It felt no larger than a pebble but it struck with a force that sent stars shooting across Xipu’s vision, shattering his running cadence and throwing him sideways onto the desert rock. He immediately scrambled to his feet, throwing himself from side to side to scan the horizon, his two hearts hammering his abdomen. Crouched low he turned small circles searching for the threat and seeing nothing but the rainbow colors of rock and sand.

It had been a small thing but small things could kill out in the Wastes. It might have been a zip pellet, he thought, or a sling stone. The Mantecs of this sector were know to use them and it was a common enough occurrence for those vermin to try and take a lone radiosaur. He cursed himself for acting as absent minded as a two-run fool. He had let the rhythm of the survey run lull him into a stupor, thinking too soon on this last leg of the sleep and comfort waiting at Badwater Station. It was only after a minute passed with no second shot came that Xipu finally slowed his defensive circling and heard the tiny intermittent scraping of frantic steel on rock.

It was no more than the size of a ripened grape and at first Xipu had difficulty in locating it among the iridescent sands he had churned up in his haste but eventually the sound and the glint of sunlight off that hateful cybernetic body led him to the spot. Even though Xipu had known at once what it must be, still his nostrils flared wide and the nictitating membranes that covered his eyes fluttered in fear as he saw the small metal insect that jerked and buzzed on the sand.

Swarm.

Xipu’s talons flashed out on instinct, slashing down, but the monster was too small and he succeeded only in casting it away. Coming up again, Xipu frantically raised his haunch and smashed his foot down to crush the drone against the rock. Again and again he brought his full weight down on the thing, trusting in strength and weight to smash the power out of it and each time the rise of his claws showed the flickering minilights and steel exoframe still intact. Falling to his knees Xipu cast about himself until he gripped a flat piece of sand blown pumice. Scrabbling back through the dust he brought the sharp edge of the wind scraped rock squarely down onto the struggling drone. Three times Xipu struck before the drone went silent and he was again surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the wind across the Waste.

Xipu knew he must flee. Encountering only a single drone meant he must be on the very edge of the Swarm’s territory. But where there was one there were many. Crouched low he set out West, casting terrified glances to each side, at any minute expecting to hear to the terrible droning of the swarm. His talons bit into the sand, the webbing on his feet throwing it behind him, building speed, conserving nothing, his legs hammering like a machine flying across the Waste. With each meter his equilibrium returned. The drone had broken a wing. He had destroyed it before it could report! Fifty meters, seventy, a  kilometer! He would clear the Swarm’s range and be safe. Home! He was Xipu, Map Runner to the Second Surveyor Clan of the Science Castes and no radiosaur could run as well.

So glorious was the feeling that Xipu did not feel the first drone attach. He sensed only a strange shifting in his gyrotheodolite as if it had been seated badly in the harness, then a resistance on his retroreflector as if someone had been plucking at his sleeve. The blood hammering in his skull still muffled the humming of the tiny saws and the snap of the cutting lasers.

Some days later the section survey master of Badwater Station moved a chit on his board from active to missing. And no more was ever heard of Xipu Runner, of the Second Surveyor Clan of the Science Castes.