The Bug Wars Read online

  ...Avoid the trees...burn through a swarm...turn to the right...burn the nests...roll...

  One thing bothered me. The mission was going too smoothly. I received no sign-off and visually confirmed on the passes when I was bringing up the rear. All our flyers were still with us. We had not lost any team members. If the other divisions were experiencing similar success, there could be difficulties when we headed back.

  ...Don't wander...roll...turn to the right...burn the nests...

  We were near completing the sweep of our zone. I was concerned about the north border, however. The team zones overlapped to ensure no "live" pockets were accidentally overlooked. This meant careful timing between the teams was necessary to be sure two teams didn't sweep the same region at the same time and accidentally fly into each other. It was a bothersome but effective system; however, something was wrong. We seemed to be the only ones working the region by the north border, and when we turned, we could see nests remaining beyond our zone.

  Something was very wrong with the flight team to our north. The end of our sweep was upon us, and I had to make a decision fast. This was not particularly difficult, as there was really only one course of action to be followed. We could not risk leaving unburned nests behind. This was a genocide war. If we left any eggs behind, we would have to come back later and fight this action all over again, but this time against an Enemy that was prepared and waiting for us. We couldn't leave those nests behind.

  As we completed our sweep, I signaled the formation to return to the north border. This undoubtedly caused some consternation in my team, but they were Tzen, and they followed without complaint as I led the formation in a turn to the left. In this situation, a turn to the left was safe. I didn't have to worry about Kor, as long as we were moving, to prolong contact with the Enemy.

  The fighting became more difficult as we made our supplemental sweep. This was only to be expected. Not having had an opportunity to work out a coordinated random pattern, we were forced to work a simple back-and-forth geometric pattern. As it has been noted before, geometric patterns are suicidal.

  We had reached a point where we were spending as much time burning swarms of the Enemy as we were burning nests when the long-awaited call was beamed into my mind. When we crossed into another flight team's zone we turned on the trespass beacons in our craft to alert the assigned team of our presence, and we were finally getting a response.

  "I have a fix on your beacons," came the thought. "While I appreciate the assistance in covering this zone, I can now complete assignment without additional support. You may return to rendezvous point."

  I noted her use of the word "I" instead of "we."

  "What is your condition?" I queried.

  "Five flyers lost. My own canopy is breached. It is therefore impossible for me to meet pickup ship. However, I can complete the mission. Feel free to return to rendezvous point."

  What occurred to me was the difficulty our six flyers had had sweeping this zone, giving rise to the question of the lone flyer's ability to finish the job. I rejected the thought. She was a Tzen. If she said she could complete the mission, she could complete it.

  "Return to rendezvous!" I beamed to my team and slammed my flyer into a steep climb out of the trees.

  I experienced a moment of worry about Kor, but it appeared to be without basis. As we broke out into the predawn light, she was in her appointed position in the formation.

  I did not ponder the nobility of the Tzen who sent us on, staying to fight alone. Among the Tzen, this was not exceptionally heroic. Rather, it was our expected performance of duty.

  The sky was empty of other flight teams as we streaked toward the rendezvous point. This was not surprising, as our supplemental sweep had taken us extra time. The other units were probably already at the rendezvous point.

  Far below I noticed a portion of the forest blazing. Apparently someone had been careless with the use of his hot-beam. I studied it as we flashed overhead. It was in a relatively small portion of the forest, set off from the main mass by a river. Hopefully the river would halt the fire's march. After all this trouble to keep the forest intact, it would be disappointing to see it all lost because of one flyer's carelessness.

  We were almost at the pickup point, and our formation was climbing steadily to gain the necessary altitude. We could see the transport now, and as we drew closer, the small cloud of flyers waiting their turn in a holding pattern.

  I tried to ignore the implications of this as our team joined the holding pattern. Either we weren't the only ones who had had our mission delayed, or...

  I forced the thought from my mind, It was almost our turn for entry. I led my team away from the ship in a long circle, allowing maneuvering room for the members to rearrange the formation from a tetrahedron to a single file. Ready now, we turned our line toward the ship, setting a bearing for the open pickup port.

  The port was closed. As we watched, the transport broke orbit and began to move away, gaining speed as it went.

  CHAPTER THREE

  One of the most difficult phases in planning a military campaign is deciding an "Anticipated Casualty Rate." Interstellar combat has made this phase even more crucial. You estimate the number of warriors required to complete the mission after casualties. You then calculate your transportation and supply needs based on that number. If you underestimate your casualties, you run the risk of losing the battle. Overestimate and you are in danger of losing your entire force if your supplies or fuel run out while you're still in space.

  The High Command had arrived at a solution to this problem: They calculated the number of anticipated casualties and then stuck to it. They might suffer more casualties than planned, but never less. They planned for returning a specific number of troops to the colony ship, and when that number was on board the transport, they simply shut the doors. Anyone still outside was then considered a casualty.

  Apparently this is what had happened to us.

  As this was our first confrontation with the Insects, the High Command had had no data on which to base their casualty estimates, so they had estimated high. This ensured the mission would be completed. This also meant we were shut out.

  This did not mean simply diverting to another transport. If there had been extra space available in another ship, we would have been directed to it. We hadn't. There was no more space. As far as the High Command was concerned, we were now officially dead.

  I found my position curious, the live commander of a live "dead" flight team. What does one do after one is dead? I decided the crisis was of a magnitude to warrant getting the thoughts of the team.

  "Confer!" I beamed to the formation at large. I expected a few moments' silence while they collected their thoughts, but Kors answer was almost immediate.

  "If we're dead, the obvious course is to take additional legions of the Enemy to the Black Swamps with us. We may have gotten all the eggs and queens on the formal raid, but there are still a large number of workers we can destroy before the power sources burn out.

  "Ahk here, Rahm. Should we accept so readily that we're dead? There is always a chance of a missed transmission from the transport. I would suggest we use whatever power remains to sweep for another transport. If we cannot find one, then we can decide a course of action.

  "May I remind the team," came Ssah's voice, "that dead or not, Rahm is still in command. As Commander, it is his duty, difficult though it may be, to decide our course of action, not waste our time in idle debate."

  "Mahz confirms Ssah's contention!"

  I was about to reply to this implication of my shirking of duty, when Zur's quiet voice interrupted.

  "If I may, Commander, there is no need for us to die. However, if the Black Swamp calls us home, there is much we can do for the Empire first."

  His assertion intrigued me.

  "Explain, Zur."

  "There is another species of the Coalition of Insects present on this planet. This means the fleets will be back. If
we can survive long enough, we can rejoin the Empire at that time. Even if we do not survive until rendezvous, we may be able to gather information on the Enemy to leave for the Empire's use."

  His advice was timely and meritorious. If there was a chance we could still be of use to the Empire, there was nothing further to discuss.

  "On my lead!" I beamed at the team and wheeled toward the planet surface. Behind me, the flyers broke from the circling holding pattern we had maintained for our conference to form the tetrahedron behind me. We were again Tzen with a purpose.

  Time was of the essence now. The ground-based power sources for our flyers were not long lived. They should have output beyond the forecast time of the mission to allow extra flyers to find secondary transports if available, but as we had cause to know, casualties had been light. That meant additional drain on the power sources. We had no way of knowing how much time was left before our engines would die.

  "As we reach low altitude, scatter and search individually. We want a large, deep cave in the low mountain range, not more than five hundred meters from a water source, preferably with an overhanging ledge. Avoid the forests and high-altitude flying at all costs."

  As Kor had pointed out, there were still worker Wasps about. It would not pay to have them discover the presence of lingering Tzen to vent their vengeance on.

  "Commander, may I suggest-"

  "You may not, Ssah! As you pointed out, this is my decision to make and I have made it. You have your orders."

  The team scattered, each taking a sextant to canvass. Our flyers skimmed low over the rolling foothills, racing to find refuge before our time ran out. Each pass through my sextant took longer as the search pattern widened. I began to grow concerned. The pattern might spread too far without success, and then we would be in danger of being unable to regroup our flyers if the power source stopped.

  I banked the flyer into another turn and started back through my sextant, alert for any sign of a cave such as we were seeking. In another few sweeps I would have to break off the search and try another plan. If we flew too far apart, we would be unable to contact each other telepathically.

  "Commander I have a cave."

  "Message confirmed, Ssah. Is it large enough to get our flyers into?"

  "I have already flown in and back out again successfully. It will suit our purposes."

  Not for the first time I noted Ssah's tendency for unnecessarily reckless action. However, this was not the time to go into it at length.

  "Team confirm. and home on Ssah's beacon."

  "Mahz confirms."

  "Ahk confirms."

  "Zur confirms."

  I waited for a few moments. Kor did not confirm.

  "Zur, Mahz, you are closest to Kor's sextant. Relay message or confirmation."

  "I have her confirmation, Commander," came Mahz's reply.

  With the order acknowledged throughout the team, I wheeled my flyer over and made for Ssah's beacon. Traveling at maxspeed, I soon had the cave in sight. The opening was low, with only a little over ten feet clearance, but more than wide enough to accommodate the flyer's wingspan. I saw two of the team, Ahk and Mahz, dart their flyers into the cave's mouth as I began my approach.

  I cut power and leveled my glide two feet off the ground, I had to assume the cave was deep enough that I wouldn't have to worry about plowing into the flyers ahead of me. If it was not, the others would have warned me.

  The entrance loomed before me; then I was through. The sudden change from early morning light to the utter blackness of the cave temporarily robbed me of vision. My sonic sensor screens, however, told me I had flown through an opening at the top of a wide cavern, about forty feet deep. I could make out the other flyers, four of them, grounded at the bottom of the cavern. I steered for them, wondering who the missing flyer was. I prepared for landing, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly. Even though my current glide speed felt slow compared to my earlier power-flight, the ground was coming up fast, and our flyers were not adapted for ground landings. My flyer touched down, jarring me with the impact, and slid along the cavern floor, the bubble making painful sounds against the rock. I ignored it.

  "Who's missing?" I queried before my flyer had ground to a complete halt.

  "Kor."

  This could mean trouble.

  "Mahz! Are you sure she confirmed...?"

  "Here she is now, Commander."

  My eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness now. I could make out the shape of Kor's swooping silently down on us from the mouth of the cave.

  I was burning with questions, but held them in check. You do not distract someone with questions while they're trying to crash-land a flyer.

  Finally she touched it down, the flyer coming to a halt a few feet from the others. By this time we were all out of flyers and waiting for her.

  "Kor! Explain your delay."

  I was aware my head was sinking dangerously close to the flat position of extreme anger. Apparently she noticed it, for as she rose from her flyer, her head position denoted both anger and defense.

  "I encountered the Enemy, Commander. There were three-"

  "Did they see you?"

  "Yes, but I destroyed all three of them and swept the immediate area for any others, that's why I was-"

  "Zur!" I diverted my attention to my second-in-command, who had approached behind Kor as we spoke, his massive ten-foot height dwarfing her sixfoot stature.

  "Yes, Commander?"

  "Is there any evidence known of telepathic powers in the Enemy?"

  "None known, but it is not beyond speculation. Many of the lower orders of insects are known to communicate telepathically."

  I turned from them abruptly.

  "Ssah! Check your indicators. Is the power-source still broadcasting?"

  "Yes, Commander."

  "Then you and Mahz pivot your flyers around and use the hot-beams to seal the cave."

  I turned back to Kor, my tail lashing angrily despite my efforts to control it.

  "Kor, I have a direct order for you. Even though you are without question the most efficient fighter on the team, I will not have the unit's safety jeopardized by independent action. In the future, if you contact the Enemy, you are to so inform the team immediately. If you do not, it will be considered a direct breach of orders."

  There was a rumbling crash, and the meager light in the cavern disappeared. The cave was sealed. I turned and raised my voice in the darkness.

  "Now use your narrow beams to open a tunnel to the surface. I want it to be just large enough to allow us passage one at a time on all fours."

  There was a moment of silence.

  "That will be impossible, Commander."

  "Explain."

  "The power-source has just stopped broadcasting."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  We were effectively buried alive. I considered the problem carefully.

  "Did anyone bring a glow-bulb in their personal gear?"

  "I did, Commander." Ahk's voice came out of the blackness.

  "I feel it would be in the team's best interests if you lit it now."

  "Agreed. It is still in my flyer, so if I could get a sound fix from either of the two who were at the flyers when the cave was sealed-"

  "Ssah here. Your flyer is about four feet to my left. Would you like me to keep talking to serve as a beacon, or do you have the location?"

  "I have it. I'll fetch the bulb now, Commander."

  I heard a faint scratching as he moved past me. Even though nothing could be seen in this total absence of light, I knew clearly enough what he was doing to visualize it in my mind's eye. He was edging slowly sideways across the cavern, one hand sweeping the area in front of his head and shoulders, his tail probing for obstacles in the path of his feet and legs. It was not the first time Tzen had had to operate in a total absence of light. The probability of his stumbling was practically nonexistent.

  "Ssah! When you scouted the cave, did you have an opportunity t
o give it a full scan with your sonic screen?"

  "I did, Commander."

  "Are there any other openings to the outside of any size?"

  "None."

  A pinpoint of light appeared, widening to disclose the entire small glowing ball as Ahk twisted the glow-bulb to its fullest setting. The light revealed the rest of the team standing around the cavern. They had remained motionless in the darkness to avoid blundering into Ahk's path, but now that a light source had been reestablished, they became animated again.

  "Where would you like the light, Commander?"

  "Just set it on top of your flyer for now."

  My eyes were rapidly adapting to the dim light. Features of the cavern were becoming visible again. I was impressed with the glow-bulbs and made a mental note to include one in my personal gear in the future. Though the visibility was improving, I was pleased that Ssah had used her sonics to check the chamber. It would have taken a great deal of time to perform a close visual check for other openings, whereas the sonics had provided us with the same data in a matter of seconds. It was an efficient use of available equipment.

  "My preliminary scouting also showed no other life, plant or animal, in the cavern."

  This added bit of data from Ssah was needless. I had assumed that had there been other life, she would have told me in her initial report, particularly in Enemy-held terrain. I was not sure if this was another display of her tendency to overassert herself, or if it was a subtle implication that she felt my earlier question about the sonic scan was also needless. However, there were other, more pressing problems to be dealt with.

  I surveyed the cavern again, gauging distances and performing a few mental calculations. No, oxygen supply should not be a problem. There would be no need to put the team in Deep Sleep while the work progressed.

  I moved to my own flyer.

  "Zur!"

  He appeared at my side. I extracted a hand-burner from my personal weapon stock and handed it to him. He examined it swiftly. Not many Tzen used the hand-burners. They were still new and relatively untested in combat, so preference was usually given to the old hand weapons or their recent modified relatives. I had not really intended to use the burner when I chose my weapons, but brought it along to accustom myself to having it ready at hand. Our unexpected situation of being stranded had elevated its importance, and I had been mentally making plans as how to best utilize its devastating capacities. The abrupt demise of the major power-source cut that planning short. The hand-burner's compact independent powersource now had an immediate demand to answer.