Alyx’s voice came from behind her. “Are we sure we want to do this, George?”

“Yes! My God, child, are you serious?”

A second angel swept in, another male, and the landing brought him half-running toward the lander. But he stopped and held out his hands, the way one might to indicate he is not carrying a weapon. Alyx had moved in directly behind Hutch. “He’s gorgeous,” she said. “They both are.”

She wondered if Alyx had seen the incisors.

Despite the wings they were clearly mammalian. They wore vests that revealed most of the upper body, and leggings that fell to the shins. But their lower limbs ended in claws, not feet.

Not quite so angelic, after all.

Hutch looked past George, who was shifting his weight, getting ready to leave the airlock. The ground was covered with soft, green grass. “I just noticed something,” she said.

“What?” asked Pete, as he joined her. He was holding a necklace in his left hand. A gift.

“There are no birds here anywhere.”

George climbed ponderously down. Pete and Hutch followed, moving out on either side. The gravity was probably only about 80 percent of a standard gee, but after the light one-quarter they’d been living in, it was a burden. George smiled and waved. The female swept past, arced back, and floated down, wings spread wide.

“I don’t think,” said George, “I understand what you’re trying to say.”

“Where are the birds?”

He sighed. “How would I know?” And then, to the angels: “Hello. Greetings from Earth.”

We come in peace.

Michael took a tentative step forward. He was only a few centimeters taller than she, a creature of impossible grace. The wind whispered across his wings. He was studying her again, his eyes connecting with hers, then traveling down her body and coming to rest at last on the cutter.

His lips parted, and she saw the beginning of an accusation in his glance. But then it dissolved into a smile. If the rest of them were like this bunch, she suspected, and if they were really friendly, interspecies relationships couldn’t be far off.

“They don’t seem at all scared of us,” said Tor, over the common channel.

Bill told them to be careful.

George stepped forward, past Hutch, and offered his hand. Michael raised a wing partway and let it settle again.

The second angel had dark blue feathers and dark eyes that one could almost have described as melancholy. His wings displayed a complex red-and-white pattern. Gabriel, possibly.

Pete held out the bracelet. It was cheap, silver-plated. But if you didn’t know better…

“Pete,” Hutch told him, “you’re getting too far from the lander.”

Herman stood in the open hatch, hesitating. Then he stepped down.

Still no birds. Maybe this world didn’t have birds. Was that possible? They’d been everywhere else, in one form or another, wherever large land animals had evolved.

Two more of the creatures landed, one male, one female.

The bracelet sparkled in the sunlight.

Gabriel’s eyes traveled from Pete to the bracelet to Hutch. Back to the bracelet. Hutch thought she detected contempt.

The angels spread out a few paces to either side.

Alyx was preparing to jump down from the lock. Tor, with his easel, was behind her.

“Stay put,” said Hutch, privately.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Gabriel took the bracelet. He turned and held it out for one of the females. She came forward, accepted it, frowned at it. What was it for?

Despite everything, despite the nobility of their appearance, despite the complete lack of any threatening gesture, despite the fact that she had begun entertaining lascivious ideas about both Michael and Gabriel, Hutch knew, absolutely knew, something was wrong.

Two more appeared over the river, circled the lander, and started down. They were starting to draw a substantial crowd.

“Give me wings like that,” Alyx said, “and no male would be safe on the streets at night.”

Touchingly modest, thought Hutch. The woman hardly needed wings.

Michael raised his right hand, palm out, and spoke. A few words, delivered in a rich baritone. She could almost understand the words. Thank you. Or Hello. Welcome to Paradise.

One of the females was edging around, trying to get an angle on the open hatch.

“Hutch,” demanded Alyx, “what’s going on?”

“I don’t know yet. Just stay in the lander.”

The female advanced a few paces, covering about half the ground between the lander and Pete, who had taken Gabriel’s hand and was shaking it. Old friends, well met. Pete was considerably bigger than the angel.

Herman must have sensed it too. He moved up and stood beside Hutch.

All of the angels seemed unobtrusively to be closing in. Hutch noticed that Pete was cut off from the airlock. She retreated a step to get her back to the lander. “Heads up, Pete,” she said.

He actually turned and smiled pleasantly at her. Don’t worry. Everything’s under control. These are friends. It was as far as he got.

Gabriel’s smile widened and Hutch saw the incisors again. They sank into Pete’s throat while one of the females jumped him from behind. Michael went for George, who, in the time-honored tradition of amateur adventurers, froze. Herman trundled past her and threw himself into the struggle.

The female that had gotten between Hutch and the airlock showed her a set of claws, smiled, and flew at her. Hutch went down as another one glided past, trying to get at the airlock.

It all happened with blazing speed. The angels had acted simultaneously, as if some signal had passed among them, much the way birds seem to leave a stand of trees at the same moment. Hutch’s cutter blinked on and she drove the beam into her attacker’s midsection as the creature tried to claw her. It screamed and went down in a fury of feathers and shrieks.

Hutch rolled it away, got a quick glimpse of more fangs, jabbed upward and missed. It was Gabriel, and it gasped and swiped at her with long talons. She got lucky: they hit the hard shell that covered her face, and she swung the laser with everything she had. It took off parts of wing and shoulder and bit into its neck. A dark brown liquid spurted out. It screamed and leaped into the air.

Herman yanked Michael off George. It turned on him and raked him. Hutch rammed the cutter into one of its legs as Herman collapsed.

Because she possessed the sole weapon, Hutch quickly became the focal point of the battle. She swung the laser blade with deft precision, discovering to her surprise that she enjoyed slashing the sons of bitches. Every time the weapon struck home, biting through flesh and blood, she knew an exhilaration quite apart from any emotion she’d felt before. The air was filled with shrieks and screams.

George staggered to his feet, covered with blood. Herman was bleeding from a dozen wounds. George saw him and bellowed with rage. The angels were all smaller than he, and lighter, and they went after him as he tried to go to Herman’s aid. He landed a series of furious punches on one. It bit down on his arm and hung on while he hammered it into unconsciousness, then shook it off, let it fall, and turned to go after the others.

But he was dazed. Hutch got to his side and drew him back. “Don’t be an idiot. Get to the airlock.”

She gave him a push and turned to help Herman. He lay still while the creatures clawed him, trying unsuccessfully to get through the Flickinger field. Hutch took a wing off one and the others came for her. Nick’s voice howled in her ear: “They’re killing Pete. My God, Hutch, they’re savages.”

Yes, they are. Pete was trying to fight off two attackers. He screamed as they took turns tearing at him. Inside his e-suit, blood oozed out of a dozen wounds. Briefly, his eyes met hers. It was a ghastly moment, the one she would carry out of the battle and never forget. Then, before she could get to him, he was down.