The Xenocide Mission Read Online Free

information gone for ever.
    He glanced round at his captors. He could see through their visors: the maned heads and flat faces; the small, dark eyes, wide apart and perfect for triangulating on prey; the mouths with their bared shark’s teeth.
    A hundred and one lost memories flashed across his mind. Earth. His parents. Seeing the sun, holding a girl in his arms and kissing her, drinking a glass of good wine. These alien bastards were taking it all away from him.
    He grinned and held up a single finger at them.
    ‘And swivel,’ he said. Then they came at him.

Two
    Day Five: 7 June 2153
    She awoke from the sleep that was almost death and every part of her being screamed the command:
Food!
    The faint, sweet tang of an animal drifted into the cave from outside, touching her olfactory pores, and she exploded into action; one moment a somnolent, curled-up ball, the next a ferocious predator with just one imperative on her mind. One bound got her to her feet; another took her to the mouth of the cave where she squatted on her legs and feeding arms, her hunting arms flexed out in front of her. A faint growl radiated from her vocal membranes as she scanned the forest ahead of her and her claws slid in and out by reflex.
    A moment’s pause. A faint breeze; leaves rustling; minute vibrations in the undergrowth that her hearing membranes picked up and amplified and turned into an image of sound all around her.
That
was two branches rubbing together.
That
was a nearby stream. But
that
. . .
    That was the source of the scent.
    A final bound took her flying into the centre of a nearby bush, claws extended, teeth bared. There was a squeal from beneath her as she landed. A small, furry form shot out of the undergrowth, and the chase was on.
    Branches slapped at her face as she raced through the trees, hunting arms outstretched; she barely noticed, her mind fixed firmly on the fleeing meal ahead of her. It dodged; she dodged. It ran faster; she ran faster. Every sense, every impulse she had was dedicated to catching this creature. Another instinct within her told her she was burning resources at a dangerous rate. They were already low after her sleep of half a year, and she had better get her prey soon.
    The end came when the animal had to dodge a fallen trunk. It was too close to the ground to see it coming and it suddenly had to swerve to one side. But she had seen the trunk, and anticipated the move, and she made her own final sideways leap just before the animal. It gave a final squeal as the claws of her hunting arms sunk into it, and then her teeth tore into the flesh and hot, rich blood squirted into her throat. She finished it in a moment, threw out her arms and let rip a mighty blast of triumph.
    The need for food was still there, but now much less urgent. She had her strength back; she could afford to relax just a little. Something was growing within her mind, a self-awareness that began to exercise control over her purely animal body. It told her to keep going, not to slacken off now. And then her pores picked up another prey scent and the awareness lingered just long enough to tell her to follow it, before withdrawing and letting her animal instinct do the rest.
    Three hunts later, she was fully sated. The self-awareness was back and this time it grew and grew until it had taken her mind completely over, while the animal semi-sentience was pushed back into the darkness.
    She stood up slowly and stretched, wiping her mouth. She knew who and what she was. She was Kin. She was Oomoing of the Scientific Institute; she had awoken from her latest sleep; it was time to get on with her life again.
    She turned at a footstep behind her. A young male in the uniform of the Space Presence. His hunting arms were folded politely behind him and his feeding arms held out a robe.
    ‘Wakefulness, Learned Mother,’ he said.
    ‘Wakefulness, Loyal Son.’ She looked at him curiously while she took the robe and put it on. A quick scan through her