Steve Gordon - Insectoid 03 - Death to the Insectoids!

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Chapter 1: Gladiator Games

Humanity had let down its guard, and paid a terrible price.

After decades of war a conflict-weary population was eager for

peace. So when the Insectoids offered an armistice, the civilian

leadership of the Alliance jumped at the chance to reach a final end to

the bloody war.

The rest was history. The Insectoids ambushed the fleet at

Vitalics, killing thousands of sailors and destroying the bulk of the

fleet. After that here was nothing to stop them, nothing left to

protect Alliance worlds, both League and Directorate planets. They

landed on Alliance planets at will, killing those who resisted and

enslaving the rest.

The destruction of the fleet at Vitalics was almost total--but

not all the fleet was actually there. A small force under the command

of the legendary War Admiral Norman North escaped an ambush and rallied

the surviving forces. "Escape from the Insectoids" describes their

flight from known space as they desperately searched for new technology

they could use to take back their worlds. But the Insectoids weren't

content to leave them to their search and made many attempts to destroy

them. Finally after nearly twenty years of being chased, when the War

Admiral's fleet was about to be destroyed, they were saved by a

mysterious allied force, which was led by an old friend long thought to

be dead.

During these nearly 20 years there was scattered resistance to

the Insectoids on the worlds they occupied. Small bands of resistance

fighters took the battle to the Insectoids, but at first their numbers

were few and they were relentlessly hunted down. One of the most

famous resistance leaders, former agency operative Clifford Croft, led

one of the most successful teams to hamper to occupation force. But

now the Insectoids struck back hard, killing some of his friends, and

capturing others.

Date: One Year, 11 Months, and One Day after the Invasion

And now they were after Croft himself. The enemy had located his

secret base and a heavily armed platoon of Insectoid troopers had

surrounded it, awaiting only the order to attack.

The Insectoid officer surveyed the scene. Its troops were in

position. It had more than enough firepower to assault the hideout.

The humans had cleverly emptied out a power generator and hidden their

base inside the outer shell. The officer clicked its mandibles. The

successful completion of this operation would give its career a strong

boost.

The officer had orders to take the Croft pest dead or alive. But

the officer was taking no chances. Its troops had orders to shoot to

disintegrate. If all went well the officer might even be permitted to

reproduce.

"Attack," said the officer in a neutral clicking voice.

The troopers moved in. They simultaneously closed in from all

directions. They saw a crack in the wall that looked like a hidden

door. The Insectoids bunched around the entrance, their weapons at the

ready. The trooper in the lead pushed the door open and-

A fireball blasted its way out of the generator and engulfed the

troopers. The Insectoid officer, at the edge of the explosion, was

thrown off its feet. As it painfully struggled to get up, the sight of

the burned body parts, splattered globs of green blood, and the screams

of the dying troopers occupied its senses. There would be no chance of

reproducing now. The officer would be lucky if it wasn't summarily

dismembered.

A video monitor in a room half a mile in another direction

clearly showed the fiery remains on the factory floor. The monitor also

showed the faint reflection of the face intently watching the burned

Insectoid body parts scattered across the factory floor. A face that

was very much wanted.

Clifford Croft watched the scene with a measure of satisfaction.

He wouldn't be that easy to catch; and if they ever did catch him, they

would pay a higher price than that.

Croft reflected on the situation. Most of his allies had been

caught or killed. General Markov. Markov's men. The Silencer. Preston.

He continued to watch the scene, burning the image into his mind.

The only thing he felt was anger. He had known Preston for decades. The

Silencer had saved his life countless times.

Croft suddenly heard a clap behind him, then another, then

another. Without turning, he said, "Thanks for the applause."

The Clapper continued to clap. He had some sort of mental

illness that caused him to clap when he was nervous, or bored, or

agitated, or whatever. The Silencer had managed to curb the Clapper's

urge to clap by sheer force of intimidation, but now-

Croft suddenly turned around, a look of annoyance in his eyes.

The Clapper froze, in midclap. He was a powerful telekinetic, but was

too timid to use his powers against allies. The same, however, could

not be said of his companions.

"Where's Red?" said Croft, looking around. The only one in the

small room besides them was Sashay, who was keeping an eye on the door.

"She went out," said Sashay. "She thought she heard something in

the corridor."

"When was this?" said Croft. He elbowed Sashay away from the

door. "A few minutes ago," said Sashay.

And she wasn't back yet? Croft bit his lip as he looked down the

gloomy corridor. Despite his bravado, he realized they were being

chased and hunted down by an enemy who outnumbered and outgunned them

in every department. The shock of the loss of his friends was still

sinking in. And all he had left was the Clapper and Sashay, also known

as the Paperweight.

He couldn't just abandon Red Sally. "Stay here," said Croft. "If

I don't return in ten minutes, you're on your own."

Sashay grew wide-eyed, and the Clapper's hands fluttered

nervously. Croft didn't stay to look for any further reactions before

heading out the door, his blaster drawn.

If he ran into an Insectoid patrol he could take out two, maybe

three of them before they got him. If only he had the Silencer with

him! But the Silencer was dead. Or was he? Croft had seen him shot, but

he didn't know for sure that he was dead. Maybe....

Croft inched down the corridor for several hundred feet.

Suddenly, he thought he saw a flash of orange light from a side

corridor. He turned down that corridor and started to hear the faint

noise of battle.

The scene, when he reached it, was truly stunning; Red Sally and

two men were trapped in a dead end, Red was shooting sheets of flames

at the Insectoids while the men fired blasters; the Insectoids, some

firing back and others on fire, shrieking in pain, were running around

blindly.

Croft, coming up behind the Insectoids, didn't hesitate, opening

fire. After a second one fell, and the others turned to face this new

threat. He saw a beam whiz by his right eye, and he instinctively

crouched down, still firing. The Insectoids were falling rapidly, but

there were so many of them!

Red Sally and the others were taking advantage of this

distraction to cut down the Insectoids from their side. In a moment,

the last Insectoid was hit, and all was suddenly silent, except for the

crackle of Insectoid body parts on fire.

Croft stood up. He saw now that one of the two men with Red Sally

was bleeding, and there were bodies of two other men on the ground

besides them..

"Come on," said Croft hoarsely. "We're pushing our luck by just

standing around."

Sally and the other two men gingerly picked their way over the

charred Insectoid bodies to reach Croft. As they sprinted back to the

hideout, Croft could see Sally's red hair, glistening with sweat,

starting to turn blonde again.

They reached the hiding place without incident. The Clapper gave

a muted squeal of joy when he saw Red Sally. They all sat on the

floor, gasping to recover their breath, while Sashay continued to watch

the door.

"This hideout isn't safe," said Sally. "It's too close to a main

corridor and too near our last encounter with the bugs. We should go to

the one that we set up."

After Croft's group had been forced to evacuate one of their

previous hideouts during a particularly hurried retreat, leaving them

with no secure base to go to, he had decreed that in the future they

would always have a backup hideout. But, oddly enough, Croft had had

his team split up into two groups, each setting up their own backup

hideout, without telling the other group where it was. Red Sally, the

Silencer, and Preston had set one up, and he, Mongo, and the Clapper

had set up this one, and each group hadn't told the other where their

backup was located. At the time they had wondered why Croft required

this duplication and secrecy.

Croft shook his head. "Your backup hideout is a deathtrap."

"How do you know?" said Sally. "You don't even know where it is."

"But the Insectoids do," said Croft. "How do you think they found

out the location of our primary hideout?"

Sally frowned. With all their running around, she hadn't given it

much thought. "They may have stumbled upon it during a patrol-"

"No, it was too well hidden," said Croft. "Unless you believe the

Insectoids have a policy of breaking into every generator they see, on

the off-chance that it's been hollowed out and used as a hideout. They

knew what they were going to find before they attacked. They set up

specifically to attack this location; it was obvious from the monitor."

"Then how did they know?"

"They got to the Silencer, or Preston," said Croft. "It's the

only answer."

"They're dead," said Sally.

"They may indeed be dead now, but not before one of them talked,"

said Croft.

"The Silencer would never give away our location."

"It may not have been his idea," said Croft. "Either way, one or

both of them were captured, and lived long enough to tell them about

our primary base. Now, both of them also knew about your secondary

base. Want to bet that the Insectoids haven't staked that out as well?"

"Why don't we just check out-"

"If we check in, we won't check out," said Croft bluntly.

"As my dear departed wife used to say, better safe than sorry,"

said Sashay.

"How do you know it wasn't Mongo who was tortured for

information?" said Sally. "He's unaccounted for."

"Possible," said Croft. "But he split before everything came

apart. I'm guessing he saw far enough into the future to protect

himself. We should leave now."

"Leave?" said Sashay. "But we're already at the hideout that your

group built. Where else shall we go?"

"To the hideout I created on my own," said Croft.

Clifford Croft was not an especially trusting fellow. Working for

decades as a spy hadn't sharpened his instinct to trust or rely on

others, but even without his training, trust didn't come naturally to

him. And so while he had gone through the motions of setting up an

auxiliary hideout with Sashay and Mongo, he had, bit by bit on his own

time, set up a real backup hideout for himself. And it was there that

he took Sashay, the Clapper, Red Sally, and the two resistance fighters

she had rescued. Only Croft insisted on a blindfold for the resistance

fighters. No need to trust more people than necessary.

Nearly two years earlier, a light cruiser in the defense of

August had been shot down during the initial invasion. The pilot had

managed to make a controlled crash, landing on one of the few large

open plazas in the heart of the capital city surrounding Sarney

Sarittenden. The ship had broken open, but the main body of the craft

remained intact, allowing the two thirds of the crew who survived to

escape. The Insectoid ground troopers, after checking out the wreckage

during the ground invasion, now didn't give it a second thought.

But Clifford Croft did. The impact had collapsed the upper levels

of August underneath the crash site, reducing the amount of tunneling

he needed to do. After some excavation, he had an ideal hiding place--

in plain view of two Insectoid security checkpoints, on either end of

the large plaza. The Insectoids would never, ever think to look there,

and Croft had a secure method of ingress and egress--from the

underground.

It was there that he took his allies. He had refurbished two of

the crew quarters, which made a tight squeeze for six, but light and

sound used there couldn't be seen on the plaza outside. If the

Insectoids ever became curious and investigated the wreck again, they'd

have to dig their way to the two compartments, giving Croft plenty of

warning.

Czzz idly sat back in her chair. She was bored, and showed it.

Now that they had conquered the humans, there was no fun, no excitement

anymore! Czzz was a high-ranking Insectoid, a direct deputy to the

governor-general of August, who had grown fat and lazy during the

consolidation period. Perhaps the latest round of executions would add

a bit of excitement to her day.

The prisoners shuffled into the execution chamber, herded by

guards carrying long blades. Their faces were down, their body language

showed they were defeated. How boring.

All except for one human. He moved slowly like the rest,

shuffling along, and then, in the blink of an eye, he had somehow

grabbed the giant four foot foot blade weapon from one of the guards,

skewered it, and turned on the next one in line behind it.

An alarm sounded, and Insectoid guards rushed into the execution

chamber. They attempted to disarm the creature, but it was too quick,

even using the blade which was obviously too long and heavy for it.

Four guards were down before the rest pulled back, drawing their lasers

for the inevitable putdown.

"Wait!" said Czzz, standing up suddenly. Everything stopped; the

guards, the prisoner, even the one with the long blade who moved too

quickly. Czzz looked down at the execution chamber. "You! Human! How do

you move so quickly?" Looking more closely, Czzz noticed that the human

was wounded, its right arm hanging loosely from it. Even more

remarkable that it could fight like that while wounded!

The being looked up at Czzz and said nothing. Czzz wondered if

her translator was functioning properly. "Human! How do you move so

quickly?" Czzz said again.

The being spoke in a flat voice. "I don't; you just move so

slowly."

"Do you have a name?" Czzz asked.

The being nodded.

Czzz waited. Then, seeing no response. "What is your name?"

"I'm called the Silencer."

The Silencer! The being responsible for the death of so many

Insectoid troopers, the being who moved faster than a bat wing, the

being who had raided Sarney Sarittenden itself. Now that was

excitement!

"I think I have a use for you," said Czzz.

"We have captured or killed all the ringleaders," said the

officer. A junior Queen, her name was Tsur, and she was in charge of

internal security on August.

"All the ringleaders?" said Queen Zsst. "What of the one called

Clifford Croft?"

"He is presumed dead," said the officer.

"When is he presumed to have died?" said the Queen. "Before or

after the boobytrapped explosion which decimated your platoon?"

So the Queen knew about that. She must have her own sources

within the military, Tsur realized.

"That could have been an automated boobytrap," said Tsur. "All

evidence suggests he was killed along with the rest of General Markov's

men-" "All evidence suggests that you are trying to hide your failure,"

said Queen Zsst. "This Clifford Croft is one of the few senior agency

humans still at large, one of their legendary Eight. He is skilled at

sabotage and guerrilla warfare. Find this human, or I will find you."

"Yes, Queen," said Tsur, bowing as she exited.

Zsst turned to another aide. "Continue the report."

"We have broken the back of the resistance," the aide reported.

"The raids in the capital area have virtually ceased."

"But only in the area of the capital," said Queen Zsst, noting

the distinction. "That is not sufficient." She sat at ease in her

throne room in the heart of Sarney Sarittenden. To her side stood a

hooded figure. "Why are we not breeding additional troopers at full

capacity?"

"We have the capacity to breed more, but not the foodstuffs to

support them," said the aide. "We are working on increasing grubfruit

production at the farms."

"See that you do," said Zsst. "We will only wipe out the human

pest entirely when we have total numerical superiority."

"The goal is not to wipe them out," said the hooded figure. "I

thought we were clear on that."

"To wipe out their resistance, I meant," said the Queen. "Of

course, they can perform some minor manual labor as well."

"And other purposes," said the hooded figure. "We did not assist

you in this invasion merely to provide you with cheap labor. The humans

have other uses, ones which you have not been using them for."

"Other uses, Baracki?" The Queen almost seemed to snort in

derision.

The hooded figure shook its head sadly. "The humans can be used

for skilled labor-"

"Skilled? For what?"

"Sophisticated product production. Driving. Piloting. You have a

very educated worker base that you are squandering."

Zsst made a derisive noise.

"Do you not have a human in your employ?"

"The cook?" said Zsst. "It is a cook!"

"A sophisticated biochemist who is able to come up with dishes

that your own cooks cannot," said Baraki. "I expect that you will make

better use of the humans." The menace in his tone was clear.

The tension was palpable.

Zsst said, "Perhaps there are some minor tasks that they can be

put to."

"Good. Also, you have ignored their industrial base. You simply

level whatever they have in place in order to build your own

factories."

"Their factories are not equipped to produce our munitions or

other goods."

"Some of them can be retooled," said Baraki. "You might also

learn something from their manufacturing techniques."

"Their techniques?" Zsst said incredulously.

"You don't even make use of their own power supplies," said

Baraki. "Your race knows how to conquer, but doesn't know how to

exploit. We invested a lot of time and effort in helping you with this

invasion. You must profit fully from what you have conquered so that

you can build up as rapidly as possible and be ready for the next

step.""Very well," said Zsst reluctantly. "We will see what can be

done."

The Sarney Sarittenden Stadium was the largest event arena on the

planet, with ample seating for 50,000 on-site spectators. Used in the

past for sporting, artistic, or cultural events, the Insectoids had

found a more practical use for it: gladiator games. Over the past two

years over a thousand human prisoners had met their end providing the

Insectoids with entertainment.

But attendance at the games had been declining. The audience, all

Insectoids, was starting to find them boring. Thus it was with great

pleasure that Czzz had located a new source of entertainment.

The Silencer stood in the arena, blinking in the morning sun as

he raised one hand over his eyes. The other arm hung loosely on his

right side. On the ground in front of him something gleamed in the

bright sunlight. Coming closer he saw it was a smaller version of the

sticks with the curved blades on the end that the Insectoids used. He

picked it up with his good arm.

Over the announcement system words blared out in the clicks and

buzzes of the Insectoid native language. "Announcing a new target...

one of the most fearsome human opponents... a Graftonite... the one

known as the Silencer!"

A buzzing went up in the audience. Obviously they had heard of

him. A seven foot tall Insectoid wearing the traditional red shoulder

patch of a gladiator emerged into the arena. It carried a giant stick

with a curved blade on the end, a larger version of what the Silencer

now carried.

Normally, one of his top gladiators would take on several humans

at once. The weak, underfed, and poorly trained humans were seldom any

challenge. But Czzz, sensing that the Silencer would be more of a

challenge, had arranged for a one-on-one contest. She sat on

comfortable pillows, watching the battle that was about to begin. She

hoped the Silencer would provide some challenge.

The gladiator approached the Silencer. The Silencer didn't move,

glaring at the Insectoid. He hefted the weapon in his good arm, as if

feeling the weight.

The gladiator stopped several feet short of the Silencer. "Are

you ready to die, human?" it said through its translation device. "I

have killed 40 of your kind in the arena. I am only one short to move

up to fifth place in the gladiator rankings."

The Silencer said nothing, but continued to glare coldly. The

Insectoid, seeing it wasn't getting the reaction it expected, raised

its weapon and cautiously started to circle the Silencer. The Silencer

took a step as if to move in the opposite direction and to circle the

Insectoid. The Insectoid took another step forward, and-

no one in the arena could see it, because it was so fast, but the

Silencer doubled back, lunged and stabbed the Insectoid in the chitlins

deep with the blade before anyone, including the Insectoid, could even

blink.The gladiator gave a hoarse scream as the Silencer tugged on the

stick, causing the curved blade to sink deeper into the gladiator,

pulling it down to the ground.

The green blood of the gladiator ran freely on the sands of the

arena.

The crowd roared in anger. But Czzz was ecstatic. This wasn't

the result she had been expecting; but it appeared this human would

have some staying power. She wondered how it would perform when facing

two gladiators....

"So as I see it, we've got to leave," said Croft. He looked

around at their little group--Red Sally, Sashay, the Clapper, and the

two soldiers they had picked up, Tanil and Yaney. It had been a week

now since they had escaped from their last encounter with the

Insectoids.

They were squeezed into one of the small renovated quarters

aboard the crashed cruiser, all looking about aimlessly, except for the

Clapper, who was watching something on the internal monitors. "The

Insectoids have been mass producing troops at an incredible rate. The

patrols here in the center of Sarney Sarittenden are simply too

numerous for us to operate in safety."

"Who's to say that the patrols will be any lighter in an outlying

area?" Sally asked.

"It just makes sense that they would build up their presence in

the capital first," said Croft.

"And what happens when they build up their forces so much that

it's not safe for us anywhere?" Yaney asked.

"Then we find a way to get off-planet," said Croft. He noticed

their expressions. "Listen, I know we've just taken a bitter blow. All

of us have lost friends. You guys have lost everyone you worked with

under General Markov. We've lost the Silencer and-"

"He's right there," said the Clapper, clapping slowly.

"-and Preston, who were colleagues of ours," said Croft, ignoring

the Clapper.

"The Silencer's right there," said the Clapper, clapping slowly.

"What do you mean?" said Croft, looking annoyed at being

interrupted.

"There," said the Clapper, pointing with a nod of his head, as

his hands were busy clapping.

They all turned to look at the monitor. Croft had tapped into the

internal network, to monitor Insectoid communications. The image on the

screen was the Silencer, in the arena, holding a weapon of some kind,

fighting three other gladiators.

Correction. Make that two. One of them went down with the

Silencer's weapon in him. The Silencer gave a tug with his good arm to

retrieve the weapon, but the weapon stayed firmly stuck to the

Insectoid. A curved blade came whistling down on the Silencer's back

even as he tugged; he jerked away at the last minute, gave its holder a

sharp kick, and grabbed the weapon from the surprised Insectoid.

In moments, it was over, and the Silencer, expressionless, was

standing over the bleeding bodies of three Insectoids.

"He's alive," said Croft. "We have to go get him."

The Clapper started to clap more quickly.

"Wait a minute," said Red Sally. "You were just saying how we

needed to evacuate. Now you want us to go even deeper into the heart of

the capital to make a rescue attempt?"

"Yes," said Croft simply.

Two days later, the Silencer was sitting in a cold, dark,

windowless cell, quietly eating the bowl of gruel that he had been

given. He didn't look up when he heard the cell door open, or even

when he heard the familiar jeering buzz.

"Get up, human!"

"I'm not done," said the Silencer, continuing to eat.. He

recognized his jailer; this one had given the Silencer a

disproportionate share of his bruises and cuts.

The Insectoids reached out to give the Silencer a wack with one

of its sharp arms. The Silencer ducked to the right before the arm

landed, continuing to eat. The arm snaked out again, and the Silencer

ducked to the left.

Roaring, the Insectoid lunged forward with two of its arms, and

the Silencer, ducking underneath both of them, delivered a sharp kick

into the creature's gut. With an ooomph! it fell to the ground. But the

Silencer wasn't finished yet; smashing down with his elbow, he cracked

one the creature's large eye plexuses. It started to scream as it

splurted green blood.

Other Insectoid guards ran up, brandishing lasers. Two of them

pulled the still writhing body of the first Insectoid guard out, while

the others kept the Silencer covered.

One of the guards, looking back and forth from the body to the

Silencer several times, said, "Please eat quickly."

There was an enormous cage in the arena, filled with what the

Insectoids called "beasts"; giant insects breed for viciousness. These

beasts happened to be giant bumblebees, each half again as large as a

groundcar. There were three of them in the cage. The Silencer wondered

how they expected him to fight them off with one of their cumbersome

blade weapons.

And then something was thrown down to him in the sand. He

recognized it immediately, even before he picked it up. It was a

simple, straight blade. With a button on the hilt. The Silencer hefted

it in his left hand, and pressed the button. The outer edge of the

blade gave off a thin glow.

It was a traditional Graftonite powerblade, or powersword. The

forcefield along the edges of the blade could cut through the hardest

substance like butter.

And then the door to the cage opened, and the three giant bees

swarmed out in a direct line to him.

The Silencer wasn't an expert in the use of powerblades as other

Graftonites were. And using his left arm was somewhat awkward. But he

was a Graftonite, one of the fastest, and he had used a powerblade

before.

The three bees came towards him at an altitude of only five feet

off the ground, their forms casting heavy shadows underneath them,

their yellow and black colors glinting off the natural sunlight. They

made a loud buzzing sound as their eye plexuses, sparkling in the

light, homed in on him. It was as if headlights from large gravtrucks

were fixed on him.

The Silencer seemed paralyzed into inaction. The shock of the

sight of these beasts had caused more than one of their victims to

freeze in their tracks.

But the Silencer was merely biding his time. At the last moment,

the Silencer dodged to one side, running furiously as he raised his

sword up. He ran under and around one of the flanking bees so fast that

it took them a few moments to decelerate and turn around.

It was only then that the spectators noticed a piece of a wing on

the ground, and one of the bees was flying unsteadily. The raised sword

hadn't been a theatrical move, as many of the spectators had assumed;

while running and dodging, the Silencer, quicker than anyone could see,

had sliced through a piece of one of the beasts.

The beasts turned and charged again, but the Silencer kept

running, for the only cover available: the cage. Running behind the

cage, he stood along the edge of it, watching them approach. Because

the bulk of the cage was between him and the beasts, the beasts

couldn't charge him directly. Two flew above the cage and one of them

came from the side.

But it was an uncoordinated attack, and the Silencer realized his

advantage. These beasts had only a rudimentary intelligence, so their

ability to cooperate with each other was haphazard at best.

The one attacking him from the side reached him first, and he

ducked back behind the cage, so that it passed him by; it would take a

precious moment for the bee to turn and accelerate back towards him.

During that moment the Silencer ducked down and plunged his sword up,

plunging into the guts of the bee who had just cleared the top of the

cage. He yanked the blade out and spun to the side just as the bee came

crashing down.

The third bee was just coming over the top just as the first bee

was getting a lock on his location again, so the Silencer ran around

and into the cage. The first bee tried to sting him through the bars,

lunging at him, but the Silencer stood just out of range. The beast

lunged again, and just as it pulled back the Silencer lunged, stabbing

it quickly with his powerblade.

He heard a buzzing behind him and was lunging as he turned; the

third beast was attacking him through the open end of the cage. The

giant stinger lunged out at him, but a fraction of a second before it

touched his body, his blade penetrated the beast first, causing it to

jump back as if it had touched a hot poker. It fell to the ground in a

heap just inside the entrance to the cage.

Without looking, the Silencer lunged behind him, through the bars

of the cage, at the wounded bee that was pressing against the bars. His

sword hit it straight between the eyes, and it dropped to the ground.

When the Silencer stepped out of the cage, there was raucous

applause, with mandibles clicking and buzzing sounds everywhere. Even

the Insectoids couldn't help but admire his skill.

The Silencer slowly walked to the entrance of the arena, still

gripping his powerblade. Guards nervously grasped their lasers at the

entrance, motioning for him to drop the weapon.

The Silencer seemed to pause, considering. Then he looked up,

noticing the squad of guards above him, out of reach, who also had

lasers trained on him, and then he deactivated the blade, dropping it

to the sand.

Deep inside the palace, in the heart of occupied Sarney

Sarittenden, an interior wall illuminated, and a hooded figure stepped

through. The illuminated wall seemed to show another room behind it,

one much like the room the figure had stepped into. But this image

faded almost immediately after the figure stepped through. The figure

touched something on another wall, and the wall slid open, revealing a

corridor in the palace. The figure glanced cautiously down the

corridor; and, seeing it was empty, stepped forward.

The wall closed behind him, leaving no sign of entry or exit.

"You are very impressive!" said Czzz.

The Silencer had been brought, under heavy guard, to the hosting

tower just behind the arena. He stood silently.

"You are the most entertaining human we have ever had in the

arena," said Czzz.

She waited for some kind of reaction. There was one.

"Did you enjoy the use of your powerblade? It was I who procured

it for you."

The Silencer didn't reply.

The guards stirred. The human wasn't behaving respectfully.

But Czzz wasn't disturbed, merely puzzled. "What is it that will

make you speak?" He looked at the Silencer. "I notice one of your arms

isn't functioning. I could have my veterinarian look at it."

The Silencer continued to say nothing.

"All you would have to do is ask."

There was no reply.

"Very well, then be silent!" said Czzz. "Speech is not required

in the arena. As long as you are entertaining, you will continue to

live. Guards!"

"Please, Silencer, come with us," said one of the guards,

standing at a respectful distance. They had heard what had happened to

the guard who had ventured into the Silencer's cell.

Croft thought he had found a semi-abandoned maintenance tunnel

that led under the arena. At least, it looked like the tunnel hadn't

been used in some time. Behind him were Red Sally, the Clapper, Tanil,

and Yaney. Sashay, fearful about entering the heart of an Insectoid

stronghold, stayed behind. They all were fearful, actually. But Sashay,

the Paperweight, wasn't much good in battle anyway. All he was good at

was cooking. And painting. For a moment, Croft wondered why he hadn't

gotten rid of Sashay earlier. He was just another useless mouth to

feed. Croft absentmindedly stared at an intersecting corridor ahead of

them. He squinted; something was bothering him about that intersection,

but he wasn't quite sure what it was. Maybe it was just an attack of

the nerves.

In the intersecting corridor up ahead, just out of Croft's view,

Tsur lay in wait with two handpicked squads of Insectoid troopers. Tsur

knew that the Silencer was closely associated with the Clifford Croft

human; and knew it was only a matter of time before the Clifford Croft

attempted a rescue. Tsur had analyzed all the possible areas of attack,

and concluded that Croft would attempt to come this way. And Tsur was

waiting for him.

Suddenly Tsur heard a crackling sound, as if someone had stepped

on the debris on the ground. Tsur peered just around the bend in the

corridor, staring at the gloomy corridor, but saw nothing. Then he

heard another sound, like a footstep, and another.

Tsur poked his head into the corridor. She still saw nothing.

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eraseDeathtotheInsectoids!BySteveGordon.Allrightsreserved.Writemeatsteve2“at”allscifi.comandtellmewhatyouthoughtofthisbook!Feelfreetosavethisatanytimeinyourharddrive(clickon"file"onyourbrowser,then"saveas"tosaveitlocally),soyoucanfinishreadingitatyourleisure.Chapter1:GladiatorGamesHumanityhadletdown...

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Steve Gordon - Insectoid 03 - Death to the Insectoids!

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