and on his own, it was impossible to pick him out of the crowd.
“I don’t like this,” said the Visionary. He addressed his comment to the Brethren commander. He had no separate title; the Brethren were not believers in assigned rank since they felt that all were equal. But there were those who, by dint of their personalities, became natural leaders and were simply recognized as such without receiving a separate designation. In the Visionary’s mind, he thought of such individuals as commanders and spoke to one now. “It’s too easy. They’re trying to draw us in.”
“They have no archers in higher positions,” replied the Commander. His voice was soft, almost purring, a stark contrast to his armored appearance. “They have surrendered the high ground. They are foolish to confront us.”
“You’re missing the point,” said the Visionary. “Calhoun would not be that foolish.”
“Obviously he is. And we will take advantage of it before they have the opportunity to think better of it.”
“Have you possibly considered—?”
“We have considered every possibility. Take us to within landing range,” the Commander ordered.
The ship had no navigator or pilot; it was completely automatic, all such duties handled by easily controlled computers. It was the philosophy of the Brethren that such duties were best left to machines since it allowed the Brethren’s time to be open for matters of far greater consequence, such as fighting, killing, and proving their superior strength by fighting and killing.
Having been issued orders, the ship descended. Shortly they were hovering close enough to the ground that the Brethren would be able to safely descend, cushioned within armor that would absorb the impact. There were limits as to what both the armor and the bodies of the Brethren were able to withstand, but those limits had been finely calculated and accounted for.
They came lower, nearing but not quite coming into contact with the uppermost reaches of the spires. There were weapons on board the vessel, but there was no point in opening fire on the masses below. What would be the sport in that?
The rest of the Brethren were assembling, preparing for the jump. As opposed to their initial appearance on Xenex, when they had landed one at a time, this time they would open the main bay door and descend en masse. They would present a united front of shock and awe, and thus would the Xenexians know that their end was imminent. With any luck, they would surrender. It would be excellent if they did that, because it was always entertaining to see the surprised expressions of surrendering people when you killed them.
“I wish you would listen to me,” said the Visionary. “The wisdom of this move—”
“We leave wisdom to effete intellectuals such as yourself,” said the Commander.
The squadron of Brethren, more than a hundred strong, had now assembled and were ready for the leap to the planet surface below. The Xenexians were bellowing defiance so loudly that their voices were carrying up to the ship. The Brethren, by contrast, did not have any joint cheers or shouts of superiority. They preferred to let their fighting do their speaking for them.
“Go!” called out the Commander.
The bay door irised open. Below them, the shouts from the Xenexians were even more audible, and the Visionary was able to pick out certain words from amid the overall crush of noise. None of them was particularly flattering.
“Look at them,” said the Commander. “So fierce. So determined. So foolish.”
The Visionary strained to look down among them. He still didn’t see Calhoun. “Their leader isn’t present.”
“He’s doubtless hiding down there somewhere. We will find him. And they will see that their legend can die as easily as any of them.”
“That is not the plan,” the Visionary said sharply. “We have been over this. Calhoun has become a symbol of defiance to too many races. We need to maximize—”
“The plans have changed,” said the Brethren. “The last time we changed plans, we slaughtered others of your race. If you stand in our way, you can share the same fate.”
The Visionary regarded him for a moment and then said quietly, “Best of fortune in your endeavors.”
The Commander of the Brethren turned away from the Visionary then as if he no longer mattered and went straight for the bay door. With several quick steps he was out, and the rest of the Brethren leaped behind him. The ship tilted slightly with the sudden shift in weight, and the Brethren landed with such force that the entire landscape seemed to