Part 62 (1/2)

Stifling a yawn, Telek turned back to the phone and Jonny's waiting image.

”Okay, I've got it,” she told him. ”Now you want to tell me why you had to wake me at-uh-”

”Four-forty,” Jonny supplied.

”-at four-forty in the morning to receive a magdisk you could have sent to my office four hours from now?”

”Certainly. I wanted you to have those four extra hours to see if we've come up with an alternative to war.”

Telek's eyes focused hard on his. ”You've got a viable counterproposal?”

”That's what you're going to tell me. And the Council, if the answer is yes.”

She licked her lips. ”Jonny...”

”If it works, we will get the new worlds,” he added quietly. ”Corwin and I have already worked out how to sell the whole thing to the Baliu demesne as a reasonable fulfillment of their contract.”

”I see. Thank you, Jonny. I'll get on it right away.”

The Moreau Proposal, as the plan came to be called, eventually was given an eighty percent chance of success by the experts who studied it. Lower by several points than a properly managed war... but with vast savings in human and economic costs. After two weeks of public and private debate, it was accepted.

And two months later, the Menssana and Dewdrop, accompanied by two Troft troop carriers, once again headed for Qasama.

Chapter 31.

Night on Qasama.

Again they dropped down silently, with only gravity lifts visible; but this time there were three s.h.i.+ps instead of just one. The Troft transports set down in two widely separated wilderness areas along the inner curve of the Fertile Crescent, while the Menssana landed near the top of the Crescent's arc. For York, aboard the latter s.h.i.+p, it was a significant location: barely ten kilometers from the road connecting Sollas and Huriseem. A suitable place indeed for him to repay the Qasamans for his lost arm.

There was a crackle of split-frequency static from the bridge speaker. ”Dewdrop to Menssana; hurry it up. We've got some very nasty-looking supersonic aircraft coming your way. ETA no more than fifteen minutes.”

”Acknowledged,” Captain Shepherd said calmly. ”The Trofts drawing similar attention?”

”Not specifically, but we've got other aircraft scrambling in what looks like a search pattern toward their general location. They've been alerted.”

”Better anti-radar equipment,” York grunted.

”There they go,” someone said from the bridge's left viewport.

York stepped to his side. The Menssana's outer floods had been dimmed to a soft glow, but there was enough light for him to see the silent exodus from the s.h.i.+p's cargo holds.

The ma.s.s exodus of spine leopards.

Most of the animals paused a moment as they stepped out onto the unfamiliar soil, looking around or visibly fighting for balance as the effects of their long sleep dissipated. But none lingered long by the s.h.i.+p. They loped off into the darkness of the forest, the ma.s.s already beginning to spread out as they vanished from view, and York could almost sense the eagerness with which they set out to study their new home. However they knew such things, they must surely know this was a world literally full of unclaimed territory. How large would their first litters here be, he wondered. Fifteen cubs? Twenty? No matter. An ecological niche existed, and the spine leopards would do what was necessary to fill the gap.

And with luck, the mojos would soon find they again had a choice of partners.

York hoped to h.e.l.l Telek was right about the birds' distaste for cities.