Timothy Zahn - The Green And The Gray

The early-morning sunshine had been replaced by low, gray clouds by the time Roger left the Thruway toll booth and turned the car onto Route 28, heading westward toward the Catskills. He'd never liked driving in unfamiliar areas, and as the road meandered back and forth through the hills he had to bite his lip to keep from asking every two miles if Caroline was still monitoring their progress on their maps.

It was after noon by the time they reached the turnoff onto 42 and turned north again. "It shouldn't be more than a couple of miles," Caroline said, peering at the maps spread out over her lap. "This side of Bushnellsville, past Damme Road, off to the west."

"Got it," Roger said. "With any luck, there'll be a sign."

"Yes." She paused. "Have you thought about what you're going to say when we get there?"

"Not really," he admitted, his stomach tightening as it always did when he knew there was a confrontation ahead. "I mostly thought I'd drop Nikolos's name and play the rest by ear."

Caroline shifted in her seat. Probably didn't think much of the plan, he guessed. But then, he wasn't exactly wild about it, either. "I've been trying to think what he might be up to," she said. "It's occurred to me that Cyril's the one who's come off looking the worst in this whole thing."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, from what you told me about your conversation with Torvald, it sounds like Cyril was closely connected with this whole Peace Child thing," she pointed out. "Having it blow up in his face makes him look foolish or naive, which automatically elevates Aleksander and his pro-war faction."

"True," Roger agreed. "Problem is, we know it was a Gray who took her. How could Nikolos have gotten one of them to do his dirty work?"

"Maybe he conned one of their factions into—there it is," Caroline interrupted herself, pointing a finger ahead. "E. and N. Green."

"I see it," Roger confirmed as he spotted the modest sign beside the equally modest gravel drive heading up into the woods. He flipped on his signal; and just as he started into his turn, he spotted a young man dressed in dark green standing beside one of the trees near the driveway entrance. "Uhoh," he said. "We've got company."

"Should we stop?" Caroline suggested hesitantly.

But the Green made no move, merely watching silently as they drove past. "I guess not," Roger said.

"Probably just a watchman, like the one I ran into at Aleksander's building."

"Roger," Caroline said slowly. "Was that man wearing a trassk?"

Roger glanced at the mirror, but the Green was already out of sight. "I didn't notice."

"I think he was," she said, her voice suddenly tight. "In fact, I'm sure of it. Didn't Nikolos say they only had enough trassks for the top leaders and the Warriors?"

"Yes, but so what?" Roger asked. "It makes sense for them to have a Warrior standing guard."

"With the main battle setting up to happen in Manhattan?"

"Point," he said slowly. "Unless he's expecting the Grays to attack here."

"Or else is planning for them to attack here," Caroline murmured.

"How do you plan for your enemies to attack you?" Roger objected. "Besides, an area like this would be tailor-made for Greens to fight in. The Grays would have to be nuts to walk into it without a good reason."

"Maybe Nikolos has a good reason," Caroline said. "Like Melantha."

Roger felt something twist in his stomach. "In which case, they would definitely have Warriors on duty."

"There's another one," Caroline said, pointing to Roger's left. "No—three of them."

Roger looked. All three Greens were young and tall, striding purposefully toward the road they were driving on.

All three were definitely wearing trassks.

"I'm thinking we should find a place to turn around and get out of here," Caroline said, her voice starting to tremble.

Roger looked in his mirror. Five more Greens had appeared on the road behind them. "Too late," he said.

"There's another," Caroline said.

He shifted his attention forward. Fifty yards ahead, a small road angled off to the right from the main drive. Standing unsmiling in the intersection was a Green, his hand held palm outward in the universal gesture to halt, the trassk on his jacket gleaming dully in the diffuse light seeping through the clouds. Roger let the car coast to a halt, rolling down the window as the Green stepped around to his side. "Hello," he greeted the other, trying to keep his voice cheerful and unconcerned.

"Hello," the Green replied, his voice as neutral as his face. "Are you expected?"

"Not really," Roger admitted. "But I'm sure he'll see us."

The Green lifted his eyebrows." 'He'?"

Roger felt his throat tighten. He'd banked on there being somebody obviously in charge here, and that his casually vague comment would make him sound like he knew what he was talking about.

Now, instead—

"Your Group Commander," Caroline spoke up from beside him. "We need to see him as soon as possible."

The Green's forehead wrinkled slightly, and with a shiver Roger noticed his eyes unfocus for a moment. Communicating with his companions, no doubt. "Very well," he said suddenly, pointing down the side road. "There's a cabin that direction. You can wait there."

"Isn't he up there?" Roger asked, pointing ahead along the main drive.

"You'll be directed," the Green said in a voice that made it clear it was an order.

Roger grimaced. "Fine." Shifting the car into reverse, he backed up a few feet and turned into the side road.

"I don't like this," Caroline murmured.

"Understatement of the day," Roger said grimly, digging his cell phone out of his pocket and handing it to her. "Here—see if you can get a signal."

"Who are we calling?" Caroline asked, sliding it out of its case and turning it on.

"I don't know," he told her. "I just want to see if we can call anyone."

"Doesn't look like it," she said, peering at the indicator. "I'll try our apartment."

She punched buttons and held the phone to her ear. "Nothing," she said with a sigh, turning it off and handing it back to him. "We must be in a dead spot."

"Yeah," Roger said. "Probably on purpose."

They passed two more intersections, each of which had a Green waiting to point them the correct way. Finally, perhaps a half mile from the main drive, they reached the end of the road and a small, rather run-down cabin. Two more Greens were standing by the door, flanking it like guards. "They look like Yannis from last night," Caroline murmured.

"Somehow, I doubt we'll be getting a friendly pass-warder ritual," Roger said as he rolled to a halt in front of the building. Putting the gearshift in park, he shut off the engine and pocketed the keys.

"Come on."

"This way, please," one of the Greens called, reaching over and opening the cabin door as they got out of the car.

"Thank you," Roger said, determined to at least maintain the illusion that they were all friends here.

Beyond the doorway was a living room full of drifting dust and an almost chokingly musty smell.

Clearly, the place hadn't been used in years.

And yet, this was where the Group Commander had decided to put them. That wasn't a good sign.

"Interesting," he commented, trying to sound unconcerned as he looked around. The furnishings consisted of an old couch and a pair of wicker chairs that were starting to fall apart, threadbare rugs, drab curtains, a beam-ribbed ceiling, and a stone fireplace with a wooden mantel above it. "Looks like a Learning Channel frontier life special."

"It's not that old," Caroline told him, her nervousness momentarily submerged beneath professional interest. "The construction dates to just after the war. The rug's probably from the late fifties, the furniture late fifties or early sixties."