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By Stuart Reid

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Extra info for Culloden, 1746: Battlefield Guide

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Listen? I can hear the drums, calling us… ” A smile crept across the warrior’s face. Then a last breath of life escaped through carnivorous teeth, and the garden became still. Involuntarily, blood gushed from the mouth and nostrils, and urine was released in great pools. Where the Vorox had fought the spirit, a shrub pictogram depicting the Voice of Lightning was shattered, the graphic depiction of the reverberation of thunder splintered into unknowable mystery. Chaos had entered the garden. ” The song of parting.

They swaddled their pliable, fleshy parts in armor. This is to imitate the exoskeleton for which their bodies yearn. We silently followed the Decados. We moved swiftly along the treetops. Many times they stopped. Many times they carved away the filaments of the forest to sift the dirt for more rocks. Many times they collected the stones they found. But they came near to the Broken Place, and we fell upon them. We chopped away their false carapaces, and feasted on their flesh. We tore open their vessels, and planted our pupae.

Yeah. An emperor’s ransom. I could enjoy that, I mused as I flew back to the crash site, splashing wounded Ascorbites with my sparkling lancets of light from my forward lasers. I could do what I’ve always wanted to do — take a break from tearing around the Known Worlds and spend my evenings lazing around in pastoral settings, contentedly lying on my back, watching spectacular sunsets. That would be better than anything. As I landed at the crash site and cautiously climbed out of my hopper to retrieve the digger, I noticed the squirmy feeling of greed replacing my fear.

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