"Nothing. See if you can contact Lewis. Tell him to meet me at the Command Center."
Oakes turned on his heel. The hatch hissed closed behind him.
She keyed a search for Lewis and fed the message into it, then tried once more to contact Ship. No response. She sat back and stared at the comdesk. A feeling of regret swept over her, pre-remorse, a sense of sorrow over the Morgan Oakes who might have been. He was nearing the very kind of desperation she wanted.
Let someone attack the Redoubt. Whatever happened, she would be ready with the material she had stored here.
At the worst possible moment, Morgan Lon Oakes! You may be able to appreciate my timing, although you never have before.
Would it happen in front of Thomas? Was it possible that Thomas had survived and would lead an attack? She thought it distinctly possible. Thomas - another Ceepee. The unfailing Thomas who had seen her run the P, who had helped her in that desperate hour, then said nothing of it to anyone.
Discreet. Kind and discreet. Almost a lost breed.
Doubts began to fill her mind then. Perhaps the survival of humans groundside really did depend on Oakes and Lewis. But Colony was gone and the Redoubt was clearly under siege from the planet, if not from some nebulous force headed by Thomas. She thought of the Scream Room then. Where did the Scream Room figure in any scheme of survival? The Scream Room was unjustifiable by any standards. It betrayed negative, anti-survival impulses. Everything about it, that proceeded from it, brought death or hunger or a terrifying subservience. No - not survival.
Oakes put me through the Scream Room.
Nothing would ever change that. But Thomas had guarded the perimeter hatch for her. His were survival instincts. She determined then that she would see what she could do to keep the Thomas breed from dying out.
At what cost? she wondered then, her doubts returning. At what cost?
***
A horrible feeling came over m...terrible amusement, for I believed that humankind, through the filtering of Ship's manipulations and the great passage of time, had lost the very ability to engage in war. I thought war had been bred and conditioned out of them at the very moment when they needed this ability the most.
WHILE HALI was making another examination of Waela's condition and well before the freighter reached atmosphere, Bitten's metallic voice barked at them from the overhead 'coder.
"Do you know a Kerro Panille?"
Waela stirred and mumbled at the sound, then rubbed both hands over her mounded abdomen.
"Yes, we know Panille," Hali said. She closed and sealed her pribox. "Why?"
"You wish to land at some place other than Colony," Bitten intoned. "That now may be possible."
Ferry glared up toward the 'coder. "You said we had to land at Colony!"
"I have been in contact with Kerro Panille," Bitten said. "He asserts that Colony has been destroyed."
"Destroyed?" Hali sat stiffly in her couch, dumb with shock.
Ferry gripped the arms of his command couch, knuckles white. "But we're programmed for landing at Colony."
"I remind you that I am the emergency program," Bitten said. "Present conditions fit the definition of emergency."
"Then where can we land?" Hali asked. And she felt the stirrings of hope. Contact with Kerro!
"Panille asserts that I can make a sea landing near an occupied site called the Redoubt. He is prepared to guide us to that landing."
Hali checked the fastenings which held Waela in the passenger couch, returned to her own seat and strapped in. The plaz directly in front of her framed a brilliant circle of cloud-covered planet.
"They meant us to die," Ferry muttered. "Damn them!"
"Do you desire to land at the alternate site?" Bitten asked.
"Yes, land us there," Hali said.
"There is risk," Bitten said.
"Land us there!" Ferry shouted.
"A normal tone of voice suffices for conversational direction of this program," Bitten said.
Ferry stared at Hali. "They meant us to die."
"I heard you. What do you mean?"
"Murdoch said we would have to go to Colony."
Hali looked at him, weighing his words. Was the man unaware of what he had just told her?
"So it was a set-up," she said. "You staged that fight."
Ferry remained silent, blinking at her.
"But you cut off one of Murdoch's ears," Hali said, remembering.
Ferry bared his old teeth in a terrible grin. "He did something to my Rachel. I know he did."
Hali crossed her arms over her breast, hearing all the unspoken things in Ferry's words. Her gaze went to the laser scalpel clipped in a breast pocket of Ferry's singlesuit: a thin stylus with death or life in its mechanism.
He was supposed to bring the scalpel in case he needed it against me!
"I made it seem like an accident," Ferry said. "But I knew they did something to my Rachel. And Murdoch's the one they get to do the nasty stuff." He nodded at Hali. "In the Scream Room. That's where they do it."
As he said Scream Room, he shuddered.
"So we were supposed to go to Colony and it's destroyed," Ferry said. "Demons, yes. Very neat. They didn't like my asking about Rachel."
Hali wet her lips with her tongue. "What'.... what's the Scream Room?"
"In Lab One where they do the nasty stuff. It was because of Rachel, I know it was. And I drink too much. Lots of us do that after the Scream Room."
Bitten's voice intruded: "Correction noted."
"What was that?" Ferry demanded.
"This is Bitten. I have acknowledged a course correction from Kerro Panille."
"You're going to land us in the sea?" Hali asked, filled with sudden concern for her unconscious patient.
"Near shore. Panille asserts there will be help where we land."
"What about the demons?" Ferry asked.
"If that is a reference to native fauna, you can protect yourselves with the weapons in this freighter's cargo."
"You carr.... weapons?" Hali asked.
"The cargo manifest lists food concentrates, building equipment and tools, medical supplies, groundsuits and weapons."
Hali shook her head. "I knew you needed weapons to survive groundside, but I didn't know they were being made shipside."
"Do you know what a weapon is?" Ferry asked, looking directly at Hali.
She thought of her history holos, and the soldiers at the Hill of Skulls. "Oh, yes. I know about weapons."
"This laser scalpel." Ferry touched the stylus shape at his breast. "Acid concentrates, plasteel cutters for construction teams, knives, axe...."
Hali swallowed past a lump in her throat. Every bit of her med-tech training cried out against this. "If we prepare t.... kill," the word was barely a sigh past her lips, "then we will kill."
"Down here, it's kill or be killed," Ferry said. "That's the way The Boss wants it."
In that instant, the freighter skipped into the first thin surface of Pandora's atmosphere. Vibration hummed all through the cabin, then smoothed.
"Can't we run away?" Hali asked. Her voice was a low whisper.
"Nowhere to run," Ferry said. "You must know that. All Shipmen learn enough about groundside to know that."
Fight or flee, Hali thought, and nowhere to flee. And it occurred to her that Pandora was a place where people were made into primitives.
"Trust me," Ferry said, and the quavering in his old voice made the statement pathetic.
"Yes, of course," Hali said.
She felt the freighter's braking thrust then as it pressed her against the restraining harness, and she glanced back to reassure herself that Waela remained secure.