"The Tecton makes them," said Jarmi bitterly. "And only the Tecton. Ostensibly to excavate unpopulated rain forest, and to control concentrations of killer tribes in the South Continent mountains. Actually, they were developed for use against us."
"Let's not argue politics," said Laneff, and stopped, suddenly aware of a wisp of nageric static. Jarmi was between Azevedo and Laneff, with nothing but night blackness to Laneff’s right. She turned now toward that blackness, scrambling along the branch-matted, blood-and-flesh-strewn ridge, zlinning intently. Azevedo followed, and Laneff said, "It's Yuan!"
"I don't– Yes! You do have remarkable sensitivity!" He turned to Jarmi. "Go tell everyone to stay there!"
He led the way toward the Gen, who was obviously unconscious and injured. On the level, they fought through rows of old grapevines. The darkness was nearly absolute, but the two Simes went unerringly to the lone Gen.
Azevedo turned the body over gently. "If I hadn't just taken transfer from him, his nager would have been strong enough for us to find him sooner!"
"If you hadn't taken that transfer," countered Laneff, "you'd be in no shape to help us now."
Azevedo ignored that. "He's going to live, Laneff. It's only some internal bleeding." A heavy section of fencing had fallen across Yuan's midsection as he lay supine, and a shower of large stones had followed. As they lifted off the last section offence, they found a small box clutched in Yuan's hands. His grip tightened as he began to moan.
"Take his ankles, Laneff," ordered Azevedo. "We'll get him back to the others, and Desha will work with me to heal him."
As they reached the upslope into the crater, willing Sime hands helped them. Before long, they had Yuan stretched out on the bit of level ground at the bottom of the crater. False dawn had begun to pale the horizon. The sounds of fighting were dying away, and fewer aircraft roared overhead. The three Gen prisoners were conscious now, guarded by two Simes.
Enough burning wreckage had fallen that Laneff wondered if any of the Distect fliers had escaped loaded with refugees.
Azevedo and Desha had barely begun to work over the Gen when Yuan fought to consciousness, mumbling, and then asking clearly, "Is everyone out yet?"
But it was obvious he didn't know what he was saying. A moment later, he glanced about, "What's this? What happened?"
Azevedo was concentrating, wrapped around in some channel's working mode that warped the selyn fields. Desha was kneeling behind the channel, her hands on his shoulders, her eyes closed, assisting him with all she had. Shanlun moved to kneel beside Yuan. In terse sentences, he explained how they'd come here.
"Then," concluded Yuan, "they've closed every exit. Most of their own forces are trapped down there, too—but then they signed on for suicide. My people didn't." His fingers began to fumble at the box, raising the lid. "What time is it?" Laneff told him, and he said, "That's twice the time it takes to evacuate the whole installation. Still—"
A roar cut him off, and he demanded, "What's happening?"
One of the gypsy Simes called down from the ridge, "They're landing planes. One just—" A fulsome explosion wiped out the words, and then the Sime finished, "landed in a bomb crater. Two more made it down—three—four. I think that's all—but they're fielding squads of men now." He turned toward them. "It can't be much longer until the Tecton shows up in force. We're not that far from a major city!"
"I've got to get up there!" said Yuan, struggling to move. But Shanlun held him down. "Azevedo is working on you. You'll bleed to death; besides, you're too weak."
Yuan subsided, but he called, "Tell me when the last of those men is offloaded. Are any headed this way?"
"Not yet," answered the lookout.
Jarmi, Laneff noticed, was clinging to Laneff’s side. She put an arm around the Gen woman, knowing that the box Yuan carried must be the trigger for the hidden destruct charges. And some of the trapped must be Jarmi's friends.
Hidden as Yuan was in the cocoon of Azevedo's field, Laneff couldn't zlin him. But in the growing light, his face showed just what she imagined he must feel.
The lookout called softly, "That's it. They're fanning out—searching I guess for survivors."
With the planes down and the explosions stopped, there was a huge ringing silence. Then the crack of a rifle. The other gypsy Sime joined the lookout, calling incredulously, "They're murdering the survivors!"
"Yes," said Yuan, "their own as well as ours! The filthy lorshes!" There were tears dripping unheeded from the corners of his eyes. A horrible grimace distorted his features, much like that of a Sime in killmode, and with a lurid curse, he rammed his finger home on the button set into the open box he held.
Azevedo flinched, his hands nearly coming up to protect his face before he recovered himself. Shanlun scrambled to his side, displacing Desha roughly, shrouding Azevedo in a brilliant shell of bright fluorescent confetti.
A distant rumbling waxed to a ground-rippling shudder. All eyes flicked about the crater looking for safety and finding none. The roar gathered and the ground heaved, then settled with a long, grinding noise.
Gen deathflash was lacing the nager like lightning, and every Sime sought the nearest Gen. Laneff clutched her throat to throttle her own scream and held on to Jarmi, hardly able to zlin the Gen's field even at contact for the blasting overload all about them.
Jarmi whimpered, unable to breathe in Laneff’s grip. In the abrupt silence, nerves battered to insensibility, Laneff heard Jarmi's plea, and her heart melted. "I'm sorry! Oh, please, Jarmi, forgive me!" At that moment, this Gen was the most precious thing in the universe.
Catching her breath, Jarmi replied, "It's nothing. I just hope you'll learn your own strength someday!"
Meanwhile, Desha and the other gypsy Gen had joined the two Simes on the ridge. As her senses cleared, Laneff climbed the slope, Jarmi right after her.
The dawn light showed churned and puckered fields where neat, knee-high rows of crops had been. The vineyard was flattened. There was no sign of the farmhouse. Tangles of wreckage smoldered. In the distance, an irrigation pipe had broken and was spewing water into the air, spread by the light breeze into a mist. Nagerically, the entire field of pulverized and cratered mud was dead. But as they watched, the first rays of the sun struck through a slit in the clouds, and a rainbow arced over the grisly destruction.
Tears blurring her vision, Laneff turned to those below, but they required no report. Azevedo gripped Shanlun's shoulders once, hard, and then raised his face to the sky. The two rose and faced the rising sun.
As if by some unspoken signal, the four gypsies around Laneff and Jarmi also rose, facing east. The silence of the dead fields seemed to be dispelled by an even larger silence—the silence of living Sime and Gen nager, pulsing with life in clear concert.
It was only an instant, but the gypsies held them all breathless. Afterward, Laneff felt normality return, but now the horror was dispelled. Laneff went back down to Shanlun and Azevedo. Yuan had lapsed into unconsciousness. The others gathered around.
To Shanlun, Laneff whispered, "You call that prayer?"
"No," he answered. "Just a salutation."
Azevedo said, "We must move swiftly now. We'll require a litter for Yuan."
One of the Distect Simes said, "We can't afford to drag these three along, too."