He snorted. "So for all that bluster you really didn't know for sure, huh?" hesneered. "Of course I killed him. What, you think Chort did it?"
"Just wanted to make sure," I murmured.
"Glad we could clear that up," Brother John said. "Dar, Kinrick; you stayhere.
The rest of you, come with me."
The walk back to the Icarus seemed a lot longer this time. Brother John tookthe lead, with Everett and one of his men at his sides. Behind them, Ixil, Tera, and I were herded along by the other three, who made sure to keep us a respectfulfive paces behind the others in case one of us suddenly felt the urge tocommit suicide by trying to jump them.
It was darker outside now. Darker and colder, and the light breeze that hadbeen rustling the leaves earlier had picked up into something stiff and unpleasant.
Which were, not coincidentally, words that also described Tera as she stalkedalong in bitter silence beside me, undoubtedly heaping full blame for thesituation squarely on my head. To be fair, it was hardly a point of view Icould disagree with.
But at the moment I didn't really care about the cold or the footing or Tera'sanger or even the gun digging into my left kidney. My entire attention was onthe dice I could visualize rolling across a mental table in front of my eyes.
The dice had been thrown, the gamble had been made; and in a handful ofminutes I would find out whether I'd won or lost.
There was a shadowy figure waiting in the open hatchway as we reached theIcarus and started up the ladder. Brother John went first, followed by his bodyguardand Everett, then Tera, another guard, and Ixil. The other two guards saved mefor last, then sandwiched me between them as the three of us went up theladder.
Either Brother John considered me the most dangerous of the group, or else thefact that I had been the one to gimmick the ship entitled me to specialhandling.
Brother John had gone on ahead, but Tera and Ixil were still waiting as Ireached the wraparound, together with their guards, the shadowy figure I'dseen waiting up there, and two more of his buddies. I'd thought the bodyguardsBrother John had brought to the lodge were big, ugly, and well armed, but thislatter group beat them hands down on all three counts. Silently, they gesturedwith their guns; just as silently, we walked along the wraparound to the mainsphere.
The hatch to the sphere was closed. The leading thug opened it and steppedthrough, bobbling his balance somewhat as he passed through the gravitychange.
Tera and Ixil went next, negotiating the discontinuity with the grace of longpractice. Holding my breath, I followed.
The sphere looked more or less the way I'd left it earlier that evening, exceptthat the inner lights were blazing cheerfully away and that there were anothereight strangers glowering at us. Four of them, stamped from the same mold asour current escort, were standing in a loose group near the bottom of the sphere; three others, working diligently at my helm and nav setup up the forward sideof the hull, were apparently the pilot and engine specialists who were supposedto have had the Icarus well on its way by now.
But it was the eighth man who caught my full attention, the man waiting at theexact bottom of the sphere as if not trusting the alien gravity that pinnedhis tech people to the deck halfway up the side. He was a small man, at leastcompared to the four bodyguards grouped around him, well past middle agedespitethe signs of extensive rejuvenation therapy, wearing a dark and expensive suitand some muted and even more expensive jewelry. His face was old; hisexpression was impassive; and his eyes were as dead as a thousand-year-old corpse. He wasa man I had never met, but I knew instantly who he was.
The rolling dice had come to a halt. And I'd won.
"You must be McKell," the man said as Brother John led us down the hull towardhim, his voice as dead as his eyes.
"Yes," I acknowledged. "And you must be Mr. Antoniewicz. I'm very pleased tofinally meet you."
"Are you," he said. Some people, or so the saying goes, can undress you withtheir eyes. Antoniewicz's look was more like stripping me straight down to thebone. "Interesting. Most of those who are brought to meet me are not at alllooking forward to the experience. Many of them find themselves screaming, infact, and don't seem able to stop."
I swallowed despite myself, all the stories and rumors of what happened topeople brought before Antoniewicz flashing through my mind. "I understandthat, sir," I said humbly. "But if I may be so bold, I suspect none of those otherswere bringing the sort of gift I have to offer you."
The corners of his lips might have turned up, but it would have taken amicrometer to measure it. The smile, if that's what it was, made his eyes lookeven deader. "Really. I was under the impression that the Icarus was now minebysimple right of possession."
"I agree," I said, passing over the fact that if I hadn't cooperatively flownthe ship into his waiting arms it wouldn't have been in his possession.
Considering the size and number of his bodyguards, comments like that werequiteeasy for me to stifle. "I was actually speaking of something else entirely.
Or, rather, someone else entirely."
"Wait a minute," Everett growled, taking a step toward me. "You take creditfor her and I'll cave your face in."
"Ryland?" Antoniewicz invited, gesturing at Tera.
"Everett claims she's the daughter of Arno Cameron," Brother John said. Icould still hear the phony good humor in his voice, but it was curiously subdued.
Most everything good, I suspected, humor included, would darken or wilt inAntoniewicz's presence. "Cameron's the man who—"
"I know who he is," Antoniewicz said. "Tell me why Everett thinks he deservescredit for her."
"I'd like to take a moment to remind everyone that I'm not anyone's carnivalprize," Tera cut in, glaring at each of us in turn but saving her mostwitheringlook for me. I couldn't really blame her on that count, either; if I hadn'trevealed her identity during my brilliant summing up of the case a few minutesago, she'd be just one more anonymous prisoner back in the lodge.
I cleared my throat. "If I might explain—"
"Quiet," Antoniewicz said. He hadn't raised his voice, or changed hisinflection, or even looked at me—the full force of his gaze was on Tera at themoment. And yet, my mouth clamped shut, almost of its own accord, my attemptedmediation cut short as if guillotined. The sheer presence of the man, thepowerand evil lurking veiled beneath the surface, were almost physical qualitieslike his voice or face or expensive suit. For the first time, I truly understood how it was he'd been able to create such a huge and wide-ranging criminal empire.
Tera wasn't nearly as easily impressed as I was. "I don't know who exactly youare," she continued on into the silence, "but whatever it is you think I'mworth to you, you're sadly mistaken."
"No, I don't think so," Antoniewicz disagreed mildly. "Of all those who workedclosely on this ship, only your father remains at large. You're the lever thatwill pry him out of hiding."
"If you think that, you're more of a fool than I thought," Tera scoffed, clearlynot caring whether she offended him or not. Across our little circle I sawboth Everett and Brother John wince, with Pix and Pax giving a little twitch aswell.
One simply didn't talk that way to Mr. Antoniewicz. "My father is fully awareof what this ship is worth to humanity," Tera continued. "And he has never yetlet personal considerations get in the way of what needs to be done. Whateverinformation he has about the Icarus, the last thing he'll do is give it awayto someone like you. Certainly not under duress."
"Not even with his daughter's life at stake?" Antoniewicz asked, his voicepolitely incredulous.
"No," Tera said flatly, straightening to an almost-haughty posture as pridemomentarily eclipsed every evidence of fear and uncertainty. I could imaginethe true royalty of old facing the peasant mobs with the same courage and disdain.