Kip moved closer to the cave mouth and took out his binoculars. "You're right," he said. "I can just barely see the centaur grove on the other side of the lake."
"See any helicopters?"
"No—yes, I think so, over where the station ought to be, that might be one landing. Gone now."
"There's got to be another cave entrance," Marty said. "The bushes are too thick here, the centaurs can't be coming in and out through there. There's just barely an opening through the thorn-bush. Not really a trail."
"It may be the only entrance, though," Lara said. "We don't know how long those tracks have been in there. They could sure have been there long enough for the bushes to grow up. They grow fast, don't they, Kip?"
"I think so." But I don't remember. Kip was beginning to realize just how dependent on Gwen he had been. It's time I think for myself.
It was difficult to think without sharing the thoughts with Gwen, but he had learned to do that. Or she'd said he had, and he didn't think Gwen ever lied to him. Refused to answer questions, but never flat out lied. But he couldn't help wondering if he could be transmitting signals without knowing it, just by thinking. That was a little frightening.
The four centaurs had left the cave mouth, and stood out in the open. They gestured again.
"They want us to come out," Marty said. "Yeah. Out where the helicopters can see us. If you saw one over by the station, they'll be able to see us when they take off."
"The centaurs don't know that," Lara said. "You sure don't think they're cooperating with the security people. Do you?"
"No, of course not," Kip said. "I don't know what to think. But I'm worried about those choppers we heard last night."
"Nothing out there now," Marty said. He took out his binoculars and looked carefully in all directions.
"They could be right over the hill behind us and you'd never know," Kip said. "Marty, I don't know about this."
"Me either," Marty said. "I think it's too late. The centaurs are leaving. I think they got tired of waiting."
"Yeah. Just as well," Kip said. "At least there's light. I'll put the flashlights in the sun patch there."
"Now what do we do?" Lara asked.
"I don't know. Charge up the flashlights and wait, I guess," Kip said. "And have some tea. Marty, you want to get a stove going?"
"At least if we run out there's more water," Marty said. "All right, I'll make tea."
The water was just boiling when one of the centaurs returned. He was carrying something shiny.
"That's Blaze," Marty said. "Looks like that burn is healing."
The centaur came steadily toward them.
"Down. Back," Kip ordered the dogs. Blaze had never threatened them even when he had the bronze spear, and this time, whatever the centaur was carrying, it didn't look like a weapon.
Blaze crept forward in terror. The furrykillers were growling and showing their teeth, but one of the Things spoke and the furrykillers moved back.
The Things were in the mouth of the cave, well back as if they were afraid of the sunlight. Blaze had often seen the Things in bright sunlight, but perhaps it was a seasonal fear. There were other animals who were sometimes afraid to be outside, sometimes not. Blaze had never thought about that before, as there were many things he was now curious about that he had never noticed before. He accepted this, and if anyone had asked him—if anyone could ask him about it—he would have said it was one more of the mysterious doings of the Master. The Master could make him content with what he knew, and the Master could fill his head with questions. No one knew why or ever would.
Now the Master had ordered him to deliver a message to these Things. He had no idea of what the message was, or how the Things would react. The message he had delivered to the small Thing grove had caused a great noise and flashes of fire, and the Things had run out of their small grove to shoot weapons in all directions. They hadn't seen him, and nothing had happened to him, but he'd been afraid as he ran for his life. But this time the Master wanted it known who was delivering the message.
What would these Things do? They had their weapons, like the one that had sent the streak of fire across his withers, and there were five of the furrykillers, more than he could fight, and if one of them injured him he wouldn't be able to run away. He cringed at the thought of furrykillers tearing at his legs and leaping for this throat. But he was Blaze, a leader of the Highlanders. The Master had given orders, and they would be obeyed. He crept forward.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bronze Plates
KIP watched the centaur creep forward. "What is that he's carrying?" Kip asked aloud. "Looks like a book with a shiny cover," Marty said. "It's the size of a book," Lara said. "I think we'll know in a minute, because it looks like he's going to leave it for us."
"Another gift," Marty said. He looked at his new watch. "This works just fine. Wonder what we'll get this time?"
Lara was right. The centaur came toward them. The dogs growled warning and the centaur hesitated. "Hush," Kip commanded. Silver lay down with his head on his paws, his eyes never off the donkey-sized centaur. Diamond Lil sat, but she was poised to leap. Blaze came toward them, his eyes half-closed, nostrils flaring slightly. He was about twenty feet from the cave mouth when he knelt down and set the bundle he was carrying down on the ground. He watched them for a moment, then got up and trotted away.
"I'll go get it," Marty said.
"Wait—"
"What for?"
"Well, all right," Kip said. He watched apprehensively as Marty ran out to retrieve the packet, but nothing happened. "What is it?" Kip demanded.
"Bronze plates," Marty said. "With stuff etched on them. Some kind of picture, but I can't make it out."
"Let's see." Kip examined the top plate. It showed two people doing something. They seemed familiar—
Lara was looking over Kip's shoulder. Suddenly she said, "Kip, I know what it is! It's all weird, the perspectives are all wrong, but it's a picture of you feeding the Starswarm! See, that's you, throwing a leaf, and this is me watching you, and—"
Once she said it, Kip could see that it was true. "It is weird. And it's looking ashore from the lake," Kip said. "But who was watching us? Was there a centaur hiding in the lake?"
"No," Lara said. "I just don't believe that."
"Then who?"
"I don't know." Lara stared at the plate, moved her head from side to side, and stared again. "Kip, I know what's wrong with the picture. It's like what you'd see if your eyes were too far apart, that's what's messed up the perspective."
"Centaur heads are wider than ours," Marty said.
"Not that much wider," Lara said.
"Maybe the other plates will tell us something," Marty said. "But I don't know. This one looks like some kind of engineering drawing, and this one—I'd swear it was a chemistry formula, only none of the symbols make any sense. But that sure looks like the diagram of a molecule in our science book."
Kip nodded. It didn't look exactly like any of the diagrams from their textbooks, but he could recognize what had to be carbon rings, and that frequently repeated pair would be an oxygen-hydrogen radical. Gwen would know, he thought. But was this important enough to call her about?
Another plate showed what appeared to be two hemispheres held apart. They were surrounded by other objects, some of which bore symbols similar to the ones on the chemistry diagram. That plate had a very thin strip of gray metal, about half an inch wide and an inch long, glued to it. The next plate showed what appeared to be human city buildings, but they had been tossed into the air and were falling.
It was too much for Kip. He thought about it for a moment, then decided. "Gwen."
"HERE, I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. KEEP TRANSMISSIONS TO MINIMUM."
He felt a warm glow of relief. He had not realized just how much he missed Gwen. "I'll try. The centaurs brought us two more watches while we were in the cave. Identical to the ones we already have. Then they motioned us to follow and led u
s to this cave entrance. Now Blaze just brought us these. The top one is me feeding the Starswarm. We haven't figured out what the others are supposed to represent. I don't understand any of this." Kip stared at the bronze plates in the way Gwen had taught him, taking each in turn. Lara looked at him, puzzled, but when she tried to say something, Kip brushed her away. He looked at each plate for several seconds. "That's all of them."
"YOU DID WELL TO CALL ME. I NOW HAVE A HYPOTHESIS TO EXAMINE. I WILL CALL YOU WHEN I KNOW WHAT TO DO."
"You know what they mean?"
"I HAVE A HYPOTHESIS. WE ARE NOW BOTH IN GREAT DANGER. AVOID THE GWE POLICE, AND AVOID TRANSMISSIONS. I WILL CALL WHEN I HAVE SUGGESTIONS."
They had set up the GWE Security headquarters in the former schoolroom. All the student computers had been impounded, and GWE technicians searched them for files about explosives. Three of the student machines had been disassembled. A dozen workbenches with GWE Security equipment now stood against one wall of the classroom, and there were desks for the GWE officials in the middle of the room.
Lieutenant John Fuller had a sour expression as he spoke into the phone. "No, sir, I don't know where the kids went. They ran off into the bush just before we got here. Yes, sir, the gate monitor records the time they left. About half an hour after the explosion. . . . Yes, sir, they had time to set off the bomb and get back into the compound, but just barely. They would have had to scramble. No, sir, there was no timer on the bomb. It was a simple impact detonator with a safety lock. Dangerous thing to carry around. Yes, sir, we're looking for them. I've got chopper teams out. I can't look for them with dogs, because nobody at the station will loan us a dog. They've got all kinds of excuses, but the truth is they're all pulling for the kids."
Gilbert Kettering turned from his monitor screen and chuckled. "I could tell you stories about those goddam dogs—"
Fuller listened to the phone and half snarled, half grinned. "Well, yes, sir, technically Dr. Henderson is cooperating, or at least not resisting. Claims to be all worried about his daughter out in the bush, doesn't believe the kids were involved in the explosions. But I can't get access to the station computer, at least not most of the files. Technical difficulties, he says. I'm sure there's a lot he's not telling us. Henderson says he doesn't have to take orders from anyone but Mr. Trent, and until he talks to Bernard Trent he considers this an illegal occupation of his station. He keeps trying to call Mr. Trent to lodge a complaint, but he can't get through. His tune will change when we catch those kids. All right, sir. I'll keep you informed. Fuller out."
John Fuller set down the phone and turned toward Gilbert Kettering. "You've known Henderson longer than me, what do you reckon his game is?"
Kettering continued to watch the squiggles on his screen. "Not sure. He's hiding something. But he really doesn't believe the kids were involved in your problems. I'm sure he's sincere about that."
"But you think he knows who it was?"
"No, but I think he believes the kids know—Ha!" Gilbert Kettering watched new squiggles form on his monitor scope and shouted in triumph. "Gotcha! There it is!"
Lieutenant Fuller frowned. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Kettering grinned. "High speed data transmissions using the satellite links. And not from inside the compound here."
"Could it be one of our search units?" Fuller asked.
"Not hardly," Kettering said. "I've seen that pattern before, and it's nothing we use. When I first got here, I set up to monitor all message traffic in and out of this station. I could account for most of it, but not all, there was always a residual with a curious pattern. Mostly it was short low density squirts back and forth, like it was voice conversation between people, but every now and then we'd get some really high density stuff, like it was pictures sent from one computer to another."
"So what was it?" Fuller asked.
"I don't know. I always figured it was those kids doing some kind of unauthorized communications, but until you took over the station I couldn't set up enough equipment to find out. I was supposed to be a teacher. Actually I was a pretty good teacher, if I do say so. Some of those kids are pretty bright. Anyway, after you guys took over the station I didn't figure the cover was worth much anymore, so I set up more monitoring stuff, and here's more of those signals I used to get from inside the compound only now they're from out in the bush. They're talking to someone, and someone is using the satellite link to talk to them. We just recorded a signal from the satellite link, now I'll look at the network records and see where it came from."
"Those kids are up to more than just unauthorized communications," Fuller said. "I don't know how those little bastards blew up our compound, but I'm damn sure it was them."
"Yeah, probably. They're smart enough, especially those three," Kettering said. He stared at his computer screen. "Ho ho. You know, John, this could be more important than I thought."
"How's that?"
Kettering frowned in puzzlement. "I'm damned if I see how, but it looks to me like some of this stuff comes right out of the central GWE computer. Like there's an unauthorized tap into it."
Fuller whistled. "That'll do it. I'm calling Mr. Tarleton. One thing. I don't see any point in letting Doc Henderson know we know this."
Kettering nodded. "Neither do I."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Important Assignment
THE television blurred, then the image on the screen was replaced with Marian the Librarian. The phone didn't ring, but Mike Gallegher picked it up anyway. "Yeah?"
"You are not alone."
"No—"
"Mike, what is that?" Jeanine demanded. "You're the one who wanted to watch the TRI-V, just what's going on?"
"Honey, you don't want to know," Mike said. "You are speaking to Jeanine Osmund."
"Yeah, that's right."
"I believe she may be a danger to us," Michelle LaScala Trent's voice said. The television image blurred again and reverted to the adventure show Jeanine and Mike had been watching. Jeanine looked up at Mike, got no response, and went back to watching the television.
"How's that?" Mike asked.
"Records show that Jeanine Osmund filed complaints against one James Martin Omani," Gwen said. "Omani is an undercover GWE Security agent. This is why no action was taken on her complaints although the Pearly Gates police strongly suspect that Omani murdered Jason Osmund and disposed of his body by throwing it into the sea. Omani has made several requests for cooperation in locating Jeanine Osmund, but the police have been reluctant to help him. Apparently there is no high regard for the GWE Security people among the officers of the Pearly Gates Police Department."
"That's no surprise," Mike said.
"It was to me," Gwen said.
"Who are you talking to?" Jeanine demanded.
"In a minute, honey It's important," Mike said. "Is this Omani about to come here or something?"
"What's that about Jimmy Omani?" Jeanine demanded.
"Tell you in a minute. Please, honey, this is important, let me finish this call."
"He is at far too low a level to know what is happening," Gwen said. "His involvement is probably an unfortunate coincidence. Still, you should be aware that he represents a potential threat to both you and Jeanine Osmund."
"Yeah, that's fine, now what about Kip?"
"He has recently communicated with me. His transmission contained information of extreme importance. However, that transmission was highly dangerous under the circumstances. Kip is safe for the moment in that the GWE Security forces have not located him. The same is true for you. There is no general alarm, but there is a GWE Security bulletin naming Michael Flynn as wanted for questioning. That could be given a higher priority at any time. They know you are in Pearly Gates, but no more. Is it possible that Omani knows of your involvement with Jeanine Osmund?"
Mike thought for a moment. "I don't know. It's possible. She moved here after I met her, and I helped her cover her tracks. But that's the point, he won't know where we are�
�"
"Assume he will use the security alert and his status to force the cooperation of the local police in locating Jeanine Osmund as a means of locating you," Gwen said. "Perhaps he will not think of that, perhaps he will. Those are real uncertainties and I have no probability estimates. However, it is important that you remain free to act. I advise you to leave that apartment immediately."
"Roger. Just a minute." Mike turned to Jeanine. "Pack an overnight bag," he said. "We're getting out of here in five minutes."
"What—Mike, who are you talking to?"
"Tell you when we're out of here. Get moving."
"It's about Jimmy Omani, isn't it?"
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