But then the glare died, and the darkness took charge of the moonscape. The things that lived in Tiresian soil and water went back to their sleep, even though long, low-register sound waves shook them.
In the barely flightworthy framework of what had been the Farrago, which was attached to the big Karbarran vessel that was its largest single component, Bela wiped away the crimson seeping from the bloody nose Rick Hunter had gotten when he lost his footing.
She dabbed at it with the snow-white headband she had worn under her metal war helm. Rick looked through the blister, down at Tirol and the expanding ball of gas that had been the Pursuer, and the far-off spacecraft that had been parts of the Sentinels' battlewagon.
"When we saw through intercepted messages how soundly you Humans and your Zentraedi friends whipped the Invid on Tirol," she was telling him, "we thought you'd make good allies. But now we know for sure it's nice to meet you, friend."
She had his right hand in a kind of clasping grip, but a moment later she had his hand open, examining, it, while Rick tried to make the compartment stop spinning.
"Not much callus," Bela observed. "How do you keep your sword from rubbing your skin raw?"
Rick shook his head, little neuron-firings making stars seem to orbit before his eyes, trying to figure out how to answer her.
Just then, there was an angry growl from Lron, who was overseeing the rejoining of the sundered parts of the Sentinels' ship. From what Rick could make out, it had something to do with a master junction that was located down near those impossible peat furnaces.
"Battle's over, so Crysta and Lron will be demoralized for a while," Bela said, releasing Rick's hand. "They're really quite dour, much of the time. Like all Karbarrans: morbid, always preoccupied with Fate and all of that…"
She snatched his hand back for a second, taking a longer look at his palm. "I don't think you're in for a very long or serene life, by the way, Admiral."
"No surprise there," he muttered, taking his hand back and frowning at it. Then he looked to Bela again. "Listen, this ship, you Sentinels-it's all so fantastic! How did you put together a fighting alliance like this? How did you assemble such a starship?"
They were on their feet once more and the other envoys had gathered round, except for Lron, who was still at the helm. "We didn't" Burak said. "The Invid did, by imprisoning us together."
When Rick asked, "But how'd you turn the tables?" everyone looked to Veidt. A moment or two elapsed while Veidt considered the question.
"I think you'd better come with us," Veidt said. "It will be more to the point to show you…certain things…than to talk about them."
A few minutes later, Rick stood at the barred cage that had once housed the ship's menagerie-Karbarrans in this case, if he was any judge of scent. But what lay moaning and clanking its shackles was nothing like any Karbarran, or any other Sentinel.
He spoke into a commo-patch mike the Sentinels had somehow crafted for him in their careless, make-do fashion. The microphone looked like some kind of jet-black motion-picture trophy, while the outlandish earphones were so big that he had to sort of drape them over his shoulders. The whole time, he was looking at the thing before him-the Sentinels' prisoner.
"Lisa, don't bother asking me to describe what they've got here, please. Just get a couple of security platoons over to me on the double. And interpreters, recording equipment, a couple yards of anchor chain, some portable sensors-oh, babe, send the whole toyshop over here!"
He could hear a certain iciness in her voice. "Understood. Keep me posted, if you'll be so kind, Admiral."
One part of him berated itself for having hurt her feelings so; but most of Rick Hunter was simply staring, aghast, at what crouched in the cell.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was almost as if I had called up something from the unformed, the ultimate Potential, into existence.
The appearance of the Sentinels was the answer to my every requirement, in the wake of the vast power I had secretly wrested from the Invid, power I was as yet unable to exercise.
There are a few individuals in the timestream of this universe who have been granted the gift of sheer Will, to mold events according to their desire. I am one of them.
Or perhaps, in a way, I am all of them.
General T. R. Edwards, personal journal
"Not a mere scientist," the Invid corrected sharply, with a rattling of manacles that made some of the guards put their hands to their pistol butts. "I am Tesla, Master Scientist to the Invid Regent! Now, release me, you pitiful lower life-forms!"
Tesla turned his huge wrists, testing the strength of the forged-alloy shackles the Sentinels had put on him. His grainy green skin rasped against the metal. He stretched the three thick fingers of both hands and flexed the opposable thumbs. "Release me, I say! Or you will feel the vengeance of the Invid!"
Tesla was a creature about ten feet tall, with a thick, reasonably humanoid torso and limbs.
But his head was a slender extension resembling a snail's snout, with two huge black liquid eyes set on either side. At the tip of the snout were two sensor antennae like glistening slugs that glowed whenever he spoke.
Rick found himself looking at those eyes, much as he tried to avoid it, while Lang and the others made their recordings and measurements. The eyes were as unemotional and unrevealing as a shark's, but they were set forward in the sluglike head. And conventional Darwinian reasoning said that the main purpose for such placement was pursuit-the Invid were predators.
Just like Humans.
Rick had yielded the floor to the astounded sci/tech squads from SDF-3 who had come in answer to his call, to evaluate Tesla and try to gain some kind of understanding of the bizarre turn the whole mission had taken.
Rick had a towel around his shoulders, wiping his forehead from time to time; he suddenly realized that Veidt was hovering near.
Wasn't he on the other side of the compartment a second ago? Oh, well. "Ah, Lord Veidt-"
"'Veidt' will suffice," the being corrected.
"Okay, okay, 'Veidt,' then: I guess we need to know first things first. You Sentinels aren't so much in a shooting war with the Invid as trying to put together an uprising, right?"
Veidt hesitated, and Rick threw the towel to the deck. Some of his blood was drying on it, scarlet going to rust-red. "Let's save fine distinctions for later! Am I right or am I wrong?"
"You are right," Veidt said as he and Rick and the Sentinels watched the Human sci/tech teams push and shove each other to get closer to Tesla. "Once, the Invid and the Zentraedi savaged this entire part of the galaxy, fighting their war. With the collapse of that struggle, contact with all the outlying stellar systems has been lost."
"Now, the war has boiled down to the few habitable planets in this close stellar group: Tirol, Optera, Haydon IV, Geruda, and the rest. The ability-and perhaps the will-to venture out into the horrible aftermath of the great Invid-Zentraedi wars has been lost, Admiral."
"But, as I have said, you're right. The worlds unlucky enough to be here in the 'close stars'-accessible with non-Protoculture superluminal drives-are still under the Invid heel. Yet, time and history and the Shapings of the Protoculture have their own rhythm, Admiral. And while the…slavery!..we've suffered, the cruelty and mistreatment, may not be high on your Earthly agenda, the war to free the Near Planets is the thing that unites the Sentinels in a blood oath."
Veidt was quivering like a tuning fork; Rick had thought him robotic and cold, but he now saw passion in his face. "We were in cages. Do you know what that's like, young Admiral? To be caged like an animal?"