The Xenocide Mission by Ben Jeapes Read Free Book Online Page A

‘We’re not going to eat it.’
    ‘Maybe it doesn’t know that.’ Oomoing decided to content herself with a visual inspection for the time being. ‘Anyway, this is all speculation. Colonel, if you want to supervize this procedure, I suggest you get your gun out. Fleet, you’ve got the camera?’ Fleet held up the device he had brought over from the ship. ‘Then let’s go. Are you recording? Good.’ She looked into the lens. ‘I am Oomoing of the Forensic Institute, present with me are Third Son of the Family Barabadar and . . .?’ She looked at Stormer.
    ‘Stormer, First Son of the Family Dadoi,’ Stormer said.
    ‘. . . and two other males acting as armed guards,’ said Oomoing. ‘I am about to release the tall extraterrestrial captured during the recent engagement . . .’
    Joel studied the five XCs. The wall of the chamber was against his back and he was still poised for futile flight.
    ‘Idiot,’ he muttered to himself, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Those taloned hands reaching out to him; those beady, calculating eyes . . . He had long ago worked out that if the XCs wanted him dead then that was what he would be. But maybe this newcomer had just fancied a bite to eat, or it had been time to start the inevitable torture session that would lead to him spilling the beans on every aspect of Commonwealth technology that he knew about, or . . .
    Well, he just didn’t know. He ran through what little he knew of XC culture for the thousandth time. The soldiers, the guards, the one who had until now seemed to be in charge would all be males. But this big newcomer, who seemed to be giving orders, would almost certainly be female. Maybe even a mother, which made her most senior of all. He didn’t really see having babies as being a sound basis for constitutional government, but it seemed to work for the XCs. So, she would be the one to make decisions. Perhaps he and Boon Round had been held pending the arrival of just this female. Maybe they were under sentence of death, and now was the time to carry it out.
    But the XCs were standing back. Even the guards by the entrance had moved aside. One of the males had what looked like some kind of recording equipment held up to his face, and the female . . .
    The female was actually gesturing at him, then at the door. He didn’t understand the chirps and tones and percussive blows that were XC conversation, but the gestures seemed clear. They wanted him to move, of his own volition.
    ‘Right . . .’ he said. He glanced at Boon Round in his hammock, then back at the door. Then he kicked off from the wall and over to the Rustie.
    Boon Round hardly twitched. Joel was getting worried about his companion. All the electronic equipment on them had been confiscated, which meant no translator unit, which meant he and Boon Round couldn’t even exchange a few words. And he had seen how the loss of his pride had affected the Rustie; a shock no doubt exacerbated by the XCs’ choice of prison. They were in the Commune Place, where the pride would come to meet, to gather together, to rub bodies and smell scents and bond. Or, in human terms, just to hang. It meant so much more to the First Breed.
    Nor did it help now that Boon Round was almost starved. Humans and First Breed could both drink water, but Rusties didn’t like chocolate bars and neither did Joel any more, after the first fifteen or so. He had had to start starving himself, or risk severely overtaxing the chemical toilet the XCs had thoughtfully provided.
    So . . . He looked at the door again, then at the female in charge. Was that what was going through her mind? We don’t know how to look after you, so show us?
    ‘Only one way to find out,’ he said, and kicked off again.
    Joel made his way through the dim passages of SkySpy with his retinue of XCs. They seemed to be giving him his head, so he would use the opportunity and see how far he was allowed to go.
    Priorities were food and equipment. Anything