style='mso-fareast-font-family:"MS Mincho"'> 

"Well, that worked," she said to Simeon.

 

"What do you mean ? "*

 

'Tm not quite sure."

 

The fabricator would have to go back to the

machine-shop, two levels up, to be repaired. The

machines required to produce replacements for the

damaged parts could not be disassembled until the

work was done.

 

Belazir moved a squadron of light cruisers to a new

quadrant and sat back. So, he thought.

 

Amazing. Channahap was fighting him to a standstill

in this strategy game. She had actually won one of the

earlier rounds. A very, very good player; few Kolnari

senior officers could have done better, and war-game

tournaments were one of the main ways they filled

their leisure.

 

"The Channahap does well?" Serig said. He looked

over his commander's shoulder into the Bride's display

tank, then reran the opening moves on a smaller

screen nearby. "Well, indeed."

 

Belazir nodded. What a woman! he thought

enthusiastically. He had stopped referring to her as

scumvermin to himself some time ago. The battle of

delay and lies she had waged against him was just as skill-

ful and tricky as the war games. It was a true pity she was

not of the Divine Seed; an even greater pity that she

would not live very many years in the environment of the

Clan's ships. Outsiders rarely found the air, food, and

 

r.

 

THE Cny WHO FOUGHT

 

357

 

water of Kolnar life-supporting. Certainly the Kolnari's

own ancestors had not, until they adapted.

 

But I vritt enjoy her greatly while she lives.

 

"Now, these reports," he went on to Serig. "They read

like the ravings of the insane. What do they mean?"

 

"An excellent question, my lord. One that I should

like to ask some of these scumvermin."

 

"You consider this to be the result of enemy action?"

 

"It seems reasonable to me, my lord. Drugs to the

troops affected. Or, they may know something about

these phenomena."

 

Belazir considered his second. "Or they may know

nothing. It could even be some sabotage scheme of

Aragiz, difficult though that is to believe. Or a side-effect

of this... illness."

 

"Bad for morale either way, my lord. And the illness

itself may be a weapon."

 

He nodded. "Very well. Take five slaves, chosen at

random, none critical to the station's function, and tor-

ture them."

 

"Only five, my lord?" Serig's soft voice expressed

astonishment.

 

"These are an unusually soft and sensitive people,"

Belazir answered. "Five will be quite sufficient More

would cause panic. For now, let the scumvermin as a

whole remain calm and complacent and cooperative.

Let them panic later at a time of our choosing. Hmm?

Torture the 6ve for the information we need on this Ñ

phenomenon. If they know nothing, take others."

 

"Shall I broadcast that?"

 

"No, no, Serig. If we broadcast our ignorance, we

make plain that there is something our warriors fear. If

it is enemy action, they will know what we seek Ñ or

the next five."

 

Serig bowed from the waist. "Very good, my lord."

 

Belazir returned his attention to the game.

 

***

 

358

 

AmuMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

 

"Why?" Channa asked.

 

"You will take your hands from my desk and you will

stand straight," Bdazir told her calmly, pointing a slender

dagger at her. He stared at Channa until she complied.

 

"Two of those people are probjlbly going to die," she

whispered, breathing hard. "Lord and God. They

were tortured"    ^!

 

"Of course they were. I ordered it so."

 

"ButaAp?"

 

He stood and walked slowly around the desk to

stand dose behind her, then spoke softly into her ear.

"We are conquerors. We do not explain our actions.

This is not a game such as we play in your quarters,

lovely Channa, this is reality."

 

She carefully folded her hands before her and

lowered her eyes.

 

"I apologize for my impetuousness," she said hum-

bly. "I was trained to take my duties seriously, and

sometimes this makes me rash. It's why I must ask

about this terrible matter. I can't believe that you enjoy

doing such things." She looked at him appealingly over

her shoulder. "Please don't hurt my people."

 

"And you lie so badly," he said. He studied her face

for a moment. "My troops," he went on thoughtfully,

"spoke of'things' flickering at the corners of their eyes,

of Voices' murmuring things not quite heard."

 

"What has that got to do with us?"

 

He walked around her and sat on a corner of his

desk. "Perhaps nothing, perhaps everything. That is

what we wanted to know."

 

"And it never occurred to you that perhaps something

in the mixture of gases that we breath might cause this

effect in your people? Or that these 'things' flickeringjust

out of sight might be an infestation of insects..."

 

"Oh no, they were, according to the reports, much

too large to be mere insects."

 

"Some other vermin, then."

 

THE cnr WHO FOUGHT

 

359

 

"Doubtful."

 

"Well, what about my first suggestion, perhaps our

atmosphere requires adjustment?"

 

"Possible."

 

"Then perhaps you qpuld send some volunteers to

our medical center for tests."

 

Belazir laughed. "No. We know that a virus is loose.

However, we have no interest in a cure for it. If it causes

troops to become nonfunctional, we will kill them our-

selves. Unless it endangers this mission, we will take no

countermeasures."

 

Channa gaped for a moment.

 

"We did not become the Divine Seed," he continued,

"by pampering weakness. After in-vesting so much

capital and time in training, it is, however, inconvenient

to have adults die. When we return, we will spread the

virus ourselves, quite deliberately, among the children

of the High Clan. If this sickness is your doing, you do

us a service Ñ as do those who ambush our troops in

the corridors. It reduces the ranks of imperfect Seeds."

 

"Ah, she is magnificent," he quoted softly to himself

in his own language. "Her stride is the lightning strik-

ing. In her right hand is a sword of flame, in her left

the goad of pain. Her voice is the shriek of the north

wind. In her eyes flash comets, portents of wonder,

and her hair is a storm at midnight. Between her

thighs is the road to Paradise. I look upon her and my

strength rises, yet I rage without fulfillment." He

leaned closer and Channa could feel his breath on

her lips.

 

Well, Simeon thought, that last bit rather neatly sums up

my relationship with Charma. He relayed a running trans-

lation.

 

"You've made a real conquest, Happy."

 

"ThatÑisÑnot Ñfunny" Channa subvocalized.

 

The Kolnari touched her lighdy with the point of

the dagger, then returned to his chair, leaving her

 

360

 

Anne McCaffrey fc? 5JVf. Stirling

 

shivering where she stood. He touched his tongue

to the bead of blood on the steel.

 

"Perhaps," Belazir said, his voice amused, "I should

take you with me when we go. I would give you some-

thing to fight besides boredcgn. You deserve the

challenge." Then he smiled. "You may go."

 

Channa turned and walked away on shaking legs.

When she was in the elevator, she vented her frustra-

tion in a savage tone.

 

"I really want to kill him, Simeon. I can see myself

doing it, just what I would do, and I think I would

enjoy it." She paused. "See how bad company corrupts

my morals?"

 

"What did you think of that poem?"

 

"I wasn't listening."

 

"I think he was trying to flatter you."

 

" 'Her voice is like the shrieking of the north wind1?"

 

"I thought you weren't listening?"

 

"Well, I caughti/wi." She laughed weakly. "Never tel

a woman her voice reminds you of something shriek-

ing. It won't win you any points."

 

"Important dating dp, Channa, thank you."

 

"Oh... I love you, Simeon. You keep me sane. And

the Prince of Darkness can Ñ"

 

"Ñ eat shit and die." / love you too, Channa, and you

drive me crazy.

 

* CHAFrtRTWENTY-ONE

 

Another point of light flared in the holo tank.

 

"You have destroyed my dreadnought," Belazir said,

surprise and amusement in his voice. He looked up at

Channa. She was sweating heavily, strings of black hair

plastered to her forehead. The Kolnari was calm as

ever as he took another draught of the sparkling water

flavored with metal salts.

 

"That makes ..." He paused to recollect. "Seventy-

five wins for me and three for you. Ah, well." He

dapped his hands, and attendants brought his equip-

ment. "Enough pleasure; there is work to be done."

 

"Okay, people," Simeon said. The voices died down.

"We've got a little time. You-know-who's sleeping the

sleep of the wicked."

 

The screens went silent, and so did the litde dutch of

men and women seated around the lounge table.

 

"They're going to be more or less finished in one

more day-cycle," he went on.

 

"One?" Amos said. "They have more items marked

for shipping than they could handle in one day."

 

"Trust me. I've been eavesdropping. They're doing

that to fool us. Nearly fooled me! Only their top people

know."

 

"How long has it been?" Patsy whispered.

 

"Sixteen days," Simeon said.

 

Doctor Chaundra swallowed. "A hundred dead.

Many times that are ... injured, in various ways. We

cannot endure more of this."

 

362

 

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. Stating

 

"We won't have to. One more day, and we're saved

or we're all dead."

 

"Hie Navy?" Joseph said.

 

"They dropped a scout into the system today,"

Simeon replied. His image raised a hand to stem die

babble. "It's heavily stealthed. I have the recognition

codes, or I'd never have detected it. Yes, the flotilla is

coming.

 

"They should be here, and soon. However, we've got

to have a plan for the worst case.** He paused before he

could go on. "The worst case is the Navy doesn't get

here quite in time. We've got to give it our best shot.

The Kolnari've got a lot of their people spread out, and

their ships docked. They're planning on keeping it that

way until the last minute. I've figured out a few

indicators that'll tell me right down to the minute."

 

Channa swallowed and nodded. One of them would

be Belazir coining to take her off to the Dreadful Bride.

 

"The battle platform will undock first. When they

start that, we've got to begin our uprising! If we can cut

enough of them ofFfrom their ships and keep the ships

from undocking Ñ I've got some plans on that tactic Ñ¥

then they can't blow the station."

 

Amos nodded somberly. "The cost... the cost in lives

will be very high. But there is no alternative."

 

"We cannot fight for long," Joseph said. "A delaying

action at best. They have the weapons, armor,

organization. And they need not fear damage to the

station. They will use their onwatch ships to force-dock

through the hull, outflank us. We have no real

weapons."

 

"How many times have we gamed the uprising?"

Amos said, rubbing his hand across his face. "Forty,

fifty? Not once have we won, no matter if you or I

command."

 

Simeon nodded. "Better to die on your feet than die

on your knees," he said. Grim smiles greeted the sally.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

363

 

Most of them had seen his tapes of the Warsaw Ghetto.

"I can disorganize them a lot more than they expect,"

he went on. "We've got some weapons, too."

 

They all looked at the column.

 

"Mikesun?" he said. .

 

The section repcwas haggard and drawn, as you

would expect from someone who had been working in

cramped quarters for more than two weeks.

 

"I've got them unpacked and ready," he said. His

hands moved into the light. "'Bout a thousand. Plus

the explosives you told us to get ready."

 

Suddenly he had a needier in his hands. A huge

chunky-looking thing, of no make any of them recog-

nized.

 

"Where on ... where did you get those, Simeon?**

Channa asked.

 

"Ah, um." Simeon sounded slightly embarrassed,

she thought. "Well, you know how 1 like to collect stufE

They were cheap Ñ a ship needed some fuel bad and

didn't have credit. And I just liked the thought of

having my own arsenal. 'Someday we might need this

kind of stuff.' I was right, wasn't I?"

 

"Yes, bless you," she said simply, because the relief

she felt at seeing honest-to-God weapons was so

intense.

 

Somebody swore. "Why haven't we had those before

now? I've had my people attacking Kolnari patrols

with their bare hands Ñ"

 

"Because we couldn't let them take us seriously too

soon!" Channa said sharply. "Any sort of formal

weaponry would have alerted them. We had to do as

much damage as we could without such assists, until

the last moment. They won't be expecting us to have

needlers. We'll have surprise and shock on our side."

 

Amos leaned forward, more warmth in his tone than

was usual when he spoke to the brain." How are they to

be distributed?"

 

364

 

Amu McCaffrey &? SJVf. Stirling

 

"Remember when I said I'd put some other stuff that

might be useful in the sealed-off sections? And Patsy

and Joat've been mixing stuff around, too, through the

passageways."

 

"With a thousand needlers -3-" Amos began, and

then shrugged, oddly hopeless. Joseph nodded.

 

"Hmm. What make are those?" Patsy said, with a

spark of her old interest

 

"Ursinar manufacture," Simeon said. "Obscure

race, big and hairy, always insisted that it was their right

to arm bears."    *¥'

 

"This may only prolong the agony and delay the

inevitable," Amos said. "So little against so much."

Then he shook himself. "Still, it is better to die fight-

ing."

 

"Hell, better to win and live," Simeon said.

 

"In the meantime," Amos said, standing and sweep-

ing his eyes from screen to screen, "push them hard.

They are incapable of resisting a territorial challenge

from a weaker opponent Ñ even when it would be

logical to pull back. Take more risks."

 

Well, he takes as many as the rest of us do, Channa

thought. Quite the little commander all the same. Wry

amusement colored her exhaustion.

 

"Security monitor's locked," Joat said. "Now, your bit"

 

Seld went to the electronics access panel and began

fiddling with its innards. Then he inserted the hedron

he had prepared. The resulting picture would be dis-

torted in the way the security computers had been

since the pirate worm program went in. But they would

distort the images of Joat and Seld in selective ways.

Making them appear taller, much darker...

 

Joat went in die opposite direction, placing herself at

the end of the corridor in the lookout's position.

 

When he had finished he joined her and tapped her

shoulder. "Time," he whispered.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

365

 

¥Just a sec." She opened her pack and withdrew a

monocrystal filament dispenser. The thread was a

molecule in diameter but incredibly strong. Dangerous

to handle, too. Thinner than the thinnest knife-blade

could ever be.

 

"What are you gonna do with that?" he asked puz-

zled. "I thought you were planting something."

 

"Stick around and you'll see," she said, waggling her

eyebrows.

 

She knelt beside the wall and attached an end of the

beryllium monocrystal filament to the corridor panel at

about knee height Using the tiny laser that was part of

the dispenser, the end was soldered into place, leaving

a slight stickiness when she touched the wall. She

reeled out the invisible fiber and tacked the other end

to the opposite wall, keeping a careful mental image of

where it was.

 

Seld turned pale. "You can't... you know what that

stuff does!"

 

"Sure do," she said smugly. "Ol1 Jack-of-All-Trades is

gonna give new meaning to 'cut off at the knees.' *

 

"You can't," he said, and grabbed her arm. "They're

bastards, but they're... they're sentients. You can't be

maiming them like that." His voice had taken on a

tinge of his father's accent again, but he was shaking

with tension. Drops of sweat broke out at the edge of

his reddish-brown hair. "It's evil! What are you think-

ing about?"

 

She snatched her arm from his grip. "I'm thinking

about what they did. Tortured people. What they did to

Patsy, and your friend Juke. I'm thinking about

payback."

 

He licked his lips. "Not like this, I won't have any-

thing to do with it Couldn't you just... kill them clean?

C'mon,Joat?"

 

She pushed him back with her shoulder and tacked

another line through at about waist height for a taD adult

 

366

 

Anne McCaffny fc? SM. Stirling

 

"Sim says," she went on, drawing three more lines

about shin-height, "that cutting the enemy up is better

than killin' 'em. Shakes them up more, and they gotta

take care of them."

 

"If we do stuff like this, how are we different from

them?"

 

She turned on him, snarling. '"Cause we live here and

we're not doing this forfunl Or to make a nardy credit

offit!"

 

Seld sat down abruptly against the corridor wall.

 

"Seld?" she said, her fage smoothing out abruptly

and her voice changing. "Seld, you okay? You need

your meds?"

 

"I'm okay. I just. .. I just don't like you as much

when you're like this, Joat. And I really like you. You

know?"

 

Sometimes I don't like me much, Joat thought. She

turned away and blew out her lips in exasperation.

"Don't go buckawbuckaw on me now, Seld, 'cause it's

gonna get worse around here before it gets better. If it

gets better." Everything always gets worse.

 

He raised his head from his knees. "If I'm going to

die soon I want to die clean," he said. "Gimme your

V-pills."

 

"Why?"

 

"Lost mine."

 

"Okay." They were supposed to take the pill if they

came into contact with a Kolnari. Joat didn't intend to,

or to live if she did. Seld pocketed the pills and stalked

off toward his own escape route.

 

She pursed her lips and tacked a new line to the wall

at the opening of the connecting corridor, at what she

estimated as head-height for a Kolnari.

 

Then she ducked under it by a wide margin, tip-toed

back toward the first line. She stopped well short of it

and listened.

 

Come on, you gruntfudders, she thought. Rzrdling move.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

367

 

They should be amazed that it was taking the first patrol

so long to respond. She went to stand by the sabotaged

panel and listened, hearing only the pounding of her

own heart, which felt as if it wanted to tear free ofher thin

chest. Then at last, her quick ears caught the sound of

movement. She counted to five and began to retreat

toward the second line. She entered the corridor just as

she heard a shouted "Halt!" in KolnarL

 

Perfect, she thought, all they saw was the coveraW They

hadn't said halt, scumvermin, either.

 

A couple of shots were fired; light weapons, needles

spanging off metal. The squad leader barked an order

for cease fire and pursuit. Feet tapped the mesh cover-

ing of the corridor, in the distinctive long strides of the

pirates.

 

Screams rang down the corridor, clanging and echo-

ing in the dose space. Joat leaned forward from where

she crouched and looked out around the corner. There

was a malicious grin on her face, but it died at what she

saw. Two of the Kolnari soldiers lay on the floor in a small

pond of blood, hanging over the ultrastrong invisible

wire that had sawn through their legs and opened them

up from navel to backbone like a butterflied shrimp. As

she watched, a body fell to the ground in two pieces, and

there was so much, so much blood and guts and all the

colors, and a pink-purple lung...

 

One Kolnari trooper reached toward her severed

legs and cut her hand in half to the wrist. Two fingers

flopped uselessly as she clutched her arm and

screamed and screamed, not in pain or fear but sheer

terror of the invisible something that had killed her.

 

"Oh, multi grudly," Joat whispered to herself. The

sound of the words against what she saw was so out of

place that she felt hysterical giggles bubbling up.

Something warned her that that sort of giggling would

be very difficult to stop once it started, so she backed

away. Her eyes were huge saucers in her thin pale face.

 

368

 

Anne McCaffwy &SM. Strrimg

 

At the other end of Joat's corridor was one of

Simeon's hidden elevators. She tossed the wire spool

out into the corridor before she entered it. Behind her

there were shouts: the next enemy squad. From the

ringing sounds, they tested to find the wires with the

barrels of their weapons. There was a double thud as

one unwary Kolnari turned too iast into the corridor

and decapitated himself on the final trap.

 

Moving briskly, Joat exited the elevator three levels

up and entered an access corridor meant for electrical

repairs. She transferred tcÈone of the small ventilation

shafts and dragged herself quickly and efficiently to a

larger open area where an array of the shafts met. She

was safe here: it was one of her bases, with a pallet and

some ration boxes as well as tools pilfered from

Engineering, if you could call it pilfering when they

handed them to you willingly. They were calling Joat

the "Spirit of SSS-900-C," or Simeon's Gremlin.

 

Then she was violendy sick to her stomach. Servos

arrived, clicking and cheeping to themselves, and

cleaned up the mess.

 

Joat lay down, cradling her face on her arms, and

wept bitterly. Long wracking sobs, like nothing she

could remember.

 

'Joat... honey, have you been hurt?" Simeon's voice

was soft and warm, like a vaguely remembered some-

thing that once held her.

 

She lifted a face flushed with weeping, but her lips

were white.

 

"I'm not as tough as I thought," she said through her

sobs. "I didn't think ... Shit, no! I've gotta heart like a

rock. That's me, Joat the killer! Did you hear me snanc-

ing Seld for a wuss?" A cough racked her, and she

wiped her eyes on the back of her hands. "He'll hate

me! I hate myself! It was so Ñ" And she threw herself

down and bit the mattress. An eerie crooning wail

echoed through the corridor.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

369

 

"Shhh, it's all right, it's all right."

 

"I wanna go home!"

 

"Joat. Joat, honey. I'm with you. You are home.

You'll always have a home with me. / don't hate you,

Joat. You're not bad, honey. But sometimes things get

through to the good part of you that doesn't like the

tough part of you, and that's what just happened."

 

The servos rolled forward and tucked a blanket

around her. Simeon began to croon, directing it at her

ears where she hugged the blanket about her head and

only tufts of hair escaped.

 

"IwantCharma"

 

I can't hold her, Simeon thought But I can smg....

 

"Do you call me liar to my face, Aragiz?" Belazir said.

 

"My people were killed," Aragiz t'Varak replied.

"Security recorded Kolnari setting the trap, perhaps

thinking to throw the blame on scumvermin. I knew

scumvermin could notÑ"

 

"Do you give me the lie, t'Varak?"

 

The other captain stopped, torn between unwilling-

ness to retract and inability to attack. Belazir was under

no such constraints.

 

"Did it never occur to you, oh so straightforward

cousin, that it might be scumvermin posing as Clan?

That they are as capable of playing on our divisions as

we are on theirs?"

 

"You call me dupe of scumvermin?"

 

"I say that you bare me, Lord Captain Aragiz t'Varak.

You bore me beyond words, beyond bearing. Your

existence makes die universe a place of tedium beyond

belief!"

 

Aragiz's face relaxed, into a soft, welcoming smile.

"When?"

 

"When Lord Captain Pol t'Veng's judgement is ful-

filled. To the fist" Adeath-duel in die old manner, with

spiked steel gloves.

 

370

 

Anne McCaffrey W SM. Sorting

 

"And now," Belazir went on, "get your household

and all else to your ship." Quick suspicion marked the

other captain's face. "Yes, 1 know you were massing

your groundfighters. There is no time for feud here,

t'^rak. Believe me."    È

 

The screen blanked. Serig took a step forward, an

eyebrow raised.   ,

 

"Lord, he is the dolt you named rum. There is noth-

ing wrong with his reflexes, though."

 

"As it may be," Belazir said. "I spoke the truth. It

drives me to fury to have to call that one cousin, it truly

does." He shook his head. Today, we triumph, Serig.

By running, yes: but triumph nonetheless. So, we Ñ"

 

The dockside guards' chimes rang through the

bridge. "Great Lord, we have a scumvermin female,

claiming to have information for you."

 

Serig chuckled. There had been a fair number of

scumvermin females coming to the dock and asking for

Belazir. Some few he had taken himself, and passed the

others on to Serig or the crew.

 

"No, wait," Belazir said. "Information of what?"

 

"A conspiracy, involving the scumvermin leaders-

that-were and die prey-ship, lord."

 

"Send her up." Belazir looked at Serig and

shrugged. "Why not?"

 

Waiting was swift. "I would speak with you alone,

Master," the woman said, looking meaningfully at

Serig.

 

"I am generous to women," Belazir declared. Quite

true, or she would never have reached him. "So

generous I did not hear you, scumvermin."

 

She blinked and swallowed hard, looking from one

to the other.

 

"Why have you come?"

 

"The... they held me prisoner, Master and Gggg Ñ"

Even then, she could not quite bring herself to utter the

blasphemy. Then Belazir looked up at her, and she felt

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

371

 

herself huddle down behind the barrier of her skull,

knowing it was not enough. So a sicatooth looked at a

 

lamb.

 

"Ñ God," she completed, uncertain if it was the

obscene honorific they demanded or a prayer, "I... I

have information." She sfemmered, put a hand to her

face. / escaped, she thought They must be really conspir-

ing against her Ñ against Amos, as well. Holding her

from him. She whimpered slightly. She could remember

his words of love, the promises Ñ and nightmares of

rejection, of failure. The brass-colored eyes were waiting.

 

"I am Rachel bint Damscus. I am from Bethel. I was

on the ship that you were chasing. Forty of us survived

the journey and took refuge on this station."

 

Neither of the Kolnari moved or spoke.

 

"So ... you are from Bethel?" Belazir leaned his

head on his fist. One finger caressed his lower lip.

"Turn your head. Stand. Bend. Sit once more."

 

Belazir turned to Serig. "Possible," he said medita-

tively. "Similar scumvermin race, but there are many

varieties here."

 

"Unlikely, lord."

 

Belazir nodded. And in any case academic. They

were nearly ready to go. If they have deceived us, what mat-

ter'? The memory of his slap in the face of the Bride's

joss came back to him. Perhaps the old customs had

some real strength after all....

 

She stared at him. There was something odd about

her eyes, Belazir decided. Her lips trembled, and her

fingers, but not in terror; he could always identify that.

Some nerve disorder, perhaps? He leaned forward and

snuffed. Not a healthy scent.

 

"Yes." She nodded once, sharply. "Master and God."

 

"Why do you tell me this? Surely you know that it is

dangerous?"

 

The woman began to tremble with rage, and tears

filled her eyes.

 

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Amu McCaffrey fcf S. M. Starting

 

"She ... that black-haired, black-hearted whore

seduced my betrothed! She promised him power! But

she lied. He plays the fool for her, does what she tells

him, sleeps in her bed ..." Her voice broke and she

stopped, swallowed a few times before she could speak

again. "Hie one you have been told is Simeon-Amos is

truly Amos, the leader who brought us here from

Bethel. The real Simeon is a shellperson, a thing they

call a brain, and he is still running this station."

 

"A... shellperson?" Belazir t'Marid dosed his eyes

for a moment "Ah! We have heard, but never seen."

 

Serig leaned down to him. "Lord, a sort of protein

computer, no? But our worm subverted their system

and holds it in our fist Would we not have known?"

 

"It would explain anomalies," Belazir said, chasing

the elements that made him believe the impossible

"And Ñ ah! I am as great a fool as Aragiz t'Varak!"

 

"Surely not, lord," Serig said, surprised. "Not on

your worst day. Not on my worst day. Not on the worst

day of this scumvermin womb here."

 

"I was about to dismiss this, time being short Dismiss

potentially the richest single piece of loot on the

station!"

 

"A shellperson is so much?"

 

"A strategic asset," Belazir said. "Come, we will look

into this. It is time, in any case."

 

He turned his eyes back to the scumvermin. From all

he could see, she was manic-depressive, swinging from

healthy, normal terror to an exalted state where she

had complete confidence in his interest, in his support

As if he were a player in her play...

 

"Mad," he said. "Yet... My vanity, perhaps, but little

Channahap plays the war game far too well. An

encysted brain, tied to great computers and their data

banks, though?" He cocked an eyebrow at Rachel.

 

"I can only tell you what I have heard," the woman

said, babbling in her desire to be believed. "I have been

 

ir

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

373

 

told that they are people who have been put into a

casing as infants and that they then become like a com-

puter." She wrung her hands and looked desperately

from one to the other. "I'm telling you the truth. They

are plotting against you. Master and God!"

 

Belazir smiled ii\poflte agreement "Of course they

are." On that, at least, they were agreed. He rose.

"Come, we will go and talk to them." He turned to

Serig. "Have Baila tell Channahap that I will see her in

her office. Tell her to have Simeon-Amos there as well."

 

Simeon spoke, interrupting Channa at her work sta-

tion. "Channa, Belazir t'Bastard is heading this way

with Rachel in tow. I don't know what's up, but he's

looking both grim and pleased."

 

Before Channa could speak, the comm chimed and

Baila's face appeared.

 

"Channahap," she said. "The Lord Captain t'Marid

is on his way to your office. You will await him there.

He commands the presence of Simeon-Amos. Obey."

The screen went dark.

 

"Shit" Channa said, and tapped her fingers

thoughtfully. "You're right, Simeon, this does not look

good. I am so sick of that girl. She's driving me... crazy.

Simeon?"

 

"You're right on the button about her state of mind,

Channa. Our Rachel's crazy, not just going crazy but

absolutely nuts, gonzo, a sandwich shy of a picnic,

packin' a short seabag..."

 

"Sim!"

 

"Right, I'll have Chaundra draw up a case history

about some kind of dementia. You brief Simeon-Amos,

111 spread the word."

 

"You got it. Simeon-Amos," she said over the inter-

com, "get in here."

 

"And Channa?"

 

"Yes?"

 

374

 

Ame McCaffny fc? SM. Stirling

 

"I think this is it. The battle platform just started

severing its stationside power leads. We've got a real

opportunity to hurt them hard if we can get Belazir out

of comm with his people. It could make the difference."

 

Channa nodded. She had bedn prepared to try an

assassination on the Bride, but that, at best, was

unlikely. Fear was remote: no time for it

 

"Simeon-Amos," she began, when he entered the

lounge. "Belazir's coming, with Rachel." His face froze.

"Here's what we're going to do Ñ no time for an

argument-"

 

The crates made gentle plopping noises as they slid

out of the meter-deep green water of the algae pools

and stood dripping on the slotted metal of the

walkways. Ships had a closed system of tubing and

enclosed tanks, but this arrangement Ñ open metal

rectangles stacked like trays Ñ was more efficient for a

station. The environment systems workers moved

quickly, without wasted effort or much talking. This

had not been a cheerful section since their chief

returned to them, but there was a stolid satisfection as

the vac-covers were peeled back and the weapons went

from hand to hand among the hundred or so tech-

nicians, office workers, and laborers.

 

Patsy Sue Coburn watched the needlers emerge,

brutal and compact. She slung one over her shoulder.

Ursinid weapons were submachinegun size for

humans. Then she reached into the pool and retrieved

her arc pistol, stripping off the plastic film.

 

"Wait for it," she whispered. If the Kolnari made one

last swing through on their usual routes, they'd be by

in half an hour or so.

 

The crew were crowding around the supervisors,

getting a quick lesson on how to use a needier to best

effect. Luckily, the weapons had simple controls: set the

dial on the side to the full clockwise position and take

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

375

 

up the trigger slack. Look down the barrel at the target

and pull the trigger. Line of sight weapons with little

recoil at short ranges, they should do well enough.

 

And they're all we've got, she reminded herself. She felt

completely calm. In a way, she had been calm since she

woke and saw Joan's face floating before her, like a

ghost's in its pool of light. There was a feeling under

that, a feeling that when she wasn't calm anymore, it

was going to be very, very bad.

 

"Reckon I kin wait fer it," she told herself.

 

The others were looking at her.

 

'Just wait 'n till they come around," she said patiendy

for the hundredth time. "Simeon'11 keep us all in touch."

I hope, /purely do. "Now, when they git here, you burn 'em

down. Then go down axial G-8 an' hit the bunch of'em

there. ArnosTl be by about then. If not him, then me."

 

She nodded curtly and slung the needier further

around to her back, freeing her hands for the climb up

the interval ladder. The entrance to the venting system

was where she would rendezvous with JoaL Not a dif-

ficult climb at first, since these were the biggest vents on

the station. The circle effaces fell away below her,

growing tiny amid the rectangular Escher shapes of

the ponds and the huge color-coded maze of pipes for

nutrient and water and waste.

 

Amos stood impassively behind Channa, hands

clasped at his back. They dropped to a knee as Belazir

entered. He took the seat before her desk, gestured to

Channa to sit. The squad of soldiers began to crowd

into the small office. The t'Marid snapped out an order

in his own language and all but two of them withdrew.

 

Rachel stood beside his chair. She glared at Channa

and then turned away, her fists clenched by her sides.

To Amos she smiled tremulously.

 

Definitely, as Sim would say, a few cans short of a sixpack,

Channa decided. She looks as if she's rescuing Am.

 

376

 

ArmeMcCaffrey&SM. Stating

 

Channa folded her hands in her lap. "Master and

God, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

 

Belazir smiled and indicated Rachel with his hand. "I

have been given some interesting information.*'

 

"1 have told him everything!" Rachel said spitefully.

 

Channa and Amos regarded her blankly, then shook

their heads and turned to Belazir.; ;

 

"Everything?" Channa asked.

 

"She has told me that she and forty others survived

the trip from Bethel, and that this man," he flicked his

chin at Amos, "is her betrothed. She tells me that he is

pretending to be Simeon and that the real Simeon is in

feet a brain in a container or some such thing, who is

running this station and the resistance to the High

Clan."

 

He folded his hands and regarded her calmly. "This

truth would solve certain difficulties,

 

Channa fought not to smile, making her eyes wide

with disbelief. Belazir studied her closely. Amusement

was not what he had anticipated.

 

"Simeon-Amos," she said at last, "please inform Doc-

tor Chaundra that Rachel has been found and ask him

to come and fetch her. Advise him that he may need

some form of chemical restraint."

 

Belazir raised an eyebrow.

 

Channa looked to the t'Marid for permission for

Amos to comply. Belazir flicked his fingers. Amos

nodded and went into his own office to make the call.

 

"She lies yet again, lord," Rachel said, but she fell

silent at a second flick of Belazir's hand.

 

Channa assumed an understanding expression.

"This young woman is deranged. We don't restrain her

because usually she is harmless and so are her fan-

tasies. A tragic case, very resistant to psychotherapy."

 

"Foul whore Ñ" Rachel began, urgently stepping

forward.

 

Belazir made a chopping motion with his hand. A

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

377

 

jruard stepped forward and Rachel shut her mouth

with an audible snap.

 

"Who is she, then?" he asked.

 

"We don't actually know," Channa said. "She was

abandoned here, apnarendy by some transient mer-

chanter. She had no I.D. No one came forward with any

information about her. The doctor isn't sure if her

insanity is the result of drugs or trauma. He says the only

way to be one hundred percent sure is to do an autopsy,

which obviously is out or the question. She's usually very

sweet, at worst a mild nuisance. Perhaps the condi-

tions ..." and Channa made a vague motion with her

hand to suggest that the occupation might have added to

her instability. Channa made herselflean back casually in

her chair, appearing at ease. "Perhaps it's a sign of

progress that she is this aware of, ah, current events,

Master and God. She must have concocted this fentasy

about Bethel from the newstapes, for example."

 

Rachel exploded. "She lies!" She lunged for Chan-

na, coming up with a jerk when the guard pulled her

back by her long hair. Her gorgon's mask of rage did

not even register the pain. She struggled briefly and

then subsided as Amos came back into the room.

"Amos," she pleaded, weeping, "help me!"

 

He looked at her with sympathy.

 

"Of course, I will help you, Rachel," he said. His

mellow voice rang with sincerity. "We all wish to help

you." He leaned close to Channa. "The doctor is on his

way, Ms. Hap."

 

"No!" Rachel screamed. "No! How can you do this to

me? She is using you, my love! Do not betray me!

Please ..." Tears began to leak down her long nose.

"Please... please."

 

Channa's stomach twisted. She is crazy. Probably

curably crazyÑmost were. Irritation faded before pity,

and pity faded before the threat of the Kolnari putting

any weight into Rachel's tale.

 

378

 

Amu McCaffrty 6? SM. StirUng

 

Amos' sympathy was achingly real

 

"There, there," he said soothingly. "You are ill,

Rachel. Daddy will call the doctor to make it right" He

offered the rag doll he was carrying. "You can have

Siminta with you." He pressed it infc> her hands.

 

For a moment Rachel's sobs stopped and she stared

at him in confusion. "What?" she: said. "You are my

betrothed, not myfatherl" She looked down at the doU,

then dashed it to the floor and stamped her foot "Stop

mocking me!"

 

Amos shifted uneasily. %cannot keep up with this.

May I be excused until Doctor Chaundra comes?"

 

"It might be best," Chaima said, addressing Belazir.

 

The t'Marid's eyes flicked over the three of them.

"Daddy?" he said dubiously, then quirked an involun-

tary smile.

 

Channa sighed. "Last week, she thought she was five

years old and Simeon-Amos was her father. She would

start to cry if he left the room. For some reason, she's

totally fixated on him. Chaundra supposes that he

resembles whoever dropped her on us. We don't

know."

 

"Lies!" Rachel shrieked. "Lies."

 

"The doctor should be here by now," Amos said,

clearly uncomfortable. He picked up the doll and

placed it carefully on a chair. "Ah ... she will grieve

later if it isn't there."

 

"You may go," Belazir said to him. His eyes never left

Channa's.

 

Chaundra strode in. He walked over to the weeping

girl and touched her shoulder gently. "Poor Rachel,"

he said soothingly, "poor little girl."

 

"Doctor," t'Marid said sharply. Chaundra turned

and stood very straight, looking down. "This is your

patient?"

 

"Yes, Master and God."

 

"I do not appreciate having my time wasted on the

 

THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

379

 

daydreams of this madwoman. If she is so much as seen

again Ñ no, no point. You may go. Wait You have

records of her illness? I want to see them."

 

"Yes, Master and God, but I can't access them from

this computer. Medical records are on a dosed system

to protect the privacy Sf the patient"

 

Belazir made an impatient, dismissive gesture.

"Serig," he said. "See to it then back to the Bride, con-

tinue on the matter we were planning. I will join you

shortly." Serig bowed deeply.

 

"At your command, lord," he said, his teeth showing

slightly in cold amusement "The doll, too?"

 

Belazir snorted. "Go, insolence.

 

Rachel took a deep breath and seemed to fight for

dignity; the twitching lessened in her face. "They are

lying, Master and God, you will see. I am telling the

truth."

 

That ended in a squawk as Serig turned her about

and pushed between her shoulderblades. She ran to

avoid felling, and the door hissed open before her.

 

"Now," Belazir snarled. Chaundra followed.

 

In the strained silence that followed, Belazir and

Channa studied each other.

 

At last Belazir spoke. "Have your man return."

 

Channa pressed the intercom button, "Simeon-

Amos, would you come in here, please?"

 

"This Rachel is in love with you," t'Marid observed, a

hint of laughter in the yellow eyes.

 

"I confess," Amos said bitterly, "that I am beginning

to despise the very sight of her."

 

The Kolnari raised an eyebrow.

 

"One day," Channa informed him, "she became con-

vinced that Simeon-Amos was God and went around

the station trying to convert people to worshipping

him. She's been a very difficult experience for all of us,

but she's been a particular strain on Simeon-Amos."

 

"Simeon-Amos," Belazir said, "is rather obviously

 

380

 

Aime McCaffrey 6f 5M. Stating

 

the victim of a similar fixation on you, Channahap. A

strong reason to believe your tale."

 

"Yes, Master and God," Channa said. She dosed her

eyes. Simeon? she asked.

 

"He's halfway convinced, but still wyndering. Impatient.

Channa, it's starting. No more than twenty minutes until the

pirates'sound alarm."   _¥

 

She opened her eyes again. "Simeon-Amos," she

said. "Why don't you go see to the primary ware-

housing?"

 

He hesitated for a long second. "As you wish."

 

Now, Simeon commanded.

 

The worm raised its head from the ruins of the

castle, looking out across a plain of volcanic fumaroles

and blue-glowing lava. Flights of tongue-wasps

patrolled there and arcs of lightning jagged over crater

and canyon in patterned displays.

 

Thunder rumbled, A barking broke loose, louder

than the thunder, and the vault of heaven split. The

worm reared up, endless, longer than time, glutted

with its feeding.

 

Simeon burst through and new skies sprang above

the blasted landscape. The light changed from a pitiless

white to the softer yellow of sunshine. The wasps fell,

twitched, died. Three-headed and elephant-sized, the

dog paced beside him. He raised the bat, struck.

 

The Grinder lunged and the concentric mouths

damped on the end of the weapon. Then it recoiled, as

the wood turned to a hoop and expanded, thrusting

the rows of teeth back. It tried to shake loose, but the

dog's three heads pinned its body to the earth. Wider

and wider the glowing green circle swelled, until the

mouths were a doorway.

 

A scalpel and icepick appeared in Simeon's hands. He

walked into the worm's mouths and raised the tools.

 

"Heeeeeeere's Sim!1* he shouted. "Openuwfe."

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

381

 

On the auxiliary command deck of the SSS-900-C,

the Kolnari tech was reaching for the rear casing of the

batde computer when he noticed die telltales.

 

"Lord!" he cried. "TheÑ"

 

At that instant, the se^-destruct charge built into the

base of the computer detonated. It was not much in the

way of an explosion, but much more than was required

to destroy the sensitive inner workings. The designer

had intended that to foil tampering. However, the flat-

tened disk of jagged housing was more than enough to

decapitate the pirate.

 

His companion reacted with tiger precision, scoop-

ing up his weapon and leaping for the doors. They

clashed shut with a snap, and the warrior rebounded

into the control chamber. It was empty save for him

and there was no other exit. He pivoted, holding down

the trigger of his plasma rifle and firing from the hip

into the consoles.

 

"Naughty," a voice from the air said. The vents

began to hiss. Trie Kolnari staggered at the first touch

of the gas. His last act was to strip a grenade from his

belt and trigger it, carefully held next to his own head.

 

"Damn," Simeon muttered. The mess was considerable

and the equipment wasn't going to be much use for a

while. Then he took the equivalent of a deep breath and

concentrated. Several dozen things must be done at once.

 

"Let me up," Channa said, stroking Belazir's back.

 

"Not for a while yet," Belazir said lazily. "I have has-

tened as it is. There is another five minutes available."

His body was dry against her sweat-slick one, but much

warmer, with the higher metabolism of his breed.

 

"Are we staying, then?" she breathed against his ear.

 

"No," he replied. "You suspected?"

 

"That you'd take me with you, or that today would

be the day to go? Both." She wiggled.

have to get some stuff."

 

382

 

Arms McCaffny & SM. Stating

 

"I shall keep you well," Belazir said, then rolled away

off her. "Be swift."

 

He lay idly on the sofa, watching her disappear into

the bedroom. Memorable, he decided. Starling with her

skinning out of her clothes the moment they were

alone. Anticipation is the best garnish! The Kolnari con-

sulted his interior timesense:, twenty minutes,

unusually swift. Well within the day's schedule, too. He

grinned to himself, stretching and tossing back strands

of white-blond hair. Tomorrow stretched out before

him in a road of fire and blood and gold.

 

"We are close to Channa's quarters?" Joseph asked.

 

They were leopard-crawling down the ductway; an

action that was hard for one of his shoulder-breadth.

Behind them Patsy was having less of a problem, since

much of her volume was compressible.

 

"Yeah ..." Joat paused. "I haven't actually been this

way, y'know. I was trying to hide from Simeon." A

pause. "We're right over the main corridor to the

elevator shaft. I think."

 

"I think I had better check," Joseph said, with a tight

smile. "Are you all right, Joat-my-friend?"

 

"Yeah." She threw a smile back at him. "Just... I got

a little shook, is all. I'm fine."

 

She touched the junction node and her jacker. The

membrane beneath them turned transparent.

Chaundra did not look up. Instead, he glanced behind

him, shook his head, moved on.

 

Joat crawled past, then froze as two more figures

came beneath. Rachel was running, but Serig caught

her easily in one hand, pushed her against the corridor

wall. She screamed, breathy and catching in her throat,

like someone awakening from one nightmare into

another.

 

"Don't do it, Joe, he'll kill you!" Joat cried sotto voce,

lunging for the Bethelite's belt She missed and knew it

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

383

 

would have done no good. Her hand could never have

deflected the solid charging weight of the man. He was

through the space and dropping to the deck before she

could finish the sentence. His knives were in his hands:

one long and thin, the other short and curved.

 

The Kolnari had his nand back to cuff Rachel again

as she screamed a second time, hopelessly.

 

"Pirate," a voice behind them said.

 

The warrior threw her aside as easily as he might a

sack of wool, and she thudded into the corridor watt.

The same motion turned into a whirling slash with one

bladed palm, a blow that would have cracked solid

teakwood. Joseph was not in its path, but the long knife

in his right hand was. The yellow eyes slitted in pain

and a broad streak of blood arched out to spatter

against the cream of the sidewall and flow sluggishly

down. The Clan fighter leaped back half a dozen paces,

out of reach of the blades, but also farther from the dis-

carded equipment belt. He was naked and unarmed,

and the slash in his forearm was bone-deep. He dared

not even squeeze it shut with his other hand. The raw

salt-copper smell of blood was strong as the wound

began to ooze more sluggishly. Superfast clotting

would save him... if he did not exert himself,

 

"Come to me, pirate," Joseph said softly. "Come, see

how we fought in Keriss, on the docks."

 

The Kolnari snarled and leaped to one side, flipped in

midair and bounced off the upper wall. He was a

hundred-kilo blur of muscle and bone snapping at

Joseph behind a clenched fist Huddled against the wall,

Rachel gave a whimper of despair, but Joseph was not

there anymore. Anticipating such a tactic, he had thrown

himself down on his back. Both knives were up. The

pirate jackknifed in midair, but when he rolled erect,

there were two more long slashes across his chest

 

His grin was a snarl of pain as he slid forward. The

long wounds were orange, the Tunneling blood a

 

384

 

Anne McCaffny fc? 5M. Stirling

 

shocking deep umber against his raven-black skin. He

held his arms up: one in a knuckled fist, the other open

in a stiffened blade.

 

"Come," Joseph whispered. Rachel blinked back to

full consciousness and the sight of his face chilled her.

"Come to me, yes, come."

 

The knives glinted in either hand, splashed

orangey-red now, the edges glinting in the soft

glowlight as they moved in small, precise circles.

 

What followed was a whirling blur. It ended with one

knife flying loose and Joseph crumpling back, curled

around his side. The other knife still shone in defiance.

The Kolnari warrior staggered and shivered for a

moment, then drew back his foot for the final blow. Rachel

flung herself forward, grasping blindly. Her arms dosed

around the poised leg. It was like gripping a tree, no, a

piece of steel machinery that hammered her aside like

some giant piston-rod. But blood loss and the unexpected

weight threw the pirate off-balance. He staggered forward

into Joseph. For a moment they stood chest-to-chest, like

embracing brothers. Long-fingered black hands clamped

down on Joseph's shoulders, ready to tear the muscles of

his bull-neck free by main force.

 

Then she saw die Bethelite's left arm moving. The

right hung limp, but the left was pressed against the

Kolnari's side. There was something in it. A knife-hilt,

and the blade was buried up to the guard; the curved

blade of theszca, whose density-enhanced edge would

carve steel. It slid through ribs as the pirate's killing grip

turned to a frantic push that arched him like a bow.

 

The two men had fought in silence, save for the

panting rasp of their breath. Now the Kolnari

screamed, as much in frustration as in final agony. The

cry dissolved in a spray of blood as the diamond-hard

sica's edge sawed open his ribcage and ground to a halt

halfway through his breastbone. He flopped to the

ground, voided, and died. Joseph wrenched his knife

 

THE QTY WHO FOUGHT

 

585

 

free and stooped. He forced his right hand to action,

gripped the dead pirate's genitals, severed them with a

slash. Then he stuffed them into the gaping mouth of

the corpse and spat in the dead eyes, still open like

fading amber jewels.

 

Blood. Rachel wipeS at her mouth, suddenly con-

scious of the blooct: in her mouth, her hair, over her

body, spattered on corridor walls and ceiling, dimming

the glowstrips, more blood than she had ever imagined

could be. Joseph was coated with it, his eyes staring out

of a mask ofblood, his teeth red.

 

She stared at the mutilated corpse. "Serig," she said.

"His name was Serig."

 

"A dead dog's name dies on the dungheap," Joseph

said in a snarl. Then he turned to her and his eyes were

alive once more. He bowed, checked himself with a

sharp gasp, then completed the gesture. "My lady, are

you hurt?'1 he inquired solicitously.

 

His face, for once, was naked. Rachel gasped and

swayed, looking down at the body and then at the man

she had despised.

 

"Joseph!" she cried, clutching at his arm. "I..."

Reality whirled, splintered, as if a glass surface between

her and her thoughts had shattered. "Joseph," she said

more softly, wonderingly. "Something has happened to

me. I... I remember things that cannot be. I Ñ" she

blushed "Ñ I remember being so cruel to you, so

vicious. And, and I Ñ" she looked up at him, shaking

her head in denial even as she whispered in growing

horror "Ñ betrayed Amos to the Roman?"

 

He touched her cheek, a feather soft caress. "Lady,

you have been ill. You were poisoned by the coldsleep

drugs that we took. It is not your fault"

 

"Oh," she said, "oh," and threw herself into his arms,

weeping. "Please forgive me," she pleaded, "I am

unworthy, I am foul, but I beg you, Joseph, do not

despise me. Do not leave me."

 

386

 

Anne McCaffrey 6? SM. StMing

 

"I could never despise my lady," he said simply. He

extended a hand which she grasped, though the

fingers were slippery with death.

 

"Come, we have little time," he said. "We must get

you to a place of safety, and I have much work to do this

day." *

 

"Then let us hasten, Joseph," she replied.

 

Joat and Patsy dropped down, halting at the sight of

the body. They scanned the hall tensely, then edged

nearer. Joat looked at it out,of the corner of her eyes,

but the older woman stared hungrily.

 

The arc pistol rose, then fell helplessly.

 

"It's him," she whispered. "It's him. And it's been

done!" Her tone was aggrieved, indignant.

 

Joat moved up beside her. Boy, is he ever done, she

thought with her newfound squeamishness, and tried

to ignore the smell. This skudgesueker worked up an awful

lot of mad against himself. It was not that she regretted his

death, just...

 

"Sorry it wasn't you?" she said, looking up at her

companion.

 

For the first time since her rape, Patsy Sue Coburn

was weeping.

 

"No," she said, her voice thick. "No, I'm not sorry.

Not sorry he's dead, not sorry it wasn't me. Jist glad this

dawg will never hurt nobody agin. I... won't have to

remember doing it, now."

 

"Yeah, that's right," Joat said desolately, slamming the

doors of memory firmly shut "C'mon, we got work to do."

 

They turned to Joseph and Rachel. "Let's boost her

up," Joat continued. "Axial up one ought to be safe

enough to stash her. Then we can get on with it"

 

"Simeon?" Channa said softly. "You back?"

"Part of me." His voice sounded dim, although the

implant's volume was always the same. "I'm dancing

 

THE crry WHO FOUGHT

 

387

 

on a sawblade, keeping their communications down

and fighting off their ships' computers. Can't keep

them out of touch forever." More sharply. "You all

 

right?"

"You want to know^" she said, dressing with calm

 

haste.      <

 

"Yeah."

 

"It was annoying as hell... and sort of strenuous." A

moment's urchin grin. "And to tell the truth, I'd have

been forever curious if I hadn't What I'd like" she said

as she finished sealing her overall to the neck, "is to see

his face when he realizes I'm not coming back through

that door."

 

"I'll record it."

 

"And don't tell Amos."

 

A section of the ceiling paneling turned translucent

and slid back. Joat's face showed through and then her

body somersaulted down.

 

"There's a crawlspace we c'n get into now that leads

to a bunch of air-ducts and electric-conduits. Come on."

 

Channa examined the hatch in the ceiling and

smiled wryly. 'Just like in a holovid," she murmured.

 

Joat grinned. "Yeah, only a lot smaller." She looked

anxiously at Channa's lean length. "You may find it a

squeeze. Had to leave the others back a ways. Do you

nurdly when you're cramped?"

 

"Is there a choice?" Channa said.

 

"Then you don't. Push yourself along with your

hands and toes. Don't try to use your knees or you'll

eventually black out from the pain."

 

"Do you speak as one who knows?"

 

"Uh-huh, I've seen it happen. Give me a boost?"

 

Channa braced, cupped her hands, lifted Joat

towards the ceiling hatch.

 

"Ready." Joat's voice came down, sounding a little

hollow.

 

"Stand back." Channa crouched down and sprang

 

388

 

Anrte McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

 

upwards, catching the sides of the hole and pulling

herself straight up, arms trembling with the strain.

 

The crawlspace was narrow and cramped and con-

fining. She had to breathe and move in different

motions. It was wonderful     &

 

CHAplfalTWENTYTWO

 

"Okay," Florian Gusky croaked. "Go." He coughed,

his lungs and throat a mass of pain and fire. The air sys-

tem had_not been designed to be occupied for

two-week stays. "Go, you bastards."

 

Eight tugs and the mining scout In Your Dreams

brought up their systems. There had been ten tugs,

but Lowbau and Wong hadn't been answering on

tightbeam for four days. If something had gone wrong

with their life-support, neither of them had made a

sound while it happened, accepting death in the

silence of their powered-down ships, alone in the dark.

 

"Comin' home," Gus whispered.

 

The tugs had drifted with the other debris that clut-

tered the vicinity of the station. He gave silent thanks

for the fact that Simeon had never been a neat

housekeeper. More that Channa hadn't had time to

reform him before the trouble struck. Now the ener-

gies of their drives painted half of heaven. Acceleration

pushed him back into the padding, beyond what the

compensators could handle. The screen ahead of him

was a holo-driven schematic, with his target and

approach vector marked off as a box, and the tug a blip

that had to be kept inside it. Easy work for a military

craft, but these tugs were designed for hard slow pulls,

not whipping around. Nothing else mattered but the

vector, and the load of scrap and ore trailing behind

him. Through his body the drives hummed, pushed

past all prudence and all hope.

 

His mind found time to note the bright spark that was a

 

390

 

Arme McCaffny&SM Stirling

 

tuggoing up , a pulse from the engine detonation and then

the brighterflash of the destabilized powerplant

 

"Well, that ought to let 'em know we're here,** he

muttered. Whiskers rasped against the feeding nozzle

and the mike as his head movedfai the helmet. He

knew his face must look neither sane nor pleasant The

tug surged as he corrected. Tfee station filled a

sidescreen, and the bristling saucer shape of the Kol-

nari battle platform docked to its north polar tube, like

some monstrous tick swelling with blood.

 

"You're mme,"Gusshouted past cracked lips. '

 

Simeon stood in the passageway. Rock rumbled

around him, the bomb exploded away from a spot

above, chips stinging his eyes and going spang off his

armor. The long head that battered through was scaled

in sapphire and had eyes set all about it, in a bone rill

that turned to spikes. The muzzle split four ways, and

each segment was lined with fangs. The tongue

between was a metal-tipped spear ready to strike.

 

He struck first, grabbing it in an armored gaundet

and hauling back before the quadruple jaws could

slam shut When they did, it was on their own tongue.

A high whine of pain drove needles into Simeon's ears.

He kept his grip on the lashing end, whipped it three

times around the muzzle and tied a quick slip-knot.

Then he stood back and took a double-handed grip on

his glowing baseball bat. Thwak. The guardian pro-

gram shivered, slumped, dissolved into metallic

fragments that scurried back and forth disorganized,

then decayed instantly into floating bytes.

 

"Next," he said, walking forward toward the iron-

strapped door, which wasprobably the entrance to the

CPU. "Geeze, I've got to patent this AI interface," he

said, taking stance again. "It's Ñ

 

Boom. Oak splintered, wrought iron bent and

shrieked.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

391

 

"Ñ fordlin' Ñ "

Boom.

 

The commander of the High Clan batde platform

Skull Crusher pivoted on one heel. The big circular room

was half-empty; the liberty parties were only now

returning.

 

"What?" he barked at the info-systems watch-officer.

Not now. He was scheduled to undock and begin transit

first, to be there when the transports came in for ren-

dezvous with the rest of the High Clan. Just in case, but

the weight of the responsibility was heavy, and this was

his first independent command.

 

"Lord, our system is under attack!"

 

"The worm program?" Chindik t'Marid was a

specialist in those. He had designed the standard Clan

attack worm himself. He was also a game designer of

note, although that was merely a hobby.

 

"No," the tech said. His fingers were dancing over

his board. "Something's just smashing its way in."

 

"Aside." Chindik called up a graphic. He whisded

silently. Something with enormous computational

power was battering at the defenses with tremendous

force, trying all the solutions. There was no indication

of realspace location. His computers were spending all

their capacity just keeping the enemy out. But since

there was only one enemy installation in sight Ñ

 

"Cut the cable feeds to the station," he said. "Batde

alert to all other vessels.1*

 

"I can't cut the feeds," the tech said. "The retractors

won't answer. Neither do the landline comms to the

rest of the flotilla."

 

"Well, then Ñ " Chindik began. Another cry stopped

him.

 

"Detection," the sensor operator said. "Multiple

 

392

 

AnneMcCaffrey &f SJM. Stfrfmg-

 

detection. Powerplant signatures. Close, lord, dose.

Approaching."

 

"Attack vectors," the tactical computer announced.

"Vessel is under attack.*1

 

"Those aren't warships," Chindjk said in astonished

dismay as he read the screen. His head whipped back

and forth, reflex in a creature attacked from all sides.

Then he straightened, strode back to the commander's

station, and sank into the couch.

 

"Combat alert," he said. The chimes began to sound,

wild and sweet. "Battlestarions. Deploy short-range

energy weapons. Fire on any of those ... gnats as the

weapons bear. Gantry?"

 

"Lord?" The dockside guards were looking away

from the pickup. "Lord, we hear Ñ"

 

"Silence! Send parties through the sidelock and blow

the feeds connecting us to the scumvermin hulk."

 

"Lord?"

 

"Obey!"

 

The guards scattered like mercury struck with a

hammer.

 

"Blast-broadcast," Chindik said. "Five-minute sig-

nal, all crew rally to the Crusher. Then undock."

 

"Lord, I've been trying to activate the decoupling pro-

cedure." The bridge was filling as the standby crew ran in

and slid into their stations. "My telltales say it is working,

but the visual scanner shows no activity."

 

"Send a party from engineering to dog it manually.

Engines, prepare to maneuver."

 

"Lord, we're still physically linked."

 

"I know. We'll rip loose, and take the damage.

Estimate."

 

"Six minutes to readiness, lord."

 

The weapons team were working in a blur of trained

unison. "Enemy dosing. Velocities follow. Preparing to

engage ... Lord, we need maneuvering room! They

are too close for interceptor missiles."

 

THE Cm- WHO FOUGHT

 

393

 

"Make it three minutes, Engines." He turned back to

the communications console. "Get me the commanderr

 

"Down two decks, use the emergency shaft. Down

two decks, use the emergency shaft."

 

Simeon's voice rang through the corridor. All up and

down it, the doors of the residential apartments were

opening. Stationers came out, First singly, then in

groups, in scores. They ran past the working party at

the corridor junction, grabbed whatever shapes were

thrust into their hands: needlers, industrial torches,

bundles of blasting explosive with fuses cobbled

together out of calculators, handlights and spare

consumer-goods chips. Their faces were set and tight,

or grinning, or snarling wordlessly.

 

Simeon broke off another fragment of attention as

Amos came up.

 

"Channa?" the Bethelite asked. Then, as she moved

into sight from behind Joseph, he cried in relief. "Chan-

nar They had time for a single swift hug.

 

His eye widened slightly as he saw Joseph's body

splashed with drying blood from knees to neck.

 

"Mostly not my own, Brother," Joseph said grinning.

 

"You are hurt."

 

"Cracked rib. It is nothing."

 

Amos nodded briskly. "So for, they are surprised," he

said to Channa. "But that will not last." The fabric of

the station quivered beneath their feet.

 

Belazir t'Marid stepped back from the door. The

frame of the chair was bent in his hands, but only

gouges showed on the surface. He dropped the shat-

tered mass and looked around, his eyes narrowed.

 

fool, he thought, and suppressed anger. There

would be time for recriminations later. Perhaps... He

retrieved his equipment belt and extracted the univer-

sal microtool. There had to be a connecting line

 

394

 

AntuMcCaffny fef SM. Stating

 

somewhere around the entranceway. He cast a glance

over his shoulder at the titanium pillar that had been

beneath the tapestries.

 

"You will pay for this, my friend," he said. "For a very

longtime."  £.

 

"Eat shit and die, Master and God," Simeon replied.

God, that felt good. I've been waiting to say that. "You

screwed the pooch. You did the doo-doo, big. Ifou've

got a place in the next edition ofFrom the Jaws of Victory*

 

Belazir turned away with a smile and a shrug, going

to work on the exterior access panel.

 

"Can you feel pain?" he said as he began slicing it open

with the short-range cutting laser in the tool "I hope so.

Very much." He deployed die hair-thin probe.

 

And I was playing below my level on the war

games," Simeon added.

 

"Barricade at the next junction, lord."

 

The groundfighter's voice sounded in her head-

phones. Pol t'Veng filed it with the other voices filling

her helmet, squeezing at them with the force of her will

until they began to assume some pattern.

 

Takiz," she said to her second. He looked around from

the six power-armored figures at the junction. Just ahead

the corridor had been wrecked by a satchel-charge; the

tangle of walls, tubing and die remains of the floating gun

was still white-hoL Two of the suited Koinari forced their

way into the narrow place and began to straighten. Metal

screamed as it was deformed again. Hot gases pooled

around them and the remains of die gun-crew.

 

"Takiz, when we're through here, take four and

make another attempt at Lord Belazir's last location.

Maximum effort."

 

That translated as "Bring him or don't come back."

 

"I hear and obey, Lord Pol."

 

"Lord Pol, we have a cleared line to the main axial

corridor."

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

395

 

"Good," she said. Good news, the first since this

started. "Reports."

 

"Fightingon all the docking levels, Lord. Data follows."

 

It did; also pickup views. One for only a second; the

view from a powersqit as its wearer backed into the

open port of a Clan transport. Stationers were firing

from behind barricades of machinery and crates in the

open space beyond. The lights were out and the view

had the glassy look of light-enhancement. Softsuited

crewfolk ran past the groundfighter. His plasma rifle

snapped again and a makeshift breastwork exploded

along with the bodies of the scumvermin behind it-

Then all the telltales that ran below the visual flashed

red. Not good news for the occupant of that suit, since

the internal temperature was now over two hundred

degrees. The scene began to fog just as she could make

out a bundle of plastic bricks wired together arcing

toward the airlock. Then it cut out abruptly.

 

Bad. That was one vessel that would be undocking

with extreme difficulty. She projected a schematic on

the corridor wall and studied it as the information

flowed in. More bad news, but at least she had a pic-

ture.

 

"General transmission," she said. "Lord Pol t'Veng,

assuming command in the absence of Lord Belazir.

Crews, report to nearest vessel. Those near the

exterior, blow your way out of the pressure hull and

EVA to the nearest vessel."

 

Many of them would be suited, and emergency

dingmasks Ñ films that protected the face somewhat,

with a miniaturized recycler Ñ were standard issue.

For that matter, Koinari could endure about four

minutes of vacuum if trained and prepared.

 

"We retreat?" someone asked, shocked.

 

"No, fool!" she said. The speaker was an officer with

an intact company ranged behind him. It was worth

the time to answer as she might herself fall, in which

 

396

 

AnneMeCaffny&SJU. Stirling

 

case he would need the information. "Look!" She

downloaded her appraisal. "They fight to keep us

here. We fight for fighting room. We have completed our

mission."

 

"I hear and obey, lord."      &

 

"You had better," she muttered to herself Now that

the blockage had been cleared, more Kolnari were

gathering in the cross-corridors.

 

"We fight our way through to the axial corridor," she

said. "You, Dittrek. Is that barricade still holding?"

 

"Yes, lord. I do not have enough men to rush it again."

 

"Blow through the access walls to either side of your

position," she said. "Then blow through the connect-

ing partitions and flank them. Quickly."

 

"Lord."

 

She turned to the others. "To the docksÑfollow me!"

 

"Now!" Gus muttered to himself. The computer did

the actual release. The tug released its grapnel field

and applied lateral thrust, just enough to swing him

wide of the station itself.

 

He removed his hands from the controls and

slapped the main power switch; the safest thing to do,

now. There were a lot of high-velocity debris around

... including the wrecks of the other tugs. He felt a

curious peace, almost as if he could sleep.

 

"Lord, we boost," the engine comm of Heart Crusher

said. At the same moment, the weapons console gave a

cry of fury.

 

"Kinetic slugs inbound. Prepare for impact. Inner

defense batteries on auto."

 

"Full maneuver power. Boosting."

 

Chindik t'Marid prayed silently to the platform

joss, making reckless promises. The big vessel

lurched and rending sounds echoed through the

fabric of its hull as the jammed connectors tore out,

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

397

 

like roots parting in the earth. The most effective

weapons were on the underside, and that was still

pointed towards the SSS-900-C. There was nothing

he could do, anyone could do, except the AI systems

handling the close-in cjefense Ñ something beyond

even Kolnari reflexes.

 

Sprays of trajectory crossed on the screens. Absently

he noted the second to last attacking vessel taking a

beam. An irrelevancy now, after the huge scatter of

high-velocity projectiles had been loosed against bis

command. The slew of dots diminished, as the beams

swept, more and more with each second as the stubby

disk turned its teeth toward the sky.

 

Tinngggggg. Timtggggg. He waited, tense. No more

contact. The rest of the incoming flotsam had been

stopped, or missed, or struck the station instead.

 

"Damage control!"

 

A few lights were strobing from green to amber to

red. The engines screen came on.

 

"Lord... the exciter coils for the FTL were hit"

 

"How long?"

 

"A week, lord. It is a dockyard job." The Roman on

the bridge exchanged looks. They had just heard news

of their deaths.

 

"You," Chindik snapped to a backup crewman.

"Take that Ñ" he indicated the joss "Ñ and space it"

 

"We have Lord Pol, lord."

 

The doors hissed open. Belazir jumped back with a

yell as the plasma rifle leveled.

 

"Lord!" The man seemed ready to weep with relie£

Belazir ignored him, diving for the empty suit that fol-

lowed behind the warrior. For a wonder, it was his own,

 

"Where is Serig?" Belazir barked. He had expected

him to be here, or taking command. Matters should

not have got so far out of hand.

 

With the door open, the smells and sounds of combat

 

398

 

Amu McCaffrey & SM. Stirling

 

were obvious: deep toning sounds as explosions tore at the

fabric of the station, far offchuddering ofbeam weapons,

the stink of hot metal and ozone. Belazir folded the suit

around him, leaving the catheters for later. If I have to piss

down my leg, so be it. It came alive wi|b a jerk, and he flexed

the servo-powered limbs and gauntlets with exultation.

 

"Lord Serig is dead, Great Ijord. Lord Pol com-

mands. We have a link.**

 

The news staggered Belazir for a moment. Serig

dead? Then he damped the helmet. "Lord Pol?"

 

"Here! Report follows."-Mosdy disaster. "They came

at us out of the walls, must have been hiding there since

the occupation began."

Belazir nodded jerkily.

 

"We hold the ships," Pol said crisply. "Except for one

transport that has, incredibly, been overrun. They

attack the docks and encircle pockets of our troops."

 

"Continue consolidating the pockets and punch

through to the ships," he said. "Status?"

 

"Heart Crusher is free but her FTL is down," Pol said.

"My Shark is also disengaged and I am not bringing her

back. Half the transports are moving, but some with

heavy damage. Dreadful Bride has nearly full crew, plus

personnel from others, and is in control of her docking

area and ready to boost."

"Age of Darkness?"

 

"Still not even answering her comm," Pol said, her

voice taking on emotion for the first time. "My

youngest daughter against a used wiperag. Her

outer info was penetrated and they did not even,"

she spat the word, "notice."

 

"No wager," Belazir said. He reached back over his

shoulder and swung the punchgun rack down. It click-

ed into its rest along his right arm. The aiming bars lit

on his faceplate as he turned and cycled for sonic and

IR scan on the pillar that held the brain. Ahhh, yes. There

is the interior structure, and the access hatchway. "You may

 

THE crrv WHO FOUGHT

 

399

 

assume tactical command from the Age of Darkness,

Lord Pol, once you reach it. I will follow to the Bride.

There is a matter to attend to here."

 

"Through there," Amos said. He pointed to two

broken access door* across the circular open space.

Most of it had been covered with kiosks, stores, res-

taurants and other structures until an hour ago. Now

those were smoldering ruins, scattered among that

were the bodies and the wreckage of the servomechs

the stationers had used as their first wave. "They are

back from the entrance on the second to the right*1

 

"We'll go through subaxial E-9 and punch across,"

Keri Holen replied. "That's one of the hidden sections."

 

She turned to her squad, a mix of station repair

people with their working tools and ordinary civilians

armed with whatever.

 

"C'mon, scumvermin," she said. "Let's go show the

lords what we think of em. Follow me."

 

"How are we doing?" Channa said beside Amos,

bobbing up and loosing a burst with her needier.

Covering fire from all the stationers lashed out at the

exit shafts as the assault team dodged forward. The

barricade ahead of them was corytium, brought in by

the handler servos, and plasma rounds had splashed

off the front, or welded the ingots together and made

the barrier stronger. They still had to expose them-

selves to shoot, if only in a crevice between two ingots.

 

Amos ducked down with her as another series of

bolts hit the metal. They could feel the barricade shud-

der and tone. The inner layer was barely warm, but the

temperature above flash-heated enough to make their

skins tingle. The stink of hot corycium made them

cough, and Channa thought how worried she would

have been in ordinary times; the fumes were not

healthy. Then the whole station shuddered, and the

gravity fluxed sufficiently to be noticeable.

 

400

 

Awne McCaffrey & SM Stating

 

Nothing like a plasma bolt to give you a sense ofperspective,

she thought.

 

"Not doing too wefl, my darling," Amos said absently. A

team from the Perimeter Restaurant was crawling from

person to person with bags of sandwiches and juice.

More of the restaurant's people were back two junctions,

running a triage station under the direction of one of

Chaundra's meditechs. "TTiey are using the battle plat-

form and the warship for fire support from outside, and

we cannot stop them uniting their scattered groups. The

groups that survived, thatjs." He sighed and smiled at

her through the black smudges of powdered metal. "I

cannot think of finer company than yours to travel to

God with, Channa Hap," he said.

 

"I'm glad, too," she said. "Sorry it was this way, butgiad."

He reached out to touch her shoulder. Then her face

went glarid. For a moment he feared she had been hit,

before he recognized the expression. She was com-

muning with Simeon. Her throat worked. "Amos!" she

burst out "They're taking Simeon out of his column!"

 

The Bethelite paled. Without their all-seeing com-

mander and chief of general staff, the station was

doomed, and quickly. Channa turned and began to

leopard-crawl backward. He grabbed for her ankle.

"There is nothing you can do," he hissed

"I'm his brawn! I have to!" she cried, and kicked free.

Amos looked after her and cursed.

 

'Joseph!'1 he said. "We have to retake main axial, at

least for a moment Ñ along the path to the central

command. Take Ñ"

 

The final lead connecting Simeon to the station came

free. No\ Simeon cried into the darkness. The self-

destruct had been left too late. The Navy had not come,

and the enemy were breaking free. When they had

him on board, the station would die.

 

He had nothing now, nothing but the single pickup

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

401

 

and audio circuit that were part of his inner shell. Life

support was on the backups. It would keep his nutrient

feeds going for days ... but a single hand could switch

him into total darkness, utter isolation. Madness, death

without the mercy of oblivion. No!

 

Belazir was still visible, leaning over the shell. He

lifted off his helmet'with both hands, looming over

the pickup to smile whitely. The shell surged as

the powersuited warriors bent carefully and lifted,

the huge weight coming up slowly as their

armor whined in protest. There was a slight klinking

sound as the helmet rested on the upper face of the

shell itself.

 

"So that you should have my face for your last sight,"

the Kolnari chieftain said, reaching for the keypad on

the shell exterior. "When you see again, you will call

me Master and God . . . and you will mom it." He

touched a finger to the control. "Beg, Simeon."

 

"Eat shit and far

 

The Kolnari chuckled. "Not good enough," he said,

and pressed the stud.

 

The doors to Channa's room slapped open. Channa

stepped through, needier at the ready. Belazir could

feel the aimpoint on his forehead.

 

"You wanted me again, Belazir?" she said. "Better

late than never. Here I am." A slight movement wag-

gled the muzzle. "This is set on spray. It's quite fetal.

Now, away from the shell, please."

 

Belazir smiled at her. What a woman! he thought. /

will beat her, but not too badly. "There are three of us," he

said, shifting slightly. Although unfortunately I have my

helmet off and these two are immobilized by the load they carry,

he added to himself. "We are in armor. You can scarcely

expect to frighten us with that toy alone."

 

Patsy Sue Coburn followed her friend out of the

quarters, leveling her arc pistol. A red burn-mark

welted one cheek, bleeding knees and elbows showed

 

402

 

Anw McCaffrey &? S M. Stirling

 

through the holes worn in her coverall, but there was

real pleasure in her smile.

 

"Life's full a' surprises, ain't it?" she said as Belazir

snarled silently. "Real bitch sometimes, too."

 

Channa tossed her head in a vain attempt to get the

sweat-soaked hair out of her eyes.

 

"Yes," she said evenly, "I do expect to frighten you.

Now, replace the shell in the main column cradle and

reconnect it. Then, all of you, throw your helmets aside

and move over there." She gestured towards the door

to Amos' quarters. "I expect your pirates will trade a

good deal for you."

 

"And keep your hands up," snapped a voice from

above.

 

Kolnari heads turned to the opening in the ceiling. A

head and arms protruded, far too small for an adult of

their bigboned race, but the muzzle of the plasma rifle

was held steadily in those slight arms. The weapon

looked absurdly large for the person who controlled it,

but it was braced against the interior wall and the lip of

the hole, and he could see the aimpoint, a red dot that

wavered over the three pirates.

 

"Up," the child repeated, lifting the muzzle of the

weapon for emphasis.

 

Belazir's mind computed the angles. Good. My left

hand is not irisible, he thought

 

"You leave us little choice," he said aloud. Which was

true; honor aside, he had no choice at all. Pol t'Veng or

any other Kolnari noble would cheerfully let Father

Chalku or their own sires be flayed alive rather than

disgrace them by paying ransom, much less do so for

him. He would rather be flayed than live on those terms

himself

 

"Move the shell," he said to the two troopers. "It's

only three paces."

 

He raised his gauntleted hands, dosing his eyes and

flagging positions. The deck boomed like a drum as the

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

403

 

pirate groundfighters moved a pace in lockstep

unison, the ton weights of their suits added to triple

that of titanium and machinery ... and the few kilos of

a body that had never seen the light of day.

 

Three, he counted and dropped the flash grenade.

Before it hit the shell, hft was leaping backwards, and so

were the two other Clan warriors. He squeezed his eyes

tight and willed his pupils shut, but even so the flash

was dazzling. He hit the doorframe going out, went

flat, scrabbled the helmet he had snatched onto his

head. The plasma rifle had crashed simultaneous with

the grenade. A brief scream and the smell from inside

told him it had still been on target.

 

He blinked open his eyes as the locking ring of the

helmet clicked. The combat medsystem sprayed a mist

into his eyes, but his vision was severely degraded in

any case. He activated the sonic sensor, to cheep the

location of things at him.

 

"Takiz!" he called.

 

"Fully functional, lord," the warrior answered. "Kin-

tirisdead."

 

/ will beat her very severely, Belazir amended. Even

with the dazzles before his eyes, he could see several

arc-pistol shots snap out through the doorway, and

his machine-augmented hearing picked up the tell-

tale click of an arming plasma rifle. The walls were

reinforced here, as well. It would be tricky, and he

had not much time. Now he did not put it past these

extraordinary scumvermin to blow the station them-

selves.

 

The comm chimed and Baila's face filled one of the

chinscreens, a vague dark blur. Her voice was scratchy

with interference but audible. "Great Lord," she said

calmly. "Ships detected, incoming."

 

No! he shouted inwardly. No,1

 

"Lord," another voice spoke. The senior ground-

fighter officer. "We're holding a counterattack on the

 

404

 

Arme McCaffiny fcf SM. Stirling

 

main axial, but I cannot guarantee your withdrawal

Not for any period beyond now."

 

For perhaps ten seconds Belazir panted sharply.

 

"I will be there in five minutes, or not at all," he said.

"Out. Takiz, follow me. We head for the docks." Thank

the joss, he thought with savage irony, the northpolar

doting tube is so close to here.

 

fm blind, Channa thought. Her skin crinkled, wait-

ing for the clamp of powered gauntlets. Beside her

Patsy was shooting.

 

"Careful, Pats," Channa gasped. The blackness was

starred with red, now, and she felt needles of pain in

her forehead. Her free hand felt upward, touched her

eyes. Wetness... tears, only tears. The eyes felt normal

to her fingertips. For a long moment, she had feared it

was something like that horrible popper Joat had

made.

 

"I'm careful, all rant," Patsy said. "Got my shootin'

iron right on the doorway. They cain't move quiet in

those tin suits."

 

'Joat?"

 

"I'm all right," the girl's voice said. Her voice had a

saw-edged note that denied the words. "Hurts and I

can't see, though. I'm coming down."

 

"Don't get between me an1 the door!" Patsy said

sharply.

 

Channa dropped to her knees and shuffled forward,

hand outstretched. That touched something hot,

which brought a sharp gasp of pain; next a warm wet-

ness. She wiped her hand on the carpet and tried

again. The smooth titanium-matrix surface of the shell

was like a benediction. When she moved to the keypad,

a smaller hand touched hers. They gripped for a

moment, then pressed the key.

 

"NnoooooooooooooÑ" The scream was piercing, but

Simeon's backup speakers on his inner shell had limited

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

405

 

volume. He stuttered, babbled, then organized his voice.

 

"Thhh... ank you," he said. "Channa? Joat?" Patsy

came into the field of his vision. "What's happened?"

 

"He dropped something," Channa said. "There was

a white light and we can't see."

 

"Flash grenade," Silicon answered. "Don't worry! It

isn't permanent!" "

 

Channa gave a sobbing sigh of relief and heard it

echoed. "How long?"

 

"Well... how close were you?"

 

"Two meters to six, and looking right at it."

 

"Oh." A pause. "About a day, with medication, I'm

afraid," he said. At least for the person who was six meters

away. About the others I'm worried. Long-term reaction

was variable.

 

"Oh,great. They may come back in the doorÑ"

 

"No, they won't. I can hear their armor moving away

toward the docking tube. Lots of fighting. Look, it's the

answer to my prayers to have three beautiful women

hugging my shell, but could you get me reconnected?

Please? It's important."

 

"We can't lift you back, that's for sure," Joat said.

 

He frowned inwardly at the shakiness in her tone,

but he had no instant remedy for her.

 

"There's plenty of spare play in the cables," Channa

said. "How did they?" Her voice trailed off tactfully.

 

Simeon felt himself cringing again.

 

"No, it's all right." Sure it is. "They cut the cable

guards and then just pulled the jacks," he said. Cutting

away my strength, my sight, my feeling, cutting away me.

"Problem is ... they're color-coded. And the receptors

may be damaged."

 

"I'll get them sorted out," she said as she moved out

of his severely limited range of vision.

 

How do softshells stand only one pair of vision sensors? he

wondered. Even for a few minutes, his control had

been strained to the breaking point.

 

406

 

AnruMcCaffrvy & SJtf. Stirting

 

She returned with the cables, a double armful even

with ultra-high-data-density opticals. The jacks for the

leads were like a spray of fine hairs.

 

"Oh, oh," Simeon said.

 

"What do you mean, 'oh-oh,'" Channa replied.

 

"Everyone knows what 'oh-oh' means," Simeon said.

"It means, 'I screwed the pooch.' Your hands.. .*

 

"... are too big," she answered. "Damn."

 

"I can do it,** Joat said.

 

"You can't see, Joat"

 

"Neither can Channa. I'v&worked in the dark lots of

times. Had to. Got that toolbelt with the micros from

Engineering, too."

 

"They gave you one?" Simeon said, momentarily

startled.

 

"No."

 

"Don't tell me," he said. "All right Someone should

stand guard. I can hear if anyone's coining and give

you a bearing. Patsy?"

 

"Surely will," Patsy said. She felt her way to the

doorframe.

 

"You keep the slack on the cables, Channa."

 

"I've wanted to yank your cord for a long time

anyway, Simeon," she said with an attempt at a gafiow's

humor. Simeon felt his heart turn over as she smiled

down at him.

 

"Okay, feel your way up the face of the shell, Jack-of-

AU-Trades and master of some." Her small hands slid

upward over the smooth surface to the rounded top.

"Stop," he said to prevent her fingers from tangling the

hair fine wires protruding from the receptor

couplings.

 

"You be my hands, kid, 111 be your eyes, *kay?"

 

She took a deep breath. "Okay, what do I do?"

 

"Walk the fingers of your right hand two paces for-

ward, one pace to the left. Feel that wire?"

 

"Yeah."

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

407

 

"Follow it to the lead. Now, with your left hand..."

 

A minute later Simeon yelled again, this time a long

high screech that sounded something like Patsy as she

had at game-time rooting for the home team.

 

"Sorry, I'm sorry Simeon, I didn't mean to hurtcha,

honest!"

 

"You didn't." A bugle fanfare blew through the

lounge, and segued into a Sou/a march, then the

Ganymede Harp Variations.

 

"You've bolixed his oxygen feeds," Channa said

frantically, groping forwards.

 

"It's thecavabyl Ta-ta-tata-tara tat-teraaaa!"

 

"Simeon!"

 

"Has he gon' an* lost it?"

 

Aragiz t'Varak lolled, half-dreaming. A very pleasant

daydream. He was back on homeworld, a territorial lord

like the old recordings, and somehow Belazir t'Marid was

there. Aragiz had just defeated him the old way, spec-

tacular battles amid spouting radioactive geysers.

Blasting into the stronghold with primitive fission

weapons, hand-shaped plutonium triggered by black

powder. Belazir groveled, begging mercy for his line, but

they were led out and slaughtered before his eyes. Aragiz

was just getting into the interesting post-victory part

when the communications officer interrupted him.

 

"Detection ... Outer ring satellites. Ship signatures,

inbound."

 

The bridge of the Age of Darkness came alert.

Everyone had been waiting, nothing more to do until

they undocked next cycle and escorted the transports

back to rendezvous. He had brought everyone in,

ready for departure. NowÑ

 

"Another pullet for the plucking," Aragiz said lazily.

He felt tired. Perhaps from that scumvermin boy, what

was his name, Juke. A nice active squealer, not like that

unpleasant one who'd gone into fits after a single kiss,

 

408

 

back in the corridors. He'd kicked that one aside with a

shudder. Not for a moment did he think that he would

catch any disease, but it had been an unpleasant sight

 

"Action stations." The soft chimes rang, eerie and

ironic in their gentle harmony. "Give me a reading,

and relay to flotilla command and station-side."

 

The sensor officer consulted the machine. "Very

large mass, Great Lord. Seventy to eighty kilotons."

 

"Probably an ore carrier," the captain said. "Useful,

if not dramatic " The Clan could always use Ñ

 

"Link is down," Communications said.

 

"Again?" Aragiz barked. He couldn't decouple from

the station without clearance. That Bad Seed chugrut

Belazir had been fairly dear about that. Also, running

an intercept on an incoming freighter could be tricky.

And his head hurt, as if he'd been knocked uncon-

scious and recovered...

 

"Check climate control," he said. It was hoi. He was

sweating, and he rarely did, even in combat practice at

Kolnar-noon temperature.

 

"Yes, GreatÑwehavelostcommw^thfstation^sidevxitch.'*

 

"Wto?"Aragizsatboltupright. "When?"

 

"Some time ago. We have been getting repeats of the

last routine bailings."

 

TTiat made his stomach lurch, and suddenly he bent

over the arm and spewed.

 

"Fool!" he screamed. "Alarm Ñ" He choked on bile.

What is happening tome? He tried to rise, fell back,

thrashed, and slipped over the arm of the

commander's couch into the spilled vomit

 

Shouts of alarm rose from the crew. The groundlink

screens flickered. One cleared to show a Kolnari face

being pounded against the pickup.

 

The executive officer looked down at the jerking

form of the captain, and took command.

 

"Remaining crew, prepare for boarding action. Suit

up and Ñ"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

409

 

"Cancel that," a gravelly voice said.

 

The officer blinked, and almost shouted in gratitude.

Pol t'Veng trotted in, her combat armor scored and still

smoking in places, like that of the others behind her

Still, she was t'Veng Ñ

 

"Lord Captain," he began. There was a careful

protocol about subclan ship territories.

 

She cut him off. "Uprising. Couldn't make the Shark.

stationer electronics scrambled, hostile-controlled.

Emergency. Dump your system and call up the backup."

 

Pol glared at him, sparing the time until he sub-

mitted and saluted. Then she sank into the command

couch. Inwardly, she sighed. Every time the joss

seemed to throw the Clan a little luck, they were

knocked back to a handful of homeless fugitives again.

Every system on the ship dipped, then firmed, as the

duplicate backup computers came on-line. A glance at

the captain's readouts gave her the situation.

 

"Monitor the incoming," she said.

 

"Lord captain, it is a freighter. Should we not be

assisting in getting the station back in the fist?"

 

"Shut up. You assumed it was a freighter. Check that

reading again. Now!" Her voice was a bellow, its

natural volume increased by the suit's system to an ear

shattering volume.

 

"Reading... Anomalous readings, lord."

 

"Let me see." He keyed over to her the feeds, unfiltered

data. "Youngfool, that's notanomalousÑthat's Fleetl"

 

She paused a second to free a sidearm and pump a

pulse of energy into Aragiz's thrashing body. His

squealing was distracting.

 

"Emergency decouple," she said. Besides, she had

wanted to kill him for years. This one should have been

culled before he walked.

 

"We are loading fuel!"

 

"Move."

 

He did. His hand swept the controls, and the Age of

 

410

 

Arme McCaffrey 6? SM,. Stirling

 

Darkness shuddered as explosive charges blasted it

loose from the SSS-900-C's north docking tube. Fire

blossomed out of the dockway after them, along with

steam and pieces of cargo and humans. Kolnari as well

as scumvermin, she supposed. ^

 

"Broadcast, override, High Clan seek Refuge, High

Clan seek Refuge," she snapped. "Put it on loop, open

Clan frequency."

 

The officer's eyes flared wide. That was die command to

break, run and scatter, to approach the preset rendezvous

points only years later and with maximum caution. Those

points were in no file, no hedron, only in living brains and

only a few of those. The final desperation measure to

protect the Divine Seed, that it might grow again.

 

"Heart Crusher. Chindik t'Marid."

 

"Put it through."

 

"Lord Pol, you are receiving what I do?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Data coming in," the sensor chief said.

 

Pol t'Veng looked down again. The Fleet warships

were coming up out of subspace like tungior broaching

in the seas of Kolnar; huge masses, neutrino signatures

of enormous powerplants, ripping through into the

fabric of reality.

 

"Command frequency broadcast! Identifying follow-

ing," she said. "Fleet units emerging coordinates

follow, probables: destroyers, six Ñ correction, six

destroyers plus three light, one heavy cruiser and pos-

sible ... Confirmed, three assault carriers. All Clan

ships, report status. Lord t'Marid, report status."

 

"We coordinate?" Chindick asked.

 

"No. You have not the insystem boost. Use the sta-

tion for cover as long as you can. They will not

endanger it."

 

"Repeat?"

 

"Scumvermin psychology. Go. Lord t'Marid, status."

 

T Marid here," the familiar voice said, harsher than

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

411

 

she could remember. "Bride decoupling. We can cover."

 

"No, with respect Yours is the more valuable Seed."

Especially since this skip has t'Varak's sweepings as crew. "Bride,

Shark and Strangier should cover the transports."

 

A pause. "Agreed. Y\fciit for us with the Ancestors,

Pol t'Veng."      t

 

"Guard our Seed and Clan, Belazir I'Marid," she

replied.

 

Then her attention went back to the work at hand. A

Central Worlds Space Navy medium attack group bore

down on them, with a dozen times the firepower the

High Clan had available here and now, given the general

pathetic botchup. About equal to the whole current Clan

armada, give or take a dozen factors. Pol had fought the

Fleet before and had a healthy respect for their

capabilities. They were dangerous scumvermin.

 

"Helm," she went on. "Set course. Coordinates fol-

low." She had plugged the suit's leads into the couch.

"Maximum boost"

 

"Lord Captain," the executive officer said. "That is a

course/or the enemy fleet. What are we to do there?"

With one undercrewed frigate, went without saying.

 

"Do?" Pol t'Veng roared out a single bark of

laughter. "We die, fool!"

 

The commander's couch reclined, locking into

combat position. "We will attempt to break through

to the transports," she said. "The warships will

maneuver to protect them. We fight for maximum

delay. Any questions?"

 

"Command us, lord!"

 

"Prepare to engage."

 

"They are smashing us like eggs," Joseph said.

 

Amos nodded. Without Simeon, the stationers lost

their advantage of superior coordination. Against

professionals, he had been the only one they had had,

once the Kolnari recovered their balance.

 

412

 

Anne McCtffrey & SM. Stirling

 

"Simeon was a... a brave man," Amos said. And if he

were realty a man, a dangerous rival, he added to himself

"And very skillful. I honor his memory." Joseph nodded;

they clasped hand to forearm. "Farewell, my brother."

 

"Fardlin* touching, really," a voirffc said in his ear.

 

Amos leaped upright, then ducked again frantically

as a bolt spattered metal near his face.

 

"Simeon?" he gasped.

 

"No, the Ghost of Christmas Past," the brain replied.

"I'm back. So," he went on, glee bubbling through his

voice, "are some other people.*1

 

A holo formed behind the barricade: a figure in

green power armor of a chunkier, more compact

design than the Kolnari suits Amos was used to. In the

background was the bridge of a large vessel, battle-clad

figures moving about. A woman, with a man in like

equipment but different insignia beside her.

 

"Admiral Questar-Benn," the Woman said.

Remarkably, she appeared to be in late middle age but

undeniably healthy and close-knit. "Commodore

Tellin-Makie, of the batdecruiser Santayana."

 

"Oh, God is great, God is Merciful, God is One,"

Amos murmured through numb lips. "Bethel?"

 

"Don't worry. It's a big navy. We hit them as they

were getting ready to leave. Reports show not much

damage to the planet since you left, if you're Benisur

Ben Sierra Nueva."

 

"Keep firing!" Joseph barked to the others at the

barricade. "You can die just as dead winning as losing."

 

The commodore laughed shortly. "Profoundly

true," he said. "Simeon, Ms. Hap, all of you, you've

done a very good job. Heroic, in feet We didn't expect

to find anything but bodies and wreckage."

 

"It was a close-run thing," Simeon said feelingly. "A

damned dose-run thing." Both the officers seemed to

find that amusing.

 

"Here's my record of the whole thing, start to finish,"

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

413

 

said Channa and the Navy officers* eyes turned. Evi-

dently they had video of her. Amos hissed a low

complaint, and three more holos joined the image of

the Santayana's deck.

 

"We've still got a lot of t%e pirates in station," Channa

said. "Should we back off?" She swallowed. "Alotof our

people have been hurt"

 

"Negative," the admiral said, shaking her head.

"Give them time to think, and sure as death and fete,

one of them will find a way to blow the station. I've got a

Marine regimental combat team in the transports.

We'll forcedock as soon as I swat the Kolnari warships.

That battle platform could be tricky."

 

The commodore leaned out of the sight picture and

spoke to someone else. "Well, then, get the destroyers

toenglobe it, then!"

 

"It's not over until it's over," Questar-Benn said.

 

"Er... not the Questar-Benn?" Simeon asked, awed.

 

"Not if you mean Micaya," she said dryly. "I'm the

dull sister, the straight-leg." She glanced down at the

data flowing in from SSS-900-C. "Bastards. Murdering

sub-human mutant swine. Maybe now the inbred

penny-pinching High Families incompetent corrup-

tionists back at Central will get their thumbs out of

their backsides and let us do something about Kolnar

and all its little offshoots."

 

"Ma'am," Tellin-Makie said warningly.

 

"I'm not bucking for another star, Eddin," she said.

"I can afford to tell the truth without a bucket of syrup

on it" She looked up and out at the stationers. "Here's

what we want you to do," she went on crisply.

 

God, Amos thought. Thank you. For victory, and for

someone else to tell him what to do for a change.

Leadership could get very tiring. He suspected Fate

was going to send more of it his way. The prospect did

not seem as attractive as it once had.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

415

 

CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE

 

"I never understood what he meant before," Simeon

said, looking out at the huge docking chamber which

held only the dead, now in covered silent rows. "I

thought I did, but 1 didn't."

 

The medics and their patients were gone, to station

sickbays or to the trauma stations of the warships.

Equally silent were the motionless Marine sentries who

stood with weapons reversed by the Navy dead. The

squad at the docking airlock snapped to attention as

each shrouded body went by. The civilians looking

among the stationer dead were nearly as quiet, only a

few sobbing faindy.

 

"Understood what who meant?" Channa said,

blinking behind the dark glasses that hid her

bandages. She appeared detached, almost aloof, just

like the two Navy commanders who stood with her

and the little group of stationers.

 

"Wellington," Simeon said." 'Idan'tknowwhatitistolasea

battle; but certainty nothing can be more painful than to gam one

with the loss ofsomanyfriends.' He said that after Waterloo."

 

The admiral nodded. "I remember when I found

that out," she said very softly. "If you've got a grain of

sense, you never forget it."

 

"Ain't that the truth!" Patsy Sue Coburn said. Beside

her, Florian Gusky put his synth-splinted arm com-

panionably around her shoulders. She stiffened, then

forced herself to put up a hand and pat it gently. "You

don't forget anything. But you learn to live with it.

C'mon, Gus. I do believe you owe me a drink."

 

Channa turned her head toward their footsteps.

"Yes," she said, with a bitter smile. "We learn to live

with it. If this is heroism, why do I feel like such crap?"

 

"Because you're here," Questar-Benn said.

"Heroism is something somebody else does some-

where far away. In person, it's tragedy." Her voice

sharpened. "And it could be worse, much worse, and

would have been but for you. We did win. You are here.

And," she went on more lighdy, "you're heroes in the

media, at least Which means, by the way, you can write

your own rickets."

 

"Tickets?" Simeon asked.

 

"You always wanted a warship posting, didn't you?"

she said. "With this on your record..."

 

Simeon hesitated. Joat had been standing by

Channa's side, quiet and drawn. Now the old coldness

settled over her face, and she began to edge away.

 

Everyone's always left her, or cheated her, or hurt her, he

thought

 

"I'm not so sure," he said aloud, "that I want a

military career any more."

 

Admiral Questar-Benn nodded vigorously. "That

makes you more qualified. They shovel glory hounds

out of the Academy by the job-lot and we have to spend

years breaking them of such fatuous nonsense."

 

"Besides, I have a daughter," and his instant and

totally gratifying reward was the dawning of hope on

Joat's face. "Thanks, though. Maybe, someday." Some

dreams don't transfer well into reality, he told himself. He

could see Joat's chest lifting with the deeper breaths of

self-confidence and she didn't look about to disappear

on him.

 

"And have you soured on Senalgal?" the com-

modore said, turning to Channa.

 

"It's still a beautiful world," she said, shaking her head

slowly. "But it* s not my home." She reached down to Joat

beside her and, touching the girl's face with her fingertips,

 

416

 

Amu McQffiey & 5M. Stirling

 

felt the slightest of resistance to such fondling. Learning to

trust, and to be a human being, was not something that

came quickly or easily. But you had to begin somewhere or

you never arrived. "Besides, Joat's my daughter, too. And

I've friends here, the best there are£

 

Questar-Benn threw up her hands. "Simeon, you're

going to be around a very long time. The offer still

stands, I'll leave it on record."

 

"Hey, Pops," Joat said, her voice a little unsteady

despite the cocky tone. "I mean^ww, Simeon."

 

"Great Ghu! Canjunt, of all people, not think a more

suitable title than 'Pops' to call me?" Simeon demanded

in a semi-indignant tone, but he would have settled for

anything of a familial nature from Joat.

 

"Sure, but I don't think you'd like to know 'em!" She

smiled her urchin grin in his image. "Any rate, I'm

gonna be sixteen standard in a few years. Enlistment

age. And I don't want you blaming me for screwing up

your career plans. I... I'd sort of Uke to keep this from

happening to somebody else, you know?" She turned

to the admiral. "Think these brass-a... um, general-

type people might have a use for me?"

 

Questar-Benn shuddered. "I'm probably perpetrat-

ing horrors on some unsuspecting commander left to

deal with you in the future, young lady, but yes. I'd be

very surprised if we couldn't find a use for all of you."

She swept the present company with her piercing gaze.

 

"Then we may take you up on that offer," Simeon

said. Although he was too enervated to enjoy

thoughts of revenge, no amount of emotional

exhaustion could remove the need to do something

about the Kolnari: next week, maybe. "But right

now, I'd rather call in the gratitude as a favor, if you

don't mind, Admiral," Simeon said.

 

"Favor? For who?"

 

"A friend," he said. A holo grew, of a boy about

Joat's age.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

417

 

Joat started violently. **Seld! They wouldn't let me

see ya, said you were sick!"

 

The figure nodded. "You knew that. You know I've

been sick a long while, Joat," he said with the incredible

batience of the chronic in valid. "Only it went off the

screen. I can see this," ancfne looked down at his frail, fimp

body, strapped in an upright position on the bed, *1>ut I

can'tfeelanything or move it, ordoanything, really."

 

"Oh, damn!" Joat moved a hand through the holo as

if she could reverse the damage somehow.

 

"The navy medicos have got me hooked up to a

nervesplice monitor, to keep my heart going and stuff.

Simeon himself," and now he managed a proud grin,

"is hacking into it"

 

Joat blinked. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I

shouldn't've called you a wuss. I heaved my cookies

afterwards, too. I guess it's my fault, hey? Expecting

you to do more'n you could, should!"

 

"Nah," Seld on the holo said. "I was stupid, you

know. You could do all those things I couldn't, and I

was... hell, Joat, I was gonna end up like this anyway,

sooner'r later. Grudly, but I knew it. Dad knew it, but

he sort of didn't at the same time. I've had a lot of time

to think about it."

 

Joat nodded, then narrowed her eyes. "Those caps

were the final push, weren't they? Why'd you use one?"

 

"'Cause I was so scared of seeing you get killed, Joat.

You're my best friend. Besides," he went on, "that Kolnari

Lord'd just belted me real hard. Then... I tell you, the

ultimo grudly," and Seld rolled his eyes in disgust, "when

he teserfme.solwantedsomeofmyownback."

 

"Yeah," and Joat nodded in approval, "you would

at that!"

 

"That's when I had a fit. Would have happened

eventually, really it would, Jo. Dad says another ten

years, max."

 

Joat looked around at the Navy officers. "I don't

 

418

 

Aim* McQffivy fe? SM.. Stirling

 

think that's good enough. Can't you guys better the

odds for 'm? Doesn't he deserve more than ten years?"

Her hard voice cracked a little.

 

Questar-Benn winced and the commodore focused

his eyes on something else. ^

 

"I never get used to this," the commodore under his

breath. "What's the favor, Simeop?

 

Channa's head came up sharply. "Simeon? You've a

suggestion?"

 

"1 do," Simeon said in such a positive, you-should-have-

known-I-would tone of.voice that he commanded

everyone's attention. "I've been checking around and the

AtexHypatia-1033 told me about new tricks that Dr. Ken-

net Uhua-Sorg*s been working on. No oneÑyetÑis able

to regenerate the spinal nerve sheaths. Kenny Sorg

developed a prosthesis Ñ for himself, incidently, but it'll

suitSeld'sparticularrequirements,too. Kid, you're too old

to be a shellperson: you'd never psychologically adjust

Kenny Soig's condition is about the same as yours and he

gets around just fine," and Simeon projected a holo of a

man, moving down a corridor but too smoothly to be

"walking." He "walked" upright, true, but his body was

framed by an slender exo-skeleton which held him erect,

with his feet on a platform, similar but much thicker than

the station float disks. The base ingeniously held the

power supply and monitoring equipment. "I'm told, Seld,

that you'll have use of your arms and the base is sophisti-

cated enough to do as much for your body as my shell does

for me. Long as you don't try slipping dirough ventilation

ducts or falting headfirst out of services hatches, you

should last as long as most softshells, skeleton man!"

 

In this instance, Simeon's rewards were many: Joat

jumping up and down, gurgling with laughter while

tears streamed down her face, as well as Channa's, and

Seld crowed like he'd turned rooster. There were

expressions of intense relief on the faces of admiral and

the commodore.

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

419

 

"I do like to see alternative solutions," Questar-Benn

said, "and we'll put a naval courier B & B ship at the

disposal of Seld and his father for transfer to the

Central Worlds Medstation where Dr. Sorg is currendy

practicing. Is that the f$vor you wanted, Simeon?"

 

"The very one," fhe station replied.

 

"Frabjus, Skelly Seld," Joat was saying to Seld, "111 be

right down and we can celebrate together," and she

waved a jaunty farewell behind her as she left.

 

Exhausted as much by this unexpectedly felicitous

outcome as the weight of problems still to be resolved,

Channa sank back into her float chair.

 

"One more on the up side," she murmured to reas-

sure herself. "Simeon, I'm sort of tired. Could you... ?"

 

The others murmured apologies and moved aside

while Simeon guided her chair away.

 

"A moment then, Amos ben Sierra Nuevo," Questar-

Benn. Amos turned in surprise, shot one anxious look at

Channa's disappearing figure but had no choice but to

give the Admiral his attention." If you'd be good enough to

accompany the Commodore and me to our quarters..."

 

He was as glad as they appeared to be to leave the

sad ambience of the cargo bay, though only one more

of his shrinking band of Bethelites lay there.

 

The Admiral and Commodore noted his interest in

the interior of their flagship and explained as they

walked through the maze, absently accepting salutes or

nods as they passed details of men and women hurry-

ing about their tasks.

 

None of the Central Worlds' ships had taken much

damage though the battle with the desperate Kolnari

warships had been fierce, if brief. The guided tour was

enough to make Amos wonder anew how Guiyon had

managed to get the old Exodus anywhere, much less

reach SSS-900-C.

 

He was sighing in semi-despair for all the problems

he now faced in giving his poor plundered planet even

 

420

 

Anne McCaffrey &SM. Stating

 

a semblance of the efficiency and expertise Central

Worlds took for granted.

 

"Ah, yes, here we are, Benisur..." the commodore

said and Amos with suitable humility corrected him to

"a simple Amos, sir." "We've been Aceiving updates of

aflairs on Bethel and have need of your assistance."

 

Five men and women were seated about the lounge,

the two youngest Ñ a man and a women in their early

twenties, jumping to their feet at the entrance of

Admiral, Commodore and their guest

 

"Here he is, gentlefolk^'Questar-Benn, "Benisur

ben Sierra Nuevos, aka Simeon-Amos and the putative

leader of the Bethelites."

 

"No, no," Amos said, shaking head and hand to deny

that title. He didn't want that mantle laid on his

shoulders. Not now.

 

"As you will, young man," Questar-Benn said curtly,

"but you were the leader of the dissidents as well as the

defender of Bethel and we need your input." Then

while Amos continued to demur, she overrode him by

introducing the group. "Senior Counsellor Agrum of

SPRIM, Representative Fusto of MM, Observer

Nilsdotter, PAs Ferryman for SPRIM and Losh Lentel

for MM. Simeon, are you here?"

 

"I am," Simeonsaid, his voice issuing from the comuniL

 

He might have warned me, Amos thought sourly. BtU

perhaps swiftly done is best done. He gave them a dignified

greeting, hand to heart and mind. The young woman,

the Observer, was both startled and charmed.

 

Suddenly he was seated and stewards were passing

among the group with drinks and finger foods.

 

Perhaps, I'm merely light-headed with hunger, Amos

thought, feeling the better after a sip of a sustaining hot

drink and a sample from the plate of delicacies offered.

 

"Quite simply, ben Sierra Nuevo ... all right then,

Amos," the senior counsellor began with no more

to-do, "we need your help to reassure those elements

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

421

 

of your people who managed to hide away from the

Kolnari. They are terrified and not about to take the

word of any strangers even when we holo-ed every sur-

face with 'casts of the Navy taking Kolnari prisoners."

 

"And making themsinload all die loot they'd stored,"

said die beetlebrowed Representative Fusto. He looked as

if he had personally overseen that operation and enjoyed

it. He had a narrow face and close-set eyes in a narrow

head set on shoulders much too muscular in contrast

 

"Some of my people survived?" Amos tried not to

wince for this only reinforced the inevitability of his

return.

 

"Specific figures number the survivors as 15,000...."

 

The population Ñ the former population Ñ of this station,

he thought, unable to suppress a groan.

 

The Observer misinterpreted it with a smile of great

sadness and understanding. "Your people have been very

brave and suffered terribly. We of SPRIM and MM," and

she pointed to the other four, "are empowered to assist die

reconstruction of your world...."

 

Amos groaned again. So much to be done. And his

people would resent the intrusion of infidels, no matter

how well intentioned.

 

"We cannot, of course, interfere with the govern-

ment of any planet," Agrum said, clearing his throat

and giving the woman an admonishing glance, "but

humanitarian aid certainly fells in our jurisdiction and

we are able to provide whatever supplies and materials

are needed on an interim basis."

 

Beetle-brows Fusto gave his opposite number in

SPRIM a dark look. "MM requires you to survive on

your own efforts but we prevent exploitation of

minority groups for any reason whatever. We prefer to

establish contact with a senior government official,

preferably elected by the minority in question, but you

qualify Ñ according to Simeon Ñ as the logical and

most accessible representative."

 

422

 

Arme McCaffrey fcf SM. Stating

 

for this I thank you, Simeon, Amos said, hoping that no

one, especially the Observer, would hear him grind his

teeth.

 

"Your planet got pretty well razed to subsoil," the com-

modore said. "'S going to take hetpto restart," and he, in

turn, gave the MM official a quelling look, smiling at Amos

as if to say "they mean well but they're heavy-handed."

"We had to put up a transmitter," and he shrugged as if

such a facility was a mere notibing, "and die engineers put

up a temp at the space fieldÑwhich is littered with a lot of

hulls, some of which could'well be refitted for whatever

lunar mining would put you back on-line mere."

 

A transmitter and space facility? Re-usable hulls for

the craft the Kolnari had fused. Amos began to feel less

despondent, though half of him resisted.

 

"Humanitarian aid will be sufficient to see your

people through the on-coming winter," Agrum went

on, "using whatever shelters your culture prefers..."

 

"We cannot land alter-culturals on Bethel, of

course," Fusto half-interrupted, "but orbital staff is not

considered by Central Worlds Authority to com-

promise indigenous integrity..."

 

"If you wish, you may request additional colonials of

your own persuasion..." from Nilsdotter.

 

Amos turned from one speaker to the other, half dazed.

 

"Give the kid a break," Simeon said suddenly. "Why

don't you let him read the reports so he knows what

you're talking about, huh?"

 

"Of course," said SPRIM.

 

"Our intention, I assure you, Station Simeon," MM

said defensively.

 

"Then let it be so," Admiral Questar-Benn said, smil-

ing encouragingly at Amos as she handed him several

disk files and led him to another room where he could

digest the information in private.

 

"Not over until it's over," the Admiral remarked to

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

423

 

the commodore as they watched the sometimes con-

tentious delegation leave their quarters.

 

"And it's never over," Tellin-Makie replied, pouring

them both snifters of brandy in the flag quarters. "I

didn't have the heart to remind them that those aren't

the only bunch of Kolnari running around loose."

 

"And if you leave a pair, they breed up again," she

said wearily. "They know that. Which is the reason I

suspect we'll have Simeon and the others on die rolls in

a couple of years. The Kolnari will be a menace as long

as two of them are left alive."

 

"The Psych people swear they can be rehabilitated."

 

"Rehabilitated to E equals M and C squared," she

said, taking a sip. "Dam" cockroaches." Another sigh.

"Maybe this little atrocity will get us some resources."

 

"For a while, until the general public become inured

to these particular atrocities," Tellin-Makie said, "then

we can go back to peeing on bonfires. It's not as if they

were the only serious problem, either."

 

"Would that it were so. Would that it were so, my friend."

 

She looked at the screen, which showed an exterior

view of SSS-900-C. Repair servos and suited figures were

already working on some of the more urgent damage,

though it would be a generation before the devastation

was fully repaired. She made a mental note to have En-

gineering help out while the task force was on station here.

 

"All in all, though, I'm glad we don't have their

problems, poor heroic sods," she said.

 

"Amen."

 

"Yes, yes," Joseph said eagerly when Amos finished

telling him of the help promised by SPRIM and MM, up

to and including a Brain Planetary manager to replace

Guiyon. "Wemustreturnasquicklyaspossible."

 

"Yes, you and Rachel must"

 

"Rachel and I?" Joseph repeated, staring in sudden

alarm at Amos.

 

424

 

ArmeMcCajfiq& SJtf. Stirling

 

"Yes, because there is much to organize on the

ground before we may accept the beneficence..."

 

"But it is you, Amos ben Sierra Nuevo, who must

return!" Joseph's face was stricken. "Itisyour duty. Our

world is but a lake of mourning. They need^ow. They

need a heroÑand their Prophet"

 

Amos paced, hands behind his back, clenching and

unclenching, up and down the floor of his room in

Simeon's quarters.

 

"They need a hero, granted, Joseph," he said, stop-

ping in front of his friend, "but if I am a hero, then so

are you!"

 

"Me?" Joseph laughed. "I am your henchman. Your

right hand, and proud to be so. Your friend, and

prouder still of that But you are the prophet, the hero,

the one the people follow."

 

Amos took him by the shoulders. "You are my

brother, as truly as if the same mother bore us."

 

Joseph blinked as Amos drew him into the double

cheek-touch of close kin to emphasize his words. "And

it is you who will return while I deal with these infidels

and make certain that what charity they would foist on

us will not weaken our people but allow them to

become strong in such ways that no other scavenger

can ever catch us unawares." Who saves the saved from the

savior* he thought

 

"And I ... I wonder," Amos went on aloud. I

wonder if it is good, that the new leader is of the old

Prophet's line Ñ may God smile on him! Too many

generations have the people followed the old families."

He winced. "And followed them to ruin."

 

"You would lead us to greatness!" Joseph said forceful-

ly. The more so if you doubted yourself less, he added to

himself. "You have shown your strengths as a self-

thinker, a defender of his planet, a guileful strategist..."

 

"History does not show many battle-leaders who had

the same talent for being peace-leaders!"

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

425

 

"But you are of a peaceful nature until roused to

defend what you hold dear," Joseph said, "even as you

have seen your duty now to protect us against those who

wish to protect us!" Joseph turned sternly grim now. "It is

the blind face of Channa d*t hides your way."

 

Amos looked so fiercely at him that Joseph turned

his face away, his shoulders sagging in acknow-

ledgement.

 

"I also cannot abandon these here to whom we, for

our very lives, owe a debt of gratitude. If, in this one

instance, duty and honor are both served, let me serve

it." Amos sighed deeply, torn between love and duty.

"Are Simeon, Joat and Channa to be merely a chapter

of my life because fourteen generations ago the

Prophet fathered my many-times great granddather?

We saw on Bethel what comes of that"

 

"Yes, Amos, in all truth we did. And you are right to

wish to be indebted to all," and Joseph laid a subtle

emphasis on the word, "the stationers even though the

need for your special role is now over."

 

"Yes, that is over. In its place, I must assume several

roles and do each well in all honor." Then he gave the

younger man a sudden smile, the sort that had always

drawn the required response from any recipient "And I

give Rachel the chance to restore honor to her name."

 

Joseph gave him a sudden stare as fierce as the one

Amos had given him. "What do you mean?"

 

"She was, after all, trained as an infosystems

administrator. It is her duty to assist you in calling our

people from their hiding places, to organize the

reports that I must receive to know what is most

needed. With you two side by side Ñ that is what you

wish, is it not, Joseph? Rachel by your side?"

 

The younger man laughed and blushed, which

seemed to embarrass him more.

 

"You know it is what I wish but, Amos, do not blame

her for what she did."

 

426

 

ArmtMcCaffrty&SM. Stating

 

"I do not," Amos lied stoutly, "but she will need to

redeem herself in her own eyes!"

 

"Ah, yes," said Joseph with a sigh. "She is anxious to

do that. She talks to me about it," he went on in a softer

voice. "She talks of you but she aldb talks of you to me."

 

"Then go to her, Joseph my brother, my friend. If you

insist on making me wear the mantel of a leader, then I

have issued an order to you. But think also of what I have

told you, brother hero. You return to Bethel as my brother

and my equal, not my retainerÑnot even first among my

retainers. The time forthoae petty protocolsis past"

 

"I go," Joseph said. He turned on the threshold.

"And you, too, have earned a litde happiness, I think.

God willing, may you find it!"

 

Channa had insisted on returning to her brawn's

quarters, pointing out that there was nothing else

Chaundra or his staff could do for her in sickbay.

 

"I'll be much better off there," she told him, "because

I know my way around. Simeon can remind me where

I put things so I can find what I need. Only time will

make a difference now."

 

Once Simeon had angled the chair float beside her

satin-draped bed, she lay down, not seeing, not speak-

ing, absorbing the most recent events. Not that she

wasn't overwhelmingly relieved that Seld had been

granted a reprieve. But there were so many decisions

to be made, hanging in the air, over her head, where

she could feel them, even if she couldn't see them. She

could feel a trickle down her cheek and, with a gesture

she hoped masked the real reason, she blotted the

cheek on the gray satin cover.

 

"Penny for your thoughts?"

 

Because Simeon had picked exacdy the appropriate

light tone, she gave him a wan smile though she wondered

how he had noticed such a small thing as a tear

 

"I've none to sell," she said, "justbits and pieces float-

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

427

 

jug around. Like, Happy endings suck the galactic muffin.

It's enough to give you a headache."

"D'you have one?" Instant concern colored his voice.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head on the pillow.

"Look, Channa, youlwfl be all right," he said in the

firm tone one uses when one is hoping against hope

one's statement is correct.

 

She nodded once sharply, minding her temper and

her manners. "Yes, I'm sure I will." Her voice was tight

 

"I've scanned every report I could find on this kind

of temporary blindness, Channa," he went, infusing

his voice with confidence. I'd give anything to be able to

hold you in arms and comfort you but all I've got is voice con-

tact. Talk to me, Channa. "Worse scenario and you'll still

see Ñ through my sensors. Remember that, Channa.

And I see real good and wherever I need to!"

 

She had stiffened and cut through his opening

words in a rather shrill voice. "Simeon, spare me the...

Could you do that for me?"

 

"Sure," he said, both surprised and testy. "But surely

you knew that You've been using my senses for the last

two weeks!"

 

Her jaw dropped and then a tremulous smile

crossed her lips. "So I have, haven't I?" she said in a

broken voice. After a moment's silence, she added in a

contrite voice, "I owe you, and everyone else an apol-

ogy, for acting like a self-pitying wuss!"

 

"Well, after all, you've had quite an adjustment to

make."

 

"But I didn't have to snarl at you."

 

"Oh, that? I wouldn't know how to answer smartly if

you didn't Don't break that habit, Charma-mine."

 

Her smile was stronger. "Then I certainly won't"

 

"Because you like the challenge, don't you? And, by

and large, I'm good company."

 

"And so modest"

 

"So witty and intelligent," he reminded her.

 

428

 

Anne McCaffrey & SM. Slitting

 

THE CITY WHO FOUGHT

 

429

 

"And so handsome."

 

"Do you really think so?"

 

"Oh yes," she said, "I especially like your dueling

scar, that's a nice touch."

 

"Thank you," he said, gratified. ""Sfeu're the first per-

son who's ever mentioned it I've been waiting for years

for someone to ask about it. Sometimes people think

it's dirt on the projector lens."

 

She grinned. "It goes well with the baseball cap."

 

He paused a moment, unsure, "Um..."

 

"No, really," she assured ftim, "That projection's a

perfect portrait of your personality. It's not based on a

chromosomal extrapolation, is it?"

 

"Naw," he said, putting a grin in his voice. "It's me as

I want to be. I'd have hated it if an extrap of me came

out with a receding chin and a big nose, so 1 never tried

to find out. I'm Simeon, the self-created!"

 

"Wise," she agreed, "very wise."

 

The door opened and Amos stood on the threshold.

"Channa!" he cried out in a passionate voice.

 

She sat bolt upright on the bed, her lips parted in

surprise. "I thought you'd left."

 

He rushed to her side and drew her into his arms.

"How can I leave you like this?" he said, stroking her hair.

 

Simeon cursed under his breath. Leave it to Amos to

undo all his hard work. Just when fve got her cheered up and

back to something near hernffrnudÑforherÑframe of mmd.

 

Channa put up a hand, found Amos' face and leaned

forward to kiss him, smiling because she had caught

the corner of his mouth and was working her way into

a position that satisfied her.

 

When the long kiss ended, Amos said with a sigh,

"You want me!"

 

No, you ass! She wants a double malt and a ticket to "Death

in the Twenty-First." Would that I had hands, Oh Amos ben

Sierra Nueva, to clout you up alongside the head with.

 

Channa didn't answer but held her head as though

 

looking at Amos through her bandages. Amos smiled

at her, the smile of a man who believes he can

accomplish anything, a smile that proclaimed the

beai^r to be the recipient of a miracle.

" I came to ask you to come with me," he said, laughing.

"You did?" she said ina dreamy tone. They kissed

again, more deeply, Channa burrowed deeper into his

embrace, sighing like someone relieved of a pain they

did not know they suffered.

"I love you, Channa," he said.

"I love you, Simeon," she murmured.

Amos stiffened. Channa raised her blind face to his

and whispered huskily again. "I love you."

 

He released her and moved back. She hesitated and

turned her head from side to side. "Amos? What is it? Is

someone here?"

 

"Yes,"he said stiffly, "someone who comesbetween us,"

Puzzled, Channa reached out blindly with one hand,

the other resting on Amos's chest. "There's no one

here but us. What are you talking about?"

 

"Simeon," he said the name with a hiss. "For whom

you have just declared your love."

 

Her face altered abruptly fromjoy to chagrin. "I... I..."

shebegan in confusion.

 

"A gentleman of the Sierra Nueva does not intrude. I

am in the way," Amos said, flinging off her hands and

jumping to his feet. "I will leave you alone together."

And he was gone.

 

Channa swung her legs from the bed and lunged

after him. She moved with unexpected speed and

before Simeon could warn her, she crashed into the

wall, just beside the door. Weeping, she stepped to the

right point and the door opened for her.

 

"Amos! Wait!" she shouted and this time Simeon

opened the outside door but she paused on the

threshold to get her bearings and heard, all too dearly,

the elevator's dosing.

 

430

 

Arme McCaffrey &f SM. Staling

 

THE Crry WHO FOUGHT

 

431

 

"Amos! Don't go!" she cried, and heard it engage.

She stood leaning her head against the metal, sobbing

gently, tears soaking the adhesive synthetic of her

bandages.

 

Inside the descending lift, j4teios leaned his head

against the wall, Channa's desperate voice echoing in

his mind. Almost, but not quite louder than her

whisper Ñ "I love you, Simeon."

 

"Where do think you're going?" Simeon asked him.

He straightened and gritted his teeth. "To the

docks," he said crisply. "I>must return to Bethel!"

 

Simeon gave a dramatic sigh. "And who's to go

between Bethel and SPRIM and MM? Who saves the

saved from the savior?"

 

Amos was aghast at hearing his own thoughts come

back at him from Simeon.

 

"Someone has to handle them," Simeon continued.

"Rachel can. She's a trained infosystems spe..."

"Rachel!" Simeon roared in surprise. "She wouldn't

know how to handle them. They'd twist her up into lit-

tle knots. Not that she isn't twisted right now."

"They say they cannot interfere..."

"They say, they say," Simeon chanted back at him.

"Use your wits, Amos, and don't suggest Joseph. He's

the guy you need on the planet, coaxing your people

out of whatever lairs they've hidden in. No, you're the

only one who can be johnny-on-the-spot here!"

 

"What I do now is my business," Amos said in a snarl-

ing tone. "You have no right to interfere either ..."

Only then did Amos notice that the elevator had

stopped moving. He crossed his arms. "So, do you

mean to hold me prisoner here until Joseph, Rachel

and the others have left?"

 

"Emotionally you've been a prisoner since you got

here. Why do think I went to so much trouble to get

SPRIM and MM involved with Bethel?"

 

"You did. But the Admiral and the Commodore..."

 

"Listened to what I had to tell them, which is more

than you ever do. You've got to be here..."

 

Outrage, indignation, disgust and fury raced

unchecked across Amos' fece. "So? You admit it**

 

"Huh?"      *

 

"You admit that you only wish to make of me a sex

toy," Amos cried passionately, "a surrogate for yourself

with Channa!"

 

"I what?" Simeon's voice reverberated in the con-

fines of the small chamber. "You are bughouse!

Which is probably why it's such an interesting idea,"

he added in a reasonable, half-amused tone, "but

you said it, I didn't. However, it's not on my behalf

you've got to be here. It's Channa's. She really is in

love with you, Amos. Can't you get that through

your arrogant to-the-manor-born head?"

 

"Loves me? Loves me? Then why does she embrace

me and say, I love you, Simeon?"

 

"And, of course, she hasn't been calling you Simeon-

Amos for the past intense two weeks, has she?"

 

"BanchutT Amos smacked his forehead with the fiat

of his palm, his expression one of utter dismay.

 

"It sure wasn't me, or my holo, or even the shell of

me she was kissing just now! Cut her a litde slack. She's

been blinded, dammit! She's scared, she's exhausted,

she's under pressure. Don't cut the heart out of her for

a slip of the Up!"

 

"A slip?"

 

"A slip! You ego-centric rag-head selfish bastard!"

 

"But you love her, too!" Amos brandished his fist, glar-

ing about him to find a target for his frustration and wrath.

 

"Yes, I love her. Just as much as you do. No, probably a

lot more. And yes, she's in love with me a little, and I

treasure that But I can't touch her, Amos. I can't hold her

no matter how much I would like to. What are you wor-

rying about?**

 

"That she dreams of you and wonders what it would

 

432

 

AmuMcCaffrey &f SJM. Stating

 

THE Cnv WHO FOUGHT

 

43S

 

be like to be inyour arms." In the confines of the elevator

Amos heard the sound of his angry jealous words echo

back at him. "I think that she would Hke to close her eyes

and hear your voice whisper to her as I make love to her. I

will not be that fantasy for her, no$for you."

 

"Well, I'll tell you what / think. I think that you are a

dirty-minded, fat-headed, parochial, small-minded,

jealous hunk of pig fat. Just let me give you a taste of

what she's going through and you stalking off and leav-

ing her alone with it."

 

Simeon turned off the lights in the elevator. Amos

was plunged into pitch blackness; just long enough to

reach the stage of imagining lights and colors to con-

sole himself. The human eye is not meant for complete

darkness. Even on an overcast night with eyes dosed

there is some ambient light

 

The darkness and motion were disorienting.

 

And frightening, the Bethelite admitted to himself.

 

"Stop it" Amos said calmly, but firmly. Simeon didn't

answer. "Stop it, I said," a trace of unease creeping into

his voice. An accident, who would doubt his word?

 

Simeon brought the elevator to a halt

 

"It's unpleasant, isn't it?" Simeon asked quietly.

 

"Yes," Amos said shordy, sullenly. "Please, would you

turn on the lights?"

 

"Channa can't," Simeon observed. "It's possible they

won't come back on and she'll have to get a prostheses,

one of those devices they set into your face. Yup, things

could look like this to her forever."

 

"What do you want me to do?" Amos demanded. "I

would give her my sight if 1 could."

 

"That's a safe offer," Simeon observed contempt-

uously, "she wouldn't accept such a sacrifice even if it

was needed."

 

"Then what would you have me do?" Amos was

nearly shouting now, flapping his arms hard against

his sides.

 

"Something a lot easier. Hold her. Just put your arms

around her and hold her close. You softshells need

that. I never had it so I don't miss it"

 

Amos shifted position, silent

 

"{ would hock my shel^if I could physically comfort

her B ut I can't. I can make sure she gets what she needs

from the one person she'll accept it from. And let me

tell you something, lordling, even to comfort Channa, I

wouldn't want to stay a softshell. You're cripples next to usl

You realize that? We have senses, abilities, that you

can't even begin to imagine. But yes, in this one area, I

am jealous of you. Despite that, I arranged... yes, noble

being that / am... arranged for you to have to stay on

this station to handle all the detaik the Bethelite leader

will have. So that you could also comfort the woman we

both love. There I've said it aloud!

 

"I've done all I can, Amos," and now Simeon's voice was

tinged with a helpless note. "I've been with her since she

was brought to the hospital I haven't left her. When she

wakes up, I wish her good morning and mine is the last

voice she hears at night I'm die one who guides her safely

across a room. I'm the one who tells her that what she's

looking for is a litde to the right I'm the one who makes

sure she gets her meals. I've put up with her bouts of

temper and self-pity and I've talked her through her mo-

ments of panic I'm with her constandy. But you walk into

the room Ñ at long last I might add Ñ and it's like I've

never existed. Did you see her? She lit up like a star going

nova. Andyou have the gall to walk out on her!"

 

Simeon turned the lights back on and Amos

squinted briefly as his vision adjusted.

 

The door opened and Channa raised her head, half-

disbelieving she heard the sound of his step, the

eagerness with which he approached her.

 

"Oh, Amos!" She reached out her arms tentatively

toward him.

 

434

 

AimeMcCaffrzy fc? SJVf. Staling

 

"Ah, Channa," and Amos took her hands and pulled

her into the circle of his arms. This only I may do, he

thought possessively, proudly and yet, because of that

brief darkness, sadly, too, because Simeon would never

 

have this.  *

 

¥

I'm sorry. Forgive me," he whispered, stroking

 

her hair.

 

Channa sobbed once and tried to apologize, the words

stumbling over his, but he stopped her with a kiss.

 

Simeon watched them enter the lounge, but decided

not to follow them. This is going to be tough enough, he

thought, / think I'U work up to it gradually. But wasn't it a

great game I played ?

 

"Before... 1 came to tell you that I must stay longer

on the station than we had thought," Amos said.

"When I must return to Bethel..."

 

"Stay?" and the gladness in her face and voice reas-

sured Arnos as no argument from Simeon ever would,

how much Channa did indeed love him.

 

"Stay ... for now," he said, trailing caressing fingers

around her lovely face. This, too, I may do that he caTtnot.

 

"For now?" Then a return of her deep and genuine

fear caught at his heart.

 

"I must return to Bethel," he said slowly. "I have

obligations there."

 

"I have them here. I can't leave Simeon or Joat,"

Channa said piteously.

 

And Amos knew that she also meant these quarters

which she knew even in her blindness, and this station

which was surely now as much her heart's home as

Bethel was his.

 

"Neither can I leave my people, my planet Nor do I ask

such sacrifice of you," he said, using die force of his per-

sonality to reassure her. He smiled down at her, thumbs

caressing the velvety skin of her temples. She searched his

face with her fingertips and smiled in response.

 

THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT

 

435

 

"But several times in every year, I must return to this

station on the business of my people and my world," he

went on. "That, I may in all conscience do." A wry

shrug. "If my people cannot do without their prophet

now and then, then I will not have taught them well.

Perhaps the day will c&ne when they need no man to

stand between them and God, and I will be free to raise

my horses and roses in peace."

 

Her face lit. "And I could visit sometimes, couldn't

I?" she murmured.

 

"With Joat," Amos said, and then in a far more per-

suasive and loving tone, "although it is not well for a

child to be alone, without brothers and sisters..."

 

"Yes," she laughed as she sensed the change in his

stance, falling formally to one knee but before he

would speak. She held him upright with her hands.

 

"In a matter such as this, I should ask permission of

your father," Amos said, rising and drawing her close.

"But Simeon will do."

 

She fisted him lightly under the short ribs. "I'll speak

to Simeon on my own behalf."

 

"We will then both address Simeon the Father. But,"

Amos said in her ear, after a time. "There is one condi-

tion."

 

"What?"

 

"You must never call me Simeon again." She drew her

head back and nodded solemnly. He touched her chin

gently. "You may, however," he went on, wishing for once

that Simeon was listening, "call me Persephone."

 

EPILOGUE

 

The chills were less now, and the survivors recovering,

although a quarter of the crew had died of the fever and more

gone mad.

 

Belazir t'Marid clenched his rattling teeth against a

paroxysm as he fay in the darkened bridge, while the Dreadful

Bride fled outward all alone.

 

"Someday," he whispered.

 

THEEND

/span>

Stallion, you mean, Simeon remarked very privately.