Empire: Book 2, The Chronicles of the Invaders (The Chronicles of the Invaders Trilogy) Read Online Free Page B

hangover, a form of protection against something that no longer existed, but which was by now so embedded in the development of the creatures—like the human appendix, as De Souza had explained to them, by way of comparison—that it had not been discarded.
    Paul hadn’t contradicted De Souza, even though he seemed to recall that scientists had, in fact, discovered that the purpose of the appendix was to store helpful bacteria. Besides, just because something didn’t easily reveal the reason for its existence wasn’t the same thing as not having one at all.
    “Take us down,” said Faron. “Land inside the perimeter, but stay at the controls and keep the shuttle primed. I want us to be able to leave here in an instant, if necessary.”
    “In the blink of an eye, you might even say,” a jaded voice announced.
    It was Thula, the Zulu corporal. Faron shot Thula a hateful glance, but said nothing. Like all Illyri, Faron did not have eyelids. Instead his eyes were protected by a nictitating membrane similar to that found in birds, reptiles, and some mammals. He knew that Thula had made a joke at his expense, but he wasn’t about to reprimand the youth. If Faron hid a secret fear of the human troopers, he failed utterly to disguise the fact that Thula terrified him.
    Thula’s full name was Khethukuthula. It meant “choose to stay quiet” in his own tongue. Cutler had once suggested to Thula that it really meant “mouthful,” at which point Thula had lifted Cutler from the ground by his neck and waited for him to start turning blue before releasing him. Thula’s name was not entirely suited to him, for Paul had found him to be more open in private. His public face was serious, though, and he rarely smiled. He was slim but immensely strong, and almost as tall as the average Illyri. Like Paul and Steven, Thula had been a member of the Resistance, fighting and killing the Illyri in South Africa, and had barely escaped a death posting to thePunishment Battalions, where the Illyri sent those humans who were regarded as terrorists and criminals. It was one of the reasons why he and Paul had bonded. Thula’s intelligence and strength marked him out: even the Illyri were not inclined to waste the potential of such a fighter.
    Thula winked at Paul. Paul just shook his head in amusement. Faron was only a few months into his command. They could be stuck with him for many more. It made sense to try to find a way to live with him as best they could, and antagonize him as little as necessary.
    But, then again, Faron really was a jackass.
    Steven slowly brought the shuttle down. Without being ordered, the twelve troopers on board began checking their weapons. All Illyri weapons issued to humans or other species were fitted with sensors that prevented them from being fired at an Illyri target so that the Brigades could not rebel against their Illyri commanders. Brigade troops received pulse weapons as standard issue, but few really liked carrying them, for the pulse weapons were designed for use in conjunction with the Illyri’s own implanted neural Chips. This meant that the force of the pulse blast was decided in the split-second interaction between the user’s brain and the Chip, and transmitted instantly to the rifle: a stun, a kill, or a full-force shot that could blow a hole in a wall.
    Humans, though, were not permitted to be chipped—supposedly because the functioning of the human and Illyri brains differed, but mostly because the Illyri did not want to implant subject races with such cutting-edge technology. But the truth, as Paul had quickly come to learn during basic training, was that the Chips had made the Illyri slightly lazy: they had come to depend upon them so much that some of their natural responses had been dulled. For instance, Paul’s brother might not have been as technically proficient a pilot as some of the Illyri, but he was a more adaptive one, relying on his wits, not just technology.
    Without Chips,