Drednanth: A Tale of the Final Fall of Man Read Online Free Page B

technically identical, they had genetic-level homogenised characteristics and they were clones . So unless they had distinctive jobs or memorable mannerisms – or, more usually, spectacular flaws – they were generally as interchangeable as their name tags.
    Before they hit full re-entry, Sally floated her compact frame across to the pilot’s chair.
    “I’m exercising the executive authority reserved for Chief Tactical Officer in a combat or rescue scenario aboard a semi-autonomous spacecraft,” she told Zeegon formally, “to assume control of the lander. You can look it up in the Corps regulations when we get back.”
    “You know I’m not going to,” Zeegon said cheerfully. “As far as I’m concerned, the only person with at least eight weapons strapped about her person has just decided to start back-seat driving. What do you want to do, Sal?”
    “So gracefully efficient,” Sally approved, and used the momentum from clapping Zeegon affectionately on the shoulder to propel herself back towards her seat. “Waffa, tell Decay to take the first pass,” she continued firmly, strapping herself in. “Zeeg, take us down over those gantries the Consul was talking about. The ones connecting the hub to the part of the settlement the Fergies are trying to sink. We’re going to cut that habitat loose, buy us some more time.”
    “Right,” Waffa and Zeegon said simultaneously, and went to work as the lander dived into the atmosphere and began to shudder lightly.
    “I take it you’re going to cut that residential block off and let it sink,” Clue said as soon as Waffa had sent his transmission suggesting the other team take the first landing approach. “Just don’t go out of your way to shoot the Fergies. They’re down there, we’re up here.”
    “Copy that,” Waffa said, looking at Sally with clear doubt in his eyes. Sally gave him a poker-faced thumbs-up.
    In relatively short order, they were through the worst of the turbulence and into windy but otherwise reasonably manageable sea air. The planet that Bayn Balro circled – or had circled, before they’d sustained their catastrophic damage – was stormy, but the weather at that moment seemed fairly clement.
    The settlement was in bad shape. There really were only two blocks left of what had once obviously been a sprawling series of structures. Aside from the blocks, a collection of scattered pontoons and free-floating debris drifted in the same current as the bulk of Bayn Balro but seemed largely unsalvageable. The hub still appeared intact, a solid off-white dome studded with heavy-duty portholes and surrounded by an obviously-makeshift sea wall of mesh and spars. The wall curved underneath the hub like a safety-net, and extended above the choppy, slow-rolling surface to a height of perhaps thirty feet.
    Sally was almost certain a motivated Fergunakil, fifty feet long and cybernetically strengthened even if its gadgets were all broken, could tear through it like tissue paper and jump it with even less effort. She remembered Waffa telling her tall tales about the Fergunak where he’d lived during his traineeship. Tall tales, but with at least a kernel of truth to them. At The Warm, or specifically its aquatic habitat … what had it been called? The Cauldron? Something like that. Waffa had told Sally that he’d once seen a young and unaugmented Fergunakil – itself a ‘mere’ thirty feet long – leap almost twice its own body-length straight up into the air, and bring down a remote-controlled drone craft flying overhead for demonstration purposes. The drone had been solidly constructed for battlefield deployment, and had a twenty-foot wingspan. To be honest Sally had been more interested in the specs of the drone back when Waffa had told the story, but the rest had stayed with her and she remembered it now as she looked at the pathetic little net around Bayn Balro’s hub.
    The young shark had demolished the drone, effortlessly. Indeed, as she looked,