Genellan: Planetfall

"Again," Longo said. "I must ask that you speak one at a time and slowly… so the translator can operate effectively.. for my benefit." He looked at both of them. "Allow me to continue…Master Huhsawn, Lieutenant Sharl has expressed her desire…to fully cooperate with my government. That is also your desire. Yes?"

Hudson shot back an answer in the alien tongue even as the box was asking the question."…Excellent Colonel," the box partially translated Hudson's words. "What is it that you wish us to do?"

Colonel Longo stared angrily at Hudson. He turned to Buccari.

"This location is not conducive to establishing relationship… that my government wishes to have with your race. Cold and remote.. I have been ordered to relocate all humans to Goldmine Station… where it will be much easier to communicate… Your race is hardy, but you will be more comfortable in a southern climate… and we have a domed facility that you may use… Huhsawn will attest to the comforts of our base."

Buccari tried to think. The fleet was back! The fleet was back! That thought pounded through her consciousness. She forced herself back to the moment. She had to deal with the present— dreams would come later. She listened as Longo repeated himself. She knew the kones would ask them to relocate. It made sense—from the kones' point of view. She looked at Hudson, trying to gauge his expression. There was much unsaid.

"When and how do we accomplish this relocation?" Buccari asked, trepidation growing strong within her breast. The fleet was back. Everything was different.

"There are nineteen humans, is that not correct?"

"Yes, nineteen, er—no! Twenty," answered Buccari. She looked at Hudson. "Lee had a baby girl." Longo tilted his head curiously.

"Now! This day. We act on this day," Longo continued. "I have the means to lift your group… I have but to bring down another module… Of course, that will mean another very loud arrival… All can avoid danger by moving into the landers already on the ground… They are soundproof."

The translator cranked out Longo' s words like assembly-line cookies, with no inflection or accent, no tone, no emotion, but the words were sinister—the spider talking to the fly. Buccari looked down at her ash-blackened feet and contemplated a simpler life. She desperately missed flying spaceships. Cheating death on a day-to-day basis as the pilot of a complex and powerful spacecraft was so much simpler than facing death even once with your feet planted firmly on the ground. Pain and death came slowly on the ground. She shook herself from her confused trance.

"Colonel Longo," she said, her voice firm. "We will comply with your recommendation."

Longo put his hands together and turned away, a look of satisfaction on his face. Buccari continued talking before he could give orders.

"However," she said, a corner of her brain frantically formulating a plan, "your landing was of such violence.. that most of my people have fled. It will take several hours, if not days…to retrieve them. Is it possible to schedule another meeting at first light tomorrow morning? I will have everyone assembled at that time…or at least be able to give you a better estimate of exactly when we will be ready."

Longo deliberated Buccari's request.

Hudson spoke up quickly, in konish.

"Most excellent Colonel," the box translated his words into Legion. "Et Silmarn will be of assistance in providing assurance to our people. He is well known and trusted. Would you not allow him to come with us?"

Buccari nodded at Hudson's words. They had reseized the initiative.

Qui

"Lander's clear," the EPL pilot reported.

"Roger," Carmichael answered. "Reentry window in ten minutes. Let's look sharp. We may not have too many chances to get on the ground. You're cleared for retroburn."

"Aye, Skipper," the pilot replied. "Checking good."

"Commander Qui

"I understand, Commander," she replied. "And thanks."

"I urge-ah caution," Et Silmarn said as they marched over the cinders. "Colonel Longo wishes your people to walk-ah onto his lander. Letting Huhsawn and me go is…gamble. Longo think it-ah make him look-ah honest. Is good gamble. Where I go without-ah compressor fuel?"

Buccari glanced over her shoulder. Longo stood watching them.

"Where's the fleet, Nash?" she asked. "In orbit? How many ships?"

"Can't be sure, Sharl," Hudson replied. "Kateos says at least one corvette is in orbit. I tried to get a message out, but there's no way of knowing if it was received."

They marched over the devastated ground. Her exultation at the fleet's return had dampened; the realities of their predicament were overwhelming.

"Can't trust Longo," Buccari said. She set her jaw and stared straight ahead; but he fleet's return had changed the equation. Rescue was now a possibility.

"Longo is up to something, Sharl," Hudson said. "He threw Dowornobb and Kateos in the brig and tried to prevent me from communicating. His sincerity needs a lot of work."

"Colonel Longo speak-ah for my government-ah," Et Silmarn said. "To my government-ah you are threat-ah. You will be attacked."

"We didn't attack your planet!" Hudson almost shouted. "But-ah can you prove it-ah?" Et Silmarn asked.

"No, of course not," Buccari said. "Not without time and the ability to communicate with our ships."

"Not-ah matter," Et Silmarn said. "The governments of my planet-ah will not-ah wait-ah. They have taken vows to destroy all attackers."

As they crossed the blackened land, Buccari juggled the implications of the noblekone' s warning. They rendezvoused with Wilson on the blasted and littered beach and moved faster, their withdrawal obscured by forest. MacArthur and Chastain were farther down the beach. Buccari started jogging, collecting the Marines on the run. Passing MacArthur, she was startled by the cracking wings of a cliff dweller taking flight from a nearby tree.

"Tonto," MacArthur said, shaking Hudson's hand. "He's worried too."

"The fleet's back, Mac," Buccari said, and her eyes welled with tears. No one noticed.

Chapter 41. Confrontation

Runacres stared at the quiescent status panels. Fleet radars were suppressed, and passive detectors revealed no alien signals— no radars, no lasers, no electromagnetic transmissions on any wavelength. Nothing, for weeks now. Runacres was anxious to get Qui

"Admiral, Peregrine has activity on visual sensors," the tactical officer reported. They have confirmed objects eclipsing stars."

"Identification? Any trajectory estimate?" Runacres asked. "No, sir. Attempting to develop parallax triangulation." "Has Peregrine launched her EPL?" Runacres asked.

"Apple's out of the bay. Approaching envelope. Retroburn imminent."

"Keep me informed," Runacres ordered.

"Aye, aye, Admiral."

Runacres stared at the blank situation plots. He could ill afford to wait. His best strategy was to engage early, picking off attackers at long range.