by Douglas Hill
Keill did not even let himself think about the chance that the strange ship might well have been carrying the man called Quern and that be, for some unknown reason, might have attacked Glr.
Throughout the long night, he regularly formed the inner mental call to Glr.
As regularly, no response came to break the silence. For a wild moment he thought of stealing the remaining shuttle from the roof of the Home and hurtling out to where Glr had been orbiting. But that would finish his mission on the Cluster before it had started. And Glr would not want that, even if she was...
He could not bring himself to confront the word. Instead, he clung to the possibility that there was some simple explanation for Glr's silence. And, since there was nothing else to do, he waited.
It was a basic element in every legionary's training. When waiting was necessary, you waited - calmly, patiently, uncomplainingly.
And you remained alert, ready at all times for the moment that put an end to waiting.
When Joss appeared at Keill's door in the morning, he greeted her with relaxed calm, showing no signs of his night-long turmoil. Nor did he fail to notice a difference in her - a suppressed excitement, shining in the depths of her large eyes. Somehow, on this morning, KeiJl doubted whether it had anything to do with him.
"Come and eat with me," Joss said brightly. "The Council's meeting early today, and they want you there."
Keill raised his eyebrows. "Again ? Why ?"
Her excitement threatened to burst its restraints. "Quern's back."
"Is he?" More anxiety clamoured behind the barrier of Keill's control. So the strange ship last night had been Quern's. Then Glr could be...
But again he pushed that thought away. If Quern was what Keill thought he was, every fragment of his alertness and "wariness would be needed in that confrontation. "Let's not keep him waiting, then," he said, with a convincingly light-hearted smile.
They made short work of breakfast, no more tasty than the previous evening's meal, and were soon entering the heavy double doors of the meeting room. The Council was seated as before, at the long table, and Keill again stood facing them as Joss slipped into her place. He nodded his greetings to Shalet and the two old men, let his glance slide easily across Fillon's chill scowl, then focused his attention on the stranger seated in their midst.
The man was tall, taller even than Keill, but unnaturally, skeletally thin, fleshless skin drawn tightly over the jutting bones of his face. He wore a high-collared, loose tunic with flowing sleeves, almost a short robe, loose-fitting trousers and light shoes like slippers on his long feet. The clothing was
bright and colourful - incongruously so, for the man was an albino. His skin was an unrelieved, corpse-like white - and "white, too, was the thinning hair that straggled nearly to shoulder-length. Yet Keill guessed that the man was only in early middle age - his movements were brisk, his back martially straight.
The albino examined Keill silently for a moment. And Keill noted a flicker of something like puzzlement, even unease, within die unpleasantly red-rimmed eyes in their deep, bony sockets.
"A legionary, I am told?" the man said at last, his voice as colourless as his skin.
"Keill Randor." Keill kept his own voice and face expressionless, standing relaxed and still, though the adrenalin was surging in his veins.
"You are fortunate to have survived the end of your world," the cold voice said. Another flicker showed in the red eyes. "Were there other survivors ?"
'There may have been."
"Ah. Presumably then you have not encountered any. How tragic" The words were spoken with a total absence of feeling. i am Quern, as you will know." The albino paused, but Keill said nothing. "I have been told of the... interesting way you came among us. And of how ... keen you are to join the Cluster's fight against oppression."
Again the words sounded false, unnatural, in that dead voice. Again Keill made no reply, but his eyes locked with the red-gleaming eyes of Quern.
And he knew - instinctively, but beyond any doubt - that he was looking into the eyes of the Deathwing.
"Are you not going to answer ?" Quern asked.
"I wasn't aware you had asked a question," Keill said calmly.
He saw that the others were looking at one another, worried by the hostility that had appeared between the two men. Joss especially looked upset — but then relieved wheir Quern uttered a short, barking laugh.
"Good. At least you are not pouring out assurances of how devoted you are to our cause."
Keill's expression did not change. i came to offer my services as a soldier.
I'm still finding out about your cause."
"indeed. And your services will be welcome." The albino's thin lips twisted in a half-smile. "We would not be so unwise as to reject a legionary. Even though some of us—" he "waved a bony hand towards the still scowling Fillon "—are still a trifle unsure of your... trustworthiness."
I'd be glad," Keill said dryly, "if you could suggest how I might prove myself trustworthy."
'So speaks a man of action." Quern's sardonic smile broadened. "And I shall do just that. There is a task which you can perform for us - after which, if it is completed properly, we will be satisfied."
'Name it," Keill said curtly.
"at the suitable time," Quern replied. "There are preparations to be made and I must soon leave the Cluster again, briefly. When I return, all will be made clear. Until then—" he raised a long white finger, for emphasis "—I must ask you to continue to restrict your movements, and remain within the Home. The outside areas, including the roof, must be off limits."
Keill shrugged. "As you wish."
"excellent." The red eyes flicked towards Joss, a gleam of malicious laughter within them. "I'm sure that restriction will not prevent you from... occupying yourself pleasurably."
As he spoke he rose to his feet, making clear that the meeting had ended.
Keill turned to the door with the others, and Joss moved to join him. They walked together wordlessly for a while, Keill wrapped in thought, Joss glancing at him concernedly now and then.
Finally she broke the silence. "Quern's an unusual person," she said, almost defensively.
"He is," Keill agreed wryly. "Unusual."
"He upsets people sometimes," Joss went on quickly. "He can seem strange, unpleasant. But he's completely dedicated to the Cluster. And he says there's no room in a war like ours for . " " fi!!" feelings. We need to be hard, ruthless, single-minded - ready to make any sacrifice."
Keill shook his head wearily. "I've heard many military leaders say the same thing. That only victory is important, no matter how it's achieved."
"you sound disapproving," Joss replied. "But we have no choice. Against an enemy as powerful as Veynaa, we must fight any way we can."
'My people believed," Keill said, "that if you sacrifice everything to win - all principles, all sense of right - you end up with a pretty hollow victory.
There's a line in a Legion song -better to lose like men than win like beasts."
"But the Legions never lost," Joss murmured.
'They lost, and they died, in a war they didn't know they were fighting,"
Keill said harshly. "Against an enemy who knew all about single-minded ruthlessness - and worse."
Joss looked up at him, her eyes dark and clouded. I'm sorry."
'Don't be." Keill gathered his control, forced a half-smile. I'm a little edgy, that's all. It's being kept in the dark about everything - including now this task Quern has in mind for me."
'Don't worry," Joss assured him. "You'll know what's happening soon. Just wait a while."
"Of course," Keill replied flatly. Til wait'
Two days of waiting later, even Keill's patience was wearing thin, his trained control fraying at the edges.
Nothing had happened in that time that furthered his mission, or that answered any of his questions.
He had not seen Quern again, nor heard anything more from him.
> And, worse, a deathly silence had remained the only response to all of his mental calls to Glr.
Of course his days had not been entirely empty. He had continued to see much of Joss, when she was not occupied with Quern and the Council. They ate together, strolled the corridors, chatted to other Clusterfolk, watched occasional old holo-tapes. Once they had visited the gymnasium to play an intricate variation of hand-ball that was popular in the Home. Keill, with his legionary's reflexes, had eventually won - but Joss had proved lithe, athletic and astonishingly quick.
To an outsider, then, they would have seemed like any young man and woman who enjoyed being together. And Keill might have been happy during those days - had he not carried within him a storm of frustration and anxiety.
It was even worse during those hours when Joss left him to his own devices, and when everyone in the Home seemed to have something to do except him. Then he would wander the corridors and walkways, or more often sit at a window -in his cubicle or in a recreation room - brooding over the bleak landscape of the Cluster, or at night staring ever more despairingly at the starry expanses of sky.
Late in the afternoon of the third day, he was in his cubicle when the walls trembled minutely with a distant, rumbling vibration. For an instant he wondered if another Veynaan raider had swooped down on the Home. But when the sound was not repeated, he guessed its real cause.
One of the shuttles had lifted off from the pad on the building's roof.
And Quern had said he was leaving again, briefly.
A thought that had been germinating in the back of his mind flowered suddenly.
He remembered Quern's words, when the albino had confirmed the restrictions on Keill's movements. The outside of the Home was off limits -especially the roof.
So possibly something was tip there that Keill was partial-larly not allowed to see. And possibly it was still there, though Quern was absent.
Could get on to the roof unseen - at night... At least, he thought sourly, it would be something to do. Aside from going insane with waiting.
On the very heels of that thought came another.
But this time - not his own.
Keill. I am here.
He sprang up with a shout, relief and gratitude flooding through him like a tide.
"What happened? Where have you been?"
I have had to be silent, Glr replied, and later I will have to be silent again. The human called Quern is an extremely powerful short-range telepatb.
Keill sat down again slowly, unnerved by the grave tone of Glr's mental voice.
"I don't understand."
I became aware of his power only when his ship entered the Cluster's atmosphere, Glr replied, because his mental reach is limited. But then I had to shield my mind at once - and yours as well. And communication is impossible through a shield.
Chill realization struck Keill of what it would have meant -to the Overseers secrecy, to his own chances - if Quern had freely been able to read his mind.
"So he must be from the Deathwing. And from one of the Altered Worlds-a mutant."
Without doubt.
"But aren't you in danger?" Keill asked.
I do not think he is aware of me. I touched his mind only for oh instant - and my mind may be too alien for him to have recognised the touch, or my shield.
But he is aware of your shielding, and is pulled by it. He probably believes it is a natural barrier. And be has probed and struck at it many times.
'Struck? I felt nothing."
You are not a telepatb, Glr said. But to another telepath, a mind-blow can be as violent and painful as a physical blow. And within bis limits, Quern's power is enormous. I feel- battered.
Only then, guiltily, did Keill become aware of the intense Weariness that lay behind Glr's words.
"I'm sorry. How can I help?"
You cannot. I will rest soon - and hope that his next visit is as brief as this one. But the Overseers are worried -for Quern will certainly have informed the Deathwing of his encounter with a legionary.
Keill nodded. The only other member of the Deathwing he had met had had no chance to communicate with his leader -the nameless "One" - before he met his death at Keill's hands. But now...
'Does it matter? Quern has no reason to think Vm anything other than I seem to be-a surviving legionary turned drifter."
Perhaps. But the Deathwing, as you know, does not always act reasonably. And I believe that Quern is particularly unbalanced - his mind is repulsive. Glr's voice was sharp with distaste. It may be a cause of his heightened power. You must take extreme care, Keill. And we will not be able to speak when Quern is on the Cluster.
"I understand," Keill said grimly. "Let me tell you now what's been happening.
And one other thing — while Quern's away, I'm going to have a look up on that roof. Tonight"
PART TWO
TRAVEL SPACE
CHAPTER FIVE
Kelll stepped out of his cubicle into the deserted corridor. The night was well advanced and the hard-working Cluster-folk believed in going to bed early. Keill knew that there was no security force, as such, within the Home - the main danger to security was Veynaan attack from the air - and the few folk who worked night shifts, tending the food tanks and other parts of the life support system, would be on the lower levels. And Keill was going upwards.
He walked quickly but boldly to the ascending walkway, and sped up the moving spiral. It ended, of course, at the main corridor that led to the meeting room, to the top level. But a quick search of intersecting passages located a ramp leading upwards, and a heavy door.
He eased the door open with infinite care, an eye pressed to the opening.
Beyond, on the roof, he saw only blackness and a sky full of stars, heard only the moan of the bitter night wind.
Slipping out on to the roof, he paused in deep shadow, letting his eyes adjust. Soon the starlight showed him the bulky outlines of the laser cannon emplacements on the roof's edge, and the upthrust of the landing pad where one of the shuttle ships rested. He moved forward soundlessly. The pad was raised from the roof - at about his shoulder height. Ignoring the broad ramp that led up to the shuttle, he circled the pad, watching and listening. Only when he was satisfied that the shuttle was deserted did he slide up over the edge of the pad and move, a shadow among shadows, to the shuttle. The loading bay was firmly closed, but the personnel airlock gave him no trouble. Inside the ship, the blackness balked even his night vision, but he moved by touch from the control room through the hatch leading to the broad area of the cargo hold. And there his exploring hand found switches that turned on dim illumination.
The hold was nearly empty, save for a metal container, like a solid block no larger than a cubic metre. Keill inspected it closely. There seemed to be no seams which indicated an opening, but there were two slight depressions on either side.
When he touched these, the top of the container slid aside.
Within, carefully gripped by contoured ceramic, lay a shiny metal ovoid. It was no more than half a metre long, and had fine filaments of circuitry and electronic hook-ups trailing from one end like the roots of a plant.
It looked like an innocent, commonplace piece of technology. But an instinctive certainty turned Keill colder than the bitter wind outside could ever do.
Shalet had hinted at some fearsome weapon. And Keill knew beyond doubt that he was looking at it.
But what was it ? A bomb of some sort ? Could an explosive device of that size be likely to "finish off" the Veynaans, as Shalet had put it?
He reached a hand down gingerly, intending to turn the ovoid round and examine it more closely. But he did not complete the movement.
From outside, a sound had penetrated to his keen hearing. A muffled, metallic scrape.
Instantly Keill sent the container's heavy lid sliding back into place, switched off the illumination and moved without a sound into the control room, to crouch by the personnel airlock.
Footsteps soun
ded on the surface of the landing pad outside the ship.
Keill moved back into shadow. There was a chance that, if the unknown person entered, he might turn into the cargo hold and allow Keill to slide out, unseen, through the airlock.
But in the event his luck extended even further. It was the shuttle's cargo bay that swung open, in the hold - and while it moved Keill took advantage of its sound to open the airlock, and slipped out of the ship just as the boots of the unknown visitor sounded within the hold.
Stealthily he crossed the hard, roughened surface of the landing pad and lowered himself over its edge into the deeper blackness of the roof beneath it.
And then his luck ran out
With a faint humming the surface of the roof seemed to fall slowly away beneath his feet.
His reflexes urged him to leap upwards and away like a startled wild creature.
But realization held him back.
The elevator.
He thought back to Shalet*s guided tour. The elevator moved along a sizeable cylindrical vertical shaft, which would make the elevator a plain circular disc, auto-magnetically supported, and flush with the roof's surface when at the top of the shaft. So he had not noticed it in the darkness until he had stepped on to it and his weight had somehow triggered it.
The elevator slid smoothly downwards. But above, Keill heard the thud of hurrying boots. The mysterious visitor to the shuttle had not missed the hum of the mechanism.
A hand-torch flashed above, the light spilling down the smooth metal sides of the elevator shaft. Keill crouched, hugging the opposite side, while the light probed down. But the elevator had dropped farther, and the torch-beam seemed never quite to overtake it enough to pick out Keill's crouching form. He felt sure he had not been seen.
But there were no other openings into the elevator shaft. Keill rode it to the bottom, knowing that he was still in danger, if some night worker was waiting on the lowest level to see why the elevator was working.
When it came to rest at last, part of the cylinder wall — a hatchway through -which the elevator could be loaded -clicked open automatically. Dim light filtered through the opening, but nothing else. No sound, no shout of alarm.
