The Kolnari did, snapping away her notescreen, then going over to check the injured technician. n.o.body had attended to her. Despite her being an enemy, Channa felt a little squeamish looking at the white splinters and the quivers of pain that ran across the fine-boned oval lace.

"She's saying it mas a regulation medium-heavy Ufter, when she looked it over," he said. "He's checking. Belazir says it's not your fault."

Sweat was running down Channa's back. She began to relax, then swore under her brejh as the warrior drew a knife. The technician closed her eyes and tilted her head; a quick stab in the back of the neck and she was still.

"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 disa.s.sembled 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 sc.u.mvermin to himself some time ago. The battle of delay and lies she had waged against him was just as skillful 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. 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 sc.u.mvermin."

"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 torture 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 sc.u.mvermin 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 - 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 - or the next five."

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

Belazir returned his attention to the game.

"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 G.o.d. 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 humbly. "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."

"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 ourselves. 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 - 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 striking. 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 translation.

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

"That-is-not -funny" Channa subvocalized.

The Kolnari touched her lighdy with the point of the dagger, then returned to his chair, leaving her 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 something 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 frustration 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 shrieking. 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 -" "- eat s.h.i.t 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 amus.e.m.e.nt 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. "Seventyfive wins for me and three for you. Ah, well." He dapped his hands, and attendants brought his equipment. "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."

"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 - I've got some plans on that tactic -* 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.

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 recognized.

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

"Ah, um." Simeon sounded slightly embarra.s.sed, she thought. "Well, you know how 1 like to collect stufE They were cheap - a ship needed some fuel bad and didn't have credit. And I just liked the thought of having my own a.r.s.enal. '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-G.o.d 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 -"

"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 a.s.sists, 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?"

"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 pa.s.sageways."

"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 fighting."

"h.e.l.l, better to win and live," Simeon said.

"In the meantime," Amos said, standing and sweeping his eyes from screen to screen, "push them hard. They are incapable of resisting a territorial challenge from a weaker opponent - even when it would be logical to pull back. Take more risks."