"Yes, and it's killing them, Veidt. It's not providing them with psychedelic trips or allies or personal power. It's draining the life from them while we sit here and...and-"
"Come on, Jean," Vince said. "You're doing what you can."
Cabell tugged at his beard. "There is a treatment, of course." He turned to Veidt as Vince and Jean's eyes fixed on him.
"I will be succinct," the Haydonite began. "On my world there are devices capable of reversing the Garudan effect. 'Mental illness,' as some of your disks name it, is unknown to us; it is as archaic a thing as your own smallpox."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Jean said, looking up at Vince. "Our work here is finished, isn't it? Garuda's liberated."
Vince removed his hand from her waist to feel his jaw. "Yes, in a way."
"In a way? What's that supposed to mean?"
"We've learned that the Regent is on his way to Haydon IV," Cabell told her. "With what remains of his fleet, no doubt."
Jean compressed her lips. "More fighting, then."
"It's not even as simple as that," Vince added.
"Our world," Veidt said, "cannot be approached with the same tactics you employed to liberate Karbarra, Praxis, and Garuda. Haydon IV is in a certain sense beyond both conquest or liberation. And while it is true that the Invid have assumed control of our political structure, they have not in any way attempted to tamper with our lives. They could not. Haydon IV is an open world and will always remain so."
"Couldn't we sneak through or something? I mean, isn't there a back door we could use, some way of getting to those devices without confronting the Invid?"
Veidt stared at Jean and shook his head. "It is impossible."
Vince was pacing up and down, hands clasped behind his back. "We've gotta ask ourselves whether it's worth the risk."
"Whether Rick, Lisa, and Karen are worth the risk, you mean."
"And Rem," Cabell added.
Vince nodded.
"Look what you've already risked to save them," Veidt pointed out.
Everyone fell silent; then Vince said, "Gather the Sentinels. We've got a decision to make."
"I will not have him here! I will not!" the Regis railed to one of her servants. Was there no escaping him? she asked herself. Even here on Haydon IV?
"I'm afraid it's too late, Your Grace," the servant said, unmoved from its posture of genuflection. "The Regent's flagship has already left Optera to rendezvous here with the remnants of his fleet."
"How long do I have?" she asked, whirling on the sexless creature, the tassels of her long gloves whipping about.
"Less than one period, Your Grace."
She dismissed the servant; when it left the room, she clenched her fists and waved them in the air. "Must he stalk me?" she said aloud. "Must he continue to punish me?"
Abruptly, she turned around to regard Rem; the Zor-clone was asleep, perhaps unconscious after his sessions with the Regent's scientists from Garuda. They had cured him of the madness induced by that world's atmosphere, only to induce a more controlled state of hallucinatory dread. And then they had picked his brain. Oh, how they had picked his brain.
For the better part of five days now the Regis had had him much to herself; hers to toy with, hers to examine-his dreams and thoughts to dissect, his memories to relive...United with him on some psychic plane, she had walked again through those fields they had walked on Optera. Old Optera, Optera before the fall. She had been able to view those times through his eyes now, and had found herself stirred. He had seen how much she wanted to emulate him, in every way; and she had seen how much he had desired her. Not her physical being, not the form destiny had wed her to, but her spiritual self-her essence. There was at one time a semblance of love there, and this discovery filled her with joy. But it was a rapture that could not survive the realities his war-hungry race had introduced into her garden; a rapture that could only endure on that etheric plane, where things cast beautiful but ultimately painful shadows...
Still she could hardly tear herself away from that realm, even though her self-indulgence might mean death for the clone. He was her plaything; much as she had been Zor's!
She understood, however, that Zor had somehow meant to redeem himself by sending the Protoculture matrix far from his Masters' reach. But much of this remained unclear, muddled by what she had accessed from Haydon IV's data systems. These grand designs again: Zor, the Masters, the Invid, all locked together in some immense, unfathomable framework.
Along with this mysterious blue-white world revealed by the clone's thoughts, this nexus of
events, this pleroma...
She had yet to learn either the name of the planet or its continuum coordinates, but she now had a sense of where to begin her search. And sooner or later her sensor nebulae would locate it.
I will follow the nebulae, she decided all at once. I will quit this Quadrant and place myself as far from his reach as that matrix was from the Masters' evil embrace.
She found herself excited by the prospect, laughing as she overlooked Haydon IV's artificial land-and cityscapes. She could even leave some of her Children behind until the moment arrived-the moment when that blue-white world was discovered and made her own!
She increased her size, towering up to fill the room, knowing a determination she had thought lost with love itself. Regarding Rem, she said, "Now let the Regent have his way with you, clone. Let him peer into your memories of our time together, and let him suffer for what he missed!"
Miriya did not look as well as Max had imagined she might. Where was that rosy glow, that special something? Instead, she seemed wasted; baggy-eyed, bone-weary, even slightly jaundiced.
"It's just from my exposure to the atmosphere," Miriya told him as he carefully sat down on the edge of her cot. "But Jean says everything's fine, all systems go. So smooth your wrinkled brow, my darling, and kiss me before I do something violent."
Max forced a smile and leaned into her arms; they held each other for a moment. Max patted her back and straightened up. "I'm not sure I know what to feel," he confessed.
"I know, Max. I'm just as concerned as you are about Rick and Lisa."
"Good news, bad news..."
"That's life, Max. And now Dana's going to have a sister."
Max's brows went up. "Jean tell you that?"
"She didn't have to." Miriya caressed her belly. "I can sense it."
Again, Max tried to feel good about things, but the more he looked at his wife, the more anxious he became. He was about to take her hand, when someone rapped against the partition. Crysta, Gnea, and Teal asked if they could come in for a moment. The Spherisian was carrying the infant-a two-foot Baldan, although still faceted and speechless as yet.
"As soon as I heard the news I came down," Teal explained. "I wanted you to see the infant."
"Congratulations," Gnea said to Miriya uncertainly.
"Hey, what about the father?" Max asked good-naturedly.
The Praxian turned to him. "Why? Did you have something to do with Miriya's condition?"
Max started to respond, but thought better of it, shutting his mouth and blinking stupidly.
"When does he become smooth, like you?" Miriya was saying to Teal.
"It doesn't. It's not necessarily a he."
Miriya looked around uncomfortably. "But I thought that Baldan...that this..."
"It is of Baldan," Teal replied, regarding the infant analytically. "But the features and what I think you call 'the sex' are ultimately left to the Shaper."
"The Shaper? You?" Crysta said, surprised, one huge paw to her muzzle.
"Who else? The young Spherisian remains faceted until smoothed by its Shaper. Soon I will de-facet it."
"But you'll shape him, er, it in Baldan's image, won't you?"
"Why would I do that? I am bonded with the infant now. I could just as easily shape it in my own image."
"But this is all that remains of Ba
ldan," Crysta argued. "Don't you want to recapture his essence? It would mean much to all of us."
Miriya and Gnea agreed. Max kept out of it.
"Among Spherisians I am considered most attractive," Teal told them proudly. "A young one could do far worse than be shaped as I am." She regarded Max and Miriya a moment. "You Earthers don't even have a choice in the matter."
"No argument there." Max laughed. "But maybe that's the beauty of it."
Gnea made a face, astonishment in her gold-flecked eyes. "So you did have something to do with it."
Max looked from Praxian, to Karbarran, to Spherisian, to his own Zentraedi wife, and wondered if he could possibly explain himself.
The Zentraedi's cargo transport-named the Valivarre for Fantoma's primary-was the largest of the ships constructed to serve the needs of the mining op. It was essentially an enormous shell, with vast featureless cabinspaces and cargo holds, and numerous launch and docking bays sized to accommodate ranks of surface mecha and outsize shuttles. Typical of the new breed SDFs-4 through 8-the Valivarre was only lightly armed and somewhat slow by galactic standards; but unlike those fortresses the ship was equipped with Protoculture/Reflex drives that enabled it to astrogate near-instantaneous folds throughout "local space."
The transport was in stationary orbit over Tirol just now, off-loading the latest of Fantoma's riches to cargo shuttles, which were making runs both to the SDF-3 and to the moon's surface.
On the Valivarre's bridge, Breetai was informed that one of the returning shuttles was bringing up two passengers. He arrived in the busy docking bay just as Dr. Lang and Exedore were descending the shuttle ramp.
Lang took a look around. Under the watchful gaze of four Ghost Squadron Battloids, a dozen Zentraedi were loading the last of the monopole ore into a second shuttle. There was more noise than Human ears were meant to withstand, so he donned a pair of silencer muffs, and went on the amplibox to communicate with Breetai.
"It appears that everything is in order, Commander," he said, trying to sound businesslike. "But I have some matters to discuss with you regarding the transfer schedule. Is there somewhere we can talk?"
Breetai led them out of the hold and into a small cabin-space outfitted with a Micronian commo balcony.
"This area is secure," Breetai told them after he had dogged the hatch.
Lang got right to the point. "You'll never get away with this, Breetai. What do you take us for?"
The Zentraedi grinned. "The fool's ore...It wasn't my intention to trick you, Lang. Only Edwards's men. As far as they are concerned, we are off-loading the monopole."
"But, Commander," Exedore said, "what are you trying to accomplish? You're aware that Lang and I will have to report this."
"And I fully expect you to. I ask only that you delay your report for three hours."
"You're leaving!" Lang said, excited. "I knew it."
Breetai folded his arms across his chest and nodded. "That's right, Doctor. We're leaving. And we're taking the monopole with us."
Lang was shaking his head. "It's a mad scheme, Breetai. Edwards will hunt you down."
"Perhaps. But he'll think twice about firing on us while we have the ore aboard. Not when he learns that Fantoma's yield is exhausted, I'm relying on you to make this clear to him."
"Commander, may we enquire-"
"To search for Admiral Hunter, Exedore. I don't accept that the Sentinels have become outlaws any more than I believe the Invid Regent is dead. We know that enemy, Exedore; we engaged them throughout this sector. If he had been assassinated, his queen's troops would have already massed against Tirol and atomized it." Breetai leaned closer to the balcony railing to regard his Micronized friend. "We are free of all imperatives now, Exedore. The Zentraedi will follow none but their own. Will you join us?"
Exedore bowed his head. "Commander, you honor me. But I, too, have an inner imperative."
Breetai mulled it over, then nodded. "I understand, my friend."
Lang looked at the two Zentraedi, suddenly aware of the import the moment held. A surge of misgiving washed through him; a shaping charge he could barely sustain. His voice cracked when he spoke. "To Praxis, Breetai? Garuda? Spheris? The ship you seek is small enough as to be insignificant."
Breetai fixed his eye on Lang. "I don't believe that, Doctor. Nor do you."
Lang rasped, "Haydon IV." She is there, something told him.
Exedore stretched out a hand. "Doctor-"
"Don't ask me to explain." Was it Janice, he wondered, or some other she? It was a
presence the Shaping had alerted him to, a power unlike anything he had experienced...
Breetai regarded him for a moment. "I will begin my search there."
Lang nodded, weakly, wondering whether he would ever see the Zentraedi again.
On Garuda, the Sentinels grouped together in the long-house to discuss their options and priorities, which meant that it was back to transpirators for almost everyone involved. Vince, Max, and Jack were so certain of where they stood that they had already had Rick, Lisa, and Karen brought up to the SDF-7. Under Wolff's and Janice's supervision, Tesla and the two Invid scientists had also been moved to the ship, along with Miriya-who was still too weak to take part in the meeting-and Teal and the Spherisian infant.
Most of Garuda was celebrating-the grieving would come later-and the wild sounds of song and dance made it all the more difficult for the group to come to any agreement concerning the Haydon IV option. They did find themselves united, however, on the issue of Garuda. With the Optera tree orchards in ruins, it wasn't likely that the Invid were going to have much use for the planet-especially not when their initial campaign against Garuda's inherent defenses had ended in so many deaths. But just in case the Regent decided to think along the lines of reprisals-which, Cabell maintained, was highly unlikely given the disastrous defeats the Invid leader had been suffering in other quarters-the Sentinels were prepared to leave most of their forces "onworld to complement the strength of the remaining Bioroid clones. The one Invid hive that had come through the battle reasonably intact would serve as their base. Vince and Veidt were in favor of this even though it would significantly reduce the Sentinels' firepower. Haydon IV, though, was not be thought of in terms of a military campaign; they were undertaking the journey for the sake of Rick, Lisa, Karen, and Rem.
Once again, as someone pointed out.
But the Karbarrans and Praxians, in any case, chose to disregard Vince's statement. They likewise ignored Veidt and Sarna's claim that the planet had not been adversely affected by the Invid presence. Haydon IV had Invid; therefore, Haydon IV needed to be liberated.
Kami and Learna were reluctant to leave, reluctant to abandon the hin and to have to reattach themselves to life-support systems; but they agreed to see things through to their completion after Lron and Crysta reminded them of how they had left their son, Dardo, behind on Karbarra.
The Sentinels were back to the core group.
And they were also back to unknowns.
It was possible they might beat the Regent's fleet to Haydon IV; get in and out without incident. But it was just as likely that things would continue in the same unpredictable fashion they had grown accustomed to.
Ten Earth-standard hours later, the SDF-7 left orbit and jumped.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
While it was true the Invid had been existing on the very same fruits and flowers that were rapidly turning Tesla into something not-quite or more-than Invid, it must be pointed out that the liquified plant-stuff which reached Optera was of a "pasteurized" variety, and was principally utilized as nutrient bath for the soldiers' battle mecha-Scouts, Shock Troopers, Pincer Ships, and such. By forcing himself to subsist on the pure (or the impure, in actuality), Tesla was receiving megadoses of the same stuff that years earlier had sent the Zentraedi Khyron clear over the edge of the Imperative, and into undreamed-of states of metanoia.
History of the Second Ro
botech War, volume XXXVI "Tirol"
"I demand to know where she is!" The Regent bawled as he and his eleven-trooper elite stormed across one of Haydon IV's ice-blue plazas, the splendors of the city lost on them.
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