Fear that man

to do under the circumstances of the moment. “Scare you?” Delicately, delicately lead on the brute…
        “Nah! But, Mother, how big!”
        The black hull loomed so high overhead that it was difficult to tell just where it ended and the night began. Trees had been snapped off around its base and were jutting outward like splintered toothpicks. The earth had settled under the tremendous weight, and the ship now rested in a pit of its own making.
        “Put these in your ears,” Sam said, handing two plugs to the giant.
        “What for?”
        “There’s an hypnotic command constantly played in the ship. You go in there without earplugs and you’ll be blubbering like a helpless idiot in seconds.”
        “But how do we talk?”
        “There’s a micro-miniature receiver, transmitter, and amplifier in the tip. It touches the bones of your ear, picks up the vibrations of your own voice from your jaw, and transmits them to me. Mine does the same. Just whisper, and I’ll hear you. Of course, we won’t hear anything else.”
        Hesitantly, the big man followed suit, inserting the tight-fitting plugs.
        “Now hold your head here,” Sam said, producing a small tin.
        “Why? What’s that?”
        “Sound-proofing jelly.”
        “I’ll put it in myself.”
        “Very well.” Sam dipped his fingers into the thick goo, smeared it over the back of the plug and the rest of his ears, handed the tin to Buronto.
        “Remember,” Sam said, “when we get inside, no useless-”
        “Killing,” Buronto finished. “Don’t worry. Just lead me in.”
        “Just to the Ship’s Core,” Sam said. “I’ll take you there, but you won’t catch me fighting this thing.”
        “I’m not scared!” Buronto snapped, a child being tested.
        “Let’s go.”
        They moved from the oaks, crouched and running, darting from one patch of growth to another. They reached the ship without incident. Fifteen minutes later, the laser torch had burned through all the layers of the hull… And the snout of a laser rifle punched through the hole, aimed directly between Sam’s eyes.
        There was a blue blast. Sam was falling before he realized he had not been shot. Buronto had burned the alien down. The slug leaned out, hanging for a moment on the edge of the ragged hole, its flesh tearing on the shards of metal poking like fingers from the rim of the crudely cut aperture. The rifle dangled in its pseudopod, trembled almost as a living thing itself, then fell out onto the grass. The slug gurgled, swayed, tore itself further on the metal, then toppled out also, sprawling full-length at their feet. There was a yard-long gash on its side. Things spewed from it, wet and orange.
        “Okay that I killed it?” Buronto asked snidely.
        Sam coughed, got up. “Yes. Fine. Very good.”
        Buronto laughed, half at Sam’s embarrassment, half at the pile of gore he had made.
        “It seems to have been a solitary guard,” Sam said, peering into the dimly lighted corridor. “But let’s hurry just the same.” He pulled himself over the sill, disappeared into the ship.
        Buronto climbed in after.
        Blessed be the time. The time is near.
        “This way,” Sam hissed. “Gun at ready, but-”
        “No killing unless necessary.”
        “Exactly. You learn well. Slow, but well.”
        Halfway down this corridor, Sam planted a small transmitter behind the edge of a jutting beam. He looked at his watch-screen. There was a yellow blip near the edge. That was the transmitter. The screen coordinates had been set so that, once they reached a position where their own blips (green) were in the center of the screen, they would be in the middle of the ship, somewhere near Ship’s Core. They moved on.
        Though powerful and ruthless, the aliens were unimaginative. The ship was void, in the corridors at least, of any decoration or special styling. Solid gray walls, floors, and ceilings. One step brought them past the same sights as the last hundred had. The last thousand.
        There was one danger with the earplugs. They could not hear the Racesong, but neither could they hear the slugs coming. Two aliens slithered into view at the end of the corridor, cloaks of shimmering purple material falling behind them and trailing a few feet on the floor. “Back!” Sam whispered.
        They stood against the wall, pressing as tight as they could to its