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Far in the distance, Mazer saw four white flashes of light high in the atmosphere. The lights descended, streaking downward at hypersonic speed, leaving puffy contrails behind them.

There was another flash of light to Mazer's left, far to the south, heading in their direction.

"Nine o'clock," said Wit.

"I see it," said Mazer. He swiveled the HERC to the left and angled it upward to allow the sensors to get a better read on the incoming ship.

"Can we get a visual?" asked Wit.

Mazer blinked the command in his HUD, and the transport appeared in the holofield in front of them. There wasn't much to see; a searing heat enveloped the transport, obscuring its nose from view.

"Where is it headed?" asked Wit.

"Already working on it," said Mazer. His hands flew inside the holofield, quickly gathering the data and slinging it into the correct receptacles for processing. The answer appeared on the map, and Mazer's heart sank. "Its trajectory puts it very near Dragon's Den."

"How near is very near?" said Wit. "Near enough that Dragon's Den is clearly its target or far enough away that it could be only a coincidence?"

"Both," said Mazer. "It might be gunning for Dragon's Den. It might not."

"There are civilians down there."

"Thousands of them. Probably mostly women and children."

"Any ideas?" asked Wit.

"We get the transport out of the sky a little sooner than it expected."

"You said this wasn't a combat aircraft," said Wit. "You said we weren't nimble enough."

"All true," said Mazer. "So let's use it for what it was made for."

Mazer's hand quickly moved through the holofield. He had the AI verify the transporter's trajectory and pinpoint its exact position at various points in time. Then he entered a series of commands and the HERC shot forward, slamming him and Wit back against their seats. The altimeter numbers spun as the HERC climbed.

"If there's a plan," said Wit, "now would be a good time to share."

"We can't fire on the transport," said Mazer. "It's shielded. That's how they managed atmospheric entry."

Wit gripped the handhold above his head, his knuckles white. "So we can't shoot it down. Great. That's not a plan."

"We wouldn't want to shoot at it anyway," said Mazer. "Even if it didn't have the shield. Unless you're right on top of them, they can dodge whatever you throw at them. I say we take it down the same way we've taken out other transports. We fill it with grenades."

"Every transport we've disabled was on the ground," said Wit. "We tricked them into landing, then we jumped from the bushes. I fail to see any bushes here at forty thousand feet."

"I'll get above it and seize it with the talons. As soon as the Formics disengage the shield, you cut your way in and toss in the grenades."

"What makes you certain they'll disengage their shields?"

"They'll be threatened. They can't defend themselves with their shields engaged. You know how they are, they retaliate with blind ferocity, even if that puts them at greater risk. Once we clamp on, they'll do anything to lose us, including dropping their shields. And if they don't drop them immediately, they'll drop them when they land. Otherwise they can't disembark from the aircraft. We'll destroy them then."

"I liked it better when I didn't know your plan," said Wit.

"Move back to the main cabin," said Mazer. "The drop door is in the center of the floor. I'll open it when the time is right. Strap yourself into the winch in the ceiling. There are boot anchors in the floor. Lock yourself in tight. Once I open the door, the transport hull will be directly below you. Cut your way in with the laser. Once you drop in the grenades, we detach, get clear, and they become shrapnel in the sky."

"You want to grab an alien spacecraft moving at hypersonic speed?"

"It's not moving at hypersonic speed anymore. It's slowed down drastically. It'll be even slower when we reach it."

"How slow is slow?"


Tags: Orson Scott Card The First Formic War Science Fiction