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BeBob was fumbling to put on his suit. "Yeah, but they're being guided by that demon woman. And she really doesn't seem the forgetful type."

"How can they climb up the shaft? They're just worms."

"Worms with very pointy teeth." He fastened his belt, connected the air regulator. "Didn't you see how easily they slithered up the walls in the grotto?"

"You've got a cheery answer for everything, don't you?" Rlinda struggled with her too-small suit, getting both feet inside but not making much more progress than that. "I'm going to need your help with this, BeBob."

"As soon as I figure the suit out for myself," he answered, still fumbling with the unfamiliar garment. He pulled his arms into the sleeves, attached one of the gloves, then nodded. "Not like Hansa designs, but it's a lot easier to don."

"We need to be all dressed and ready to go as soon as we reach the surface." Once they cycled through the external airlock, they could run across the ice to the waiting Curiosity. Already she imagined they were home free. "I sure hope we can take off before the ice ceiling collapses beneath us."

She tugged on the reinforced multilayer fabric, working her way into the suit. It wasn't quite stretchy enough. BeBob, who was mostly dressed except for his helmet and left glove, worked with her, massaging her into the constricting legs and sleeves.

"I was never a big fan of formfitting garments," Rlinda said.

Beneath the lift's floor, a bone-chilling sound grew louder . . . whispery, like wet socks being swirled in a glass bottle. BeBob looked at his feet. "They're climbing up the shaft after us."

"Actually, I think they got to one of the lift-stage platforms. Now they've crawled onto the reinforcement struts on our undercarriage."

"In other words, they're right under our feet." He looked down, alarmed. She pulled his attention back to helping her with the suit. BeBob swallowed hard. "Maybe it's only one or two of them."

The first one struck the underside of the lift chamber with enough force to make a visible dent in the inner floor. The lift lurched, then slowed as if suddenly weighted down. "Uh, Rlinda . . ."

"Let me think a minute, BeBob."

With another slam, several more nematodes smashed into the elevator and anchored themselves to the pipes and struts beneath the lifting chamber. Then came a chilling scraping sound as the worms, with their small diamond teeth, began to chew through the metal floor.

40

GENERAL KURT LANYAN

With each passing second, the stolen battle group got farther away.

General Lanyan leaned forward on the uncomfortable bench of the troop transport racing after the Grid 0 ships. "You sure this is our best speed, Mr. Carrera? We've got a tough job ahead of us." Though the kleebs had completed plenty of simulations, he feared they weren't ready for blood-in-the-face combat. Today, they damned well needed to be.

"Doing my best, sir." Sweat glistened on his forehead. "But if we pull too far ahead of the others, our ship will be a vulnerable target. The Soldier compies could decide to do a little practice shooting with their jazers."

Lanyan grumbled. "So noted. Keep everyone together, but keep hauling ass." They'd been under heavy acceleration for an hour, and already it seemed like forever. His pulse pounded, his mind intense as he turned his full attention to the hunt.

While Ensign Carrera concentrated on flying, Lanyan activated the short-range comm and transmitted to all ships in his makeshift cavalry. "Somebody give me a full inventory. Ships and weapons. We need to make our first punch a knockout blow." He could sense their uneasiness. "Come on, you've drilled this often enough! Power all jazer banks to full strength, even on approach. Make sure our shaped charges, fraks, and slammers are ready to go."

"Is it going to be enough, General?" said the nearest kleeb, an innocent-faced redhead with a rash of freckles on his cheeks.

"Of course it is."

Requests for immediate reinforcements