Part 22 (1/2)

”Yes.”

D'Trelna nodded slowly, picking up his gauntlets. ”That should do it-let's go home. Everyone back to Implacable.'' Implacable.'' ”And the brainpods?” ”And the brainpods?”

”Leave them.”

John had been teleported by a S'Cotar before-he still found it staggering. One second, and he was standing in his quarters, looking down at Guan-Sharick; the next, he stood blinking in some dim cavern, heart pounding, adrenaline surging through his body. Peering about, he saw that the light came from around a bend of what was a great round tunnel, carved through bedrock.

”Where are we?” he demanded, voice sounding hoa.r.s.e.

”About half a mile down-the remains of an old tube system of D'Lin,” said the blonde. ”The metal was scavenged after the Fall.” She pointed to old gouges along the walls and floor. ”Now pull yourself together, and we'll go visit your wife and the kids.”

”Kids?” said the Terran as the S'Cotar led the way around the bend.

John threw his hands over his face as battletorch beams blinded him. Then he found himself clutching a warm, buxom body. Zahava.

”You're okay?” he asked, holding her at arm's length, looking her up and down.

”Of course,” she said, kissing him.

It was then that he saw the children sitting along the walls, silent, watching. And the other S'Cotar.

”We still have time to get away,” said L'Wrona. He and D'Trelna stood in front of the big board, watching the tactical plot. The Combine s.h.i.+ps were coming in at flank. ”They'll be launching missiles soon,” he continued when the commodore didn't reply. ”The s.h.i.+eld-”

”We stand,” said D'Trelna, turning from the board. ”If we don't, they'll finish whatever h.e.l.lish business they were doing down there.” He sat down in his chair and dialed up a fata.

”If we stand,” said L'Wrona softly, ”we die.”

D'Trelna sipped and shrugged. ”We've cheated death a long time now, H'Nar.”

”Excuse me, Commodore,” said K'Raoda. ”Commtorps launched. Ninety-nine point eight percent chance they'll hit jump before they can be intercepted.”

”Thank you, T'Lei,” said D'Trelna. He looked back at the captain. ”Everything's in those torps, H'Nar. Fleet will be warned-they'll smoke Combine T'Lan and continue the search for the Trel Cache.”

”Wrong,” said a different voice. Both men turned. R'Gal stood behind the commodore's chair. ”You underestimate the depth of infiltration, gentlemen. Combine T'Lan's influence is pervasive. Your report will either be dismissed or lost, Commodore. Your only hope is to break off now, jump for K'Ronar, and sound the alarm.”

16.

”My G.o.d!” said John, looking down the tunnel. ”What are all these kids doing here?”

Zahava explained, precisely and clinically.

”Why are the AIs ripping off brains?” asked John, turning to where the two S'Cotar stood next to the D'Linian troopers. They looked up at his question.

”We think,” said Guan-Sharick, ”that their s.h.i.+ps were damaged in some way-computers destroyed. It's the only plausible explanation. The Rift sealed by the Trel has opened-the Fleet of the One can enter this reality at any time-yet they haven't. Perhaps they're awaiting a signal.''

D'Trelna looked at R'Gal for a moment, then nodded slowly. ”Maybe. But ...”

”But?” said the AI.

”But I still like to follow my instincts,” said the commodore. ”My instincts say if we go back, they'll arrest me and disregard our story. My instincts say we stay and fight-then go back.”

”If we survive,” added L'Wrona, watching the target blips closing on the board.

”Captain L'Wrona,” said the commodore, finis.h.i.+ng his t'ata, ”you will advance and engage the enemy.”

”As the commodore orders,” said L'Wrona, turning for his post.

A few moments later the battle klaxon sounded as Implacable Implacable moved out and headed at flank for the center of the enemy formation. moved out and headed at flank for the center of the enemy formation.

”Who's , . . he?” asked John, pointing to the other S'Cotar.

”Lan-Asal,” said the new S'Cotar. ”Formerly Exarch Y'Gar of D'Lin.”

”Here, too?” said John. ”Why did you bother with this world?”

”It's a vital place,” said Lan-Asal. ”The Trel Cache is somewhere in this system. That's one reason the AIs have made it their base.''

”They haven't found it?” said Zahava.

Guan-Sharick shrugged. ”We don't know.”

”Why are you projecting almost identical illusions?” asked John.

”That will be obvious soon, I think,” said Guan-Sharick.

”What about the children? Are they just going to stay here?” John asked Zahava.

”Until this crisis is over, yes. It's the safest place for them,” she said.

John looked at the kids. Some were sleeping, huddled in blankets; a few were eating. He guessed the oldest to be twelve, the youngest six. They were remarkably quiet and well-behaved-too much so, reminding him of kids from Vietnam and Lebanon-war children: watchful, silent, robbed of their childhood.

He turned to the S'Cotar. ”What do you need us for?”

You can hear me, can't you, Harrison? said a voice inside his head. said a voice inside his head.

”You know I can,” said John.

And you, Zahava?

”Yes,” she frowned. ”But . . .”

”Good,” said Guan-Sharick. ”You'll do.”

”Do what?” said John, eyes s.h.i.+fting between the two trans.m.u.tes.

”Whatever we say,” said the blonde. ”You each gave us your word. If you renege, so will we.” The S'Cotar glanced at the kids.