third personality was Bender. He could turn his right hand 
into objects, but the object he usually chose was a large spoon. With 
coaxing he could turn it into other things, but Rob, who was clinically 
depressed, was not the easiest person to work with. Or should I say 
easiest personality?

	And the master of ceremonies in this four ringed circus was none 
other than myself, superspy Clifford Croft.

	I'm a spy. 

	Not a nursemaid.

	A spy. 

	Not a discussion leader.

	A SPY.

	Not a psychiatrist.

	A S-P-Y.

	That means I spy on people. Sometimes, I commit espionage. 
Occasionally, and this isn't my favorite part of my job, I have to 
shoot people, usually ones shooting at me.

	Nothing in that job description even remotely relates to mental 
counseling, does it? And yet here I am, in Column HQ, running a 
discussion during "community time" for the Column's "gamma operatives", 
those with special abilities.

	The Chief picked me. He said that the doctors were having trouble 
getting through to them, and that they might listen to someone they 
respected. 

	That still doesn't explain why he picked me.

	"Stop hitting me!" Mongo squealed.

	"You tripped me!" said the Clapper. 

	"You're making me hot!" said Crazy Rob, sweating.

	"Stop putting snakes in my lap!" said Red Sally, frantically 
brushing away empty air.

	"Stop!" I said. They continued to argue. "STOP!" I shouted.

	They still ignored me, arguing among themselves, seated in a 
circle while white clothed orderlies watched from a respectful 
distance.

	I sighed, and drew my blaster. I adjusted the setting. To 
maximum.

	I fired at the ceiling. There was a tremendous noise, and large 
chunks of plastiform fell around me.

	That got their attention.

	"Hello!" I said. "Let's handle this one item at a time, shall 
we?" 

	I turned to Mongo. "What's your problem?" I noticed two guards 
standing behind him. Mongo was currently confined to the detention 
center, and had only been let out temporarily, under guard, for this 
"therapy session". I idly wondered what he had done to wind up in 
detention.

	Mongo pointed a bony finger at the Clapper. "He is hitting poor 
Mongo! Ow" He said, his head jerking to an imaginary slap.

	I turned to the Clapper. "Stop that."

	"He tripped me!" said the Clapper, clapping. (Clap clap!)

	"No," said Mongo. "Mongo only tells him he sees a future where he 
trips."

	"Yes, and when I actually tripped, it was because you tripped 
me!" said the Clapper.

	I turned to Mongo. "You can't expect to hurt people without 
getting some kind of negative response."

	"He never appreciates Mongo," said Mongo accusingly.

	"Well, now you can appreciate how he can hurt you," I said.

	I turned to Crazy Rob. "What's your problem?"

	"This heat is sweltering!" said Crazy Rob, and I saw he was 
sweating. He glared at Sally. "She's doing it!"

	I felt the air around him. It was hot. I sighed. "Sally, stop."

	Sally was still brushing imaginary objects off of her lap. "I 
will when he gets rid of these snakes!"

	"Rob?" I said. "You want to do something about the snakes?"

	"They're not really there," said Crazy Rob defensively.

	"And I have no reason to really be here," I said. "But if you 
stop, perhaps I can persuade Sally to."

	"It's all a conspiracy!" said Crazy Rob, glaring at me. "You put 
her up to it! You're making her do it!"

	"Yes, Rob," I said, playing into his conspiracy theory.

	"You--what was that?"

	"Yes, you're right, I conspired with Red Sally to make you feel 
hot. Now that you've exposed the conspiracy, can you lighten up on the 
snakes?"

	Crazy Rob looked startled, as if he hadn't been expecting the 
conversation to take this turn. He nodded, and Sally suddenly relaxed 
and stopped brushing away the air around her.

	"And now, Sally?" I asked.

	"He deserves it," she said glaring at me. Her hair was now blonde 
with a slight pink ting to it. The more she used her power, the redder 
her hair became.

	"Yes, but he uncovered our conspiracy, and there's no sense in 
continuing," I said.

	"What conspiracy?"

	"Sally."

	"All right," Sally sighed, and the air around Crazy Rob suddenly 
cooled.

	"I want to know more about this conspiracy," said Crazy Rob. 
"Were you all in on it?"

	"We can get back to that later," I said. "Does anyone have any 
idea why I'm here today?"

	"To entertain us!" the Clapper squealed, clapping.

	"To show appreciation," said Mongo.

	"To annoy us," said Red Sally.

	"This is all a diversion for something else," Crazy Rob said.

	"I'm here because you're all having some difficulties with 
interpersonal relations," I said diplomatically.

	"And they sent you?" said Red Sally contemptuously.

	"I don't light people on fire when I get angry," I said.

	"You just shoot them," said Sally.

	"This isn't about me, this is about you," I said. 

	"Chief orders it," said Mongo, getting a far reaching look. "I 
sees it yesterday. Chief says to Croft, she says, Croft, you must do 
this. Croft protests, he protests he does not like us-"

	"That's not true," I said. "Whatever future you were seeing, that 
wasn't the real one. It's not that I don't like you, but...." I paused, 
momentarily lost in liespeak. They looked at me, awaiting my response. 
I changed the subject. "Let's get back to you. Wouldn't it be nice if 
you could interact more easily with other people?"

	"If other people were nice, yes," said Mongo.

	"Let's start with you, Mongo," I said. "You feel that you're 
underappreciated."

	"Yes, yes!"

	"But maybe if you appreciated other people more, they would do 
the same for you."

	"Why would Mongo appreciate others?" Mongo asked. "Can others see 
the future too?"

	"Well, no, but seeing the future isn't the only nice thing a 
person can do for someone else," I said. "Take your food, for example. 
If someone goes through the trouble to prepare a special meal-"

	"Is nothing compared to seeing future," said Mongo.

	"-so you do see the similarity," I said, doing my duty in a 
purely perfunctory way. How could the Chief really think that I could 
help these people?

	I turned to Red Sally, who was next. "Sally, I think you could 
get along better with people if you didn't light them on fire."

	"You TELL me to light people on fire," said Sally.

	"Enemies, in combat, yes," I said. "I was referring to people 
here, like the orderlies in this room."

	"Who?" said Sally. "I haven't burned anyone."

	I sighed. Was this really necessary? "Orderlies, those of you who 
have been burned, at one time or another, raise your hands.""

	Two orderlies in white slowly raised their hands.

	"Raise your hands, don't be shy," I said.

	All the other orderlies cautiously raised their hands.

	Sally looked around at reality, and temporarily readjusted. 
"Well, I don't mean to, but.."

	"Exactly. You need to control your temper," I said. 

	"I'll try," said Sally. "But people have to try not to get me so 
angry."

	I turned to the Clapper.  "And you have to learn not to push 
people around with your mind."

	The Clapper clapped, giving an idiotic grin.

	"People don't like being slapped, even if by an invisible force."

	The Clapper, still grinning, clapped again.

	"And don't think they can't figure out who's doing it, because 
they can."

	The Clapper kept clapping.

	"And if you get them angry enough, they might glue your hands 
together."

	The Clapper stopped smiling, and his hands, clasped together, 
suddenly stopped moving.

	I turned to Crazy Rob. "Causing hallucinations won't win you many 
friends either."

	Crazy Rob, his head drooping, said, "Why should I care?"

	I suddenly noticed that his right hand had changed into a large 
metal spoon. He had changed from his Crazy Robert personality into his 
Bender personality. Bender was merely depressed; he didn't actually 
bother anyone. There was no sense in talking to Bender about Rob, since 
there was no connection between the two.

	I was actively debating how to fill up the rest of the hour when 
the building-wide alarm sounded. 

	A speaker blared. "Condition 44! All agents, report to the 
nearest conference room immediately! On the double."

	Condition 44? What was that? Probably someone's laundry caught 
fire in the sanicleaner. But it was a sufficient excuse for me to leave 
and evaluate the situation. "Sorry guys, we'll have to continue this at 
another time," I said. I made a quick exit before I could hear more 
than a few of the bizarre comments aimed towards me.

	As I left I passed through several layers of security guarding 
the gamma operatives and went to the Column HQ's main elevator bank. As 
I stepped into the elevator I opened up my datapad and thumbed through 
my seldom-used Column handbook database.

	"Condition 42... listening devices on premises... Condition 43... 
intruder on Column grounds... Condition 44...' I almost dropped the 
pad. "Invasion." 

	The elevator doors opened. I headed for a conference room at a 
brisk pace, followed by Preston, a fellow agent.

	"What happened?" said Preston.

	"I guess the peace treaty didn't go quite as planned," I said 
grimly.

	We had almost reached the conference room when I was stopped by 
an urgent bleeping on my comm. I looked at it.

	"What is it?" said Preston.

	"The Chief wants to see me."

	"Now?"

	"I don't think there will be time later," I said.

	I went back to the elevator and went up to the executive suite. 
As the elevator climbed the more than 200 floors to the penthouse 
level, I tuned into the general Column frequency on my wrist comm. The 
broadcast was chilling.

	"-tracking has picked up a large Insect fleet on the outskirts of 
the August system. Nearly the entire fleet has been ambushed and 
destroyed at Vitalics. August is about to be imminently invaded. We 
must assume that our headquarters here is either insecure or won't be 
secure for much longer. We are purging our databases as we speak; you 
are all to go to ground and operate in small combat cells. Each cell 
will have one contact with an adjacent or higher cell. Although you may 
receive orders from above, you are to act semi-autonomously in small 
groups to harass the enemy, as well as gathering intelligence and 
commit acts of espionage and sabotage"

	The elevator doors opened to the top floor. The Chief's formal 
office. Rare sunlight streamed in through the large open windows.

	Security around the Chief had been quadrupled, with worried faced 
bodyguards eyeing me as he made his way into the Chief's office.

	R.M. Stanton had been Director of Column Operations for the past 
20 years, but was already quite old when he had taken the job. Since 
the anti-aging vaccination allowed one to appear to be any age, it was 
my conclusion that the Chief liked looking old.

	The Chief was sitting around a table with several shimmering 
figures who were talking. It was a holoconference, with the shimmering 
figures being holograms. In the offices of the holograms being 
projected to us, the Chief and I would look like holograms ourselves. I 
recognized several of holograms, including Vice President Novacan and 
Battle General Tenor Markov, who was in command of the August military 
district. Sitting next to the Chief, in the flesh, were five of the 
eight Level One agents in the Column.

	The Chief motioned for me to sit down.

	"What's happened?" I whispered.

	"The Insects are invading," said the Chief. "They've already 
taken several League planets."

	I was stunned. "What about the peace treaty? What about the 
fleet?"

	The fleet had been dispatched to neutral territory, the empty 
system of Vitalics, to sign the armistice with the Insects.

	"Apparently the fleet was destroyed at Vitalics," said Stanton.

	"The fleet? The entire fleet?" said Croft.

	"Yes," said Stanton.

	"That is merely a rumor which I would not appreciate your 
spreading," said the holographic image of Martin McPlease, the deputy 
secretary of foreign affairs.

	"Not a rumor," said the Chief. "War Admiral Norman North 
reported-"

	"-a rumor," said McPlease. "War Admiral Norman North was not at 
Vitalics. War Admiral Norman North does not know any more than we did 
what occurred there."

	The Vice President watched this exchange closely.

	"Don't you think it is odd that we cannot get in touch with the 
fleet?" said the Chief.

	"Not at all," said McPlease. "It was well known that the 
interference from the Vitalics pulsar would prevent long range 
communication."

	"But they were supposed to leave Vitalics and report in several 
hours ago," said the Chief. "And War Admiral Norman North's fleet was 
attacked by the Insects. That's a firsthand report, Mr. Secretary."

	"Perhaps it was a rogue element among the Insects, intended to 
sabotage the moderate faction's peace efforts-"

	An aide rushed up to Stanton and handed him a data pad.

	Vice President Novacan spoke for the first time. "What is it?"

	"Mr. Vice President, I have reports of Insect landings on four of 
our colony planets," said the Chief, rattling off their names.

	Novacan looked stunned. "Do you have confirmation?"

	"Confirmation? Are dozens of broadcasts screaming, 'We're under 
attack' confirmation enough?" said Stanton.

	"This is not a time for sarcasm," said the Vice President.

	"We must recall the fleet to defend us," said McPlease.

	"The fleet is destroyed," said General Markov.

	"All of it?" said McPlease.

	"Only one ship reported back from Vitalics," said Markov.

	"What of Admiral North's fleet?" said Markov.

	"I've already spoken to him," said Vice President Novacan, 
looking grim. "He refuses to come to our aid. He's mutinied, and run 
away."

	"He only has a few dozen ships under his command," said Markov. 
"Our outbound sensor net indicates an enormous fleet of several hundred 
ships heading this way."

	"Are there no other ships to recall?" said McPlease.

	Markov shook his head. "The President sent all our other ships to 
Vitalics. A 'show of peace and strength', remember, Mr. Secretary?"

	McPlease looked stunned.

	"We can have recriminations later, gentlemen," said the Vice 
President. "For now, we need a plan of action."

	"We can attempt to negotiate," said McPlease. "Perhaps this is a 
misunderstanding."

	"The destruction of our fleet and the invasion of our planets are 
a misunderstanding?" said the Chief.

	"Perhaps if we talk to them, find out what they want-"

	"Mr Vice President, I suggest you evacuate to a safer location," 
said the Chief.

	Safer location? I marveled at the statement. What could be 
considered safe now?

	"Nonsense," said Novacan. "Even if they are invading, it will 
take them some time to reach August."



	The image of August loomed large outside the windows of the 
Insect battleship.

	The throne room of the Insect Queen, Zsst, was full of chittering 
activity. It was from there, on her powerful flagship, that she 
monitored the invasion forces making their way throughout human 
occupied space.

	"Our occupation forces have made landings on several League and 
Directorate worlds. So far, we have faced little resistance," said an 
aide.

	"Excellent," said Queen Zsst, twitching her mandibles. She sat on 
her thrown, looking confident, for a bug. 

	Too confident, perhaps. She was reprimanded by a hooded being who 
stood in the shadows to her right. "Don't be so proud of yourself yet," 
he said.

	The aide took a step away from the hooded figure and shuddered. 
His name was Baraki. His name was more than most Insects wanted to know 
about him. Insects steered clear of him. Insects felt the stirrings of 
fear when walking in the same room with him; walking near him moved any 
Insect to outright panic. 

	Only the Queen appeared unruffled. Outwardly, at least. The Queen 
twisted an antenna towards him.

	Baraki spoke in a whispery, hissing voice. "You haven't landed on 
June. You haven't landed on August. And the Graftonites will be 
especially difficult to take."

	"Once we get past their feeble orbital defenses, June and August 
will be easy pickings," said Zsst dismissively, referring to the 
capitals of the Directorate and the League respectively. "Their 
civilian population, by all reports, are weak and sheeplike."

	"But they have military ground forces as well," Baraki reminded 
her. "And what of Grafton?" Grafton II, was a sparsely inhabited 
planet, but almost every person on the planet, to a man, was a superior 
gunman, with super fast reflexes that allowed Graftonites to be more 
lethal than their numbers let on.

	"I have dispatched my best insect troopers to take all three 
worlds. Not to worry," said Queen Zsst. "In a few hours our troops will 
land. And in a few hours after that we will begin to process every 
human pest on those planets."

	"We are now in standard orbit around August," said an Insect 
officer.

	"Excellent," said Zsst. "Begin the attack."



	August.

	August was... August.

August was the capital of the League of United Planets, and as the 
senior partner in the Alliance with the June Directorate, it was also 
the capital of the Alliance as well.

	It was a brilliant gem so perfect, so habitable, that it actually 
required little or no terraforming when it first had been settled, over 
1000 years earlier. With a warm climate over most of the planet, and 
forests teeming with wildlife, and hills filled with precious minerals, 
August was virtually a paradise. A paradise which the government 
immediately began destroying. 

	Once August became the capital of the League, the bureaucrats 
settled in, and as the bureaucracy expanded, so did their buildings. At 
first they started on the eastern coast of Concord, the western 
continent, covering up the soil with layers upon layers of metasteel 
and plastics and synthetic materials and tunnels and buildings and 
travel strips. The buildings became taller and taller and closer and 
closer together until they almost blotted out the sun; and when 
engineering feasibility made it impossible to go any farther up, they 
dug down, creating massive sublevels beneath the planet surface. This 
process started on the eastern coast, but quickly spread across 
Concord, until most of the entire continent was one big city. 

	Once pristine forests were cut, and rugged mountains were 
leveled, to make way for offices for bureaucrats and accompanying 
lobbyists and other parasites. When this spread started to reach the 
other end of the western continent, that the League actually did had 
the good sense to do the smart thing; they declared the eastern 
continent, Aridor, off-limits to development. And to this day the 
eastern continent is largely uninhabited, one of the largest national 
parks in the galaxy, visited by millions of tourists a year but 
rigorously kept undeveloped. Bureaucrats and politicians who felt 
trapped by the metal walls of the western continent became regular 
visitors to the natural valleys and mountain ranges of the eastern 
continent.

	Meanwhile, back on Concord, the western continent, development 
continued unchecked for centuries, and nearly three quarters of the 
continent was encased in steel towers and tunnels. Only on the 
periphery of the western continent did farmland and less developed 
areas still exist.

	The capital of August, and from which all power derived, was 
Sarney Sarittenden. Sarney Sarittenden was a collection of ornately 
designed towers and buildings, all made of an odd, glittering metal 
that defied precise description. Sometime one could look at the metal, 
and it would be a silver color; at other times, the metal would take on 
the colors of the rainbow. Although most of Sarney Sarittenden was 
enclosed, in the heart of the grand plaza was the outdoor thrown plaza, 
where important ceremonies of state were held.





	"Tracking sensors detect a large Insect fleet coming into orbit 
around August," said General Markov, listening to a report as he 
talked.

	"How?' said Novacan. "They couldn't have possibly gotten here 
from Vitalics so soon."

	"Sir, you must evacuate," said Markov.

	"Nonsense," said Markov. "How will I run the government if I 
leave?"

	"At least order the legislature to leave," said Markov.

	"We must stay united!" said Novacan. "The legislature should 
convene in emergency session to pass a resolution against-"

	"I've had enough of this," said Markov, suddenly interrupting. "I 
have to leave and coordinate the defenses."

	He appeared to get up from his chair and his holographic image 
disappeared.

	"General Markov? General Markov?" said Novacan. "I order you to 
return at once."

	"I second the General's recommendation," said the Chief, a little 
more diplomatically. "You must leave."

	"Why?" said Novacan.

	"You could be captured or killed?"

	"I'm the Vice President of the League," said Novacan, lifting his 
chin. "They wouldn't dare-"

	Suddenly, they heard a pounding in the background. The Chief 
turned a knob, and a widescreen scene of the door behind the Vice 
President appeared, just as the door was bashed open. Insect troopers 
baring blaster rifles smashed through. They brushed aside aides and 
headed straight for the Vice President.

	"I will not cooperate!" said the Vice President. "However, if you 
accord me with respect and dignity and assign me a protocol officer of 
appropriate rank, a dialogue between our peoples might be possible."

	An Insect trooper looked at the Vice President, as if listening. 
Then, making bzzz bzzz sounds, it looked down at some kind of datapad 
in its hand and compared it to Novacan.

	"Bzzz Bzzz!" said a fellow trooper.

	"Are you ready to begin negotiations in a civilized fashion?" 
said Novacan.

	The Insect trooper nodded to its companion and reached forward 
with a claw and decapitated Novacan in one swoop. The holographic head 
of the Vice President appeared to fall on the conference table.

	"Resequence to level two!" said the Chief sharply.

	The image of the other holograms faded for a moment and then 
reappeared, minus the connection to the Vice President's office.

	The Chief turned to an army colonel. "Where's General Markov?"

	"Coordinating the defenses, sir."

	"Have there been landings on August?" the Chief asked.

	The Colonel shook his head. "Their ships are still working their 
way into orbit."

	"Then what about the attack on the Vice President's office?"

	"It must have been an advance scout, a specialized command 
decapitation team," said the Colonel.

	Suddenly I saw a line of smoke streaking across the sky outside 
the Chief's window, and then we fell to the floor as an explosion 
rocked the capital.

	When the others and I got up we saw the holograms of the others 
were gone.

	The Chief and the other level one agents looked at each other. 
The Insects had hit the command center. 

	The Chief said, "We should try to reestablish-"

	"No time," I said. "We're likely to become a target next." I 
turned to the Chief's bodyguards. "Get him out of here!"

	They needed little encouragement, bustling the Chief out of the 
office...

	But not to the elevator. Up a flight of stairs to the roof. A 
bodyguard pressed a panel and a hidden part of the roof opened, 
revealing gravitator backpacks. I and the others each strapped 
ourselves into one. I had just taken off when I noticed a smoke plume, 
apparently heading towards the Column building. I twisted a knob to 
full power, and headed off.  I looked up and saw a huge smoke cloud. I 
had just reached the edge of a nearby building when the explosion went 
off.

	The initial force of the blast sent me careening against a nearby 
building, but, fortunately, out of direct line of site to the Column 
building behind him. I felt more than heard pieces of the Column 
building blowing up. I gunned my gravitator forward. Secondary 
explosions could be heard. In a few seconds there was another 
explosion, and buildings adjacent to the Column HQ building began to 
blow up. 

	Suddenly, I felt a thunk against my backback and I started to 
lose power--in fits and starts, the gravitator started to lose 
altitude. Power would be on for a few seconds, and then off, and then 
on again. I started to fall faster and faster as the periods of power 
grew shorter.

	I maneuvered closer to a nearby building and made a hard landing 
on a narrow ledge. I initially landed with my feet but the now dead 
weight of the gravitator hung to my back and I fell. I grasped the edge 
of the ledge but the combined weight was slowly prying my hands 
loose.... 

	Suddenly, the gravitator came on for a few seconds, and the 
weight on my back disappeared. I used that time to undo one of the 
shoulder straps, grabbing onto the ledge with only one hand.

	And then the power went off again, and I barely grabbed on with 
both hands. Again my grip started to fail...

	The gravitator came on again. I undid the second shoulder strap 
and hurried to the belt strap using one free hand. My arms were aching. 
If power failed again...

	I fumbled with the belt strap. It wouldn't open! Suddenly, it 
came off. Just as I opened the last strap, the power went dead again, 
and the gravitator fell off my back. I frantically grabbed with the 
ledge with my free hand.

	I hung there, for a few seconds, oblivious to the secondary 
explosions around me. Then I slowly, painfully, pulled myself up onto 
the ledge.

	I looked back where I had come from. All I saw was a swirling 
dust cloud. I tried my wrist comm.

	"Chief? Chief?"

	There was no answer. I reset it to another Column frequency. 
"Preston? Preston?"

	I waited. There was no reply either.

	Had the Chief made it? How many other agents had gotten out in 
time? There was no way to know.

	



	With the orbiting battlestations now nothing more exploding 
pieces scattered across the skyscape, the Insect battle transports 
moved in, flanked by their powerful battleships and other capital 
ships.

	Because every square inch of the central part of the western 
continent was studded with buildings and infrastructure, there were 
relatively few places that the Insects could safely land.

	Therefore, it was not entirely unexpected when the first wave 
touched down on the tarmac at Sarney Sarittenden Spaceport ("Triple S" 
to the locals). The huge landing craft opened up their bellies to 
disgorge their large troop transports and landing vehicles while Insect 
fighters flying overhead provided cover. Individual columns of Insect 
troopers emerged, giant seven feet tall creatures brandishing wicked 
looking laser rifles.

	But they didn't count on the reception. Battle General Tenor 
Markov had survived the initial attack and moved out into the field, 
giving orders even while in transit. Once he saw that he was making no 
headway with the Vice President he knew his own survival depended on 
getting out of the defense directorate, which would be one of the 
Insects first targets. Indeed, he had been in the building when the 
first attack hit, but many levels below the surface in hardened 
bunkers. From there he had made his escape with senior aides.

	General Markov stared out at the landing craft through 
electrobinoculars from his vantage point inside one of the spaceport's 
lounges. There weren't many ground troops stationed on August--after 
all, in the heart of the League, with its mighty fleet and orbiting 
battlestations to protect it, invasion was never thought of as a 
realistic possibility.

	But the impossible had suddenly become reality, and Markov had 
used the time afforded him by War Admiral North's warning to best 
advantage. 

	"Ground troops, attack.... now!" he said, speaking into his 
comlink.

	Troops sprang out of hiding and opened fire, cutting down some of 
the Insect troopers. Their laser fire merely bounced off the troop 
transports, and the Insects on foot took cover behind them as they 
slowly rolled forward.

	"Gravitators, move in!" Markov had only a single platoon of 
gravitator troops under his command, soldiers with anti-grav packs who 
could bounce in and over the scene. 45 troops zoomed into battle from 
the air, picking off Insect troopers hiding behind the ground 
transports.

	"Battle tanks, engage!"

	The snouts of concealed battle tanks emerged from hangers all 
around the field. One of them let go with a burst of laser fire that 
turned an Insect troop transport into scrap metal.



	

	High in orbit the Queen's handpicked being, Admiral Bzt, watched 
the landings on the holoscope.

	"We have strong resistance at the Sarney Sarittenden field and 
the two military fields here and here," said an aide, indicating a 
point on the holograph.

	"Resistance? These humans were supposed to be as passive as 
sheep!" Bzt spat. "Order our fighters to engage the ground forces.  And 
unleash the beasts."





	The circling fighters started to make dive attacks, scoring 
direct hits on the hangers the battletanks were hidden in. The 
battletanks weren't in direct line of sight of the fighters, but the 
hangers were easy targets. The Insects destroyed one hanger with a 
series of cluster bombs; several others were lasered and exploded under 
the combined attacks, forcing the surviving battletanks out into the 
open, where they were easier targets.

	General Markov had several anti aircraft units set up, and they 
downed several Insect fighters, until the Insects focused their fire on 
them, knocking them out. Markov gritted his teeth as he saw battletank 
after battletank knocked out; without air support, the situation was 
grim. 

	But at least the troops were dug in; the fighters tried to make 
strafing runs, but the troops were too well dispersed in deep, 
protected trenches around the spaceport.

	But then another Insect transport landed, and when its doors 
opened, a series of nightmares from a zoo emerged. Giant insects--bees, 
wasps, mosquitoes, and others Markov couldn't identify, each one as 
large as a ground car. They were all on leashes held by their Insect 
masters. In the distance Markov heard them bark a command, then the 
Insects dropped their leashes; he heard another barked command, and the 
giant insects flew forward.

	The troops saw them coming, but they came so rapidly, there 
wasn't much they could do about it. Several of the bees and wasps were 
shot down, in flight, dripping green fluid as they hit the ground; but 
many more reached the trenches where the troopers were, and the next 
thing Markov heard were the screams of his men over the radio.

	"Aaaaah!" one screamed as a giant stinger was implanted his 
chest, killing him. Another tried to resist a giant mosquito with his 
hands, but was pinned down as the monster stuck a giant tube in his 
neck and rapidly drained his blood. A giant warrior ant snapped the 
neck of another trooper.

	Markov saw his troops couldn't last long going hand to hand. 
"Recall! This is the recall order. Retreat, full retreat! Gravitator 
platoon, cover the troops in the trenches!"

	A few of the gravitator troop, who had taken the fewest 
casualties, swooped down from above and raked the giant insects with 
blaster fire, buying the surviving ground troops time to disengage. 
Some of the giant insects took flight to chase the gravitator troops, 
forcing a number of them to pull back.





	The image of the fleeing troops could be clearly seen on the 
Insect holoscope. "The landing area has been secured,' said the aide.

	"Excellent," said Admiral Bzt. "Commence the landing of the 
assimilators. Begin the processing of the human animals immediately."





	Large, oval shaped vehicles rumbled down the streets and 
causeways of August, flanked by Insect troopers. Screaming civilians 
ran in opposite directions, but were met on other streets by more of 
the oval shaped vehicles The shadows of Insect fighters and attack 
ships buzzed overhead.

	Sandra Layata, an unemployed pleasure seeker, like most of the 
population of August, screamed as she saw an Insect vehicle 
approaching. She tried to duck down a sidestreet, only to be stopped by 
a large, looming shadow above her. She heard a loud, buzzing sound and 
saw giant flapping wings supporting a yellow and gold body. Giant 
multiplexed eyes stared down at her as the monster descended.

	Running back out of the alley, Sandra ran right into the laser 
rifles of the Insect troopers.



	"This way, this way," they said through their translation 
devices. In reality they were making "buzz buzz" sounds, but the 
glowing device around their necks spoke in a dull female tone.

	Layata and a line of frightened civilians were herded up a ramp 
into the belly of one of the oval shaped vehicles. Then the processing 
began.

	They were herded into narrow corridors on the vehicle. The humans 
were warned to close their eyes just seconds before a spray of an 
unidentified liquid that smelled like pungent lemon came out from walls 
on their left and right. When the spray stopped Layata opened her eyes 
to see how drenched her clothes had gotten and was surprised to find 
her clothes in pieces. A water hose sprayed down on her from the 
ceiling and the remaining bits of her clothes fell into a vent or drain 
on the floor.

	Then the examination began. She was grabbed by the throat and 
strapped to a semi-horizontal table while she was poked and prodded 
with alien instruments. Something stabbed her arm and she felt blood 
being withdrawn. She tried to scream but a living hose snaked into her 
mouth and she felt something slimy feeling around her throat. She felt 
small, wirey things entering other parts of her body and tried to 
scream again, but it was cut off before it began, as the hose in her 
mouth stiffened. Even her eyes weren't left alone as a small screen 
descended to her bound head, showing different twinkling images. A 
monitor watched her eye movements as the images on the screen moved 
around. A sensor attached to her head monitored brainwaves while 
pictures of familiar objects--ground cars, buildings, ships, shoes--
flashed across the screen.

	Then all the hoses withdrew and the screen cleared away from 
Layata's face, and the living machines around her clicked as they 
evaluated her. She had this opportunity to turn her head left and right 
to see two other people bound to tables just like she was. The one on 
her left was an old man, and the one on her right was a young, 
strapping youth, both as nude as she was. Layata didn't have time to 
feel modest about her nudity because she was still in shock.

	Suddenly she heard a voice from the table on her right. 
"Designation: harvester labor." A device came out of a wall and sealed 
a green collar around the young man's throat. He screamed in pain as it 
was sealed. But Layata's attention was distracted by the man on the 
table to her right.

	"Designation: Useless. Recycle." The arms descended from the 
ceiling, and swish! swish! Swish! the old man was instantly 
dismembered, the table titled so his parts rolled into a bin. 

	Layata screamed, so she almost didn't hear the voice when it 
spoke from her table. "Designation: Genetic experimentation."

	A collar was wrapped around her neck; it burned as it was sealed, 
but Layata was already screaming at that point.

	When the processed humans emerged from the other end of the 
vehicle they were clad in tight green leafy clothing. Most bore the 
green collars of agricultural workers or the blue collars of factory 
workers. Sandra Layata, however, was wearing a purple collar, and was 
hustled off the vehicle by two Insect guards, who took her to a waiting 
shuttle.







Chapter 2: Enter the Silencer



	"Admiral Bzt reports the landings on August are proceeding 
apace," said Queen Zsst. "And we have reports of only scattered 
resistance to our landings on other planets. We are beginning to set up 
reproduction farms and hive factories on all of them."

	"You are on schedule," said Baraki approvingly from under his 
hood. "But what about Grafton?"

	"Our assault on Grafton II is to start within the hour," said 
Zsst. "I have assigned our very best battle troops there. I know how 
important that planet is, and how difficult the resistance will be."



	But if the Queen really knew how difficult the resistance would 
be on Grafton II, she would have at least quadrupled the size of her 
invasion force, and even that would've been no guarantee of success.

	Grafton II occupied no strategic location in space; it had no 
important military bases; it had no vital minerals; it wasn't even a 
formal member of the Directorate or the League. What it did have was 
very, very good gunfighters.

	After hundreds of years scientists still hadn't quite analyzed 
what it was, but something on Grafton speeded up the reflexes of the 
local population, making them extraordinarily quick. This made manual 
tasks and skills requiring dexterity much easier to accomplish; 
foremost among those, however, was gunfighting.

	Grafton II produced the most sought after soldiers, bodyguards, 
and killers in the galaxy. They simply could operate much more quickly 
than anyone else.

	For hundreds of years scientists tried to determine just what it 
was that speeded up the reflexes. It seemed that anyone who spent a few 
years on Grafton gained increased dexterity.  But once a Graftonite 
left the planet, his reflexes started to dull; if he had only been on 
Grafton for a few years, he would lose his abilities in months; if he 
had been there for decades, he would lose his abilities gradually over 
several years.

	That's why Graftonites were so reluctant to leave home and when 
they did so it was for short periods, when they were highly compensated 
for it. Scientists tried to figure out what speeded up their resources-
-they tried eating large amounts of Grafton food off-planet, but that 
didn't work; they tried drinking large amounts of Grafton rainwater, 
but that didn't work; they tried breathing large amounts of Grafton 
air, but that didn't work. If it was something in the food, or the 
water, or the air, somehow taking it off-planet nullified its effects.

	The effects of Grafton on its population didn't go unnoticed to 
the Insects. They were confident that in time they could isolate 
whatever was speeding up reflexes and instill this ability into all 
their Insect troopers; but for now they wanted to conquer the planet 
and set up breeding farms so at least new generations of Insect 
troopers bred locally would have this ability.

	That meant that Grafton had to be conquered, not destroyed. 
Without a space force of its own it would be easy enough to bombard the 
planet from orbit, but because the population was dispersed (besides 
the capital and two other smaller cities, most of the population was 
spread out over the countryside), this would have to be done the hard 
way, by ground assault.

	That's why Queen Zsst had allocated 4 brigades of her most 
fearsome Insect troopers, complete with two companies of giant insect 
beasts, to take the major population areas. Zsst expected some 
resistance at first, but once they had driven the humans out of the 
major population areas, she suspected the humans would be content to be 
left alone in the countryside. For now, Zsst didn't need the whole 
planet; hunting every human down over the sparsely populated surface 
area of the planet would be impractical; all she needed was just a 
large enough area for the breeding farms. Later, when they had enough 
of the new enhanced warriors, they could be sent on training missions 
to hunt and destroy the remaining humans.

	Zsst gave the orders for the landings to begin....



	"For the last time, I'm not interested," said the man in blue, in 
a dull tone.

	He had a name; actually, he had several names. But the one that 
stuck with him over time was related to his profession.

	He was one of the best gunfighters, even on Grafton II. His real 
name was John Norman.

	But everyone just called him the Silencer.

	"The Insects are attacking the League!" said his chief of staff.

	"Are they attacking this house?" the Silencer asked.

	"Not yet..."

	"Are they on the front lawn?" the Silencer asked.

	"Well, no..."

	"Has anyone offered to pay me to fight the buggers?" the Silencer 
inquired.

	"No..."

	"Then let'm eat cake," the Silencer concluded.

	After several hundred years of fighting, and killing, the 
Silencer was weary of it all. He turned his chair around to face the 
window. He and his wife had just finished decorating the house, and 
Annie had finally gotten the landscaping done exactly the way she liked 
it--with short, green bushes, with several lines of exotic, multi-
colored flowers on either side.

	"But they're attacking Grafton!"

	"As long as they don't enter my estate, they're welcome to the 
rest of the planet," said the Silencer generously.

	"But how will your wife get thru the blockade--"

	"Annie's not back for three days. I expect things will be sorted 
out by then, one way or another," said the Silencer. If he had to, he'd 
go up in his ship and meet her transport himself.

	Annie Oakley was his wife. For several hundred years he thought 
he'd never find a woman who'd make him feel anything... anything at 
all.  But then he met Annie, Annie Oakley. Not the name she had been 
born with, of course, any more than his was the Silencer. But that's 
who she was now, one of the fastest women gunfighters in the Alliance.

	Suddenly there was a beeping sound from his portable 
holoprojector. The Silencer let the device beep for a few seconds, 
thought about it, let it beep a few seconds more, and then very 
reluctantly pressed a button on the side of it.

	An image of a Graftonite appeared. "John, we need your help," 
said the man. It was his friend, Bob Range.

	"What is it?" said the Silencer.

	"The bugs are getting ready to invade."

	"So?"

	"We've got to band together to stop them."

	"Why?" the Silencer wanted to know.

	"Do you want Grafton to be overrun with those things?"

	"As long as they're not on my lawn-"

	"Don't give me your lawn speech!" Range snapped.

	The Silencer simply stared at Range.

	"Sorry," said Range. "But John, this is important, the alien 
ships are in orbit."

	"Wasn't the League supposed to do something or other about it?" 
The Silencer asked. He didn't follow politics very closely.

	"Yes, they're all dead."

	"All dead?" said the Silencer. His face showed a moderate amount 
of surprise, which was unusual.

	"The League fleet was ambushed at Vitalics. The League is being 
invaded too."

	"Hm," said the Silencer.

	"But the bugs have also sent a fleet here," said Range.

	"What do you want me to do about it?" the Silencer asked.

	"We're having a great gathering by holo. I want you to join in," 
Range said.

	The Silencer paused.

	"At least listen in! Even your presence can help sway people."

	The Silencer said nothing.

	"It won't cost anything, and it won't take much of your time," 
said Range, knowing how the Silencer's mind worked.

	"...all right," said the Silencer reluctantly.

	"Good," said Range. "I'm patching you in.

	The Silencer continued to see Range but could now hear the voices 
of many other Graftonites.

	"-we have to do something" someone was saying.

	"The Silencer has joined us," said Range.

	"The Silencer?" "The Silencer?" "The Silencer?" several voices 
said.

	"Are you going to help us fight the invaders?" said one voice.

	"No," said the Silencer.

	"Not yet," Range said, hastily amending the Silencer's statement.

	"But the bugs have invaded the west coast!" said another voice. 
"They've driven me out of my home!"

	"You have my sympathies," said the Silencer.

	"Aren't you going to help us fight them?"

	"How much will you pay?" said the Silencer.

	"Pay?" said the man. "Our planet is being invaded!"

	"Then it should be important enough for you to pay a considerable 
amount," said the Silencer.

	Suddenly, he heard the sound of a vehicle stopping outside. The 
Silencer looked out the windows.

	"Sir," said his chief of staff. "Alien invaders are entering the 
property."

	The Silencer nodded and lifted up the holoprojector and slowly 
went to the front door. He stepped out onto the front porch and calmly 
putting the holoprojector down, and surveyed the scene. 

	Two Insects were exiting some sort of scout craft. The Silencer 
heard buzzing sounds, and a second and third vehicle could be seen 
coming down the road.

	The Silencer calmly drew his blasters and shot them dead.

	"What was that?" said one of voices from the holotransmitter.

	"Nothing important," said the Silencer.

	Two more Insects from the first vehicle moved forward. The 
Silencer waited until they raised their weapons, and shot them dead 
too. He winced as they fell onto some of Annie's prized flowers. She 
wouldn't like that. Could he get his chief of staff to find replacement 
flowers so similar that Annie wouldn't notice the difference? He'd have 
to ask. The Silencer was beginning to hate this invasion. It was 
creating work for him.

	"That sounds like weapons fire," said a voice from the 
holoprojector.

	The second and third vehicles pulled up. They were flatbed 
gravtrucks, each containing a dozen or more Insect troopers.

	The Silencer casually shot them as they got off the truck. It got 
a little trickier when they started coming out of both trucks, and 
because of their numbers one or two actually got a shot off in his 
direction. But unfortunately he couldn't mask the sound of the gunfire.

	"John, what's going on?" that was Range's voice.

	"Just a moment," said the Silencer casually, still picking the 
Insects off. They were falling to the ground almost as fast as they 
could get off the transport. The Silencer, a blaster in each hand, 
aiming and firing in a blur, picked them off. Finally, when they 
stopped appearing, the Silencer frowned, hearing a buzzing sound. He 
walked around the end of the truck to see two Insects hiding in ambush. 
Even though they had their weapons aimed and ready the Silencer, with 
his Graftonite reflexes, was quicker, gunning both down before their 
claws could depress the trigger finger.

	The Silencer casually walked back to the holoprojector, ignoring 
the cries for information until he stood right beside the device.

	"It was nothing special," said the Silencer. "Just a few dozen of 
them."

	"They're attacking your home!" said Range. "Does this convince 
you?"

	"Pay me and we'll see," said the Silencer. "Even the bug 
exterminator gets paid; why shouldn't I?"

	While the Silencer continued to haggle over price, the Insects 
made their first mistake.



	Admiral Tstss stood on the bridge of her command ship. 
"Opposition?" she inquired.

	A subordinate being said, " No ships, no orbiting stations. But 
our initial combat probes haven't fared well."

	"What is their status?"

	"We've gained some ground, but we're having stiff resistance 
taking the Regular spaceport."

	Grafton didn't have much in the way of cities; its largest city, 
Regular, had one of the only two major spaceports on the planet. When 
the Insects landed there, the Graftonites who worked at the spaceport 
blasted them immediately.  It wasn't that the Graftonites were upset 
that the Insects were invading; rather, they were peeved that the 
Insects weren't paying landing fees. The spaceport, like everything 
else on Grafton, was owned by a private company whose job it was to 
make money. And anyone who didn't pay the arrival fee got shot. Even 
the Insects.

	So a few dozen spaceport employees gunned down two hundred Insect 
troopers. With their superior reflexes, it was hardly a significant 
chore for the Graftonites.

	"How many from our combat probe survived?" Admiral Tstss asked.

	"None sir."

	"None!" said the Admiral. "Well, we'll just have to soften them 
up. Prepare for orbital bombardment."

	That was the Admiral's first mistake.

	When the Insects opened fire on the spaceport, the spaceport 
employees retreated further into Regular. The Insects were able to 
land, but when they tried to get out of the spaceport, however, they 
encountered stiff resistance. That caused the Admiral to order the 
bombing of Regular itself.

	That only got the Graftonites even madder. Regular, as the 
largest city on Grafton II and a main transport hub, held many of the 
important warehouses and factories on the planet. It also was the home 
of many of the planet's largest corporations. In short a lot of 
property owned by a lot of Graftonites was being destroyed.

	This united the Graftonites like no invasion could. Thousands of 
Graftonites lost property or savings in the bombing. Thousands more 
lost access to consumer goods provided by these corporations. And these 
thousands had thousands of sympathetic friends and relatives. This 
united several hundred thousand Graftonites against the Insects.

	The Silencer was going to join the counterattack (he owned stock 
in several of the corporations that had been attacked) when his chief 
of staff came to him with an important message.

	"Sir!' said a servant. "I'm getting a faint transmission from 
your wife over the central comm unit. Please hurry!"

	The Silencer suddenly came alive, leaping over his desk and 
pressing the enable button on the comm unit.

	"John?" came her voice in a very staticy picture. "We're under 
attack. I don't know how long we have-"

	"Annie!" The Silencer yelled, raising his voice.

	The transmission broke up.

	"Annie!" The Silencer screamed again, smashing his hand against 
the wall near the console, creating a fist sized dent.

	His chief of staff bent down to pick up some plaster from the 
rug. When he stood up, he started to say, "Sir, will you be needing 
your ship-", but he was speaking to empty air.





	"Only one spacefighter eluded our blockade." Admiral Tstss's aide 
reported

	That sounded like a fine record of interdiction. "How many tried 
to breach the blockade?"

	The aide checked. "...only one, sir." 

	Oh well, Tstss thought,

	"What is the status of the main invasion force?"

	"They are launching now, sir."

	When the main invasion force started to descend, they were 
attacked by overwhelming force. Only some Graftonites owned 
starfighters, but nearly all Graftonites owned their own aircraft, 
which, given that this was Grafton, were nearly all armed. When the 
Insects tried to land their first large wave of transports, they were 
all shot down. 

	The Silencer, heading off-planet in his personal starfighter, 
didn't think anything of the naval blockade the Insects had established 
around Grafton--a bunch of capital ships and four squadrons of 
fighters. He didn't even bother to fire back when his fighter came 
under attack. But he was a Graftonite, and he adjusted his course and 
speed almost before the laser bolts hit; and not one of them came 
within 200 feet of his tiny, darting ship.

	Within moments he had passed the command ship on the perimeter 
and was gone.

	Two days of steady flying got him to the point where he 
calculated the convoy, four cargo ships and the passenger transport, 
were flying. He had no trouble finding the coordinates.

	But when he got there all he found was a field of debris.





	Meanwhile, the invasion of Grafton proceeded.

	Troop transports peeled off from the Insect fleet in orbit and 
slowly entered Grafton's atmosphere, escorted by a ring of Insect 
fighters.

	The fighters didn't help. The Graftonite atmospheric fighters 
shot down all the transports, and most of the fighters too.





* * * * * * * * * *



	"What? Totally destroyed! How?" Admiral Tstss demanded to know.

	"Fighters, from the surface."

	"Target the airfields they launched from!"

	There was a moment while the scanners were in play. "Sir, as far 
as we can tell, there were no fields they were launched from. These are 
vertical lift fighters that are scattered all over the countryside. 
They could lift from anywhere--a field, a barn, a road--anywhere. And 
when they're grounded they probably keep them under camouflage!"

	Admiral Tstss twitched. "Signal the entire fleet. We're going in 
again."

	"Admiral, we only have two squadrons of fighters left to defend 
the remaining transports. Are you sure?"

	'All capital ships are going in-atmosphere to cover the remaining 
transports on the way down," Tstss ordered. "What can a few hundred of 
those little fighters do to us?"

	All 27 ships in Admiral Tstss's task force started to descend 
into the planet's atmosphere. There were ten heavy transports filled 
with several brigades of troops, and 17 capital ships, ranging from 
three destroyers to two battleships, one of the Tstss's flagship.

	The ships slowly entered the atmosphere. As they entered the 
middle layers, the sensor being called out, 	"Attackers, on their 
way!"

	"How many?"

	There were a pause. "1000... 1,500... 1,800... over 2,000!"

	"Activate anti-fighter lasers!" Tstss ordered.

	The Graftonite fighters swarmed over the descending fleet. The 
battleships and heavy cruisers tried to use their bulk to defend the 
transports, but the fighters darted through the smallest spaces between 
ships to hit the troop transports, using not just lasers but missiles 
and heavy rockets.

	Tstss's laser batteries scored several hits, but most of the 
fighters were too fast and too elusive to be hit by capital ship laser 
fire.

	One by one the transports were hit and caught fire. Damage to the 
capital ships was minimal; Tstss's battleship was too heavily armored 
and shielded to be damaged by laser fire, or even small missile 
impacts; but some of the smaller ships didn't fare as well--one of the 
frigates blew up, scattering pieces that hit the other ship. A 
destroyer lost its drive section and went crashing into the planet.

	When they had gotten halfway to the surface Tstss realized it was 
hopeless. They had already lost seven transports and there was no way 
the remaining three would survive.

	"Retreat to orbit!" she ordered.

	The remaining three transports were destroyed long before they 
reached orbit, and then the fighters turned on Tstss's battleship, 
scoring hits and minor breaches. By the time they reached orbit all the 
smaller ships--destroyers, frigates, and troop transports--were gone. 
25,000 fighting creatures had been destroyed, and the enemy had taken 
almost no casualties.

	"Inform the fleet of our situation and signal for 
reinforcements," said Tstss. At a minimum, of course, she would be 
relieved of command; probably her wings would be plucked and her would 
be beheaded in disgrace as well.  Tstss sat back limply in her command 
chair to await her fate.



	Admiral Tstss's fate was decided a more quickly than she thought. 
She had expected reinforcements, and her replacement, to arrive in a 
week; but it was only a little over four days later before her command 
ended.

	"Human fighter approaching, from outside our perimeter." 

	What did it matter? Tstss's command was over. Let the fighter go 
where it wanted. Tstss didn't have any fighters left to intercept it 
anyway.

	"Admiral?"

	"Let it go," she said wearily.

	"But Admiral, it's headed straight for us!"

	"What?" Tstss sat up in her chair for the first time in two days. 
The fighter was indeed  heading straight for her command ship. Was it 
attempting a suicide run? A fighter that small?

	"Activate laser guns," said Tstss.

	Shots from the lasers never came near the bobbing and weaving 
ship, even as it got closer to his command ship. It looked like it was 
about to ram, and then... it disappeared off the screens altogether.

	"Where did it go?" Tstss asked. Even if a ship that small had 
rammed them, they should have felt something.

	"Sir... It's in our landing bay!"

	What? "It crashed in the landing bay?" Was it a suicide attacker? 
If so, why hadn't they felt the impact?

	"Sir, it landed in the landing bay!"

	They were being boarded? By a one-man ship? "Security to the 
landing bay!"

	Tstss waited impatiently while several minutes went by. 

	"Well?"

	"Security isn't reporting in from the landing bay," said her 
aide. "In fact, I can't get anybody to report from the landing bay."

	"Get me a vid of the landing bay."

	Tstss stared at the image of the single seat fighters. The 
cockpit was open, and the fighter was empty. What about his security 
beings? She panned down, and saw the bodies. More than 10 of them.

	"Security alert! We have intruders aboard!" said Tstss. "How many 
humans can that ship hold?"

	"I think... only one, sir.". 

	"One did all this damage?" Tstss was incredulous.

	Then came another report. "Sir, we have reports of gunfire in 
Section 4!"

	"Send more security!" Tstss ordered.

	"Now we're getting reports of gunfire in the adjacent Section 3!"

	Tstss turned on that section's monitor. He saw one man in blue, 
calmly blasting away. His troopers fired at the man, but the human 
always seemed to dodge out of the way just in time. His shots, by 
contrast, never missed. Who was this man? What did he want? Then Tstss 
realized where he was going. To the bridge. Here.

	Tstss turned to the two burly bridge guards. "Burn anything that 
comes through that door!" The guards turned their rifles on the doors.

	They didn't have to wait long. The door opened, a blaster and a 
hand darted in, the doorway was raked with fire, and just as suddenly 
the blaster hand was gone.

	Then, in a move almost too quick to see, someone rolled into the 
room as quick as a flash. The figure flashed its gun once, then twice, 
and both guards fell; then the gun flashed several more times, and 
everything in the room was still.

	Tstss looked around. Everyone in the room was dead now except 
her, and the intruder in blue.

	"You the bug in charge?" the man asked casually.

	"Who are you?" Tstss asked, the translator around his neck 
interpreting for him.

	"You the bug in charge?" the man asked, and something in his cold 
tone inspired Tstss to respond.

	"I am Admiral Tstss," Tstss said.

	"Who is your immediate superior, and where can I find him?"

	Tstss remained silent.

	The Silencer burned a hole through one of Tstss's walking legs. 
She hollered in pain.

	"Who is your immediate superior, and where can I find it?"

	Admiral Tstss's leg started to leak green fluid. She started to 
feel faint, but, fearing even more pain, she said, "Admiral Bzt..."

	"Where can I find this creature?"

	"August..." Tstss looked up at the Silencer. "Why are you doing 
this...?"

	"You killed my wife," said the Silencer. And in the second it 
took for him to raise his blaster and pull the trigger, Tstss wondered, 
since his force had inflicted virtually no casualties on Grafton, what 
this human was talking about....





* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *





	"Levi!  Levi!" 

	Levi Esherkol, former chief technology specialist for the 
supersecret spy organization known as the Column, and now the owner of 
the best (and only) restaurant in Gateway National Park on Aridor, the 
mostly uninhabited eastern continent of August, hummed a simple tune to 
himself as he stirred some meat in a pan. 

	Levi had spent much of his adult life working for the Column, 
designing miniaturized devices for use by its agents. He had branched 
out from electronics into computers, biology, chemistry, and other 
fields. Levi had no formal education; but he could just pick up a 
subject, and, if he were interested, learn it quickly. After a number 
of years of service, he retired to do the one thing he really wanted to 
do: run a restaurant. The Column occasionally persuaded him to come out 
of retirement to do discrete jobs for them, when the need was vital; 
after one particular important assignment, the Column, very much in his 
debt, gave him the one thing he always wanted: a concession to operate 
the only restaurant in Gateway National Park. The rest of the 
continent, except for the guesting area on the western tip, was totally 
undeveloped forests and mountains.

	Levi stabbed a sizzling piece of meat with a fork as if to sample 
it when his wife, Mindy, entered the basement where he had been 
working.

	"Levi, it's happened, turn on the holonews," she said, turning on 
an ancient dusty device in the corner of the room.

	"Eh?" said Levi, sampling a bit of the meat. An excellent cattle 
mutation, very flavorful, he realized. But it needed a bit more pepper.

	The holographic announcer appeared in their basement. "-even as 
we speak our orbital battlestations are under attack. General Tenor 
Markov has declared martial law and ordered all civilians to stay in 
their homes-"

	"Levi, the Insects are coming, what are we going to do?"

	Levi motioned for her to come over. "Keep stirring for about five 
minutes more under low flame"

	"That's it! You want me to cook your food! Levi, what else can we 
do?"

	" Add another pinch of pepper, about two minutes in." He said, 
reaching for his jacket.

	Even as she grabbed the stirring fork she said, "Levi, where are 
you going?"

	"I have to take quick trip to Western continent," said Levi, in 
his trademark old easteuro accent.

	"Levi, it's too dangerous! What are you going for?"

"I need go shopping for some meat," explained Esherkol.





Meanwhile, back on Concord, August's heavily populated and developed 
continent, the Insects had taken over but hadn't yet wiped out all 
pockets of resistance.

	An army corporal eyed a target in the rangefinder. It was an 
administrative building on the edge of the August spaceport. The 
Insects had converted it into a barracks for one of their warrior 
platoons. The corporal, lying on his belly in a now deserted building 
across the street, grumbled, "I don't get it."

	The sergeant, lying next to him, said, "Don't ask me."

"We're invaded and there are swarms of these things coming down all 
over the place," said the corporal. "And what does the general tell us 
to do. Attack an arsenal? Commit acts of sabotage? Ambush a convoy?"

	"No," the corporal continued. "We're to attack a barracks unit. 
Around lunchtime. Their lunchtime. We're to get the body of an Insect 
who's just started to eat lunch. And we're also to capture the rest of 
his uneaten lunch. I mean, what sort of crazyness is that? No wonder we 
got invaded."

	"If you think that's crazy, what did you think of that weird 
looking guy standing next to the General during the briefing?" said the 
Sergeant.

	"You mean, the guy wearing the hood, the mask, and the long cape? 
Very inconspicuous," said the corporal. "Must be some sort of higher-up 
in the resistance who needs to keep his identity a secret."

	"Either that, or a nut," opined the Sergeant. He saw a flash to 
his right. "That's the signal. Let's do it."

	General Markov's troops assaulted the edge of the spaceport from 
three sides. Most of the Insect troops had dispersed throughout the 
city, leaving only a company on defensive duty. And half of those were 
eating lunch now.

	Two of Markov's companies pinned down the defenders while the 
third moved in, penetrating the barracks and shooting their way in. The 
corporal reached the entrance to the barracks and ducked his head 
through the door. A split second after he pulled his head back, a 
barrage of laser fire blasted where his head had been.

	"Lunchtime, eh?" said the corporal. "I hope they like their eggs 
scrambled," he added, as he tossed a grenade in and hit the ground.

	After the resulting explosion, and a moment of silence, the 
corporal and his squad darted into the barracks, one by one. Insect 
bodies oozing green blood could be found everywhere.

	"Let's take that one, it's bound to be lighter," said the 
corporal, pointing to an Insect corpse on the ground that was missing 
its lower half.

	"They want an intact corpse, one that was clearly eating," said 
the sergeant. He pointed to another that lay sprawled over its food. 
"Take that one, lads!"

	It took four of them just to carry it out of the barracks. The 
Insects were really heavy. As his men carried the body out, the 
sergeant scooped up the contents of a meal tray and put it in a plastic 
bag he had brought with him. Then he followed his men out, all the 
while ducking the fierce laser crossfire.

	A few minutes later the attackers faded away. The Insect officer 
in charge was a little surprised that they hadn't tried to penetrate 
more deeply into the spaceport--none of their ships or cargos were 
harmed. It concluded, incorrectly, that the attack had been repulsed 
successfully.





	They were met at the rendezvous point by a strange looking fellow 
whose features were hidden by a mask, a cape, and a hood. He supervised 
the body being loaded onto a gravlifter and took the lunch bag from the 
sergeant. "Good, is very good," he said. Then, before he left, he 
handed a bag to the sergeant. "For your men." And then he was gone.

	The sergeant slowly opened up the bag, not knowing what to 
expect. Inside the irresistible aroma of soft, crispy rolls struck him 
like a brick. The taste, if possible, was even more delicious; each 
soldier got half a roll, wishing for more; when the lieutenant heard 
about it, he pulled rank to get some too.

	As they were eating, they noticed a shuttle taking off from an 
adjacent building. It hugged the tops of the buildings as it sped off, 
trying to stay below enemy sensors. "I don't know who that  guy was," 
said the sergeant. "But he sure was one good cook!"





* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *





	The Insects roamed the cities in brigades, but as they covered 
more ground the brigades broke up into battalions, the battalions into 
companies, the companies into platoons, and finally the platoons into 
squads.

	One element of one such squad happened to wander into the 
quarters of one of August's few extraterrestrials, Professor Capybara.

	He wasn't a professor, and he wasn't a capybara, but that's what 
everyone called him, partially because he looked almost exactly like a 
capybara--beige, strawlike fur, four legs with webbed toes, and the 
flat, wide snout of a real capybara--and partially because he wore what 
looked like spectacles (but weren't) on the end of his snout.

	Whatever the reality of it, he didn't mind being called that, and 
no one really seemed to know what his or his race's real name was, so 
everyone called him Professor Capybara. He was one of the very first 
non-humanoid lifeforms encountered in the galaxy, and, fortunately, he 
had turned out to be a friendly one. Vague on his origins and the 
location of his race, it was unclear if he was one of a kind, or if 
there were planets full of Capybaras somewhere in the galaxy.

	To most high officials he granted an audience to, he was simply 
Professor Capybara, speaking in a low, reassuring voice, making little 
"tweatle tweatle" sounds as he talked.

	An Insect trooper entered the passageway into Professor 
Capybara's study, where the good Professor was curled up with a good 
data pad on his couch. A small pile of peanuts lay by him. As the 
Insect watched the Professor absentmindedly put one in his mouth, 
making loud munch-much sounds as his jaws moved horizontally.

	The Insect paused for a moment, as if trying to digest what it 
saw there. Then it made a loud buzzing noise, the equivalent of, "Hey, 
come here!" to its mates.

	Two other Insect troopers, rifles on guard, quickly joined in. 
The Professor, as if not hearing, didn't even bother to look up, but 
continued chewing. He liked peanuts that had been exposed to open air 
for a number of days; they were softer, chewier, and tastier too.

	"You!" barked the first Insect, speaking through its translator 
now.

	Professor Capybara looked up, looking mild-mannered through his 
spectacles that weren't really spectacles.

	"What are one of you doing here?" said the Insect, as if a 
capybara wearing spectacles chewing on peanuts in a tastefully 
furnished apartment was the last thing it expected to find in a living 
quarters on August.

	"Reading," said the Professor.

	The Insects their rifles. "I will get a great reward for your 
capture," said the first Insect. Reward indeed! It might even get an 
award from the governor-general herself, or, perhaps, even permission 
to breed.

	Professor Capybara sighed, putting down his datapad, as the 
troopers approached.

	A series of inhuman screams could be heard coming from the room. 
Then, just as suddenly, they cut off. The rest of the Insect squad, 
patrolling nearby, rushed into the study.

	Three Insect bodies were splattered against the walls of the 
study, crushed so severely that gallons of green blood oozed out from 
them, dripping on the finely tailored carpet.

	Of the Capybara, there was no sign.







Chapter 3: A Cook Takes Action



	"We are encountering minor, scattered resistance, but all 
essential facilities are firmly in our hands" said an aide.

	"Good," said Queen Zsst, studying the holographic data stream 
containing latest reports. As ordered, her units were taking root 
everywhere but on the grounds of the capital itself.

	The palace. 

	Sarney Sarittenden. 

	Now was the time to do something she had waited years for. 
"Gunner! Lock weapons on Sarney Sarittenden. Lock all missiles and 
energy torpedoes!"

	"Weapons... locked...."

	Her intelligence being spoke up. "Queen, don't you think we 
should wait until we examine-"

	"I have waited for this moment for over 20 years. Destroy the 
human capital now. FIRE!"

	Missiles spat out of the Queen's flagship, missiles big enough to 
destroy a cruiser with one hit. They sped down into the atmosphere, on 
an ark that would prevent them from burning up before impact. They sped 
down, and hit... precisely on the Throne Plaza itself, ground zero.  
There was a tremendous explosion, and a fireball filled their screens; 
and that fireball was amplified by other fireballs, and more missiles 
struck.

	Queen Zsst watched with satisfaction. Finally, after all these 
years, the symbol of the Alliance had been destroyed. Her satisfaction, 
however, was short lived, as the explosions cleared, and she saw... the 
towers and spires of Sarney Sarittenden... without a scratch on them!

	How could this be? "Fire energy torpedoes!" the Queen cried.

	They fired, slamming into the planet more quickly than the 
missiles. More fireballs filled the screen; some of it washed over onto 
the immediate area around Sarney Sarittenden; but when the explosions 
died down, she saw the impossible; the buildings weren't even 
scratched. Some of the civilian buildings on the border of the palace 
had been leveled by the attack; but all the structures in the palace 
proper, Sarney Sarittenden itself, were untouched. How was this 
possible?

	"You fool!" 

	The Queen jerked her head up to see Baraki entering. Her 
mandibles chittered a bit.

	"What are you doing?" said Baraki.

	"We are destroying the symbol of the human resistance," said 
Queen Zsst.

	"You are meddling in things you DO NOT understand," said Baraki. 
"Cease this immediately!"

	The Queen really had no choice; she couldn't have destroyed the 
place even if she had wanted to. But how had the palace survived such a 
devastating attack?

	"What do you know about this place?"

	"That is not for you to ask," Baraki snapped. The Queen recoiled; 
she hadn't seem him this angry before. He stomped out without saying a 
word.



	All was quiet in the Queen's chamber for a moment, except the hum 
of electrical control panels. But then, there came an announcement from 
an underling.

	"Queen, we are picking up a signal beacon from the surface!" 
stated a comm insect. 

	"A beacon?" said Zsst. "I thought all communications facilities 
were in our hands."

	"We thought so; this must be a small portable generator."

	"Who can they possibly be hailing? Track their transmission!"

	"The beacon is hailing... us!" said the comm insect.

	"Is it one of our units?" said Zsst, a little confused. 

	"No... it is from a human!"

	"A human?" This was odd indeed. Could it be one of those pesky 
diplomats who wanted to negotiate? Zsst thought she had already 
liquidated all of those.

	"So it appears, but the signal is definitely directed at us" said 
the comm insect, listening to the pulsing sound. "That's it, the same 
signal, over and over."

	"What does the signal say?"

	"It says... come at once. I have something of great value for 
you," said the comm insect.

	"It sounds like a trap," said a strategy insect.

	"Probably," said the Queen. "Where exactly is this signal coming 
from?"

	"The eastern continent."

	"I thought the eastern continent was unpopulated?" said Zsst.

	"That's what we were told. There are certainly no large scale 
dwelling or industrial structures there," said the strategy insect.

	The Queen considered. "Send a full combat team to investigate."





	"Levi! Levi!"

	Levi Esherkol, fussing with meat on the grill, at first didn't 
hear her. But then he did hear the engines of the attack transport 
touching down near his home. In the quarry, probably.

	"Levi! The monsters are here!" shrieked Mindy. She ran inside, a 
look of fright on her features.

	"Oh, all right," said Levi, untying his apron and taking off his 
chef's hat. If only he had twenty more minutes!

	"Levi, what do we do?" she said, trembling.

	Levi pointed to the range. "Keep flipping them every five 
minutes. When they start to turn black on the outsides, turn down the 
temperature." He scooped up a bowl of something and headed out the 
door.





	A squad of heavily armed seven foot tall warrior insect units 
were already disembarked from their ship. Their weapons were scanning, 
bobbing all about, but several of them trained on Levi as he 
approached, openly carrying only the bowl in his hands.

	The human was unarmed. Civilian. Therefore capture, not 
annihilation, was in order. For now.

	"Human. You will service us," one of them said through its 
flashing translator device, It pointed its gun barrel at Levi with one 
arm and lifted him painfully by his throat with another. A third arm 
reached up and secured a control collar around Levi's throat, which 
sealed with a click.

	"Oh, uh, yes," croaked Levi, rasping through his sore throat as 
he dangled painfully in the air. Then he was cruelly dropped to the 
ground. As he dropped he  barely managed to avoid dropping the bowl he 
carried.

	"Report to the transport for reassignment-" said the Insect, 
stopping in midsentence. For it had started sniffing. The aroma coming 
from the bowl was strong, very strong...for an Insect, that is. A human 
wouldn't have noticed the smell, but the concoction in the bowl was 
designed to give off a very appealing smell. Appealing for Insects, 
that is.

	"What... is that?" came the harsh but flat voice through the 
translator.

	"This?" said Levi, looking at the bowl of brown goo as if 
noticing it for the first time. "Just some insect food. I entomologist, 
I study insects and I just going to feed... say, you descended from 
insects, no? I suppose you might to give it a try...?"

	Normally, there was no way the Insect was going to accept food 
from a human; it could, after all, be poisoned. But the smell was so 
overpowering... for a human, it was the equivalent to the smell of 
steaks, frying over a charcoal grill, with a smattering of hickory 
chips to give it that special smell... but the scent was even more 
overpowering for the Insects, who were even more sensitive to smells 
than humans.

	The Insect called over one of its junior hatchlings. "Try this," 
it ordered.

	The junior hatching did, without needing to be prompted again; it 
liked the irresistible smell too. When the hatchling took a tentative 
taste, and then another, and then another, it wasn't long before the 
entire squad was digging out of the bowl and licking the sides of it.

	"I have some more of it in house" said Levi. He paused, as if 
considering something. "You know, it's shame I going to be common 
slave. I make very good food for insects, no?"



	Queen Zsst, in her ship in orbit around August, dipped one of her 
claws into the bowl again. "It is good," she hissed. "Very good, in 
fact. Very well, bring it in."

	Levi Esherkol, wearing a collar around his neck and manacles 
around his hand, was brought into her command chamber, looking mighty 
small and alone as he was flanked by seven foot tall Insect guards. He 
was actually only the second human to get this far; the first, the 
human League President Mitterand, hadn't fared very well.

	"I am told, human, that you made this food that is pleasing to 
us," rasped the Queen.

	"That? Oh, that was nothing," said Levi, with a shrug. "A quick 
snack. With proper tools and equipment, I could do much better."

	"What do you mean?" the Queen asked.

	"Well, it a science, see? At least, for humans it is," said Levi. 
"Tell you what; you give me access to lab, and I cook up some food you 
really like!"

	The Queen buzzed for a moment. She didn't think humans had any 
other uses besides manual labor, but she had never met the likes of 
Levi Esherkol before. If the human could produce pleasing food, why 
not? She could always terminate him if she grew bored or displeased. 
"Very well," said the Queen, raising an arm to dismiss him.

	"Ah, just one minute," said Levi. "You haven't heard my 
conditions."

	"Conditions?" said the Queen, standing up in her high chair, 
towering over the poor Levi.

	"Requests, then," said Levi, taking a step back, and trembling.

	The Queen sat down, hiding her amusement. "State them."

	"One: that you leave my wife out of this. You will need her on 
our farm, on August, to produce much of the food I will need to prepare 
for you."

	The Queen nodded. That seemed reasonable enough. "Continue."

	"Two: That I have a fully stocked lab, and one or two of your... 
associates to experiment on."

	A human, experimenting on an Insect?

	If Levi couldn't interpret the Queen's expression he was able to 
make a good guess as to what she was thinking. "To test new recipes, I 
mean," said Levi hastily. "I wouldn't want you to try a new recipe 
until I had tested it on your underlings, right? If I didn't, I might 
come up with something you might not like, and what would happen to me 
then?"

	"You would be executed," said the Queen. She shifted about, 
appearing to grow bored.

	"Final condition!" said Levi, sensing her restlessness. "Leave 
the Eastern continent free from development."

	"Development?"

	"You know, mining, manufacturing-"

	"Unacceptable," said the Queen flatly.

	"Well," said Levi, swallowing hard, "How about just protecting 
two or three locations from development?"

	"Name them."

	Levi gave her the name and spatial locations of a certain rock 
formation, a certain forest, a certain waterfalls, and two other 
locations.

	"I will consider your requests," said the Queen. Levi opened his 
mouth to say something more, but she cut him off, "Take him away." And 
he was dragged off.

	"Shall I have the human executed?" said an underling.

	"No," said the Queen. "It amuses me. But first scan the locations 
the human seeks to have off-limit for development. Look in particular 
for any signs of hidden human installations. Then report back to me."



	The report came back a few hours later. Orbital scans, aerial 
overflights, and even landings by ground troops had found nothing 
suspicious in any of those locations--simply varied arrangements of 
trees, rocks, and water. Neither the Queen nor her underlings realized 
these were the most highly protected natural treasures on August. But 
they didn't have an eye for natural beauty.

	"These humans are strange," said the Queen. "Tell the human its 
terms are accepted, for now. We will see how long it proves 
amusing...."







Chapter 4: The Silencer Comes to August



	The Insect ships patrolling in orbit around August tracked the 
small fighter that streaked past their orbital blockade towards the 
planet; but though they trained their lasers on it, it was too quick 
for them, streaking in-atmosphere even as their orbital fighters set 
course to engage it.

	Landing was another matter; once it set down, they would quickly 
locate and destroy it. Then a decision was made not to destroy but to 
capture and interrogate the pilot. The Insects wanted more information 
about this individual who could slip through their net so easily.

	The fighter settled in a clearing near a set of low hills on the 
outskirts of the Sarney Sarittenden, in a small (and very rare) public 
spot: a city park. But the ship's landing also attracted the attention 
of others.





Clifford Croft's perspective:



	"See that?" I said, squinting with his electrobinoculars.

	"See what?" said Gantry, one of the Column members he had teamed 
up with.

	When I had gathered my wits I had linked up with other surviving 
Column operatives and we operated as a small guerrilla force, moving 
around the capital while harassing the bugs wherever we could.

	"A spacefighter," I said. "It looks like it landed a bit to the 
west."

	"How do we know it wasn't an Insect ship?" asked Jenna, another 
Column team member.

	I shook my head. "It  looked like one of ours." Hoisting up my 
backpack, I said, "Let's go."

	Gantry groaned as he lifted a long, bulky bag. "But today is 
Sniper Monday!" Gantry was the "caddie"; he was in charge of lugging 
the special rifles in their protective carrying case.

	"We can shoot some Insects later. Someone might need our help."

	"The landing site will probably be crawling with Insects. Why are 
we taking such a big risk to help one pilot?" said another teammember, 
Collen.

	I took a breath. "All right, we're not going there to help 
whoever's there; we're going there to find out what the pilot knows. 
Once we finish interrogating him we can turn him over to the Insects, 
satisfied?"

	It was funny what a difference a few weeks of scavenging could 
make. Most of the population of August had been interned in forced 
labor camps. But a few scavengers and resistance fighters survived. 
Some of them were soldiers, and others were Column teams, like the one 
I led. As I was widely known to be one of the Eight, my leadership of 
the group was never questioned, even if my decisions constantly were.



	We tried as best they could to hurry, but we also had to evade 
Insect patrols. But when we arrived at the park it seemed  the Insects 
had gotten there first. In the distance we saw the fighter, the exhaust 
still smoking, as it lay neatly parked by a lake, and they could 
faintly see Insects around it. The Insects didn't seem to be moving.

	"Neat landing," Gantry commented, peering at the ship in the dim 
light. "Whoever did that must've been one great pilot, even with 
repulserlifts."

	But then as we cautiously snuck closer they saw another detail... 
the Insects we had seen from the distance were all lying on the ground, 
unmoving. In fact the lawn around the ship was oozing with green, 
coming from their bodies. Dead bodies. All dead, at least 20 of them. 
What had happened here?

	The ship was a one-seater, maybe a two seater at most. Could one 
or two people have gunned so many Insects down?

	And then I saw the figure, leaning against the side of his ship, 
whistling a sad tune, his hand reflexively drawing, holstering, and 
redrawing his gun at a rapid pace.

	"Is this a crazy man?" Gantry hissed, as the others and I peered 
at the guy through the bushes.

	Realizing the sound of his voice might carry, I hit the ground, 
pushing Gantry down as I motioned him to be silent. But the warning 
almost came too late; right after they dropped, an energy bolt scored 
right where Gantry had been standing.

	"I... see... you...." came the voice, as it stopped whistling and 
started humming. The humming also sounded sad. But that voice! That 
voice sounded familiar, kind of.

	I raised my electrobinoculars, as I lay prone on the ground. Then 
I caught the gunman square in his visual sites... and also caught the 
end of the man's pistol, pointing straight at his binoculars. "Wait!" I 
yelled at the top of my voice.

	The man didn't fire, so it must have worked.

	"We're human!" I yelled again.

	The man seemed to have known it from the start, but he wanted to 
give them a hard time. "Prove it," he said.

	I slowly started to get up, but Gantry pulled on me. "Croft, he's 
obviously mad!"

	"Oh, most definitely mad," I said. "But probably not at us." I 
realized that the man could have shot them dead several times by now, 
even at this distance.

	I stood up, with my hands raised, and slowly walked closer, 
seeing more clearly now the man I expected to see.

	The Silencer.



	The Silencer had his gun drawn and pointed at me. "Croft?" he 
said, lowering it a few inches.

	I nodded. "Can I lower my hands now?"

	The Silencer nodded. "You can tell your guys in the bushes there, 
there, and there..." he pointed with his pistol, "To relax. They are 
with you, right?"

	I nodded again.

	They approached his ship. "How did you get here?" Gantry asked.

	The Silencer made a deprecating expression on his face and 
pointed to his ship.

	"I mean, who are you? What are you doing here?" Gantry asked.

	"No time for that," I said. "We've got to get you out of here, 
it's not safe-"

	The gun whirled out of the Silencer's holster and two bolts were 
fired. On the far side of the lake, two approaching Insects fell to the 
ground, one of them screeching as it was shot.

	"I know, it's not safe," said the Silencer. Then, purely as an 
afterthought, "You'd better go."

	"If you stay here more and more will come, and they'll kill you," 
I said. 

	"I know," said the Silencer, standing his ground. He slowly 
turned his head, looking for potential targets.

	"What's this all about?" I said. "You don't usually kill unless 
you're paid for it." Then, looking at the Silencer's face, and thinking 
about his actions, I understood. "Where's Annie?" I asked.

	The Silencer's face was granite. He said nothing. But that said 
everything.

	A squad of Insects burst into view. My people raised their 
weapons, but before they could fire, it was all over. The Silencer 
momentarily lowered his weapon.

	"This isn't the answer, John," I said. "Sooner or later they'll 
come at you with armored vehicles, or shoot you from the air."

	"Yes."

	"Don't you want to live?"

	The Silencer shrugged. Then, uncharacteristically, he added, "I 
just want to kill as many of these creatures as I can."

	"That's not what Annie would've wanted," I said. That got me a 
glare, and for a moment, I felt a wave of fear. I licked my lips, and 
tried a different tact. "These Insects didn't kill Annie, John. It's 
their leaders, they're the ones who gave the orders."

	"I know, I killed one of them," said the Silencer. "I'd like to 
get some of the others, but I don't know where to find them." The 
Silencer's gun shot out again, and two more Insects fell. In the 
distance the sound of a motorized vehicle could be heard. Time was 
running out.

	"Some of them are on August! And working with us, we can help you 
get them!" I said.

	For the first time, I felt that something that he was saying to 
the Silencer was finally having some effect.

	Several mechanized vehicles broke into the clearing on the other 
side of the lake. They were brimming with troops.

	"That will take time," said the Silencer.

	"In the meantime, you can kill some Insects with us, have some 
fun, paint the town... just think, you can kill more if you come with 
us and live, than if you simply stay here and get shot."

	"I don't know," said the Silencer. "I think I can kill an awful 
lot more before they get me."

	"Come with us, you'll kill even more in the long run!"

	The Silencer considered how many he could kill with each option, 
as the vehicles closed into effective range.

	"Are you promising me I'll be able to kill a lot, I mean a real 
large number of them?"

	"That's a promise!"

	Something clicked in the Silencer's head, and he briefly nodded.

	When the Insect ground transports cleared the far side of the 
lake, all they found was an abandoned fighter. One of the Insect 
troopers, inspecting the cockpit, found a stick pressed against one of 
the controls. The trooper removed the stick... and the ship exploded, 
taking two of the groundtracks and more than a dozen Insects with it.

	When the sound of the explosion carried a quarter mile to the 
south, a small smile broke out on the Silencer's lips. But only for a 
moment.





* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



From the personal log of Clifford Croft, one month after the invasion 
of August:



	We brought the Silencer back to one of our hideouts in August. If 
you're an outsider reading this (how did you crack my datapad 
encryption code?) you may wonder what I mean by that. Where on August? 
Well, since Concord, the western continent, is basically one big city, 
we just refer to it all as August (except for Sarney Sarittenden, of 
course). Oh, there are still some farms in the outlying provinces, and 
Aridor, the entire eastern continent, is undeveloped (mental note to 
self: whatever happened to Levi?). But, to put it simply, August is 
August.

	In the past I've kept a log to chronicle my missions, but this 
time it had a special meaning to me. We're slowly getting picked off 
one by one, and chances are that we won't survive much longer. There's 
no air cavalry waiting to come over the horizon to save us. Our fleet 
has been destroyed and we're trapped here, on our own.

	If you know anything about me or my past, you may think that this 
situation should be familiar to me. After all, I've spent most of my 
life as an infiltrator, hiding around in a society that would imprison 
or execute me (or worse) if they got their hands on me. While that's 
true, this is different. Whenever I went on a mission, I always knew 
there was a home, somewhere, where I could go in safety once the 
mission was over. Only now there is no safe home to return to, and 
there will be no end to the mission. This occupation could last dozens 
of years, or hundreds of years, or longer. Our only hope is to try to 
wear the Insects down, and it's a slim hope. We can hurt the Insects, 
but there are only a few Column teams out there, and in the big scheme 
of things we can't stop an army; that's not what we were trained for.

	The Silencer has been plenty quiet since we brought him in. 
Preston and the others think it's because of his grief over Annie. Only 
I, who has known the Silencer for a long time, know better--the 
Silencer ALWAYS keeps to himself. I could never get him to talk much 
under normal circumstances. I wonder if and how Annie ever got him to 
talk?

	Did I mention that I found Preston? He was one of the survivors 
of the attack on the Column HQ building. We found him and Collen 
skulking around in the underground a few weeks ago. I still don't know 
what happened to the Chief or many of the others. 

	Anyhow, we have to continue to stay active. But each time we go 
out on a mission there's a chance that one (or more) of us won't come 
back. We lost Fletch last week and Dorim the week before. We're down to 
seven Column operatives in this group... seven operatives, and the 
Silencer.





	"Good mooooorning, August!" I boomed, entering the common room, 
giving a strategic toe kick to the forms lying on makeshift bedding of 
foam packing.

	I was met with groans from barely awake operatives. I had 
appointed myself morale officer; I was keenly aware that without 
morale, or at least some agitation, this bunch would become little more 
useful than an unruly mob.

	"Go away," said Jenna, covering her head with a pillow.

	"Good morning!" I boomed again. "The sun is shining, the birds 
are chirping-"

	"We're on sublevel 17a, and we don't know or care whether there's 
sunlight on the surface," said Gantry.

	"And there hasn't been a bird seen on the western continent in 
decades," Jenna added, moaning slightly as she woke up some more.

	Good. At least I was getting their attention. "It's time to start 
our day! While Preston here serves you a delicious breakfast of protein 
concentrate and distilled water, it's time to consult our favorite 
fortune telling device, the activity planner!"

	This had been my pet idea, like everything else that was the 
slightest bit creative in our little organization. I turned to indicate 
a giant off-white plastiform wheel shaped object behind me, part of a 
stabilizer from an Insect shuttle. We had liberated the stabilizer 
covertly from a shuttle parked at the Sarney Sarittenden spaceport, 
confident that our theft wouldn't be discovered until the shuttle was 
used again. (Sure enough, the very next day when the shuttle was next 
used, there was a loud explosion at the spaceport and a smoking hole in 
the ground not far from where the shuttle had been).

	The wheel was divided up into a number of sectors, each of which 
had a word painted along the edge, such as  "SNIPER", "ASSASSINATION", 
and "ESPIONAGE", "SPYING, "SEARCH FOR PROFESSOR CAPYBARA" (where did 
that large furry rat go?), and "SHOPPING". A giant pointer (actually, 
the burned rifle barrel of an Insect gun) was in the middle of the 
wheel, where it could be conveniently spun.

	After several weeks of going on the same missions, over and over, 
we had decided to introduce some variety by making a game out of it. 
Well, ok, actually it had been my idea. But things had gotten so boring 
through repetition.

	"Who would like the honor of spinning the wheel today?"

	I was met by groans in response.

	"Very well," I said, taking that as permission to spin myself. I 
took a grip on the pointer, and gave a wild spin.

	The pointer spun around and around, only slowing down a bit after 
three laps. It really started to run out of energy around the 
"Professor Capybara", leading me to believe that we were destined to 
spend another fruitless day searching for that spectacled rodent, but 
then the pointer landed on "INTELLIGENCE GATHERING".

	"Well well well," I said. "And so our agenda is set."

	More groans.

	And so today became Intelligence Gathering Tuesday. Actually, we 
didn't end up gathering that much intelligence about the Insects; but 
we did learn a lot about the Silencer.





	While doing a routine reconnaissance a few days earlier (last 
Thursday being a Recon Thursday), we had noticed some unusual activity 
coming in and out one of the tall skyscrapers just a few blocks away 
from our hideout (once we came out on the surface). 

	We had entered an adjacent building across the street that was 
empty and had taken the elevator up a few floors. Then we had looked 
across the way at the other building; and, seeing no activity, we went 
up a few floors more.

	On the 44th floor we had seen something interesting, through the 
windows across the way into the other building. It looked like some 
sort of Insect command post, with consoles set up throughout the floor 
that were manned by Insect technicians. Crouching down on the floor, we 
caught the images through our electrobinoculars. At the time we merely 
took note of the location of this command post, and I filed this 
information away for later use.

	Today I decided that now was the time to take advantage of this 
information.

	"If we can sneak in to the building and climb up to the 43rd 
floor, we might be able to tap into an access cable on the 44th and get 
into their network," I said. "The only tricky part will be getting into 
the stairwell, but maybe if we try going underground...."

	"Unacceptable."

	I turned around to see the Silencer. It was always surprising 
just to hear him speak.

	"But that's the safest way-"

	"How many Insects will die this way?" the Silencer asked.

	I considered. "Well, if we're lucky there might be one or two in 
the stairwell."

	"Unacceptable," said the Silencer.

	"Listen, Silencer, or whatever you call yourself," said Jenna. 
"You may no longer care about your own personal safety, but some of us 
here want to remain alive for a while longer. If you want to go in 
through the front, guns blazing, by all means, but go by yourself. But 
otherwise keep quiet and follow our lead."

	A muscle twitched in the Silencer's cheek. I held my breath. No 
one talked to the Silencer that way. At least, I had never heard anyone 
talk to him that way and live much longer after that. But the Silencer 
simply stared at Jenna, with a cold, deadly stare. She matched his gaze 
for a moment, then she looked suddenly away, looking flustered.

	"Right," I said, stepping between the two (facing the Silencer, 
purely as a precautionary measure). "To the stairwell."

	We took the elevator down to the ground floor and then we started 
down to the stairwell leading under the planet surface. But when I 
reached the entrance to the underground, I turned around and noticed 
something.

	The Silencer was gone.

	We ran to the entrance of the building we were in, giving us an 
unobstructed view of the Silencer walking calmly to the building across 
the street. Four Insect troopers were on guard, all armed with laser 
rifles. They watched the Silencer as he walked up to them. Maybe they 
didn't shoot him on sight because his gun was holstered; or maybe they 
didn't shoot because the sight of this single, grim human slowly 
walking to them was not like anything they had ever seen. Humans 
cowering in fear? Yes. Humans running away from them? Yes? Even humans 
firing on them? Yes. But a single human walking up to them? No.

	Either way, they all had the sense to at least point their rifles 
at him when he got close. "Halt!" one of them said through its glowing 
translator device, located on its chest. "What are you doing here, 
human?"

	"I'm here to steal information from your command center 
upstairs," said the Silencer.

	This took a second or two to penetrate. During that time the wind 
howled, a glint of sunlight glistened off the Silencer's eyes, and a 
note of alarm planted itself in the minds of the Insects. They raised 
their rifles ever slightly, finger claws tightening about their 
triggers....

	And in that split second there was a streak of motion and three, 
no, four discharges. All I saw, from across the street, was a blaze of 
motion, the light of blaster fire, and then, when I blinked again, the 
Silencer's gun was back in its holster, and four Insects were slumped 
on the ground.

	My little gang and I cautiously ran up to the Silencer. There 
seemed to be no other immediate resistance.

	"Why did you do that for?" I asked.

	The Silencer shrugged microscopically. "She invited me to go in 
with guns blazing," he said, indicating Jenna.

	We went inside. There were two more guards at reception, but they 
barely had time to see us, much less react, before a blaster bolt aimed 
at each sent them crashing to the ground.

	"Are you going to let us do any of the firing?" I inquired.

	"If you're quick enough," said the Silencer.

	"I saw you shoot three blaster bolts," said Gantry. "What was the 
third for, did you miss?"

	The Silencer nodded to the ceiling, where the blasted remains of 
a vidmonitor could be seen. "If I got it quickly enough, they may just 
think it's a malfunction."

	"And if you didn't?"

	"Then they'll be waiting for us."

	We entered the elevator, after first checking to see that there 
were no monitors in there. The Silencer pressed a button, and up we 
went.... to the local Insect command center. Why should we worry? We 
had the Silencer with us.



	When the elevator doors opened, two Insects who were waiting at 
the entrance to the elevator sprayed the interior with laser fire the 
minute the doors opened. After a few seconds of spraying the elevator 
they stopped firing, realizing something.

	The elevator was empty.

	The Insect troopers turned to look at each other, and at that 
moment the Silencer and I dropped down from the top hatch of the 
elevator. Before the bugs realized what was happening, they were dead.

	The Silencer took five steps out of the elevator, which was 
sufficient to put most of the floor in his view. He fired nonstop, a 
blaster in each hand, while our operatives emerged from the stairwell 
and opened fire as well.

	In a matter of seconds almost two dozen Insects were dead. The 
Silencer walked calmly down the rows of consoles, shooting 
occasionally; he didn't seem the slightest bit concerned about stray 
insect guards or insect technicians who might be hiding.

	In moments it was over. I went over to what looked like a 
database interface terminal, but was dismayed when I saw a ragged 
blaster hole through the control circuits. "Now we'll never be able to 
log in!" I said. I turned to the Silencer, who was standing idly by, 
bored, perhaps, that he no longer had any ready targets. "Look what 
you've done!"

	The Silencer looked past my shoulder, and inspected the jagged 
hole. "That's not from my blaster," he said, as if he could tell.

	"This is what we get for going in with guns blazing," said Jenna, 
glaring at the Silencer. I sensed those two might have some trouble 
getting along.

	The Silencer shrugged. "If you didn't want the equipment damaged, 
you should've left all the shooting to me."

	"You?" said Preston. "Against two or three dozen Insects?"

	"Yes," said the Silencer simply.

	Intelligence Gathering Tuesday ended on a sour note.

	

	The next morning we spun the wheel, and it turned out to be 
Sniper Wednesday. That was good. That's something we could all share 
and enjoy together, including the Silencer. But as we gathered for our 
mission I introduced the Silencer to another team tradition.

	"Place your bets," I said, pointing to a board which bore all our 
names (and the Silencer's, newly added to the board).

	"I'll bet one ration on the Silencer," said Gantry.

	"I'll bet a ration on the Silencer too," said Preston.

	"What is this?" said the Silencer.

	I cleared my throat. "We have a competition, a gambling bet, to 
see who will come back from a dangerous mission. We each bet on the 
teammember we think is likeliest to survive that particular day; if 
they win, they get an extra half-ration."

	But then everyone made it clear they were voting for the same 
person--the Silencer. His tactics might have been only short of insane, 
but everyone had seen his Graftonite reflexes in action. 

	Since everyone was betting on the same guy, we couldn't really 
wager effectively, so we had to cancel this aspect of our gaming. Well, 
at least we still had the activity wheel to play with. And today the 
activity wheel said we were going to sniper kill some bugs, and that 
cheered me up a bit.

	I think sniping was everyone's favorite activity on the wheel. I 
know that everyone was already bored with searching for Professor 
Capybara (should we remove him from the wheel?), and most of the other 
sort of commando operations we performed were starting to get 
monotonous from sheer repetition, but there was nothing like a good day 
of sniping to raise morale.

	Sniping would be real fun. No one ever got bored of sniping. We 
were going to have a great time.

	I couldn't have been more wrong.



	Preston fetched the rifles, and Jenna brought the cammo tarp, all 
rolled up in a tight bundle. It was as if we were going on an outing, 
or on a picnic. Well we were going on an outing all right, but the 
outing we had in mind was a half mile off the surface of the planet!

	We took the elevators up to the roof of one of the tallest 
buildings on August, the Regulation Building, and Preston unpacked the 
equipment while Jenna spread out the cammo tarp and the rest of us 
started looking off the rooftop--north, south, east, west, to find the 
best view. The winds whipped by us and the hot morning sun shined down 
on us. What a great day!

	"Report," I said.

	"A squad down the block to the west," said one operative.

	"A command post backed up by heavy armor on the east," said 
another.

	"A few stragglers on the south," said a third.

	"A troop convoy on the north," reported a fourth.

	"A troop convoy, perfect!" I said. "Just what the sniper ordered! 
Preston?"

	Preston finished unpacking and assembling three Column laser 
sniper rifles with special long range scopes. Only the scopes weren't 
the only thing special about these rifles. The laser projector inside 
produced a special kind of light not viewable in the visible spectrum. 
The problem with most sniper lasers is that after the first or second 
shot the path of the laser bolt would give away the sniper's location. 
But since the beam was invisible, the sniper's location could remain 
hidden for longer periods of time, especially if the sniper was 
shooting from long distances.

	We had had merry times sniping all over August the past few 
weeks, picking off Insects troopers, watching the rest scurry away on 
their malformed legs. It was great fun, really, and this time shouldn't 
have been any different.

	The only problem was that we only had three rifles, and the 
customary fight broke out about who would get to snipe first. 

	"Hey!" I said. "We're running out of time. That troop convoy is 
on the move. The Silencer will take one, Preston will take another, and 
I'll take the third."

	"Hey! You got to shoot first last time!"

	"When you're one of the Eight, you'll get to decide who shoots 
first," I said. "Now get under cover. We all got down under the cammo 
tarp, so that only our heads stuck out. It was a little bit hot under 
it, but well worth it; the cammo tarp automatically assumed the color 
of the surrounding rooftop, protecting us from prying eyes, if any came 
up this high.

	I located an Insect trooper on the scope, a driver of one of the 
vehicles. I started to squeeze the trigger. "Ready... Aim...."

	And suddenly, in my sights, the trooper jerked backwards, and the 
vehicle skidded to the side and rammed a building. Someone must have 
fired first. And I didn't need to guess who.

	After that it was a veritable shooting gallery, where we 
attempted to pick off all the targets who were now scurrying across the 
thoroughfares. Although they could see the approximate direction of 
attack, they had no way of spotting our exact location, nearly a mile 
away.

	Gantry mumbled something about wanting a turn and I knew that it 
was about time to switch. Before I could start dealing with the problem 
of how to persuade the Silencer to let someone else take a turn with 
his rifle, I heard a dull rumbling which pushed all other thoughts out 
of my mind.

	I knew what that sound was. "Cease fire!" I hissed. "And get your 
heads and rifles under the tarp!" Everyone did, just before an 
ascending flying fortress appeared above the top of the building.

	At least, it was the Insect equivalent of a flying fortress, a 
heavily armed gravitator platform, about 10 feet wide and 40 feet long, 
with heavy guns mounted on it every few feet, each manned by an Insect 
trooper. I peered out at the gravitator through a tiny hole at the end 
of the cammo tarp.

	The gravitator hung in the air above us for a few seconds. Could 
it have located us so quickly? I thought not. And yet the gravitator 
hung there. I suddenly felt a shiver down our spine. The cammo tarp 
assumed the color and consistency of the surface around it 
automatically; the rooftop should appear empty to them. But if they 
somehow detected us... we would be easy targets.

	"Jenna," I hissed, getting a sudden thought. "Can this thing 
withstand heat scans and infrared?"

	She paused a moment. "I think so," she said.

	It was at that moment that she shifted an arm to scratch her 
nose, and the thought immediately flashed through  my head: motion 
detectors. But the thought came almost too late.

	Somehow the Silencer was already up and running even as the first 
laser bolt singed the tarp. Did an unknown hunter's instinct protect 
him? Or would that be a prey's instinct?

	I didn't have much time to think philosophically about it, as I 
and everyone else was running for the stairs that would take us all off 
the roof. Laser fire burst thick around us and we all ran for it 
without even trying to fire back; well, almost all of us; the Silencer, 
reaching the stairwell first, was on bent knee, rapidly firing several 
potshots, before a returning volley forced him inside.

	We dashed down the single flight of stairs which took us to the 
elevator shaft. I noticed that some of us were missing but didn't have 
time to count faces because a deep, deep rumbling sound could be heard, 
a rumbling so deep that it shook the stairwell. We couldn't see it at 
the time, but later hypothesized that a spaceship, a cruiser, maybe, 
had snuck up against the building. And a cruiser's lasers could 
demolish a civilian building in seconds. I guess they had taken our 
weeks of sniping a little more seriously than I thought they would.

	"Jump!" I said unnecessarily, leaping into the open shaft, as I 
was followed by my companions. A few seconds into our fall the top 
levels of the building were turned into a fireball as turbolasers 
blasted the area. The concussion from the shock almost pushed Preston 
into a wall, but he steadied himself, straightening his descent. We 
continued to fall, trying to outrun the flames above us.

	It was just a few moments later that we saw explosions again, but 
this time even closer; this time the Insects were blasting a giant hole 
in the middle of the building, just a few dozen feet above where we 
were falling seconds earlier. They were methodically destroying the 
building! Would we get to the bottom before they destroyed the entire 
structure?

	I watched the ground below steadily approached. While we couldn't 
increase our speed of descent, it was time to start worrying about 
decreasing our speed. The buildings generators were located in the 
basement, but if feedback or the shockwave from the explosion knocked 
them out....

	The bottom closed quickly and I eyed the rapidly approaching 
ground with horror. And then, just as I thought that we weren't going 
to slow down, I felt myself suddenly braking rapidly. In seconds I 
landed gently on my feet.

	As everyone knows, all elevators on August were powered by 
gravitational fields and projected force beams; all we did was disable 
the elevator car and put the shaft in test mode. This was SOP whenever 
we needed a quick getaway from a rooftop.

	We quickly slunk back to one of our hideaways, but I didn't have 
to wait until we got there to count the missing: Jenna, and two of our 
other operatives. Three people dead on what should have been one of our 
least dangerous missions!

	"They were expecting us," I said, gritting my teeth.

	"Expecting us, how?" said Gantry. "Do you think one of us-"

	"Gantry, I picked the building myself at the last minute, even if 
we had a traitor among us, they had nothing to tell," I said. "No, they 
were expecting us because we always did the same thing. Sniping from a 
tall rooftop. Do the same thing enough times and they'll prepare for 
it. There are only a finite number of rooftops that have a commanding 
view over the city. It's probably taken them several tries to catch us 
like this," I fumed. I blamed myself, personally; this was supposed to 
be a fun distraction, from the normal life and death missions we went 
on. Instead, we had our worst casualties yet. 

	"Did anyone see any of the others who are missing?" I asked.

	No one said anything. Then Gantry gulped.

	"Gantry?"

	Gantry shook his head.

	"What?"

	"As... as I got out of the cammo tarp, for a moment, I passed 
over Jenna's body, just for an instant," he said. "She... had a burning 
hole in her forehead."

	I didn't say anything else. There were only four of us left now, 
five if you counted the Silencer. I wondered what he was thinking. He 
didn't volunteer any thoughts.

	Suddenly, the who-will-survive sweepstakes didn't seem so funny 
anymore. Before the next morning, I quietly took down the board 
containing our names.





Chapter 5:  Fire & Applause



From the personal log of Clifford Croft, five months after the 
invasion:



	We acted more cautiously after that, deciding to take things easy 
for a while. But taking it easy isn't easy; just sitting around, doing 
nothing, drives all of us stir crazy. Even the Silencer. I can see it 
in his eyes. He just sits there, quickdrawing, and reholstering, 
quickdrawing and reholstering, over and over again.

	It must have irritated Jenkins, one of our surviving operatives, 
for he looked at the Silencer and opened his mouth, as if to ask him to 
stop. But the Silencer gave him a cold stare, and Jenkins simply closed 
his mouth and looked away.

	After a few days we had to go out, if only to go shopping. Our 
food supplies were limited, and we had to periodically raid storage 
centers for more. The storage centers and the routes leading to them 
were often guarded by the Insects, of course.

	We sneaked across one of the underground stripways. August had as 
many as 50 interior levels in some areas, and each level stretched for 
miles, much to our advantage. The Insects didn't have the trooper force 
to station soldiers on all levels. But they did have frequent patrols; 
it wasn't often we could sneak from one area to another without at 
least seeing a patrol. I tried to crack into the city's internal 
security system to see where the patrols were, but while I could break 
into the system, I couldn't figure out how to access and target the 
scanners. The system had been designed to be used by police 
bureaucrats, and so far I had been unable to crack the very unfriendly 
user interface.

	I thought I had the route to the nearest storage area memorized, 
but we must have turned a wrong corner, because suddenly we were in 
unfamiliar territory. Keep in mind that it was very easy to get  lost 
in an underground this size; but at least, in earlier times, there 
would be people traveling through that one could get directions from, 
or electronic wall panels to consult. Now the underground was virtually 
empty, as most people had been rounded up and the few that hadn't been 
were in hiding. The only one to ask directions of were the patrols, and 
somehow I didn't think they'd be very forthcoming.

	We heard a patrol coming our way and we quickly ducked into a 
side passage.

	Wrong turn again. It was a dead end.

	We heard the clop clop of the Insect feet coming our way. It 
sounded like a LOT of them. Some of their patrols had only two or three 
of them, but this sounded like at least a dozen. And in seconds they 
would turn the corner and see us.

	We all had our weapons out, even the Silencer. I suppose with the 
Silencer with us we shouldn't have worried, but we were boxed in a 
narrow corridor, and it would be difficult for the Insects to miss when 
the shooting started. Unless the Silencer could get them all first. 
Could he?

	We never found out because the Insects stopped, just short of 
turning the corner. I heard them buzzing to each other in their own 
language, but had no idea what they were saying. Then, one of them made 
a loud buzzing sound, a warning sound, and I heard sudden movement, and 
then the corridor lit up. That's right, it lit up, as if there were a 
fire in it. But we heard no explosion, we just saw the lights of a 
fire, and the screams of the Insects. One of them, screaming rapidly, 
turned the corner and ran towards us. We could see it was on fire and 
desperately trying to rub against the wall to put the flames out. It 
came close to us and fell to the ground just feet from the Silencer, 
who still hadn't fired a shot. I think, for once, that he had been as 
surprised as we were.

	Then there was silence and the fires died down.

	"That's about all of them," I heard a high pitched, almost 
little-girl voice say.

	And then I heard a clapping sound, also around the corner, as if 
someone had offered applause.

	My people gripped their guns more tightly. But for me, fear 
evolved into cautious recognition. "Stay here," I hissed. I didn't want 
any misunderstandings.

	I slowly edged my way around the corner, to see charred bodies 
under a low flame, and an expressionless young woman with reddish hair 
looking at me. Even as she stared I noticed her hair turning back to 
blonde.

	"Sally?" I said.

	"Who are you?" she said, peering in the gloom. "Come forward 
slowly, or I'll turn you into a candle."

	"No need," I said quickly, stepping forward so she could see me.

	"Oh," said Sally, when I came closer. "It's you," she said, 
sounding disappointed.

	"Croft!" Clap! "Croft!" Clap!

	I turned around and knew who I would see before I saw him. The 
Clapper. A powerful telekinetic. 

	"It's ok," I called, raising my voice slightly.

	My people came around the corner, gripping their guns. Preston 
knew who they were, but Gentry and Jenkins probably didn't. The 
Silencer, oddly enough, had met both operatives before, on a mission on 
Grafton II where, as I'm sure no one remembered now, I had saved the 
galaxy from an invasion of the Graftonites. 

	"People, meet Sally Ravanal, aka Red Sally, and Robert Clerk, aka 
the Clapper."

	Clap! Clap! Clap!

	Gentry and Jenkins looked at me quizzically, as if more 
explanation was needed.

	"They're high level operatives from Gamma Section," I said. 
"She's a top level fire starter, and he's a middling range 
telekinetic."

	"Telekinetic!" Clap! "Telekinetic!" Clap!

	"Who has a tendency to clap," I added. "What are you two doing 
here? I thought the Column shipped you people out just before the 
invasion began."

	Gamma section contained all the Column's mentalics; a hasty, but 
correct decision had been made to ship them out just before the bugs 
landed; they were too valuable to waste in street fighting. I guessed 
rather than knew that most had escaped in time. What were these two 
still doing here?

	"I decided to stay and fight," said the Clapper nervously. He 
clapped twice.

	Red Sally gave him a look.

	"We decided to stay," the Clapper corrected himself.

	Red Sally gave him another look, a more dangerous one.

	The Clapper gulped. "She decided to stay," he said, in a small 
voice.

	"Why?" I asked. "You were ordered-"

	"I'm not going to let myself get kicked off my home planet 
because of a bunch of giant mosquitoes," said Red Sally. "I decided to 
stay and fight."

	"And you?" I said, turning to the Clapper.

	"Sally... Sally told me to stay," he said, nodding his head.

	"I see," I said.

	"I hate to interrupt this reunion, but we're asking for trouble 
if we stick around here," said Preston.

	We beat a hasty retreat back to our base.

	

	It was really good to have some of the Gammas on our side. But 
the flip side is that they were undisciplined, especially Red Sally. 
The first night they had problems falling asleep, due to the Clapper's 
near-constant clapping, and we were all rudely awoken early in the 
morning, due to Red Sally.

	It all started after dinner, when we were getting ready for bed. 
The Clapper, eyeing the foam packaging we had laid out for him, started 
to clap nervously, slowly. It was a clap every twenty seconds or so, 
but it was still frequent enough to get our attention.

	"Doesn't he have any way of turning that off?" Preston asked.

	Red Sally said, "Believe me, I've been resisting burning his 
hands off for ages."

	I said, "He only claps when he's nervous, or upset, or fearful, 
or...."

	"Or what?"

	"Or if he's bored, or if the weather isn't right," I added. I 
went to the Clapper. "What's wrong?"

	"Nothing," he said, vigorously nodding his head.

	"C'mon, I see you're clapping... tell Clifford what's bothering 
you...."

	"Bedding..." he said, nodding his head slowly as he studiously 
avoided eye contact.

	"What about it? You have to realize we don't have real beds here-
"

	"Bedding!" he shrieked.

	Everyone looked up for a moment.

	"Lower your voice," I said. "Do you want to attract a patrol?" 
Our little hideaway, formerly a spacious utility closet, was fairly 
remote from the major passageway, but loud voices could still be heard 
from it.

	"Bedding," he said, softly. "Bedding in the corner of the room, 
I'm used to my bedding in the corner of the room."

	"Your bedding is in the corner of the room."

	".... the corner of the room closest to the door, closet to the 
door, it has to be in the corner closest to the door..."

	I looked around. The Silencer was lying on a pile of bedding in 
the corner closest to the door. He couldn't possibly be asleep so soon, 
but I wasn't quite ready to test that theory so quickly. I didn't think 
he'd appreciate doing a public service for the rest of us by moving to 
make the Clapper happy..

	"What difference does it make? A corner's a corner," I said. Then 
I remembered how he didn't like the shape of our drinking glasses at 
dinner, and had spent most of the dinner slowly clapping about that. I 
shuddered; was he going to do this all night?

	"Corner closest to door," he said dully, slowly clapping in pace.

	I sighed and went over to the Silencer. His eyes were closed, but 
he couldn't be sleeping with all this talking and clapping going on, 
could he? When I crouched down by him, his eyes immediately flew open, 
and I saw the muscles in his right arm jump minutely. He looked at me 
with irritation, as if weighing whether I'd be worth a blaster bolt.

	I cleared my throat. "Um, John, I was wondering if I could ask 
you a small favor."

	The Silencer continued to look irritated. He wasn't going to make 
this easy for me.

	"The Clapper... he's used to sleeping in this corner."

	The Silencer glared at me.

	"I mean no, obviously, he's never slept in this corner before, 
but in his previous hideout, he always slept in the corner closest to 
the door. It's a nervous habit, see? So I was wondering if you'd mind 
trading places with him."

	The Silencer said nothing.

	"John? Would you be willing to move? To help the group?"

	The Silencer considered for a moment. Then he spoke a word, the 
only word he would say that night. "No," he said, closing his eyes.

	"John? John?" I said. I decided against shaking him. Obviously, 
this discussion was over.

	"Sorry, I tried," I said, seeing the disappointment in the 
Clapper's face.

	We settled down for the night. I tried to ignore the periodic 
clapping sound. One could even count numbers to it. 1... 2... 3.. 4... 
5... 6... 7.. 8... 9... 10... Clap. 1... 2... 3.. 4... 5... 6... 7.. 
8... 9... 10... Clap. 

	This went on for several minutes. Then I heard a sudden rustling 
around me, and a startled squeal. Instantly I opened my eyes, 
instinctively grabbing my gun.

	The Silencer was bent over the Clapper, but before I could move 
forward the Silencer had already moved away, and I could see the 
Clapper, hands outstretched, bound securely together in several loops 
with a sturdy piece of rubber wire insulation. The Clapper looked 
astonished, as if no one had ever done this to him before. 

	I turned back to the Silencer to say something, but he was 
already on his back, his eyes closed.



	We were awakened early the next morning by a pungent smell; no, 
actually, it was a burning smell. My eyelids slowly fluttered open to 
find Red Sally, her blonde hair now a reddish brown, slowly burning one 
of the legs of our dining table. A stream of smoking was rising out of 
the foot of the table as it slowly burned under her constant attention. 
A flame came out of one of her fingers, pointed at the leg, burn