Even if that meant going extravehicular.
Sarna took over the controls while Wolff suited up. Praxis turned below them like a cataracted eye. The telepath strapped in, bringing the Alpha as close as she could to the module's scarred hull; then Wolff blew the canopy. He floated up and out of the VT on a tether line, took hold of the side of the pinwheeling ship, and tried to center his attention on the alien external control panel. Sarna spoke to him through the helmet relays, avoiding the net in favor of frequencies of a cerebral sort. Wolff heard her thoughts as spoken words as he fumbled with Spherian switches designed for hands more sensitive than his own.
But a short while later the hatch was sliding open and pocketing itself in the crystalline hull. Sarna engaged the Alpha's attitude jets and began to maneuver the ship to safety.
The Beta was inside, empty; and fortunately, Wolff decided, there was no welcoming party there to greet them. Down on the hold floor now he armed himself with a rifle and two handguns; Sarna had perfect recall of the module's corridor and compartment layout, so she led the way. They were barely out of the docking area when the ship lurched.
"We're leaving orbit," Sarna told him.
Wolff felt the rumble of the module's drives ladder its way up his legs. Sarna hovered along the corridor at an increased pace, then abruptly right-angled herself into a large cabinspace and told Wolff strap himself into one of the seats.
Wolff regarded the acceleration couch and threw her a questioning look.
"We're preparing to fold," she told him.
"They've what!"
"They folded," Vince Grant repeated. "The module's gone."
Rick leaned against one of the GMU command-center consoles to catch his breath. He had run all the way from the cave only to hear the bad news as soon as he came through the hatch.
"But, but, did they-"
"Not one word," Jean cut in. "The last message we had was from Wolff. He was sure something had happened to Janice."
"Tesla," Rick said, biting out the name.
Vince nodded. "That's my guess."
"But where's the Alpha now?" Rick added, looking back and forth between the two of them.
Jean pushed herself back from the console, her hands on the arms of the chair. "That's the weird part. The Alpha made it aboard."
Rick fell silent; it felt for a moment as though they were speaking to him in a foreign
tongue. He shook his head, hoping everything would settle into some sort of order. "Maybe it wasn't Tesla. Maybe Janice knows something we don't..."
"Okay," Vince said.
"And maybe she managed to get word to Wolff, but he couldn't reach us..."
"Okay, again."
"And maybe they had to fold because they realized there was no way to get everyone offworld using the VTs..."
"Uh huh." Vince folded his arms. "So they take off for Karbarra or Tirol, figuring we'll be able to wait it out."
Rick left it unanswered. There was no need, anyway, now that the tremors had recommenced. A steady, thunderous roar filtered into the room; somewhere nearby, mountain ranges were beginning to crumble.
It was a short jump. Wolff could feel himself coming out of the fold's dizzying effects, and was on his feet even before Sarna had furnished him with an all-clear sign.
When the two of them burst onto the module's bridge, they found Tesla and Burak seated at the controls. Janice was off to one side, asleep, Wolff thought.
Tesla and Burak both swung around as they heard the hiss of the hatch. The Invid's snout dropped open when he saw Wolff standing there armed to the teeth, and he immediately fell backward against his coconspirator, hoping Wolff would read it as Burak attempting a capture.
The two XTs rolled across one of the console benches and down onto the floor. Taken completely off guard, Burak didn't know what had hit him. But Tesla was forcing himself into a subordinate position now, and ordering Burak to grab him by the neck.
"Fight, you idiot!" Tesla was whispering. "You've go to make them believe you had nothing to do with this!"
Burak finally got the message and threw his hands around the Invid's thick neck. The two of them butted heads and snarled and cursed at each other. Burak was working his thumbs up Tesla's snout by the time Wolff succeeded in pulling him away.
"Back off!" Wolff told him, brandishing one of the handguns. "Tesla, on your feet!"
Sarna hovered over to the com.
The Invid raised his hands, but remained on his knees, pleading with Wolff not to kill him, and confessing to his attempt to seize the ship.
"And if it wasn't for this horned fiend I'd have-"
"Cut the crap," Wolff said. He turned around to Burak, who was trying his best to look innocent, even heroic. "You threw in with this slug."
"I didn't!" Burak argued. "He put a spell on us!"
"A spell?" Wolff almost laughed. "You mean he made you do it?"
Burak pointed to Janice. "Ask her if you don't believe me."
Janice had reactivated herself. She looked at Wolff and said, "They were in it together-"
"Liar!" Burak yelled.
"-but they couldn't seem to agree on a destination. So I made the decision for them."
Tesla and Burak traded looks.
"Where are we?" Wolff said, as confused as anyone else.
"Fantoma," Janice said, and Tesla fainted.
CHAPTER FIVE
Betray (I looked it up): to deliver to an enemy by treachery or disloyalty; to be unfaithful in; to seduce and desert...Is this what I'm guilty of? Have I seduced and deserted him? Am I delivering Jonathan over to an enemy? Have I been unfaithful? As I repeat the word over and over to myself, it begins to lose all meaning; it becomes a meaningless sound, a bit of Tiresian or Praxian babble. But then I begin to think of it as a kind of war cry, a sound that echoes back and forth across the terrain of my life and these twenty years of bloodshed. If I am a betrayer, I am also the betrayed. I am the SDFs-1, 2, and 3; I am all the councils and all the generals. I am the dead, the War itself.
An excerpt from the journal of Lynn-Minmei
With Rick and Lisa and all the other men and women who had joined the Sentinels' cause missing and presumed dead, there were precious few people Dr. Lang could trust, let alone seek out for company or old-fashioned good counsel. Things had not been the
same between Lang and Harry Penn since Karen left, and of the Plenipotentiary members, only Justine Huxley and Niles Obstat were still receptive. Edwards had influenced the rest to one degree or another, except of course for Exedore, who had become Lang's unofficial ally and close friend. Even Lynn-Minmei had been turned-by what, Lang wouldn't even try to imagine. Lang, however, was well accustomed to isolation; so even when it wasn't self-imposed he could get by. He had been managing to hold his own with the council, in spite of Edwards, and at the same time was overseeing both the mining operations on Fantoma and the repairs to the SDF-3. But the Regent's visit had introduced something new and threatening to the horizon: the possibility of a partnership between Edwards and the Invid. Lang had seen Protoculture shape stranger events these past twenty years, but none so potentially dangerous-to the Expeditionary mission, to Tirol, to the Earth itself.
Something within him refused to accept Hunter's death; he knew he wasn't standing alone here, but he had nevertheless been powerless thus far in persuading the council to launch a rescue ship-even now when there were several available with the capability for the required spacefold, some running on Sekiton, some on the recently mined monopole fuels. But it was the Regent's behavior at the introductory summit sessions that finally convinced him to take matters into his own hands. And it was that decision that brought him to Fantoma. He had allowed his godson and apprentice, Scott Bernard, to accompany him, but left Exedore behind on the fortress to safeguard their mutual interests while the Regent's fleet remained anchored in Fantomaspace. The crew of the newly christened prototype dreadnought he had commandeered-th
e unnamed SDF-7-was one that had been handpicked for the journey after a bit of chicanery by himself and General Reinhardt; they were a capable and loyal lot, commanded by Major John Carpenter, who was being considered as a candidate to head up the first return mission to Earth.
Lang's reasons for choosing Fantoma could be summed up in one word: Breetai. He was aware of the hostilities that had cropped up between Breetai and Edwards over the issue of the Regent's arrival, and he knew precisely where the Zentraedi's loyalties lay. And where Breetai went, so followed his hundred-strong cadre of sixty-foot biogenetically-engineered warriors-a force to be reckoned with no matter what the council's ultimate decisions might be.
No sooner did Lang step from the shuttle that had ferried his party to the surface of the ringed giant than Breetai insisted on escorting him through a tour of the mining complex. It, was obvious that the Zentraedi was taking some pride in his accomplishments, so Lang didn't offer any resistance. But the opportunity to discuss the pressing issues that had brought him here didn't present itself until much later on, and by then Lang was nearly feverish. Breetai had led them to a massive Quonset-style structure that served as the colony's command and control center-the only such building in New Zarkopolis designed to accommodate both giants and Humans in relative comfort. There, Lang reviewed what had been said during the so-called truce talks, and what reported statements had been exchanged between Edwards and the Regent during the subsequent one-on-one sessions. Breetai said little, preferring instead to listen or grunt an occasional exclamation
of anger or surprise. But when Lang finished-with an audible sigh-the Zentraedi collapsed his steepled fingers and leaned forward in his chair, gazing intently into the Humans' balcony area.
"One part of me wants to blame Admiral Hunter for allowing things to come to this," he told Lang. "But if anyone can appreciate the unpredictable nature of these things, I can." Lang didn't have to be reminded of the bizarre reversals the Zentraedi commander had witnessed and suffered through; and in this the scientist and warrior were brothers of a sort. "I suggest we take steps to secure our position against Edwards."
"Yes, but how?" Lang asked.
"Just as you have begun," Breetai said, motioning to where Carpenter and his exec were seated. "And you must arrange for additional mecha to be sent here..."
"Disguised as mining devices perhaps."
"Exactly. We have our own ship, our own mecha, but we must have our own weapons. New Zarkopolis could become our base of operation. And of course we possess something even more important than firepower..."
"The ore," Lang completed.
Breetai nodded. He had his mouth opened to say something more when a Human at the comm console interrupted him. "Report from the fortress," the tech announced, straining to hear the communiqu? "A ship has entered the system. Colonel Wolff and some of the Sentinels are said to be aboard."
"Thank God," Lang said, throwing his head back.
Breetai wore an enigmatic look. He touched his faceplate in an absent manner and rose from the chair to tower over the "Micronian" balcony.
"The Protoculture is at work again. We call out and it answers."
"Yes," Lang directed up to him. "And would that we could always predict its response."
Word of the drive module's approach spread to all stations and was relayed down to Tirol's surface. In her canteen in Tiresia, Minmei swooned upon receiving the news. She had returned to the surface only hours before, and now she tried to collect her thoughts before hastening back to the city's shuttle staging area.
At the same time in his quarters aboard the SDF-3, T. R. Edwards was in the midst of a
session with the false Regent.
"It seems you were a bit premature in reporting the destruction of the Farrago" he said with a maleovent grin. Even the Invid's black, unreadable eyes failed to conceal a sense of shock; but the simulagent quickly rallied.
"And perhaps the data you supplied was in error," he countered angrily.
The Invid imposter had taken it upon himself to have one more go at winning Edwards over, despite the Regent's orders to the contrary. He had given careful thought to the Regent's harsh criticisms and was convinced that a follow-up discussion was in order. He now thought he had a clear understanding of the concept of sublety; but like Tesla he was not big on surprises, and the sudden appearance of the Spherisian module had completely undermined his efforts.
Edwards was waving a forefinger at him. "There, there, Your Highness, no call for insults, is there? Just when we were getting along so famously." Then Edwards's face grew serious, his one eye cold. "Besides, it's just a couple of our people and one of yours. There were bound to be survivors."
"One of mine?" the simulagent asked, alarmed.
"Tesla-isn't that his name? Or didn't you know he was aboard?"
The Invid curled one his sensors. "You failed to mention that."
Edwards shrugged. "What's the difference? He's alive." And so is Wolff, Edwards thought. He glanced across the desk at the Invid, beginning to tire of the game. Would this Tesla be able to confirm his suspicions? he wondered, making a note to have the returnees monitored at all times. "Now, what was it you were saying before?"
The simulagent tore himself from concerns about the possible consequences of encountering Tesla. "I-I was about to make you an offer, I think."
Edwards waited for him to continue, then laughed. "Well, go ahead-let's lay our cards on the table."
The simulagent held up a hand. "Three planets-yours for the choosing. Free access to all the other worlds I control-a limited partnership-and last, my help in realizing your, dreams, shall we say."
Edwards felt his jaw. "In exchange for the brain..."
"And Tesla..."
"And Tesla."
"And one thing more."
Edwards's brow went up.
"I want Minmei."
Wolff and company stepped out of the module and onto the deck of the SDF-3 docking bay to the sound of cheers-a few, at any rate, from a section led on by Emil Lang, Lord Exedore, and several staff officers. And it was Lang who clasped Wolff's hand and wrist, as if he had never been so happy to see someone. Behind him, Janice was getting the same treatment; Sarna, Burak, and Tesla were all but ignored.
"What the hell's going on?" Wolff asked the scientist straightaway. "You've got half the Invid fleet out there!"
"There's much to discuss," Lang shouted as press and officers jostled one another to get close. "But tell me-the others-Rick and Lisa-"
"They're alive," Wolff returned, buffeted about by the crowd. "But they won't be much longer if we don't get a rescue ship to Praxis."
Lang frowned. "Well, we have to see about that."
"What do you mean, 'see about that'?" Wolff gestured back to the module. "We didn't have enough fuel to jump back, but Praxis-"
"Things have changed," Lang told him, just loud enough to be heard. "We have to talk."
Wolff felt something acidic wash through him. All the while he had been answering Lang's questions, his eyes had been darting around the hold, searching for some sign of Minmei. Now, after seeing a hundred Invid ships anchored in Fantomaspace, and with Lang's portentous whisperings in his ear, he found her, and the sight only served to double his dread. She was standing alongside Edwards, among that unresponsive group, offering him a weak and pathetic smile.
"Come, Colonel," Lang was saying, one hand at Wolff's elbow, "we must hurry."
Wolff pulled away and craned his neck to catch another sight of Minmei; but Edwards's contingent was already leaving the bay, and she was lost in the crowd.
"Listen, Lang, I need a minute," Wolff said, up on his toes now.
Lang turned around to track Wolff's gaze, then he took hold of him more firmly, more urgently. "The council is ready to hear you. Everything hinges on this."
"Look, I just wanted to-"
"I know. I understand," Lang added after a moment. "But things have c
hanged, man. Aren't you listening to me? Think about your friends."
Wolff started to say something rash, but checked himself, slicking back his hair in a gesture of exhaustion. "I'm sorry, Lang." He turned and motioned Janice and Sarna forward, then pointed to Burak and Tesla. "I want these two placed in lockup." Peripherally, Wolff caught Lang's look. "I'll explain," he told him.
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