The irony of that smote him. They had named it for some ancient goddess they had once believed in, a creature of great beauty-the goddess of love. The irony was that this world had been an ugly thing more nearly resembling their ideas of Hades, or hell, even then. From what little they’d been able to discover since they’d begun studying it, it had once been as beautiful, or maybe even more beautiful, than the planet Earth, but that had been long, long ago.

    He wondered at the decision to keep the name but supposed no one really cared enough to change it. It would’ve seemed almost a profanity to have called it Sumptra. Even if it had been anything like their home world had been, even if it one day became more like their home world, it would never compare. Nothing would ever come close, because it was the people who’d made Sumptra beautiful, who’d made it home, not the land.

    Emerging from his dark thoughts, Anka saw his adjutant, Minh, striding briskly toward him. His expression was grim and Anka felt his belly tighten reflexively. Some new disaster, he wondered? Water or food shortage? He dismissed that. There was always a water and/or food shortage these days and he’d already adjusted the rationing. Equipment failure? He couldn’t detect anything critical and he certainly would have if a problem had developed with the cooling system or the air or the pressure.

    Minh halted before him and saluted. “They’ve settled into orbit, Sir.”

    Anka felt his belly clench, pushing acid into his throat. He didn’t have to ask who had settled into orbit. They’d been watching the fucking alien vessel ever since it had bypassed Earth and headed straight toward them. “Manned? Or unmanned?” he asked sharply.

    “We’ve counted five life-forms aboard the vessel.”

    Anka’s lips formed a thin line of anger and distaste. “Never underestimate the greed of the species,” he muttered. “It was too much to hope they might not notice before we had the settlement established.” There was no getting around the fact that they had hoped to be firmly in possession before the humans noticed, however. They had been dispatched to the target primarily to oversee the terra-forming process. They hadn’t actually expected to have to defend it.

    They hadn’t wanted to be forced to defend it. That was the main reason they’d only sent one detachment of soldiers and scientists to establish a small observation base camp.

    That and the fact that they had a damned thin militia to protect their interests.

    He frowned. “Just keep monitoring them for now,” he said finally. “Keep me posted on any developments. I’ll be in my quarters.”

    Minh looked uncomfortable. “Should I inform base camp… Sir?”

    Anka glared at him but finally forced the angry tension from his neck and shoulders. Their ‘leaders’, such as they were now, would fall to arguing the best course and would be as useless in arriving at a decision as to how to proceed as they had been about everything else that they’d had to deal with since the disaster on Sumptra. “Absolutely,” he ground out, not that he had any intention of waiting upon their decision in this particular case. He would do what he thought best. There were times when decisiveness and quick action was far more desirable than a lengthy debate and worrying about offending the sensibilities of politicians with a puffed up sense of importance. As far as he was concerned, this was one of them. With the fate of their species hanging in the balance, he wasn’t willing to take any unnecessary risks.

    He was well aware that, in the old world order, his ranking wouldn’t have put him in a position to make such decisions, but that was the old order, the old world-the dead world. He was the highest ranking officer among the survivors and it was both his duty and his right to protect what was left of their people-even if it meant displeasing what passed as their ruling body at the moment.

    It wasn’t an easy decision, for all that. They couldn’t afford to make mistakes-any kind of mistake was too costly.

    When he reached his quarters, he settled on the hard bunk that passed for a bed and stretched out without bothering to remove his boots, staring up at the ceiling and trying to block out his surroundings. It settled over him like a heavy weight, however, like chains. His quarters were no worse, nor any better, than anyone else’s save for the fact that he had privacy they didn’t have. He’d been in the holds of derelict salvagers that looked more welcoming, however.

    In point of fact, much of the materials they’d recycled to build the base had come from an old salvager, so it was small wonder that was the end result-the feel of being trapped in a filthy, airless hold that was worse than the worst prison he’d ever seen on Sumptra.

    Briefly, he allowed himself to wonder if he would’ve been quite as miserable if they’d at least been able to surround themselves with some comforts, but he didn’t dwell on it. What was the point? They were lucky to have what they did. They were grateful for it.

    They’d hated every moment of every day since they’d lost their world and it didn’t look like they would see a time, again, when things would be better-not in their own lifetime.

    He regretted the thought the moment it entered his mind. The one thing he had avoided above all else was thinking about children. He couldn’t bear the thought of fathering more and there would certainly never be any more nieces and nephews.

    And yet what future did they have without children?

    It was amazing that the loss had created such a vacuum in his soul when he had spent so little time with them.

    It hadn’t actually been a matter of choice. He was the eldest son of the house. He was expected to join the military and distinguish himself. It was tradition, not only within his family, but within his tribe. He’d been eager to leave, though. Despite the strong ties he’d felt for his family, he’d had wanderlust. He hadn’t been content to settle in his native village. Possibly, if he had never left to begin with to go off to the university for studies, he would’ve been, but he would never know now. All he did know was that once he’d broken the ties that bound him tightly to Kipera and his family, he had been restless each time he’d returned and ready to go again the moment he was called back to service.

    If he had been there there would be no agonizing over anything now. He would’ve died with them and all his troubles would be over. It almost felt like a just punishment to live. They had suffered. He knew they had, but the transition had been brief, the moments of pain and fear relatively few. For him, it seemed endless and it had only been a year now. His life stretched out before him like an endless torture chamber that he was forced to walk.

    Lifting an arm, he draped it across his eyes and tried to force those thoughts to back of his mind. He had more important issues at the moment than tormenting himself with his memories and his regrets.

    Like the biblical plagues they were so fond of frightening themselves with, the humans were coming and he had no idea how to stop them without further risk to his own people.

Chapter Two

    The cloud cover was still so thick that it was difficult to get a view of Venus’ surface even from orbit. The crew aboard the Mars II lander began to get readings after the first orbit, however, that confirmed much of the data collected by the probe that had been sent before them-at least in so far as the fact that the chemical makeup was rapidly changing. Unless there was some problem with the data they were getting, however, the gasses had dropped even more dramatically in a matter of weeks.