Timothy Zahn - Blackcollar - The Blackcollar

"So you took the general and turned him into a blackcollar?" Caine prompted.

"Yes. But not without a great deal of argument. The last shreds of his army were preparing for a final stand, and he wanted to come forward and order them to surrender instead." Lathe sighed. "His silence cost a lot of men their lives. I think probably that's why we never told anyone else his true identity, not even the other blackcollars. The secret had cost both of us a great deal, and we were damned if we were going to take even the slightest risk with it."

"I think I understand," Caine said.

"I doubt it," Lathe returned, not unkindly. "You won't really understand until you've held a command of your own." He paused. "What are you planning to do when we leave here? Go back to Earth?"

That question had occupied a good deal of Caine's thought lately. "I don't know," he confessed. "It's my home, and I can't think of any place I'd rather fight the Ryqril But..." He trailed off.

"You're not still mad at them for not telling you you're a clone, are you?"

"Oh, no I don't think so, anyway It's just that if the government really did crack the top level of the Resistance just before I left, then everyone I ever knew is probably dead or in prison. I'd be completely on my own."

"Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Only if I intend to get anything done." Caine smiled tautly. "You're forgetting I was intended to be a one-shot weapon. I was trained for exactly one purpose: to impersonate Alain Rienzi and do whatever damage I could before getting caught. Well, I've done that, and now my programming's run out. No one ever taught me more general skills, like how to organize my own underground or how to plan and carry out missions. Or even how to fade into the general populace while the enemy's hunting me, for that matter."

"You think the Ryqril will be out to get you?"

"I doubt that the leniency concessions you've wangled for Plinry and Argent will apply to me," Caine said dryly. "I also doubt they realize how minor a threat I actually am."

"Well, we can't have them acting on false assumptions, can we?" Lathe said. "Perhaps you'd like to come back to Plinry with us."

For a long moment Caine was sorely tempted. Sanctuary among the blackcollars... "Thanks, but no," he said, almost regretfully. "I'd just be in the way."

"You don't understand—I'm not offering you a place to hide. Lepkowski's going to need trained guerrilla fighters, and Plinry seems the logical place to set up shop, at least for now. We've got the best teachers in the TDE; what we need now is promising students."

"You mean... full blackcollar training?"

"As full as we can make it. Understand, though—without the Backlash drug we can't make you into a true blackcollar." Lathe hesitated. "And you should also recognize that you'll be setting yourself up for even more trouble from the Ryqril this way. I understand Galway's already on his way back to Plinry, and he'll be watching us like a hungry fan-dragon."

But the Ryqril were already gunning for him... and it occurred to Caine that if the formula for the Backlash drug existed anywhere anymore it was probably on Earth. A worthwile target to go after—possibly even more valuable than five Nova-class ships, in the right hands. And Caine had a pretty good idea whose hands those would be. "All right, you're on," he told Lathe's silhouette. "Just make sure I can get back to Earth after my training—and remember that I'll need a supply of that anti-asthma drug while I'm on Plinry."

"No problem," Lathe said without hesitation. "I've already ordered the lab to mix up a truckload of the stuff for you."

Caine stared at him. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you? What if I'd said no?"

"Then I'd be stuck with a truckload of histrophyne," the other said. "But I thought you'd say yes. We're a lot alike, you know, you and I." He stood up and moved toward the door. "Your first class is tomorrow at nine o'clock in the aft ready room; see you there." The door slid open and closed and he was gone.

For a moment Caine gazed after him, feeling the warmth of the other's compliment. A lot like Lathe, was he? High praise indeed—and he was going to do his damnedest to live up to it.

Looking up at the stars, he smiled wryly. The Ryqril didn't know it yet, but they were in big trouble.