Harriman put the navigation unit back in the equipment rack and fastened it in. "I still have trouble believing all this. Not that you're the Trent heir. I don't have a lot of trouble with that. I knew your mother, and I never really believed she got you killed in a helicopter accident at sea. Getting herself killed, I could believe that, but she wouldn't take any chances with you. I believe that part. But the rest? First you were able to talk to the lake, and now you can talk to the sea."
Lara giggled. "He talks to the Starswarms, not the water," she said. "The way you put it is crazy."
"It's crazy any way you put it," Harriman said. "Not that it isn't fascinating. You say you can talk to these critters, but they can't talk to each other?"
"Not directly," Kip said. "Not now, but if they learn to use the satellite links the way Gwen did, they'll be able to talk to each other. Up to now they used the gourds, with the centaurs carrying them."
"That's the part I love," Harriman said. "We always wondered about those gourds. Chemical messages. Makes sense. There's no reason you can't use DNA chains for communication. That's one way we communicate between generations, DNA codes are messages. They're instructions on how to make copies of us." He pulled at his chin and stared pensively out to sea. "I suppose that's why the Starswarms never invented electronics. The centaurs carry their messages, and they can pack a lot more information into a gourd than they can transmit in a week over the air waves. Sort of like a courier on a bicycle carrying a load of data disks. The information travels slower, but there's a lot more of it.
"Anyway, we'll get loaded up, and I'll let the boat down, but there's no way in hell we're going anywhere until we get those cells charged up."
"Do what you can," Kip said. He used what he thought was a voice of authority, the way Uncle Mike used to talk to people who worked for him. That felt silly, and it didn't seem to have much effect on Harriman anyway. Kip shined his light toward the fence. "We're ready."
"What are you looking for?" Harriman demanded.
"A centaur. I was given a picture of a centaur on the boat with us."
"A centaur. Dogs, a centaur, no power in the fuel cells. Regular Noah's Ark drifting in the tide."
Lara giggled. "Only one centaur, not two," she said. "No one has ever seen a live female."
Mrs. Harriman came out with a large basket. "This is the last of it. Kip, are you sure you want to start out in the dark?"
"Mr. Trent is waiting for a centaur," Lon Harriman said. "A male one because no one has ever seen a female outside the groves. Rachel, I think this is all nuts."
The dogs growled, and Silver barked once, sharply.
"There," Lara said. She pointed to the fence. A small gray centaur stood there. It seemed terrified, but it waited at the gate, watching them with half-closed eyes, its head cocked to one side.
"Silver. Mukky. Back," Kip ordered. "Lil. Go to the boat."
"Do we really have to take the dogs with us?" Lon Harriman asked.
"Sure, we don't know when we'll be back," Kip said.
"Or if," Harriman said. "One reason we don't keep dogs here. Too much trouble cleaning after them if we take them on board. All right. I'll put them below, and we'll sort out who cleans what and when later." He ushered the dogs down the companion-way and closed the door on them. "Now your friend there." He fingered the holstered pistol on his belt. "Last time I saw one of those critters, it threw rocks at me. You're sure about this?"
"No, but I think we ought to do it," Kip said. He went to the gate and opened it. The centaur walked in gingerly. It was considerably smaller than Blaze, and seemed much more frightened. It went across the gangway and stood in the stern of the boat, trying to huddle into a corner at the stern rail.
Kip and Lara followed it. "We're all aboard," Kip said.
"That's it, then," Harriman said. "Places. Lara, check the bow lines. I still feel like a damn fool." He went to the steering cabin and opened the covers on the switches controlling the boat's davits. "OK. I'll let her down, but we stay anchored. There's enough power to haul us back up. All lines cast off?"
"Yes, sir," Lara said. "Clear forward."
"Clear aft," Mrs. Harriman said. "Davit blocks clear."
"Going down." The boat dropped slowly and smoothly toward the water below. The davits were cantilevered out from the bluff so that when the boat was in the water the lines held it clear of the cliff. A bow line led from the boat to an anchored buoy well offshore. "Here we go," Harriman muttered. "Cast off the davit lines."
"Done forward," Lara called.
"We're loose," Mrs. Harriman said.
A winch in the bow reeled in the line until they were near the buoy thirty meters from shore. "Now what?" Harriman said.
There was a gray smear to the east, just visible now despite the bright working lights on the boat's deck.
"We're here."
"WAIT."
A large black tentacle rose out of the sea astern of the boat. When the centaur saw it, it trotted over to the rail. The tentacle crept over the stern rail, then upward to embrace the centaur. It flattened slightly as it encircled the centaur's neck, then flattened again to form what looked like a hood that covered the centaur's head, so that only the eyes were visible. The centaur stood rigidly still, staring at nothing.
Lara pointed at the centaur. "That's the way you look," she told Kip. "When you're listening inside your head."
Mr. Harriman stared. "I will be dipped in—what is that?"
Kip barely heard them speaking. He concentrated, trying to picture the empty fuel cells, and the boat drifting helplessly toward the rocks.
"WAIT."
"It says to wait," Kip said.
"For what?"
"I don't know."
The tentacle released the centaur. New pictures flowed into Kip's mind. Again they were confused, but one set was clear, the centaur looking at the empty fuel cells. Kip hesitated. Pictures flowed with a new sense of urgency. "All right," Kip said aloud. He bent down to lift the hatch covers set into the stern deck. The fuel cells were just under them. The centaur bent to examine them as if he knew just what he was looking for, then trotted back to the stern rail. The tentacle embraced him again.
"God Almighty," Lon Harriman said. "Kip, do you know what's going on?"
"No, sir—"
There was motion at the stern. Something huge and dark rose over the stern rail and flowed across the deck. Kip saw what looked like a flash of teeth among writhing tentacles.
"Good God, stay away from that," Harriman said. "Those eels can throw about a thousand-volt shock!" He drew his pistol.
"Don't hurt it," Kip shouted. "Just—just wait."
Kip's schoolbooks called it Budonnic's Eel, but the books were quick to point out that while it was more like an eel than a squid, it was neither, occupying a phylum all to itself. Its life cycle wasn't understood because very few had ever been found. Like Earth's electric eels, Budonnic's Eel generated electric currents that it used for navigation and to stun its prey.
The eel flowed down into the fuel cell compartment. The centaur came over to watch, perhaps to guide the eel. It was hard to see what was happening there below the deck, but there was a flash of blue light.
"ALERT." A picture formed in Kip's head. The empty fuel cells were filling.
"Mr. Harriman, I think you ought to look at the charge gauges," Kip said.
"Charge gauges? You mean—" Harriman went back to the steering console. "Yeah, now I've seen everything," he said. "They're charging up all right. Rachel, come look at this."
"I see it," Mrs. Harriman said.
"Do you believe it?"
She laughed nervously, and pointed to the charge gauges. "I believe those. Don't you?"
"I guess I have to. But how the hell would it know what we need?"
"The Starswarm has had fuel cells to study," Kip said.
"And it talks to the centaurs," Lara said. She pointed. "And to that eel too!"
Harriman nodded. "Clearl
y. But I wouldn't have believed it if someone told me. OK, Kip, at the rate your friends are charging up the boat we can get moving by dawn." He looked out to the east. "Wind's steady at about five knots, but it sure feels like a storm coming," he said. "Maybe we'll beat it to Pearly Gates. We can sure try." He looked back at the fuel cell compartment and shook his head in wonder.
Chapter Fifty-One
It's All Up to Kip
MIKE set the helicopter down near the edge of the lake. "OK, Cal, we'll get our stuff out and she's all yours. Head for home."
"I won't get that far," Cal said. "And from what I'm hearing, they aren't going to listen to anything I say. If they'd kill Mr. Trent and his wife, they'd sure kill me for knowing too much."
"Might be," Mike said. "So what do you want to do?"
"I think I'll stick with you. Safety in numbers. And hell, I got an interest in keeping you alive. You owe me twenty thousand."
"I do, don't I? OK. We'll pile the stuff into the cave, and leave the chopper up on the ridge. It'll be dark in an hour, maybe they won't find it until morning."
Marty went down to the lake and began searching the plants growing along the lakeshore. Finally he found one he liked, and plucked a leaf. He carried it to the water's edge and threw it in. It floated for a moment, then was pulled under by something unseen.
"Marty, what are you doing?" Mike called. "We got to get this stuff unloaded."
"Yes, sir. Just for luck," Marty said. "One more, just for luck." He found another bug-infested leaf to throw in before he went back up to unload the chopper.
The gunship came at first light. It flew in low over the lake and turned to fly along the shore near the cave, then whipped up and over until it was out of sight.
"They've spotted the supply chopper," Cal said. "I'll give them half an hour to examine it before they come back."
His prediction was reasonably accurate. Twenty-five minutes later the gunship swept back down the hill and out over the lake.
"TURN ON YOUR PHONE, FLYNN. WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE." The voice boomed out over the water. "WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT HOSTAGES."
"Sure they do," Mike muttered. He took a coil of wire from his ditty bag and attached it to the phone antenna. Then he took out a tiny TRI-V camera no larger than a fountain pen. "OK, everybody, get well back in the cave. Back, and around a corner, and get behind something."
"Do you think that's necessary?" Fuller asked.
"Yeah. Now get moving. Marty, keep an eye on our friendly Lieutenant here. And get the dogs under cover." He waited until the others were well down into the cave, then set the camera so that it would look out over the lake, and covered it with rocks until only the lens was exposed. He put more and larger rocks against the pile that shielded it, so that it would take a direct hit to disable it. Then he unreeled the wire so that one end was at the cave mouth, the other attached to his phone. Another wire led from the camera to his pocket computer. Mike unreeled both wires as he moved down into the cave and around a corner, then turned on the phone.
It rang almost instantly.
"Flynn."
"Baskins. Are my troops all right?"
"Sure. Want to tell me what this is all about, Colonel?"
"It started as an investigation of an explosion, but now we have kidnapping," Baskins said. "If my troops are unharmed we can think about dropping that charge. Come out and let's talk about it."
The TRI-V camera showed the gunship moving closer to the cave mouth, then hanging there above the lake. The pilot and the door gunner were scanning the cave mouth with binoculars.
"OK, you want me for kidnapping. What about the kids?"
"Nobody wants them," Baskins said. "We're satisfied they had nothing to do with the explosion. Look, this was all a misunderstanding."
"Sure it was," Mike said. "Tell you what, let Bernie Trent tell me it was a misunderstanding."
"We're not going to bother the Governor over something as trivial as this."
Mike laughed. "Yeah, sure. You get me Mr. Trent and we'll come out peaceful as you please."
The sound of the helicopter's machine guns was startling even though Mike had been expecting it. The guns fired so rapidly that it was more like one long sound than a series of shots. Bullets pounded the cave entrance and ricocheted down its corridors. There were several explosions at the entrance as rocket-propelled grenades went off. The TRI-V image shook with the vibrations, but the rocks protected it. When the firing stopped, Mike could see the gunship.
"Flynn?" Mike's ears rang from the explosions and it was hard to hear the voice on the phone. Mike didn't answer.
He watched until the gunship vanished from the camera image and nodded to himself.
Cal crawled up beside him. "You OK?"
"Yeah."
"Fuller's really shook up," Cal said. "He didn't figure they'd start shooting like that. He was supposed to be sure the kids weren't hurt."
"They've changed those orders," Mike said. "I expect they'd be happier if Kip was dead. Was Kettering surprised?"
"Now you mention it, no, I don't think so. Just scared."
"Interesting. OK, Cal, now they'll be coming up to take a look at what they bagged. Hang on a minute." He handed his pocket computer to Cal. "Keep an eye on that screen. Long as that chopper's not visible, they can't shoot into the cave. Not directly, anyway. Sing out if you see it."
"They can sure throw in grenades," Cal said.
"Don't I know it. I won't be long." Mike crawled forward to the cave entrance. The helicopter was nowhere in sight, but two armed men were approaching the cave entrance. They moved cautiously through the scrub brush, gaining confidence as they got closer to the cave and nothing happened.
Mike nodded to himself and drew his pistol. He took careful aim and fired, one shot at each man, then dashed back down the cave and around the bend.
"Incoming!" Cal shouted. "Oh. There you are."
There was another burst of machine-gun fire at the cave mouth, but no grenades this time.
"Score?" Cal asked.
"Got one of them in the leg. Maybe the other, not sure. Leg shots are tricky. But one for sure."
"Leg shots. They're trying to kill us, you know."
"Yeah, I know, but hell, Cal, they're just cops trying to do a job. I been there myself. They're taking orders from the wrong man, but they don't know that."
"Maybe. Now what?" Cal asked.
"They know we're alive and armed, so they won't try just walking in again. They'll come collect the wounded, and bring in reinforcements," Mike said. "Maybe even from Cisco. Then they'll try again."
The phone rang. Mike grinned at it. "Let 'em wonder," he said.
"Mike, is there any way out of this?" Cal asked.
"There's another cave entrance, but they probably know about it."
"Didn't mean the cave. I mean this whole mess. Is there any way we can get out of it alive?"
"Depends on Kip," Mike said. "It all depends on Kip."
Chapter Fifty-Two
We Don't Need Them Alive
HENRY Tarleton looked up from the computer screen with a scowl. It would be easy enough to panic, but if he had been the sort of person who panicked he wouldn't be where he was now, on the fiftieth floor of the Great Western tower, the same floor as the General Manager, with the same view of the sea to the east. It was never time to panic, but there were plenty of things to worry about.
His resources were stretched to the breaking point. There were plenty of GWE cops who'd obey his orders, but very few of them were loyal to him rather than to the company. Worse, some of them believed in things like justice and fair play. He'd tried to weed out that kind of police agents from real power, but he couldn't do without them. The problem with corrupting the police force was that you ended up with cops who had no reason to do police work. If they were only interested in what they could get, they wouldn't work very hard, and they'd rather harass citizens than take risks to catch real criminals. Then the crime rates went up, and c
ompany management talked about a clean sweep of the security department. Like it or not, he had to use honest cops, and make them think he was one himself, a little tarnished but fundamentally like them. Only a few could know who he really worked for, and they were expensive.
Too few. He was running out of agents. Four were assigned to keep watch on Bernard Trent. Not enough, but they were all he could work into positions close to Trent. Bernard Trent kept his own agents, Swiss and Italians who hoped to go back to Earth with him, and while Henry Tarleton didn't understand people who couldn't be bribed, Trent seemed to have found some. Four would be enough, though.
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