"Yes, Cletus," said Amanda, stepping back from the staff car. The convoy got underway and moved out.
"And that's this military genius of theirs?" she heard one of the enlisted men muttering to another, as she turned away with Estrange.
Five minutes later she was on her way past the cordon of sentries enclosing the town and twelve minutes after that, having stopped only to pickup her handgun, she stood beside Ramon, on his skimmer, looking down from cover on the more slowly-moving convoy as it headed in the direction of Foralie.
"We'll want all the available teams in position around Foralie before they get there," she said. "But when they show up, let them through. We'll want them together with Dew's escort before we hit them."
"Most of the men in that convoy are sick," said
Ramon.
"Yes," said Amanda, half to herself. "But the ones who've been up there with Dow all this time are going to be perfectly healthy. And they're front line troops. If we don't get them in the first few minutes, it's going to cost us - "
"Maybe not," said Ramon. She looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, not all of them up at Foralie may be healthy. I haven't had a chance to tell you, but a patrol came up to there early today and stayed for about two hours. They could have switched personnel."
"Not likely." Amanda frowned. "Dew's their prize package. Why would they take the healthy troops they have protecting him; and replace them with cripples, just to get more of their able-bodied down at town?"
"They might have some reason we don't know about."
Amanda shook her head.
"I don't believe it," she said. "In fact, until I hear positively there's been a change of personnel at Foralie, I won't believe it. We'll continue on the assumption that they're all healthy troops there, and the only advantage we've got is surprise. Cletus, bless him, helped us with that, as much as he could. He did everything possible to put their suspicions to sleep, down in town."
"He did?" Ramon stared at her. "What did he do?"
Amanda told him what Cletus had said from the staff car in the hearing of the convoy soldiery.
Ramon's face lengthened.
"But maybe he really means we shouldn't do anything until…"
His voice failed at the look on Amanda's face.
"If a rooster came up to you and quacked," said Amanda, sharply, "would you ignore everything else about it and decide it'd turned into a drake?"
She looked down her nose at him.
"Even if Cletus actually had taken leave of his senses, that wouldn't alter the situation for the rest of us," she went on. "We've still got to move in, rescue him, and take deCastries when he reaches Foralie. It's the one chance we've got. But don't concern yourself. Cletus understands the situation here."
She nodded at his skimmer.
"You go get the teams into position. I'll meet you at Foralie before they get there."
"Where will you be?" Ramon's face was a little pale.
"I'll be rounding up any adults capable of using a weapon - except the women with young children - from the near households. We'll need anyone we can get."
"What about the other patrols?"
"Once we've got deCastries, we shouldn't have much opposition from anyone else who's been in Foralie Town. A good half of them are going to be dead in a week, and the most of the rest won't be able to fight."
"They may fight even if they're not able."
"How can they - " she broke off, suddenly seeing the white look in Ramon's eyes. "What's the matter with you? You ought to know that."
"I didn't want to know," he said. "I didn't listen when they told us."
"Didn't you?" said Amanda. "Well, you'd better listen now, then. Carbon monoxide passed over finely divided nickel gives you a liquid - nickel carbonyl, a volatile liquid that melts at twenty-five degrees Centrigrade, boils at forty-three degrees and evaporates at normal temperatures in the open. One part in a million of the vapors can be enough to cause allergic dermatitis and edema of the lungs - irreversible."
His face was stark His mouth was open as if he gasped for breath.
"I don't mind the fighting," he said thickly. "It's just the thought of the casualties among the soldiers. If this war could only be stopped now, before it starts-"
"Casualties? Before it starts?" Amanda held him with her eyes. "What do you think Berthe Haugsrud and Bhak and the others have been, down in town?"
He did not answer.
"They're our casualties," she said, "already counted. The war you want to stop before it starts has been going for two days. Did you think it would all take place with no cost at all?"
"No, I…" He swayed a little on his skimmer; and the momentary gust of anger he had sparked off in her went away, suddenly.
"I know," she said. "There's things that aren't easy for you to think about. They aren't easy for Ekram. Nor for me, nor any of us. Nor was it easy for those people like Berthe, down in town, who stayed there knowing what was going to happen to them. But do you have any more of it to face or live with than they did, or the boys and girls on the teams will?"
"No," he said. "But I can't help how I feel."
"No," she said. "No, of course you can't. Well, do the best you can, anyway."
He nodded numbly and reached for the power bar of his skimmer. Amanda watched him lift and slide away, gazing for a long moment after his powerful shoulders, now slumped and weary. Then she mounted her awn skimmer and took off at right angles to his route.
She reproached herself as she went for her outburst at him. He was still young and had not seen what people could do to people. He had no basis of experience from which to imagine what would happen to the dispossessed Dorsai, once they were scattered thinly among the populations of other worlds who had been educated to hold them in detestation and contempt. He could still cling to a hope that somehow an enemy could be defeated with such cleverness that neither friend nor foe need suffer.
She headed toward the Aras homestead to pick up Mene as the first of her adult recruits for the assault on Foralie.
Travelling there, even now, she found the mountains calming her spirit. The rain had stopped, according to the weather predictions Ramon had given her, and a swift wind was tearing the cloud cover to tatters. The sky revealed was a high, hard blue; and the air, on the wings of a stiff breeze, piping with an invigorating cold. She felt stilled, concentrated and clear of mind.
For better or for worse, they must now move into literal combat. There was no more time to worry whether individuals would measure up. There was no time for her cataloguing of the sort of lacks she had noted in Betta, in Melissa, in Lexy and just now in Ramon. Time had run out on her decision of the name for Betta's child. She must leave word with others before the actual assault on Foralie about what she had decided, one way or another, so that it could be passed on to Betta if necessary. She would do just that. At the last minute she would make up her mind one way or another and have done with it.
Forty-five minutes later, she swung her skimmer up to a fold in the hills, carrying Mene Aras with her. As she topped the rise and dipped down into the hidden hollow beyond, she saw the Ancients of five teams; together with a dozen or so of the team-leaders and runners from them, plus Jer Walker leaning on both his walking canes and a half-rifle slung from the shoulders of his frail, ninety-year old body. Nine of the other women, most of them young, and also armed, were already there. But most welcome of all was the sight of the unusual pair that were Arvid Johnson and Bill Athyer, together with six of the Dorsai they had been able to keep as staff
Amanda slid her skimmer to a stop, stepped off and walked up to Arvid and Bill.