Timothy Zahn - The Green And The Gray

"Of course it happened," Sylvia said. "What do you think we're in right now?"

"I meant it didn't happen back then," Caroline said. "So why didn't you reveal yourselves to the others after you arrived?"

A grimace flicked briefly across Sylvia's face. "As you say, they were able to settle into the city without needing us," she said. "Elymas was already dead, and Nikolos and I didn't think his successors would appreciate our deception. Fortunately, my hidden Warriors had included both males and females, and I had learned there was a great deal of wooded territory north of the city where we could live and breed without really being noticed. So one night I brought the whole group here and began the long process of building a sanctuary and creating an army to defend it, should our people ever need us."

She gestured toward the south. "Now, they do."

"How many of you are there?" Caroline asked. "I was guessing around a hundred fifty."

"Close," Sylvia said. "The enclave numbers a hundred fifty-six, a hundred twenty of them Warriors and Group Commanders. Add those to the sixty already in the city, and I should have enough of a fighting force to quickly and decisively defeat the Grays."

Caroline shivered. Nearly two hundred Green Warriors, with the Grays prepared to face only sixty. It wouldn't be a defeat, it would be a slaughter. "I thought you could only do what your Gift allowed," she said. "How is Nikolos able to handle tactics?"

"Obviously, he can't," Sylvia said. "I've had to coach him the entire way, from the moment we boarded the transport to our last conversation just a few hours ago. Everything you've heard him say has been basically a direct parroting of what I've told him."

She snorted gently. "Except for that little throwaway line he dropped on Saturday about retreating to upstate New York, of course, the comment that put you and Roger on our trail. I was ready to strangle him for that one."

"Oh, I don't know," Caroline said evenly. "It may have started off as a mistake, but you certainly did a very good job of turning it to your advantage." She lifted her eyebrows. "You did turn it to your advantage, didn't you?"

Sylvia's lip twitched. "You're referring to your notes, I presume?"

"Yes," Caroline said, her heartbeat picking up its pace. Here it came; the moment of truth. "You knew all along I was going to write them, didn't you?"

"I knew you had written them once they were planted," Sylvia said. "But it wasn't until that first dinner, when you showed you were smart enough to pass up what looked like a clear opportunity to escape, that I realized you might also be smart enough and brave enough to find a way to contact the outside world."

"So the thing with those two state troopers was a test?"

"Actually, it was pure happenstance," Sylvia said. "Up until then my plan had simply been to allow you to waste your time and energy trying to persuade the naive Green to defy her Command- Tactician and come over onto your side. But once you'd shown yourself to be a notch above that, I decided to offer you a more proactive role."

"As a disseminator of disinformation," Caroline said, putting some bitterness into her tone. "I feel honored. So when the Grays assemble in Upper Manhattan tonight to face you, they won't find anyone there?"

"No, there will be a few Warriors coming onto the island there," Sylvia assured her. "Enough to keep the Grays from becoming suspicious. But that isn't where the main thrust will occur. And of course, there certainly won't be any Groundshakers accompanying them."

"Damian will be elsewhere?"

Sylvia shook her head. "Damian doesn't exist," she said. "He was one of the Groundshakers left behind who sent our transport on its way."

Caroline nodded slowly. So she'd been right about that part, too. "Just one more lie?"

"One more attempt to prepare the Grays for the wrong war," Sylvia corrected. "Ever since the beginning of this, whether we were agreeing to sacrifice Melantha or else making up a Damian who didn't exist, the goal has been to deflect their thoughts and attention away from the fact that we have far more Warriors than they realize. That's where our hope lies."

"I see," Caroline said heavily, trying to conceal her own cautious trickle of hope. So her second note had made it through. Sylvia had missed the significance of the clue she'd planted and had let it go. "I suppose I should be relieved that you aren't planning to level New York anymore. Or will that change if you find Melantha again?"

"I never wanted to level New York or kill any of your people," Sylvia said, an odd intensity to her tone. "I still don't. I may not have any genuine affection for you, but I bear you no ill will, either."

"No, all you want is the chance to finally use your Gift," Caroline said, grimacing.

Sylvia lifted her eyebrows. "We have been using our Gifts," she said. "A Warrior's true Gift isn't fighting per se, but simply the protection of our people. True, sometimes that Gift involves combat, but more often it simply requires thoughtful preparation and watchful waiting."

"You've certainly done plenty of that," Caroline murmured.

Sylvia sighed. "I'm not looking forward to this war, Caroline," she said quietly. "I saw enough death back in the Great Valley to last the rest of my lifetime. But my duty is to protect my people.

Whatever I have to do to achieve that end will be done."

"I understand," Caroline said. "Do I at least get to go to the city with you? See for myself what exactly you have to do to my people in order to protect yours?"

Sylvia smiled. "Come now, Caroline," she said, gently admonishing. "You can't manipulate me that easily. I thought you realized that." The smile faded. "Actually, though, I've already decided to take you with us. Whatever happens tonight, win or lose, you'll be free afterward to return to your home."

"And Roger?"

A shadow passed across Sylvia's face. "Roger's with the Grays," she said. "Whatever happens to him is in their hands now."

There was a moment of silence. Then Sylvia stirred and gestured toward the tray. "You'd better hurry if you're going to finish," she said. "The Warriors are already on the move. It'll soon be time for us to go, as well."

Light was beginning to filter through the curtains across the motel room when the ringing of Fierenzo's cell phone jolted him awake. He grabbed for the arm of the chair he'd been sleeping in, pulling himself mostly upright as he fumbled the phone out of his pocket and thumbed it on.

"Fierenzo," he said.

"It's Jon, Tommy," Powell's voice came. "Smith's got the note."

Fierenzo glanced across the room at the glowing numbers of the clock between the two beds—7:02

A.M.—noting peripherally that Jonah had propped himself up on an elbow and was looking a bit blearily at him. "Good," he murmured to his partner, digging out his pad and pen. "He phoned it in, I hope."

"He did indeed," Powell confirmed. "You ready?"

Fierenzo flipped the notebook open to an empty page. "Shoot."

"You were right about it being on the back of a gum wrapper," Powell said. "Smith said it's a little hard to read, but here's his best interpretation: 'Roger: Green Warriors moving NYC Tue night from N... sweep S w/Damian behind them... must intercept before buildings fall... I love you, C Any of this making sense to you?"

"All of it, unfortunately," Fierenzo said, scribbling madly. "Okay, I got it."

"Hang on, we're not done," Powell said. "There's also a P.S. It says—"

"Wait a second," Fierenzo interrupted, frowning. There hadn't been any postscripts on Caroline's first note. "What kind of P.S.?"

"Just a P.S.," Powell said, sounding puzzled. "Your basic everyday oops-I-forgot-something P.S. Is that a problem?"

"Possibly," Fierenzo said, thinking hard. "Could Smith tell whether it was the same handwriting and pen?"