SUMMARY

They speak human, they operate complex machines. But that’s where the similarities end. Skin Bags think like the anthropomorphic freaks they are. They want a piece of the world. A big piece. That’s where Miller comes in.

Two legs good, four legs bad.

EXCERPT

Spoke saw Inscoe’s hand reach to the control panel and activate the speed brakes, then grab the throttles and jerk them back. The pilot pulled back on the stick and the Speeder decelerated so fast Spoke was slammed forward against the control panel.

“You may want to put on your harness,” Inscoe said calmly.

The Speeder came to a stop, then slowly begin backing up. Dirt, dust and smoke churned from beneath the hydrofoil’s skirt. Inscoe seemed cool and collected as he reached and flipped the switch to drop the speed brakes. The human impressed the Skin Bag commander. He seemed in control. Spoke was glad he hadn’t killed him back in Splinterland.

“Are you ready?” Inscoe asked.

Spoke locked in his harness. “I’m ready,” he said.

“Well, watch this,” the pilot said, shoving the throttles and the stick forward.

The Speeder started down the weed-covered asphalt, rapidly picking up speed. Ahead to their right he saw a cloud of dust between the two hangars. Then suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, he heard the airplane’s jets. Even on the flight deck and through the protection of the headset, the sound was intimidating.

“I want you to take out their cockpit,” Inscoe said. “Don’t worry about their guns, shoot for their windscreen. Your aim is going to be straight out in front of the Scarab.”

The Scarab? Straight out in front?

The pilot’s instructions were confusing. Spoke tried to swallow, but there was no spit in his mouth.

Time no longer hung suspended. Everything accelerated. The atmosphere inside and outside the Speeder was spinning up to what Spoke knew would be a violent crescendo. He liked it, and at the same time, it scared him.

Inscoe slammed the stick hard right, and the hydrofoil spun ninety degrees, but the ship kept its track, crabbing, and they slid to a hovering stop directly in front of the gap between the two hangars. The enemy aircraft was less than two hundred meters away, five or ten meters off the deck, rocking back and forth as trash and other debris blew up and roiled around it. The sound of its engines, which had been loud before, was now incredible.

“Fire,” Inscoe screamed. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

Spoke’s heart pounded in his chest and he pressed the firing button with his thumb, working the star-shaped cursor on the inside of the windscreen to a point just below the airplane’s cockpit. He heard the thirties commence. At the same time, he saw the cannons on the enemy ship light up. There was a stretched-out moment when Spoke saw the rounds coming toward them, racing through space, spinning in the red and green ropes of light created by the tracers. And then, they struck the front of the Speeder, slamming into the armor and impacting the blast proof glass of the windscreen.

“Goddamn,” Spoke cursed and resisted the urge to cover his face with his hands.

“Stay on them,” Inscoe ordered. “Here they come.”

Spoke watched the airplane’s nose drop and it accelerated directly toward them, its cannons still spitting fire and a steady stream of ordnance. The gap between the two machines closed fast, and the Skin Bag thought the pilot in the airplane was going to ram them.

“Jesus,” Inscoe blurted as the airplane pulled up and flew directly overhead with less than a meter of clearance, its jet blast violently rocking their ship.

Spoke still had the firing button on the control stick depressed, and his rounds destroyed the junk remains of a tanker truck that had been behind the airplane. He felt the pilot grab his wrist and jerk his hand off the joystick.

“That’s enough, goddammit,” Inscoe ordered.

Spoke snapped out of wherever he’d been and shook his head. He wondered why they weren’t turning around. They needed to get set up for the plane’s counter attack.

“Oh fuck,” Inscoe said. “I think the rudder actuator’s hung.” The mutant saw the pilot jacking his right leg up and down.

“What do you want me to do?” Spoke asked.

“Pray to Mohammed those fuckers don’t come back around and kill us,” Inscoe said.