Timothy Zahn - Judgment at Proteus

He gestured to Bayta and me. “Given the enemy attention we’re expecting Compton to draw along the way, he, Bayta, and I will be the last three to arrive, hopefully several hours after the rest of you are in position. If all goes well, we should be assembled, on the ground, and ready to move thirty-eight and a half days from now. Questions?”

This time, none of the heads moved. “All right,” McMicking said, turning to me. “Any last words of wisdom, Compton?”

“Just don’t try to take over your torchliners,” I said. “Everyone knows what rotten passengers pilots make.” It was a poor joke, but a few of them smiled politely anyway. “Aside from that, watch yourselves, remember that the Shonkla-raa have non-Shonkla-raa agents who can be almost as troublesome as they are, and keep in mind that Mr. Hardin’s tech people went to a lot of trouble creating your weapons and equipment. Treat it carefully and use it well.”

“The first transport leaves at oh-three-thirty tomorrow,” McMicking said. “Good luck, and we’ll see you on Veerstu. Dismissed.”

With a rustling of cloth and a muted clattering of chairs the men and women stood up and filed silently from the room. “Well, that’s that,” McMicking said as we watched them leave. “Any recent word from Riijkhan? I haven’t had time to check the message log lately.”

“I got one yesterday,” I told him. “I’d mentioned in my last note that I was concerned about the mobs that would come after me if I helped them take over the galaxy, so he’s now upped his offer to immunity for the Confederation and a personal fiefdom for me anywhere in the galaxy I’d like.”

“Thoughtful of him,” McMicking said. “You have any particular place in mind?”

“I was thinking about Modhra II,” I said. “Nice view, out of the way of the average mob, and there’s all that under-ice scuba diving available for recreation.”

“And maybe a little Modhran coral still left?”

“Could be,” I said. “This particular message came from Jurskala, by the way, so he’s apparently been traveling again.”

“Interesting,” McMicking said thoughtfully. “I wonder what he’s doing there.”

“Probably looking to build himself an entourage,” I said. “He’s still pressing for me to let him come to Earth for a face-to-face, and he’s certainly not going to find a preassembled army of walkers here that he can use.”

“Maybe you should tell him that Terese and Rebekah have gone off to Bellis or Misfar or somewhere,” McMicking suggested. “See if he’s still so hot to come to Earth if they’re not here.”

“No good—he’d know I’m lying,” I said. “He’s bound to have a permanent spy nest in Terra Station by now.”

“Maybe,” McMicking said. “Speaking of Rebekah and Terese, what’s the word on them?”

“I talked to Rebekah this morning,” Bayta said. “Terese’s father is still very upset that Dr. Aronobal reneged on her promise to heal Terese’s genetic disorders. Rebekah heard him tell his chief medical director yesterday that he’s never working with Filiaelians again.”

“I suppose we can count that as a small victory,” McMicking said. “But there are others out there with a handle on that kind of treatment. Maybe he can find someone else who can fix her.”

“He is trying to interest a Shorshic team in the project.” Bayta hesitated. “The big question right now is whether she’s healthy enough to bring the baby to term. Rebekah said that, under the circumstances, he’s now pressuring her to end the pregnancy.”

I thought back to Terese’s attempt, back on Venidra Carvo, to do just that. “What are Terese’s thoughts?”

“It’s strange,” Bayta said. “Three months ago, she would have jumped at the offer. But now, she’s not so sure. The baby’s moving and kicking, and all. And she’s got Rebekah there, who also has another life inside her.”

McMicking grunted. “Not exactly the same thing.”

“I know,” Bayta said. “But from Terese’s point of view it makes them almost kindred spirits. She trusts Rebekah, I think more than she trusts anyone else in the world.”

“Considering her opinion of all the rest of us, that wouldn’t be very hard,” I said.

“Don’t be cynical,” Bayta reproved me mildly. “In fact, Rebekah said Terese did ask about us the other day. Both of us. Rebekah told her we were still busy training Mr. Hardin’s team, but that we would come see her as soon as we were able. She does like us, Frank.”

“You, she likes,” I said. “Me, she probably just misses being snide to. Still, it’s a service I’m glad to provide. Maybe we can sneak over for a quick visit before we leave.”

“I think she’d like that,” Bayta said. “Aside from Rebekah, we’re the only ones she can really talk to about her baby.”

“I gather she hasn’t told her family the truth about him?” McMicking asked.

“Rebekah didn’t think she has,” Bayta said. “Knowing Terese, I’d have to agree.”

“It’s not like it’s that big a deal,” I pointed out. “I’d bet money that the Shonkla-raa coded his telepathy to work only with them, and once they’re out of the picture the kid’s extra wiring will be pretty useless. Like having a talent for some art form that doesn’t exist.” I looked at McMicking. “That answer your question?”

“And then some,” he said. “I’d like to go back to that bit about the Shonkla-raa having spies in Terra Station. If they do, they may spot Morse as he leaves with Team One. Do you think I should take them instead?”

“Isn’t it a little late to change that?” Bayta asked.

“Not really,” I said. “But I don’t think we should. It makes much more sense for you to come with us. Besides, I’m sure the ESS issues their agents some sort of Junior Disguise Kit. Morse is probably dying to play with it.”

“I’ll tell him you said that,” McMicking promised. “Better yet, I’ll tell him it came from Rick to Major Strasser. His attempts at a German accent are always so amusing.”

“I’ll have to drop in for a show someday,” I said dryly.

“You’ll enjoy every minute of it,” McMicking assured me. “Well, I’ve got a few last-minute details to work out, then it’s off to bed. You going to see Morse and the first team off?”

“I thought I would, yes,” I said.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll see you then.” With a nod to each of us, and a quick glance at the two defenders standing at their usual respectful distance, he turned and strode across the room to the door.

“I suppose we’d better do likewise,” I told Bayta as I collected my papers and other gear. “I have a feeling this slow-motion infiltration is going to drive me nuts, though. I wish we could send everyone in at the same time and be done with it.”

“You know we can’t,” Bayta said. “Aside from everything else, you’re way more subtle than that.”

“I suppose,” I conceded. “Sometimes it’s hell being me.”

She took my hand. “It’ll work, Frank,” she said quietly.

“I know,” I said. It was bad form, I remembered reading somewhere, for a commander to express doubts and fears in front of his troops. “It’s just that…”

“Shh,” she said softly. Letting go of my hand, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around me.

For a long minute we held each other. And then, through the doubts swirling around my brain an old, almost forgotten memory flicked back to mind. Something the first Chahwyn Elder I’d ever met had said as he related the history behind the Chahwyn, the Modhri, and the Quadrail system.

I will admit that we began to wonder if there was still any hope for us, or whether we and the galaxy had instead begun the long dark path to defeat, he’d said. And then, thirty years ago, you Humans burst upon the scene.