Footfall

“Experts?”

“Yes, sir. They’re science-fiction writers.”

Who else? And the President isn’t laughing …

“Why did they run away, then, Mr. Ransom?”

“We don’t know, and we don’t like it,” Ransom said. “Back in the Red Room you can get a dozen opinions. Curtis and Anson are back there trying to get a consensus, but I don’t think they’ll do it. The aliens could have their mates and children aboard that main ship. They came a long way.”

“I see,” David Coffey said. He looked around the big control room. “Is there somewhere I can sit down?”

“You’d do better to get some rest,” Admiral Carrell said.

“So should you.”

“After you, sir. Someone has to be on duty. We might get through to the Russians again.”

This time Jenny couldn’t help laughing. When the President and Admiral Carrell stared at her, she giggled, then sobered quickly. “I never thought we’d be so eager to hear from the Russians.”

Carrell’s smile was forced. “Yes. It is ironic. However—”

He broke off as red lights flashed and a siren wailed through the enormous room. The Admiral took a headset from one of the sergeants. After a moment he said, “They haven’t all left. They just hit a major highway junction.”

“Highway junctions. Railroad yards. Dams.” the President muttered.

“Yes,” Admiral Carrell agreed. “But not cities or population centers. San Diego but not New York harbor. Cities along major riven are flooded, some severely. Some parts of the country are undamaged but have no electricity. Others are without power, and effectively isolated. Some places have electric power and are utterly untouched. It’s an odd way to fight a war.”

Message Bearer hummed. The vibration from the main fusion drive was far higher than any normal range of hearing; but it shook the bones, and it was always there. Sleepers and spaceborn alike had learned to ignore it during the long days of deceleration into Winterhome system. It could not be sensed until it was gone.

… It was gone. Thrust period was over. The floor eased from under the Herdmaster and he floated. Six eights of digit ships had been left behind to implement the invasion, while Message Bearer fell outward toward the Foot. The acceleration, the pulses of fusion light and gamma rays, had been blocked by the mass of Winterhome’s moon. Let Winterhome’s masters try to detect her, an inert speck against the universe.

The Herdmaster blew a fluttering sigh. Several hours of maneuvers had left him exhausted. It was good to be back in free-fall, even for a few minutes.

“That’s over,” he said. “Now we’ll trample the natives a little and see what they do.”

“It’s their terrain. We will lose some warriors,” Fathisteh-tulk’s lids drooped in sleepy relaxation, and the Herdmaster spared him a glare. The Herdmaster’s Advisor had himself been Herdmaster; he could have saved the Herdmaster this chore, spared him for other work … except that spaceborn warriors might not take his orders. He was a sleeper; his accent marked him.

So he was being unjust. But Fathisteh-tulk enjoyed the situation. The Herdmaster sighed again and turned to the intercom. “Get me Breaker-Two.”

Takpusseh too spoke with the archaic sleeper accent, He stood at a desk littered with alien artifacts.

“You have spoken with the prey,” the Herdmaster asked.

“I have spoken with one of them, Herdmaster. This one is of the Land Mass Two herd that babbled to us as we approached. Some of the others speak that language, but they are not part of that herd.”

“What have you learned?”

“Herdmaster, I do not know what we learned from that interview. Certainly that herdless one did not submit.”

The Herdmaster was silent for a moment. “It was helpless?”

“Herdmaster, I sent an armed octuple to fetch it. I left it naked, and required it to stand before my table. It demanded explanations. It was abusive!”

“Yet it lives? You show remarkable restraint.”

Takpusseh vented a fluttering snort. “I did not understand all it said at the time. It was only after it was sent back to the restraining pen that we listened carefully to the recordings. Herdmaster, these are alien beasts. They do not obey properly. It will take time to make them a part of the Traveler Herd.”

“Perhaps, being herdless, it is insane. Were there others of its herd in the satellite?”

“Yes. It said that its mate had been killed in the attack.”

“It is insane, then. Kill it.”

“Herdmaster, there is no need for haste. It speaks this language the prey call English far better than do the others.”

“Have the others submitted?”

“Herdmaster, I believe they have.”

“The herdless one comes from the continent with the most roads and harbors and dams. Surely the most advanced herd will not all be insane.”

“Surely not, Herdmaster.”

“Do you have advice?”

“Herdmaster, I believe we should continue the plan. Trample the prey before we speak with them. If they are arrogant in defeat, they must be impossible before they are harmed.”

“Very well. Will you continue to speak with this one?”