Beowulf's Children

No one spoke as the skeeters leveled out and dove, crossing the two kilometers to the camp in about ninety seconds. Robor's Chinese-dragon shape leered up at them, its red fringes rippling slowly in the wind.

There was nothing. Nothing...

And then Jessica whispered, "Oh dear God." Bones. Human bones. Animal bones. Aaron said, "I see three skeletons. Two human. One canine." His voice still held a machine precision. He was speaking for Cassandra, for Edgar back at Camelot. For whoever might have tapped into the line, and was now sick with concern.

Her mind reeled. Grief and fear and raw hatred boiled within her like lava. Her vision clouded. She gripped the handbar in front of her as if a moment's loss of concentration would tumble her off the edge of the world.

Justin's voice was arctic. "What do you see on the movement sensors?

Any thermal flares?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing," Aaron agreed.

Justin's voice was labored. He sounded like some kind of animal straining in a trap. "I don't see any sign of the baby. Of Cadzie."

A trapdoor opened in the back of her mind. She felt herself slide a little ways down, then clawed her way back up. What waited at the bottom of that pit bore fangs and claws, and was ravenously hungry.

"No sign. Not yet." And what she didn't say, what she couldn't say, was Cadzie is barely a mouthful for a grendel.

They hovered almost directly over the glade. Skeletons. The mining dome. A dozen yards distant, the refinery shack. The dirigible. And that was all.

Aaron snapped out the trance first. "Cassandra, replay Sat Twelve, during or just prior to the incident."

Jessica slipped on a pair of goggles, and watched while the images played. Ru

Bones.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Jessica muttered. "That was no grendel."

"It wasn't anything." Aaron was shaken. "It was invisible."

Camelot was awake, and gathering in the main hall.

Carlos tore at a scrap of ragged flesh at the corner of his thumb. The satellite feed kept playing it over and over again, enhanced with thermals, to full magnification, giving the illusion that the couple was no more than a hundred meters away.

Impossibly far away. A world away.

Justin's voice came over the speaker. "This is Skeeter Two. We are holding at seventy feet. We see skeletons. There's nothing alive down there that we can see. Nothing we can do to help them. Need instructions."

Zack touched his collar. "Moskowitz. Did you say skeletons?"

"Yes, sir. Two human skeletons. One canine," Aaron said.

Zack was u

"Motion sensors detect nothing," Aaron said. "And we see nothing—wait one. There is a small skeleton in the rocks about twenty meters above the camp."

"Human?"

"No, sir, too small. Now I see another. There are two small skeletons.

I would say Joeys from the size."

"You say there's nothing to be done for Joe and Linda?"

"That's my best judgment," Aaron said. "And there's no sign of the baby. "

Zack looked around. "Where's Colonel Weyland?"

"On the way."

"Hold off on landing for a minute, please."

There was no answer. "Please continue reports," Zack said. More colonists streamed into the hall, their voices a roiling cacophony.

"Wha—"

"The hell—"

"Will somebody tell me—"

"Who's up there—"

Still no answer. Zack lowered his voice. "I know that you can hear me. Hold off on landing until we have an assessment—" Carlos tried to imagine what Justin was feeling now. In one sense, he couldn't possibly know. In another, he understood precisely. The entire colony was family, their lives linked as closely as the fingers of a hand. But Linda was Justin's kid sister.

All of their lives, the Second had heard horrific stories. But a thousand stories pale in comparison to a single scream of agony.

The crowd behind them parted as Cadma

He glared at the screen, his face as solid and square as stone. "What happened?"

"Something attacked the minehead," Zack said. "No one knows what."

The second image was a skeeter-eye view of the same scene. Skeeter ID number and pilot registration were etched at the bottom of the screen.

"Justin," Cadma

A long pause.

"Justin! Answer me, dammit." They didn't hear a sound at first, and then Justin's voice rang down to them.

"Jessica. And Aaron." Thank God, Cadma

"We're going down. Dad."

"Hold off on that. We're still sweeping the area."

"We don't see anything. The motion sensors don't pick anything up—"

"They didn't pick anything up twenty minutes ago, either!"

Mary A

Cadma

"Baby!" Mary A

"Cadma

"Roger. Be careful. Secure Robor first."

"We will."

"Is that safe?" Zack demanded.

"They're on the spot," Cadma

"Oh—"

"Cadma

"Father," Jessica said. He almost didn't recognize the voice. He had never heard his daughter sound like that before. "I don't see Cadzie." Her voice was beyond ice, somewhere out in deepest space. The clearing juddered on the wall. "Father, that's Linda down there. And Joe. They're dead. But one dog is missing, and I don't see Cadzie. " He was searching for something to say. What hope was there for his grandson's survival? Almost none. And yet, if there was any chance at all...

"All right," he whispered. "We'll keep watch from here." Then he turned, and held Mary A

Justin watched Jessica touch down without a bump, taking that last couple of inches as carefully as a man stepping onto thin ice.

Aaron dismounted, carrying a grendel gun. Jessica bore a regular hunting rifle, its safety off.

Justin hovered overhead, watching. He wiped his moist hands nervously on his pants. He strove to starve his imagination, to keep focused on each individual moment. Now and Now and Now, and after that, the Now to come.

One careful step at time, Jessica and Aaron Tragon crossed the twenty feet between the autogyro and the skeletons. After each single footstep, she stopped to sense her surroundings. There was no sound except the steady shoop shoop of Justin's skeeter blades above them.

Aaron's gaze locked with hers for a cold moment, and then slid past. Neither of them was willing or able to speak. Her heart thundered loudly in her ears.

Three skeletons—two human and one canine—lay in a rough circle of flattened grass, as if they had thrashed around crazily, fighting, maybe. Fighting what? Where were their clothes? Could they have come ru

Aaron kicked over a small rock that lay beneath the smaller skeleton: