"So it could take a while," Colman said.

"Maybe. Who knows? Let's just hope there aren't too many of them in the Army."

At that moment the emergency tone sounded shrilly from the companel. Sirocco jerked his legs off the desk, cut the alarm, and flipped on the screen, It was Hanlon, looking tense.

"It's happened," Hanlon told him. "Kalens is dead. We found him inside the house, shot six times.

Whoever did it knew what they were doing."

"What about the sentries?" Sirocco asked curtly, "Emmerson and Crealey were at the back. We found them unconscious in a ditch. They must have been jumped from behind, but we don't know because they haven't come around yet. They look as if they'll be okay though. The others didn't know a thing about it."

Colman was listening grimly. "What about his wife?" he muttered to Sirocco.

"How is Kalens's wife?" Sirocco asked Hanlon.

"She isn't here, We've checked with transportation, and she was booked onto a shuttle up to the ship earlier this evening. She must have left before it happened." Beside Sirocco, Colman breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Well, that's something, anyway," Sirocco said. "Stay there, Bret, and don't let anyone touch anything.

I'll get onto Brigade right away. We'll have some more people over there in a few minutes." He returned to Colman. "Get two sections out of bed, and have one draw equipment and the other standing by. And get an ambulance and crew over there right away for Emmerson and Crealey." Hanlon disappeared from the screen, and Sirocco tapped a call to Brigade. "It looks as if the fall-guy has gone down, Steve," he murmured while Colman called the ambulance dispatcher on another panel. "Let's see who steps out from the wings now."

CHAPTER THIRTY.

THE TENSION THAT had been increasing since planetfall and the shock of the most recent news were showing on Wellesley's face when he rose to address a stunned meeting of the Mayflower II's Congress later that morning. And as he seemed a sh.e.l.l of the man he had been, the a.s.sembly facing him was a skeleton of the body that had sat on the day when the proud ship settled into orbit at the end of its epic voyage. Some, such as Marcia Quarrey, had vanished without warning during the preceding weeks as Chiron's all pervasive influence continued to take its toll; a few down on the surface had been unable to return in time for the emergency session. Nevertheless, at short notice Wellesley had managed to sc.r.a.pe together a quorum. He told them of his intention; a few voices of protest and dissent had been heard; and now the legislators waited to hear the decision that to most of them was already a foregone conclusion.

"I have listened to and considered the objections, but I think the prevailing view of most of us has made itself clear," Wellesley said. "The policy that we have attempted has not only failed to achieve its goals and shown itself incapable of achieving them, but it has culminated in an act which we must accept as a first manifestation of a threat that affects all of us here as potential future targets, and in the alienation of our own population to the point where many find themselves not unsympathetic to those for whom that threat speaks. Any government seeking a continuance of such a policy would const.i.tute a government in name only.

"We are facing a crisis that jeopardizes the continued integrity of the entire Mission, and it has become evident to me that our difficulties stand only to be exacerbated by a continued division of authority. Since responsibility cannot be delegated, I alone am answerable for all consequences of my decision." He paused to look around the room, and then took a long breath. "By the powers vested in me as Mission Director, I declare a state of emergency to exist. The procedures of Congress are hereby suspended for such time as the emergency situation should persist, and by this declaration I a.s.sume all powers heretofore vested in the offices of Congress, apart from those exceptions that I may see fit to make during the remainder of the emergency period." After a short pause he added in a less formal tone, "And I ask the cooperation of all of you in making that period as short as possible."

Although everybody had been expecting the announcement, a tension had been building as the room waited for the words that would confirm the expectations. Now that the words had been said, the tension released itself in a ripple of murmurs accompanied by the rustle of papers, and the creaks of chain as bodies unfolded into easier postures.

Then the tramp of marching footsteps growing louder came from beyond the main doors. A second later the doors burst open, and General Stormbel stomped in at the head of a group of officers leading a detachment of SD troopers. With dispatch, the troopers fanned out, closed all the exits, and posted themselves around the walls to cover the a.s.sembly, while Stormbel and the officers marched down the main aisle to the center of the floor and turned to face the Congress from in front of where Wellesley was still standing. Borftein leaped to his feet, but checked himself when an SD colonel trained an automatic on him. He sank into his seat, a dazed expression on his face.

Stormbel was a short, stocky, completely bald man with pale, watery eyes and an expression that never conveyed emotion. A thin moustache pencil-lined his upper lip. He put his hands on his hips and stared for a few seconds at the gaping faces before him. "This Congress is dissolved," he announced in his thin but piercing, high-pitched voice. "The Mission is now under the direct command of the Military." He turned his head to Borftein. "You are relieved of command of both the regular and Special Duty forces.

Those functions are now transferred to me."

"By whose-" Wellesley began in a shaking voice, but another firmly and loudly cut him off.

"By my authority." Matthew Sterm rose from his seat and came round onto the floor to face the a.s.sembly defiantly. "This prattling has continued for too long. I have no eloquent speeches to make.

Enough time has been wasted on such futilities already. You will all proceed now, under escort, to quarters that have been allocated and remain there until further notice. We have business to attend to."

He nodded at Stormbel, who motioned at the guards. "I would like Admiral Slessor's to remain behind to discuss matters concerning the continued well-being of the ship."

As the guards started forward and the members continued to sit in paralyzed silence, Ramisson rose and walked haltingly to the center of the main aisle to face Sterm. "I will not submit to such intimidation," he said in a harsh whisper. "Remove your men from that door." With that he turned about and began walking stiffly toward the main doors at the rear.

Stormbel drew his automatic and leveled it at Ramisson's back. "You have one warning," he called out.

Ramisson kept walking. Stormbel fired. Ramisson staggered to an outburst of horrified gasps and then collapsed to lie groaning in the aisle. Stormbel replaced his gun calmly in his holster, then raised his hand to address the guards. "Remove that man, and see to it that he receives medical attention." Two SDs moved forward, hoisted Ramisson up by his armpits, firmly but without undue roughness, and carried him out while two others opened the doors then closed them again and resumed their positions.

"Are there any more objectors?" Sterm inquired. Behind him Wellesley, white faced and haggard, slumped into his chair.

"Stop this now," Borftein advised grimly. "How much of the Army do you think will follow you?"

Stormbel gave him a contemptuous look. "How much of your Army is left?" he asked. "Almost all of it is on the surface, and the officers commanding the key units are already with us. Besides, we control the ship, which is the most important thing."

"For now," Sterm added. "The rest comes later."

Borftein licked his ups and thought frantically. As Stormbel! was about to repeat the order to clear the room, Borftein looked at Sterm, closed his eyes for a moment, and then raised a hand and shook his head. Sterm looked at him questioningly. "I m not sure I even know what's happened," Borftein said.

"It's been too sudden. Just what do you think you're going to do?" From inside the front of his tunic, he slipped his compad surrept.i.tiously beneath the edge of the table.

Sterm emitted a sigh of sorely tried patience. "I will endeavor to spell it out in simple terms," he replied.

"This act of clowns has been..."

While staring at Sterm, Borftein tapped Judge Fulmar's personal call code with his fingertips and moved the compad quietly beneath some loose papers lying against a folder in front of him on the table.

Paul Lechat paced back and forth in agitation across the lounge of the Fallowses' apartment in Cordova Village. "I didn't think the Chironians would go that far." he said. "I thought they would react only against direct violence. Why couldn't they have just let everything die a natural death?"

"Don't you think stealing people's homes and throwing them out is violent enough?" Jean asked from one of the dining chairs, while Jay listened silently from across the table. "What were they supposed to do? They ignored the soldiers and settled it with the man responsible. He should have been expecting it."

Lechat shook his head. "It wasn't necessary. In a few more days Ramisson would have been elected, almost certainly. Then everything would have worked itself out smoothly and tidily. This action complicates everything again. Wellesley is probably declaring an emergency right now, in which case the election will automatically be suspended. It puts everything back weeks, maybe months."

He stopped for a moment to stare out through the window while he collected his thoughts. Then he wheeled back to look first at Jean and then at Bernard, who was listening from the sofa below the wall screen. "Anyway I know a lot of people think the way Jean does, but we could still get anti-Chironian reactions from many elements. That's what worries me. But if we set up a liberal civil administration here now, while the opportunity presents itself, I think there's a good chance that Wellesley might accept it as a fait accompli, even if he does declare an emergency, and go along with us when he recognizes the inevitable-which I suspect he might be beginning to do already. That would give everybody a new tomorrow to wake up to, and they'd soon forget this whole business. But there isn't much time. That's why I skipped the meeting. Now you two can help, pretty much in the ways we've discussed. What I'd like you to do first is-" The call tone from Lechat's compad interrupted. He looked down Instinctively at the breast pocket of his jacket. "Excuse me for a moment."

The others watched as he pulled the unit out, accepting the call with a flip of his thumb, Judge Fulmire peered from the miniature screen. "Are you alone, Paul?" Fulmire asked without preamble. His voice was clipped and terse.

"I'm with company, but they're safe. What-"

"Stay off the streets and keep out of sight," Fulmire said. "Sterm and Stormbel have pulled a coup.

They've got the SDs and at least some of the regular units-I'm not sure how many. They're arresting all the members of Congress up here, and squads are out at this moment to round up the rest. I'm probably on the list too, so this will have to be quick. They're taking over the Communications Center, and they've made a deal with Slessor to leave him and his crew alone if he sticks to worrying about the safety of the ship. Get out of Phoenix if you can. I don't know if-" The picture and the voice cut out suddenly.

"Who was that?" Jean gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Judge Fulmire." Lechat frowned and tapped in a code to reconnect. The unit returned a "number un.o.btainable" mnemonic. He rattled in another code to alert a communications operator. The same thing happened. "The regular net seems to have gone down," he said. "Even the standby channels."

"Oh, G.o.d..." Jean whispered. "They're going to bring out those bombs."

Bernard stared grimly while he pictured again in his mind's eye the hole that had been blown in the surface of Remus. "We've got to stop it," he breathed. "We've got to get a message up there somehow...to Sterm...telling him what he's up against. Thousands of people are still up there."

"He wouldn't believe us." Lechat said bleakly. "It sounds like the first bluff anyone would try."

Jean shook her head. "There must be something-the Chironians! He'd have to believe them. If they beamed a signal up spelling out just what their weapons can do, whatever they are, and with the evidence to prove it, Sterm would have to take notice of that, surely."

"But we don't even know which Chironians to talk to," Lechat pointed out, Bernard fell silent for a few seconds. "Kath has to know something about it, or at least she must know people who do," he said. "After all, there aren't billions of people on Chiron. And Jerry said that she has a lot to do with the people working on the antimatter project at the university. Let's start with her."

Jean glanced at the screen and then looked at Bernard. "Should we try calling her through Jeeves...via the Chironian net? It shouldn't be affected, should it?"

"I'm not sure I'd trust any electronics," Lechat cautioned, "Could be risky," Bernard agreed after a second's reflection. "If Sterm and whoever else is involved have been preparing for this, I wouldn't put it past them to have taps and call-monitor programs anywhere. Someone will have to go there."

"Who," Jean asked.

"Well, Paul can't show his face outside. You heard what Fulmire said." Bernard replied. "So I guess I'll have to."

"But what about the border guards?" Jean looked alarmed. "We don't know who we can trust. Fulmire didn't know which side how much of the Army is on. There could be fighting out there at any minute.

You don't know what you'll be walking into."

Bernard shrugged helplessly. "I know. It's a chance-but what else is there?"

A tense silence fell. Then Jay said, "I know at least one person in the Army who we can trust." The others looked at him in surprise.

Bernard snapped his fingers. "Of course, Colman! Why the h.e.l.l didn't I think of that?"

"Who's Colman?" Lechat inquired.

"A family friend, in the Army," Jean said.

"Ye-as," Bernard said slowly, nodding to himself. "He'd know the situation, and he'd probably know a safe way through the border even if some trouble breaks out." He began nodding more strongly. "And we certainly know we can trust him."

"I could go and see if I can find him," Jay offered. "I don't think I'd attract much attention. Even if the SDs are out, they're not going to be looking for me."

Bernard looked at Lechat. Lechat frowned and seemed about to object. Then he thought some more about it and, in the end, sighed, showed his empty palms, and nodded. Bernard turned back to Jay.

"Okay, see what you can do. If you do find him, ask him to get over here as soon as he can make it."

Jay jumped up and ran to a closet for a jacket. He looked at Jean as he pulled it on. "Yes, Mother, I'll be careful."

Jean forced a smile. "Just remember that," she said.

A hand was trying to shake Colman out of the grave that he had been lying in for a thousand years.

"Serge, wake up," the Voice of Judgment boomed from above, sounding uncannily like Stanislau.

"Hanlon wants you over at the main gate."

"Wha-huh?...Who? Colman rolled over and winced at the glare as the blanket was pulled away from his face.

The Angel Stanislau descended from the radiance and a.s.sumed Earthly form beside the cot. "Hanlon's got someone over at the main gate who wants to talk to you. Says it's urgent."

Colman sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Why didn't he put a call through?"

"Regular comm channels are all down, to the ship everywhere. They have been for over an hour,"

Stanislau said. "Emergency channels are restricted to priority military traffic." Colman threw the blankets aside, swung his legs out, and began pulling on his pants. "Strange things happening everywhere,"

Stanislau told him, handing him his boots. "Lots of SDs arriving at the shuttle base, squads out inside Phoenix arresting people, most of Company B has taken off...I don't know what it's all about."

"Is Sirocco around?" Colman moved over to the washbasin to rinse his face.

"In the Orderly Room. Hanlon got him up earlier.

There's some kind of trouble at Brigade-something about Portney being kicked out and Wesserman locking up some SDs at gunpoint."

Colman swiped his face with a towel, tossed the towel to Stanislau, and s.n.a.t.c.hed a shirt from a closet.

"Do me a favor and straighten out this mess," he said. He put on his cap as he walked out the door, and still b.u.t.toning his blouse, hurried away toward the Orderly Room, The Orderly Room was chaotic as Sirocco, Maddock and Sergeant Armley from First platoon were trying to put out what looked like a fire of flashing lamps on the emergency companel when Colman stuck his head round the door less than half a minute later. "What the h.e.l.l's going on?" he asked them.

"Confusion," Sirocco said while jabbing at b.u.t.tons and talking to screens. "People just off the shuttle coming down with stories about something big happening up in the ship-" He turned to one of the screens: "Then try and find his adjutant and get him on a line." Then back to Colman: "I'm trying to find someone to confirm the rumors."

"Hanlon wants me at the gate for something," Colman said. "Talk to you in a few minutes."

"Okay. Get back here when you're through."

Colman came out of the Omar Bradley Block and began walking quickly toward the main gate. Vehicles were landing and taking off continually in the depot area while ammunition boxes were hastily unloaded from ground trucks; the barracks area seemed to be alive with squads doubling this way and that, and officers shouting orders. Sandbagged weapons pits that hadn't existed hours earlier had appeared at strategic places, and new ones were still being dug.

The guard had been doubled at the main gate. Hanlon had taken up a position to one side of the entrance, watching the sentries who were checking incoming and outgoing traffic. Jay Fallows was standing just outside, by the wall of the sentry post. Hanlon saw Colman approaching and sauntered across to meet him. "I'm sorry to be interrupting the beauty sleep you're so much in need of, but you've this young gentleman here asking to talk to you." Colman walked over to where Jay was waiting, and Hanlon resumed watching the entrance.

Jay began speaking earnestly and in a low voice. "My father asked me to find you. It's urgent. One of the people the SDs are looking for is at the house. Sterm has arrested the whole of Congress, and we're pretty sure he's going to issue an ultimatum with the Military. If they do the Chironians will take out the whole ship. Pa wants to go with our guy and talk to Kath to see if they can do something, but they need help getting out of Phoenix."

Colman's face creased into a frown. "Take the ship out with what?"

"I don't know," Jay said. "It's a lot to go into now, but we're certain they've got the capability. It's really that urgent, Steve. When can you get over?"

"Oh, Christ Wearily, Colman brought a hand up to his brow. "Okay. Look, as soon as I can-"

Footsteps approaching at the double interrupted and made him look around. It was Sergeant Armley, from the Orderly Room.

Armley stopped in front of Colman and beckoned Hanlon over. "Sirocco wants you both back right away," he said breathlessly. "I'll take over at the gate. There's trouble at the shuttle base. Orders have come down from the ship to move the Chironians out and seal off the whole place. Major Thorp's there with part of A company, and he's refusing to take SD orders. We've been ordered to send two platoons. Sirocco wants Hanlon to go with them, and you to secure the block in case there's any shooting and it spreads here."

Colman groaned to himself. Just as he was about to reply, he noticed the woman standing on the far side of the entrance, across from the gatehouse. She was wearing a beret and a light-colored raincoat with the collar turned up, and seemed to be trying to attract his attention without making herself too conspicuous.

"Oh, Jesus-" He looked at the two. "Look, I need a few minutes. Jay, stay right there." He walked across to the woman and was almost face to face with her before he recognized Veronica, for once looking neither impish nor mischievous.

"I've just come down from the ship, Steve." She drew him close to the gatepost.

"Aren't the boarding gates being checked?" Colman murmured, surprised.

"Of course they are. It's all a mess up there."