And he settled back to wait.
The distinctive whine of gravity lifts, faint even in his enhanced hearing, finally dragged Justin from his sleep. For a moment he lay quietly in the tall grass, reorienting himself, allowing the bitter memories to return. Then, carefully, he raised his head.
The motion drew an involuntary hiss between his teeth; he'd forgotten all the places his body ached. But the sight in the northern sky drove all such considerations into the background. Against the blazing stars of Qasama's night a hazy reddish oval was drifting.
The Dewdrop was making a break for it.
He watched the haze for a long minute, teeth clamped together as he tried not to cry. They were leaving. Without him. Without Cerenkov and Rynstadt, as well?
Probably. There was no way to know for sure; but Telek had counted on him to rescue them, and his failure probably meant they were all marooned.
Marooned.
Automatically, as if trying to insulate itself from the emotional shock, his mind began tracing out his options. He could escape into the forest, living off the wild game there, and hope he could hold out until the military expedition that would surely follow. Or he could try to find a village that would trade his
Cobra skills for sanctuary from the central authorities. Or-
Or he could just stay here in the grass until he died. It all amounted to that in the end.
It was only then that the realization broke through to him that the Dewdrop was moving too slowly.
Much too slowly. They crippled it, was his first, awful thought... but if the grav lifts had been damaged F'ahl should have kicked in the main drive by now to assist. No, something else was happening... and abruptly, he understood.
They were flying low and slow on purpose. Looking for him.
He'd rolled over on his back in an instant, glancing toward the city as he lifted his left leg, but not really caring if anyone there spotted his signal.
In a few minutes the Dewdrop would be here... and after his moments of despair the promise of rescue was flooding his mind and body with adrenaline-fueled determination. Let the Qasamans come for him now-let the whole city get in his way if they wanted to.
Targeting the Dewdrop, he fired his antiarmor laser three times.
Thirty kilometers away, the ship's hull would barely register the heat of those shots; but for the watchers aboard, the flashes of light should be impossible to miss. Assuming someone was watching.
And apparently they were. From the front-inside of the red oval the Dewdrop's landing lights flicked twice in acknowledgment. Shifting to a crouch, Justin got ready to move, keeping alert for trouble from the city.
It took the Dewdrop a few minutes to come to ground-and it did so, inexplicably, a good kilometer north. Justin briefly considered signaling again, decided it would be safer to just go to it, and set off in a crouching run.
No one opened fire before he reached the ship. Link was waiting by the open hatchway as he came up, and favored the younger man with a tight smile. "Welcome back," he said, gripping Justin's hand briefly. He gave the other a fast once-over before returning his eyes to the city. "You've never seen a group of people so happy as when we saw your signal."
"I was happy enough for all of you put together," Justin told him, following
Link's gaze. A half-dozen cars and a bus could be seen approaching from city's edge. "Looks like a good time to get out of here."
Link shook his head. "They're bringing Yuri and Marck-Almo struck a deal for their release."
"What kind of deal?" Justin frowned.
"A sort of promise not to tear up their industrial base before we go." Link glanced at the other. "Why don't you go inside, get any injuries seen to. I can handle this."
"Well... all right." Something about this felt wrong, but for the moment Justin couldn't figure out what. Turning, he stepped into the hatch and sprung the inner door-and walked straight into his brother's arms.
For a minute they just held each other-the man who'd done his job, Justin thought bitterly, and the man who hadn't.
But for the moment his shame was swallowed up in the relief of being safe again.
Joshua released him and stepped back, still gripping his brother's shoulders.
"You hurt anywhere?"
"I'm fine," Justin shook his head. "What's happened since I left?"
Joshua glanced toward the hatch. "Let's get to the lounge where we can watch that convoy," he suggested. "I can give you a fast rundown on the way."
They reached the lounge a minute later to find Nnamdi and Christopher gazing at the outside monitors, the scientists' greetings muted by their attention being elsewhere. That suited Justin; he'd already had more of a hero's welcome than he properly deserved. "Where's the governor?" he asked Joshua as they took seats in front of another screen.
"Back in sick bay with Michael. She should be back by the time the others get here. And Almo's outside, behind the front landing spotlights, where he can back up Dorjay if the Qasamans make any trouble."
"But they won't," Nnamdi spoke up. "They've made their deal, and it's a fair one. And we've already seen they follow through on their promises."
Justin snorted. "Like with that fake explosive collar?"
All eyes turned to him. "What do you mean, fake?" Christopher asked.
"I mean they suckered us royally. Those cylinders held cameras and recorders, not explosives. They let Joshua come in so that they could get a quick look inside the Dewdrop."
Christopher swore under his breath. "But then they must have seen you two switch places. My God-you're lucky you got out alive after that."
Some of the burden seemed to lift from Justin's conscience. Seen in that light, perhaps he hadn't done such a bad job, after all.
The convoy outside had halted a hundred meters from the Dewdrop and a crowd of
Qasamans was forming around the vehicles when Telek reappeared in the lounge.
"Justin; glad you made it," she said distractedly as she leaned over
Christopher's shoulder. "Any sign of them yet?"
"I don't see them," he replied. "They're probably in the bus off to one side, there." He pointed; and as if on cue, two figures emerged from the vehicle, struggling a bit as they plowed through the knee-high grass.
Cerenkov and Rynstadt.
The edge of the crowd withdrew a bit as the two men passed on their way to the
Dewdrop. "Watch for drawn weapons," Telek said to the room in general. "We don't want them pulling a last-minute suicide rush or some such trick."
"If they were going to pull something, wouldn't they have done it while they still had Almo, Michael, and Dorjay under the gun?" Nnamdi suggested.
"Maybe," Telek grunted. "But we were hair-trigger alert then. Maybe they expect us to be lulled now. Anyway, I don't trust them-they accepted this deal too easily for my taste."
"Like they accepted my ultimatum to bring Decker back," Joshua muttered. Justin looked at his brother, found him staring at the approaching men with a look of intense concentration on his face.
Telek glanced in the twins' direction. "Something?"
"Tell her, Justin," Joshua said, eyes and frown still on the display.
Justin explained again about the spy collar. "Um," Telek grunted when he'd finished. "You think they've planted a bomb or something on one of them,
Joshua?"
"I don't know," Joshua said slowly. "But I suddenly don't like this."
"Me, neither." Telek hesitated, then picked up the mike and punched for the outside speakers. "Yuri, Marck? Hold it there a second, would you?"