by Timothy Zahn
"We do have more information now, though," Poirot offered. "The blackcollars—"
"I an not s'eaking tae yae," Daasaa cut him off. "Yae—Colonel 'Ailey—yaer sur'ey is not acce'ta'le."
"My apologies, Your Eminence," Bailey said, feeling his stomach tighten. His men had been working like demons to get their aerial survey of the city finished in the time Daasaa had allotted them, and for the most part they'd succeeded. But all they had to show for it was negative information. "We've begun a second sweep of the city proper, but I don't expect to find anything on this one, either. Still, there are many large tracts in the outlying rural areas that are still being searched."
"Searched for what?" Poirot asked in a low voice.
"The weapons cache you said Phoenix had buried away somewhere," Bailey told him.
"Are you fine-tuning for gunmetal?" Poirot asked. "Because if you're looking just for metal—"
"I know how to do a weapons search," Bailey cut him off, turning back to the Ryqril. "My apologies for the interruption, Your Eminences."
"Yae rill continyae the search," Daasaa said. "General 'Oirot. Tell us a'out yaer contact."
Bailey listened with half an ear as Poirot detailed the brief conversation with Skyler, most of his mind busy trying to extrapolate to what the blackcollars might be planning.
"The 'lackcollars rill attack Athena," Halaak said firmly when Poirot had finished.
"That does now seem more likely," Bailey said cautiously. "On the other hand, Skyler might have asked about the defense laser thresholds just to mislead us."
"Dae yae think they dae not trust General 'Oirot, then?"
"They do trust me," Poirot insisted. "They have no reason to think I'm working against them." He glared at Bailey. "Unless they spotted Colonel Bailey's van and figured out that he was tapping the conversation."
"No," Bailey said firmly. "We were very careful. There's no way they could have made us."
"Then the 'lackcollars rill attack Athena," Daasaa concluded. "Yae rill nake ready to sto' this attack."
Bailey grimaced. More of his men diverted from the task at hand, this latest batch earmarked to guard against an attack they all knew couldn't possibly succeed. But Daasaa's mind was clearly made up, and it would be dangerous to argue further. "As you command, Your Eminence," he said, suppressing a sigh.
"What about the prisoner transfer? Do we still go ahead with that?"
"Yae rill trans'er they as 'lanned," Halaak said. "If re nust s'lit forces, then so nust they."
Which wasn't at all how it worked, Bailey knew. Skyler could just as easily choose to concentrate his forces against one of his possible targets and ignore the other completely. But again, it wasn't something he dared argue at this point. "As you command, Your Eminence," he said again. "In the meantime, Skyler will expect General Poirot to provide some numbers on the laser threshold tomorrow. What do you want us to tell him?"
"Re rill consider," Daasaa said. "Yae rill gi' the orders."
"As you command, Your Eminence," Bailey said, standing up and gesturing to Poirot.
But instead of getting out of his chair, the general was frowning hard at the far side of the room. "A
moment, please," he said slowly. "It just occurred to me that there's another possible location for this Phoenix weapons cache, a location I know you haven't searched."
"There are a lot of places we haven't yet—"
"I mean Aegis Mountain."
Bailey broke off, staring at the other. "That's impossible," he said. "Even the Ryqril haven't been able to find a way in."
For a moment Poirot didn't answer, his lips moving slightly as if he was talking to himself. Then, abruptly, his head snapped around. "My God," he breathed, his eyes suddenly blazing with passion. "It fits. It all fits."
"General—"
"No—listen to me," Poirot cut him off, his words tumbling over themselves in his excitement. "Last year when Lathe came, we thought they were here to assassinate former Prefect Ivas Trendor. But that never made any sense."
"They also got into Athena and ran games through the Security building," Bailey reminded him.
"Only because General Quinn pushed them into it," Poirot said, wincing visibly at the memory. "And then once Trendor was dead, they suddenly closed up shop and left." He tapped a finger on the tabletop.
"But what if the assassination was just a blind? What if what they were really here for was to get into Aegis?"
Slowly, Bailey sat down again. "All right," he said, thinking hard. "But if they have all these weapons, why haven't they used them?"
"Because they first needed Silcox and Reger to build them a proper rebel force," Poirot said. "And we know they did—we've got six of the leaders locked away upstairs."
"And now Skyler's come back to lead them into battle?"
"Why not?" Poirot countered. "They have the personnel, they apparently have the weapons, and with the blackcollars they have some top-notch military leadership." He looked at the Ryqril. "And one of them was obviously snooping around the main entrance into Aegis," he reminded them.
"And of course, with Whiplash they also have the spies?" Bailey suggested.
Poirot stared at him, the excitement draining from his face. "You don't believe me, do you?" he said, his voice subdued again. "You think this is something Skyler told me to feed you."
Bailey shrugged uncomfortably. He hated having to think the worst of his superior this way. "All I know is that none of the Phoenix prisoners has even mentioned Aegis."
"Maybe none of them know about it," Poirot said. "Maybe only Silcox and the blackcollars know. In fact, maybe that's why they worked so hard to get her away from us in the first place."
"Aegis Nountain is sealed," Daasaa said. "Re ha' 'een trying 'or two years tae 'enetrate it. It cannot 'e done."
"Can you afford to take that chance?" Poirot asked.
Halaak's eyes narrowed, his left hand dropping to the short sword belted at his left hip. "Dae yae s'eak thus tae a khassq?" he demanded.
Poirot's lips tightened. "I meant no disrespect, Your Eminence," he said. His voice was properly deferential, but Bailey could hear the clenched teeth behind it. "But I'm concerned that if the blackcollars do intend an attack on Athena, we may find ourselves facing more than catapulted bowling balls or whatever else they can improvise."
"Yae rish tae di'ert e'en nore o' yaer nen tae search the nountain?" Daasaa asked.
"Actually, that may not be necessary," Bailey put in. He still wasn't ready to buy Poirot's conveniently timed reasoning, not by a long shot. But at the same time, he had to admit it wasn't something they could afford to dismiss out of hand. "We know they can't get in or out of Aegis through the main entrance, not with your base there, and you've got the highway blocked as well. All the rest of the terrain in the area is pretty rugged, far too rugged for land vehicles."
"Reach yaer 'oint, Colonel," Halaak rumbled.
"The point is that we have a ring of sensor pylons around the Idaho Springs area that were specifically designed to watch for aircraft," Bailey said. "If there is a back door into Aegis, and if the blackcollars try to move anything substantial out through it, those sensors ought to spot them."
"Assuming the pylons haven't been tampered with," Poirot warned.
"Exactly," Bailey agreed. "I propose, therefore, that we send out a couple of teams to inspect all the pylons and make sure they're functioning properly. Unless they find a problem they should all be back well before nightfall. Even if Skyler does intend to attack Athena, he surely won't move until then."
For a moment the Ryqril conferred between themselves. Bailey kept his eyes on Poirot, who in turn seemed to be carefully ignoring him. "'Ery rell," Daasaa said at last. "Send yaer nen tae exanine the sensors." His eyes bored into Bailey's. "They rill 'e 'ack 'e'ore dark."
"Absolutely, Your Eminence," Bailey assured him.
"What are your orders for me?" Poirot asked.
Daasaa regarded him thoughtfully. "Yae r
ill continue tae assist 'lanning 'or the 'risoner con'oy," he said.
Poirot bowed his head slightly. "As you command, Your Eminence."
Bailey grimaced. The battle architect was offering Poirot all the rope he would need to ultimately hang himself ... and the general, for his part, was grabbing every bit of that rope that he could.
"Yae rill go," Daasaa said. He looked at Bailey. "'Oth o' yae."
"As you command, Your Eminence," Bailey said. Standing up, he and Poirot left the room.
"So?" Poirot asked when the door was closed behind them.
"What do you mean, so?" Bailey said. "We carry out our orders."
"That wasn't what I meant," Poirot said, his voice curiously hesitant. "What do you think—really—about this?"
Bailey sighed. "You're right about the blackcollars' last incursion not making any sense," he conceded.
"Assassination was never one of their usual jobs, at least not according to the histories."
"And this particular killing made no sense on top of it," Poirot said. "Trendor was retired, hardly a threat to them or anyone else."
"True." Bailey cocked an eyebrow at the other. "But on the other hand, the Ryqril are right, too. They've been trying to get into Aegis for two years and haven't made it yet."
"True," Poirot said. "But Ryqril are hardly the most innovative people around."
Bailey looked at him sharply. How could he say such a thing? A senior officer of TDE Security?
Because he wasn't loyalty-conditioned anymore, that was how. It was something Bailey could never let himself forget. "Whatever," he said, letting his tone go plain-tan neutral. "I'll also admit that blackcollars in possession of Aegis Mountain weaponry is a very unpleasant thought."
"Then let's make sure we nail it down right now," Poirot said firmly. "You get those teams out to the pylons, and I'll see if we can come up with a way to nab them when they try to spring their friends."
With a brisk nod, he headed across the situation room.
Bailey gazed at his back as he strode away. "Right," he muttered under his breath. "Assuming you really want to nab them."
"Sir?"
Bailey turned to see Ramirez come up behind him. "I've got the latest batches of reports from the scanning teams," the lieutenant said, waving a sheaf of papers.
"That can wait," Bailey told him. "I need you to find me a couple of tech teams, a few Security men to guard them, and a pair of aircraft to ferry them."
Ramirez seemed taken aback. "That's going to be a little tricky, sir. All the available techs and spotters are out with the scanning teams. The rest are on city monitor duty or getting some sleep."
"What about your Boulder people?"
"They're doing weapons scans up there, too."
"Have them put that on hold," Bailey decided. "I need someone to go check all the Idaho Springs sensor pylons and make sure they haven't been tampered with."
Ramirez grimaced, but nodded. "I'll see who I can find." He started to turn away, then paused. "By the way, I understand you had a check made of all my people last night."
"Just a precaution," Bailey assured him. "You'd already suggested the blackcollars might try to slip someone in through the returning spotter teams. I wanted to make sure the people checking them in also hadn't been infiltrated."
"Very prudent of you." Ramirez's eyes hardened a little. "I understand you also did a check on me."
Bailey felt a flicker of anger. How the hell had Ramirez found out about that? "Yes, I did," he said. "You have a problem with that?"
"I have a problem with my competence being questioned behind my back," Ramirez countered. "If you had questions about my performance, you should have brought them to me directly."
"It wasn't your competence that was at issue, Lieutenant," Bailey told him evenly.
Ramirez seemed to draw back. "You aren't serious."
"Deadly serious," Bailey assured him coldly. "As serious as our enemies are."
Ramirez's lip twitched. "And?"
Bailey studied the other's face, as plain-tan neutral now as Bailey's own. True, the check hadn't picked up any suspicious absences or obvious attitude changes. But from Poirot's experience they knew the Whiplash change could be affected in under twenty-four hours, possibly with as little as a single injection of the damned stuff. So what did even perfect work attendance prove? "You seem to be in the clear," he told Ramirez. "At least, as much as anyone else is."
"I see," Ramirez said stiffly. "Thank you, sir. I'll see about getting you those tech teams." Spinning around in a military about-face that was just a shade crisper than it needed to be, he headed for the communications station.
For a moment Bailey watched him go. Then, turning the opposite direction, he headed for the door Poirot had disappeared through a few minutes earlier. Let Ramirez be annoyed if he wanted to be. Let him think he was under suspicion, too. In fact, it might be best if everyone in Athena started watching everyone else. Just let them get on with their work and their back-watching and leave him alone for a while.
Because it had suddenly occurred to him that there might be a way to prove once and for all who was telling the truth about this alleged Aegis Mountain weapons cache. True, none of the prisoners up in the interrogation rooms had mentioned anything about either the mountain or the weapons.
But then, not all of the prisoners were in the interrogation rooms.
He took the elevator up to the garage, where a handful of Security men and drivers were standing around talking quietly together beside the line of parked vehicles. "Yes, sir?" the duty sergeant said, breaking from the group and stepping over as Bailey came in.
"I need a car," Bailey said tersely, striding past him toward the nearest car.
"Yes, sir." The sergeant gestured, and one of the other men moved hastily to Bailey's target vehicle and opened the back door.
"I'll be driving myself," Bailey said, closing the door as he passed it and opening the driver's side.
"Yes, sir," the sergeant said, sounding a little uncertain. "Ah ... your destination, Colonel?"
"I'll be back when I'm back," Bailey said, ignoring the question. "If there's an emergency, I'll have my comm on channel six."
The other might have said something else, but the slamming of the car door cut it off. Starting the engine, Bailey pulled away and out into the Athena traffic.
Smiling tightly to himself, he headed for the hospital.
CHAPTER 12
It was late afternoon, and Flynn was re-sorting his weapons pouches at Toby's rough-topped table, when through the open door he heard the sound of an approaching air vehicle.
Lying on the bed across the room, Jensen stirred. "Sounds like a patrol boat," he said, starting to get up.
"I'll check," Flynn told him, waving him back down. "You stay put."
He was two steps from the door when Toby appeared in the doorway, moving as fast as his limp would allow. "Security," he puffed. "Get up—get up."
"Where are they?" Jensen asked. He was already sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on his boots.
"Looks like they're heading into town," Toby said, hobbling toward the corner that held the sink and toilet. "But I'm guessing they'll be up here soon enough."
"I don't suppose this mountain has a back door," Flynn said as he scooped up the rest of his weapons and refastened the various pouches to his belt.
"As a matter of fact, it does," Toby said. Getting a grip on the edges of the box the toilet seat was mounted on, he gave it a tug.
And to Flynn's surprise, the whole box swung forward on concealed hinges, revealing a large hole in the cabin floor.
He stepped over for a closer look. It was a large and very deep hole, he saw as he gazed down into the fissure that Toby had called his natural latrine. Narrow and steep-sided, it extended a good two hundred meters straight down. "Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to fly," Toby grunted, rummaging beneath the firewood in the bin built into the side wall. "Here—catch," he said, pulling
out a coil of rope and tossing it to Flynn.
"Where'd you get this?" Flynn asked, frowning as he brushed bits of bark off the rope. It was old but in excellent shape, made of some unfamiliar synthetic. It was smooth enough to be easy to handle, but rough enough to hold secure knots.
"The tooth fairy," Toby said tartly. "Here's Jensen's."
Flynn caught the second coil. "Now what?" he asked, handing it to Jensen. "We tie knots in them and hang on?"
"Do it like this," Jensen said, shaking out the rope and finding one end. With deft movements, he wove the rope around his waist and thighs and chest in a deceptively simple pattern that left him securely trussed up. "Where does the other end go?" he asked Toby.
"There are a couple of pulleys under the floor on opposite sides of the hole," Toby told him, pointing toward the latrine as he resettled the wood in the bin. "Better make a knot in the end once it's through, just in case."
"Right." Carefully, Jensen lay down on his stomach by the hole and turned his head to look under the floor. "Got it," he said, reaching under the boards with his rope and fiddling with something out of Flynn's view. "Flynn?"
"Almost ready," Flynn said, tightening the last knot in his impromptu harness and giving it one last check as he stepped to Jensen's side. "These boards don't look all that sturdy," he warned as he handed over the end of his rope.
"No, but the beams the pulleys are actually attached to do," Jensen assured him as he put Flynn's rope through another unseen pulley.
"Come on, come on," Toby said urgently. "I think I see someone coming."
"Working on it," Jensen grunted, pulling industriously on his rope as he ran the slack through the pulley.
He made it to the end and fed the knotted end through two of the ropes in his harness, again pulling the slack rapidly through and letting the end drop down through the hole. "Flynn?"
"As ready as I'm going to be," Flynn said, pulling his own rope taut and feeding the end through his harness the way Jensen had.
"Just do as I do," Jensen said. Gripping the rope, he slid his legs over the edge of the hole and disappeared through it.
