"I think that will be quite enough, Graylord," Kilalt said. "You are dismissed."
"Your most gracious holiness," Graylord said, beginning to leave.
"Leave Martillo here, though."
"Sir," Graylord said, at the door, "this Is Yunque."
"Whatever."
"Sir."
A moment later, when Graylord had passed through to the door and it had closed behind him, Kilalt hauled himself quickly to his feet, perhaps discontented with the relative lack of status conferred by his sitting position.
"Damn these robots," Kilalt said. "I'd almost swear they were Intelligent-"
5tartled, the Arses exchanged meaningful glances, though they didn't hold them so long that they were conspicuous.
My Cod, Coeur thought, Is it possible he doesn K tow his own robot! ore self-aware?
Well, of course It is—If he went to sleep before the Collapse, he mfght not even know about Virus.,,.
And that cookf be useful.
They do seem rather...perceptive," Physic said.
"Yes," Kilalt said. "But the contractors told me there was a risk in putting too high a percentage of synaptic circuits into an android, so I suppose I should have expected glitches."
"Just what is Craylord designed for?" Coeur asked.
"Oh, a very noble purpose. He's a repository of legal and ecclesiastical lore—sort of a mechanical lawyer. He was actually a fairly handsome 'man' before his artificial skin wore off and made a good presentation In court."
"I see."
"But, of course, that's all secondary to his present purpose— maintaining this depot, preserving my memory to thepeople and awakening me when you arrived."
"US?"
"You, In the sense of people from space. I assume you're from either the Imperium or the Solomani Confederation—although I'd tend to lean toward the latter, since they always seemed to prefer black uniforms."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Coeur said, "but we're not from either. Both of those governments were destroyed over 70 years ago."
"Destroyed?" Kilalt said, genuinely shaken. "I hadn't expected that. Devastation, certainly, but not destruction."
"I was surprised myself," Coeur said, "when they woke me up. But It's the truth—there's nothing but wasteland everywhere we've looked."
"You said 'we.'"
The Reformation Coalition, sir. The government we represent"
"I take it that's not some inflated name for a band of hoodlums, or a bunch of pirate starmercs."
"No sir. We're larger than that."
"How much larger?"
"I'm afraid that's classified, sir,"
"Well," Kilalt said, gesturing for Yunque to move in closer to the women, "you might consider unclassllylng IT It's either that or I'll have to kill you."
"Over that?" Physic asked, conscious of the looming machine suddenly looking down at her from behind. "The size of our government?"
"Well, of course! Why do you think I arranged to preserve this depot?"
"Probably not to set up an arms museum," Coeur ventured.
"No," Graylord said. "I arranged it to make the maximum income for Mexi t, selling arms to the warring nations of space. But if your nation Is too small to afford that service, men I'm alrald I'll have to kill you and wait for somebody who can."
"Just how big Is big enough?" Coeur asked.
"Well, that depends. Do you control a subsector?*
"More than that," Coeur admitted.
"A sector?"
"No, not quite that much,"
"Well, I suppose that would be a stretch, so soon after the complete destruction of civilization. But a subsector will do— especially If you have other rivals to drive up the price,"
Yes, Coeur thought, I was alrald you'd say that Although St, Kilalt had few redeeming qualities, he did at least have two traits that Coeur was grateful for. First he was utterly confident and therefore perfecUy willing to explain every detail of his plans. Andsecond, he was not a technician, meaning he did not entirely grasp the purpose or function of the many displays around him.
Importantly, one display gave the particulars of a fragment of the planetary defense system still very much intact—a single very large deep-site meson gun below the Aguja Prieta Mountains. Reduced from the dozen deep sites that once protected Mexit (now registering as unpowered and unmanned on a planetary map), it nevertheless represented the foremost challenge to any direct assault on Kilalt and Coeur took some small comfort In the fact that It utilized a single battery of target acquisition sensors, located very near the depot atop Ml Alius, the highest mountain overlooking Pesta.
Incredulous that Kilalt would let her see such data, Coeur nevertheless knew ner duty and made a point of memorizing the latitude and longitude of the sensor battery down to hundredths of a degree. In the moments when Kilalt look his gaze away from her.
Now, she thought If only I could get this data to Drop KJck....
"..And so," Kilalt droned on, "I made the final arrangement with the Solomanl. Knowing they needed my church's help to control the population of Mexit, and knowing they needed Mexit as a staging area to assault the imperium, they accepted my deal to lease them the cavern for use as their arms depot."
"Fascinating," Coeur said, moving slowly closer to a communications console and leaning back against It. "But surely the Solomanl didn't expect you take the depot over yourself."
"Well, that was die delicate bit. I knew the Solomanl planned to delay their offensive and only stockpile weapons here, so it was a calculated gamble that their whole government structure would collapse before any offensive was launched. My only miscalculation—assuming your intelligence is correct—was assuming that the collapse would be temporary."
"Actually, it's a clever Idea," Physic said, realizing that Coeur was up to something, and hoping to distract Kilalt by moving to the other side of the room. "And now I suppose you'll expect us to take your catalog back to our capital so our government can make out a shopping list."
"Not quite," Kilalt said, "From Craylord, I understand that a colleague of yours, Vega Tom, has a disabled starship in Soledad. After I assume power, I will have that ship seized and repaired, and Craylord will take it—and you—back to your government with my offer,"
"And what makes you think our government will want your service?"
"If it has rivals, it will. If it doesn't, then Craylord will find someone else who isn't so finicky,"
"I don't know," Physic said. "You seem awfully confident. What makes you think you can just walk inlo Soledad and take over?"
"My dear doctor," Kilalt said, "that will be the easiest part of my plan. If Craylord was even half as effective as I think he was at sustaining my legacy, the people of Soiedad will hail me as the prophet of the Defender."
"Ah, but not the Defender."
Sympathetically, Kilalt chuckled.
"Oh, well, I see that you don't understand the nature of our faith. When these primitive people see the miracles I am capable of, I will become the Defender soon enough."
At this, finally. Physic was stunned. Though hardly religious, neither was she one to trample roughshod over anybody's most deeply held beliefs. Alien as the faith of the Mexitans might be, what Kilalt was proposing was no less repulsive than a charlatan would be to aTerran Christian or Moslem, pretending to be Jesus or Mohammed.
"You've got balls, mister."
"Yes, I suppose I do."
Just then, a sudden movement distracted both Physic and Kilalt—the motion of Yunque rushing across the room to seize Coeur.
"Ouch!" Coeur exclaimed, feeling herself restrained by the grip of twogiant hands hotding her arms to her sides. Yunque was clearly going easy on her, though, since It had the demonstrated ability to wrench chunks of armor loose from heavy battle dress.
"What is the meaning of this?" Kilalt asked.
"Forgive me, your holiness," Yunque said. "I interrupted this individual in the process of sending a transmission."
"All right," he said to Yunque. "What did she do?"
"That is not within my area of knowledge. Your Holiness."
"But you noticed what she was doingl"
"If I may be so bold, sir, the intelligence necessary to observe suspicious behavior is not the same as the skill to understand It."
Despite himself—and his discomfort with such an articulate statement from a modified cargo robot—Kilalt had to concede that Yunque was right.
"Craylord," Kilalt snapped, inlo a personal communicator, "get back in here,"
Were seconds later, the android returned, bringing the other nightjack as a precaution and exhibiting a haste that suggested he had not gone far when dismissed.
"Sir, you called?"
"Yes, Yunque says the captain here was tampering with a communications panel. Did she actually send a message?"
"Indeed she did," Graylord said, after only a fleeting glance at the communications panel. "She used our radio transmitter, on the surface, 10 send out a semaphore message reading 'R-S-K.'"
"Ft-S-K? What dees that mean?"
"Unknown. Perhaps it is a code."
"All right," Kilalt said, wheeling on Coeur. "What does it mean? Or would you rather that Yunque ripped your arms off?"
"No," Coeur said, "Graylord's right. It's my Initials and the letter 'K'—the Coalition general emergency signal."
"I see. Then It must have a counterslgnal."
"No sir. Signal K cannot be countermanded."
"All right," Kilalt snarled. "Kill her."
Whoops, Coeur thought; watching as Martillo moved to block a startled Physic.
"If I may," Graylord said, "stress analysis of her voice suggests truthfulness. It may be ill-advised to kill her while she yet can yield useful information."
In response, Kilalt growled In his throat, but at last relented. "Ah—hell. Let her go,"
"Yes, Your Holiness," Yunque said, releasing Coeur with as much ease as it might have broken her In two.
More than a llttie conscious of that, Coeur stumbled on wobbly knees for a moment as Physic came over to support her. But then she regained her composure, aware that—for whatever reason—Graylord had saved her life, and she glanced very quickly in his direction, hoping to catch some telltale expression on his skull-like metal face.
The face of Graylord was Implacable, though—the very visage of a dead man.
Chapter 19
Though it was brief—repealed only a dozen times before it terminated—every spacer near a radio receiver heard the signal R-S-K, clearly amplified as it was by Mexit Depot's powerful 20-megawatt transmitter.
"What does that mean?" Brother Anthony asked sleepily in Die G-carrier, prodded from his sleep by the urgent beeping of the radio.
"It means we're dusting off is what," Red Eye said, rushing to check the receiver Newton was monitoring. "Tom, Whiz Bang, get us out of here."
"But what about Red Sun?" Tom asked from the pilot's seat.
"That was from Red Sun. Signal K means there's imminent danger, and we're to relocate to a safe position."
"Sir," Newton observed, "this signal Is from a very specific above-ground location. That may mean the captain's party is also near the surface, awaiting rescue."
"Negative," Red Eye said, "She wouldn't have sent that signal if that were the case."
"I don't know about this," V-Max said. "What gives you the authority to make a decision like that?"
"These," Red Eye said, pointing to the gunnery sergeant's chevrons on his arm. "Now floor it, Tom. We need to make contact with Drop Kick—assuming he's still alive."
• it Drop Kick, at that moment, was alive but not with his tank. Instead, he was In the hotel room General Lemos had commandeered as his Federal District headquarters, listening to the general's complaints about the new regime.
"Surely you can see the danger, sergeant Just today, four of my men were arrested before the Defense Ministry for carrying weaponsl Can you beiieve that—the very soldiers who brought Vazquez to power?"
"Well..."
"But that's not all. just yesterday she began rearming the 1st Brigade and restoring its old officers to their commandsl Idiocy!"
"Well," Drop Kick tried again, this time breaking into the general's tirade, "it might help to look at this from the president's position. True, your men are brave and skillful fighters. But from a pubiic-relations point of view, the public may prefer to see a more...ah...obviously organized unit defending them."
"But this 1st Brigade Is a legion of butchersl She knows that!"
Drop Kick countered, "On the other hand, you have to admit most of the 1st Brigade's worst officers were killed or imprisoned."
Lemos dismissed that with a snort and spun around to face the polarized window of his room, behind which the first glimmer of dawn was beginning to show. After a moment there, he spun back, opening his mouth to respond.
"Excuse me a minute," Drop Kick said, interrupting the general to answer the beeping communicatoron his wrist, "Drop Kick here. Co ahead."
"Drop Kick, this is Mercy. We've got an emergency; signal K,"
"Oh hell. from the skipper?"
"Affirmative. Deep Six confirms that it originated In the mountains near the G-caftier's DZ."
"Understood. I'll be there ASAP. Drop Kick out."
"Pardon me for asking," t.emos said, "but what Is signal K?"
"Ageneral emergency," Drop Kick said, snatching up his field cap and making for the door, "it means we 11 ha veto dig out and relocate."
Before Drop Kick could reach the door, Lemos stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Sergeant, will you be telling Vazquez where you're going?"
"Negative. That could compromise our security."
"Well, sergeant, think about this. What I was about to tell you is that I'm going to move my men out of the city and Into the ruins to the north. Why don't you come with us?"
Drop Kick didn't answer immediately, mullingover instead the merits of the offer.
"I'm afraid I can't, general—at least not until I know more about the emergency."
"You don't think we're the cause of the emergency, do you?"
"I haven't the faintest idea. But I'll tell you what—keep your laser uplink with you when you go. That way I'll be able to get In touch with you if I have to."
"All right," Lemos said, accepting the offer, "But mark my words—whatever crisis your captain discovered, I'll bet it has something to do with Vazquez."
"Consider them marked," Drop Kick said, saluting and reaching for the door. "I'll probably be in touch."
Last among the spacers to comprehend the significance of signal K were the personnel aboard Vi Et Armis, though not because of any deficit in their communications rig. Rather, they weren't privy to Coeur's code book, so Boomer, the acting commander, was obliged to seek out 8onzo for a translation.
"Uh-oh," the Marine corporal said, when brought to the bridge, "that's bao. Signal K means all units are to abandon their present positions for safer cover."
That's It?" Boomer asked.
"Well, I admit it is a bit vague," Bonzo said, "but Red Sun must have meant all of us are in danger, or she wouldn't have sent it."
"But we can't leave here," Tom said. "Vink has our drive components scattered all over the berth."
That's true, but signal Kslill means there's a dire emergency, Imminent peril."
"Maybe so," Boomer said, "but Tom is still our stopper. I'll wait for her orders before we abandon ship."
As If by some magic of coincidence, that very order came through the corsair's radio just a moment later.
"Boomer, this Is Tom, with Hornet's G-carrier. Listen up: I'm going to need you to abandon ship."
"Abandon ship,
sir?"
"That's right—get everybody into our two air-rafts as quickly as possible and lock the ship up against Intrusion."
"Any Idea where we should go?"
"Affirmative. Do you have a standard map available?"
"Right here," Boomer said, punching up Deep Six's world survey data on the adjacent navigation display.
"Good, then listen close, I want you to load everybody Into the ship's boat and proceed to map coordinates 3112-2526—but don't tell anyone outside the snip where you're going."
"Understood. Will you be in touch later?"
"Affirmative. But don't try to reach me; I'll meet you later at those coordinates "
Boomer knew what that meant,
Oont ask questions, lust follow yovr damn orders.
"Roger, on our way,"
"Tom out,"
Despite the urgency Inherent In Coeur's signal, frustratlngly little happened at first that suggested an Impending crisis to the crew of Hornet. After returning the freighter to the back face of Elojo, Deep Six monitored the broadcasts of the resunected Soledad Radio continuously, but nothing more dramatic than hourly news updates on agricultural production and various items of community news filler Interrupted the patriotic mix of hymns and popular music.
"Somehow," Snapshot said to DeepSlx, during their ftfthshift-change since Coeur's signal, "It doesn't sound like a crisis atmosphere."
"No, I should say not," thenavlgatoragreed, rolling back from his station. "It has been 18 hours since the transmission, and your satellite still hasn't detected any evidence of warfareor mass troop movements on the surface."
Snapshot shrugged, sliding a human chair up in place of the Schalll's roller-chair and sitting down Inlt Outside the panoramic bridge window, the jagged lip of an Elojo crater continued to look down on the landed Hornet—a lip that divided the visible horizon between the velvet sky and Elojo's lifeless sun-baked surface.
"Of course, I am exaggerating to a degree," Deep Six said, pausing In transit to the aft hatch. "The migration of the rebels may be of some significance."
"I don't know about that," Snapshot said, turning her chair around to face Deep Six. "Drop Kick made It sound mote like a political tiff."
TNE 02 To Dream of Chaos Page 31