"I wait for Mistress Kateos before telling you, Master Hudsawn," Dowornobb replied. "Ah, she arrives now." Kateos carried food for herself and Dowornobb. She sat. Neither kone touched their meal.
"What is wrong?" Hudson asked.
"A rocket from Kon reached orbit last night," Dowornobb replied. "A military rocket."
Hudson looked up, fork suspended in midflight. "They not friendly to my people? They wish us harm?" Hudson asked.
"We do not know," Dowornobb continued. "You should stay hidden until we understand their—"
"No," said Kateos in sibilant, gravelly Legion. "They know you here. They know." Kateos pointed into the sky, her expression somber. "They asked-ah to see you."
Hudson's appetite faded. His attention was captured by an escalating rumble. The ground vibrated.
"They come," Kateos said. "Their landing happens now."
Hudson looked through the dome to see a white-hot column of flame—a tongue of energy evaporating the clouds, cleaving a wide tunnel through which could be seen blue morning skies. Ground vibration increased as the black cylinder smoothly slowed its descent. It hovered over the rocket pads and settled onto its gantry dock. Firmly planted, the powerful engines shut down, leaving sudden and disconcerting silence.
"We must-ah leave you now," Kateos said.
* * *
Dowornobb and Kateos hastened through the maze of passageways linking the domes, joining Et Silmarn at the airlock. Indicator lights revealed the airlock to be in the final stages of pressurization.
"Any news?" asked Dowornobb. "Have they brought supplies?"
"It is not a freighter," Et Silmarn snapped. "It is a warship—a heavy lift interceptor. I doubt they bring anything but trouble."
The airlock hissed open. The arrivals lumbered forward. All wore military uniforms, and many were armed. One individual grew disconcertingly familiar.
"Longo!" Dowornobb blurted, much too loudly.
"Colonel Longo, if you please," the leader of the detachment said flatly. "Realize with whom you are dealing." Longo wore the dark burgundy of the security apparatus.
"You are a spy!" Kateos blurted.
Longo fixed her with a glance of steel, his diplomatic veneer all too transparent. He turned rudely away.
"I am aware of what has happened on Genellan," Longo said, addressing himself to Et Silmarn. "I am here to continue the investigation." He peered around as if looking for something in particular. "It has been reported that you are holding one of the...aliens. I wish to see it."
"They call themselves humans," Et Silmarn replied, "and one is here as our guest, most excellent Colonel." The noblekone' s distaste was thinly suppressed. "The humans have demonstrated their peaceful intent."
Longo stared sternly and smiled. "Of course—Your Excellency. But as official representative of our government I must verify that...peaceful intent. A formality, of course. Where is this pacific creature? Why is it not here?"
"It only suffers our environment, most excellent Colonel," Et Silmarn responded. "Elevated pressures cause gases to be dissolved in its bloodstream, and it takes many hours and a slow decompression to relieve. Also, the human considers the temperature in our domes unbearably warm. It possesses a strange, er...a fragile physiology—except for its tolerance to cold."
"Are you telling me that I must go outside—in the winter—to meet with this creature?" replied the astounded Longo.
"No. It is cold outside, even for the human," Et Silmarn said. "The human—he is named Huhsawn—lives in our agricultural dome."
Dowornobb detected a faint whiff of fear emanating from the colonel.
"Of course," the noblekone continued impassively. "We have extensive video and photographs documenting the aliens. If you would avoid confrontation, you could review our research materials instead, most excellent Colonel."
Longo did not react to the insult. "Your suggestions have merit, Your Excellency."
* * *
In the final analysis General Gorruk's greatest military achievement was his retreat. It was masterfully executed, but then he had no alternative. His supply lines were severed. It was but a matter of time before his armies were isolated and destroyed.
His plan centered on demonstrating a massive offensive, preparations for which enabled him to position thousands of airfreighters and rail cars. Retreat was not imagined as an option, and so the combatants prepared for the ultimate confrontation of the war—an apocalyptic battle. Millions of konish soldiers moved across the blackened battlefields, girding themselves for death. The northern soldiers had no choice; running or fighting had the same result—death. Resigned to the more merciful death of combat, the northern armies marched with desperate resolve.