Somewhere in the boiling mob were the M'lan. Sten thought it very possible that one or another of the Fal'ici might just turn away from the gold for a chance to slip a couple of centimeters of polished glass into a trooper's throat.
He slowed to a walk, pulled his robe down, and casually strolled on. Tossed a flower vendor a coin, and pulled the biggest flower on her cart off. Shoved his nose into it, and minced onward.
How…epi? Epi…clot it! He'd ask Doc when he got back to the cover house.
Sten took an hour to make sure he wasn't tailed. He didn't think much of the Q'riya's intelligence squads, but there were more than enough of them to run a successful multitail operation.
He was clean, so he walked quickly up to the gate of the unobtrusive house the Mantis Section team was working out of and went in.
To more chaos. Gear was going into packs neatly, but very, very quickly. Alex stood near the door, holding a breakdown willygun ready. Sten took it all in.
"We're blown?" Sten guessed.
"Aye, laddie," Alex said. " Th' dark Vinnettsa's been tryin' t' convince she's got buttons down her back wae taken."
"And talked?"
"Wouldna you? Word is they could make a tombstone confess."
"Somebody took H'mid's head off and left it for me to find," Sten said. He crossed to a table and picked up a glass winer. Thumb over the cover, he eased the spout into his mouth and swallowed. After he'd set it down, he looked at the half-meter teddy bear sitting at ease in the room's only comfortable chair. The creature bore a near-benevolent scowl on his face.
"Doc?"
"Typical humans," the teddy bear purred happily. "You people could clot up a rock fight. Proof of the existence of divinity, I take it. You would still be in your jungles peeling fruit with your toes if there weren't a God of some sort or another. One with a rather nasty sense of humor, I might add."
Vinnettsa hurried down the stairs coiling wire to the broadcast antenna on the roof.
"Come on, Doc. We don't have time for making love."
Doc held his hands out in what he had learned was a human gesture, jumped off the chair, and began stuffing the hookup into a lift pack.
Ida came unhurriedly out from the closet that concealed the entrance to the comroom. Hefted her compack experimentally. "Doc's right. You can't expect subtlety from anything other than us. Now, why they don't field an all-Rom team—"
Alex chuckled. "For our Emp'rer whidny like havin' a worl' stole from under him, is why."
Ida thought. "If we did steal it—and that's a thought worthy of a Rom—then he wouldn't have to worry, would he?"
Sten looked around. Frick and Frack hung from the room's eaves, waiting.
"Do they have us spotted?"
"Negative," Frick squeaked. "We overflew ten minutes ago. We saw nothing."
Maybe. The two batlike beings weren't high on anyone's intelligence list. Or maybe Sten hadn't worded the question correctly. But the information was probably correct.
The team was ready to roll. They huddled.
"We ken we're blown," Alex said softly. "D'ye think we redline an' evac?"
Jorgensen yawned. He was sprawled beside his pack, stocked pistol ready.
"Y'all sure we want to just pull pitch? Mahoney'll torch our tail for an incomp."
Sten looked at Doc, who wiggled tendrils.
"Myitkina," Sten said. It was Jorgensen's trance word. The rangy blonde sat immobile.
"Possibilities," Vinnettsa snapped.
"A. Mission abort and withdrawal. B. Continue mission and assume nondiscovery. C. Begin alternate program."
"Analyze it," Sten said.
"Possibility A. Mission priority high. Currently incomplete. Consider as last resort. Survival probability ninety percent if accomplished within five hours."
"Continue," Vinnettsa said.
"Possibility B. Insufficient data to give absolute prediction. Assumption that local agent broke under interrogation. Not recommended. Survival probability less than twenty percent."
The team members looked at each other. Voting silently. As usual, no one bothered to consult Frick and Frack.
"Two Myitkina." Jorgensen came out of the trance.
"What's the plan?" he asked.
"Mobs ‘n heroes," Alex said.
"That ain't too bad," Jorgensen said. "All I gotta do is run a lot."
Sten snorted. Alex clapped him on the back, a friendly gesture that almost drove Sten through the wall. Sometimes the tubby little man from the three-gee world forgot.
Sten wheezed air back into his lungs.
"Sten, you're a braw lad. A' they say, the bleatin' o' the kid frees the tiger. Or some'at like that."
Sten glumly nodded and started shedding weaponry.
The assassin watched him from across the room. It would have to wait for a while. For better or worse, the assassin's future rode on the team's successes. For a while.
M-PRIORITY OPERATION BANZI
Do not log in Guard General Orders; do not log in Imperial Archives; do not multex any than source and OC Mercury; do not release in any form. IMPERIAL PROSCRIPT.
STEN OPERATIONS ORDER
1. Situation:
Saxon. Plus-or-minus well within Earth-condition parameters. Largely desert. Extensive nomadic culture (SEE FICHE A), predominant. Only port, major city and manufacturing complex Atlan (SEE FICHE B), situated in one of Saxon's few fertile valleys. Existence of large river and introduction of hydropower responsible for growth of Atlan. Atlan, and therefore Saxon's offworld policies, controlled by an extended tribe-family, the Q'riya (SEE FICHE C), believed to be an offshoot of main bedou culture Fal'ici. Manufacturing and all offworld trading controlled by Q'riya. In Atlan, their authority is enforced by the probably created semihereditary group known as the M'lan (SEE FICHE D). Q'riya authority does not extend beyond Atlan's limits, and semianarchy exists among the nomad tribes. Atlan's main export is weaponry, largely created by the introduction of major machinery by
DELETED…DELETED…DELETED. Some primitive art, generally lowly regarded, also transshipped.
2. Mission:
To prevent offworld shipment of currently produced arms and, if possible, to significantly reduce or destroy that production capability.
3. Execution:
The team-in-place shall exercise the option of how the mission is to be carried out, hopefully by political means but, if necessary, mililarily. Factors—this must not be attributed to an Imperial Mission. All extremes shall be taken to prevent evidence of Imperial involvement. Reiterate: All extremes (SEE ATTACHED, MISSION EQUIPMENT). Mission limitations: preference casualty rate among Fal'ici to be kept as low as possible. Continued existence of Q'riya in present position not significant. Alteration of existing social order not significant.
4. Coordination:
Little support can be given, due to the obvious conditions of OPERATION BANZI (see above), beyond standard evacuation deployment, which shall consist of…
5. Command & Signaclass="underline"
OPERATION BANZI will be under the direct control of Code, Mantis Team operating under code schedule…
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE GUARDS NEATLY lofted Sten into the cell's blackness. He thunked down on an uncomplaining body. Sten rolled off and started to apologize, then sniffed the air. About three days beyond listening, he estimated.