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As commander of the victorious tendrilless forces, Jem Lorry had no need to disguise who he

truly was. Not anymore. Now that his meddling father was out of the way, now that Jem had

command of all the invading armies, he returned among the lowly humans like a conquering

hero.

He came alone to the summit meeting; it was his way of showing that he did not consider

President Gray or his pathetic resistance cell to be a threat. And he did not intend any “peaceful

negotiations,” as Altus Lorry and the Tendrilless Authority had suggested.

While his swift expedition was on its way, John Petty had transmitted a subsidiary message.

“I’ll guarantee your safety, Lorry. You and I both want this meeting to go the same way. Once

Gray and the slans are out of the way, we can divide up the spoils.”

The secret police chief was a fool to believe that, but Jem allowed him to be a fool. Petty was

so good at it.

He landed his solo ship in front of Granny’s ranch house, ruining part of her vegetable

garden. Jem wore a full formal uniform of the tendrilless army, a dark blue shirt fastened with

crystalline buttons, trousers with gold piping and crisp creases. Raising his chin, he stepped

away from his ship and looked coolly at those who came to meet him. He did not bother to

offer a gesture of respect to the deposed President. He had spent too many years serving Kier

Gray, offering his counsel and biting back anger when his own plans were ignored. “So, Gray?

I’ve come representing the slans.”

“The
tendrilless
slans,” Gray said.

Jem looked down his pointed nose. “It seems we are the only slans left.”

Petty came out on the porch to stand beside the President. He looked meaningfully at Jem,

who gave a slight nod, as the slan hunter seemed to expect.

When Jem spotted Kathleen Layton, he assessed her with his hungry eyes. At one time he

had desired her greatly, but the shine was gone. The slan girl looked much less attractive than

he remembered—her skin was pale, her cheeks sunken, her eyes red from crying. He

wondered how he could ever have found her to be beautiful. Perhaps he had wanted her

primarily because she was forbidden. It must have been just a passing and meaningless

physical attraction.

When Granny ushered them inside her home, Jem looked around for the others he

expected to be there. He could easily handle John Petty, as well as President Gray himself. But

even his foolish father had recognized that Jommy Cross was one of the greatest threats.

“Where’s Cross?” It was a pity; he had wanted to catch all the rats in one trap.

“Jommy’s dead.” Kathleen used her bitter tone to slash at him, as if she blamed Jem for

whatever trouble the young slan had gotten into. He wouldn’t believe the death of Jommy

Cross, however, until he saw the troublemaker’s body with his own eyes.

Granny had set up her formal dining table, complete with a checked cloth and a vase of

fresh flowers. With a clatter of dishes, she brought out small dessert plates. “My best china, for

the special occasion.” Granny frowned at Lorry as she served apple pie, scooping out flaky

slices onto the dessert plates. “This was Jommy’s favorite.” She hesitated a moment, then

busied herself. “I’ve got a pot of fresh coffee percolating. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.” Before

she left the room, she added in a stern voice, “Mr. Lorry, I don’t care how powerful you think

you are, but you are a guest in Granny’s house, and you will behave with respect. I don’t trust

anyone who invades my planet.”

Lorry could barely hide his amusement. “A conqueror of a world can do whatever he likes,

ma’am.”

“Granny’s got a shotgun in the closet if you get out of hand. Don’t you forget that.” She

walked off into the kitchen.

Petty quickly sat down, as eager for the pie as he was for the anticipated double-cross.

President Gray took a formal chair at the head of the table and gestured for Jem to sit on the

opposite end.

The President still wore the same rumpled suit he’d been wearing during his imprisonment

and escape. For this important conference, his protocol attendees consisted of an old woman

and his daughter. Kathleen picked up a pen and pad of paper to document any treaty or

agreement they negotiated. Jem found it very amusing.

Before Gray could say anything, Jem abruptly began. “We tendrilless have already

conquered Earth. I agreed to come here, Mister Gray—” he intentionally refused to used the

title of President “—in order to accept your surrender. There’s little I can do to save your life

now, but perhaps if you cooperate, I can take Kathleen Layton under my special protection.”

He smiled at her; she glared back.

“The tendrilless have demonstrated superior military strength,” Gray admitted. “You

worked secretly for years, made your plans, and then launched a surprise attack. No doubt if

tendrilless write the history books, you’ll portray it as a heroic effort. But there is no need for

the violence and bloodshed to continue.”

Jem let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe you should review the history books, Gray—the

unwritten history. Refresh your memory about what true slans did to humans during the wars,

and then what they did to the tendrilless.”

“I already explained it to the Tendrilless Authority,” Gray said in a brittle voice. “Even the

tendrilless will soon begin to give birth to true slan babies again. Must you eradicate us all just

for your petty vengeance?”

Thinking he had heard his name, Petty looked up and wiped pie crust crumbs from his

mouth.

Jem steepled his fingers. “My father repeated some of your silly fairy tales, but I don’t

believe any of it. I’m sorry he couldn’t be with us.” He hadn’t touched his pie, thinking it

might be poisoned, but then he realized these people would never try such devious means.

This pathetic attempt at diplomacy was their only chance. He took a bite and had to admit it

was delicious.

“It sounds like you came here to argue rather than negotiate,” Gray said sadly.

“I never came here to negotiate. I just wanted to look you in the face one last time before I

destroyed you and took over the Earth.”

Granny walked in, holding a silver pot. “Coffee, anyone?”

Jem stood, checking the time on his wrist chronometer. “Come with me outside. There’s

something I want you to see.”

Petty jumped to his feet. He thought this was all part of the plan, but the slan hunter would

soon learn differently. They would all learn.

Jem had agreed to come in a solo craft, but he had gathered a full squadron of attack ships

that would even now be streaking in over this valley. He had no interest in compromises. He

didn’t need to make any.

As they all stepped out onto the porch, looking up in the open air, Jem could already hear

the drone of approaching engines and the arrival of heavy military craft.

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Trapped inside the sealed vault in the palace ruins, Jommy leaned back in darkness so thick

that he seemed to breathe pitch black each time he inhaled. He could still hear the muffled

noises from outside along with Joanna’s increasingly urgent questions. “What were you

thinking? How are we going to get out of here?”

“Would you rather have let them tear us to pieces?” he asked.

“We had a few weapons, not to mention superior physical strength. We could have made it

quite a battle. Those scavengers are cowards at heart.”

“We could have killed dozens of them. This way is better. Less bloodshed.”

Their voices bounced back and forth in the blackness. “Do you know how many stone-cold

corpses I bumped into after you knocked me in here?”

“Two.”

“Two
and a half
. I found the top portion of Mr. Legs out there. I felt his shoulders, ran my

hand down his back, and then he just … stopped. Like one of those matinee adventure movie

serials—
to be continued
.”

“At least you’re finding humor in the situation.”

“I’d find more humor if I could have a little light and some clean rags to wipe off my

hands.”

Jommy worked his fingers blindly, fiddling with the small tracker device he still held in his

hands. The indicator lights were like the tiny bright eyes of a green lizard. “Considering how

dark it is, this is as good as a flashlight.”

The first thing he could make out in the faint glow were the pale forms of the dead bodies.

Joanna saw them too. “Oh, yes—much better.” Her voice was sarcastic.

They sat together listening as the noises outside gradually faded, the scavengers giving up.

Jommy had known the gang members would not stay long, realizing they had no way to break

into the shielded laboratory vault. Once he was sure they had gone on to search for other prey,

he used the minimal light of his device and his sharp eyesight to rummage around on the floor.

He pushed one of the metal shelves aside, moved scattered papers, and rolled an empty

chemical bottle away.

“Looking for a deck of playing cards?” Joanna asked. “I’m pretty good at gin rummy.”

As he continued to crawl on his hands and knees, he cut his palm on a shard of glass. He

had to delay his search while he picked the sharp pieces from his bleeding hand and dabbed it

with a rag he found. The bleeding stopped quickly. “Remind me to use your medical pack

when we get out of here. No telling what toxic chemicals the secret police might have stored in

this laboratory.”

Joanna just groaned. “Right.
When
we get out of here.”

Jommy finally found what he was looking for in the corner where the steel wall met the

steel floor. His hands wrapped around a smooth cylinder that fit so familiarly within his palm.

“Ah, here it is.” He felt a rush of pleasure because he had succeeded without relying on his slan

powers.

“Did you find a deck of cards?”

“Better. It’s what we came here for in the first place. Move our packs out of the way and get

behind me. I don’t want you in the line of fire.”

She moved up behind him, leaning close, perhaps too close. Her voice was right in his ear.

“Now I see what you were thinking of all along. Does the weapon ricochet?”

“No.” At least he didn’t think so. He depressed the firing stud.

A misty white light lunged out like a shout of destruction. A wide chunk of the thick vault

simply vanished into vapor, leaving a gaping hole. “There, I made us another door.”

He gathered his pack and walked through the gap into the night, barely needing to duck

his head. Outside, even the stars seemed to be hiding behind a veil of clouds, but after the utter

blackness of the vault, the two of them could see perfectly well. Far off in the wreckage, he

could make out a few fires. The largest bonfire looked to be where Joanna’s ship had crashed.

No doubt the scavengers had stripped it down to a bare hulk and now used it as their camp,

oblivious to the toxic fumes.

“Shall we take my car?” Jommy asked, hefting the disintegrator tube.

He unerringly led her back to the obscure alley and the half-collapsed shed under which he

had camouflaged his vehicle. He and Joanna cleared the debris from the car, and she looked at

its battered appearance. “Looks like you’ve been through some rough driving.”

“I didn’t have time to get a wash.” Using the special thumb lock he had installed, he

opened the access door.

“I’ll be happy enough to get out of Centropolis,” Joanna said. “I had quite a head start on

Jem Lorry. We should be able to get to the ranch before he tries anything.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. And we’re going to have to do some quick explaining about

you—as a tendrilless spy, you won’t exactly be welcome at Granny’s ranch with President Gray

and John Petty.”

When he sat in the driver’s seat to check out the systems, a persistent droning blip caught

his attention. It was part of the instrument panel he rarely used, and now he saw that the car

had picked up an unexpected signal. An emergency signal.

As Joanna loaded their packs into the back, he focused the scanners, scrolling across his

screen and trying to pinpoint the source. Long ago when searching for slan hideouts, he had

installed specially designed systems to detect important slan broadcasts, coded Porgrave