One forester sawed at the tree as the other sailed restraining ropes around the upper branches. Ritl circled underneath, acting more like a real dog than Ravna had ever seen among Tines, even singletons. Ritl wasn't saying much. She just looked curious and mystified and-for once-as stupid as she probably was. But the dogs Ravna remembered were plenty smart enough to realize when their betters were upset-and surely Ritl remembered Amdi. She had caused poor Amdiranifani enough problems. Ravna hoped the little beast couldn't be hurt as much as Jefri and Amdi's other friends.

As they lowered the body to the ground, Jefri shook himself free of Magda and Elspa. Everyone but Ritl stepped back at his approach. Fortunately, the corpse's head was turned away from view; it looked like the tree branch had burst through the face. The body was shrouded in a long cloak. As Jefri knelt beside it, Ritl slid forward, peering suspiciously at the body. Jefri waved the singleton away. He reached for the cloak- Ritl emitted a piercing squawk and darted past him. She tore at the corpse's throat, screaming in rage.

Jefri didn't seem to notice. He had fallen to his knees and was staring in blank shock. Magda and Elspa rushed forward to grab Ritl, but the singleton rolled off the corpse and scuttled into the underbrush on the high side of the path. She was making a weird hooting noise. After a moment, Ravna recognized the sound. It was a small part of laughter.

Jefri didn't look up, but when he spoke, his voice was full of wonder. "This isn't any part of Amdi."

And finally, Ravna took a close look at the torn, dead thing. One paw extended beyond the cloak. The claws were painted; what might have been a fetter was made of silver. All else aside, the creature's grayed muzzle made it older than any of Amdi.

Woodcarver was mingled with the humans around the corpse. She pulled the cloak entirely aside and stared for a long moment at the corpse. Then she stepped away.

"Is this anyone you know?" asked Ravna, but Woodcarver didn't answer and now the other packs were crowding as close as they could get.

"No one I've ever seen," one said in Samnorsk.

"It could be a recent addition to someone we know."

"Unlikely. It's too old."

vin Verring put in: "We'll have to get to the other deaders before the birds strip them down." Now that this was simply a whopping mystery, such things were easier to say.

In her hidey-hole at the side of the path, Ritl was still chortling. Now she started gobbling loudly, more like the usual Ritl.

This time, no one ignored her. Heads came sharply around, then turned to stare at one another in consternation. After a moment, even Ravna understood the simple chords: "Vendacious dead. Vendacious dead. Vendacious dead!"

CHAPTER 42.

There was no word in Samnorsk for the quality of the next twenty-four hours. Woodcarver said there were chords for it in Tinish: a yodel that denoted wrenching change, a time filled with events that might lead to total catastrophe, or survivable disaster, or maybe grand victory. For Ravna it was a nonstop run of problems and decisions, punctuated by short catnaps, food, and Lisl Armin's help with Oobii's sickbay equipment. "You're dehydrated, starved, with half-healed lacerations all over. Food and rest and the sickbay can easily make those things right. Oobii sees evidence of a concussion. That shouldn't be a problem as long as you don't get too stressed out, but I'm afraid sickbay isn't up to truly curing the problem." Lisl brightened: "On the other hand, I bet I can fix your broken nose and facial bones! I'll just need a few hours of your time, and then you'll have to be careful of yourself-"

Ravna shut her off there. There just wasn't time for cosmetic frills- The ship woke her from a nap in the mid-afternoon of the next day. She actually felt pretty good! But the first full meeting with the remaining Children was downstairs in just fifteen minutes. As she left the command deck, she was reviewing her personal log and Oobii's latest news. The starship had tracked Tycoon's airships to a landing at some outpost east of the Icefangs. For resupply? In any case, the ships rose again and headed south. Closer to home, Scrupilo had taken his little airboat-the Domain's only surviving aircraft-to overfly Nevil's caravan.

One of the first things Ravna had done was to sweep Oobii for lossage and vandalism. She had quietly removed the amplifier stage from Pham's beam gun; the thought of some software glitch slagging Newcastle town was just too scary. On the other hand, she hadn't wasted time on Nevil's interior decoration, so when she showed up in the "New Meeting Place," she found that a lot had changed. Gone was the friendly atmosphere that Nevil had set up when he was peddling democracy. There were none of the game environments, and only one or two computational access points. Nevil had mercilessly stripped the ship to set up the surveillance system that she had noticed the day before. The walls had a new theme, a starscape. The view was in the galactic plane, but very far out, at the edge of the abyss, perhaps in the Low Transcend. The view from the Straumers' High Lab.

There was a podium set against the intergalactic dark, with a seat for Nevil that was almost as impressive as the throne he had once built for Ravna. Ravna walked tentatively to the podium, but she did not sit down. She saw smiles and greetings, but no joy.

Today, the room held twenty packs and only about seventy Children. It was strange the way the kids would stare at her-and then look away. Repulsed? She knew what a ruin her face was; surely they would get used to it. The packs didn't seem so affected. She noticed Flenser and Woodcarver in the audience. Ah! And there was Jefri, too, sitting impassively a little apart from everyone else.

Ravna said, "We all need to be talking more than ever now. Given the state of the interfaces"-she waved around the room-"that may be a problem. I wanted to make sure you know what I've been doing, what Oobii is seeing. I-I also want to hear what you've been up to, what's worrying you most."

She noticed that Wenda Larsndot, Sr., was already standing, her hand raised. Giske Gisksndot bounced to her feet. "I want to talk about Nevil! We lost half the human race yesterday."

"They wanted to go. Good riddance." That was from someone hidden from Ravna's view, but the remark was not intended to be anonymous. Around the room, many of the Children were nodding agreement.

"Yes!" shouted Elspa Latterby. "Instead, we need to go after that Tycoon fellow. He stole my little sister!" And Edvi and Timor and Amdi and Jo and Pilgrim and Screwfloss and.... Agreement and argument swirled all around. Suddenly Ravna felt as incompetent as ever with the Children.

She raised her hand, a tentative request for order, and- Everyone fell silent.

How did I do that? For a moment Ravna was speechless herself. "Look, everybody, I have various pieces of information about some of these problems. But please, let's take things a step at a time. Wenda, you seemed to be first?"

"Yes, uh, thanks. This is a little off-topic, but I think it's important. I talked to Johanna yesterday, before she went up to Starship Hill." Once more, the silence was total. "She told me some things she said we need to know and some other things we are honor-bound to do. First off, there were no 'Tropical terrorists' on those rafts. There was no bomb; the killing was done with the beam gun on Oobii."

"We've guessed that," said vin, his voice flat and deadly.

Wilm Linden waved at Ravna. "But you could prove it, right? Oobii must have logs."

"Yes." Short of an underlying software failure, she could uncover any attempt Nevil had made to hide his actions. "I'll get the logs, but I'm afraid Nevil will just say they're faked."

Wenda made a dismissive gesture. "Jo's main point was that we owe these Tropicals. They may not have minds like packs or humans, but she says it was their decision to rescue her and their sacrifice that saved her life. She asked-ah, actually the word she used was 'demand'-that we treat them well and help them return home if that's what they seem to want."

Woodcarver raised several heads, all looking in Ravna's direction. "If I may?" she said.

"Yes. Please."

"I've already moved most of this mob up to the old embassy. Ten raft crews is more than in any past shipwreck. It'll be very expensive to adequately enlarge the place.... but I'm willing to do so. That's partly because they're innocent parties"-a nod in Wenda's direction-"and partly because if we mistreat Tycoon's creatures, we increase the risk to my Pilgrim and all the other poor souls Tycoon is holding."

Ravna nodded. "Thank you, Woodcarver. Was there anything else, Wenda?"

"Oh! Yes. We have a little inventory problem down at the South End. One thing Nevil wasn't lying about was the rafts' main cargo."

"Oh yeah," someone said, "the peace offering from Tycoon."

"Well, whatever you call it, this cargo is not junk. There's about fifteen tonnes of fabric." Wenda rolled her eyes in distress. "It's as good as anything we currently make. There are other things; we're still going through the containers. So far we count nine hundred and five voice-band radios."

Tycoon would have been pleased by the stupefied expressions that Ravna saw around the room. Wenda shrugged. "Okay, that's all my news." And she sat down.

One by one, everyone had their say. Most of the kids seemed to realize that Tycoon was both out of reach and a new kind of problem. The concern about the Denier exodus was different. Giske said, "There have always been Deniers, but Nevil made the idiocy deadly. My Rolf was such a good person. I'd never have married him otherwise. But he bought into everything Nevil was peddling. We argued about it every night, especially after Ravna disappeared. Now he has my kids, and I want them back!"

There was a muttering of agreement, not just about Giske's family, but about everyone's experience.

Ravna glanced at Jefri. Jef was also a good person. That wasn't sufficient to solve the problem.

"In the end, they'll come crawling back," said Wenda Larsndot, sounding much less gentle-minded than usual. "Most Deniers never bothered to learn how to live here. The idea of them living in the wild is a joke!"

"That's not the point!" said Giske, her voice rising, "So far no one has overestimated Nevil's capacity for evil. Maybe he's one of those nutso-freakos who loses big time and then takes his followers into a corner and murders them! I want my children back! Now!"

The meeting went on for another half hour and then there were separate chats with Woodcarver and various Children. But not with Jefri; he left right at the end of the meeting.

Scrupilo's radio had failed, but Oobii could see that both the airboat and Scrupilo were well enough. He would be back in an hour. Maybe he could add something pro or con to Giske's unpleasant theory. Ravna straggled off for a short nap.

As she settled down in her old room by the command deck, she wondered again at her success in the meeting. Not since the Children were little-and rarely even then-had the kids deferred to her as they had this afternoon. Maybe they saw her as a competent hero who had been to hell and back. Ha. If they only knew how little of that was her doing. It still bothered her the way the kids winced when they looked at her crushed nose and cheek. But what if that wasn't revulsion? What if the kids saw the injury as proof of tremendous sacrifice? Then sympathy and admiration all worked their magic in her favor. If it had been Nevil in her shoes, he'd squeeze that advantage as hard as he could, as long as he could. She thought about the notion for a moment, struggling to hold back sleep. Maybe she was a fool but, "Ship!"

"Yes, Ravna?"

"Please call Lisl Armin and tell her I'm a go for the face repair."

And then she slept.

Scrupilo's overflights didn't support Giske's worst-case theory. Ultimately, Nevil might be as crazy as Giske thought, but the Denier caravan was well equipped, and well prepared. Considering all the gear they had stolen, "well equipped" was no surprise. As for being well-prepared-Bili Yngva had something to do with that. The logs showed that Bili had spent a lot of time up here on the command deck, planning. He had recognized some of the gear in the Lander-what Ravna had mistaken for junk-and figured that it might still have limited functionality. That accounted for the strange thefts from the Newcastle catacombs. As for the fire they set in the Lander-Nevil and Bili really did believe in Countermeasure. The details were lost in a chaos of corrupted log files-what looked like a system failure, not encryption. Maybe she could unscramble the mess eventually, but for the moment she concentrated on trying to contact Tycoon and trying to break into the orbiter.

Meantime, Nevil was probing back at Oobii. The Chief Denier-that was her most polite term for him-had most of the commsets, and access to the orbiter. Ravna deliberately left the Denier user accounts in place, but in virtual cages. Nevil was all over them, probing for security holes, posting Nevilish propaganda. The incompetent hacking was very informative-to Ravna.

Woodcarver sent scouts with truce flags after the Deniers. They were peacefully received and allowed to talk to whomever they pleased. They even persuaded six from the caravan to return.

But when Ravna walked the streets of Newcastle town, the empty houses were everywhere, tears in the thin fabric of humanity. Denial had hijacked almost half of the human race, and there was yet a trickle of Children still departing, trying to catch up with the main group.

After five days, Nevil's exodus reached its destination, a warm-springs cave system more than one hundred kilometers to the northeast. Woodcarver recognized the place. She told Ravna that she'd known about it for about a century and always believed it too dangerous for long-term settlement.

The place was beyond the range of Scrupilo's little airboat. Three days passed, where the only word was Nevil's voice reporting and happy messages from various of his followers. He was promising pictures any day now. When it came down through the orbiter, Ravna put the video in the Meeting Place.

Ravna and Woodcarver were present at the first showing, along with almost all the remaining Children and their Friends.

Nevil's "Best Hope" settlement was near the edge of a hanging valley set in the wall of the Streamsdell river valley. It was in the Icefangs, just beyond Woodcarver's territorial claims in that direction. Those highlands were not much favored by Tinish hunter-farmers, but Nevil was optimistic. In fact, the first video showed him near the middle of the Streamsdell Valley. "This land is ideal for humans, for independence and growth. Come see this in a year. There will be the green buds of our new hardicore grass, a chartreuse carpet stretching all the way to the edge of the Nordhus glacier."

"Good luck, asshole!" someone in the audience shouted. "You guys never grew anything when you were here."

The viewpoint bumpily slewed around, away from the glacier, past the river and then up the north valley wall. Some of the Tines were making wondering noises. vin said, "Hei, look! That must be why they picked this place!"

From the camera's position, they could see something that was probably not visible to travelers taking the usual route along Streamsdell: a vertical slit in the dark rock of the side valley.

"That's what, twenty meters tall?" someone said.

Nevil's friendly voice rambled on behind their local commentary: "-apparently the Tines were never aware that the warm springs here supported a cave system. It is a truly human discovery." He walked back into the field of view. "Fortunately, the team that found it were loyal to the best human values. Jefri Olsndot reported this directly to me."

The hall erupted. "That son of a bitch!" "All that time he was the 'great explorer,' he was working for Nevil!"

Ravna had already checked: Jefri was not in the room.

On the display, Nevil had raised his hands, almost as if he knew the racket his announcement would cause. "I know, I know. It could not have been a purely human discovery. Jefri was accompanied by pack Amdiranifani. Friendship with the Tines will always be our policy. We seek friendship with Woodcarver. We have found friendship with Tycoon of the Tropics."

There was angry laughter. "Hei, don't forget your late good friend Vendacious!" and, "Ten days ago it was 'Tycoon of the East Coast.'"

Nevil continued, "But my friends, a time has come for moral decisions. For too long, we've accepted the advice of misguided humans and Tines. Humans who truly want peace have a place with our settlement here at Best Hope. There is no need for the endless preparation for apocalypse that Ravna Bergsndot has forced upon you and the Tines of Woodcarver's Domain. There was a time when we were too young and too desperate to know any better. Ravna and Woodcarver and Flenser saved the lives of all us young refugees who survived their initial massacre. We owe them so much. But at the same time, we owe our parents. They died at the High Lab in a noble effort, the highest striving that any humans have ever undertaken. We must not fall into the destructive hatred that Ravna preaches."

"Same old, same old!" Giske said. "We have records."

Ravna heard vin reply, "I'm sure Nevil will soon have his own records."

"Besides, no one knows what really happened at the High Lab," said someone else, that Ravna couldn't see.

"We don't even know what happened in near space, ten years ago!"

"Shut up!"

Nevil's voice swept on, leaving a wake of tiny dissensions. "I hope that as more of you take honest inventory of the facts, you'll see beyond the loyalties of the past, and that you and your friends-including any Tinish Best Friends!-will come to join us here at our redoubt of Straum. All who come with honest hearts will be welcome. But whether you agree with us or not-please! Whatever the disagreements, peace between our two human fragments is a desperate necessity. We may be all that is left of our race. In fact, after the galactic genocide of ten years ago, we may be all that is left from the High Beyond."

Now Nevil was walking up the hillside, toward the entrance of his "redoubt." His people were coming out, walking down to meet him, all smiles and laughter. Surrounded by familiar faces, Nevil turned and looked into the camera. "So even if we remain apart, even if we have profound disagreements ... let us cooperate in surviving. You of the Domain have immense resources. You have Oobii and the treasures in Newcastle. These are the shared inheritance of our Beyonder origin. Let us cooperate in using them."

That first video left the kids arguing throughout the afternoon. The second and third videos were so similar that by the time the fourth one came in, Ravna just watched the kids' reaction from the bridge. There was no crowd in the Meeting Place; the message could be rewatched at any time. The live audience consisted mainly of sad Children hoping to see a few seconds of their lost loved ones.

But Nevil's fourth message was different.

The video started with pictures of the Deniers' new construction, inside the caves. They were building without the aid of Oobii technology, but now Ravna saw the use the Deniers had made of the gear stripped from the Straumer Lander. Indeed, it was not junk-she'd simply never figured out the user interface! Under sunny artificial lighting, the caves looked warm and dry. Three "participation homes"-that's what Nevil called them-were already in place. Fresh timber was stacked everywhere, sawn and measured, ready for the construction of more housing. The timber and carpentering must be from Tycoon via Dekutomon. Somehow Nevil had patched things up with his remaining ally.

The few Children down in Oobii's Meeting Place were using their new radios to tell others about the pictures. By the time a crowd started to form in the Meeting Place, Nevil had finished his show-and-tell of Best Hope marvels and was moving on to the platitudes. As usual he was surrounded by smiling faces. But now, Ravna wasn't paying much attention; she could almost recite what the rest would be. Sure enough: "So even though we have profound disagreements ... let us cooperate in surviving. You of the Domain have immense resources. We at Best Hope have the goodwill of Tines from the Tropics all the way to the Long Lakes and the East Coast. We have made peace with what was once a fearsome Enemy: Tycoon. By winning his trust and goodwill, we have secured the release of everyone he is holding. The release"- Ravna's eyes snapped up to the display. Downstairs, she heard gasps and then babble.

-"is without conditions. It's happening because we showed Tycoon that-unlike Ravna and Woodcarver-we of Best Hope mean him no harm." Nevil paused. Around him, his Deniers were cheering. Downstairs on the Oobii, the Children were cheering too, but more raggedly.

"We expect," continued Nevil, "that most of the newly freed will prefer to stay here at Best Hope." He paused, letting them all think on the consequences of that. "But we recognize that for the most extreme of Ravna's acolytes, that would destroy whatever goodwill our effort should bring." His expression darkened, one of the rare moments when the public Nevil looked angry. "Make no mistake. We won't trade the freedom of any of these Children. We won't force anyone to return to Ravna and Woodcarver and Flenser. But we welcome a peace party from the Domain. Any may come. Your party will have free access to all who are released. You can determine for yourself the desires of the freed Children and Tines."

Ravna saw that Elspa Latterby had collapsed in tears. She wasn't the only one weeping. Ravna ran out of the bridge, heading for the Meeting Place.

CHAPTER 43.

Everyone wanted to go to the Great Prisoner Release. Woodcarver exercised some of her old authority and asked Ravna to come up to the New Castle for a private chat. They met in Woodcarver's throne room. Sht was big enough for its own little throne now. The other puppy nestled on the shoulders of another member.

"Nevil has stolen half the human race and almost all the equipment that wasn't nailed down. I don't want the rest of you in his claws."

Ravna nodded; she had spent the afternoon talking to the kids, and worrying about the same thing. "But you'll provide a military escort, right?"

"Of course! And unless Nevil has magic we don't know about, my troops totally outgun him. But consider. We have only Nevil's word of this agreement"-there was still no direct communication with Tycoon-"and if there is a deal between those two, we have no idea what it is. For all I know, Tycoon could field a force that would trump mine. There is no treachery that I put beyond these two."

That was something the remaining Children agreed on, too. "Okay. I think I can persuade most of the Children to stay behind." Ravna no longer looked like the victim of a sadistic mugging, but the kids were still amazingly solicitous of her. She had to be careful in making casual statements lest they take them as imperatives. "I am going, however."

Woodcarver emitted a sigh. "That's what I was afraid of, and I fear it undoes all our other caution."

Ravna smiled. "I take it that you're not going?"