"I need to call Dodds out on the field, too." Lathe fingered the communicator. "Hawking, go over and help Jensen pick the freighter we're going to take. Mordecai, start rounding up the expedition—you know who's going? Good. And if you find Dayle Greene, ask him to step over. He's going to be in charge here while we're gone."
Kwon drifted back to his shadow as Hawking and Mordecai left the autocab. Alone with Lathe, Caine suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable. "Where are we going?" he asked.
"To get your starships, of course."
"Right now?"
Lathe fixed him with a curious gaze. "Certainly. Surely you didn't expect to climb aboard a passenger ship and fly back to Earth as if nothing had happened." He gestured at the cassette reader in Caine's lap. "How's the decoding coming?"
"Slowly. It's a tricky code."
"You know which system yet?"
There was something in Lathe's eyes that Caine didn't like. "Why?" he asked cautiously.
"Because I need to know where we're going before we lift off."
"But we have to go to Earth first and organize a crew."
"Earth is the first place they'll look for us," Lathe explained patiently. "We'll just have to try and pick up a crew in the other system instead. Now which is it?"
Caine pursed his lips. "System M-4. Orion Sector."
"Hmm. Argent's system." Lathe nodded, frowning slightly.
"Is that good or bad?"
"A little of both. A thriving planet—I assume Argent's still thriving—will make it easier to find a crew. On the other hand, Orion Sector runs up to the TDE-Chryselli border, which probably implies a strong Ryqril presence."
"Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good."
"It could be better," Lathe agreed. Raising the communicator, he flipped it on. "Lathe to Dodds. Lathe to Dodds."
A moment later a response came. "Dodds here."
"How's flight prep coming?"
"I just finished. You have the information?"
"Yes—number thirteen on our list. Got that?"
"One-three, right. If you'll clear me with the tower I'll be off. Safe flight to you."
"You too." Lathe tapped a couple more switches. "Lathe to whoever's in the tower."
"Novak here," the answer came promptly. "We were eavesdropping on your last call. What's Dodds doing?"
"Special assignment," Lathe said curtly. "I want you to shut down the lasers until he's cleared atmosphere."
There was a short silence. "I don't recall Dhonau mentioning this," Novak said.
"He didn't; this is on my authority," Lathe told him.
"I see." A moment passed. "Antiaircraft lasers shut down."
"Good. Call Dodds and tell him we can lift when ready." Shutting off the communicator, Lathe fastened it to his belt and turned to look at the rows of Corsairs.
Caine cleared his throat. "Just what is this mission, Lathe?"
"Later." He nodded at the field. "There he goes."
A diffuse glow was visible now, reflecting faintly from other fighters and the glaze-surface. As Caine watched, a dark bulk rose from the far end of the field, the blue-violet light from its gravs casting strangely colored shadows. Rotating to point eastward, it shot upward with surprising speed until it was almost invisible against the starry background. Then, abruptly, a white star erupted as the main drive kicked in. Arcing across the sky, it was lost to sight within seconds.
Lathe stirred, his left hand seeking his right wrist. "Someone's approaching the 'port," he told Caine. "Security car, the tower says. Mordecai's on his way; I want you to go to the ship with him, where you'll be safe."
"What about you?" Caine asked.
"I'm going to meet the car." He saw the look on Caine's face and added, "I'll be in no danger—this isn't an attack force coming. But your safety's too vital to take even small risks with. Go on."
Reluctantly, Caine got out, watching as Lathe circled back toward the 'port gate. Mordecai appeared at his side and together they set off across the field.
Lathe was waiting by the gate when the Security car rolled to a stop. The driver stepped out, his hands empty and held slightly away from his body. Spotting Lathe, he walked toward him.
It was Prefect Galway.
"I'm alone and unarmed," were his first words. "I'm here for a parley."
"What makes you think we've got anything to talk about?" Lathe asked, quietly putting away the throwing star he'd been palming.
Galway frowned as he studied what he could see of Lathe's face. "Comsquare Lathe, isn't it?" He shook his head ruefully. "Damn, but you had us fooled. I still can't believe what you've done to us."
"It wasn't all that easy, actually," Lathe told him. "You, particularly, have an unceasingly suspicious mind. But you didn't come here just to exchange compliments. What do you want?"
Galway glanced through the gate into the 'port. "Basically, I'm here to offer some advice." He turned back to face the blackcollar. "As a diversion and a lure, the riot you started was brilliant. But don't overdo it."
"What do you mean?" Lathe asked evenly.
"I mean you've got the population at flash point. Everyone in Capstone knows what's happening by now. They're looking at the trouble a few hundred teen-agers are giving us and probably wondering what an uprising by the whole population would do."
"What would it do?"
"Destroy Plinry," Galway said, and Lathe was struck by the intensity in the prefect's voice. "The Ryqril section of the Hub can't be taken—I'm sure you know that. Even if a revolt succeeded in boxing them in, it would last only until the next Ryqril courier showed up. A week after that the Corsairs would come." Galway waved toward the south, where the lights of Capstone were visible. "We haven't even recovered from the last war. How much punitive action do you think we could take?"
"Not much," Lathe admitted. "So what do you want from me?"
"I'd like you to stop the revolt. I'd settle for slowing it down, since you probably aren't interested in stopping it. We can negotiate a deal, if necessary, but bear in mind the kinds of concessions I can make are limited."
Lathe remained silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "No negotiations needed, Galway. We're not out to liberate Plinry—not this time, anyway. Our people will be going underground for a while, but if you don't push them or retaliate against Capstone's people they won't give you any more trouble."
Galway's eyes burned into his. "Your word?"
"I'll give the orders. That's all I can guarantee."
A slight twitch which might have been a smile. "All right. I'll try to keep my people in check, as well. Otherwise, there might not be a world here when you come back." Once more his eyes flicked toward the landing field and the dark ships there. "I'd give my last dose of Idunine to know what you're up to."
"You'll find out some day."
"I'm sure I will," Galway said dryly. Turning, he returned to his car and drove off.
From his vantage point near the lumpy freighter, Caine watched Galway drive away, his mind a tangle of conflicting thoughts. The meeting had been peaceful, even friendly, and the two men had talked for a long time. Why? More importantly, why had Lathe made so sure that there weren't any witnesses to the conversation?
He shook his head, feeling a little silly. Suspicions like that were highly unfair—the meeting had probably been a perfectly aboveboard parley. Still.... Caine became aware of the cassette reader in his hand and, almost unconsciously, gripped it a little tighter. Practically since his arrival the blackcollars had been calling the shots, and even now he was being treated rather like a piece of valuable cargo. But when the final crunch came, it would be Allen Caine who held the ace. And it wasn't a card he would give away lightly... nor to just anyone.
Lathe was coming toward the freighter now. Shifting the reader to his other hand, Caine headed for the ship's cargo hatch. Perhaps the blackcollars would let him help with the loading.