Willful Child by Steven Erikson

dies.”
    “Look, Tammy, it’s part of our mandate. We barrel in, we fuck things up, and then walk away feeling good about ourselves. Anyway, it’s not a permanent shutdown, just a reprogramming. The Hub’s begging for peace between the contestants, but that’s been a Big Fail so far, for how many centuries? No, the Hub needs to get a lot cleverer. Outright manipulation is required. Force some hard choices on the inhabitants—sure, they won’t like it, but in the long run it’ll be good for them.”
    “Appallingly, Captain, I see that there is a certain logic to your argument. But I feel, before we proceed, that I should explain some more regarding the nature of the aliens in this subterranean world. There are multiple factions, as I may have mentioned before. But none are responsible for either the technology present here, or the Phase Event that brought the world into T space. As far as I can tell, these factions were all subservient to the dominant species—a species that has transitioned into a higher state of noncorporeal consciousness.”
    “Right,” said Hadrian. “So these things left behind, were they the slaves? The maids? The gardeners? Street sweepers?”
    “More like … pets.”
    “Are you telling me the cats and dogs are at war?”
    “Cat, dogs, hamsters, budgies, gerbils, ponies, Vietnamese potbellied pigs—”
    Galk said, “Doesn’t sound like a war we want to get in the middle of, sir.”
    Hadrian scowled. “You may have a point, Galk. But I admit, I’m having trouble imagining the potential threat of hamsters or gerbils—how about you?”
    “Perhaps it is not their size, sir, but where they might go.”
    Skittering sounds swung the men around in serious alarm, and from one end of the corridor there appeared a mob of exceedingly tall, small-skulled, insectlike creatures.
    “I’ll hold them off, sir!” Buck cried, flipping open his Multiphasic Universal, and then rushing straight for the giant aliens.
    “Damn!” said Hadrian. “Galk, keep an eye on the other direction! I’ll go get Buck!”
    “Sir, that makes no—”
    But Hadrian was already sprinting after his chief engineer. “Relax! They’re big and big means slow and slow means stupid and—”
    He saw an alien snap down one pincerlike hand and lift Buck into the air. The chief engineer tried kicking it in the face but the lower half of its head opened wide and clamped down on the man’s boot. Buck screamed as it bit that foot in half. Panicked, he stabbed with his Universal, but its smart chip elected to snap out the toothpick tool.
    Hadrian leapt at the alien, fists swinging.
    “Ow! Ow!”
    Rebounding from the alien’s exoskeleton, the captain staggered back. Another multijointed, spiked arm reached out and picked him up, only to then throw him against a wall. A second alien rushed to descend on Hadrian, as if moments from beginning to feed. But its head disintegrated in a yellow burst of goo. Galk reached Hadrian and, one-handed, dragged the captain away, firing over Hadrian’s head, the Importune Interjection Concussive Inert Projectile Personal hand weapon, Mark III-B, booming like a cannon.
    Then all was silent, apart from the savage ringing in Hadrian’s ears. He climbed to his feet.
    Buck was crawling out from a mass of shattered exoskeleton, body-parts, and pea-soup gore. The chief engineer was weeping uncontrollably, eye cups filling, puke in the mouth cup, and one half foot trailing blood as he slammed his Multiphasic Universal onto the floor again and again.
    “That was close,” said Hadrian. “Good shooting, Galk.”
    “A mere delaying of the inevitable, sir.”
    “More are coming, then?”
    “Unknown. I was taking the long view.”
    “How many bullets you got left in that thing?”
    The Varekan held up the weapon. “I begin to comprehend this weapon’s drawback.”
    Cradling his hands, Hadrian glared up at his combat specialist. “Can you be more precise here? It might be useful.”
    “The