"We don't want to put you to any trouble, sir," said Adjani.
"Oh, no trouble. I am only sorry I do not have beds to offer you; they are all full. But follow me-I will find something."
He turned and led them across the courtyard toward the main building of the complex. Their steps echoed faintly on the stone walk. They moved cautiously, peering into the sky for the dreaded shapes. But the sky was clear and bright and the moon fair. Not a sign of the demons could be seen.
24
…
KVALNIKOV LOWERED HIMSELF CAREFULLY through the man-sized hole in the lower deck beneath the docking bay staging area. The hole was made for more standard-sized spacemen, not Russian giants, and Kalnikov was a husky giant at that, so he had to squeeze his shoulders through carefully in order to keep from getting stuck. Once through, he dropped down a short ladder and made his way through a junction tube to the maintenance room that he and Packer had made their home, war room, and base of operations for the coming revolution.
He entered the room, filled with cylinders and hydraulic hoses and the electronic servo boxes which operated them. Packer sat hunched over a small console at a tiny table in the cramped room, his face green in the reflected light from the screen he stared into.
"How goes it, friend? Progress?"
"Hmph. It's enough that you give me obsolete tools to work with-you expect progress, too?"
"You are getting to be a very disagreeable fellow, Packer. But I don't mind," the Russian said cheerily. Packer looked away from the screen at his companion and noticed a definite change in the man's appearance-he seemed buoyant, full of smiles and winks.
"Have you been drinking?"
"No, I have news."
"What is it?"
"First, you must tell me how you are coming on your little project there."
Packer frowned. In the last several days-or was it weeks?he had not stirred out of their prison. For most of that time he had been sitting before the small screen staring at green phosphorescent blips and scrambled letters and numbers. MIRA was a tough old girl to crack, and he had only the tools of a fourth-form schoolboy to do it with.
They had decided to risk tapping MIRA's data bank to monitor the flow of information between the administration and security offices-between Wermeyer and Ramm. To do that they needed a terminal and a hook-in that would not be noticed when engaged. Kalnikov had scrounged an old manual keyboard model from a dusty corner somewhere and put Packer to work. He had been working constantly ever since.
"I am becoming permanently hunchbacked," said Packer. "That's how I'm coming. As for the project, well, who knows? Tomorrow or maybe the next day. It's too early to tell. MIRA's got a thick shell, tough as armor. And there's only so much this kiddie computer can do." He paused and dismissed the machine with a wave of his hand, and then continued.
"But I've organized fifteen of my best third-year men into teams. We've split the program into five parts and each team is working on a portion of the key. Right now, I'm merely trying to juice up our system here to handle the sneak feed once we're on line."
"Then we are in?"
"Not yet. Soon though. I've been able to worm in using the autohydraulic servo connect lines and I've reversed a couple of them without anyone noticing so far. There may be a red light blinking somewhere that someone may notice, but we'll have to chance it. There's still a way to go yet,"
"When?" asked Kalnikov, crossing his great arms across his wide chest.
"Like I said, soon-tomorrow or the next day. Maybe longer. The problem is that the best program engineers in the world put in state-of-the-art worm traps. Sliding into the data core means outsmarting the traps and that's next to impossible. It would probably be easier to put your ear to the keyhole and listen that way."
The Russian was unimpressed. "It can be done. Anything one man can do, another can undo."
"Thanks for the encouragement."
"But it must be done by tonight."
"What? Now wait a minute-" Packer leaped from his seat and sent his chair crashing backwards to the floor.
"Restrain yourself, please. We need to be on line by tonight.
I have received word through the network that messages have been received this morning."
"Messages from who?"
"It is all in code. We don't know. But the effect has been to increase the effort to find us and to expose the network."
"Oh, great."
"Time is growing short. Something is about to happen and they want us safely out of the way before it does. We need all the advance warning we can get. We must get into MIRA's datafiles and read those signals-and any more that come through."
"They're really upset, huh?" Packer raised his eyes upward.
"They are even sniffling out the ventilation systems-they say there is a chemical leak from sanitation and traces of cyanide were found in the air. It is just an excuse, of course, so people will not become alarmed."
"Then it's only a matter of time before they flush us out of here."
"I am taking care of that. I am in contact with my second-incommand. He is with us. He will either disrupt the search of the docking bay, or he will obstruct it in some way. We don't need to worry yet. Anyway, he will be able to warn us. But about tonight
11
Packer sighed. "I'll do what I can. We're all exhausted. We've been working at this round the clock."
"Do _your best, comrade. Soon your work will be rewarded." Kalnikov turned to leave.
"It's coming down soon, isn't it? How long do we have?"
"Within the next forty-eight hours, perhaps sooner. Take heart, my friend. Soon you will be a free man again." The big pilot stomped off humming a vaguely martial melody.
"Yes," muttered Packer, "one way or another I'll be a free man." Then he returned to his keyboard and tapped in an exhortation to his team of code-cracking worm masters and asked for a progress report. That done, he settled himself back to work once more. …
AUGUST ZANDERSON STOOD IN the dark. Evening had deepened around him as he waited, motionless, like a stone image of a man awaiting the summons that would call it to life.
Nearby he heard the gentle rise and fall of Ari's breathing, sounding like the shallow wash of sea upon the sand heard from afar. Upon returning from her last encounter with Hocking drowsy and incoherent, she had lapsed into a deathlike sleep. Her father had stood over her watching until darkness removed her from his sight. Now he listened to her breathing, clenching and unclenching his fists while alternately cursing and praying for her recovery.
After a while he became aware of voices in the courtyard below. The hushed sounds drifted up through the open balcony doorway. Stirring himself he stepped woodenly onto the balcony to peer into the darkened space below. He heard the rush of feet hurrying away to some other part of the palace and then all was still again.
He turned to go back to his sentinel's post near his daughter and as he did so he glimpsed, black against a lighter sky, the passing of several large, ill-defined shapes winging over the palace toward the lower slopes.
A feeling of dread accompanied the passing of the eerie shapes. Zanderson shivered involuntarily and moved back inside. …
"ALL WE WANT IS a bed for the night," said Spence. "We'll be gone in the morning."
"Please, you may stay as long as you wish. Until you are rested and your friend is able to travel again, do not even think of leaving. You are safe here and most welcome. We are a poor seminary, and our students are poor, but we are rich in the Spirit and a great wealth of grace is ours. What we have we will share with you gladly."