furrow across the desert before wedging itself up against the low stone wall that marked the perimeter of the military complex.
A bomb-disposal technician was scanning the crumpled shape of the missile with a small device, probably a handheld X-ray machine. Another soldier waved them to a halt, well away from the missile, and directed them onto another road that curved away to their right. It was a road in name only, with stones making two rudimentary lanes through the desert around the perimeter wall.
From inside came the sound of sirens, many of them with different tones, meshed together into a discordant wailing symphony. A hundred separate fires were sending up towers of smoke that merged into a thin, gauzy blanket as they rose. Everywhere were medivac rotorcraft and hospital ships, with their familiar large red crosses on the side—an Earth symbol that the aliens had adopted to avoid confusion.
“That is the third dud I have seen already today,” Yozi said, his eyes on the missile as the drivers turned onto the new route.
“Scumbugz technology is junk,” Chisnall said, with what he hoped sounded like a sneer. “Lucky for us, eh!”
Yozi twisted around from the front seat of the Land Rover and drilled Chisnall with his blue-black pupils. “There were many more that were not duds. I do not think we were lucky today.”
“Of course,” Chisnall said. He covered his face with his hands for a moment. After a while he asked, “What do they hope to achieve with a raid like this?”
There was silence. Yozi was still staring at him. Had he seen right through Chisnall’s disguise? Chisnall felt naked in front of this creature’s dark eyes, as if his human soul were exposed. He willed himself to remain perfectly calm.
“For fifteen years we’ve been systematically wiping these scumbugz off their own planet,” Yozi said. “You think they haven’t been watching? Learning? Adapting? They’ve been studying our tactics, stealing our technology to use against us. Now they’re fighting back. If we can’t finish them off soon, this planet is going to become a graveyard.”
“True,” Chisnall said.
He glanced back at the “dud” missile. Yozi was right about the fight back, but he was wrong about the missile. There was nothing faulty about it. There were at least twenty of them scattered over the base, assuming that all of them had got past the alien defenses. Most of the “faulty” missiles were actually radio jammers, sent in specifically to disrupt alien communications. The only working comms in this area right now were those of the Angel Team, operating on a different frequency that was not being jammed.
But not all the duds were radio jammers. Some had a much more sinister purpose.
“Can I use your comm to contact my commander?” Chisnall asked, as if he had just thought of it. “Our comms are not working.”
Yozi shook his head. “All radio communication is down.”
“How could that be?” Chisnall asked.
“I don’t know,” Yozi said. “No matter. We will take you to your HQ straight after we drop off the prisoners. Your commander will be very surprised to see you.”
“That’s for sure,” Brogan said.
Kezalu continued to sing as they jolted their way around the unsealed track outside the perimeter wall. His voice was a gentle birdsong compared to the harsh wailing that came from inside the base.
Chisnall glanced around and found Alizza staring at him intently. He held his gaze, and eventually Alizza found something else to look at.
Uluru towered over them, dominating the sky. Again and again, Chisnall’s eyes were drawn to it. He decided to risk a casual question. “You Republican Guards protect Uluru,” he said. “Do you ever go inside?”
Yozi seemed not to have heard the question. “Did you know that human males and females bond for life?” he asked.
“Your ass makes words!” Zabet looked around in disbelief.
“It’s true.”
“Not always,” Brogan said, and added, “I’ve heard.”
“Can you imagine that?” Yozi said. “You take only one mate and stay with them until they die.”
“Human lives must be incredibly miserable,” Brogan said.
“We will put them all out of their misery,” Alizza said.
“Hey, Kezalu.” Zabet grinned. “Imagine if you could only be with one female for the rest of your life.”
“Might be all right,” Kezalu said. “As long as it wasn’t you.”
“Oh, now you cause me tears,” Zabet said, steering the Land Rover around a gaping pothole in the road.
“But think what that must do to the gene pool,” Yozi said. “Each female only has children from one male. No crosspollination. It’s a wonder they evolved