Jack Williamson Eldren 01 Lifeburst

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thing, Quin. The old voice fell. Stay away from this Barranca.
Unsteadily the Tycoon reached to touch Quin s arm.
Keep safe, son. A husky whisper. Keep my number. Keep in touch
Quin stopped listening.
Beyond that ancient desk, behind the Tycoon, a door was sliding open. Benito
Barranca darted through it, clutching a lifted blade that flashed like glass.
Sir!
Quin gasped and pointed. The Tycoon spun his chair, scrabbled through the
clutter on the desk, whirled back with a heavy black weapon.
It crashed.
But Barranca was already over him, stabbing savagely.
That crystal blade turned crimson. Bright scarlet sprayed through the tan
shipsuit. The frail old body jerked and sagged. The gun fell out of a lifeless
hand.
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Jack Williamson - Eldren 1 - Lifeburst (v1.1)

Adios, viejo
! Barranca grinned at the toppling body. God reward your sons. Jason for his
idiot High
House agents they set up my game. This bastardo for the pawn he played.
Empty-handed, Quin staggered forward.
Take it Barranca coughed red foam and tossed the dagger. For your linda
Mindi!
He darted back the way he had come.
Ears ringing, Quin heard shouts and then a siren screaming. Looking down, he
found the dagger in his hand.
Her heart ached for the forager, a puny little thing, not a third the size of
her dead prince. Licking off the last poor shreds of its little shell, her hot
tongue revealed all its pathetic imperfections.
Sexless, it could never love or breed. Nearly mindless, it would never know
the splendid history of their conqueror kind. Mute, it could never learn to
chant the proud old sagas. In the end, it would be only a meager morsel for
some later sibling offended by its fragile impotence.
Yet it was her first, and vital to the hive.
Burning with pity and pride, she watched it wobbling to its feeble feet,
flexing its tiny tail. Crooning gently to it, she woke the simple drives it
must obey. When it was strong enough, she nuzzled it outside.
You re a searcher, she told it. A searcher for good food-metal. The heat
you feel will guide you to richer stuff closer to the star. When you taste it,
you will know its goodness. On your way, you must find hot metal to fill your
own little belly and cold flight-mass to drive you. You will gather what is
good and bring it home to me. Radiant metal to make your princely brothers and
your queenly sisters beautiful and strong.
It had no voice to answer. Not even any actual understanding of its great duty
to her and the hive. Yet she saw its tiny eyes shine redder, reflecting her
love. She watched it spread and test its tiny wings, felt its crushed
bewilderment when they found no air.
You ll need them, baby, when you come to raid the planets, but they won t
help you here.
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Jack Williamson - Eldren 1 - Lifeburst (v1.1)
She filled its wee flight sacs and stroked its tail to kindle its fledgling
jet. Learning, it blundered into the barrier wall and tumbled back into a
cloud of lifted Stardust. Her heart burned hot when at last she saw it
climbing off the asteroid.
It was back too soon, frail jaws empty, aquiver with terror. Voiceless, it
couldn t say what had alarmed it. She left it hiding deep in the hive, while
she crept out to look for the danger.
Only a gnat.
Or, in fact, a midget shipload of gnats, flying out toward the point where she
had eaten their orbital fort. Creatures altogether harmless, probably not even
aware of her hive in the asteroid. She coaxed her frightened forager back
outside.
You should catch them, she urged it. Just for practice. They aren t really
fit to eat, though the sly little midges will make fine sport when your big
brothers go out to hunt.
Whimpering, it wrapped its poor little tail around her leg and clung fast. She
felt it trembling.
Baby, baby! She stroked the feeble fire in its little belly. They can t
hurt you. They can t hurt anything. Hit them, baby. Hit them hard!
The red sparks lit its eyes again. Its wee jet puffed warm against her face,
and again it lifted. She watched it hover, uncertainly searching, until at
last it flew to meet the gnat-ship.
The gnats veered to meet it.
Their arrogance delighted her. Miserable pygmies, pretending to guard their
star with the fortress she had eaten, daring now to challenge her brave little
forager. Her heart burning hotter, she watched the encounter.
Her forager wavered when their toy lasers blazed, but only for a moment. They
came straight to meet it. She watched its tiny tail bending, watched its
feeding jet flash, watched the gnat-ship veiled in exploding plasma.
A tiny victory, but enough to whet its uncertain courage. Seeming stronger,
bolder, it flew on toward the gnat-infested planets closer to the star.
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Her own daring champion!
Pride burning fiercely, she crept back into the natal chambers to turn and
warm the larger eggs that would soon be hatching queens and princes. They
would people her hive with beauty and splendor, brighten it with all the
ferocious passion she once had felt, but that first forager would live forever
in a comic epic of its own, a hilarious saga she would be singing to delight
its future siblings, even after the certain tragicomic climax, when one of
them would surely snap it up.
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Jack Williamson - Eldren 1 - Lifeburst (v1.1)
Solarpolitics.
A Machiavellian philosophy of power developed by the leaders of the House of
Kwan to advance and justify their long domination of the solar system. Denying
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all the dogmas of democracy, it relied on economic advantage, political
corruption, and missiles in space to defend the privileged position of the
Sunmarked elite above the masses of mankind
.
15
�^�
QUIN STOOD NUMB WITH SHOCK AND HORROR, WATCHING The dead Tycoon sagging slowly
out of the chair into the crawling pool of blood. Reaching out to stop the
toppling body, he found the sticky-hilted dagger clutched in his own quivering
hand.
He flung it away. It clanged against the wall, clattered back into the red
gouts around his feet. He caught a sobbing breath and choked on the acrid
smoke from the ancient gun. Ears ringing, he heard the siren screech again and
boots drumming down the great hall where the Tycoon had met him.
Beyond the desk, that farther door was gliding shut. He plunged at it, scraped
through, and found himself in the Tycoon s bedroom. A severe little chamber,
antiquated as the office. A narrow bed, an old wooden chair, shelves of books
along two walls. A trail of blood led his eyes across the floor to a tall wall
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