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Carrera twisted his head. "Rau'?"

"Here, Patricio," Parilla answered.

"Don' le' anywhu execu'e t'e bas'ar's, please? No' ye'."

"Of course, my friend."

Carrera stirred again. "Lour'es, wha' abou' Mac?"

"He . . . he died, Patricio. And Linda's trixie, Jinfeng, too, was killed for trying to give us warning."

After that, Carrera couldn't speak for a very long time. When he did, it was to say, "Ah'm goin' to crucify t'em all."

Academia Militar Sergento Juan Malvegui, Puerto Lindo, Balboa, Terra Nova

Maria Muñoz had asked Chapayev to bring her to the school chapel as soon as they'd arrived from Fort Williams. She wanted to pray for her father and his men, she'd told him. Now, while he waited in a pew in the back, she, on her knees, talked with her God.

And, Heavenly Father, the girl prayed, after taking care of familial and regimental duties, please forgive me for being a vile, rude, nasty bitch to Victor Chapayev. He saved my father, and quite possibly myself, and I promise to be a much nicer girl to him than I've ever been in the past. She crossed herself and began to stand, but then went back to her knees again.

Which is not to say, O Lord, that I won't have to come here and beg forgiveness for myself for some of the very nice things I intend to do for him. First, though . . .

Ciudad Balboa Beach, Balboa, Terra Nova

The conspirators had been tried by the full Senate. For the main ones, the ones about whom there could be no doubt of their guilt, the trial hadn't taken long. The sentences had been something of a surprise.

Rocaberti was first in the procession, a wooden timber over his shoulder and iron chains about his ankles. Behind him came his own two rump vice-presidents, Pigna, his chief of police for the old city, Barletta, the entire set of teams who had captured Carrera and Parilla—such as could be taken alive, the one survivor of those who had tried to grab Muñoz-Infantes, and about three score of the remnants of Rocaberti's police force, excepting only those Rojas had bargained for. Armed men, legionaries, not Volgans, marched to either side. Closer in, still other legionaries used cattle prods liberally.

Along the beach nearly one hundred stout posts had been driven into the sand and wedged in securely. The posts had U-shaped, steel fixtures attached. Unsurprisingly, these were of a shape and size to accommodate the beams carried by the condemned.

Pigna was almost unique in the party in that he didn't weep along the short march from the prison to the beach. For this reason, Carrera, seated on a wheel chair, pointed to him and said, "This traitor first."

Pigna was seized, striped down to shorts, and his arms were bound together at the wrists. His beam was placed in the U-shaped fixture. Then he was hoisted up, his bound hands hooked over the upright, and allowed to drop. This hurt, but not enough to raise a cry. Indeed, he said not a word until his ankles were pulled into position and first steel spike was driven through into the wood below.

After that, Pigna cried more than had most of the others. At least until their turns came to be hooked over and nailed up.

The TV cameras caught all of it.

* * *

Rocaberti's turn came last. "Why?" was all the ex-president could come up with.

Carrera had healed enough, and had enough dental work done, to speak easily.

"You know," he said, to Rocaberti, "I don't think your nephew ever got to rape my wife. She killed him, you see. That much is certain. And she denies having been raped. Now, is it possible he raped her beforehand and that she's lying about it? Sure; it's possible. And that's one reason why you're going up on that cross, just in case she needs to feel thoroughly avenged. As important, I want anyone who might even think about siding with the TU to realize that they can't be relied upon at all and that the penalty for doing so is extreme. Lastly, I just hate your guts.

"Take him."

Casa Linda, Balboa, Terra Nova

Lourdes watched the televised crucifixion dry-eyed and unsympathetic. She'd changed a lot in the last month, so much so that she hardly recognized herself. These people had threatened her and hers, nearly killed her husband, nearly raped herself. They had killed someone her husband looked up to almost as if a father. Other innocents, too, not least the Garzas and their men, deserved their revenge. Those men could hang there and die by inches over days and that was just fine with Lourdes de Carrera.

Artemisia was staying at the casa. "I just can't go home yet, Lourdes," she'd said. "Not until I can look at something of Mac's without breaking down." Of course, she was welcome to stay forever, if she liked.

Someone, Lourdes hadn't a clue as to who, had rearranged Moises Rocaberti's corpse before anyone could see that he'd been partially undressed. Whoever it was, Lourdes thanked that person, silently. It would never do for Patricio to think anything had happened to be for which he would blame himself. Better to hold it inside.

For that matter, oral sex was the only kind she would give her husband now. I told him it was because I didn't want to damage his setting bones. And that's true . . . as far as it goes. Mostly, though, I want to wash the taste of that bastard's cock out of my mouth. And that is going to take a lot of washing.

Her reveries were interrupted by Arti. "Lourdes, that satellite call to Pashtia went through. Ham's on the line."

She rushed for the phone.

Ham spoke first, in a voice on the edge of puberty and cracking on about every fifth word. "Mom, what the hell is going on back home?"

"We had a coup attempt," she answered, "but we came through it all right."

"Do you need me to come home?"

"No," she answered, "but there is something you can do for me."

"Anything, mother."

"I've discovered we can't trust people. I'd never have believed that before, but it's true. I need some guards, maybe two hundred of them."

"You want me to send some of my people to you?"

"Could you? Please? As trustworthy as you can find."

"Well . . ." the boy hesitated, then continued, "these people take blood and marriage ties pretty seriously. Would two hundred sons in law and nephews and cousins in law do?"

"Where would you . . . WHAT?"

"I'll have to ask my wives for their recommendations, of course . . . Mom? Mom, are you there? Mmmooommm?"

Epilogue

UEPF Spirit of Peace, Rift Point, Terra Novan side

The rift was fixed in space. The planet, however, moved. That's what made timing a rift jump tricky. Pass the rift too early and a ship could end up chasing a receding planet even while trying to slow down, and having a harder time slowing down because the lasers on the far end were running away, hence more attenuated. Come too late and spend a year or two swinging around the local sun, and then having to chase a receding planet.

Wallenstein—rather Richard, Earl of Care, acting under her instruction—had timed it rather well. Peace would assume orbit around the new world in just about seven months. Already they were in communication with the fleet, though there was a not inconsiderable time lag—just under eight hours—between messages. This would shorten as the ship closed on the planet and the planet continued in its orbit.

Not that every message took that long. Not long after Peace came out of the rift, Wallenstein ordered a tightbeam opened with UEPF Dag Hammarskjöld, Captain Bruce Shi (Class One), Count of Wuxi and Knight Commander of the Order of the Sun, commanding.