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Next to the position of Family Leader, the post of top Warrior is of primary significance. During a crisis, the top Warrior is empowered by our Founder’s directive to assume command of the Family. Our survival depends on the person holding the post. I have an obligation to the Family to pick the very best Warrior as head Warrior, and from an overall perspective you are the best Warrior.”

“But…” Blade began.

Plato held up his right hand, cutting the Warrior off. “Hear me out, please.” He paused. “All of the Elders are in agreement on this. You are the best Warrior, and we wish to retain you as head of your order. Our problem was to discover a satisfactory means of having you continue to head the Warriors while simultaneously fulfilling your commitment to the Force. We believe we have discovered a way.”

“How? Saw me in half?” Blade quipped.

“If we could, we would,” Plato rejoined, chuckling. “I even considered cloning, but I lack the scientific equipment necessary.”

“Cloning? What’s cloning?” Blade queried.

“A technique developed before the war, enabling the scientists to produce duplicates of living organisms,” Plato answered.

“They could make copies of people?” Blade asked in disbelief.

Plato nodded. “The procedure was perfected within a year of the war.

But I digress. The Elders have a proposal to make, a way in which you can remain as head Warrior and serve on the Force. The solution is quite simple. As you know, the Federation has established a weekly shuttle service. Since all long-distance telecommunications systems were destroyed during the war, and since none of the Federation factions possess broadcast facilities capable of linking us on a regular basis, Governor Melnick has kindly offered the use of the VTOLs. When they are not on a mission for the Force, the Hurricanes will run weekly shuttles between the Federation members, carrying correspondence and important dispatches.” He looked at Blade. “We want you to return to the Home on one of the shuttles a minimum of once a month.”

“And what about my responsibilities with the Force?” Blade questioned.

“Spending a few days each month at the Home will not interfere with your duties in California,” Plato said. “I realize the prospect of flying back here periodically might not appeal to you, but I assure you there is a method to our madness. By having you return regularly, we can justify retaining you as the head Warrior.” He paused and glanced around, insuring they were alone. “Such an arrangement would immensely benefit me. I will not be under any pressure to select a permanent successor acceptable to all the Elders. True, the choice is mine, but I want to avoid antagonizing any of the Elders if possible. A temporary replacement can be chosen, someone to fill in while you are in California, someone who might, perhaps, succeed you should you eventually opt to stay in California. But in the interim, I will be able to groom your successor, to mold him to acceptably fill the post.” He reached up and placed his right hand on Blade’s left shoulder. “You will be doing me a personal favor if you agree to this arrangement.”

Blade pursed his lips, then sighed. “If you put it that way…”

Plato brightened. “You agree?”

“I won’t do anything to jeopardize the Family,” Blade stated. “I know how important the job of top Warrior is, and if you need time to pick someone to replace me, I’ll do whatever you want to buy you the time you need.”

Plato squeezed the giant’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“So what did you mean before?” Blade asked. “About assisting me in deciding which Warriors to take to Seattle?”

Plato lowered his right arm. “You know all of the Warriors better than I do, their personal strengths and weaknesses. So I have a suggestion to make. Why don’t you take the three most eligible candidates with you, the three you consider as best suited to follow in your footsteps? This trip to Seattle promises to be fraught with danger, and could serve as an excellent testing ground for the three you select. Evaluate their performances and report to me after you return. I will accept your recommendation without reservation, and I will subsequently prepare your nominee to ultimately become the chief Warrior. What do you think of the idea?”

“I don’t know,” Blade said uncertainly.

“What’s wrong?” Plato queried.

“Do you expect me to tell the three I pick the reason I picked them?”

“No,” Plato replied.

“I don’t like deceiving my fellow Warriors,” Blade noted.

“This is not a case of deceit,” Plato countered. “Informing them they are undergoing a test would defeat our purpose. They might act differently than they normally would if they knew their behavior was being monitored. Simply conduct business as usual and judge them accordingly.”

Blade stared at Plato. “Why is it I get the feeling you’re just passing the buck?”

Plato grinned. “A wise leader knows when to delegate authority.”

“I wish I had someone to delegate this to,” Blade muttered.

“Which three Warriors will you take?” Plato inquired.

“I have to give it some thought,” Blade responded.

“There’s no rush,” Plato commented wryly. “You’re not departing until tomorrow.”

Blade shook his head. “And I thought Hickok has a warped sense of humor!”

Chapter Three

He was seated in the lotus position on a low knoll situated in the northeast quadrant of the Home, his back straight, his hands draped loosely on his knees, his eyes closed. Baggy black pants and a black shirt, both fabricated by the Family Weavers, covered his small, wiry frame. His Oriental features were crowned by black hair. Lying on the ground in front of him was a long black scabbard.

Blade slowly approached the man in black, reluctant to intrude on the other’s meditation. He walked to within eight feet of the diminutive figure and halted, waiting.

The man spoke without bothering to open his eyes. “I heard the jet arrive earlier. Please forgive my failure to welcome you. I was communing with the Spirit.”

“I understand, Rikki,” Blade said.

The Warrior known as Rikki-Tikki-Tavi opened his brown eyes. “Why have you sought me out? I’m not due on guard duty for several hours yet.”

Blade moved closer. “I know. But there is something important I must talk to you about.”

“What does it concern?” Rikki casually inquired.

“I’m leaving in the morning for Seattle,” Blade detailed. “There are some people there in trouble.”

“I will go,” Rikki stated.

“How did you know I was going to ask you to go?” Blade questioned.

“How do the plants know the wind will bring rain?” Rikki responded enigmatically.

Blade smiled. “You and your Zen.”

“Zen is not mine,” Rikki said softly. “Zen is… Zen.”

“All paths lead to the Spirit,” Blade noted, quoting one of the Family Elders.

Rikki nodded. “And how many paths lead to Seattle? How many are going with you?”

“Three,” Blade replied.

“May I ask which ones?”

“I don’t know yet,” Blade answered. “This run to Seattle is strictly a volunteer affair. It’s not official Family business. You can decline if you want.”

“I’ll go,” Rikki reiterated.

“Are you sure you don’t want some time to think about it?” Blade inquired. “We could find ourselves in a real hot spot.”

“Any hotter than St. Louis?” Rikki rejoined.

Blade chuckled, thinking of their harrowing experiences in that city several years ago. “I doubt it. But you never can tell.”

Rikki closed his eyes. “I will go. I’ll be ready to leave at daybreak.”