***
We started working our way through the other transmissions. They came from mothers, grandparents, politicians, owners of bars, kids in classrooms, almost all saying thanks. They'd heard the sound version of the interview and were giving me credit for the improvised fleet from Borkarat and the Assemblage, which was already en route. Universities wanted to bestow academic credentials, somebody was going to name a foundation for me, and several towns offered real estate if I would consent to move there. There would be a Chase Kolpath Park in a place called Dover Cliff, and a historical site on Huanko Island, provided I agreed to visit. I was offered endorsement for lines of clothing, perfumes, and games. And I should mention upward of two hundred messages from guys who wanted to take me to dinner. There were also a few crank messages accusing me of treason, of consorting with the enemy, of encouraging alien lunatics who wanted nothing more than to destroy the human race and carry off our children. It was usually Alex who got all the attention. This time, though, nobody mentioned him. Nobody extended him any credit in the proceedings. Nobody proposed to him. Nobody even threatened him. "It's the way it is with celebrity," I said, magnanimously. "Up one day, down the next." He laughed. "You earned it." There was also a newswrap from Fenn Redfield on Rimway. Some administration officials at home were saying I'd been disloyal and were calling for an investigation. "Maybe I should look at some of the local real estate after all," I said. Alex laughed. "You're a hero. Before this is over, it's Whiteside who's going to have to get out of town."
It was three hours after midnight on shipboard when we docked at Samuels. We locked down, opened the hatch, walked out into the egress tube, and were greeted by a small crowd that applauded when they saw us. Among them I counted half a dozen Mutes. It was a good feeling. Maybe we were making progress. We waved and signed a few autographs. Then, when we were walking away, one of the Ashiyyur came up beside me. A female. I stopped and looked up at her. She said, "Chase-" It was too loud. "Yes?" She fiddled with the voice box. "Sorry. I can't control the volume on this thing." "It's okay. What can I do for you?" "There was a man back there. Who wants you dead. 'You' being both of you, but especially your friend, Alex."
Behind us, the crowd was dispersing. We didn't see anybody we recognized. "Who was it?" Alex asked. "Did you get a name?" "No. Couldn't read it." She turned and looked. "He's gone now. He had a cane. Walked with a limp."
FORTY
Praying will not help, Ormond. Someone needs to do something.
- Nightwalk
It had to be Wexler. Alex and I exchanged glances. "I guess he's still upset," said Alex. "You really think he's out to kill us?" "I don't know. What's the best possible construction you could put on what she told us?"
We started making our way out of the area when I heard someone sobbing. The sounds came from the crowd directly ahead. They were gathered around a boarding tube. We saw a few men and women and a lot of kids, and everybody was hugging everybody else. A couple of operational people were trying to move them up the tube. Move the kids up the tube. I asked a bystander what was going on. "It's part of the evacuation program," she said. "They're taking the kids to Sanctum." "Parents stay here?" I asked. "Pretty much. Two or three mothers go along, depending on the capacity of the ship." Some of the younger children were trying to hang on to the adults. They had to be pried loose. We listened to promises about how Mommy and Daddy will see you soon, go along with the nice lady, Jan, and everything will be fine. Some of them descended into hysterics. The struggle was still going on as we left the area. "What do we do about Wexler?" I asked, grateful to be able to change our focus. "There's a security office down on the lower level." "Not a good idea." "Why not?" "If he's watching us, and I'd be surprised if he isn't, he'll see us go in. If that happens, we'll lose our advantage." "Which is what?" "He doesn't know we've been warned. We should let the security office know, but do it by link." "Okay." "Try to look happy, Chase." I smiled and started whistling. "Happy," he said. "Not goofy." "Right. What else do we do?" "Where's the restaurant?" "Sandstone's is just up ahead." "Okay. Let's go in. We'll do it from there." "Wouldn't it be a better idea just to get on the shuttle and get away from here?" "We're going to have to deal with him at some point. Once we start running, we'll be doing it
permanently." "Okay. But I'm not sure it's a good idea to sit in Sandstone's, where he can get a clean shot at us. Why not at least get out of sight?" "Wexler's a survivor. He'll want to take us down, then have time to take the shuttle groundside. That means he'll try to get to us in a private place." It made sense. "You think Krestoff is with him?" I was looking around, trying to do it surreptitiously. Not easy. "We better assume she is." We went into Sandstone's and got a table back in the corner, away from the windows. No booth, because we might need to move quickly. "You still have the scrambler, Chase?" he asked. It was in the utility bag slung over one shoulder. "All right. Let's get a reservation at the hotel." "We'll have to use our real names." The secondary account had lapsed. "That's okay. Maybe it's just as well to make it easy for the lunatics to find us." He braced his chin on one hand while he considered the problem. I called the hotel. They had a suite available. "No," said Alex. "Two rooms." He ordered drinks. Then he called the security office. He identified himself and told them there were two wanted criminals running loose on the station. "And who are these criminals?" asked a female voice. Its owner sounded skeptical. "Mikel Wexler." He spelled it for her. "And Maria Krestoff."
"Okay. How do you know they're on the station?"
"I saw them."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"All right. One moment, please."
The restaurant was about half-full. But I saw no familiar faces either inside or out in the concourse.
"Ah, yes. Here's Wexler. Hmmm. Okay, Mr. Benedict. You have a personal acquaintance with these people, do you?"
"Yes."
"With both of them?"
"That's correct."
"Very good. Are you staying on the station?"
"Yes."
"You're at the hotel?"
"That's correct."
"All right, thank you. We'll keep an eye out. And we'll be in touch."
We sat looking at each other. "What do you think?" I said. "Well, they'll arrest them if they happen to run into them." While we tried our drinks and contemplated ordering some real food, I let the service people know that we'd changed our plans and they should route our bags to the hotel.
***
An hour or so later we strolled into the lobby. This was the point at which my nerves began to work on me. They'd put us on the fourth floor and I remember half-expecting to find Wexler waiting inside the elevator, or around the corner, as we headed for our rooms. I dug the scrambler out in the hallway. We checked my room. With weapon drawn. We were not going to underestimate the good doctor. When we were satisfied, I put my bags away, turned on the HV, and left the lights on. Tried to make it look as if I was in. Then we went through a similar procedure in Alex's room. If it seems that we were overreacting, please keep in mind that we'd been through a lot. Anyhow, Alex said he had no doubt we'd have visitors within the next few hours.
He said hello to the AI, whose name was Aia. She had a soft female voice. "Aia," he said, "can you do an impersonation of Administrator Kilgore?" "You mean," she said, "can I reproduce his voice?" "Yes." "Of course." She gave us a sample, claiming that liberty was a boon to all persons everywhere. She delivered it in his rich deep baritone. "Good," said Alex. "Perfect. I'm going to want you to do something for me."
"If it is within my capacity, sir."
The rooms were smaller than those you'd get in a hotel of a similar class groundside. But they were as attractive. Everything was done in silk and lavender. We even had a balcony overlooking the concourse. Above us, the overhead was transparent and provided a spectacular view of the outside. At the moment, we were looking out at the rim of the world, illuminated by a setting-or rising-sun. I wasn't sure which. I walked out thro
ugh a glass door and inspected it. The balconies were connected by a narrow ledge. I looked at it for a long time and decided even Krestoff would not have been able to negotiate it. I went back inside, closed the glass door, and drew the curtains. We talked for a while. Watched a report on the evacuation. Everybody was excited by the help coming in from the Confederacy and the Assemblage. The shield barely made an appearance in the conversations, other than as an example of the desperation of world leaders. "It was never plausible, Jay," said one commentator. "They'd have had to pull the entire evacuation fleet to work on it, with next to no chance of success. I think the route they've chosen, moving as many people off-world as they can, and concentrating on building shelters, is the way to go."
We didn't talk much, and when we did, we kept our voices down. We did not want anyone outside the door to realize there was a second person in the room. We didn't really expect to fool Wexler, but it could do no harm. I eventually drifted off to sleep in my chair. When I woke, Alex pointed out that it was early morning on the station, but we were in dinner mode. "Sure," I said. He picked up the hotel guide. "Maybe we should have it sent up." "Why? I thought we decided we were safer in public places." "We have to go out in the corridor and take the elevator. If they're going to try anything, I want them to have to come to us." "Okay." "And we might try just ordering one dinner. Mine." "Because I'm in my room." "Good. Yes." He called down. Ordered the special, with a glass of white wine, and a cinnamon bun. We waited, heard the sound of the elevator, heard footsteps in the hall. Then a door opened somewhere, and everything was quiet again. We went through another false alarm before finally getting a gentle tap at the door. Alex signaled me to move to the bathroom. When I was out of sight, he opened the door. "Good evening, sir." The voice was not Wexler's. Alex moved back out of the way. An attendant carried a tray and a small bottle of wine into the room. He left the door ajar behind him, and I angled myself to watch. He set the tray on the coffee table, opened the wine bottle, and produced a glass, which he filled. He set down a cloth napkin and the silverware. Alex tipped him, he said thank you, and was gone, closing the door behind him. Alex sat down in front of it. "Well," he said, "that didn't work." "No, it didn't." He looked down at the dinner. Steaming fish, a vegetable, and toast. "I'll split it with you." "Or perhaps with me ." The voice came from the far end of the room. Krestoff.
She stood just inside the balcony curtains. Holding a blaster. I'd underestimated her. "Don't make any sudden moves," she said. "Kolpath, come out here, where I can see you better. Yes, that's good. Right there. "Benedict, get up, do it slowly, and go to the door." Alex pushed the tray aside and got to his feet. I was still standing. "This isn't a good idea," he said. "You're just getting yourself in deeper." "Do as I say. Just turn the knob so you release the catch. Don't try to open the door." Alex complied. "Now step back into the center of the room. With your little sex object." She spared me a brief smile. Alex came back in. The door opened, and Wexler entered. He was carrying a bottle. Hard liquor of some sort. "Alex," he said. "And Chase. It's so good to see you again." He pushed the door shut and took a scrambler from his pocket. "I was afraid for a while that you might not come back." "You're going to get caught," said Alex. "Why go through this?" "I'll get a measure of satisfaction seeing you pay the price." He looked at the sofa and the uneaten meal. "Please, both of you, sit. Finish what you were doing." We stood looking back at him.
"Sit."
We sat. Krestoff strolled in, leaving the balcony door ajar. She was grinning at me. "Kolpath," she said. " You're the one I've been looking for. Mikel, I'd like this one for myself. Can we arrange it?" She kept her eyes locked on me. "How about that, honey? Just you and me?" She put the blaster down on the seat of one of the chairs. "We'll put the toys away and settle things up close." Wexler shook his head. "Maria," he said, "don't get careless. You'll get your chance." She recovered her weapon and took a seat on the edge of the chair. Alex paid no attention to her. "What exactly do you want?" "You were out there when they were loading the Quevalla . You should have a sense by now of the pain you've caused." "Don't be absurd, Doctor. Some of those tears expressed relief. People getting their kids out of harm's way." "I didn't mean them , you imbecile. Those scenes are recorded. Broadcast all over the world. How many people do you think are watching whose kids won't be moved? Who are still going to be sitting in the cities when the Thunderbolt comes? They have three years of misery in front of them. All because you and your partner wanted to go hunting for glory. Damn you." His gaze now encompassed me as well. "Damn you both." "I think you're getting a little overwrought." "Two billion people will not get off-world no matter how big the fleet. Two billion , Alex. You've taken three years of normal living from each of them. Do the math." "Keeping this kind of secret was not your call." I could hear Wexler breathing. "Alex, are you really so stupid that you think I made that decision on my own?" "I know there were others. That's not the point." "It's a democratic government. Or was . I suspect it'll be coming apart now." Alex tried the toast. "You're implying Kilgore knew all along." "Am I really? Maybe you're not so slow-witted after all." He sighed. "Well, I suppose we should get on with it." Alex lowered his gaze to the scrambler. "You're not really going to use that thing in here, are you?" Wexler shook his head. "Of course not. Unless I'm forced to. But you're going to have an accident." "Oh? What did you have in mind?" "You're not aware of it at the moment, but you and the young lady here are having a party. At this very moment. Unfortunately, you're both drinking too much. And, as these things will happen, she's half out of her clothes." He turned to me. "Kolpath, take off your blouse." I hesitated.
" Now , honey," said Krestoff. I opened it. I had nothing beneath it. Wexler picked up two water glasses from a cabinet, opened the bottle, and filled them with a cocoa-colored liquid. He set them down on the coffee table. "This is korala . It's rather strong. A glass of it will leave you both a bit more accommodating than you are at the moment." He looked back at me. "Please, Kolpath, get out of that terrible-looking blouse." He stood back while Alex reached for the glasses and passed one to me. "What will happen here is that you two are enjoying yourselves, but unfortunately you will drink too much, and, regrettably, you'll both fall from the balcony." He shrugged. "It's a sad end for two who have done so much for Salud Afar, but you will have the consolation of dying in each other's arms. And, in addition, I think you will find the korala will ease the trauma." "We're not lovers," I said. "Really? Well, more's the shame. But nobody would believe that. Now, please, my dear, the blouse. I really must insist." The blouse was tucked into my slacks. "Do you mind if I get up? I can't get it off sitting here." He considered it. "Of course," he said. "But do please be careful." I wanted to clear my angle on Krestoff. I didn't want to have to climb over the coffee table to get to her. Alex also stood. Wexler signaled for him to sit back down, but Alex ignored him. "Whatever happened to the hero of the Revolution?" he said. "How did you become a cheap bureaucrat? How did you get bought off?" "That's enough," said Wexler. Alex crossed behind me, clearing his own angle on Wexler. "You've no compunctions about sacrificing anybody for your bosses, do you? Even Vicki Greene." Vicki Greene was the start button for the AI. Kilgore's voice broke in: "Wexler, have you no decency at all? How dare you?" The voice was calm, angry, disappointed. Not bad for an AI. It distracted them both for the moment we needed. I was across the room before Krestoff could turn her attention back to me. I knocked her off the chair. She tried to bring the blaster around as she hit the floor, but I grabbed the hand and simultaneously got in a punch to the gut. She doubled up, and the weapon blew out the ceiling. We traded punches, and I smashed the hand with the weapon against the wall. Above us, somebody yelled hey . And an alarm went off. The blaster came loose. We rolled around on the floor, each of us trying to get hold of it. Finally, she kicked it away. I grabbed the wine bottle and brought it down on her head. She hit me with a lamp. "Bitch," she said. Even under those circumstances, she kept her voice level. We got more or less to our feet
and traded a few punches. Then she fell over a footstool, and I got to the blaster, scooped it up, and turned to see how Alex was doing. Not so well, it turned out. His fight had stumbled out onto the balcony. Although Wexler was the older and smaller of the two, he looked considerably more experienced in personal combat than Alex was. Meanwhile, Krestoff was getting to her feet again, making comments about my parentage. I leveled the weapon at her. "Stay put," I said. She glared at me. "Afraid to take me on?" she asked. "Hell," I said, "I'm tired of you." Wexler's scrambler had fallen to the floor. I kept her at a distance while I picked it up. I was trying to juggle the two weapons and change the setting on the scrambler to non-lethal. She saw her chance and jumped me. I whacked her with the blaster. She went to her knees, and I hit her again. It was a good clean shot.
Wexler had Alex bent over the balcony rail. Beyond them I could see the dome and the sky, with Callistra just about to set behind the planet. Somewhere music was playing. The alarm was still wailing, and someone began pounding on the door. I could hear voices in the corridor. Alex and Wexler banged against the rail, creating the possibility they might both go over. I got the setting
I wanted on the scrambler and leveled it at Wexler. "Back off," I said. "Let him go." The guy had a suicide impulse. He made an effort to throw Alex over. I didn't want to fire because I couldn't be sure which one I'd hit. So instead I went after him, reversed the weapon, and hit him in the head with it. Anybody who's used a scrambler knows it's light, and hitting somebody with it doesn't do much more than make the target angry. Wexler slammed me with an elbow and sent me reeling. Then he turned back to Alex. The guy was a nut. But Alex got a punch in and threw him momentarily off-balance. Meantime, I guess I'd had enough. I charged full tilt into Wexler. I'm not sure whether I intended to push him over the side. I was in a rage by then, and I remember thinking there was a chance he'd land on somebody. Whatever really caused it, he crashed back against the rail and grabbed Alex. I banged into him again and apparently caught him off-balance. Either that or I was stronger than I realized. He went over the top, flailed wildly, grabbed me, and very nearly took me with him. He had my arm. Clung to it, the whole time screaming at me. I was hanging on to the railing, halfway over, when Alex came to my rescue. He pulled me back. Hung on while Wexler began to slip away. Ignored him when he screamed for help. Then he was gone, one last dying shriek, suddenly cut off. I stood there for a few seconds, not saying anything. I looked to see whether Wexler had done any damage below. A crowd was gathering, but nobody else was down. Somebody was still banging on the door. I went back inside and opened it.
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