Timothy Zahn - Judgment at Proteus

“Very neat,” I said.

“The point is that I may have equipped the bastard, but I never authorized his plan,” Hardin said. “That was all him.”

“Fine,” I said. “ My point is that I’m not working for Hardin Industries anymore. I’ll work with you, but not for you.”

Hardin grimaced, but nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “Would you be willing to at least accept a ride back to Earth? My torchyacht is faster than anything you could rent at the transfer station, and a lot more secure.”

“That one I’ll be more than happy to accept,” I assured him. “Why don’t you and McMicking go find Morse and see if he can talk Colonel Savali into letting us leave the station. Terese, you and Rebekah might as well go with them. We’ll be along in a minute.”

“Right,” McMicking said before anyone could object. “Mr. Hardin?”

“Just make it fast,” Hardin warned me as he headed toward the door. “I’m suddenly not liking this place very much.”

“We’ll be right there,” I promised.

They filed out, the door closing again behind them. “You do realize,” Bayta said into the silence, “that I don’t know enough ancient Shonkla-raa to teach a fifteen-minute class.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I wasn’t going to have them spend more than fifteen minutes on it anyway.”

She frowned. “Then why an eight-week delay?”

“Two reasons,” I said. “First, there is an actual course of study I want Hardin’s people to take. And second, we need to give the fleeing rats a place to flee to.”

“Which fleeing rats?”

“All of them,” I said. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the data chip I’d been about to show her before McMicking and the others interrupted. “The thing that’s been nagging at me the whole time was why they chose Terra Station for this confrontation, and why they made it so big. Why in the world would they risk this kind of exposure in a full-blown battlefield assault?”

I handed her the data chip. “So while Morse and I were taking a breather from all the official questioning, I slipped over to the message center to see if the Spiders had anything for me.”

Bayta fingered the chip, making no move to pull out her reader. “And?”

“It’s my version of the same news the Shonkla-raa must have gotten before we arrived,” I said. “A report from Logra Emikai saying that the Shonkla-raa gene-manipulation facilities aboard Proteus Station have been completely destroyed.”

Bayta’s eyes widened. “Already?”

“Already,” I confirmed. “And when I say completely I mean down to the last DNA molecule. He planned it well, and was able to bring in some of his old friends to assist. That, plus the intel the Modhri provided him, let them launch a single coordinated raid and take down everything.” I tapped the chip. “And there’s more. Emikai and Director Usantra Nstroo were able to find enough proof of the Shonkla-raa activities that a quiet alarm has now been sent out across the entire Assembly. Within weeks, months at the most, the Shonkla-raa are going to be hunted down and captured.”

“Or killed,” Bayta murmured.

“That’s up to the Fillies,” I said. “The point is that with their handy genetic assembly line on Proteus up in smoke, there aren’t going to be any new Shonkla-raa anytime soon. With their hoped-for future numbers wiped out, and with my well-established knack for thinning their current ranks, they apparently decided I needed to be taken out, one way or another, no matter what the cost. Hence, today’s desperate gamble.”

Bayta gazed down at the data chip in her hand. “So what you’re doing now is baiting them,” she said. “You’ve set up a plan you don’t intend to carry out, hoping they’ll now come to you.” She looked at me, her face pale. “And kill you.”

I sighed. “For whatever it’s worth, I don’t like this any better than you do,” I said. “But like you said, we need to get them out into the open.” I shrugged. “This was the best bait I could think of.”

“I know.” Bayta took a deep breath. “I hope you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?” I countered, trying for a levity I didn’t feel. “Ready?”

She braced herself, and I could tell she was dreading the thought of walking the gauntlet of dead bodies out there. “Ready,” she said, standing up and handing me back the data chip. “I never liked this war, Frank. But now, I’m starting to hate it.”

“No one who’s in the middle of a war likes it, Bayta,” I said, gently stroking the back of her neck. “But it’ll be over soon.”

She shivered. “Or at least, our part will be.”

I swallowed. “Yes,” I agreed. “It will.”

* * *

We were standing on the platform, waiting while Morse used his EuroUnion Security Service badge to persuade Savali to let us leave the station, when I saw the scrawny Filly from our ill-fated train emerge from the message center. I watched as he turned his back on us and headed toward one of the trains heading toward the Bellidosh Estates-General.

The message I’d sent Riijkhan had gotten through.

And with that, the last of my cards had been played. All that was left was to play out the hand, and see how those cards stacked up against everyone else’s.

To see whether we would live or die.

Across the platform, the Shonkla-raa agent boarded his train. Distantly, I wondered if I’d ever see him again.

The torchyacht trip to Earth was as fast and secure as Hardin had promised it would be. We held endless discussions about strategy and tactics, but what impressed me most was that Hardin’s cuisine was the best I’d tasted since we’d left Ambassador ChoDar’s Peerage car back at Venidra Carvo.

We landed at Hardin’s private spaceport on Long Island late at night, where by prearrangement a heavier than usual contingent of his security force was waiting to meet us. There we said our last farewells to Terese before she, Rebekah, Morse, and a security team left on one of Hardin’s air transports to take her on the last leg of her long and tangled journey home.

Even now, after all we’d been through together, she wouldn’t talk to Bayta or me about her home and family, or even where home actually was. But I didn’t press the point. For one thing, I figured she’d earned a little respect, which for her translated into whatever bits of privacy she could scrape together.

For another, I already knew who and where her family was.

The rest of us boarded another transport and headed in the opposite direction to Hardin’s western Idaho estate, where his main security force training center was also located. The two hundred men and women McMicking had requested were already assembled, and after a short night’s sleep we got to work.

Eight weeks later, we were ready.

* * *

“The teams will leave on the schedule you’ve been given,” McMicking said to the group on our final evening. “Once you reach the Tube, each group of twenty riding on a particular Quadrail will split into pairs. Let me remind you that while you’ll all be in the same car or two, each traveling pair is to remain strictly detached from all the others except in a declared emergency situation. Any such declaration will be made by squad leaders, who will determine the proper response and how much pair interaction will be required. Clear?”

Two hundred heads bobbed in silent acknowledgment. “ESS Agent Morse will be going out with the first team,” McMicking continued. “He and his team will collect the gear and weapons, which will be shipped separately to the Veerstu transfer station. They’ll proceed to the Proteus jump-off point, assess conditions, and bring in the other teams as they arrive. Once you’re all assembled, he’ll guide you to the actual target area.”