“No one who’s in the middle of a war likes it, Bayta,” I said, gently stroking the back of her neck. “But it’ll be over soon.”
She shivered. “Or at least, our part will be.”
I swallowed. “Yes,” I agreed. “It will.”
* * *
We were standing on the platform, waiting while Morse used his EuroUnion Security Service badge to persuade Savali to let us leave the station, when I saw the scrawny Filly from our ill-fated train emerge from the message center. I watched as he turned his back on us and headed toward one of the trains heading toward the Bellidosh Estates-General.
The message I’d sent Riijkhan had gotten through.
And with that, the last of my cards had been played. All that was left was to play out the hand, and see how those cards stacked up against everyone else’s.
To see whether we would live or die.
Across the platform, the Shonkla-raa agent boarded his train. Distantly, I wondered if I’d ever see him again.
THIRTY
The torchyacht trip to Earth was as fast and secure as Hardin had promised it would be. We held endless discussions about strategy and tactics, but what impressed me most was that Hardin’s cuisine was the best I’d tasted since we’d left Ambassador ChoDar’s Peerage car back at Venidra Carvo.
We landed at Hardin’s private spaceport on Long Island late at night, where by prearrangement a heavier than usual contingent of his security force was waiting to meet us. There we said our last farewells to Terese before she, Rebekah, Morse, and a security team left on one of Hardin’s air transports to take her on the last leg of her long and tangled journey home.
Even now, after all we’d been through together, she wouldn’t talk to Bayta or me about her home and family, or even where home actually was. But I didn’t press the point. For one thing, I figured she’d earned a little respect, which for her translated into whatever bits of privacy she could scrape together.
For another, I already knew who and where her family was.
The rest of us boarded another transport and headed in the opposite direction to Hardin’s western Idaho estate, where his main security force training center was also located. The two hundred men and women McMicking had requested were already assembled, and after a short night’s sleep we got to work.
Eight weeks later, we were ready.
* * *
“The teams will leave on the schedule you’ve been given,” McMicking said to the group on our final evening. “Once you reach the Tube, each group of twenty riding on a particular Quadrail will split into pairs. Let me remind you that while you’ll all be in the same car or two, each traveling pair is to remain strictly detached from all the others except in a declared emergency situation. Any such declaration will be made by squad leaders, who will determine the proper response and how much pair interaction will be required. Clear?”
Two hundred heads bobbed in silent acknowledgment. “ESS Agent Morse will be going out with the first team,” McMicking continued. “He and his team will collect the gear and weapons, which will be shipped separately to the Veerstu transfer station. They’ll proceed to the Proteus jump-off point, assess conditions, and bring in the other teams as they arrive. Once you’re all assembled, he’ll guide you to the actual target area.”
He gestured to Bayta and me. “Given the enemy attention we’re expecting Compton to draw along the way, he, Bayta, and I will be the last three to arrive, hopefully several hours after the rest of you are in position. If all goes well, we should be assembled, on the ground, and ready to move thirty-eight and a half days from now. Questions?”
This time, none of the heads moved. “All right,” McMicking said, turning to me. “Any last words of wisdom, Compton?”
“Just don’t try to take over your torchliners,” I said. “Everyone knows what rotten passengers pilots make.” It was a poor joke, but a few of them smiled politely anyway. “Aside from that, watch yourselves, remember that the Shonkla-raa have non-Shonkla-raa agents who can be almost as troublesome as they are, and keep in mind that Mr. Hardin’s tech people went to a lot of trouble creating your weapons and equipment. Treat it carefully and use it well.”
“The first transport leaves at oh-three-thirty tomorrow,” McMicking said. “Good luck, and we’ll see you on Veerstu. Dismissed.”
With a rustling of cloth and a muted clattering of chairs the men and women stood up and filed silently from the room. “Well, that’s that,” McMicking said as we watched them leave. “Any recent word from Riijkhan? I haven’t had time to check the message log lately.”
“I got one yesterday,” I told him. “I’d mentioned in my last note that I was concerned about the mobs that would come after me if I helped them take over the galaxy, so he’s now upped his offer to immunity for the Confederation and a personal fiefdom for me anywhere in the galaxy I’d like.”
“Thoughtful of him,” McMicking said. “You have any particular place in mind?”
“I was thinking about Modhra II,” I said. “Nice view, out of the way of the average mob, and there’s all that under-ice scuba diving available for recreation.”
“And maybe a little Modhran coral still left?”
“Could be,” I said. “This particular message came from Jurskala, by the way, so he’s apparently been traveling again.”
“Interesting,” McMicking said thoughtfully. “I wonder what he’s doing there.”
“Probably looking to build himself an entourage,” I said. “He’s still pressing for me to let him come to Earth for a face-to-face, and he’s certainly not going to find a preassembled army of walkers here that he can use.”
“Maybe you should tell him that Terese and Rebekah have gone off to Bellis or Misfar or somewhere,” McMicking suggested. “See if he’s still so hot to come to Earth if they’re not here.”
“No good—he’d know I’m lying,” I said. “He’s bound to have a permanent spy nest in Terra Station by now.”
“Maybe,” McMicking said. “Speaking of Rebekah and Terese, what’s the word on them?”
“I talked to Rebekah this morning,” Bayta said. “Terese’s father is still very upset that Dr. Aronobal reneged on her promise to heal Terese’s genetic disorders. Rebekah heard him tell his chief medical director yesterday that he’s never working with Filiaelians again.”
“I suppose we can count that as a small victory,” McMicking said. “But there are others out there with a handle on that kind of treatment. Maybe he can find someone else who can fix her.”
“He is trying to interest a Shorshic team in the project.” Bayta hesitated. “The big question right now is whether she’s healthy enough to bring the baby to term. Rebekah said that, under the circumstances, he’s now pressuring her to end the pregnancy.”
I thought back to Terese’s attempt, back on Venidra Carvo, to do just that. “What are Terese’s thoughts?”
“It’s strange,” Bayta said. “Three months ago, she would have jumped at the offer. But now, she’s not so sure. The baby’s moving and kicking, and all. And she’s got Rebekah there, who also has another life inside her.”
McMicking grunted. “Not exactly the same thing.”
“I know,” Bayta said. “But from Terese’s point of view it makes them almost kindred spirits. She trusts Rebekah, I think more than she trusts anyone else in the world.”
“Considering her opinion of all the rest of us, that wouldn’t be very hard,” I said.
“Don’t be cynical,” Bayta reproved me mildly. “In fact, Rebekah said Terese did ask about us the other day. Both of us. Rebekah told her we were still busy training Mr. Hardin’s team, but that we would come see her as soon as we were able. She does like us, Frank.”