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could make his way out and deactivate the security systems himself.”

Turning pale, Petty quickly said, “Wait! My network of secret police is distributed all across

the country. We have emergency procedures, too—and you can bet they were better prepared

than most other people. We always expected something terrible to happen.”

“The advantages of being paranoid,” Jommy said.

“We have contact protocols. I can help you bring them together, maybe mount a resistance.

Who else is going to be organized enough to fight for Earth? You couldn’t have a better starting

point, once the dust settles here.”

“If he does have that network,” Kathleen realized, “then it’s better to have him with us,

where we can keep an eye on him, rather than off by himself where he can turn the secret

police against us.”

“If nothing else, he might make a good hostage,” Jommy said. The slan hunter didn’t seem

to know whether to be pleased or annoyed with their assessment of his value.

“For the time being, you have your uses, Mr. Petty,” Gray said. “Now let’s get out of here

before the whole thing comes down on our heads.”

Finally, they emerged into the shadowy forest, swinging open a vine-covered grate that

would have been all but invisible to anyone wandering among the trees. Getting his bearings,

Jommy cast around for where he had left the car, then he led them on an hour-long search

until they at last discovered the dark machine hidden in the underbrush.

Jommy had never seen anything so beautiful in his life (with the exception of Kathleen). He

had designed and built the vehicle using all the best technologies and materials he had been

able to put together. Petty had encountered the car once before, just after his secret police had

shot Kathleen in the slan hideout. Even so, he had a difficult time pretending that he wasn’t

impressed.

Gray went immediately to the vehicle’s door. “We’ve got to get out of here, and it’s best if

the tendrilless think we’re all dead.”

They all climbed inside, and Jommy sat behind the driving controls, which were keyed to

him alone. The engine powered up, and the guidance responded to his touch. “I can drive us

out of here, and fast.”

“But where will we go?” Kathleen called from the back seat. “If Centropolis is under attack

and the tendrilless are looking for us—”

“I know the perfect secluded place, a distant valley where we can all be safe.” As he

accelerated out of the shielded tunnel and burst into the open smoke-filled sky, Jommy

quirked his lips in a wry smile. “I just hope Granny will take us in.”

Part 2

«
^
»

From his headquarters office in the Martian city of Cimmerium, Jem Lorry received the vivid

images from his vanguard forces at Earth. This was one of the most satisfying moments in his

life.

Jem played the footage twice more just to savor it, then he picked up the display plate and

hurried to show his father and the Authority members. Seeing this, they would have to admit

that he had been right all along.

He marched into the cavernous crystal-ceilinged room, where the council members were

packing up for the day. With a shout, he made the seven old men turn around. “I have news

from Earth, glorious news! I must show it to you.”

Altus looked impatient, as if he had tolerated enough from his son, but Jem stepped

directly up to the podium where supplicants addressed the tendrilless Authority in open

session. He plugged in his display plate and transferred the images to the tandem screens in

front of all seven members. “Behold the fall of the human government! We have won. It was

even smoother and more absolute than I had dreamed possible.”

The transmitted images showed the devastation of Centropolis in impeccable detail. At first

the cameras tracked across the city streets: collapsing skyscrapers, flaming vehicles, panicked

pedestrians. Then the view centered in on the towering palace. Like a flock of hungry raptors,

the tendrilless attack ships zeroed in, exchanged orders, then swooped down in perfect

formation. Their bomb-bay doors opened to drop load after load of weapons on the grand

structure.

The detonations occurred simultaneously, shockwaves crashing against each other,

reinforcing and amplifying the destruction. Flames roared to the skies. Ornate and spectacular

towers that had stood as landmarks for centuries now toppled into rubble.

A hundred stories tall, highlighted with crystalline spires, parapets, and remarkable

architecture, the ancient slan-designed palace collapsed under the bombardment. The

Presidential quarters, the administrative chambers, staff rooms and records vaults, formal

dining halls and galleries lined with state portraits. After the palace collapsed, secondary

detonations spat out bright orange flowers, columns of black smoke and plumes of debris. The

images zoomed in on the burning rubble and smoking pit.

Jem stood tall, supremely confident. “Right now, every surviving human in the city is

staring in despair, weeping for what they’ve lost. Even I didn’t expect their defenses to crumble

so easily, though I did take care to make their small space navy ineffective. I’ll bet President

Gray was quite surprised.”

Altus scratched his chin as he watched the replaying images. “We expected more resistance

from Earth because we thought the true slans would come out of hiding at last. Are you sure

there has been no sign of them?”

“None at all. If anything could flush out the snakes, this should have done it. It is time for

the Authority to face the only possible conclusion:
There are no more true slans
. We’ve heard

rumors for so long, but they’re just that: rumors.”

“Rumors? And what about Jommy Cross or Kathleen Layton?”

Jem covered his pained expression at the thought of Kathleen. With her true slan genetics

and Jem’s tendrilless bloodline, their offspring would certainly have been superior. But she had

rebuffed his advances. What a fool the girl had been! No doubt Kathleen had been inside the

palace when it was destroyed. His lips pulled down in a bitter frown. She could have been with

him.

“The only slans left are insignificant throwbacks, one or two genetic mistakes. They belong

in a museum with other extinct species.”

Altus said, “You draw sweeping conclusions from a relatively small amount of evidence.”

One of the other Authority members added, “We can’t be too careful.” The other old men

nodded, mumbling to each other.

A flush of anger came to Jem’s cheeks. The Authority—and his own father—seemed intent

on stalling every bit of progress he made. “Our irrational fear of the slans has set us back by

centuries! We were so sure they were hiding, building great weapons, preparing invincible

defenses against us. We wasted generations establishing our fortified city here on Mars,

building an invincible fleet. We laid down an extensive space mine field around Earth orbit to

guard it—and from what? We’ve squandered a fortune and years of effort building bastions

against an enemy that doesn’t even exist.”

“Thank you for your interesting report, my son. We will draw our conclusions once we’ve

received a report from our operative on the scene.” Altus switched off the display plate, and his

fellow Authority members did the same. “She should arrive soon.”

Jem blinked, feeling left out. “What other operative? I am in charge of this strike.”

“Joanna Hillory. We have already dispatched her to Earth.”

“On what mission? How dare you go around me?”

“We are the Tendrilless Authority. We decide what is best,” Altus said in a patient voice.

“We sent her to find Jommy Cross, whom we consider to be our largest threat. After we have

interrogated that outlaw slan—by whatever extreme means necessary—we will discover all we

need to know.”

«
^
»

The sleek armored car raced toward the outskirts of the city, escaping from the holocaust.

Behind them, the palace was completely destroyed. Overhead, enemy spacecraft continued to

criss-cross the sky in search of targets. Once they had leveled Centropolis, the tendrilless

attackers would spread out to the fringe areas, the smaller cities and towns. The invaders would

not leave the job half finished.

Jommy drove through the late afternoon, dodging rubble, and continued to accelerate. The

thick tires hummed across the cracked and blistered pavement. His reflexes were sufficient to

dodge stalled cars, an overturned wagon, even a wide crater made by a stray bomb.

“Jommy, are you sure we’ll be safe where we’re going?”

“I can’t guarantee we’ll be safe anywhere, Kathleen, but we’ve got a good chance.” His

fingers danced across controls on the dashboard, illuminating a map. “It should take us about

five hours to get there.”

“That’s assuming the roads and bridges along the way aren’t blown up,” said John Petty

from the back.

“If there are obstacles, we will deal with them,” Gray said.

“Obstacles?” Petty said. “I’d say the end of the world as we know it is a pretty substantial

obstacle!” Then the slan hunter slumped back into silence.

Jommy’s special car hugged the ground, moving almost as fast as an aircraft. After they left

the outskirts of the city and headed toward the farmland and forested hills, he began to feel

safer.

The car roared along isolated roads, making steady progress on the map projected on his

dashboard. The ranchers and farmers who lived in the rolling countryside had holed up in

storm shelters and root cellars, hiding from the interplanetary attack. No one else moved

about. The sun would set soon, and then they would be safer.

His unusual vehicle, moving alone, inadvertently called attention to itself.

Red lights flashed on his sensitive detection systems, and from outside he heard a whining

tone. He gripped the steering mechanism and looked around wildly. “Proximity alert.

Something coming closer.” Flipping a toggle switch, he shifted the ten-point steel of the car’s

roof into its transparent phase so that he could look overhead. “There!”

Three dark craft swooped down, the blunt-nosed tendrilless cruisers. For many years in his

youth, he had seen similar fast vehicles launched regularly from the rooftop of the Air Center.

“They’ve spotted us.”

“Worse—they’ve
targeted
us.” Kathleen craned her neck.

Plunging like hungry hawks, the tendrilless cruisers dropped focused explosives. The

bombs blasted craters on either side of the country road, coughing up thick plumes of dirt and

smoke. Jommy swerved, squeezing more power from the engine, but even with all his

technological improvements, he could not make the car go faster.

The tendrilless bombers curved upward in a graceful loop, as if to show off their aerial

maneuvers, then they came back down like a trio of executioners’ axes. They would never let

the car get away.

Jommy narrowed his eyes, his senses alert. He had to time this very carefully. Once the

tendrilless ships dropped their next array of focused bombs, he needed to react perfectly and

unexpectedly. The invaders cracked through the air, and the cluster of bombs dropped down

exactly where the car should have been.

Jommy swerved, spun the rear tires, and hoped he had built sufficient clearance into the

armored vehicle. The car bucked off the paved road, kicked up gravel as it went over the

shoulder and through the shallow ditch. He didn’t slow for an instant, but careened across the

fallow countryside into the roadless rolling fields and grassy hills. Dirt and corn stalks flew up

in a roostertail behind him. Ahead, past a small marker fence, he saw a thick line of dark trees,

a patch of forest that had regrown after the old Slan Wars.

As he hit boulders and ruts, soft dirt and gravel, Jommy had a hard time maintaining his

grip on the steering controls. At full speed, he dove through a small pond, hoping it wasn’t too

deep. Muddy water gushed in all directions, and then he was clear, arrowing straight toward

the line of trees and, he hoped, shelter.

The tendrilless bombers had turned about again and raced after him, launching another