Everyone on the bridge looked about with amazement.
"We will cooperate, but you must have your ships turn back immediately, or we will be forced to open fire. Over," Runacres replied.
"The recall command has been sent-ah to the interceptors. You will see them terminating attack momentarily," Kateos replied."…over."
Runacres looked at Wells, certain that it was a trick—a trick to hold the fleet in subspace long enough for their interceptors to close.
"Tracks show a slight deflection, Admiral," responded the harried tactical officer.
Runacres stared bullets at the situation plot.
"Course changes are increasing, Admiral. They are reducing forward speed and swinging away!" the tactical officer reported.
Runacres watched hypnotically. He could detect the course changes, evident even on the larger-scale situation plot. Runacres forced out a lungful of metallic-tasting air.
"How do we know this is not a trick, and how did you learn our language?" he asked. "Over." More time than usual passed.
"We do not-ah deserve your trust-ah, Ad-ah.. miral," Kateos finally replied. "I hope that-ah we will demonstrate a more peaceful behavior in the future… so that-ah you will grow to trust-ah us. You are wise to be cautious. The leadership of my planet is experiencing grave challenge. It-ah is our intention to conduct-ah diplomatic communications with you as soon as we stabilize our governmentah. It-ah will take many days. I have been told to inform you that-ah you should not-ah perceive our apparent confusion as a weakness. More interceptors are being prepared. That-ah is what I was told to tell you.
"As far as learning your language," the alien's voice became enthusiastic, "I have had-ah excellent teachers, Nashooa Hudsawn and Sharl B-Bru…B-Buu…shar…B-Bruusharry. It is difficult for us to say. Lieutenant Sharl is the leader of humans on this planet.. Over."
Runacres recognized the names of the corvette officers and looked worriedly at Cassy Quinn. Buccari in command meant in all likelihood that Jack Quinn was dead. The distraught officer stared at her feet, a constellation of tears floating about her face. She straightened and dispersed the water globules with the back of her hand. She looked at Runacres and smiled bravely.
"Those names are important to us," Runacres continued. "We are anxious to recover our missing crew. What can you tell us of their condition? Are they safe? Over."
"Their condition is unknown, although we have reason to be concerned-ah." The alien's voice became serious. "A military party is attempting to capture them. That party is led by an officer swearing allegiance to the same leaders that-ah conducted the attacks against-ah your fleet. It-ah is likely they are in danger. Over."
"What can be done to help them? Over."
"Very little," Kateos responded. "We are sending numerous messages to the soldiers, but they refuse to acknowledge receipt of orders."
Runacres stared at the situation plot. The enemy tracks were clearly reversing.
"Scientist Kateos, please notify your government of our gratitude for halting hostilities. I look forward to establishing peaceful relations with your race. But I would also ask your government to permit us to send ships to the third planet, so that I may provide assistance to our people. You have indicated they may be in danger. I cannot sit here and not help them. Over."
Static-filled seconds crept by.
"I will relay these concerns to my government-ah," Kateos finally replied. "However, I cannot authorize the request. Please wait. Over."
"We wait for your next transmission. Please hurry. And thank you." Runacres turned to look at his bridge crew.
"Group leader, get all corvettes back on board! Let's get this fleet in shape. We have time to get everyone in the grid. And I want three corvettes ready to go back to that planet. Commander Quinn, you're in charge of the landing party."
Chapter 43. Final Battle
MacArthur leaned against a tree trunk, seeking relief from the chill wind. It had been an arduous hike back down to the valley floor. Clouds scudded overhead, and desultory rain drops, heavy and frigid, plopped on the ground as gray-shrouded dusk descended on the valley. Most of the humans lay on the ground, wrapped in their ponchos, trying to sleep. Their number had been augmented by Tatum, Mendoza, and Schmidt, offsetting the absence of the injured Gordon, who had been left behind at High Camp. Fenstermacher had wanted to join the fighters, but Buccari ordered him to stay behind with Wilson and Tookmanian, to take care of the women and children. Buccari had also ordered Et Silmarn to remain behind. The konish scientist was their last best hope of establishing friendly relations; he could explain to konish authorities why earthlings were attacking and killing kones.
"Why can't we just hole up?" Petit whined. "They'll never find us."
MacArthur wanted to shout, but Shannon, still in pain, beat him to it. "Shut up, Petit!"
"Easy, Sarge!" Buccari sighed. She walked over to Petit. "Petit, if you want to go back, go. I won't ask you to join us if you're afraid."
The powerfully built man looked at the ground and shuffled his feet.
"We're committed," she continued, eyes flashing in the dim light. "We're almost out of ammo. Now's the time to capture weapons—to take charge of the situation. Now's the time to do what Tatum and Sergeant Shannon wanted to do all along. Et Silmarn says these are the only soldiers on the planet. It will take them months to get reinforcements. You've seen these guys in action. We can take them down, and if we capture the landers, we get our hands on more weapons, and on a radio. Do you understand? We can defend ourselves, and we can call in the fleet. We may never get another chance."
Petit nodded. "Yeah, Lieutenant. I'm sorry, sir," he mumbled.
Buccari slapped his shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile, her scarred face disturbingly powerful in the murky light.
MacArthur moved away from the somber cluster. He trudged up the heavily wooded rise shielding their campsite from the aliens. Tatum stood watch at the crest. MacArthur crawled on the wet ground until he lay by Tatum' s side. The two Marines peered through the damp dusk, looking down on the four evenly dispersed landers.
"How's it going, Sandy?" MacArthur asked.
"Just frigging wonderful, Mac," Tatum sniffed. Drops of rainwater fell from his cap brim. "Beats baby-sitting. I was beginning to think Lieutenant Buccari didn't trust me." He rolled onto an elbow and spat.
"She trusts you, Sandy. She wanted you here. She told me so herself."
Tatum looked at MacArthur. "No kidding? She said that?" "As sure as I am laying here in the mud," MacArthur replied. "She's something else, ain't she?"
MacArthur nodded.
Soft whistles floated into his awareness. MacArthur responded with two chirps, and Tonto hopped from the wet darkness. Tonto was not alone; six other hunters, including Captain and X.O., followed him up the valley slope. MacArthur' s spirits rose; they had reinforcements, too!
"Colonel, we have received orders from Planetary Defense Command to recover the landers and return to Kon. We are specifically directed to break contact with the aliens." The subordinate, on all four legs, stood at rigid attention Longo sat in his acceleration chair in the relative warmth of the landing module. Emperor-General Gorruk's removal from power was disturbing, but one objective continued to dominate his reasoning: the secret of the alien's interstellar power drives. If he could but gain that knowledge, his grasp on power would be secure. But how?