Quath quickly peered ahead, using the sharp infrared. Motes were spreading away from the outline of the approaching station. <They are quick of wit.>
<No, it is we who are as thick as grubs!>
<They seem to have mastered the mechanisms of those shuttlecraft soon enough.>
<They had time, monopody! You were playing your addled prank.>
Quath bristled. <We both took part in the little amusement.>
<I wished to get on with our assault.>
Quath said as mildly as she could, <Then you should not have helped calculate the precise velocity and angle for my flinging of the little Nought.>
<I—I was sucked in. I had no idea we would suffer such delay, and miss these vermin. We were to take samples, remember?>
Quath watched the shuttles speed away, spreading like fragments of an explosion. A nice escape. Already some swept in close to the glow of the cosmic string, which was rotating on a test run, to try new magnetic flux generators at both poles. The test would last only a bit longer, and would not suck more metal from the core unless there was a pressure failure. The string would keep the Noughts from reaching the upper atmosphere, but as she watched the shuttles they mingled with the great slabs of freeze-formed nickel-iron that laced the high orbits.
Clever pests! She hungered to crush them.
Amid that complex stockpile they could hide quite well, and no doubt planned to do so. These were no mere ground-grubbed Noughts, no. As soon as the cosmic string slowed, they would slip into the planet’s atmosphere and air brake. With each working of the Syphon quakes rocked the planet, but that would scarcely prevent their landing. Once down, they could find easy refuge in the jumbled countryside.
<I shall make clear the cause of this foolish mistake,> Beq’qdahl said ponderously.
Quath spat back, <And I shall rely on the inboard timeline recordings, which will show what a trifling time we spent on our game.>
<You would—?>
<Of course.> Such a measure might not carry significant weight with the elders of the Hive, but Quath was determined to try.
Beq’qdahl paused, obviously reconsidering. Their ship cruised along its approach orbit. The station ahead seemed inactive now. Its bays yawned empty, shuttle ships gone.
A mech-slave signal peeped forth on the main board before Quath. A large craft hung near the station, probably the Noughts’.
<We can search that cobbled-together ship,> Beq’qdahl said.
<I doubt any Noughts remain there,> Quath said.
<Still…>
<And it looks to be a cramped, skinny ship. We will have to wedge ourselves into its bowels and search thoroughly.>
<Well, perhaps I can take another position in this entire matter,> Beq’qdahl said judiciously.
<I should hope so.>
<After all, we have rid the station of pests, have we not?>
<True—and without firing a shot.>
<We can report to the Hive that the mere sight of us approaching, and our ferocious battlecries, frightened them off.>
<I do not recall that I issued any cries.>
<I did. And so I shall report.>
Quath decided not to challenge this small lie. <Do you think we will be believed?>
<Surely so!>
Quath relaxed somewhat. She watched one of the fleeing shuttlecraft on the horizon, where it took up orbit above the aura of the Cosmic Circle. Alarm shot through her. <That is the shuttle we intercepted!>
Beq’qdahl ratcheted her pods in disbelief. <No! You were to commandeer it!>
<I did,> Quath cried in frustration.
<Then there must have been another Nought inside. It has seized the vessel.> Beq’qdahl’s electro-aura seethed with malice.
Acrid hormones flooded the cabin as both of them suffered involuntary embarrassment. Their bodies acted to rid their lymph chambers of the corrosive chemicals generated by their sudden, spiky emotions.
Quath said darkly, <This is a deep humiliation.>
<Yes, and your fault.>
<That will not exempt you, noble pus-sucker.>
Beq’qdahl saw Quath’s threat. Her head swiveled and turned indigo in confusion. <We will both be held accountable?>
<Of course.>
