Someone was coming forward. Jack pushed Susan behind a mahogany locker, then crouched down beside her. A figure dressed in SWAT gear appeared silhouetted against the moon. The man must have sensed him, because the commando spun suddenly, holding one of the strange laser weapons. He was pointing it right at them. Jack fired the first spear. Fong. Thump!

The shaft buried itself deep in the man's chest. He groaned, toppled over the rail, and fell loudly into the water.

As soon as the splash sounded, they heard a shout below and feet running.

Jack grabbed Susan's hand. "Come on, we're goin' swimming." They jumped off the bow into the bay, with

Jack clutching two unfired spear guns. Once they hit the cold water, and fought their way back up to the surface they started stroking away from the boat. In soaked clothing, they were making way too much noise. Jack stopped swimming and pulled up the second spear gun. He treaded water, holding the weapon at the ready, kicking his feet hard to stay afloat.

Susan kept going toward a line of sailboats moored halfway across the channel. The moonlight made them easy targets.

A second man ran to the bow of the boat, knelt down, and aimed his weapon. Jack fired.

The spear flew high and wide, hitting the wheelhouse just above the window. It thunked and quivered, embedding itself deep into the wood next to the man's head. He scrambled back off the bow. Sorry about that, Ted.

Jack dove, and made his way underwater, after Susan. With each lunging stroke, his back knifed with pain.

Finally, he caught up to her. She had stopped and was treading water, waiting for him.

"Keep going, around that boat. Get underwater," he gasped, swallowing a mouthful of water.

They both dove just as two laser weapons zapped. A horrible tingling sensation electrified the water all around them. But the laser weapon's particle beam was quickly dissipated by the water.

Underwater, Jack saw the dim outline of the moored sailboat, now only three yards away tied to two cans in the center of the channel. They frog-kicked toward it and somehow reached the far side before they surfaced, totally winded.

"Let's go. Keep the boat between us and them." he instructed. "We gotta get to that beach." Jack pointed to an expensive residential island that was another fifty yards beyond. As they reached the shore, they heard the CDF troops swimming after them.

"Let's get out of here!" Jack grabbed Susan's arm and they sprinted up the small beach between two bay-front houses, then onto the residential street beyond, where a few cars were parked. Jack ran to a classic Jag XKG convertible.

He broke out the window with a Rockette-worthy kick. Then he reached through, unlocked the door, got in, and found the ignition wires. He pulled them out, twisted them, and almost immediately the Jag purred to life.

Susan ran to the passenger side and jumped in as Jack put the Jag in gear, powering away from the curb. He roared down the narrow street, then he turned right onto the Coast Highway.

Pan is outside the pool house. He sees the Geegas. They are in the lighted room behind the sheet of hard air.

He leaps, hitting it, putting his head through, but feeling no pain as pieces crash onto the floor around him. Green, savage memories overtake him-shadow thoughts he can never identify. Violence! Rage! Killing for his tribe! Now Pan is inside the room and the Geegas are standing still, frightened, so easy to slaughter.

The male Geega, standing next to the light pad on the wall, does something Pan doesn't understand… he turns and pushes a button. "Run!" he yells at the female Geega, who lunges toward the door. But Pan blocks her path. He knows to kill the male Geega first. This is the rule.

Pan charges.

The male Geega swings a heavy canvas bag, hitting him in the chest, catching Pan by surprise. Pan falls backward, squealing.

"The pool!" the female yells. Pan knows he can't rip them apart. He must use the knife. He knows that disobeying a direct order from the Alpha is worse than death.

Pan brings his gloved hand up, flashing the knife. Pan spends hours practicing with the killing knives. He prefers to use his hands-the glorious shredding ripping, but the Alpha Geega has said no. So, Pan now approaches slowly, just as he is taught. Creeping toward the male Geega on three extenders, his gloved hand in front of him, the five-inch blade flashing. He can hear his breath coming in rasps, snarling in the back of his throat.

Pan is happy.

Herman saw the beast seconds after it crashed through the window. It was far more terrifying than he had imagined… an almost-human face twisted in animal rage, a body covered completely with brown fur. He hit the emergency panic button, sending a silent alarm directly to the Malibu Sheriff's substation a few miles away, then turned to face the beast. The animal reeked like an unwashed hound. It wore a white headband, soaked red with blood from glass cuts.

"My God," Herman said, as the chimera brandished a vicious-looking, five-inch blade in its gloved hand. The beast was wearing a vest that contained some kind of complicated computer. The stench coming off the animal was growing worse by the second, clogging Herman's nostrils.

Then the chimera charged.

Herman swung his heavy canvas bag full of law books, catching the beast in the chest and rolling it backward onto the floor. He grabbed Sandy 's hand and started for the back door.

"No!" Sandy yelled. "The pool!" She ran right through the broken sliding glass door, pulling Herman after her, as the chimera rolled to its feet and with amazing speed leaped forward, running on all fours, quickly closing the distance between them.

Herman could hear the strange sound of the leather gloves scraping against the concrete pavement behind them. Sandy yanked him hard and suddenly they were both in the pool. As they landed in the deep end the chimera skidded to a halt inches from the water. It screamed, then ran around the edge, jumping and grunting, looking for a way to get at them.

"My God, what is it?" Herman said. "I think it's one of your new clients," Sandy gasped as they treaded water. "A chimera. They can't swim."

"How do you know?" Herman yelled as he watched the frightening animal growling at them, its eyes filled with murderous rage.

"It looks mostly chimp. They're too heavy to swim. Too much muscle. No body fat. Chimps are afraid of the water." Sandy treaded water and stared at the angry beast. She obviously knew what she was talking about, because it was now clear that this thing had no intention of going in after them.

As the hybrid ran back and forth around the pool, it finally noticed the steps in the shallow end. Screeching angrily, it waded in up to its waist-but now the electronic vest was getting wet. Herman could hear circuits popping. After a moment of indecision, the chimera waded out of the pool, then scurried around to the diving board. It ran out to the end and clung to the edge, reaching toward Herman and making a loud, plaintive scream.

"It wants us to help him." Herman started to swim toward it.

"Get back… are you nuts?" Sandy yelled, then grabbed him, pulling him further out of range.

The chimera jumped up and down on the diving board, regret on its hairless face.

Suddenly they heard police sirens winding down outside the house. A pair of car doors slammed and a moment later the first of the Malibu sheriffs jumped up to look over the wall into the pool area.

"Help!" Sandy called. "We need help!"

The deputy climbed to the top of the wall, then jumped down, landing twenty feet from the enraged chimera.