Hero! by Dave Duncan Read Free Book Online Page A

today, but as he grabs his shorts from the pile, another hand snags them also. He grins and is grinned at, and both units let go together and reach for another. So the other becomes Orange and the Dreamer is Tan…and Black is poised right on the edge of the bank, so the Dreamer jabs a fast elbow and Black goes over in a howl, and then everyone is into that game and the Dreamer himself is pushed and falling into a splashing surf of brethren… Brothers, I am coming…
    The dream changes…
    There is no moon, and the dorm is dark. Youngsters are meant to be sleeping. But tonight is not a usual night; this night is full of weeping. News has come from Xanacor that the hive is gone. The randoms have attacked it, and the hive is no more. There are pictures, and terrible stories, and the big boys sent the young crops to bed early, saying that there was business to talk tonight, but the Dreamer knows that is just so they can do their own weeping downstairs and not seem sissy and set poor examples.
    Small fry need to weep, too! The Dreamer was allowed to sit on a big boy’s lap for a while and be hugged while he cried, but that is not enough. He has too many more tears to shed. He cannot sleep for thinking of his brethren. Others are sobbing in the warm dark, and just when one gets control of himself, then another unit starts, and the sound brings the lump back to the Dreamer’s throat, and the pictures burn up into the memory again, of units being bayoneted, being strangled, bleeding and burning. His brothers, some no older than himself. Bleeding and screaming. So his sobs start again, gasping, retching, hard-to-breathe sobs.
    He hears movements, and raises his head. Units are moving around, but even as he realizes what is happening, there is a unit already beside him in the dark. Gratefully the Dreamer makes room, and the other unit snuggles in beside him. They hold each other tight and weep together, dribbling tears on each other’s pajamas, weeping for their dead kin in Xanacor.
    “A DMIRAL?”
    Vaun must have been dozing. The harsh voice of the cabin alarm startled him. “Eh? What?”
    “You asked to be advised when you were at closest approach to Forhil.”
    “Oh…right.” He was on his way to Tham’s place.
    He stretched and rubbed his eyes and pulled his wits up like wrinkled socks to straighten them. Dawn burned blood and gold in the east. He had laid in a course for Caslorn International, which would make him seem like an innocent flyby to Tham’s defenses.
    He had not thought up a way to sneak into Forhil; he would have to break in by brute force, and there was no way to do that in a torch.
    Right! Go for it…Although this was his closest approach, he was still far too high, but he snapped over to manual and banked into a dive.
    Two seconds later, red alarms lit up all over the board and the siren screamed in a replay of yesterday. Wishing he had a warm coat with him, he buttoned up his shirt and waited, tensing.
    “Attention 80-775! Attention 80-775! You are entering restricted airspace. Retaliatory action will commence in three minutes. Attention…”
    He let the voice shout, counting seconds, watching airspeed and altitude slide around the vids. Too fast…He eased back, but the scoops could not grip the thin air, merely making the craft shudder and a few more warnings flash on…About two minutes now until the defenses took command and diverted him. That was what had happened every time the previous day. He had tried three times, and three times the defenses had flown him an hour’s flight away before releasing him. Today he wasn’t going to argue.
    One minute…He opened a com channel, voice and video. The warnings dropped to a whisper. The screen stayed blank.
    “Calling Forhil. Tham, this is Vaun. I need to talk to you. I’m alone and unarmed. I’m coming in, Tham!”
    As he disconnected, the shouting resumed. Extreme Hazard lit up on the board. The opposition wasn’t going to blink. Any second