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  Begalli’s ferretlike eyes flicked back and forth over those assembled. “Despite our feelings of loss and frustration, I cannot forget just how correct my projections were about the recessive gene. Something that was quite unlikely. Naturally we’re sorry for the loss… But after years and years, my science seems to be correct.” He tapped his finger emphatically. “What we all want is in that hive. It’s the answer to our dreams… Maybe, ultimately even to the whole alien conflict.”

  “Why would you say that?” said Henrikson.

  “We came here to get the queen mother royal jelly and we’ve got to do that. Do you know how much we’ve been working with in these last two decades? About two hundred gallons’ worth, that’s all. Our tank here can go up to well over two thousand gallons, and I’m sure we can fill it. With that amount to work with, all kinds of possibilities will open up.

  “We can learn something, I suppose, from this red and black alien business. Still it’s all academic curiosity. There are no practical applications yet. With the jelly, those applications may be possible.”

  “Oh, like what?”

  “The key to the genetic control of the aliens! It could be in the queen down there and her royal jelly! Sorry, Mr. Grant, but there’s a lot more at stake here than money for your company, and hyperspeed for the armed forces.” He tapped the table emphatically. “Why do you think the red aliens are attempting genocide on the blacks?”

  “Isn’t it the same old story? They’re different?”

  Begalli shook his head. “You’ve got to have a certain amount of intelligence to be bigoted. The xenos aren’t that smart. No. It’s because on a very real level, the existence of difference threatens each other.

  “Eradication is programmed into the species. I would daresay that in hives every once in a while red eggs are laid—and immediately destroyed by the queen or the queen’s guards. When we removed the queen from the black hive and killed her guards, it probably allowed time for these freakish red eggs already laid to develop and grow… And then escape and build their own hive.”

  “Look, this is all very interesting,” said Kozlowski. “But how is it going to get us past the war going on down there, and into the hive, where we can do our job? And get out with our butts intact, I might add!”

  “Yes,” said Grant ruminatively. “A definite priority.”

  “Let’s look at it this way then,” said Begalli. “What we have here is warfare on a grand scale. Each of these alien races would like to eradicate the other. Annihilate. This mission is deeply embedded in their chromosomal structure.” He shrugged. “Now if we just tilt that warfare in the favor of the blacks, that would be to our definite advantage. We don’t want mutant jelly. We want the black jelly, the stuff we know something about and can use.”

  Hastings’s voice crackled over the radio. “I got lots of great weapons up here, folks. If you want, we can just nuke the red hive.”

  Begalli nodded. “Excellent! That might just work.”

  “How?” Grant asked.

  Kozlowski nodded. “Well, it would kill off the red queen mother for one thing and with her any psychic control of her drones. Which would send the red army into disarray.”

  “More than that,” said Begalli. “Without that control, instinctively the red army would retreat toward their hive. Equally instinctively the black army would pursue!”

  Grant snapped his fingers. “Leaving the black hive wide open!”

  “That would be the theory, yes… It’s the best choice, in my opinion,” said Begalli. “We’d still have to deal with the black guards, and they will be bigger and fiercer. But they would be limited in number. What we’re facing out there is a problem of sheer oppressive volume.”

  Grant smacked the table. “Yes. We’re going to have to do it, I think! Opinion, Colonel?”

  “Sure. Why not. At the very least we’re going to kill a lot of bugs!”

  “Captain. How soon can you have those war-heads ready?” said Grant.

  “Couple of hours,” came the voice.

  “Excellent. We can accomplish this well before nightfall,” said Kozlowski. “Get started, Captain. We can always postpone till morning if necessary.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Hastings. “I’ll get right to it.”

  Grant was nodding, his face intent. “One more thing, Colonel. I’d like to come with you when you go into that hive.”

  “What for?” said Kozlowski. “You’re a civilian. You’re not trained for this kind of work.”

  “I feel responsible here. I feel a moral obligation. You need extra people. I can aim a gun and shoot it. I—”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “I want—” He blinked. “What?”

  “I said you can go. There’s a spare suit about your size down in the holding tank in the locker room. We’ll go over the situation here in a few minutes, I’ll brief you on a few things you’ll have to know… And then you can suit up.”

  Grant’s mouth flapped for a moment like a fish out of water.

  “It’ll be good to have you along, Grant!”

  Henrikson and Begalli excused themselves to start preparations for the next assault.

  “All right, people,” announced Kozlowski. “Now that we’ve got a plan, let’s chew over some details.”

  She felt charged again.

  Those bugs were going to pay.

  Big time.

  * * *

  Kozlowski was letting him go along!

  A few minutes after the hour-long meeting, Daniel Grant was making his way down to the locker room, brain buzzing with the “briefing” that he’d just received. He felt beat up with facts and instructions, as though somehow Kozlowski had put him through a brief but intense boot camp under the whip of Drill Instructor Koz herself. Not fun!

  Not that he wasn’t sincere about wanting to go along.

  He just hadn’t really expected for her to agree to his volunteering.

  Well, nothing for it now, old man. You’re in for the full nine yards now. Play it out, do your job, and this will turn out fine! Just fine!

  He entered the familiar smell of the locker, particularly ripe now from the recent press of ripe bodies that had just passed through.

  Where was it that Kozlowski had said the spare suit was? Oh, yes, over in the cabinet yonder.

  No lock, no latch.

  Sabotage was the last thing on Grant’s mind, he was so preoccupied with the lessons he’d learned about alien killing.

  He opened the door and saw the suit, and reached for it. What he did not see was the alien egg pod sitting in the shadows.

  22

  The thing stood like an obscene, fleshy orchid bulb.

  Grant smelled it before he saw it.

  That now-familiar, intense acidic blast of stench.

  As he reached for the suit, his foot stubbed against the growth. It gave like a stink cabbage.

  He looked down.

  At first, he didn’t want to believe his eyes.

  Then he saw the tangle of talons, wiggling at the opening of the bulb, like the beginnings of a sand crab, emerging from its shell.

  He froze.

  He’d seen alien larvae before, of course. He’d seen them prey on test animals plenty of times. Only they had been behind thick glass at the time… Now this one was mere inches from his face.

  It hissed at him and began to come out faster, bending the petals of its deadly flower as it came.

  “Screeeee!”

  It launched.

  Directly for his face.

  Sheer desperation somehow prized the freeze lock off his muscles. Off to his right was a hanging suit. He reached out, grabbed it, and pulled it between himself and the face-hugger.

  It bounced off it and flopped onto the floor.

  Grant had just enough time to let off a yelp and take a step away from the thing before it animated again, leaping up toward him as though its legs were spring-loaded. As though his face were metal an
d the thing were a magnet, it headed straight for his eyes.

  He reached out and caught it.

  The talonlike claws tore at his skin. The pain shot up his arm, causing him to throw the thing down. It hit the floor, but it had clearly discovered its mission. It jumped around and was about to leap back up at him, when a blur flashed off to the left and a suited foot kicked it square in its crabby ass.

  The thing hit the wall like a hockey puck smacking the sidelines, sluiced along the floor.

  A rifle went up, tracked, sighted.

  Energy sizzled out.

  The blast smacked it like the finger of God, smushing a demon. Some of its acid came out, bubbling a small hole in the floor… But most was consumed in the incendiary blast.

  He stepped back, his legs hit a stool, he sat down hard.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Just my job,” the person said, with bite.

  He looked over to his savior.

  It was Colonel Kozlowski.

  “Looks like one of your pets wandered off the beaten track,” she said, already going for a bucket.

  She put it in a shower stall, started filling it with water. “I’m losing count of the screwups in your ‘harmless’ project, Grant.”

  Grant shook his head. “I don’t understand. I only authorized one creature for incubation.” He drew in a breath, savoring it. “Take a look in the armory closet there!”

  “In a moment.”

  She took the bucket and sluiced the water in the small crater. Hissing steam rose up, and that was that.

  “The closet.”

  Grant nodded. “That’s where the thing came from.”

  She looked and grunted. “Yep. You got yourself a pod here, Grant.”

  “I was the only one not armored, so it’s obvious this thing was planted to get me when I came back here.” He smacked a fist into a palm. “It’s got to be Begalli. He must still be working for those scumbags at MedTech. I want you to put that bastard under arrest—hang him… keelhaul him… something.”

  “Yo! Rein yourself in. Grant. Then come here and take a look at this.”

  Grant walked over reluctantly. He looked in the closet. Kozlowski was pulling something off the side of the pod.

  She pulled it into view.

  “You know what this is, right?”

  In her hand she held some kind of metal clamp, attached to a bottle-shaped thing.

  “Of course,” said Grant. “It’s a timer clamp. It’s used to hold the lips of an egg shut to ensure the creature can’t escape during transportation.”

  “And it automatically falls off when the timer expires,” she continued for him. “The planter is nowhere near the eggs when it activates. Looks like it’s got a motion sensor on it, too. Anyone could have walked into this trap.”

  “So.”

  “So anyone could have planted this egg.” She stood up. “Even me.”

  “This is just a regular chestburster. I did not authorize this to be shipped out. Just that larvae queen.” He shook his head. “I still don’t feel good about that guy Begalli. He’s been acting strangely.”

  Kozlowski sighed. “He seems clean to me. Anyway, he’s the only alien expert in the landing party, and he’s been giving us good information, by my lights.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe you don’t know this, but all radio signals are scrambled by the content of the shell in those hives. Once inside, we’ll have no communication with the lander. We’re going to need that bastard in there more than any other crew member. Without him, this operation is dead in the water. You still want me to bust him?”

  Grant thought about this.

  He didn’t like it, not at all. MedTech could very well be behind this whole sabotage business, and most certainly Begalli had been purchased from MedTech.

  Had they purchased him back?

  Was Foxnall back on Earth rubbing his hands with glee, waiting for the news of the demise of this mission, the death of Grant… Or would they just act when the mission got back? How could they possibly hope to pull off something like that?

  At the same time, he well knew that Kozlowski was right.

  Begalli knew his stuff, and they needed someone with knowledge of the inner workings of the alien queen’s chambers, and what any change in the norm might mean.

  “No. I guess you’re right.”

  “Good. I’m glad we’re agreed on that.” She started out of the room. “I’m going to get the team ready for our push. Take a break, have a cup of tea—but if you’re coming with us, I want to see you out there in an hour. Capisce?”

  “Yes. And Colonel Kozlowski… Alex.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “Again, thanks.”

  She stopped and turned around. “Mr. Grant… Daniel…”

  “Yes?”

  “This isn’t exactly the kind of mission you had in mind, is it? I know your type. The enduring optimist under fire. The sturdy campaigner who uses ignorance as a positive. Overconfidence, Grant. That’s what I think it’s called.”

  “Sounds like a defect, Kozlowski. Why are you letting it into that hive?”

  “Because it’s also called ‘spirit,’ Danny boy. It’s infectious and it might just put us over the top here in a very ticklish situation.” She winked at him. “Besides, it turns me on like hell, and your goddamned Fire has got absolutely nothing on good old-fashioned hormones to get me in the mood for action.”

  Grant found a grin coming to his face. “You going to save some of those hormones for me, Alex?”

  “Sure, Danny. Next time I get PMS”

  She turned and strutted away.

  Grant shook his head.

  What a woman. He wasn’t sure if he could handle her.

  But he sure would like to try.

  23

  The tactical nuclear weapon struck the red alien hive dead on.

  Kozlowski watched the event inside the lander on the screen from the Razzia’s perspective. These tactical strikes had an extremely limited radius of effect, with minimal fallout and radiation, but nonetheless they had carefully ascertained the weather conditions beforehand. Everything had been perfect for the strike. The execution had been precise and professional.

  “Good shooting!” she told Hastings.

  Then she went outside where the troops were waiting for her.

  They’d heard the news on their radios and were cheering.

  “Just the start, people,” she said as she strode into their midst. “The uphill road is ahead.” She’d already noticed that the ranks of the battling aliens had thinned out somewhat. “What’s going on out there?”

  “Just seconds after detonation the reds just kind of stopped whatever they were doing and started spasming. Lots got killed, I think, and lots more are starting to take off,” reported Mahone.

  “Whatever psychic link they had with their queen mother must have been broken when the bitch got wasted,” said Henrikson, nodding.

  Kozlowski visualized that moment of intense destruction, the impact as that multimegaton nuke tore through the chambers of the reds, decimating all in it, shrieking caroming nuclear wind.

  Had queenie gotten off one final scream of agony, one bitter nasty farewell to her evil crew?

  Kozlowski hoped so. She hoped that bitch knew who’d been responsible. She was only sorry the thing didn’t have a little picture of her to take down to bug hell with her.

  Kozlowski turned to where Grant stood, looking uncomfortable and anxious in his suit. Doubtless, he was regretting his volunteering for the move into the hive. He’d be okay, though. He had the stuff.

  “There it is!” said Henrikson, putting down the pair of binoculars and pointing. “You don’t need glasses to see that baby.”

  Sure enough, off to the east, she could see the telltale mushroom cloud, rising up past the horizon of this flat, bleak landscape.

  Black and poisonous.

  “They’re taking off in droves!” someone shouted.

  Kozlowski sw
iveled. Sure enough, the reds seemed totally disinterested in the conflict now. They were taking off in waves. Racing away back toward their blasted hive.

  Why? Instinct? Whatever the reason, it wouldn’t do them much good. Still, Kozlowski was pleased. They wouldn’t be hanging around here.

  The blacks hung back for a moment, perplexed.

  Then, as though the thunderbolt of realization had hit them, they started after the enemy who had attempted to destroy them.

  Totally ignoring the interlopers behind the shielded vessel from another planet.

  “Yes!” said Kozlowski, stamping the ground with unalloyed glee.

  Just as planned.

  “It worked,” she said. “The reds are retreating to the other hive. This one should be clear in a few minutes.”

  Grant was fidgeting. He clearly wanted this all to be over. “Then let’s get moving! Who’s going in?”

  “Everyone but the technical crew,” said Kozlowski. “And Ellis.”

  “Makes sense,” said Grant. “He’s taking Jastrow’s death pretty hard.”

  “Yeah,” said Mahone. “They grew up together, joined the Corps together, and fought for years in the same unit.”

  “He’s a good marine,” said Kozlowski. “He’ll be okay in a few days. But I’d rather not have him in close combat right now. Besides, someone has to man the guns.” She walked over to the bank of guns poking out the side of the lander. “How are you doing up there, Private?”

  “All set, Colonel.”

  Luckily they’d trained all the troops to use these things.

  “Right. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” She turned back and walked toward Grant. “How about you? You sure you want to do this.”

  “No. But I’m going to.”

  “Good. It’ll be good to have you along.

  “All right then, helmets on.” She fitted her own on above her suit, clicked in the radio, waited for the rest of the troops to check in. When they did, when it was all finished, she chinned her radio again. “Okay, O’Connor.” The troops lifted their guns, released the safeties. “Drop the southern border.”

  * * *

  They moved out.

  There were still a few red aliens lingering about, and these charged in when they got a whiff of the intruders.