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  "You were expecting maybe illiterate barbarians?" Chanc rejoined, "Where do you get your books?"

  "We have established trading relations with Reptilian," Chanc answered.

  "The booty that scaly bastard has amassed is incredible. He'll trade anything for

  some prime meat"

  "Reptilian? Who's Rep—" Havoc started to inquire, but paused when an

  uncanny wail floated down from above.

  The peculiar moaning ululation persisted for over a minute, rising and

  falling in intensity.

  "What was that?" Havoc inquired, the hairs on the nape of his neck

  prickling.

  "Father," Chanc said.

  "The Spider?"

  "Yes. He can not converse like you and I do. He can not speak. The

  Spider can communicate telepathically and with sounds, sounds unlike anything

  you or I could make," Chanc stated.

  "I believe it," Havoc remarked. "Which reminds me. What's with the

  clicking you guys do?"

  "We use the clicking of our talons to communicate when we're out in the

  field," Chanc said. "Our system is similar to your Morse Code."

  Havoc nodded. So he'd been right!

  They were approaching the top of the Tower, approximately 2 5 feet

  overhead, A landing became visible 15 feet up.

  "We're almost there," Chanc announced. "I thank you for the pleasure of

  your company. I seldom am permitted to enjoy intelligent conversation, even

  with a lowly human."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we are not allowed to talk to the Spider's women," Chanc

  responded. "And my brothers, sad to say, have not refined the art of polite

  discourse."

  Havoc couldn't help but grin. Chanc impressed him as the type of person,

  or thing, who unceasingly flapped his gums for the sake of hearing himself

  speak.

  They climbed the remainder of the steps to the landing in silence.

  Fabricated of the same dark wood as the walls, the landing was ten feet square

  and bordered by a gray metal railing. A large door was located across from the

  stairwell.

  Chanc moved to the middle of the landing and turned. "I will be going in

  with you to act as interpreter. The rest will remain here."

  Havoc glanced to his rear. Six of the Hatchlings had accompanied them up

  the stairwell. Sadist was staring at the door in blatant fear, his lips quivering, his

  eyes wide.

  Chanc walked to the door and gripped the metal latch.

  "I imagine it's too late," Havoc stated.

  Chanc looked at the soldier, puzzled. "Too late?"

  "To ask you to surrender."

  Chanc tittered, shaking his head. "Definitely a pity."

  "Please!" Sadist interjected. "I don't want to go in there!" "You must," Chanc said.

  "No! I've been loyal all these years! This isn't fair!" Sadist shouted. "The Spider wants to see you," Chanc stated. "Now calm down and come

  on." Sadist retreated a step. "No! Please, Chanc!"

  Watching the petrified guard, Havoc was struck by a thought. "Chanc,

  there's something I don't understand?"

  Chanc released the latch. "What?"

  "Why do you go to all the trouble of stealing your women from outside

  the Kingdom when you could raise them here? Sadist is a son of the Spider,

  right? All the human guards are. And if some of the Spider's offspring are fully

  human, like their mothers, why not let the girl babies grow into women?" Havoc

  asked.

  "Because there have not been any female babies who survived," Chanc

  said sadly.

  "None?"

  Chanc shook his head. "Not a one. All of the female babies, whether

  human or Hatchling, die shortly after birth. We have tried everything to keep

  them alive, but nothing has worked." He paused. "Even many of the male babies

  perish. The inter-breeding of a mutant and a human has unforeseen

  complications."

  Havoc indicated Sadist with a jerk of his left thumb. "But he told me all

  the girl babies and most of the boys are eaten."

  "They are," Chanc confirmed.

  "But…" Havoc began.

  "They are consumed after they die," Chanc detailed. "After all, as much as

  we want them to live, we're not about to let good food go to waste." Havoc felt queasy in his stomach.

  "The genetic differential might account for the high infant-mortality rate,"

  Chanc elaborated. "We count ourselves fortunate that some of the males do

  survive. Many mutants, we have learned, are incapable of breeding with humans.

  Their reproductive systems are incompatible."

  "So I've heard," Havoc acknowledged.

  "Now we really must go inside," Chanc stated, staring at Sadist. "If you

  will not enter of your own volition, I will have you carried."

  Sadist extended his hands in a pleading gesture. "But I didn't do

  anything!"

  "Father would like to have a word with you," Chanc said patiently. He took hold of the latch and opened the door. "Inside." With a wave of one of his left arms, he indicated they should proceed. Havoc edged to the doorway. He was strongly tempted to bolt, but outnumbered as he was—and unarmed to boot—an

  escape attempt would be an exercise in stupidity.

  Whining, Sadist shuffled toward the door.

  Havoc gingerly stepped into the Spider's quarters. He anticipated

  outlandish architecture resembling the floors below; what he found exceeded his

  wildest imaginings.

  The gloomy chamber was gigantic, 40 feet in diameter, and reached all

  the way to the domed roof. A pungent odor hung in the air. Another landing, a

  carbon copy of the one outside, was attached by beams to the north wall. Unlike

  the first landing, there was no railing. And occupying the rest of the Spider's

  quarters was a fitting symbol of the mutant's name and power, the only

  habitation perfectly suited for a being with arachnoid capabilities: a titanic web. Havoc could scarcely believe his own eyes. His mind was boggled,

  overwhelmed by the seeming unreality of the sight before him.

  The web was a dusky, dirty white circular pattern of enormous strands

  stretching from wall to wall. The center sagged, lending a cuplike aspect to its

  appearance. Each strand was as thick as a man's body, except for those nearest

  the walls. They were thicker. If size was any connotation, then the web was

  large enough for an elephant.

  "Isn't it awe inspiring?" Chanc remarked to Havoc's left.

  "I don't see the Spider," Havoc mentioned.

  Chanc glanced up at the dome. "You will," he stated.

  Havoc followed the direction of Chanc's gaze, but initially he didn't see

  anything out of the ordinary. The area under the dome was shrouded in shadow. And then the shadow moved!.

  Havoc involuntarily gasped in astonishment as a tremendous inky form

  descended from the ceiling, slowly lowering toward the middle of the net. Vague

  at first, the shape solidified, acquiring distinct contours.

  The creature's body was massive and segmented, consisting of two oval

  sections covered with fine black hair. Eight appendages, four on each side,

  protruded from the mutant's segments, and in contrast to the body they were

  not coated with hair. The limbs were a yellow tinge, and the skin appeared to

  have an elastic quality which was apparent as the appendages moved up and

  down. They were always in motion, always rising and falling, e
ven when the

  creature was still.

  "Sergeant Havoc," Chanc said. "I'd like you to meet my father. The

  Spider." . Havoc heard Sadist whimpering.

  The Spider came to a stop abreast of the landing, dangling from the

  ceiling not ten feet from the visitors. Havoc was riveted in place, staring in

  amazement at the Spider's visage. The skin was the same color and texture as

  the legs. Eight black, alien orbs returned his stare, capped by an expansive

  forehead. There was no nose, and the mouth was a vertical slit with two large

  fangs at the bottom and smaller fangs lining the gums.

  "The Spider greets you," Chanc said. "What?" Havoc mumbled "The Spider greets you," Chanc repeated. "He welcomes you to his

  humble abode."

  "He's communicating with you?" Havoc asked.

  "Of course," Chanc stated. "Telepathy, remember?"

  Havoc spotted a strand of web connecting the Spider's posterior to the

  ceiling

  "Well?" Chanc said impatiently.

  "Well what?" Havoc responded.

  "You are being abysmally rude," Chanc noted. "The least' you could do is

  say hi."

  "Oh." Havoc shook his head, striving to organize his thinking. "Tell him hi

  for me."

  "He heard you," Chanc said. "He may not be able to speak, but he can

  understand us."

  "He isn't what I expected," Havoc remarked.

  "What did you expect?" Chanc queried.

  "I don't know," Havoc said, "I thought he would be smaller. Probably

  because he… mates… with human women."

  Chanc seemed to be listening to an inner voice, his brow furrowed, all

  attention. "Father says his reproductive organ is no bigger than yours." "What? As huge as he is?" Havoc commented.

  "Father says many animals and insects have disproportionately undersized

  organs." Chanc chuckled.

  "Look at the whale. If a male whale had a penis commensurate with its

  bulk, it would sink to the bottom every time it got a hard-on. As for humans,

  their egos tend to greatly exaggerate their own sexual dimensions." "I still don't understand why he picks on human women," Havoc said. "What other reproductive source is there?" Chanc rejoined. "Like many

  mutants produced by the excessive radiation bombarding the atmosphere, he is

  one of a kind. He has no natural mate. Father considers the idea of mating with

  his inferiors, with animals and lesser mutants, revolting."

  "But he mates with inferior humans," Havoc interrupted.

  "Father says humans are inferior physically and mentally to mutants, but

  humans do have one advantage. Human females, that is. They are remarkably

  fertile, and their wombs are receptive to interspecies impregnation," Chanc

  explained.

  "Wait a minute!" Havoc declared, "I just thought of something." He looked

  at Chanc. "If the Spider is the only one who can touch the women you capture,

  what do you do?"

  "Me?"

  "You and the rest of the Hatchlings," Havoc elucidated.

  "Hatchlings do not possess reproductive potential," Chanc stated. "You can't whoopee?"

  "We can't reproduce," Chanc said.

  "What about the human guards?" Havoc queried.

  "Periodically one of the women is sacrificed," Chanc detailed. "Before we

  feast on her, the men are permitted to indulge themselves."

  Havoc glanced at Sadist. "You bastard!"

  "Father says to thank you for reminding him," Chanc said. "Reminding him about what?" Havoc asked.

  "Three guesses," Chanc remarked.

  Havoc saw the Spider swivel, its malevolent face turning to his right,

  toward Sadist. Sadist uttered a wheezing sound.

  Chanc took a step forward, his eyes on Sadist. "Father says he is

  displeased by your performance." Sadist dropped to his knees, pressing his

  palms together in an attitude of supplication. "I didn't do anything!" he shouted.

  "Father says you led Havoc here," Chanc interpreted.

  "I didn't have any choice! He would have killed me!" Sadist's asserted. "Father requires loyalty above all else," Chanc relayed. "Father believes

  you lack that essential quality."

  "Please! Give me another chance! I promise I won't fail you again!" Sadist

  wailed.

  "Father says you are right. You won't fail him again," Chanc said. Havoc

  tensed, expecting the Spider to make a move, to do something decidedly lethal

  to Sadist. But when the move came, it astounded turn.

  A streak of white suddenly erupted from the Spider's hideous head,

  disgorged from itsdistended maw at a lightning velocity, the aim unerring. A

  thin, glistening strand, resembling the webbing but exceedingly slender, shot

  across the intervening ten feet and struck Sadat in the chest.

  "No?" Sadist screamed, grabbing the strand and endeavoring to tear it

  from his body. But the strand, thin as it was, held fast.

  "Observe this closely," Chanc casually commented to Havoc. For his part, Havoc was fascinated by the tableau. He felt no compulsion

  to try and help Sadist; the son of a bitch deserved everything he got! "Please! No!' Sadist protested. He went to remove his hands from the

  strand, but couldn't. "They're stuck!" he blurted in horror. "I can't get my hands

  loose!" Spider uttered a protracted chittering noise.

  "Father says you must excuse his uncouth manners," Chanc said to

  Havoc, grinning. "He is famished. He will not be able to share his repast with

  you."

  "Fine by me," Havoc muttered in response.

  Sadist screeched as he was abruptly hauled from the landing. He was

  pulled over the edge and plummeted toward the net below, but was brought up

  short by the strand adhering to his chest. The momentum of his plunge caused

  him to swing from side to side, a human pendulum, a tasty morsel for a hungry

  monster, like a fish on the end of a fisherman's line.

  "Watch what happens next," Chanc stated excitedly.

  The thin strand began to retract into the Spider's mouth, drawing its prey

  ever closer to its two-foot-long central fangs.

  " Nooooooo!"Sadist shrieked.

  The retraction seemed to take forever, but in reality was a mere three

  minutes, as the strand ever so slowly hoisted Sadist higher and higher.

  Alternately whining, yelling, and blubbering incoherently, Sadist gradually drew

  within range of the Spider's serrated fangs.

  Havoc, mesmerized, saw what was coming.

  Sadist became strangely quiet when he was within a yard of the Spider's

  head. He gawked up at the terrible features, petrified to his core. Chanc laughed expectantly.

  A few seconds more and Sadist was within range.

  The Spider's two longest fangs clamped onto Sadist's head, one on each

  side, the sawlike edges ripping into the man's cranium.

  Havoc heard a sharp crunch.

  Sadist started convulsing as his body was drawn into the Spider's mouth.

  Additional smaller fangs were revealed as the maw was stretched to the

  maximum.

  Havoc saw Sadist's head ease into the Spider's maw, and then those

  mighty jaws closed, the Spider's razor teeth neatly severing Sadist's head from

  his body. Crimson spurted over the Spider's chin and mandibles,

  "I wish I could do that," Chanc remarked wistfully.

  Havoc was appalled. What a way to go! How many people, innocent

  people, not scum like Sadist, had fallen victim to t
he Spider over the decades?

  Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands?

  The Spider's mouth was working as he consumed his meal. "Father would like to continue our conversation while he snacks," Chanc

  said. "If that's all right with you."

  Havoc didn't respond.

  "Father would like to know about you," Chanc translated. "How many

  more came with you? What unit are you with? Where are you headquartered?

  And how did you learn about the Kingdom?" Havoc stared into the Spider's

  baleful orbs. He licked his lips and mustered all of his courage. "Go to hell!" Chanc hissed. "What kind of attitude is that? Hasn't Father treated you

  with respect and dignity?" Havoc glanced at the Hatchling. "Why don't you go

  take a swan dive off the cliffs?" Chanc looked at his inhuman progenitor, then at

  the noncom. "You refuse to cooperate?"

  "You're not so dumb after all,' Havoc rejoined.

  "How can you be so obstinate after what you've just witnessed?" Chanc

  queried angrily.

  " Becauseof what I've just seen, you can all get stuffed! You get nothing

  out of me!" Havoc declared.

  "And there's nothing I can say to change your mind?" Chanc asked. "Don't waste my time," Havoc replied arrogantly.

  Chanc sighed. "Very well. You have made your choice. But Father will

  force you to talk, sooner or later

  "

  "Bet me!" Havoc retorted.

  "Don't say I didn't warn you," Chanc commented, moving toward the

  doorway. Havoc gazed at the Spider. The mutant was engrossed in its meal,

  blood and flesh dribbling from the corners or its mouth as it chewed. For a few

  seconds Chanc was not in his field of vision. The Hatchling was behind him,

  heading for the door.

  Or so he thought.

  Havoc had a fleeting intimation of impending disaster when he detected

  the rapid pad of rushing feet, and then something slammed into his back,

  knocking him forward, toward the edge of the landing. He tried to throw his

  body back from the brink, but his combat boots slid over the rim, and with a

  sickening sensation in his stomach he hurtled toward the net below.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  He was almost free!

  Kraft grinned in delight as he felt the material binding his wrists about to

  give way. He had worked for hours, his arms developing a slippery layer of sweat to facilitate his effort.

  If only the damn Hatchling would keep on sleeping!

  Kraft had taken stock while the hybrid dozed. His M-16 and the Colts were gone, but he didn't know about his boot knife and his switchblade. He couldn't feel the boot knife rubbing against his skin, so he doubted the weapon was still there. The Hatchling must have searched him while he was unconscious. But, the hybrid might have missed his switchblade. When he quietly jiggled his legs, making as much noise as he dared, he felt a hard object gouging his right thigh. And the only hard object in his right front pocket had been his switchblade.