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+THE TENTH PLANET OBLIVION
+by
+Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn Rusch
 
-LORD OF THE FLIES
 
- WILLIAM GOLDING
+CASTRO VILLE MARINA, THEN
 
- 
+A SHADOW ACROSS THE LAND
 
- LORD OF THE FLIES_1
+The peninsula that was home to Monterey was still there, but instead of
+one of the most beautiful cities in California, there was blackness and
+rubble.  Nothing else.  No pier, no ships.
 
- CHAPTER ONE The Sound of the Shell1
+No people.
 
- CHAPTER TWO Fire on the Mountain_17
+Cross gripped his seat.  He wasn't sure what sound he made as the
+helicopter approached the destruction, but he knew it wasn't good.
+Perhaps he moaned.  Perhaps he swore.  Perhaps he simply gasped ...
+Cross had seen the dust, studied it, even held bits of it in various
+labs back in D.C. He had watched the battle on television, seen
+satellite images, still photographs, infrared images, and spectral
+analyses.  Nothing had prepared him for being here in person.
 
- CHAPTER THREE Huts on the Beach_28
+Nothing had prepared him for the blackness that covered the coastline
+for as far as his eye could see.
 
- CHAPTER FOUR Painted Faces and Long Hair34
+By Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn Rusch Published by
+Ballantine Books:
 
- CHAPTER FIVE Beast from Water45
+THE TENTH PLANET
 
- CHAPTER SIX Beast from Air57
+THE TENTH PLANET: OBLIVION
 
- CHAPTER SEVEN Shadows and Tall Trees66
+THE TENTH PLANET: FINAL ASSAULT
 
- CHAPTER EIGHT Gift for the Darkness76
+"forthcoming
 
- CHAPTER NINE A View to a Death_89
+Books published by The Ballantine Publishing Group are available at
+quantity discounts on bulk purchases for premium, educational,
+fund-raising, and special sales use.  For details, please call
+1-800-733-3000.
 
- CHAPTER TEN The Shell and the Glasses95
+THE TENTH
 
- CHAPTER ELEVEN Castle Rock_105
+PLANET
 
- CHAPTER TWELVE Cry of the Hunters114
+OBLIVION
 
- Notes on Lord of the Flies *_126
+Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn Rusch
 
- 
+Story of Rand Marl is and Christopher Weaver
 
- 
+DEL
 
- CHAPTER ONE The Sound of the Shell
+REY
 
- 
+A Del Key Book
 
- The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way toward the lagoon. Though he had taken off his school sweater and trailed it now from one hand, his grey shirt stuck to him and his hair was plastered to his forehead. All round him the long scar smashed into the jungle was a bath of heat. He was clambering heavily among the creepers and broken trunks when a bird, a vision of red and yellow, flashed upwards with a witch-like cry; and this cry was echoed by another.
+THE BALLANTINE PUBLISHING GROUP NEW YORK
 
- "Hi!" it said. "Wait a minute!"
+Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized.  If this
+book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as
+"unsold or destroyed" and neither the author nor the publisher may have
+received payment for it.
 
- The undergrowth at the side of the scar was shaken and a multitude of raindrops fell pattering.
+ADelRey*Book
 
- "Wait a minute," the voice said. "I got caught up."
+Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group
 
- The fair boy stopped and jerked his stockings with an automatic gesture that made the jungle seem for a moment like the Home Counties.
+Copyright 2000 by Creative Licensing Corporation and Media
 
- The voice spoke again.
+Technologies Ltd.
 
- "I can't hardly move with all these creeper things."
+All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
+Conventions.  Published in the United States by The Ballantine
+Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc."  New York, and
+simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
 
- The owner of the voice came backing out of the undergrowth so that twigs scratched on a greasy wind-breaker. The naked crooks of his knees were plump, caught and scratched by thorns. He bent down, removed the thorns carefully, and turned around. He was shorter than the fair boy and very fat. He came forward, searching out safe lodgments for his feet, and then looked up through thick spectacles.
+Del Rey is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a
+trademark of Random House, Inc.
 
- "Where's the man with the megaphone?"
+www.  random house.com/deh-ey/
 
- The fair boy shook his head.
+Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 99-91744
 
- "This is an island. At least I think it's an island. That's a reef out in the sea. Perhaps there aren't any grownups anywhere."
+ISBN 0-345-42141-8
 
- The fat boy looked startled.
+Manufactured in the United States of America
 
- "There was that pilot. But he wasn't in the passenger cabin, he was up in front."
+First Edition: February 2000
 
- The fair boy was peering at the reef through screwed-up eyes.
+10 9876543
 
- "All them other kids," the fat boy went on. "Some of them must have got out. They must have, mustn't they?"
+For Amy.  Thanks.
 
- The fair boy began to pick his way as casually as possible toward the water. He tried to be offhand and not too obviously uninterested, but the fat boy hurried after him.
+Section One
 
- "Aren't there any grownups at all?"
+REBUILD
 
- "I don't think so."
+Prologue
 
- The fair boy said this solemnly; but then the delight of a realized ambition overcame him. In the middle of the scar he stood on his head and grinned at the reversed fat boy.
+April 23, 2018
 
- "No grownups!"
+3:10 p.m. Pacific Time
 
- The fat boy thought for a moment.
+174 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "That pilot."
+Danny Elliot was shaking as he ran, half crouched, to the white house
+at the very edge of the destruction.  The morning was sunny and the air
+smelled faintly of roses and the sea.  If he closed his eyes, he could
+imagine this neighborhood as it had been ten days ago, as if it had
+never changed.
 
- The fair boy allowed his feet to come down and sat on the steamy earth.
+But he didn't close his eyes.  He didn't dare.  He had to remain alert,
+in case he saw a soldier or heard a truck.  This entire area was
+cordoned off--a quarantine zone--and if he and his best friend Nikara
+Jones got caught, they'd get into a lot of trouble.
 
- "He must have flown off after he dropped us. He couldn't land here. Not in a place with wheels."
+Nikara was right beside him.  Nikara didn't look nervous at all.  His
+thin mouth was set in a line, and his brown eyes were intent on that
+house.  Danny was more concerned with the National Guard patrols and
+the other military vehicles that constantly roared along this deserted
+street.
 
- "We was attacked!"
+That, and with what his mother would say if she knew what he was
+doing.
 
- "He'll be back all right."
+He stopped beside a hedge.  It had been neatly clipped-probably a week
+ago, even though it felt like eighteen years ago--and was just high
+enough to give him protection from
 
- The fat boy shook his head.
+any approaching patrol on his left side.  He put a hand on Nikara's
+arm, stopping him.
 
- "When we was coming down I looked through one of them windows. I saw the other part of the plane. There were flames coming out of it."
+"What?"  Nikara whispered.
 
- He looked up and down the scar.
+"I don't think we should do this," Danny said.
 
- "And this is what the cabin done."
+"We're here already," Nikara said.  That wasn't entirely accurate. 
+They were heading for the white ranch house that stood out against the
+blackness beyond like a beacon.  They still had some distance to go.
 
- The fair boy reached out and touched the jagged end of a trunk. For a moment he looked interested.
+"What if we get caught?"
 
- "What happened to it?" he asked. "Where's it got to now?"
+"We talked about this," Nikara said.  He ran a hand through his tight
+dark curls, then shook his head.
 
- "That storm dragged it out to sea. It wasn't half dangerous with all them tree trunks falling. There must have been some kids still in it."
+"Yeah," Danny said.  "At my house.  I'm not so sure now."
 
- He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again.
+Nikara sighed, and rocked back on his heels.  He had been Danny's best
+friend for the last ten years--since they were both five years old--and
+they had done everything together.  Since the aliens attacked, they had
+spent most of their time with each other.  Everyone else was watching
+television or working disaster relief.  Danny's mother would come home
+at night, sit on their new sofa--a family Christmas present she had
+bought on credit--and cry.  He had seen his mother cry when his dad
+left five years ago, but she hadn't cried since.  Not once.  He'd
+thought his mother was the strongest woman in the world.  Maybe she
+was.  Maybe even the strongest woman in the world couldn't handle what
+the aliens did.
 
- "What's your name?"
+Now there were people starting to say it really hadn't been aliens, but
+the government that destroyed everything.  But that didn't matter to
+Danny.
 
- "Ralph."
+What mattered to Danny was that it had all been so unexpected.
 
- The fat boy waited to be asked his name in turn but this proffer of acquaintance was not made; the fair boy called Ralph smiled vaguely, stood up, and began to make his way once more toward the lagoon. The fat boy hung steadily at his shoulder.
+Ten days ago, he'd gotten up at six like usual, taken a shower, and had
+a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats.  Then he'd gotten his bag lunch from his
+mother and begged for lunch money like he always did, and when she'd
+refused like she always did, he'd gotten on his bike and ridden the
+mile to school.  Another year and he'd be old enough to drive, but
+for
 
- "I expect there's a lot more of us scattered about. You haven't seen any others, have you?"
+now he was still stuck on his bike.  He'd had algebra, English, and
+social studies before everything he knew disappeared.
 
- Ralph shook his head and increased his speed. Then he tripped over a branch and came down with a crash.
+Alien ships appeared over San Luis Obispo and Monterey.  And everywhere
+in between.  Huge black alien ships that blocked the sky.  Then they
+dropped a black cloud on everything, a cloud that ate through wood and
+skin and bone.
 
- The fat boy stood by him, breathing hard.
+Monterey was gone.
 
- "My auntie told me not to run," he explained, "on account of my asthma."
+San Luis Obispo was gone.
 
- "Ass-mar?"
+Only the outlying areas remained.  The outlying areas, where the
+housing was cheap.  The poor section or, as his mother used to say, the
+wrong side of town.  Their side of town.
 
- "That's right. Can't catch my breath. I was the only boy in our school what had asthma," said the fat boy with a touch of pride. "And I've been wearing specs since I was three."
+He'd never felt lucky living there before, and he wasn't sure he felt
+lucky now.  But he was glad to be alive.
 
- He took off his glasses and held them out to Ralph, blinking and smiling, and then started to wipe them against his grubby wind-breaker. An expression of pain and inward concentration altered the pale contours of his face. He smeared the sweat from his cheeks and quickly adjusted the spectacles on his nose.
+"Come on," Nikara said.  "We only got twenty minutes before the patrol
+is due."
 
- "Them fruit."
+Danny rubbed his hands on his jeans.  His palms were sweating--his
+whole body was sweating.  He'd never done anything like this in his
+life.  He was breaking all the rules.
 
- He glanced round the scar.
+"From here to the white house," Nikara said.  "We can hide near the
+rhodies.  There's a trellis behind them.  From there we can climb to
+the roof."
 
- "Them fruit," he said, "I expect--"
+That had been the plan all along.  They wanted to go to the very edge
+of the Black Zone, as people were calling it, and see the destruction
+for themselves.  Danny wasn't entirely sure if he could tell anyone why
+he wanted to see the Zone.  He just knew it hadn't looked real on
+television, and from a distance, it seemed as if someone had dropped a
+lot of gray paint on the horizon.  The sea was still there, and the
+sky, but all the buildings were gone.  Some rubble remained-nonorganic
+stuff, the news reports said--but the trees, the buildings, Otis people
+were gone.
 
- He put on his glasses, waded away from Ralph, and crouched down among the tangled foliage.
+"Aren't you a little creeped out?"  Danny asked.
 
- "I'll be out again in just a minute--"
+Nikara looked at him, his dark eyes flat.  "No."
 
- Ralph disentangled himself cautiously and stole away through the branches. In a few seconds the fat boy's grunts were behind him and he was hurrying toward the screen that still lay between him and the lagoon. He climbed over a broken trunk and was out of the jungle.
+Danny felt a flush building.  This had been his idea.  For days he had
+pushed Nikara to come.  Nikara had finally agreed, on
 
- The shore was fledged with palm trees. These stood or leaned or reclined against the light and their green feathers were a hundred feet up in the air. The ground beneath them was a bank covered with coarse grass, torn everywhere by the upheavals of fallen trees, scattered with decaying coconuts and palm saplings. Behind this was the darkness of the forest proper and the open space of the scar. Ralph stood, one hand against a grey trunk, and screwed up his eyes against the shimmering water. Out there, perhaps a mile away, the white surf flinked on a coral reef, and beyond that the open sea was dark blue. Within the irregular arc of coral the lagoon was still as a mountain lake--blue of all shades and shadowy green and purple. The beach between the palm terrace and the water was a thin stick, endless apparently, for to Ralph's left the perspectives of palm and beach and water drew to a point at infinity; and always, almost visible, was the heat.
+the condition that he'd plan their route and time the patrols before
+they left.  Nikara had put two days of work into this little trek,
+making sure they had time enough to view the destruction.  No matter
+how creeped out Nikara was, he'd never admit it, not after all that.
 
- He jumped down from the terrace. The sand was thick over his black shoes and the heat hit him. He became conscious of the weight of clothes, kicked his shoes off fiercely and ripped off each stocking with its elastic garter in a single movement. Then he leapt back on the terrace, pulled off his shirt, and stood there among the skull-like coconuts with green shadows from the palms and the forest sliding over his skin. He undid the snake-clasp of his belt, lugged off his shorts and pants, and stood there naked, looking at the dazzling beach and the water.
+Danny should have known better--or he never should have suggested it in
+the first place.
 
- He was old enough, twelve years and a few months, to have lost the prominent tummy of childhood and not yet old enough for adolescence to have made him awkward. You could see now that he might make a boxer, as far as width and heaviness of shoulders went, but there was a mildness about his mouth and eyes that proclaimed no devil. He patted the palm trunk softly, and, forced at last to believe in the reality of the island laughed delightedly again and stood on his head. He turned neatly on to his feet, jumped down to the beach, knelt and swept a double armful of sand into a pile against his chest. Then he sat back and looked at the water with bright, excited eyes.
+"Let's go," Nikara said, and started across the street at full run.
 
- "Ralph--"
+Danny followed.  So far, Nikara had been right about the patrols.  They
+ran every hour, like clockwork.  Otherwise, there was no one here.
 
- The fat boy lowered himself over the terrace and sat down carefully, using the edge as a seat.
+Every house was empty.
 
- "I'm sorry I been such a time. Them fruit--"
+This neighborhood with its trimmed lawns, and flower gardens, and newly
+painted small and old houses had always teemed with life.  A lot of the
+people were elderly and spent most of their time outside.  Most had
+owned their houses forever and took a lot of pride in them.
 
- He wiped his glasses and adjusted them on his button nose. The frame had made a deep, pink "V" on the bridge. He looked critically at Ralph's golden body and then down at his own clothes. He laid a hand on the end of a zipper that extended down his chest.
+Now everyone was gone and the houses looked abandoned, even though the
+flowers still bloomed.  The yards were getting ragged, and the
+driveways were empty.  Danny wanted to have someone--anyone--open a
+door and yell, "Hey, kid!  Don't you know you're not supposed to be
+here?"
 
- "My auntie--"
+But no one did.
 
- Then he opened the zipper with decision and pulled the whole wind-breaker over his head.
+The doors remained closed and the blinds pulled down.  He ran up the
+curb and onto the lawn of the white house, feeling as if he were
+trespassing.
 
- "There!"
+Nikara had already made it to the rhododendrons on the side of the
+house.  Their pink flowers shook as he pushed past them toward the
+trellis.
 
- Ralph looked at him sidelong and said nothing.
+Danny took one more glance at the street.
 
- "I expect we'll want to know all their names," said the fat boy, "and make a list. We ought to have a meeting."
+Empty.
 
- Ralph did not take the hint so the fat boy was forced to continue.
+The cracked pavement seemed almost naked.  From this direction, though,
+everything seemed normal.  Behind the ranch houses, he saw the
+thirty-year-old manufactured homes that
 
- "I don't care what they call me," he said confidentially, "so long as they don't call me what they used to call me at school."
+marked the beginnings of his neighborhood, and behind that the
+somewhat larger homes of the next development.
 
- Ralph was faintly interested.
+Only if he looked forward, toward the white house, was he reminded of
+everything lost.
 
- "What was that?"
+He slipped into the rhododendrons--large plants that had probably been
+there since the houses were built--and felt the jutting branches
+scratch his arms.  The pink flowers had no real smell, but the leaves
+gave off a slightly unpleasant odor.  He had to push through the sturdy
+lower branches to get to the trellis.
 
- The fat boy glanced over his shoulder, then leaned toward Ralph.
+As he put his hand on the wood, Nikara said, "Careful.  It's wobbly."
 
- He whispered.
+Danny glanced up.  Nikara was already on the roof.  He was hanging his
+head over the side, watching.
 
- "They used to call me 'Piggy.'"
+Danny took a deep breath and started to climb.  The trellis wasn't just
+wobbly--the wood was rotten and weak.  He could feel it bending beneath
+his weight.  A few years ago this wouldn't have been a problem, but
+this last year he'd really grown.
 
- Ralph shrieked with laughter. He jumped up.
+He shimmied up it as quickly as he could, hearing one of the boards
+snap just before he reached the top.
 
- "Piggy! Piggy!"
+Nikara put a hand on Danny's back to help him up, then moved up to the
+peak.
 
- "Ralph--please!"
+Danny lay on the roof for a moment, his heart pounding.  The shingles
+felt gritty against his cheek.
 
- Piggy clasped his hands in apprehension.
+"God," Nikara said.  "You should see this."
 
- "I said I didn't want--"
+Danny pushed himself up.  The pitch of the roof was shallow--which was
+why they'd chosen this house--and it took very little effort to climb
+to the peak, where Nikara was now sitting.
 
- "Piggy! Piggy!"
+Danny climbed, still slightly crouched so that his hands could brush
+the shingles.  That way, he didn't have to look at the devastation
+until he was ready.
 
- Ralph danced out into the hot air of the beach and then returned as a fighter-plane, with wings swept back, and machine-gunned Piggy.
+"God," Nikara said again.  The word was coming out of him like an
+involuntary prayer.
 
- "Sche-aa-ow!"
+Danny sat down next to him, his feet resting on the other side of the
+roof, the peak against his butt.  His hands gripped the rough surface.
+He waited until he was braced before he looked up.
 
- He dived in the sand at Piggy's feet and lay there laughing.
+The blackness spread before him like a shadow across the land.  It made
+everything look flat, even where Danny knew there were rolling hills,
+slight inclines, and tiny valleys.  Then the blackness ended, and the
+blue water of the Pacific sparkled in the sun.  The ocean looked
+exactly the same.  Only it was as if someone had moved a new landscape
+in front of it, a landscape without houses or stores or tourist
+attractions; without restaurants or the Wharf or ships; without birds
+or dogs or people.
 
- "Piggy!"
+His breath caught in his throat.  He might have said something--he
+didn't know for certain.  He had gone into those businesses, walked
+down streets now buried in blackness.  He had played at the water's
+edge.
 
- Piggy grinned reluctantly, pleased despite himself at even this much recognition.
+He had had friends in the neighborhoods covered in soot.
 
- "So long as you don't tell the others--"
+The wind was cooler up here and smelled of the sea.  The blackness had
+no smell at all, at least not one he could detect.  A gust hit him, and
+then another even colder gust, drying his sweat and covering his skin
+in goose bumps.
 
- Ralph giggled into the sand. The expression of pain and concentration returned to Piggy's face.
+"Can you see where Cort's house used to be?"  Nikara asked in a voice
+Danny had never heard before.
 
- "Half a sec'."
+Danny made himself look toward the south.  Cort had grown up with them,
+but he lived about five blocks away.  He had stayed home sick that day,
+April 13.  And when it became clear what parts of the area were
+completely destroyed, Danny had asked his mother if she thought Cort
+got away.
 
- He hastened back into the forest. Ralph stood up and trotted along to the right.
+"No, honey," she had said.  She had tried to pull him into a hug, but
+he wasn't a baby anymore.  He didn't need comfort.  When Nikara had
+come over to the house the next day and asked the same question, Danny
+had said, "What do you think?"  and neither of them mentioned Cort
+again.
 
- Here the beach was interrupted abruptly by the square motif of the landscape; a great platform of pink granite thrust up uncompromisingly through forest and terrace and sand and lagoon to make a raised jetty four feet high. The top of this was covered with a thin layer of soil and coarse grass and shaded with young palm trees. There was not enough soil for them to grow to any height and when they reached perhaps twenty feet they fell and dried, forming a criss-cross pattern of trunks, very convenient to sit on. The palms that still stood made a green roof, covered on the underside with a quivering tangle of reflections from the lagoon. Ralph hauled himself onto this platform, noted the coolness and shade, shut one eye, and decided that the shadows on his body were really green. He picked his way to the seaward edge of the platform and stood looking down into the water. It was clear to the bottom and bright with the efflorescence of tropical weed and coral. A school of tiny, glittering fish flicked hither and thither. Ralph spoke to himself, sounding the bass strings of delight.
+Until now.
 
- "Whizzoh!"
+Danny's grip on the roof grew tighter.  The wind was stinging his
+eyes, filling them with tears.  Cort had rounded out their threesome.
+He had been cautious when Nikara was reckless, the voice of reason when
+Danny had one of his crazy ideas, and completely willing to tag along,
+even on the silliest adventure.  In fact, Cort would have been sitting
+beside them if he hadn't--melted--or whatever those things did to
+someone.
 
- Beyond the platform there was more enchantment. Some act of God--a typhoon perhaps, or the storm that had accompanied his own arrival--had banked sand inside the lagoon so that there was a long, deep pool in the beach with a high ledge of pink granite at the further end. Ralph had been deceived before now by the specious appearance of depth in a beach pool and he approached this one preparing to be disappointed. But the island ran true to form and the incredible pool, which clearly was only invaded by the sea at high tide, was so deep at one end as to be dark green. Ralph inspected the whole thirty yards carefully and then plunged in. The water was warmer than his blood and he might have been swimming in a huge bath.
+If he hadn't died.
 
- Piggy appeared again, sat on the rocky ledge, and watched Ralph's green and white body enviously.
+Danny shivered.  He would never see Cort again.  Or Cort's father, the
+only father who was still at home among the three of them.
 
- "You can't half swim."
+Or Cort's dog, Buddy.
 
- "Piggy."
+Or Cort's house.
 
- Piggy took off his shoes and socks, ranged them carefully on the ledge, and tested the water with one toe.
+"Do you see it?"  Nikara asked.
 
- "It's hot!"
+"No," Danny said.  "I can't tell where it was at all."
 
- "What did you expect?"
+He was amazed at how calm he sounded.  It was as if he were talking
+about a landmark or a shop or something he had never seen before.  Not
+a place where he had eaten dinner, where he and Nikara and Cort had
+logged on to his parents' system and sent phony e-mails to all the
+good-looking girls in class.
 
- "I didn't expect nothing. My auntie--"
+"You can see some of the foundations, if you look hard enough."
+Nikara's voice was flat.  That was why it sounded so weird.
 
- "Sucks to your auntie!"
+Danny squinted.  He could see the shapes of the houses beneath the
+black dust, something that wouldn't have been as visible from the
+ground.  Large squares here, large rectangles there, a tangle of rubble
+between.
 
- Ralph did a surface dive and swam under water with his eyes open; the sandy edge of the pool loomed up like a hillside. He turned over, holding his nose, and a golden light danced and shattered just over his face. Piggy was looking determined and began to take off his shorts. Presently he was palely and fatly naked. He tiptoed down the sandy side of the pool, and sat there up to his neck in water smiling proudly at Ralph.
+He rubbed his eye.  Damn the wind.
 
- "Aren't you going to swim?"
+"I still can't pick out which house was his."
 
- Piggy shook his head.
+"Why does it matter so much?"  Danny asked.
 
- "I can't swim. I wasn't allowed. My asthma--"
+"I don't know," Nikara said.  "It just does."
 
- "Sucks to your ass-mar!"
+They looked at each other.  Nikara's eyes were red, too.  Cort was the
+only friend they'd lost.  Their school was east of
 
- Piggy bore this with a sort of humble patience. "You can't half swim well."
+the destruction and everyone they knew had been in class that day.
+Except Cort.
 
- Ralph paddled backwards down the slope, immersed his mouth and blew a jet of water into the air. Then he lifted his chin and spoke.
+A lot of kids lost homes, though.  And pets.  And parents.
 
- "I could swim when I was five. Daddy taught me. He's a commander in the Navy. When he gets leave he'll come and rescue us. What's your father?"
+"Do you think it hurt?"  The question came out as a whisper.  He was
+surprised it even left his lips.
 
- Piggy flushed suddenly.
+Nikara swallowed so hard his Adam's apple bobbed.  He hunched his
+shoulders, then turned the movement into a shrug.  "They showed some
+film on CNN.  That lady, in Europe--"
 
- "My dad's dead," he said quickly, "and my mum--"
+"Africa," Danny said.
 
- He took off his glasses and looked vainly for something with which to clean them.
+"--she got caught in the black cloud and it dissolved her skin.  There
+was blood everywhere and she was screaming" Nikara's voice trailed off.
+He glanced at the blackness before them as if he were seeing it for the
+first time.  "Yeah.  I think it hurt."
 
- "I used to live with my auntie. She kept a candy store. I used to get ever so many candies. As many as I liked. When'll your dad rescue us?"
+Danny closed his eyes.  He didn't want to think about Cort like that
+lady, Cort on his couch, sick with the flu when suddenly the roof
+disappeared, and this black cloud came at him Danny eyes flew open.
+There was no black cloud.  Only black dust.  "They don't want people
+walking in that stuff," he said.  "You think that's because it might
+dissolve their feet?"
 
- "Soon as he can."
+"I don't know," Nikara said.  He brought his knees up and rested his
+chin on them, as if he were contemplating a problem.
 
- Piggy rose dripping from the water and stood naked, cleaning his glasses with a sock. The only sound that reached them now through the heat of the morning was the long, grinding roar of the breakers on the reef.
+The plan had been to look at the destruction and then maybe walk
+through it.  Unspoken in all of it was that maybe they'd find something
+of Cort's.  Maybe even Cort's house.  Maybe proof that Cort had lived
+through it all.
 
- "How does he know we're here?"
+But that wasn't possible.  Danny knew it now.  Even though he had seen
+the destruction from a distance and on television, it wasn't the same
+as sitting here, on the edge of it--an edge that was as arbitrary as
+the teams Mr.  Goble chose in gym class.  If Cort's house had been five
+blocks east, Cort would be sitting up here with them now.  Cort would
+know if the black
 
- Ralph lolled in the water. Sleep enveloped him like the swathing mirages that were wrestling with the brilliance of the lagoon.
+dust was safe.  He'd know how much trouble they'd be in if the patrols
+caught them.  He'd know everything.
 
- "How does he know we're here?"
+"How much time do we have?"  Danny asked.
 
- Because, thought Ralph, because, because. The roar from the reef became very distant.
+Nikara checked his wrist'puter.  "Ten minutes."
 
- "They'd tell him at the airport."
+"We have to get down before that," Danny said.  "They could see us for
+miles up here."
 
- Piggy shook his head, put on his flashing glasses and looked down at Ralph.
+"If they're looking up," Nikara said.
 
- "Not them. Didn't you hear what the pilot said? About the atom bomb? They're all dead."
+"Where else would they look?"  Danny asked.  "The attack came from
+above."
 
- Ralph pulled himself out of the water, stood facing Piggy, and considered this unusual problem.
+"I don't think they're expecting another attack," Nikara said.  "At
+least not right away.  They'd be acting a whole lot different if they
+were."
 
- Piggy persisted.
+Still, thinking about patrols put Danny back on alert.  If the patrols
+could see him from far away, he should be able to see them, too.  He
+made himself look away from the black dust covering everything and
+instead focused on the roads.
 
- "This an island, isn't it?"
+The army used the roads closest to the destruction.  They had also
+built a few roads through it--long winding paths where the black dust
+had somehow been cleared out.  Danny remembered his mother telling him
+about that, and how she didn't approve of the army sending the dust
+back in the air where it might do damage again.
 
- "I climbed a rock," said Ralph slowly, "and I think this is an island."
+He scanned those roads and saw nothing.  But on the concrete roads at
+the edge, he saw vehicles moving like ants going back to their hill.
+Nikara had said that the patrols were very regular--no one, apparently,
+wanted to go back into the dust, but the government insisted it be
+guarded.
 
- "They're all dead," said Piggy, "an' this is an island. Nobody don't know we're here. Your dad don't know, nobody don't know--"
+Nikara was looking in the same direction Danny was.  "You know," Nikara
+said as he squinted at the roads, "they've been riding through this
+stuff.  It's got to be safe."
 
- His lips quivered and the spectacles were dimmed with mist.
+Danny shuddered.  He was getting cold on this roof.  "Maybe they wear
+special suits or something."
 
- "We may stay here till we die."
+"I've seen them," Nikara said.  "The first few days they wore masks,
+but they haven't worn anything since."
 
- With that word the heat seemed to increase till it became a threatening weight and the lagoon attacked them with a blinding effulgence.
+Danny looked down.  The dust on the other side of the house glistened,
+just a little.  He had never seen blackness glisten before.  It seemed
+almost evil.
 
- "Get my clothes," muttered Ralph. "Along there."
+"Maybe they'll get sick later," Danny said.
 
- He trotted through the sand, enduring the sun's enmity, crossed the platform and found his scattered clothes. To put on a grey shirt once more was strangely pleasing. Then he climbed the edge of the platform and sat in the green shade on a convenient trunk. Piggy hauled himself up, carrying most of his clothes under his arms. Then he sat carefully on a fallen trunk near the little cliff that fronted the lagoon; and the tangled reflections quivered over him.
+"They would have done tests," Nikara said.
 
- Presently he spoke.
+"My mother says you should never put too much trust in the government.
+Some people even say the government is the cause of all this."
 
- "We got to find the others. We got to do something."
+Nikara sighed.  "The aliens did this.  I'm going.  That's what we came
+for."
 
- Ralph said nothing. Here was a coral island. Protected from the sun, ignoring Piggy's ill-omened talk, he dreamed pleasantly.
+"I thought we came to see it up close."
 
- Piggy insisted.
+"You can't see it up close without getting in it."  Nikara snorted.
+"Anybody knows that."
 
- "How many of us are there?"
+Danny didn't agree, but he knew better than to argue with Nikara when
+he was in this kind of mood.  Nikara half slid, half walked to the edge
+of the roof.
 
- Ralph came forward and stood by Piggy.
+"Think it's too far to jump?"  he asked.
 
- "I don't know."
+"Yes," Danny said.  He hadn't left the peak, hoping that would
+discourage Nikara.
 
- Here and there, little breezes crept over the polished waters beneath the haze of heat. When these breezes reached the platform the palm fronds would whisper, so that spots of blurred sunlight slid over their bodies or moved like bright, winged things in the shade.
+"If I hang off the gutter, I won't drop so far," Nikara said.
 
- Piggy looked up at Ralph. All the shadows on Ralph's face were reversed; green above, bright below from the lagoon. A blur of sunlight was crawling across his hair.
+"If you break your leg and those things start eating you," Danny said,
+"I'm not coming to get you."
 
- "We got to do something."
+Nikara looked at him over his shoulder.  "I didn't think you would."
 
- Ralph looked through him. Here at last was the imagined but never fully realized place leaping into real life. Ralph's lips parted in a delighted smile and Piggy, taking this smile to himself as a mark of recognition, laughed with pleasure.
+Danny didn't know how Nikara meant that.  Did he mean Danny was a
+coward?  Or that it was a sensible thing not to rescue someone who was
+dissolving?
 
- "If it really is an island--"
+Nikara gripped the gutter and swung his legs off the roof.  Danny's
+stomach tightened.  All he could see were Nikara's brown hands clinging
+to the rusty metal.
 
- "What's that?"
+Danny made his way across the roof.  He reached the edge just as Nikara
+let go.
 
- Ralph had stopped smiling and was pointing into the lagoon. Something creamy lay among the ferny weeds.
+A cloud of dust rose around him, and Danny felt a cry leave his throat.
+Not Nikara, too.  Danny wanted to close his eyes, so that he wouldn't
+see a friend die, but he couldn't look away.
 
- "A stone."
+He was breathing shallowly, waiting for the dust to settle, hoping
+he'd see Nikara in one piece.  Danny realized he had lied; if Nikara
+was injured, Danny would do everything he could, short of jumping in
+the dust himself, to get Nikara back on the roof.
 
- "No. A shell."
+Finally the dust stopped swirling.  Nikara was standing very still. His
+face, his clothes, his hair were covered in black dust.  But his eyes
+were his own.  And they were twinkling.
 
- Suddenly Piggy was a-bubble with decorous excitement.
+"It's like feathers!"  Nikara said.  "It tickles."
 
- "S'right. It's a shell! I seen one like that before. On someone's back wall. A conch he called it. He used to blow it and then his mum would come. It's ever so valuable--"
+Danny frowned.  He thought the stuff would be stiff and bristly, like
+rust flakes.  He didn't expect it to be soft.
 
- Near to Ralph's elbow a palm sapling leaned out over the lagoon. Indeed, the weight was already pulling a lump from the poor soil and soon it would fall. He tore out the stem and began to poke about in the water, while the brilliant fish flicked away on this side and that. Piggy leaned dangerously.
+"Come on down," Nikara said.
 
- "Careful! You'll break it--"
+Danny put his hands on the gutter as he had seen Nikara do.  The metal
+was cold against Danny's skin.  He was about to swing over, to join
+Nikara, but something stopped him.
 
- "Shut up."
+"Come on!" Nikara said.
 
- Ralph spoke absently. The shell was interesting and pretty and a worthy plaything; but the vivid phantoms of his day-dream still interposed between him and Piggy, who in this context was an irrelevance. The palm sapling, bending, pushed the shell across the weeds. Ralph used one hand as a fulcrum and pressed down with the other till the shell rose, dripping, and Piggy could make a grab.
+Danny looked at the dust.  Some of it was still swirling near Nikara's
+feet.  Every time Nikara moved, the dust would move, too.  Then Danny
+let his gaze wander from Nikara to the house foundations.  One of those
+was Cort's.  No one had said what the black stuff was.  Some of it had
+come from those ships, yes, but some of it had to have the remains of
+buildings in it.
 
- Now the shell was no longer a thing seen but not to be touched, Ralph too became excited. Piggy babbled:
+When Danny's great-uncle Milton died, he'd been cremated, and Danny's
+mom, as the only surviving relative, got the ashes.  She couldn't
+decide whether to keep them or scatter them, so for a few weeks, Danny,
+Nikara, and Cort would open the urn and look inside.
 
- "--a conch; ever so expensive. I bet if you wanted to buy one, you'd have to pay pounds and pounds and pounds--he had it on his garden wall, and my auntie--"
+There were gray flakes--soft gray flakes because Danny had touched
+them--mixed with bits of bone.  And that's what this black dust and the
+rubble reminded him of.  Ashes, with a bit of bone.
 
- Ralph took the shell from Piggy and a little water ran down his arm. In color the shell was deep cream, touched here and there with fading pink. Between the point, worn away into a little hole, and the pink lips of the mouth, lay eighteen inches of shell with a slight spiral twist and covered with a delicate, embossed pattern. Ralph shook sand out of the deep tube.
+Bile rose in his throat, and he had to swallow hard to keep it down.
 
- "--mooed like a cow," he said. "He had some white stones too, an' a bird cage with a green parrot. He didn't blow the white stones, of course, an' he said--"
+"Danny," Nikara said.  "We don't have a lot of time.  "But Danny
+couldn't swing himself off the roof.  Not and land in ashes.  Cort's
+ashes.  One of his closest friends, forever reduced to dust and bone.
 
- Piggy paused for breath and stroked the glistening thing that lay in Ralph's hands.
+"You go," Danny said.
 
- "Ralph!"
+Nikara made a small sound of disgust and slogged through the blackness
+toward Cort's house.  A cloud rose in his wake.  Danny watched as the
+ashes mixed with ashes, and the dust with dust.
 
- Ralph looked up.
+And right at that moment he knew that the aliens had to pay for what
+they had done to Cort and everyone else.
 
- "We can use this to call the others. Have a meeting. They'll come when they hear us--"
+Danny didn't know how.  But he knew they had to pay.  Cort and everyone
+else mixed with this gray dust that spread out before him couldn't rest
+until they did.
 
- He beamed at Ralph.
+1
 
- "That was what you meant, didn't you? That's why you got the conch out of the water?"
+April 23,2018
 
- Ralph pushed back his fair hair.
+7:30 p.m. Eastern Time
 
- "How did your friend blow the conch?"
+174 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "He kind of spat," said Piggy. "My auntie wouldn't let me blow on account of my asthma. He said you blew from down here." Piggy laid a hand on his jutting abdomen. "You try, Ralph. You'll call the others."
+The Oval Office smelled musty.  That was always the first thing
+Secretary of State Doug Mickelson noticed about the place.  Then he
+noted the large blue area rug with the emblem of the United States in
+the center, the antique partner's desk beneath the large windows where
+President Franklin did most of his work, and the white couches nearest
+the door.  The room's oval shape wasn't that obtrusive--the first time
+he'd been invited here, Mickelson had thought it would be--but the
+relatively low ceiling and the comfortable furniture kept it from
+feeling like a mausoleum, as so much of the White House did.
 
- Doubtfully, Ralph laid the small end of the shell against his mouth and blew. There came a rushing sound from its mouth but nothing more. Ralph wiped the salt water off his lips and tried again, but the shell remained silent.
+Still, all the years the building had stood in the District's damp heat
+in the days before air-conditioning had taken their toll.  There was a
+general mustiness about the whole building, something an army of
+cleaning people couldn't seem to tame.  Once, when Mickelson mentioned
+that the faint pervasive hint of mold played hell on his allergies, his
+best friend, scientist Leo Cross, had suggested using nanotechnology to
+clean it out.  Mickelson had thought it a good idea at the time.  Now,
+thanks to the alien attack, he understood how nanotechnology
 
- "He kind of spat."
+worked--had actually seen it in action--and he would rather live with
+the mold.
 
- Ralph pursed his lips and squirted air into the shell, which emitted a low, farting noise. This amused both boys so much that Ralph went on squirting for some minutes, between bouts of laughter.
+He dropped his tall, muscled frame onto the couch, almost tempted to
+put his feet up.  He couldn't remember being so worn out and so angry
+at the same time.  Since the attack he'd had almost no sleep, and had
+wanted to punch a dozen people, even though he was known for his
+calmness under diplomatic fire.  He was just boiling mad that the
+aliens had so easily destroyed so much of his home, his country, his
+planet.
 
- "He blew from down here."
+He was amazed the world had survived an alien attack.  Thank God it
+looked as if humans had won when the aliens left, otherwise the world
+would be coming apart in riots.  At the moment almost everyone on the
+planet thought humanity had chased off the aliens.  Doug knew better.
 
- Ralph grasped the idea and hit the shell with air from his diaphragm. Immediately the thing sounded. A deep, harsh note boomed under the palms, spread through the intricacies of the forest and echoed back from the pink granite of the mountain. Clouds of birds rose from the treetops, and something squealed and ran in the undergrowth.
+So did President Franklin and about thirty other people around the
+nation.  And maybe a few hundred more around the world.  But that was
+going to change.
 
- Ralph took the shell away from his lips.
+The aliens hadn't been chased off--they were just following a plan.  A
+plan that was going to bring them right back to Earth for a second
+attack as soon as their tenth-planet home got into position again.
 
- "Gosh!"
+And the fact that they were coming back had him even angrier.  And
+scared at the same time.  Not for himself, but for the millions and
+millions who would die in a second attack, not counting all the people
+who would die in the panic that would sweep the world the moment
+everyone knew the aliens were headed this way again.
 
- His ordinary voice sounded like a whisper after the harsh note of the conch. He laid the conch against his lips, took a deep breath and blew once more. The note boomed again: and then at his firmer pressure, the note, fluking up an octave, became a strident blare more penetrating than before. Piggy was shouting something, his face pleased, his glasses flashing. The birds cried, small animals scuttered. Ralph's breath failed; the note dropped the octave, became a low wubber, was a rush of air.
+Humanity, civilization as Mickelson knew it, wouldn't survive a second
+round.  It was that simple.
 
- The conch was silent, a gleaming tusk; Ralph's face was dark with breathlessness and the air over the island was full of bird-clamor and echoes ringing.
+Mickelson heard President Franklin in the narrow corridor off the
+opposite side of the room, his braying Bronx accent impossible to miss.
+Thayer Franklin had a patrician name, but that was the only thing
+patrician about him.  His father was distantly related to some of the
+best families in New England, but he'd married "down," or so the
+pre-election news reports
 
- "I bet you can hear that for miles."
+had said, to a woman from a blue-collar family who'd gotten a
+scholarship to Harvard.  That marriage had lasted long enough to
+produce Franklin, and to prevent his spunky mother from finishing her
+Ivy League education.  Franklin's father refused to pay child support,
+and Cara Franklin went home to raise her child.
 
- Ralph found his breath and blew a series of short blasts.
+That was all in the official biography.  What wasn't, seemed incredibly
+clear to anyone who met the small, dark-eyed, clear spoken mother of
+the president.  She'd poured her ambition into him, and he'd responded.
+Sometimes, Mickelson thought, the entire success story was an elaborate
+way for Franklin to thumb his nose at his still-living, unrepentant
+deadbeat father.
 
- Piggy exclaimed: "There's one!"
+Now Franklin was faced with the largest crisis to ever face a president
+Mickelson hoped the man was up for it.
 
- A child had appeared among the palms, about a hundred yards along the beach. He was a boy of perhaps six years, sturdy and fair, his clothes torn, his face covered with a sticky mess of fruit. His trousers had been lowered for an obvious purpose and had only been pulled back half-way. He jumped off the palm terrace into the sand and his trousers fell about his ankles; he stepped out of them and trotted to the platform. Piggy helped him up. Meanwhile Ralph continued to blow till voices shouted in the forest. The small boy squatted in front of Ralph, looking up brightly and vertically. As he received the reassurance of something purposeful being done he began to look satisfied, and his only clean digit, a pink thumb, slid into his mouth.
+Mickelson leaned his head back and closed his eyes.  Most of the time
+over the past few days, when he did that, either in bed or on a plane,
+he saw the images of the alien craft pouring the black clouds of
+nanomachines over people, buildings, entire towns.  And those people
+screaming in pain as the machines ate them alive, from the outside
+inward.
 
- Piggy leaned down to him.
+It was the stuff of horror movies.  Skin eaten, blood spurting
+everywhere.
 
- "What's yer name?"
+Faces contorted in pain, covered in blood, skin gone.
 
- "Johnny."
+Millions of dead.
 
- Piggy muttered the name to himself and then shouted it to Ralph, who was not interested because he was still blowing. His face was dark with the violent pleasure of making this stupendous noise, and his heart was making the stretched shirt shake. The shouting in the forest was nearer.
+Nightmares.
 
- Signs of life were visible now on the beach. The sand, trembling beneath the heat haze, concealed many figures in its miles of length; boys were making their way toward the platform through the hot, dumb sand. Three small children, no older than Johnny, appeared from startlingly close at hand, where they had been gorging fruit in the forest. A dark little boy, not much younger than Piggy, parted a tangle of undergrowth, walked on to the platform, and smiled cheerfully at everybody. More and more of them came. Taking their cue from the innocent Johnny, they sat down on the fallen palm trunks and waited. Ralph continued to blow short, penetrating blasts. Piggy moved among the crowd, asking names and frowning to remember them. The children gave him the same simple obedience that they had given to the men with megaphones. Some were naked and carrying their clothes; others half-naked, or more or less dressed, in school uniforms, grey, blue, fawn, jacketed, or jerseyed. There were badges, mottoes even, stripes of color in stockings and pullovers. Their heads clustered above the trunks in the green shade; heads brown, fair, black, chestnut, sandy, mouse-colored; heads muttering, whispering, heads full of eyes that watched Ralph and speculated. Something was being done.
+Nothing but nightmares.
 
- The children who came along the beach, singly or in twos, leapt into visibility when they crossed the line from heat haze to nearer sand. Here, the eye was first attracted to a black, bat-like creature that danced on the sand, and only later perceived the body above it. The bat was the child's shadow, shrunk by the vertical sun to a patch between the hurrying feet. Even while he blew, Ralph noticed the last pair of bodies that reached the platform above a fluttering patch of black. The two boys, bullet-headed and with hair like tow, flung themselves down and lay grinning and panting at Ralph like dogs. They were twins, and the eye was shocked and incredulous at such cheery duplication. They breathed together, they grinned together, they were chunky and vital. They raised wet lips at Ralph, for they seemed provided with not quite enough skin, so that their profiles were blurred and their mouths pulled open. Piggy bent his flashing glasses to them and could be heard between the blasts, repeating their names.
+"Napping on me, Doug?"  President Franklin's voice broke through the
+images of the attack as he closed the door to his inner office behind
+him.
+
+"Hardly," Doug said, opening his eyes to see the intense gaze of his
+friend.  "Every time I try to sleep I see the attack again."
+
+Franklin dropped down into his normal chair, his back to his desk, and
+nodded.  The exhaustion was clear around the man's black eyes and
+wrinkled face.  Franklin had grown tired
+
+looking over his first years in office, but this alien attack had
+added years to his face.
+
+"So do I, Doug," Franklin said.  "And to be honest with you, it's
+making me damn angry."
+
+"You and a lot of other people," Doug said.  He'd spent the last few
+days on emergency trips to meet with heads of states, calming people,
+letting them know something was going to be done.  "But everyone feels
+so helpless, at least those who know about the aliens coming back
+again."
 
- "Sam, Eric, Sam, Eric."
+"How many know?"  Franklin asked.
 
- Then he got muddled; the twins shook their heads and pointed at each other and the crowd laughed.
+Doug shook his head.  "Not many at this point.  Less than a couple
+hundred, but it won't take long for others to start figuring it out."
+
+"And the rest of the world, those who don't know?"  Franklin asked.
+"How do you see them taking it?"
+
+"Shock," Doug said, used to having Franklin quiz him on common people's
+reactions around the world.  "Mourning the dead.  And celebration that
+the aliens are gone and that we won."
 
- At last Ralph ceased to blow and sat there, the conch trailing from one hand, his head bowed on his knees. As the echoes died away so did the laughter, and there was silence.
+Franklin snorted.  "We didn't win.  I'm not sure we even really
+bothered the bastards."
+
+Mickelson couldn't agree more.
+
+"Well," Franklin said, his voice turning cold and low.  "That's not
+going to happen next time.  We're not going to just let them come here,
+take what they want, and kill our people."
+
+Mickelson knew this wasn't just another of Franklin's speeches.  He had
+known Franklin long enough to see when all the political screens and
+faces were gone and he was being the real Franklin.  And this was one
+of those times.
+
+But unless something major had changed in the last few hours while
+Mickelson had been on the plane home from Great Britain, there wasn't
+any way to stop the aliens that he knew of.
+
+"Oh," Mickelson said, sighing and leaning back.  "I wish it were that
+easy."
+
+Franklin pinned Mickelson with his stare, the anger clearly being held
+in check just below the surface.  "I've seen enough death over the past
+week to last me a thousand lifetimes.  Those bastards aren't going to
+do it again."
+
+Mickelson sat forward and faced his president.  "You have a way to stop
+them?"
+
+"Damn right I do," Franklin said.  "We're going to blow that damn
+planet of theirs right out of the system before they get another chance
+to hurt us."
+
+For a second Mickelson didn't understand exactly what the president was
+telling him.  The words seemed to make no sense.
+
+"We're going to attack them?"  Mickelson said.
+
+Franklin smiled, but there was no merriment behind the smile or in his
+eyes.  "You bet your ass we're going to," President Franklin said. "And
+they're not even going to know what hit them."
+
+April 24, 2018
+
+8:10 a.m. Pacific Time
+
+173 Days Until Second Harvest
+
+Leo Cross clung to the edge of his seat, feeling the plastic bite into
+his fingers.  His heart was pounding harder than usual.  He'd been in a
+lot of helicopters and landed in a lot of strange places, but none of
+the landings had ever made him nervous before.  It was the black dust
+that unnerved him.  The black dust and the flat land where houses,
+businesses, and people should be.
+
+He glanced around the copter.  The pilot was concentrating on the path
+before them.  His navigator, an Army man whose name Cross had already
+forgotten, watched with tightlipped
+
+determination.  Cross turned.  Behind him, Lowry Jamison looked
+slightly queasy.
+
+Jamison was a big man--a former college quarterback who would have gone
+on to play pro ball if it weren't for his heroics in the Rose Bowl
+several years back.  He'd twisted his knee with six minutes remaining.
+The coach had wanted him out, but the second-string quarterback had
+already been sidelined with a rotator cuff injury before the game.  The
+third string was a freshman who'd never played in the regular season.
+Jamison finished out the game, running fifteen yards to set up a field
+goal, and giving his team the three points they needed to win.
+Unfortunately, he'd torn cartilage in the knee, and never played ball
+again.
+
+Unfortunately for Jamison.  Fortunately for the rest of the world.  For
+Jamison had a diabolical mind, and once he could no longer use it
+toward a career in football, he turned his attention to physics.  He
+worked for Nan Tech same as Portia Groopman, another member of Cross's
+team.  Unlike Portia, Jamison didn't work on nanotechnology per se, but
+on ways to make nanotechnology impossible to detect.
+
+Right now, however, he didn't look like a man who knew how to hide
+things already too tiny to be seen by the naked eye.  He looked like a
+man who thought the helicopter was going to crash.
+
+Cross had flown with Jamison before.  Jamison was not afraid of flying,
+or even of helicopters.  He had the same reaction to this trip the rest
+of them did.
+
+The thing was, they were prepared.  They knew what they were going to
+face.  And they had had warning as the copter brought them in from the
+north.  They were following the coastline, looking at the ocean dash
+against rocks.  They flew low enough that Cross could see homes built
+on the mountainside, cars parked in the driveways, toys in the yards.
+As they passed Santa Cruz, he watched the cars crawl on the highways
+beside the tacky tourist traps.  There were more Army vehicles
+
+on the roads than he had ever seen before.  Humvees, trucks-all green,
+all moving swiftly.  Things looked normal here, but he doubted they
+were.  He doubted things were normal anywhere in the world anymore.
+
+The copter turned slightly, following the coastline inward as they
+entered Monterey Bay.  The pilot, unable to talk because of the thrum
+of the engine and the whap-whap-whap of the blades above them, turned,
+tapped Cross on the shoulder, and pointed.  Cross leaned forward in his
+chair and saw For a moment, he didn't know how to describe it.  He had
+flown this way before, once in a low-flying private plane, and he still
+remembered it: all the seaside towns nestled against the bay, the
+sailing ships, the bright, blue ocean.  There were the remains of
+canneries, some of them unable to be torn down because John Steinbeck
+had written about them in the 1930s, and piers that went out into that
+sparkling water.  The communities, from the air, seemed to blend into
+one another, and he remembered thinking how lovely they were, how
+perfect, how typically American West Coast.  The kinds of places where
+people always wanted to live but never could.
+
+Many of the communities remained.  Around the curve of the coastline,
+he saw Castroville, Marina, and thenA shadow across the land.
+
+The peninsula that provided the home for the city of Monterey was still
+there, but instead of one of the most beautiful cities in California,
+there was blackness, rubble, and nothing else.  No pier, no ships.
+
+No people.
+
+That was when Cross gripped his seat.  He was glad for the noise, the
+constant roar that copters still made, when all other motorized
+vehicles were built quieter and quieter.  He wasn't sure what sound he
+made as he saw the destruction approach, but he knew it wasn't good.
+Perhaps he moaned.  Perhaps he swore.  Perhaps he simply gasped.
+
+All he knew was that a knot had formed in his throat.  Swallowing was
+hard, and so was breathing.  His throat was so tight, and his emotions
+so close to the surface, that he feared a deep breath would make him
+lose what fragile control he had.
+
+The blackness covered the coastline as far as his eye could see.
+
+The copter was slowing down as it came in for its landing.  Cross's
+grip on the seat grew tighter.  He had seen the dust, studied the dust,
+even held bits of it in various labs back in Washington, D.C. The
+television stations had shown images of the destruction for the past
+ten days. Cross had seen satellite images, still photographs, infrared
+images, and all sorts of spectral analyses.  But nothing had prepared
+him for being here, in person, seeing the destruction up close.
+
+Perhaps he had been too busy to let it sink in before now.  Yes, he had
+watched as the alien ships released the clouds of black dust over six
+large regions worldwide.  The first attack had occurred in the Amazon,
+Central America, and in central Africa.  He and Brittany Archer, the
+head of the Space Telescope Science Institute--a beautiful woman who
+had miraculously become his lover through all of this--had watched the
+attack in the media room of his D.C. home.
+
+They had felt helpless, even though they had been involved with the
+Tenth Planet Project from the beginning.  In fact, it was Cross who had
+put the world scientists--and ultimately, the world leaders--on alert
+that something would cause worldwide devastation sometime that year. He
+had seen the same result in the archaeological record every 2,006
+years, and had known it was coming.  At first, however, he hadn't known
+what or from where.
+
+The copter headed toward a white space in the middle of all that
+blackness.  The military had cleared off a section of land on the
+Monterey peninsula, probably where the Wharf used to be.  He didn't
+know how they had gotten rid of the black dust--whether they had
+scraped it off into the sea or whether
+
+they had scooped it up and saved it for later study.  But as the
+copter approached, he could see the white patch like a ray of light in
+the middle of a very, very dark night.
+
+He let out a small sigh.  Monterey hadn't been destroyed until the
+second attack.  The world governments had united, mostly through the
+United States, and had fought the aliens as best they could.  A number
+of lucky shots in the Amazon had destroyed alien ships.
+
+The aliens had retaliated by targeting highly populated areas: South
+Vietnam, central France, and this part of California.  The images had
+been even more horrifying than the first time.  Cross had sat alone in
+his media room, staring at people who were trying to escape: some on
+foot, others by car.  The traffic had been backed up for miles, and
+most of those people hadn't escaped in time.
+
+The copter hovered over the ground.  Its propeller blades whipped the
+nearby black dust into the air.  Cross ducked as the dust hit the
+plastic windshields, although he had been reassured that it was
+harmless.  It had been through test after test.
+
+In fact, he had already suspected it was harmless.  It had been his
+friend, Edwin Bradshaw, who had discovered the little nanomachines that
+the aliens sent down.  Portia Groop man, Nan Tech twenty-year-old whiz
+kid, had determined that the nanomachines had two functions: collecting
+and storing organic material.
+
+That was why bits of metal rose from the dust like dinosaur skeletons,
+why the concrete foundations of buildings remained.  Only the organic
+material had been destroyed.
+
+The gray dust was just a byproduct.
+
+The dust coated the windows as the copter bumped to a gentle landing.
+The pilot shut off the copter.  He had warned them earlier to wait
+until the blades stopped whirring before leaving the copter--not for
+safety's sake, but so that they wouldn't get blinded by the swirling
+dust.  Cross had been
+
+told that the ocean dampness had pasted a lot of it down, but not
+enough to keep the force of the copter winds from stirring it up.
+
+"It's something, isn't it?"  the pilot shouted as the blades slowed.
+
+"You could say that."  Lowry Jamison sounded gruffer than usual, as if
+his throat was as tight as Cross's.
+
+"Saw you duck, Doc," the pilot said to Cross.
+
+"I knew it couldn't get in here, but it still unnerved me."
+
+"It bothers all of us," the pilot said.  "I got this gig because I'm
+the only one who can land here safely.  Everyone else blinks at the
+wrong time.  Too many images of dissolving people, if you know what I
+mean."
+
+Cross did know.  The images had been repeated so many times on
+television that the idea of having the black dust touch him made his
+skin crawl.  Still, he was here to sift through it, to find, if he
+could, some of the nanomachines that he believed the aliens left
+behind.
+
+"Dust's settling," the Army man said.
+
+It was, but it seemed to be taking forever.  The black stuff was so
+thin, so light that even when stuck together by moisture it floated up
+like carbon flakes from a burned building.
+
+The remains of everything organic.  Or, as one of the scientists in the
+Project had called it: the useless stuff, the waste.  The organic
+material the aliens believed they couldn't use.
+
+Cross opened the copter door, disturbing more dust.  His task would be
+more difficult than he had thought.
+
+He climbed outside and stepped onto the clear patch.  It was bigger up
+close than he had thought it would be.  They had actually landed on
+what had once been a parking lot.
+
+The smell of the sea, sharp, salty, and tangy, surprised him.  Somehow
+he had thought the dust would have an odor all its own.  If it did, he
+couldn't smell it.  The air was fresh, probably fresher than it would
+have been if Monterey were still here.
+
+The thought made him sad.  He moved away from the copter and stared at
+the devastation around him.  He had expected it to be completely flat,
+a level black surface as far as the eye could see.  But it wasn't.  He
+could actually make out shapes: the steel reinforcements in old
+buildings; the concrete supports that stood, like columns, in the sea;
+the metal hulls of boats that had washed ashore.  He could see, without
+much effort, the layout of the city, the Wharf, the harbor.
+
+He could see what once had been.
+
+That, actually, was his strength.  Even though Cross had degrees in a
+number of areas, his specialty was archaeology.  He had been trained in
+using his imagination to determine, from the smallest of hints, what a
+culture--or a place--had been like.
+
+It didn't take much imagination here.
+
+"Damn," Jamison said.  He had stepped out of the copter and stopped
+beside Cross.  Cross didn't know how long Jamison had been standing
+there.
+
+"It's going to be a needle in a haystack," Cross said, turning the
+conversation immediately to business.  He didn't want to focus on what
+had been.  If they did that, they might not be able to work.
 
- Within the diamond haze of the beach something dark was fumbling along. Ralph saw it first, and watched till the intentness of his gaze drew all eyes that way. Then the creature stepped from mirage on to clear sand, and they saw that the darkness was not all shadow but mostly clothing. The creature was a party of boys, marching approximately in step in two parallel lines and dressed in strangely eccentric clothing. Shorts, shirts, and different garments they carried in their hands; but each boy wore a square black cap with a silver badge on it. Their bodies, from throat to ankle, were hidden by black cloaks which bore a long silver cross on the left breast and each neck was finished off with a hambone frill. The heat of the tropics, the descent, the search for food, and now this sweaty march along the blazing beach had given them the complexions of newly washed plums. The boy who controlled them was dressed in the same way though his cap badge was golden. When his party was about ten yards from the platform he shouted an order and they halted, gasping, sweating, swaying in the fierce light. The boy himself came forward, vaulted on to the platform with his cloak flying, and peered into what to him was almost complete darkness.
+"We knew it was going to be hard," Jamison said.  "I just didn't
+imagine it would be like this."
+
+Cross hadn't either.  He had imagined stepping into the dust, using the
+device Jamison had designed, and searching for one of the nanomachines
+that he hoped had been left by the aliens.  But he hadn't imagined
+walking around metal bicycle frames and bronze fisherman statues.
 
- "Where's the man with the trumpet?"
+"I guess we should start," he said.
 
- Ralph, sensing his sun-blindness, answered him.
+Jamison nodded.  He handed Cross a thin wand with a large glass base.
+It looked like a combination of an old-fashioned metal detector and a
+vacuum cleaner designed to clean stairs.  But it was much, much more
+than that.  It had been invented to find machines too small to be seen
+by the human eye.
 
- "There's no man with a trumpet. Only me."
+"I hope it works," Jamison said.
 
- The boy came close and peered down at Ralph, screwing up his face as he did so. What he saw of the fair-haired boy with the creamy shell on his knees did not seem to satisfy him. He turned quickly, his black cloak circling.
+"Me, too."  He had only used it once, and that had been in the R&D room
+at Nan Tech  The wands, as Jamison called them, were prototypes.  In
+fact, Jamison and his team had modified an existing device that they
+hadn't planned on selling.
 
- "Isn't there a ship, then?"
+Jamison's team specialized in hiding nanotechnology, in making it
+completely undetectable to any modern machine.  Jamison had told Cross
+that in confidence, assuming that Cross had the same high-level
+security clearance as most people who visited the R&D section of Nan
+Tech  Even though Nan Tech was a private firm, the bulk of its Secrecy
+Division, as Jamison playfully called it, was funded by the military.
 
- Inside the floating cloak he was tall, thin, and bony; and his hair was red beneath the black cap. His face was crumpled and freckled, and ugly without silliness. Out of this face stared two light blue eyes, frustrated now, and turning, or ready to turn, to anger.
+The fear had been, before the aliens had come, that other countries
+would develop a series of nanoweapons, things that would destroy
+electrical systems.  Yet the nanoweapons would be undetectable, and
+even if they were traced to the source, they would be impossible to
+find and remove.
 
- "Isn't there a man here?"
+Military intelligence had shown that no other country was close to
+developing anything like that, so after the initial wave of research on
+finding nanoweapons, the research shifted to making and hiding
+nanoweapons.  Jamison's division was split: half the division
+discovered ways to hide the weapons while the other half discovered
+ways of finding them.
 
- Ralph spoke to his back.
+So, after Cross got a chance to think about it, he went to Nan Tech for
+help.  Finding the nanomachines--an actual nano machine, not a
+fossilized one from a previous visit by these aliens--might provide a
+way to understand what they were fighting.
 
- "No. We're having a meeting. Come and join in."
+And better yet, fight back.
 
- The group of cloaked boys began to scatter from close line. The tall boy shouted at them.
+That was what Cross thought about the most.  Stopping the next attack
+and fighting back.  Humanity had to.  There was no choice.
 
- "Choir! Stand still!"
+In spite of himself, Cross shuddered.
 
- Wearily obedient, the choir huddled into line and stood there swaying in the sun. None the less, some began to protest faintly.
+Cross knew that he and his team weren't the only ones working on ways
+to fight the aliens.  There were branches of military all over the
+world working on ways to stop the alien ships, but Cross and his team
+were focusing on stopping what the aliens dropped.  The
+nanoharvesters.
 
- "But, Merridew. Please, Merridew . . . can't we?"
+Nonetheless, here in the field, Cross felt out of place.  He wasn't a
+hands-on technology guy, and he'd only recently learned about
+nanomachines.  He was in Monterey because he knew what the nanomachines
+looked like, at least in fossilized form.  He had been studying them
+since before the alien ships arrived.  People like Jamison could study
+them as well, but they didn't have quite as much experience as Cross
+did.
 
- Then one of the boys flopped on his face in the sand and the line broke up. They heaved the fallen boy to the platform and let him lie. Merridew, his eyes staring, made the best of a bad job.
+And, in fact, the one man who had more experience than Cross--his
+friend Edwin Bradshaw--was in Brazil with Portia Groopman, the genius
+of nanotechnology, using the same devices to try to find alien
+machines.
 
- "All right then. Sit down. Let him alone."
+He hefted the wand Jamison had given him.  It was light, so light that
+it felt as if he were holding a toy.  Only the glass base gave it any
+weight at all.
 
- "But Merridew."
+When Cross had tested the device back at Nan Tech Jamison had
+apologized for the glass.  "It's more tempered than bulletproof glass,"
+he had said, "but it does make the wand heavier than we want.  We've
+just found that glass is the best substance for the base."
 
- "He's always throwing a faint," said Merridew. "He did in Gib.; and Addis; and at matins over the precentor."
+Heavier.  The wand wasn't heavy at all.  In fact, if it were any
+lighter, Cross might forget that he was holding anything.
 
- This last piece of shop brought sniggers from the choir, who perched like black birds on the criss-cross trunks and examined Ralph with interest. Piggy asked no names. He was intimidated by this uniformed superiority and the offhand authority in Merridew's voice. He shrank to the other side of Ralph and busied himself with his glasses.
+Jamison clutched his wand as if it were a golf club and he were staring
+at the first tee on a complicated hole.  With his other hand, he shaded
+his eyes.
 
- Merridew turned to Ralph.
+"This stuff goes on forever," he said.  He sounded mournful.
 
- "Aren't there any grownups?"
+Cross nodded.
 
- "No."
+"You know the odds against finding a single nanomachine?"  Jamison
+asked.
 
- Merridew sat down on a trunk and looked round the circle.
+In fact, Cross knew them exactly.  "They're not as slim as you might
+think," he said.  "Because there is a lot of ground
 
- "Then we'll have to look after ourselves."
+that got covered, the aliens had to use billions and billions of those
+nanomachines.  Even if they left one in a million behind, there should
+be hundreds of thousands of them scattered in this dust."
 
- Secure on the other side of Ralph, Piggy spoke timidly.
+"Machines smaller than a speck of dust."  Jamison sighed.  "Just
+because we think they're here doesn't mean these wands will find
+them."
 
- "That's why Ralph made a meeting. So as we can decide what to do. We've heard names. That's Johnny. Those two--they're twins, Sam 'n Eric. Which is Eric--? You? No--you're Sam--"
+Cross knew that.  They'd had that discussion back at Nan Tech.  "Why're
+you getting pessimistic on me now, Lowry?"
 
- "I'm Sam--"
+Jamison didn't answer.  He just stared at the blackness in front of
+them.
 
- "'n I'm Eric."
+Cross understood.  Over the years, he had stood on hundreds of sites of
+devastation--devastation that had ruined civilizations thousands of
+years before.  He had sifted through the archaeological record, held
+black dust compressed by centuries, and wondered at it.
 
- "We'd better all have names," said Ralph, "so I'm Ralph."
+He had never faced it in real time, never thought what it meant--at
+least not in real terms--to the survivors.
 
- "We got most names," said Piggy. "Got 'em just now."
+Cross clapped Jamison on the back.  "You've faced tough odds before."
 
- "Kids' names," said Merridew. "Why should I be Jack? I'm Merridew."
+"Yeah," Jamison said softly.  "But I always knew someone would win the
+game."
 
- Ralph turned to him quickly. This was the voice of one who knew his own mind.
+"You know that now," Cross said.
 
- "Then," went on Piggy, "that boy--I forget--"
+Jamison looked at him, his broad face empty of all emotion, but his
+eyes were alive with something.  Fear?  Probably.  Cross suspected that
+emotion was underneath all of their facades.
 
- "You're talking too much," said Jack Merridew. "Shut up, Fatty."
+Fear and anger.
 
- Laughter arose.
+"Right now, we're the underdogs," Cross said.  "And this is our Hail
+Mary pass.  We're going to fight back and win this."
 
- "He's not Fatty," cried Ralph, "his real name's Piggy!"
+Jamison smiled.  "Your analogy sucks."
 
- "Piggy!"
+Cross shrugged.  "I'm not much of a football fan."
 
- "Piggy!"
+"It shows."  Jamison pressed a small area at the tip of the wand, then
+pressed the base against the black dust.  Dust swirled within the glass
+base, just like it would in a vacuum cleaner,
 
- "Oh, Piggy!"
+and then it rose around Jamison.  He coughed and shut off the wand.
 
- A storm of laughter arose and even the tiniest child joined in. For the moment the boys were a closed circuit of sympathy with Piggy outside: he went very pink, bowed his head and cleaned his glasses again.
+His face was covered with dust.
 
- Finally the laughter died away and the naming continued. There was Maurice, next in size among the choir boys to Jack, but broad and grinning all the time. There was a slight, furtive boy whom no one knew, who kept to himself with an inner intensity of avoidance and secrecy. He muttered that his name was Roger and was silent again. Bill, Robert, Harold, Henry; the choir boy who had fainted sat up against a palm trunk, smiled pallidly at Ralph and said that his name was Simon.
+"We need some kind of suit," he said.
 
- Jack spoke.
+"Already thought of that."  Cross nodded toward the copter.  The Army
+guy was there, holding a box.  "You just got ahead of me a little.  I
+didn't expect you to turn that thing on so quickly."
 
- "We've got to decide about being rescued."
+"Hey, if we're going to go for the Hail Mary pass," Jamison said,
+"we've got to move quickly."
 
- There was a buzz. One of the small boys, Henry, said that he wanted to go home.
+"Yes, we do," Cross said.  More than he wanted to admit.  Because in
+one hundred and seventy-three days, the alien ships would be back.  And
+if Earth didn't find a way to fight them, the ships would again take
+what they wanted.  Cross felt every second tick away, as if second by
+second, the blood was dripping from the body of humanity.
 
- "Shut up," said Ralph absently. He lifted the conch. "Seems to me we ought to have a chief to decide things."
+April 25, 2018
 
- "A chief! A chief!"
+10:12 Universal Time
 
- "I ought to be chief," said Jack with simple arrogance, "because I'm chapter chorister and head boy. I can sing C sharp."
+172 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- Another buzz.
+Commander Cicoi stood on the balcony of Command Central, overlooking
+the valley below.  Malmur was a beautiful planet--or it had been, in
+the times before.  He had once been privileged to see the Stored
+Memories in the sacred vault, images of Malmur when it had its own sun,
+when it had life every day of every year.
 
- "Well then," said Jack, "I--"
+Now the valley below him was just a cut in the dirt, with thousands of
+solar panels gathering the life-giving energy covering its slopes.
+There were suggestions of the past.  The river that had once flowed
+through the valley left an impression time could not erase.  Smooth
+stones covered that area
 
- He hesitated. The dark boy, Roger, stirred at last and spoke up.
+under the panel, and a winding depression suggested where the river
+had once been.
 
- "Let's have a vote."
+If Cicoi brought down all but two of his eye stalks he could almost see
+the water flowing, as it did in the Stored Memories.  But try as he
+might, he could not imagine the greenery that had once surrounded the
+river, nor the creatures--long sacrificed--that flew overhead or bathed
+within its depths.
 
- "Yes!"
+It was said that the Malmuria began their existence in the once-fertile
+oceans of Malmur, oceans that, like the rivers, were long gone.  The
+tentacles and eye stalks that were such an important part of their race
+once had different purposes within the water.
 
- "Vote for chief!"
+So said the Keepers of the Stored Memories, the only ones allowed to
+study the past for its own sake.  Most Malmuria spent their brief time
+awake struggling for survival, procreating, repairing damage, and
+eating enough to make it through the next period of darkness.
 
- "Let's vote--"
+Once, so said the Keepers, the Malmuria were a magnificent people. They
+had vast cities and miraculous technologies.  They thrived on a healthy
+planet that orbited its own sun.
 
- This toy of voting was almost as pleasing as the conch. Jack started to protest but the clamor changed from the general wish for a chief to an election by acclaim of Ralph himself. None of the boys could have found good reason for this; what intelligence had been shown was traceable to Piggy while the most obvious leader was Jack. But there was a stillness about Ralph as he sat that marked him out: there was his size, and attractive appearance; and most obscurely, yet most powerfully, there was the conch. The being that had blown that, had sat waiting for them on the platform with the delicate thing balanced on his knees, was set apart.
+But a disaster struck, a disaster so horrible that none were allowed to
+speak of it, even now.  The only way that the Malmuria survived was due
+to the wisdom of the Ancients.  They foresaw the disaster in time to
+develop a way to survive it: they changed the entire planet into what
+it was now.  And survive was what Malmur did.
 
- "Him with the shell."
+Now the planet had a strange orbit in a different sun's system.
+Malmur's survival depended on a rigorous structure of harvesting that
+began early in the First Pass near the sun's third planet, ceased as
+Malmur disappeared behind the sun, and continued when Malmur passed the
+third planet again on the way back out.  Then Malmur was plunged into
+darkness, a darkness so long and terrible nothing could survive on the
+planet's surface.  The Malmuria themselves went into a cold
 
- "Ralph! Ralph!"
+sleep in specially designed units and were awakened only after the
+First determined it was time.
 
- "Let him be chief with the trumpet-thing."
+Cicoi did not know how the First knew it was time, but in each Pass
+that Cicoi had experienced, the First had awakened the population at
+the exact moment.
 
- Ralph raised a hand for silence.
+Cicoi had been among the early arisers for a hundred Passes now.  He
+was considered one of the young leaders, someone who would come into
+his strengths a hundred Passes in the future.
 
- "All right. Who wants Jack for chief?"
+He was not prepared to be a Commander now.
 
- With dreary obedience the choir raised their hands.
+Cicoi's upper tentacles rose and fell.  His eye stalks floated around
+his face before he turned all of them to the valley below.  He had to
+remember--it was important to remember-that once that valley had been
+great.  And now it was no different from the rest of Malmur.  Covered
+in black solar panels, dark and dusty and empty underneath the
+panels.
+
+When Cicoi awoke on this Pass, he was a general, yes, but a young
+general.  And since then he had been promoted.
+
+He had become, with no special training, Commander of the South.  He
+had known that he was in line for this position.  But he had expected
+ten Passes of instruction, ten Passes of apprenticeship, and ten Passes
+of guided rule before he ever took over the position from his
+predecessor.
+
+But his predecessor, and his predecessor's generals, had all reported
+to the recycler without having to be instructed to do so.  They were no
+longer useful as living beings.  They were killed, their bodies changed
+to much needed fuel and stored until the long journey into the dark
+night.
+
+Such was the price of failure.
+
+Cicoi's tentacles drooped further.  The very thought of the losses
+overwhelmed him.
+
+In all of Cicoi's memory, indeed in the memory of all Mal muria, even
+the Keepers of the Stored Memories, no ship had ever been lost during a
+harvest.  No disaster had ever struck on the third planet.  Always, the
+Sulas had been sent and
+
+retrieved.  Sometimes the creatures of the third planet had fought,
+but never in a meaningful way.
+
+This time, the creatures had developed into a stronger people.  They
+had technology, which they had never had before.  They were able to
+destroy seven ships.
+
+It was a disaster of untold proportions.  Even now, when he should be
+examining the losses, trying to compensate for them, Cicoi preferred to
+stare into the valley below and imagine times long past.  For he knew
+what the losses meant, just as all Malmuria did.
+
+They meant that thousands of his kind would not be able to wake up on
+the next Pass due to the lack of ships to harvest food.  They meant
+that thousands of his kind on this Pass would have reduced rations,
+making the long, cold sleep much more dangerous.  The birthrate would
+be reduced for many Passes to come, until a balance was again reached
+with the number of harvester ships and the population.
+
+He would not make those decisions.  He would not decide whose rations
+would be cut or whose chance at procreation would be denied.  Nor would
+he decide which workers had to forgo rest in order to repair the damage
+already done, to build more Sulas, and to attempt--since it had not
+been attempted in a thousand Passes--to build more ships.
+
+No.  His task was in some ways ethically easier, but practically much
+more difficult.
+
+He had to figure out how to minimize those losses.  He had to find ways
+to improve the yield on the next Pass, to harvest enough food with the
+equipment they had so that some of the losses below would not be as
+severe.
+
+If he had the experience his predecessor had, he might make the right
+decisions.  But Cicoi was new to the job, without training, and fearful
+of the consequences.  He had seen the battles with the creatures from
+the third planet.  He realized now what he had not seen on the last
+several Passes.
+
+These were not primitives.  These were creatures that had in common
+with Malmuria a mind and a heart.  They too had died defending their
+lands.  They had technology, and with it, a memory.  They would do all
+they could to fight again.
+
+He could not assume that they would be as easily defeated this time.
+
+At least the energy screens and panels were working at full efficiency.
+Malmur was taking all that it could from this sun, storing it, and
+keeping it so that the planet would survive the dark part of its long
+orbit.
+
+Cicoi raised his eye stalks toward the sky.  The light that Malmur
+received in this, its nearest contact to the sun, was thin and pale and
+extremely weak.  Still, the brightness all but overwhelmed him.  He
+pocketed seven of his eye stalks and continued to look above.  Strange
+to think that something so simple as light, something so small as heat,
+would affect a world like theirs.
+
+This was the only time in the entire Wakening Cycle mat he could stand
+on the balcony without the warmers being activated.  The balcony was
+usually not used because warmers were a waste of energy.
+
+He usually valued his time here.
+
+But not today.  Today he knew how much it cost.
+
+He turned and glided toward the doors.  They eased open.  His
+assistants were standing on their circles, working their floating
+units, attempting to maximize effort.  His Second was bent over a
+representation of the third planet, looking for the lush est region,
+the place with the fewest creatures and the most food.
 
- "Who wants me?"
+Cicoi was beginning to believe such places did not exist any longer.
 
- Every hand outside the choir except Piggy's was raised immediately. Then Piggy, too, raised his hand grudgingly into the air.
+As he glided to his circle in the center of the room, his assistants
+rose on the tips of their lower tentacles and raised their eye stalks
+so that all faced him.  He waved a careless eyestalk at them all.
 
- Ralph counted.
+"I thank you for the honor," he said.  "But continue your work."
 
- "I'm chief then."
+He would continue his.  He un pocketed two more eye stalks and raised a
+small image of the third planet for his own use when he heard ten soft
+chimes.
 
- The circle of boys broke into applause. Even the choir applauded; and the freckles on Jack's face disappeared under a blush of mortification. He started up, then changed his mind and sat down again while the air rang. Ralph looked at him, eager to offer something.
+Irritation made his lower tentacles curl.  Only he could ring the
+chimes, and then only when he had an emergency.  He raised all of his
+eye stalks and bent them in displeasure at his assistants.
 
- "The choir belongs to you, of course."
+They had flattened themselves on the floor, tentacles covering each
+other in proper pattern.
 
- "They could be the army--"
+The chimes sounded again, ten times, and as he heard each, he realized
+that these were not his chimes.  They were too high-pitched, too
+warm.
 
- "Or hunters--"
+Too old.
 
- "They could be--"
+A shiver made his eye stalks stand on end.  His assistants lowered
+themselves farther.  At first, they had apparently thought, as he had,
+that the chimes had come from him.  But on the second chiming, they
+realized, as he had, that the chimes had come from a higher
+authority.
 
- The suffusion drained away from Jack's face. Ralph waved again for silence.
+Indeed, the highest authority.
+
+The Elders.
 
- "Jack's in charge of the choir. They can be--what do you want them to be?"
+Cicoi let his own lower tentacles slither outward.  Nothing was normal
+about this Awakening.  Nothing was going as it should.
+
+He had never heard of a summoning by the Elders.  Not in a hundred
+Passes.
+
+The Elders were the survivors, the brains of the Ancients who had first
+designed Malmur for its journey across interstellar space.  When Malmur
+was knocked out of its orbit around its original sun, it was the Elders
+who devised the plan that had saved them all.  To make sure Malmur
+survived its centuries-long travels across deep space, the Elders left
+their bodies and only lived in an energy-free form, almost
+
+pure thought, in the center of Malmur.  They had not communicated with
+any leader since the very first cycle of this new star.
+
+Some even said the Elders had allowed themselves to be recycled long
+ago, that the Elders no longer watched over the Malmuria, that the
+Malmuria were on their own.
+
+And many of the dissenters used as proof the loss of seven ships, and
+the disaster that lay ahead.
+
+Again the chimes sounded.  Cicoi pocketed all but one of his eye stalks
+His lower tentacles were splayed across the floor.  He could not cower
+here, like his assistants.  He was a young leader no longer.  He was
+Commander of the South, and those chimes were for him.
+
+If tradition was to be followed, and it would be, then the series of
+chimes would ring ten times.  If he was not in the Elders Circle by the
+last of the chimes, he would no longer hold his position as Commander
+of the South.
+
+He was tempted.  He had lost the arrogance that had made him one of the
+youngest generals in the fleet.  He knew that he had been promoted past
+his skills, that the tasks laid out for him had defeated a better
+person.
+
+But Cicoi was not a coward.  Slowly he slid his tentacles beneath him.
+Then he wrapped his upper tentacles around his body and glided from the
+room.
+
+That the Elders had sought him out worried him, but he knew the summons
+was based on the loss of ships, the destruction that had happened on
+the third planet.  In that, he found comfort.  The Malmuria still had
+their greatest minds to help them solve the problems.
+
+No.  That was not what worried him.  What worried him was the fact that
+the situation had become so grave, the Elders had again taken interest
+in Malmur.  Until now, they had been content to allow the Malmuria to
+handle their own problems.
+
+The Elders must have felt that this problem was beyond theMalmuria's
+skills.  So the situation was as extraordinary as Cicoi feared it
+was.
 
- "Hunters."
+And his worst fear, the one he could barely admit to himself, was that
+the situation was so extraordinary, not even the Elders would know how
+to make things right.
+
+2
+
+April 26,2018
 
- Jack and Ralph smiled at each other with shy liking. The rest began to talk eagerly.
+1:13 p.m. Pacific Daylight Time
 
- Jack stood up.
+171 Days Until Second Harvest
+
+For two days, Leo Cross had been working in the swirling black dust.
+His skin still crawled when he thought about where the dust had come
+from, but he thought about it less often.
+
+He was standing in the center of what had once been a populated area.
+He wasn't familiar enough with Monterey to know exactly what the area
+was, or who had populated it, and for once, he was glad he didn't
+know.
 
- "All right, choir. Take off your togs."
+He wore an environmental suit provided by the Army, but instead of a
+gas mask, he wore a simple doctor's mask over his mouth and nose.  His
+eyes were covered with welder's goggles, and he had a hat with flaps
+that covered his ears.  The dust still got into everything--his
+clothing, his shoes, even under his fingernails--but not in the
+quantity he had first feared.  Even though he knew the short-term
+effects of this stuff were negligible, he was worried about the long
+term.
+
+If the human race had a long term coming to it.
 
- As if released from class, the choir boys stood up, chattered, piled their black cloaks on the grass. Jack laid his on the trunk by Ralph. His grey shorts were sticking to him with sweat. Ralph glanced at them admiringly, and when Jack saw his glance he explained.
+Jamison was working about a block away.  They had discovered that, if
+they worked side by side, the dust cloud was almost unmanageable.
+Because the wands hadn't been designed
+
+for work in such fine material, the slight pressure with which the
+wands sorted through the dust created a cloud.  Cross discovered that,
+unless he shut off his wand for nearly five minutes, the dust wouldn't
+settle.  Even though the days had been sunny, he had felt as if he were
+working in twilight.  What light he did get was filtered through the
+blackness and felt ominous.  The times in the day when the ocean breeze
+picked up and cleared the dust clouds faster were the best.
 
- "I tried to get over that hill to see if there was water all round. But your shell called us."
+It didn't help that the wand jammed a lot.  Large items like snaps and
+zippers from clothing, pins that had once been in someone's hip, or
+even--God help him--dental fillings jammed the machine hourly.  He
+actually began making a pile of the stuff on the first day and quit
+when the pile had become a mound.
 
- Ralph smiled and held up the conch for silence.
+He didn't like to think about what it symbolized.  All those lives
+lost.  So many that the U.S. government was now saying it doubted it
+could account for all of them.  There were no bodies left to identify.
+Whenever people were reported missing from that particular area, they
+were considered dead.  It was the only way the government could deal
+with the numbers.  It also prevented a ton of lawsuits that survivors
+were going to file against the insurance industry.
 
- "Listen, everybody. I've got to have time to think things out. I can't decide what to do straight off. If this isn't an island we might be rescued straight away. So we've got to decide if this is an island. Everybody must stay round here and wait and not go away. Three of us--if we take more we'd get all mixed, and lose each other--three of us will go on an expedition and find out. I'll go, and Jack, and, and . . ."
+Although Cross knew those lawsuits would get filed, no self-respecting
+insurance company covered its clients for "death resulting from alien
+attack."
 
- He looked round the circle of eager faces. There was no lack of boys to choose from.
+He shook his head.  His humor had become mordant, probably due to a
+lack of sleep.  He quit at sundown, just as Jamison did, but every time
+he closed his eyes, he could hear the clinking and then silence that
+resulted whenever something got stuck in the wand.  That first night,
+he had slept and dreamed of finding fingers, or bones, or eyes when he
+went to clear the jam.
 
- "And Simon."
+He had awakened, a scream buried in his throat, and found it difficult
+to sleep soundly again.  It didn't surprise him to see Jamison up as
+well.  The two of them were now trading a stack
 
- The boys round Simon giggled, and he stood up, laughing a little. Now that the pallor of his faint was over, he was a skinny, vivid little boy, with a glance coming up from under a hut of straight hair that hung down, black and coarse.
+of quarters back and forth from their penny-ante midnight poker games,
+neither of them wanting to admit that anything was better than sleep.
 
- He nodded at Ralph.
+Cross's shoulders hurt, and so did the small of his back, but he kept
+working.  Neither he nor Jamison had found one of the nanomachines yet,
+but he knew they would.
 
- "I'll come."
+A hand touched Cross's shoulder and he jerked.  He turned to see
+Jamison, dust covering his mask and goggles, indicating with his head
+that it was time for lunch.
 
- "And I--"
+Eating lunch was almost as difficult as sleeping, but Cross knew he had
+to do at least one.  If he went without food and sleep he would be of
+no use to anyone.
 
- Jack snatched from behind him a sizable sheath-knife and clouted it into a trunk. The buzz rose and died away.
+He shut off the wand and let the dust settle.  It floated around him
+like ash on the air.  If he breathed just right, he could keep some of
+the flakes airborne.  The entire scenario freaked him out.
 
- Piggy stirred.
+He waited until the flakes settled slightly, blown on a slight breeze
+to his right, revealing the blue sky above him and the miles of
+blackness in front of him.  Somewhere in all of that, a single
+nanomachine, smaller than anything he could imagine himself making,
+waited.  Maybe more than a single one.
 
- "I'll come."
+He had to find it.
 
- Ralph turned to him.
+He turned, felt the dust swirl around his feet, and looked at the
+ocean.  Its blueness met the blueness of the sky at the horizon.  Even
+if the aliens came and harvested again, destroying any possibility for
+mankind to continue on the Earth, the ocean would still be here,
+reflecting beautifully toward the sky.
 
- "You're no good on a job like this."
+He found comfort in that.
 
- "All the same--"
+"Come on, Leo!"  Jamison shouted.
 
- "We don't want you," said Jack, flatly. "Three's enough."
+One of the trucks had arrived with the afternoon grub.  Usually Jamison
+and Cross had to slog to the nearest base.  But this time, Jamison was
+eating a burger from the side of the truck, looking like a chimney
+sweep at a tailgate party.
 
- Piggy's glasses flashed.
+The image made Cross smile.  He walked carefully through the gunk until
+he reached the edge of the road.  Then he waited
 
- "I was with him when he found the conch. I was with him before anyone else was."
+for the dust to settle again.  No sense in getting it on Jamison's
+food.
 
- Jack and the others paid no attention. There was a general dispersal. Ralph, Jack and Simon jumped off the platform and walked along the sand past the bathing pool. Piggy hung bumbling behind them.
+Cross's stomach was growling.  He'd only had a banana for breakfast,
+and only because he knew he had to eat something.  He barely remembered
+dinner the night before.  Some spaghetti like thing in the mess hall.
+Mostly he hadn't eaten.  He had pushed the food around pretending to
+eat.
 
- "If Simon walks in the middle of us," said Ralph, "then we could talk over his head."
+A burger actually sounded good.
 
- The three of them fell into step. This meant that every now and then Simon had to do a double shuffle to catch up with the others. Presently Ralph stopped and turned back to Piggy.
+It sounded normal.
 
- "Look."
+An Army officer sat inside the truck with the door open.  He was
+eating, too.  The burgers were wrapped in aluminum with a fast-food
+logo on the side.  He took a bacon cheeseburger, still warm, from the
+bag, and some soggy French fries.  They tasted like a bit of salted
+heaven.
 
- Jack and Simon pretended to notice nothing. They walked on.
+The officer, a blond man in his early twenties, handed Cross a Coke.
 
- "You can't come."
+Cross took it and drank.  The lemony sweetness tasted good, too.  He
+had to take better care of himself.
 
- Piggy's glasses were misted again--this time with humiliation.
+He was halfway through the cheeseburger when the officer spoke.
 
- "You told 'em. After what I said."
+"Dr.  Cross?"
 
- His face flushed, his mouth trembled.
+"Mmm?"  Cross hated answering when his mouth was full.
 
- "After I said I didn't want--"
+"That's him," Jamison said, reaching around him for another burger.
+"Damn, this is fine food."
 
- "What on earth are you talking about?"
+Cross swallowed.  "Is this what football players consider gourmet?"
 
- "About being called Piggy. I said I didn't care as long as they didn't call me Piggy; an' I said not to tell and then you went an' said straight out--"
+"Only if it has catsup," Jamison said, unwrapping the burger and taking
+a huge bite.
 
- Stillness descended on them. Ralph, looking with more understanding at Piggy, saw that he was hurt and crushed. He hovered between the two courses of apology or further insult.
+Cross wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  "Did you need me for
+something?"  he asked the officer.
 
- "Better Piggy than Fatty," he said at last, with the directness of genuine leadership, "and anyway, I'm sorry if you feel like that. Now go back, Piggy, and take names. That's your job. So long."
+The officer nodded.  He looked even younger than twenty, with his blond
+crew cut and his flaming red sunburn.  His eyes had shadows beneath
+them, though, just like everyone else who worked on this project.  It
+was their version of the thousand-yard stare.
 
- He turned and raced after the other two. Piggy stood and the rose of indignation faded slowly from his cheeks. He went back to the platform.
+"I wish I could say I was only here to bring you lunch, but you're
+wanted in Washington, sir, and I'm not allowed to leave until I take
+you with me."
 
- The three boys walked briskly on the sand. The tide was low and there was a strip of weed-strewn beach that was almost as firm as a road. A kind of glamour was spread over them and the scene and they were conscious of the glamour and made happy by it. They turned to each other, laughing excitedly, talking, not listening. The air was bright. Ralph, faced by the task of translating all this into an explanation, stood on his head and fell over. When they had done laughing, Simon stroked Ralph's arm shyly; and they had to laugh again.
+Jamison shot him a look.  Cross took a final bite of his burger, then
+set the rest of it down.  It no longer tasted as good.
 
- "Come on," said Jack presently, "we're explorers."
+"I've already told them I'm staying here," Cross said.
 
- "We'll go to the end of the island," said Ralph, "and look round the corner."
+"I'm not supposed to take no for an answer.  General Maddox's orders,
+sir."
 
- "If it is an island--"
+The officer said General Maddox's name as if she were God.  And maybe
+to him she was.  She was one of the members of the Joint Chiefs of
+Staff, and also a representative on the panel that formed the Tenth
+Planet Project.  She had, during the Project's existence, kept it on
+track and given it validity throughout the military structure.  She had
+also come up with the only game plan that had allowed them to destroy
+enemy ships.
 
- Now, toward the end of the afternoon, the mirages were settling a little. They found the end of the island, quite distinct, and not magicked out of shape or sense. There was a jumble of the usual squareness, with one great block sitting out in the lagoon. Sea birds were nesting there.
+She was justifiably famous.
 
- "Like icing," said Ralph, "on a pink cake."
+She was also an absolute hard-ass whom Cross had tangled with more than
+once.
 
- "We shan't see round this corner," said Jack, "because there isn't one. Only a slow curve--and you can see, the rocks get worse--"
+"Did she say why?"  Cross asked.
 
- Ralph shaded his eyes and followed the jagged outline of the crags up toward the mountain. This part of the beach was nearer the mountain than any other that they had seen.
+"Something about you being the vision of the Tenth Planet Project."
 
- "We'll try climbing the mountain from here," he said. "I should think this is the easiest way. There's less of that jungly stuff; and more pink rock. Come on."
+He blinked.  The burger he had eaten sat like a lump in his stomach. He
+had been the vision behind the Tenth Planet Project.  He had been the
+push to get the world governments to do something, anything, before the
+tenth planet arrived.  It had been his foresight that had enabled them
+to find the planet in the first place.
 
- The three boys began to scramble up. Some unknown force had wrenched and shattered these cubes so that they lay askew, often piled diminishingly on each other. The most usual feature of the rock was a pink cliff surmounted by a skewed block; and that again surmounted, and that again, till the pinkness became a stack of balanced rock projecting through the looped fantasy of the forest creepers. Where the pink cliffs rose out of the ground there were often narrow tracks winding upwards. They could edge along them, deep in the plant world, their faces to the rock.
+The tenth planet had an elliptical 2006-year orbit that took it into
+the very depths of space.  Unlike other recurring events in the solar
+system, from Halley's comet on down, the tenth planet's orbit was so
+long that only archaeological records held its secret.  There was no
+one alive who remembered it, and there were few written records about
+it--and certainly no written records from anyone who understood it.
 
- "What made this track?"
+Cross had seen the archaeological record, and had managed to tie it,
+through astroarchaeology, to something that happened in the sky.  He
+had used his friend Doug Mickelson, the secretary of state, to open
+doors that would otherwise have remained closed.
 
- Jack paused, wiping the sweat from his face. Ralph stood by him, breathless.
+That was why Clarissa Maddox called Cross the vision of the Tenth
+Planet Project.
 
- "Men?"
+"I think I'm more useful here," he said.
 
- Jack shook his head.
+"You can argue with the kid all you want," Jamison said, "but he's not
+going to stand up to Maddox for you.  You'll have to fly back to D.C.
+to do it on your own."
 
- "Animals."
+Cross shook his head.  "I'm not beyond my usefulness here."
 
- Ralph peered into the darkness under the trees. The forest minutely vibrated.
+"We can do this.  I can train someone else to use the wand," Jamison
+said.
 
- "Come on."
+"Yes, but I am the one familiar with the fossils.  I'm the one--"
 
- The difficulty was not the steep ascent round the shoulders of rock, but the occasional plunges through the undergrowth to get to the next path. Here the roots and stems of creepers were in such tangles that the boys had to thread through them like pliant needles. Their only guide, apart from the brown ground and occasional flashes of light through the foliage, was the tendency of slope: whether this hole, laced as it was with the cables of creeper, stood higher than that.
+"We'll know it when we see it," Jamison said.  "If we have any
+questions, I can always e-mail or call you.  Chances are, they need you
+for some bogus meeting, and you'll be back here when it's done.  Trust
+me, going is easier than fighting a member of the Joint Chiefs."
 
- Somehow, they moved up.
+Cross sighed.  He was just getting tired of meetings in which everyone
+rehashed all the facts that they didn't know.  He found it even more
+discouraging than digging through this dust and finding fillings that
+had, until a few weeks ago, been a part of someone's mouth.
 
- Immured in these tangles, at perhaps their most difficult moment, Ralph turned with shining eyes to the others.
+"You're not going to let me off the hook either, are you?"  Cross
+asked.
 
- "Wacco."
+Jamison finished his second burger and tossed the wrapper in the bag.
+"If I'd known this was why you were avoiding your link, I'd've been on
+your butt in an instant.  This is a needle-ina-haystack project no
+matter how you spin it, Leo.  And you don't know what they're going to
+discuss in Washington.  They might need you more there than we do
+here."
 
- "Wizard."
+"I think I know," Cross said.  "It's just another meeting."
 
- "Smashing."
+"If it were just another meeting, don't you think your colleagues would
+let you stay out here?"
 
- The cause of their pleasure was not obvious. All three were hot, dirty and exhausted. Ralph was badly scratched. The creepers were as thick as their thighs and left little but tunnels for further penetration. Ralph shouted experimentally and they listened to the muted echoes.
+Cross looked at him.  Jamison was probably right.
 
- "This is real exploring," said Jack. "I bet nobody's been here before."
+This was a meeting of the Tenth Planet Project, and even though Cross
+had been to a dozen meetings since the aliens left, none of them had
+been of the original Tenth Planet group.  The meetings had been for
+other things, crisis things, with some or none of the members of the
+Tenth Planet Project.
 
- "We ought to draw a map," said Ralph, "only we haven't any paper."
+That alone made this coming meeting different.
 
- "We could make scratches on bark," said Simon, "and rub black stuff in."
+He knew it.  He was just avoiding it.  And he couldn't any longer. That
+was what he had been telling his colleagues: no one had time to shut
+their eyes anymore.  And yet he was trying to do it, too.
 
- Again came the solemn communion of shining eyes in the gloom.
+It was hard to look clearly at something that could destroy life as he
+knew it.
 
- "Wacco."
+"All right," he said to Jamison.  "But you call me the instant you find
+something."
 
- "Wizard."
+Jamison mock saluted, a goofy grin on his face.  "I'll call you in a
+nanosecond, sir."
 
- There was no place for standing on one's head. This time Ralph expressed the intensity of his emotion by pretending to knock Simon down; and soon they were a happy, heaving pile in the under-dusk.
+"You know," Cross said, smiling for the first time in a while, "I
+believe you will."
 
- When they had fallen apart Ralph spoke first.
+April 27, 2018
 
- "Got to get on."
+18:05 Universal Time
 
- The pink granite of the next cliff was further back from the creepers and trees so that they could trot up the path. This again led into more open forest so that they had a glimpse of the spread sea. With openness came the sun; it dried the sweat that had soaked their clothes in the dark, damp heat. At last the way to the top looked like a scramble over pink rock, with no more plunging through darkness. The boys chose their way through defiles and over heaps of sharp stone.
+170 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Look! Look!"
+Commander Cicoi had only been in Elders Circle once before, several
+Passes ago, as he got a tour of Command Central.  He had just been made
+general, and it was customary to let all generals know what they were
+defending.
 
- High over this end of the island, the shattered rocks lifted up their stacks and chimneys. This one, against which Jack leaned, moved with a grating sound when they pushed.
+He had thought it odd that the Commanders believed the 43
+
+generals were defending buildings.  Cicoi had always thought he was
+defending Malmuria.
+
+Elders Circle was deep within the bowels of Command Central, ten layers
+below the tenth public layer.  The Waiting Chamber was icy cold, even
+for Malmur, and the lighting was thin, activated when the first
+tentacle crossed the threshold.  The Waiting Chamber was done in black;
+the Waiting Circles, dark spots on an already dark floor.
+
+The Commander of the North was already in the room, on the Waiting
+Circle that designated his position.  The Commander of the North was
+the oldest of the Commanders, the only one of the main Commanders who
+did not lose his life after the disaster.  He was large, as most elder
+Malmuria were, but his tentacles were graying at the tips.  Someday,
+his upper tentacles would be gray and useless, his lower nearly solid
+stumps, and he would lose his position through sheer immobility.
 
- "Come on--"
+It was a fate that awaited them all, a fate that Cicoi was not looking
+forward to.
 
- But not "Come on" to the top. The assault on the summit must wait while the three boys accepted this challenge. The rock was as large as a small motor car.
+The Commander of the North raised a single eyestalk, turned it, and
+peered at Cicoi.  "We await only the Commander of the Center, then."
 
- "Heave!"
+Cicoi nodded.  The Commander of the Center was in a tenuous position.
+He had risen through the ranks, as the rest of them had, but had done
+so over the objections of the Brood Nest females.  The females, though
+a younger group, had made it known that they did not accept the results
+of the last harvest.  They were clamoring for one of theirs to become a
+Commander, even though they had no military experience.
+
+The clamor was coming from the Center, from a group of females who
+believed that all decisions should consider the impact on the nestlings
+and the families, and the future of the race.  Some of the youngest
+females, barely out of the nest, their tentacles newly sprouted,
+believed they should get military training just like the males.
+
+Fortunately this rebelliousness had not spread to the other segments.
+In fact, the Commanders had tried to keep news of this uprising quiet,
+so that the other females would not learn of it.  The females would be
+busy enough tending the broods and making the food harvested by the
+Sulas last long enough to compensate for the shortages.
+
+The final set of chimes were ringing as the Commander of the Center
+entered the Waiting Chamber.  He seemed diminished somehow, as if
+command had shortened him and damaged his tentacles.
+
+He slid onto his circle, his head bowed, all but two of his eye stalks
+pocketed.  More problems in the Center then.  Cicoi did not want to
+know about them.
+
+Cicoi stood on his own circle, head bowed.  His tentacles were at his
+side in proper respectful position.  He stood on the tips of his lower
+tentacles.  He had pocketed nine of his eye stalks When facing the
+Elders, the ancient instructions said that no more than two eye stalks
+should be showing.  That, of course, was different from the circle of
+respect for their betters that the Malmuria formed around their faces
+with all ten eye stalks  It felt awkward and uncomfortable.  Cicoi had
+to work to keep the single eyestalk from floating freely and looking
+too closely at things it should not see.  The room darkened for a
+moment, and then ten bells rang.  Cicoi felt a sheen of nervous
+moisture form on his outliner.  A waste of energy, but he could not
+stop it.
+
+Then the floor whitened and dropped away.  The standing circles were
+the only support.  If Cicoi stepped off his, he would fall into white
+nothingness.
+
+Slowly his circle lowered and, he noted with his uncontrollable
+eyestalk, so did the other two.  The Commanders of the Center and North
+were holding their positions as if a single movement would hurt them.
+
+In exasperation at his own lack of control, Cicoi pocketed his last
+eyestalk and let the circle take him down in darkness.  Only when he
+felt the circle bounce to a stop did he release an eyestalk--a
+different eyestalk.
+
+He had sight just in time to watch the room above, where they had been
+standing only a moment before, disappear.  The ceiling closed, leaving
+them in this expansive luminescence.
+
+It was so bright to his single eye that Cicoi could not make out the
+details in the room.  Except that this vast chamber had a slight breeze
+and was hotter than any other place he had ever been on Malmur.
+
+Was the energy expended here some of the energy brought to the planet
+through the solar panels?  Or was there something else going on?
+
+He raised a second eyestalk, keeping it in rigid control.  He noted
+that the Commanders of the North and Center had their eye stalks
+pointed in two different directions.  He did the same.
+
+Then, from the depths below, creatures rose.  They were shaped like
+Malmuria, but they were just black shadows, almost outlines of the
+shape of Malmuria.  All of their eye stalks were floating around their
+heads in an uncontrolled fashion, and their tentacles waved like a
+child's before the child learned discipline.
+
+One of the creatures assumed the front position.  Cicoi saw that the
+rest, at least twenty, formed a row behind.  He turned one of his eye
+stalks  There were others behind him.  Perhaps fifty Elders in all.
+
+It was the force of their presence that kept this chamber warm.  Cicoi
+wanted to hunch forward like the Commander of the Center, but he did
+not allow himself to do so.  To express fear or even awe was to insult
+the Elders.
+
+Then there was a whisper inside Cicoi's mind.  A faint hum, like the
+touch of a tentacle before a male-female bonding.  He tilted his head
+involuntarily and saw the others doing so as well.
+
+Good, a wispy voice said.  Cicoi realized it belonged to the lead
+Elder.  You can hear us now.
+
+Cicoi waved his front tentacle in acknowledgment as the other
+Commanders did the same.  The Commander of the Center had raised a
+single eyestalk in surprise.
+
+We have been content for all this time to watch and let our people make
+their own way through the problems our new sun has brought.  And for
+thousands of Passes near this new sun, all has gone well.  Until this
+Pass.
+
+The thought felt alien, unlike his thoughts.  It was like a voice, but
+not like a voice.  Cicoi tamped down a feeling of fear.  These were the
+Elders, the ones who had made Malmur survive.  He had to listen to
+them.
+
+He tried to control his own thoughts, in case they could hear what he
+was thinking in return.
+
+The ability of our people to supply our basic needs has been put in
+extreme danger by the quick and surprising development of the race on
+the third planet.  You must not underestimate these creatures as you
+have done before.
+
+That was the argument Cicoi had just made to his own Second.  But to
+say that, and to do it, were two different things.  The creatures on
+the third planet had changed so much between this Pass and the last
+that they seemed to be almost different creatures.
+
+There was no time to study them.  There was no time at all.
 
- Sway back and forth, catch the rhythm.
+We feel that for the safety of our entire race, we, as Elders, must
+again step forward to guide our people past this crisis.  It was the
+way of the past.  It is the way of the present.
 
- "Heave!"
+The words echoed inside Cicoi's mind.  He felt no judgment in them;
+only acceptance of what must occur.  The Elders continued flowing,
+their tentacles moving in the same direction.  Cicoi wondered if their
+wispy forms were simply for the benefit of the Commanders or if the
+Elders truly looked like that.  No one, except perhaps the Keeper of
+Secrets, would know the answer.
 
- Increase the swing of the pendulum, increase, increase, come up and bear against that point of furthest balance-- increase--increase--
+The Elders seemed to be waiting for some sort of response to those
+last words.  Cicoi did not know what to say.  The Commander of the
+Center was standing taller on the tips of his tentacles, but he didn't
+seem to know either.  He turned an eyestalk toward Cicoi as if he were
+expecting Cicoi to do something.
 
- "Heave!"
+But it was the Commander of the North who finally spoke.  He turned his
+two eye stalks forward in a bad imitation of the circle of respect and
+pointed his upper tentacles down.  He rose as high as he could on his
+lower tentacles.
 
- The great rock loitered, poised on one toe, decided not to return, moved through the air, fell, struck, turned over, leapt droning through the air and smashed a deep hole in the canopy of the forest. Echoes and birds flew, white and pink dust floated, the forest further down shook as with the passage of an enraged monster: and then the island was still.
+"Forgive me, O Great Ones, for speaking to such an august body," the
+Commander of the North said.  "We will do what is needed.  We will heed
+your guidance.  We welcome it."
 
- "Wacco!"
+The Elders did not move.  In no way did they acknowledge the Commander
+of the North's polite movements, nor did they respond in kind.  The
+Elders, perhaps, had had different traditions once upon a time.
 
- "Like a bomb!"
+Finally the lead Elder bowed his head, his eye stalks facing the
+Commanders.  Cicoi's lower tentacles went rigid, and he nearly lost his
+balance.  The direct stare of all those eyes-those ghostly black
+eyes--was more than he could take.
 
- "Whee-aa-oo!"
+You must heed us, the Elder said, if you are to survive.
 
- Not for five minutes could they drag themselves away from this triumph. But they left at last.
+His words almost sounded like a rebuke.  Was it a rebuke to the
+Commander of the North for having the temerity to speak to them?
 
- The way to the top was easy after that. As they reached the last stretch Ralph stopped.
+The Commander of the North bent his eye stalks forward and said
+nothing. Neither did anyone else.
 
- "Golly!"
+Hear our words, the Elder said.
 
- They were on the lip of a circular hollow in the side of the mountain. This was filled with a blue flower, a rock plant of some sort, and the overflow hung down the vent and spilled lavishly among the canopy of the forest. The air was thick with butterflies, lifting, fluttering, settling.
+The phrase was echoed by the others, a faint chorus, that jangled in
+Cicoi's mind.
 
- Beyond the hollow was the square top of the mountain and soon they were standing on it.
+The Commander of the North turned an eyestalk toward Cicoi as if Cicoi
+had done something to provoke the Elder's words.  But Cicoi kept his
+rigid position.
 
- They had guessed before that this was an island: clambering among the pink rocks, with the sea on either side, and the crystal heights of air, they had known by some instinct that the sea lay on every side. But there seemed something more fitting in leaving the last word till they stood on the top, and could see a circular horizon of water.
+We shall guide you, the lead Elder said.  But before we do, we shall
+give you an overview, so you know how to prepare.
 
- Ralph turned to the others.
+The Commander of the Center moaned.  It was a small, involuntary
+sound, but it echoed in the large chamber.  Several of the Elders
+turned toward him, and a breeze came up.
 
- "This belongs to us."
+"I'm sorry, O Great Ones," the Commander of the Center said, two of his
+eye stalks waving wildly.  "I mean no disrespect."
 
- It was roughly boat-shaped: humped near this end with behind them the jumbled descent to the shore. On either side rocks, cliffs, treetops and a steep slope: forward there, the length of the boat, a tamer descent, tree-clad, with hints of pink: and then the jungly flat of the island, dense green, but drawn at the end to a pink tail. There, where the island petered out in water, was another island; a rock, almost detached, standing like a fort, facing them across the green with one bold, pink bastion.
+The Elders turned away from him.  Apparently that was all the
+acknowledgment they would give him.
 
- The boys surveyed all this, then looked out to sea. They were high up and the afternoon had advanced; the view was not robbed of sharpness by mirage.
+It was as if the interlude had never happened.
 
- "That's a reef. A coral reef. I've seen pictures like that."
+Here is how you will prepare, the lead Elder said.
 
- The reef enclosed more than one side of the island, lying perhaps a mile out and parallel to what they now thought of as their beach. The coral was scribbled in the sea as though a giant had bent down to reproduce the shape of the island in a flowing chalk line but tired before he had finished. Inside was peacock water, rocks and weeds showing as in an aquarium; outside was the dark blue of the sea. The tide was running so that long streaks of foam tailed away from the reef and for a moment they felt that the boat was moving steadily astern.
+Cicoi waited, concentrating as hard as he could, so that these words
+would become part of him.
 
- Jack pointed down.
+The next harvest of the third planet must be complete and varied.  We
+must obtain enough raw materials to finish building new harvest ships.
+An Elder will be on each harvest ship to make certain that the
+procedures are followed exactly.  You will prepare your generals to
+work with us.
 
- "That's where we landed."
+Cicoi shuddered slightly.  Commanders, at least, had always been warned
+of the possibility of meeting the Elders.  The generals had not.  And
+one of the Commanders was having trouble, despite the warning.  The
+generals had better be tougher than Cicoi thought they were.
 
- Beyond falls and cliffs there was a gash visible in the trees; there were the splintered trunks and then the drag, leaving only a fringe of palm between the scar and the sea. There, too, jutting into the lagoon, was the platform, with insect-like figures moving near it.
+Nine Elders floated from the group and stopped beside the one who
+seemed to be giving the orders.
 
- Ralph sketched a twining line from the bald spot on which they stood down a slope, a gully, through flowers, round and down to the rock where the scar started.
+We will go with you now to begin preparations.  The very existence of
+our people rests on what we do next.  We must not fail
 
- "That's the quickest way back."
+Cicoi wanted to say they would not fail, but he did not.  He did not
+like the way the Elders had treated the other two who spoke.  Instead,
+Cicoi kept his stance rigid and waited for further instructions.
 
- Eyes shining, mouths open, triumphant, they savored the right of domination. They were lifted up: were friends.
+But there were none.  The lead Elder waved his eye stalks turning them
+toward all the other Elders.  They imitated the movement, and then
+their tentacles pointed upward.
 
- "There's no village smoke, and no boats," said Ralph wisely. "We'll make sure later; but I think it's uninhabited."
+The ceiling opened, and the breeze grew stronger.  The Elders tilted
+their heads back, pointed their lower tentacles
 
- "We'll get food," cried Jack. "Hunt. Catch things. until they fetch us."
+behind them so that they were streamlined, and floated toward the cold
+darkness above.
 
- Simon looked at them both, saying nothing but nodding till his black hair flopped backwards and forwards: his face was glowing.
+Cicoi un pocketed two more eye stalks so that he could watch this
+tremendous sight.  Fifty Elders, their bodies wispy and black,
+absorbing all light and energy, soared toward the surface of Malmur, a
+place they had not been in generations.
 
- Ralph looked down the other way where there was no reef.
+A place they had not been in living memory.
 
- "Steeper," said Jack.
+A place they had not been since Malmur left its home sun a long, long
+time ago.
 
- Ralph made a cupping gesture.
+Cicoi had thought life for his people was hard before.  Now it would
+become even harder.
 
- "That bit of forest down there . . . the mountain holds it up."
+April 27, 2018
 
- Every point of the mountain held up trees--flowers and trees. Now the forest stirred, roared, flailed. The nearer acres of rock flowers fluttered and for half a minute the breeze blew cool on their faces.
+8:45 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- Ralph spread his arms.
+170 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "All ours."
+Leo Cross balanced one suitcase against his thigh as he struggled with
+the old-fashioned lock on his front door.  He had already disengaged
+the security system, but for some reason his housekeeper Constance
+insisted on using all of the locks when he was gone, including the one
+on the antique oak door.  He should have waited at the airport for
+fifteen more minutes.  By then, she would have arrived and been able to
+let him into his own house.
 
- They laughed and tumbled and shouted on the mountain.
+Instead, he had to waggle the ancient brass key into the even older
+brass lock and wait until he heard the tumblers turn.  Then he pushed
+the door open with his shoulder.
 
- "I'm hungry."
+The suitcase fell inward with a bang and Cross stiffened, half
+expecting his mother's voice to yell at him from upstairs.  But his
+parents were long gone.  Only their ghosts echoed throughout the house.
+He had grown up here, and had done little since his parents' death to
+make the house his.  The antiques his mother so loved still filled the foyer and most of the
+ground level.
 
- When Simon mentioned his hunger the others became aware of theirs.
+Still, it felt good to be home.  It felt good to have a home to return
+to.  He shuddered.  He'd managed to get some sleep on the red-eye he
+had taken back from San Francisco, but his dreams had been filled with
+the slight whirr of Nan Tech wand and the clank of wedding bands as
+they hit the glass front.  Wedding bands and engagement rings and
+anniversary necklaces.  So much stuff that had meant so much to people
+at one time and was now not much more than junk.
 
- "Come on," said Ralph. "We've found out what we wanted to know."
+His personal phone hadn't rung since he left, nor had his pager gone
+off.  Jamison clearly hadn't found anything--and neither had Bradshaw
+and Groopman in South America.
 
- They scrambled down a rock slope, dropped among flowers and made their way under the trees. Here they paused and examined the bushes round them curiously.
+Cross sighed and kicked the door closed.  Then he lugged his suitcases
+upstairs and tossed them on the king-sized bed he had bought specially
+for his room.  He had made this room his, with its utilitarian
+furniture and high-tech gadgetry.  It wasn't fair to say he had missed
+it--he hadn't been gone long enough--but he did feel more relaxed when
+he was here.
 
- Simon spoke first.
+Downstairs the door opened, and he thought he heard female laughter.
+Constance usually wasn't so merry when she came to work.  She had been
+with the family forever.  He could no more get rid of her than he could
+have fired his grandmother.  She made certain he ate well and his home
+wasn't a complete pigsty.
+
+Cross could have afforded an entire bevy of housekeepers-his parents
+had left him independently wealthy--but he rarely thought of the money.
+Instead, it provided him a way to do the work he loved.  Or the work he
+had once loved, before the world had changed with the attack of the
+aliens.
+
+He pulled off his clothes and took a hot shower, staying for a long
+time under the spray.  He needed to get the feel of the black dust off
+him  He knew he didn't really have any on him, but that didn't matter. 
+What mattered was the sense of it, the way his skin crawled even when
+he thought of it.
 
- "Like candles. Candle bushes. Candle buds."
+As he got out, the smell of fried pork sausage reached him, along with
+the scent of pancakes and fresh coffee.  Constance was here, and she
+knew he was home.
 
- The bushes were dark evergreen and aromatic and the many buds were waxen green and folded up against the light. Jack slashed at one with his knife and the scent spilled over them.
+For the first time in days, he felt really and truly hungry.
 
- "Candle buds."
+He pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans, and walked, barefoot, down
+the stairs.  He would have to change before the big meeting, but he had
+about four hours.  Even in the worst traffic, it wouldn't take him that
+long to get downtown.
 
- "You couldn't light them," said Ralph. "They just look like candles."
+Soft voices reached him as he got to the bottom of the stairs.  Female
+voices.  For a moment, he thought Constance had the radio or the
+television on, and then he recognized the second voice.
 
- "Green candles," said Jack contemptuously. "We can't eat them. Come on."
+His mouth went instantly dry.
 
- They were in the beginnings of the thick forest, plonking with weary feet on a track, when they heard the noises--squeakings--and the hard strike of hoofs on a path. As they pushed forward the squeaking increased till it became a frenzy. They found a piglet caught in a curtain of creepers, throwing itself at the elastic traces in all the madness of extreme terror. Its voice was thin, needle-sharp and insistent; The three boys rushed forward and Jack drew his knife again with a flourish. He raised his arm in the air. There came a pause, a hiatus, the pig continued to scream and the creepers to jerk, and the blade continued to flash at the end of a bony arm. The pause was only long enough for them to understand what an enormity the downward stroke would be. Then the piglet tore loose from the creepers and scurried into the undergrowth. They were left looking at each other and the place of terror. Jack's face was white under the freckles. He noticed that he still held the knife aloft and brought his arm down replacing the blade in the sheath. Then they all three laughed ashamedly and began to climb back to the track.
+Britt.
 
- "I was choosing a place," said Jack. "I was just waiting for a moment to decide where to stab him."
+He hadn't expected to see her until the meeting.
 
- "You should stick a pig," said Ralph fiercely. "They always talk about sticking a pig."
+He ran a hand through his wet hair, feeling like a teenager ill
+prepared for a first date.  Dr.  Brittany Archer had that effect on
+him.  They had become involved shortly after they met, and they'd been
+lovers for some time now, but his heart still jumped when he heard her
+voice.  He hadn't felt this strongly about any woman in all his years.
+All he wished was that he'd met Britt Archer under different
+circumstances.
 
- "You cut a pig's throat to let the blood out," said Jack, "otherwise you can't eat the meat."
+Cross made his way through the hall into the kitchen.  Constance was
+pouring batter on the griddle.  She already had a pile of perfectly
+formed pancakes on a platter.  Sausages steamed on another platter
+beside it.  Fresh-squeezed orange juice was in a glass pitcher near the
+refrigerator, and the last of the coffee percolated through the
+automated coffeemaker.
 
- "Why didn't you--?"
+Britt was sitting at the kitchen table, her stockinged feet on one of
+the old chairs.  Her dark hair was pulled back and held by a gold
+Irish-love-knot barrette--which would have survived the mess in
+Monterey.  The thought made Cross's gorge rise and he fought it down.
 
- They knew very well why he hadn't: because of the enormity of the knife descending and cutting into living flesh; because of the unbearable blood.
+Britt turned to him, her intelligent eyes missing nothing.  She stood.
+She was nearly as tall as he was.
 
- "I was going to," said Jack. He was ahead of them, and they could not see his face. "I was choosing a place. Next time--!"
+"It was tough there, huh?"
 
- He snatched his knife out of the sheath and slammed it into a tree trunk. Next time there would be no mercy. He looked round fiercely, daring them to contradict. Then they broke out into the sunlight and for a while they were busy finding and devouring food as they moved down the scar toward the platform and the meeting.
+Apparently she saw it in his face.  He wrapped his arms around her and
+pulled her close.  He didn't want to think about it, didn't really want
+to discuss it.  He buried his face in her neck and let himself feel how
+alive she was.
 
- 
+After a moment, Constance said, "I got breakfast for you, Leo," as if
+nothing had changed.
 
- 
+The memory of the past two days had played hell with his appetite
+again, but he wasn't going to let all this food go to waste.  He
+squeezed Britt, then let her go, and walked over to Constance.
 
- CHAPTER TWO Fire on the Mountain
+"You're trying to make me fat," he said.
 
- 
+"And I'm failing," she said.  "Looks like you lost weight in the past
+two days."
 
- By the time Ralph finished blowing the conch the platform was crowded. There were differences between this meeting and the one held in the morning. The afternoon sun slanted in from the other side of the platform and most of the children, feeling too late the smart of sunburn, had put their clothes on. The choir, less of a group, had discarded their cloaks.
+"Without your cooking, how could I survive?"  He grabbed a plate from
+the cupboard and served himself, slathering the pancakes with butter
+and pouring maple syrup on top.  Then he poured a glass of orange juice
+and headed for the table.
 
- Ralph sat on a fallen trunk, his left side to the sun. On his right were most of the choir; on his left the larger boys who had not known each other before the evacuation; before him small children squatted in the grass.
+Britt was just behind him, serving herself, as well.
 
- Silence now. Ralph lifted the cream and pink shell to his knees and a sudden breeze scattered light over the platform. He was uncertain whether to stand up or remain sitting. He looked sideways to his left, toward the bathing pool. Piggy was sitting near but giving no help.
+They didn't even make a dent in the food, although Constance continued
+cooking, as if she were trying to feed an army instead of two of them.
+Cross had noticed that Constance had been doing that ever since the
+alien ships arrived, making too much food and then giving much of it
+away to shelters later on.  It was as if some part of her felt guilty
+for still being there, for still being alive, for having a place to go
+and people to take care of.
 
- Ralph cleared his throat.
+Cross took a bite of pancake and decided he hadn't had anything that
+good in a long time.  Then he smiled at Britt and put his hand on hers.
+"I didn't expect to see you until later."
 
- "Well then."
+"You think I'd want a reunion with you in front of the Tenth Planet
+Project?"  Her eyes twinkled and she shook her head.  "They would have
+loved that."
 
- All at once he found he could talk fluently and explain what he had to say. He passed a hand through his fair hair and spoke.
+She got up and poured herself a huge mug of coffee.  Then she held up
+the pot.  "You want any?"
 
- "We're on an island. We've been on the mountain top and seen water all round. We saw no houses, no smoke, no footprints, no boats, no people. We're on an uninhabited island with no other people on it."
+He shook his head.  He wasn't quite the coffee freak that she was.
+He'd wait until he was done eating.
 
- Jack broke in.
+She came back to the table and sat down.  She wrapped her hands around
+the mug and stared at him.  "Do you want to talk about it?"
 
- "All the same you need an army--for hunting. Hunting pigs--"
+The pancake he'd been eating turned to glue in his mouth.  He shook his
+head.
 
- "Yes. There are pigs on the island."
+"I take it you didn't find anything."
 
- All three of them tried to convey the sense of the pink live thing struggling in the creepers.
+"Not yet," he said.  "I should still be there."
 
- "We saw--"
+"I'm sure Lowry will do just fine."  Britt had never really believed
+that they'd find a nanomachine, even after Cross had made the argument
+to her, the same one he'd made to Jamison.  "We need you here."
 
- "Squealing--"
+"Did something happen?"
 
- "It broke away--"
+"Not to my knowledge," Britt said.  "But I'm not the one who called the
+meeting."  She shoved her mug away, picked up her fork, and dug into
+her breakfast.  "I suspect it's just a briefing."
 
- "Before I could kill it--but--next time!"
+Cross sighed and took a sip of orange juice.  It was fresh and cool and
+delicious.  "Then why call me back?"
 
- Jack slammed his knife into a trunk and looked round challengingly.
+Britt raised her eyes at him without moving her head.  "Leo," she said
+softly, "you just don't get it sometimes, do you?"
 
- The meeting settled down again.
+"Get what?"  he asked.
 
- "So you see," said Ralph, "We need hunters to get us meat. And another thing."
+"How important you are."
 
- He lifted the shell on his knees and looked round the sun-slashed faces.
+"I'm no more important than you or Jesse Killius or Yo landa Hayes," he
+said, listing two other members of the committee.  Jesse Killius was
+the head of NASA and Yolanda Hayes was the president's science
+adviser.
 
- "There aren't any grownups. We shall have to look after ourselves."
+"Yes, you are."  Britt set down her fork.  "It was your insight that
+warned us of this problem in the first place, and you were the one who
+figured out that they're coming back."
 
- The meeting hummed and was silent.
+"No," he said.  "You did."
 
- "And another thing. We can't have everybody talking at once. We'll have to have 'Hands up' like at school."
+She shook her head.  "You solidified it.  You're the unifying force on
+this committee.  Without you, it goes nowhere."
 
- He held the conch before his face and glanced round the mouth.
+"Even if I never have another brilliant idea."
 
- "Then I'll give him the conch."
+"Even if," she said.  "This is no longer about brilliant ideas.  It's
+about survival.  You run the team whether you want to or not."
 
- "Conch?"
+"Clarissa Maddox runs the team."
 
- "That's what this shell's called. I'll give the conch to the next person to speak. He can hold it when he's speaking."
+"Because you think she runs meetings efficiently," Britt said.  "They
+never start until you arrive.  It's unthinkable to have a Tenth Planet
+Project meeting without you."
 
- "But--"
+Cross sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and
+forefinger.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Constance watching
+them.  She smiled at him.
 
- "Look--"
+"Someday you'll figure out that your strengths aren't where you think
+they are," Constance said.
 
- "And he won't be interrupted: Except by me."
+Cross looked at her.  "Oh?  You mean I'm not a good archaeologist?"
 
- Jack was on his feet.
+She shrugged.  "Right now, it's not your digging skills that matter.
+It's your imagination."
 
- "We'll have rules!" he cried excitedly. "Lots of rules! Then when anyone breaks 'em--"
+"She's right," Britt said.
 
- "Whee--oh!"
+"My imagination is giving me nightmares," he said.
 
- "Wacco!"
+"From California?"
 
- "Bong!"
+He nodded.
 
- "Doink!"
+Britt rested her head on her palm.  "Tell me about it."
 
- Ralph felt the conch lifted from his lap. Then Piggy was standing cradling the great cream shell and the shouting died down. Jack, left on his feet, looked uncertainly at Ralph who smiled and patted the log. Jack sat down. Piggy took off his glasses and blinked at the assembly while he wiped them on his shirt.
+He couldn't yet.  He didn't have the right words, and to explain the
+horror incorrectly was to cheapen it.  "It's not something you want to
+discuss over breakfast," he said.  He pushed his half-finished meal
+away, and Constance brought him coffee without his having to ask for
+it.  He put his hand around the warm mug.
 
- "You're hindering Ralph. You're not letting him get to the most important thing."
+"So " he said, "did our alien friends get home safely?"
 
- He paused effectively.
+Britt blinked, obviously confused, and then she gave him a rueful
+smile.  "I'm sorry to say they did, as far as we can tell."
 
- "Who knows we're here? Eh?"
+He sighed.  They were talking about the alien ships, heading back
+toward the tenth planet.  Britt's agency, the Space Telescope Science
+Institute, was using all of its telescopes,
 
- "They knew at the airport."
+from the Hubble III on down, to monitor the alien ships as they left
+Earth's orbit and headed back to the passing tenth planet.
 
- "The man with a trumpet-thing--"
+"I was hoping they'd self-destruct or something," he said.
 
- "My dad."
+She shook her head.  "That only happens in the movies.  Too bad,
+huh?"
 
- Piggy put on his glasses.
+He sipped the coffee.  It was better than the stuff the Army had served
+him.  "Do we know what will happen at the meeting today?"
 
- "Nobody knows where we are," said Piggy. He was paler than before and breathless. "Perhaps they knew where we was going to; and perhaps not. But they don't know where we are 'cos we never got there." He gaped at them for a moment, then swayed and sat down. Ralph took the conch from his hands.
+"No," Britt said.  "I know we'll get a report on the alien ships--what
+they're made of, how they're vulnerable, that sort of thing."
 
- "That's what I was going to say," he went on, "when you all, all. . . ." He gazed at their intent faces. "The plane was shot down in flames. Nobody knows where we are. We may be here a long time."
+"We know that?"
 
- The silence was so complete that they could hear the unevenness of Piggy's breathing. The sun slanted in and lay golden over half the platform. The breezes that on the lagoon had chased their tails like kittens were finding their way across the platform and into the forest. Ralph pushed back the tangle of fair hair that hung on his forehead.
+She shrugged.  "I don't know.  The report might just be about what we
+don't know."
 
- "So we may be here a long time."
+Cross sighed.  For all the speeches everyone was making about his
+importance, it sounded like the meeting would be the same old thing.
+"Anything else?"
 
- Nobody said anything. He grinned suddenly.
+Britt loudly sipped the rest of her coffee, then set the mug down.  "If
+there's something new and surprising, I haven't heard about it."
 
- "But this is a good island. We--Jack, Simon and me-- we climbed the mountain. It's wizard. There's food and drink, and--"
+Cross closed his eyes.  "The end of the world is coming, and all we're
+doing is having meetings."
 
- "Rocks--"
+"We're doing more than that," Britt said.
 
- "Blue flowers--"
+He opened his eyes.  She looked tired.  They were all tired.  "Oh?"  he
+asked.  "What else are we doing?"
 
- Piggy, partly recovered, pointed to the conch in Ralph's hands, and Jack and Simon fell silent. Ralph went on.
+"We're trying to figure out a way to destroy those aliens," she said,
+her voice so cold it even stopped Constance for an instant at the
+stove.
 
- "While we're waiting we can have a good time on this island."
+Cross looked at Britt.  Her eyes were dark, focused on something far
+away.  And the anger was just below the surface of her face, just as it
+was below all of theirs at the moment.
 
- He gesticulated widely.
+Cross thought about the fillings rattling around in the wan ding
+California, then sighed.  "I would do anything to stop them.  Damn near
+anything."  "So would I," Britt said, coldly.  "So would I."
 
- "It's like in a book."
+3
 
- At once there was a clamor.
+April 27, 2018
 
- "Treasure Island--"
+11:41 a.m. Central Daylight Time
 
- "Swallows and Amazons--"
+170 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Coral Island--"
+Vivian Hartlein had spent the early morning standing outside the gates
+of Graceland until some security guard waved her away.  Then she
+crossed Elvis Presley Boulevard to the now-boarded-up Day's Inn and sat
+in its parking lot, staring at the long lawn heading up to the old
+mansion.  She'd toured the King's home dozens of times--the first with
+her parents when she was just a little thing--and she liked the way it
+always stayed the same.  The dark kitchen with its faint never to-leave
+smell of grease.  The yellow dining room, the beautiful white piano.  A
+permanent place.  A historical place.  A place where time seemed to
+stand still.
 
- Ralph waved the conch.
+Vivian had come here every day since the attack.  She wanted to go
+inside again, she wanted to see if time would reverse for her, and she
+thought maybe it would happen in Graceland.  Maybe if she went inside,
+she would see her mom again.  And her dad.  They had been gone for
+years.
 
- "This is our island. It's a good island. Until the grownups come to fetch us we'll have fun."
+Maybe if she went inside, she'd see Cheryl and Lucy and Tommi Jo. She'd
+told them to stay out of California, but they didn't listen to her. 
+They'd gone anyway, saying there was nothing in Memphis for them. All
+the jobs were west.  And
 
- Jack held out his hand for the conch.
+what did Cheryl end up doing, but working in some tourist place near
+the ocean?  She could've worked at Graceland or any of the places
+around it, or got a job on Mud Island, or even gone to Nashville.  It
+was far, but not that far.
 
- "There's pigs," he said. "There's food; and bathing water in that little stream along there--and everything. Didn't anyone find anything else?"
+And it hadn't been wiped off the face of the Earth.
 
- He handed the conch back to Ralph and sat down. Apparently no one had found anything.
+Cheryl, her daughter.  Lucy, her granddaughter.  And Tammi Jo, who was
+just a baby.  Their daddy didn't even have the decency to call, to find
+out what happened.  He was so dumb he didn't even know the attack had
+happened over Cheryl's house, over her work.
 
- The older boys first noticed the child when he resisted. There was a group of little boys urging him forward and he did not want to go. He was a shrimp of a boy, about six years old, and one side of his face was blotted out by a mulberry-colored birthmark. He stood now, warped out of the perpendicular by the fierce light of publicity, and he bored into the coarse grass with one toe. He was muttering and about to cry.
+Vivian's husband, Dale, he'd gone out there, trying to find his little
+girl, and the Army didn't tell him nothing.  Vivian stayed home.  She
+couldn't get herself in no airplane.  Never had been able to.  Dale
+thought it was maybe connected to that time when she couldn't leave the
+house, back when she was pregnant with Cheryl, her only child.
 
- The other little boys, whispering but serious, pushed him toward Ralph.
+Back when she had had hope.
 
- "All right," said Ralph, "come on then."
+She choked and swallowed hard.  Dale was still in California, waiting
+to get remains, if there was going to be remains.  He said he wasn't
+counting on it.  He said there was nothing he could do.  He said he'd
+never felt so helpless in his whole life.
 
- The small boy looked round in panic.
+Dale Hartlein, a man who'd never been helpless.  One afternoon in
+California, he told her, he jumped the fence, and went into that black
+mess himself without protection, tracing the concrete buried beneath
+the dust, picking up metal road signs with the names pressed into them,
+and finding, through sheer energy, Cheryl's house.
 
- "Speak up!"
+Or what was left of it.
 
- The small boy held out his hands for the conch and the assembly shouted with laughter; at once he snatched back his hands and started to cry.
+He said he sat down and bawled like a baby.
 
- "Let him have the conch!" shouted Piggy. "Let him have it!"
+Vivian'd never seen Dale cry.  He'd teared up when Cheryl was born, and
+them tears'd come back the day Cheryl said she was marrying that loser
+ex-husband of hers, but he'd never cried.  Not once.
 
- At last Ralph induced him to hold the shell but by then the blow of laughter had taken away the child's voice. Piggy knelt by him, one hand on the great shell, listening and interpreting to the assembly.
+Till now.
 
- "He wants to know what you're going to do about the snake-thing."
+And when he told Vivian that, she knew her baby, and her baby's babies,
+was well and truly dead.
 
- Ralph laughed, and the other boys laughed with him. The small boy twisted further into himself.
+He was staying in California until he had remains, but that might mean
+he'd be gone forever.  The bureaucracy ruled, just like she always knew
+it had.  Like her own daddy used to say.  The government ain't nothing
+but a pack of fools leading another pack of fools by the nose.
 
- "Tell us about the snake-thing."
+She believed it now.  Only now they had gotten worse.  Now they had
+killed her family.  And for that, she was going to make them pay.
 
- "Now he says it was a beastie."
+She had left the Day's Inn at sunrise and come to Riverside Park.  The
+Mississippi smelled faintly of mud and river mold.  Barges and tugs
+still made their way through the shallow water as if nothing had
+happened.  Planes flew overhead.  Life went on.
 
- "Beastie?''
+For most people, life went on.
 
- "A snake-thing. Ever so big. He saw it."
+She sat on the old bandstand near a grove of trees and watched as the
+first car pulled into the lot.  She was taking a risk holding the
+meeting here, in such a public place, in the middle of the day, but she
+didn't know who would come.  She'd keep things toned down.  She didn't
+say nothing in her flyers, or on the web site, or in them radio
+announcements she made to all the call-in shows about what, exactly,
+she was going to talk about.
 
- "Where?"
+She'd just tell them the truth she learned from Dale.  She'd just tell
+them how the government killed her family and how she was going to get
+even.
 
- "In the woods."
+She'd tell them the truth as she knew it from the moment she saw them
+phony pictures on CNN.
 
- Either the wandering breezes or perhaps the decline of the sun allowed a little coolness to lie under the trees. The boys felt it and stirred restlessly.
+Another car pulled into the lot.  Then another.  People she didn't
+recognize was opening the doors and getting out.
 
- "You couldn't have a beastie, a snake-thing, on an island this size," Ralph explained kindly. "You only get them in big countries, likeAfrica , orIndia ."
+She took a deep breath as she watched them, straightening her
+shoulders, shaking the nervousness out of her.  It began this way, with
+a small group.  Jesus taught the world that,
 
- Murmur; and the grave nodding of heads.
+two thousand years ago.  He started with twelve, and they spread the
+gospel all over the land.
 
- "He says the beastie came in the dark."
+The tough part was speaking out.  Once she spoke out, then the news
+would spread and everyone would know.
 
- "Then he couldn't see it!"
+Sometimes she wondered why they didn't already.  It seemed so obvious
+to her.
 
- Laughter and cheers.
+There was no aliens.  There'd never been aliens.  Ever since she was a
+little girl, there'd been talk of aliens.  Bestselling books with
+slant-eyed creatures on the cover.  Movies with those same
+creatures--sometimes friendly, but usually trying to take over Earth.
+Then those series of "true" stories, mostly on the TV, about people
+getting abducted.
 
- "Did you hear that? Says he saw the thing in the dark--"
+By the time Vivian was twelve, as many people believed in aliens as
+believed in angels.  She remembered that statistic because Reverend
+Foster used it in one of his most famous sermons, the one where he
+lamented the loss of true faith.
 
- "He still says he saw the beastie. It came and went away again an' came back and wanted to eat him--"
+Well, she had true faith.  And Cheryl had, too.  But Cheryl had become
+an unwitting victim of a plot to take over the world.  Vivian was
+already seeing it.  The news carried parts of it.  The other countries
+was listening to the president.  Soon he'd take over everything, a man
+who didn't believe in God or liberty or nothing.
 
- "He was dreaming."
+A dozen cars was in the parking lot now, and a group of people was
+hanging around the edge of the grass, just staring at her.  If she was
+going to do this, she had to take control.
 
- Laughing, Ralph looked for confirmation round the ring of faces. The older boys agreed; but here and there among the little ones was the doubt that required more than rational assurance.
+Dale'd tried to talk her out of it, tried at least to get her to wait
+until he got home.  But she wasn't going to wait, not anymore.  It was
+either wait and let the grief eat her up, eat her message and make
+Cheryl and Lucy and Tommi Jo die for nothing, or Vivian would start
+taking action.  She was angry and someone was going to pay.
 
- "He must have had a nightmare. Stumbling about among all those creepers."
+She'd always been an action woman.  Sitting around just made things
+worse.
 
- More grave nodding; they knew about nightmares. "He says he saw the beastie, the snake-thing, and will it come back tonight?"
+She waved a hand toward the group, and a tall thin man with long blond hair grinned at her.  He spoke softly to the others
+around him, and they came forward like a little troop.  She was
+surprised she didn't recognize none of them.
 
- "But there isn't a beastie!"
+More cars was pulling in.  A man in a business suit got out of one of
+them, along with a woman wearing too much makeup for a rally.  And sure
+enough, they took out a video camera.
 
- "He says in the morning it turned into them things like ropes in the trees and hung in the branches. He says will it come back tonight?"
+She didn't want them taping the rally.  She knew what they'd do. They'd
+send it on, make her a laughingstock or, worse, sic the government on
+her.  Kill her.  That couldn't happen.  Not yet.  Not this early.
 
- "But there isn't a beastie!"
+The blond man had gotten to the bandstand.  He looked like a
+take-charge type.
 
- There was no laughter at all now and more grave watching. Ralph pushed both hands through his hair and looked at the little boy in mixed amusement and exasperation.
+"Hi," she said.  "I'm Vivian Hartlein.  I'm the one who called this
+here meeting."
 
- Jack seized the conch.
+"Jake Styles," he said.
 
- "Ralph's right of course. There isn't a snake-thing. But if there was a snake we'd hunt it and kill it. We're going to hunt pigs to get meat for everybody. And we'll look for the snake too--"
+"Well, Jake Styles, there ain't gonna to be nothing happening here if
+them reporters stay.  Think you can get them to go?"
 
- "But there isn't a snake!"
+He looked over his shoulder.  "Why would I want to?"
 
- "We'll make sure when we go hunting."
+"Why're you here?"  she asked.
 
- Ralph was annoyed and, for the moment, defeated. He felt himself facing something ungraspable. The eyes that looked so intently at him were without humor.
+His blue eyes darkened.  "My daddy lived on the California coast."
 
- "But there isn't a beast!"
+"My daughter and her babies did, too," Vivian said.
 
- Something he had not known was there rose in him and compelled him to make the point, loudly and again.
+They stared at each other a moment.  Bonded.  She felt it.  The loss
+created a link between them.  Without saying nothing more, he turned
+around and walked toward the reporters.
 
- "But I tell you there isn't a beast!"
+She'd picked well.  He had a charm about him.
 
- The assembly was silent.
+More and more cars came.  There was maybe fifty people here now.  Some
+she knew, most she didn't.  The ones she knew belonged to some of the
+same groups as Dale.  They looked surprised to see her without him.
 
- Ralph lifted the conch again and his good humor came back as he thought of what he had to say next.
+She wasn't speaking for him today.  She was speaking for everyone.  And
+for her dead daughter and grandchildren.
 
- "Now we come to the most important thing. I've been thinking. I was thinking while we were climbing the mountain." He flashed a conspiratorial grin at the other two. "And on the beach just now. This is what I thought. We want to have fun. And we want to be rescued."
+The woman reporter laughed and then patted Jake Styleson the arm.  Oh,
+charm was useful.  But not everything.  Still, the reporters got back
+in their car, backed up, and pulled out of the lot.  Jake Styles stood
+at the edge of the lot until the car disappeared.
 
- The passionate noise of agreement from the assembly hit him like a wave and he lost his thread. He thought again.
+By then, her entire crowd was sitting on the dew-damp river grass or
+standing at the fringes, leaning on trees for support.  He came back,
+shrugged amiably, and said, "I don't think they're coming back."
 
- "We want to be rescued; and of course we shall be rescued."
+" What'd you tell them?"  she asked.
 
- Voices babbled. The simple statement, unbacked by any proof but the weight of Ralph's new authority, brought light and happiness. He had to wave the conch before he could make them hear him.
+"That this was the traditional singing rally for the Baptist churches
+in the area.  We're just organizing, and we'd hope they'd come back
+when we're getting ready to sing in the big sing-a-thon in July."
 
- "My father's in the Navy. He said there aren't any unknown islands left. He says the Queen has a big room full of maps and all the islands in the world are drawn there. So the Queen's got a picture of this island."
+"You didn't," Vivian said.
 
- Again came the sounds of cheerfulness and better heart.
+"I did."  He grinned.  "They said that explained the strangeness of the
+announcements they'd heard on the radio, and they were sorry for
+troubling us.  And they got the date of the big sing-a-thon.  They were
+embarrassed they didn't know about it."
 
- "And sooner or later a ship will put in here. It might even be Daddy's ship. So you see, sooner or later, we shall be rescued."
+"I can't believe they believed that."
 
- He paused, with the point made. The assembly was lifted toward safety by his words. They liked and now respected him. Spontaneously they began to clap and presently the platform was loud with applause. Ralph flushed, looking sideways at Piggy's open admiration, and then the other way at Jack who was smirking and showing that he too knew how to clap.
+"People believe anything, you say it with enough conviction."  His eyes
+seemed to bore right through her.  He was right, of course.  That was
+what she was here to talk about.  "You know, if you're gonna talk about
+how awful things are and not give no ways to resolve things, I ain't
+staying."
 
- Ralph waved the conch.
+"We got to take things into our own hands," she said.
 
- "Shut up! Wait! Listen!"
+"Things?"  he asked.
 
- He went on in the silence, borne on his triumph.
+"What do you do?"  she said.  "You ain't government, are you?"
 
- "There's another thing. We can help them to find us. If a ship comes near the island they may not notice us. So we must make smoke on top of the mountain. We must make a fire."
+"If I was government, you think I'd be here?"
 
- "A fire! Make a fire!"
+"Them reporters was."
 
- At once half the boys were on their feet. Jack clamored among them, the conch forgotten.
+He took a battered wallet out of his back pocket.  Inside was his
+electricians' union card, tattered now, and a driver's license, a few
+ripped photos, and nothing else.  None of them
 
- "Come on! Follow me!"
+credit cards or them identification strips that had a person's entire
+medical history on it.  No electronic slider cards at all.
 
- The space under the palm trees was full of noise and movement. Ralph was on his feet too, shouting for quiet, but no one heard him. All at once the crowd swayed toward the island and was gone--following Jack. Even the tiny children went and did their best among the leaves and broken branches. Ralph was left, holding the conch, with no one but Piggy.
+The casual way he handed his life to her was just as it should be A
+code among compatriots.  A way that believers knew they weren't
+alone.
 
- Piggy's breathing was quite restored.
+"I been thinking about this a long time," she said.  "Studying it.  Not
+just when them so-called aliens came, but before.  You want to
+listen?"
 
- "Like kids!" he said scornfully. "Acting like a crowd of kids!"
+"Yeah."
 
- Ralph looked at him doubtfully and laid the conch on the tree trunk.
+She nodded toward the people before her.  "Join them.  When I get 'em
+fired up, I'm going to find out how many of them is truly
+interested."
 
- "I bet it's gone tea-time," said Piggy. "What do they think they're going to do on that mountain?"
+"In doing what?"
 
- He caressed the shell respectfully, then stopped and looked up.
+"Crippling the government.  Getting rid of all them who killed our
+family and aim to kill our country.  I know the perfect way to do
+it."
 
- "Ralph! Hey! Where you going?"
+"Them reporters would say that the government is our only
+protection."
 
- Ralph was already clambering over the first smashed swathes of the scar. A long way ahead of him was crashing and laughter.
+"Yeah," Vivian said.  "They would.  They're the ones who aired the
+phony pictures of those alien ships, and they're the ones who say,
+'believe in the president," and they're the ones who've encouraging
+allying with other countries.  We're going to lose our sovereignty.
+We're going to become part of a worldwide dictatorship, run by godless
+people.  It's been happening for a while.  But now your daddy and my
+daughter, they been caught in the first assault."
 
- Piggy watched him in disgust.
+"You think our government did that to our own people?"
 
- "Like a crowd of kids--"
+She raised her eyes to his.  His look was flat, even.  He didn't seem
+shocked.  "You do, too."
 
- He sighed, bent, and laced up his shoes. The noise of the errant assembly faded up the mountain. Then, with the martyred expression of a parent who has to keep up with the senseless ebullience of the children, he picked up the conch, turned toward the forest, and began to pick his way over the tumbled scar.
+He nodded.
 
- 
+"Sit down.  We got a lot of talking."
 
- Below the other side of the mountain top was a platform of forest. Once more Ralph found himself making the cupping gesture.
+He found a place in the crowd.  She stared at them for a moment,
+wishing Dale was here instead of in California.  He'd be proud of her.
+Whenever he had a group needed convincing,
 
- "Down there we could get as much wood as we want."
+whenever he had a difficult customer who needed coddling, he called
+her.
 
- Jack nodded and pulled at his underlip. Starting perhaps a hundred feet below them on the steeper side of the mountain, the patch might have been designed expressly for fuel. Trees, forced by the damp heat, found too little soil for full growth, fell early and decayed: creepers cradled them, and new saplings searched a way up.
+You missed your calling, baby doll, he used to say.  You shoulda been
+some sort of preacher, a leader.  You wasted it sitting home.
 
- Jack turned to the choir, who stood ready. Their black caps of maintenance were slid over one ear like berets.
+Don't never say I wasted time raising our girl, Dale Hart lein, she
+used to say in response.  She hadn't wasted time.
 
- "We'll build a pile. Come on."
+But she had lost it.
 
- They found the likeliest path down and began tugging at the dead wood. And the small boys who had reached the top came sliding too till everyone but Piggy was busy. Most of the wood was so rotten that when they pulled, it broke up into a shower of fragments and woodlice and decay; but some trunks came out in one piece. The twins, Sam 'n Eric, were the first to get a likely log but they could do nothing till Ralph, Jack, Simon, Roger and Maurice found room for a hand-hold. Then they inched the grotesque dead thing up the rock and toppled it over on top. Each party of boys added a quota, less or more, and the pile grew. At the return Ralph found himself alone on a limb with Jack and they grinned at each other, sharing this burden. Once more, amid the breeze, the shouting, the slanting sunlight on the high mountain, was shed that glamour, that strange invisible light of friendship, adventure, and content.
+She stood in front of the crowd and raised her arms.  They looked wary.
+Then she started to speak, and they all looked at her as if she was
+going to lead them to the promised land.
 
- "Almost too heavy."
+They was in the promised land.  She was going to show them that.  And
+then she was going to show them how to cast out the evil ones and take
+the land back.
 
- Jack grinned back.
+It would not be easy.
 
- "Not for the two of us."
+But it would be right.
 
- Together, joined in an effort by the burden, they staggered up the last steep Of the mountain. Together, they chanted One! Two! Three! and crashed the log on to the great pile. Then they stepped back, laughing with triumphant pleasure, so that immediately Ralph had to stand on his head. Below them, boys were still laboring, though some of the small ones had lost interest and were searching this new forest for fruit. Now the twins, with unsuspected intelligence, came up the mountain with armfuls of dried leaves and dumped them against the pile. One by one, as they sensed that the pile was complete, the boys stopped going back for more and stood, with the pink, shattered top of the mountain around them. Breath came evenly by now, and sweat dried.
+April 27, 2018
 
- Ralph and Jack looked at each other while society paused about them. The shameful knowledge grew in them and they did not know how to begin confession.
+12:55 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- Ralph spoke first, crimson in the face.
+170 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Will you?"
+Dr.  Leo Cross wished he had never seen this room.
 
- He cleared his throat and went on.
+It was a standard conference room, built in the middle of the last
+century, and furnished in the 1980s.  The conference table, which stood
+on wobbly legs, carried coffee rings so old that they were practically
+fossilized.  The cushions on the chairs had been worn thin fifteen
+years ago.
 
- "Will you light the fire?"
+Cross had sat in this room more than he wanted to think about, ever
+since the Tenth Planet Project was founded earlier that year.  The
+discussions here were often a prelude to gaining more information in
+the days before the attacks.  In those days, he had considered the
+meetings successful.
 
- Now the absurd situation was open, Jack blushed too. He began to mutter vaguely.
+Now he wasn't so sure.
 
- "You rub two sticks. You rub--"
+He kept going over and over information in his mind, wondering if he
+had spoken up sooner--maybe even a year sooner--about his suspicions,
+the first attacks wouldn't have gone as badly as they had.
 
- He glanced at Ralph, who blurted out the last confession of incompetence.
+But if he had spoken up then, he might have been dismissed as a
+crackpot.  He didn't have all the evidence then that he had when he
+finally approached his friend, Doug Mickelson, who was the secretary of
+state.  Doug had opened a pile of doors for him, and in many very real
+ways, got the Tenth Planet Project started.
 
- "Has anyone got any matches?"
+Britt set down the Starbucks travel mug that Cross had bought for her
+after the last Tenth Planet Project meeting.  The mug was steaming. 
+She set down a Starbucks paper cup for him, filled with the latte he'd
+asked for.  He wasn't sure, with the heavy breakfast, the interrupted
+sleep, and the awful way he'd been eating, that his stomach could take
+any more caffeine.
 
- "You make a bow and spin the arrow," said Roger. He rubbed his hands in mime. "Psss. Psss."
+Robert Shane of the President's Special Committee on Space Sciences,
+and one of the Project's cooler heads, sat down across from Britt.
+Shane was a tanned, athletic man whose blond hair was cropped short. He
+had sharp blue eyes and a quick wit that, Cross suspected, served him
+well in his government post.  Shane was first and foremost a scientist,
+and in all the meetings, through all the debates, Shane never forgot
+that, which was something Cross appreciated.
 
- A little air was moving over the mountain. Piggy came with it, in shorts and shirt, laboring cautiously out of the forest with the evening sunlight gleaming from his glasses. He held the conch under his arm.
+Britt took a sip from her mug, and tapped on her wrist 'puter.  Taking
+time away from the office to spend the morning with Cross had cost her
+a lot.  She had been working around the clock, canceling research times
+on the various space telescopes and trying to determine which agency
+now had priority with the vast machines.  Before the aliens had
+arrived, the telescopes' time was carefully parceled out to scientists
+and researchers all over the globe.  Now the crisis took precedence,
+and Britt found her orderly life in complete disarray.
 
- Ralph shouted at him.
+"I hope this damn thing starts on time."  Yolanda Hayes, the
+president's science adviser, walked into the room.  She had her dark
+hair pulled away from her face, and she was wearing minimal makeup.
+When Cross had first met her--what seemed like years ago, but was
+actually only seven months before--she was one of the most stylish
+women he had ever seen.  She still wore the clothes, but the details
+were gone: no painted nails, no lipstick.  It was as if she no longer
+had time for anything but the essentials.  "I feel like I'm
+coordinating an army."
 
- "Piggy! Have you got any matches?"
+"Maybe that's because you are."  Jesse Killius, the head of NASA,
+followed her into the room.  Jesse looked more tired than Cross had
+ever seen her.
 
- The other boys took up the cry till the mountain rang. Piggy shook his head and came to the pile.
+"I guess."  Hayes smiled, but the smile was small.  "My job used to be
+committees and advice.  I never expected to coordinate a nationwide
+research effort in so many different areas."
 
- "My! You've made a big heap, haven't you?"
+"None of us did," Shane said.  "At least we have the information about
+most of the nation's scientists at our fingertips."
 
- Jack pointed suddenly.
+Hayes nodded.  "I'm just worried that we don't have enough."
+
+No one answered her.  It was the fear they all had, on various levels,
+and it really had nothing to do with their areas of expertise.  It had
+to do with the aliens, the tenth planet, and the fact that they were in
+the lull between storms they didn't entirely understand.
+
+"I can't believe Clarissa's the one who's late," Killius said.  "She
+had her aide call me last night to remind me about this."
+
+"She's balancing too much," Shane said.  "She probably shouldn't even
+be in this meeting anymore."
+
+"I'm glad she is," Cross said.  "She's still representing the
+president."
+
+At that moment the door slammed back and General Clarissa Maddox strode
+into the room.  She was a powerfully built woman who wore her general's
+uniform like a shield.  Her back was so straight that Cross sometimes
+wondered if it had been surgically altered.
+
+She took her seat and nodded to the group.  "I see I'm just in time
+for the uplink," she said, which was probably the only acknowledgment
+she would make of being late.
+
+"Coffee, General?"  Shane asked.
+
+Half a smile crossed Maddox's face.  "Right now, I'm subsisting on the
+stuff.  I'd love some."
+
+Shane got up, went to the refreshments table, and poured her a cup.
+Even though there were pastries on the table as usual, no one had taken
+any.
+
+The two flat vid screens were already down.  As the clock hit 1 p.m."
+images appeared in various corners: the Japanese representatives, the
+European representatives, the Africans, and the newest members, the
+Chinese.  Most of the groups were sitting at long conference tables
+like the U.S. group was, and Cross was surprised that he knew the rooms
+in those faraway lands as well as he knew this room here.  In fact, it
+almost seemed as if the rooms were somewhere in this building, in parts
+he hadn't been to yet.
+
+The customary greetings in the various languages echoed.  The official
+language of the Tenth Planet Project was English, partly because it had
+become the language of science, and partly out of deference to the
+Americans, who were the ones who first put this meeting together.  But
+the greetings were always in the native tongues, and it was a custom no
+one wanted to forgo.
+
+When the formalities were done, General Maddox sighed so softly that
+only those at the U.S. table could hear her.  Then she smiled, a
+businesslike smile that had an edge of weariness to it.
+
+"I have a personal announcement first," she said.
+
+Cross stiffened.  Britt put her hand on his arm.  Here it comes, Shane
+mouthed.  Apparently he thought what they all were thinking: they were
+going to lose the general.
+
+"I've been asked to leave the Project," Maddox said, her voice
+strong.
+
+Shane rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly, his commentary on
+the stupidity of government clear, at least, to the people across the
+table.
+
+"But I have refused.  I believe that the work we do here may be the
+work that saves this planet.  I want to be a part of this as much as I
+want to be a part of the military team that eventually destroys those
+alien bastards."
 
- "His specs--use them as burning glasses!"
+Shane turned his head toward her in surprise.  Cross let himself relax.
+Britt squeezed his wrist, bowed her head, and smiled slightly.  None of
+them wanted to lose Maddox.
 
- Piggy was surrounded before he could back away.
+Maddox said, "I suspect that I will have to defend my place on this
+Project for some time to come.  That's my problem.  However, I do have
+one favor to ask of the group."
 
- "Here--let me go!" His voice rose to a shriek of terror as Jack snatched the glasses off his face. "Mind out! Give 'em back! I can hardly see! You'll break the conch!"
+Cross noted that everyone in all the various conference rooms around
+the world was watching her intently.
 
- Ralph elbowed him to ne side and knelt by the pile.
+"In the past we've had a bit of banter and a rather loose format for
+the meetings."
 
- "Stand out of the light."
+"Loose?"  Britt whispered so softly that only Cross could hear her.  It
+was his turn to smile.  Scientific meetings were never as structured as
+the meetings of the Tenth Planet Project had been.
 
- There was pushing and pulling and officious cries. Ralph moved the lenses back and forth, this way and that, till a glossy white image of the declining sun lay on a piece of rotten wood. Almost at once a thin trickle of smoke rose up and made him cough. Jack knelt too and blew gently, so that the smoke drifted away, thickening, and a tiny flame appeared. The flame, nearly invisible at first in that bright sunlight, enveloped a small twig, grew, was enriched with color and reached up to a branch which exploded with a sharp crack. The flame flapped higher and the boys broke into a cheer.
+"I would like now to run these meetings as efficiently as possible."
 
- "My specs!" howled Piggy. "Give me my specs!"
+One of the Russian scientists started to protest.  Maddox held up a
+hand for silence.
 
- Ralph stood away from the pile and put the glasses into Piggy's groping hands. His voice subsided to a mutter.
+"I understand the need for informal discussion," she said.  "I can no
+longer be present for that.  So instead of holding those discussions
+within the structure of the meeting, I have arranged to keep the uplink
+going for as long as necessary after the formal meeting, so that the
+informal talks can continue.  All I ask is that I am briefed on any new
+and important information that comes from the informal discussions.  Is
+that acceptable to the group?"
 
- "Jus' blurs, that's all. Hardly see my hand--"
+All of the members of the Project nodded, and many spoke the word "yes"
+aloud.
 
- The boys were dancing. The pile was so rotten, and now so tinder-dry, that whole limbs yielded passionately to the yellow flames that poured upwards and shook a great beard of flame twenty feet in the air. For yards round the fire the heat was like a blow, and the breeze was a river of sparks. Trunks crumbled to white dust.
+Maddox's smile was real this time.  "Good," she said.  "Very good.
+Then let's get this meeting under way."
 
- Ralph shouted.
+She touched her wrist'puter, where it seemed as if she had a list of
+notes.  Britt also had notes, and several of the others at the
+international tables seemed to have notes as well.
 
- "More wood! All of you get more wood!"
+"Since I started," Maddox said, "let me continue with a matter the
+president has asked me to bring to your attention."
 
- Life became a race with the fire and the boys scattered through the upper forest. To keep a clean flag of flame flying on the mountain was the immediate end and no one looked further. Even the smallest boys, unless fruit claimed them, brought little pieces of wood and threw them in. The air moved a little faster and became a light wind, so that leeward and windward side were clearly differentiated. On one side the air was cool, but on the other the fire thrust out a savage arm of heat that crinkled hair on the instant. Boys who felt the evening wind on their damp faces paused to enjoy the freshness of it and then found they were exhausted. They flung themselves down in the shadows that lay among the shattered rocks. The beard of flame diminished quickly; then the pile fell inwards with a soft, cindery sound, and sent a great tree of sparks upwards that leaned away and drifted downwind. The boys lay, panting like dogs.
+Cross cradled his cooling latte.  He wondered if Jamison had had any
+luck yet in Monterey, and if so, why he hadn't paged Cross.
 
- Ralph raised his head off his forearms.
+"All of the world leaders have discussed this, but the president asked
+me to make a special point of mentioning it here."
 
- "That was no good."
+Britt's grip on Cross's wrist eased.
 
- Roger spat efficiently into the hot dust.
+"The Tenth Planet Project is something the press does not know about.
+Our governments have managed to keep a lid on our work, as well as on
+one other thing: no one has yet, in any credible way, leaked the news
+that the tenth planet will make a return visit in five and a half
+months.  All our analysts believe there will be massive riots and
+destruction, with millions dead, if the world finds out that what
+happened two weeks ago was only a prelude to another alien attack.  We
+cannot allow this to happen."
 
- "What d'you mean?"
+There was a general murmuring of agreement.  Cross waited for the
+rest.
 
- "There wasn't any smoke. Only flame."
+"We have been ordered not to speak to the press about the future of the
+tenth planet.  No hints, no leaks.  We need to keep this information
+contained, and part of containment is this: if there is a leak, we have
+to squelch it, and quickly."
 
- Piggy had settled himself in a space between two rocks, and sat with the conch on his knees.
+"You want us to lie," one of the Chinese representatives said.
 
- "We haven't made a fire," he said, "what's any use. We couldn't keep a fire like that going, not if we tried."
+"If necessary," Maddox said.
 
- "A fat lot you tried," said Jack contemptuously. "You just sat."
+"The news will get out eventually," Britt said.
 
- "We used his specs," said Simon, smearing a black cheek with his forearm. "He helped that way."
+Maddox frowned at her.
 
- "I got the conch," said Piggy indignantly. "You let me speak!"
+Britt shrugged.  "Scientists all over the world are familiar with the
+tenth planet now.  They may not be part of our organization, but
+they're not dumb.  They're going to come to the same conclusions we
+do."
 
- "The conch doesn't count on top of the mountain," said Jack, "so you shut up."
+"We've already spoken to the best and the brightest in astronomy and
+physics, at least in this country," Yolanda Hayes said.  "They're under
+instruction to send any new information to the president's Science
+Office first.  We're forming a brain trust to be coordinated by me,
+Robert Shane, and two other members of the White House's scientific
+community."
 
- "I got the conch in my hand."
+"You're going to control the free flow of information?"  Cross asked,
+unable to keep quiet any longer.
 
- "Put on green branches," said Maurice. "That's the best way to make smoke."
+"In a nutshell, yes, Dr.  Cross."  Maddox crossed her arms.  "What's
+your problem with this?  I assume you don't want the millions of dead,
+which rioting would cause, any more than I do."
 
- "I got the conch--"
+Her remark was like a slap, but he went on anyway.  "Science doesn't
+function with restrictions on information."
 
- Jack turned fiercely.
+"Are you familiar with the Manhattan Project?"  Maddox's voice was
+cold.
 
- "You shut up!"
+"You're comparing us to a group of scientists hidden in the New Mexico
+desert, a group whose mission was to design the deadliest weapon of all
+time?"  Cross turned toward her.
 
- Piggy wilted. Ralph took the conch from him and looked round the circle of boys.
+"Leo," Britt whispered.  "Not now."
 
- "We've got to have special people for looking after the fire. Any day there may be a ship out there"--he waved his arm at the taut wire of the horizon--"and if we have a signal going they'll come and take us off. And another thing. We ought to have more rules. Where the conch is, that's a meeting. The same up here as down there."
+He ignored her.  The other members of the Project were silent.
 
- They assented. Piggy opened his mouth to speak, caught Jack's eye and shut it again. Jack held out his hands for the conch and stood up, holding the delicate thing carefully in his sooty hands.
+"Yes," Maddox said.  "I am."
 
- "I agree with Ralph. We've got to have rules and obey them. After all, we're not savages. We're English, and the English are best at everything. So we've got to do the right things."
+"In many ways our mission is similar," Hayes said.
 
- He turned to Ralph.
+Cross turned to her.  "I can't believe you want to stifle the free flow
+of information," he said.  "You of all people know how valuable it is
+to scientists."
 
- "Ralph, I'll split up the choir--my hunters, that is--into groups, and we'll be responsible for keeping the fire going--"
+"I believe in a trade-off," Hayes said.  "If we don't control this
+information, we'll have rioting in the streets, and I personally can't
+live with the idea I could be even partially responsible."
 
- This generosity brought a spatter of applause from the boys, so that Jack grinned at them, then waved the conch for silence.
+Maddox looked pointedly at her watch.  Cross ignored her.  "I
+understand the press blackout," he said.  "It's the rest of it.  The
+brain trust, the control of information even among scientists--"
 
- "We'll let the fire burn out now. Who would see smoke at night-time, anyway? And we can start the fire again whenever we like. Altos, you can keep the fire going this week, and trebles the next--"
+"Someone will leak it," Killius said.  "You know as well as I do that
+scientists don't always have the best social skills.  They sometimes
+don't think about the people applications.  Do you want some
+lower-level astronomer posting his notes on the tenth planet's return
+on the Internet?  Others'll check it and--"
 
- The assembly assented gravely.
+"How do we prevent it?"  Cross said.  "Just because you have the best
+and the brightest already on tap doesn't mean that some amateur
+astronomer won't figure it out on his own."
 
- "And we'll be responsible for keeping a lookout too. If we see a ship out there"--they followed the direction of his bony arm with their eyes--"we'll put green branches on. Then there'll be more smoke."
+"That's a problem," Hayes said.
 
- They gazed intently at the dense blue of the horizon, as if a little silhouette might appear there at any moment.
+"Yeah, it's a problem," Cross said.  "It's a twofold problem.  The
+amateurs are often the ones who come up with the most creative
+solutions.  And right now, that's what we need.  We need creativity,
+not some brain trust sitting around in a damn meeting!"
 
- The sun in the west was a drop of burning gold that slid nearer and nearer the sill of the world. All at once they were aware of the evening as the end of light and warmth.
+He slammed his hand against the table and the sound silenced everyone.
+They were all staring at him.
 
- Roger took the conch and looked round at them gloomily.
+His heart was pounding, and he was breathing hard.  They clearly knew
+that he was frustrated being in the room, but he wasn't going to back
+down.  He had a point.  They had to see that, too.
 
- "I've been watching the sea. There hasn't been the trace of a ship. Perhaps we'll never be rescued."
+"Pardon me," one of the British physicists said, "but I do see both
+your points.  Dr.  Cross is right; it is always better to share
+information among like minds.  However, if perhaps we set up a web site
+or a contact number for people who believe they have valuable
+information, we will still be able to get the input of the creative
+amateurs."
 
- A murmur rose and swept away. Ralph took back the conch.
+"And who'll monitor the sites?"  Hayes asked.  She sounded as frayed as
+Cross felt.  "That'll be a full-time job in and of itself."
 
- "I said before we'll be rescued sometime. We've just got to wait, that's all."
+"Graduate students," Shane said.  "Research assistants.  Maybe some
+high school science teachers.  Folks who we can trust with the
+knowledge but who won't be on the brain trust."
 
- Daring, indignant, Piggy took the conch.
+"This is a compromise, Dr.  Cross," Maddox said, "and I believe it's
+the only one you'll get.  It's better than anything I would have
+mentioned.  But then, I have a military mentality, as some of you are
+fond of pointing out."
 
- "That's what I said! I said about our meetings and things and then you said shut up--"
+Cross made himself swallow hard.  Maddox was right.  This was a
+compromise, and it was probably the best one he was going to get.
+"We're going to need someone to coordinate this effort in each
+country."
 
- His voice lifted into the whine of virtuous recrimination. They stirred and began to shout him down.
+"I'm sure that's something that can be determined after I leave,"
+Maddox said.
 
- "You said you wanted a small fire and you been and built a pile like a hayrick. If I say anything," cried Piggy, with bitter realism, "you say shut up; but if Jack or Maurice or Simon--"
+"I think it can, General," Shane said quickly, with a look toward
+Cross.  "I have some ideas that might make it work."
 
- He paused in the tumult, standing, looking beyond them and down the unfriendly side of the mountain to the great patch where they had found dead wood. Then he laughed so strangely that they were hushed, looking at the flash of his spectacles in astonishment. They followed his gaze to find the sour joke.
+"As long as any new information is contained, I don't care what you
+do," Maddox said.  "But believe me, if something leaks, I'll have that
+leak traced ar 4 the leaker's butt in a sling so fast that he won't
+even know what hit him.  Is that clear, Dr.  Cross?"
 
- "You got your small fire all right."
+"I won't leak anything, General," he said.  "I kept this a secret for a
+lot longer than anyone else."
 
- Smoke was rising here and there among the creepers that festooned the dead or dying trees. As they watched, a flash of fire appeared at the root of one wisp, and then the smoke thickened. Small flames stirred at the trunk of a tree and crawled away through leaves and brushwood, dividing and increasing. One patch touched a tree trunk and scrambled up like a bright squirrel. The smoke increased, sifted, rolled outwards. The squirrel leapt on the wings of the wind and clung to another standing tree, eating downwards. Beneath the dark canopy of leaves and smoke the fire laid hold on the forest and began to gnaw. Acres of black and yellow smoke rolled steadily toward the sea. At the sight of the flames and the irresistible course of the fire, the boys broke into shrill, excited cheering. The flames, as though they were a kind of wild life, crept as a jaguar creeps on its belly toward a line of birch-like saplings that fledged an outcrop of the pink rock. They flapped at the first of the trees, and the branches grew a brief foliage of fire. The heart of flame leapt nimbly across the gap between the trees and then went swinging and flaring along the whole row of them. Beneath the capering boys a quarter of a mile square of forest was savage with smoke and flame. The separate noises of the fire merged into a drum-roll that seemed to shake the mountain.
+Her gaze met his and in it, he thought he saw a trace of sympathy.  So
+the general understood his argument and the problems with silence.
+Good.  He hoped the others did.
 
- "You got your small fire all right."
+"Good," she said.  "Moving on.  The second item on my agenda is,
+ironically enough, the sharing of information between governments.  We
+need to keep our people in the dark to prevent rioting, but we, as
+governments, need to share as much as possible.  With that in mind, I'd
+like to update you on the USs military position."
 
- Startled, Ralph realized that the boys were falling still and silent, feeling the beginnings of awe at the power set free below them. The knowledge and the awe made him savage.
+As she talked about troop counts and training and increased weapons
+buildup, Cross finished his now-cold latte and calmed himself down.
+Without the free flow of information,
 
- "Oh, shut up!"
+Cross would never have put together the facts that led to the
+discovery of the tenth planet.  He had contacted archaeologists via
+e-mail, amateurs and professionals alike, asking simple, pointed
+questions.  He'd brought Edwin Bradshaw into his circle--Bradshaw, who
+had been a man ahead of his time, and then had been disgraced for
+research that was now proving central to the tenth planet itself. Cross
+could have done none of that with the strictures the governments wanted
+to impose.
 
- "I got the conch," said Piggy, in a hurt voice. "I got a right to speak."
+"... in the history of the world," the German military representative
+was saying, "there has never been a military buildup like this one. Not
+this quick, not this uniform, not worldwide."
 
- They looked at him with eyes that lacked interest in what they saw, and cocked ears at the drum-roll of the fire. Piggy glanced nervously into hell and cradled the conch.
+"Every country that has a military is deploying it," said the British
+Cabinet member who was fulfilling the equivalent of Maddox's duties in
+his tenth planet group.
 
- "We got to let that burn out now. And that was our firewood."
+"We've stepped up production of aircraft, weaponry, and anything else
+we can think of that might defeat these aliens," Maddox said.
 
- He licked his lips.
+Cross wondered why.  The weapons had done no good against the alien
+ships last time.  Or at least not much good.  He guessed building
+weapons was the only thing the military knew how to do.
 
- "There ain't nothing we can do. We ought to be more careful. I'm scared--"
+"Please," the head of the Japanese group said, "my people have a
+special request."
 
- Jack dragged his eyes away from the fire.
+Everyone was silent.  The Japanese listened more than spoke at these
+meetings.
 
- "You're always scared. Yah--Fatty!"
+"We are not only conscripting our young people for military duty," the
+Japanese leader said, "but we are also taking our youngest scientists,
+the award-winning students, and putting them to work on various
+projects that might help us defeat the aliens.  We believe we are alone
+in this program.  We ask that other countries do the same."
 
- "I got the conch," said Piggy bleakly. He turned to Ralph. "I got the conch, ain't I Ralph?"
+"A modified way of dealing with your objections, Dr.  Cross," Shane
+said.
 
- Unwillingly Ralph turned away from the splendid, awful sight.
+Cross shrugged.  "It'll do."
 
- "What's that?"
+"It's a wonderful idea," Britt said.
 
- "The conch. I got a right to speak."
+"I think," Killius said, "we might also want to consider funneling some
+of our young people into accelerated astronaut programs."
 
- The twins giggled together.
+Her words were met with another silence as the members contemplated
+them.  Then, one by one, the leaders of the various groups nodded.
 
- "We wanted smoke--"
+"Excellent," Maddox said.  "We're accomplishing more here than I
+thought we would."
 
- "Now look--!"
+Yeah, Cross thought.  And if the world survives, everything will be
+different.  We won't recognize the military culture we've built.  Or be
+able to control it.
 
- A pall stretched for miles away from the island. All the boys except Piggy started to giggle; presently they were shrieking with laughter.
+But he said nothing, because as far as he could see, there was no
+choice.
 
- Piggy lost his temper.
+"Dr.  Cross," Maddox said.  "Has there been any progress on the
+nanomachines?"
 
- "I got the conch! Just you listen! The first thing we ought to have made was shelters down there by the beach. It wasn't half cold down there in the night. But the first time Ralph says 'fire' you goes howling and screaming up this here mountain. Like a pack of kids!"
+He sighed.  "Not the kind I want," he said.  "We haven't found one. But
+we do have a device that might make finding one possible.  We have
+teams at the various damage sites"--he was already using euphemistic
+language himself--"searching for the machines.  I was there myself
+until I was called back here, a move that the general probably
+regrets."
 
- By now they were listening to the tirade.
+There was laughter all around.  Maddox even smiled.
 
- "How can you expect to be rescued if you don't put first things first and act proper?"
+"We can disagree, Dr.  Cross, but your opinion is extremely valuable to
+this Project," she said.
 
- He took off his glasses and made as if to put down the conch; but the sudden motion toward it of most of the older boys changed his mind. He tucked the shell under his arm, and crouched back on a rock.
+"Thanks," he said.  "Statistically, we should find more than one
+nanomachine--enough were left to form a fossilized record in the
+past--so it's only a matter of time.  The key is, the sooner we find
+one of these things, the more time we have to study the aliens'
+technology.  And if we're going to defeat them, we're going to defeat
+them through knowledge, not guesswork."
 
- "Then when you get here you build a bonfire that isn't no use. Now you been and set the whole island on fire. Won't we look funny if the whole island burns up? Cooked fruit, that's what we'll have to eat, and roast pork. And that's nothing to laugh at! You said Ralph was chief and you don't give him time to think. Then when he says something you rush off, like, like--"
+"That said," Maddox said, "does the South American team have
+information from the downed alien craft?"
 
- He paused for breath, and the fire growled at them.
+On the vid screen in front of them, one of the men sitting at the
+South American conference table stood up.  He folded his hands together
+and nodded toward someone off the monitor.
 
- "And that's not all. Them kids. The little 'uns. Who took any notice of 'em? Who knows how many we got?"
+That someone, a man, joined him.  Both men were thin and wore dark
+suits.  They could almost have been twins if it weren't for one man's
+thick head of hair, and the other's baldness.
 
- Ralph took a sudden step forward.
+"We have just begun work on the ships," the first man said.  "We have
+very little by way of preliminary findings, only that it was not what
+we expected."
 
- "I told you to. I told you to get a list of names!"
+"What did you expect?"  Shane asked.
 
- "How could I," cried Piggy indignantly, "all by myself? They waited for two minutes, then they fell in the sea; they went into the forest; they just scattered everywhere. How was I to know which was which?"
+The other man smiled.  "Perhaps something out of your American movies."
+Then he shrugged.  "But we have been working with a large group of
+scientists.  We have found little enough to report, but our biologists
+have studied the alien remains."
 
- Ralph licked pale lips.
+Cross felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.  He had been
+so focused on the technology and preventing the aliens from returning,
+he hadn't even thought of the possibility of alien remains in those
+downed ships.  But, of course, they would be there.
 
- "Then you don't know how many of us there ought to be?"
+"They are quite different from us, and yet, I think we may have had
+similar origins."  A third man had joined the group.  He was speaking
+with an Australian accent.  "I lead the biological team," he said by
+way of introduction.
 
- "How could I with them little 'uns running round like insects? Then when you three came back, as soon as you said make a fire, they all ran away, and I never had a chance--"
+"Continue," Maddox said.
 
- "That's enough!" said Ralph sharply, and snatched back the conch. "If you didn't you didn't."
+He nodded.  "I would guess they originated in their planet's oceans as
+we did in ours.  Only when they climbed into the primordial ooze, they
+kept their tentacles and a few other features.  They breathe through
+slits, like gills.  There are many other features to their anatomy that
+we don't completely understand yet, but we have done one thing.  We
+have, using the information we got from the remains and from the
+structure of the ship, created a composite sketch of what we believe
+these aliens look like alive.  I will uplink it now."
 
- "--then you come up here an' pinch my specs--"
+The vid screen blanked for a brief moment.
 
- Jack turned on him.
+"Sorry," Maddox said to the group in front of her.  "That's the
+security protocols kicking in.  Our techs are instructed to
+double-check the secure lines before images other than our own go over
+them."
 
- "You shut up!"
+Cross folded his hands and rested them on the table.  Britt put the
+plastic cap on her mug.  She slid her chair back slightly.
 
- "--and them little 'uns was wandering about down there where the fire is. How d'you know they aren't still there?"
+Then the screen lightened again.
 
- Piggy stood up and pointed to the smoke and flames. A murmur rose among the boys and died away. Something strange was happening to Piggy, for he was gasping for breath.
+The image facing them was not what Cross had expected, even hearing
+about the tentacles.  The creature before him had smooth, rubbery black
+skin--if skin was what you called it-that covered an oblong center.
+Cross was reminded of the middle portion of the butterfly, the part
+that held the antennae and wings in place.
 
- "That little 'un--" gasped Piggy--"him with the mark on his face, I don't see him. Where is he now?"
+Tentacles floated off the middle of the torso, and the bottom of the
+oblong center.  At the top were what appeared to be more tentacles
+until the image shifted.
 
- The crowd was as silent as death.
+They were long stems, with eyes on the top.
 
- "Him that talked about the snakes. He was down there--"
+Cross shuddered.
 
- A tree exploded in the fire like a bomb. Tall swathes of creepers rose for a moment into view, agonized, and went down again. The little boys screamed at them.
+The biologist was explaining that the breathing slits were on the sides
+near the top of the oblong center and that there were pockets at the
+very top of the creature's torso thingy, ten of them, probably for the
+eyes.  The alien looked like a squid crossed with some sort of nasty
+stinging bug.
 
- "Snakes! Snakes! Look at the snakes!"
+Cross shuddered.  He was completely repulsed.  And he didn't know
+why.
 
- In the west, and unheeded, the sun lay only an inch or two above the sea. Their faces were lit redly from beneath. Piggy fell against a rock and clutched it with both hands.
+But he did know he was going to do everything in his power to strike
+back at these creatures for what they had done to his planet.  And his
+people.
 
- "That little 'un that had a mark on his face--where is--he now? I tell you I don't see him."
+April 27,2018
 
- The boys looked at each other fearfully, unbelieving.
+21:05 Universal Time
 
- "--where is he now?"
+170 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- Ralph muttered the reply as if in shame. "Perhaps he went back to the, the--" Beneath them, on the unfriendly side of the mountain, the drum-roll continued.
+Malmuria filled the streets.  Overhead the great solar panels had
+tightened down, so that a brown light filtered through.  The light was
+greater than Malmuria were used to, but it was still thin and provided
+little illumination.
 
- 
+Barely enough to see the Elders, floating toward the Great Monument,
+their wispy bodies like black smoke pouring across the city.
 
- 
+Cicoi had never seen so many of his people outside.  Young females,
+their tentacles tight around their bodies, stood beside older females
+who had briefly left the nests untended.  Worker males had left their
+jobs and were standing in clumps, as far from the females as possible.
+And family males, what few of them had been allowed to awaken, were
+standing with their females, huddled close as if they derived comfort
+from the bodies around them.
 
- CHAPTER THREE Huts on the Beach
+All of the Malmuria had un pocketed two eye stalks--any more would be
+an insult--and all of those eye stalks were raised toward the sky,
+turning, watching, as the Elders moved forward.
 
- 
+Cicoi had never seen such a sight.  The buildings behind me Malmuria
+were filled with more timid members of the communities, leaning out
+windows that hadn't been opened in generations, standing on balconies
+whose use was long forgotten.
 
- Jack was bent double. He was down like a sprinter, his nose only a few inches from the humid earth. The tree trunks and the creepers that festooned them lost themlves in a green dusk thirty feet above him, and all about was the undergrowth. There was only the faintest indication of a trail here; a cracked twig and what might be the impression of one side of a hoof. He lowered his chin and stared at the traces as though he would force them to speak to him. Then dog-like, uncomfortably on all fours yet unheeding his discomfort, he stole forward five yards and stopped. Here was loop of creeper with a tendril pendant from a node. The tendril was polished on the underside; pigs, passing through the loop, brushed it with their bristly hide.
+So much change.  Cicoi raised a single tentacle and let it fall.  More
+change than he had ever wanted to see.
 
- Jack crouched with his face a few inches away from this clue, then stared forward into the semi-darkness of the undergrowth. His sandy hair, considerably longer than it had been when they dropped in, was lighter now; and his bare back was a mass of dark freckles and peeling sunburn. A sharpened stick about five feet long trailed from his right hand, and except for a pair of tattered shorts held up by his knife-belt he was naked. He closed his eyes, raised his head and breathed in gently with flared nostrils, assessing the current of warm air for information. The forest and he were very still.
+He stood on the tips of all of his lower tentacles on the slide leading
+up to Command Central.  The Commanders of the North and Center were
+beside him, their posture the same as
 
- At length he let out his breath in a long sigh and opened his eyes. They were bright blue, eyes that in this frustration seemed bolting and nearly mad. He passed his tongue across dry lips and scanned the uncommunicative forest. Then again he stole forward and cast this way and that over the ground.
+his.  None of them spoke to the others; they didn't dare.  The Elders
+weren't done with them yet.
 
- The silence of the forest was more oppressive than the heat, and at this hour of the day there was not even the whine of insects. Only when Jack himself roused a gaudy bird from a primitive nest of sticks was the silence shattered and echoes set ringing by a harsh cry that seemed to come out of the abyss of ages. Jack himself shrank at this cry with a hiss of indrawn breath, and for a minute became less a hunter than a furtive thing, ape-like among the tangle of trees. Then the trail, the frustration, claimed him again and he searched the ground avidly. By the trunk of a vast tree that grew pale flowers on its grey bark he checked, closed his eyes, and once more drew in the warm air; and this time his breath came short, there was even a passing pallor in his face, and then the surge of blood again. He passed like a shadow under the darkness of the tree and crouched, looking down at the trodden ground at his feet.
+How Cicoi knew that, he had no idea.  But he suspected it had to do
+with the Elders touching the inside of his brain.
 
- The droppings were warm. They lay piled among turned earth. They were olive green, smooth, and they steamed a little. Jack lifted his head and stared at the inscrutable masses of creeper that lay across the trail. Then he raised his spear and sneaked forward. Beyond the creeper, the trail joined a pig-run that was wide enough and trodden enough to be a path. The ground was hardened by an accustomed tread and as Jack rose to his full height he heard something moving on it. He swung back his right arm and hurled the spear with all his strength. From the pig-run came the quick, hard patter of hoofs, a castanet sound, seductive, maddening--the promise of meat. He rushed out of the undergrowth and snatched up his spear. The pattering of pig's trotters died away in the distance.
+The Elders floated as a group toward the Great Monument, the last thing
+ever built by the ancient Malmuria, in the days before they left their
+original sun.
 
- Jack stood there, streaming with sweat, streaked with brown earth, stained by all the vicissitudes of a day's hunting. Swearing, he turned off the trail and pushed his way through until the forest opened a little and instead of bald trunks supporting a dark roof there were light grey trunks and crowns of feathery palm. Beyond these was the glitter of the sea and he could hear voices. Ralph was standing by a contraption of palm trunks and leaves, a rude shelter that faced the lagoon and seemed very near to falling down. He did not notice when Jack spoke.
+It was a statue of the ten greatest leaders, each with their ten best
+advisers, eye stalks pointed toward the stars as if they could see into
+the blackness of space, tentacles flowing freely as was once allowed.
+Cicoi loved that monument; it spoke of things lost and things gained,
+at least to him.  He had never heard any of his own people discuss its
+actual meaning.
 
- "Got any water?"
+The Elders encircled it.  Some leaned against the central ten figures.
+Others touched the tentacles of the advisers.  There were not enough
+Elders to touch all of the advisers.
 
- Ralph looked up, frowning, from the complication of leaves. He did not notice Jack even when he saw him.
+My people, said the Elder who had spoken before.
 
- "I said have you got any water? I'm thirsty." Ralph withdrew his attention from the shelter and realized Jack with a start.
+In unison, all of the eye stalks were pocketed.  Heads went down,
+tentacles flattened in a submissive position.  The sound of so much
+movement echoed in the square.
 
- "Oh, hullo. Water? There by the tree. Ought to be some left."
+Cicoi kept one stalk out.  He wanted to see, and he knew it was
+allowed.
 
- Jack took up a coconut shell that brimmed with fresh water from among a group that was arranged in the shade, and drank. The water splashed over his chin and neck and chest. He breathed noisily when he had finished.
+We shall do all we can to preserve our people.  You must trust in us,
+as you have in the past.  Now.  Go back to your work.
 
- "Needed that."
+Single stalks rose and pointed away from the Elders.  Keeping heads
+bowed and tentacles as flat as possible, the Malmuria filed toward
+their work.
 
- Simon spoke from inside the shelter.
+Cicoi took a deep breath.  He turned toward Command Central's main door
+only to find a single Elder before him.  He did not recognize which one
+this was: they were so wispy as to be almost formless.
 
- "Up a bit."
+Other Elders stood before the Commanders of the North and Center.
 
- Ralph turned to the shelter and lifted a branch with a whole tiling of leaves.
+You seem hesitant, the Elder said, and Cicoi wondered if it was
+speaking to him, or to all three of them.
 
- The leaves came apart and fluttered down. Simon's contrite face appeared in the hole.
+None of the others answered.  Cicoi could only assume that the Elder
+was speaking directly to him.
 
- "Sorry."
+"I am not hesitant," Cicoi said softly.
 
- Ralph surveyed the wreck with distaste.
+Ah, the Elder said, and his head moved slightly forward.  But you are.
+You have concerns about the creatures of the third planet.  You believe
+because they have developed technology, because they have learned, they
+should not die.
 
- "Never get it done."
+Cicoi flattened his tentacles and moved his eyestalk into a position of
+respect.  "It has always been our policy to leave the natives as
+untouched as possible."
 
- He flung himself down at Jack's feet. Simon remained, looking out of the hole in the shelter. Once down, Ralph explained.
+We no longer have time for niceties, Commander.  The Elder's mental
+voice seemed colder than it had before.  Cicoi did not know how that
+was possible, but it was.  We are speaking of the survival of our own
+people.
 
- "Been working for days now. And look!"
+"I know," Cicoi said.
 
- Two shelters were in position, but shaky. This one was a ruin.
+You are young.  Inexperienced.  You do not know.
 
- "And they keep running off. You remember the meeting? How everyone was going to work hard until the shelters were finished?"
+Cicoi raised one of his eye stalks enough to peek out of the pocket.
+The other two Commanders appeared to be getting instructions from their
+Elders, not having conversations.
 
- "Except me and my hunters--"
+Are you paying attention?  This time the Elder's voice held the
+sharpness of command.
 
- "Except the hunters. Well, the littluns are--"
+"Yes, O Great One.  I'm sorry."
 
- He gesticulated, sought for a word.
+We were speaking of our survival.
 
- "They're hopeless. The older ones aren't much better. D'you see? All day I've been working with Simon. No one else. They're off bathing, or eating, or playing."
+"I know."
 
- Simon poked his head out carefully.
+Survival occurs at all costs.
 
- "You're chief. You tell 'em off."
+Cicoi almost lost control of the single fully extended eyestalk.  He
+forced himself to hold it in place.  "All costs?"
 
- Ralph lay flat and looked up at the palm trees and the sky.
+You are young, the Elder said.  Six of its upper tentacles floated
+free.  Cicoi couldn't tell if they indicated annoyance, amusement, or
+both.  We were speaking of the creatures on the third planet, and your
+sympathy for them.
 
- "Meetings. Don't we love meetings? Every day. Twice a day. We talk." He got on one elbow. "I bet if I blew the conch this minute, they'd come running. Then we'd be, you know, very solemn, and someone would say we ought to build a jet, or a submarine, or a TV set. When the meeting was over they'd work for five minutes, then wander off or go hunting."
+"It's not sympathy."
 
- Jack flushed.
+Empathy then.  A reluctance to kill sentient beings.
 
- "We want meat."
+"It is a tenet of our training."  80
 
- "Well, we haven't got any yet. And we want shelters. Besides, the rest of your hunters came back hours ago. They've been swimming."
+It is a luxury.  All ethical considerations are luxuries in grave
+situations.
 
- "I went on," said Jack. "I let them go. I had to go on. I--"
+Cicoi felt his lower tentacles wobble.  "We have to make choices that
+do not diminish us."
 
- He tried to convey the compulsion to track down and kill that was swallowing him up.
+Do you think anyone will care what our choices were if our species does
+not survive?  The Elder moved closer to him.  Cicoi had to concentrate
+to prevent himself from backing away.  I am not telling you to kill
+indiscriminately.  I am ordering you to view all options.  The
+creatures of the third planet have proven themselves to be resourceful.
+If they hold us off, if they destroy more of our harvesters, the choice
+will come down to one thing: their survival or ours.
 
- "I went on. I thought, by myself--"
+Cicoi's eyestalk toppled, and he pocketed it quickly, making himself
+temporarily blind.  He raised a different eyestalk.
 
- The madness came into his eyes again.
+Theirs or ours, the Elder repeated.  If it comes to it, can you order
+the destruction of the creatures of the third planet?
 
- "I thought I might--kill."
+"All of them?"
 
- "But you didn't."
+We might need them gone because of their fighting capability.  Or -we
+might need their organic material for food.  The third planet is not as
+rich as it was in my time.  The Elder's transparent eye stalks turned
+toward him.  Which is a long way of saying, yes.  You might have to
+destroy all of them.  Can you do so?
 
- "I thought I might."
+Cicoi wobbled again on his lower tentacles.  He couldn't maintain the
+position of respect much longer.
 
- Some hidden passion vibrated in Ralph's voice.
+The Elder's ten eyes were staring at him.  They seemed eerie, with
+their whitened pupils, their transparent lids.
 
- "But you haven't yet."
+"Yes," Cicoi finally said.  "I'll do what I have to.  I will protect my
+people first and foremost."
 
- His invitation might have passed as casual, were it not for the undertone.
+The Elder's eye stalks bent slightly, and then he turned them toward
+his companions.  We have agreement from the Commander of the South.
 
- "You wouldn't care to help with the shelters, I suppose?"
+And the North, came a different Elder's voice.
 
- "We want meat--"
+And Center, came a third.
 
- "And we don't get it."
+Cicoi bowed his head and folded his tentacles into a position of
+submission.  Survival at all costs.  It was the only way.
 
- Now the antagonism was audible.
+4
 
- "But I shall! Next time! I've got to get a barb on this spear! We wounded a pig and the spear fell out. If we could only make barbs--"
+April 29, 2018
 
- "We need shelters."
+11:16 a.m. Pacific Daylight Time
 
- Suddenly Jack shouted in rage.
+168 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Are you accusing--?"
+Somehow, seeing the destruction a second time wasn't as devastating.
+Perhaps that was because Cross was prepared for it.
 
- "All I'm saying is we've worked dashed hard. That's all."
+He sat in the back of a helicopter, again, the same pilot in front of
+him.  Sunlight played across the majestic Pacific, sparkling on the
+waves.  He saw the white spot among all the black as the copter turned
+and began its rapid descent.
 
- They were both red in the face and found looking at each other difficult. Ralph rolled on his stomach and began to play with the grass.
+Cross wasn't nervous this time.  He was feeling optimistic and it felt
+strange.
 
- "If it rains like when we dropped in we'll need shelters all right. And then another thing. We need shelters because of the--"
+Jamison had paged him less than twenty-four hours ago, claiming he had
+found what they were looking for.  A cache of the little alien
+nanomachines.
 
- He paused for a moment and they both pushed their anger away. Then he went on with the safe, changed subject.
+Cross's stomach had settled down for the first time in weeks.  He even
+ate some leftover pot roast from the dinner Constance had prepared for
+him while he was packing for his second flight across country in less
+than a week.
 
- "You've noticed, haven't you?"
+He was glad to be returning to California.  The Tenth Planet Project
+meeting had left him unsettled.  Britt claimed it was because of the
+discussion about secrecy.
 
- Jack put down his spear and squatted.
+Cross knew that it was his reaction to the aliens.
 
- "Noticed what?"
+Something about them had penetrated his scientific aloofness.  If he
+had to guess, he would say something buried within him recognized that
+visage as the face of the enemy.  He had mentioned it to Shane in
+passing, and Shane had laughed.
 
- "Well. They're frightened."
+"You mean we've got an instinctual reaction to those things?"  he
+asked.  "Like a rabbit instinctively knows the shadow of a hawk means
+danger?"
 
- He rolled over and peered into Jack's fierce, dirty face.
+"I don't like your analogy," Cross said.  "But yeah, I think that might
+be what's going on.  Didn't you have a reaction?"
 
- "I mean the way things are. They dream. You can hear 'em. Have you been awake at night?"
+"Of course," Shane said, "but my rationale for it was different.  I
+know what those creatures can do.  I think I have a right to be
+repulsed. And angry."
 
- Jack shook his head.
+"It's not a scientific reaction," Cross said.
 
- "They talk and scream. The littluns. Even some of the others. As if--"
+"Since when did an emotional response become unscientific?"  Shane
+asked.  "You might have been looking on the thing that will kill you.
+Don't you think that'll create a reaction--in anyone?"
 
- "As if it wasn't a good island."
+Shane had a point, but, days later, Cross wasn't sure he agreed with
+it.  His reaction concerned him because he worried that he wouldn't be
+able to look at the aliens rationally.  In a war situation, the enemy
+was always made out to be subhuman.  In this war situation, the enemy
+was nonhuman, and that might be a problem.  If Cross--and his
+colleagues-couldn't get by their feelings of disgust, couldn't look at
+things rationally, then they might miss something important, something
+that could only be gained through understanding.  Not through fear or
+anger.
 
- Astonished at the interruption, they looked up at Simon's serious face.
+But Cross wouldn't, and couldn't, put away the desire to pay those
+creatures back somehow.
 
- "As if," said Simon, "the beastie, the beastie or the snake-thing, was real. Remember?"
+Someway.
 
- The two older boys flinched when they heard the shameful syllable. Snakes were not mentioned now, were not mentionable.
+The copter set down on the white patch, and Cross got out.  The black
+dust whipped around him as the copter blades slowed.  His skin crawled,
+just like it had before, only this
 
- "As if this wasn't a good island," said Ralph slowly. "Yes, that's right."
+time, he ignored it.  He stepped out from under the blades, and into
+the truck that was parked alongside the spot.
 
- Jack sat up and stretched out his legs.
+Jamison was at the wheel, looking jaunty.  "We have loot," he said.
 
- "They're batty."
+"Let's hope it's the right kind," Cross said.
 
- "Crackers. Remember when we went exploring?" They grinned at each other, remembering the glamour of the first day. Ralph went on.
+Jamison backed the truck up and drove down the narrow path that led out
+of the destruction.  "We found it in the remains of a restaurant, of
+all things."
 
- "So we need shelters as a sort of--"
+"A restaurant?"  Cross asked; "How'd you know?"
 
- "Home."
+"The industrial-sized stove, refrigerator, and dishwasher were largely
+intact, along with some steel tables.  The nano harvesters got blown
+underneath the door of the freezer somehow."
 
- "That's right."
+"If they were inside something, how'd you find them?"  Cross asked.
 
- Jack drew up his legs, clasped his knees, and frowned in an effort to attain clarity.
+"I opened the door.  I wanted to see if the food inside had gotten
+destroyed."
 
- "All the same--in the forest. I mean when you're hunting, not when you're getting fruit, of course, but when you're on your own--"
+"It had, I take it," Cross said.
 
- He paused for a moment, not sure if Ralph would take him seriously.
+Jamison shook his head.  "Apparently those nanoharvesters eat on the
+way down.  They don't have independent propulsion.  They somehow got
+through the door.  Maybe it was left open when they were dropped and
+got shoved closed by something falling before they were picked up.  Who
+knows.  But they were trapped in there.  Some of the food they had
+missed, and it smelled like a son of a bitch."
 
- "Go on."
+Cross didn't have to be in that freezer to know what it smelled like.
+He was glad he hadn't been there after all.  "Good work," he said.
 
- "If you're hunting sometimes you catch yourself feeling as if--" He flushed suddenly. "There's nothing in it of course. Just a feeling. But you can feel as if you're not hunting, but--being hunted, as if something's behind you all the time in the jungle."
+"You've been saying that, but let's wait until you examine those
+things."  Jamison bumped the truck over a curb and onto a real road.
+Suddenly buildings surrounded them.  It felt as if they had sprouted
+suddenly, when of course they hadn't.  But Cross hadn't been looking at
+the road--purposely.  He hadn't wanted to see the black dust, the
+twisted metal, lining the
 
- They were silent again: Simon intent, Ralph incredulous and faintly indignant. He sat up, rubbing one shoulder with a dirty hand.
+sides.  So it was out of the corner of his eye that the buildings
+suddenly appeared.
 
- "Well, I don't know."
+Jamison took the truck on a road Cross hadn't been on.  They parked in
+front of what had once been an insurance office.  Jamison had gotten
+permission to set up camp here before Cross had left the first time,
+but this was the first time Cross had been in the building.
 
- Jack leapt to his feet and spoke very quickly.
+It was a single story with tacky plastic desks from the early '90s. The
+door's window even had the business's name painted in gold.
 
- "That's how you can feel in the forest. Of course there's nothing in it. Only--only--"
+Jamison unlocked the door and went inside.  His computer setup was in
+the back office, the one that had probably belonged to the
+long-vanished insurance agent.  Cross didn't want to think about what
+had happened to that person.
 
- He took a few rapid steps toward the beach, then came back.
+"I suppose you want to see them," Jamison said.
 
- "Only I know how they feel. See? That's all."
+"Yes," Cross said.
 
- "The best thing we can do is get ourselves rescued."
+"Okay."  Jamison sat down at the desk, spun his chair to the right, and
+grabbed two sets of thin rubber gloves.  He handed one set to Cross,
+who put them on, and then slipped the other set on himself.  Then
+Jamison picked up a microscope slide.  It really didn't look as if
+anything was on it, the nanomachines were so small.
 
- Jack had to think for a moment before he could remember what rescue was.
+"These were in the freezer by themselves?"  Cross asked.  "How did you
+even see them?"
 
- "Rescue? Yes, of course! All the same, I'd like to catch a pig first--" He snatched up his spear and dashed it into the ground. The opaque, mad look came into his eyes again. Ralph looked at him critically through his tangle of fair hair.
+"I kept the wand running.  I found a whole pile.  It was like a little
+anthill."
 
- "So long as your hunters remember the fire--"
+Cross took the slide and held it gingerly.  He brought it closer to his
+eye.  He could barely see what looked like dirt flecks that sometimes
+got on his sunglasses.  Smaller by far than the period at the end of a
+sentence, these nanoharvesters seemed completely harmless.
 
- "You and your fire!"
+He still found it amazing that something that small could do so very
+much damage.
 
- The two boys trotted down the beach, and, turning at the water's edge, looked back at the pink mountain. The trickle of smoke sketched a chalky line up the solid blue of the sky, wavered high up and faded. Ralph frowned.
+"Okay," he said, handing the slide back to Jamison.  "Let's see these
+vicious machines up close and personal."
 
- "I wonder how far off you could see that."
+"I thought you'd never ask."  Jamison put the slide into the
+microscope built into the side of his computer.  An enlargement of a
+section of the slide, a thousand times bigger than could be seen by the
+naked eye, appeared on the screen.
 
- "Miles."
+The nanomachines were gray and oblong, with ten slashes along their
+upper surface.  Viewed this way, they looked like carved rocks or the
+badly designed New Age jewelry of his youth.
 
- "We don't make enough smoke."
+Except for their color and their three-dimensional appearance, they
+looked just like the fossils that Edwin Bradshaw had found embedded
+into a bit of rock decades ago.
 
- The bottom part of the trickle, as though conscious of their gaze, thickened to a creamy blur which crept up the feeble column.
+"That's them, all right," Cross said.
 
- "They've put on green branches," muttered Ralph. "I wonder!" He screwed up his eyes and swung round to search the horizon.
+"I figured," Jamison said, "when I brought them back here and gave them
+a quick look-see.  Our nanotechnology is becoming pretty sophisticated,
+but it's nothing like these little creatures here."
 
- "Got it!"
+"What can you tell me about them?"  Cross asked.
 
- Jack shouted so loudly that Ralph jumped.
+"Not much," Jamison said.  "Analyzing other people's technology is not
+my strong suit.  That's why you have Portia."
 
- "What? Where? Is it a ship?"
+"She's in South America with Bradshaw," Cross said.
 
- But Jack was pointing to the high declivities that led down from the mountain to the flatter part of the island.
+"I think it's time she comes home," Jamison said.
 
- "Of course! They'll lie up there--they must, when the sun's too hot--"
+"I think you're right."  Cross tapped his wrist'puter and had it dial
+out for Bradshaw.  Jamison continued to stare at the nanomachines.
 
- Ralph gazed bewildered at his rapt face.
+So did Cross.
 
- "--they get up high. High up and in the shade, resting during the heat, like cows at home--"
+They were creepy in their own way, a completely different way than the
+aliens themselves were.  The nanomachines didn't move.  They seemed
+inanimate.  Something that small, Cross thought, should be moving, like
+viruses in a drop of blood.  But these things just rested on the glass
+surface, waiting for something to activate them.
 
- "I thought you saw a ship!"
+"Will they eat us if we touch them?"  Cross asked.
 
- "We could steal up on one--paint our faces so they wouldn't see--perhaps surround them and then--"
+"I don't want to find out," Jamison said.  "We've been using strict
+contamination procedures whenever we work with
 
- Indignation took away Ralph's control.
+these things.  I don't even know if this group has chewed its quota or
+hasn't even begun its work.  That's for Portia."  "What is?"  a tinny
+voice said.  Cross glanced at his wrist.  He had an audio connection
+with Bradshaw.
 
- "I was talking about smoke! Don't you want to be rescued? All you can talk about is pig, pig, pig!"
+"We hit the jackpot, Edwin," Cross said.
 
- "But we want meat!"
+"Jackpot?"  Bradshaw sounded confused.
 
- "And I work all day with nothing but Simon and you come back and don't even notice the huts!"
+"We've found an entire stack of our little friends," Cross said.  "Have
+you had similar luck?"
 
- "I was working too--"
+"No," Bradshaw said.  "Although I keep thinking we should."
 
- "But you like it!" shouted Ralph. "You want to hunt! While I--"
+"Well, worry about it no longer," Cross said.  "Pack up the equipment
+and come home.  Bring Portia.  Tell her I'll bring her some new toys to
+Nan Tech tomorrow."
 
- They faced each other on the bright beach, astonished at the rub of feeling. Ralph looked away first, pretending interest in a group of littluns on the sand. From beyond the platform came the shouting of the hunters in the swimming pool. On the end of the platform, Piggy was lying flat, looking down into the brilliant water.
+"Tomorrow?"  Bradshaw said.
 
- "People don't help much."
+"We've only got a few months," Cross said.  "We can't afford to waste
+any time at all."
 
- He wanted to explain how people were never quite what you thought they were.
+Cross heard mumbling in the background, then Bradshaw said, "Portia
+wants to know if you can download any of this to us now?"
 
- "Simon. He helps." He pointed at the shelters.
+"Is this a secure line?"  Cross asked Jamison.
 
- "All the rest rushed off. He's done as much as I have. Only--"
+He shook his head.  "We'd have to go to the Army for that."
 
- "Simon's always about."
+"Sorry," Cross said to Bradshaw.  "No can do.  Just go back to D.C.
+I'll meet you both there tomorrow."
 
- Ralph stared back to the shelters with Jack by his side.
+"Got it," Bradshaw said.  "And Leo, cong rats
 
- "Do a bit for you," muttered Jack, "before I have a bathe."
+"Thanks," Cross said.  "But the cong rats go to Jamison.  It's a good
+first step."
 
- "Don't bother."
+Jamison smiled slightly as Cross severed the connection.  "When I found
+these things I got completely overwhelmed."  He swept his hand toward
+them.  "They're so alien."
 
- But when they reached the shelters Simon was not to be seen. Ralph put his head in the hole, withdrew it, and turned to Jack.
+"Funny," Cross said.  "I thought they seemed eerily familiar."
 
- "He's buzzed off."
+Jamison shook his head.  "Not to me.  They're so unlike our
+nanomachines.  It's as if they're based on a different thought
+process."
 
- "Got fed up," said Jack, "and gone for a bathe."
+Cross stared at the gray shapes on the screen.  They weren't much
+different than he had expected.
 
- Ralph frowned.
+"It's kind of like what we'd get if a dolphin invented a vehicle,"
+Jamison said.
 
- "He's queer. He's funny."
+"Why would a dolphin do that?"
 
- Jack nodded, as much for the sake of agreeing as anything, and by tacit consent they left the shelter and went toward the bathing pool.
+"Rapid propulsion," Jamison said.
 
- "And then," said Jack, "when I've had a bathe and something to eat, I'll just trek over to the other side of the mountain and see if I can see any traces. Coming?"
+"That's a hell of an assumption," Cross said.
 
- "But the sun's nearly set!"
+"But make it for a moment," Jamison said.  "They'd start from the idea
+that the car would have to move quickly in water."
 
- "I might have time---"
+"It wouldn't be a car, then," Cross said.  "It would be a submarine."
 
- They walked along, two continents of experience and feeling, unable to communicate.
+"Not for them," Jamison said.  "They can already be underwater for long
+periods of time.  It's as if these creatures had a similar principle in
+mind--something small that works quickly--but began from a different
+technology.  The result is familiar enough that we can understand it,
+but not so familiar that we can make it work on the first try."
 
- "If I could only get a pig!"
+"Got it," Cross said.  Jamison's analogy was faulty, but Cross
+understood.  It was like finding bits of pottery or ancient tools in a
+dig.  Sometimes, if the culture was an unfamiliar one, the
+archaeologist could only hypothesize what the particular tool was used
+for.
 
- "I'll come back and go on with the shelter."
+Only here, they didn't have to hypothesize.  They knew.  They just
+didn't know how the thing worked.
 
- They looked at each other, baffled, in love and hate. All the warm salt water of the bathing pool and the shouting and splashing and laughing were only just sufficient to bring them together again.
+Which reminded him.  He had one more phone call to make.  "Can I link
+into your system?"  Cross asked.  "I have one more call."
 
- 
+"Just use it," Jamison said.  He removed the nanoharvesters from the
+computer, and deleted the image.  The video link system showed on the
+screen.  Cross dialed, and the numbers were blacked out.  Efficient.
 
- Simon was not in the bathing pool as they had expected.
+He got through to the Pentagon in one try.  Apparently it was easy when
+you had the right numbers.  The face that filled his screen belonged to
+Clarissa Maddox's aide, Paul Ward.
 
- When the other two had trotted down the beach to look back at the mountain he had followed them for a few yards and then stopped. He had stood frowing down at a pile of sand on the beach where somebody had been trying to build a little house or hut. Then he turned his back on this and walked into the forest with an air of purpose. He was a small, skinny boy, his chin pointed, and his eyes so bright they had deceived Ralph into thinking him delightfully gay and wicked. The coarse mop of black hair was long and swung down, almost concealing a low, broad forehead. He wore the remains of shorts and his feet were bare like Jack's. Always darkish in color, Simon was burned by the sun to a deep tan that glistened with sweat.
+"Leo Cross for General Maddox.""She's in conference," Ward said.
 
- He picked his way up the scar, passed the great rock where Ralph had climbed on the first morning, then turned off to his right among the trees. He walked with an accustomed tread through the acres of fruit trees, where the least energetic could find an easy if unsatisfying meal. Flower and fruit grew together on the same tree and everywhere was the scent of ripeness and the booming of a million bees at pasture. Here the littluns who had run after him caught up with him. They talked, cried out unintelligibly, lugged him toward the trees. Then, amid the roar of bees in the afternoon sunlight, Simon found for them the fruit they could not reach, pulled off the choicest from up in the foliage, passed them back down to the endless, outstretched hands. When he had satisfied them he paused and looked round. The littluns watched him inscrutably over double handfuls of ripe fruit.
+"It'll only take a minute," Cross said.  "This shouldn't wait."
 
- Simon turned away from them and went where the just perceptible path led him. Soon high jungle closed in. Tall trunks bore unexpected pale flowers all the way up to the dark canopy where life went on clamorously. The air here was dark too, and the creepers dropped their ropes like the rigging of foundered ships. His feet left prints in the soft soil and the creepers shivered throughout their lengths when he bumped them.
+Ward didn't even ask him to hold.  Instead, the screen went black, and
+then the United States Government seal filled the blankness.
 
- He came at last to a place where more sunshine fell. Since they had not so far to go for light the creepers had woven a great mat that hung at the side of an open space in the jungle; for here a patch of rock came close to the surface and would not allow more than little plants and ferns to grow. The whole space was walled with dark aromatic bushes, and was a bowl of heat and light. A great tree, fallen across one corner, leaned against the trees that still stood and a rapid climber flaunted red and yellow sprays right to the top.
+"What?"  Jamison asked.  "No music?"
 
- Simon paused. He looked over his shoulder as Jack had done at the close ways behind him and glanced swiftly round to confirm that he was utterly alone. For a moment his movements were almost furtive. Then he bent down and wormed his way into the center of the mat. The creepers and the bushes were so close that he left his sweat on them and they pulled together behind him. When he was secure in the middle he was in a little cabin screened off from the open space by a few leaves. He squatted down, parted the leaves and looked out into the clearing. Nothing moved but a pair of gaudy butterflies that danced round each other in the hot air. Holding his breath he cocked a critical ear at the sounds of the island. Evening was advancing toward the island; the sounds of the bright fantastic birds, the bee-sounds, even the crying of the gulls that were returning to their roosts among the square rocks, were fainter. The deep sea breaking miles away on the reef made an undertone less perceptible than the susurration of the blood.
+"Your tax dollars at work," Cross said.
 
- Simon dropped the screen of leaves back into place. The slope of the bars of honey-colored sunlight decreased; they slid up the bushes, passed over the green candle-like buds, moved up toward the canopy, and darkness thickened under the trees. With the fading of the light the riotous colors died and the heat and urgency cooled away. The candlebuds stirred. Their green sepals drew back a little and the white tips of the flowers rose delicately to meet the open air.
+"Do you want me to leave?"
 
- Now the sunlight had lifted clear of the open space and withdrawn from the sky. Darkness poured out, submerging the ways between the trees till they were dim and strange as the bottom of the sea. The candle-buds opened their wide white flowers glimmering under the light that pricked down from the first stars. Their scent spilled out into the air and took possession of the island.
+"It's not necessary."
 
- 
+Then the screen blanked again for a moment before Clarissa Maddox's
+face appeared.  She looked tired.
 
- 
+"Dr.  Cross.  I trust you have good news."
 
- CHAPTER FOUR Painted Faces and Long Hair
+"Excellent news, actually, General."  He leaned toward the computer.
+"I'm in California.  We found what we were looking for."
 
- 
+To his surprise, she smiled.  It was a warm and joyful smile that made
+her look years younger.  "You don't know how I've needed to hear
+something good, Doctor.  This is wonderful news, and it'll be very
+helpful in our efforts."
 
- The first rhythm that they became used to was the slow swing from dawn to quick dusk. They accepted the pleasures of morning, the bright sun, the whelming sea and sweet air, as a time when play was good and life so full that hope was not necessary and therefore forgotten. Towardnoon , as the floods of light fell more nearly to the perpendicular, the stark colors of the morning were smoothed in pearl and opalescence; and the heat--as though the impending sun's height gave it momentum--became a blow that they ducked, running to the shade and lying there, perhaps even sleeping.
+"I know," Cross said.
 
- Strange things happened atmidday . The glittering sea rose up, moved apart in planes of blatant impossibility; the coral reef and the few stunted palms that clung to the more elevated parts would float up into the sky, would quiver, be plucked apart, run like raindrops on a wire or be repeated as in an odd succession of mirrors. Sometimes land loomed where there was no land and flicked out like a bubble as the children watched. Piggy discounted all this learnedly as a "mirage"; and since no boy could reach even the reef over the stretch of water where the snapping sharks waited, they grew accustomed to these mysteries and ignored them, just as they ignored the miraculous, throbbing stars. Atmidday the illusions merged into the sky and there the sun gazed down like an angry eye. Then, at the end of the afternoon; the mirage subsided and the horizon became level and blue and clipped as the sun declined. That was another time of comparative coolness but menaced by the coming of the dark. When the sun sank, darkness dropped on the island like an extinguisher and soon the shelters were full of restlessness, under the remote stars.
+"All right.  I will order the Commander on-site to have you and the
+items flown back to Dulles.  Then you bring all of the items directly
+to the Army lab.  Is that clear?"
 
- Nevertheless, the northern European tradition of work, play, and food right through the day, made it possible for them to adjust themselves wholly to this new rhythm. The littlun Percival had early crawled into a shelter and stayed there for two days, talking, singing, and crying, till they thought him batty and were faintly amused. Ever since then he had been peaked, red-eyed, and miserable; a littiun who played little and cried often.
+"General, I thought that Nan Tech would help with some of this.  After
+all, they're on top of the current research."
 
- The smaller boys were known now by the generic title of "littluns." The decrease in size, from Ralph down, was gradual; and though there was a dubious region inhabited by Simon and Robert and Maurice, nevertheless no one had any difficulty in recognizing biguns at one end and littluns at the other. The undoubted littluns, those aged about six, led a quite distinct, and at the same time intense, life of their own. They ate most of the day, picking fruit where they could reach it and not particular about ripeness and quality. They were used now to stomach-aches and a sort of chronic diarrhoea. They suffered untold terrors in the dark and huddled together for comfort. Apart from food and sleep, they found time for play, aimless and trivial, in the white sand by the bright water. They cried for their mothers much less often than might have been expected; they were very brown, and filthily dirty. They obeyed the summons of the conch, partly because Ralph blew it, and he was big enough to be a link with the adult world of authority; and partly because they enjoyed the entertainment of the assemblies. But otherwise they seldom bothered with the biguns and their passionately emotional and corporate life was their own.
+"It's a military problem now, Doctor.  If our scientists need outside
+experts, I'm sure they'll bring them in."  The smile had faded from her
+face.  "You're not going to give me another argument, are you, Leo?"
 
- They had built castles in the sand at the bar of the little river. These castles were about one foot high and were decorated with shells, withered flowers, and interesting stones. Round the castles was a complex of marks, tracks, walls, railway lines, that were of significance only if inspected with the eye at beach-level. The littluns played here, if not happily at least with absorbed attention; and often as many as three of them would play the same game together.
+He made himself smile, even though he didn't feel like it.  He felt as
+if he'd been run over with a tank the last few times he'd talked to
+Maddox.  "Of course not, General.  I see your point."
 
- Three were playing here now. Henry was the biggest of them. He was also a distant relative of that other boy whose mulberry-marked face had not been seen since the evening of the great fire; but he was not old enough to understand this, and if he had been told that the other boy had gone home in an aircraft, he would have accepted the statement without fuss or disbelief.
+Her face softened.  "Good.  I look forward to seeing those little
+beasties."  She reached for the off button and then she paused.  "Tell
+your team that it has done spectacular work."
 
- Henry was a bit of a leader this afternoon, because the other two were Percival and Johnny, the smallest boys on the island. Percival was mouse-colored and had not been very attractive even to his mother; Johnny was well built, with fair hair and a natural belligerence. Just now he was being obedient because he was interested; and the three children, kneeling in the sand, were at peace.
+And her image vanished.
 
- Roger and Maurice came out of the forest. They were relieved from duty at the fire and had come down for a swim. Roger led the way straight through the castles, kicking them over, burying the flowers, scattering the chosen stones. Maurice followed, laughing, and added to the destruction. The three littluns paused in their game and looked up. As it happened, the particular marks in which they were interested had not been touched, so they made no protest. Only Percival began to whimper with an eyeful of sand and Maurice hurried away. In his other life Maurice had received chastisement for filling a younger eye with sand. Now, though there was no parent to let fall a heavy hand, Maurice still felt the unease of wrongdoing. At the back of his mind formed the uncertain outlines of an excuse. He muttered something about a swim and broke into a trot.
+"Spectacular work," Cross said dryly.
 
- Roger remained, watching the littluns. He was not noticeably darker than when he had dropped in, but the shock of black hair, down his nape and low on his forehead, seemed to suit his gloomy face and made what had seemed at first an unsociable remoteness into something forbidding. Percival finished his whimper and went on playing, for the tears had washed the sand away. Johnny watched him with china-blue eyes; then began to fling up sand in a shower, and presently Percival was crying again.
+"I heard," Jamison said.  "What a tight ass
 
- When Henry tired of his play and wandered off along the beach, Roger followed him, keeping beneath the palms and drifting casually in the same direction. Henry walked at a distance from the palms and the shade because he was too young to keep himself out of the sun. He went down the beach and busied himself at the water's edge. The great Pacific tide was coming in and every few seconds the relatively still water of the lagoon heaved forwards an inch. There were creatures that lived in this last fling of the sea, tiny transparencies that came questing in with the water over the hot, dry sand. With impalpable organs of sense they examined this new field. Perhaps food had appeared where at the last incursion there had been none; bird droppings, insects perhaps, any of the strewn detritus of landward life. Like a myriad of tiny teeth in a saw, the transparencies came scavenging over the beach.
+Cross shook his head.  "She's getting pressure from all sides.  The
+only victory we had in that conflict came from her quick thinking. 
+She's just doing her job."
 
- This was fascinating to Henry. He poked about with a bit of stick, that itself was wave-worn and whitened and a vagrant, and tried to control the motions of the scavengers. He made little runnels that the tide filled and tried to crowd them with creatures. He became absorbed beyond mere happiness as he felt himself exercising control over living things. He talked to them, urging them, ordering them. Driven back by the tide, his footprints became bays in which they were trapped and gave him the illusion of mastery. He squatted on his hams at the water's edge, bowed, with a shock of hair falling over his forehead and past his eyes, and the afternoon sun emptied down invisible arrows.
+"And now she expects you to give this to government scientists?  No
+offense, Leo, but we turned down a number of their nanotech guys when
+they applied at Nan Tech  The government is very behind in this area. I
+can only think that the Army's guys are even farther behind."
 
- Roger waited too. At first he had hidden behind a great palm; but Henry's absorption with the transparencies was so obvious that at last he stood out in full view. He looked along the beach. Percival had gone off, crying, and Johnny was left in triumphant possession of the castles, He sat there, crooning to himself and throwing sand at an imaginary Percival. Beyond him, Roger could see the platform and the glints of spray where Ralph and Simon and Piggy and Maurice were diving in the pool. He listened carefully but could only just hear them.
+"I know," Cross said.  "I'm not a member of the U.S. military."
 
- A sudden breeze shook the fringe of palm trees, so that the fronds tossed and fluttered. Sixty feet above Roger, several nuts, fibrous lumps as big as rugby balls, were loosed from their stems. They fell about him with a series of hard thumps and he was not touched. Roger did not consider his escape, but looked from the nuts to Henry and back again.
+"Which means what?"  Jamison asked.
 
- The subsoil beneath the palm trees was a raised beach, and generations of palms had worked loose in this the stones that had lain on the sands of another shore. Roger stooped, picked up a stone, aimed, and threw it at Henry-- threw it to miss. The stone, that token of preposterous time, bounced five yards to Henry's right and fell in the water. Roger gathered a handful of stones and began to throw them. Yet there was a space round Henry, perhaps six yards in diameter, into which he dare not throw. Here, invisible yet strong, was the taboo of the old life. Round the squatting child was the protection of parents and school and policemen and the law. Roger's arm was conditioned by a civilization that knew nothing of him and was in ruins.
+"I'm going to look the other way as you divide these 'beasties," as the
+general calls them, in thirds."
 
- Henry was surprised by the plopping sounds in the water. He abandoned the noiseless transparencies and pointed at the center of the spreading rings like a setter. This side and that the stones fell, and Henry turned obediently but always too late to see the stones in the air. At last he saw one and laughed, looking for the friend who was teasing him. But Roger had whipped behind the palm again, was leaning against it breathing quickly, his eyelids fluttering. Then Henry lost interest in stones and wandered off.
+"Thirds?"
 
- "Roger."
+"You're taking a large pile to Nan Tech and I'm taking a small pile to
+the Army."
 
- Jack was standing under a tree about ten yards away. When Roger opened his eyes and saw him, a darker shadow crept beneath the swarthiness of his skin; but Jack noticed nothing. He was eager, impatient, beckoning, so that Roger went to him.
+"And the third pile?"
 
- There was a small pool at the end of the river, dammed back by sand and full of white water-lilies and needle-like reeds. Here Sam and Eric were waiting, and Bill. Jack, concealed from the sun, knelt by the pool and opened the two large leaves that he carried. One of them contained white clay, and the other red. By them lay a stick of charcoal brought down from the fire.
+"I think Edwin and I deserve just a few, too, don't you?"
 
- Jack explained to Roger as he worked.
+"You guys aren't that familiar with nanotechnology," Jamison said.
 
- "They don't smell me. They see me, I think. Something pink, under the trees."
+"Nope, but we know fossils.  And we might see something in the old ones
+that is missing from the new or vice versa.  It might be something you
+guys miss."
 
- He smeared on the clay.
+Jamison grinned.  "I like how you think, Dr.  Cross."
 
- "If only I'd some green!"
+Cross stood.  "I'm glad someone does."
 
- He turned a half-concealed face up to Roger and answered the incomprehension of his gaze.
+April 29, 2018
 
- "For hunting. Like in the war. You know--dazzle paint. Like things trying to look like something else--" He twisted in the urgency of telling. "--Like moths on a tree trunk."
+6:09 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- Roger understood and nodded gravely. The twins moved toward Jack and began to protest timidly about something. Jack waved them away.
+168 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Shut up."
+Britt Archer hadn't put on a slinky dress in half a year.  She'd spent
+all of her time at the office or at Cross's house.  Her cats barely
+knew her any longer.  Poor babies.  They didn't know why she was so
+frazzled, and she was glad she couldn't explain it to them.  They, at
+least, weren't panicked, like the rest of the world.
 
- He rubbed the charcoal stick between the patches of red and white on his face.
+She adjusted the strap on her high heels, clutched her purse, and ran
+her tongue over her teeth, making sure she didn't have any lipstick
+where none should be.  A long time since she got dressed up, and Cross
+wasn't even in town to see it.  He had called as she was leaving her
+apartment.  He would be back by morning.
 
- "No. You two come with me."
+She didn't tell him how much she missed him.  She had decided, in the
+middle of the bombing, that while personal feelings were nice and good,
+they didn't help wage a war.
 
- He peered at his reflection and disliked it. He bent down, took up a double handful of lukewarm water and rubbed the mess from his face. Freckles and sandy eyebrows appeared.
+And that's what they were in now.  A war.  With an enemy no one
+understood.
 
- Roger smiled, unwillingly.
+She shuddered, and got out of her car.  The valet had been waiting for
+her to do just that.  He looked about twenty-one, athletic, and
+impatient with everything.  If he were living in Europe right now, he'd
+be in the military.  The U.S. was delaying the draft for just a few
+more weeks while it put training programs in place.  Maddox had said
+she wanted some of the new recruits to go into astronaut training,
+others into science work.
 
- "You don't half look a mess."
+In a month, this kid wouldn't be parking cars.  No one would.
 
- Jack planned his new face. He made one cheek and one eye-socket white, then he rubbed red over the other half of his face and slashed a black bar of charcoal across from right ear to left jaw. He looked in the pool for his reflection, but his breathing troubled the mirror.
+But Archer couldn't tell him that.  Instead, she handed him her keys
+and stepped onto the red carpet someone had laid over the concrete
+sidewalk.  It led under a matching red awning with the restaurant's
+name emblazoned in gold.  Another young man held open the oak door for
+her, revealing a coat check area and stairs leading up to the main
+dining room.
 
- "Samneric. Get me a coconut. An empty one."
+She felt awkward being in a place like this, and somewhat amazed that
+fancy restaurants were open and doing business.  But why wouldn't they?
+Fancy restaurants were the mainstay of Washington society.  They
+wouldn't shut down unless the entire country were under continual
+bombardment.
 
- He knelt, holding the shell of water. A rounded patch of sunlight fell on his face and a brightness appeared in the depths of the water. He looked in astonishment, no longer at himself but at an awesome stranger. He spilt the water and leapt to his feet, laughing excitedly. Beside the pool his sinewy body held up a mask that drew their eyes and appalled them. He began to dance and his laughter became a bloodthirsty snarling. He capered toward Bill, and the mask was a thing on its own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-consciousness. The face of red and white and black swung through the air and jigged toward Bill. Bill started up laughing; then suddenly he fell silent and blundered away through the bushes.
+Which it just might be in a few months.
 
- Jack rushed toward the twins.
+She shuddered, removed her shawl, and handed it to the young woman
+behind the counter.  Then Archer walked up the stairs, careful to hold
+the railing so that she wouldn't trip in her stylishly uncomfortable
+shoes.
 
- "The rest are making a line. Come on!"
+The maitre d's station was at the top of the stairs.  A dapper man in
+his mid forties fussed behind an oak podium.  When he saw her, he
+raised a single eyebrow as if inquiring what had possessed a woman like
+her to come into a restaurant like this.
 
- "But--"
+"I'm here to meet General Maddox," Archer said.
 
- "--we--"
+The maitre d's face eased into a wide smile.  "Ah, the general.  We
+don't see enough of her these days."  He made it sound as if it were
+Maddox's fault for failing to patronize the restaurant in times of
+crisis.  "Follow me, please."
 
- "Come on! I'll creep up and stab--"
+He grabbed a menu swathed in leather, and a smaller book that had to be
+the wine list.  Archer wondered if she was the first to arrive.  When
+they reached the table in the very center of the room, she realized she
+wasn't.
 
- The mask compelled them.
+Jesse Killius sat there, looking awkward, her chewed fingernails
+tapping on the wine list.  She looked as uncomfortable in her black
+silk dress and pearls as Archer felt.  When Killius saw Archer, she
+smiled in what seemed like relief.
 
- 
+"I was beginning to feel like my date stood me up in front of the
+entire school," she said.
 
- Ralph climbed out of the bathing pool and trotted up the beach and sat in the shade beneath the palms. His fair hair was plastered over his eyebrows and he pushed it back. Simon was floating in the water and kicking with his feet, and Maurice was practicing diving. Piggy was mooning about, aimlessly picking up things and discarding them. The rock-pools which so fascinated him were covered by the tide, so he was without an interest until the tide went back. Presently, seeing Ralph under the palms, he came and sat by him.
+Archer laughed and sat down.  With a flourish, the maitre d'handed her
+the menu, and then disappeared before Archer could ask for a drink.
 
- Piggy wore the remainders of a pair of shorts, his fat body was golden brown, and the glasses still flashed when he looked at anything. He was the only boy on the island whose hair never seemed to grow. The rest were shockheaded, but Piggy's hair still lay in wisps over his head as though baldness were his natural state and this imperfect covering would soon go, like the velvet on a young stag's antlers.
+The restaurant was full, and Archer recognized a number of Washington
+power brokers as well as a few journalists scattered among the tables.
+Everything was done in heavy oak and linen, very traditional, very
+old-fashioned.
 
- "I've been thinking," he said, "about a clock. We could make a sundial. We could put a stick in the sand, and then--"
+"Would madam like a drink?"  a voice asked at her elbow.
 
- The effort to express the mathematical processes involved was too great. He made a few passes instead.
+Madam would like the whole damn bottle, Archer was tempted to say, but
+didn't.  Instead, she said, "Yes, please.  A glass of Chardonnay."
 
- "And an airplane, and a TV set," said Ralph sourly, "and a steam engine."
+She didn't even get to see the voice's owner before he was gone.
 
- Piggy shook his head.
+"After all that's been going on," Killius said, "I would have thought
+you would order something stronger."
 
- "You have to have a lot of metal things for that," he said, "and we haven't got no metal. But we got a stick."
+Archer shook her head.  "For all its trappings, I suspect this is a
+business meeting."
 
- Ralph turned and smiled involuntarily. Piggy was a bore; his fat, his ass-mar and his matter-of-fact ideas were dull, but there was always a little pleasure to be got out of pulling his leg, even if one did it by accident.
+"You don't think we have enough in common with the general to warrant a
+girls' night out?"  Killius asked.
 
- Piggy saw the smile and misinterpreted it as friendliness. There had grown up tacitly among the biguns the opinion that Piggy was an outsider, not only by accent, which did not matter, but by fat, and ass-mar, and specs, and a certain disinclination for manual labor. Now, finding that something he had said made Ralph smile, he rejoiced and pressed his advantage.
+Archer liked Killius's fey sense of humor.  They had spoken on the
+phone a number of times, but never enough for that humor to come out.
+Whenever they were on the phone it was either STScI business or NASA
+business, and they were talking in either scientist or administrator
+shorthand.
 
- "We got a lot of sticks. We could have a sundial each. Then we should know what the time was."
+"I think we probably do," Archer said, "but I don't think we have the
+time to find out."
 
- "A fat lot of good that would be."
+Killius's smile faded and she sighed.  "When I was in college," she
+said, "we had to interview people who had gone through a
+twentieth-century historical moment for a history term paper.  I
+interviewed an old guy who had been a German POW in World War II."
 
- "You said you wanted things done. So as we could be rescued."
+Yet another waiter set down Archer's white wine.  She picked up the
+glass and twirled the stem between her thumb and forefinger.
 
- "Oh, shut up."
+"He had a lot of stories, most of them about the harsh conditions but
+the one thing that stuck with me is that they piled a bunch of sawdust
+into something shaped like a bread loaf and as they ate it, they talked
+about the best meals they had ever had."
 
- He leapt to his feet and trotted back to the pool, just as Maurice did a rather poor dive. Ralph was glad of a chance to change the subject. He shouted as Maurice came to the surface.
+Archer sipped her wine.  It was the best house Chardonnay she had ever
+had.
 
- "Belly flop! Belly flop!"
+"So after that, at times when I was cooking Thanksgiving dinner or when
+I came to a fancy restaurant--" Killius swept her hand toward the door
+"--I would remember what he said and wonder if I would ever be in a
+situation where I would be starving and remembering that meal as one of
+the best meals I ever had."
 
- Maurice flashed a smile at Ralph who slid easily into the water. Of all the boys, he was the most at home there; but today, irked by the mention of rescue, the useless, footling mention of rescue, even the green depths of water and the shattered, golden sun held no balm. Instead of remaining and playing, he swam with steady strokes under Simon and crawled out of the other side of the pool to lie there, sleek and streaming like a seal. Piggy, always clumsy, stood up and came to stand by him, so that Ralph rolled on his stomach and pretended not to see. The mirages had died away and gloomily he ran his eye along the taut blue line of the horizon.
+Archer shuddered.  "I think if something happens to us this time, it'll
+happen so fast we won't have time to think about meals or our lives
+flashing before our eyes.  We'll just be gone."  Killius's gaze slipped
+away from hers.  "Sorry.  I didn't mean to be so glum."  Archer
+shrugged.  "I'm the one who brought it up.  I mean, aren't you a little
+uncomfortable being here, knowing that--"
 
- The next moment he was on his feet and shouting.
+"Ladies."  General Maddox approached the table, leading the maJtre d',
+who now looked like a whipped puppy.  "I'm glad you could make it."
 
- "Smoke! Smoke!"
+If she hadn't spoken first, Archer wouldn't have recognized her. Maddox
+was dressed up, too, in a slinky blue dress, with a sassy set of
+sapphire earrings, and a matching sapphire bracelet that accented her
+strong arms.  She wore her hair up and her makeup light, but she looked
+nothing like the tough general who had been running the Tenth Planet
+Project meetings all these months.
 
- Simon tried to sit up in the water and got a mouthful. Maurice, who had been standing ready to dive, swayed back on his heels, made a bolt for the platform, then swerved back to the grass under the palms. There he started to pull on his tattered shorts, to be ready for anything.
+She let the maitre d' pull out her chair, then sat, and nodded when he
+asked her if she wanted her usual.  He was gone before anyone else had
+a chance to say a word.
 
- Ralph stood, one hand holding back his hair, the other clenched. Simon was climbing out of the water. Piggy was rubbing his glasses on his shorts and squinting at the sea. Maurice had got both legs through one leg of his shorts. Of all the boys, only Ralph was still.
+"This is some place," Killius said.
 
- "I can't see no smoke," said Piggy incredulously. "I can't see no smoke, Ralph--where is it?"
+Maddox smiled.  She was a beautiful woman in a nonconventional way.
+Archer had never seen that before.  "I've always liked it," she said.
 
- Ralph said nothing. Now both his hands were clenched over his forehead so that the fair hair was kept out of his eyes. He was leaning forward and already the salt was whitening his body.
+"They seem to know you here," Archer said.
 
- "Ralph--where's the ship?"
+Maddox shrugged.  "I've learned that sometimes having a conversation
+over a relaxing meal is a lot better than a meeting in a stuffy office,
+especially in the evening."  She picked up her menu.  "The crab cakes
+are always good here."
 
- Simon stood by, looking from Ralph to the horizon. Maurice's trousers gave way with a sigh and he abandoned them as a wreck, rushed toward the forest, and then came back again.
+They looked at the menus as yet a third waiter brought Maddox a gin and
+tonic.  A fourth waiter described the specials, and Maddox assured all
+of them that this would be on the government's tab.
 
- The smoke was a tight little knot on the horizon and was uncoiling slowly. Beneath the smoke was a dot that might be a funnel. Ralph's face was pale as he spoke to himself.
+Archer ordered a filet mignon, medium rare, and felt slightly guilty at
+the expense.  Killius ordered lobster and smiled in obvious
+anticipation.  Maddox ordered the roast duck special.
 
- "They'll see our smoke."
+Then the waiter took their menus and wine list, and disappeared.  The
+conversation around them was a low hum.
 
- Piggy was looking in the right direction now.
+Archer decided she'd begin.  "You called this a meeting?"
 
- "It don't look much."
+"I called this a conversation," Maddox said.  "But you can call it a
+meeting."
 
- He turned round and peered up at the mountain. Ralph continued to watch the ship, ravenously. Color was coming back into his face. Simon stood by him, silent.
+"Just us, not the Project?"
 
- "I know I can't see very much," said Piggy, "but have we got any smoke?"
+Maddox sighed, but she didn't look irritated.  She took a sip of her
+drink.  "I'm coordinating a lot of things right now," she said.  "My
+biggest concern is that the aliens are an unknown.  We can make
+assumptions about them based on very little evidence.  And we only have
+a short time to gather more evidence.  I know that Cross is right.
+They're not done with us yet."
 
- Ralph moved impatiently, still watching the ship.
+"All we have are the bodies," Killius said.
 
- "The smoke on the mountain."
+Maddox shook her head.  "The bodies, the ships, and the historical
+record.  I've been thinking about that first presentation of Cross's.
+Do you remember?"
 
- Maurice came running, and stared out to sea. Both Simon and Piggy were looking up at the mountain. Piggy screwed up his face but Simon cried out as though he had hurt himself.
+Archer did.  She'd seen it more than once as Leo was drumming up
+support for the Project.  In it, he had used the historical
+record--actually the writings of civilizations dead for thousands of
+years--to show that a "black death from the sky" happened at all.  Now
+they'd seen the black death and knew why it came from the sky.
 
- "Ralph! Ralph!"
+"Yes, I remember," Killius said.
 
- The quality of his speech twisted Ralph on the sand.
+"There's bound to be more information in there, if we just know where
+to look."  Maddox sipped her drink as a waiter set down some warm
+bread.  She took a piece and slathered it with butter, then set it on
+her bread plate.  "We also have observation.  Obviously these aliens
+have a civilization.  We should be able to see it."
 
- "You tell me," said Piggy anxiously. "Is there a signal?"
+"With the telescopes?"  Archer said.
 
- Ralph looked back at the dispersing smoke in the horizon, then up at the mountain.
+Maddox nodded.  "They are the best vision we have into deep space.  The
+planet is moving inside Venus's orbit and won't be this close again for
+four months.  We need to get better information about the aliens before
+then."
 
- "Ralph--please! Is there a signal?"
+Archer frowned.  They had had this discussion once before.  Briefly and
+on the phone, but they had had it.  Then Maddox glanced at Killius, and
+Archer realized what was going on.  This meeting wasn't for her.  It
+was for Killius.  Was there a problem at NASA?
 
- Simon put out his hand, timidly, to touch Ralph; but Ralph started to run, splashing through the shallow end of the bathing pool, across the hot, white sand and under the palms. A moment later he was battling with the complex undergrowth that was already engulfing the scar. Simon ran after him, then Maurice. Piggy shouted.
+"I empathize," Archer said.  "But the scopes can't help you, not for
+another three months.  They just aren't powerful enough.  The tenth
+planet doesn't reflect light, and soon it'll disappear behind the sun.
+We have to wait until it's much closer before we attempt to see
+anything on its surface.  But to be honest, I don't think we're going
+to get much more as it comes toward us this time than last time."
 
- "Ralph! Please--Ralph!"
+Maddox sighed and took a bite of the bread.  Killius dug in the bread
+basket until she found a piece of rye.  She pulled it out and buttered
+it lightly.
 
- Then he too started to run, stumbling over Maurice's discarded shorts before he was across the terrace. Behind the four boys, the smoke moved gently along the horizon; and on the beach, Henry and Johnny were throwing sand at Percival who was crying quietly again; and all three were in complete ignorance of the excitement.
+Yet another waiter appeared with their salad course.  As he mixed the
+Caesar salads and queried them about the amount
 
- By the time Ralph had reached the landward end of the scar he was using precious breath to swear. He did desperate violence to his naked body among the rasping creepers so that blood was sliding over him. Just where the steep ascent of the mountain began, he stopped. Maurice was only a few yards behind him.
+of pepper, the women watched him.  When he left, leaving large plates
+of greenery before them, they continued.
 
- "Piggy's specs!" shouted Ralph. "If the fire's all out, we'll need them--"
+"What about probes?"  Maddox asked.
 
- He stopped shouting and swayed on his feet. Piggy was only just visible, bumbling up from the beach. Ralph looked at the horizon, then up to the mountain. Was it better to fetch Piggy's glasses, or would the ship have gone? Or if they climbed on, supposing the fire was all out, and they had to watch Piggy crawling nearer and the ship sinking under the horizon? Balanced on a high peak of need, agonized by indecision, Ralph cried out:
+Killius picked up her salad fork.  She stabbed at her plate.  "We lack
+the funds, General."
 
- "Oh God, oh God!"
+"If funds weren't an issue."
 
- Simon, struggling with the bushes, caught his breath. His face was twisted. Ralph blundered on, savaging himself, as the wisp of smoke moved on.
+Killius raised her head.  A single lock of hair had fallen alongside
+her face.  She was thinner than she had been when Archer had met her, a
+long time ago.  "Not at all?"
 
- The fire was dead. They saw that straight away; saw what they had really known down on the beach when the smoke of home had beckoned. The fire was out, smokeless and dead; the watchers were gone. A pile of unused fuel lay ready.
+Maddox ate her bread and didn't touch her salad.  In fact, she pushed
+the salad plate away.  "Jesse," she said softly.  "We've just suffered
+through the worst attack ever on the continental United States.
+Congress is going to roll over and bark whenever we ask it to.  Money
+is not an issue.  Most of the defense funds that had gone to
+conventional ground weapons are useless in this campaign.  We can now
+turn that toward space.  Toward NASA, if that's the place to go.  If
+it's not, I suppose we can go directly to private industry--there are a
+number of companies that have been launching their own satellites and a
+few probes--but I worry about their commitment to our cause."
 
- Ralph turned to the sea. The horizon stretched, impersonal once more, barren of all but the faintest trace of smoke. Ralph ran stumbling along the rocks, saved himself on the edge of the pink cliff, and screamed at the ship.
+"They should be just as involved as the rest of us," Archer said. She'd
+talked to some of her nonscientific friends.  They were scared.
 
- "Come back! Come back!"
+"Should be.  But I have a healthy mistrust of private industry.  I
+prefer to keep things under government control."
 
- He ran backwards and forwards along the cliff, his face always to the sea, and his voice rose insanely.
+Where she or someone like her could oversee the work, Archer thought.
+The key word in Maddox's last sentence wasn't "government."  It was
+"control."
 
- "Come back! Come back!"
+"We can do probes," Killius said.
 
- Simon and Maurice arrived. Ralph looked at them with unwinking eyes. Simon turned away, smearing the water from his cheeks. Ralph reached inside himself for the worst word he knew.
+"What about a defense system?"
 
- "They let the bloody fire go out."
+Killius frowned.  "A planetary defense system?  That's not something we
+can do alone.  I'm sure the other nations would
 
- He looked down the unfriendly side of the mountain. Piggy arrived, out of breath and whimpering like a littlun. Ralph clenched his fist and went very red. The intentness of his gaze, the bitterness of his voice, pointed for him.
+have something to say about it.  In the '80s, when President Reagan
+suggested the Star Wars system--"
 
- "There they are."
+"I know your institutional memory is long," Maddox said.  "So's mine.
+And Reagan's system, in addition to being forty years out-of-date,
+never got off the ground.  And it wasn't designed to protect us from
+things arriving from outer space.  Instead, it was to protect us from
+things launched into space from other countries.  It's not applicable.
+If we're doing a planetary defense system, the other nations will
+benefit from it."
 
- A procession had appeared, far down among the pink stones that lay near the water's edge. Some of the boys wore black caps but otherwise they were almost naked. They lifted sticks in the air together whenever they came to an easy patch. They were chanting, something to do with the bundle that the errant twins carried so carefully. Ralph picked out Jack easily, even at that distance, tall, red-haired, and inevitably leading the procession.
+"If we present it to them properly," Archer said, finally understanding
+one of the reasons she was here.  Her work at STScI was largely a
+matter of international cooperation and coordination.  "If we give them
+a say-so in much of what we do."
 
- Simon looked now, from Ralph to Jack, as he had looked from Ralph to the horizon, and what he saw seemed to make him afraid. Ralph said nothing more, but waited while the procession came nearer. The chant was audible but at that distance still wordless. Behind Jack walked the twins, carrying a great stake on their shoulders. The gutted carcass of a pig swung from the stake, swinging heavily as the twins toiled over the uneven ground. The pig's head hung down with gaping neck and seemed to search for something on the ground. At last the words of the chant floated up to them, across the bowl of blackened wood and ashes.
+"I'd prefer this to be an American-run project," Maddox said.
 
- "_Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood._"
+"Forgive me, General," Archer said, "but you can have a project that's
+run formally by the Americans, and you'll get a lot of protest.  Or you
+can have one run informally by us, with much of the control situated in
+this country, and you'll get almost no protest at all."
 
- Yet as the words became audible, the procession reached the steepest part of the mountain, and in a minute or two the chant had died away. Piggy sniveled and Simon shushed him quickly as though he had spoken too loudly in church.
+"This has happened with your telescopes?"
 
- Jack, his face smeared with clays, reached the top first and hailed Ralph excitedly, with lifted spear.
+"Yes," Archer said.  "And I'm speaking from experience in times of
+peace.  We're not at peace now.  There should be even more
+cooperation."
 
- "Look! We've killed a pig--we stole up on them--we got in a circle--"
+Killius was studying her salad, working her way methodically through
+all the lettuce and pushing the croutons aside.  She looked like a
+woman who knew she was being double teamed.  Archer wanted to take her
+aside and assure her that it hadn't been set up beforehand, that she
+hadn't agreed to the meal to badger Killius into a position she didn't
+want to be in.
 
- Voices broke in from the hunters.
+The very first waiter, the one who had brought Archer her drink
+appeared and whisked away their salad plates.  He cleaned the crumbs
+off the tablecloth with a little brush and then put large platters down
+before leaving as silently as he had arrived.
 
- "We got in a circle--"
+"So," Maddox said.  "A defense system.  We have ideas, and we've
+already talked to a few of your people.  What we really need from NASA
+isn't a design for the defense system, but your cooperation in using
+manned shuttles to set it up."
 
- "We crept up--"
+"Oh," Killius said.  "We don't become a long arm of the Defense
+Department, then."
 
- "The pig squealed--"
+Archer stiffened, wondering if Maddox would take offense.  But she
+wasn't even looking at Killius.  She was looking at the headwaiter, who
+was carrying a tray of food on three fingertips.  He bowed and placed
+the tray on its little cart.  On top were dishes covered with silver
+warmers.
 
- The twins stood with the pig swinging between them, dropping black gouts on the rock. They seemed to share one wide, ecstatic grin. Jack had too many things to tell Ralph at once. Instead, he danced a step or two, then remembered his dignity and stood still, grinning. He noticed blood on his hands and grimaced distastefully, looked for something on which to clean them, then wiped them on his shorts and laughed.
+"The filet," he said with just a hint of a British accent.  Archer
+wondered why it was that all headwaiters spoke with that same accent,
+that same precision.  Was it taught to them in headwaiter school?
 
- Ralph spoke.
+"Mine," she said.
 
- "You let the fire go out."
+He waved it in front of her, before setting it down and removing the
+cover with a flourish.  Then he repeated the procedure with the lobster
+and the duck.
 
- Jack checked, vaguely irritated by this irrelevance but too happy to let it worry him.
+"Do your meals look satisfactory?"
 
- "We can light the fire again. You should have been with us, Ralph. We had a smashing time. The twins got knocked over--"
+"As good as usual, Claude," Maddox said.  Her tone clearly held
+dismissal.  The headwaiter nodded, grabbed his tray, and left.
 
- "We hit the pig--"
+"The long arm of the Defense Department?"  Maddox said softly.  Archer
+winced.  She had hoped Maddox hadn't heard that.  "You sound as if
+that's a problem, Jesse.  NASA and Defense have always worked together
+closely."
 
- "--I fell on top--"
+"And been separate agencies."
 
- "I cut the pig's throat," said Jack, proudly, and yet twitched as he said it. "Can I borrow yours, Ralph, to make a nick in the hilt?"
+"This is not the time to worry about who's in charge of what," Maddox
+said.  "The lines are probably going to blur mightily before this thing
+is over."
 
- The boys chattered and danced. The twins continued to grin.
+Killius stared at her lobster as if she suddenly didn't know how to
+eat it.
 
- "There was lashings of blood," said Jack, laughing and shuddering, "you should have seen it!"
+"They've already blurred," Archer said.  "Even between countries."
 
- "We'll go hunting every day--"
+The cooperation they had all seen on the Tenth Planet Project wouldn't
+have been possible a year before.
 
- Ralph spoke again, hoarsely. He had not moved.
+"Jesse," Maddox said.  "What's bothering you?"
 
- "You let the fire go out."
+Killius pushed her plate away.  She hadn't touched the lobster. 
+"Change bothers me," she said, her head down.  Then she raised it. 
+"It's not you, General.  It's the new ways of thinking.  I'm a better
+bureaucrat than scientist, I guess, but I'm both, ultimately, and both
+operate by strict rules.  Suddenly I find myself in a world in which
+the old rules no longer apply, not to science, and not to
+bureaucracy."
 
- This repetition made Jack uneasy. He looked at the twins and then back at Ralph.
+"The old rules do apply," Maddox said.  "But it's the old wartime
+rules, not peacetime rules.  None of us worked during the Cold War--in
+fact, we were all children when it ended--but that's the model NASA has
+to look to now.  An enemy so great that we might not be able to destroy
+it, but we have to put our best effort into it.  That attitude got us
+into outer space in the first place."
 
- "We had to have them in the hunt," he said, "or there wouldn't have been enough for a ring."
+"We're not trying to go to space, General," Killius said.
 
- He flushed, conscious of a fault.
+"No."  Maddox spoke softly.  "We're trying to save Earth."
 
- "The fire's only been out an hour or two. We can light up again--"
+Archer let out a small breath.  Her hands were trembling.
 
- He noticed Ralph's scarred nakedness, and the sombre silence of all four of them. He sought, charitable in his happiness, to include them in the thing that had happened. His mind was crowded with memories; memories of the knowledge that had come to them when they closed in on the struggling pig, knowledge that they had outwitted a living thing, imposed their will upon it, taken away its life like a long satisfying drink.
+Killius looked at both of them for a moment.  She was pale beneath her
+makeup.  "Probes, and manned shuttle missions."
 
- He spread his arms wide.
+"Yes," Maddox said.  "That's all we're asking."
 
- "You should have seen the blood!"
+"That's a lot," Killius said.  "We're stretched now."
 
- The hunters were more silent now, but at this they buzzed again. Ralph flung back his hair. One arm pointed at the empty horizon. His voice was loud and savage, and struck them into silence.
+"I'm trying to change that," Maddox started, but Killius raised a hand
+to stop her.
 
- "There was aship."
+"If you can guarantee the money," Killius said, "I can guarantee
+results."
 
- Jack, faced at once with too many awful implications, ducked away from them. He laid a hand on the pig and drew his knife. Ralph brought his arm down, fist clenched, and his voice shook.
+Maddox met Killius's gaze for a moment.  Archer found herself holding
+her breath.  The two women were staring at each other as if they could
+read each other's minds.
 
- "There was a ship. Out there. You said you'd keep the fire going and you let it out!" He took a step toward Jack, who turned and faced him.
+"I can guarantee the money," Maddox said.
 
- "They might have seen us. We might have gone home--"
+"Then you'll have your probes.  I'll make sure we'll know everything
+humanly possible about those aliens by the time they make their return
+trip around the sun.  And you can have all the shuttles you can pay to
+get into orbit."
 
- This was too bitter for Piggy, who forgot his timidity in the agony of his loss. He began to cry out, shrilly:
+"Good," Maddox said.  "I can't ask for more."
 
- "You and your blood, Jack Merridew! You and your hunting! We might have gone home--"
+She picked up her fork and poked at her duck.  Archer cut another piece
+of steak.  It was one of the best steaks she had eaten for a long time.
+After a moment, Killius pulled her plate closer and began to pick apart
+the lobster.
 
- Ralph pushed Piggy to one side.
+Maddox took a bite of duck and then smiled.  "The meeting's over," she
+said.  "Let's have a real conversation, about men, and vid stars, and
+whether or not we should have dessert."
 
- "I was chief, and you were going to do what I said. You talk. But you can't even build huts--then you go off hunting and let out the fire--"
+Archer looked at her.
 
- He turned away, silent for a moment. Then his voice came again on a peak of feeling.
+Killius seemed startled.
 
- "There was a ship--"
+Maddox raised her eyebrows.  "We don't get chances like this very
+often," she said, "and I suspect our chances will be fewer and fewer
+over the next couple of months."
 
- One of the smaller hunters began to wail. The dismal truth was filtering through to everybody. Jack went very red as he hacked and pulled at the pig.
+She took a bite of duck, chewed for a moment, and then cut another
+piece.  It was as if she couldn't get enough.
 
- "The job was too much. We needed everyone."
+She said, "Eat well, ladies.  We have to enjoy the good things in life
+while we still have them."
 
- Ralph turned.
+The words didn't encourage Archer to eat more.  Instead, they nearly
+stole her appetite.  While we still have them.  Even Maddox thought
+that ultimately they'd lose.
 
- "You could have had everyone when the shelters were finished. But you had to hunt--"
+Archer shuddered.
 
- "We needed meat."
+She had a hunch Maddox was right.
 
- Jack stood up as he said this, the bloodied knife in his hand. The two boys faced each other. There was the brilliant world of hunting, tactics, fierce exhilaration, skill; and there was the world of longing and baffled commonsense. Jack transferred the knife to his left hand and smudged blood over his forehead as he pushed down the plastered hair.
+April 29, 2018 22:07 Universal Time
 
- Piggy began again.
+168 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "You didn't ought to have let that fire out. You said you'd keep the smoke going--"
+General Gail Banks felt the shuttle shudder as it attached itself to
+the docking bay outside one of the units of the International Space
+Station.  Sloppy work, that.  A shuttle should never shudder when it
+docked, especially in space, where so many things could go wrong.
+
+She waited for the all clear, then unhooked all her seat belts locking
+her into the passenger chair.  She had purposely stayed out of the
+cockpit--she'd learned through bitter experience that she couldn't be
+hands-off when faced with a less competent pilot than she was, and most
+pilots never came up to her exacting standards.  When she had been in
+charge of the shuttle program, pilot testing had been rigorous.  So
+rigorous, in fact, that some idiot had complained to the media, which
+then sicced the congressional doofuses on the case.  Congressmen who
+had Air Force bases in their home states, and tons of pilots who
+someday dreamed of flying to the moon as their constituents, suddenly
+demanded an investigation.
+
+And so, Banks had to spend a week out of her life sitting in front of
+microphones in the House of Representatives, defending her standards to
+a bunch of people who wouldn't know what standards were if a lobbyist
+didn't tell them.  It had been all she could do to keep her contempt to
+a minimum.
 
- This from Piggy, and the wails of agreement from some of the hunters, drove Jack to violence. The bolting look came into his blue eyes. He took a step, and able at last to hit someone, stuck his fist into Piggy's stomach. Piggy sat down with a grunt. Jack stood over him. His voice was vicious with humiliation.
+Not that it did any good.  She was the public face for the program, and
+so, of course, she was the one whose head went on the block.  She got
+several apologies from her superiors, all of whom said they wouldn't
+have removed her from duty if it had been their choice.  But it hadn't
+been.  The suits had
 
- "You would, would you? Fatty!"
+decided that standards were too rigorous.  Our pilots weren't getting
+a fair shake.
 
- Ralph made a step forward and Jack smacked Piggy's head. Piggy's glasses flew off and tinkled on the rocks. Piggy cried out in terror:
+And now she had to tolerate a shuddery docking on the International
+Space Station.  A shuddery docking on the wrong part of the ISS could
+create all sorts of internal problems for the station.  If she had
+time, she would try to affect the piloting problems from here.
 
- "My specs!"
+She wouldn't have time, and she knew it.  She was on the tightest
+deadline of her life.
 
- He went crouching and feeling over the rocks but Simon, who got there first, found them for him. Passions beat about Simon on the mountain-top with awful wings.
+"Ready, General?"  The pilot poked his head through the separator.
 
- "One side's broken."
+"Are you certain we're properly docked?"  she asked.  "That was a rough
+connection."
+
+"All systems go according to the board."
+
+"I don't give a damn about the board," she said.  "You eyeball it,
+mister, and then we disembark.  I've got nuclear missiles onboard this
+beast, and I'm not going to lose one of them to your carelessness."
+
+The pilot's face flushed.  "Yes, sir."  He disappeared into the cockpit
+again.
+
+She clutched a rung and waited.  He hadn't turned the low gravity on
+yet either, and they would need it to unload those missiles.  This part
+of the ISS, the newest part, had continual gravity--not as strong as
+Earth's--but enough so that the permanent members of the ISS's staff
+didn't get osteoporosis or other degenerative bone and muscle diseases.
+No matter how much exercise folks did in zero g, it didn't substitute
+for the good old force of gravity herself.
+
+Through the closed cockpit door, she heard the slide of the pilot's
+exit.  Well, at least he took her advice.  Only she didn't think it was
+her tone that worried him.  She thought it was probably the mention of
+the missiles.  Most folks didn't like the mention of nuclear and
+warhead in the same sentence, let alone in the same phrase.
+
+She smiled to herself, and floated toward one of the windows  The ISS
+was a strange place.  The first pieces, Russian built, went up before
+the turn of the century.  The ISS was, as its name suggested, an
+international project that had been initially designed for research.
+But as more private industry got into space travel, and as governments
+saw the point of it, the suggestion of turning the ISS into an
+interplanetary way station gained legs.  The problem was that the ISS
+wasn't designed for it.  Sure, it had modules upon modules upon
+modules, but they were held together with spit and glue, and a whole
+lot of prayer.  The newest pieces could barely talk to the younger
+pieces, and the oldest piece, called Zarya by its designers, was mostly
+shut down because it had become so dangerous.  Unfortunately, it was
+smack-dab in the middle of the main section of the station, so it
+couldn't be disassembled or jettisoned, at least not without great
+effort, great expense, and great risk.
+
+Zarya wasn't her problem.  The ISS really wasn't.  She was running ops
+from here, and her biggest problem wasn't the missiles.  It was the
+deadline.  When General Clarissa Maddox assigned Banks the task, she'd
+said, "I know this deadline is tight.  In fact, it's damn near
+impossible.  But you're the only person I know who can make the
+impossible happen efficiently and well."
+
+It was, Banks knew, both a vote of confidence and an apology for all
+the things that had happened with the shuttle program.  But Banks also
+knew she wouldn't be assigned a mission this critical strictly as an
+apology.  She had to be the best for the job, just like Maddox said she
+was.
+
+There was no margin for error.  She wouldn't allow any.  She'd make
+sure these missiles were unloaded, and then when the next shipment came
+up, she'd make sure those missiles were properly taken care of, as
+well.
+
+And she would keep doing that until all the area around the space
+station was filled with missiles.  And then the aliens would see that
+they attacked the wrong people.
+
+Maddox's plan was a good one, and Banks was proud to be the one who
+would make sure everything got done right.  She wouldn't make any
+friends on this job, but she might just save a few billion human
+lives.
+
+She grinned.
+
+As long as they were killing a few billion aliens in the process, she
+could live with that.
+
+5
+
+May 6, 2018
+
+9:02 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
+
+161 Days Until Second Harvest
+
+Leo Cross was late and of all the places to be late to, Nan Tech wasn't
+one of them.  He had forgotten how these old streets outside the
+Beltway jammed during rush hour.  He was five miles from Nan Tech and
+it felt like he was five hundred miles away.
+
+His car was on automatic, following the directions given by the
+guidance system installed somewhere in Detroit.
+
+"What do those idiots know about D.C.?"  he muttered and shut off the
+guidance system.  The Mercedes squawked, "Are you certain--?"  before
+he shut off the vocal controls as well.  Then he took over the steering
+himself, turned right onto a side street, and drove fifteen miles over
+the speed limit through a residential area that had been built around
+the time he was born.
+
+He hoped no children were playing hooky from school, no dogs decided to
+take that moment to cross the road, no cats chased a mouse across his
+path.  He hadn't driven hands on in months, not since the last time
+he'd rented a car in, what?  Oregon?  when he went out to see Bradshaw
+for the very first time.
+
+It was rather liberating.  He hadn't realized how controlled he felt
+by this expensive car, by its automatic everything--so smooth you can
+forget how to drive and still get where you're going in comfort,
+according to the stupid radio ads.  Well, he was getting where he was
+going, in comfort, and on time, because he was taking matters into his
+own hands.
+
+The back streets had none of the crunch of the main thoroughfares.  He
+was beginning to see the problems inherent in automatic guidance
+systems.
+
+He turned into the Nan Tech employee lot, bounced over a few speed
+bumps, and parked behind the building.  There was no gilt here, no
+fancy scrollwork to mar the glass-and-steel design.  It looked so '90s.
+He'd always found that amusing.  He was coming to the cutting edge of
+nanotechnology, and the building looked dated.
+
+He walked in the back door, ignoring the building as it greeted
+him--everything at Nan Tech talked--and happy to avoid the bug
+sculpture in the lobby.  That's what Bradshaw called it anyway.  The
+sculpture was supposed to be of a human form covered with nanomachines.
+Instead, Bradshaw said, it looked like some poor guy covered with
+ants.
+
+Cross pressed a button for the elevator.  He debated, as he waited for
+the doors to open, whether or not to shut off the vocal unit, but then
+decided not to.  He was late.  He deserved it.
+
+Besides, he didn't know where everyone was meeting.
+
+The elevator doors slid open silently.  The elevator was empty.  Cross
+cursed under his breath, and stepped inside.
+
+Dr.  Cross.  You are half an hour late.  I will take you to the
+fifteenth floor.
 
- Piggy grabbed and put on the glasses. He looked malevolently at Jack.
+"Thanks," he muttered, knowing he didn't sound grateful at all.  He
+hated having inanimate objects talk to him.  Portia Groopman, she of
+the genius mind trapped in a twenty-year old's body, said she found all
+this idle chatter "comforting."
 
- "I got to have them specs. Now I only got one eye. Jus' you wait--"
+Cross was really afraid to think about what the world would be like in
+his old age.
 
- Jack made a move toward Piggy who scrambled away till a great rock lay between them. He thrust his head over the top and glared at Jack through his one flashing glass.
+If the world survived to his old age.
 
- "Now I only got one eye. Just you wait--"
+He shuddered, wishing that for one day he could forget how very close
+they all were to losing everything.
 
- Jack mimicked the whine and scramble.
+The elevator doors opened.  The nanomachines had formed a series of
+teddy bear sculptures, all of them pointing to the left.
 
- "Jus' you wait--yah!"
+"Cute, Portia," Cross said.
 
- Piggy and the parody were so funny that the hunters began to laugh. Jack felt encouraged. He went on scrambling and the laughter rose to a gale of hysteria. Unwillingly Ralph felt his lips twitch; he was angry with himself for giving way.
+She had designed the nanosculptures, as she called them.  They changed
+daily, sometimes hourly.  Nanomachines were programmed to form several
+different images.  Usually the changes followed a prearranged program,
+but sometimes someone--usually Portia--made them do something special
+for a guest.  In this case, a late guest.
 
- He muttered.
+Cross followed the pointing bears down one hallway until he reached an
+open doorway.  Inside, he saw Bradshaw, Portia, and two other members
+of Nan Tech whiz squad, as Bradshaw called them.  None of the Nan Tech
+employees on this team, at least, were older than twenty-five.
 
- "That was a dirty trick."
+"Hey, Leo, it's about time," Portia said.  She looked up from the
+screen she'd been studying.  She was a slight girl, whose delicate
+frame made her seem even slighter.  She wore rose tinted glasses and
+had her black hair cut in a perfect wedge.  Her skin was tanned from
+her trip to South America with Bradshaw.
 
- Jack broke out of his gyration and stood facing Ralph. His words came in a shout.
+Bradshaw looked up at the mention of Cross's name.  Bradshaw was the
+oldest member of the Tenth Planet Project.  He was nearly sixty,
+although he didn't look it.  He had lost weight since coming to
+Washington, D.C."  but he still had love handles, as Britt called them,
+and his graying hair needed a trim.  He, too, had tanned on this last
+trip, and it accented the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth.
 
- "All right, all right!"
+"Leo," he said.  "You're late.  ""It the damn car," Cross said, and
+came into the room.  "It insisted on driving us the slow route."
 
- He looked at Piggy, at the hunters, at Ralph.
+"You know, you can program the guidance systems to do anything you
+want."  Jeremy Lantine, the head of the biology division at Nan Tech
+was a scrawny black-haired man who, in a different generation, probably
+would have been a poet.  His goatee was an affectation that matched his
+beret.  His beat-up leather jacket hung on the chair beside him.  He
+wore a see through muscle-T that revealed his muscle less chest.  "You
+can even make them ignore all the rules of the road.  It takes some
+jury-rigging, but--"
 
- "I'm sorry. About the fire, I mean. There. I--"
+"Some day," Cross said, "I'll let you adjust my machine."
 
- He drew himself up.
+"Excellent," Lantine said.
 
- "--I apologize."
+"I wouldn't let him loose on it," said Yukio Brown.  Yukio wore his
+dark hair in a modified Mohawk, and he had tattoos on both cheeks.  The
+designs matched--two S-shaped squiggly lines on one side, and two
+inverted S-shaped squiggly lines on the other side--but Yukio said they
+signified nothing except his lame attempt to get his father's
+attention.  "He might instruct your guidance system to drive only on
+lawns."
 
- The buzz from the hunters was one of admiration at this handsome behavior. Clearly they were of the opinion that Jack had done the decent thing, had put himself in the right by his generous apology and Ralph, obscurely, in the wrong. They waited for an appropriately decent answer.
+"I wouldn't do that," Lantine said.  "I never repeat myself."
 
- Yet Ralph's throat refused to pass one. He resented, as an addition to Jack's misbehavior, this verbal trick. The fire was dead, the ship was gone. Could they not see? Anger instead of decency passed his throat.
+"See why I don't have a car?"  Portia said.  "These guys would just
+screw it up.  Although that was kinda funny, watching you chase after
+your car as it dug ruts in all that nicely mowed grass."
 
- "That was a dirty trick."
+"It was not funny," Brown said.  "That old lady on Third made me pay to
+have the whole thing re sodded
 
- They were silent on the mountain-top while the opaque look appeared in Jack's eyes and passed away.
+"Made me pay, you mean," Lantine said.
 
- Ralph's final word was an ingracious mutter.
+"No," Brown said.  "I made you pay."
 
- "All right. Light the fire."
+"Enough, children," Bradshaw said.  "Leo wasted enough of our time
+being late.  When this crisis is over, you can tell us all you want
+about your car wars.  Until then, the stories get canned."
 
- With some positive action before them, a little of the tension died. Ralph said no more, did nothing, stood looking down at the ashes round his feet. Jack was loud and active. He gave orders, sang, whistled, threw remarks at the silent Ralph--remarks that did not need an answer, and therefore could not invite a snub; and still Ralph was silent. No one, not even Jack, would ask him to move and in the end they had to build the fire three yards away and in a place not really as convenient.
+Cross whistled.  "You're being tough, old man."
 
- So Ralph asserted his chieftainship and could not have chosen a better way if he had thought for days. Against this weapon, so indefinable and so effective, Jack was powerless and raged without knowing why. By the time the pile was built, they were on different sides of a high barrier.
+"I've had to listen to them for a week, Leo."  Bradshaw looked aggravated, but his eyes were twinkling.  "While you've
+been--what have you been doing since you got back?"
 
- When they had dealt with the fire another crisis arose. Jack had no means of lighting it. Then to his surprise, Ralph went to Piggy and took the glasses from him. Not even Ralph knew how a link between him and Jack had been snapped and fastened elsewhere.
+Cross came around the table.  They had several screens set up, all with
+different views of the nanomachines.  Many were models that were
+rotating.  Some were changing as if they were going through a cycle.
 
- "I'll bring 'em back."
+"I've been visiting our friends at the Pentagon mostly," Cross said,
+"trying to find out what the government's doing with the other
+nanoharvesters.  No one'll tell me.  Clarissa Maddox says that I'll
+know when she knows."
 
- "I'll come too."
+"But you're the guide behind this thing," Lantine said.
 
- Piggy stood behind him, islanded in a sea of meaningless color, while Ralph knelt and focused the glossy spot. Instantly the fire was alight, Piggy held out his hands and grabbed the glasses back.
+"I am not a specialist in nanotechnology," Cross said, modifying his
+voice so that he sounded like Maddox.  "Really, Dr.  Cross.  You can't
+oversee everything."
 
- Before these fantastically attractive flowers of violet and red and yellow, unkindness melted away. They became a circle of boys round a camp fire and even Piggy and Ralph were half-drawn in. Soon some of the boys were rushing down the slope for more wood while Jack hacked the pig. They tried holding the whole carcass on a stake over the fire, but the stake burnt more quickly than the pig roasted. In the end they skewered bits of meat on branches and held them in the flames: and even then almost as much boy was roasted as meat.
+"Yes, Dr.  Cross," Bradshaw said, and then shook his head.  "How do
+they expect anything to get done if they're going to clamp down on the
+information flow?"
 
- Ralph's mouth watered. He meant to refuse meat, but his past diet of fruit and nuts, with an odd crab or fish, gave him too little resistance. He accepted a piece of halfraw meat and gnawed it like a wolf.
+"They have to," Cross said.  "They don't want it in the wrong hands."
 
- Piggy spoke, also dribbling.
+"Since when did you become the wrong hands?"  Brown asked.
 
- "Aren't I having none?"
+The room was silent for a moment.  Cross felt his breath catch in his
+throat.  He hadn't thought of it that way.
 
- Jack had meant to leave him in doubt, as an assertion of power; but Piggy by advertising his omission made more cruelty necessary.
+"It's the military way," Bradshaw said.  "One branch doesn't tell the
+other branch what's going on, not without a big conference about
+something or other."
 
- "You didn't hunt."
+"It's the government way," Cross said, thinking about the stuff his
+friend Mickelson went through as secretary of state.
 
- "No more did Ralph," said Piggy wetly, "nor Simon." He amplified. "There isn't more than a ha'porth of meat in a crab."
+"I suppose," Portia said.  "But it seems weird to me.  They don't know
+we have these, do they?"
 
- Ralph stirred uneasily. Simon, sitting between the twins and Piggy, wiped his mouth and shoved his piece of meat over the rocks to Piggy, who grabbed it. The twins giggled and Simon lowered his face in shame.
+Cross shook his head.
 
- Then Jack leapt to his feet, slashed off a great hunk of meat, and flung it down at Simon's feet.
+"You expected this?"  Lantine asked.
 
- "Eat! Damn you!"
+Cross's smile was small.  "No, I didn't.  But Maddox warned me.  She
+didn't have to.  She could have ordered me to bring
 
- He glared at Simon.
+everything to her after I'd arrived in D.C. But she told me before."
 
- "Take it!"
+"You think that was a warning?"  Brown asked.  "Sounds like that good
+old-fashioned oxymoron, military intelligence, to me."
 
- He spun on his heel, center of a bewildered circle of boys.
+This time, Cross glared at him.  "Clarissa Maddox is one of the
+smartest people I know.  And she's damn political.  She doesn't make a
+mistake like that.  She let me know she was going to cut me out of the
+loop, it was part of her job, and she gave me a choice of going around
+her."
 
- "I got you meat!"
+"Which isn't to say you won't get nailed if she catches us working on
+this," Bradshaw said.
 
- Numberless and inexpressible frustrations combined to make his rage elemental and awe-inspiring.
+"Right," Cross said.  "Unless we find something really good."
 
- "I painted my face--I stole up. Now you eat--all of you--and I--"
+Portia sighed.  She eased herself into a chair.  Lantine adjusted his
+beret.  Brown flopped beside Portia.
 
- Slowly the silence on the mountain-top deepened till the click of the fire and the soft hiss of roasting meat could be heard clearly. Jack looked round for understanding but found only respect. Ralph stood among the ashes of the signal fire, his hands full of meat, saying nothing.
+"We did find something good, right?"  Cross asked.
 
- Then at last Maurice broke the silence. He changed the subject to the only one that could bring the majority of them together.
+"It depends on your definition of good," Bradshaw said.
 
- "Where did you find the pig?"
+"Anything that'll help us win this next battle," Cross said.  "Or
+prevent these things from working."
 
- Roger pointed down the unfriendly side. "They were there--by the sea."
+"We're not miracle workers," Lantine muttered.
 
- Jack, recovering could not bear to have his story told. He broke in quickly.
+Portia punched him in the arm.  He glared at her, rubbed his rubbery
+bicep, and said, "I mean, we've only had a week, sir."
 
- "We spread round. I crept, on hands and knees. The spears fell out because they hadn't barbs on. The pig ran away and made an awful noise--"
+"Actually, I think we've got a lot," Portia said.  "It just isn't what
+you need yet.  But we'll get it."
 
- "It turned back and ran into the circle, bleeding--"
+"What do you have?"  Cross asked.  He turned his fullest attention to
+her because she was the real whiz kid in this group.  Her office--which
+was in a different part of this building-was decorated in early
+chocolate and stuffed animals.  But she was no child.  She had one of
+the most far-reaching minds he'd encountered in all his years in the
+sciences.
 
- All the boys were talking at once, relieved and excited.
+She glanced at her colleagues.  "Everyone okay with me telling this?"
 
- "We closed in--"
+"You're the one who found the stuff," Brown said.  There was no
+animosity in his tone.  "We're just here to ask the questions that get
+you going."
 
- The first blow had paralyzed its hind quarters, so then the circle could close in and beat and beat--
+Portia laughed.  She got up and went to the nearest screen.  On it, one
+of the nanomachines rotated slowly.  It was clearly a model.  She
+picked up a laser pointer and turned its red beam on the screen.
 
- "I cut the pig's throat--"
+"What's bugging me the most are those marks," she said.  "I think
+they're a language, and I'm not a linguist.  Still, I look at them and
+wonder if I'm missing something."
 
- The twins, still sharing their identical grin, jumped up and ran round each other. Then the rest joined in, making pig-dying noises and shouting.
+"Tell me what you do have," Cross said.
 
- "One for his nob!"
+"Okay," she said.  "This is a simple machine, just like I told Edwin
+from the fossil he showed me.  It's designed to harvest.  Matter goes
+in, gets processed and the good stuff stored, and the waste comes out.
+That's all."
 
- "Give him a fourpenny one!"
+"These things can't fly or move on their own?"
 
- Then Maurice pretended to be the pig and ran squealing into the center, and the hunters, circling still, pretended to beat him. As they danced, they sang.
+"Nope.  They're like a single-celled organism.  They may have a
+molecular attraction to their target, like a magnet to metal, but they
+have one function and one function only.  Harvest."
 
- "_Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Bash her in._"
+Cross nodded.  "That's good news, right?"
 
- Ralph watched them, envious and resentful. Not till they flagged and the chant died away, did he speak.
+She shut off the laser pointer.  "I don't know.  These things are
+really, really efficient.  Once they're dropped, they go to work, and
+they don't quit until their little bellies are full."
 
- "I'm calling an assembly."
+"Bellies?"  Cross said.
 
- One by one, they halted, and stood watching him.
+"Portia anthropomorphizes everything," Brown said, fondly.
 
- "With the conch. I'm calling a meeting even if we have to go on into the dark. Down on the platform. When I blow it. Now."
+"She's saying that they eat until there's nothing left.  That's why
+it's good these things don't move around much."  Lantine stretched out
+his legs.  "And don't reproduce themselves from what they eat.  When we
+discovered that part, I had this nightmare that these little buggers
+grew legs, reproduced, and started walking.  And when I woke up, I got
+even more scared, because I thought about it, and if they did, they'd
+have gone through more than the California coast.  They'd have eaten
+their way into Nevada, and up into Oregon, and down into
 
- He turned away and walked off, down the mountain.
+Mexico, and God knows what they'd've done under the ocean, and we'd
+have no hope at all."
 
- 
+Cross felt his shoulders tighten.  "No hope?"
 
- 
+"None," Lantine said.  "Kabingo, we're dead.  These things eat organic
+material.  If they walked, reproduced themselves as they went along,
+nothing would survive.  I'm just glad they don't."
 
- CHAPTER FIVE Beast from Water
+"We'd have designed them to move more, I'm sure," Brown said.
 
- 
+"Remember," Portia said to Bradshaw, "when I looked at that fossil, I
+said these things were designed different than people would design
+them?"
 
- The tide was coming in and there was only a narrow strip of firm beach between the water and the white, stumbling stuff near the palm terrace. Ralph chose the firm strip as a path because he needed to think, and only here could he allow his feet to move without having to watch them. Suddenly, pacing by the water, he was overcome with astonishment. He found himself understanding the wearisomeness of this life, where every path was an improvisation and a considerable part of one's waking life was spent watching one's feet. He stopped, facing the strip; and remembering that first enthusiastic exploration as though it were part of a brighter childhood, he smiled jeeringly. He turned then and walked back toward the platform with the sun in his face. The time had come for the assembly and as he walked into the concealing splendors of the sunlight he went carefully over the points of his speech. There must be no mistake about this assembly, no chasing imaginary. . . .
+"I remember," Bradshaw said quietly.
 
- He lost himself in a maze of thoughts that were rendered vague by his lack of words to express them. Frowning, he tried again.
+"Jamison said the same thing to me just last week," Cross said.
 
- This meeting must not be fun, but business.
+"Well, that's one of the things I meant," Portia said.  "We put a lot
+of emphasis on equipment that moves on its own.  I'm guessing that
+movement is less important to these aliens.  Having the harvesters have
+a molecular attraction is more than enough to make them efficient."
 
- At that he walked faster, aware all at once of urgency and the declining sun and a little wind created by his speed that breathed about his face. This wind pressed his grey shirt against his chest so that he noticed--in this new mood of comprehension--how the folds were stiff like cardboard, and unpleasant; noticed too how the frayed edges of his shorts were making an uncomfortable, pink area on the front of his thighs. With a convulsion of the mind, Ralph discovered dirt and decay, understood how much he disliked perpetually flicking the tangled hair out of his eyes, and at last, when the sun was gone, rolling noisily to rest among dry leaves. At that he began to trot.
+"Interesting hypothesis," Cross said, "but I'm loathe to make
+generalizations based on one bit of equipment.  After all, we know
+these aliens are good at other kinds of movement, like using their
+spaceships.  Just because they didn't design their nanomachines in the
+way we would doesn't mean they're that different from us."
 
- The beach near the bathing pool was dotted with groups of boys waiting for the assembly. They made way for him silently, conscious of his grim mood and the fault at the fire.
+"They've got to be different," Brown said.  "We'd never devastate a
+planet like this."
 
- The place of assembly in which he stood was roughly a triangle; but irregular and sketchy, like everything they made. First there was the log on which he himself sat; a dead tree that must have been quite exceptionally big for the platform. Perhaps one of those legendary storms of the Pacific had shifted it here. This palm trunk lay parallel to the beach, so that when Ralph sat he faced the island but to the boys was a darkish figure against the shimmer of the lagoon. The two sides of the triangle of which the log was base were less evenly defined. On the right was a log polished by restless seats along the top, but not so large as the chief's and not so comfortable. On the left were four small logs, one of them--the farthest--lamentably springy. Assembly after assembly had broken up in laughter when someone had leaned too far back and the log had whipped and thrown half a dozen boys backwards into the grass. Yet now, he saw, no one had had the wit--not himself nor Jack, nor Piggy--to bring a stone and wedge the thing. So they would continue enduring the ill-balanced twister, because, because. . . . Again he lost himself in deep waters.
+Cross had to prevent himself from snorting.  Bradshaw looked at Brown
+as if the boy were the most naive person on the planet.
 
- Grass was worn away in front of each trunk but grew tall and untrodden in the center of the triangle. Then, at the apex, the grass was thick again because no one sat there. All round the place of assembly the grey trunks rose, straight or leaning, and supported the low roof of leaves. On two sides was the beach; behind, the lagoon; in front, the darkness of the island.
+"You need to take a class in archaeology," Bradshaw said.
 
- Ralph turned to the chief's seat. They had never had an assembly as late before. That was why the place looked so different. Normally the underside of the green roof was lit by a tangle of golden reflections, and their faces were lit upside down--like, thought Ralph, when you hold an electric torch in your hands. But now the sun was slanting in at one side, so that the shadows were where they ought to be.
+"Archaeology, hell," Cross said.  "How about the history of food?  Take
+a look at what the introduction of farming did to this planet."
 
- Again he fell into that strange mood of speculation that was so foreign to him. If faces were different when lit from above or below--what was a face? What was anything?
+"Not to mention certain methods of hunting," Brad shaw said.
 
- Ralph moved impatiently. The trouble was, if you were a chief you had to think, you had to be wise. And then the occasion slipped by so that you had to grab at a decision. This made you think; because thought was a valuable thing, that got results. . . .
+"We're notorious for stripping land bare--on our own planet," Cross
+said.
 
+Brown held up his hands.  "I stand corrected."
 
- Only, decided Ralph as he faced the chief's seat, I can't think. Not like Piggy.
+"Better sit, then," Lantine said.
 
- Once more that evening Ralph had to adjust his values. Piggy could think. He could go step by step inside that fat head of his, only Piggy was no chief. But Piggy, for all his ludicrous body, had brains. Ralph was a specialist in thought now, and could recognize thought in another.
+"Are you boys done?"  Portia asked.
 
- The sun in his eyes reminded him how time was passing, so he took the conch down from the tree and examined the surface. Exposure to the air had bleached the yellow and pink to near-white, and transparency. Ralph felt a kind of affectionate reverence for the conch, even though he had fished the thing out of the lagoon himself. He faced the place of assembly and put the conch to his lips.
+Cross grinned at her.  She smiled back, then ducked her head shyly, her
+bangs falling across her eyes.  "Sorry, Portia," he said.  "What else
+have you got?"
 
- The others were waiting for this and came straight away. Those who were aware that a ship had passed the island while the fire was out were subdued by the thought of Ralph's anger; while those, including the littluns who did not know, were impressed by the general air of solemnity. The place of assembly filled quickly; Jack, Simon, Maurice, most of the hunters, on Ralph's right; the rest on the left, under the sun. Piggy came and stood outside the triangle. This indicated that he wished to listen, but would not speak; and Piggy intended it as a gesture of disapproval.
+She tossed the laser pointer from one hand to the other.  Lantine
+grabbed a small stuffed dog, about the size of a golf ball, from a
+nearby table and tossed it at her.  She caught it and nodded her
+thanks.
 
- "The thing is: we need an assembly."
+Cross suppressed another smile.  The team knew one another well.
+Whatever Portia had to say, it bothered her, and Lantine knew she
+needed comfort.  He also knew the dog would provide it.
 
- No one said anything but the faces turned to Ralph were intent. He flourished the conch. He had learnt as a practical business that fundamental statements like this had to be said at least twice, before everyone understood them. One had to sit, attracting all eyes to the conch, and drop words like heavy round stones among the little groups that crouched or squatted. He was searching his mind for simple words so that even the littluns would understand what the assembly was about. Later perhaps, practiced debaters--Jack, Maurice, Piggy--would use their whole art to twist the meeting: but now at the beginning the subject of the debate must be laid out clearly.
+"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath.  "Dr.  Cross, I'm not sure we
+can turn these harvesters off."
 
- "We need an assembly. Not for fun. Not for laughing and falling off the log"--the group of littluns on the twister giggled and looked at each other--"not for making jokes, or for"--he lifted the conch in an effort to find the compelling word--"for cleverness. Not for these things. But to put things straight."
+"They stop, don't they?"
 
- He paused for a moment.
+She nodded.  "But only when they're full.  Once they start chewing or
+dissolving or whatever they do, they keep doing it.  I have not been
+able to find an intercept."
 
- "I've been alone. By myself I went, thinking what's what. I know what we need. An assembly to put things straight. And first of all, I'm speaking."
+"No emergency shut-off valve?"  Cross asked.
 
- He paused for a moment and automatically pushed back his hair. Piggy tiptoed to the triangle, his ineffectual protest made, and joined the others.
+"Not that I can find."  She cupped the dog in her right hand and rubbed
+a thumb along the dog's nose.  Cross half expected it to wag its
+stuffed blue tail.  "And I'm not even sure these things shut off in the
+way that we're thinking."
 
- Ralph went on.
+"What do you mean?"  Cross asked.
 
- "We have lots of assemblies. Everybody enjoys speaking and being together. We decide things. But they don't get done. We were going to have water brought from the stream and left in those coconut shells under fresh leaves. So it was, for a few days. Now there's no water. The shells are dry. People drink from the river."
+"I think they shut off when they're full, like I said.  But there's no
+way to test it.  Because they seem to be full when the organic material
+goes away."
 
- There was a murmur of assent.
+"In other words," Brown said, "they stop running when the food is
+gone."
 
- "Not that there's anything wrong with drinking from the river. I mean I'd sooner have water from that place-- you know, the pool where the waterfall is--than out of an old coconut shell. Only we said we'd have the water brought. And now not. There were only two full shells there this afternoon."
+"But if there were unlimited food," Portia said, "I'm not sure they
+would stop until they were completely full."
 
- He licked his lips.
+"Like the locusts of Biblical fame," Bradshaw muttered.
 
- "Then there's huts. Shelters."
+"What?"  Lantine asked.
 
- The murmur swelled again and died away.
+"You know, the ones that God sent against the Pharaoh," Brown said.
 
- "You mostly sleep in shelters. Tonight, except for Samneric up by the fire, you'll all sleep there. Who built the shelters?"
+"Actually," Bradshaw said, "I was thinking of the one mentioned in the
+Book of Joel."
 
- Clamor rose at once. Everyone had built the shelters. Ralph had to wave the conch once more.
+"It left the land barren," Cross said.  His gaze met Brad shaw's.  "You
+think they saw these things?"
 
- "Wait a minute! I mean, who built all three? We all built the first one, four of us the second one, and me 'n Simon built the last one over there. That's why it's so tottery. No. Don't laugh. That shelter might fall down if the rain comes back. We'll need those shelters then."
+Bradshaw shrugged.  "I don't know.  It might have been actual locusts.
+But I was thinking about the devastation, how nothing was left and
+there was starvation all over the land."
 
- He paused and cleared his throat.
+"If they drop more of these things," Lantine said, and then stopped.
 
- "There's another thing. We chose those rocks right along beyond the bathing pool as a lavatory. That was sensible too. The tide cleans the place up. You littluns know about that."
+Portia was staring at all of them.  Her hand had closed around the dog.
+The poor thing looked as if it were strangling.  If, of course, it had
+actually been alive.
 
- There were sniggers here and there and swift glances.
+"If they blanketed the entire United States," she said, "we'd have
+nothing left.  It'd look like it did in South America.  We'd be gone,
+and there'd be dust everywhere."
 
- "Now people seem to use anywhere. Even near the shelters and the platform. You littluns, when you're getting fruit; if you're taken short--"
+"And that'd be all that's left of us," Brown said.
 
- The assembly roared.
+Cross shuddered.  Not all.  There'd be zippers and earrings and
+buttons, and concrete, and cable, and steel.  Enough for archaeologists
+to sift through a thousand years from now and misjudge what the entire
+society was about.
 
- "I said if you're taken short you keep away from the fruit. That's dirty!"
+"Okay," Cross said.  "Let me get this straight.  Either these things
+stop when they're full or they stop when they run out of material to
+chew."
 
- Laughter rose again.
+Portia nodded.
 
- "I said that's dirty!"
+"Can you make them think they're full?"
 
- He plucked at his stiff, grey shirt.
+"Or think they're out of raw material?"  she asked.  "I don't know.
+This technology is truly alien, Dr.  Cross.  I mean, they
 
- "That's really dirty. If you're taken short you go right along the beach to the rocks. See?"
+have spaceships and we have spaceships, but that doesn't mean one of
+our astronauts can get into their ship and fly it."
 
- Piggy held out his hands for the conch but Ralph shook his head. His speech was planned, point by point.
+"Not without some study," Cross said.
 
- "We've all got to use the rocks again. This place is getting dirty." He paused. The assembly, sensing a crisis, was tensely expectant. "And then: about the fire."
+"Right," she said.  "And I'm just beginning work on this."
 
- Ralph let out his spare breath with a little gasp that was echoed by his audience. Jack started to chip a piece of wood with his knife and whispered something to Robert, who looked away.
+"We don't have a lot of time," Cross said.
 
- "The fire is the most important thing on the island. How can we ever be rescued except by luck, if we don't keep a fire going? Is a fire too much for us to make?"
+"She knows."  Bradshaw now sounded fatherly, as if Cross were pushing
+too hard.  "These kids have already managed to cram a year's worth of
+work into a week, Leo.  You're expecting miracles."
 
- He flung out an arm.
+"We need miracles."  He leaned against the desk and stared morosely at
+the slowly rotating image of the nanoharvester.  Whoever thought that
+destruction of the human race might come from machines so tiny that
+they were almost impossible to see with the human eye?
 
- "Look at us! How many are we? And yet we can't keep a fire going to make smoke. Don't you understand? Can't you see we ought to--ought to die before we let the fire out?"
+"There's one more thing, Dr.  Cross," Portia said softly.
 
- There was a self-conscious giggling among the hunters. Ralph turned on them passionately.
+He looked up.  She had opened her hand and was still petting that
+little dog.  She looked like a girl who was asking for the keys to her
+dad's car, not about to explain a scientific discovery.
 
- "You hunters! You can laugh! But I tell you the smoke is more important than the pig, however often you kill one. Do all of you see?" He spread his arms wide and turned to the whole triangle.
+"It's really clear that these nanoharvesters can be programmed."
 
- "We've got to make smoke up there--or die."
+He felt his heart leap.  "By us?"
 
- He paused, feeling for his next point.
+She shook her head.  "By the aliens."
 
- "And another thing."
+He frowned.  "What do you mean?  I thought you said these harvesters
+had only a single purpose."
 
- Someone called out.
+"They do," she said.  "They're harvesters.  But they don't have to
+harvest organic material.  They can harvest anything.  What they
+harvest is programmable."
 
- "Too many things."
+"How'd you figure this out?"
 
- There came a mutter of agreement. Ralph overrode them.
+"Don't ask," Bradshaw said, meaning he already had.
 
- "And another thing. We nearly set the whole island on fire. And we waste time, rolling rocks, and making little cooking fires. Now I say this and make it a rule, because I'm chief. We won't have a fire anywhere but on the mountain. Ever."
+But Portia had turned toward the third screen.  A set of the
+nanoharvesters was shoved to one side, next to several of the fossils.
+"Edwin's been teaching me how to examine fossils," she said.  "I looked
+at the fossils we have and compared them to the harvesters we have."
 
- There was a row immediately. Boys stood up and shouted and Ralph shouted back.
+Cross's stomach was jumping.  He wasn't sure he liked what was coming
+next.
 
- "Because if you want a fire to cook fish or crab, you can jolly well go up the mountain. That way we'll be certain."
+"About four thousand years ago, we have a fossilized harvester
+preserved with the body of a small rodent," Bradshaw said.  "I didn't
+think anything of it at the time.  But when we got back from Brazil, I
+looked at it.  And this was one of the few cases where we had a written
+record.  The aliens needed something special.  The harvesters fell, but
+they took minerals out of rock instead of organic material.  At least,
+that's what I'm guessing."
 
- Hands were reaching for the conch in the light of the setting sun. He held on and leapt on the trunk.
+Cross peered at the harvesters and then at the fossil.  "I don't see a
+difference."
 
- "All this I meant to say. Now I've said it. You voted me for chief. Now you do what I say."
+"There is none," Portia said.  "That's what I'm saying.  These aliens
+can program these things.  If the aliens need organic material, they
+take that.  If they need water, I'll bet they can take that.  If they
+need only ocean salt, I'll bet they can take that.  All with these
+things."
 
- They quieted, slowly, and at last were seated again. Ralph dropped down and spoke in his ordinary voice.
+Cross stared at those alien machines.  They were growing more and more
+hideous, the more he heard about them.  "So," he said.  "If they want
+to take all of Earth's resources, they can."
 
- "So remember. The rocks for a lavatory. Keep the fire going and smoke showing as a signal. Don't take fire from the mountain. Take your food up there."
+Portia nodded.  "I think so.  If they have enough harvesters.  And
+enough time."
 
- Jack stood up, scowling in the gloom, and held out his hands.
+"My God," Cross said.  How come the more they discovered, the more
+difficult things became?
 
- "I haven't finished yet."
+He stood.  "See if you can find a way to shut those things off," he
+said
 
- "But you've talked and talked!"
+"We're doing our best," Brown said.  "It would help if we knew what our
+military colleagues were doing."
 
- "I've got the conch."
+"I know," Cross said, "but I don't think we'll know any time soon. Just
+assume you're working alone on this."
 
- Jack sat down, grumbling.
+"There are some great nanotechnology guys in other labs," Brown said.
 
- "Then the last thing. This is what people can talk about."
+"Bring them in," Cross said.  "We a for-profit company," Lantine
+said.
 
- He waited till the platform was very still.
+Cross stared at him for a moment.
 
- "Things are breaking up. I don't understand why. We began well; we were happy. And then--"
+Lantine raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.  "I know, I know.
+If we don't survive, profit won't matter.  But if we do--"
 
- He moved the conch gently, looking beyond them at nothing, remembering the beastie, the snake, the fire, the talk of fear.
+"You have my permission to patent your findings.  This is a rogue
+operation anyway.  You may as well make use of it."  Cross again had
+the feeling that, if the Earth survived this threat, he and the others
+were creating a culture he wasn't sure he was going to like.
 
- "Then people started getting frightened."
+But he'd rather take that--a culture he hated--than a silent Earth
+blanketed in dust.
 
- A murmur, almost a moan, rose and passed away. Jack had stopped whittling. Ralph went on, abruptly.
+May 6, 2018
 
- "But that's littluns' talk. We'll get that straight. So the last part, the bit we can all talk about, is kind of deciding on the fear."
+20:34 Universal Time
 
- The hair was creeping into his eyes again.
+161 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "We've got to talk about this fear and decide there's nothing in it. I'm frightened myself, sometimes; only that's nonsense! Like bogies. Then, when we've decided, we can start again and be careful about things like the fire." A picture of three boys walking along the bright beach flitted through his mind. "And be happy."
+The old glide paths were dust covered and rusted.  Cicoi was able to
+use his glide platform for only half of the distance.  For the rest, he
+had to pick it up with two lower tentacles, and cross debris, gingerly,
+with the remaining eight.  The Elder who had been assigned to him
+waited in the air before him, flapping his own ghostly tentacles, as if
+Cicoi's slow progress irritated him.
 
- Ceremonially, Ralph laid the conch on the trunk beside him as a sign that the speech was over. What sunlight reached them was level.
+Cicoi had no idea where they were going.  All he knew was that his
+Elder, who refused to tell Cicoi his name, had simply said, inside
+Cicoi's brain, You shall come with me.
 
- Jack stood up and took the conch.
+Of course Cicoi obeyed.  All of the Commanders obeyed the Elders, and
+did not discuss their hesitations, although Cicoi had many.  He assumed
+the others had many as well.  The Elders seemed to have taken complete
+control, and they didn't seem concerned about the destroyed ships, the
+lack of
 
- "So this is a meeting to find out what's what. I'll tell you what's what. You littluns started all this, with the fear talk. Beasts! Where from? Of course we're frightened sometimes but we put up with being frightened. Only Ralph says you scream in the night. What does that mean but nightmares? Anyway, you don't hunt or build or help--you're a lot of cry-babies and sissies. That's what. And as for the fear--you'll have to put up with that like the rest of us."
+food gathered on the First Pass, or the decreased possibilities for
+the future.
 
- Ralph looked at Jack open-mouthed, but Jack took no notice.
+The Elder was taking Cicoi to a part of the planet Cicoi had never been
+in before.  Actually, it was a part of the South Cicoi had never been
+in before.  When he had inspected this area before he became Commander,
+he had seen the solar panels laying dark on the planet's surface, as
+they did over most of the planet, and believed what he was told.
 
- "The thing is--fear can't hurt you any more than a dream. There aren't any beasts to be afraid of on this island." He looked along the row of whispering littluns. "Serve you right if something did get you, you useless lot of cry-babies! But there is no animal--"
+That this part of the South was empty land--once farmland, generations
+ago, under a different sun.  Now abandoned and left, empty and resting,
+until, perhaps, that day came in Far Beyond, when life grew on Malmur
+again.  When the solar panels could be removed and light actually
+allowed to reach the surface.
 
- Ralph interrupted him testily.
+Sometimes Cicoi did not believe in the Far Beyond.
 
- "What is all this? Who said anything about an animal?"
+The glide paths leading to this region confused him.  He knew that
+workers had once been here--as evidenced by the solar panels' existence
+over them--and he knew that workers occasionally had to come effect
+repairs, but he did not expect someone--even long ago--to have gone to
+the expense of a glide path.
 
- "You did, the other day. You said they dream and cry out. Now they talk--not only the littluns, but my hunters sometimes--talk of a thing, a dark thing, a beast, some sort of animal. I've heard. You thought not, didn't you? Now listen. You don't get big animals on small islands. Only pigs. You only get lions and tigers in big countries likeAfrica andIndia-- "
+It had been built properly, too, with the right down sloping trajectory
+so that travel on a glide platform required only a single puff of
+energy at the start, and the rider would use slope and momentum to
+maintain speed.  Cicoi felt rather guilty that he had had to restart
+his platform six times already, but the Elder didn't seem irritated by
+it.  He seemed more irritated by Cicoi's slow progress down the glide
+path.
 
- "And the Zoo--"
+It was almost as if the Elder wanted to pick him up and drag him toward
+whatever it was the Elder wanted to show him.
 
- "I've got the conch. I'm not talking about the fear. I'm talking about the beast. Be frightened if you like. But as for the beast--"
+As Cicoi went farther down the glide path, he began to wonder about the
+return trip.  Sometimes, glide paths had a wide slingshot angle, so
+that he would have to go far out of his way in order to rise high
+enough to find the return downslope.  He saw no return slope on either side, and that made him worry
+that it was either too far above him or too far away for him to see.
 
- Jack paused, cradling the conch, and turned to his hunters with their dirty black caps.
+The Elder had said nothing during this long trip.  He had to know that
+Cicoi was worried about everything, from the return glide path to the
+amount of time he was taking away from his post.  Right now his Second
+was running too much of the planning.  His Second was ambitious and
+sometimes short-sighted.  He might be planning for glory rather than
+for the future.
 
- "Am I a hunter or am I not?"
+Cicoi had been spending too much time with the Elder to double-check on
+his Second.
 
- They nodded, simply. He was a hunter all right. No one doubted that.
+The time with the Elder was, to Cicoi's mind, wasted time.  The Elder
+wanted to relive the First Pass, to see what exactly the creatures on
+the third planet had done.  Then the Elder wanted to see Cicoi's plans
+for the Second Pass.  When Cicoi had showed him, the Elder had grunted
+and flown off.  Later, Cicoi had learned that the Elder had joined the
+other Elders, and they had had some sort of conference.
 
- "Well then--I've been all over this island. By myself. If there were a beast I'd have seen it. Be frightened because you're like that--but there is no beast in the forest."
+Cicoi had a blessed two days without the Elder, and then he returned,
+along with his cryptic message.  You shall come with me.
 
- Jack handed back the conch and sat down. The whole assembly applauded him with relief. Then Piggy held out his hand.
+And Cicoi had.  The deeper he went along this glide path, the colder he
+got.  His upper tentacles wrapped around his torso in an effort to keep
+warm.  Cicoi was used to cold temperatures; he had grown up in them.
+But these were uncomfortable and--he worried--maybe even dangerously
+cold.
 
- "I don't agree with all Jack said, but with some. 'Course there isn't a beast in the forest. How could there be? What would a beast eat?"
+He only had two eye stalks up, but he might have to send up more just
+to see.  Even though the solar panels above him were collecting the
+light, they weren't funneling it this deep.  The brownish half-light
+down here did come from the surface, but Cicoi knew the farther he
+went, the dimmer it would get.
 
- "Pig."
+Then he would have to choose between insulting the Elderand seeing
+better.  Cicoi had lost some of his awe of the Great Ones.  He would
+insult the Elder and see what happened.
 
- "We eat pig."
+Suddenly, the glide path veered to the right.  Cicoi went with it, into
+an even darker area.  He was about to un pocket three eye stalks when
+the Elder waved his tentacles at the far rock wall.
 
- "Piggy!"
+Lights flashed on beneath the solar panels.  Lights, clearly being fed
+by the panels.  Lights, whose energy hadn't been used in hundreds of
+Passes.
 
- "I got the conch!" said Piggy indignantly. "Ralph-- they ought to shut up, oughtn't they? You shut up, you littluns! What I mean is that I don't agree about this here fear. Of course there isn't nothing to be afraid of in the forest. Why--I been there myself! You'll be talking about ghosts and such things next. We know what goes on and if there's something wrong, there's someone to put it right."
+Cicoi felt a shudder run through him at the thought of all the wasted
+energy.  He personally knew of several lives that might have been saved
+if he had simply known this energy existed.
 
- He took off his glasses and blinked at them. The sun had gone as if the light had been turned off.
+You would have used it unwisely, the Elder said to him.
 
- He proceeded to explain.
+Cicoi didn't argue, at least out loud.  But if the Elder could read his
+thoughts, as it seemed he could, then the Elder would know that Cicoi
+was losing his patience for all this mystery.
 
- "If you get a pain in your stomach, whether it's a little one or a big one--"
+The Elder flattened himself to fit on the glide path and placed himself
+in front of Cicoi.
 
- "Yours is a big one."
+Come with me.
 
- "When you done laughing perhaps we can get on with the meeting. And if them littluns climb back on the twister again they'll only fall off in a sec. So they might as well sit on the ground and listen. No. You have doctors for everything, even the inside of your mind. You don't really mean that we got to be frightened all the time of nothing? Life," said Piggy expansively, "is scientific, that's what it is. In a year or two when the war's over they'll be traveling to Mars and back. I know there isn't no beast--not with claws and all that, I mean--but I know there isn't no fear, either."
+Cicoi had no choice but to follow.
 
- Piggy paused.
+The glide path led inside a massive cavern, carved out of rock.  Lights
+went on in here, as well, flooding the cavern with light.
 
- "Unless--"
+Cicoi's tentacles waved slightly, mourning the waste of energy.  And
+then he let his tentacles drop.
 
- Ralph moved restlessly.
+Before him were a hundred ships.  Bullet-shaped in the front, like a
+torso with no tentacles, swept back and expanded in the rear.  Clear
+black reflecting material over the nose, and propulsion at the base.
 
- "Unless what?"
+Cicoi had never seen anything like these.
 
- "Unless we get frightened of people."
+As you stand here, the Elder said, your companions to the North and
+Center stand in similar caverns.
 
- A sound, half-laugh, half-jeer, rose among the seated boys. Piggy ducked his head and went on hastily.
+"These aren't harvester ships," Cicoi said.  That was obvious.  They
+were too small and sleek.  They were shaped like
 
- "So let's hear from that littlun who talked about a beast and perhaps we can show him how silly he is."
+Malmuria with their tentacles pointed downward and their eye stalks
+pocketed.  Poised to move as swiftly as possible.
 
- The littluns began to jabber among themselves, then one stood forward.
+No, they are not, the Elder said.
 
- "What's your name?"
+"You built them, obviously," Cicoi said.  "But how come we didn't know
+about them?"
 
- "Phil."
+There has been no need for them.  We have had no enemies.  Until now.
 
- For a littlun he was self-confident, holding out his hands, cradling the conch as Ralph did, looking round at them to collect their attention before he spoke.
+Cicoi shuddered.  He did not think of the creatures on the third planet
+as enemies.  They were obstacles.
 
- "Last night I had a dream, a horrid dream, fighting with things. I was outside the shelter by myself, fighting with things, those twisty things in the trees."
+Or they had been.
 
- He paused, and the other littluns laughed in horrified sympathy.
+The Elder was right.  "Enemy" was the better word.
 
- "Then I was frightened and I woke up. And I was outside the shelter by myself in the dark and the twisty things had gone away."
+"If these aren't harvester ships, what are they for?"  Cicoi asked,
+fearing the answer.
 
- The vivid horror of this, so possible and so nakedly terrifying, held them all silent. The child's voice went piping on from behind the white conch.
+The Elder spun toward him, tentacles flowing freely, as if his answer
+gave him great joy.
 
- "And I was frightened and started to call out for Ralph and then I saw something moving among the trees, something big and horrid."
+They are for war, the Elder said.
 
- He paused, half-frightened by the recollection yet proud of the sensation he was creating.
+"War?"  Cicoi repeated.  He shuddered.  He had heard stories of great
+wars, but had never lived through them.  "Surely we don't have enough
+energy to run a war."
 
- "That was a nightmare," said Ralph. "He was walking in his sleep."
+We have stored it, the Elder said.  His tentacles were still waving. We
+are prepared.  He waved two tentacles toward the ships.  These are more
+powerful than our harvesters.  They are the best ships we have ever
+built.
 
- The assembly murmured in subdued agreement.
+"More powerful than the harvesters?"  Cicoi asked.
 
- The littlun shook his head stubbornly.
+And faster, too.  The Elder's tentacles flowed toward Cicoi.  He had
+read the emotion right.  It was joy.  We shall destroy the creatures on
+the third planet, and they will never, ever know how we did it.
 
- "I was asleep when the twisty things were fighting and when they went away I was awake, and I saw something big and horrid moving in the trees."
+Or why, Cicoi thought.  But he said nothing.  For the first time since
+the last Pass, he felt hope.
 
- Ralph held out his hands for the conch and the littlun sat down.
+May 6, 2018
 
- "You were asleep. There wasn't anyone there. How could anyone be wandering about in the forest at night? Was anyone? Did anyone go out?"
+22:07 Universal Time
 
- There was a long pause while the assembly grinned at the thought of anyone going out in the darkness. Then Simon stood up and Ralph looked at him in astonishment.
+161 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "You! What were you mucking about in the dark for?"
+They were going to fight back.
 
- Simon grabbed the conch convulsively.
+That was all General Gail Banks kept repeating to herself as she stood
+inside the small cubicle that had been assigned to her as an office.
+Initially she had sworn she hadn't needed one.  Now she was glad she
+had it.  The cabin they had given her to bunk in was little more than a
+closet, even though it was top-grade and private.  Here, though--here
+she had room to think.
 
- "I wanted--to go to a place--a place I know."
+And she was thinking about humanity fighting back, destroying the
+aliens that dared attack Earth.  She'd seen pictures of their bodies.
+Information about their ships.  She knew that even though they had the
+dampening screens, the coming attack would work.  Some of the missiles
+would get through.  And all they needed was for some of them to
+explode. It would be enough, she was sure.
 
- "What place?"
+But her job was to make sure the odds were in humanity's favor.
 
- "Just a place I know. A place in the jungle." He hesitated.
+She moved to the porthole in her office that looked out into space. The
+plastic porthole wasn't really a hole at all.  Instead it was a long
+clear section that ran the entire length of the wall.  Through it, she
+could see the missiles that had been launched into orbit, at least part
+of them.
 
- Jack settled the question for them with that contempt in his voice that could sound so funny and so final.
+They glinted against the blackness of space.  All had their internal
+telemetry on, and some had lenses and cameras pointing toward the tenth
+planet, ready and waiting.
 
- "He was taken short."
+Banks spent a lot of time before this window, just staring.  She had
+gotten the station organized.  She had workers on regular schedules,
+she was monitoring the incoming shuttles, she double-checked the orbits
+of incoming missiles before they arrived.  She dealt with the
+recalcitrant permanent staff,
 
- With a feeling of humiliation on Simon's behalf, Ralph took back the conch, looking Simon sternly in the face as he did so.
+the hardworking temporary staff, and longed for her own people.  She
+put in requisition orders and sent messages to Earth, demanding more
+missiles.
 
- "Well, don't do it again. Understand? Not at night. There's enough silly talk about beasts, without the littluns seeing you gliding about like a--"
+About three hundred missiles had arrived and, she was told, that was
+about all she'd get.  A few more here or there might arrive before the
+fight, but probably not.  Maddox had confided that two countries were
+being "somewhat difficult" but that was it.
 
- The derisive laughter that rose had fear in it and condemnation. Simon opened his mouth to speak but Ralph had the conch, so he backed to his seat.
+After that it was up to her and her people.
 
- When the assembly was silent Ralph turned to Piggy.
+From her window, she could see half the missiles at one time, hanging
+in the blackness of space.  They were all cylindrical, but after that,
+the similarities ended.  The most current ones, all of U.S. design,
+were sleek things that looked like they could respond to a whispered
+command with complete accuracy.  Beside them were some ancient rockets
+that were so ungainly, they seemed impossible to move, even in space.
 
- "Well, Piggy?"
+Then, of course, there were the handful of missiles that used to belong
+to the countries that had once formed the Soviet Block.  Banks couldn't
+believe the organizers let some of those antiques lift off.  They'd
+come from the smaller, less powerful countries of Eastern
+Europe--Lithuania, Latvia, and a few others whose names she couldn't
+remember.  Even though the missiles should have been disassembled
+twenty years ago, they suddenly "reappeared" when they were needed to
+defend the Earth.
 
- "There was another one. Him."
+Banks hoped that they wouldn't explode at the wrong time.
 
- The littluns pushed Percival forward, then left him by himself. He stood knee-deep in the central grass, looking at his hidden feet, trying to pretend he was in a tent. Ralph remembered another small boy who had stood like this and he flinched away from the memory. He had pushed the thought down and out of sight, where only some positive reminder like this could bring it to the surface. There had been no further numberings of the littluns, partly because there was no means of insuring that all of them were accounted for and partly because Ralph knew the answer to at least one question Piggy had asked on the mountaintop. There were little boys, fair, dark, freckled, and all dirty, but their faces were all dreadfully free of major blemishes. No one had seen the mulberry-colored birthmark again. But that time Piggy had coaxed and bullied. Tacitly admitting that he remembered the unmentionable, Ralph nodded to Piggy.
+She had workers outside, placing the warheads on top of the missiles.
+It was precise and difficult work, and she had only her best people on
+it.  But the demands of time made it clear that she had to push them.
+She didn't worry about shortcuts-none of the people tethered to those
+rockets, working on the parts, would ever take shortcuts.  But she knew
+what it was like to work under an impossible deadline, to know that the
+fate of everything you knew and loved depended on your success.
 
- "Go on. Ask him."
+She knew that fear drove them--fear and panic and anger-and she knew
+that no matter how hard she tried to reassure them, she wouldn't be
+able to cut through that.  Especially the anger.  All of them wanted
+this work.  All of them wanted to strike back at the aliens.
 
- Piggy knelt, holding the conch.
+The best she could do was push them, but be aware of their needs.  No
+one had less than six hours sleep, fewer than two meals.  No one worked
+two shifts in a row, no matter how much their skills were needed.
 
- "Now then. What's your name?"
+No one cut corners, even if they were sure the corners could be cut.
 
- The small boy twisted away into his tent. Piggy turned helplessly to Ralph, who spoke sharply.
+She had promised Maddox she'd make the impossible deadline, and she
+would.
 
- "What's your name?"
+The missiles were here, hanging in space near the station, and everyone
+said that wouldn't happen.
 
- Tormented by the silence and the refusal the assembly broke into a chant.
+The warheads were here, being put on the missiles, and no one believed
+that would happen, either.
 
- "What's your name? What's your name?"
+The workers were here, some of them finishing their training in a New
+York minute, and the entire senior staff said that couldn't happen.
 
- "Quiet!"
+So far, three small miracles.
 
- Ralph peered at the child in the twilight.
+She hoped those three miracles would equal one giant miracle: stopping
+the aliens cold in their tracks.
 
- "Now tell us. What's your name?"
+She folded her hands behind her back and watched.  Occasionally she saw
+movement as one of her workers, in a white environmental suit, slowly
+moved around the cone of a missile.  Dozens of small shuttles floated
+among and around the missiles, helping with the work.  At least thirty
+people were doing space walks at the moment, and she had thirty more
+taking their eight-hour break--six hours of sleep, plus two
+meals--inside.
 
- "Percival Wemys Madison. The Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony, Hants, telephone, telephone, tele--"
+More people were in space than had ever been here.  Ever, in human
+history.
 
- As if this information was rooted far down in the springs of sorrow, the littlun wept. His face puckered, the tears leapt from his eyes, his mouth opened till they could see a square black hole. At first he was a silent effigy of sorrow; but then the lamentation rose out of him, loud and sustained as the conch.
+Once she would have been proud of that.  Once she would have been happy
+to command such a force.  Once she
 
- "Shut up, you! Shut up!"
+would have used that fact as a major point in her military resume, a
+case to be made for yet another star.
 
- Percival Wemys Madison would not shut up. A spring had been tapped, far beyond the reach of authority or even physical intimidation. The crying went on, breath after breath, and seemed to sustain him upright as if he were nailed to it.
+But she wouldn't speak of it.  She had a hunch that fact would be
+forgotten in a very short time.
 
- "Shut up! Shut up!"
+Once the missiles were launched.
 
- For now the littluns were no longer silent. They were reminded of their personal sorrows; and perhaps felt themselves to share in a sorrow that was universal. They began to cry in sympathy, two of them almost as loud as Percival.
+Once the codes were activated.
 
- Maurice saved them. He cried out.
+Once the warheads exploded.
 
- "Look at me!"
+Right now, this mission was Earth's best hope.
 
- He pretended to fall over. He rubbed his rump and sat on the twister so that he fell in the grass. He downed badly; but Percival and the others noticed and sniffed and laughed. Presently they were all laughing so absurdly that the biguns joined in.
+Earth was fighting back and it was up to her to make sure the attack
+worked.
 
- Jack was the first to make himself heard. He had not got the conch and thus spoke against the rules; but nobody minded.
+Section Two
 
- "And what about the beast?"
+WAR
 
- Something strange was happening to Percival. He yawned and staggered, so that Jack seized and shook him.
+6
 
- "Where does the beast live?"
+May 20, 2018
 
- Percival sagged in Jack's grip.
+8:01 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- "That's a clever beast," said Piggy, jeering, "if it can hide on this island."
+147 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Jack's been everywhere--"
+Again, when entering the Oval Office, the first thing Mickelson noted
+was the faint smell of mold, covered by the cleaning fluids and
+furniture polish.  But it was still there, just under the surface,
+waiting for the heat of the summer to bring it out into full bloom.
 
- "Where could a beast live?"
+He was the first to arrive.  Timeliness, which served him so well
+overseas, was a curse here.  It meant he would have to wait alone, in a
+room he had never thought he'd find himself in ten years before.
 
- "Beast my foot!"
+Mickelson took his usual place on the white couch nearest the main
+door.  Long ago, Franklin had told him to make himself comfortable no
+matter when he came into the room.  Franklin hated walking into his
+office to find his Cabinet members standing on the blue rug like
+children waiting to be told to sit down.
 
- Percival muttered something and the assembly laughed again. Ralph leaned forward.
+"You're running this meeting?"
 
- "What does he say?"
+Mickelson started, and turned slightly.  General Clarissa Maddox had
+entered the room.  She was in full uniform-all five stars glistening on
+her broad shoulders--and she seemed to be in a take-no-prisoners mood.
+But there were
 
- Jack listened to Percival's answer and then let go of him. Percival, released, surrounded by the comfortable presence of humans, fell in the long grass and went to sleep.
+shadows under her eyes, and new lines around her mouth that Mickelson
+had never seen before.
 
- Jack cleared his throat, then reported casually.
+"If I were, we wouldn't be meeting in here," Mickelson said.
 
- "He says the beast comes out of the sea."
+Maddox sank onto the couch beside him.  The cushion didn't sag as much
+as he thought it would.  It always surprised him how she could look so
+powerful and be so slight at the same time.
 
- The last laugh died away. Ralph turned involuntarily, a black, humped figure against the lagoon. The assembly looked with him, considered the vast stretches of water, the high sea beyond, unknown indigo of infinite possibility, heard silently the sough and whisper from the reef.
+"I've got so much to do," she said, so low that only he could barely
+hear her.  "I hope he doesn't make us sit here for an hour like the
+last time."
 
- Maurice spoke, so loudly that they jumped.
+"The last time he got a call from Britain's prime minister.  He
+couldn't exactly blow it off," Mickelson said.  He hadn't been able to
+tell anyone during that last meeting what was going on.  But now he
+could. A lot had come out of the call.  And it seemed like months ago,
+instead of just ten days.  Strange how time slowed when every minute of
+every hour was being used.
 
- "Daddy said they haven't found all the animals in the sea yet."
+"I suppose not."  Maddox looked at him sideways.  "Do you even know
+what time zone you're in?"
 
- Argument started again. Ralph held out the glimmering conch and Maurice took it obediently. The meeting subsided.
+Mickelson grinned.  "Lessee.  A round room, lots of blue, gold, and
+white decor, and oh yeah, an American flag behind the desk.  Must be
+Washington, which puts me in Eastern Daylight officially."
 
- "I mean when Jack says you can be frightened because people are frightened anyway that's all right. But when he says there's only pigs on this island I expect he's right but he doesn't know, not really, not certainly I mean--" Maurice took a breath. "My daddy says there's things, what d'you call'em that make ink--squids--that are hundreds of yards long and eat whales whole." He paused again and laughed gaily. "I don't believe in the beast of course. As Piggy says, life's scientific, but we don't know, do we? Not certainly, I mean--"
+"And unofficially?"
 
- Someone shouted.
+"I think I'm still working on strict Greenwich Mean."
 
- "A squid couldn't come up out of the water!"
+"Your last stop was England?"
 
- "Could!"
+"I hope so," Mickelson said, "or that rather shy man I was referring to
+as Your Royal Highness was too polite to tell me I should have been
+calling him something else."
 
- "Couldn't!"
+Maddox laughed.  "If he was too polite to say anything, you were either
+in England or Minnesota."
 
- In a moment the platform was full of arguing, gesticulating shadows. To Ralph, seated, this seemed the breaking up of sanity. Fear, beasts, no general agreement that the fire was all-important: and when one tried to get the thing straight the argument sheered off, bringing up fresh, unpleasant matter.
+"What about Minnesota?"  Shamus O'Grady, the president's national
+security adviser, sat down across from them.  He was a slender redhead
+with hazel eyes.  His light skin, which
 
- He could see a whiteness in the gloom near him so he grabbed it from Maurice and blew as loudly as he could. The assembly was shocked into silence. Simon was close to him, laying hands on the conch. Simon felt a perilous necessity to speak; but to speak in assembly was a terrible thing to him.
+he never allowed in the sun, gave him a more youthful appearance than
+he deserved.  It also showed every line, every mark of fatigue.  And
+there were dozens of them.  If everyone else on the president's team
+looked this tired, Mickelson thought, he wondered how bad he looked as
+well.
 
- "Maybe," he said hesitantly, "maybe there is a beast."
+"Just saying that the folks there are polite," Maddox said.
 
- The assembly cried out savagely and Ralph stood up in amazement.
+"Wow," O'Grady said.  "Are we talking about regional customs?  Because
+I know a few that might shock you."
 
- "You, Simon? You believe in this?"
+"I doubt you do," Maddox said.
 
- "I don't know," said Simon. His heartbeats were choking him. "But. . . ."
+Mickelson held up a hand.  He'd been in this conversation with these
+two before.  They had a sort of one-upmanship going that he found
+amusing most of the time, and disgusting the rest.  He once told them
+that it seemed as if they brought out the high school in each other, or
+maybe even the middle school.  It was as if gross-out humor were the
+highest form they could aspire to.
 
- The storm broke.
+"Let's not go there," he said.  "It probably won't shock General
+Maddox, but it'll shock me.  Think of me as though I'm as naive as your
+twelve-year-old son, O'Grady."
 
- "Sit down!"
+"Then nothing'll shock you, Mickelson," O'Grady said.
 
- "Shut up!"
+"We're playing that game again?"  President Franklin walked into the
+room.  Everyone stood.  He waved them back down.  "The last time you
+played it, I walked in to hear my staff discussing which was more
+disgusting, eating monkey brains or goat brains.  And if I remember
+correctly, it was you, Doug, who actually had an opinion."
 
- "Take the conch!"
+"I was just trying to shut them up, sir."
 
- "Sod you!"
+"Well, it seemed like encouragement to me."  President Franklin sat
+down in the armchair.  He was a slight man who had his mother's button
+eyes and mobile mouth.  His dark hair fell across his forehead
+naturally, and that, combined with his incredible personal charm and
+aquiline nose--apparently the only thing he'd inherited from his
+father--got him voted People Magazine On-Line's Sexiest Man in America
+in 2016, the year of his successful reelection campaign.
 
- "Shut up!"
+"I'm sorry, sir," Mickelson said with mock humility.  "I won't do it
+again, sir."
 
- Ralph shouted.
+"See that you don't," Franklin said, his black eyes twinkling.  "I
+chance upon too many of these conversations as it is."
 
- "Hear him! He's got the conch!"
+Maddox's cheeks were slightly rosy, and O'Grady's neck was flushed.
+Mickelson suppressed a smile.  Franklin could embarrass them any
+time.
 
- "What I mean is . . . maybe it's only us."
+Of course, he could embarrass Mickelson, too.  Franklin had a wicked
+sense of humor, and it was so dry that most people rarely caught it.
+His staff usually caught the blunt end of it, and Franklin liked
+nothing more than to razz people who gave him the opportunity.
 
- "Nuts!"
+He leaned back in the armchair and seemed to gather himself.  Franklin
+had looked exhausted since the day of his inauguration, and Mickelson
+thought that a good sign.  In all his years in Washington, Mickelson
+noted that there were two kinds of presidents--those who aged five
+years for each year they were in office and those who looked the same
+when they emerged as they had on the day they entered.  Or, as
+Mickelson once put it to Cross, there were those presidents who haunted
+the hallways at night and those who slept like babies.
 
- That was from Piggy, shocked out of decorum. Simon went on.
+Mickelson preferred to work for the ones who aged and didn't sleep.
+They were the ones who were in office to do some good, not because
+they'd reached the political Holy Grail.
 
- "We could be sort of. . . ."
+"All right," Franklin said.  "I guess we'd better do this.  You've got
+the ball, Doug.  How do we stand?"
 
- Simon became inarticulate in his effort to express mankind's essential illness. Inspiration came to him.
+Mickelson straightened, as if his posture suddenly made a difference.
+The last ten days had felt like ten years.  He'd hit most of the major
+nations, inspecting their weapons, their military, their production
+facilities, talking with their leaders about the best methods to
+approach the next attack by the aliens.
 
- "What's the dirtiest thing there is?"
+When he was visiting the USs traditional allies, he had little
+trouble.  Britain welcomed him with open arms.  But in countries with
+which the U.S. had shaky relations, or a history of bad relations,
+Mickelson also had to have meetings in which he reassured the
+countries' leaders that cooperation didn't mean a loss of
+sovereignty.
 
- As an answer Jack dropped into the uncomprehending silence that followed it the one crude expressive syllable. Release was immense. Those littluns who had climbed back on the twister fell off again and did not mind. The hunters were screaming with delight.
+Mickelson's argument had been simple: this was a global threat, and it
+needed global leadership.  The United States was the logical choice.
 
- Simon's effort fell about him in ruins; the laughter beat him cruelly and he shrank away defenseless to his seat.
+China's leaders had argued for a UN-led effort, which would have made
+sense fifteen years before.  But the last two U.N.-led efforts had
+dissolved into infighting and slow movement.  Mickelson argued,
+parroting Franklin's words, that slow movement in this case would be
+deadly.
 
- At last the assembly was silent again. Someone spoke out of turn.
+China really didn't need much more convincing.  And since the entire
+argument hadn't taken longer than lunch, Mickelson suspected the entire
+interchange was intended only to save face.
 
- "Maybe he means it's some sort of ghost."
+"I spent most of my time touring military facilities," Mickelson said,
+"and talking to each country's leadership about the best methods to
+proceed.  Everyone seems to understand the need for speedy action. Even
+China."
 
- Ralph lifted the conch and peered into the gloom. The lightest thing was the pale beach. Surely the littluns were nearer? Yes--there was no doubt about it, they were huddled into a tight knot of bodies in the central grass. A flurry of wind made the palms talk and the noise seemed very loud now that darkness and silence made it so noticeable. Two grey trunks rubbed each other with an evil speaking that no one had noticed by day.
+Maddox made a soft sound and leaned back on the couch.  "They're going
+to cooperate?"
 
- Piggy took the conch out of his hands. His voice was indignant.
+Mickelson nodded.  "It took very little persuasion on my part."
+
+"So they think the world's going to end," O'Grady said.
 
- "I don't believe in no ghosts--ever!"
+Mickelson smiled.  He'd had the same thought.  In fact, before he left
+he'd said to Franklin that it would be a cold day in hell before China
+cooperated.  Apparently that long-predicted cold day had finally
+arrived.
 
- Jack was up too, unaccountably angry.
+"I saw weapons facilities and military outposts that we've been trying
+to get into for years," Mickelson said.
 
- "Who cares what you believe--Fatty!"
+"I need a full debrief," Maddox said.
 
- "I got the conch!"
+Mickelson nodded as Franklin grinned.  Franklin had warned Mickelson of
+that the night before.  "You'll get it," Mickelson
 
- There was the sound of a brief tussle and the conch moved to and fro.
+said.  "Although you might get more out of Lieutenant Rogers.  She, at
+least, knows more of what she was looking at."
 
- "You gimme the conch back!"
+"I didn't realize you'd taken her as your aide," O'Grady said.
 
- Ralph pushed between them and got a thump on the chest. He wrestled the conch from someone and sat down breathlessly.
+"With the president's permission."
 
- "There's too much talk about ghosts. We ought to have left all this for daylight."
+"But not mine," Maddox said.  "They're taking all my best people for
+these political tasks, when I need them onboard for military work."
 
- A hushed and anonymous voice broke in.
+"This is military work, Clarissa," Franklin said without a trace of
+irritation.  That was more than Mickelson could have done.  Maddox
+simply had no comprehension of diplomacy.
 
- "Perhaps that's what the beast is--a ghost."
+"Forgive me, sir," Maddox said.  "But that's not military work.  You
+could have sent a flack with Doug.  But to send a perfectly good
+officer, that's bullshit and you know it."
 
- The assembly was shaken as by a wind.
+Mickelson thought he saw a smile play around Franklin's lips, but he
+couldn't be certain.  "Was it bullshit, Doug?  Could you have used a
+flack?"
 
- "There's too much talking out of turn," Ralph said, "because we can't have proper assemblies if you don't stick to the rules."
+Mickelson suppressed a sigh.  Meetings should be banned, and yet the
+government thrived on them.  "No," Mickelson said.  "Lieutenant Rogers
+had some valuable insights that I don't think I would have gotten
+without her along."
 
- He stopped again. The careful plan of this assembly had broken down.
+"Such as?"  Maddox said.
 
- "What d'you want me to say then? I was wrong to call this assembly so late. We'll have a vote on them; on ghosts I mean; and then go to the shelters because we're all tired. No--Jack is it?--wait a minute. I'll say here and now that I don't believe in ghosts. Or I don't think I do. But I don't like the thought of them. Not now that is, in the dark. But we were going to decide what's what."
+"Such as," Mickelson said, struggling to keep the irritation from his
+voice, "the fact that much of the First World's military might is very
+out-of-date.  We haven't had much more than border skirmishes since the
+turn of the century.  The last significant worldwide military buildup
+was during Kosovo, and the last great one was during the Cold War.  I
+saw missile silos in Russia that had completely rusted out.  Most of
+this world, to put it flatly, isn't in shape to fight the aliens if we
+let them get back here."
 
- He raised the conch for a moment.
+O'Grady leaned forward.  "Then this is terrible news.  The plan won't
+work without functioning warheads."
 
- "Very well then. I suppose what's what is whether there are ghosts or not--"
+"We almost have enough warheads in orbit now to do the job," Franklin
+said.
 
- He thought for a moment, formulating the question.
+Doug sat in stunned silence.  He had no idea the launches had gone so
+fast.
 
- "Who thinks there may be ghosts?"
+"But we can always use more," Maddox said.  "And we need to have
+everyone ready to fight in case our first plan fails.  We've known for
+a decade about the world's aging military-industrial complex.  We even
+have a scenario on what to do if some of the oldest equipment
+malfunctions and starts a war."
 
- For a long time there was silence and no apparent movement. Then Ralph peered into the gloom and made out the hands. He spoke flatly.
+Franklin spoke softly.  "Granted, we knew about this.  Mickelson's
+junket only confirmed it.  In fact, the news about the Chinese is good.
+We hadn't counted on them."
 
- "I see."
+"They really must think the end of the world is near," Maddox
+mumbled.
 
- The world, that understandable and lawful world, was slipping away. Once there was this and that; and now-- and the ship had gone.
+"I think they do," Franklin said.  He was looking at her.  "I think
+we'd all be fools not to consider that."
 
- The conch was snatched from his hands and Piggy's voice shrilled.
+"Aging warheads?  Come on, Mr.  President.  We can't send ancient
+warheads to the ISS."  O'Grady had shifted in his seat.
 
- "I didn't vote for no ghosts!"
+"We already have.  And we'll send more, if we need to," Franklin
+said.
 
- He whirled round on the assembly.
+"We have more than we planned on," Mickelson said.  "We have full
+Chinese cooperation.  Russia has been maintaining its weapons
+production--at lower rates than fifty years ago, but nonetheless, they
+have some up-to-date equipment.  So do the Saudis and the Israelis, and
+most of Southeast Asia.  Japan is the only country that's a bit farther
+behind than we expected.  Even Germany is going to contribute more than
+we had planned on.  The aging warheads do exist, but they're going to
+be our last-ditch effort if, and this is a big if, we don't have time
+to step up production worldwide."
 
- "Remember that, all of you!"
+"You think we can?"  Maddox asked.
 
- They heard him stamp.
+Mickelson nodded.  "That was the most encouraging news I got from this
+entire trip.  A lot of factories can be converted quickly to military
+supplies and weapons productions.  I'm gathering our biggest problem
+worldwide isn't going to
 
- "What are we? Humans? Or animals? Or savages? What's grownups going to think? Going off--hunting pigs--letting fires out--and now!"
+be weapons or equipment or production.  It's going to be manpower."
 
- A shadow fronted him tempestuously.
+"And getting through the alien screens to use the weapons," Maddox
+said.
 
- "You shut up, you fat slug!"
+No one said anything to that.
 
- There was a moment's struggle and the glimmering conch jigged up and down. Ralph leapt to his feet.
+"I don't completely agree with the manpower problem," O'Grady said. "We
+have satellite photos showing almost every nation on Earth has fully
+deployed its military.  If anyone is behind the eight ball, it's us. 
+We haven't deployed enough."
 
- "Jack! Jack! You haven't got the conch! Let him speak."
+"We've explained that, Shamus," Maddox said.
 
- Jack's face swam near him.
+"It's making me nervous, Clarissa."
 
- "And you shut up! Who are you, anyway? Sitting there telling people what to do. You can't hunt, you can't sing--"
+The whole thing made everyone nervous, but Mickelson didn't say that.
 
- "I'm chief. I was chosen."
+"The problem isn't numbers," Mickelson said.  "It's talent.  We need
+astronauts and shuttle pilots and ground control crews.  We need very
+specialized talent to fight this war, and it's precisely the kind of
+talent we haven't trained.  And not just us.  The Japanese and the
+Russians are the only other countries with a significant number of
+trained astronauts and pilots.  The rest of the world didn't have the
+money or the time to pursue a space program like we did."
 
- "Why should choosing make any difference? Just giving orders that don't make any sense--"
+"Exactly," Franklin said.  "If our attack doesn't work, the coming war
+with the aliens isn't going to be fought on the ground.  It's going to
+be fought in the air and in space."
 
- "Piggy's got the conch."
+"The Australians have something."
 
- "That's right--favor Piggy as you always do--"
+"The Brits have something, the French have something, the Germans have
+something, even Israel has something," Mickelson said.  "But something
+isn't enough."
 
- "Jack!"
+"I've already got my people changing the focus of training," Maddox
+said.  "They think they can find candidates and train them to operate
+in zero g within six months."
 
- Jack's voice sounded in bitter mimicry.
+"That's a short time frame," Franklin said.
 
- "Jack! Jack!"
+"It's more than what we've got, sir," Maddox said.
 
- "The rules!" shouted Ralph. "You're breaking the rules!"
+Her words hung in the air for a moment.  Then Franklinleaned back and
+templed his fingers.  "The question is, Doug, whether or not the other
+countries are with us."
 
- "Who cares?"
+"If they have the capability to build a warhead, they have the
+capability to send it into space," Mickelson said.  "I've got to tell
+you, I didn't expect that, and that turned out to be good news.  A lot
+of countries can convert the system they use to launch satellites to
+get the warheads to the ISS.  We'll have some accidents, but a small
+number is to be expected.  We can be ready for a second wave of attack
+if we need it."
 
- Ralph summoned his wits.
+"You're kidding," O'Grady said.
 
- "Because the rules are the only thing we've got!"
+Mickelson shook his head.  "The best part of this junket was that I
+learned that any functional transport that can get a payload into low
+Earth orbit is being used.  A lot of countries have commandeered their
+private industries' transports as well.  As we're sitting here, atomic
+warheads are being launched into space from all the countries that have
+them.  This is the biggest mass deployment of nuclear weaponry in human
+history."
 
- But Jack was shouting against him.
+O'Grady shuddered.  "At least it's not being deployed against human
+beings," he said softly.
 
- "Bollocks to the rules! We're strong--we hunt! If there's a beast, we'll hunt it down! We'll close in and beat and beat and beat--!"
+Franklin tapped his fingertips against his lips.  It was almost as if
+that comment displeased him--not for its sentiment, Mickelson knew
+Franklin agreed with that, but for the interruption it caused in the
+flow of the session.
 
- He gave a wild whoop and leapt down to the pale sand. At once the platform was full of noise and excitement, scramblings, screams and laughter. The assembly shredded away and became a discursive and random scatter from the palms to the water and away along the beach, beyond night-sight. Ralph found his cheek touching the conch and took it from Piggy.
+Franklin let his hands drop.  "All right, General.  We know what our
+allies are doing--"
 
- "What's grownups going to say?" cried Piggy again. "Look at 'em!"
+Mickelson winced at the word "allies."  Many of the countries he
+visited weren't really allies at all.  He had a sense this was like
+World War II: incompatible governments uniting against a common cause.
+If that cause went away, all hell would break loose.
 
- The sound of mock hunting, hysterical laughter and real terror came from the beach.
+"--so now I want to know what we're doing.  How're those attack rockets
+coming?"
 
- "Blow the conch, Ralph."
+"Better than can be expected," Maddox said.  "We'll have enough boost
+power to get every warhead we have in orbit to its target."
 
- Piggy was so close that Ralph could see the glint of his one glass.
+"Excellent."  Franklin truly sounded pleased.  "And the work on the
+International Space Station?"
 
- "There's the fire. Can't they see?"
+"General Banks is there and--"
 
- "You got to be tough now. Make 'em do what you want."
+"Banks?"  O'Grady said.  "The one who testified before Congress?"
 
- Ralph answered in the cautious voice of one who rehearses a theorem.
+Maddox leaned forward, her face inches from O'Grady's.  "She got
+busted, mister, because she was too competent.  And frankly, I would
+rather have someone who is too competent, who demands too much of our
+people, on that space station than one who believes in coddling
+everyone. Wouldn't you?"
 
- "If I blow the conch and they don't come back; then we've had it. We shan't keep the fire going. We'll be like animals. We'll never be rescued."
+Mickelson moved out of the way.  He'd never seen Maddox in her
+professional soldier mode.  She was tough and hard.  He was
+impressed.
 
- "If you don't blow, we'll soon be animals anyway. I can't see what they're doing but I can hear."
+"Well," O'Grady said.  "When you put it that way..."
 
- The dispersed figures had come together on the sand and were a dense black mass that revolved. They were chanting something and littluns that had had enough were staggering away, howling. Ralph raised the conch to his lips and then lowered it.
+"There's no other way to put it," Maddox snapped.  "There's government
+and then there's the military.  We're at least efficient."
 
- "The trouble is: Are there ghosts, Piggy? Or beasts?"
+"Ouch," Franklin said.
 
- "Course there aren't."
+Maddox sat up.  "Sorry, sir."
 
- "Why not?"
+Franklin shook his head.  "It's a point well taken.  We need competent
+efficient people, folks who can get the job done.  You're exactly
+right, General.  If we have any chance of success against those aliens,
+we have to be operating at peak efficiency, not just in this country,
+but all over the world."
 
- "'Cos things wouldn't make sense. Houses an' streets, an'--TV--they wouldn't work."
+That was Mickelson's cue.  "I think it can be done," he said.  "And
+most every country will be looking to us to coordinate things."
 
- The dancing, chanting boys had worked themselves away till their sound was nothing but a wordless rhythm.
+"To lead," O'Grady said.
 
- "But s'pose they don't make sense? Not here, on this island? Supposing things are watching us and waiting?"
+Mickelson smiled.  "In effect, yes.  But don't tell them that."
 
- Ralph shuddered violently and moved closer to Piggy, so that they bumped frighteningly.
+"They're not dumb, Doug."
 
- "You stop talking like that! We got enough trouble, Ralph, an' I've had as much as I can stand. If there is ghosts--''
+"I know," Mickelson said.  "But in diplomacy, a polite lie gets a lot
+more accomplished than the bold truth."
 
- "I ought to give up being chief. Hear 'em."
+Franklin nodded.  "We're close, then.  All the details are in place.  I
+don't want to hear about leaks from anyone's office.  And I want no
+statements made to the press.  They're going to
 
- "Oh lord! Oh no!"
+notice all the activity, and there will be questions, but a good
+old-fashioned 'no comment' will work.  I want to be the one to make the
+announcement."
 
- Piggy gripped Ralph's arm.
+"All right," Maddox said.
 
- "If Jack was chief he'd have all hunting and no fire. We'd be here till we died."
+"The less I talk to the press, the happier I am," O'Grady said.
 
- His voice ran up to a squeak.
+"I already told the heads of state I met with that you'd make the
+announcement when the time was right."
 
- "Who's that sitting there?"
+"I take it they had no problem with that," Franklin said.
 
- "Me.Simon."
+"If they did," Mickelson said, "I would have told you."
 
- "Fat lot of good we are," said Ralph. "Three blind mice. I'll give up."
+"Good."  Franklin sighed.  He looked at every one of them, holding each
+gaze for several seconds.  It was an old political trick, designed to
+make the person feel as if he were friends with the person in charge.
+Mickelson knew that and was usually immune when other people did it to
+him.  But when Franklin's gaze caught his, he felt absurdly flattered
+and mentally shook his head at himself.
 
- "If you give up," said Piggy, in an appalled whisper, "what 'ud happen to me?"
+This was why he was sitting here, now, handling a crisis he wouldn't
+even have been able to imagine two years before.  This was why he
+accepted Franklin's offer to become secretary of state, why he put
+himself on the line.  He trusted Franklin, as much as someone could
+trust a man who desired to become president.  He knew Franklin was one
+of the smartest, most committed policy men to ever hold office.
 
- "Nothing."
+But Mickelson wasn't sure policy was what was needed now.  He wasn't
+sure Franklin would prove himself to be a good wartime commander in
+chief.
 
- "He hates me. I dunno why. If he could do what he wanted--you're all right, he respects you. Besides--you'd hit him."
+Yet Mickelson had gone all over the world, making certain that Franklin
+would metaphorically lead the troops into battle.  He hoped that this
+was the right choice.  Other world leaders had more charisma.  Several
+others were smarter.  But none of them led the most powerful nation in
+the world.
 
- "You were having a nice fight with him just now."
+Mickelson wondered if Franklin knew how much of the fate of the world
+rested on his shoulders.  He seemed more focused than he had ever been,
+and that was saying something.
 
- "I had the conch," said Piggy simply. "I had a right to speak."
+But being focused and being the right man in the right spot at the
+right time were two different things.
 
- Simon stirred in the dark.
+A lot rested on Franklin's speech.  Mickelson hoped that when the time
+came, Franklin could pull it off.
 
- "Go on being chief."
+May 24, 2018
 
- "You shut up, young Simon! Why couldn't you say there wasn't a beast?"
+12:57 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- "I'm scared of him," said Piggy, "and that's why I know him. If you're scared of someone you hate him but you can't stop thinking about him. You kid yourself he's all right really, an' then when you see him again; it's like asthma an' you can't breathe. I tell you what. He hates you too, Ralph--"
+143 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Me? Why me?"
+Britt Archer's cat Muffin hated Leo Cross.  From the first time he had
+come to Archer's apartment, Cross had had to contend with the small,
+gray tabby with the face of an angel and the temper of a lion.  Any
+time he got close to Britt, the cat tried to bat him away.  He didn't
+have this problem with Britt's other cat, Clyde.  Clyde seemed to know
+that they were both guys, and as such, had to bond.  But sometimes,
+Cross was afraid that Muffin would slice him up in his sleep.
 
- "I dunno. You got him over the fire; an' you're chief an' he isn't."
+Britt's large two-bedroom apartment was close to her job at STScI. Even
+though she'd been at the job for nearly ten years, she'd never bought a
+house, because she'd always believed she'd have to move for her work. 
+So far, that hadn't happened, but, Britt said, the moment she bought
+something, it would.
 
- "But he's, he's, Jack Merridew!"
+Cross loved the apartment.  It had bay windows with a view of the
+tree-lined street, lots of light, and a functional design.  Its only
+flaw was the kitchen, and since Britt didn't cook, that meant that she
+only had to squeeze herself into its dark and cramped quarters twice a
+day--once to pour cereal in the morning, and the other time to feed the
+cats at night.
 
- "I been in bed so much I done some thinking. I know about people. I know about me. And him. He can't hurt you: but if you stand out of the way he'd hurt the next thing. And that's me."
+However, Muffin thought the kitchen was her domain, and whenever Cross
+padded in there, as he had now, she attacked his ankles.  He was
+careful to wear shoes and socks any time he headed in this direction.
+He'd once said to Britt it was like the cat believed he'd die if she
+cut him off at the feet.
 
- "Piggy's right, Ralph. There's you and Jack. Go on being chief."
+Britt found all of this cute and funny, but Cross looked on it as a
+war in miniature.  He was trying to get along with this alien being
+that Britt had brought into her house.  So far, things weren't going
+well.  At least he had Clyde.
 
- "We're all drifting and things are going rotten. At home there was always a grownup. Please, sir, please, miss; and then you got an answer. How I wish!"
+Britt was in her bedroom, getting dressed.  She rarely wore makeup and
+never fussed with her hair, but for her, getting dressed took much
+longer than it should have.  Cross finally figured out why.  She
+dithered over what to wear, so much so that she often tried on three or
+four separate outfits before picking the outfit of the day.  When Cross
+finally asked what the reason for the dithering was--expecting some
+sort of cliched female thing, like she had to make certain she looked
+perfect--he was surprised by the answer.
 
- "I wish my auntie was here."
+It seemed that the brilliant and competent Britt Archer was confounded
+by the weather.
 
- "I wish my father. . . Oh, what's the use?"
+She listened to the weather reports as if they were gospel, then tried
+to dress accordingly.  She worried that she would be too hot or too
+cold, wearing too many layers or not enough.
 
- "Keep the fire going."
+Cross had learned, in the few months of their relationship, to offer no
+opinions about this morning ritual.  It didn't piss Britt off, but it
+did make her try on at least two more outfits before she decided what
+to wear.
 
- The dance was over and the hunters were going back to the shelters.
+Since they had yet another Tenth Planet Project meeting this morning,
+he had to get Britt going on time.
 
- "Grownups know things," said Piggy. "They ain't afraid of the dark. They'd meet and have tea and discuss. Then things 'ud be all right--"
+He'd actually bought donuts the night before, knowing that getting out
+of the apartment would be a problem.  He'd tried to talk her into
+staying at his house, which was closer, but Britt had had a mountain of
+work to finish, and she hadn't wanted to make the drive that late at
+night.  Cross understood.  He could be flexible, and often was, and
+decided that staying here was the better part of valor.
 
- "They wouldn't set fire to the island. Or lose--"
+Even if he had to fight with Muffin.
 
- "They'd build a ship--"
+She was crouched in the corner of the kitchen, her tail switching back
+and forth, her eyes slits.  Of course, she was
 
- The three boys stood in the darkness, striving unsuccessfully to convey the majesty of adult life.
+right beneath the part of the counter where the coffeemaker lived.
 
- "They wouldn't quarrel--"
+If Britt didn't have her caffeine in the morning, she was no good to
+anyone.  Cross was about to make the dangerous trek to the coffeemaker,
+when the doorbell rang.
 
- "Or break my specs--"
+Britt cursed from the bedroom.
 
- "Or talk about a beast--"
+"I got it," Cross said, and gladly left the wilds of the kitchen.  He
+had to step over Clyde, who was sprawled on the fake Oriental carpet
+that was the living room's centerpiece, before opening the door.
 
- "If only they could get a message to us," cried Ralph desperately. "If only they could send us something grownup. . . a sign or something."
+Portia Groopman stood in front of it, her dark hair mussed, its oblong
+cut growing out unevenly.  She had a monkey on her back--a stuffed
+white monkey with long arms and equally long legs.  They had Velcro on
+the palms so that the hands looked like they were clasped together.
 
- A thin wail out of the darkness chilled them and set them grabbing for each other. Then the wail rose, remote and unearthly,' and turned to an inarticulate gibbering. Percival Wemys Madison, of the Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony, lying in the long grass, was living through circumstances in which the incantation of his address was powerless to help him.
+"Oh, good, Dr.  Cross.  I caught you."
 
- 
+He blushed.  For a brief moment, he felt like he was still in high
+school and had been caught doing something he shouldn't.  "How'd you
+know I'd be here?"  he asked.  Most folks knew about him and Britt, but
+they had never made a big deal about it.
 
- 
+"Edwin," she said.
 
- CHAPTER SIX Beast from Air
+Bradshaw.  The eternal matchmaker and gossip.  Cross nodded.  "Is
+something wrong?"
 
- 
+"I got a wild hair," Portia said.
 
- There was no light left save that of the stars. When they had understood what made this ghostly noise and Percival was quiet again, Ralph and Simon picked him up unhandily and carried him to a shelter. Piggy hung about near for all his brave words, and the three bigger boys went together to the next shelter. They lay restlessly and noisily among the dry leaves, watching the patch of stars that was the opening toward the lagoon. Sometimes a littlun cried out from the other shelters and once a bigun spoke in the dark. Then they too fell asleep.
+Cross frowned.
 
- A sliver of moon rose over the horizon, hardly large enough to make a path of light even when it sat right down on the water; but there were other lights in the sky, that moved fast, winked, or went out, though not even a faint popping came down from the battle fought at ten miles' height. But a sign came down from the world of grownups, though at the time there was no child awake to read it. There was a sudden bright explosion and corkscrew trail across the sky; then darkness again and stars. There was a speck above the island, a figure dropping swiftly beneath a parachute, a figure that hung with dangling limbs. The changing winds of various altitudes took the figure where they would. Then, three miles up, the wind steadied and bore it in a descending curve round the sky and swept it in a great slant across the reef and the lagoon toward the mountain. The figure fell and crumpled among the blue flowers of the mountain-side, but now there was a gentle breeze at this height too and the parachute flopped and banged and pulled. So the figure, with feet that dragged behind it, slid up the mountain. Yard by yard, puff by puff, the breeze hauled the figure through the blue flowers, over the boulders and red stones, till it lay huddled among the shattered rocks of the mountain-top. Here the breeze was fitful and allowed the strings of the parachute to tangle and festoon; and the figure sat, its helmeted head between its knees, held by a complication of lines. When the breeze blew, the lines would strain taut and some accident of this pull lifted the head and chest upright so that the figure seemed to peer across the brow of the mountain. Then, each time the wind dropped, the lines would slacken and the figure bow forward again, sinking its head between its knees. So as the stars moved across the sky, the figure sat on the mountain-top and bowed and sank and bowed again.
+"An idea" Portia said as if he were dumber than a post.  "Can I come
+in?"
 
- In the darkness of early morning there were noises by a rock a little way down the side of the mountain. Two boys rolled out a pile of brushwood and dead leaves, two dim shadows talking sleepily to each other. They were the twins, on duty at the fire. In theory one should have been asleep and one on watch. But they could never manage to do things sensibly if that meant acting independently, and since staying awake all night was impossible, they had both gone to sleep. Now they approached the darker smudge that had been the signal fire, yawning, rubbing their eyes, treading with practiced feet. When they reached it they stopped yawning, and one ran quickly back for brushwood and leaves.
+"Oh, sure."  He stepped away from the door.
 
- The other knelt down.
+She entered the apartment, looked at the books and the computers and
+the ivy crawling its way across the ceiling, and said, "Nifterino--Dr.
+Archer knows how to live."
 
- "I believe it's out."
+"I'll tell her that she has your seal of approval," Cross said dryly,
+but Portia didn't seem to hear.  She had already crouched on the rug,
+and was petting Clyde's stomach.  Clyde's front
 
- He fiddled with the sticks that were pushed into his hands.
+paws were kneading the air and he was purring so loudly, Cross thought
+the cat might make himself sick.
 
- "No."
+Muffin was watching the entire display from the entrance to the
+kitchen.  She looked as disgusted as a cat possibly could.
 
- He lay down and put his lips close to the smudge and blew soffly. His face appeared, lit redly. He stopped blowing for a moment.
+It was probably his only chance to get to the coffeemaker.
 
- "Sam--give us--"
+"I was about to make some coffee.  Want some?"
 
- "--tinder wood."
+"Sure," Portia said.
 
- Eric bent down and blew softly again till the patch was bright. Sam poked the piece of tinder wood into the hot spot, then a branch. The glow increased and the branch took fire. Sam piled on more branches.
+Cross slipped past Muffin, who was focused on this new intruder, and
+made coffee as dark and rich as Britt liked it.  Then he grabbed the
+giant box of donuts and placed them on the oak table that stood in
+front of the bay windows.
 
- "Don't burn the lot," said Eric, "you're putting on too much."
+"There's some breakfast, too, such as it is," he said.
 
- "Let's warm up."
+"Great," Portia said, but didn't move from her spot beside Clyde.  She
+looked like a little girl, her stuffed monkey hugging her, and the
+happy cat beneath her.  At moments like this, Cross could see the
+impact her lonely childhood had on her.  She had been homeless until
+she was ten.  As good as she was at her work, she still didn't have a
+real place to call her own, not with family and cats and plants.  And
+she needed it.
 
- "We'll only have to fetch more wood."
+That was only one reason to make sure those damn alien harvesters
+didn't destroy the planet.
 
- "I'm cold."
+"What was your idea, Portia?"  he asked as he sat down beside the open
+box of donuts.
 
- "So'm I."
+She looked up, seemed to remember herself, and then tucked some loose
+hair behind her ear.  "Oh, you'll probably think it's crazy."
 
- "Besides, it's--"
+"Crazy enough for you to track me down."
 
- "--dark. All right, then."
+"Yukio and Jeremy said I shouldn't, but Edwin said I should.  He said
+you like wild-hair ideas and that those are the only kind that make any
+real sense.  He also said that if you didn't believe in wild hairs, no
+one would have known about the aliens until it was too late."
 
- Eric squatted back and watched Sam make up the fire. He built a little tent of dead wood and the fire was safely alight.
+It almost was too late when they found out, but Cross didn't say that.
+Instead, he said, "Edwin's right."
 
- "That was near."
+She nodded.  "We've been trying to find out more about those
+nanoharvesters, and we've made some progress, but we're still a long
+way from being able to shut them down like you want."
 
- "He'd have been--"
+The coffeemaker gurgled and shut off.  Muffin raced for the kitchen. It
+was Cross's sign that the coffee was done.
 
- "Waxy."
+"It's still early yet," he said, even though that wasn't true.
 
- "Huh."
+"I worry about the reality of learning everything there is to know
+about an alien technology in time to do some good," Portia said.  She
+sat down across from him, pulled the monkey's hands apart, and took a
+long moment settling him in the third chair.  She made certain he sat
+upright, that his paws rested on the table, and that his face was
+turned toward her.
 
- For a few moments the twins watched the fire in silence. Then Eric sniggered.
+"How do you drink your coffee?"  Cross asked.  While she was settling
+the stuffed animal, he might as well deal with the live one.
 
- "Wasn't he waxy?"
+"Lots of sugar," she said.
 
- "About the--"
+He should have known.  He got up and headed into the kitchen.  There
+was a yowl, and Muffin wrapped herself around his right leg.  He
+ignored her, even though she was biting so hard he could feel the
+scrape of teeth through his socks.
 
- "Fire and the pig."
+He poured three cups of coffee, got out the sugar, and poured some
+whole milk into Britt's so it would be the right temperature by the
+time she got dressed.  Then he brought his and Portia's to the table.
 
- "Lucky he went for Jack, 'stead of us."
+"What's with that cat?"  Portia asked.
 
- "Huh. Remember old Waxy at school?"
+"She doesn't like me."
 
- "'Boy--you-are-driving-me-slowly-insane!'"
+"No shit."
 
- The twins shared their identical laughter, then remembered the darkness and other things and glanced round uneasily. The flames, busy about the tent, drew their eyes back again. Eric watched the scurrying woodlice that were so frantically unable to avoid the flames, and thought of the first fire--just down there, on the steeper side of the mountain, where now was complete darkness. He did not like to remember it, and looked away at the mountain-top.
+Muffin finally let go of his leg and moved away from him.  She was
+cleaning her fur, as if it were his fault that she was ruffled.
 
- Warmth radiated now, and beat pleasantly on them. Sam amused himself by fitting branches into the fire as closely as possible. Eric spread out his hands, searching for the distance at which the heat was just bearable. Idly looking beyond the fire, he resettled the scattered rocks from their flat shadows into daylight contours. Just there was the big rock, and the three stones there, that split rock, and there beyond was a gap--just there--
+Portia put three teaspoons of sugar into the mug, took a sip, and added
+three more.  Then she took a Bavarian cream donut out of the mess of
+donuts, and started to pick it into small pieces.
 
- "Sam."
+"Okay," Cross said, grabbing an eclair.  "What's this crazy idea?"
 
- "Huh?"
+"Well," Portia said around a piece of donut.  "You know, if we can't
+shut the harvesters off, maybe we can attack them."
 
- "Nothing."
+"Attack them?"
 
- The flames were mastering the branches, the bark was curling and falling away, the wood exploding. The tent fell inwards and flung a wide circle of light over the mountain-top.
+"Sure.  You know, develop our own nanomachines designed to attack alien
+technology.  We'd have this mega war being fought on the molecular
+level."
 
- "Sam--"
+Cross frowned.  He had no idea how this would work.
 
- "Huh?"
+"You can develop this?"
 
- "Sam! Sam!"
+Portia shrugged.  "Don't know until we try.  But I wanted to check with
+you first.  Any word from the government guys?"
 
- Sam looked at Eric irritably. The intensity of Eric's gaze made the direction in which he looked terrible, for Sam had his back to it. He scrambled round the fire, squatted by Eric, and looked to see. They became motionless, gripped in each other's arms, four unwinking eyes aimed and two mouths open.
+"None," Cross said.  "That door is completely closed.  Whatever their
+nanotech researchers are discovering, they don't want to tell us about
+it."
 
- Far beneath them, the trees of the forest sighed, then roared. The hair on their foreheads fluttered and flames blew out sideways from the fire. Fifteen yards away from them came the plopping noise of fabric blown open.
+"Damn," Portia said and popped the rest of the donut in her mouth.  She
+chewed, chipmunk like and then swallowed, washing everything down with
+coffee.
 
- Neither of the boys screamed but the grip of their arms tightened and their mouths grew peaked. For perhaps ten seconds they crouched like that while the flailing fire sent smoke and sparks and waves of inconstant light over the top of the mountain.
+Cross suddenly understood.  "You don't have enough workers to study the
+nanoharvesters and create some machines of your own."
 
- Then as though they had but one terrified mind between them they scrambled away over the rocks and fled.
+"No," Portia said.  Then she shook her head.  "Well, that's part of it.
+But not all of it.  I mean, we've got some good people, especially
+after you told Jeremy that he could do what he wanted with what we
+discovered.  But they're not me, you know."
 
- 
+He did know.  There was no arrogance in what Portia said, only truth.
+She had the right kind of vision for this project.  She would probably
+be the one to discover the shut-off mechanism for the nanoharvesters,
+or be the one to discover the kind of nanomachine that would defeat the
+alien machines.  But she wouldn't be able to do both.
 
- Ralph was dreaming. He had fallen asleep after what seemed hours of tossing and turning noisily among the dry leaves. Even the sounds of nightmare from the other shelters no longer reached him, for he was back to where he came from, feeding the ponies with sugar over the garden wall. Then someone was shaking his arm, telling him that it was time for tea.
+Britt picked that moment to come into the living room.  She was wearing
+a summer sweater with a pair of khaki pants, some Birkenstocks, and
+gold jewelry.
 
- "Ralph! Wake up!"
+She looked gorgeous, but Cross knew better than to tell her that, this
+close to decision-making time.  He had to bow his head so that she
+wouldn't see him grin.  He was in love with the woman.  She was one of
+the most capable scientists he knew, and yet she had some of the best
+quirks he'd ever encountered.
 
- The leaves were roaring like the sea.
+"How're the Muffin wars this morning?"  she asked.
 
- "Ralph, wake up!"
+"Your coffee's on the counter," he said, "and I've already poured the
+milk."
 
- "What's the matter?"
+She kissed him on the top of his head.  "You're a god," she said.
 
- "We saw--"
+"Wow," Portia said.
 
- "--the beast--"
+"And you can take that however you want to," Britt said.  "Good
+morning, Portia."
 
- "--plain!"
+"Hi, Dr.  Archer.  I hope you don't mind me being here."
 
- "Who are you? The twins?"
+"I hope you don't mind if we eat and run," Britt said.  "We have to get
+across town."
 
- "We saw the beast--"
+"We're nearly done anyway," Portia said as Britt disappeared into the
+kitchen.  Muffin followed her, purring.
 
- "Quiet. Piggy!"
+Cross shook his head.  Cats.  He'd managed to live his entire life
+without them.  Why was he investing so much time in them now, when he
+had no time?
 
- The leaves were roaring still. Piggy bumped into him and a twin grabbed him as he made for the oblong of paling stars.
+Britt, of course.
 
- "You can't go out--it's horrible!"
+"So what do you think, Dr.  Cross?"  Portia asked.  She was cradling
+her coffee mug.
 
- "Piggy--where are the spears?"
+He sighed.  Resources.  It all boiled down to resources.  Then he
+smiled slightly.  Resources for Earth--and for the tenth planet.  "Can
+you work on the new nanomachines alone?"
 
- "I can hear the--"
+"No," she said.
 
- "Quiet then. Lie still."
+He cursed softly.  "I don't know, Portia.  Nanotechnology is your
+area."
 
- They lay there listening, at first with doubt but then with terror to the description the twins breathed at them between bouts of extreme silence. Soon the darkness was full of claws, full of the awful unknown and menace. An interminable dawn faded the stars out, and at last light, sad and grey, filtered into the shelter. They began to stir though still the world outside the shelter was impossibly dangerous. The maze of the darkness sorted into near and far, and at thehigh point of the sky the cloudlets were warmed with color. A single sea bird flapped upwards with a hoarse cry that was echoed presently, and something squawked in the forest. Now streaks of cloud near the horizon began to glow rosily, and the feathery tops of the palms were green.
+"But the aliens are yours."
 
- Ralph knelt in the entrance to the shelter and peered cautiously round him.
+He didn't know how that had happened, but everyone seemed to assume he
+knew more about the tenth planet than he did.  Still, inventing their
+own nanomachine to fight
 
- "Sam 'n Eric. Call them to an assembly. Quietly. Go on."
+the aliens' might have more of a chance.  Portia would be developing
+something with technology she understood, not trying to figure out
+technology she didn't.
 
- The twins, holding tremulously to each other, dared the few yards to the next shelter and spread the dreadful news. Ralph stood up and walked for the sake of dignity, though with his back pricking, to the platform. Piggy and Simon followed him and the other boys came sneaking after.
+"Leo," Britt said as she came out of the kitchen.  "If we're going to
+fight the traffic, we've got to go now."
 
- Ralph took the conch from where it lay on the polished seat and held it to his lips; but then he hesitated and did not blow. He held the shell up instead and showed it to them and they understood.
+Portia was still looking at him.
 
- The rays of the sun that were fanning upwards from below the horizon swung downwards to eye-level. Ralph looked for a moment at the growing slice of gold that lit them from the right hand and seemed to make speech possible. The circle of boys before him bristled with hunting spears.
+"I like the idea," he said to her.  "But I need some time to think
+about it.  The choice is a tough one.  Off the top of my head, I'm
+leaning toward developing our own technology, but I don't like taking
+you off the current project."
 
- He handed the conch to Eric, the nearest of the twins.
+"It's not as if we're the only ones working on it," Portia said.  "And
+besides, we're not even supposed to be.  So I keep worrying if we do
+figure something out, no one will listen."
 
- "We've seen the beast with our own eyes. No--we weren't asleep--"
+It was a good point, and if the people weren't so damn scared, it would
+be a valid one.  "If you do figure something out," Cross said, "I'll
+make sure someone listens."
 
- Sam took up the story. By custom now one conch did for both twins, for their substantial unity was recognized.
+Portia smiled and stood.  She slung the monkey on her back, and only
+then did Cross realize that it had another Velcro slit on its back.  It
+had a tiny carrying case built in, and Portia was using it as a
+backpack.
 
- "It was furry. There was something moving behind its head--wings. The beast moved too--"
+"I'll get back to you," Cross said.  "In the meantime, continue on the
+same project."
 
- "That was awful. It kind of sat up--"
+"Okay," she said.
 
- "The fire was bright--"
+"Need a lift?"  Britt asked.
 
- "We'd just made it up--"
+Portia shook her head.  "I've got my own, thanks."  She stopped to pet
+Clyde, then let herself out.
 
- "--more sticks on--"
+"Strange girl," Britt said.
 
- "There were eyes--"
+"Lonely one," Cross said.
 
- "Teeth--"
+Britt looked at him.  He shrugged, and handed her a glazed donut.  "We
+don't have time to eat," she said.
 
- "Claws--"
+"You don't have time not to."
 
- "We ran as fast as we could--"
+"I'll eat in the car."
 
- "Bashed into things--"
+"Fine," Cross said.  He finished his coffee and waited while Britt
+poured hers into a travel mug.  Then they gathered their things and
+left the apartment.
 
- "The beast followed us--"
+They took Cross's car, but Britt drove.  She liked the new
+conveniences, and had, in the last week, taken five minutes to
+reprogram his navigation system so that he wouldn't be stuck in
+traffic.  He had had no idea you could program the system to monitor
+links that showed which roads had the most traffic, or traffic tie-ups,
+or road construction.  When Britt realized how much he let technology
+abuse him, she had taken over, and he hadn't minded.
 
- "I saw it slinking behind the trees--"
+He settled into the passenger seat, and thought about Portia's idea. If
+it worked, it would be the answer to everything.  But he'd learned long
+ago not to trust answers like that.
 
- "Nearly touched me--"
+With Britt's reprogramming, the car's natural speed, and its programmed
+ability to hit the timed stoplights correctly, they made it to the
+meeting in record time.  They arrived as General Maddox did.  She
+nodded curtly at Cross, then smiled at Britt as if she were an old
+friend.
 
- Ralph pointed fearfully at Eric's face, which was striped with scars where the bushes had torn him.
+Most of the rest of the group was there.  Three large pots of coffee
+sat in the center of the table, their plastic sides bearing the
+Starbucks logo.  A plate of donut holes sat beside them.
 
- "How did you do that?"
+"See?"  Britt whispered to Cross.  "Told you I didn't need
+breakfast."
 
- Eric felt his face.
+He didn't argue, but he remembered how many times in the last few weeks
+there'd only been institutional coffee and stale food.  "I tapped the
+military budget," Maddox said as she took her seat.  "If we have to be
+locked up in this remnant of the 1980s, we should at least be
+comfortable."
 
- "I'm all rough. Am I bleeding?"
+The group chuckled.  Britt smiled and looked down.  Cross found that
+curious.  Normally, she would agree on that point.
 
- The circle of boys shrank away in horror. Johnny, yawning still, burst into noisy tears and was slapped by Bill till he choked on them. The bright morning was full of threats and the circle began to change. It faced out, rather than in, and the spears of sharpened wood were like a fence. Jack called them back to the center.
+"What is it?"  he whispered.
 
- "This'll be a real hunt! Who'll come?"
+Britt shook her head, but he nudged her.  Finally, she sighed, grabbed
+a donut hole, and then leaned toward him.  Nice move, he thought as she
+did so.  No one would know that her movement was connected to Maddox's
+comment.
 
- Ralph moved impatiently.
+"The general believes," Britt whispered so softly that he \
 
- "These spears are made of wood. Don't be silly."
+had to strain to hear her, "that we have to enjoy the good things in
+life while we can."
 
- Jack sneered at him.
+Cross shuddered.  He didn't like the idea that Maddox was planning to
+lose this battle.  He resisted the urge to look at her.  Maybe she had
+always felt this way.  Maybe she was naturally pessimistic.  But now he
+wished that Britt hadn't shared.
 
- "Frightened?"
+"No secrets."  Robert Shane rounded the table and poured himself a cup
+of coffee.  Then he grabbed four donut holes with his left hand.
 
- "'Course I'm frightened. Who wouldn't be?"
+"Leave the lovebirds alone," Jesse Killius said as she took her seat.
 
- He turned to the twins, yearning but hopeless.
+"Lovebirds?"  Cross asked.
 
- "I suppose you aren't pulling our legs?"
+"Denial is not your forte, Dr.  Cross," Hayes said.  "Leave it to the
+politicos."
 
- The reply was too emphatic for anyone to doubt them.
+"Denial?"  Britt asked.
 
- Piggy took the conch.
+"Hey," Cross said spreading his hands, his half-eaten donut hole
+dropping crumbs on the table.  "I'm not denying.  I'm just stunned at
+the word choice."
 
- "Couldn't we--kind of--stay here? Maybe the beast won't come near us."
+"What would you prefer?"  Killius asked.  "The 'couple'?  That's so
+mundane."
 
- But for the sense of something watching them, Ralph would have shouted at him.
+"And unclear," Shane said.  "The couple of whats?"
 
- "Stay here? And be cramped into this bit of the island, always on the lookout? How should we get our food? And what about the fire?"
+Maddox was smiling.  "You know, we do need to get down to business
+here.  I understand our international uplinks are ready."
 
- "Let's be moving," said Jack relentlessly, "we're wasting time."
+Cross finished the donut hole, then poured himself a large cup of
+coffee.  The last few meetings had gone on longer than he wanted, and
+he'd nearly dozed in one.  Not because the information was dry--it
+wasn't--but because of his lack of sleep, the stuffy room, and the fact
+that he had always despised meetings.  He was stuck in them now. Maddox
+led the Tenth Planet Project meetings, but everyone still turned to
+Cross as the de facto leader.
 
- "No we're not. What about the littluns?"
+He was beginning to mind that.  This whole thing didn't belong on his
+shoulders.  He wasn't superhuman.  He was having as much trouble with
+this as everyone else.
 
- "Sucks to the littluns!"
+He let out a soft breath, trying to calm himself.  Portia's visit
+bothered him more than he wanted to admit.  Why did he have to choose
+which job she should do?  If he chose wrong, Earth might lose
+everything.
 
- "Someone's got to look after them."
+Then of course, there were no guarantees that either path would work.
 
- "Nobody has so far."
+"... right, Dr.  Cross?"  Maddox was saying.  The links were up.
+Conference tables in various rooms had people surrounding them, just
+like this one, and half the faces were turned toward him.  Or so it
+seemed.
 
- "There was no need! Now there is. Piggy'll look after them."
+"I'm sorry," he said.
 
- "That's right. Keep Piggy out of danger."
+She grinned.  "I said, we're ready to start, right, Dr.  Cross?"
 
- "Have some sense. What can Piggy do with only one eye?"
+"Whatever you say, General," he said, wondering why she was tormenting
+him this morning.  Or maybe it was evidence of a good mood.  Was there
+a reason the general was in a good mood?  A reason he should know
+about?
 
- The rest of the boys were looking from Jack to Ralph, curiously.
+He frowned, and decided to watch her more closely.
 
- "And another thing. You can't have an ordinary hunt because the beast doesn't leave tracks. If it did you'd have seen them. For all we know, the beast may swing through the trees like what's its name."
+"The last few meetings have run over time," Maddox was saying.  "I'm
+going to do my best to push this one through.  First, an update on the
+spaceships.  What have you found?"
 
- They nodded.
+The same man who had been doing all the reports from the South American
+team stood.  His name was Joao Agripino, and he was renowned in both
+physics and biology.  Cross had read some of Agripino's e-mail updates.
+It was inaccurate to call the team "the South American team."  That was
+simply where they were operating.  The team itself was large--over a
+hundred of the best engineers and scientists from all over the world.
+Even a few of the SETI people were down there, and a few science
+fiction writers with strong science credentials.  As Maddox had said,
+imagination was as important as direct knowledge, at least in this
+instance.
 
- "So we've got to think."
+"The going's slow," Agripino said in heavily accented English.  "This
+technology is quite foreign to us, which makes sense when you consider
+how different these aliens are from us physically.  It took us most of
+the last week to determine
 
- Piggy took off his damaged glasses and cleaned the remaining lens.
+r where the command center of the craft is.  There are still many
+sections of the spaceship that seem to be wasted space or have uses
+that we do not understand."
 
- "How about us, Ralph?"
+"I don't care if you can reproduce the entire ship," Maddox said.
+"What we need, and we need now, is to know how those shields work.  We
+want to know how they stopped our fighters."
 
- "You haven't got the conch. Here."
+"Yes, General.  We have received this request not just from you but
+from several other military leaders.  Even from your president.  But
+this is not one of your American stories where the hero figures out how
+alien technologies work an hour after seeing them.  In order to
+understand a detail of the technology, which this is, we must see the
+larger picture."
 
- "I mean--how about us? Suppose the beast comes when you're all away. I can't see proper, and if I get scared--"
+Two spots of color appeared on Maddox's cheek.  How many people had
+told her that this was not a movie or a novel?  The comparisons to
+science fiction thrillers were being made in all corners, probably
+because of the aliens, and scientists were especially defensive about
+it.  Cross personally had heard half a dozen scientists use this
+analogy, and he'd used it a time or two himself.  He bet Maddox had
+heard it more because so many scientists saw her as military and
+therefore assumed she was stupid.
 
- Jack broke in, contemptuously.
+"I do understand your dilemma, Dr.  Agripino," Maddox said.  "But you
+need to understand this: you don't have the luxury of time.  If you
+can't gather all the information you need with the team you have, then
+get more people on this.  If we don't understand those shields by the
+time the tenth planet returns, we may as well hand this planet over to
+those aliens.  It's the same thing."
 
- "You're always scared."
+Agripino's body stiffened.  On the small screen, he looked as if he had
+been jerked into position by an invisible string.
+
+"Now," Maddox said.  "What do you know about those shields?"
 
- "I got the conch--"
+"We have yet to figure out the controls in the command room General,"
+Agripino said.  "We are a bit leery of randomly touching buttons."
+
+'"Defensive," Britt whispered.  Cross nodded.
+
+"In other words, you don't have anything beyond discovering where the
+control room is," Maddox said.
+
+"That is a major breakthrough, General," Agripino said.
+
+"Not major enough," Maddox said.  "We need to understand those shields.
+Conrad, what have you got?"
+
+Stephen Conrad was a Londoner in charge of monitoring the worldwide
+situation.  The human problem, as the head of the English team had
+referred to it.
 
- "Conch! Conch!" shouted Jack. "We don't need the conch any more. We know who ought to say things. What good did Simon do speaking, or Bill, or Walter? It's time some people knew they've got to keep quiet and leave deciding things to the rest of us."
+Cross glanced at Maddox.  She wasn't going to let anyone slow down
+work.  She was scared, but she wasn't admitting it.
+
+On the screen, Conrad sat up when Maddox said his name.  He looked
+surprised.  Agripino sat down in his chair, keeping his face from the
+camera.
+
+"Um, well, it's not good news on this front either, I'm afraid," Conrad
+said.  "We're discovering growing pockets of discontent worldwide.  A
+rise in hate groups, most of them fortunately concentrated on the
+aliens, but a disturbing number who do not believe that aliens
+exist."
+
+"What do they believe?"  Britt asked, sounding stunned.
+
+"Well, that's a bit of a hodgepodge, really," Conrad said.  "Near as we
+can tell, they believe that this is a hoax perpetrated by world
+governments to encourage the rise of dictatorships.  But nothing is
+uniform.  We're talking about fringe groups here.  They only become a
+worry if they gain legitimacy."
+
+"Do they have any legitimacy?"  Maddox asked.
+
+"More than they had before the aliens arrived," Conrad said.  "People
+are always looking for explanations.  You've got to remember one other
+thing.  We're tracking the groups that have gone public in one way or
+another, whether on the Internet or on the airwaves or written letters
+to their MPs or some such.  But the problem with most of these fringe
+groups,
+
+particularly in Germany and in the United States, is that they operate
+underground.  They're particularly mistrustful of any organization and
+prefer to create their own.  We have no good way of tracking those."
+
+Cross felt cold.  He hadn't thought much about this.  "Is this going on
+in every country?"
+
+"So far as we can tell.  China has quashed all unusual Internet
+activity, and many of the African countries still have limited access,"
+Conrad said.
+
+"What does this mean for us?"  Cross asked.
+
+"What it means," Conrad said, "is that there is a greater tendency than
+ever for overreacting.  Our governments have to be very careful how
+they present things.  Mass hysteria is just around the corner.  Riots,
+burning in the streets, attempted coups, all are possible and likely at
+any moment."
+
+"Because we're facing a common enemy?"  someone from the European Block
+asked, as if she were stunned.
+
+"Because we've suffered such a mass defeat," Conrad said.  "And because
+our worlds are changing because of it.  We're losing national
+identities."
+
+Cross frowned.  He hadn't had this sense.
+
+But Conrad continued.  "For example, we're all in our separate
+countries here, working on this Tenth Planet Project, and when we do
+communicate face-to-face, we do it in my native language, which happens
+to be English.  However, we do it in a branch of my native language
+that many of my own countrymen deem inferior: American English.
+Multiply that tiny dissatisfaction among all the other countries in the
+world, and you suddenly have a problem.  Add to that problem the fact
+that everything is changing, from the way we deal with one another to
+the way that our jobs and resources are being used, and we have the
+makings of serious social discontent."
 
- Ralph could no longer ignore his speech. The blood was hot in his cheeks.
+"Well," Maddox said as if this didn't concern her.  "We'll have to--"
 
- "You haven't got the conch," he said. "Sit down."
+"Pardon me, General, but I would like to finish because this test
+point is the most important."  He looked a bit embarrassed, but that
+didn't stop him.
 
- Jack's face went so white that the freckles showed as clear, brown flecks. He licked his lips and remained standing.
+Maddox's fingers tapped against the table, just once, a rapid drumbeat.
+Conrad probably didn't see or hear it.  "All right," she said.
 
- "This is a hunter's job."
+"We have lost our sense of ourselves," Conrad said.
 
- The rest of the boys watched intently. Piggy, finding himself uncomfortably embroiled, slid the conch to Ralph's knees and sat down. The silence grew oppressive and Piggy held his breath.
+Maddox closed her eyes, but Cross had the sense she would have rolled
+them if she had kept them open.
 
- "This is more than a hunter's job," said Ralph at last, "because you can't track the beast. And don't you want to be rescued?"
+"I know you Yanks don't think of this as being all that important, but
+we Brits know the dire consequences of this.  We suffered through it
+all during the last century, when we went from being an empire that
+ruled most of the world to a commonwealth."
 
- He turned to the assembly.
+There were mutterings from other groups.  Some of them, Cross noted,
+former members of the British Empire.  Apparently Conrad noticed,
+too.
+
+"I don't mean to say that the Empire was well and good for all those
+involved.  We don't need that sort of political discussion here.  But
+we do need to acknowledge that, until a few short months ago, we
+thought ourselves alone in the universe.  And not just alone, but the
+most superior race in this universe."
+
+"You'd better have a point," Maddox said tightly.
 
- "Don't you all want to be rescued?"
+"I do, General, and I do want you all to hear me.  What I'm saying may
+not be politically popular, but it does factor quite strongly into much
+of what is happening worldwide."  Conrad leaned against the table.  His
+colleagues had moved away from him slightly.
+
+Cross found that fascinating.  Were they afraid of being associated
+with the superior race theory?
+
+"If we look at human history, one perspective is that it's a continual
+struggle for world domination.  But we have always assumed that the
+world domination we've been speaking of is human domination.  None of
+us ever thought that apes would
 
- He looked back at Jack.
+rise up and take over the world, or that we'd suddenly be attacked by
+squadrons of killer dolphins."
+
+Surprisingly, no one laughed.  Cross almost did: the mental image was
+one he appreciated.  Killer dolphins on scooters, coming to take over
+the world.
+
+"I believe," Conrad was saying, "that this assumption is behind much of
+the denial that's going on in the fringe groups.  Aliens can't be out
+there because they might take over our world.  And we all know that no
+alien will take over Earth.  We--the Americans, the Japanese, the
+Germans, whomever--we will take over the Earth, but certainly not some
+outsider."
 
- "I said before, the fire is the main thing. Now the fire must be out--"
+"You're calling us xenophobic," Hayes said.
 
- The old exasperation saved him and gave him the energy to attack.
+"Yes," Conrad said.  "And some of us are ignoring it because we need to
+defend ourselves.  Some of us are expecting humans to triumph because
+we've always seen ourselves as the superior species.  And some of us
+are so xenophobic we can't imagine any other species--from anywhere,
+Earth, Mars, or the tenth planet--being greater than we are.  So we
+deny that the aliens exist."
 
- "Hasn't anyone got any sense? We've got to relight that fire. You never thought of that, Jack, did you? Or don't any of you want to be rescued?"
+"Clearly their technology is superior to ours," Cross said.
 
- Yes, they wanted to be rescued, there was no doubt about that; and with a violent swing to Ralph's side, the crisis passed. Piggy let out his breath with a gasp, reached for it again and failed. He lay against a log, his mouth gaping, blue shadows creeping round his lips. Nobody minded him.
+"Clearly," Conrad said.  "And it always has been.  One of the most
+bitter pills about this entire affair, Dr.  Cross, are the discoveries
+that you made, the discoveries that led us all to look toward the skies
+before the tenth planet even arrived."
 
- "Now think, Jack. Is there anywhere on the island you haven't been?"
+Someone whistled--it looked like someone in the Australian feed--and
+Cross felt his stomach turn.
 
- Unwillingly Jack answered.
+"The fact that they've been here before," he said.  "Countless times,"
+Conrad said.  "Defeating humanity each and every time.  What this
+means, my friends, is that we are not the superior species.  They are,
+and have been, for millennia.  It requires an entirely new way of
+thinking, about humanity, about Earth, about ourselves.  England went
+through this on a very small scale when it lost its empire.  So, I
+would assume, did Rome, centuries ago.  But never have humans, on
 
- "There's only--but of course! You remember? The tail-end part, where the rocks are all piled up. I've been near there. The rock makes a sort of bridge. There's only one way up."
+this scaled-been forced to examine themselves.  And never before have
+we come out looking quite this bad."
+
+Across the table, Robert Shane sighed and looked down.  Britt put her
+hand on Cross's.  Yolanda Hayes pursed her lips and looked toward the
+ceiling.
 
- "And the thing might live there."
+Maddox had threaded her fingers together.  "Let me see if I get this,
+then," she said.  "You believe this reassessment, this new way of
+looking at things, is causing more nut balls
 
- All the assembly talked at once.
+"Absolutely," Conrad said.  "I keep going to the British model because
+it's the one I'm familiar with, but the discontent in England during
+the 1920s is related to an economic crisis, yes, but also to the fact
+that our national psyche was injured.  People were quite angry, and
+they took to the streets over the smallest thing."
 
- "Quite! All right. That's where we'll look. If the beast isn't there we'll go up the mountain and look; and light the fire."
+He paused.  No one was fidgeting any longer.
 
- "Let's go."
+"Right now, people are very angry.  We've been attacked from above,
+from the heavens, something we have never expected.  We've had
+significant loss of life and property.  We've been destroyed by weapons
+we don't understand, by a species we've never heard of, and for no
+apparent reason.  The average citizen in almost every country feels
+quite powerless.  There is no rising against the oppressor because the
+oppressor is invisible.  So the uprising could occur against the people
+who are visible."
 
- "We'll eat first. Then go." Ralph paused. "We'd better take spears."
+"The governments."  Maddox didn't look bored any longer.
 
- After they had eaten, Ralph and the biguns set out along the beach. They left Piggy propped up on the platform. This day promised, like the others, to be a sunbath under a blue dome. The beach stretched away before them in a gentle curve till perspective drew it into one with the forest; for the day was not advanced enough to be obscured by the shifting veils of mirage. Under Ralph's direction, they picked up a careful way along the palm terrace, rather than dare the hot sand down by the water. He let Jack lead the way; and Jack trod with theatrical caution though they could have seen an enemy twenty yards away. Ralph walked in the rear, thankful to have escaped responsibility for a time.
+"Not just one," Conrad said, "but all of them, and for different
+reasons."
 
- Simon, walking in front of Ralph, felt a flicker of incredulity--a beast with claws that scratched, that sat on a mountain-top, that left no tracks and yet was not fast enough to catch Samneric. However Simon thought of the beast, there rose before his inward sight the picture of a human at once heroic and sick.
+"This is a political problem," one of the Japanese scientists said.
 
- He sighed. Other people could stand up and speak to an assembly, apparently, without that dreadful feeling of the pressure of personality; could say what they would as though they were speaking to only one person. He stepped aside and looked back. Ralph was coming along, holding his spear over his shoulder. Diffidently, Simon allowed his pace to slacken until he was walking side by side with Ralph and looking up at him through the coarse black hair that now fell to his eyes. Ralph glanced sideways, smiled constrainedly as though he had forgotten that Simon had made a fool of himself, then looked away again at nothing. For a moment or two Simon was happy to be accepted and then he ceased to think about himself. When he bashed into a tree Ralph looked sideways impatiently and Robert sniggered. Simon reeled and a white spot on his forehead turned red and trickled. Ralph dismissed Simon and returned to his personal hell. They would reach the castle some time; and the chief would have to go forward.
+"No," Conrad said.  "This is a problem we must all be aware of.  Fringe
+groups often tie with terrorist organizations, and if they direct their
+wrath against a major government, we might be fighting on two fronts:
+against the aliens, and against ourselves."
 
- Jack came trotting back. "We're in sight now."
+"What do you expect us to do?"  one of the African representatives
+said.  "Most of us are scientists."
 
- "All right. We'll get as close as we can."
+"Or advisers," the South Korean representative said.
 
- He followed Jack toward the castle where the ground rose slightly. On their left was an impenetrable tangle of creepers and trees.
+"We need to warn our governments to pay attention to these threats, and
+to neutralize them where possible.  I will send you all e-mail with
+some of this material in it."  Conrad threaded his fingers together.
+"We also need to make certain that the people know we're doing
+something."
 
- "Why couldn't there be something in that?"
+"The massive deployment of troops should tell them that," Maddox
+said.
 
- "Because you can see. Nothing goes in or out."
+"The massive deployment of troops figures into the conspiracy
+theories," Conrad said.  "I've read some of the paranoia on this.  We
+need to let people know, as time goes on, that we have successful plans
+for fighting the aliens."
 
- "What about the castle then?"
+"Most of the world doesn't even know the aliens are coming back yet,
+even with some of the tabloid coverage," Cross said.
 
- "Look."
+"That status is not going to last much longer," Conrad said.  "There's
+too much coming out from too many sources.  And anyone with a slight
+knowledge of orbits will figure out that the tenth planet will be close
+to Earth a second time in a few months."
+
+"We can't divulge what we're going to do," Maddox said.  "We're at
+war."
 
- Ralph parted the screen of grass and looked out. There were only a few more yards of stony ground and then the two sides of the island came almost together so that one expected a peak of headland. But instead of this a narrow ledge of rock, a few yards wide and perhaps fifteen long, continued the island out into the sea. There lay another of those pieces of pink squareness that underlay the structure of the island. This side of the castle, perhaps a hundred feet high, was the pink bastion they had seen from the mountain-top. The rock of the cliff was split and the top littered with great lumps that seemed to totter.
+"No, we can't," Conrad said.  "But we can make reassurances.  And we
+should from time to time."
 
- Behind Ralph the tall grass had filled with silent hunters. Ralph looked at Jack.
+"I'll speak to the president," Yolanda Hayes said.
 
- "You're a hunter."
+Others echoed her sentiments.
 
- Jack went red.
+Maddox's mouth was a thin line.  "Well," she said.  "That was cheerful.
+Let's talk about something we do have control over.  General Obote,
+what's happening with those fighter planes?"
 
- "I know. All right."
+A heavyset man wearing a uniform that Cross didn't recognize stood.  He
+was in the African group.  He nodded, as if
 
- Something deep in Ralph spoke for him.
+he felt there needed to be a bit more formality in these
+proceedings.
 
- "I'm chief. I'll go. Don't argue."
+"Thank you, General Maddox," Obote said.  "I have been placed in charge
+of coordinating the joint military effort to build more fighter planes.
+Several governments are involved in this project, and we have made
+contact with several more.  We have also spoken to international
+conglomerates, like your Boeing, and they have, as you say, stepped up
+production.  Things are proceeding rapidly.  We should have many more
+planes by the time the tenth planet returns.  More planes than I would
+have been able to predict a week ago."
 
- He turned to the others.
+"Excellent," Maddox said, and Cross knew she wasn't surprised by this.
+She had been saving it for just this sort of moment in the meeting.
+"Anything else?"
 
- "You. Hide here. Wait for me."
+"All of the countries we have spoken to have taken old fighters out of
+retirement and are fixing them, putting them in working order.  We
+shall have, by our target date, more fighter planes than the world has
+ever seen."
 
- He found his voice tended either to disappear or to come out too loud. He looked at Jack.
+"What about pilots?"  Shane asked.
 
- "Do you--think?"
+"Many are returning from retirement, and many are on an accelerated
+training program.  Many of the smaller countries are sending their most
+promising candidates to flight schools in the larger, more developed
+countries.  We shall have pilots to fly our fighters, sir.  We shall
+have a fighting force that the aliens will not expect."
 
- Jack muttered.
+"Thank God," someone said.
 
- "I've been all over. It must be here."
+Cross only thought about how worthless that would be without the
+ability to get through those alien ships' screens.
 
- "I see."
+"Good news at last," Maddox said.  "Thank you, General."
 
- Simon mumbled confusedly: "I don't believe in the beast."
+Obote nodded again, then sat back down.
 
- Ralph answered him politely, as if agreeing about the weather.
+"Dr.  Archer, what do we have on the planet itself?"  Maddox asked.
 
- "No. I suppose not."
+"Not much, General," Britt said.  She slowly stood up as the others had
+been doing.  Cross got the sense she was still unnerved by Conrad's
+argument.  It had been as if he had
+spoken about a taboo subject.  No one wanted to think about the
+changes the arrival of the tenth planet brought, especially the less
+visible, psychological changes.
 
- His mouth was tight and pale. He put back his hair very slowly.
+"We're attempting to get as much information as we can," Britt was
+saying.  "All of the telescopes are focused on it, but right now it's
+too close to the sun.  We can only get minimal information, most of
+which I've already reported.  Soon the tenth planet will go behind the
+sun, and then we'll have three months to sift through the information
+we have before the planet reappears."
 
- "Well. So long."
+"I expect that sifting to take less than three months," Maddox said.
 
- He forced his feet to move until they had carried him out on to the neck of land.
+Britt smiled as if she had expected that slight rebuke.  "You've
+already gotten the important information, General.  It's the subtler
+stuff we'll be working on while the planet is out of our range.  We're
+going to be double-checking facts and figures to see if we've missed
+anything. We're going to go over our previous work to make certain
+we're on the right track, and we're going to see if we can clean up
+these last images we get in the hopes that we gain more information
+from them than we initially thought possible."
 
- He was surrounded on all sides by chasms of empty air. There was nowhere to hide, even if one did not have to go on. He paused on the narrow neck and looked down. Soon, in a matter of centuries, the sea would make an island of the castle. On the right hand was the lagoon, troubled by the open sea; and on the left-- Ralph shuddered. The lagoon had protected them from the Pacific: and for some reason only Jack had gone right down to the water on the other side. Now he saw the landsman's view of the swell and it seemed like the breathing of some stupendous creature. Slowly the waters sank among the rocks, revealing pink tables of granite, strange growths of coral, polyp, and weed. Down, down, the waters went, whispering like the wind among the heads of the forest. There was one flat rock there, spread like a table, and the waters sucking down on the four weedy sides made them seem like cliffs. Then the sleeping leviathan breathed out, the waters rose, the weed streamed, and the water boiled over the table rock with a roar. There was no sense of the passage of waves; only this minute-long fall and rise and fall.
+"Excellent," Maddox said.  "Is there anything else?"
 
- Ralph turned away to the red cliff. They were waiting behind him in the long grass, waiting to see what he would do. He noticed that the sweat in his palm was cool now; realized with surprise that he did not really expect to meet any beast and didn't know what he would do about it if he did.
+As usual, there were small items, things that had more to do with
+coordination than information.  Finally Maddox insisted that the
+specific groups work the details out among themselves.  Cross noted, as
+things wound down, that Maddox had said nothing about what the military
+was doing.  She had, in fact, steered the meeting away from all but the
+good news about the fighter planes.
 
- He saw that he could climb the cliff but this was not necessary. The squareness of the rock allowed a sort of plinth round it, so that to the right, over the lagoon, one could inch along a ledge and turn the corner out of sight. It was easy going, and soon he was peering round the rock.
+When the international contingent signed off, Cross reached for one
+more donut hole to tide him to lunch.
 
- Nothing but what you might expect: pink, tumbled boulders with guano layered on them like icing; and a steep slope up to the shattered rocks that crowned the bastion.
+"I didn't adjourn us, Dr.  Cross," Maddox said, and he felt like a high
+school student who got caught cutting class.
 
- A sound behind him made him turn. Jack was edging along the ledge.
+He took his donut hole and leaned back.  "Just getting more food he
+said, holding it up to her as evidence.  He would have done the same
+thing in high school.
 
- "Couldn't let you do it on your own."
+"Well, when you're done, you can tell us what Nan Tech has discovered
+on those harvesters," she said.
 
- Ralph said nothing. He led the way over the rocks, inspected a sort of half-cave that held nothing more terrible than a clutch of rotten eggs, and at last sat down, looking round him and tapping the rock with the butt of his spear.
+Britt gasped.
 
- Jack was excited.
+Thank you, Dr.  Archer, Cross thought, but didn't say.  If Maddox
+hadn't known before, she definitely did now.
 
- "What a place for a fort!"
+A small smile played at Maddox's lips.  "Don't be coy, Dr.  Cross.  I
+happen to know that you took some of those alien nanomachines to Nan
+Tech  If I had been thinking, I might have instructed you to do that. 
+So, what has the team found?"
 
- A column of spray wetted them.
+"Not much," Cross said.  "Just the fact that the harvesters don't move
+on their own, that they do seem to shut off when they're full, and they
+can be programmed to eat anything."
 
- "No fresh water."
+"Anything?"
 
- "What's that then?"
+"Right now they're designed to eat organic material.  The Nan Tech team
+believes they can absorb minerals as well, or saline from the ocean.
+Anything the tenth planet needs, in other words."
 
- There was indeed a long green smudge half-way up the rock. They climbed up and tasted the trickle of water.
+Maddox didn't look surprised.  Apparently her spies had told her that
+as well.  But the others did.
 
- "You could keep a coconut shell there, filling all the time."
+"My God," Yolanda Hayes said.  "You mean they could destroy the very
+Earth itself?"
 
- "Not me. This is a rotten place."
+"If they wanted to," Cross said.  "It would take a lot of
+nanoharvesters."
 
- Side by side they scaled the last height to where the diminishing pile was crowned by the last broken rock. Jack struck the near one with his fist and it grated slightly.
+He turned to Maddox.  He wasn't military and he wasn't her underling.
+He didn't appreciate being ambushed like that, and he was going to make
+it as plain as he could without direct confrontation.
 
- "Do you remember--?"
+"What about your people?  I've heard nothing since I brought the
+harvesters back from California.  What have your researchers found?"
 
- Consciousness of the bad times in between came to them both. Jack talked quickly.
+"About the same thing yours have," Maddox said.  Then she slapped her
+hands on the table.  "I suspect we all have better
 
- "Shove a palm trunk under that and if an enemy came-- look!"
+things to do than finish the last of the donut holes.  Now the meeting
+is dismissed.  Oh, and Dr.  Cross?"
 
- A hundred feet below them was the narrow causeway, then the stony ground, then the grass dotted with heads, and behind that the forest.
+Why did he have the feeling he wasn't going to like this request
+either?
 
- "One heave," cried Jack, exulting, "and--wheee--!"
+"Make certain you have a report on Nan Tech work next time we meet."
 
- He made a sweeping movement with his hand. Ralph looked toward the mountain.
+"It would be easier if they had access to the military's work," Cross
+said.
 
- "What's the matter?"
+"I doubt that," Maddox said.
 
- Ralph turned.
+Cross let out an exasperated breath.  It was Shane who came to his
+rescue.
 
- "Why?"
+"General Maddox," Shane said.  "Remember the discussion we had about
+sharing information?  It's critical in the sciences."
 
- "You were looking--I don't know why."
+She nodded curtly.  "I'll take that under advisement."  And then she
+stood.  "Thank you all for coming," she said, and left.
 
- "There's no signal now. Nothing to show."
+"Dammit," Britt said.  "Just when I was starting to like her."
 
- "You're nuts on the signal."
+"That wasn't so bad," Hayes said.  "If you'd been military, Dr.  Cross,
+you'd have received a strict dressing-down for taking those harvesters
+to private industry."
 
- The taut blue horizon encircled them, broken only by the mountain-top.
+"It feels like I did get a dressing-down," Cross said.
 
- "That's all we've got."
+"I suspect that General Maddox wasn't even trying to upset you, Leo,"
+Shane said.  "She's got bigger balls than most of the guys on the Joint
+Chiefs.  She could have humiliated you with a single sentence.  Trust
+me, I've seen it."
 
- He leaned his spear against the rocking stone and pushed back two handfuls of hair.
+Cross shook his head.  "It's not something I want to see."
 
- "We'll have to go back and climb the mountain. That's where they saw the beast."
+"Well, your dressing-down is good news actually," Killius said.
 
- "The beast won't be there."
+"Why's that?"  Britt asked.
 
- "What else can we do?"
+Killius sipped the last of her coffee and tossed the paper cup into the
+wastebasket near the door.  "I'd been getting the sense from the
+general that she wasn't sure we could win this battle against the
+aliens."
 
- The others, waiting in the grass, saw Jack and Ralph unharmed and broke cover into the sunlight. They forgot the beast in the excitement of exploration. They swarmed across the bridge and soon were climbing and shouting. Ralph stood now, one hand against an enormous red block, a block large as a mill wheel that had been split off and hung, tottering. Somberly he watched the mountain. He clenched his fist and beat hammer-wise on the red wall at his right. His lips were tightly compressed and his eyes yearned beneath the fringe of hair.
+"Yeah," Britt said.  "Ever since that dinner."
 
- "Smoke."
+"Dinner?"  Shane asked.
 
- He sucked his bruised fist.
+Cross shook his head.  "It doesn't really matter," he said softly.
 
- "Jack! Come on."
+"Exactly," Killius said.  "That dinner creeped me out, too.  It kinda
+felt like the opening round of the party at the end of the world."
 
- But Jack was not there. A knot of boys, making a great noise that he had not noticed, were heaving and pushing at a rock. As he turned, the base cracked and the whole mass toppled into the sea so that a thunderous plume of spray leapt half-way up the cliff.
+"Oh," Shane said.
 
- "Stop it! Stop it!"
+"But if the military doesn't want private industry to get its filthy
+paws on those nanoharvesters, then that's a good sign," Killius said.
 
- His voice struck a silence among them.
+The logic was too circuitous for Cross.  "How's that?"
 
- "Smoke."
+Killius looked at Cross as if he were dense.  "It means they think
+we're going to survive this, and after it's all over, the private
+industry will exploit things that the government feels are dangerous in
+the wrong hands.  The government wants to control this technology.  And
+I'm convinced, after that little performance, that the only people
+working on those nanoharvesters are Americans."
 
- A strange thing happened in his head. Something flittered there in front of his mind like a bat's wing, obscuring his idea.
+"Je-zus," Hayes said.
 
- "Smoke."
+"That's just plain wrong," Cross said.  "If we fail in the air, we have
+to be able to defeat those aliens on the ground.  And the
+nanoharvesters are the key to that.  We should be making it a top
+priority in all this research.  I'm half tempted to ship information
+off to labs all over the world."
 
- At once the ideas were back, and the anger.
+"Do that," Shane said, "and you will get a real dressing down.  Don't
+worry about it for now."
 
- "We want smoke. And you go wasting your time. You roll rocks."
+"It seems you were hiding information as well," Hayes said.
 
- Roger shouted.
+"No, I was just pissed that we were going to be out of the loop."  Then
+he paused, a bit confused.  "You know, it was Maddox who told me we
+were going to be.  Why would she do this now?"
 
- "We've got plenty of time!"
+"Maybe because the orders didn't originate with her," Killius said.
+"And maybe she doesn't agree with them."
 
- Ralph shook his head.
+Shane made a dismissing sound.  "She's too by the book for that."
 
- "We'll go to the mountain."
+"No," Britt said.  "Jesse's right.  Maddox is by the book, but she's a
+human being, too.  And she's scared.  That's what we got from that
+dinner, just how scared she is.  Maybe she was hedging her bet without
+the government's approval."
 
- The clamor broke out. Some of the boys wanted to go back to the beach. Some wanted to roll more rocks. The sun was bright and danger had faded with the darkness.
+"Then your sign isn't as good," Shane said to Killius.  "Maybe we've
+come up against good old-fashioned stupidity."
 
- "Jack. The beast might be on the other side. You can lead again. You've been."
+Killius shook her head.  "Nope.  I hold to my opinion.  The fact that
+they're hiding information like this means someone thinks we can win
+this thing.  And if that's the case, that means someone above us is
+optimistic.  I see that as good news."
 
- "We could go by the shore. There's fruit."
+"If that's what you need," Shane said.  "But I've been in this too
+long.  I have the hunch it's just a case of business as usual."
 
- Bill came up to Ralph.
+"We haven't been doing business as usual on anything else," Cross said,
+"even to the extent of sharing information about military equipment.  I
+can't believe we'd do it here.  I vote with Jesse.  I see something
+good in all of this."
 
- "Why can't we stay here for a bit?"
+Shane's eyes twinkled.  "Well, if far-seeing Dr.  Cross believes that
+we'll survive, that's good enough for me."
 
- "That's right.''
+Cross grinned.  "Sometimes, Shane, I wonder how you made it this far in
+this business."
 
- "Let's have a fort."
+"Usually," Shane said, "I keep my mouth shut and my head low.  I have
+no idea what was wrong with me today."
 
- "There's no food here," said Ralph, "and no shelter. Not much fresh water."
+"Too many donut holes," Britt said, grabbing the last one.  "And me,
+I've got to get to work."
 
- "This would make a wizard fort."
+The others agreed, and followed Britt out of the room.  Cross lingered
+for a moment and stared at the now-blank screen.  Optimism.  Hope.  No
+one was using those words.  Maybe Conrad was right.  Maybe the fear
+came from the sudden, new knowledge that not only were humans not alone
+in the universe, but that the new race was so superior it'd been
+kicking our ass for generations.
 
- "We can roll rocks--"
+When you got down to the survival level, people became completely
+unpredictable.
 
- "Right onto the bridge--"
+Even he had.  He hadn't said a word about Portia's idea to create new
+nanomachines, machines that would attack the nanoharvesters.  Because
+he didn't believe in the plan?  Or
 
- "I say we'll go on!" shouted Ralph furiously. "We've got to make certain. We'll go now."
+because he was protecting Portia?  Or because he wanted to hide
+information from Maddox?
 
- "Let's stay here--"
+He liked to think it was none of the above.  If he were rationalizing,
+he would say it was because he hadn't decided it was worth pursuing.
 
- "Back to the shelter--"
+But somewhere, in that long and tense meeting, he had decided.  He was
+going to tell Portia to go ahead with the new plan.  If he could trust
+Maddox--and he wasn't sure he could-then the military was working on
+the same path as Nan Tech If that was the case, then Portia was free to
+work on the new nanomachines.
 
- "I'm tired--"
+He wished he could find out for certain, but he would lose too much
+time trying to crack the military's secrecy policies.
 
- "No!"
+Survival took risks.  Calculated risks, but risks to be sure.  Portia
+wanted to deal with human technology.  She felt more comfortable with
+it.  And he knew that a scientist working in a realm she felt
+comfortable in made more progress than a scientist who worked in an
+unfamiliar place.
 
- Ralph struck the skin off his knuckles. They did not seem to hurt.
+"You coming, Leo?"  Brirt asked from the door.
 
- "I'm chief. We've got to make certain. Can't you see the mountain? There's no signal showing. There may be a ship out there. Are you all off your rockers?"
+"Yeah," he said.  He had a lot to do.  And the first thing on his list
+was contacting Portia Groopman.
 
- Mutinously, the boys fell silent or muttering.
+May 25, 2018
 
- Jack led the way down the rock and across the bridge.
+5:47 a.m. Central Daylight Time
 
- 
+142 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- 
+Vivian Hartlein leaned against a tree three blocks off Union Street in
+Memphis, watching.  The morning air still had a damp chill, but she
+knew the summer heat would fall, thick and heavy, by noon.  She hoped
+to be on her way north in that little truck she'd had Jake buy her.
+Forty-year-old Ford-rebuilt, of course--but not with none of them
+electronic
 
- CHAPTER SEVEN Shadows and Tall Trees
+parts.  No tracers, no nothing.  Simple, old-fashioned combustion
+engine, just like God intended.
 
- 
+But she couldn't leave yet, not without knowing that her plan was
+started right.
 
- The pig-run kept close to the jumble of rocks that lay down by the water on the other side and Ralph was content to follow Jack along it. If you could shut your ears to the slow suck down of the sea and boil of the return, if you could forget how dun and unvisited were the ferny coverts on either side, then there was a chance that you might put the beast out of mind and dream for a while. The sun had swung over the vertical and the afternoon heat was closing in on the island. Ralph passed a message forward to Jack and when they next came to fruit the whole party stopped and ate.
+From this morning on there'd be no turning back.
 
- Sitting, Ralph was aware of the heat for the first time that day. He pulled distastefully at his grey shirt and wondered whether he might undertake the adventure of washing it. Sitting under what seemed an unusual heat, even for this island, Ralph planned his toilet. He would like to have a pair of scissors and cut this hair--he flung the mass back--cut this filthy hair right back to half an inch. He would like to have a bath, a proper wallow with soap. He passed his tongue experimentally over his teeth and decided that a toothbrush would come in handy too. Then there were his nails--
+This morning the government would start paying for the deaths of her
+family.  And for all the other millions of people it had killed.  And
+this time they wouldn't be able to blame it on no aliens.
 
- Ralph turned his hand over and examined them. They were bitten down to the quick though he could not remember when he had restarted this habit nor any time when he indulged it.
+The street in front of her was tree lined and landscaped.  A full two
+blocks away stood the Internal Revenue Service.  It was in a four-story
+older building, made of granite, looking gray and solid and mean.
 
- "Be sucking my thumb next--"
+She studied the building one last time, taking in all the pictures of
+what it looked like.  She wanted to remember every detail.  The tall
+windows, the columns, the stairs leading in, the stone foyer beyond.
 
- He looked round, furtively. Apparently no one had heard. The hunters sat, stuffing themselves with this easy meal, trying to convince themselves that they got sufficient kick out of bananas and that other olive-grey, jelly-like fruit. With the memory of his sometime clean self as a standard, Ralph looked them over. They were dirty, not with the spectacular dirt of boys who have fallen into mud or been brought down hard on a rainy day. Not one of them was an obvious subject for a shower, and yet--hair, much too long, tangled here and there, knotted round a dead leaf or a twig; faces cleaned fairly well by the process of eating and sweating but marked in the less accessible angles with a kind of shadow; clothes, worn away, stiff like his own with sweat, put on, not for decorum or comfort but out of custom; the skin of the body, scurfy with brine--
+She'd never been in the building.  She never paid no taxes, and Dale
+didn't neither.  They got by.  Government didn't even seem to notice
+they wasn't in the system.  That was because they made sure they was as
+outside it as possible: no ID, no bank accounts, no active social
+security number.  No way she'd give money to a corrupt and evil
+government.  Especially now, now that they done killed her family.
 
- He discovered with a little fall of the heart that these were the conditions he took as normal now and that he did not mind. He sighed and pushed away the stalk from which he had stripped the fruit. Already the hunters were stealing away to do their business in the woods or down by the rocks. He turned and looked out to sea.
+Even as she was planning this, she never went inside.  Two blocks away
+was as close as she had ever gotten.  But she'd seen the plans, helped
+in guiding those who was going to help her do right.  She had convinced
+them all.
 
- Here, on the other side of the island, the view was utterly different. The filmy enchantments of mirage could not endure the cold ocean water and the horizon was hard, clipped blue. Ralph wandered down to the rocks. Down here, almost on a level with the sea, you could follow with your eye the ceaseless, bulging passage of the deep sea waves. They were miles wide, apparently not breakers or the banked ridges of shallow water. They traveled the length of the island with an air of disregarding it and being set on other business; they were less a progress than a momentous rise and fall of the whole ocean. Now the sea would suck down, making cascades and waterfalls of retreating water, would sink past the rocks and plaster down the seaweed like shining hair: then, pausing, gather and rise with a roar, irresistibly swelling over point and outcrop, climbing the little cliff, sending at last an arm of surf up a gully to end a yard or so from him in fingers of spray.
+Now she wanted to remember.
 
- Wave after wave, Ralph followed the rise and fall until something of the remoteness of the sea numbed his brain. Then gradually the almost infinite size of this water forced itself on his attention. This was the divider, the barrier. On the other side of the island, swathed at midday with mirage, defended by the shield of the quiet lagoon, one might dream of rescue; but here, faced by the brute obtuseness of the ocean, the miles of division, one was clamped down, one was helpless, one was condemned, one was--
+This morning was only the beginning.
 
- Simon was speaking almost in his ear. Ralph found that he had rock painfully gripped in both hands, found his body arched, the muscles of his neck stiff, his mouth strained open.
+She glanced at her watch as two cars, both sedans, moved down the
+street toward her.  She pretended to be looking the other way as they
+passed.
 
- "You'll get back to where you came from."
+There was less than two minutes left.  Another car pulled up in front
+of the IRS building and stopped.  Even from two blocks away she could
+see a man in the passenger seat and a woman driving.  Two kids was
+strapped in safety seats in the back.  Vivian remembered when she'd
+driven her daughter around like that.  And how she'd never gotten the
+chance to drive her grand babies anywhere.
 
- Simon nodded as he spoke. He was kneeling on one knee, looking down from a higher rock which he held with both hands; his other leg stretched down to Ralph's level.
+And she never would now.  Thanks to the government and all their
+lies.
 
- Ralph was puzzled and searched Simon's face for a clue.
+The man kissed the woman in the car lightly, said something to the
+children, then opened the door.  That was as far as he got, half in,
+half out of the car, his head turned to look at his children.
 
- "It's so big, I mean--"
+The front of the IRS building blew outward directly at the car.
 
- Simon nodded.
+Every window in the building exploded as a massive black cloud covered
+everything.
 
- "All the same. You'll get back all right. I think so, anyway."
+Vivian stared, making sure she would remember.
 
- Some of the strain had gone from Ralph's body. He glanced at the sea and then smiled bitterly at Simon.
+Even two blocks away the concussion of the blast knocked Vivian to one
+knee.
 
- "Got a ship in your pocket?"
+The ground shook under her.
 
- Simon grinned and shook his head.
+Windows smashed in the buildings near her, raining glass on the streets
+and sidewalks.
 
- "How do you know, then?"
+The rumbling, roaring sound smothered everything.
 
- When Simon was still silent Ralph said curtly, "You're batty."
+She never took her gaze off where the government building had been.
 
- Simon shook his head violently till the coarse black hair flew backwards and forwards across his face.
+Slowly, she climbed to her feet.  She'd expected a feeling of joy.  Or
+maybe excitement.
 
- "No, I'm not. I just _think you'll get back all right._"
+But she felt nothing.
 
- For a moment nothing more was said. And then they suddenly smiled at each other.
+She stared down the street of destruction in front of her.
 
- 
+The IRS building was gone, covered in a cloud of rolling smoke.  Car
+and building sirens was screaming from all directions.
 
- Roger called from the coverts.
+The IRS employee's car had been smashed into the wall of the building
+across the street and was burning.  She couldn't see the little family
+at all.
 
- "Come and see!"
+She thought about the children and felt nothing.  She had cried all
+her tears for her babies.  Now, everyone else would know what she'd
+been through.
 
- The ground was turned over near the pig-run and there were droppings that steamed. Jack bent down to them as though he loved them.
+War meant sacrifice.  The Bible said an eye for an eye.  A child for a
+child.  Two grandchildren for her grandchildren.  A daughter for her
+daughter.  A father for Jake's father.
 
- "Ralph--we need meat even if we are hunting the other thing."
+With one more look at the building, she turned away.  Around her,
+people were running toward the destruction.  But she walked quickly in
+the other direction.
 
- "If you mean going the right way, we'll hunt."
+She'd planned other shots in this war, and she was going to make sure
+they were done right.
 
- They set off again, the hunters bunched a little by fear of the mentioned beast, while Jack quested ahead. They went more slowly than Ralph had bargained for; yet in a way he was glad to loiter, cradling his spear. Jack came up against some emergency of his craft and soon the procession stopped. Ralph leaned against a tree and at once the daydreams came swarming up. Jack was in charge of the hunt and there would be time to get to the mountain--
+7
 
- Once, following his father fromChatham to Devonport, they had lived in a cottage on the edge of the moors. In the succession of houses that Ralph had known, this one stood out with particular clarity because after that house he had been sent away to school. Mummy had still been with them and Daddy had come home every day. Wild ponies came to the stone wall at the bottom of the garden, and it had snowed. Just behind the cottage there was a sort of shed and you could lie up there, watching the flakes swirl past. You could see the damp spot where each flake died, then you could mark the first flake that lay down without melting and watch, the whole ground turn white. You could go indoors when you were cold and look out of the window, past the bright copper kettle and the plate with the little blue men.
+June 5, 2018
 
- When you went to bed there was a bowl of cornflakes with sugar and cream. And the books--they stood on the shelf by the bed, leaning together with always two or three laid flat on top because he had not bothered to put them back properly. They were dog-eared and scratched. There was the bright, shining one about Topsy and Mopsy that he never read because it was about two girls; there was the one about the magician which you read with a kind of tied-down terror, skipping page twenty-seven with the awful picture of the spider; there was a book about people who had dug things up, Egyptian things; there was _The Boy's Book of Trains_, _The Boy's Book of Ships_. Vividly they came before him; he could have reached up and touched them, could feel the weight and slow slide with which _The Mammoth Book for Boys_ would come out and slither down. . . . Everything was all right; everything was good-humored and friendly.
+10:22 Universal Time
 
- The bushes crashed ahead of them. Boys flung themselves wildly from the pig track and scrabbled in the creepers, screaming. Ralph saw Jack nudged aside and fall. Then there was a creature bounding along the pig track toward him, with tusks gleaming and an intimidating grunt. Ralph found he was able to measure the distance coldly and take aim. With the boar only five yards away, he flung the foolish wooden stick that he carried, saw it hit the great snout and hang there for a moment. The boar's note changed to a squeal and it swerved aside into the covert. The pig-run filled with shouting boys again, Jack came running back, and poked about in the undergrowth.
+131 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Through here--"
+The command chamber inside the warship was large and round, a perfect
+circle.  Cicoi stood at the entrance, his upper tentacles rising in
+astonishment as they had every time he had entered this chamber.
 
- "But he'd do us!"
+The command positions, circles built onto the walls and extended so
+that the officers seem to float by ranks, had all been repaired.  The
+Commander's circle was in the middle on the only real floor.  Before it
+were half a dozen round balls, all of which represented a different
+information feed about the third planet.
 
- "Through here, I said--"
+A cone-shaped command center encircled the Commander's position, with
+ten spots built into the board to rest upper tentacles during long
+battles.  The entire design, using perfect shapes throughout, would
+relax a crew that had had a long space voyage or suffered a long tense
+battle.
 
- The boar was floundering away from them. They found another pig-run parallel to the first and Jack raced away. Ralph was full of fright and apprehension and pride.
+Cicoi didn't want to think about the battles that had been waged from
+here.  He knew enough of his people's history to know that those
+battles had been waged against either the North or the Center.  Once
+upon a time, his people battled themselves.
 
- "I hit him! The spear stuck in--"
+Now they had a truce, built by circumstance and need.  It was no
+longer as fragile as it had been when the Elders decided to save the
+planet, but there was still talk that if the survival situation ever
+eased, Malmur would separate itself into three distinct sections once
+more.
+
+Cicoi wasn't here as Commander of the South.  He was here as leader of
+the fleet.  He had come to customize the command center for himself.
+This ship, the first warship to be fully repaired, would be the
+flagship for the new battle.  His experience gained him the position of
+leader of the fleet.  His youth had raised him above the other two
+contenders: the Commanders of the North and Center.  The Elders
+believed that Cicoi had the reflexes, both mental and physical, to
+withstand a long battle.  Since no one except the Elders had ever used
+this warship, true battle experience did not exist, and Cicoi had a
+hunch that the Elders were lying about the real reason they wanted him
+to lead.
+
+They did think him more physically able: that was true.  But they also
+thought him more malleable than the others, more willing to do their
+bidding.
+
+And he was.  Cicoi had always bowed to experience.  He did not know the
+history of these ships well enough to know when the Elders had used
+them, but he knew from his Elder's sharp commands, barked to Cicoi from
+inside his own brain, that the Elder had once commanded the flagship
+himself.
+
+Against whom or what Cicoi could not imagine--and was not even sure he
+wanted to.
+
+The rungs leading to the command circle were built into the wall, and
+Cicoi had fallen in love with them immediately.  He could wrap a
+tentacle around one and hold himself in place, while placing another
+tentacle above to pull himself up, or another tentacle below to ease
+himself down.  After only a few weeks, he had already become so
+accustomed to this design that he moved along it rapidly, sometimes
+choosing to hang from the rungs while he gave orders to his repair
+crews.
+
+They had looked at him with a mixture of fright and awe.  The Elder
+had told him that the rungs had once been the latest design, the newest
+technology--the last new technology invented before the great move
+through the darkness of space-and there had been no time to implement
+it planet wide
+
+Cicoi wished their sun still existed.  He wished he had seen the light
+and the plant life, and the waters Malmur once had.  He wished all the
+buildings he frequented had had rungs instead of glide paths that broke
+down, or ramps that strained the tentacles, or even the awkward steps
+that had been cut into rock and tangled tentacles into awful messes.
+
+The Elders had the wisdom of technology.  Cicoi wished he had seen what
+other things their fertile brains could have created.
+
+Even though the Elders had saved all of their lives-indeed, made it
+possible for Cicoi to be hatched.
+
+And now, they made it possible for Cicoi to lead a fleet that would
+rescue his planet once again.
+
+Cicoi grabbed a rung with his tenth upper tentacle and pulled himself
+upward, working his tentacles as the Elder had taught him: tenth,
+ninth, eighth, and so on, until it became time to repeat.  His lower
+tentacles did not mirror, but floated free.
+
+In space, the Elder warned him, gravity was sometimes lost on the
+warships--destroyed--or the energy from the gravity controls was moved
+to weapons or propulsion.  The rungs made it possible for any command
+staff who were knocked loose or in the wrong place to return to their
+stations.
+
+The stations were also models of innovation.  In the harvester vessels,
+the circles were marks on the floors, as they were in the buildings
+planet wide  In the warship, there were tentacle hooks in the circles
+as well, so no matter what happened to the ship, the staff could remain
+in place.
+
+Cicoi's upper tentacles twitched with anticipation.  He longed to get
+this vessel spaceward.  He longed already for the fight.
+
+He glided across the floor and stood in the command circle.  From this
+place, he could see all the other stations, above and below.  Around
+him, if he needed it, the entire inside of the command chamber would
+become a viewer that would show him the vastness of space.  He would
+see in three dimensions, pointing his eye stalks in all ten directions,
+including the lesser directions of above and below.
+
+The Elder had told Cicoi to practice this maneuver so that he would not
+become dizzy at crucial parts in the battle.  Cicoi had promised he
+would, and he had also ordered his team to do the same.
+
+They would be ready.  He would not underestimate the creatures of the
+third planet again.
+
+Cicoi straightened all his tentacles and streamlined his body.  He
+slowly raised his eye stalks as he would before the formal order to
+launch the ship, and he turned them in the proper ten directions,
+feeling that half moment of dizziness as stalks two and seven went
+above and below simultaneously.  Then he extended his upper tentacles,
+resting them on the console in the designated areas.  His lower
+tentacles wrapped the rungs inside his command circle.
+
+Never before had his body been fully utilized like this.  He understood
+now why the Elder wanted him to practice.
+
+Cicoi examined, from his post, all areas of his command chamber.  This
+was the first time he had ever been inside it alone.  First he had come
+with his Elder, and the command chamber had been a mess of collapsed
+circles, shattered rungs, and dust.  The Elder had been distressed by
+this, his tentacles wrapped around his body, all but one of his eye
+stalks protruding as if he couldn't stand the sight of the destruction
+time had wrought.
+
+All the other visits Cicoi had made had been to check on the progress
+of his repair team, and to learn how to run this command chamber.  As
+the Elder taught him the tricks of the command circle, repair workers
+floated around them, tentacles clinging to rungs, or stations, or
+suspending them above work areas.
+
+It had seemed like a pod-hive to him then, a child's pod hive, safe and
+full of countless bodies learning how to move tentacles without
+tangling them.
+
+Until now Cicoi had no idea this chamber was so vast.  Or how much
+power it seemed to have in its glistening parts.  It made him feel as
+if he could win anything, anything they faced, just by standing in this
+circle at this time.
+
+And that, of course, was how he was supposed to feel.  The comfort of
+circles, the confidence they gave.
+
+But now the repair crews, trained as the Elder taught them through
+Cicoi--and in the process giving Cicoi more power than he'd ever had
+before--had moved on to the other ships.  They had to work at full
+strength.  Cicoi spared all the workers he could for this, but even
+that fell short.
+
+The warships were so badly neglected, the damage time had caused so
+terrible, that the amount of work to fix them was tremendous.  Even
+with this repair crew working at full ability, no more than ten
+warships would be ready by the time Malmur was in position to launch
+them.
+
+Cicoi was taking a large risk moving this many workers to warship
+repair.  Malmur needed a new harvester ship.  It needed to absorb all
+the energy it could from this Pass around the sun.  It needed to make
+provisions for the problems that had occurred last Pass.
+
+And now the Elders were siphoning off more of the workers, making them
+work on the Sulas.  The Elders wanted as many Sulas as possible.
+Instead of two harvests, the Elders wanted to do three, and that would
+take millions and millions of additional Sulas to replace the ones lost
+each harvest.  The Elders had programmed the Sulas so that they would
+eat quicker, which would enable the extra harvest, but it also meant
+that they would use additional energy.
+
+Cicoi's people were working all the time, with very short rest breaks.
+As the Elder said, sleep was something that happened in darkness, not
+light.  Still Cicoi knew most of his people would rather have their
+stalks in their pockets once per deca unit  It kept them fresh.  He
+worried about errors.
+
+He worried about a thousand things.
+
+He even considered asking the non fertile females to leave the pods and
+come to work, but the training would be terrible.  Still, there were
+easy jobs that even an untrained worker could do.  Suggesting such a
+thing, though, was close to heresy, and he feared doing it.
+
+If things got much worse, however, he would ask that the females become
+involved.
+
+His tentacles were growing tired.  His eye stalks were quivering
+slightly.  Holding this position was much more difficult than he had
+thought.
+
+He snapped his eye stalks into their pockets and relaxed his lower
+tentacles.  Then he let his upper tentacles rest against his sides.
+
+He had much to do before he met with the Elder again.  Cicoi needed to
+check the newest batch of Sulas, the ones designed not for the third
+planet, but for the dead fourth planet.  In this last Pass through this
+particular solar system, the harvester ships would make a stop at the
+fourth planet as well, and strip it of raw materials.
+
+Cicoi hoped the materials on the fourth planet would be worth the
+effort.  The loss of energy in this last effort had been tremendous.
+Workers reassigned.  New parts for these warships.  New Sulas.
+
+Cicoi did not know what the plan was.  He had tried to ask several
+times.  But the Elder had told him he would learn what he needed to
+when he needed to.
+
+Only, Cicoi was beginning to believe he would never learn of the plan.
+And he feared he was trusting in the wrong place.  The Elders had lived
+in a time of unlimited energy.  They hadn't experienced an entire
+lifetime of deprivation.
+
+Cicoi had.  And he knew the cost of each bit of energy used.  If it
+wasn't replaced, then the Malmuria would die off slowly, unable to
+support new pods, new life, new anything.
+
+Malmur would be dead.
+
+And it would be his fault.
+
+June 5, 2018
+
+5:10 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
+
+131 Days Until Second Harvest
+
+"Lunch," Bradshaw said as he backed through the door of Portia's lab at
+Nan Tech  He held one large greasy white bag, and balanced a drink
+holder in his left hand.  Portia's giant cup of Surge had spilled
+twice, and his fingers were sticky.  He'd have to wash them before he
+got any work done at all.
+
+Not that he was really working.  Sometime in the last month, he had
+gone from being the adviser on fossils to the fetch-and carry man for
+Portia Groopman.  She didn't seem to notice and he really didn't mind.
+There wasn't much for a nearly retired professor of archaeology to do
+anymore, anyway.
+
+After Leo Cross first got in touch with Bradshaw, a year earlier, the
+first six months had been heady.  Suddenly archaeology had a relevance
+to modern society--more of a relevance than it usually did.  So many
+archaeologists mouthed the old trope: You won't understand your present
+if you don't understand your past.  But few believed it.  Bradshaw
+found it ironic that the thing that discredited him--the alien
+nanomachines
+
+he found fossilized decades ago--were the things on which all of
+society depended today.
+
+Now, since his training had again become moot for the moment, he stuck
+close to Portia, helping in every fashion that he could.  He had begun
+to feel responsible for her.
+
+Portia's parents were mostly absent.  They felt that since Portia had
+found a profession she loved, and was making more than enough money,
+she could take care of herself.  And she could.  She had always done
+so, even when her parents' medical expenses had far surpassed their
+teachers' salaries, and caused them to get thrown onto the street.
+Portia had always found ways to survive.
+
+But Bradshaw believed people needed to do more than survive.  He
+believed they needed affection and caring and a useful purpose.  Portia
+had affection from her coworkers and a useful purpose.  But she didn't
+really have anyone to care for her.
+
+Until him.  He saw himself as the grandfather she had never known.
+Although if he really and truly were her grandfather, he would buy her
+a house, with a soft comfortable bed, and make her sleep in it once in
+a while.  He was probably the only person who knew that Portia had lied
+about having an apartment.  She slept at Nan Tech showered at the
+health club across the street, and often bought her food from vending
+machines.
+
+The least he could do was make certain that she was well fed.  He'd
+actually set the chime on his watch to go off every three hours, and he
+supplied either a snack or a meal, whichever was necessary.
+
+This time, he was bringing lunch.  He'd found a superb deli two blocks
+away that made sandwiches of a kind he'd never seen.  Stacked with
+meat, lettuce, tomatoes and whatever other vegetables he wanted,
+cheeses, and some kind of sauce that was to die for, all on a caraway
+rye that caught in the teeth and
 
- Now they came, unexpectedly, to an open space by the sea. Jack cast about on the bare rock and looked anxious.
+lingered on the tongue.  The smell of these sandwiches alone could
+pull Portia away from her research long enough to eat, and today, he
+was counting on that.
+
+She'd been working nonstop all night long.  He couldn't get her to quit
+and sleep.  He'd finally gone home around eleven-he was of no use to
+anyone if he didn't sleep--and when he woke up, feeling guilty, at 4
+a.m."  he called.  Portia answered, wide awake.  No, she hadn't slept.
+No, she didn't know what time it was.  And no, she didn't care.
 
- "He's gone."
+She kept the shades in the lab drawn so that it was perpetual night.
+The lights made everything look washed out.  Portia had her own lab at
+Nan Tech--she was that valuable to the company--and it had her usual
+collection of stuffed animals lining the walls.  The computer systems
+were elaborate and the screens were huge.  Much of the actual work was
+done by computers, with robotic arms that had different tools for the
+smallest bits of work.
 
- "I hit him," said Ralph again, "and the spear stuck in a bit."
+She was sitting at the main desk, two large computer screens turned
+toward her.  Her hair was mussed, its stylish do so long overgrown that
+it was ragged.  She wasn't the composed girl he had met half a year
+before.
 
- He felt the need of witnesses.
+"I got roast beef for you," he said, coming around the table.  "Lots of
+spicy mustard as usual.  Extra cheddar, like usual, and they were
+saving a beefsteak tomato for you so that you'd get a really thick
+slice."
 
- "Didn't you see me?"
+"Mmm," she said, not because the food sounded good, but because she had
+heard his voice and had to respond.
 
- Maurice nodded.
+That response used to fool him, but it didn't any longer.
 
- "I saw you. Right bang on his snout--Wheee!"
+"Lunch," he said again, coming through the opening between the tables.
+He was about to set the white bag down on the empty tabletop when she
+said, "Don't!"
 
- Ralph talked on, excitedly.
+He frowned at her.
 
- "I hit him all right. The spear stuck in. I wounded him!"
+"I've got the nanoharvesters out, and I don't want anything near them.
+Especially anything that smells that good."
 
- He sunned himself in their new respect and felt that hunting was good after all.
+"The nanoharvesters."  He went to the refrigerator and put the
+sandwiches inside.  His stomach was jumping.  She had said she wouldn't
+get the alien machines out until she had a prototype.  "You had a
+workable idea, and you didn't tell me?"
 
- "I walloped him properly. That was the beast, I think!" Jack came back.
+"I made the breakthrough after you crashed," she said.  "This morning,
+over--what the hell were those things?"
 
- "That wasn't the beast. That was a boar."
+He thought of the incredibly gooey donuts they'd had this morning:
+thick whipped icing, cream in the middle, chocolate underneath.  "I
+don't know what they're called," he said.  "A Dunkin' Donuts specialty
+I've loved since I was in grad school."
 
- "I hit him."
+"They had Dunkin' Donuts then?"  she asked, teasing him about his age
+as she always did.  But he could tell her heart wasn't really into
+it.
 
- "Why didn't you grab him? I tried--"
+"You were making the excuses as to why you weren't going to tell me
+about the prototype."
 
- Ralph's voice ran up.
+"Oh, yeah," she said.  "This morning over the Dunkin' Donuts specialty
+you love, you wanted to talk about that little incident in Coeur
+d'Alene, Idaho.  So I let you."
 
- "But a boar!"
+His mood slipped a little.  After talking to Portia, he'd been able to
+put his upset in the back of his mind.  Now she reminded him of it.
 
- Jack flushed suddenly.
+Four bombs had gone off the day before in a home just outside Coeur
+d'Alene, killing a husband and wife.  The neighbors were closed-lipped
+about what happened, but a few folks from the town said there had been
+a lot of suspicious activity lately, and a lot of outsiders coming into
+Northern Idaho.  There was talk, the locals said, of an attempt to
+overthrow the government, and a specific group, which the husband and
+wife belonged to, was involved.
 
- "You said he'd do us. What did you want to throw for? Why didn't you wait?
+The bombing of the IRS building in Memphis was just a first step in
+that plan, many believed.
 
- He held out his arm.
+The antigovernment group's leader, Vivian Hartlein, was agrandmotherly
+type who had lost her daughter and her grandchildren in the alien
+attack on California.  She'd sounded reasonable enough, and had even
+laughed at the idea of overthrowing the government.  But she had said,
+in the interview Bradshaw had watched, that she didn't understand why
+so many people had "swallowed the story of an alien attack."
 
- "Look."
+This was the beginning of something, Bradshaw knew.  And he only hoped
+it would fade away before the aliens returned.
 
- He turned his left forearm for them all to see. On the outside was a rip; not much, but bloody.
+"Earth to Edwin," Portia said.
 
- "He did that with his tusks. I couldn't get my spear down in time."
+He looked at her.
 
- Attention focused on Jack.
+"Still thinking about the idiots?"
 
- "That's a wound," said Simon, "and you ought to suck it. Like Berengaria."
+"I guess," he said.  "I've seen too many of them in my lifetime."
 
- Jack sucked.
+"Yeah, well, they never really hurt anyone except themselves."
 
- "I hit him," said Ralph indignantly. "I hit him with my spear, I wounded him."
+"Spoken like a true twenty-year-old," he said.
 
- He tried for their attention.
+She looked at him, somewhat hurt.  She always commented on his age, but
+he never commented on hers.  And never in such a derogatory way.
 
- "He was coming along the path. I threw, like this--"
+"I'm sorry," he said.  "I was in Oklahoma City on business during the
+bombing.  I saw what idiots like that can do, and I've never forgotten
+it."
 
- Robert snarled at him. Ralph entered into the play and everybody laughed. Presently they were all jabbing at Robert who made mock rushes.
+"What bombing?"  she asked.
 
- Jack shouted.
+He felt a small stab to the heart.  Of course she wouldn't know.  She
+hadn't even been born yet, and her education was anything but formal.
 
- "Make a ring!"
+"Never mind," he said.  "What do you have?"
 
- The circle moved in and round. Robert squealed in mock terror, then in real pain.
+"A prototype," she said.  "I was about to test it.  Want to watch?"
 
- "Ow! Stop it! You're hurting!"
+He'd watched two other tests of her prototypes.  They had consisted of
+a small Portia-made nanomachine on one side of the big computer
+screen--the machine was blown up to a hundred times life-size, of
+course--and an alien nanoharvester
 
- The butt end of a spear fell on his back as he blundered among them.
+on the other.  Theoretically, the Portia-made machine was supposed to
+demolish the alien machine, but in both cases nothing happened.
 
- "Hold him!"
+And Bradshaw had had to calm Portia down afterward and get her back to
+work.  It wasn't that she was angry so much as extremely frustrated.
+This was the first time she'd ever had to make more than one attempt at
+solving a nanotechnology problem that she'd put this much time into.
 
- They got his arms and legs. Ralph, carried away by a sudden thick excitement, grabbed Eric's spear and jabbed at Robert with it.
+The troubles of prodigies, he'd thought more than once.  They never
+learned patience.
 
- "Kill him! Kill him!"
+"All right," he said.  "But after the test, you eat."
 
- All at once, Robert was screaming and struggling with the strength of frenzy. Jack had him by the hair and was brandishing his knife. Behind him was Roger, fighting to get close. The chant rose ritually, as at the last moment of a dance or a hunt.
+"Yes, Gramps."  She kicked out a chair beside her, and he sat on it.
 
- "_Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Kill the pig! Bash him in!_"
+The alien nanoharvester was already on the screen.  Its strange shape
+and eerie markings looked more alien every time he saw them.
 
- Ralph too was fighting to get near, to get a handful of that brown, vulnerable flesh. The desire to squeeze and hurt was over-mastering.
+Portia bent over the microscope part of her computer and, using an
+extremely tiny tool that looked like a miniature tweezers, placed
+something on the slide.
 
- Jack's arm came down; the heaving circle cheered and made pig-dying noises. Then they lay quiet, panting, listening to Robert's frightened snivels. He wiped his face with a dirty arm, and made an effort to retrieve his status.
+A round, gray nanomachine appeared on the edge of the computer screen.
+The Portia-made machine was a lot more aesthetically pleasing, with its
+precise and sensible design, and Bradshaw was starting to ruminate on
+the differences between species, when suddenly Portia's nanomachine
+began to move.
 
- "Oh, my bum!"
+"Oh, shit," she said, but she sounded pleased.
 
- He rubbed his rump ruefully. Jack rolled over.
+It seemed to slide across the screen like a magnet heading for steel,
+and attached itself to the alien nanoharvester.  Portia's machine
+quivered and Bradshaw suddenly realized that this looked like sex to
+him, sex between two incompatible insects--like a ladybug trying to
+mount an ant.
 
- "That was a good game."
+The thought gave him shudders.
 
- "Just a game," said Ralph uneasily. "I got jolly badly hurt at rugger once."
+"Oh, God," Portia said.
 
- "We ought to have a drum," said Maurice, "then we could do it properly."
+Finally her nanomachine stopped quivering.  She looked at some
+numerical specs that had been running on the other screen, and let out
+a whoop.
 
- Ralph looked at him.
+The sound made Bradshaw jump.
 
- "How properly?"
+"Edwin!"  she said.  "We did it!"
 
- "I dunno. You want a fire, I think, and a drum, and you keep time to the drum.
+He smiled at the "we."  He hadn't had anything to do with it, as
+evidenced by the fact that he didn't know how she knew she'd
+succeeded.
 
- "You want a pig," said Roger, "like a real hunt."
+"Well," he said a bit cautiously, "I know you got your nanomachine to
+attack, but how do we know that it killed the alien machine?"
 
- "Or someone to pretend," said Jack. "You could get someone to dress up as a pig and then he could act--you know, pretend to knock me over and all that."
+"Edwin," she said, sounding disappointed in him.  "I showed you how the
+power grids worked last time."
 
- "You want a real pig," said Robert, still caressing his rump, "because you've got to kill him."
+She had, too.  He had understood the theory.  One of the few
+breakthroughs she had been able to make on the alien nanoharvesters was
+to read their energy signature.  She had shown him how, but he hadn't
+understood it then.  He certainly didn't understand it now.
 
- "Use a littlun," said Jack, and everybody laughed.
+"My machine drained the energy from theirs.  Look!"  She pointed to the
+information running down the other screen.  "That's all mine.  And see
+the spike?  That's where it absorbed the energy from the alien
+machine."
 
- 
+She clapped her hands together like a child in front of a surprise
+birthday cake.  Bradshaw grinned.
 
- Ralph sat up.
+"This is so wonderful.  I conquered the molecular atomic attraction
+problem last night, but I just guessed on the energy signatures.  And
+bingo, ban go bongo, we've got it!"
 
- "Well. We shan't find what we're looking for at this rate."
+"Do we tell Leo?"  Bradshaw asked.
 
- One by one they stood up, twitching rags into place.
+"Not until we repeat this experiment half a dozen times," she said,
+leaning forward.
 
- Ralph looked at Jack.
+He put a hand on her shoulder.  "You've made a breakthrough," he said.
+"You deserve lunch."
 
- "Now for the mountain."
+She waved a hand at him.  "No time."
 
- "Shouldn't we go back to Piggy," said Maurice, "before dark?"
+"No time for passing out from hunger either."  He tugged at her arm.
+She didn't move.  "Come with me, or I'll bring the sandwiches over here
+and contaminate your nanoharvesters."
 
- The twins nodded like one boy.
+She stood instantly.  "You don't play fair, Edwin."
 
- "Yes, that's right. Let's go up there in the morning."
+He grinned.  "I want our resident girl genius to continue wowing the
+troops."
 
- Ralph looked out and saw the sea.
+"There aren't any troops," she said.
 
- "We've got to start the fire again."
+"There's me."
 
- "You haven't got Piggy's specs," said Jack, "so you can't.''
+"Do I wow you, Gramps?"
 
- "Then we'll find out if the mountain's clear."
+"All the time," he said, clapping her on the shoulder.  "All the damn
+time."
 
- Maurice spoke, hesitating, not wanting to seem a funk.
+June 5, 2018
 
- "Supposing the beast's up there?"
+8:45 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- Jack brandished his spear.
+131 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "We'll kill it."
+Leo Cross's security bracelet bumped against his wrist.  The plastic
+itched, and he wasn't used to wearing anything on his right side.  His
+wrist'puter was on his left, and it had taken him years to get used to
+that.  But the bracelet was a small price to pay to be here now.
 
- The sun seemed a little cooler. He slashed with the spear.
+He was in Britt's main lab, surrounded by nearly twenty scientists.  A
+dozen more sat in a special viewing room, with a few special guests.
+Britt had used her guest pass to invite Mickelson.  She had brought
+Cross into the main area as an adviser.
 
- "What are we waiting for?"
+Hayes and Shane were on the floor, looking as uncomfortable as Cross
+was.  It was all he could do to keep from standing beside them.  He was
+dodging scurrying people, doing his best to stay out of the way.
 
- "I suppose," said Ralph, "if we keep on by the sea this way, we'll come out below the burnt bit and then we can climb the mountain.
+This wasn't his kind of science.  His kind of science involved digging
+and thinking and a few computerized tools.  But Britt's involved
+computers everywhere, large screens that relayed information, and
+smaller equipment for telemetry.  Speakers stood on one side of the
+room, wired into even more
 
- Once more Jack led them along by the suck and heave of the blinding sea.
+computer hardware, to amplify any ambient noise, although no one
+really expected there to be any.
 
- Once more Ralph dreamed, letting his skillful feet deal with the difficulties of the path. Yet here his feet seemed less skillful than before. For most of the way they were forced right down to the bare rock by the water and had to edge along between that and the dark luxuriance of the forest. There were little cliffs to be scaled, some to be used as paths, lengthy traverses where one used hands as well as feet. Here and there they could clamber over wave-wet rock, leaping across clear pools that the tide had left. They came to a gully that split the narrow foreshore like a defense. This seemed to have no bottom and they peered awe-stricken into the gloomy crack where water gurgled. Then the wave came back, the gully boiled before them and spray dashed up to the very creeper so that the boys were wet and shrieking. They tried the forest but it was thick and woven like a bird's nest. In the end they had to jump one by one, waiting till the water sank; and even so, some of them got a second drenching. After that the rocks seemed to be growing impassable so they sat for a time, letting their rags dry and watching the clipped outlines of the rollers that moved so slowly past the island. They found fruit in a haunt of bright little birds that hovered like insects. Then Ralph said they were going too slowly. He himself climbed a tree and parted the canopy, and saw the square head of the mountain seeming still a great way off. Then they tried to hurry along the rocks and Robert cut his knee quite badly and they had to recognize that this path must be taken slowly if they were to be safe. So they proceeded after that as if they were climbing a dangerous mountain, until the rocks became an uncompromising cliff, overhung with impossible jungle and falling sheer into the sea.
+They were going on-line with a probe, launched five days ago on an
+intercept course with the tenth planet.  The probe was outfitted with
+equipment that would send all sorts of information back to Earth, from
+simple things that Cross would have thought of like visual and audio
+scans, to more complicated things such as devices that measured
+temperatures and surface composition.  There would be infrared scans,
+and energy scans, and all sorts of other things that no one had
+bothered to tell him.
 
- Ralph looked at the sun critically.
+What he did know was that this was only the first of five probes.  The
+second probe was launched three days ago, and would come on-line
+tomorrow.  The next one would be launched in two days, with the
+remaining probes launched in rather quick succession.
 
- "Early evening. After tea-time, at any rate."
+The hope was that all of the probes would land on the tenth planet. The
+predicted best-case scenario was that one of them would get through.
 
- "I don't remember this cliff," said Jack, crestfallen, "so this must be the bit of the coast I missed."
+Cross knew that Britt was worried that none of them would get through,
+that the aliens would have some sort of orbital defense of the planet.
+Cross doubted it, though.  Never before had those creatures been
+attacked, at least not by humans.
 
- Ralph nodded.
+Britt was moving from screen to screen, completely focused on getting
+everything ready.  She lingered near the audio area, leaning toward the
+mathematical readouts.  Cross took a step closer.  He had seen the
+trials on this equipment and knew enough to recognize wave patterns and
+the Fourier Scale, but some of the other work looked completely
+unfamiliar to him.  The physics of sound never interested him very
+much, not until now, when it suddenly became important.
 
- "Let me think."
+Another scientist moved past him.  Cross had long ago stopped looking
+at little name badges attached to the lapels.  There were just too many
+people here he didn't know.  Early
 
- By now, Ralph had no self-consciousness in public thinking but would treat the day's decisions as though he were playing chess. The only trouble was that he would never be a very good chess player. He thought of the littluns and Piggy. Vividly he imagined Piggy by himself, huddled in a shelter that was silent except for the sounds of nightmare.
+on, Britt had tried to introduce him, but he must have gotten that
+blank overloaded look, because she soon stopped.
 
- "We can't leave the littluns alone with Piggy. Not all night."
+"Coming on-line now," said the middle-aged redheaded guy up front with
+a starburst tattoo on his right cheek.
 
- The other boys said nothing but stood round, watching him.
+Cross looked at the screen directly before him, just like the others
+did.  Numbers and figures ran across the screens.
 
- "If we went back we should take hours."
+"Put the telemetry on One," Britt said.  "I want visuals onscreen
+only."
 
- Jack cleared his throat and spoke in a queer, tight voice. "We mustn't let anything happen to Piggy, must we?" Ralph tapped his teeth with the dirty point of Eric's spear.
+She had warned Cross she would do that.  There were particular
+scientists trained to read the telemetry.  Everyone else found it
+annoying and distracting.
 
- "If we go across--"
+"No sound except the probe itself," said one of the women.
 
- He glanced round him.
+"Readings near the probe are exactly what we expect in space," said
+someone else.
 
- "Someone's got to go across the island and tell Piggy we'll be back after dark."
+"Visuals coming on-line now," said the redhead.
 
- Bill spoke, unbelieving.
+Cross felt the muscles in his back tighten.  The screens went blank for
+a moment, then filled with the blackness of space.  Blackness and
+stars.  He wondered how many other aliens were out there, how many
+other cultures existed on how many distant worlds, worlds he couldn't
+even see, not with the help of probes or oversized telescopes.
 
- "Through the forest by himself? Now?"
+He had never expected, in all his years, to learn that aliens existed.
+And even if they had, he wouldn't have expected them to be so
+hostile.
+
+So far the probe showed nothing new.  But Cross didn't expect it.  It
+was a miracle to get the information back.  Ultimately, though, he
+wanted images of the tenth planet.  He wanted to know what the surface
+looked like, what else the aliens had built besides spaceships and
+nanoharvesters.  He wanted to know as much about them as he did about
+the ancient cultures he'd been studying his whole life.
+
+The blackness of space was taunting him.
+
+All over the world, in war rooms just like this, scientists were
+looking at these images, and wanting more.
+
+Suddenly science had become the key to everything.  Andhumans had to
+work together to solve scientific puzzles that five years ago they
+hadn't even known existed.
+
+More scientists were linked now than ever.  More information was being
+shared than ever before.  For the first time in its existence, the
+Earth was united in a common goal.
+
+8
+
+June 15, 2018
+
+6:02 Universal Time
+
+121 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "We can't spare more than one."
+The command center inside the International Space Station was a pile of
+ancient computers held together by buckets and bolts.  Every time Gail
+Banks entered it, she half expected to see a pan beneath the so-called
+ceiling, collecting water drippings, like the house of her childhood.
+Badly constructed roof, walls that were falling apart, and parts that
+never should have been glued together.  The station was like that, and
+as more and more modules were built on, no one thought to move the
+command center.  Occasionally one of the countries that worked on the
+station sent up new computer equipment and it was cobbled onto the
+rest.  The result was a hacker's paradise, which made a by-the-book
+woman like Banks want to pull her hair out.
 
- Simon pushed his way to Ralph's elbow.
+Especially at a time like this.
 
- "I'll go if you like. I don't mind, honestly."
+She needed to launch three hundred missiles, and she only had enough
+equipment in the command center to handle a hundred at a time.  She was
+relying on the shuttles to provide backup.  Fortunately, though, her
+ISS team was a prepared group of hackers, and they had managed to
+jury-rig something.  She wasn't happy with it, but it would do.
 
- Before Ralph had time to reply, he smiled quickly, turned and climbed into the forest.
+Her staff was scattered at the various posts.  They were top-notch,
+well trained and ready.  She'd already briefed the backup shuttle
+pilots and the mission control folks back home.
 
- Ralph looked back at Jack, seeing him, infuriatingly, for the first time.
+They were as ready as they were going to be.
 
- "Jack--that time you went the whole way to the castle rock."
+She peered at the nearest monitor.  The image she had chosen to watch
+was a real-time image of the missiles hanging in space.  She was going
+to have three staggered launches, one hundred each launch.  If she
+hadn't been so rushed, she would have moved the damn command center to
+a more sensible part of the ISS, and she would have waited until Earth
+sent her better equipment.
 
- Jack glowered.
+But she had known when she took this job the need for haste, and she
+had known she would have to jury-rig things.  She did receive
+permission, when this was all over, to develop a new command center on
+the ISS, and she did put in requisitions for new equipment.
+Unfortunately, none of the changes would come when she needed them.
 
- "Yes?"
+And she prayed that she wouldn't need them later.
 
- "You came along part of this shore--below the mountain, beyond there."
+This project had to work.  She'd given her whole heart and soul to
+it.
 
- "Yes."
+As she watched, the countdown started behind her.  How many times had
+she listened to countdowns like this, getting ready to launch
+missiles--fire rockets, so that shuttles could go into orbit.  Never
+before had she experienced it while she was in orbit, or while the
+missiles were in orbit.
 
- "And then?"
+She had this horrible fear that some of the missiles wouldn't make it
+out of Earth's gravitational well.  It was a fear she admitted to no
+one, although she did ground two Ukrainian missiles after examining
+them herself.  They'd clearly been dug out of a silo that was built in
+the 1950s, and there was no way she would let them contaminate her
+project.
 
- "I found a pig-run. It went for miles."
+Her project.  She let out a sigh and stood up.
 
- "So the pig-run must be somewhere in there."
+"General?"  one of the women said.  "Everything all right?""I can't
+watch a launch on a monitor," she said.  It always made her feel as if
+she were out of the loop somehow.  Of course she usually felt that way
+when she wasn't hands-on.  Command really wasn't her thing, but she
+knew how to organize people and she had been promoted to this place.
+Sometimes she still longed for the days when she was the one with her
+hand on the joystick, in control of the plane rather than the entire
+project.
 
- Ralph nodded. He pointed at the forest.
+She went to the nearest porthole.  In this part of the ISS, the
+portholes were exactly that, large circles of thick, clear, scratched
+plastic that offered a distorted view into the blackness of space
+beyond.
 
- Everybody agreed, sagely.
+Still, she could see the missiles hanging out there in space, a safe
+distance away from the station, their cylindrical shapes ghosts against
+the darkness.
 
- "All right then. We'll smash a way through till we find the pig-run."
+"General, you can't see clearly from there."
 
- He took a step and halted.
+"I can look at the replay on the monitors and I'm not going to read the
+telemetry," she said.  "I trust you to let me know if anything is going
+wrong."
 
- "Wait a minute though! Where does the pig-run go to?"
+There was too much telemetry for one person to monitor anyway.  Her
+staff had maxed itself out, with as much information as possible on all
+of the screens.
 
- "The mountain," said Jack, "I told you." He sneered. "Don't you want to go to the mountain?"
+She clasped her hands behind her back.
 
- Ralph sighed, sensing the rising antagonism, understanding that this was how Jack felt as soon as he ceased to lead.
+The countdown continued.
 
- "I was thinking of the light. We'll be stumbling about."
+Flares of light appeared at the base of some of the missiles-the older
+ones going through several launching stages.
 
- "We were going to look for the beast."
+Her breath caught in her throat.  Her heart was pounding.  They were
+actually going to do this.  Goddammit.  She had pulled it off.  She had
+thought the task impossible when they assigned it to her.
 
- "There won't be enough light."
+"Three," the computerized voice droned behind her.
 
- "I don't mind going," said Jack hotly. "I'll go when we get there. Won't you? Would you rather go back to the shelters and tell Piggy?"
+"Two."
 
- Now it was Ralph's turn to flush but he spoke despairingly, out of the new understanding that Piggy had given him.
+"One."
 
- "Why do you hate me?"
+"Launch!"  Banks said in her firmest voice.  "Launch commencing," the
+computer voice responded, and her staff murmured its acknowledgment of
+that.
 
- The boys stirred uneasily, as though something indecent had been said. The silence lengthened.
+The blackness in front of her flared into brightness so blinding she
+had to resist looking away.
 
- Ralph, still hot and hurt, turned away first.
+One hundred missiles, launching at the same time.
 
- "Come on."
+Fires burned beneath their bases and together they moved slowly, then
+quickly picked up speed away from the station, heading after a quick
+orbit around Earth into the vastness of space.
 
- He led the way and set himself as by right to hack at the tangles. Jack brought up the rear, displaced and brooding.
+Red and green comm trails danced in front of her eyes, remaining even
+when she closed them.  She felt her heart pounding.  She opened her
+eyes again, and saw bits of color remaining against the backdrop of
+space, but she wasn't sure if that was another trick of her ocular
+nerves.
 
- The pig-track was a dark tunnel, for the sun was sliding quickly toward the edge of the world and in the forest shadows were never far to seek. The track was broad and beaten and they ran along at a swift trot. Then the roof of leaves broke up and they halted, breathing quickly, looking at the few stars that pricked round the head of the mountain.
+"Report," she said, turning around.
 
- "There you are."
+As they had been trained, her assistants called out the information she
+needed.
 
- The boys peered at each other doubtfully. Ralph made a decision.
+"Group One, green."
 
- "We'll go straight across to the platform and climb tomorrow."
+"Group Two, green."
 
- They murmured agreement; but Jack was standing by his shoulder.
+The countdown continued through all twenty groups.  Only four missiles
+had failed to fire, and she had expected that.  They were the oldest
+missiles in this particular batch.  There were more in the next wave of
+missiles, but she didn't have time to have the oldest ones double- and
+triple-checked.  There was no time at all, actually.
 
- "If you're frightened of course--"
+Telemetry covered the screens before her.  The warheads were alive,
+their codes already programmed in.  Some of the missiles even carried
+old-fashioned warheads that detonated on impact, just in case the
+energy-draining shields of the alien ships affected all of the other
+missiles.
 
- Ralph turned on him.
+Warheads.
 
- "Who went first on the castle rock?"
+Nuclear missiles.
 
- "I went too. And that was daylight."
+She had never in her life thought she would be the one to give the
+codes to launch them.
 
- "All right. Who wants to climb the mountain now?" Silence was the only answer.
+But then, she had always expected that, if they were launched, they'd
+be launched at other humans, at Earth.
 
- "Samneric? What about you?"
+She went back to her porthole.  The other missiles hung in their
+orbits, awaiting their launch sequence.
 
- "We ought to go an' tell Piggy--"
+She had two more waves of missiles to launch.  Soon every warhead that
+human beings could get into orbit under short notice, every missile
+that even had a prayer of working, would be hurtling into space.
 
- "--yes, tell Piggy that--"
+She turned to her crew.  "Prepare second launch countdown."  Then she
+turned back to stare out at the blackness of space.
 
- "But Simon went!"
+Earth's greatest hope rested on her shoulders, and she had done all she
+could.
 
- "We ought to tell Piggy--in case--"
+She prayed that would be enough.
 
- "Robert? Bill?"
+June 15, 2018
 
- They were going straight back to the platform now. Not, of course, that they were afraid--but tired.
+2:51 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- Ralph turned back to Jack.
+121 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "You see?"
+Food is sleep, Britt Archer thought to herself as she studied the cold
+pizzas in their greasy boxes that someone had left in the back of the
+lab.  She had a choice of cold pepperoni, cold sausage and mushroom,
+cold vegetarian, and cold pineapple with anchovies.  Of course, there
+were only a few pieces of the first three, and almost the entire
+pineapple and anchovies.  Archer grimaced.  If there was anything worse
+than a pineapple and anchovy pizza, it was a cold pineapple and anchovy
+pizza.
 
- "I'm going up the mountain." The words came from Jack viciously, as though they were a curse. He looked at Ralph, his thin body tensed, his spear held as if he threatened him.
+But she had to eat, because she certainly wasn't going to sleep, not in
+the foreseeable future.
 
- "I'm going up the mountain to look for the beast--now." Then the supreme sting, the casual, bitter word. "Coming?"
+She grabbed the last slice of pepperoni, and then took a slice of
+vegetarian for good measure.  The three pots of coffee
 
- At that word the other boys forgot their urge to be gone and turned back to sample this fresh rub of two spirits in the dark. The word was too good, too bitter, too successfully daunting to be repeated. It took Ralph at low water when his nerve was relaxed for the return to the shelter and the still, friendly waters of the lagoon.
+she'd made someone get from the nearest Starbucks were already gone.
+She'd used some French roast, finely ground, to make a pot in the lab's
+machine, but it wasn't the same.  Besides, her nerves were jangled. She
+must have had enough caffeine to wire the entire Pentagon.
 
- "I don't mind."
+The Pentagon.  She snorted slightly.  Maddox could have warned her.
+Archer had thought the two of them had the beginnings of a friendship.
+To get a phone call this afternoon from Jesse Killius was bad enough.
+Someone could have told her sooner that her entire staff, plus everyone
+else she could muster in all the different labs all over the country,
+would be working well into the night.  It was common courtesy.
 
- Astonished, he heard his voice come out, cool and casual, so that the bitterness of Jack's taunt fell powerless.
+But Archer was beginning to sense that courtesy and secrecy didn't go
+well together at all.  She hadn't even felt comfortable enough to tell
+Leo what was going on when she had to cancel their dinner plans.  She
+had to rely on the good all purpose dodge, telling him that "something"
+had come up.
 
- "If you don't mind, of course."
+Yes, something had come up.  Twenty probes that she had known nothing
+about were suddenly sending back telemetry, and her people had to
+monitor all of it.  Twenty probes, in addition to the other probes her
+staff was in charge of.  Twenty secret probes.  Where the hell had they
+come from?
 
- "Oh, not at all."
+And who launched them?
 
- Jack took a step.
+And from where?
 
- "Well then--"
+Dammit.  She'd thought the entire world was working together.  She
+didn't understand the point of secrecy.  Did the government think that
+the aliens had planted spies among the general populace?  And if so,
+how had they hidden those silly tentacles?
 
- Side by side, watched by silent boys, the two started up the mountain.
+Archer shook her head slightly.  She was getting punchy.  She took a
+bite of pizza, thinking the pepperoni was fine cold, if a little
+greasy.  Her stomach rumbled.  She had no idea when she had last
+eaten.
 
- Ralph stopped.
+Special probes One through Twenty.  She cursed each and every one of
+them for robbing her of her semi decent night's sleep.  And her dinner
+with Leo.  How come she finally discovered a man who understood her and
+at that moment the world decided it was on its last legs?  Was someone
+trying to tell her something?
 
- "We're silly. Why should only two go? If we find anything, two won't be enough."
+"Dr.  Archer," Odette Roosevelt, one of her best researchers, said.
+"Those special probes are sending us signals."
 
- There came the sound of boys scuttling away. Astonishingly, a dark figure moved against the tide.
+Archer shoved a bit more pizza into her mouth, set the plate down,
+grabbed a napkin, and wiped her face and fingers.  She crossed to the
+nearest monitor.
 
- "Roger?"
+She'd had to give a speech tonight, too, the one she hated.  Her staff
+all had high-level security clearance and it was because of days like
+this one.  Her speech had been the usual song-and-dance about
+confidentiality, not speaking to the media on pain of death, and oh,
+yeah, no leaks.  Nothing left this room without Archer's say-so.  And
+she received permission for that from above.
 
- "Yes."
+Killius, who was the one to tell Archer that she and her staff had to
+spend the night together, did say that the information would be
+released to all the war rooms worldwide the following day.
 
- "That's three, then."
+She slipped into the chair in front of the monitor, staring at the
+images that came from Probe One.  With the punch of a button, she could
+switch to telemetry, but she wasn't ready, not yet.  She was frowning
+at the images, trying to make sense of them
 
- Once more they set out to climb the slope of the mountain. The darkness seemed to flow round them like a tide. Jack, who had said nothing, began to choke and cough, and a gust of wind set all three spluttering. Ralph's eyes were blinded with tears.
+Some sort of movement, something in space.  But what?
 
- "Ashes. We're on the edge of the burnt patch."
+"Special Probe Number Two is now on-line," Roosevelt was saying, and
+the screen before Archer split so that she saw two slightly different
+views of the same images.  Space, yes, but a lot more than that.  The
+shapes were cylindrical, and they were moving.
 
- Their footsteps and the occasional breeze were stirring up small devils of dust. Now that they stopped again, Ralph had time while he coughed to remember how silly they were. If there was no beast--and almost certainly there was no beast--in that case, well and good; but if there was something waiting on top of the mountain-- what was the use of three of them, handicapped by the darkness and carrying only sticks?
+What the hell was this?
 
- "We're being fools."
+"Probes Three, Four, and Five are coming onboard together," said Tom
+Cavendish, one of her other assistants.
 
- Out of the darkness came the answer.
+The new images appeared on Archer's monitor.  She gasped, as the
+picture before her finally made sense.  She was staring at rockets
+heading out of Earth's orbit.  Heading into space.
 
- "Windy?"
+A lot more than twenty of them.
 
- Irritably Ralph shook himself. This was all Jack's fault.
+"My God," she whispered.
 
- "'Course I am. But we're still being fools."
+Then she felt a flare of anger.  She had been part of the Tenth Planet
+Project from the beginning and no one had bothered to tell her of this?
+No one had bothered to tell Leo?  This was what Maddox had been so
+secretive about.  What the hell were they doing with rockets?
 
- "If you don't want to go on," said the voice sarcastically, "I'll go up by myself."
+"Dr.  Archer," Roosevelt said, her voice softer this time.  "Do you see
+this?"
 
- Ralph heard the mockery and hated Jack. The sting of ashes in his eyes, tiredness, fear, enraged him.
+"Yes, I do," she said.
 
- "Go on then! We'll wait here."
+"Probe Six is coming on-line," Roosevelt said, in a more businesslike
+tone.
 
- There was silence.
+Probe Six didn't add much to the picture that Archer already had.  She
+frowned.  What was going on?  Why launch so many probes and all at the
+same thing?
 
- "Why don't you go? Are you frightened?" A stain in the darkness, a stain that was Jack, detached itself and began to draw away.
+"We have Probe Seven," Cavendish said.
 
- "All right. So long."
+Probe Seven's view was of the top of one of the rockets.  Archer felt a
+sudden chill.  That couldn't be right.  She punched a few keys,
+magnifying the new image.
 
- The stain vanished. Another took its place.
+"Jesus," Roosevelt said softly.  "Is that a warhead?"
 
- Ralph felt his knee against something hard and rocked a charred trunk that was edgy to the touch. He felt the sharp cinders that had been bark push against the back of his knee and knew that Roger had sat down. He felt with his hands and lowered himself beside Roger, while the trunk rocked among invisible ashes. Roger, uncommunicative by nature, said nothing. He offered no opinion on the beast nor told Ralph why he had chosen to come on this mad expedition. He simply sat and rocked the trunk gently. Ralph noticed a rapid and infuriating tapping noise and realized that Roger was banging his silly wooden stick against something.
+"What the hell is going on?"  one of Archer's other assistants said.
 
- So they sat, the rocking, tapping, impervious Roger and Ralph, fuming; round them the close sky was loaded with stars, save where the mountain punched up a hole of blackness.
+"I guess we decided to take control of things," Cavendish said.
 
- There was a slithering noise high above them, the sound of someone taking giant and dangerous strides on rock or ash. Then Jack found them, and was shivering and croaking in a voice they could just recognize as his.
+Archer's mouth was dry.  Take control was an understatement.  "How many
+missiles do you think we have here?"
 
- "I saw a thing on top."
+"I'm guessing more than fifty," Cavendish said.
 
- They heard him blunder against the trunk which rocked violently. He lay silent for a moment, then muttered.
+"Probe Eight is on-line," said someone from the far corner of the room.
+Archer didn't even try to identify the voice.  She
 
- "Keep a good lookout. It may be following."
+was still looking at the U.S. Government stamp on the side of that
+missile.
 
- A shower of ash pattered round them. Jack sat up.
+"Those are nukes, aren't they?"  said Melissa Carter, Archer's newest
+assistant.
 
- "I saw a thing bulge on the mountain."
+"Yeah," Archer said.  Nukes.  Heading into space.
 
- "You only imagined it," said Ralph shakily, "because nothing would bulge. Not any sort of creature."
+She raised her head as if she could see through the ceiling, into the
+sky above.  Then she stood, feeling more unsettled than she ever had in
+her life.
 
- Roger spoke; they jumped, for they had forgotten him.
+Nukes.
 
- "A frog."
+No wonder this had been a secret.
 
- Jack giggled and shuddered.
+Not from the aliens, but from humans.
 
- "Some frog. There was a noise too. A kind of 'plop' noise. Then the thing bulged."
+She thought about the destruction she and Cross had watched less than a
+month ago, the black dust, the melting people, the screaming.  She'd
+even dreamed about it--or more accurately, had nightmares about it. She
+had vowed that she would do everything within her power to prevent that
+from happening again.
 
- Ralph surprised himself, not so much by the quality of his voice, which was even, but by the bravado of its intention.
+Her power didn't include nukes, but human power did.  Humans had the
+ability to defend themselves, and some of those ways were uncomfortable
+to say the least.
 
- "We'll go and look."
+She was feeling ambivalent about this, and she at least understood it.
+Imagine if this had been announced.  The peaceniks would have been
+protesting, and those nutcases who had blown up the IRS building in
+Memphis, along with their friends all over the country, would have been
+calling this a big government conspiracy and using it as a way of
+rallying their sick programs.
 
- For the first time since he had first known Jack, Ralph could feel him hesitate.
+They were getting enough help as more and more people started figuring
+out that the tenth planet was going to have to pass Earth again.
 
- "Now--?"
+No.  The secrecy had been right.  And it was her job, at least for the
+time being, to keep that secrecy until someone else told the world.
 
- His voice spoke for him.
+"Probe Nine on-line," Cavendish said.
 
- "Of course."
+"Probe Ten right behind it," Roosevelt said.  Archer swung her chair
+forward, divided her monitor among all the views, and also brought in
+the telemetry.  It was going to be a very long night.
 
- He got off the trunk and led the way across the clinking cinders up into the dark, and the others followed.
+June 15, 2018
 
- Now that his physical voice was silent the inner voice of reason, and other voices too, made themselves heard. Piggy was calling him a kid. Another voice told him not to be a fool; and the darkness and desperate enterprise gave the night a kind of dentist's chair unreality.
+12:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- As they came to the last slope, Jack and Roger drew near, changed from the ink-stains to distinguishable figures. By common consent they stopped and crouched together. Behind them, on the horizon, was a patch of lighter sky where in a moment the moon would rise. The wind roared once in the forest and pushed their rags against them.
+121 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- Ralph stirred.
+The curtains were closed in the Oval Office, the thin sheers not enough
+to stop the light from the cameras from reflecting in the bay windows.
+Grace Lopez, the president's chief of staff, was standing behind the
+antique partner's desk, arguing with the White House correspondent for
+CNN.  He wanted to close the blue curtains, and she wasn't going to
+allow it.
 
- "Come on."
+Grace Lopez was a short, round woman with curly gray hair, and a manner
+that reminded Mickelson of his second grade teacher--a woman who had
+terrified him throughout his grade school years.  If Grace Lopez wanted
+something done, then someone had better do it.
 
- They crept forward, Roger lagging a little. Jack and Ralph turned the shoulder of the mountain together. The glittering lengths of the lagoon lay below them and beyond that a long white smudge that was the reef. Roger joined them.
+But the lights were a problem, and President Franklin had been
+insistent: he wanted to make his speech from this room.  The television
+reporters were suggesting the Map Room or even the Press Room, but
+Lopez was having none of it.
 
- Jack whispered.
+She would have to compromise, though.  Even Mickelson knew that no vid
+reporter worth his salt would record in a room with that kind of
+reflection.
 
- "Let's creep forward on hands and knees. Maybe it's asleep."
+He turned his back on the argument and watched the White House press
+corps prepare for the big speech.  The pundits had been guessing all
+evening about what the president would talk about.  Fortunately
+Franklin hadn't announced that he was even giving a speech until
+dinnertime, or the punditry would have gone on for days.
 
- Roger and Ralph moved on, this time leaving Jack in the rear, for all his brave words. They came to the flat top where the rock was hard to hands and knees.
+Mickelson's palms were wet.  He was wearing what he privately called
+his duck suit--the next step down from a tuxedo.  It was an Armani
+suit, black, with a stylish long coat, and matching trousers.  He wore
+a round-collar shirt to follow the modern style, and he felt as if he
+were choking.  But at some point in the evening, he would go in front
+of cameras himself.  The president had spent the entire day briefing
+his Cabinet.  He planned to send them out, like troops, to mount a
+verbal assault defending his chosen plan of action.
 
- A creature that bulged.
+General Maddox and the other Joint Chiefs were still in the president's
+study, going over last minute details with the president and his press
+secretary.  Which was why Lopez was doing battle with CNN.
 
- Ralph put his hand in the cold, soft ashes of the fire and smothered a cry. His hand and shoulder were twitching from the unlooked-for contact. Green lights of nausea appeared for a moment and ate into the darkness. Roger lay behind him and Jack's mouth was at his ear.
+Other Cabinet members were scattered about the south end of the room.
+The secretary of agriculture was pretending to be interested in the
+musty books that lined the bookshelves, while the secretary of defense
+stood silently, her hands clasped before her as if she were waiting to
+be graded on her posture.  Mickelson wondered if he looked as
+uncomfortable as she did.
+
+"I don't like this."  Tavi Bernstein, director of the FBI, stopped
+beside Mickelson.  She was a slight woman who wore her dark hair in a
+conservative knot at the back of her neck.  She, too, wore a long
+waistcoat, but instead of pants, she had on a knee-length skirt that
+showed off surprisingly good legs.  Mickelson had once considered
+dating her, until he listened to her resume during her confirmation
+hearings.  The woman had been a special agent in undercover work for
+half of her career, and the other half she had run, with an iron fist,
+some of the most elite units in the agency.  She was smart, and tough,
+and she intimidated him more than anyone else he had ever met.
+
+"You don't like the speech?"  Mickelson asked.  They were keeping their
+voices low, so low that it was almost impossible
+
+to hear each other.  But with this many members of the press around,
+it was always better to be cautious.  In fact, Mickelson noted, they
+were both keeping an eye out for the errant boom mike or passing
+reporter.
+
+"I haven't seen the final draft of the speech," Bernstein said.  "But I
+spent all of yesterday arguing that he shouldn't make it at all."
+
+"People have a right to know--" Mickelson started, but Bernstein waved
+an impatient jewel-covered hand.
+
+"Spare me the liberal bullshit," she said.  "We're at war.  And it's
+time we acknowledge it.  This country is a powder keg, and no one
+outside my department seems to understand that.  Everyone else is
+looking skyward."
+
+"That's where the danger is coming from," Mickelson said.
+
+"Not for a few more months.  Right now, we're running triple the number
+of hate crimes and conspiracy arrests.  We got a tip, fortunately, that
+led us to a huge supply of anthrax just outside Denver last week.  And
+so far we've managed to stop five more bombings like Memphis."
+
+Mickelson turned his head so that he could see her face.  She raised
+her eyebrows.
+
+"Don't look so serious," she said through her teeth, then smiled,
+obviously for the benefit of all the reporters in the room.  "And don't
+look so surprised.  We're not broadcasting any of this, except to a
+handful of folks."
+
+"Not even Cabinet members?"
+
+She shrugged.  "You have enough on your plate, Doug.  The anthrax thing
+is one of many my office has been dealing with since that damn planet
+appeared.  My people are working harder than they've ever worked, and
+on more cases, from more areas, than ever before."
+
+"What the hell do you think is going on?"  he asked.
+
+She looked at him for a long moment, then turned her gaze pointedly on
+the reporters.  "How long do you think we have?"
+
+He glanced at his watch.  "We're only fifteen minutes late at this
+point.  No one's left that office yet.  They're fine tuning.  I think
+we've got five minutes at least."
+
+"Yeah, and ball-buster Lopez hasn't acquiesced yet," Bernstein said.
+"What the hell is she thinking?  The drapes have to be closed if
+they're going to do a press conference in here at night.  It doesn't
+matter if they haven't been closed since the Kennedy Administration."
+
+Mickelson grinned.  "I think I saw a photo of LBJ with them closed."
+
+"Yeah, to keep the glare off all his television sets."
+
+They both laughed, and Mickelson thought how rare it was to have
+someone else who knew the details of modern American history.  He would
+wager they were the only two people in the room who knew that right
+where half the press corps was standing, President Lyndon Baines
+Johnson had had a console with three television sets built in, one for
+what was then every network.
+
+That good ole boy from Texas would certainly be surprised now.
+Hundreds, maybe thousands of channels, not counting all the video on
+the Web, and the low-wattage stations.  Now there was so much noise,
+Mickelson was amazed anyone heard anything.  He knew that Franklin's
+press people spent most of the evening making certain that all the
+networks knew this was the most important speech in Franklin's
+career-maybe in the world.  Even then, Mickelson doubted if more than
+half would carry it, and those would have pundits dissecting everything
+instantly afterward.
+
+He was scheduled to appear on NBC and its sub networks He had no idea
+where Bernstein was supposed to lend her two cents.
+
+She led him out the door and into the office of Franklin's private
+secretary.  There was a crowd here, too, but none of
+
+them were reporters.  More Cabinet members were here, waiting, and
+some of the deputy officials.
+
+"Okay."  Bernstein pulled him into a corner near a Remington statue of
+a cowboy on a horse, purchased during the Reagan administration.  "You
+wanted to know what's going on?  Here's what I think.  I think people
+are terrified, and they don't know how to express it.  They're also
+feeling helpless.  We've had a huge rise in voluntary military
+recruitment.  But that's not helping like it usually does in war.  This
+threat is an unknown, it comes from the sky, and it seems
+all-powerful."
+
+"So the speech should help," Mickelson said.
+
+"Oh, for sensible people, maybe," Bernstein said.  "But most people
+aren't sensible, not in the way we want them to be.  And those crazed
+groups out there are spreading the word that the aliens aren't real. So
+when Franklin uses the 'n' word--"
 
- "Over there, where there used to be a gap in the rock. A sort of hump--see?"
+Even in this more private room she didn't dare say nukes.  Franklin had
+impressed on all of them the need for secrecy on this point.  Mickelson
+had been avoiding discussing it all day.
 
- Ashes blew into Ralph's face from the dead fire. He could not see the gap or anything else, because the green lights were opening again and growing, and the top of the mountain was sliding sideways.
+"--who are those crazies going to believe is being attacked?  If they
+don't believe aliens exist, there's only one other answer."
 
- Once more, from a distance, he heard Jack's whisper.
+"Some international target."
 
- "Scared?"
+"Fuck, Doug, sometimes your job colors your vision," Bernstein said.
+"No.  We're not talking rational folk here."
 
- Not scared so much as paralyzed; hung up there immovable on the top of a diminishing, moving mountain. Jack slid away from him, Roger bumped, fumbled with a hiss of breath, and passed onwards. He heard them whispering.
+"Used to be," he said softly, "the rational people were the ones who
+didn't believe in aliens."
 
- "Can you see anything?"
+She smiled grimly.  "Well, times change.  And our crazy friends aren't
+going to be worrying about an international target.  They're going to
+be worrying about a local one.  They know that we've been on their
+butts and so have the aTF., and the U.S. Marshals.  They're going to
+think this is some kind of code."
 
- "There--"
+Mickelson still didn't get it.  "Yes, but you're talking about a fringe
+element."
 
- In front of them, only three or four yards away, was a rock-like hump where no rock should be. Ralph could hear a tiny chattering noise coming from somewhere-- perhaps from his own mouth. He bound himself together with his will, fused his fear and loathing into a hatred, and stood up. He took two leaden steps forward.
+Color rose in her cheeks.  "That's what Franklin was saying  He's so
+focused on the skies he's forgetting about the home front  He does this
+and I guarantee that cities'll be burning in the morning."
 
- Behind them the silver of moon had drawn clear of the horizon. Before them, something like a great ape was sitting asleep with its head between its knees. Then the wind roared in the forest, there was confusion in the darkness and the creature lifted its head, holding toward them the ruin of a face.
+Mickelson let out an exasperated sigh.  "Why are you telling me this
+now?  Why didn't you bring it up at the Cabinet meeting?"
 
- Ralph found himself taking giant strides among the ashes, heard other creatures crying out and leaping and dared the impossible on the dark slope; presently the mountain was deserted, save for the three abandoned sticks and the thing that bowed.
+"Because I've been talking to Franklin about it all week, and he didn't
+want the dissent at the damn meeting.  He says, and I quote, "What
+happens here doesn't matter a rat's ass if we don't get rid of those
+aliens."  "
 
- 
+Mickelson bit his lower lip.  In his own way, Franklin was right.  What
+happened in the next few months didn't matter if the aliens returned. A
+lump formed in Mickelson's stomach.  His shoulders were so tight, it
+felt as if he'd snap every muscle in them simply by moving.
 
- 
+"You agree with him, don't you?"  Bernstein said.
 
- CHAPTER EIGHT Gift for the Darkness
+Trapped.  Mickelson glanced at the door.  Some of the reporters were in
+position, but Lopez was still arguing over the drapes.  What a weird
+stalling tactic that was.  "Don't you?"  Bernstein asked.
 
- 
+There was no way she was going to let him off the hook.  "Yeah," he
+said.  "I do."
 
- Piggy looked up miserably from the dawn-pale beach to the dark mountain.
+"Damn," Bernstein said.  "He listens to you.  I was hoping you could
+get him to call this off at the eleventh hour."
 
- "Are you sure? Really sure, I mean?"
+"Sorry, Tavi," Mickelson said.  "I think in this case, we're on the
+right path."
 
- I told you a dozen times now," said Ralph, "we saw it."
+He left her side, feeling more uncomfortable than he had in days. There
+were no good options anywhere.  And now the missiles had been
+launched.
 
- "D'you think we're safe down here?"
+He stepped back into the Oval Office just as Lopez closed the drapes.
+The reflection disappeared.  She walked across the room, and let
+herself through one of the many doors.  The CNN White House
+correspondent was shaking his head as if he hadn't seen anything like
+that for a long time.
 
- "How the hell should I know?"
+Bernstein entered and pointedly went to a different part of the room
+from Mickelson.  What had she expected?  Yeah, he and Franklin went way
+back, almost as far back as he and Cross did.  Franklin and Mickelson
+were both Rhodes scholars, and were in Oxford at the same time.  They'd
+been part of a small enclave of Americans--it wasn't a popular time for
+Americans abroad--and they had stuck.  closer together than they would
+have if they had been going to graduate school in the States.
 
- Ralph jerked away from him and walked a few paces along the beach. Jack was kneeling and drawing a circular pattern in the sand with his forefinger. Piggy's voice came to them, hushed.
+But Franklin hadn't chosen Mickelson just out of loyalty.  He had
+chosen Mickelson to represent the U.S. abroad because he and Mickelson
+had similar views.  Bernstein had been promoted from within the ranks.
+When the director's job came open, she had been the natural choice for
+it.  But Mickelson had been chosen from the outside, and he had done
+his best to serve both his country and his president.
 
- "Are you sure? Really?"
+Which he was also doing now.  Bernstein had presented her argument.
+Franklin had rejected it.  End of story.
 
- "Go up and see," said Jack contemptuously, "and good riddance."
+At that thought, the door to the president's study opened, and Franklin
+walked in, flanked by the members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and his
+press secretary.  As Franklin approached the desk, lights went on all
+around him, illuminating that entire section of the Oval Office.  Even
+the cracks in the ceiling were visible.
 
- "No fear."
+Franklin took his chair, and the others joined the throng behind the
+cameras.  If viewed only from the cameras' undiscerning eye, it looked
+as if Franklin sat alone in front of windows hidden by lush blue
+drapes, an American flag and some lovely ferns in the background.
 
- "The beast had teeth," said Ralph, "and big black eyes."
+"Can we have a camera test, Mr.  President?"  one of the reporters
+shouted.
 
- He shuddered violently. Piggy took off his one round of glass and polished the surface.
+"We already did that," Lopez said.  "Let the president start."
 
- "What we going to do?"
+The lump in Mickelson's stomach grew heavier.  All day, the discussions
+around the Oval Office had been about the
 
- Ralph turned toward the platform. The conch glimmered among the trees, a white blob against the place where the sun would rise. He pushed back his mop.
+speech.  If human beings survived, this would be the signature speech
+of the Franklin presidency.  Every adviser, every member of the
+president's staff was conscious of the fact that they were making
+history here.
 
- "I don't know."
+And they were conscious of the fact that with each decision, they could
+be writing the end of history as well.
 
- He remembered the panic flight down the mountainside. "I don't think we'd ever fight a thing that size, honestly, you know. We'd talk but we wouldn't fight a tiger. We'd hide. Even Jack 'ud hide."
+Mickelson made himself take a deep breath.
+
+A TelePrompTer had been set up in front of the camera, a bow to the
+fact that this version of the speech had been cobbled together at the
+last minute.
+
+Franklin stiffened his shoulders.
+
+His press secretary was looking at her watch.  She would give him the
+signal to start from off-camera.
+
+Mickelson scanned for General Maddox.  She was standing near the door
+that led into the president's office.  She was in full dress uniform
+and, for the first time since Mickelson had met her, she looked
+nervous.
+
+The press secretary's finger came down, the red lights on top of all
+dozen handheld cameras came on, and Franklin was beginning the speech
+that would define him.
+
+"Good evening, my fellow Americans, and citizens of the world."
+
+Franklin's voice quivered just a little, and his eyes widened just
+slightly in surprise.  He was nervous.
+
+Mickelson couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Franklin well and
+truly nervous.
+
+"I speak to you today not only as the president of the United States,
+but as the representative of many of the leaders and governments of
+this world, with full support from the United Nations."
 
- Jack still looked at the sand.
+Good start.  Mickelson's back stiffened.  Now for the tough part.
+
+Franklin held up a piece of paper.  "I hold in my hand a declaration of
+war against the inhabitants of the tenth planet.
+
+This declaration has been signed by all the major governments of the
+planet Earth.  Last night, in a secret Security Council session at the
+United Nations, this declaration was presented as a resolution and
+passed unanimously.  Later today, it will be formally approved by the
+general session."
+
+Mickelson stole a glance at the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations.
+She had her hands folded in front of her.  He'd helped her prep for
+last night's debate, only to get a call from her later with the report
+that there had been none.
+
+The nations of the world were united on this.  He should have mentioned
+that to Bernstein.
+
+Although he doubted she would have appreciated it.
+
+"At 6:05 Greenwich Mean Time today," President Franklin was saying,
+"the combined nations of this planet launched a counterattack against
+the tenth planet from orbit.  Over a period of one hour, three hundred
+and six nuclear-tipped warheads were launched on an intercept course
+with the tenth planet.  A few more will be launched over the next few
+weeks, until the launch window closes our opportunity for such
+action."
 
- "What about my hunters?"
+Mickelson's throat was dry.  He wished he didn't have to be here.  He
+wanted to be in some Georgetown bar, near the university, listening to
+the seniors react to the speech.  He had no idea how this was playing
+in Peoria, let alone Beijing.
 
- Simon came stealing out of the shadows by the shelters. Ralph ignored Jack's question. He pointed to the touch of yellow above the sea.
+He hoped it was playing well, because there was no way to turn back
+from this course.
 
- "As long as there's light we're brave enough. But then? And now that thing squats by the fire as though it didn't want us to be rescued--"
+The president paused for a few moments, then went on.  "It will take
+the fastest of this massive first wave of missiles sixty-three days to
+reach an intercept point with the tenth planet as it comes around the
+sun and heads back toward our planet."
 
- He was twisting his hands now, unconsciously. His voice rose.
+Franklin was looking pale in the bright light.  He was talking about
+the largest nuclear attack ever made.  And, bless him, he looked as
+disturbed by it as a leader in time of crisis could.
 
- "So we can't have a signal fire. . . . We're beaten."
+Mickelson dry-swallowed.  He resisted the urge to glance at Bernstein.
+Goddamn her.  Why'd she have to come to him at the last minute?  She
+had made him uncertain, and he couldn't be, not with his own television
+appearances awaiting him after this.  He had to sound like a positive
+member of the team, something he was usually very good at.
 
- A point of gold appeared above the sea and at once all the sky lightened.
+Franklin lowered his voice to a confiding tone.  "I know all of you
+watched what the inhabitants of the tenth planet did on their first
+attack against Earth.  Many of you lost loved ones: parents, children,
+grandchildren.  We all saw the damage these hideous weapons did.  We
+were affected unevenly, but we were all affected.  Earth is our home
+and it has been violated.  We rise up now in self-defense."
 
- "What about my hunters?"
+Heartstrings.  Mickelson nodded.  Someone had had the good sense to use
+hot-button words like "home" and "Violation."  Franklin had even
+skirted around the concept of motherhood.  If this had been a strictly
+American speech, Mickelson wondered, would there have been a mention of
+apple pie, too?
 
- "Boys armed with sticks."
+He shuddered and glanced at Bernstein.  That cynical thought was
+courtesy of her.
 
- Jack got to his feet. His face was red as he marched away. Piggy put on his one glass and looked at Ralph.
+Or was it?  Maybe it was his own way of distancing himself from the
+emotional content of Franklin's speech.  Mickelson had vacationed on
+the California coast.  He'd been down the Amazon, and he'd even been to
+the places in Africa that had been destroyed.  He hadn't lost friends
+or family, but he had lost places and in some ways that was just as
+bad.  Maybe worse.  Because humans believed places outlasted
+everything.  In Europe, cities existed for a thousand years.  In Asia
+and the Middle East, several thousand.
 
- "Now you done it. You been rude about his hunters."
+And the aliens had destroyed that feeling of security, the fact that
+some things lasted through time.
 
- "Oh shut up!"
+Mickelson took a deep breath.  Calm.  He had to remain calm.
 
- The sound of the inexpertly blown conch interrupted them. As though he were serenading the rising sun, Jack went on blowing till the shelters were astir and the hunters crept to the platform and the littluns whimpered as now they so frequently did. Ralph rose obediently, and Piggy, and they went to the platform.
+"We cannot allow a second such attack to occur as the tenth planet
+comes past us again," Franklin was saying.  He had raised his voice
+again.  He was speaking with force, no longer the friend and confidant,
+but the world leader.  "All of the governments of the world have been
+working together, and will continue to do so, to fight the aliens on
+all fronts.  The strike today was just the first.  There will be
+more."
 
- "Talk," said Ralph bitterly, "talk, talk, talk."
+More.  Jesus.  A part of Mickelson had hoped that this one attack would
+be enough.
 
- He took the conch from Jack.
+Franklin was looking directly at the camera.  He looked more confident
+than he had when he began this speech.  His tone was firm again.
 
- "This meeting--"
+Or maybe, just maybe, it came from the heart.
 
- Jack interrupted him.
+Mickelson braced himself.
 
- "I called it."
+"This is an historic day," Franklin said.  "It is the first time the
+entire planet has gone to war against a common enemy.  I had never
+imagined such a day, but it has arrived.  We did not ask for this war.
+We do not want it.  But be assured, we shall win."
+
+Franklin continued to stare at the cameras.  Then the red lights above
+them went out.  Mickelson started with surprise.  No traditional
+ending. No "thank you and good night."  Just a declaration of power.
+
+The reporters weren't even shouting questions.  They looked stunned.
+Franklin stood, walked to the study, and closed the door behind him.
+
+The Oval Office was incredibly quiet, considering how many people were
+in it.
+
+Mickelson gathered himself.  He had to go to the press room so that he
+could be the third wheel on some NBC panel talk show.  He had to
+move.
+
+But he didn't want to.  Even though the president was gone, the air was
+still fraught with import.
+
+We 'we finally done it, he thought.  We 'we finally declared war.
+
+Against an enemy they didn't know.  An enemy they didn't understand. An
+enemy they'd never really seen.
+
+Franklin had spoken with confidence about their chances.  Mickelson
+wasn't sure if that confidence was real or not.  But he knew that, for
+the first time since the tenth planet had started destroying sections
+of the Earth thousands of years ago, Earth finally had a realistic
+chance of fighting back.
+
+And maybe, just maybe, they could win this.
+
+Section Three
+
+FINAL
+
+COUNTDOWN
+
+9
+
+August 1,2018
+
+10:01 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
+
+101 Days Until Second Harvest
+
+As Leo Cross pushed open the double doors leading into Britt's main
+lab, he felt like an outsider about to enter a closed town.  He took a
+deep breath, trying to overcome the feeling, but he couldn't really
+shake it.
+
+Even though Britt had gotten him a permanent pass into the building a
+month ago--the day after the president had given his famous "We Are at
+War" speech--Cross still didn't know anyone but Britt by name.  He
+wasn't consulted by the other scientists and he was constantly treated
+as "the boyfriend."
+
+It was a new experience for him.  All his life, he had been the center
+of attention, he had been the one that others had looked to, he had
+been the one with other people hanging on his arm.
+
+Right now, he wasn't really hanging on Britt's--he was doing work--he
+just wasn't getting results.  He spent a lot of time in his office, and
+in his workroom at home, studying information from all the different
+groups working on the various aspects of the Tenth Planet Project.
+
+Movement seemed so damn slow.  Slowness had never bothered him in the
+past, but now it did.  Everyone was looking at the missiles as the
+things that would save the Earth, but Cross wasn't by nature an
+optimist.  Nor was he a pessimist.  He quantified things, hypothesized
+from information presented to him, and waited for results.
 
- "If you hadn't called it I should have. You just blew the conch."
+But with the missiles, he couldn't do that.
 
- "Well, isn't that calling it?"
+He threaded his way through the desks and computers and scientists
+hunched over them, studying telemetry or turning the streams of raw
+data into visuals.  Britt had placed a large screen in the center of
+the room--a flat screen that had images on both sides.  Right now it
+was running numbers, and no one was looking at it.  At other times he
+had been in the lab, it had been showing images from various probes,
+sometimes the best or the prettiest.  And a few times, late at night,
+it showed those images that could, when someone connected the dots with
+a white line, be made to look like something else--usually something
+juvenile and extremely funny.
 
- "Oh, take it! Go on--talk!"
+A few of the scientists had looked up as Cross entered, but no one
+greeted him.  Sometimes when he showed up, they looked at him as if he
+were the enemy.  He took Britt away, when the rest of them had to
+remain, and he had a hunch they saw that as unfair somehow.
 
- Ralph thrust the conch into Jack's arms and sat down on the trunk.
+Britt was standing between two of her assistants, one hand on each
+desk, having an earnest conversation.  He stayed well back, knowing
+better than to interrupt her work.
+
+She had gotten thinner in the last few months, and the lack of sleep
+had hollowed out her face.  The prettiness that had so appealed to him
+when they first met was lost to stress and burnout.  She was still
+attractive, but she wasn't fresh faced, wasn't the energetic woman he
+had fallen in love with.  He was beginning to worry how much more of
+this she could take, but he didn't know how much of his worry was
+coming from his love for her and how much of it was actually based on
+some intangible that he could see but not define.
+
+Everyone who had reached the national--or international-level in
+science as Britt had done, had gone through weeks and months like this,
+just in their schooling, not to mention their jobs.  But never did
+something like this happen when so much else was at stake.
+
+He'd seen an article in the Washington Post about the extreme rise in
+stress-related diseases worldwide since the tenth planet unleashed its
+destruction on the Earth.  The conclusion of the people who sent out
+the data was that everyone was under more stress now than ever before,
+and that there was little anyone could do about it except accept it,
+and move on.
+
+Helpful advice for some people, for whom not being able to identify the
+actual problem made things worse, but rather ridiculous for the rest of
+the world--people like Cross.
+
+Still, he wasn't really concerned with the rise in stress rates
+worldwide.  Just the way that it manifested in Britt.
+
+She wasn't getting much sleep, sometimes as little as two or three
+hours a night, and never more than five.  She forgot to eat, unless
+someone ordered into the lab, and she was drinking way too much coffee
+to keep herself motivated.
+
+"At least," Constance had said to him when he complained one morning
+over a solitary breakfast, "Dr.  Archer gets some protein and calcium
+and solid calories from those coffee concoctions she drinks.  They may
+not be healthy meals, but they're better than that swill we used to
+drink before someone invented Starbucks."
+
+Maybe.  But Cross didn't like it anymore than Britt had when he had
+been the one under such pressure.
+
+She had vowed last night that she would get a full eight hours sleep.
+He had known then that she didn't have to be in the lab that morning,
+so he had conveniently shut off the alarm.  He would let her sleep as
+long as her body dictated, and then he would feed her a big, healthy
+meal.
+
+But they hadn't been asleep an hour when the phone call
+
+came in.  Dr.  Archer was needed in the lab.  The telemetry from the
+first probe was coming back.
+
+Cross, who had been only partially awakened by the call, argued that
+she didn't have to go in, that the probes had been sending telemetry
+all along.  Britt had snapped at him as she got out of bed and stumbled
+around searching for clothes that this particular probe was sent on a
+flyby of the tenth planet.  She had instructed her staff not to disturb
+her unless the probe was sending in imagery from the planet itself.
+
+That had gotten Cross out of bed, his head feeling like a melon that
+had just been split, and he had dressed with her, grabbed them both
+apples from the kitchen, and driven her to the lab.
+
+Once there, he'd waited an hour before he asked to see the visuals, and
+he got a cold stare from all the scientists involved.  This particular
+probe was sending the visuals back encoded along with all of the other
+information, and it would take a while to turn that code into actual
+pictures.
+
+A while turned out to be hours.
+
+Cross, who hated waiting around anyway, decided he was of no more use
+at the lab and went back to bed.
+
+Alone.
+
+He still had forgotten to set the alarm, and he had awakened a lot
+later than he had planned, grumpy, tired and out of sorts.  At first he
+thought it was because of Britt's defection in the middle of the night,
+and then he wondered if it was because he had so little to do with the
+important events at the moment.
+
+And then he realized that neither was correct.  He was worried about
+what the probes would find.  Sometimes he was afraid they would locate
+huge cityscapes like the ones he had seen in science fiction films.
+Sometimes he was afraid they'd find that the creatures in the ships
+were only the beginning; that there'd be a greater, more diverse
+race--all of it threatening-on the planet's surface.
+
+And sometimes he was afraid they'd find nothing at all.
+
+He wasn't sure which he could deal with, but he knew, the closer the
+probes got, the closer they all came to gaining more information, the
+more uncomfortable he got.
+
+The biologists working on the alien corpses hadn't found much that was
+helpful.  They knew so little about this creature that they didn't even
+know if the specimens before them were young or old, and they were
+having a hell of a time finding gender characteristics.  There didn't
+seem to be any obvious kind.
+
+The aliens were, at the moment, a dead end.
+
+Britt finally looked up from her conversation, saw Cross, and smiled.
+He warmed.  That smile made all his discomfort float away.  Yeah, the
+others here might see him as an intruder, but they weren't Britt, and
+it was her lab.
+
+"Leo," she said.  "Come with me.  I have something to show you."
+
+He hadn't told her about his fears.  He hadn't discussed them with
+anyone.  He followed her toward a large console that had multiple
+monitors.  They formed a circle, and she sat in the middle of them, and
+pulled a chair over for him.
 
- "I've called an assembly," said Jack, "because of a lot of things. First, you know now, we've seen the beast. We crawled up. We were only a few feet away. The beast sat up and looked at us. I don't know what it does. We don't even know what it is--"
+"The planet is still on the far side of the sun, just outside of
+Venus's orbit," she said, "and it's too far away for our scopes to pick
+anything up.  The information we're getting from the flyby has been
+relayed to the satellites, before it came here--the distances are
+amazing!--but we are getting information."
 
- "The beast comes out of the sea--"
+She glanced over her shoulder at him.  Her eyes were bright with
+excitement, but he knew her well enough to know that the data streams
+were possibly what had excited her.  He was past marveling at
+technology.  He wanted to find a way to defeat those aliens, and he
+wanted a way to do it quickly.
 
- "Out of the dark--"
+He hoped that the nuclear weapons would do it.  There was a chance, a
+pretty good chance, that they would.  Three
 
- "Trees--"
+hundred of them pounding into this planet would end just about
+everything here with a nuclear winter.
 
- "Quiet!" shouted Jack. "You, listen. The beast is sitting up there, whatever it is--"
+A slight frown creased her forehead apparently at his lack of
+response
 
- "Perhaps it's waiting--"
+"The sun," she said as she turned back toward the screen, her tone
+slightly cooler, "is still creating some interference, so what we're
+getting here is preliminary.  But I thought I'd show you our first
+up-close-and-personal views of the tenth planet."
 
- "Hunting--"
+She punched a few keys, and an image formed on the monitors.  It formed
+slowly, like images used to in the early days of computers, unfolding
+as pieces of data were transformed into images.
 
- "Yes, hunting."
+Cross's breath caught in his throat.  This first image was a distant
+one, and it was familiar.  It was a blackness, a round blackness, in
+space.  It almost reminded him of the award winning photos he saw of
+eclipses: a black hole in an active sky.
 
- "Hunting," said Jack. He remembered his age-old tremors in the forest. "Yes. The beast is a hunter. Only-- shut up! The next thing is that we couldn't kill it. And the next is that Ralph said my hunters are no good."
+Nothing.  His worst fears were coming true.  He was going to see
+nothing.
 
- "I never said that!"
+He leaned over Britt's shoulder, afraid that if he said anything it
+would reveal his disappointment.  So he tried to show interest in other
+ways, by focusing on the image before him, by moving closer to it.
 
- "I've got the conch. Ralph thinks you're cowards, running away from the boar and the beast. And that's not all."
+Britt punched a few more keys, and that image disappeared.  Another
+appeared just as the first one had, scrolling up.  This one showed the
+same blackness, only larger.  Then another appeared and another, each
+as the probe got closer to the planet.
 
- There was a kind of sigh on the platform as if everyone knew what was coming. Jack's voice went up, tremulous yet determined, pushing against the uncooperative silence.
+The final image was quite close, and it was just of blackness, with the
+hint of something glinting against an edge.
 
- "He's like Piggy. He says things like Piggy. He isn't a proper chief."
+"It seems odd to me," Britt said, "that this close to the sun, the
+planet looks black.  It's really there.  It's a solid mass.  We're
+getting other readings that show it does have a surface, and
 
- Jack clutched the conch to him.
+that there are some energy readings on the surface, but it's almost as
+if there's a shield in place that we can't get beyond."
 
- "He's a coward himself."
+Cross pulled his chair closer to the screen.  He was staring at that
+glint.  It looked like an angle, a large angle.  He put his finger on
+it.  "Can you blow that up?"
 
- For a moment he paused and then went on.
+She did.  The image was larger, but grainy, and it told him nothing.
 
- "On top, when Roger and me went on--he stayed back."
+"What kind of shield could that be?"  he asked.
 
- "I went too!"
+She shrugged.  "I'm not even sure it is one.  I have never seen
+anything like it.  The other planets in this solar system don't look
+like this.  Nothing in our databases prepared us for this."
 
- "After."
+Just like nothing had prepared them for the attack on the Earth, for
+the spaceships, and for the appearance of the aliens themselves.
 
- The two boys glared at each other through screens of hair.
+Cross leaned back and templed his fingers.  "The biologists are saying
+that these creatures emerged from an ocean, just like we did.  Only
+they kept their tentacles and their eye stalks They've found evidence
+that these creatures need water to survive, just like we do.  I'm not
+an astronomer, but shouldn't we see evidence of water on this surface
+somewhere?"
 
- "I went on too," said Ralph, "then I ran away. So did you."
+"If that is the surface," Britt said.  "We're not picking up any
+readings of shielding, but then, their technology is so different from
+ours."
 
- "Call me a coward then."
+"What if it's not technology?"  Cross asked.  "What else could it
+be?"
 
- Jack turned to the hunters.
+"Nothing that would form life as we know it," Britt said.  "And these
+aliens have to be related to life as we know it.  They build machines,
+they congregate in groups, they obviously communicate with one another.
+Life can't form without water and light, at least not life that we
+understand."
 
- "He's not a hunter. He'd never have got us meat. He isn't a prefect and we don't know anything about him. He just gives orders and expects people to obey for nothing. All this talk--"
+Cross sighed.  He wasn't sure he could deal with the frustration.  "Are
+we going to have another flyby before one of those probes goes down to
+the planet's surface?"
 
- "All this talk!" shouted Ralph. "Talk, talk! Who wanted it? Who called the meeting?"
+"One or two," Britt said, "depending on how things work."
 
- Jack turned, red in the face, his chin sunk back. He glowered up under his eyebrows.
+"Are any of them going to go closer?"
 
- "All right then," he said in tones of deep meaning, and menace, "all right."
+"Yes," she said.
 
- He held the conch against his chest with one hand and stabbed the air with his index finger.
+"Maybe that will give us more information."  He looked at her.  The
+excitement in her eyes had dimmed a little.  "Unless I'm missing
+something."
 
- "Who thinks Ralph oughtn't to be chief?"
+"Just the fact that we're close, Leo."  Her voice was low so that the
+other team members couldn't hear her.  "We're actually looking at the
+planet itself, getting readings from it.  That's a good thing."
 
- He looked expectantly at the boys ranged round, who had frozen. Under the palms there was deadly silence.
+"Intellectually I know that," he said.  "I guess I'm just impatient."
 
- "Hands up," said Jack strongly, "whoever wants Ralph not to be chief?"
+"So am I."  She patted his hand.  "But the only way we're going to
+learn anything is to keep studying."
 
- The silence continued, breathless and heavy and full of shame. Slowly the red drained from Jack's cheeks, then came back with a painful rush. He licked his lips and turned his head at an angle, so that his gaze avoided the embarrassment of linking with another's eye.
+He grinned.  "You sound like my old professors.  They hated it when I
+leapt over weeks of experimentation with an accurate hunch.  They
+always made me prove it."
 
- "How many think--"
+"And that's why you went to archaeology instead of the hard sciences,
+isn't it?"  she asked.  "Because hunches are valued there."
 
- His voice tailed off. The hands that held the conch shook. He cleared his throat, and spoke loudly.
+His gaze met hers.  She knew him too well already.  He leaned in, and
+kissed her, then he rested his forehead against hers.
 
- "All right then."
+"Can I buy you lunch?"  he asked.  "You look like you're wasting
+away."
 
- He laid the conch with great care in the grass at his feet. The humiliating tears were running from the corner of each eye.
+And then he caught his breath.  He turned toward the screen, but the
+image on it was the first one.
 
- "I'm not going to play any longer. Not with you."
+"What?"  Britt asked.
 
- Most of the boys were looking down now, at the grass or their feet. Jack cleared his throat again.
+"Let me see that close-up again," he said.
 
- "I'm not going to be a part of Ralph's lot--"
+She punched keys, and the final image appeared, its small glint
+taunting him from the corner.
 
- He looked along the right-hand logs, numbering the hunters that had been a choir.
+"Shit," he whispered.
 
- "I'm going off by myself. He can catch his own pigs. Anyone who wants to hunt when I do can come too."
+"This planet is on a long elliptical orbit," he said.
 
- He blundered out of the triangle toward the drop to the white sand.
+"Yeah?"
 
- "Jack!"
+"And that means, for long periods of time, it's in the cold darkness
+of space, no light, no nothing.  And the temperatures on the surface
+would be incredibly cold, right?"
 
- Jack turned and looked back at Ralph. For a moment he paused and then cried out, high-pitched, enraged.
+Britt frowned.  "Yeah."
 
- "--No!"
+"But the biologists are saying that these creatures started out like we
+did.  So their planet should have an ocean at least, and oceans don't
+happen on incredibly cold planets.  They are ice, if they exist at all.
+Life doesn't emerge from the ice into the primordial goo."
 
- He leapt down from the platform and ran along the beach, paying no heed to the steady fall of his tears; and until he dived into the forest Ralph watched him.
+"I guess," Britt said, sounding even more confused.
 
- 
+"Something changed for these creatures," he said.  "Something major,
+and they were technologically advanced enough to deal with it."
 
- Piggy was indignant.
+"Maybe they have incredibly short life spans," Britt said.  "Maybe they
+only exist during their time around the sun."
 
- "I been talking, Ralph, and you just stood there like--"
+Cross shook his head.  That didn't feel right.  Or did it?  Creatures
+with incredibly short life spans spent those lives gathering food, and
+reproducing.  It wasn't conducive to making tools or industrialization,
+but he was basing this on an Earth model.  What if, for the aliens,
+time went faster?
 
- Softly, looking at Piggy and not seeing him, Ralph spoke to himself.
+There was no way he could know that, no way he could prove it.  But a
+shiver had run down his back.
 
- "He'll come back. When the sun goes down he'll come." He looked at the conch in Piggy's hand.
+"You have a hunch," she said.
 
- "What?"
+He nodded.  He didn't like it, but it made complete sense, no matter
+what was going on for those aliens.
 
- "Well there!"
+"Britt," he said.  "We're their food source."
 
- Piggy gave up the attempt to rebuke Ralph. He polished his glass again and went back to his subject.
+"I know they harvest nutrients, but--"
 
- "We can do without Jack Merridew. There's others besides him on this island. But now we really got a beast, though I can't hardly believe it, we'll need to stay close to the platform; there'll be less need of him and his hunting. So now we can really decide on what's what."
+"No, listen to me," he said.  "What if they had some kind of
+technological disaster that destroyed their planet?  What if something
+they made created that blackness?  What if enough of them survived? Why
+would any creature go to such great lengths to create spaceships and
+nanoharvesters if this were something they didn't really need?"
 
- "There's no help, Piggy. Nothing to be done."
+"What are you saying?"  Britt asked."I'm saying that I'll wager we are
+the key to their survival.  Not humans.  Earth."
 
- For a while they sat in depressed silence. Then Simon stood up and took the conch from Piggy, who was so astonished that he remained on his feet. Ralph looked up at Simon.
+She looked at him.  There was something sad in her eyes.  "I don't want
+to know that if it's true, Leo."
 
- "Simon? What is it this time?"
+"Why not?"  he asked.  "It explains so much."
 
- A half-sound of jeering ran round the circle and Simon shrank from it.
+"Yes," she said.  "It does.  But it also means that in the end, it's us
+against them, and whoever wins the conflict is the only one who
+survives."
 
- "I thought there might be something to do. Something we-"
+Cross nodded.  He stood.  "Yeah," he said.  "It means that.  It also
+means that they're not going to be deterred by half measures.  If I'm
+right, they're going to keep coming until they have nothing left."
 
- Again the pressure of the assembly took his voice away. He sought for help and sympathy and chose Piggy. He turned half toward him, clutching the conch to his brown chest.
+"Then I hope you're not right, Leo," Britt said.
 
- "I think we ought to climb the mountain."
+But he didn't really pay much attention.  He had to tell Maddox his
+theory, and he had to prepare her.  She wouldn't like the lack of
+evidence, but he'd learned enough about her over the last few months to
+know that she would hear him on some level.  She would continue to
+prepare for the worst.
 
- The circle shivered with dread. Simon broke off and turned to Piggy who was looking at him with an expression of derisive incomprehension.
+Britt was exactly right.  The Earth was in a fight to the death.  And
+only the strongest, most creative species would survive.
 
- "What's the good of climbing up to this here beast when Ralph and the other two couldn't do nothing?"
+August 1, 2018 19:31 Universal Time
 
- Simon whispered his answer.
+101 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "What else is there to do?"
+Cicoi wrapped his upper tentacles around his workstation inside the
+Command Building of the South.  He hadn't been able to go back to
+Command Central, not since the Elders had shown themselves.  He
+preferred to work here.
 
- His speech made, he allowed Piggy to lift the conch out of his hands. Then he retired and sat as far away from the others as possible.
+The warships were coming along, but his workers were getting tired.  He
+had them on rapid rotations, with little pod
 
- Piggy was speaking now with more assurance and with what, if the circumstances had not been so serious, the others would have recognized as pleasure.
+time, but that wouldn't work forever.  The strain was beginning to
+show on his people; the extra work had become a burden.  He wished he
+could awaken more of the sleepers, but he didn't dare.  They hadn't
+gathered enough food on the last Pass to make awakening others
+possible.
 
- "I said we could all do without a certain person. Now I say we got to decide on what can be done. And I think I could tell you what Ralph's going to say next. The most important thing on the island is the smoke and you can't have no smoke without a fire."
+The plans for the next Pass were shaping up well.  He and his
+assistants had been going over the maps of the third planet, looking
+for the most fertile areas.  That was old habit; the Elders wanted him
+to take as much as possible.  But he didn't want to send the harvesters
+down to an area that was inferior to some other area.  Even though the
+Elders wanted him to pluck the planet bare, he knew--and they
+knew--that they only had resources enough to harvest a large part, but
+not all, of the planet.
 
- Ralph made a restless movement.
+The Elder had been lurking all day.  Something was bothering him, but
+he was saying nothing.  Cicoi was actually grateful for that.  He was
+getting tired of having the Elder constantly in his head.
 
- "No go, Piggy. We've got no fire. That thing sits up there--we'll have to stay here."
+"Commander."  His Second was standing before him, all eye stalks
+extended, eyes facing forward in a circle, the position of respect.
 
- Piggy lifted the conch as though to add power to his next words.
+"What?"  Cicoi asked, not pointing a single eyestalk toward his Second.
+He had specifically asked not to be disturbed.  How much time would
+pass before someone understood that when Cicoi asked not to be
+disturbed it meant to leave him alone?
 
- "We got no fire on the mountain. But what's wrong with a fire down here? A fire could be built on them rocks. On the sand, even. We'd make smoke just the same."
+"The creatures from the third planet have sent something hurtling our
+way."
 
- "That's right!"
+"Another probe?"  Cicoi asked, trying to keep the exasperation from his
+voice.  The probes had led to a huge argument with the Elders.  Cicoi
+and the other Commanders had agreed that sending a ship out to gather
+energy from the probes would waste more energy in fuel than they would
+receive.  The Elders weren't so worried about the probes'
 
- "Smoke!"
+energy as they were about the information they would send back to the
+third planet.
 
- "By the bathing pool!"
+Every time we think them primitive, Cicoi's Elder had thought to him,
+we learn they have grown tremendously since the last Pass.
 
- The boys began to babble. Only Piggy could have the intellectual daring to suggest moving the fire from the mountain.
+Grown yes, but probes and information were not a threat.  Cicoi didn't
+want to worry about the creatures until Malmur was much closer.
 
- "So we'll have the fire down here," said Ralph. He looked about him. "We can build it just here between the bathing pool and the platform. Of course--"
+"No, Commander," the Second said.  "This seems much bigger than the
+last few probes that we have monitored."
 
- He broke off, frowning, thinking the thing out, unconsciously tugging at the stub of a nail with his teeth.
+That caught his attention.  He raised two eye stalks  His Second was
+also poised on top of his lower tentacles, and not balanced well.  He
+was tottering slightly.
 
- "Of course the smoke won't show so much, not be seen so far away. But we needn't go near, near the--"
+Cicoi waved an upper tentacle, signaling his Second to stand down.  His
+Second did, with obvious relief.  His eye stalks remained in a position
+of respect, however.
 
- The others nodded in perfect comprehension. There would be no need to go near.
+"Bigger?"
 
- "We'll build the fire now."
+"Yes, Commander."
 
- The greatest ideas are the simplest. Now there was something to be done they worked with passion. Piggy was so full of delight and expanding liberty in Jack's departure, so full of pride in his contribution to the good of society, that he helped to fetch wood. The wood he fetched was close at hand, a fallen tree on the platform that they did not need for the assembly, yet to the others the sanctity of the platform had protected even what was useless there. Then the twins realized they would have a fire near them as a comfort in the night and this set a few littluns dancing and clapping hands.
+With his sixth upper tentacle, Cicoi activated a vision ball.  It rose
+between him and the Second.  "Where?"  he asked.
 
- The wood was not so dry as the fuel they had used on the mountain. Much of it was damply rotten and full of insects that scurried; logs had to be lifted from the soil with care or they crumbled into sodden powder. More than this, in order to avoid going deep into the forest the boys worked near at hand on any fallen wood no matter how tangled with new growth. The skirts of the forest and the scar were familiar, near the conch and the shelters and sufficiently friendly in daylight. What they might become in darkness nobody cared to think. They worked therefore with great energy and cheerfulness, though as time crept by there was a suggestion of panic in the energy and hysteria in the cheerfulness. They built a pyramid of leaves and twigs, branches and logs, on the bare sand by the platform. For the first time on the island, Piggy himself removed his one glass, knelt down and focused the sun on tinder. Soon there was a ceiling of smoke and a bush of yellow flame.
+"Coming from the third planet."
 
- The littluns who had seen few fires since the first catastrophe became wildly excited. They danced and sang and there was a partyish air about the gathering.
+Cicoi had the ball show him the area of space and saw a shape,
+cylindrical, and quite large, heading in their general direction.  Then
+he pulled out two other eye stalks and held them close to the vision
+ball.  Not a single cylinder.  But several.
 
- At last Ralph stopped work and stood up, smudging the sweat from his face with a dirty forearm.
+They were too far away to count.
 
- "We'll have to have a small fire. This one's too big to keep up."
+"These are too large to be probes," he said.
 
- Piggy sat down carefully on the sand and began to polish his glass.
+"Probably not," said his Third, who had come up beside the Second.  The
+Third's eye stalks were also in a position of respect.  "Probes can
+come in all sizes."
 
- "We could experiment. We could find out how to make a small hot fire and then put green branches on to make smoke. Some of them leaves must be better for that than the others."
+"But we have monitored their probes," Cicoi said.  "None were this
+large."
 
- As the fire died down so did the excitement. The littluns stopped singing and dancing and drifted away toward the sea or the fruit trees or the shelters.
+"We cannot assume everything about the third planet is uniform."
 
- Ralph dropped down in the sand.
+Cicoi lifted three eye stalks straight up, eyes pointed at the
+ceiling. It was a sign of disgust.  He had studied the third planet
+from his pod ling days.  The creatures of the third planet preferred
+uniformity in function and design.  It pleased their aesthetics.  Just
+as it pleased the Malmuria.
 
- "We'll have to make a new list of who's to look after the fire."
+Cicoi let his eye stalks drop as the thought dissipated.  He had tried
+not to think of any similarities between the third planet's creatures
+and Malmuria since he had been accepted into the military.
 
- "If you can find 'em."
+"We must be suspicious of difference," he said.  "Monitor these
+cylinders.  When they get closer--"
 
- He looked round. Then for the first time he saw how few biguns there were and understood why the work had been so hard.
+We will die.
 
- "Where's Maurice?"
+The Elder had returned.  Cicoi withheld a curse, and finished his
+sentence.  "When they get closer, we will see if we must take other
+action."
 
- Piggy wiped his glass again.
+His Second and Third both raised their upper tentacles in a gesture of
+respect, and turned away.  Then Cicoi left his workstation and went
+into the antechamber.  He did not like having conversations with the
+Elder in public.  It felt too revealing.
 
- "I expect . . . no, he wouldn't go into the forest by himself, would he?"
+"If you think we will die, then tell me what those things are," he
+said.
 
- Ralph jumped up, ran swiftly round the fire and stood by Piggy, holding up his hair.
+Ida not know, the Elder's strange voice was inside his head yet again.
+Cicoi hated this method of communication.  But we have underestimated
+these creatures too much.  We cannot let the cylinders get close.
 
- "But we've got to have a list! There's you and me and Samneric and--"
+"What do you propose we do?"
 
- He would not look at Piggy but spoke casually.
+Send ships to intercept.  Rob them of their energy as you have done
+with other space debris.
 
- "Where's Bill and Roger?"
+Cicoi remembered the vision ball.  He saw the shapes, but the energy
+readings beneath were small, at least from a distance.
 
- Piggy leaned forward and put a fragment of wood on the fire.
+"We have the same problem," he said.  "It would use up too many
+resources.  We would not get enough in return."
 
- "I expect they've gone. I expect they won't play either."
+Knowledge is something, the Elder said.  Without it, too many mistakes
+are made.
 
- Ralph sat down and began to poke little holes in the sand. He was surprised to see that one had a drop of blood by it. He examined his bitten nail closely and watched the little globe of blood that gathered where the quick was gnawed away.
+"You mean, I make too many mistakes."
 
- Piggy went on speaking.
+You and all of your young kind, the Elder said.  Somewhere along the
+way you have become dangerously cautious.  If we had been so
+dangerously cautious, our race would be dead now.
 
- "I seen them stealing off when we was gathering wood. They went that way. The same way as he went himself."
+There was a lot of history in those words, some of which Cicoi
+understood and some he did not.  He did know that it had taken courage
+for the leaders of the South, Center, and North to band together, to
+get the Malmuria to work together as a species, despite their
+differences.  It had taken a great risk to throw Malmur out of its
+orbit as its sun went nova instead of building the ships that some had
+suggested, ships that would have scattered the people among distant
+stars.
 
- Ralph finished his inspection and looked up into the air. The sky, as if in sympathy with the great changes among them, was different today and so misty that in some places the hot air seemed white. The disc of the sun was dull silver as though it were nearer and not so hot, yet the air stifled.
+"What do you think these are?"  Cicoi asked.
 
- "They always been making trouble, haven't they?"
+You have said yourself they are too big for probes, at least of the
+kind we have seen, the Elder said.  Think strategically.  Obviously the
+creatures of the third planet can.  You have sent probes into space to
+find out all you can of your enemies.  If you were to send something
+else, what would it be?
 
- The voice came near his shoulder and sounded anxious. "We can do without 'em. We'll be happier now, won't we?"
+"A weapon?"  Cicoi felt all of his upper tentacles rise in horror.
 
- Ralph sat. The twins came, dragging a great log and grinning in their triumph. They dumped the log among the embers so that sparks flew.
+We have thought of them as primitives for too long.  And they were,
+when we first began coming to this planet.  But they no longer are.
+They have space travel and cities and societies.  They have reason, and
+they have obviously found a way to codify their history.  They have
+looked at the record, my young friend, or perhaps they have an oral
+tradition that warned them.  They know we never come for just one
+Harvest.  They know we are going to make another.  They are going to
+strike first.  It is a way some creatures have of defending
+themselves.
 
- "We can do all right on our own, can't we?"
+"You sound like you have sympathy for them," Cicoi said.
 
- For a long time while the log dried, caught fire and turned red hot, Ralph sat in the sand and said nothing. He did not see Piggy go to the twins and whisper to them, nor how the three boys went together into the forest.
+The Elder floated before him.  Cicoi hadn't seen the Elder until then.
+Where had he been?  Behind Cicoi?  Or did Elders have a way of being
+present without being visible?
 
- "Here you are."
+I did not have sympathy for them when we first came to the third
+planet.  In those dark days, they were not different from other
+life-forms on that planet.  But they have proven themselves smart and
+strong, and they have shown that they are worthy opponents.  In my day,
+before we lost our sun, a worthy opponent was all we sought.
 
- He came to himself with a jolt. Piggy and the other two were by him. They were laden with fruit.
+"Going into space at this time would waste energy we cannot afford to
+lose," Cicoi said.
 
- "I thought perhaps," said Piggy, "we ought to have a feast, kind of."
+You sound like your compatriots in the North and Center.  The Elder's
+eye stalks were rotating.  Cicoi had learned that was the Elders' way
+of expressing disgust.  Cautious to the end.
 
- The three boys sat down. They had a great mass of the fruit with them and all of it properly ripe. They grinned at Ralph as he took some and began to eat.
+"Caution has its place," Cicoi said.
 
- "Thanks," he said. Then with an accent of pleased surprise--"Thanks!"
+But not here.  Not now.  If I am right and you are wrong, we lose more
+than a bit of energy.  We lose lives we cannot afford to give.  Perhaps
+we lose everything.
 
- "Do all right on our own," said Piggy. "It's them that haven't no common sense that make trouble on this island. We'll make a little hot fire--"
+"Do you believe the creatures of the third planet have that kind of
+power?"
 
- Ralph remembered what had been worrying him.
+"I would not have believed that they had discovered space travel, the
+Elder said.  But they have, and now we must contend with that.
 
- "Where's Simon?"
+Cicoi felt his upper tentacles droop.  "What if I'm wrong?  What if
+these things are probes?"
 
- "I don't know."
+Then absorb their energy as you have done with so many other things.
+The trip will be worthwhile, just for that.
 
- "You don't think he's climbing the mountain?"
+The Elder did not understand the kind of waste he was promoting.  His
+time had been so different.  He had not been born to limited resources,
+to long periods of darkness and cold.  He did not understand.
 
- Piggy broke into noisy laughter and took more fruit. "He might be." He gulped his mouthful. "He's cracked."
+"Every time we do something like this," Cicoi said, "we jeopardize
+lives."
 
- 
+The Elder wrapped his upper tentacles around his torso.  We jeopardize
+the entire planet whenever we pocket our eye stalks and refuse to see
+what is around us.
 
- Simon had passed through the area of fruit trees but today the littluns had been too busy with the fire on the beach and they had not pursued him there. He went on among the creepers until he reached the great mat that was woven by the open space and crawled inside. Beyond the screen of leaves the sunlight pelted down and the butterflies danced in the middle their unending dance. He knelt down and the arrow of the sun fell on him. That other time the air had seemed to vibrate with heat; but now it threatened. Soon the sweat was running from his long coarse hair. He shifted restlessly but there was no avoiding the sun. Presently he was thirsty, and then very thirsty. He continued to sit.
+Cicoi flapped four upper tentacles in distress, but the Elder didn't
+seem to notice.
 
- 
+You will send ships to intercept those cylinders.  Warships.
 
- Far off along the beach, Jack was standing before a small group of boys. He was looking brilliantly happy.
+"But we've only gotten a few ready and we need them when we approach
+the third planet."
 
- "Hunting," he said. He sized them up. Each of them wore the remains of a black cap and ages ago they had stood in two demure rows and their voices had been the song of angels.
+You will send warships, the Elder said.
 
- "We'll hunt. I'm going to be chief."
+Cicoi pocketed his eye stalks in protest.
 
- They nodded, and the crisis passed easily.
+No matter how much you deny, you will listen to me.  You may have
+experience with deprivation, but I have experience with war.  We are in
+danger from those creatures.  You must acknowledge this and head it
+off.
 
- "And then--about the beast."
+"I'm not wasting the energy of the South's warships on this mission,"
+Cicoi said.
 
- They moved, looked at the forest.
+The other commanders will send ships.  They will do as they are told.
+So will you, the Elder said.
 
- "I say this. We aren't going to bother about the beast."
+"This is a mistake," Cicoi said.
 
- He nodded at them.
+Yes, your plan is a mistake, the Elder said.  I am amazed we did not
+catch these cylinders sooner.  We should have destroyed the probes as I
+wished.  Now we will pay the consequences.
 
- "We're going to forget the beast."
+Cicoi kept his eye stalks pocketed for a long moment, but said nothing.
+There was nothing else to say.  He had lost, and he knew it.
 
- "That's right!"
+Finally, he raised a single stalk.  The Elder was gone.  Cicoi let his
+tentacles droop.  Lost energy, lost resources, and all for a bit of
+curiosity.  Curiosity that could have been satisfied if they only
+waited.
 
- "Yes!"
+But he would do the Elder's bidding.  He would take the five
+functioning warships into space, and he would examine those
+cylinders.
 
- "Forget the beast!"
+He only hoped he would get enough energy from them to make up for at
+least half of the waste.
 
- If Jack was astonished by their fervor he did not show it.
+August 1,2018
 
- "And another thing. We shan't dream so much down here. This is near the end of the island."
+6:45 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- They agreed passionately out of the depths of their tormented private lives.
+101 Days Until Second.  Harvest
 
- "Now listen. We might go later to the castle rock. But now I'm going to get more of the biguns away from the conch and all that. We'll kill a pig and give a feast." He paused and went on more slowly. "And about the beast. When we kill we'll leave some of the kill for it. Then it won't bother us, maybe."
+Mickelson loosened the tie around his neck.  The fifteenth formal
+dinner he'd had to attend in a row.  It was beginning to get tiresome.
+In a day or so, he would call Cross and see if Constance could whip
+them up something wonderful and old-fashioned, something impossible to
+get at the fancy restaurants where he had to take other diplomats.
 
- He stood up abruptly.
+He longed for this whirlwind to end.  But he knew it wouldn't.  Not
+until the missiles hit the tenth planet.
 
- "We'll go into the forest now and hunt."
+He wished he could take the tie off, but he couldn't.  He'd had this
+meeting scheduled for two days now.  The president wanted to touch base
+with his key advisers, something he'd been doing off and on since the
+missiles were launched.  The first meetings were held in the Oval
+Office, but Franklin had been inviting more and more of his advisers.
+So tonight's was being held in the Roosevelt Room.
 
- He turned and trotted away and after a moment they followed him obediently.
+The Roosevelt Room was across the hall from the Oval Office.  Lopez had
+left the door open, and had placed beverages and snacks on the center
+of the large table.  A few advisers were already inside.  Mickelson
+peered in, wished he hadn't loosened his tie at all, and then crossed
+the threshold.
 
- They spread out, nervously, in the forest. Almost at once Jack found the dung and scattered roots that told of pig and soon the track was fresh. Jack signaled the rest of the hunt to be quiet and went forward by himself. He was happy and wore the damp darkness of the forest like his old clothes. He crept down a slope to rocks and scattered trees by the sea.
+He had loved this room early in the Franklin administration.  Then
+Franklin had gotten the bright idea to restore the room's original
+furnishings.  When those couldn't be found, he settled for some
+mid-twentieth century couches and chairs along the side, a grandfather
+clock in the back corner, and a plastic-looking conference table that
+someone said was an antique from the 1960s.
 
- The pigs lay, bloated bags of fat, sensuously enjoying the shadows under the trees. There was no wind and they were unsuspicious; and practice had made Jack silent as the shadows. He stole away again and instructed his hidden hunters. Presently they all began to inch forward sweating in the silence and heat. Under the trees an ear flapped idly. A little apart from the rest, sunk in deep maternal bliss, lay the largest sow of the lot. She was black and pink; and the great bladder of her belly was fringed with a row of piglets that slept or burrowed and squeaked.
+To Mickelson, the table was an affront.  It didn't go with the
+fireplace, which was original to the West Wing, or the lovely
 
- Fifteen yards from the drove Jack stopped, and his arm, straightening, pointed at the sow. He looked round in inquiry to make sure that everyone understood and the other boys nodded at him. The row of right arms slid back.
+arched door.  Mickelson had complained loudly about the table and the
+mixed decor as well as the soft orange color of the wall, and the burnt
+orange color of the rug.  He had complained so loudly and so often that
+Franklin had finally hauled out a photograph, which dated from the
+1970s, of the room, and it looked just like it looked now.  Ugly and
+mismatched and uncomfortable.
 
- "Now!"
+It wasn't until someone told Mickelson that Franklin's predecessor had
+redecorated that Mickelson understood Franklin's decision to make the
+room his own.
 
- The drove of pigs started up; and at a range of only ten yards the wooden spears with fire-hardened points flew toward the chosen pig. One piglet, with a demented shriek, rushed into the sea trailing Roger's spear behind it. The sow gave a gasping squeal and staggered up, with two spears sticking in her fat flank. The boys shouted and rushed forward, the piglets scattered and the sow burst the advancing line and went crashing away through the forest.
+Still, Mickelson wished he would have improved it.
 
- "After her!"
+The advisers who were waiting were O'Grady and Bernstein.  Lopez was
+down the hall, but she would join them as well.  Mickelson looked at
+the makeup of the group and already knew tonight's topic: the state of
+the world since the declaration of war.
 
- They raced along the pig-track, but the forest was too dark and tangled so that Jack, cursing, stopped them and cast among the trees. Then he said nothing for a time but breathed fiercely so that they were awed by him and looked at each other in uneasy admiration. Presently he stabbed down at the ground with his finger.
+He suppressed a sigh.  His job had actually gotten easier since war was
+declared.  All the usual hot spots had cooled.  No one wanted to be
+fighting among themselves when the aliens arrived.  Issues weren't
+settled, of course, but that didn't matter.  Right now, issues such as
+historical boundaries and trade agreements had been made moot.  No one
+knew if they would even have a country three months from now, let alone
+borders to argue about.
 
- "There--"
+Bernstein looked up from her conversation with O'Grady and her gaze met
+Mickelson's.  They hadn't talked much since the night of the
+president's speech.  Mostly Mickelson had avoided her.  He didn't
+really want to talk to her.  She intimidated him, attracted him, and
+made him feel foolish all at the same time.
 
- Before the others could examine the drop of blood, Jack had swerved off, judging a trace, touching a bough that gave. So he followed, mysteriously right and assured, and the hunters trod behind him.
+It didn't help that her prediction of civil unrest had come true.
 
- He stopped before a covert.
+But not as bad as she had said it was going to be.  There had been a
+march on Washington, peaceniks who didn't believe in
 
- "In there."
+the use of force, such a nonevent that no news station carried it.
+There had been five bombings, one in Denver, one in Chicago, one in New
+York, and two in Los Angeles, all government buildings.  There were two
+assaults on military installations.  And one attempt, in Washington
+state, to sink a fleet of ships in Puget Sound.
 
- They surrounded the covert but the sow got away with the sting of another spear in her flank. The trailing butts hindered her and the sharp, cross-cut points were a torment. She blundered into a tree, forcing a spear still deeper; and after that any of the hunters could follow her easily by the drops of vivid blood. The afternoon wore on, hazy and dreadful with damp heat; the sow staggered her way ahead of them, bleeding and mad, and the hunters followed, wedded to her in lust, excited by the long chase and the dropped blood. They could see her now, nearly got up with her, but she spurted with her last strength and held ahead of them again. They were just behind her when she staggered into an open space where bright flowers grew and butterflies danced round each other and the air was hot and still.
+The image from those few days after the declaration of war that stuck
+with Mickelson was of a woman running from a bombed and burning IRS
+building in Los Angeles.
 
- Here, struck down by the heat, the sow fell and the hunters hurled themselves at her. This dreadful eruption from an unknown world made her frantic; she squealed and bucked and the air was full of sweat and noise and blood and terror. Roger ran round the heap, prodding with his spear whenever pigflesh appeared. Jack was on top of the sow, stabbing downward with his knife. Roger found a lodgment for his point and began to push till he was leaning with his whole weight. The spear moved forward inch by inch and the terrified squealing became a highpitched scream. Then Jack found the throat and the hot blood spouted over his hands. The sow collapsed under them and they were heavy and fulfilled upon her. The butterflies still danced, preoccupied in the center of the clearing.
+He could see it as if he were there.  He remembered every detail of it
+shown on the news.
 
- At last the immediacy of the kill subsided. The boys drew back, and Jack stood up, holding out his hands.
+The woman's clothes were on fire, and she carried a child in her arms.
+He had heard she'd been there visiting friends she worked with, showing
+them her new baby.
 
- "Look."
+A news crew was in the street and caught her running from the bombed
+building.
 
- He giggled and flicked them while the boys laughed at his reeking palms. Then Jack grabbed Maurice and rubbed the stuff over his cheeks. Roger began to withdraw his spear and boys noticed it for the first time. Robert stabilized the thing in a phrase which was received uproariously.
+The faster she ran, the more the flames engulfed her.
 
- "Right up her ass!"
+The image of pain on her face was something Mickelson would never
+forget.  He had thought of it over and over, trying to understand it.
 
- "Did you hear?"
+Pain.
 
- "Did you hear what he said?"
+And intense fear as she tried to save her child.
 
- "Right up her ass!"
+Finally, as the flames engulfed her, she had gone down on her knees in
+the street.  A passerby and the news broadcaster had tried to beat out
+the flames with coats, and as they had, the woman had offered them her
+child in a burning blanket.
 
- This time Robert and Maurice acted the two parts; and Maurice's acting of the pig's efforts to avoid the advancing spear was so funny that the boys cried with laughter.
+The newscaster badly burned his hands taking it.
 
- At length even this palled. Jack began to clean his bloody hands on the rock. Then he started work on the sow and paunched her, lugging out the hot bags of colored guts, pushing them into a pile on the rock while the others watched him. He talked as he worked.
+Neither the woman nor the child survived.
 
- "We'll take the meat along the beach. I'll go back to the platform and invite them to a feast. That should give us time."
+The unrest had lasted for days, then slowly faded.
 
- Roger spoke.
+But the memory of that woman and child would never fade for
+Mickelson.
 
- "Chief--"
+Bernstein crossed the room and stopped in front of Mickelson.  She
+touched the loosened knot of his tie.  "You know, you should really
+commit.  Either tighten it or take it off."
 
- "Uh--?"
+"If I take it off, I fail to show respect for my commander and chief,"
+Mickelson said only partly sarcastically, "and if I tighten it, I swear
+I'll choke to death."
 
- "How can we make a fire?"
+"Oh, you have room," she said, and started to tighten the knot.
 
- Jack squatted back and frowned at the pig.
+He stopped her by placing his hand over hers.  Her skin was softer and
+warmer than he'd expected.  "It's not the room," he said.  "It's the
+idea."
 
- "We'll raid them and take fire. There must be four of you; Henry and you, Robert and Maurice. We'll put on paint and sneak up; Roger can snatch a branch while I say what I want. The rest of you can get this back to where we were. We'll build the fire there. And after that--"
+She smiled a little.  Then she moved her hand and dropped her gaze.  "I
+suppose you think I'm an alarmist."
 
- He paused and stood up, looking at the shadows under the trees. His voice was lower when he spoke again.
+He could have lied, but he didn't see the point.  "Yeah."
 
- "But we'll leave part of the kill for . . ."
+"I was wrong about the reaction to the speech.  I thought people would
+take to the streets.  I'm not wrong about the unrest."
 
- He knelt down again and was busy with his knife. The boys crowded round him. He spoke over his shoulder to Roger.
+"We're at war," he said to her.  "We've been attacked as a world.  We
+respond as a world."
 
- "Sharpen a stick at both ends."
+She shrugged and turned away.
 
- Presently he stood up, holding the dripping sow's head in his hands.
+O'Grady had heard part of that.  "If she knew her history, she'd know
+that people rally after their homes have been violated," he said.
 
- "Where's that stick?"
+"I know my history," she said, turning back to face O'Grady.  "Who was
+this room named for?"
 
- "Here."
+"Gosh," O'Grady said.  "I have a fifty-fifty shot here, and the West
+Wing was finished in the 1920s, so I'm guessing the namesake of the
+teddy bear, Mr.  Theodore Roosevelt, our twenty-sixth president."
 
- "Ram one end in the earth. Oh--it's rock. Jam it in that crack. There."
+"And what did his cousin, our thirty-second president, call this
+room?"
 
- Jack held up the head and jammed the soft throat down on the pointed end of the stick which pierced through into the mouth. He stood back and the head hung there, a little blood dribbling down the stick.
+"Hell," Mickelson said, "if it was decorated like this."
 
- Instinctively the boys drew back too; and the forest was very still. They listened, and the loudest noise was the buzzing of flies over the spilled guts.
+O'Grady looked blank.  "How the hell should I know that?"  he asked.
 
- Jack spoke in a whisper.
+"The Fish Room," she said.  "He called it the Fish Room because he felt
+stupid calling it the Roosevelt Room."
 
- "Pick up the pig."
+"That's not history," O'Grady said, "that's interior decoration."
 
- Maurice and Robert skewered the carcass, lifted the dead weight, and stood ready. In the silence, and standing over the dry blood, they looked suddenly furtive.
+Her eyes narrowed.  "I know my history," she said.  "Iprobably know it
+better than you.  I know that the United States rallied when we were
+attacked at Pearl Harbor.  I know that England, when it was bombed in
+the very same war, came together as a nation.  I know that Afghanistan
+rebels, in their determination to drive the Soviets off their soil,
+helped destroy an empire.  I know all of that.  It's basic stuff."
 
- Jack spoke loudly.
+She leaned in closer.  "But I also know the history of extremism, and I
+know that when it's unchecked, especially in times of war, we're in
+trouble."
 
- "This head is for the beast. It's a gift."
+"So what are you suggesting?"  O'Grady asked.  "Taking all the UFO nuts
+who appeared over all the years and putting them in internment
+camps?"
 
- The silence accepted the gift and awed them. The head remained there, dim-eyed, grinning faintly, blood blackening between the teeth. All at once they were running away, as fast as they could, through the forest toward the open beach.
+There was a silence in the room at that moment, and O'Grady's last
+comment sounded louder than O'Grady had clearly intended.  Over
+O'Grady's shoulder, Mickelson saw Franklin in the doorway, his face
+dark.
 
- 
+"Internment camps aren't anything to joke about, Shamus," he said.
 
- Simon stayed where he was, a small brown image, concealed by the leaves. Even if he shut his eyes the sow's head still remained like an after-image. The half-shut eyes were dim with the infinite cynicism of adult life. They assured Simon that everything was a bad business.
+O'Grady flushed a deep red and turned.  "I didn't mean offense, sir."
 
- "I know that."
+"Yes, you did.  You meant to offend Director Bernstein, and I won't
+have it.  We're under too much pressure for your normal wry humor."
 
- Simon discovered that he had spoken aloud. He opened his eyes quickly and there was the head grinning amusedly in the strange daylight, ignoring the flies, the spilled guts, even ignoring the indignity of being spiked on a stick.
+O'Grady nodded.  Mickelson wished he could blend into the orange wall.
+Tempers were short, patience was frayed.  These conversations never
+used to happen with Franklin's advisers.
 
- He looked away, licking his dry lips.
+"I take it you're talking about the lack of dissent," Franklin said as
+he approached the head of the table.  The others did as well. Mickelson
+put his hand on the leather upholstered chair, with the brass buttons
+holding the fabric in place.  By the time the meeting was half over, he
+knew, those buttons would be creating welts in his back. "Actually,
+Mr.  President," Bernstein said, "what prompted Shamus remark was my
+observation that extremism in times of war should not go unchecked."
 
- A gift for the beast. Might not the beast come for it? The head, he thought, appeared to agree with him. Run away, said the head silently, go back to the others. It was a joke really--why should you bother? You were just wrong, that's all. A little headache, something you ate, perhaps. Go back, child, said the head silently.
+Franklin shot her a withering glance.  "Director, you've warned me of
+riots and dissent, which are simply not happening.  Except for those
+small bombs which were, I grant you, distressing, we've seen nothing
+since I made my speech."
 
- Simon looked up, feeling the weight of his wet hair, and gazed at the sky. Up there, for once, were clouds, great bulging towers that sprouted away over the island, grey and cream and copper-colored. The clouds were sitting on the land; they squeezed, produced moment by moment this close, tormenting heat. Even the butterflies deserted the open space where the obscene thing grinned and dripped. Simon lowered his head, carefully keeping his eyes shut, then sheltered them with his hand. There were no shadows under the trees but everywhere a pearly stillness, so that what was real seemed illusive and without definition. The pile of guts was a black blob of flies that buzzed like a saw. After a while these flies found Simon. Gorged, they alighted by his runnels of sweat and drank. They tickled under his nostrils and played leapfrog on his thighs. They were black and iridescent green and without number; and in front of Simon, the Lord of the Flies hung on his stick and grinned. At last Simon gave up and looked back; saw the white teeth and dim eyes, the blood--and his gaze was held by that ancient, inescapable recognition. In Simon's right temple, a pulse began to beat on the brain.
+"That worries me," Bernstein said.  "The hate mongering has grown, sir,
+and so has the discontent.  I'm afraid that things are actually being
+planned."
 
- 
+"And I am not going to worry about a threat that may or may not be
+real," Franklin said, effectively closing the door on that
+conversation.  "What are you seeing in Europe, Doug?"
 
- Ralph and Piggy lay in the sand, gazing at the fire and idly flicking pebbles into its smokeless heart.
+Mickelson resisted the urge to bring his hand to his tie knot and
+tighten it.  "It's about the same, sir," he said.  "No great dissent, a
+lot of cooperation.  There's been some moaning that the United States
+has taken the lead, but in Europe at least, no one seems to mind."
 
- "That branch is gone."
+"In Europe, at least," O'Grady repeated.  "Which means that people mind
+elsewhere."
 
- "Where's Samneric?"
+"Asia mostly," Mickelson said.  "China in particular.  But right now
+they don't see any way around it.  My sense is, from the heads of state
+I've spoken to, that most countries are relieved that we're taking the
+front position."
 
- "We ought to get some more wood. We're out of green branches."
+"So that if we fail, they can blame us," Franklin said.
 
- Ralph sighed and stood up. There were no shadows under the palms on the platform; only this strange light that seemed to come from everywhere at once. High up among the bulging clouds thunder went off like a gun.
+"But we won't fail."  Lopez was in the room.  She had pulled the door
+closed.  Mickelson fought a surge of irritation at her comment.  Since
+the speech, she had become Franklin's greatest cheerleader.  Mickelson
+had never really thought that that had been the position the chief of
+staff should take.
 
- "We're going to get buckets of rain."
+Franklin, too, apparently found the comment a tad too obsequious.  "We
+might," he said.  "Nothing is guaranteed until those nukes blow that
+planet out of the sky."
 
- "What about the fire?"
+His metaphor was mixed, but that was the only problem with his
+statement.  Mickelson agreed heartily with it, and he'd never
+considered himself a hawk--that is, not before the tenth planet
+arrived.
 
- Ralph trotted into the forest and returned with a wide spray of green which he dumped on the fire. The branch crackled, the leaves curled and the yellow smoke expanded.
+"What about our borders, Shamus?"  Franklin asked.  "Are we having any
+problems?"
 
- Piggy made an aimless little pattern in the sand with his fingers.
+O'Grady shook his head.  "Even the illegals have slowed.  Right now,
+people are sticking close to home.  It's my sense that no one is
+looking at their own problems.  We're all looking at the heavens,
+waiting for those nukes to go off."
 
- "Trouble is, we haven't got enough people for a fire. You got to treat Samnenc as one turn. They do everything together--"
+"Yeah," Lopez said.  "I saw in one of the vid chats a kid say that he
+hoped you could see the explosions with the naked eye."
 
- "Of course."
+"I doubt we'll be able to see them with the large telescopes,"
+Mickelson said.  "From what I hear, the only information we're getting
+is from the probes."
 
- "Well, that isn't fair. Don't you see? They ought to do two turns."
+"And it's good enough," Franklin said.  "Right now, everything is a go.
+No problems so far.  And that's all that matters."
 
- Ralph considered this and understood. He was vexed to find how little he thought like a grownup and sighed again. The island was getting worse and worse.
+"We're in the calm before the storm," Bernstein said.  Her pessimism
+was beginning to grate on Mickelson's nerves.
 
- Piggy looked at the fire.
+"Maybe," O'Grady said.  "Or maybe we're catching a break."
 
- "You'll want another green branch soon."
+"I think those aliens have thought of us as easy targets for so long,
+we'll whup them with sheer surprise alone," Lopez said.
 
- Ralph rolled over.
+Mickelson let the conversation drift around him.  That's how these
+meetings had been ending up.  Endless discussions of the possibilities
+of success.  It seemed like Franklin needed almost nightly reassurance
+that he had taken the right course of action.  Mickelson thought it was
+interesting that in all of these meetings he'd attended, Maddox or
+other members of the Joint Chiefs hadn't been here, nor had the science
+advisers.  The people who were still working on ways of defeating the
+tenth planet when it got closer to Earth hadn't
 
- "Piggy. What are we going to do?"
+stopped their work, nor did they debate the success of the missiles.
 
- "Just have to get on without 'em."
+They went on as if they had a deadline, an important one.  Mickelson
+wondered if they knew something he didn't.
 
- "But--the fire."
+"You're quiet, Doug," Franklin said.
 
- He frowned at the black and white mess in which lay the unburnt ends of branches. He tried to formulate.
+"Yeah," Mickelson said.  "One too many diplomatic dinners, I guess."
 
- "I'm scared."
+Franklin raised his eyebrows slightly.  "Is it that, or something more
+profound?"
 
- He saw Piggy look up; and blundered on.
+Bernstein was staring at him.  O'Grady was studying his hands.  Lopez
+was watching Franklin.
 
- "Not of the beast. I mean I'm scared of that too. But nobody else understands about the fire. If someone threw you a rope when you were drowning. If a doctor said take this because if you don't take it you'll die--you would, wouldn't you? I mean?"
+"We keep acting as if we expect the other shoe to drop," Mickelson
+said.  "I guess I'm wondering when it will."
 
- "'Course I would."
+O'Grady shook his head.  "I think we're not used to the time between
+action and result."
 
- "Can't they see? Can't they understand? Without the smoke signal we'll die here? Look at that!"
+"Huh?"  Lopez said.
 
- A wave of heated air trembled above the ashes but without a trace of smoke.
+Franklin also looked confused, but Mickelson got it.
 
- "We can't keep one fire going. And they don't care. And what's more--" He looked intensely into Piggy's streaming face.
+"Yeah," he said.  "I suppose we'd always assumed if we'd launched
+nuclear missiles, we'd know what got hit and when within the hour. We'd
+know if we'd wiped out our enemy, or if we had simply made things
+worse.  But this time, we're waiting weeks."
 
- "What's more, _I_ don't sometimes. Supposing I got like the others--not caring. What 'ud become of us?"
+"I hadn't thought of that," Lopez said softly.
 
- Piggy took off his glasses, deeply troubled.
+"It's turning Bernstein into a Cassandra," O'Grady said.  "And--"
 
- "I dunno, Ralph. We just got to go on, that's all. That's what grownups would do."
+"Watch it," Bernstein said.  "Cassandra was right."
 
- Ralph, having begun the business of unburdening himself, continued.
+"Tavi," the president warned.
 
- "Piggy, what's wrong?"
+"I'll stop," she said.  "Although I shouldn't."
 
- Piggy looked at him in astonishment.
+Franklin sighed.  "We are spinning our wheels.  It doesn't feel right
+to work on domestic problems, and there seems to be little foreign work
+we can do.  I guess you're right, Shamus.  We're waiting, and none of
+us are very good at that."
 
- "Do you mean the--?"
+"I'd like the wait to be over," Mickelson said.
 
- "No, not it . . . I mean . . . what makes things break up like they do?"
+"Me, too," Lopez said.
 
- Piggy rubbed his glasses slowly and thought. When he understood how far Ralph had gone toward accepting him he flushed pinkly with pride.
+Franklin looked at both of them.  "I only want the wait to end if we
+get the result we want," he said.
 
- "I dunno, Ralph. I expect it's him."
+"You think there's a realistic chance we won't?"  O'Grady asked,
+sounding a bit surprised.  "I'd be a fool if I counted on anything,"
+Franklin said.  "As bizarre as this is, we're fighting a war here."
 
- "Jack?"
+Mickelson's heart was pounding.  He hadn't heard Franklin this
+pessimistic since the initial attack.
 
- "Jack." A taboo was evolving round that word too.
+"I trust you have backup plans," Bernstein said.
 
- Ralph nodded solemnly.
+Mickelson knew of some of them.  He was surprised she didn't.  Then he
+realized that, with her dire and incorrect warnings, and the domestic
+focus of her job, she probably had no need to know.
 
- "Yes," he said, "I suppose it must be."
+"Oh, we have plans," Franklin said.  "But if this is the first volley
+in a protracted struggle, we're in trouble."
 
- The forest near them burst into uproar. Demoniac figures with faces of white and red and green rushed out howling, so that the littluns fled screaming. Out of the corner of his eye, Ralph saw Piggy running. Two figures rushed at the fire and he prepared to defend himself but they grabbed half-burnt branches and raced away along the beach. The three others stood still, watching Ralph; and he saw that the tallest of them, stark naked save for paint and a belt, was Jack.
+Then, as if realizing that he was being too pessimistic, he stood, and
+put his hands on the table.  "I'm glad you all came," he said.  "We're
+ending now so that Doug can finish taking off his tie."
 
- Ralph had his breath back and spoke.
+This time, Mickelson's hand flew to the knot.  Franklin gave him a
+wicked grin and walked out of the room.  The others stood too.
 
- "Well?"
+"You think he's scared?"  Bernstein asked.
 
- Jack ignored him, lifted his spear and began to shout.
+Mickelson thought for a moment.  He assumed everyone was scared. They'd
+be fools not to be.
 
- "Listen all of you. Me and my hunters, we're living along the beach by a flat rock. We hunt and feast and have fun. If you want to join my tribe come and see us. Perhaps I'll let you join. Perhaps not."
+"I don't think that's an issue," he said.  "He's doing his job, and
+that's all that matters."
 
- He paused and looked round. He was safe from shame or self-consciousness behind the mask of his paint and could look at each of them in turn. Ralph was kneeling by the remains of the fire like a sprinter at his mark and his face was half-hidden by hair and smut. Samneric peered together round a palm tree at the edge of the forest. A littlun howled, creased and crimson, by the bathing pool and Piggy stood on the platform, the white conch gripped in his hands.
+"I guess."  She looked at the open door, the one Franklin had
+disappeared through.  "For the record, the reason I'm focusing on the
+domestic problem is I believe this nuke thing is going to work."
 
- "Tonight we're having a feast. We've killed a pig and we've got meat. You can come and eat with us if you like."
+Mickelson gave her a sharp glance.
 
- Up in the cloud canyons the thunder boomed again. Jack and the two anonymous savages with him swayed, looking up, and then recovered. The littlun went on howling. Jack was waiting for something. He whispered urgently to the others.
+She shrugged.  "I've been studying nuclear scenarios my entire career,"
+she said.  "No planet can comfortably survive three hundred nuclear
+explosions on its surface.  No planet."
 
- "Go on--now!"
+Her words buoyed his mood.  It surprised him, that she wasn't as
+pessimistic as he had thought.  He smiled, really smiled, for the first
+time in weeks.
 
- The two savages murmured. Jack spoke sharply.
+"You know," he said, "I'd never thought of it that way.  You're exactly
+right."
 
- "Go on!"
+And he left, knowing that, for the first time since the destruction of
+the California coast, he was going to get a good night's sleep.
 
- The two savages looked at each other, raised their spears together and spoke in time.
+10
 
- "The Chief has spoken."
+August 12, 2018
 
- Then the three of them turned and trotted away. Presently Ralph rose to his feet, looking at the place where the savages had vanished. Samneric came, talking in an awed whisper.
+12:31 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- "I thought it was--"
+94 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "--and I was--"
+Vivian Hartlein fixed the strap on her vest where it bit into her side.
+The vest weighed almost thirty pounds and made it hard for her to
+breathe.  And climbing the steps up into the Capitol Building had been
+slow.  With the extra weight she felt like an old woman.
 
- "--scared."
+Over the vest she wore a long raincoat, even though there had been no
+rain forecast.  She knew no one would pay her no mind.  With the
+raincoat and the slow walk, she looked like a crazy old lady, not the
+leader of a group doing its best to bring down a godless government.
 
- Piggy stood above them on the platform, still holding the conch.
+The warm afternoon sun beat on her, the vest heavy, as she climbed the
+long set of stairs toward the Capitol Building.  The images of her
+daughter kept her going.  Cheryl and them grand babies turned to black
+dust.
 
- "That was Jack and Maurice and Robert," said Ralph. "Aren't they having fun?"
+One foot at a time, one step at a time, she climbed until she was close
+to the security checkpoint.  She didn't plan to try to get past them
+deluded guards.  With so much explosive strapped to her, she knew she
+had no chance of getting through, no matter how she looked.
 
- "I thought I was going to have asthma."
+She stopped and rested, pretending to stare at the view behind her.
+The day was almost cool for August, and she was thankful the humidity
+was low.  She wasn't sure she could have climbed those stairs on a
+really hot summer day.  Not with this much weight on her.
 
- "Sucks to your ass-mar."
+Since the president had declared war on them made-up aliens, she'd lost
+more and more of her people.  No matter how much proof she had, no
+matter how much talking she did, they slowly stopped listening to her.
+The government poisoned their minds.  They saw all the media stuff as
+proof.  Slowly they started to believe that the aliens was real, that
+they was coming back.
 
- "When I saw Jack I was sure he'd go for the conch. Can't think why."
+It don't matter what's goin 'on with our government, Jake'd said to her
+that last day.  He'd been her last soldier, the one she'd thought she
+could count on, her rock when her husband Dale didn't come back from
+California.  Right now, we got to ignore what's going on here because
+them aliens'll be back.
 
- The group of boys looked at the white shell with affectionate respect. Piggy placed it in Ralph's hand and the littluns, seeing the familiar symbol, started to come back.
+They ain't no aliens, she'd said.
 
- "Not here."
+He'd looked at her sad like  They is, Vivian, he'd said.  And right
+now, it's our planet that we gotta defend.  When the aliens is gone, we'll
+go after the government.  But not till then.  Can't you see that?
 
- He turned toward the platform, feeling the need for ritual. First went Ralph, the white conch cradled, then Piggy very grave, then the twins, then the littluns and the others.
+She tried to see what they all saw.  But it was lies.  All lies.  So
+clear that she wondered why she was the only one that saw it.  She'd
+removed the log from her own eye, but she couldn't seem to get the mote
+from her neighbor's, even though the Bible promised she could.  She was
+righteous, and sometimes the righteous had to stand alone.
 
- "Sit down all of you. They raided us for fire. They're having fun. But the--"
+Above her the Capitol dome towered into the sky, a symbol of all the
+lies.  All the murdering lies.
 
- Ralph was puzzled by the shutter that flickered in his brain. There was something he wanted to say; then the shutter had come down.
+The death would just continue if truth didn't break through.
 
- "But the--"
+She had left messages, long letters and tapes, telling everyone the
+truth.
 
- They were regarding him gravely, not yet troubled by any doubts about his sufficiency. Ralph pushed the idiot hair out of his eyes and looked at Piggy.
+The truth would set them free.  She just had to shock them into seeing
+it.
 
- "But the . . . oh . . . the fire! Of course, the fire!"
+Her death, her strike against the very heart of the government, would
+rally those who'd strayed.  They'd use her death to keep the fight
+going until the truth prevailed.
 
- He started to laugh, then stopped and became fluent instead.
+Her hands were shaking as she eased them into the pockets of the
+raincoat.  In the left pocket was a picture of her daughter and her
+grandchildren.  It was the only picture Vivian had of all of them.
 
- "The fire's the most important thing. Without the fire we can't be rescued. I'd like to put on war-paint and be a savage. But we must keep the fire burning. The fire's the most important thing on the island, because, because--"
+She pulled it out and stared at it.  With her right hand she grasped
+the trigger to the explosives.  There was enough to blow a two-story
+hole in the side of the Capitol.  And she would never feel a thing.
 
- He paused again and the silence became full of doubt and wonder.
+By the time the first siren wailed, she'd be in heaven, holding her
+grand babies and hugging her little girl.
 
- Piggy whispered urgently. "Rescue."
+With one more look at their picture, she turned and moved directly to
+the security checkpoint leading into the building.
 
- "Oh yes. Without the fire we can't be rescued. So we must stay by the fire and make smoke."
+The man in uniform smiled at her.
 
- When he stopped no one said anything. After the many brilliant speeches that had been made on this very spot Ralph's remarks seemed lame, even to the littluns.
+She smiled back--and pushed the trigger in her pocket.
 
- At last Bill held out his hands for the conch.
+August 12, 2018
 
- "Now we can't have the fire up there--because we can't have the fire up there--we need more people to keep it going. Let's go to this feast and tell them the fire's hard on the rest of us. And the hunting and all that, being savages I mean--it must be jolly good fun."
+1:01 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- Samneric took the conch.
+94 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "That must be fun like Bill says--and as he's invited us--"
+Leo Cross sat in the hard lab chair, General Maddox beside him.  It
+felt strange to see the general, in her uniform with her perfect
+posture, sitting in Portia Groopman's lab at Nan Tech The stuffed
+animals, the scattered equipment, the expensive machinery, combined
+with General Maddox's presence, made this seem like they were three
+adults sitting in the bedroom of an incredibly rich, incredibly spoiled
+teenage girl.
 
- "--to a feast--"
+Albeit one who had amazing talents.
 
- "--meat--"
+Portia, her eyes bearing the same shadows as everyone else's, no longer
+looked so young.  There were strain lines around her mouth, and an
+older look on her face.
 
- "--crackling--"
+Edwin Bradshaw--who had been trying to make certain that in addition
+to all the work she did, she got sleep and food--was standing toward
+the back of the room, arms crossed.  Jeremy Lantine and Yukio Brown
+stood beside him, mimicking his posture.  Both of them seemed somewhat
+nervous, even more so when they saw General Maddox.
 
- "--I could do with some meat--"
+The general was here on Cross's invitation.  Portia had said she had
+found a way to stop the alien nanoharvesters, and Cross wanted to make
+sure the government knew about it.  He didn't want to invite any of the
+science advisers.  He felt that, if Portia was right, this would fall
+under the purview of the military.  No one was better for the job than
+General Maddox.
 
- Ralph held up his hand.
+After all, she was the one who had helped Cross get the harvesters to
+Nan Tech in the first place--through such a circuitous route.
 
- "Why shouldn't we get our own meat?"
+The entire group was staring at the screen in front of them.  On it,
+several alien nanoharvesters, blown up to one hundred times life-sized,
+were being attacked by the nanomachines Portia had designed.  She had
+shown her five guests several different experiments.  The first with
+one nanoharvester and one nanorescuer, as Portia was calling them.  The
+nanorescuer had scuttled across the screen and landed on top of the
+nanoharvester.  Then she had shown the same experiment with two, and so
+on, but these experiments were controlled.  Each nanoharvester was
+lined up with a nanorescuer.  Then she had run a series of experiments
+showing the harvesters already dissolving bits of grain.  The
+nanorescuers still shut down the harvesters.
 
- The twins looked at each other. Bill answered.
+Those experiments were impressive, but this last one was the important
+one.
 
- "We don't want to go in the jungle."
+In it, she had placed a bunch of nanoharvesters on her slide and now
+had just finished putting an uncounted number of nanorescuers beside
+them in a large group.
 
- Ralph grimaced.
+Then she leaned back to watch.
 
- "He--you know--goes."
+The nanorescuers separated from their pack and each went toward a
+different nanoharvester.  When they reached the harvesters, the
+rescuers attacked one by getting on top of it and shutting it down.
 
- "He's a hunter. They're all hunters. That's different."
+When Bradshaw had first described this to Cross, he had said it had
+reminded him of insect sex, and now Cross agreed.  But he wished that
+Bradshaw hadn't put that image in his head.
 
- No one spoke for a moment, then Piggy muttered to the sand.
+There were fewer rescuers than harvesters though, and once the
+individual rescuers had "killed" their harvester, they didn't move on.
+The other harvesters were untouched, and presumably remained alive.
 
- "Meat--"
+Portia shut off the monitor.  "And there you have it," she said.  "The
+strengths and weaknesses of the nanorescuers."
 
- The littluns sat, solemnly thinking of meat, and dribbling. Overhead the cannon boomed again and the dry palm fronds clattered in a sudden gust of hot wind.
+Maddox leaned forward.  "This is quite impressive," she said, and
+Portia smiled.  "I never thought we'd be able to neutralize those
+things."
 
- 
+"And neutralize them once they're activated," Cross said.  "You're
+amazing, Portia."
 
- "You are a silly little boy," said the Lord of the Flies, "just an ignorant, silly little boy."
+"Don't compliment her too much," Lantine said, "she might expect a
+raise."
 
- Simon moved his swollen tongue but said nothing.
+"For this," Maddox said, "she should own the company.  If our first
+method of attacking those aliens fails, then this one will certainly
+save us all.  Congratulations, Ms.  Groopman."
 
- "Don't you agree?" said the Lord of the Flies. "Aren't you just a silly little boy?"
+Portia was grinning like Cross had never seen her do.  She seemed to
+enjoy the compliment from Maddox more than from anyone else.
 
- Simon answered him in the same silent voice.
+"You did see the problem, though," Portia said.
 
- "Well then," said the Lord of the Flies, "you'd better run off and play with the others. They think you're batty. You don't want Ralph to think you're batty, do you? You like Ralph a lot, don't you? And Piggy, and Jack?"
+Maddox nodded.  "I am less concerned about it than I probably should
+be.  I'm still stunned that you've found a way to stop these hideous
+things."
 
- Simon's head was tilted slightly up. His eyes could not break away and the Lord of the Flies hung in space before him.
+"Obviously," Cross said, "we're going to have one rescuer for each
+harvester.  What kind of money are we talking about here?"
 
- "What are you doing out here all alone? Aren't you afraid of me?"
+"Money isn't the issue so much as time is," Brown said.
 
- Simon shook.
+"And resources," said Lantine."Resources?"  Maddox asked.  "We're
+talking about things a fraction the size of a flea.  How much resources
+can it take?"
 
- "There isn't anyone to help you. Only me. And I'm the Beast."
+"It's not size that matters, General," Cross said.  "It's our ability
+to make enough.  Am I right, Portia?"
 
- Simon's mouth labored, brought forth audible words.
+She nodded.  "There's a few labs in this country that have the
+capability of building these things.  A few more in Britain, some in
+France and Germany and Japan.  I'm not sure about the other countries.
+Even though nanotechnology has come into its own in the last few years,
+we haven't been mass producing much of anything.  It's not like we can
+take someone off the street and have him assemble pieces of a
+nanorescuer.  It takes some specialized skills."
 
- "Pig's head on a stick."
+"Oh," Maddox said.
 
- "Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill!" said the head. For a moment or two the forest and all the other dimly appreciated places echoed with the parody of laughter. "You knew, didn't you? I'm part of you? Close, close, close! I'm the reason why it's no go? Why things are what they are?"
+"However," Bradshaw said.  "I have some ideas."
 
- The laughter shivered again.
+Maddox turned to him.
 
- "Come now," said the Lord of the Flies. "Get back to the others and we'll forget the whole thing."
+"Science schools like MIT and Cal Tech have entire nanotechnology
+divisions.  They have post doc students whom we can hire, and other
+students whom we can train."
 
- Simon's head wobbled. His eyes were half closed as though he were imitating the obscene thing on the stick. He knew that one of his times was coming on. The Lord of the Flies was expanding like a balloon.
+"There are many universities with some excellent nanotechnology
+researchers," Brown said.  "We just have to grab them and their best
+students now."
 
- "This is ridiculous. You know perfectly well you'll only meet me down there--so don't try to escape!"
+"And then do this worldwide," Portia said.  "We need each country to
+have enough of these things so that they're prepared."
 
- Simon's body was arched and stiff. The Lord of the Flies spoke in the voice of a schoolmaster.
+Maddox nodded.  "That's the real problem, isn't it?"  she said.  "We
+have no idea what is enough."
 
- "This has gone quite far enough. My poor, misguided child, do you think you know better than I do?"
+"Well, actually," Bradshaw said, "we can get a fairly good estimate if
+we do some basic math."
 
- There was a pause.
+"If they attack in the same numbers as before."  Portia looked at
+Bradshaw and Cross had the sense this was the continuation of another
+discussion from long ago.  "If they attack in larger numbers, we're in
+trouble."
 
- "I'm warning you. I'm going to get angry. D'you see? You're not wanted. Understand? We are going to have fun on this island. Understand? We are going to have fun on this island! So don't try it on, my poor misguided boy, or else--"
+Cross studied the now empty monitor.  He was remembering the black
+dust, the videos of the blackness falling from the sky, the people
+screaming" We have one more problem," he said.  "We have to be able to
+launch these rescuers before the harvesters do much damage."
 
- Simon found he was looking into a vast mouth. There was blackness within, a blackness that spread.
+"That does present a problem," Maddox said.
 
- "--Or else," said the Lord of the Flies, "we shall do you? See? Jack and Roger and Maurice and Robert and Bill and Piggy and Ralph. Do you. See?"
+"No," Brown said.  "Launching won't help us at all.  These
+nanoharvesters destroy too much too fast."
 
- Simon was inside the mouth. He fell down and lost consciousness.
+Cross was afraid of that.  He felt all the muscles in his shoulder
+tighten.  They hadn't created something that was too little too late,
+had they?
 
- 
+"So what do we do?"  Maddox asked.
 
- 
+"We dust."  Portia spoke quietly.
 
- CHAPTER NINE A View to a Death
+Maddox looked at her with a perplexed expression.  "Dust?"
 
- 
+"You know, like crop dusting.  We spray the areas we think will be
+affected with the rescuers.  We give people rescuers to carry on
+themselves, and then we hope we're right."
 
- Over the island the build-up of clouds continued. A steady current of heated air rose all day from the mountain and was thrust to ten thousand feet; revolving masses of gas piled up the static until the air was ready to explode. By early evening the sun had gone and a brassy glare had taken the place of clear daylight. Even the air that pushed in from the sea was hot and held no refreshment. Colors drained from water and trees and pink surfaces of rock, and the white and brown clouds brooded. Nothing prospered but the flies who blackened their lord and made the spilt guts look like a heap of glistening coal. Even when the vessel broke in Simon's nose and the blood gushed out they left him alone, preferring the pig's high flavor.
+"My God, Ms.  Groopman," Maddox said.  "Do you know what kind of scale
+you're suggesting?"
 
- With the running of the blood Simon's fit passed into the weariness of sleep. He lay in the mat of creepers while the evening advanced and the cannon continued to play. At last he woke and saw dimly the dark earth close by his cheek. Still he did not move but lay there, his face sideways on the earth, his eyes looking dully before him. Then he turned over, drew his feet under him and laid hold of the creepers to pull himself up. When the creepers shook the flies exploded from the guts with a vicious note and clamped back on again. Simon got to his feet. The light was unearthly. The Lord of the Flies hung on his stick like a black ball.
+Portia smiled.  "I know it's a much grander scale than I usually work
+on," she said, "but, yes, General Maddox, I do."
 
- Simon spoke aloud to the clearing.
+Cross leaned back.  One step forward and two steps back.  If resources
+had been a problem before, they were a disaster now.  There was no way
+he could see anyone manufacturing close to enough rescuers by the time
+the tenth planet returned.
 
- "What else is there to do?"
+If the aliens were still alive.
 
- Nothing replied. Simon turned away from the open space and crawled through the creepers till he was in the dusk of the forest. He walked drearily between the trunks, his face empty of expression, and the blood was dry round his mouth and chin. Only sometimes as he lifted the ropes of creeper aside and chose his direction from the trend of the land, he mouthed words that did not reach the air.
+But there were still four days before the missiles were scheduled to
+hit the tenth planet.
 
- Presently the creepers festooned the trees less frequently and there was a scatter of pearly light from the sky down through the trees. This was the backbone of the island, the slightly higher land that lay beneath the mountain where the forest was no longer deep jungle. Here there were wide spaces interspersed with thickets and huge trees and the trend of the ground led him up as the forest opened. He pushed on, staggering sometimes with his weariness but never stopping. The usual brightness was gone from his eyes and he walked with a sort of glum determination like an old man.
+"I hope those nukes work," Maddox said.  "Because the amount of work
+this plan will take is something I'm having trouble imagining."
 
- A buffet of wind made him stagger and he saw that he was out in the open, on rock, under a brassy sky. He found his legs were weak and his tongue gave him pain all the time. When the wind reached the mountain-top he could see something happen, a flicker of blue stuff against brown clouds. He pushed himself forward and the wind came again, stronger now, cuffing the forest heads till they ducked and roared. Simon saw a humped thing suddenly sit up on the top and look down at him. He hid his face, and toiled on.
+"We can do it," Bradshaw said.
 
- The flies had found the figure too. The life-like movement would scare them off for a moment so that they made a dark cloud round the head. Then as the blue material of the parachute collapsed the corpulent figure would bow forward, sighing, and the flies settle once more.
+Maddox turned toward him.  "I appreciate optimism, Dr.  Bradshaw, as
+long as it's well founded."
 
- Simon felt his knees smack the rock. He crawled forward and soon he understood. The tangle of lines showed him the mechanics of this parody; he examined the white nasal bones, the teeth, the colors of corruption. He saw how pitilessly the layers of rubber and canvas held together the poor body that should be rotting away. Then the wind blew again and the figure lifted, bowed, and breathed foully at him. Simon knelt on all fours and was sick till his stomach was empty. Then he took the lines in his hands; he freed them from the rocks and the figure from the wind's indignity.
+"I think it is," Bradshaw said.  "We just have to take things one step
+at a time."
 
- At last he turned away and looked down at the beaches. The fire by the platform appeared to be out, or at least making no smoke. Further along the beach, beyond the little river and near a great slab of rock, a thin trickle of smoke was climbing into the sky. Simon, forgetful of the flies, shaded his eyes with both hands and peered at the smoke. Even at that distance it was possible to see that most of the boys--perhaps all of the boys--were there. So they had shifted camp then, away from the beast. As Simon thought this, he turned to the poor broken thing that sat stinking by his side. The beast was harmless and horrible; and the news must reach the others as soon as possible. He started down the mountain and his legs gave beneath him. Even with great care the best he could do was a stagger.
+At that moment a young-looking man with blond hair came running into
+the room.  He flicked on a television sitting on a table against the
+back wall, then turned to them, his face red, his eyes wide.  "I think
+you're going to want to see this."
 
- 
+On the screen was a scene Cross had hoped he would never live to see.
+Smoke was pouring out of a huge hole in the side of the Capitol
+Building.  Under the picture were the words Capitol Bombed.
 
- "Bathing," said Ralph, "that's the only thing to do." Piggy was inspecting the looming-sky through his glass. "I don't like them clouds. Remember how it rained just after we landed?"
+As if fighting the aliens wasn't enough, they still had to fight each
+other.
 
- "Going to rain again."
+August 12, 2018 14:32 Universal Time
 
- Ralph dived into the pool. A couple of littluns were playing at the edge, trying to extract comfort from a wetness warmer than blood. Piggy took off his glasses, stepped primly into the water and then put them on again. Ralph came to the surface and squirted a jet of water at him.
+90 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Mind my specs," said Piggy. "If I get water on the glass I got to get out and clean 'em."
+The warship worked better than Cicoi could have imagined.  He stood at
+his command post, his upper tentacles resting on the controls, his
+lower tentacles wrapped around the circle, and his eye stalks extended.
+He had practiced enough that he did not get dizzy despite the long
+amounts of time he had to stand in this position.
 
- Ralph squirted again and missed. He laughed at Piggy, expecting him to retire meekly as usual and in pained silence. Instead, Piggy beat the water with his hands.
+His staff was scattered along its various positions, some of them
+clinging uncomfortably to their posts.  Those members he had to make a
+note of because they had not trained as he had requested.  He would not
+be able to use them in the upcoming missions to the third planet.
 
- "Stop it!" he shouted. "D'you hear?"
+"Commander," his Second said.  "We are approaching the first
+cylinder."
 
- Furiously he drove the water into Ralph's face.
+Cicoi waved a single tentacle, initiating visuals.  He saw tentacles
+rise and fall in surprise all around the command center.  The images of
+space surrounded them, except for an ugly projectile heading in their
+direction.
 
- "All right, all right," said Ralph. "Keep your hair on."
+"Can we tell what it is?"  he asked.  "It is not a probe," his Second
+said.  "It has many functions, but there is a concentration of
+materials in the tip that seem--"
 
- Piggy stopped beating the water.
+"Forgive me, Commander," said his Third, "but the materials when
+combined could explode."
 
- "I got a pain in my head. I wish the air was cooler."
+"Explode?"  Cicoi felt himself float slightly.  He tightened his grip
+on the circle.  So the Elder had been right.  This was a weapon.
+"Harvest the energy from this cylinder, and instruct the other ships to
+do the same.  Then send a message to the fleets led by the Center and
+North informing them of this."
 
- "I wish the rain would come."
+"We will expend more energy in the message," his Tenth warned, "than we
+will receive from the cylinder."
 
- "I wish we could go home."
+"I know," Cicoi said.
 
- Piggy lay back against the sloping sand side of the pool. His stomach protruded and the water dried on it. Ralph squinted up at the sky. One could guess at the movement of the sun by the progress of a light patch among the clouds. He knelt in the water and looked round.
+He watched as his staff performed their functions.  His Second stopped
+suddenly, his upper tentacles tangling.
 
- "Where's everybody?"
+Cicoi felt his own upper tentacles rise slightly.  He forced them back
+down.  "What is it, Second?"
 
- Piggy sat up.
+"I am getting readings that indicate many more cylinders," his Second
+said.
 
- "P'raps they're lying in the shelter."
+"How many more?"
 
- "Where's Samneric?"
+"At least eighty in this first group.  Some had simply arrived in
+advance of the others," his Second said.
 
- "And Bill?"
+"First group?"  Cicoi did not like the sound of that.
 
- Piggy pointed beyond the platform.
+"I am getting shadows, readings from at least two more groups," his
+Second said.  "They are larger than this first group.  And very close
+behind."
 
- "That's where they've gone. Jack's party."
+"Larger?"  Cicoi knew he shouldn't repeat, knew it made him sound
+powerless, but he had not expected this.
 
- "Let them go," said Ralph, uneasily, "I don't care."
+The Elder had, though.
 
- "Just for some meat--"
+"And you believe them all to be weapons?"  Cicoi asked.
 
- "And for hunting," said Ralph, wisely, "and for pretending to be a tribe, and putting on war-paint."
+"I am confirming this now," his Ninth said.  "I have run the materials
+and the speculations about them.  The weapon inside is crude, but
+extremely powerful.  If all of those weapons hit Malmur, we will lose
+everything."
 
- Piggy stirred the sand under water and did not look at Ralph.
+Cicoi nearly lost his grip on the circle.  How could these creatures
+have gone from such a primitive place to having the ability to destroy
+Malmur in the time it took to do one Pass?
 
- "P'raps we ought to go too."
+"Send this information to the fleets of the North and Center.  Have the
+Command on Malmur launch our harvester ships.  We must absorb energy
+from these cylinders," Cicoi said.
 
- Ralph looked at him quickly and Piggy blushed.
+"Some of the energy in these cylinders is dormant," said the Eighth.
+"Many of the cylinders have been propelled here, and are approaching us
+with momentum only."
 
- "I mean--to make sure nothing happens."
+"Surely the weapons have energy signatures," Cicoi said.
 
- Ralph squirted water again.
+"Not enough for us to use," said the Eighth.
 
- 
+"We can absorb some of the energy, Commander," his Second said, "but
+not all of it.  We do not have enough ships."
 
- Long before Ralph and Piggy came up with Jack's lot, they could hear the party. There was a stretch of grass in a place where the palms left a wide band of turf between the forest and the shore. Just one step down from the edge of the turf was the white, blown sand of above high water, warm, dry, trodden. Below that again was a rock that stretched away toward the lagoon. Beyond was a short stretch of sand and then the edge of the water. A fire burned on the rock and fat dripped from the roasting pigmeat into the invisible flames. All the boys of the island, except Piggy, Ralph, Simon, and the two tending the pig, were grouped on the turf. They were laughing, singing, lying, squatting, or standing on the grass, holding food in their hands. But to judge by the greasy faces, the meat eating was almost done; and some held coconut shells in their hands and were drinking from them. Before the party had started a great log had been dragged into the center of the lawn and Jack, painted and garlanded, sat there like an idol. There were piles of meat on green leaves near him, and fruit, and coconut shells full of drink.
+"Then we must divert," Cicoi said.  He pressed the controls with the
+tips of his tentacles and saw what was causing his staff to pocket
+their eye stalks  Even with all the harvester ships deployed, even with
+the fleets of new warships, they did not have enough power to attack
+all of the cylinders.
 
- Piggy and Ralph came to the edge of the grassy platform; and the boys, as they noticed them, fell silent one by one till only the boy next to Jack was talking. Then the silence intruded even there and Jack turned where he sat. For a time he looked at them and the crackle of the fire was the loudest noise over the droning of the reef. Ralph looked away; and Sam, thinking that Ralph had turned to him accusingly, put down his gnawed bone with a nervous giggle. Ralph took an uncertain step, pointed to a palm tree, and whispered something inaudible to Piggy; and they both giggled like Sam. Lifting his feet high out of the sand, Ralph started to stroll past. Piggy tried to whistle.
+Some would get through.
 
- At this moment the boys who were cooking at the fire suddenly hauled off a great chunk of meat and ran with it toward the grass. They bumped Piggy, who was burnt, and yelled and danced. Immediately, Ralph and the crowd of boys were united and relieved by a storm of laughter. Piggy once more was the center of social derision so that everyone felt cheerful and normal.
+He felt his own eye stalks wilt, but it took all of his composure to
+make certain that he did not pocket them.  He had to think.
 
- Jack stood up and waved his spear.
+He straightened his eye stalks and pointed one at his Second.  "I want
+you, and the Third through Fifth, to see which of these cylinders have
+the smallest weapons.  Those we will not pursue.  The others we will
+handle as best we can."
 
- "Take them some meat."
+They raised a single eyestalk in response.
 
- The boys with the spit gave Ralph and Piggy each a succulent chunk. They took the gift, dribbling. So they stood and ate beneath a sky of thunderous brass that rang with the storm-coming.
+"Remember," he said, "make your measurements accurate.  The ones we
+ignore are the ones that will hit our homes."
 
- Jack waved his spear again.
+His voice shook at that last.  He wished the Elder had come with him,
+but the Elder had not.  The Elder had said it was up to Cicoi to greet
+this threat.
 
- "Has everybody eaten as much as they want?"
+But, as had been the case with the third planet, the threat was greater
+than expected.
 
- There was still food left, sizzling on the wooden spits, heaped on the green platters. Betrayed by his stomach, Piggy threw a picked bone down on the beach and stooped for more.
+And, Cicoi worried that no matter what he did, the threat would
+destroy them.
 
- Jack spoke again, impatiently.
+August 16,2018
 
- "Has everybody eaten as much as they want?"
+7:32 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- His tone conveyed a warning, given out of the pride of ownership, and the boys ate faster while there was still time. Seeing there was no immediate likelihood of a pause, Jack rose from the log that was his throne and sauntered to the edge of the grass. He looked down from behind his paint at Ralph and Piggy. They moved a little farther off over the sand and Ralph watched the fire as he ate. He noticed, without understanding, how the flames were visible now against the dull light. Evening was come, not with calm beauty but with the threat of violence.
+86 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- Jack spoke.
+The lab was full.  Scientists, guests, dignitaries, and of course, the
+actual researchers who belonged there.  For the first time, Cross felt
+like one of the gang.  He at least got nods of recognition from the
+researchers who seemed to view everyone else with suspicion.
 
- "Give me a drink."
+Britt was at one of the control stations.  She was working on several
+things at once, and Cross knew better than to ask what they were.  He
+was staring at the large monitors scattered around the room, the flat
+screens holding the key to the future.
 
- Henry brought him a shell and he drank, watching Piggy and Ralph over the jagged rim. Power lay in the brown swell of his forearms: authority sat on his shoulder and chattered in his ear like an ape.
+Today was the day.  The papers and newscasts for the last few days had
+alternated between images of the bombing at the Capitol Building and
+the attack coming on the tenth planet.  The attack on the Capitol had
+been put down to one lone extremist who thought the aliens were fake
+and the government had killed her kids in California.  At the moment
+Cross wished the aliens were fake.  Or that he would just wake up from
+this nightmare.  But neither seemed to be the case.
 
- "All sit down."
+He kept staring at the screens.
 
- The boys ranged themselves in rows on the grass before him but Ralph and Piggy stayed a foot lower, standing on the soft sand. Jack ignored them for the moment, turned his mask down to the seated boys and pointed at them with the spear.
+The images coming back from the tenth planet were somewhat strange.
+Cross thought he caught glimpses of black alien ships in space, and so
+did several of the researchers, but it was tough to confirm.  They were
+almost impossible to see, and the readouts that the lab was getting
+from the missiles gave conflicting information.
 
- "Who's going to join my tribe?"
+Two of the six monitoring missiles had gone dead in the last hour,
+which Cross saw as confirmation that the aliens were out there in space
+trying to stop Earth's attack.
 
- Ralph made a sudden movement that became a stumble. Some of the boys turned toward him.
+He didn't like that.
 
- "I gave you food," said Jack, "and my hunters will protect you from the beast. Who will join my tribe?"
+But it was expected.  It was the reason so many missiles had been sent,
+why some were to explode on impact, with no energy source onboard for
+the aliens to drain.  The aliens trying to stop the attack had been
+expected.  Cross just had to remember that.
 
- "I'm chief," said Ralph, "because you chose me. And we were going to keep the fire going. Now you run after food--"
+His stomach was jumping, and it wasn't from the four cups of coffee
+he'd had since he arrived.
 
- "You ran yourself!" shouted Jack. "Look at that bone in your hands!"
+This time, when Britt had gotten the expected middle-of the-night call,
+he had come with her.
 
- Ralph went crimson.
+Cross had answered.  He'd been lying there, unable to sleep, as he had
+for the past two nights.
 
- "I said you were hunters. That was your job."
+Everything rested on those missiles.
 
- Jack ignored him again.
+Everything.
 
- "Who'll join my tribe and have fun?"
+For the first time, when he said the fate of the world was in balance,
+he meant it.  If the missiles didn't strike, didn't wipe the aliens
+out, Earth's chances of survival were poor, even with Portia's
+rescuers.
 
- "I'm chief," said Ralph tremulously. "And what about the fire? And I've got the conch--"
+Now a number of the monitoring missiles had gone dead, and there were
+alien ships out there.
 
- "You haven't got it with you," said Jack, sneering. "You left it behind. See, clever? And the conch doesn't count at this end of the island--"
+It was expected, he knew.  He kept reminding himself, yet he was
+getting a horrible feeling that all this waiting, all this planning,
+had been for nothing.
 
- All at once the thunder struck. Instead of the dull boom there was a point of impact in the explosion.
+Then, on the screen before him, a blinding flash.
 
- "The conch counts here too," said Ralph, "and all over the island."
+The screen seemed to go white.
 
- "What are you going to do about it then?"
+The entire lab lit up with the intense light from the screens.
 
- Ralph examined the ranks of boys. There was no help in them and he looked away, confused and sweating. Piggy whispered.
+The tenth planet showed up for a moment in relief, like a shiny black
+surface catching the reflection of a flashbulb.
 
- "The fire--rescue."
+That image was frozen in his mind.
 
- "Who'll join my tribe?"
+Black screens covering the entire planet, and one explosion ripping a
+massive hole in those screens.
 
- "I will."
+"Oh, my God," someone said.  "Was that--?"  someone else asked.
 
- "Me."
+Then there was another flash.
 
- "I will."
+This time the second flash lit up the glowing mushroom cloud of the
+first before the planet disappeared into blackness again.
 
- "I'll blow the conch," said Ralph breathlessly, "and call an assembly."
+And then another flash as a third atomic blast hit the tenth planet.
 
- "We shan't hear it."
+And then another.
 
- Piggy touched Ralph's wrist.
+So much light was coming from such a far distance away that Cross had
+to shade his eyes from the screens.
 
- "Come away. There's going to be trouble. And we've had our meat."
+"We're doing it," Britt said.  Then she shouted it.  "We're doing
+it!"
 
- There was a blink of bright light beyond the forest and the thunder exploded again so that a littlun started to whine. Big drops of rain fell among them making individual sounds when they struck.
+Two more bombs exploded.
 
- "Going to be a storm," said Ralph, "and you'll have rain like when we dropped here. Who's clever now? Where are your shelters? What are you going to do about that?"
+Cross watched.
 
- The hunters were looking uneasily at the sky, flinching from the stroke of the drops. A wave of restlessness set the boys swaying and moving aimlessly. The flickering light became brighter and the blows of the thunder were only just bearable. The littluns began to run about, screaming.
+Stunned.
 
- Jack leapt on to the sand.
+He'd never seen nuclear bombs go off in real time.
 
- "Do our dance! Come on! Dance!"
+His reaction was mixed.  Stunned shock, and a weird elation.  He hadn't
+thought it possible.
 
- He ran stumbling through the thick sand to the open space of rock beyond the fire. Between the flashes of lightning the air was dark and terrible; and the boys followed him, clamorously. Roger became the pig, grunting and charging at Jack, who side-stepped. The hunters took their spears, the cooks took spits, and the rest clubs of firewood. A circling movement developed and a chant. While Roger mimed the terror of the pig, the littluns ran and jumped on the outside of the circle. Piggy and Ralph, under the threat of the sky, found themselves eager to take a place in this demented but partly secure society. They were glad to touch the brown backs of the fence that hemmed in the terror and made it governable.
+He had thought they would fail.
 
- "_Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!_"
+No, he had believed they would fail.
 
- The movement became regular while the chant lost its first superficial excitement and began to beat like a steady pulse. Roger ceased to be a pig and became a hunter, so that the center of the ring yawned emptily. Some of the littluns started a ring on their own; and the complementary circles went round and round as though repetition would achieve safety of itself. There was the throb and stamp of a single organism.
+Three more dashes, and then, abruptly, the pictures got cut off.
 
- The dark sky was shattered by a blue-white scar. An instant later the noise was on them like the blow of a gigantic whip. The chant rose a tone in agony.
+There was a moment of silence.
 
- "_Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!_"
+People continued to stare at the dead screens.
 
- Now out of the terror rose another desire, thick, urgent, blind.
+Researchers pushed buttons on their monitors.  Britt checked to see if
+the satellite relays were working.  They apparently were, for when she
+turned around, a grin was on her face.
 
- "_Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!_"
+"We did it," she said again.
 
- Again the blue-white scar jagged above them and the sulphurous explosion beat down. The littluns screamed and blundered about, fleeing from the edge of the forest, and one of them broke the ring of biguns in his terror.
+And a cheer went up, the loudest cheer Cross had ever heard.
 
- "Him! Him!"
+It took him a moment to realize his own voice was in the mix, raspy and
+joyful and full of relief.
 
- The circle became a horseshoe. A thing was crawling out of the forest. It came darkly, uncertainly. The shrill screaming that rose before the beast was like a pain. The beast stumbled into the horseshoe.
+They had done it.
 
- "_Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!_"
+They.
 
- The blue-white scar was constant, the noise unendurable. Simon was crying out something about a dead man on a hill.
+Had.
 
- "_Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood! Do him in!_"
+Done.
 
- The sticks fell and the mouth of the new circle crunched and screamed. The beast was on its knees in the center, its arms folded over its face. It was crying out against the abominable noise something about a body on the hill. The beast struggled forward, broke the ring and fell over the steep edge of the rock to the sand by the water. At once the crowd surged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on to the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore. There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.
+It.
 
- Then the clouds opened and let down the rain like a waterfall. The water bounded from the mountain-top, tore leaves and branches from the trees, poured like a cold shower over the struggling heap on the sand. Presently the heap broke up and figures staggered away. Only the beast lay still, a few yards from the sea. Even in the rain they could see how small a beast it was; and already its blood was staining the sand.
+They had attacked the tenth planet.
 
- Now a great wind blew the rain sideways, cascading the water from the forest trees. On the mountain-top the parachute filled and moved; the figure slid, rose to its feet, spun, swayed down through a vastness of wet air and trod with ungainly feet the tops of the high trees; falling, still falling, it sank toward the beach and the boys rushed screaming into the darkness. The parachute took the figure forward, furrowing the lagoon, and bumped it over the reef and out to sea.
+They had fought the aliens in a second battle.
 
- 
+And this time, Earth won.
 
- Towardmidnight the rain ceased and the clouds drifted away, so that the sky was scattered once more with the incredible lamps of stars. Then the breeze died too and there was no noise save the drip and trickle of water that ran out of clefts and spilled down, leaf by leaf, to the brown earth of the island. The air was cool, moist, and clear; and presently even the sound of the water was still. The beast lay huddled on the pale beach and the stains spread, inch by inch.
+11
 
- The edge of the lagoon became a streak of phosphorescence which advanced minutely, as the great wave of the tide flowed. The clear water mirrored the clear sky and the angular bright constellations. The line of phosphorescence bulged about the sand grains and little pebbles; it held them each in a dimple of tension, then suddenly accepted them with an inaudible syllable and moved on.
+August 16, 2018 17:42 Universal Time
 
- Along the shoreward edge of the shallows the advancing clearness was full of strange, moonbeam-bodied creatures with fiery eyes. Here and there a larger pebble clung to its own air and was covered with a coat of pearls. The tide swelled in over the rain-pitted sand and smoothed everything with a layer of silver. Now it touched the first of the stains that seeped from the broken body and the creatures made a moving patch of light as they gathered at the edge. The water rose farther and dressed Simon's coarse hair with brightness. The line of his cheek silvered and the turn of his shoulder became sculptured marble. The strange attendant creatures, with their fiery eyes and trailing vapors, busied themselves round his head. The body lifted a fraction of an inch from the sand and a bubble of air escaped from the mouth with a wet plop. Then it turned gently in the water.
+86 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- Somewhere over the darkened curve of the world the sun and moon were pulling, and the film of water on the earth planet was held, bulging slightly on one side while the solid core turned. The great wave of the tide moved farther along the island and the water lifted. Softly, surrounded by a fringe of inquisitive bright creatures, itself a silver shape beneath the steadfast constellations, Simon's dead body moved out toward the open sea.
+Cicoi was the last to leave his warship.  He took the glide path to the
+staging area, his tentacles drooping, his eye stalks hanging near his
+torso in complete disgrace.  He should have listened to the Elder.  He
+should have listened sooner.  He should have planned for this.
 
- 
+Fifteen of the cylinders had gotten through the ships and had hit
+Malmur.
 
- 
+Fifteen.
 
- CHAPTER TEN The Shell and the Glasses
+The destruction was more than he could think of.
 
- 
+The images of those explosions sending odd-shaped clouds into the
+atmosphere were burned into his memory.
 
- Piggy eyed the advancing figure carefully. Nowadays he sometimes found that he saw more clearly if he removed his glasses and shifted the one lens to the other eye; but even through the good eye, after what had happened, Ralph remained unmistakably Ralph. He came now out of the coconut trees, limping, dirty, with dead leaves hanging from his shock of yellow hair. One eye was a slit in his puffy cheek and a great scab had formed on his right knee. He paused for a moment and peered at the figure on the platform.
+Two pods were gone.
 
- "Piggy? Are you the only one left?"
+An entire sleeping chamber, with thousands of unawakened Malmuria, had
+been vaporized.
 
- "There's some littluns."
+Eight harvest ships were destroyed and, in some ways, worst of all,
+vast areas of energy collectors had been ruined.
 
- "They don't count. No biguns?"
+And none of that counted what the radiation released by the cylinders
+might do.  It was unfamiliar to Malmur and possibly toxic.
 
- "Oh--Samneric. They're collecting wood."
+His planet was in flames.
 
- "Nobody else?"
+The black surface of his home was lit by fire for the first time in any
+memory.
 
- "Not that I know of."
+He had seen some of the fires from orbit as he returned home.
 
- Ralph climbed on to the platform carefully. The coarse grass was still worn away where the assembly used to sit; the fragile white conch still gleamed by the polished seat. Ralph sat down in the grass facing the chief's seat and the conch. Piggy knelt at his left, and for a long minute there was silence.
+In disgrace.
 
- At last Ralph cleared his throat and whispered something.
+He would offer himself to the recycler, and try to serve his people as
+best he could by converting himself to energy.
 
- Piggy whispered back.
+No.
 
- "What you say?"
+He wilted farther.
 
- Ralph spoke up.
+His Elder was here.
 
- "Simon."
+Waiting.
 
- Piggy said nothing but nodded, solemnly. They continued to sit, gazing with impaired sight at the chief's seat and the glittering lagoon. The green light and the glossy patches of sunshine played over their befouled bodies.
+We cannot lose more of our kind, particularly to a misplaced sense of
+shame.  You did listen to me.  You diverted or destroyed all but
+fifteen of their cylinders.  There were at least three hundred. Imagine
+if they had gotten through.
 
- At length Ralph got up and went to the conch. He took the shell caressingly with both hands and knelt, leaning against the trunk.
+The Elder appeared in front of him, tentacles floating.  Cicoi thought
+such a cavalier attitude at this time was almost as bad.  Thousands had
+died.  Thousands more probably would die once it became clear that the
+energy reserves were gone.
 
- "Piggy."
+As if the Elder had heard the thoughts, it said, We cannot mourn.  We
+are not done fighting yet.  Yes, we have lost thousands.  But millions
+still live.  And for their sakes, we must go to the third planet and
+take what we need.  Only then will Malmur survive.
 
- "Uh?"
+Cicoi knew that.  There was logic in it.  "But we have no way to defeat
+the creatures of the third planet," he said.
 
- "What we going to do?"
+You think they are great because they 'we attacked us?  You know
+nothing of war.  They were primitives when we first came here.  They
+are nothing compared to us.  The Elder moved closer to him, waving eye
+stalks in front of him.  They have probably used all of their weapons
+to attack us.  And they are no match for the Sulas.  We must get to the
+planet.  We must take everything we can.  And then we must never
+return.
 
- Piggy nodded at the conch.
+"But how can we do this now?"  Cicoi asked.  "We have lost Malmuria. We
+have lost ships.  We have lost recyclers, and
 
- "You could--"
+energy collectors, and storages.  We do not have time for repairs."
 
- "Call an assembly?"
+We make the time, the Elder said.  We cannot rest until we have what we
+need.  We will defeat them, and we will do it my way.
 
- Ralph laughed sharply as he said the word and Piggy frowned.
+Cicoi let his eye stalks droop even farther.  He knew that he did not
+deserve to live.  His curse was that he could not have an honorable
+death after this great defeat.
 
- "You're still chief."
+He had to live on.
 
- Ralph laughed again.
+He had to live on with the memory of those explosions ripping his world
+apart.
 
- "You are. Over us."
+He had to live on with the memory of the fires burning.
 
- "I got the conch."
+And in living on, he would do everything he could to save his
+people--and his home.
 
- "Ralph! Stop laughing like that. Look, there ain't no need, Ralph! What's the others going to think?"
+August 16,2018
 
- At last Ralph stopped. He was shivering.
+8:18 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- "Piggy."
+86 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "Uh?"
+"All that pessimism, Bernstein, and we won," Shamus O'Grady said.
 
- "That was Simon."
+Doug Mickelson eased himself away from the conversation, but not so far
+away that he couldn't hear.  They were in the Oval Office at Franklin's
+invitation, along with the other Cabinet members, the Joint Chiefs of
+Staff, a few of Franklin's closest advisers, and the First Lady.
+Despite the champagne, this gathering was not billed as a celebration.
+It was, instead, something else.  What, exactly, Franklin hadn't made
+clear yet.  "I wasn't pessimistic about the bombs," Bernstein said.  "I
+told Mickelson that.  That's why I've been talking about the domestic
+situation."
 
- "You said that before."
+Mickelson moved even farther away from the conversation.  The Capitol
+Building had been attacked.  In many ways, Bernstein had been exactly
+right, yet they had all done what they had needed to do.
 
- "Piggy."
+He glanced around.  There weren't any real conversation groups he
+wanted to join.  He heard a lot of discussion of policy, for the first
+time in months--and a lot of laughter, also for the first time in
+months.  From various groups, he heard "Ka-boom!"  as someone's hands
+rose.  The papers were running picture after picture of the atomic
+bombs exploding on the black, panel-covered surface of the alien world.
+Pictures with headlines saying we won!
 
- "Uh?"
+It had become clear to him that the moment when the missiles hit the
+tenth planet would become one of the defining moments of this
+generation.
 
- "That was murder."
+Maybe of all human history.
 
- "You stop it!" said Piggy, shrilly. "What good're you doing talking like that?"
+Franklin's approval ratings in the nation and worldwide couldn't be
+higher.  The United States suddenly was the most popular country on the
+globe for organizing and carrying out this mission.  Even though other
+governments were involved, everyone knew where the credit belonged.
 
- He jumped to his feet and stood over Ralph.
+"You're not drinking your champagne," Maddox said softly.
 
- "It was dark. There was that--that bloody dance. There was lightning and thunder and rain. We was scared!"
+He turned.  She looked both tired and relaxed.  This had been an
+incredible strain on her.  "Neither are you."
 
- "I wasn't scared," said Ralph slowly, "I was--I don't know what I was."
+She shrugged.  "I have made it a policy to never toast a successful
+bombing raid."
 
- "We was scared!" said Piggy excitedly. "Anything might have happened. It wasn't--what you said."
+He started.  He hadn't thought of it that way.  "It does seem like bad
+form, doesn't it?"
 
- He was gesticulating, searching for a formula.
+"When you think of it in those terms," she said.  "But that's really
+not why everyone's celebrating."
 
- "Oh, Piggy!"
+"We struck back," he said.
 
- Ralph's voice, low and stricken, stopped Piggy's gestures. He bent down and waited. Ralph, cradling the conch, rocked himself to and fro.
+She turned her head slightly.  "You know, you're the first person I've
+spoken to who actually understands the difference."
 
- "Don't you understand, Piggy? The things we did--"
+"Between what and what?"
 
- "He may still be--"
+"Winning a battle and winning the war.  "He set his glass down.  She
+did the same as the door from Franklin's private secretary's office
+opened. An aide came in, and handed Franklin a downloaded hard copy. 
+Franklin squinted at it, then had the aide close the door.
 
- "No."
+The room grew silent.  This, then, was what they had been waiting
+for.
 
- "P'raps he was only pretending--"
+Franklin took an extra moment, and then looked up.  He waved the paper.
+"It's a damage assessment report," he said.
 
- Piggy's voice trailed off at the sight of Ralph's face.
+Mickelson felt his shoulders stiffen.  A hard look came over Maddox's
+face.
 
- "You were outside. Outside the circle. You never really came in. Didn't you see what we--what they did?"
+"It seems," Franklin said, "that it's better than we thought.  We
+thought that if the aliens fought back--and it's now clear they had
+spaceships in the area, attempting to destroy our bombs--we'd be lucky
+if one or two hit the surface.  Fifteen-or five percent--of the
+missiles we sent up there hit and exploded on their planet."
 
- There was loathing, and at the same time a kind of feverish excitement, in his voice.
+Mickelson found himself breathing shallowly.
 
- "Didn't you see, Piggy?"
+"We've hurt them," Franklin said.  "We've hurt them badly.  Let's hope
+they'll think twice before coming to us again."
 
- "Not all that well. I only got one eye now. You ought to know that, Ralph."
+Everyone in the room cheered.
 
- Ralph continued to rock to and fro.
+Franklin raised his glass and proposed a toast.
 
- "It was an accident," said Piggy suddenly, "that's what it was. An accident." His voice shrilled again. "Coming in the dark--he hadn't no business crawling like that out of the dark. He was batty. He asked for it." He gesticulated widely again. "It was an accident."
+Mickelson grabbed his and feigned a sip, but he felt unsettled.
 
- "You didn't see what they did--"
+He made his way through the crowd, to Franklin's side.  "Mr.
+President," Mickelson said, as usual finding it uncomfortable to greet
+an old friend that way, "you know as well as I do that they will still
+come back."
 
- "Look, Ralph. We got to forget this. We can't do no good thinking about it, see?"
+Franklin nodded.
 
- "I'm frightened. Of us. I want to go home. Oh God, I want to go home."
+"Then why did you say that?"
 
- "It was an accident," said Piggy stubbornly, "and that's that."
+He turned to Mickelson.  "Because we need hope, too, Doug."
 
- He touched Ralph's bare shoulder and Ralph shuddered at the human contact.
+"Hope won't prevent the tenth planet from coming close to the Earth
+again in eighty-six days."
 
- "And look, Ralph"--Piggy glanced round quickly, then leaned close--"don't let on we was in that dance. Not to Samneric."
+"No, it won't," Franklin said.  "But it just might give us enough
+energy to fight the next battle--and win it, too."
 
- "But we were! All of us!"
+August 16,2018
 
- Piggy shook his head.
+9:51 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
 
- "Not us till last. They never noticed in the dark. Anyway you said I was only on the outside."
+86 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "So was I," muttered Ralph, "I was on the outside too."
+The sounds of celebration echoing over the city were dying down.  Leo
+Cross sat on a lawn chair in the enclosed yard of his D.C. house. Britt
+sat beside him.  They'd finished one of Constance's wonderful dinners
+and a bottle of wine, and this time, when they went to bed, Cross was
+unplugging the phone.
 
- Piggy nodded eagerly.
+The world could do without Britt Archer for one night.
 
- "That's right. We was on the outside. We never done nothing, we never seen nothing."
+"Sounds like people are getting tired of partying," she said.
 
- Piggy paused, then went on.
+"Sounds like," he said.
 
- "We'll live on our own, the four of us--"
+When the images of the bombs exploding on the tenth planet were
+broadcast all over the world, people took to the streets in joyous
+celebration.  Confetti fell, fireworks went off, there was screaming
+and shouting and general mayhem.  It reminded Cross of the pictures
+he'd seen of New York City the day that someone declared World War II
+had ended, only this time, the celebrations happened worldwide.
 
- "Four of us. We aren't enough to keep the fire burning."
+In Washington, a cheering crowd had gathered outside the White House,
+ignoring the damaged Capitol Building.  But Cross knew that the damage
+was part of this battle.  And that there was going to be more before
+the war was over.
 
- "We'll try. See? I lit it."
+"I would have thought the celebration would continue for days," Britt
+said.
 
- Samneric came dragging a great log out of the forest. They dumped it by the fire and turned to the pool. Ralph jumped to his feet.
+"People know," Cross said.  "The tenth planet still has to orbit close
+to us.  There's still a threat."
 
- "Hi! You two!"
+He looked up at the clear sky.  Stars winked against the blackness.
+Who'd've thought that something that happened so far away would affect
+them like this at home.
 
- The twins checked a moment, then walked on.
+"At least now those damn aliens know how it feels," Britt said.
 
- "They're going to bathe, Ralph."
+Cross looked at her.  She seemed fiercer than she ever had.  "They're
+just trying to survive like we're trying to survive."
 
- "Better get it over."
+"I don't give a damn about their reasons," Britt said.  "They hurt us.
+We hurt them.  Maybe they'll go away now."
 
- The twins were very surprised to see Ralph. They flushed and looked past him into the air.
+"They can't, Britt," he said.  "They need Earth's resources.  Those
+aliens are going to come back even stronger.  We didn't destroy them,
+we only hurt them, just like they hurt us.  Just like they have been
+hurting us every two thousand years."
 
- "Hullo. Fancy meeting you, Ralph."
+She sighed.  "I know you're right.  I just wish you weren't."
 
- "We just been in the forest--"
+"I wish I wasn't either."
 
- "--to get wood for the fire--"
+They both stared at the stars for a long moment.
 
- "--we got lost last night."
+"So we fight," Britt said finally.
 
- Ralph examined his toes.
+"We fight," Cross said.  "And it'll be the most important battle we'll
+ever fight.  We have no other choice.  The planet can't support both
+races."
 
- "You got lost after the . . ."
+"One of us must win," Britt said, softly.
 
- Piggy cleaned his lens.
+Cross didn't reply.  There was nothing to say.
 
- "After the feast," said Sam in a stifled voice. Eric nodded. "Yes, after the feast."
+Epilogue
 
- "We left early," said Piggy quickly, "because we were tired."
+August 17, 2018
 
- "So did we--"
+6:21 a.m. Pacific Daylight Time
 
- "--very early--"
+85 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "--we were very tired."
+Danny Elliot slipped out of the house and onto the quiet street.  All
+of the adults were still asleep.  His mother had been up forever last
+night, drinking and laughing and celebrating for the first time since
+the black dust came.  In the last few months, they had managed to put
+their lives back together, but his mother hadn't laughed.
 
- Sam touched a scratch on his forehead and then hurriedly took his hand away. Eric fingered his split lip.
+She said the aliens got what they deserved.
 
- "Yes. We were very tired," repeated Sam, "so we left early. Was it a good--"
+Finally.
 
- The air was heavy with unspoken knowledge. Sam twisted and the obscene word shot out of him. "--dance?"
+Danny watched the bombs hit the tenth planet over and over again.  The
+images made him a little sick inside, but he wasn't going to say that.
+Instead he sat, quiet, wondering if that's what the aliens saw when
+they dropped all that stuff on San Luis Obispo.
 
- Memory of the dance that none of them had attended shook all four boys convulsively.
+He adjusted his backpack and crossed the street, past the still-full
+houses and into the Zone.  The patrols didn't happen as often anymore,
+and the dust had long ago turned to a thick black mud, solid from the
+rains.  It had packed down into something like concrete, except in
+areas closest to buildings or under trees where the wind had blown
+it.
 
- "We left early."
+He knew of a couple of places like that.  Maybe he should have called
+Nikara, but he didn't.  Their friendship didn't feel the same anymore,
+not without Cort.  The three of them balanced, but when Cort died the
+day the dust fell, the balance died, too.  Nikara and Danny fought a
+lot, and there was no longer anyone to referee.
 
- 
+Danny'd said something about that to his mom, and she had looked at him
+sadly.
 
- When Roger came to the neck of land that joined the Castle Rock to the mainland he was not surprised to be challenged. He had reckoned, during the terrible night, on finding at least some of the tribe holding out against the horrors of the island in the safest place.
+"It's not the fighting," she said.  "Cort's presence will always be a
+ghost between the two of you."
 
- The voice rang out sharply from on high, where the diminishing crags were balanced one on another.
+Maybe.
 
- "Halt! Who goes there?"
+But yesterday, Cort had been avenged.
 
- "Roger."
+Atomic bombs had been dropped on the aliens.
 
- "Advance, friend."
+In all the stories Danny heard, in all the vids he saw, ghosts went to
+their final rest after they'd been avenged.  And even though he didn't
+want to lose Cort--the living, wonderful Cort--Danny didn't mind losing
+the dead one.
 
- Roger advanced.
+He wanted to get the image of Cort, lying on the couch sick with the
+flu, melting under the black dust like those people on TV had, out of
+his mind.  He needed to think about the friend he'd known, not the way
+Cort had died.
 
- "You could see who I was."
+And this morning, he'd woken up with a way to do it.
 
- "The chief said we got to challenge everyone."
+It didn't take long to reach the house that he and Nikara had climbed
+up to, that day in April.  It was easier to get to now that the
+military wasn't patrolling that much.  They weren't as afraid of the
+dust.  They knew what it was, knew that it wouldn't hurt anyone, or so
+they said.  So they didn't really guard it anymore.
 
- Roger peered up.
+The rhododendron bushes no longer had flowers.  Instead, thick green
+leaves covered them, making one side of the white house look like a
+forest.  The trellis they'd climbed a few months ago was hidden by
+climbing roses and out-of control growth.
 
- "You couldn't stop me coming if I wanted."
+He slipped past all of it, catching a bit of ocean breeze, inhaling the
+salty scent.
 
- "Couldn't I? Climb up and see."
+Cort had loved living in this part of town.  Cort would stop them
+sometimes and make them smell the ocean, or look at the way the roses
+had grown over the summer.  Cort said it didn't matter what kind of
+house you lived in, or what neighborhood you lived in, as long as you
+noticed what nature provided nearby.
 
- Roger clambered up the ladder-like cliff.
+What nature had provided here was a shelter.
 
- "Look at this."
+Danny went around the house and into the backyard, right up to the
+beginning of the black dust.  A giant rhododendron grew right on the
+edge.  It would provide what he wanted.
 
- A log had been jammed under the topmost rock and another lever under that. Robert leaned lightly on the lever and the rock groaned. A full effort would send the rock thundering down to the neck of land. Roger admired.
+The blackness looked less threatening now.  Maybe because he was used
+to it, or maybe because he knew it would never come again.  But he
+still wasn't going to walk on it.  Walking on it would be like walking
+on Cort.
 
- "He's a proper chief, isn't he?"
+Danny took off his backpack and reached inside.  He had taken ajar that
+Cort had given him last year.  It was obsidian and smooth, a magic jar,
+Cort had said.  They both didn't believe in magic anymore, but it was
+nice to pretend.
 
- Robert nodded.
+Danny'd had the jar beside his bed ever since Cort died.
 
- "He's going to take us hunting."
+Danny pulled the stopper and carefully set it on the top of his
+backpack.  Then he grabbed a ladle he'd stolen from the kitchen, and
+slowly lifted a branch on the rhododendron.  A branch on the side
+toward the destruction.
 
- He jerked his head in the direction of the distant shelters where a thread of white smoke climbed up the sky. Roger, sitting on the very edge of the cliff, looked somberly back at the island as he worked with his fingers at a loose tooth. His gaze settled on the top of the distant mountain and Robert changed the unspoken subject.
+There was real black dust underneath, blown there by the winds off the
+ocean.  Black dust and bits of other things, things that Danny'd always
+imagined were bones.
 
- "He's going to beat Wilfred."
+Ashes and bone.
 
- "What for?"
+Bits of Cort.
 
- Robert shook his head doubtfully.
+Carefully, using the ladle, Danny scooped up as much of the dust as he
+could and poured it into the jar.  It was painstaking, disgusting work,
+but it was important.
 
- "I don't know. He didn't say. He got angry and made us tie Wilfred up. He's been"--he giggled excitedly--"he's been tied for hours, waiting--"
+Too many people had died in April.  Too many went unaccounted for, and
+too many had just disappeared.  Cort's entire family--his dad, and his
+mom, and his dog--had died that day, too.  And when entire families
+went, no one bothered with a funeral.  Danny had heard that Cort's
+grandparents,
 
- "But didn't the chief say why?"
+who lived in Minnesota, had had a memorial, but that had been too far
+away.  No one in Minnesota even knew Cort.
 
- "I never heard him."
+But Danny had.  Danny and Nikara and a lot of other kids.  And it
+wasn't right that they didn't really get to say goodbye.
 
- Sitting on the tremendous rock in the torrid sun, Roger received this news as an illumination. He ceased to work at his tooth and sat still, assimilating the possibilities of irresponsible authority. Then, without another word, he climbed down the back of the rocks toward the cave and the rest of the tribe.
+Danny stoppered the jar, and then took out one other container.  He
+felt weird using his mom's Tupperware, but the guys would understand. 
+He filled it, too.
 
- The chief was sitting there, naked to the waist, his face blocked out in white and red. The tribe lay in a semicircle before him. The newly beaten and untied Wilfred was sniffing noisily in the background. Roger squatted with the rest.
+That container he would take to the ocean.  They'd have a service, and
+he'd throw Cort's ashes into the sea where Cort would want them.
 
- "Tomorrow," went on the chief, "we shall hunt again."
+But Danny was going to keep some in the jar, for remembrance.
 
- He pointed at this savage and that with his spear.
+For Cort.
 
- "Some of you will stay here to improve the cave and defend the gate. I shall take a few hunters with me and bring back meat. The defenders of the gate will see that the others don't sneak in."
+Danny finished and climbed out from under the rhododendron.  Then he
+leaned up and stared at the cloudless blue sky.  He held the jar aloft
+and, imagining that black alien planet, the one where the bombs hit, he
+said, "Yesterday was for Cort, you bastards."
 
- A savage raised his hand and the chief turned a bleak, painted face toward him.
+He wondered if, somewhere deep down, they had known that.  He imagined
+that they did.
 
- "Why should they try to sneak in, Chief?"
+He put the jar and the container in his backpack, then he stood.  For a
+moment, he stared at the blackness.
 
- The chief was vague but earnest.
+Then he turned his back on it.
 
- "They will. They'll try to spoil things we do. So the watchers at the gate must be careful. And then--"
+Forever.
 
- The chief paused. They saw a triangle of startling pink dart out, pass along his lips and vanish again.
+85 Days Until Second Harvest
 
- "--and then, the beast might try to come in. You remember how he crawled--"
+Watch for The Tenth Planet: Final Assault
 
- The semicircle shuddered and muttered in agreement.
+DEAN WESLEY SMITH was a founder of the well-respected small press
+Pulphouse.  He has written a number of novels--both his own and as
+tie-in projects- including Laying the Music to Rest and X-Men: The
+Jewels of Cyttorak.
 
- "He came--disguised. He may come again even though we gave him the head of our kill to eat. So watch; and be careful."
+KRIS TINE KATHRYN RUSCH is the Hugo and World Fantasy Award-winning
+former editor of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.  She
+turned to writing full time two years ago.  She, too, has written a
+number of original and tie-in novels, including the Fey series and Star
+Wars: The New Rebellion.
 
- Stanleylifted his forearm off the rock and held up an interrogative finger.
-
- "Well?"
-
- "But didn't we, didn't we--?"
-
- He squirmed and looked down.
-
- "No!"
-
- In the silence that followed, each savage flinched away from his individual memory.
-
- "No! How could we--kill--it?"
-
- Half-relieved, half-daunted by the implication of further terrors, the savages murmured again.
-
- "So leave the mountain alone," said the chief, solemnly, "and give it the head if you go hunting."
-
- Stanleyflicked his finger again.
-
- "I expect the beast disguised itself."
-
- "Perhaps," said the chief. A theological speculation presented itself. "We'd better keep on the right side of him, anyhow. You can't tell what he might do."
-
- The tribe considered this; and then were shaken, as if by a flow of wind. The chief saw the effect of his words and stood abruptly.
-
- "But tomorrow we'll hunt and when we've got meat we'll have a feast--"
-
- Bill put up his hand.
-
- "Chief."
-
- "Yes?"
-
- "What'll we use for lighting the fire?"
-
- The chief's blush was hidden by the white and red clay. Into his uncertain silence the tribe spilled their murmur once more. Then the chief held up his hand.
-
- "We shall take fire from the others. Listen. Tomorrow we'll hunt and get meat. Tonight I'll go along with two hunters--who'll come?"
-
- Maurice and Roger put up their hands.
-
- "Maurice--"
-
- "Yes, Chief?"
-
- "Where was their fire?"
-
- "Back at the old place by the fire rock."
-
- The chief nodded.
-
- "The rest of you can go to sleep as soon as the sun sets. But us three, Maurice, Roger and me, we've got work to do. We'll leave just before sunset--"
-
- Maurice put up his hand.
-
- "But what happens if we meet--"
-
- The chief waved his objection aside.
-
- "We'll keep along by the sands. Then if he comes we'll do our, our dance again."
-
- "Only the three of us?"
-
- Again the murmur swelled and died away.
-
- 
-
- Piggy handed Ralph his glasses and waited to receive back his sight. The wood was damp; and this was the third time they had lighted it. Ralph stood back, speaking to himself.
-
- "We don't want another night without fire."
-
- He looked round guiltily at the three boys standing by. This was the first time he had admitted the double function of the fire. Certainly one was to send up a beckoning column of smoke; but the other was to be a hearth now and a comfort until they slept. Eric breathed on the wood till it glowed and sent out a little flame. A billow of white and yellow smoke reeked up. Piggy took back his glasses and looked at the smoke with pleasure.
-
- "If only we could make a radio!"
-
- "Or a plane--"
-
- "--or a boat."
-
- Ralph dredged in his fading knowledge of the world.
-
- "We might get taken prisoner by the Reds."
-
- Eric pushed back his hair.
-
- "They'd be better than--"
-
- He would not name people and Sam finished the sentence for him by nodding along the beach.
-
- Ralph remembered the ungainly figure on a parachute.
-
- "He said something about a dead man." He flushed painfully at this admission that he had been present at the dance. He made urging motions at the smoke and with his body. "Don't stop--go on up!"
-
- "Smoke's getting thinner."
-
- "We need more wood already, even when it's wet."
-
- "My asthma--"
-
- The response was mechanical.
-
- "Sucks to your ass-mar."
-
- "If I pull logs, I get my asthma bad. I wish I didn't, Ralph, but there it is."
-
- The three boys went into the forest and fetched armfuls of rotten wood. Once more the smoke rose, yellow and thick.
-
- "Let's get something to eat."
-
- Together they went to the fruit trees, carrying their spears, saying little, cramming in haste. When they came out of the forest again the sun was setting and only embers glowed in the fire, and there was no smoke.
-
- "I can't carry any more wood," said Eric. "I'm tired."
-
- Ralph cleared his throat.
-
- "We kept the fire going up there."
-
- "Up there it was small. But this has got to be a big one."
-
- Ralph carried a fragment to the fire and watched the smoke that drifted into the dusk.
-
- "We've got to keep it going."
-
- Eric flung himself down.
-
- "I'm too tired. And what's the good?"
-
- "Eric!" cried Ralph in a shocked voice. "Don't talk like that!"
-
- Sam knelt by Eric.
-
- "Well--what is the good?"
-
- Ralph tried indignantly to remember. There was something good about a fire. Something overwhelmingly good.
-
- "Ralph's told you often enough," said Piggy moodily. "How else are we going to be rescued?"
-
- "Of course! If we don't make smoke--"
-
- He squatted before them in the crowding dusk.
-
- "Don't you understand? What's the good of wishing for radios and boats?"
-
- He held out his hand and twisted the fingers into a fist. "There's only one thing we can do to get out of this mess. Anyone can play at hunting, anyone can get us meat--"
-
- He looked from face to face. Then, at the moment of greatest passion and conviction, that curtain flapped in his head and he forgot what he had been driving at. He knelt there, his fist clenched, gazing solemnly from one to the other. Then the curtain whisked back.
-
- "Oh, yes. So we've got to make smoke; and more smoke--"
-
- "But we can't keep it going! Look at that!"
-
- The fire was dying on them.
-
- "Two to mind the fire," said Ralph, half to himself, "that's twelve hours a day."
-
- "We can't get any more wood, Ralph--"
-
- "--not in the dark--"
-
- "--not at night--"
-
- "We can light it every morning," said Piggy. "Nobody ain't going to see smoke in the dark."
-
- Sam nodded vigorously.
-
- "It was different when the fire was--"
-
- "--up there."
-
- Ralph stood up, feeling curiously defenseless with the darkness pressing in.
-
- "Let the fire go then, for tonight."
-
- He led the way to the first shelter, which still stood, though battered. The bed leaves lay within, dry and noisy to the touch. In the next shelter a littlun was talking in his sleep. The four biguns crept into the shelter and burrowed under the leaves. The twins lay together and Ralph and Piggy at the other end. For a while there was the continual creak and rustle of leaves as they tried for comfort.
-
- "Piggy."
-
- "Yeah?"
-
- "All right?"
-
- "S'pose so."
-
- At length, save for an occasional rustle, the shelter was silent. An oblong of blackness relieved with brilliant spangles hung before them and there was the hollow sound of surf on the reef. Ralph settled himself for his nightly game of supposing. . . .
-
- Supposing they could be transported home by jet, then before morning they would land at that big airfield in Wiltshire. They would go by car; no, for things to be perfect they would go by train; all the way down toDevon and take that cottage again. Then at the foot of the garden the wild ponies would come and look over the wall. . . .
-
- Ralph turned restlessly in the leaves.Dartmoor was wild and so were the ponies. But the attraction of wildness had gone.
-
- His mind skated to a consideration of a tamed town where savagery could not set foot. What could be safer than the bus center with its lamps and wheels?
-
- All at once, Ralph was dancing round a lamp standard. There was a bus crawling out of the bus station, a strange bus. . . .
-
- "Ralph! Ralph!"
-
- "What is it?"
-
- "Don't make a noise like that--"
-
- "Sorry."
-
- From the darkness of the further end of the shelter came a dreadful moaning and they shattered the leaves in their fear. Sam and Eric, locked in an embrace, were fighting each other.
-
- "Sam! Sam!"
-
- "Hey--Eric!"
-
- Presently all was quiet again.
-
- Piggy spoke softly to Ralph.
-
- "We got to get out of this."
-
- "What d'you mean?"
-
- "Get rescued."
-
- For the first time that day, and despite the crowding blackness, Ralph sniggered.
-
- "I mean it," whispered Piggy. "If we don't get home soon we'll be barmy."
-
- "Round the bend."
-
- "Bomb happy."
-
- "Crackers;"
-
- Ralph pushed the damp tendrils of hair out of his eyes.
-
- "You write a letter to your auntie."
-
- Piggy considered this solemnly.
-
- "I don't know where she is now. And I haven't got an envelope and a stamp. An' there isn't a mailbox. Or a postman."
-
- The success of his tiny joke overcame Ralph. His sniggers became uncontrollable, his body jumped and twitched.
-
- Piggy rebuked him with dignity.
-
- "I haven't said anything all that funny."
-
- Ralph continued to snigger though his chest hurt. His twitchings exhausted him till he lay, breathless and woebegone, waiting for the next spasm. During one of these pauses he was ambushed by sleep.
-
- "Ralph! You been making a noise again. Do be quiet, Ralph--because."
-
- Ralph heaved over among the leaves. He had reason to be thankful that his dream was broken, for the bus had been nearer and more distinct.
-
- "Why--because?"
-
- "Be quiet--and listen."
-
- Ralph lay down carefully, to the accompaniment of a long sigh from the leaves. Eric moaned something and then lay still. The darkness, save for the useless oblong of stars, was blanket-thick.
-
- "I can't hear anything."
-
- "There's something moving outside."
-
- Ralph's head prickled. The sound of his blood drowned all else and then subsided.
-
- "I still can't hear anything."
-
- "Listen. Listen for a long time."
-
- Quite clearly and emphatically, and only a yard or so away from the back of the shelter, a stick cracked. The blood roared again in Ralph's ears, confused images chased each other through his mind. A composite of these things was prowling round the shelters. He could feel Piggy's head against his shoulder and the convulsive grip of a hand.
-
- "Ralph! Ralph!"
-
- "Shut up and listen."
-
- Desperately, Ralph prayed that the beast would prefer littluns.
-
- A voice whispered horribly outside.
-
- "Piggy--Piggy--"
-
- "It's come!" gasped Piggy. "It's real!"
-
- He clung to Ralph and reached to get his breath.
-
- "Piggy, come outside. I want you, Piggy."
-
- Ralph's mouth was against Piggy's ear.
-
- "Don't say anything."
-
- "Piggy--where are you, Piggy?"
-
- Something brushed against the back of the shelter. Piggy kept still for a moment, then he had his asthma. He arched his back and crashed among the leaves with his legs. Ralph rolled away from him.
-
- Then there was a vicious snarling in the mouth of the shelter and the plunge and thump of living things. Someone tripped over Ralph and Piggy's corner became a complication of snarls and crashes and flying limbs. Ralph hit out; then he and what seemed like a dozen others were rolling over and over, hitting, biting, scratching. He was torn and jolted, found fingers in his mouth and bit them. A fist withdrew and came back like a piston, so that the whole shelter exploded into light. Ralph twisted sideways on top of a writhing body and felt hot breath on his cheek. He began to pound the mouth below him, using his clenched fist as a hammer; he hit with more and more passionate hysteria as the face became slippery. A knee jerked up between his legs and he fell sideways, busying himself with his pain, and the fight rolled over him. Then the shelter collapsed with smothering finality; and the anonymous shapes fought their way out and through. Dark figures drew themselves out of the wreckage and flitted away, till the screams of the littluns and Piggy's gasps were once more audible.
-
- Ralph called out in a quavering voice.
-
- "All you littluns, go to sleep. We've had a fight with the others. Now go to sleep."
-
- Samneric came close and peered at Ralph.
-
- "Are you two all right?"
-
- "I think so--"
-
- "--I got busted."
-
- "So did I. How's Piggy?"
-
- They hauled Piggy clear of the wreckage and leaned him against a tree. The night was cool and purged of immediate terror. Piggy's breathing was a little easier.
-
- "Did you get hurt, Piggy?"
-
- "Not much."
-
- "That was Jack and his hunters," said Ralph bitterly. "Why can't they leave us alone?"
-
- "We gave them something to think about," said Sam. Honesty compelled him to go on. "At least you did. I got mixed up with myself in a corner."
-
- "I gave one of 'em what for," said Ralph, "I smashed him up all right. He won't want to come and fight us again in a hurry."
-
- "So did I," said Eric. "When I woke up one was kicking me in the face. I got an awful bloody face, I think, Ralph. But I did him in the end."
-
- "What did you do?"
-
- "I got my knee up," said Eric with simple pride, "and I hit him with it in the pills. You should have heard him holler! He won't come back in a hurry either. So we didn't do too badly."
-
- Ralph moved suddenly in the dark; but then he heard Eric working his mouth.
-
- "What's the matter?"
-
- "Jus' a tooth loose."
-
- Piggy drew up his legs.
-
- "You all right, Piggy?"
-
- "I thought they wanted the conch."
-
- Ralph trotted down the pale beach and jumped on to the platform. The conch still glimmered by the chief's seat. He gazed for a moment or two, then went back to Piggy.
-
- "They didn't take the conch."
-
- "I know. They didn't come for the conch. They came for something else. Ralph--what am I going to do?"
-
- Far off along the bowstave of beach, three figures trotted toward the Castle Rock. They kept away from the forest and down by the water. Occasionally they sang softly; occasionally they turned cartwheels down by the moving streak of phosphorescence. The chief led then, trotting steadily, exulting in his achievement. He was a chief now in truth; and he made stabbing motions with his spear. From his left hand dangled Piggy's broken glasses.
-
- 
-
- 
-
- CHAPTERELEVENCastleRock
-
- 
-
- In the short chill of dawn the four boys gathered round the black smudge where the fire had been, while Ralph knelt and blew. Grey, feathery ashes scurried hither and thither at his breath but no spark shone among them. The twins watched anxiously and Piggy sat expressionless behind the luminous wall of his myopia. Ralph continued to blow till his ears were singing with the effort, but then the first breeze of dawn took the job off his hands and blinded him with ashes. He squatted back, swore, and rubbed water out of his eyes.
-
- "No use."
-
- Eric looked down at him through a mask of dried blood. Piggy peered in the general direction of Ralph.
-
- " 'Course it's no use, Ralph. Now we got no fire."
-
- Ralph brought his face within a couple of feet of Piggy's.
-
- "Can you see me?"
-
- "A bit."
-
- Ralph allowed the swollen flap of his cheek to close his eye again.
-
- "They've got our fire."
-
- Rage shrilled his voice.
-
- "They stole it!"
-
- "That's them," said Piggy. "They blinded me. See? That's Jack Merridew. You call an assembly, Ralph, we got to decide what to do."
-
- "An assembly for only us?"
-
- "It's all we got. Sam--let me hold on to you."
-
- They went toward the platform.
-
- "Blow the conch," said Piggy. "Blow as loud as you can."
-
- The forests re-echoed; and birds lifted, crying out of the treetops, as on that first morning ages ago. Both ways the beach was deserted. Some littluns came from the shelters. Ralph sat down on the polished trunk and the three others stood before him. He nodded, and Samneric sat down on the right. Ralph pushed the conch into Piggy's hands. He held the shining thing carefully and blinked at Ralph.
-
- "Go on, then."
-
- "I just take the conch to say this. I can't see no more and I got to get my glasses back. Awful things has been done on this island. I voted for you for chief. He's the only one who ever got anything done. So now you speak, Ralph, and tell us what. Or else--"
-
- Piggy broke off, sniveling. Ralph took back the conch as he sat down.
-
- "Just an ordinary fire. You'd think we could do that, wouldn't you? Just a smoke signal so we can be rescued. Are we savages or what? Only now there's no signal going up. Ships may be passing. Do you remember how he went hunting and the fire went out and a ship passed by? And they all think he's best as chief. Then there was, there was . . . that's his fault, too. If it hadn't been for him it would never have happened. Now Piggy can't see, and they came, stealing--" Ralph's voice ran up "--at night, in darkness, and stole our fire. They stole it. We'd have given them fire if they'd asked. But they stole it and the signal's out and we can't ever be rescued. Don't you see what I mean? We'd have given them fire for themselves only they stole it. I--"
-
- He paused lamely as the curtain flickered in his brain. Piggy held out his hands for the conch.
-
- "What you goin' to do, Ralph? This is jus' talk without deciding. I want my glasses."
-
- "I'm trying to think. Supposing we go, looking like we used to, washed and hair brushed--after all we aren't savages really and being rescued isn't a game--"
-
- He opened the flap of his cheek and looked at the twins.
-
- "We could smarten up a bit and then go--"
-
- "We ought to take spears," said Sam. "Even Piggy."
-
- "--because we may need them."
-
- "You haven't got the conch!"
-
- Piggy held up the shell.
-
- "You can take spears if you want but I shan't. What's the good? I'll have to be led like a dog, anyhow. Yes, laugh. Go on, laugh. There's them on this island as would laugh at anything. And what happened? What's grownups goin' to think? Young Simon was murdered. And there was that other kid what had a mark on his face. Who's seen him since we first come here?"
-
- "Piggy! Stop a minute!"
-
- "I got the conch. I'm going to that Jack Merridew an' tell him, I am."
-
- "You'll get hurt."
-
- "What can he do more than he has? I'll tell him what's what. You let me carry the conch, Ralph. I'll show him the one thing he hasn't got."
-
- Piggy paused for a moment and peered round at the dim figures. The shape of the old assembly, trodden in the grass, listened to him.
-
- "I'm going to him with this conch in my hands. I'm going to hold it out. Look, I'm goin' to say, you're stronger than I am and you haven't got asthma. You can see, I'm goin' to say, and with both eyes. But I don't ask for my glasses back, not as a favor. I don't ask you to be a sport, I'll say, not because you're strong, but because what's right's right. Give me my glasses, I'm going to say--you got to!"
-
- Piggy ended, flushed and trembling. He pushed the conch quickly into Ralph's hands as though in a hurry to be rid of it and wiped the tears from his eyes. The green light was gentle about them and the conch lay at Ralph's feet, fragile and white. A single drop of water that had escaped Piggy's fingers now flashed on the delicate curve like a star.
-
- At last Ralph sat up straight and drew back his hair.
-
- "All right. I mean--you can try if you like. We'll go with you."
-
- "He'll be painted," said Sam, timidly. "You know how he'll be--"
-
- "--he won't think much of us--"
-
- "--if he gets waxy we've had it--"
-
- Ralph scowled at Sam. Dimly he remembered something Simon had said to him once, by the rocks.
-
- "Don't be silly," he said. And then he added quickly, "Let's go."
-
- He held out the conch to Piggy who flushed, this time with pride.
-
- "You must carry it."
-
- "When we're ready I'll carry it--"
-
- Piggy sought in his mind for words to convey his passionate willingness to carry the conch against all odds.
-
- "I don't mind. I'll be glad, Ralph, only I'll have to be led."
-
- Ralph put the conch back on the shining log.
-
- "We better eat and then get ready."
-
- They made their way to the devastated fruit trees. Piggy was helped to his food and found some by touch. While they ate, Ralph thought of the afternoon.
-
- "We'll be like we were. We'll wash--"
-
- Sam gulped down a mouthful and protested.
-
- "But we bathe every day!"
-
- Ralph looked at the filthy objects before him and sighed.
-
- "We ought to comb our hair. Only it's too long."
-
- "I've got both socks left in the shelter," said Eric, "so we could pull them over our heads like caps, sort of."
-
- "We could find some stuff," said Piggy, "and tie your hair back."
-
- "Like a girl!"
-
- "No. 'Course not."
-
- "Then we must go as we are," said Ralph, "and they won't be any better."
-
- Eric made a detaining gesture.
-
- "But they'll be painted! You know how it is." The others nodded. They understood only too well the liberation into savagery that the concealing paint brought.
-
- "Well, we won't be painted," said Ralph, "because we aren't savages."
-
- Samneric looked at each other.
-
- "All the same--"
-
- Ralph shouted.
-
- "No paint!"
-
- He tried to remember.
-
- "Smoke," he said, "we want smoke."
-
- He turned on the twins fiercely.
-
- "I said 'smoke'! We've got to have smoke."
-
- There was silence, except for the multitudinous murmur of the bees. As last Piggy spoke, kindly.
-
- " 'Course we have. 'Cos the smoke's a signal and we can't be rescued if we don't have smoke."
-
- "I knew that!" shouted Ralph. He pulled his arm away from Piggy. "Are you suggesting--?"
-
- "I'm jus' saying what you always say," said Piggy hastily. "I'd thought for a moment--"
-
- "I hadn't," said Ralph loudly. "I knew it all the time. I hadn't forgotten."
-
- Piggy nodded propitiatingly.
-
- "You're chief, Ralph. You remember everything."
-
- "I hadn't forgotten."
-
- " 'Course not."
-
- The twins were examining Ralph curiously, as though they were seeing him for the first time.
-
- 
-
- They set off along the beach in formation. Ralph went first, limping a little, his spear carried over one shoulder. He saw things partially, through the tremble of the heat haze over the flashing sands, and his own long hair and injuries. Behind him came the twins, worried now for a while but full of unquenchable vitality. They said little but trailed the butts of their wooden spears; for Piggy had found that, by looking down and shielding his tired sight from the sun, he could just see these moving along the sand. He walked between the trailing butts, therefore, the conch held carefully between his two hands. The boys made a compact little group that moved over the beach, four plate-like shadows dancing and mingling beneath them. There was no sign left of the storm, and the beach was swept clean like a blade that has been scoured. The sky and the mountain were at an immense distance, shimmering in the heat; and the reef was lifted by mirage, floating in a kind of silver pool halfway up the sky.
-
- They passed the place where the tribe had danced. The charred sticks still lay on the rocks where the rain had quenched them but the sand by the water was smooth again. They passed this in silence. No one doubted that the tribe would be found at the Castle Rock and when they came in sight of it they stopped with one accord. The densest tangle on the island, a mass of twisted stems, black and green and impenetrable, lay on their left and tall grass swayed before them. Now Ralph went forward.
-
- Here was the crushed grass where they had all lain when he had gone to prospect. There was the neck of land, the ledge skirting the rock, up there were the red pinnacles.
-
- Sam touched his arm.
-
- "Smoke."
-
- There was a tiny smudge of smoke wavering into the air on the other side of the rock.
-
- "Some fire--I don't think."
-
- Ralph turned.
-
- "What are we hiding for?"
-
- He stepped through the screen of grass on to the little open space that led to the narrow neck.
-
- "You two follow behind. I'll go first, then Piggy a pace behind me. Keep your spears ready."
-
- Piggy peered anxiously into the luminous veil that hung between him and the world.
-
- "Is it safe? Ain't there a cliff? I can hear the sea."
-
- "You keep right close to me."
-
- Ralph moved forward on to the neck. He kicked a stone and it bounded into the water. Then the sea sucked down, revealing a red, weedy square forty feet beneath Ralph's left arm.
-
- "Am I safe?" quavered Piggy. "I feel awful--"
-
- High above them from the pinnacles came a sudden shout and then an imitation war-cry that was answered by a dozen voices from behind the rock.
-
- "Give me the conch and stay still."
-
- "Halt! Who goes there?"
-
- Ralph bent back his head and glimpsed Roger's dark face at the top.
-
- "You can see who I am!" he shouted. "Stop being silly!"
-
- He put the conch to his lips and began to blow. Savages appeared, painted out of recognition, edging round the ledge toward the neck. They carried spears and disposed themselves to defend the entrance. Ralph went on blowing and ignored Piggy's terrors.
-
- Roger was shouting.
-
- "You mind out--see?"
-
- At length Ralph took his lips away and paused to get his breath back. His first words were a gasp, but audible.
-
- "--calling an assembly."
-
- The savages guarding the neck muttered among themselves but made no motion. Ralph walked forwards a couple of steps. A voice whispered urgently behind him.
-
- "Don't leave me, Ralph."
-
- "You kneel down," said Ralph sideways, "and wait till I come back."
-
- He stood halfway along the neck and gazed at the savages intently. Freed by the paint, they had tied their hair back and were more comfortable than he was. Ralph made a resolution to tie his own back afterwards. Indeed he felt like telling them to wait and doing it there and then; but that was impossible. The savages sniggered a bit and one gestured at Ralph with his spear. High above, Roger took his hands off the lever and leaned out to see what was going on. The boys on the neck stood in a pool of their own shadow, diminished to shaggy heads. Piggy crouched, his back shapeless as a sack.
-
- "I'm calling an assembly."
-
- Silence.
-
- Roger took up a small stone and flung it between the twins, aiming to miss. They started and Sam only just kept his footing. Some source of power began to pulse in Roger's body.
-
- Ralph spoke again, loudly.
-
- "I'm calling an assembly."
-
- He ran his eye over them.
-
- "Where's Jack?"
-
- The group of boys stirred and consulted. A painted face spoke with the voice of Robert.
-
- "He's hunting. And he said we weren't to let you in."
-
- "I've come to see about the fire," said Ralph, "and about Piggy's specs."
-
- The group in front of him shifted and laughter shivered outwards from among them, light, excited laughter that went echoing among the tall rocks.
-
- A voice spoke from behind Ralph.
-
- "What do you want?"
-
- The twins made a bolt past Ralph and got between him and the entry. He turned quickly. Jack, identifiable by personality and red hair, was advancing from the forest. A hunter crouched on either side. All three were masked in black and green. Behind them on the grass the headless and paunched body of a sow lay where they had dropped it.
-
- Piggy wailed.
-
- "Ralph! Don't leave me!"
-
- With ludicrous care he embraced the rock, pressing himself to it above the sucking sea. The sniggering of the savages became a loud derisive jeer.
-
- Jack shouted above the noise.
-
- "You go away, Ralph. You keep to your end. This is my end and my tribe. You leave me alone."
-
- The jeering died away.
-
- "You pinched Piggy's specs," said Ralph, breathlessly. "You've got to give them back."
-
- "Got to? Who says?"
-
- Ralph's temper blazed out.
-
- "I say! You voted for me for chief. Didn't you hear the conch? You played a dirty trick--we'd have given you fire if you'd asked for it--"
-
- The blood was flowing in his cheeks and the bunged-up eye throbbed.
-
- "You could have had fire whenever you wanted. But you didn't. You came sneaking up like a thief and stole Piggy's glasses!"
-
- "Say that again!"
-
- "Thief! Thief!"
-
- Piggy screamed.
-
- "Ralph! Mind me!"
-
- Jack made a rush and stabbed at Ralph's chest with his spear. Ralph sensed the position of the weapon from the glimpse he caught of Jack's arm and put the thrust aside with his own butt. Then he brought the end round and caught Jack a stinger across the ear. They were chest to chest, breathing fiercely, pushing and glaring.
-
- "Who's a thief?"
-
- "You are!"
-
- Jack wrenched free and swung at Ralph with his spear. By common consent they were using the spears as sabers now, no longer daring the lethal points. The blow struck Ralph's spear and slid down, to fall agonizingly on his fingers. Then they were apart once more, their positions reversed, Jack toward the Castle Rock and Ralph on the outside toward the island.
-
- Both boys were breathing very heavily.
-
- "Come on then--"
-
- "Come on--"
-
- Truculently they squared up to each other but kept just out of fighting distance.
-
- "You come on and see what you get!"
-
- "You come on--"
-
- Piggy clutching the ground was trying to attract Ralph's attention. Ralph moved, bent down, kept a wary eye on Jack.
-
- "Ralph--remember what we came for. The fire. My specs."
-
- Ralph nodded. He relaxed his fighting muscles, stood easily and grounded the butt of his spear. Jack watched him inscrutably through his paint. Ralph glanced up at the pinnacles, then toward the group of savages.
-
- "Listen. We've come to say this. First you've got to give back Piggy's specs. If he hasn't got them he can't see. You aren't playing the game--"
-
- The tribe of painted savages giggled and Ralph's mind faltered. He pushed his hair up and gazed at the green and black mask before him, trying to remember what Jack looked like.
-
- Piggy whispered.
-
- "And the fire."
-
- "Oh yes. Then about the fire. I say this again. I've been saying it ever since we dropped in."
-
- He held out his spear and pointed at the savages. "Your only hope is keeping a signal fire going as long as there's light to see. Then maybe a ship'll notice the smoke and come and rescue us and take us home. But without that smoke we've got to wait till some ship comes by accident. We might wait years; till we were old--"
-
- The shivering, silvery, unreal laughter of the savages sprayed out and echoed away. A gust of rage shook Ralph. His voice cracked.
-
- "Don't you understand, you painted fools? Sam, Eric, Piggy and me--we aren't enough. We tried to keep the fire going, but we couldn't. And then you, playing at hunting. . . ."
-
- He pointed past them to where the trickle of smoke dispersed in the pearly air.
-
- "Look at that! Call that a signal fire? That's a cooking fire. Now you'll eat and there'll be no smoke. Don't you understand? There may be a ship out there--"
-
- He paused, defeated by the silence and the painted anonymity of the group guarding the entry. Jack opened a pink mouth and addressed Samneric, who were between him and his tribe.
-
- "You two. Get back."
-
- No one answered him. The twins, puzzled, looked at each other; while Piggy, reassured by the cessation of violence, stood up carefully. Jack glanced back at Ralph and then at the twins.
-
- "Grab them!"
-
- No one moved. Jack shouted angrily.
-
- "I said 'grab them'!"
-
- The painted group moved round Samneric nervously and unhandily. Once more the silvery laughter scattered.
-
- Samneric protested out of the heart of civilization.
-
- "Oh, I say!"
-
- "--honestly!"
-
- Their spears were taken from them.
-
- "Tie them up!"
-
- Ralph cried out hopelessly against the black and green mask.
-
- "Jack!"
-
- "Go on. Tie them."
-
- Now the painted group felt the otherness of Samneric, felt the power in their own hands. They felled the twins clumsily and excitedly. Jack was inspired. He knew that Ralph would attempt a rescue. He struck in a humming circle behind him and Ralph only just parried the blow. Beyond them the tribe and the twins were a loud and writhing heap. Piggy crouched again. Then the twins lay, astonished, and the tribe stood round them. Jack turned to Ralph and spoke between his teeth.
-
- "See? They do what I want."
-
- There was silence again. The twins lay, inexpertly tied up, and the tribe watched Ralph to see what he would do. He numbered them through his fringe, glimpsed the ineffectual smoke.
-
- His temper broke. He screamed at Jack.
-
- "You're a beast and a swine and a bloody, bloody thief!"
-
- He charged.
-
- Jack, knowing this was the crisis, charged too. They met with a jolt and bounced apart. Jack swung with his fist at Ralph and caught him on the ear. Ralph hit Jack in the stomach and made him grunt. Then they were facing each other again, panting and furious, but unnerved by each other's ferocity. They became aware of the noise that was the background to this fight, the steady shrill cheering of the tribe behind them.
-
- Piggy's voice penetrated to Ralph.
-
- "Let me speak."
-
- He was standing in the dust of the fight, and as the tribe saw his intention the shrill cheer changed to a steady booing.
-
- Piggy held up the conch and the booing sagged a little, then came up again to strength.
-
- "I got the conch!"
-
- He shouted.
-
- "I tell you, I got the conch!"
-
- Surprisingly, there was silence now; the tribe were curious to hear what amusing thing he might have to say.
-
- Silence and pause; but in the silence a curious air-noise, close by Ralph's head. He gave it half his attention--and there it was again; a faint "Zup!" Someone was throwing stones: Roger was dropping them, his one hand still on the lever. Below him, Ralph was a shock of hair and Piggy a bag of fat.
-
- "I got this to say. You're acting like a crowd of kids." The booing rose and died again as Piggy lifted the white, magic shell.
-
- "Which is better--to be a pack of painted Indians like you are, or to be sensible like Ralph is?"
-
- A great clamor rose among the savages. Piggy shouted again.
-
- "Which is better--to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill?"
-
- Again the clamor and again--"Zup!"
-
- Ralph shouted against the noise.
-
- "Which is better, law and rescue, or hunting and breaking things up?"
-
- Now Jack was yelling too and Ralph could no longer make himself heard. Jack had backed right against the tribe and they were a solid mass of menace that bristled with spears. The intention of a charge was forming among them; they were working up to it and the neck would be swept clear. Ralph stood facing them, a little to one side, his spear ready. By him stood Piggy still holding out the talisman, the fragile, shining beauty of the shell. The storm of sound beat at them, an incantation of hatred. High overhead, Roger, with a sense of delirious abandonment, leaned all his weight on the lever.
-
- Ralph heard the great rock before he saw it. He was aware of a jolt in the earth that came to him through the soles of his feet, and the breaking sound of stones at the top of the cliff. Then the monstrous red thing bounded across the neck and he flung himself flat while the tribe shrieked.
-
- The rock struck Piggy a glancing blow from chin to knee; the conch exploded into a thousand white fragments and ceased to exist. Piggy, saying nothing, with no time for even a grunt, traveled through the air sideways from the rock, turning over as he went. The rock bounded twice and was lost in the forest. Piggy fell forty feet and landed on his back across the square red rock in the sea. His head opened and stuff came out and turned red. Piggy's arms and legs twitched a bit, like a pig's after it has been killed. Then the sea breathed again in a long, slow sigh, the water boiled white and pink over the rock; and when it went, sucking back again, the body of Piggy was gone.
-
- This time the silence was complete. Ralph's lips formed a word but no sound came.
-
- Suddenly Jack bounded out from the tribe and began screaming wildly.
-
- "See? See? That's what you'll get! I meant that! There isn't a tribe for you any more! The conch is gone--"
-
- He ran forward, stooping.
-
- "I'm chief!"
-
- Viciously, with full intention, he hurled his spear at Ralph. The point tore the skin and flesh over Ralph's ribs, then sheared off and fell in the water. Ralph stumbled, feeling not pain but panic, and the tribe, screaming now like the chief, began to advance. Another spear, a bent one that would not fly straight, went past his face and one fell from on high where Roger was. The twins lay hidden behind the tribe and the anonymous devils' faces swarmed across the neck. Ralph turned and ran. A great noise as of sea gulls rose behind him. He obeyed an instinct that he did not know he possessed and swerved over the open space so that the spears went wide. He saw the headless body of the sow and jumped in time. Then he was crashing through foliage and small boughs and was hidden by the forest.
-
- 
-
- The chief stopped by the pig, turned and held up his hands.
-
- "Back! Back to the fort!"
-
- Presently the tribe returned noisily to the neck where Roger joined them.
-
- The chief spoke to him angrily.
-
- "Why aren't you on watch?"
-
- Roger looked at him gravely.
-
- "I just came down--"
-
- The hangman's horror clung round him. The chief said no more to him but looked down at Samneric.
-
- "You got to join the tribe."
-
- "You lemme go--"
-
- "--and me."
-
- The chief snatched one of the few spears that were left and poked Sam in the ribs.
-
- "What d'you mean by it, eh?" said the chief fiercely. "What d'you mean by coming with spears? What d'you mean by not joining my tribe?"
-
- The prodding became rhythmic. Sam yelled.
-
- "That's not the way."
-
- Roger edged past the chief, only just avoiding pushing him with his shoulder. The yelling ceased, and Samneric lay looking up in quiet terror. Roger advanced upon them as one wielding a nameless authority.
-
- 
-
- 
-
- CHAPTER TWELVE Cry of the Hunters
-
- 
-
- Ralph lay in a covert, wondering about his wounds. The bruised flesh was inches in diameter over his right ribs, with a swollen and bloody scar where the spear had hit him. His hair was full of dirt and tapped like the tendrils of a creeper. All over he was scratched and bruised from his flight through the forest. By the time his breathing was normal again, he had worked out that bathing these injuries would have to wait. How could you listen for naked feet if you were splashing in water? How could you be safe by the little stream or on the open beach?
-
- Ralph listened. He was not really far from the Castle Rock, and during the first panic he had thought he heard sounds of pursuit. But the hunters had only sneaked into the fringes of the greenery, retrieving spears perhaps, and then had rushed back to the sunny rock as if terrified of the darkness under the leaves. He had even glimpsed one of them, striped brown, black, and red, and had judged that it was Bill. But really, thought Ralph, this was not Bill. This was a savage whose image refused to blend with that ancient picture of a boy in shorts and shirt.
-
- The afternoon died away; the circular spots of sunlight moved steadily over green fronds and brown fiber but no sound came from behind the rock. At last Ralph wormed out of the ferns and sneaked forward to the edge of that impenetrable thicket that fronted the neck of land. He peered with elaborate caution between branches at the edge and could see Robert sitting on guard at the top of the cliff. He held a spear in his left hand and was tossing up a pebble and catching it again with the right. Behind him a column of smoke rose thickly, so that Ralph's nostrils flared and his mouth dribbled. He wiped his nose and mouth with the back of his hand and for the first time since the morning felt hungry. The tribe must be sitting round the gutted pig, watching the fat ooze and burn among the ashes. They would be intent.
-
- Another figure, an unrecognizable one, appeared by Robert and gave him something, then turned and went back behind the rock. Robert laid his spear on the rock beside him and began to gnaw between his raised hands. So the feast was beginning and the watchman had been given his portion.
-
- Ralph saw that for the time being he was safe. He limped away through the fruit trees, drawn by the thought of the poor food yet bitter when he remembered the feast. Feast today, and then tomorrow. . . .
-
- He argued unconvincingly that they would let him alone, perhaps even make an outlaw of him. But then the fatal unreasoning knowledge came to him again. The breaking of the conch and the deaths of Piggy and Simon lay over the island like a vapor. These painted savages would go further and further. Then there was that indefinable connection between himself and Jack; who therefore would never let him alone; never.
-
- He paused, sun-flecked, holding up a bough, prepared to duck under it. A spasm of terror set him shaking and he cried aloud.
-
- "No. They're not as bad as that. It was an accident."
-
- He ducked under the bough, ran clumsily, then stopped and listened.
-
- He came to the smashed acres of fruit and ate greedily. He saw two littluns and, not having any idea of his own appearance, wondered why they screamed and ran.
-
- When he had eaten he went toward the beach. The sunlight was slanting now into the palms by the wrecked shelter. There was the platform and the pool. The best thing to do was to ignore this leaden feeling about the heart and rely on their common sense, their daylight sanity. Now that the tribe had eaten, the thing to do was to try again. And anyway, he couldn't stay here all night in an empty shelter by the deserted platform. His flesh crept and he shivered in the evening sun. No fire; no smoke; no rescue. He turned and limped away through the forest toward Jack's end of the island.
-
- The slanting sticks of sunlight were lost among the branches. At length he came to a clearing in the forest where rock prevented vegetation from growing. Now it was a pool of shadows and Ralph nearly flung himself behind a tree when he saw something standing in the center; but then he saw that the white face was bone and that the pig's skull grinned at him from the top of a stick. He walked slowly into the middle of the clearing and looked steadily at the skull that gleamed as white as ever the conch had done and seemed to jeer at him cynically. An inquisitive ant was busy in one of the eye sockets but otherwise the thing was lifeless.
-
- Or was it?
-
- Little prickles of sensation ran up and down his back. He stood, the skull about on a level with his face, and held up his hair with two hands. The teeth grinned, the empty sockets seemed to hold his gaze masterfully and without effort.
-
- What was it?
-
- The skull regarded Ralph like one who knows all the answers and won't tell. A sick fear and rage swept him. Fiercely he hit out at the filthy thing in front of him that bobbed like a toy and came back, still grinning into his face, so that he lashed and cried out in loathing. Then he was licking his bruised knuckles and looking at the bare stick, while the skull lay in two pieces, its grin now six feet across. He wrenched the quivering stick from the crack and held it as a spear between him and the white pieces. Then he backed away, keeping his face to the skull that lay grinning at the sky.
-
- When the green glow had gone from the horizon and night was fully accomplished, Ralph came again to the thicket in front of the Castle Rock. Peeping through, he could see that the height was still occupied, and whoever it was up there had a spear at the ready.
-
- He knelt among the shadows and felt his isolation bitterly. They were savages it was true; but they were human, and the ambushing fears of the deep night were coming on.
-
- Ralph moaned faintly. Tired though he was, he could not relax and fall into a well of sleep for fear of the tribe. Might it not be possible to walk boldly into the fort, say-- "I've got pax," laugh lightly and sleep among the others? Pretend they were still boys, schoolboys who had said, "Sir, yes, Sir"--and worn caps? Daylight might have answered yes; but darkness and the horrors of death said no. Lying there in the darkness, he knew he was an outcast.
-
- " 'Cos I had some sense."
-
- He rubbed his cheek along his forearm, smelling the acrid scent of salt and sweat and the staleness of dirt. Over to the left, the waves of ocean were breathing, sucking down, then boiling back over the rock.
-
- There were sounds coming from behind the Castle Rock. Listening carefully, detaching his mind from the swing of the sea, Ralph could make out a familiar rhythm.
-
- "_Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!_"
-
- The tribe was dancing. Somewhere on the other side of this rocky wall there would be a dark circle, a glowing fire, and meat. They would be savoring food and the comfort of safety.
-
- A noise nearer at hand made him quiver. Savages were clambering up the Castle Rock, right up to the top, and he could hear voices. He sneaked forward a few yards and saw the shape at the top of the rock change and enlarge. There were only two boys on the island who moved or talked like that.
-
- Ralph put his head down on his forearms and accepted this new fact like a wound. Samneric were part of the tribe now. They were guarding the Castle Rock against him. There was no chance of rescuing them and building up an outlaw tribe at the other end of the island. Samneric were savages like the rest; Piggy was dead, and the conch smashed to powder.
-
- At length the guard climbed down. The two that remained seemed nothing more than a dark extension of the rock. A star appeared behind them and was momentarily eclipsed by some movement.
-
- Ralph edged forward, feeling his way over the uneven surface as though he were blind. There were miles of vague water at his right and the restless ocean lay under his left hand, as awful as the shaft of a pit. Every minute the water breathed round the death rock and flowered into a field of whiteness. Ralph crawled until he found the ledge of the entry in his grasp. The lookouts were immediately above him and he could see the end of a spear projecting over the rock.
-
- He called very gently.
-
- "Samneric--"
-
- There was no reply. To carry he must speak louder; and this would rouse those striped and inimical creatures from their feasting by the fire. He set his teeth and started to climb, finding the holds by touch. The stick that had supported a skull hampered him but he would not be parted from his only weapon. He was nearly level with the twins before he spoke again.
-
- "Samneric--"
-
- He heard a cry and a flurry from the rock. The twins had grabbed each other and were gibbering.
-
- "It's me. Ralph."
-
- Terrified that they would run and give the alarm, he hauled himself up until his head and shoulders stuck over the top. Far below his armpit he saw the luminous flowering round the rock.
-
- "It's only me. Ralph."
-
- At length they bent forward and peered in his face.
-
- "We thought it was--"
-
- "--we didn't know what it was--"
-
- "--we thought--"
-
- Memory of their new and shameful loyalty came to them. Eric was silent but Sam tried to do his duty.
-
- "You got to go, Ralph. You go away now--"
-
- He wagged his spear and essayed fierceness.
-
- "You shove off. See?"
-
- Eric nodded agreement and jabbed his spear in the air. Ralph leaned on his arms and did not go.
-
- "I came to see you two."
-
- His voice was thick. His throat was hurting him now though it had received no wound.
-
- "I came to see you two--"
-
- Words could not express the dull pain of these things. He fell silent, while the vivid stars were spilt and danced all ways.
-
- Sam shifted uneasily.
-
- "Honest, Ralph, you'd better go."
-
- Ralph looked up again.
-
- "You two aren't painted. How can you--? If it were light--"
-
- If it were light shame would burn them at admitting these things. But the night was dark. Eric took up; and then the twins started their antiphonal speech.
-
- "You got to go because it's not safe--"
-
- "--they made us. They hurt us--"
-
- "Who? Jack?"
-
- "Oh no--"
-
- They bent to him and lowered their voices.
-
- "Push off, Ralph--"
-
- "--it's a tribe--"
-
- "--they made us--"
-
- "--we couldn't help it--"
-
- When Ralph spoke again his voice was low, and seemed breathless.
-
- "What have I done? I liked him--and I wanted us to be rescued--"
-
- Again the stars spilled about the sky. Eric shook his head, earnestly.
-
- "Listen, Ralph. Never mind what's sense. That's gone--"
-
- "Never mind about the chief--"
-
- "--you got to go for your own good."
-
- "The chief and Roger--"
-
- "--yes, Roger--"
-
- "They hate you, Ralph. They're going to do you."
-
- "They're going to hunt you tomorrow."
-
- "But why?"
-
- "I dunno. And Ralph, Jack, the chief, says it'll be dangerous--"
-
- "--and we've got to be careful and throw our spears like at a pig."
-
- "We're going to spread out in a line across the island--"
-
- "--we're going forward from this end--"
-
- "--until we find you."
-
- "We've got to give signals like this."
-
- Eric raised his head and achieved a faint ululation by beating on his open mouth. Then he glanced behind him nervously.
-
- "Like that--"
-
- "--only louder, of course."
-
- "But I've done nothing," whispered Ralph, urgently. "I only wanted to keep up a fire!"
-
- He paused for a moment, thinking miserably of the morrow. A matter of overwhelming importance occurred to him.
-
- "What are you--?"
-
- He could not bring himself to be specific at first; but then fear and loneliness goaded him.
-
- "When they find me, what are they going to do?"
-
- The twins were silent. Beneath him, the death rock flowered again.
-
- "What are they--oh God! I'm hungry--"
-
- The towering rock seemed to sway under him.
-
- "Well--what--?"
-
- The twins answered his question indirectly.
-
- "You got to go now, Ralph."
-
- "For your own good."
-
- "Keep away. As far as you can."
-
- "Won't you come with me? Three of us--we'd stand a chance."
-
- After a moment's silence, Sam spoke in a strangled voice.
-
- "You don't know Roger. He's a terror."
-
- "And the chief--they're both--"
-
- "--terrors--"
-
- "--only Roger--"
-
- Both boys froze. Someone was climbing toward them from the tribe.
-
- "He's coming to see if we're keeping watch. Quick, Ralph!"
-
- As he prepared to let himself down the cliff, Ralph snatched at the last possible advantage to be wrung out of this meeting.
-
- "I'll lie up close; in that thicket down there," he whispered, "so keep them away from it. They'll never think to look so close--"
-
- The footsteps were still some distance away.
-
- "Sam--I'm going to be all right, aren't I?"
-
- The twins were silent again.
-
- "Here!" said Sam suddenly. "Take this--"
-
- Ralph felt a chunk of meat pushed against him and grabbed it.
-
- "But what are you going to do when you catch me?"
-
- Silence above. He sounded silly to himself. He lowered himself down the rock.
-
- "What are you going to do--?"
-
- From the top of the towering rock came the incomprehensible reply.
-
- "Roger sharpened a stick at both ends."
-
- Roger sharpened a stick at both ends. Ralph tried to attach a meaning to this but could not. He used all the bad words he could think of in a fit of temper that passed into yawning. How long could you go without sleep? He yearned for a bed and sheets--but the only whiteness here was the slow spilt milk, luminous round the rock forty feet below, where Piggy had fallen. Piggy was everywhere, was on this neck, was become terrible in darkness and death. If Piggy were to come back now out of the water, with his empty head--Ralph whimpered and yawned like a littlun. The stick in his hand became a crutch on which he reeled.
-
- Then he tensed again. There were voices raised on the top of the Castle Rock. Samneric were arguing with someone. But the ferns and the grass were near. That was the place to be in, hidden, and next to the thicket that would serve for tomorrow's hideout. Here--and his hands touched grass--was a place to be in for the night, not far from the tribe, so that if the horrors of the supernatural emerged one could at least mix with humans for the time being, even if it meant . . .
-
- What did it mean? A stick sharpened at both ends. What was there in that? They had thrown spears and missed; all but one. Perhaps they would miss next time, too.
-
- He squatted down in the tall grass, remembered the meat that Sam had given him, and began to tear at it ravenously. While he was eating, he heard fresh noises--cries of pain from Samneric, cries of panic, angry voices. What did it mean? Someone besides himself was in trouble, for at least one of the twins was catching it. Then the voices passed away down the rock and he ceased to think of them. He felt with his hands and found cool, delicate fronds backed against the thicket. Here then was the night's lair. At first light he would creep into the thicket, squeeze between the twisted stems, ensconce himself so deep that only a crawler like himself could come through, and that crawler would be jabbed. There he would sit, and the search would pass him by, and the cordon waver on, ululating along the island, and he would be free.
-
- He pulled himself between the ferns, tunneling in. He laid the stick beside him, and huddled himself down in the blackness. One must remember to wake at first light, in order to diddle the savages--and he did not know how quickly sleep came and hurled him down a dark interior slope.
-
- 
-
- He was awake before his eyes were open, listening to a noise that was near. He opened an eye, found the mold an inch or so from his face and his fingers gripped into it, light filtering between the fronds of fern. He had just time to realize that the age-long nightmares of falling and death were past and that the morning was come, when he heard the sound again. It was an ululation over by the seashore-- and now the next savage answered and the next. The cry swept by him across the narrow end of the island from sea to lagoon, like the cry of a flying bird. He took no time to consider but grabbed his sharp stick and wriggled back among the ferns. Within seconds he was worming his way into the thicket; but not before he had glimpsed the legs of a savage coming toward him. The ferns were thumped and beaten and he heard legs moving in the long grass. The savage, whoever he was, ululated twice; and the cry was repeated in both directions, then died away. Ralph crouched still, tangled in the ferns, and for a time he heard nothing.
-
- At last he examined the thicket itself. Certainly no one could attack him here--and moreover he had a stroke of luck. The great rock that had killed Piggy had bounded into this thicket and bounced there, right in the center, making a smashed space a few feet in extent each way. When Ralph had wriggled into this he felt secure, and clever. He sat down carefully among the smashed stems and waited for the hunt to pass. Looking up between the leaves he caught a glimpse of something red. That must be the top of the Castle Rock, distant and unmenacing. He composed himself triumphantly, to hear the sounds of the hunt dying away.
-
- Yet no one made a sound; and as the minutes passed, in the green shade, his feeling of triumph faded.
-
- At last he heard a voice--Jack's voice, but hushed.
-
- "Are you certain?"
-
- The savage addressed said nothing. Perhaps he made a gesture.
-
- Roger spoke.
-
- "If you're fooling us--"
-
- Immediately after this, there came a gasp, and a squeal of pain. Ralph crouched instinctively. One of the twins was there, outside the thicket, with Jack and Roger.
-
- "You're sure he meant in there?"
-
- The twin moaned faintly and then squealed again.
-
- "He meant he'd hide in there?"
-
- "Yes--yes--oh--!"
-
- Silver laughter scattered among the trees.
-
- So they knew.
-
- Ralph picked up his stick and prepared for battle. But what could they do? It would take them a week to break a path through the thicket; and anyone who wormed his way in would be helpless. He felt the point of his spear with his thumb and grinned without amusement. Whoever tried that would be stuck, squealing like a pig.
-
- They were going away, back to the tower rock. He could hear feet moving and then someone sniggered. There came again that high, bird-like cry that swept along the line. So some were still watching for him; but some--?
-
- There was a long, breathless silence. Ralph found that he had bark in his mouth from the gnawed spear. He stood and peered upwards to the Castle Rock.
-
- As he did so, he heard Jack's voice from the top.
-
- "Heave! Heave! Heave!"
-
- The red rock that he could see at the top of the cliff vanished like a curtain, and he could see figures and blue sky. A moment later the earth jolted, there was a rushing sound in the air, and the top of the thicket was cuffed as with a gigantic hand. The rock bounded on, thumping and smashing toward the beach, while a shower of broken twigs and leaves fell on him. Beyond the thicket, the tribe was cheering.
-
- Silence again.
-
- Ralph put his fingers in his mouth and bit them. There was only one other rock up there that they might conceivably move; but that was half as big as a cottage, big as a car, a tank. He visualized its probable progress with agonizing clearness--that one would start slowly, drop from ledge to ledge, trundle across the neck like an outsize steamroller.
-
- "Heave! Heave! Heave!"
-
- Ralph put down his spear, then picked it up again. He pushed his hair back irritably, took two hasty steps across the little space and then came back. He stood looking at the broken ends of branches.
-
- Still silence.
-
- He caught sight of the rise and fall of his diaphragm and was surprised to see how quickly he was breathing. Just left of center his heart-beats were visible. He put the spear down again.
-
- "Heave! Heave! Heave!"
-
- A shrill, prolonged cheer.
-
- Something boomed up on the red rock, then the earth jumped and began to shake steadily, while the noise as steadily increased. Ralph was shot into the air, thrown down, dashed against branches. At his right hand, and only a few feet away, the whole thicket bent and the roots screamed as they came out of the earth together. He saw something red that turned over slowly as a mill wheel. Then the red thing was past and the elephantine progress diminished toward the sea.
-
- Ralph knelt on the plowed-up soil, and waited for the earth to come back. Presently the white, broken stumps, the split sticks and the tangle of the thicket refocused. There was a kind of heavy feeling in his body where he had watched his own pulse.
-
- Silence again.
-
- Yet not entirely so. They were whispering out there; and suddenly the branches were shaken furiously at two places on his right. The pointed end of a stick appeared. In panic, Ralph thrust his own stick through the crack and struck with all his might.
-
- "Aaa-ah!"
-
- His spear twisted a little in his hands and then he withdrew it again.
-
- "Ooh-ooh--"
-
- Someone was moaning outside and a babble of voices rose. A fierce argument was going on and the wounded savage kept groaning. Then when there was silence, a single voice spoke and Ralph decided that it was not Jack's.
-
- "See? I told you--he's dangerous."
-
- The wounded savage moaned again.
-
- What else? What next?
-
- Ralph fastened his hands round the chewed spear and his hair fell. Someone was muttering, only a few yards away toward the Castle Rock. He heard a savage say "No!" in a shocked voice; and then there was suppressed laughter. He squatted back on his heels and showed his teeth at the wall of branches. He raise his spear, snarled a little, and waited.
-
- Once more the invisible group sniggered. He heard a curious trickling sound and then a louder crepitation as if someone were unwrapping great sheets of cellophane. A stick snapped and he stifled a cough. Smoke was seeping through the branches in white and yellow wisps, the patch of blue sky overhead turned to the color of a storm cloud, and then the smoke billowed round him.
-
- Someone laughed excitedly, and a voice shouted.
-
- "Smoke!"
-
- He wormed his way through the thicket toward the forest, keeping as far as possible beneath the smoke. Presently he saw open space, and the green leaves of the edge of the thicket. A smallish savage was standing between him and the rest of the forest, a savage striped red and white, and carrying a spear. He was coughing and smearing the paint about his eyes with the back of his hand as he tried to see through the increasing smoke. Ralph launched himself like a cat; stabbed, snarling, with the spear, and the savage doubled up. There was a shout from beyond the thicket and then Ralph was running with the swiftness of fear through the undergrowth. He came to a pig-run, followed it for perhaps a hundred yards, and then swerved off. Behind him the ululation swept across the island once more and a single voice shouted three times. He guessed that was the signal to advance and sped away again, till his chest was like fire. Then he flung himself down under a bush and waited for a moment till his breathing steadied. He passed his tongue tentatively over his teeth and lips and heard far off the ululation of the pursuers.
-
- There were many things he could do. He could climb a tree; but that was putting all his eggs in one basket. If he were detected, they had nothing more difficult to do than wait.
-
- If only one had time to think!
-
- Another double cry at the same distance gave him a clue to their plan. Any savage balked in the forest would utter the double shout and hold up the line till he was free again. That way they might hope to keep the cordon unbroken right across the island. Ralph thought of the boar that had broken through them with such ease. If necessary, when the chase came too close, he could charge the cordon while it was still thin, burst through, and run back. But run back where? The cordon would turn and sweep again. Sooner or later he would have to sleep or eat--and then he would awaken with hands clawing at him; and the hunt would become a running down.
-
- What was to be done, then? The tree? Burst the line like a boar? Either way the choice was terrible.
-
- A single cry quickened his heart-beat and, leaping up, he dashed away toward the ocean side and the thick jungle till he was hung up among creepers; he stayed there for a moment with his calves quivering. If only one could have quiet, a long pause, a time to think!
-
- And there again, shrill and inevitable, was the ululation sweeping across the island. At that sound he shied like a horse among the creepers and ran once more till he was panting. He flung himself down by some ferns. The tree, or the charge? He mastered his breathing for a moment, wiped his mouth, and told himself to be calm. Samneric were somewhere in that line, and hating it. Or were they? And supposing, instead of them, he met the chief, or Roger who carried death in his hands?
-
- Ralph pushed back his tangled hair and wiped the sweat out of his best eye. He spoke aloud.
-
- "Think."
-
- What was the sensible thing to do?
-
- There was no Piggy to talk sense. There was no solemn assembly for debate nor dignity of the conch.
-
- "Think."
-
- Most, he was beginning to dread the curtain that might waver in his brain, blacking out the sense of danger, making a simpleton of him.
-
- A third idea would be to hide so well that the advancing line would pass without discovering him.
-
- He jerked his head off the ground and listened. There was another noise to attend to now, a deep grumbling noise, as though the forest itself were angry with him, a somber noise across which the ululations were scribbled excruciatingly as on slate. He knew he had heard it before somewhere, but had no time to remember.
-
- Break the line.
-
- A tree.
-
- Hide, and let them pass.
-
- A nearer cry stood him on his feet and immediately he was away again, running fast among thorns and brambles. Suddenly he blundered into the open, found himself again in that open space--and there was the fathom-wide grin of the skull, no longer ridiculing a deep blue patch of sky but jeering up into a blanket of smoke. Then Ralph was running beneath trees, with the grumble of the forest explained. They had smoked him out and set the island on fire.
-
- Hide was better than a tree because you had a chance of breaking the line if you were discovered.
-
- Hide, then.
-
- He wondered if a pig would agree, and grimaced at nothing. Find the deepest thicket, the darkest hole on the island, and creep in. Now, as he ran, he peered about him. Bars and splashes of sunlight flitted over him and sweat made glistening streaks on his dirty body. The cries were far now, and faint.
-
- At last he found what seemed to him the right place, though the decision was desperate. Here, bushes and a wild tangle of creeper made a mat that kept out all the light of the sun. Beneath it was a space, perhaps a foot high, though it was pierced everywhere by parallel and rising stems. If you wormed into the middle of that you would be five yards from the edge, and hidden, unless the savage chose to lie down and look for you; and even then, you would be in darkness--and if the worst happened and he saw you, then you had a chance to burst out at him, fling the whole line out of step and double back.
-
- Cautiously, his stick trailing behind him, Ralph wormed between the rising stems. When he reached the middle of the mat he lay and listened.
-
- The fire was a big one and the drum-roll that he had thought was left so far behind was nearer. Couldn't a fire outrun a galloping horse? He could see the sun-splashed ground over an area of perhaps fifty yards from where he lay, and as he watched, the sunlight in every patch blinked at him. This was so like the curtain that flapped in his brain that for a moment he thought the blinking was inside him. But then the patches blinked more rapidly, dulled and went out, so that he saw that a great heaviness of smoke lay between the island and the sun.
-
- If anyone peered under the bushes and chanced to glimpse human flesh it might be Samneric who would pretend not to see and say nothing. He laid his cheek against the chocolate-colored earth, licked his dry lips and closed his eyes. Under the thicket, the earth was vibrating very slightly; or perhaps there was a sound beneath the obvious thunder of the fire and scribbled ululations that was too low to hear.
-
- Someone cried out. Ralph jerked his cheek off the earth and looked into the dulled light. They must be near now, he thought, and his chest began to thump. Hide, break the line, climb a tree--which was the best after all? The trouble was you only had one chance.
-
- Now the fire was nearer; those volleying shots were great limbs, trunks even, bursting. The fools! The fools! The fire must be almost at the fruit trees--what would they eat tomorrow?
-
- Ralph stirred restlessly in his narrow bed. One chanced nothing! What could they do? Beat him? So what? Kill him? A stick sharpened at both ends.
-
- The cries, suddenly nearer, jerked him up. He could see a striped savage moving hastily out of a green tangle, and coming toward the mat where he hid, a savage who carried a spear. Ralph gripped his fingers into the earth. Be ready now, in case.
-
- Ralph fumbled to hold his spear so that it was point foremost; and now he saw that the stick was sharpened at both ends.
-
- The savage stopped fifteen yards away and uttered his cry.
-
- Perhaps he can hear my heart over the noises of the fire. Don't scream. Get ready.
-
- The savage moved forward so that you could only see him from the waist down. That was the butt of his spear. Now you could see him from the knee down. Don't scream.
-
- A herd of pigs came squealing out of the greenery behind the savage and rushed away into the forest. Birds were screaming, mice shrieking, and a little hopping thing came under the mat and cowered.
-
- Five yards away the savage stopped, standing right by the thicket, and cried out. Ralph drew his feet up and crouched. The stake was in his hands, the stake sharpened at both ends, the stake that vibrated so wildly, that grew long, short, light, heavy, light again.
-
- The ululation spread from shore to shore. The savage knelt down by the edge of the thicket, and there were lights flickering in the forest behind him. You could see a knee disturb the mold. Now the other. Two hands. A spear.
-
- A face.
-
- The savage peered into the obscurity beneath the thicket. You could tell that he saw light on this side and on that, but not in the middle--there. In the middle was a blob of dark and the savage wrinkled up his face, trying to decipher the darkness.
-
- The seconds lengthened. Ralph was looking straight into the savage's eyes.
-
- Don't scream.
-
- You'll get back.
-
- Now he's seen you. He's making sure. A stick sharpened.
-
- Ralph screamed, a scream of fright and anger and desperation. His legs straightened, the screams became continuous and foaming. He shot forward, burst the thicket, was in the open, screaming, snarling, bloody. He swung the stake and the savage tumbled over; but there were others coming toward him, crying out. He swerved as a spear flew past and then was silent, running. All at once the lights flickering ahead of him merged together, the roar of the forest rose to thunder and a tall bush directly in his path burst into a great fan-shaped flame. He swung to the right, running desperately fast, with the heat beating on his left side and the fire racing forward like a tide. The ululation rose behind him and spread along, a series of short sharp cries, the sighting call. A brown figure showed up at his right and fell away. They were all running, all crying out madly. He could hear them crashing in the undergrowth and on the left was the hot, bright thunder of the fire. He forgot his wounds, his hunger and thirst, and became fear; hopeless fear on flying feet, rushing through the forest toward the open beach. Spots jumped before his eyes and turned into red circles that expanded quickly till they passed out of sight. Below him someone's legs were getting tired and the desperate ululation advanced like a jagged fringe of menace and was almost overhead.
-
- He stumbled over a root and the cry that pursued him rose even higher. He saw a shelter burst into flames and the fire flapped at his right shoulder and there was the glitter of water. Then he was down, rolling over and over in the warm sand, crouching with arm to ward off, trying to cry for mercy.
-
- 
-
- He staggered to his feet, tensed for more terrors, and looked up at a huge peaked cap. It was a white-topped cap, and above the green shade of the peak was a crown, an anchor, gold foliage. He saw white drill, epaulettes, a revolver, a row of gilt buttons down the front of a uniform.
-
- A naval officer stood on the sand, looking down at Ralph in wary astonishment. On the beach behind him was a cutter, her bows hauled up and held by two ratings. In the stern-sheets another rating held a sub-machine gun.
-
- The ululation faltered and died away.
-
- The officer looked at Ralph doubtfully for a moment, then took his hand away from the butt of the revolver.
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- "Hullo."
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- Squirming a little, conscious of his filthy appearance, Ralph answered shyly.
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- "Hullo."
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- The officer nodded, as if a question had been answered.
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- "Are there any adults--any grownups with you?"
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- Dumbly, Ralph shook his head. He turned a halfpace on the sand. A semicircle of little boys, their bodies streaked with colored clay, sharp sticks in their hands, were standing on the beach making no noise at all.
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- "Fun and games," said the officer.
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- The fire reached the coconut palms by the beach and swallowed them noisily. A flame, seemingly detached, swung like an acrobat and licked up the palm heads on the platform. The sky was black.
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- The officer grinned cheerfully at Ralph.
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- "We saw your smoke. What have you been doing? Having a war or something?"
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- Ralph nodded.
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- The officer inspected the little scarecrow in front of him. The kid needed a bath, a haircut, a nose-wipe and a good deal of ointment.
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- "Nobody killed, I hope? Any dead bodies?"
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- "Only two. And they've gone."
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- The officer leaned down and looked closely at Ralph.
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- "Two? Killed?"
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- Ralph nodded again. Behind him, the whole island was shuddering with flame. The officer knew, as a rule, when people were telling the truth. He whistled softly.
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- Other boys were appearing now, tiny tots some of them, brown, with the distended bellies of small savages. One of them came close to the officer and looked up.
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- "I'm, I'm--"
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- But there was no more to come. Percival Wemys Madison sought in his head for an incantation that had faded clean away.
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- The officer turned back to Ralph.
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- "We'll take you off. How many of you are there?"
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- Ralph shook his head. The officer looked past him to the group of painted boys.
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- "Who's boss here?"
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- "I am," said Ralph loudly.
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- A little boy who wore the remains of an extraordinary black cap on his red hair and who carried the remains of a pair of spectacles at his waist, started forward, then changed his mind and stood still.
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- "We saw your smoke. And you don't know how many of you there are?"
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- "No, sir."
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- "I should have thought," said the officer as he visualized the search before him, "I should have thought that a pack of British boys--you're all British, aren't you?--would have been able to put up a better show than that--I mean--"
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- "It was like that at first," said Ralph, "before things--"
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- He stopped.
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- "We were together then--"
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- The officer nodded helpfully.
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- "I know. Jolly good show. Like the Coral Island."
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- Ralph looked at him dumbly. For a moment he had a fleeting picture of the strange glamour that had once invested the beaches. But the island was scorched up like dead wood--Simon was dead--and Jack had. . . . The tears began to flow and sobs shook him. He gave himself up to them now for the first time on the island; great, shuddering spasms of grief that seemed to wrench his whole body. His voice rose under the black smoke before the burning wreckage of the island; and infected by that emotion, the other little boys began to shake and sob too. And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.
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- The officer, surrounded by these noises, was moved and a little embarrassed. He turned away to give them time to pull themselves together; and waited, allowing his eyes to rest on the trim cruiser in the distance.
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- Notes on Lord of the Flies *
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- ((*The above Notes pretend to be no more than a series of reflections on aspects of LORD OF THE FLIES. An exhaustive study of its symbolism has not yet been attempted.))
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- In answer to a publicity questionnaire from the American publishers of LORD OF THE FLIES, William Golding (born Cornwall, 1911) declared that he was brought up to be a scientist, and revolted; after two years of Oxford he changed his educational emphasis from science to English literature, and became devoted to Anglo-Saxon. After publishing a volume of poetry he "wasted the next four years," and when Word War II broke out he joined the Royal Navy. For the next five years he was involved in naval matters except for a few months inNew York and six months with Lord Cherwell in a "research establishment." He finished his naval career as a lieutenant in command of a rocket ship; he had seen action against battleships, submarines and aircraft, and had participated in theWalcheren and D-Day operations. After the war he began teaching and writing. Today, his novels include LORD OF THE FLIES (Coward-McCann), THE INHERITORS (which may loosely be described as a novel of prehistory but is, like all of Golding's work, much more), and PINCHER MARTIN published in hardcover by Harcourt Brace as THE TWO DEATHS OF CHRISTOPHER MARTIN). He lists his Hobbies as thinking, classical Greek, sailing and archaeology, and his Literary Influences as Euripides and the anonymous Anglo-Saxon author of THE BATTLE OF MALDON.
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- The theme of LORD OF THE FLIES is described by Golding as follows (in the same publicity questionnaire): "The theme is an attempt to trace the defects of society back to the defects of human nature. The moral is that the shape of a society must depend on the ethical nature of the individual and not on any political system however apparently logical or respectable. The whole book is symbolic in nature except the rescue in the end where adult life appears, dignified and capable, but in reality enmeshed in the same evil as the symbolic life of the children on the island. The officer, having interrupted a man-hunt, prepares to take the children off the island in a cruiser which will presently be hunting its enemy in the same implacable way. And who will rescue the adult and his cruiser?"
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- This is, of course, merely a casual summing-up on Mr. Golding's part of his extremely complex and beautifully woven symbolic web which becomes apparent as we follow through the book, but it does indicate that LORD OF THE FLIES is not, to say the least, a simple adventure story of boys on a desert island. In fact, the implications of the story go far beyond the degeneration of a few children. What is unique about the work of Golding is the way he has combined and synthesized all of the characteristically twentieth-century methods of analysis of the human being and human society and used this unified knowledge to comment on a "test situation." In this book, as in few others at the present time, are findings of psychoanalysis of all schools, anthropologists, social psychologists and philosophical historians mobilized into an attack upon the central problem of modern thought: the nature of the human personality and the reflection of personality on society.
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- Another feature of Golding's work is the superb use of symbolism, a symbolism that "works." The central symbol itself, the "lord of the flies," is, like any true symbol, much more than the sum of its parts; but some elements of it may be isolated. The "lord of the flies" is a translation of the Hebrew Ba'alzevuv (Beelzebub in Greek). It has been suggested that it was a mistranslation of a mistransliterated word which gave us this pungent and suggestive name for the Devil, a devil whose name suggests that he is devoted to decay, destruction, demoralization, hysteria and panic and who therefore fits in very well with Golding's theme.
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- The Devil is not present in any traditional religious sense; Golding's Beelzebub is the modern equivalent, the anarchic, amoral, driving force that Freudians call the Id, whose only function seems to be to insure the survival of the host in which it is embedded or embodied, which function it performs with tremendous and single-minded tenacity. Although it is possible to find other names for this force, the modern picture of the personality, whether drawn by theologians or psychoanalysts, inevitably includes this force or psychic structure as the fundamental principle of the Natural Man. The tenets of civilization, the moral and social codes, the Ego, the intelligence itself, form only a veneer over this white-hot power, this uncontrollable force, "the fury and the mire of human veins." Dostoievsky found salvation in this freedom, although he found damnation in it also. Yeats found in it the only source of creative genius ("Whatever flames upon the night, Man's own resinous heart has fed."). Conrad was appalled by this "heart of darkness," and existentialists find in the denial of this freedom the source of perversion of all human values. Indeed one could, if one were so minded, go through the entire canon of modern literature, philosophy and psychology and find this great basic drive defined as underlying the most fundamental conclusions of modem thought.
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- The emergence of this concealed, basic wildness is the theme of the book; the struggle between Ralph, the representative of civilization with his parliaments and his brain trust (Piggy, the intellectual whose shattering spectacles mark the progressive decay of rational influence as the story progresses), and Jack, in whom the spark of wildness burns hotter and closer to the surface than in Ralph and who is the leader of the forces of anarchy on the island, is also, of course, the struggle in modern society between those same forces translated onto a worldwide scale.
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- The turning point in the struggle between Ralph and Jack is the killing of the sow (pp. 133--144). The sow is a mother: "sunk in deep maternal bliss lay the largest of the lot . . . the great bladder of her belly was fringed with a row of piglets that slept or burrowed and squeaked." The killing of the sow is accomplished in terms of sexual intercourse.
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- They were just behind her when she staggered into an open
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- space where bright flowers grew and butterflies danced round each
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- other and the air was hot and still.
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- Here, struck down by the heat, the sow fell and the
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- hunters hurled themselves at her. This dreadful eruption from an
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- unknown world made her frantic; she squealed and bucked and the
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- air was full of sweat and noise and blood and terror. Roger ran
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- round the heap, prodding with his spear whenever pigflesh
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- appeared. Jack was on top of the sow, stabbing downward with his
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- knife. Roger (a natural sadist, who becomes the "official"
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- torturer and executioner for the tribe) found a lodgment for his
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- point and began to push till he was leaning with his whole weight.
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- The spear moved forward inch by inch, and the terrified squealing
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- became a high-pitched scream. Then Jack found the throat and the
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- hot blood spouted over his hands. The sow collapsed under them and
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- they were heavy and fulfilled upon her. The butterflies still
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- danced, preoccupied in the center of the clearing.
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- The pig's head is cut off; a stick is sharpened at both ends and "jammed in a crack" in the earth. (The death planned for Ralph at the end of the book involves a stick sharpened at both ends.) The pig's head is impaled on the stick; ". . . the head hung there, a little blood dribbling down the stick. Instinctively the boys drew back too; and the forest was very still. They listened, and the loudest noise was the buzzing of flies over the spilled guts." Jack offers this grotesque trophy to "the Beast," the terrible animal that the littler children had been dreaming of, and which seems to be lurking on the island wherever they were not looking. The entire incident forms a horrid parody of an Oedipal wedding night; these emotions, the sensations aroused by murder and death, and the overpowering and unaccustomed emotions of sexual love experienced by the half-grown boys, plus their own irrational fears and blind terrors, release the forces of death and the devil on the island.
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- After this occurs the most deeply symbolic incident in the book, the "interview" of Simon, an embryo mystic, with the head. The head seems to be saying, to Simon's heightened perceptions, that "everything was a bad business. . . . The half-shut eyes were dim with the infinite cynicism of adult life." Simon fights with all his feeble power against the message of the head, against the "ancient, inescapable recognition," the recognition of human capacities for evil and the superficial nature of human moral systems. It is the knowledge of the end of innocence, for which Ralph is to weep at the close of the book. "'Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill!' said the head. For a moment or two the forest and all the other dimly appreciated places echoes with the parody of laughter. 'You knew, didn't you? I'm part of you? Close, close, close! I'm the reason why it's no go? Why things are what they are?'"
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- At the end of this fantastic scene Simon imagines he is looking into a vast mouth. "There was blackness within, a blackness that spread. . . . Simon was inside the mouth. He fell down and lost consciousness." This mouth, * the symbol of ravenous, unreasoning and eternally insatiable nature, appears again in PINCHER MARTIN, in which the development of the theme of a Nature inimical to the conscious personality of man is developed in a stunning fashion. In LORD OF THE FLIES, however, only the outline of a philosophy is sketched, and the boys of the island are figures in a parable or fable which like all great parables or fables reveals to the reader an intimate, disquieting connection between the innocent, time-passing, story-telling aspect of its surface and the great, "dimly appreciated" depths of its interior.
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- ((* cf. Conrad's "Heart of Darkness": "I saw (the dying Kurtz) open his mouth wide--it gave him a weirdly voracious aspect, as though he wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before him." Indeed Golding seems very close to Conrad, both in basic principles and in artistic method.))
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- --E. L. Epstein
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