Part 28 (1/2)

”Admiral S'Gan relayed your request, K'Tran,” said D'Trelna, choosing his words. ”They haven't responded yet.”

”I'm the nucleus of a very sophisticated s.h.i.+p, D'Trelna,” said K'Tran. ”We know that Admiral S'Gan is dead, that you've been declared corsair, and that the Combine T'Lan AIs have intercepted all warnings and messages.”

The commodore's shoulders slumped. ”Knowing that, you still want this alliance?”

”It makes no difference now. The vanguard of Fleet of the One has entered this quadrant and is headed for D'Lin. We're out of time.”

”Can you stop them?” said D'Trelna.

There was a long pause. ”Maybe,” came the answer. ”But once they see how few we are, their main force will come through and wipe us.”

”We have a plan,” said the commodore, and sketched it for the mindslaver.

”Mad,” said K'Tran, ”but audacious-something I'd have thought of. One cruiser against an empire. And have you an equally effective solution for the Combine AIs?”

”I have.” It was R'Gal. ”But I won't discuss it over the commnet.”

”And who are you?”

”Colonel R'Gal, Fleet Intelligence.”

There was brief pause. ”Very well, Colonel, Commodore. You're all invited for dinner aboard Alpha Prime. Alpha Prime. We can discuss it then.” We can discuss it then.”

Of all the bizarre and ghastly things, thought D'Trelna.

”And who will we dine with-disembodied whispers?” he asked. ”And where? In some dour, instrument-laden room?”

”Myself, and a select few, all in the flesh-firm, wholesome flesh. And I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the circ.u.mstances, Commodore. We're not ghouls, you know-merely selectively altered life-forms.”

”Very well,” said D'Trelna, and agreed to a time. Disconnecting, he turned to L'Wrona. ”Dinner with the ghouls, Captain L'Wrona. Wear your best side arm.”

”Where are we going?” asked Zahava as John hurried her along the corridor to hangar deck.

”Wallenberg and Eichmann,” he said. ”Kafka's sister and Mengele.”

”You've lost it,” she said as they stepped into the deck.

”We're going to dine with the devil-maybe dance with him, too. Captain K'Tran's invited us for supper,” he said.

”No!” she said, stopping.

”Come on,” he said, pulling her by the arm. ”Our dinner companions await.” He nodded to where D'Trelna, L'Wrona, R'Gal and Guan-Sharick were boarding the shuttle.

The hall might have been taken from the Venice of the doges: gold and linen, bright banners hung high, fourth and seventh dynasty paintings gracing the soft-textured walls, blue-liveried servants in profusion.

Terrans and K'Ronarins had stopped at the double doors, staring.

”Come in, please,” said K'Tran, standing at the head of the table, motioning with a wine goblet. He was elegantly dressed in a red-gold uniform, silver braid about his shoulders, a smile on his face. Others rose as they entered- Imperial marine officers, the very ones they'd fought a few days before, nodding and smiling, the admiral at K'Tran's left.

”I've died and gone to h.e.l.l,” muttered D'Trelna, leading the way. He wore his dress uniform, insignia gleaming, the Valor Medal hanging from a crimson chain around his neck.

All through dinner-a silent, sumptuous meal-John found his eyes wandering to KTran's cranium. The corsair caught him at it. ”Does it matter?” he asked.

”No,” said the Terran, his question answered. Let it be over soon, he prayed. Beside him a wan-looking Zahava played with her food.

”You're R'Gal, aren't you?” said K'Tran after a dessert of spice cake.

R'Gal nodded.

K'Tran leaned back, studying R'Gal. ”You're an AI,” he said.

There was a perfect silence at the table. ”Really?” said R'Gal, studying the amber wine in his gla.s.s.

”We subst.i.tuted our stasis field for the one holding T'Lan,” said K'Tran. ”And we debriefed him. The Combine AIs know about you, R'Gal, but no others, if any. I a.s.sume you were a figure of some note, back home?”

”Of some note,” said R'Gal with a wry smile, still looking at his wine.

”And your plan to deal with the Combine infiltrators?” said K'Tran, leaning forward.

R'Gal met his gaze. ”Expose them.”

”How?”

R'Gal looked at D'Trelna. ”Implacable ”Implacable must return to Prime Base, and the commodore must stand trial.” must return to Prime Base, and the commodore must stand trial.”

D'Trelna set down his wine gla.s.s. ”The commodore does not like that idea,” he said. ”The commodore wants to return victorious, the savior of humanity, cheered by the mult.i.tudes.”

”They'd mindwipe him, R'Gal,” said Guan-Sharick. ”Throw him in the Tower and mindwipe him. And send the rest of the crew to a penal world.”

The AI shook his head. ”No. We'd stop it-the Watchers.”

”So there are more of you,” said K'Tran. ”Surely no more than a handful?”

”But well placed,” smiled R'Gal, ”and with certain abilities you're not aware of. We'd save D'Trelna and his men long before it got nasty.”

”Trial,” said L'Wrona. ”That's what you want, isn't it?”

R'Gal nodded. ”Public trial of a war hero-”

”Really,” said the commodore.

”-of a war hero,” continued R'Gal, looking around the table. ”It'd be broadcast live to every home in the Confederation. Tell them the whole thing, D'Trelna-the Combine won't dare stop you.”

”I have no proof,” said D'Trelna, considering it.

”We'll provide the proof, Commodore,” said R'Gal. ”Trust us.”