Lathe. Caine had been following the old blackcollar—had been obeying his orders or otherwise dancing to his tune—practically since his arrival on Plinry. Now, with his forced idleness giving him time to think, Caine realized the man was still largely an enigma to him. He had played a senile fool on his own world for years; then, without missing a beat, he'd become a leader with the full support of his men—men whose lives he was risking on a secret plan he wouldn't even discuss with them. Why did they follow him on such blind faith? But, then why was Caine doing so? Caine didn't know... and it was looking increasingly like he wouldn't live long enough to find out the answer to that. Or to anything else, for that matter.
"Got something!" the man at the sensor hood snapped suddenly. The helmsman didn't wait for Nmura's order, but threw the ship into emergency deceleration and began a slow reverse thrust. For a moment the air was brittle with tension. Then—"There it is, Hullmetal.... I think it's the bow, Commander. Wait—keep going... yes... yes, there's a second one down there, too."
"Look here," Tremayne pointed at the display screen, excitement in his voice. "You can see the outline of the cave or pit here—" he traced a barely visible curve snaking across the craggy surface—"and here. This could be one, too—I'll bet all five are right here." He looked over at Lathe. "You'd better get Jensen into a suit so he'll be ready to go the minute we find the way in. We haven't got much time."
"Actually—" Lathe glanced toward the displays—"I'm afraid I was a little dishonest with you on that. Jensen really can't do anything special with the Novas."
"What?" Tremayne's voice was soft.
"But as it happens," Lathe continued, "our time limit's no longer critical, either." He gestured toward the screens.
Caine turned to look... and froze at what he saw.
"Oh, my God!" Tremayne breathed. "Where in hell did that come from?"
Even to Caine the answer was obvious. The huge warship bearing down on them was moving at low speed, its drive trail diffuse and virtually invisible except at close range. Without such visual cues even the simplest sensor shielding would have been enough to hide the ship's approach from the freighter's equipment. "They must have been practically on top of us when we got here," he said mechanically. Part of him still refused to give up... but the rest knew it was over.
"But how could they have known?" Tremayne snarled. His voice showed he, too, knew they were finished.
"Because I sent them the location almost twenty hours ago," Lathe said calmly.
Caine spun to face the blackcollar, his hand falling to his laser butt. "You what?"
"Relax," Lathe advised, "and take another look. It's not what you think."
Frowning, Caine looked back at the screen. The warship, nearly Nova-class size itself, was growing clearer by the second as its delicately spined ellipsoid form began to fill the display.
It was Nmura who spotted it. "That's not a Ryqril design," he said, sounding puzzled. "At least" not one I've ever seen."
"No reason why it should be," Lathe told him. "It's a Chryselli ship."
"A Chryselli?" Nmura gasped. "What in hell is a Chryselli doing here?"
And it all clicked together. "Dodds!" Caine whooped. "That's where he's been—whistling up some help!"
Lathe stepped to the communications board and made an adjustment. "Comsquare Damon Lathe aboard Chainbreaker I to Frank Dodds; come in, please."
Dodds had clearly been waiting; almost instantly the small communications screen came alive with his broadly smiling image. "Dodds to Lathe and Chainbreaker I," his voice boomed from the speaker, sounding as relieved as Caine felt. "Glad you could make it. What's the situation?"
"We've got a number of Corsairs vectoring in on us, but I don't think they've got anything heavier in the system," Lathe said. "Can you hold them off until we get the Novas activated?"
Dodds turned his head and said something inaudible to the alien figures moving around in the background. "My hosts say it should be no problem," he said, turning back to the screen. "But you'd better get moving; we sneaked past some pretty big ships getting in and I want those Novas ready before the Ryqril send for reinforcements."
"Right." Lathe nodded to Nmura. "You heard the man, Commander. Get your teams organized and start checking those ships out. I can handle the bridge for now."
"Yes, sir." Nmura sent Tremayne a questioning look. "There's a lot of nontechnical work your people could help with, if you're willing."
"All right." Tremayne gave Lathe a look that was not quite hostile. "With your permission, of course, Comsquare." Turning, he followed Nmura out the door. Leaving Lathe and Caine alone with the bridge crew.
"I see your leadership style hasn't lost its old ramtank-like charm," Dodds said dryly.
"He's just a little disgruntled," Lathe said. "I'm sure he'll feel better when what we've accomplished finally hits him." He stretched tiredly and looked at Caine. "You can leave, too, if you'd like. Mordecai and the others will be down there watching out for possible collie agents, and they could probably use another pair of eyes."
Caine nodded. "Sure." He hesitated. "Before I go, though, I'd like to apologize for certain of the things I've said and thought about both of you these past few weeks. I realize now why you had to keep your plans secret, with Bakshi and the other spies still loose. But I didn't understand at the time."
Lathe waved a hand. "Forget it—you don't get a red-eyed dragon in order to become popular."
"The first time on the battlefield's always pretty rough, Caine," Dodds added. "You look like you survived okay—better than some I've seen."
"Thanks." Caine looked back at Lathe. "For the record, though, I wish you'd told us about the Chryselli ship three hours ago. By then it was too late for the Ryqril to do anything about it, and it would have done my blood pressure a lot of good."
"I had my reasons." Lathe shrugged.
"Mainly a promise to me," Dodds murmured unexpectedly.
"Dodds—"
"No, Lathe, it's all right," Dodds assured the blackcollar quietly. "It's bound to come out now anyway. And with these new ships the situation's considerably changed."
Caine looked back and forth between the two men... and the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. There was only one man Lathe could have sent to ask for Chryselli aid; only one man from Plinry who knew enough about the aliens to present the request; only one man the Chryselli themselves could conceivably have known, let alone trusted....
Lathe still looked doubtful, but Dodds was studying Caine's face, and his half smile showed he knew Caine had figured it out. Squaring his shoulders, Caine faced the screen and gave Dodds his best salute. "I'm honored to meet you at last, General Lepkowski," he said. "It appears reports of your death have been somewhat premature."
CHAPTER 33
On the ship's blueprints it was the number three officers' lounge; but with its lights out and the protective hull-metal dome retracted it became a fantasy world that was part observation deck, part planetarium, and part private sanctum. The stars seemed to crowd in toward the clear plastic hemisphere, and Caine could imagine the nearest asteroids to be parts of a free-form mobile. In the near distance one of the other Novas was visible, dwarfing the two freighters lying alongside like tender-craft. Half hidden below the dome's rim he could see the Chryselli ship, maintaining its silent vigil against a resumption of the attacks that had already cost the Ryqril a half wing of Corsairs.