- •Prologue
- •Instinctively Kozlowski aimed and fired, crushing and rendering the thing a charred, fragmented skull.
- •In this case, though, what the sensors showed was all the hive was throwing at them.
- •In the center, like a giant flower bulb of chitinous flesh, grew the "throne"—the storage place for the royal jelly and home of the spawning queen.
- •Xeno-Zip.
- •In this kind of political and economic atmosphere, you just couldn't be too careful.
- •It brought out the best in him.
- •It was the general's turn to smile. "Excellent. I cannot commend your expedition into better hands, Mr. Grant. May I formally introduce you to Colonel Alexandra Kozlowski, your commanding officer."
- •If so, that could mean many things, none of them particularly good, several of them very bad.
- •It hit her then: what was important to bureaucrats?
- •It looked, smelled, tasted, felt like something out of his high school sports hero's days. Funky, but somehow homey. Oddly comforting.
- •In the front of the room, alongside her podium, was a table where the big shots in the mission sat, ready to support her in her explanations. Grant. A few of his scientists. Some crew members.
- •If you turned down the lights a bit and smudged a little with mind and imagination, this Kozlowski bitch was reallyquite the looker.
- •Instead, he pushed a button that depressurized the seal on the champagne. He tagged another switch. Armatures extended and made short work of the cork.
- •It smelled in here. Acidic. Oil, electricity, coffee ... And something more.
- •It looked like a misshapen excuse for a body, but with limbs and head cut off and lengths of esophagus and intestine connecting it with organic machines nearby.
- •Indeed, Grant noted.
- •In the command control area behind this array of weaponry, Sergeant Argento was doing a double check to systems.
- •It was like watching a movie.
- •Immediately the private began to hustle. She moved up the steps on the side of the lander. The alien hunkered over the remains of Argento. It hissed at her, wobbling like a spider guarding its prey.
- •Immediately the guns started to swivel, pointing downward at the bugs already inside the force field, and those still crawling through.
- •It was a makeshift conference table at best, but it would have to do.
- •It was Colonel Kozlowski.
- •In her hand she held some kind of metal clamp, attached to a bottle-shaped thing.
- •It was flashing back on her.
- •It was big and it was fast, and it was mean.
- •It sailed through the air, and it landed just short of Dr. Begalli. Stunned and disbelieving, Begalli tried to turn.
- •It still came forward.
- •Indeed, there was a smoking hole in the overplating of the hip area of the suit, exposing underpart beneath.
- •It seemed to take forever, but finally they saw the lip of the tunnel's entrance.
- •Its metal base bashed directly into the alien's head.
- •Epilogue
It was flashing back on her.
The walls, like inside a tumorous colon ...
The prickly fear, the sick-in-the-stomach ...
Having people with her she respected, cared for ... smack dab in the vat of trouble and fear ... Along with someone special, for whom she feared the most.
She remembered her feelings for Michaels. It welled up inside of her, and she had to push it back down, along with her fear.
This time would be different, she told herself.
She shut out the memory and went into her automatic "competent" mode.
Nonetheless, she could feel the memories crowding in on her.
About forty meters down it became apparent that things were different in other ways as well.
There was a convergence of tunnels.
Three separate ways to go.
"Okay, Dr. Begalli. Get your butt and that machine up front."
Dr. Begalli shuttled forward. In his hand he held a device with a pair of green sensor extensions. A pheromone detector. Begalli tapped a few buttons and pointed the device in each of the directions in turn, scrutinizing the results carefully.
"Well, Doctor," said Kozlowski. "Which way to the buried treasure?"
The helmeted head bobbed eagerly. "Well, the pheromone readings seem to jibe with what I expected." He pointed to the left. "Let's try that way."
They started down the corridor.
"This is why we need Begalli," she told Grant. "The tunnels of this hive are much more mazelike than any I've encountered on Earth. Without him, it might take along time to find the queen mother."
Grant shook his head. "If you say so, Colonel. But I'm still keeping my eye on him."
"That's it, Grant. I've found the perfect job for you. Begalli watch. Sounds wonderfully exotic," she said.
"Sure. That's what I'll do." Grant's helmet turreted back and forth. "Whereis the little creep, anyway?"
"You're not doing your job ... But don't worry, there's a curve just up ahead. He just went around that. We've just lost sight—"
"Colonel," said Private Mahone. "The motion detectors show significant and sudden activity up ahead."
"Begalli!" Kozlowski yelled. "Get your assback here!"
Just then, the suited Dr. Begalli returned around the bend where he'd disappeared.
Kozlowski could hear him screaming without benefit of the radio.
24
She didn't know the little guy could move that fast—let alone that fast with the hindering weight of a full battle suit on.
"Yaaaaaaaaaaa!" screamed Dr. Begalli as he ran for all he was worth around the corner. He ran past them, toward the cover of the cargo drone carrier.
"Begalli!" said Grant. "What the hell is it?"
Kozlowslti didn't have to ask.
She could pretty much guess.
"Arms!" she yelled.
She needn't have bothered. The others were ready, angling their weapons down.
However, ready as they were, all the preparations were pretty much in vain.
The first of the queen's guard came around the corner and Kozlowski had to stop herself from gasping.