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The three others waited anxiously at the top, and Kat’s eyebrows went up when she saw that he was alone.

“He’ll make it on willpower,” he assured her. “I can tell you, a man like that’s not going to check out by falling down an elevator shaft.”

They looked at the box. It was a plain box of artificial wood, and it had a golden Greek cross on the top and a pure gold clasp. Harker slipped the tiny gold pin over and down, and opened the box. Inside, resting in a soft feltlike lining, each wrapped with a protective bubble seal, were the code modules.

“Oh, my God!” Kat Socolov breathed. For the first time she realized that they had not only gotten what was needed, but that it was almost certain to be used.

About fifteen minutes later, an ashen N’Gana crawled out of the shaft and tumbled down the pile of debris. They rushed to him; he was in awful shape. He was covered with perspiration, and not just his face but his whole body seemed a dull, almost dark gray. Still, after a while, he managed to sit up and look around. When he spied the box, he looked extremely satisfied.

“We did it,” he sighed.

“We did nothing until we can blow the hell out of that satanic fairyland out there,” Harker replied. “We have to feed these in to the mentat and get out of here.”

“Go feed ’em in,” N’Gana gasped. “Then we’ll talk.”

The women tried to make him as comfortable as they could, but it was pretty clear to them and to the others as well that Colonel N’Gana would not be going anywhere anytime soon.

The mentat directed Harker to an old, dust-covered terminal far on the other side of the great factory floor. It didn’t look operational, but carefully he unwrapped each module and, one by one, he inserted them into the slot.

“I have the data. I have no idea what it means, but my counterpart on Hector certainly does. These mathematical algorithms will combine with what is already up there to give precise switching and firing instructions to any and all of the active genhole gates.”

“How soon can you transmit?” Harker asked it.

“I can transmit now. I will not, however. Not without giving you a chance.”

Harker walked back over to them and put the box back on the floor. “Too bad that’s all made of high-tech state-of-the-art synthetics,” he sighed. “Otherwise we could take the extras with us.”

Kat sighed. “Yeah. Where’s Father Chicanis’s communion set when we really need it?”

“I will get the message out,” the computer assured them. “I am not anxious to create the act nor am I looking forward to my own cessation of existence, but you must go, and quickly. Every moment now risks some sort of discovery. I want you well away from here.”

N’Gana shook his head. “I think I’ll just stay and keep you company,” he told the mentat. “It’s important that a commanding officer ensure that the mission is completed.”

“It is not necessary,” the mentat responded, unable to catch subtlety or monitor the physical condition of the colonel.

“Yes, it is. I’m dying anyway. Everybody knows that, even me. If I’m going to go, then I’m damned well going to go in action. The rest of you, get out of here! Now! I have an idea I want to discuss with our new friend here. One that’ll let us do this in style.”

“You’re sure?” Kat asked him.

“Doc, I’ve never been more certain of anything. And I want it quick, since I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to animate this corpse and I’m hungry and thirsty and there’s nothing here for even a lousy last meal, understand?”

“Colonel—” She felt tears welling up inside her.

“Get the hell out of here, Doc. And the rest of you! Few men in my profession get to plot their own glorious demise! Besides,” he added a bit more softly, “I would go absolutely insane stuck here for the next ten years or so. This is one of the dullest worlds I’ve ever known!”

Harker brought himself to attention and saluted. The colonel, reflexively, returned it.

“I, too, am going to remain, with Colonel’s permission,” Hamille croaked, still breathing hard. “I am too tired to go on, and there is nothing for me in this world. I, too, am fighter. My family, my young, are already in the next universe thanks to Titans. I would like to join them.”

N’Gana looked over at the Quadulan. “I’ll be glad for the company, but you might just get picked up.”

“To go where? Not like human people. Very few worlds are Quadulan.”

Harker leaned over and half whispered to Kat, “Let’s get out of here before we all go down in a suicide pact.”

She nodded. There wasn’t much more to say, and she realized that the strange alien who’d done the job the humans could not had never intended a different fate.

The mentat had no comment on the other two, but did step in now. “Mister Harker, you and the two women should leave at once. The boy must stay.”

They all froze. “What?” Kat asked in an acid tone. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“At heart, all minds, all brains, whether artificial or naturally grown, are calculating machines,” the mentat noted. “I can do some calculations better than any human. I can tell you the exact odds that the one boy who discovered Jastrow’s body far away and who ran from my transmission should be the one who shows up here at this point in time. Unfortunately, you do not have time for all the zeros. You are here by choice. This boy was sent. There is no other explanation. And if you let him leave here, they will know that we have a weapon and where it is and they will move swiftly against us before we can move. The boy stays.”

“What d’ya mean, sent?” Littlefeet snapped. “You can’t guess how hard it was just to stay alive to get this far! You don’t know what we went through!”

“I’ve heard your stories while you’ve been here. I believe I do,” the computer responded. “I am not saying that you are a conscious agent, only that you are a tool. You have all been speculating about how the Titans think, how different they are, how they could never be understood. Don’t you think that, in their own way, the Titans are thinking the same about you? They can experiment with you, they can genetically alter you, they can mess with your minds, but they can only make you more like them or like their models. They don’t understand you as you are. They got an ugly surprise at that transmission of Jastrow’s. It wasn’t supposed to be possible, nor was there supposed to be anyone left who could work it even if one or another device were accidentally left operational. I think they started a hunt to find mentally receptive humans they could use as monitors just in case another Jastrow came along. They couldn’t recognize him—it would take a native human to do that. I think they’ve had some natives they could directly influence all along. Perhaps even the tribal leaders. The priests and nuns and the like. You were finally adopted into their network of control when you climbed the mountain. Why did you climb that mountain, Littlefeet?”

“Huh? I—I dunno. Oh—yeah. Some members of a Family got struck dead. Father Alex sent me. He wanted me to do a complete survey. To go as high as I could stand it.”

“Yes. I doubt if he knew he was being influenced, either, but they ordered him to send one of his flock into the stream and he sent you. Later, they cut off your family, then attacked and scattered it when you were not there. But your one real love somehow gets away and gets right to you. She `heard’ you, she said. And you move south, even though you know that rivers get wider as they near the sea. You certainly know that. You thought you might be able to cross at some point but that defied your knowledge, experience, and logic. They wanted you to find the newcomers, and they even used a Hunter attack to delay them so that you could reach them. Not because they understand what’s going on here, but because they do not. But if you go back out there, you will tell them. You will not even know that you’ll tell them, but your mind is linked to theirs, they can read it out. They won’t understand it, but they will get the record and know that technologically sophisticated humans have landed and risked all for some reason. It does not take a lot to understand that this would be a threat. They will know about me, and this place. You will tell them and you will not know that you tell them. You will tell them in your dreams and visions. That is why you cannot go, Littlefeet. That is why you must remain until the codes are broadcast.”