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She was crying now, quietly snivelling to herself from fear and self pity. Birch took no notice. He simply carried on methodically placing each blow...until he was satisfied. Emi felt him step away from her. She imagined him examining her marks carefully, head on one side, like an artist looking for flaws in a masterpiece. She was afraid that, like the artist, he might decide that he’d missed a bit, but instead of a paintbrush, he’d take up his belt again and correct it. Emi held her. "I was expecting that, considering the size of the payload each is carrying. At least they will be far more efficient that just a heat seeking missile. How many do you have?" Wren asked."Given the limited space we have to store them, only ten thousand slightly more than the last time we met them." Trigon said."Alright that will have to do, with any luck they will be as stupid as the last bunch, clumped together." Wren said. "Keep a watch, as far in as we are I expect to start seeing some sign. More

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