Coeur thought, trial's not something you see every day.
"Greetings," the central figure suddenly said, settling to the ground while his escort remained airborne. "I am the Cardinal
Graylord, and I have come to welcome you to the tomb of our most beloved Saint Kllalt,*
"Er,..yeah," Coeur said.
"In the Interest of your own safety,* Graylord went on, "we must now ask that you wltl surrender your weapons."
The hell I willl" Gaffer said. "Who the hell are your "W'th all due respect,* Graytord said, "you will find your weapon dangerous only to yourself. It Is unlikely you have the agility to strike and harm us,"
"Gaffer,* Coeur said, 'maybe you should lower your gun...."
"No, wait a minute," Gaffer protested, "I want to know what these things are before we surrender to them."
That may be a difficult matter to explain," Graylord said. "However, rest assured that we have the power to subdue you, just as we had the power to subdue your men on the surface."
"What!" Gaffer stormed. "You took my men?"
Oh fikM, Coeur thought, her gut suddenly turning with the awareness of Imminent danger.
"Yes we did, and carried them into a better life."
"You son of a bitch," Caffer snarled. With a howl of fusing hydrogen, his rifle discharged In the direction of Craylord.
The hooded figure ducked with Inhuman agility, allowing Gaffer's beam to sail over It and splash explosively against the armor of a parked tank. This, in turn, sent blobs of liquid slag Into the air, though those seemed to bother the angels no t In the least. As if by some arcane magic, they altered before the spacers' gaze Into black monstrosities, with talon-claws, batwings and glaring red eyes focused intently on Gaffer.
Coeur did not realize until later precisely what she did next Perhaps it was the sense of someone who'd been In firefights before, or perhaps It was just dumbluck, but for whatever reason, Coeur grabbled Physic by her coat sleeve and flung both herself and Physic behind the nearest cover scant moments before twin beams of blinding destruction caught Gaffer in his head and torso.
"What the helf?" Physic said, as seared debris splatter hissed , against their cover, "I ttought you said to stay In the open!"
Coeur nodded back toward the smoldering arms and legs that were all that remained of Caffer, "I don't think that would have been a very good Idea,"
■ * •
Coeur knew that, by all probability, they would soon be dead, there was always the possibility that Graylord was on the level, so she threw her gauss rifle and Its spare clips into the aisle. Physic then tossed her own POL out as well, realizing with Coeur that their best chance for a firepower solution was probably the Intrepid parked back in Soledad 2,200 kilometers away.
"Stay down, "Coeur signed, after rising up to her knees. "I'm going to try to surrender."
"But—"
"Quiet. IT they get me, run."
Reluctantly, Physic nodded, and Coeur went out into the aisle with her hands up.
"All right," Coeur said, deliberately averting her eyes from Gaffer's remains and focusing on his killers instead, "you made your point."
"You need not be afraid," Graylord said, now standing before his escorts—which had returned to angelic form—as If to block them from further violence. "Martlllo and Yunque are powerful, but they will only attack to defend themselves."
"Martillo and Yunque?"
"Yes," Graylord said, Indicating his escorts, "my nightjacks."
"Thoseare nightjacks?"
"Yes, they are. butyou will learn more about that later. Now put your hands down, for we can see that you are unarmed."
"For such soft talkers," Coeur said, consciously avoiding looking at Gaffer as she lowered her hands, "your friends pack some big sticks."
"It Is not their preference to use them. If your friend were not so formidably armed, we would have appeared closer, and the nightjacks could have used Incapacitating weapons instead of their fusion guns."
Graylord then turned to Physic, who was peeking around the comer.
"But perhaps you should invite your friend out, before the nightjacks become suspicious."
"Come on out, doctor," Coeur said.
Although steeled by Coeur, Physic came out into the aisle trembling, her disbelieving gaze locused on Gaffer's remains.
"What ore you people?" Physic asked, echoing the earlier question of the sergeant. "Are you living creatures?"
"Perhaps not living, as you understand it Graylord said, beginning to walk closer. When he was no more than five meters away, towering over the Arses with his two-meter height, he raised up his hands—their fingers strangely long and pale—and pulled back the cowl of his cloak, revealing the ghastly specter of a skinless metal skull, "Robots," Coeur said.
"Quite so," Graylord agreed, enunciating through a voder in his neck. "However, we are not mindless automatons. By the grace and mercy of Our lord, the Defender, we have been given Tile and reason, that we might wait through the years for the coming of the travellers who would herald the resurrection of our beloved St. Kilalt."
Oh my Cod, Coeur thought, "Is it possible? Robots infected by Vims that don't know they're infected by Virus?
In fact, now that the nightjacks Martillo and Yunque were closer, Coeur couldclearly discern both the nature of their bodies and the source of their metamorphic magic. Hovering on what must be contra-grav lift, the three-meter-tall, anthropomorphic machines were a remnant design that Coeur had seen fairly often 80 years before, working as heavy cargo handlers in TL15 starports. Their angelic and demonic features, though, were a laterado'tion, effecteo by a combination of clever technologies— retractable panels and free-standing holograms, projected Into a constantly refreshed aerosol medium surrounding each chassis.
As for their fusion guns, their mechanisms almost certainly lay behind the smoking holes in their broad barrel Chests "What about those other...beings.,.we saw in here?" Coeur asked. "Are those robots too?"
"Oh, heavens no," Craylord said. "Those are humans like yourself."
"Humans?" Physic asked.
"Yes, collected by the nightjacks. But have no fear. Their minds have been modified to recognize the holy purpose and beauty of their lives here."
Everywhere you go, Coeur reflected, assholes "Red," Physic whispered, "it was nice knowing you."
"Yeah," Coeur whispered back, "likewise."
"Please," Craylord said, registering the low-volume conversation with his audio sensors, "there is noneed to be concerned. We have not come to make you servants, but to bring you into the presence of our beloved patron at his resurrection."
"Resurrection?"
"Yes. Behold."
Rather alarmingly—given the speed with which they had slain Caffer—Martillo plucked a small gravitic cargo sled from a harness behind its back Hardly the salest way to travel, since it had no pilot's controls or joystick, it nevertheless sported four folded seats In a line, and hovered under its own power when the nightjack dexlerously set it on the ground and activated its batteries.
"IT you will take your seats," Craylord said, with an inviting sweep of his right hand to the sled, "this humble conveyance will conduct you into his presence."
"After you." Coeur said to Physic.
"Thanks," the doctor said ghmly, taking the seat farthest from the front and buckling herself in. Coeur, also expecting that Cray lord would ride with them, then took the seat before Physic's to keep a space between herself and the forward seat, but Craylord appeared to have another means of travel. Even as the sled rose, almost certainly under rati,©command from one of the robots, the trio of robots also rose, all but silent under impetus from vectored fans in their backs.
All of wb;ch might have been very fascinating to a detached intelligence, but Coeur could not helpbutfixhergazeon the sad remains of her valiant first sergeant as they lifted off—so much mechanical and biological scrap where once had been a man.
Perhaps weVe found Hell itself, she
thought, distantly registering the fact that normal illumination had returned to the depot floor and that the faraway figures of jumpsuited humans were returning to their business as if nothing had happened.
Less fearful of heights than Physic, Coeur lound the spectacle of an overhead view of The depot rather less frightening than the doctor did, and it provided another opportunity to catalog its contents. But the view was brief, cut off as they passed through a portal in the celling, the same one through which the robots has arrived several long minutes earlier. The portal led to a wide underground thoroughfare, branching off into various side corridors conspicuously devoid of human habitation. Here, 40 meters above the depot floor, only robots—nightjacks and their lesser kin—appeared to have any business.
"Do you suppose this could have been an imperial facility?" Physic asked Coeur, leaning up to whisper in her ear, "Hard to say," Coeur answered. "The gear's Imperial and Solomani,"
"Not local?"
Coeur smirked. "No, not local."
Some seconds later, the sled and Its escort passed out of the large comdor and into the restrictive confines of a personnel elevator shaft. Doubtless, the robots had used their Integral radios to instruct any elevator cabs in the complex to avoid that shaft but the possibility of a collision still silenced the Arse's conversation and kept It silent until they emerged at their ultimate destination.
The tomb of St. Kilalt.
Far from the religious shrine that Coeur expected, the tomb was coldly impersonal, a stainless steel, hemispherical chamber chilled to freezing, and centered on a conventional—if ornately decorated —reclining cryogenic capsule. Accessed by a conventional iris valve that locked behind the sled and the robots, the vaulted chamber was actually rather small, no more than 10 meters across, but was dominated by the mysterious figure clearly visible in the low berth—clearly visible, but obscured behind the frost on its transparent door.
A groundhog,. Coeur thought. Malt 'j a damn groundhog. "Praise," Craylord said to the women, "praise to the Defender, that our unfortunate world should see the dawning of a new age of hope and unity In the person of our beloved patron. Please rise and come forward."
Obligingly, the women unbuckled their seat belts and stood up, glad for their parkas In the chilly air, "Thussaith the scripture;'In a time of strife, when children are torn from their mothers' breast, and nations are pulled down to destruction, lo, travellers shall come from beyond the stars, and the dead shall rise from their graves to proclaim the glorious resurrection of the blessed St. Kilalt, herald of our Lord and Defender.' Thus saith the Word of the Defender,"
"Amen," the nightjacks thundered, startling the Arses with voders they did not know the giant machines possessed.
Craylord, meanwhile, had moved over to the low berth controls and begun the delicate process of awakening Its occupant. Almost by force of habit, the physician Physic raised a hand as if to offer her assistance, but a stern look from Coeur made her retract the offer.
Il Golfer's murderers vsant to resurrect their leader, they can jolly well do it without our help.
'The Defender be praised, he is responding," Craylord said, still minding the control. "Brainwaves and metabolic response are normal,"
Creof, Coeur thought.
"However, it will be sometime before he Is fully conscious and possessed of his faculties. Martlllo, Vunque, take our guests into the adjacent chamber and make them comfortable in the interim."
Comfortable, In the realm of the depot, was apparently very comfortable, for the Arses were led Into a three-room suite with a two huge beds, a sunken lounge and a dining room served by an automated galley.
"Ifs like a suite in a luxury liner," Coeur said.
"I don't know," Physic replied. "August didn't have any rooms this luxurious in his mansion."
"I'm afraid even your husband was a small-time conspicuous consumer beside some of the rich men of the Imperiunv"
"I'll have to tell him you said that, whenever I get visiting rights,"
Coeur smiled. Strange as it seemed, just a few months earlier, the danger that Physic would be wrongly linked to the criminal activities of her financier husband was t hegreatest problem In the young doctor's life, Now that seemed almost trivial.
"It's a funny thing about all this opulence," Physic said. "Ifs not what I'd expect from a saint."
"Somehow, Physic, I think a saint Is a last person we're going to meet in this place."
"Hm," Physic said, dropping into a plush lounge couch.
"What?" Coeur asked, coming over to join her after trying the front door and finding it locked.
"I was just thinking It might be wrong to judge this Kilalt prematurely. If he is a remnant, he might not even be responsible for what happened here."
Coeur was about to respond, but then thought better of It, since she knew the room could veiy easily be bugged—and the nightjacks had some pretty itchy trigger fingers. Otherwise, she would have pointed out to Physic that someone had to plant the clue to this facility's location, very probably Kilalt himself, and someone had to arrange for Kilalt to remain Inside a hfdden arsenal of very desirable high-tech weapons—also, very probably, Kilalt.
Which, Coeur thought, isn't much of point in my book.
But lest she give their captors too much to become inflamed by, Coeur kept her feelings to herself, "Yeah," she said. "It's hard to say."
"Should've cut the chatter?" Physic, signed.
Coeur nodded.
"So, how about that Brusman bofoball team?"
Despite herself, Coeur smiled. "I don't know. They have a winning record?"
"Oh, hellif Jknow.ljust like to watch that center o1 theirs...what's his name?"
"Yug. Benjamin Vug."
"Yeah, him. He's so well put together I think he might be an android. Man, what a body."
"Doctor, you're shameless."
"Heyi You're the one who knew his name,"
And so the women spent the better part of 30 minutes.
rambling from sports and weather to the arcane detallsof Physic's more exotic medical cases—revealing precisely nothing about their real purpose on Mexit or how they intended to accomplish it.
When one of the nightjacks appeared at the door, the Arses were confident that they hadn't revealed much to any secret listener—unless, of course, the listener was a skilled telepath. In which case mere small talk might not be enough defense anyway.
"Come," it said, "You Martillo or Yunque7" Coeur asked, rising with Physic to answer the summons.
"I am Yunque," the nlghtjack answered, as they entered the corridor outside the apartment.
"How can we tell you apart?" Physic asked.
"You cannot," the hovering robot said, falling In behind them and directing them to advance down the corridor.
The distance to be travelled was not far. Around a corner and through an airlock, the women were conducted Into an impressive command room, resembling the circular bridge of a large starship, but monitoring Instead the myriad areas and subsystems of this one stationary depot Not unlike a technological cathedral, its walls were covered with large holographic displays resembling animated stained glass windows, all pouring their dazzling illumination on two singular figures; Craylord, standing and St. Kilalt, sitting.
"Ah, Captain D' Esprit and Dr. Takagawa," the latter said. "Greetings. You will forgive me If I don't get up. The suspension process can be rather draining."
Immediately, Coeur was struck by two peculiarities. For one thing, Kilalt was far younger than the elderly St. Kilalt pictured In devotional paintings in Soledad, though his rugged, square jaw and gray-speckled blue eyes were very much the same. Further, he wore a costume very much like that of Vazquez, with a broad hooa thrown back across the shoulders, though the addition of a Close-lltting communicatlonscap—perhaps to let him communicate with his robots—did suggest his origin in an earlier time.
What was even stranger—at least to Coeur— was that Kilalt knew both her own and Physic's rea
l names, though they had not been offered to anyone in the complex.
"You'll forgive my curiosity," Coeur said, "but you look younger than I expected."
Kilalt chuckled. "I'm not surprised. Saints are almost always painted old, to enhance their wisdom."
"You'll also forgive my curiosity at your knowing our names,"
"Ah, now that I can help you with. My friend here, Graylord, has had a great deal of contact with Soledad through the years, while I was asleep. Apparently, the present cardinal of the CCL knows most of your friends' names and supplied them to me, together with your images."
"Vazquez," Physic said.
Ves, Coeur thought, Vazquez.
However, she resisted the urge to give in to her sense of betrayal. In their angelic disguise, materializing from the very air on beams of light St Graylord and his nightjacks might appear more than a little supernatural to a suggestible cardinal steepeo In CCL mythology.
Or then again, Vazquez might well be a tufiy briefed member of whatever conspiratorial power was in control of the depot. But at least Coeur could give her the benefit of her doubt.
"Yes," Kilalt said, "that's her name, Miranda Vazquez. I understand she even has a modest pslonic potential."
"She does?" Coeur asked.
"Yes," Graylord said, speakingfor the first time, "although the talent is rather limited. It tends toward a capacity to perceive the truth in the hearts of others."
"Good lord," Coeur mused. 'That must be how she knew she could trust us."
"If you're referring to her first interview with you," Graylord said, "I rather doubt that. Since I lack any pslonic potential myself, I could only train her in the most rudimentary techniques- By far, her most potent asset is her Innate intuition."
"Hm," Coeur said, looking at Kilalt. "So what about you? Do you have telepathic powers?"
The flashing scowl on Kilall's face told Coeur that he almost certainly did not—that and the fact that her mind wasn't riven by a spike of mental energy. Indeed, a rather perturbed expression was building on Kilall's face the whole time Vazquez was being discussed.
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