"Three to six hours," Wendy said. "That's the estimated time for a Posleen force to eliminate ninety percent of resistance and presence. Of course, nobodysays that, but I've seen the estimates. That presumes this wasn't just a Lamprey, but if it was there wouldn't be Posleen down here already."

She keyed the information terminal and dove into the database. She had to enter her password twice, but she finally found the appropriate file.

"Two hours after reduction of primary defense—that's the security forces in A section—ninety percent of the population will have been removed," Wendy said, referring to the document. "Within six hours after reduction, ninety-eight percent will have been removed."

"I guess we're in the two percent then," Elgars said.

"I think it's a bit pessimistic," Wendy answered. "But there's one way to find out." She keyed up a schematic of the Sub-Urb then opened up the emergency services database. "I was wondering, earlier, how we could figure out where the Posleen are. I finally realized you could track them by emergency calls." She pulled up the call records and patched them into the schematic. "We've been on the run for four and a half hours. Penetration was about five hours ago, I'd guess." She scrolled the schematic back five hours. "See the red dots? Those are calls, both initiating calls and support calls. There's a bunch of them around the entrances and then they spread out." She scrolled the schematic forward in time and Elgars could see what she meant; the red dots spread out with a solid "outline" for a while then started to dissipate.

"You can see that there's starting to be fewer people to put in calls," Wendy said emotionlessly. "This is by two hours after the entry; we were on our way down at that point. Cafeteria 3-B is already well inside the Posleen perimeter; Dave was gone by then or shortly afterwards." She scrolled it outward further and now there was a light scattering of red dots. "At this point, almost all the population areas have been overrun and the Posleen are scattering into the industrial sectors. And trying to track them is pointless because nobody is calling for help anymore."

"So in four more hours?" Elgars asked, tapping at her console.

"There will probably be three or four thousand people alive, trapped and hiding in various compartments," Wendy said coldly. "Out of two million to start."

"And they're not getting out, right?" the officer said, looking at her sharply. "They're for all practical purposes dead."

"As a doornail." Wendy nodded. "Ground Forces have not entered and have not responded and the Posleen are going to totally occupy this facility. There might be a Newt or two left, but for all practical purposes they're all dead men walking."

Elgars nodded and hit enter. "Time to leave."

"Six hours?" Wendy asked.

"Yep," the captain said, looking around. "Assuming it works. But we shouldn't dawdle."

"Are you guys done?" Shari asked, coming down the exit walkway. She had donned a mask as well and the voice was muffled and irritated.

"We could do a backup," Wendy said. "I'm not sure that will get it going. What did you use for a fuel-oil substitute?"

"Corn oil," Elgars answered distantly. "What I need is some bloody plastique," she added, rubbing her chin. "That would fix the bahstahds."

"We need to leave," Shari asked. "What are you doing?"

"Blowing up the Urb," Wendy answered.

Near Cowee, NC, United States, Sol III

2337 EDT Saturday September 26, 2009 ad

"The drive out of here is going to be interesting," Major Mitchell said.

"No shit, sir," Pruitt said, scanning the independent sight around. "How do we get out of here?"

The SheVa had headed down the Little Tennessee River to where it was joined by Cader Creek then headed up that valley to rendezvous with its reload group on Cader Fork. The reload teams were well into the process and the spare drivers that accompanied them were working with Warrant Indy to repair some of the damage done to the gun.

"You mean other than going back to the Tennessee?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes, sir," the gunner said patiently as the gun shuddered to another round being loaded. The word had already reached them that the Posleen had bounded forward to Oak Grove; indeed, the landers would have been cold meat as they passed the valley opening. But what it meant was that there were now Posleen on both sides of the valley entrance. For that matter, there could be Posleen pushing up the valley by now. However, Major Mitchell had detailed the Meemies to screen in that direction so they shouldn't be caught reloading. "I think by the time we get back there there we'll be way too popular if you know what I mean."

"Major!" Indy called. "We've got company."

"Shit!" Pruitt said, sweeping the sight around. "Not when we're loading! Where? Bearing!"

"No, I mean we have company," Indy said with a nervous laugh, climbing up out of the hatch. "Get your finger off the trigger before you give our position away."

Following her was a short, muscular female captain. Mitchell smiled when he saw the ADA insignia on her uniform.

"Whisky Three-Five I presume," he said, offering his hand.

"Captain Vickie Chan, sir," the captain said, taking it.

"Thanks for your assistance, Captain," the SheVa commander said. "I thought we were goners."

"Captain, I want one of y'all's guns," Pruitt said, spinning his seat around to face her. "They are bad. Not as bad as Bun-Bun, mind you. But pretty damned tough."

"You can have it," the captain laughed. "You have no idea what it's like to fire."

"Bad?" Mitchell asked.

"That's an understatement, sir," the captain replied with a smile. "Let's just say we tend to wait until we have to fire. So what is the plan?"

"Unfortunately, I think it's to go up there," Mitchell said, panning an external monitor up into the mountains. "I've been looking at a map. And it's even worse than it looks on the screen."

"That's nearly vertical, sir," the Meemie commander said hesitantly. "I think that Meemies can handle the slope, but it's also covered in trees, which we can't handle. And isn't a SheVa a little top-heavy for those slopes? Not to mention . . . wide?"

"I think we're about to find out," Mitchell answered. "I think I've plotted out a course that we can take; up through Chestnut and Betty Gap and down Betty Creek. It's not going to be fun or easy—the slope in particular around the back side of Panther Knob is going to be a special nightmare—but it's all wide enough for us to fit, according to the map, and with nothing worse than a thirty-degree slope. With all our rounds loaded, we actually have a fairly low center of gravity, despite the look. I think we can make it."

"And if you can't?" Captain Chan asked.

"Well, if we go back, we're going to run into the Posleen," Mitchell answered. "At least, that's a very good chance. And if we go . . . up, there are a series of possible bad outcomes. For one thing, we don't know that the Posleen aren't on Betty Creek in force. But it's also the only path that doesn't involve getting immediately overrun. If the Posleen are there, but not in force, well . . ." He grinned ferally.

"What about your resupply units?" she asked, thumbing over her shoulder. "And us, for that matter."

"I've updated a map," he said, handing her a flash card. "Do you have a . . ."

"I've got a map module," she said with a smile, pulling out her map reader and popping the chip in. "We've got all the modern refinements."

"You'll go up by Mica City and over Brushy Fork Gap; there are some roads. On the map the path is usable by my trucks, your tanks . . ."