Death Dance

by Jack McKinney

  Karbarra or Praxis. All things point to the possibility of our being able to regroup and restrengthen ourselves there, even if we will have to suit up for the visit. God knows Lisa and I need some uninterrupted time together. We spoke of dreams tonight, and made love like we haven't in far too long. It comes down to dreams in the end-holding fast to them no matter what else is thrown in your path. I want to get back to that place in my life, and Garuda sounds like it was made to order.

  From the collected journals of Admiral Rick Hunter

  Once again the Expeditionary Mission's Plenipotentiary Council found itself in extraordinary session, the third time in as many days. Ex-colonel Jonathan Wolff and his small band of rebels had stolen a prototype warship and folded from the Valivarre system, after assassinating the Invid Regent. The ruler's body had been taken back to the fleet flagship by his retinue of scientists and soldiers, who were promising a swift and violent response to the Humans' treachery. Ships under General Edwards's command had chased the pirated cruiser, but stopped short of following it into hyperspace. It was believed, although hardly certain at this point, that Wolff was returning to Praxis; but the Sentinels' next destination was anyone's guess. And if their movements were open to question, their motives were positively baffling. Edwards was arguing this very point in the council chambers now, moving through the room like a trial lawyer, his speech angry and impassioned, his reasoning all but unassailable.

  "Furthermore," he said, a forefinger raised, "it's my belief that Wolff's story was a ruse. The Sentinels sent Wolff here to kill the Regent. All his talk about the destruction of the Farrago and the rescue mission to Praxis was engineered as a diversion."

  "That's arrant nonsense," Lang objected, getting to his feet and turning to face the rest of his group. "It was the Regent who first informed us of the destruction of the ship-"

  "They allowed his troops to destroy the ship," Edwards cut in, but Thurgood Stinson quickly waved him silent.

  "What's more," Lang said after settling his gaze on Edwards, "the Sentinels had no way of knowing the Regent's fleet was here."

  Edwards laughed. "Need I point out that they could have been monitoring our transmissions, even while remaining incommunicado?"

  "But to what end, General?" Lang asked. "Why would they knowingly sabotage the negotiations? Really, this makes no sense whatsoever, and I would caution the council to understand that General Edwards is offering us nothing more than an interpretation of the facts."

  "The facts, Doctor, are that the Regent is dead and one of our ships has been stolen. What more do you require?"

  Tight-lipped, Lang took his seat. Senator Longchamps cleared his throat meaningfully. "The council appreciates Dr. Lang's reminder, but I for one would like to hear the general's assessment of the Sentinels' motives."

  Edwards sat in silence for a moment, then stood up and said, "They've become a private army. They've liberated Karbarra-Praxis, for all we know-and their plan is to continue in this vein until the entire local group is theirs to command. In the meantime, our efforts here will have been neatly undermined. The Invid will return in force and in the end it will be the Sentinels who will rescue us."

  "This is too much," Justine Huxley interjected. "Admiral Hunter would never stoop to such measures."

  "Then why did he resign his command?" Edwards threw back at her. "And why is it that the whole RDF apparat decided to follow his lead." Edwards enumerated on his fingers: "The Skull, the Wolff Pack, Vince and Jean Grant, even the Tiresian, Cabell. Hunter didn't like the idea of answering to the council's demands, and now he's out for himself."

  Edwards returned to his chair, leaving the council members to argue among themselves. In the seat adjacent, General Reinhardt wore a look of complete disgust.

  After a few minutes of deliberation, Longchamps announced, "The council is not yet fully convinced of the scenario you detail, General Edwards, nor of your interpretations of the Sentinels' 'master plan,' if you will."

  Edwards scowled, waiting for the senator to continue.

  "However, the fact remains that the actions of ex-Colonel Wolff, whatever their motivation, have placed us in a serious predicament. The council wishes to know if the Invid commanders have indicated to you any steps that can be taken to offset this injustice."

  Edwards stood up, suppressing a self-satisfied grin. "Right now they seem willing to accept the facts just as we've presented them: Wolff acted on his own. But I must include this caveat: these are relatively low-echelon personnel we're dealing with, and I'm certain that once the Regis hears of this, we'll see renewed fighting-perhaps on a scale more reminiscent of the Robotech War than anything we've experienced here."

  He waited for this to sink in before continuing. "As for what we can do, I would suggest that short of a preemptive strike against their forces right now, or the capture of the Sentinels, we devote all our efforts to the construction of a fleet of ships to rival their own."

  Again, there were arguments and objections from various council members, but Longchamps silenced these with his gavel. "Would you be willing to oversee this project,

  General, if the council so votes?"

  Edwards inclined his head slightly. "I would be honored, Senator. Of course, I would require the full cooperation of Dr. Lang's Robotech teams and control of the mining operations on Fantoma."

  "Naturally," Longchamps said. "We will adjourn to consider our decision."

  Edwards grinned in spite of himself. He shifted his gaze slightly to show Lang the cold hostility in his eye. Lang tried to return it, but could not.

  The round had gone to Edwards.

  In his hive complex on Optera, the Invid Regent sat alone with his two pet Hellcats, too stunned by the reports of his simulagent's murder to speak. He held his snaillike head in his hands, sunk deep into a sense of despair that was entirely new to him. Once before he had experienced such torment: when his wife had confessed to him her love for Zor. Betrayal, he thought, in the soft glow of the room's commo sphere.

  "Your Highness, shall I give the order to attack?" a lieutenant repeated cautiously.

  The Regent regarded the soldier's image in the sphere and sighed heavily. "No," he answered quietly. "Return the fleet to Optera, and tell no one that I live. It may benefit me to remain hidden for a while longer."

  "But, Your Highness, are the Humans to go unpunished? And what of Tesla?"

  The Regent could feel the lieutenant's anger, and it was enough to refresh him momentarily. He had not been completely abandoned, then; loyalty still lived.

  "For the moment do nothing more than let our intentions be known. Inform the Human high command that we hold them responsible for the...Regent's death, and that terms for a cease-fire will not be discussed until the Sentinels have been brought to justice."

  "My liege," the lieutenant returned with a note of reluctance. He offered salute and shut down the link.

  The Regent placed a hand on the homed shoulder of one of the Inorganics, on its haunches beside his chair. "My pet," he said aloud, "will you, too, betray me someday?"

  Tesla had murdered.

  He found it almost inconceivable. Had the Sentinels put him up to it somehow, or, worse

  still, the Regis? They were known to have seen one another on Praxis...Had she promised him something then, her favorite son? Certainly Tesla had undergone some sort of change, if he was to believe the words of the simulagent's guards. Perhaps he and the Regis had made a pact to rule in his place, and as a sign of good faith she had evolved him some. On Praxis? he wondered. Had she gone there to carry on with her dangerous Genesis Pit experiments? He would know soon enough, if her ships suddenly showed up in Opteraspace.

  But in the meantime the Regent thought it best to allow the Humans to go on thinking that one of their own had assassinated the simulagent. If, as they maintained, the group had acted alone, it showed a definite carelessness on the council's part. But if this Edwards had permitted it to hap
pen-even engineered it, as the Regent was inclined to believe-then the murder had more sinister implications, it was as if Edwards knew all along that the Regent had sent an imposter in his place, and the murder was the Human's way of responding to the substitution.

  He made a note to treat Edwards differently the next time.

  The simulagent hadn't been able to learn anything about the Masters' destination, or the location of the Humans' Earth; but it was possible that his death would have a positive side effect. Obviously the Humans were anxious to sue for peace, and although he couldn't grant them this just yet, that fact eased his concern about their presence in the Quadrant. And now it was likely that others besides Edwards would be willing to turn against the Sentinels.

  The Regent called up a starmap in the sphere and leaned forward to study it. "Garuda," he decided after a moment, that's where they would be heading. A miserable world if there ever was one, a world that had its own way of dealing with intruders...The Regent had recalled all of his warships from the planet to strengthen the fleet he had sent to Optera; but there was still a small garrison of soldiers and scientists there tending the orchards and farms and supervising the transport of the nutrient. Sufficiently forewarned, they just might be able to succeed where larger forces had failed.

  The Regent rubbed his hands together in a gesture of renewed excitement. He grunted to the beasts that flanked his chair. Perhaps it wasn't so bad being dead after all.

  When news of the Plenipotentiary Council's decision was released, the Expeditionary mission found itself more divided than ever. Everyone on Base Tirol and aboard the SDF-3 now felt compelled to take a stand. The council, by majority if not by unanimous decision, had effectively branded former admirals Hunter and Hayes, along with the rest of the Human and XT Sentinels, outlaws. In due time a ship would be detailed for their capture, but presently they were to receive no help from RDF personnel, and anyone found aiding or abetting the Sentinels' cause would be subject to prosecution to the full

  extent of the law. Moreover, General Edwards was being placed in full command of the RDF; he would be overseeing both the mining op and construction projects, and his staff would be supervising all aspects of civil defense, including minor police actions.

  Lang, Exedore, Huxley, Obstat, Reinhardt and a few others had become a cabal overnight, and Lang realized that it wouldn't be long before Edwards's Ghost Riders would be keeping watch on their every move-if in fact this wasn't already the case. There were enough unanswered questions about the Regent's assassination to convince Lang that Edwards had had a hand in the affair. He surmised, too, that Edwards was aware of the assistance Lang had rendered Wolff; but if he had any proof, he was probably saving it for the next occasion the two men went toe-to-toe. Lang could only hope that Wolff had reached Praxis in time to rescue the Sentinels, because in every other way, the plan had done more harm than good. However, by taking such a hard-line stance, the council had inadvertently weakened Edwards-perhaps not now, but in the long run, when those loyal to Hunter would step forward in a show of strength.

  Lang was in his quarters, compiling a mental list of the men and women who could be counted on, when the door tone sounded and Lynn-Minmei begged entry. She was the last person Lang wanted to see, but as he thought about her a plan came to mind. He had persuaded her once into accepting Janice as her partner; now perhaps he could talk her into assuming the android's role as a spy.

  "Dr. Lang, I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said, coming through the door. "I just had to talk to someone."

  He could see she was frantic. "Don't be silly, my dear. Sit down. Can I fix you something?"

  "No," she said absently. "No, thank you. I just need to know if it's true, Dr. Lang-what they're saying about Jonathan and Rick."

  Lang sat down, even though Minmei remained standing. "What do you think, Minmei?"

  She threw her hands up in a nervous gesture. "I don't know what to think! General Edwards says one thing, you say another..." She looked directly at him. "Most of my old friends won't even talk to me anymore. And the way Janice acted..."

  He offered her an understanding nod. "Well, maybe you've just ended up on the wrong side somehow. And everyone's waiting for you to return."

  She sat down, facing him. "That's what I want to know: am I on the wrong side? People are saying the most horrible things about General Edwards. But I know him, I know what kind of man he is."

  "You may think you know him, Minmei, but I assure you, you don't. It's..." Lang fumbled for

  the words, "it's as though he has some sort of personal vendetta against Rick. I can't even begin to understand it. I only know that he has turned the council against your friends, and I know they'd be crushed to learn that you're not supporting them."

  Minmei bit her lip. "And that's just what Jonathan's going to tell them, too."

  Lang thought he detected a flash of anger behind the words; he started to reply, but she cut him off, the anger visible now.

  "That snake! Who is he to be calling people names? He's a liar!"

  "Minmei-"

  "Mr. Charm," she said, getting up from the couch. "He should talk about loyalty. Ha! What does he know about anything?" She shot Lang a look. "What do any of you know?"

  Lang was never good at dealing with theatrics; he knew this much about himself and kept still.

  "Liars, murderers, outlaws," Minmei was saying. "Things were just too peaceful for them on Tirol. They needed to go find themselves a war."

  "That's Edwards talking," Lang managed.

  "This is me talking!" she screamed at him. "I hate you! I hate the whole bunch of you!"

  She began to cry into her hands. Lang made a move toward her, but she was gone by the time he reached the door.

  "Go ahead, say it," Rick said to Lisa. "I could feel you saying it clear across the hold. So let's clear the air."

  She looked at him and frowned. "What are you talking about? Say what?"

  They were in the small cabinspace that had been set aside as their quarters aboard the SDF-7. The dreadnought was approaching Garuda from the far side of the planet's massive sun after a brief period in hyperspace.

  "You wanna say 'I told you so,'" Rick continued. "Edwards is getting stronger and now we're in no position to stop him. If we had remained on Tirol, all this would never have happened, and we'd probably have a truce worked out and be a long way toward repairing the SDF-3." Rick snorted. "Anything I've left out?"

  "I'm not saying a word, Rick," she told him. "You're doing such a fine job without me."

  "All right, so you think I made a big mistake, and maybe a part of me agrees with you. But the truth is that I would have been going out of my skull back there, and at least now I feel we are accomplishing something-maybe not for ourselves exactly, but for Lron and Crysta and Kami and everyone. You can't argue with that."

  Lisa shrugged. "Who's arguing?"

  "And another thing." Rick put his hands to his hips. "You figure that just because I'm suddenly all gung ho and take-charge that I really am a commander after all. But I'll tell you something: the only reason I'm okay with the role is because there's no damned council telling me what to think. We've got a democracy here, not some red-tape portable government, and that suits me fine."

  "Well, I-"

  "So don't go thinking that I'm going to ask to be reinstated when all this blows over."

  "Do you think it will, Rick?"

  He heard the desperation in her tone and it took the wind right out of his sails. He leaned over, took her hand, and kissed it. "You bet," he said softly. "And we'll get back on course."

  She reached out to stroke his arm. "I don't want us to grow apart, Rick, and I feel that happening sometimes."

  He was tempted to say something about Lisa's involvement with Gnea and Bela, but held his tongue. "I won't let that happen."

  She sighed fretfully. "We used to have so many dreams-remember?"

  "Of course I remember,
" he said, trying to sound cheerful. "And we'll make every one of them come true." He squatted down to face her. "Look, let's just see what happens on Garuda. From what Kami says, the Invid never actually conquered the place. And from what Wolff told me, it sounds like they pulled all their troop carriers away. They've got a small garrison there, and that's it. Maybe there won't have to be much fighting. We'll get to have some PT."

  She laughed lightly. "Now there's a dream if I ever heard one."

  "You'll see," he said, bringing her up into his embrace.

  In the cruiser's med room, Jean Grant was trying to figure out what to do with the now-smooth, football-sized crystal on the gurney-the Spherisian infant Miriya and Bela had brought up from Praxis. The two women were watching Jean's every move, while Teal sat quietly in a corner of the room. Jean gave the crystal a gentle turn; it felt cool to the touch and seemingly inanimate, but scans had indicated a high level of bioenergy, or at least an approximation thereof. God knew the thing was growing fast enough! Jean sensed Miriya and Bela's eyes on her and said, "Well, what do you two expect me to do with this, this...child? She turned sharply to Teal. "Teal, get over here! At least tell me what I'm supposed to do."