Timothy Zahn - Deadman Switch

There was a strange pain—a very alien pain—in Adams's face. "What alternative do... you offer?" the thunderhead asked.

I took a deep breath, almost afraid to believe it. The first, most critical piece was now in my hands. "I've told you already," I said. "I offer life for all. It has to be for all—you see that, don't you? As long as the Invaders are alive, the Pravilo can't touch you, because with the Cloud gone they would be facing a war fleet with full Mjollnir capabilities."

The thunderhead seemed to consider that. "Yet if the Invaders... live, they will soon be here," he pointed out.

I nodded, consciously relaxing my jaw. It was a thought that had frequently occurred to me. "We'll have seventeen years," I reminded them. "Enough time for us to talk to them, perhaps work out a deal between you."

Beside me, I felt Lord Kelsey-Ramos stir uncomfortably, and it wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking. The Patri had already rejected the idea of talking to the aliens; if I forced them to do so anyway, they would not be pleased. Another thought that had frequently occurred to me... "Well?" I prompted the thunderhead. "Will you cooperate, or not?"

Again, Adams stared into space... and when his eyes came back there was no defiance left in them. "We will," the thunderhead whispered.

My knees felt a bit weak. We'd already seen thunderhead adaptability; now, we knew them to be rational, as well. I could only hope the aliens were equal to them in both qualities. "Good," I said, trying to sound brisk and businesslike. "I'll be contacting you again; and when I do, you'll need to do whatever I ask. Agreed?"

A slight pause. "We will," the thunderhead hissed again, an aura of distaste about the words. The manipulators agreeing to be manipulated, and not liking it at all.

"All right," I nodded. "It'll be in a few days at the most, and from out in space. Oh, and by the way... you do know how to talk to the Invaders, don't you?"

Another pause, slightly longer. "Yes."

"Good," I nodded again. "We'll leave the details for later; I don't want to push this contact any longer than necessary." In fact, Shepherd Adams was doing fine; but the thunderheads wouldn't know I knew that. "Thank you, and good-bye. Shepherd Adams?—you can break contact now."

Adams stiffened, then slumped back onto the cot, gasping for breath. "You all right?" I asked as Kutzko leaned over with a supporting hand.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. "Hard on the throat, though."

"Not to mention the heart and brain," Eisenstadt reminded him, stepping toward him. "No—don't try to get up."

He reached under Adams's jaw, checking the other's pulse, and I felt Lord Kelsey-Ramos move closer to me. "You really think the Patri plans to destroy the thunderheads?" he asked quietly.

I felt my stomach muscles tighten at the thought. "You said it yourself, sir—none of the commission has even mentioned the Cloud in their talks with the thunderheads. I can't see something that obvious being overlooked by accident."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Incredible. Just incredible they'd even consider something that coldblooded. But what if...?"

"The thunderheads call our bluff?" I shrugged, a tight hunching of my shoulders. "They can't afford to, and I'm pretty sure they know it. Remember that they have no way of knowing whether or not there really are algae bombs sitting out there with timers already set. Besides which, a first strike against us would leave them with no way at all to stop the aliens."

"Point," he admitted. "I don't know, though—this whole thing still seems awfully loose. The communication itself, for one thing—you should have nailed down the method and language right here and now."

I nodded. "Agreed. And I would have, too... except that I was reasonably sure the thunderheads would have lied or otherwise clouded the issue."

He cocked an eyebrow. "I hope you're not counting on them rolling over like pet dogs and meekly giving you anything you ask for once you're out in space. Because if you are..." He left the sentence unfinished.

"I believe," I said carefully, "that I have a way to force them to give me the cooperation I need, when I need it. I'd rather not say any more right now."

He frowned at me, doubt and worry and trust swirling around and through each other like battling tornadoes. "I don't like not knowing what you're planning," he said at last. "But I suppose... so far you've always been worth trusting. I just hope that that religious naivete of yours isn't playing you false."

Look, I am sending you out like sheep among wolves; so be cunning as snakes and yet innocent as doves... "Yes, sir," I told him, an involuntary shiver running up my back. "I hope not, too."

He pursed his lips. "So... what now?"

I glanced past him to where Eisenstadt was still checking Adams over. "Now I'm going to need transport out to the aliens."

"Just like that?" Lord Kelsey-Ramos asked. "No other preparation needed first?"

"No, sir. Well," I amended, "I will need some reasonably portable long-range communications gear—the more sophisticated, the better. But I'm sure we can scrape that up somewhere on reasonably short notice. Transport will be the tricky part."

His sense changed subtly. "Do you want to take the Bellwether?" he asked.

I'd seen the offer coming, but that didn't make it any less impressive. For him to offer up his beloved ship to an unknown fate... "I appreciate the offer, sir," I told him, and meant it. "But I don't think we need to go quite to that extreme. I was thinking more along the lines of one of the rocheoids that've been fitted with Mjollnir drives."

I'd spoken softly, but obviously not softly enough. Crouching beside Adams and Eisenstadt, Kutzko's head swung up, a startled look in his eyes. Straightening up, he left the others and stepped over to join us.

Lord Kelsey-Ramos glanced at him, turned back to me. "The Bellwether would be considerably easier," he reminded me. "For starters, it's right here—crewed and ready to go—instead of being three days away at Collet. And it already has the comm gear you want."

"Yes, sir," I nodded, thinking furiously. "Unfortunately, it's also very strongly linked with you. I really don't want any of you associated more with this than necessary."

Lord Kelsey-Ramos snorted. "I'm already up to my eyelids here, and you know it. Try again—and this time let's have some of that honesty you religious people prize so highly, eh?"

I looked him square in the eye. "What I have in mind is going to be dangerous," I told him flatly. "I don't want to risk any more people than absolutely necessary. The Bellwether crew isn't absolutely necessary."

For a long minute he gazed at me. "When will you need the rocheoid?" he finally asked.

"Sir?" Kutzko interrupted before I could answer. "Request permission to accompany him, at least until he's aboard the rocheoid."

I looked at Kutzko... read his sense and intentions. "Thanks, Mikha, but I really don't want you along."

"You'll need me," he said, eyes steady on me.

"No, I don't," I told him with equal firmness. "Shepherd Adams and I can do it alone." I focused past him, to find Adams looking at me. "That is, if you're willing," I added to him.

"Do I have a choice?" he countered calmly. "You need someone through whom you can talk to the thunderheads—if not me, then another Seeker."

"It's going to be dangerous," I warned him, his quick acceptance giving my conscience a twinge. "I really can't ask you to—"

"Come now, Gilead," he smiled, a trace of irony coloring his determination. "The reason I came to Spall in the first place was to seek the kingdom of God, remember? If I die... then I've found it."

I looked at him closely... and in his sense I could see that, somehow, he indeed recognized the full magnitude of the risk we were facing. And was indeed prepared to accept it. "Thank you," I said quietly. I paused, listening to the awkward silence from the others, and took a deep breath. "Well, then," I said briskly, bringing the mood back to less uncomfortable ground. "That's it, Lord Kelsey-Ramos. If you and the Bellwether could give us transport out to the rings—"