Metal Swarm - Kevin J. Anderson [190]
As if Robb had heard her, the EDF Remora roared in, flying so low to the ground that he practically scraped the rocks and grasses. Tasia had already provided a homing signal, and now she tossed two bright flaresticks into the flat area she had chosen for him. He could land safely here, but if the bugs were watching, they would detect the EDF ship She had to hope they were too busy with Davlin's diversion.
Perfectly timed, a second flurry of explosions went off, burying the Klikiss warriors that had come to investigate the first round of sabotage.
Robb's Remora used back-thrusters to hover above the flattened grasses, spraying pebbles as it settled to the ground next to where Tasia and Nikko stood waving. He sprang out of the cockpit and opened the underbelly hatch. ‘Here I am, ready or not. Got the fuel?'
Tasia and Nikko used the anti-grav lifters to wrestle the unwieldy barrels forward. ‘Come on, come on!' she called.
Robb helped them heft the barrels into the cargo bay. ‘Where's Davlin?'
As soon as they stowed the fuel containers inside the Remora, Nikko pulled himself into the stripped-down interior. Tasia looked over her shoulder, trying to guess how many seconds they could afford to wait. It would soon reach a crisis point. They all looked nervously out into the twilight.
Davlin jogged up, not even out of breath. He wore a barely disguised grin. ‘The Klikiss are busy enough now. We can fly out of here at our leisure.'
Tasia said, ‘Thanks, but I'll take my leisure back at the caves.'
When they were aboard the Remora with the fuel barrels securely lashed down, Robb fired up the engines again, raised the ship into the air, and streaked back toward the sandstone bluffs. As far as Tasia could tell, the Klikiss hadn't noticed a thing.
Behind them, the insects crawled over the collapsing towers and began to rebuild like ants after a downpour.
One hundred and sixteen
Denn Peroni
II hey were cramped together in the cockpit for days, flying a tanker full of nebula wentals, and not once did Denn let Caleb Tamblyn get on his nerves. The grizzled old man had never seen Denn look so contented, happy, or excited about anything abstract - especially not a philosophy.
‘I always had you pegged for a no-nonsense businessman, Denn. You look at the bottom line, add up profits and losses, determine efficient trade routes. By the Guiding Star, isn't that why Del Kellum asked you to run his shipyards?'
‘None of that has changed, but I understand so much more now, things I never saw before.' Denn smiled, mainly for himself. ‘And if I play my cards right, I can make even greater profits and manage my shipyard workers, my captains, and my facilities at higher efficiency. You should have seen how Tabitha Huck turned the Ildirans into a well-oiled machine. It was nothing short of a revelation. The Guiding Star is like a candle flame compared to this.'
‘Whatever you say. Just as long as you don't start quoting poetry to me.'
‘I doubt I could convert you if I wanted to, Caleb Tamblyn. Your skull's too thick for the to penetrate. But if you're interested, I could find someone to try it on you.' He looked hopefully at his friend.
‘No thanks. Don't need it.'
Inside the cruising tanker, the energized wentals fused and flowed into one life force, restored from their long nebular exile. The water beings were connected as part of a common entity, yet they also had subgroupings, like families. The wentals in this ship, now alive, intact, and resynthesized, were eager to begin propagating, to share their energy and knowledge. Jess and Cesca had been right to give Denn this task. He felt honoured.
His daughter had suggested, and the Roamers heartily agreed, that the new wentals be taken to Jonah 12 with the other wentals they had recently deposited there. Denn had cheerfully volunteered to go