Part 43 (1/2)

”Reaction?”

Corwin looked up to meet his father's eyes. ”They were lucky,” he said bluntly.

”They should all have been killed out there.”

Jonny nodded. ”Yes. The Qasamans' only error was that they wanted as much information as they could get before destroying the mission. If they hadn't cared they could have blown up the Dewdrop any of a dozen different times.”

Corwin grimaced. York's arm gone, Winward's eyes only slowly coming back,

Cerenkov and Rynstadt still in critical condition aboard an orbiting Troft s.h.i.+p-and with all of that, he could still consider the mission lucky. ”What in heaven's name have we gotten ourselves into?” he muttered.

”A real mess.” Jonny sighed. ”How long before Sun and company finish with their debriefing? Any idea?”

”Uh...” Corwin retrieved his comboard, punched up a request. ”Not before this evening. And they're not releasing anyone to the public until morning.”

”That's okay; we're not public.” The elder Moreau stared into s.p.a.ce a moment. ”I want you to call your mother and arrange with her to go to the Cobra Academy tonight-use my name to get in, and if they give you any interference quote 'em some next-of-kin prerogatives-I'm sure you can find something applicable on the books. Don't talk politics with your brothers, and don't keep them up too late; life'll get hectic again for them when the Council gets its turn tomorrow.”

Corwin nodded. ”Will you be there, too?”

”Yes, but don't wait for me. I've got a couple of errands to do first.”

”Alone?”

Jonny gave his eldest a lopsided smile. ”My joints just had a nice vacation on sunny worlds. I can face Aventine's winter on my own for a few hours, thank you.”

Corwin shrugged. ”Just asking.”

But he lingered in the outer office long enough to hear Yutu make arrangements with the starfield for a ground-to-orbit shuttle. His father, it appeared, would not have to worry much about Aventine's winter tonight.

Winter, as such, didn't exist aboard Troft wars.h.i.+ps.

For the fourth time in almost that many minutes the comboard screen seemed to blur in front of Telek's eyes; and for the fourth time she shook her head stubbornly and swallowed a mouthful of cahve. It was late, she was tired, and she would need to be at least marginally coherent for the Council meeting in the morning. But this was the first chance she'd had to see the Menssana's report, and she was determined to have at least a pa.s.sing acquaintance with what they'd found before she checked out for the night.

There was a light tap at the door. ”Come,” she called.

It wasn't, as she'd expected, one of the Academy medical staff. ”The nurses at the monitor station are annoyed you haven't gone to sleep yet,” Jonny commented as he walked into the room.

She blinked, then snorted. ”They brought you all the way from Capitalia to tell me that?”

”Hardly. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in.” Pulling up a chair, he sat down.

Telek nodded. ”They did good. You can be d.a.m.n proud of them.”

”I know. Though Justin doesn't think so.”

”Well, he's wrong,” Telek growled. ”If he'd tried to get to Purma's underground stuff, he wouldn't have made it out alive. Period. And if he hadn't made it out, we might have taken Yuri and Marck aboard before we knew how the Qasamans like to stack their deals.”

”I understand that. He will too, eventually. I hope.” Jonny waved toward her comboard. ”The Menssana's report?”

”Uh-huh. You people did pretty well yourselves.”