"Where's everybody?" Amanda asked.
"They went on to the other buildings," Tina said.
Amanda let herself out again and went on, trying doors as she went. She found two more buildings where one of the adults stood guard over ill soldiers. She was almost back to the vehicle parking area, when she saw a huddled figure against the outside Avail of a building.
"Reiko!" she said, and knelt clumsily beside the other woman.
"Stop Mene," Reiko barely whispered. She was bleeding heavily just above the belt of her jumper. "Mene's out of her head."
"All right," said Amanda. "You lie quiet"
With an effort, she rose and went on. There was the next building before her. She opened the door and found Mene holding her energy rifle on yet another room of sick and dying soldiers. Mene's face was white and wiped clean of expression. Her eyes stared, fixed, and her finger quivered on the firing button of the weapon. The gaze of all the men in the room were on her face; and there was not even the sound of breathing.
"Mene," said Amanda, gently. Mene's gaze jerked around to focus on Amanda for a brief moment before returning to the soldiers.
"Mene…" said Amanda, softly. "It's almost over. Don't hurt anyone, now. It's just about over. Just hold them a while longer. That's all, just hold them."
Mene said nothing.
"Do you hear me?"
Mene nodded jerkily, keeping her eyes on the men before her.
"I'll be back soon," said Amanda.
She went out. The world was even more unreal about her and she felt as if she was walking on numb legs. But that was unimportant. Something large was wrong with the overall situation.
Something was very wrong. There were only two more huts shielding her from the vehicle park where the convoy had just unloaded. Those two buildings could not possibly hold all the rest of the original escort, plus the troops of the convoy. Nor should just those two huts be holding two or three of her adults. It did not matter what Arvid had told her. Something had gone astray - she could feel it like a cold weight hi her chest below the weakness and unreality brought on by her wound.
She tried to think with a dulled mind. She could gamble that Arvid and Bill's team had already subdued the house; and go back there now, without checking further, to get help… her mind cleared a little. A move like that would be the height of foolishness. Even if Arvid and Bill had men to spare to come back here with her, going for assistance would waste time when there might be no time to waste.
She took a good grip on her pellet gun, which was becoming an intolerable weight in her hands, and started around the curved wall of one of the huts.
Possibly the sense of unreality that held her was largely to blame - but it seemed to her that there was no warning at all. Suddenly she found herself in the midst of a tight phalanx of vehicles, the front ones already loaded with weaponed and alert-looking soldiers, and the rear ones with other such climbing into them. But, if her appearance among them had seemed sudden to her, it had apparently seemed the same to them.
She was abruptly conscious that all movement around her had ceased. Soldiers were poised, half-in, half-out of their vehicles. Their eyes were on her.
Plainly, her fears had been justified. The apparent replacement of well soldiers by sick ones had been a trap; and these she faced now were about to move in for a counterattack She felt the last of her energy and will slipping away, took one step forward, and jammed the muzzle of her pellet shotgun against the side panel shielding the power unit in the closest vehicle.
"Get down," she said to the officers and men facing her.
They stared at her as if she was a ghost risen out of the ground before them.
"I'll blow every one of you up if I have to - and be glad to," she said. "Get out. Lie down, face down, all of you!"
For a second more they merely sat frozen, staring. Then understanding seemed to go through them in an invisible wave. They began to move out of their seats.
"Hurry…" said Amanda, for her strength was going fast. "On the ground…"
They obeyed. Dreamily, remotely, she saw them climbing from the vehicles and prostrating themselves on the ground.
Now what do I do, Amanda thought? She had only a minute or two of strength left.
The answer came from the back of her head - the only answer. Press the firing button of the pellet gun, after all, and make sure no one gets away -
Unexpectedly, there was the sound of running feet behind her. She started to glance back over her shoulder; and found herself caught and upheld. She was surrounded by the field uniforms of four of the Dorsai staff members who had been with Arvid and Bill.
"Easy…" said the one holding her - almost carrying her, in fact. "We've got it. It's all over."
There succeeded a sort of blur, and then a large space of nothing at all. At last things cleared somewhat - but only somewhat - and she found herself lying under covers, in one of the Foralie bedrooms. Like someone in a high fever, she was conscious of people moving all around her at what seemed like ungracious speed, and talking words she could not quite catch. Her shoulder ached. Small bits and phrases of dialogue came clear from moment to moment.
"… shai Dorsai!"
What was that? That ridiculous phrase that the children had made up only a few years back, and which was now beginning to be picked up by their elders as a high compliment? It was supposed to mean "real, actual Dorsai." Nonsense.
It occurred to her, as some minor statistic might, that she was dying; and she was vaguely annoyed with herself for not having realized this earlier. There were things she should think about, if that was the case. If Betta had been in labor before the attack began, she might well have her child by now.
If so, it was important she tell Betta what she had decided just before they moved in on the troops, that the use of the Amanda name was her responsibility now, and the responsibility of succeeding generations…
"Well," said a voice just above her, and she looked up into the face of Ekram. He stank of sweat and anesthetic. "Coming out of it, are you?"
"How long…" it was incredibly hard to speak
"Oh, about two days," he answered with abominable cheerfulness.
She thought of her need to tell Betta of her decision.
"Betta…" she said. It was becoming a little easier to talk; but the effort was still massive. She had intended to ask specifically for news of Betta and the child.
"Betta's fine. She's got a baby boy, all parts in good working order. Three point seven three kilograms."
Boy! A shock went through her.
Of course. But why shouldn't the child be a boy? No reason - except that, deluded by her own aging desires, she had fallen into the comfortable thought that it would not be anything but a girl.
A boy. That made the matter of names beside the point entirely.
For a moment, however, she teetered on the edge of self-pity. After all she had known, after all these years, why couldn't it have been a girl - under happier circumstances when she could have lived to know it, and find that it was a child who could safely take up her name?
She hauled herself back to common sense. What was all this foolishness about names, anyway? The Dorsai had won, had kept itself independent. That was her reward, as well as the reward to all of them - not just the sentimental business of passing her name on to a descendent. But she should still tell Betta of her earlier decision, if Ekram would only let them bring the girl to her. It would be just like the physician to decide that her dying might be hurried by such an effort, and refuse to let Betta come. She would have to make sure he understood this was not a decision for him to make. A deathbed wish was sacred and he must understand that was what this was…