Subtwo moved slowly, gazing about. In the center of a square marked by missiles at its corners, he halted. His gaze moved slowly from the base to the tip of one of the graduated shafts, pausing at the symbols on its sides, hesitating at its summit. Then he spun, around and around, eyes wide open and head straight, with no attempt to avoid dizziness.
"He can't be thinking he could use them." Jan's voice was low and taut with disgust.
Subtwo stopped his solitary dance. It did not seem to have affected him, for he walked without a stumble to one of the missiles, and reached out hesitantly, gently, to touch its metal flank.
"Subtwo!"
Jan started, gasping, and grabbed her arm. Her hoarse voice reverberated, each echo more distorted than the last.
Subtwo jerked himself around, laser lance ready, but he could not find his quarry. "Who is it?"
"It's me and Jan Hikaru, of course," Mischa said. "Who did you think?"
"Ah," he sighed, and Mischa thought, but could not be certain, that the sound meant an instant's regret. If it did, the instant passed, and the regret with it, leaving only rigid anger. The muzzle of the lance wavered back and forth, searching.
"I don't want to kill you," Mischa said. "All I ever wanted was to get away from here. Before Subone—"
"There is only him and me," Subtwo said.
"But it's all one-way. It's always you doing what he wants."
Subtwo hesitated, and when he spoke was betrayed by the abrupt belligerence of his tone. "Come out! I refuse to speak to shadows."
"Throw away your weapon."
Subtwo laughed.
"It's useless," Jan said. "You can't take the chance of using it here."
Subtwo's good humor did not lessen. "Ah, generalists," he said. "You know a little about everything, but not enough about anything. Do you think I could trigger a fusion reaction with a pocket laser?"
"You could break the case of the fission trigger," Jan said. "These are bombs, not generators. Old ones. Dirty ones."
Subtwo lowered the lance and backed away from the nearest missile. Knowing approximately how the bombs worked, Mischa saw he was afraid of stray radiation, though the triggers might be too many half-lives old even
to explode.
"I haven't got any quarrel with you," Mischa said again. "Why do you always have to fight for Subone? Where's he?"
"You should know. You attacked him."
"I hardly scratched him—that was weeks ago."
Subtwo's expression changed to a strange kind of uncertain pity. "Your mind is disarranged," he said. "You and your friends attacked and wounded him yesterday, the day before. And killed one of our people."
Mischa glanced at Jan, who looked as puzzled as she felt. "What's he talking about? He can't mean the looker Crab got."
"I doubt it," Jan said. "Subtwo may prefer machines to people, but he doesn't confuse them."
"Nobody ever attacked anybody down here," Mischa called.
"You lie."
But Mischa felt the uncertainty again. "Maybe it's somebody else who's lying," she said, to see what would happen.
"Stop this. Bring on your freaks. I am prepared to face them."
"Don't call them that!"
"What should I call them?" Subtwo asked, quite sincerely.
"They're people just Like us. They're not here, Subtwo, they hide when anybody from Center comes around. They were gone before you even got close."
"They wounded Subone, and they have killed."
"Don't you ever doubt him? Are you so close you know everything he's thinking all the time?"
"I used to be."
"He lied to you."
"If he lied. he mutilated himself. He murdered."
"He's changed," Jan said. "He's changed, and so have you."
"I will not speak to shadows."
Mischa stepped out of the alcove. Jan tightened his hand on her arm, then let her go, hesitated, and followed her. She walked to Subtwo and looked up at him. "Then speak to my face. Tell me you know he's never lied. Tell me I ever lied to you."
Subtwo looked down. Mischa reached out and drew the pistol away from him. He tightened his grasp on it, lifted his head, meeting her gaze steadily, pleading. Mischa held on, thinking she had miscalculated Subtwo completely, but he did not try to pull back. "You must do one thing," he said. "If you do, I will cooperate in all things. My people will surrender to my order, and no one will oppose you."
She waited in silence.
"You must promise not to kill him."
Mischa scowled. "Why do you keep protecting him?"
"You came to me so you could leave earth. I will take you. No one else can fly you through the storms. Without our ship, Subone will be stranded here. That is. a considerable revenge."
Jan moved up behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Give him that much," he said softly, with pity. "You've got his pride."
This serves his wishes well, she thought. "All right," she said finally. "I won't unless he makes me."
Subtwo released the pistol.
The pseudosib refused to return to Center the way they had come; even threats, Mischa could see, would not change his mind. Having explored the missile base on the other side of Center, she did not take long to find other exits. She thought the one she chose would allow them to pass behind Subtwo's people undetected. She was not very worried about meeting them: she believed they would surrender on Subtwo's order, or, at least, she believed he thought they would. Jan concerned her more, for he had held off his exhaustion much too long. As they reentered the caves and paused to let their eyes adjust to the dimmer light of Jan's flash, Mischa leaned against the clean gray tunnel wall beside him. "You want to stop and rest for a while?"
He smiled. "Sure. But if I stop now I won't move for two days. That's more time than we can take."
"Yeah."
"You're glowing."
"You, too," she said. The lightcells, in their dry form, were faintly luminous. Mischa glanced at Subtwo, who hunched down against the opposite wall, arms wrapped around naked legs, in a posture of abject misery. His skin gleamed softly in reflected light, as though he were oiled; only his hair retained the lightcells' glow.
"A halo on Subtwo just doesn't fit," Jan said. "Let's get going."
Mischa and Jan walked together, supporting each other; Subtwo walked mechanically, staring at the floor except when it was absolutely necessary to raise his head: for difficult trails, chasms, narrow ledges.
They stopped only when they could walk no farther, and then not for long, though when they found a clean stream they paused to bathe: even Subtwo immersed himself in the undistilled, unfiltered water with Mischa, Jan, and the fishes. All during the journey Mischa waited to hear or feel any hint of Subtwo's people, but she was too tired to reach out for them, and the time and distance passed slowly but steadily, until finally they reached the indeterminate region where the underground began to blend into the outer tunnels.
"Jan, look—"
He raised his head, reached up, pushed his hair off his forehead. "What?"
"There." She pointed.
He squinted, turned out the flash, blinked, and finally smiled. "Light-tubes?"
"Yeah." The tubes were blinking and dimming with approaching night, but they signaled the last lap of the journey.
"I wouldn't trade them for some sunlight, but they'll do for now."
They proceeded, but after a short way Mischa thought she could hear faint sounds behind them. She turned half-around. A few steps beyond, Jan halted.
"Listen." They heard, faintly, the echo of a tapping or clattering, very familiar. Then Mischa felt a faint exclamation of greeting and joy. "Crab?" She ran back into the darkness. The beam of Jan's flash lanced past her and picked out Crab's form in starker shadows as he galloped forward, blinking his protruding green eyes. Mischa fell on her knees and hugged him. "Crab, did you run away? What about Val?" But Crab was so excited that his mind was in complete turmoil; she could get no information from him at all. He grabbed her hand and pulled her the way he had come. "No, we can't go back—"