A Knight of Ghosts and Shadows by Poul Anderson. Chapter 13, 14, 15, 16

officers and locals who’ve worked themselves close to the Gospodar’s

hand in the past several years. A clever, widely traveled captain of

Naval Intelligence, such as–ahem–could help me get a shrewd notion of

whom to suspect. I’d order fleet dispositions modified accordingly,

again on an unalarming pretext. When this was done, I’d have the

appropriate arrests made, then broadcast a ‘hold everything’ to the

populace, then wait on the qui vive to see what the interrogators dig

out.”

Memory made Kossara wince. Flandry laid an arm about her shoulder.

“We’ve a stiff way yet to go,” he said, “but we should be home safe by

blossom time.”

She thawed, flowed into his embrace, and whispered, “Thanks to you.”

“No, you. If you’d lacked courage to visit Diomedes, the strength to

stay sane and fight on–Why quibble? We’re both magnificent. The species

has need of our chromosomes.”

“Lots and lots of fat babies,” she agreed. “But do you mean it about

spring … we may have to wait that long?”

“I hope not. The creaking sound you hear is my gentlemanliness. I’m

sitting on its safety valve, which is blistering hot.”

She touched a corner of his smile. Her own look became wholly serious.

“Are your jests always armor?” The question trembled. “Dominic, we may

not live till spring.”

“We’ll take no chances, heart of mine. None. I plan for us to scandalize

our respectable grandchildren.”

“We’ll have to take chances.” She drew breath. “I can’t become pregnant

till my immunity treatment’s reversed. Tonight–We’ll not deceive Father

and Mother. The first chaplain we find can marry us.”

“But, uh, your cathedral wedding–”

“I’ve come to see how little it matters, how little the universe does,

next to having you while I can. Tonight, Dominic. Now.”

He seized her to him.

A flash went blue-white in the front windows.

They sprang up. The light had not been blinding, but they knew its

color.

Flandry flung the door wide and himself out onto the porch. Cold poured

over him, sharp liquid in his nostrils. Stars glinted countless. Between

shadow-masses that were trees, he saw the craterside shelve away

downward into the murk which brimmed its bowl. Distance-dwindled, a

fireball yonder lifted and faded. The cloud pillar following appeared

against a constellation just as the thunder rumbled faintly in his

skull.

“That was home,” Kossara said out of numbness.

“A tactical nuke, doubtless fired from an aircraft,” responded a machine

within Flandry.

The danger to her flogged him aware. He grabbed her arm. “Inside!” She

staggered after him. He slammed the door and drew her against his

breast. She clung, beginning to shudder.

“My love, my love, my love, we’ve got to get away from here,” he said in

a frantic chant. “They must have been after us.”

“After you–” She tautened, freed herself, snapped at steadiness and

caught it. Her eyes gleamed steel-dry.

“Yes. But we’ll take a few minutes to pack. Food, clothes, weapons.”

Defiant, he also tried phoning the manor. Emptiness hummed reply. They

trotted to the shed where the car was, stowed survival gear within,

trotted back for more, boarded.

The cabin tumbled from sight. Flandry swept radar around the

encompassing darkness. Nothing registered. A traffic safety unit wasn’t

much use here, of course, but at least this bubble carrying them had a

prayer of crawling to safety before the military vessel that did the

murder could find it.

If–“Wait a second,” Flandry said.

“What?” Kossara asked dully.

He glanced at her, dim in star-glow and wanness off the control panel.

She sat hunched into her parka, staring ahead through the canopy. The

heater had not yet taken hold and the chill here was no honest outside

freeze, but dank. Air muttered around the car body.

He dropped near treetop level and activated the optical amplifier. Its

screen showed the wilderness as a gray jumble, above which he zigzagged

in search of a secure hiding place. Though belike they had no immediate

need of any–“I’ll take for granted we were a principal target,” he

said, quick and toneless. “Snatching us from the household would be too

revealing. But if the killers knew where we were, why not come directly

to our lodge? If they even suspected we might be there, why not try it

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *