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Something was wrong。 Something； someone； was …ing to interfere with this night of festival； unplanned and uninvited。 The demons knew the signs and they were not unprepared for the eventuality。 Was it not inevitable that the heroes of Wele would e after the boy？ Didn't the men believe； in their pitiable way； that their species was born out of earth's necessity to know itself； nurtured from mammal to mammal until it blossomed as humanity？
Natural then to treat the fathers as the enemy； to root them out and try to destroy them。 A tragedy really： when the only thought the fathers had was of unity through marriage； that their children should blunder in and spoil the celebration。
Still； men would be men。 Maybe Aaron would be different； though perhaps he too would go back in time into the human world and forget what he was learning here。 The creatures who were his fathers were also men's fathers： and the marriage of semen in Lucy's body was the same mix that made the first males。 Women had always existed： they had lived； a species to themselves； with the demons。 But they had wanted playmates： and together they had made men。
What an error； what a cataclysmic miscalculation。 Within mere eons； the worst rooted out the best； the women were made slaves； the demons killed or driven underground； leaving only a few pockets of survivors to attempt again that first experiment； and make men； like Aaron； who would be wiser to their histories。 Only by infiltrating humanity with new male children could the master race be made milder。 That chance was slim enough； without the interference of more angry children； their fat white fists hot with guns。
Aaron scented Packard and his stepfather； and smelling them； knew them to be alien。 After tonight they would be known dispassionately； like animals of a different species。 It was the gorgeous array of demons around him he felt closest to； and he knew he would protect them； if necessary； with his life。
Packard's car led the attack。 The wave of vehicles appeared out of the darkness； their sirens blaring； their headlights on； and drove straight towards the knot of celebrants。 From one or two of the cars terrified cops let out spontaneous howls of tenor when the full spectacle came into view； but by that time the attack force was mitted。 Shots were fired。 Aaron felt his fathers close around him protectively； their flesh now darkening with anger and fear。
Packard knew instinctively that these things were capable of fear； he could smell it off them。 It was part of his job to recognize fear； to play on it； to use it against the miscreant。 He screeched his orders into his microphone and led the cars into the circle of demons。 In the back of one of the following cars Davidson closed his eyes and offered up a prayer to Yahweh； Buddha and Groucho Marx。 Grant me power； grant me indifference； grant me a sense of humour。 But nothing came to assist him： his bladder still bubbled； and his throat still throbbed。
Ahead； the shriek of brakes。 Davidson opened his eyes （just a slit） and caught sight of one of the creatures wrapping its purple…black arm around Packard's car and lifting it into the air。 One of the back doors flung open and a figure he recognized as Eleanor Kooker fell the few feet to the ground followed closely by Eugene。 Leaderless； the cars were in a frenzy of collisions … the whole scene partially eclipsed by smoke and dust。 There was the sound of breaking windscreens as cops took the quick way out of their cars； the shrieks of crumpling hoods and sheered off doors。 The dying howl of a crushed siren； the dying plea of a crushed cop。
Packard's voice was clear enough； however； howling orders from his car even as it was lifted higher into the air； its engine revving； its wheels spinning foolishly in space。 The demon was shaking the car as a child might a toy until the driver's door opened and Jebediah fell to the ground at the creature's skirt of skin。 Davidson saw the skirt envelop the broken…backed deputy and appear to suck him into its folds。 He could see too how Eleanor was standing up to the towering demon as it devoured her son。
'Jebediah； e out of there！' she shrieked； and fired shot after shot into his devourer's featureless； cylindrical head。
Davidson got out of the car to see better。 Across a clutter of crashed vehicles and blood…splattered hoods he could make the whole scene out more plainly。 The demons were sloping away from the battle； leaving this one extraordinary monster to hold the bridgehead。 Quietly Davidson offered up a prayer of thanks to any passing deity。 The divils were disappearing。 There's be no pitched battle： no hand…to…tentacle fight。 The boy would be simply eaten alive； or whatever they planned for the poor little bastard。 Indeed； couldn't he see Aaron from where he stood？ Wasn't that his frail form the retreating demons were holding so high； like a trophy？
With Eleanor's curses and accusations in their ears the sheltering cops began to emerge from their hiding…places to surround the remaining demon。 There was； after all； only one left to face； and it had their Napoleon in its slimy grip。 They let off volley upon volley into its creases and tucks； and against the impartial geometry of its head； but the divil seemed unconcerned。 Only when it had shaken Packard's car until the Sheriff rattled like a dead frog in a tin can did it lose interest and drop the vehicle。 A smell of gasoline filled the air； and turned Davidson's stomach。
Then a cry： 'Heads down！'
A grenade？ Surely not； not with so much gasoline on the …Davidson fell to the floor。 A sudden silence； in which an injured man could be heard whimpering somewhere in the chaos； then the dull； earth…rocking thud of the erupting
grenade。
Somebody said Jesus Christ … with a kind of victory in his voice。
Jesus Christ。 In the name of。 。 。 for the glory of。 。
The demon was ablaze。 The thin tissue of its gasoline… soaked skirt was burning； one of its limbs had been blown off by the blast； another partially destroyed； thick； colourless blood splashed from the wounds and the stump。 There was a smell in the air like burnt candy： the creature was clearly in an agony of cremation。 Its body reeled and shuddered as the flames licked up to ignite its empty face； and it stumbled away from its tormentors； not sounding its pain。 Davidson got a kick out of seeing it burn： like the simple pleasure he had from putting the heel of his boot in the centre of a jelly…fish。 Favourite summer…time occupation of his childhood。 In Maine： hot afternoons： spiking men…o'…war。
Packard was being dragged out of the wreckage of his car。 My God； that man was made of steel： he was standing upright and calling his men to advance on the enemy。 Even in his finest hour； a flake of fire dropped from the flowering demon； and touched the lake of gasoline Packard was standing in。 A moment later he； the car； and two of his saviours were enveloped in a billowing cloud of white fire。 They stood no chance of survival： the flames just washed them away。 Davidson could see their dark forms being wasted in the heart of the inferno； wrapped in folds of fire； curling in on themselves as they perished。
Almost before Packard's body had