shuddered.
The cabin depressurized in two short, wrenching seconds. He was sucked to the exit and left dangling there, almost broken in half by the security cord that tethered him. The buckle, his belt and the cord all held, however. Bodies, loose objects and frozen chunks of blood splattered his helmet and thudded into his back as they flew out into space.
Theller looked out of the open airlock. There was no outer or inner hatch left. He could see the assault shuttle now, and beyond it loomed one of the huge Mendelian cruisers. Both ships were darkly colored and formed with flat, ugly angles of unpainted metal.
He crawled inside his derelict craft and buckled himself into a chair. The ship was gently spinning, but he did nothing to correct it. He wanted to look as lifeless as possible. He hoped that the alien in the assault shuttle would provide enough of a distraction to keep the enemy ships busy. With some luck, he might be allowed to drift away, forgotten until he was out of laser-battery range.
Ten
The Dominant was impressed yet again. This new host beast was startlingly powerful. She was able to burrow deeply into its broad back and sting the nerves directly this time, giving her a distinct advantage. Direct control of a suitable beast was hers for the first time in centuries! She reveled in the sensation. Goddard’s input organs flooded her with data, and her tendrils sought out his mind to do battle. The creature’s ego was powerful, but it had never been in such a contest before. She overcame it quickly, stuffing the being’s mind down into the depths of the id. She would leave it dreaming down there deep in the subconscious until she dismounted the beast.
With direct control, she was able to do far more than simple actions and gestures. She could control every nuance of her mount, even make it speak in its absurd language, which seemed to her to be an audible set of warbling, blatting noises. She turned the assault ship around, after riffling through Goddard’s memories and stimulating his thick fingers into the appropriate actions. There was no time to lose. She had to dock and firmly gain command of the nearest enemy cruiser. Speed was of the essence when employing tactical surprise. Sooner or later, she would make a misstep and the enemy would begin to suspect. Since she was alone, she could not afford to give them time to react.
She wheeled the assault ship smartly around, allowing the cruiser to suck her up into its yawning launch bay. Around her, the cooling bodies of the assault ship’s crew floated. Glittering like jewels, frozen globules of blood drifted around the cabin.
#
Davenport reflected that the entire mission had turned into a farce. They had planned carefully for a span of three long years, only to meet zero resistance. Just as the intolerable Goddard had predicted, the armed forces of Tranquility were laughable. They had no navy to speak of and had been brushed aside with imperial ease. This annoyed Davenport to no end for two distinct reasons: it made all his planning a ship-wide joke, and it made Goddard right. He was left with the unmistakable title of fool or worse, coward . Neither of these titles pleased him in the slightest. His mood was grim.
When the first of the cruisers exploded, Davenport was shocked. He was sitting in his own command chair on the bridge of Bernard Shaw , which the insufferably arrogant Admiral Goddard had finally relinquished to him some hours ago.
Galton , the lead cruiser in the fleet, suddenly transformed into a ball of bright white light. Davenport’s immediate thought was that he had been right all along. The enemy had clearly laid mines before them. They’d foolishly abandoned his plan to alter course at random. The enemy had lured them in with these absurd patrol boats, getting into their heads, making them overconfident so they would make mistakes. It was all obvious to him now. He shook his fists at the screens and hissed in
The cabin depressurized in two short, wrenching seconds. He was sucked to the exit and left dangling there, almost broken in half by the security cord that tethered him. The buckle, his belt and the cord all held, however. Bodies, loose objects and frozen chunks of blood splattered his helmet and thudded into his back as they flew out into space.
Theller looked out of the open airlock. There was no outer or inner hatch left. He could see the assault shuttle now, and beyond it loomed one of the huge Mendelian cruisers. Both ships were darkly colored and formed with flat, ugly angles of unpainted metal.
He crawled inside his derelict craft and buckled himself into a chair. The ship was gently spinning, but he did nothing to correct it. He wanted to look as lifeless as possible. He hoped that the alien in the assault shuttle would provide enough of a distraction to keep the enemy ships busy. With some luck, he might be allowed to drift away, forgotten until he was out of laser-battery range.
Ten
The Dominant was impressed yet again. This new host beast was startlingly powerful. She was able to burrow deeply into its broad back and sting the nerves directly this time, giving her a distinct advantage. Direct control of a suitable beast was hers for the first time in centuries! She reveled in the sensation. Goddard’s input organs flooded her with data, and her tendrils sought out his mind to do battle. The creature’s ego was powerful, but it had never been in such a contest before. She overcame it quickly, stuffing the being’s mind down into the depths of the id. She would leave it dreaming down there deep in the subconscious until she dismounted the beast.
With direct control, she was able to do far more than simple actions and gestures. She could control every nuance of her mount, even make it speak in its absurd language, which seemed to her to be an audible set of warbling, blatting noises. She turned the assault ship around, after riffling through Goddard’s memories and stimulating his thick fingers into the appropriate actions. There was no time to lose. She had to dock and firmly gain command of the nearest enemy cruiser. Speed was of the essence when employing tactical surprise. Sooner or later, she would make a misstep and the enemy would begin to suspect. Since she was alone, she could not afford to give them time to react.
She wheeled the assault ship smartly around, allowing the cruiser to suck her up into its yawning launch bay. Around her, the cooling bodies of the assault ship’s crew floated. Glittering like jewels, frozen globules of blood drifted around the cabin.
#
Davenport reflected that the entire mission had turned into a farce. They had planned carefully for a span of three long years, only to meet zero resistance. Just as the intolerable Goddard had predicted, the armed forces of Tranquility were laughable. They had no navy to speak of and had been brushed aside with imperial ease. This annoyed Davenport to no end for two distinct reasons: it made all his planning a ship-wide joke, and it made Goddard right. He was left with the unmistakable title of fool or worse, coward . Neither of these titles pleased him in the slightest. His mood was grim.
When the first of the cruisers exploded, Davenport was shocked. He was sitting in his own command chair on the bridge of Bernard Shaw , which the insufferably arrogant Admiral Goddard had finally relinquished to him some hours ago.
Galton , the lead cruiser in the fleet, suddenly transformed into a ball of bright white light. Davenport’s immediate thought was that he had been right all along. The enemy had clearly laid mines before them. They’d foolishly abandoned his plan to alter course at random. The enemy had lured them in with these absurd patrol boats, getting into their heads, making them overconfident so they would make mistakes. It was all obvious to him now. He shook his fists at the screens and hissed in
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