mad that they went galloping off to take out the Terran base there with their
bare hands. Nobody on the ship ever saw anything like it before.”
“Christ, that’s terrible!” Dulaney exclaimed. “What happened to them?”
“Oh, they’re okay,” Bob’s voice answered. “Our guys at the base saw them coming
on the recce scopes and got the hell out. The base was evacuated—of personnel,
anyhow—it seems they left a lot of equipment behind. Must have been a real
panic.”
“Who was in charge down there?” Dulaney asked, dismayed.
“Caspar Lang and Giraud. They got away in one of the military landers with the
last of the garrison, but they hadn’t arrived back at the Orion when the message
was transmitted. Apparently they weren’t being very communicative, so no one was
too sure exactly what had happened. We’re standing by for an update.”
Dulaney frowned to himself for a second or two. “If they’ve been kicked out of
Padua and we don’t even have a base there anymore, it means the whole Paduan
program just came apart at the seams.”
“I know—that’s why I thought you ought to hear about it,” Bob said.
“Any more?” Dulaney asked.
“Not for now. Shall I call through there again when we get the next bulletin?”
“Yes, do that. Thanks, Bob. I’ll talk to you later.” Dulaney cut the call and
looked up at the numb faces across the table. “Well, I guess you all heard that.
It sounds as if they’ve really screwed up this time. Let’s wait and see what
comes through next. . . .” His eyes came back to Ramelson. “Anyhow, in the
meantime, where were we? You were just about to say something, I think, Burton.”
Ramelson emitted a long, remorseful sigh. “I agree with Phil,” he replied. “The
most charitable view we can take is to attribute it all to psychological
breakdown within the mission’s directorate, caused by a combination of high
stress, excessive demands of responsibility, and totally unforeseen effects of
the remote extraterrestrial environment. It’s imperative that the situation be
remedied immediately, before we run into any further misadventures. My proposals
are therefore as follows:…”
38
CAPTAIN MASON OF THE U.S. SPECIAL FORCES ACKNOWLEDGED THE call on the monitor
panel inside the guardroom of the main perimeter gatehouse at Genoa Base One.
“Taloid riders and vehicles approaching the gate, sir,” the voice of Pfc.
Caronetti reported from the searchlight post on the upper level. “Some of the
passengers appear to be Terrans.” At the same moment the screen in front of
Mason came to life to show the view being picked up by a rooftop camera. A
procession of walking wagons and mounted Taloids was approaching along the broad
avenue between steel lattices, girderwork frames, and pipe-draped processing
tanks that led from the city. The pace was slow and easy, giving no cause for
alarm.
“I wonder what the hell this is,” Mason muttered over his shoulder to Petrakoff,
the guard sergeant.
“Five’11 get you ten it’s Zambendorf and his people showing up at last,”
Petrakoff said.
Mason stared at the screen for a few seconds longer, and then nodded. “Yeah . .
. you’re probably right, Jan. You’d better alert the Base Commander. Call three
more of the guys out front and get them helmeted up on standby. I’m going
outside to join Pierce and Macnally and find out what’s happening.”
In the first of the open carriages behind the advance guard of Genoese cavalry,
Zambendorf was sitting between Abaquaan and Arthur, facing Galileo and Moses,
who had their backs to the raised platform supporting the seats of the two
Taloid coachmen. The rest of the team was in the second carriage with Leonardo,
the Genoese mapmaker, and Lancelot, Arthur’s knight who had brought Galileo out
of Padua. Various aides and officials from Arthur’s court followed in the train
behind, which included Leonardo’s family, Lord Nelson, and a representative
contingent of Druids.
The advance guard emerged into the clear area in front of the main gate through
the perimeter fence of Genoa Base, and moments later a searchlight beam swung
round to illuminate the procession in brilliant white and transform the
surrounding structures into ghostly skeletons of steel standing out vividly