scope and saw him plainly. “We’re running out of patience.”
He delayed kissing Miliko yet again, heard Bounder nearby translating a steady
flow to the Old Ones. He started through the camp in the direction of the
troops. Others began to walk through the seated hisa, coming to join with him.
And not alone staffers and resident workers. Men from Q came, as many as the
residents. He reached the edge of the gathering and found that Bounder was
behind him, with a number of the biggest hisa males.
“You don’t have to go,” he told them.
“Friend,” Bounder said. The men from Q said nothing, but they showed no
inclination to turn back.
“Thanks,” he said.
They were within clear sight of the troops now, at the very edge of the
gathering. Africa troops indeed; he could make out the lettering. “Konstantin”
the officer said over the loudspeaker. “Who sabotaged the base?”
“I ordered it,” he shouted back. “How was I to know we’d have Union down here?
It’s fixable. Got the parts. I take it you want us back.”
“What do you have going on here, Konstantin?”
“Holy place. Sanctuary. You’ll find it marked Restricted on the charts. I’ve got
a crew together. We’re ready to go back, repair the machinery. We leave our sick
with the hisa. Open up main base only until we know the attack alert is firmly
off up there. Those other bases are experimental and agricultural and produce
nothing useful to you. This crew is sufficient to handle main base.”
“You making conditions again, Konstantin?”
“You get us back to main base and have your supply lists ready; we’ll see you
get what you need, quickly and without fuss. That way both our interests are
protected. Hisa workers will be cooperating with us. You’ll get everything you
want.”
There was silence from the other side. No one moved for a moment.
“You get those missing machine parts, Mr. Konstantin.”
He turned, made a move of his hand. One of his own staff, Haynes, went treading
back, gathering up four of the men.
“If you’re missing anything, don’t look for patience, Mr. Konstantin.”
He did not move. His staff had heard. It was enough. He stood facing the
detail—ten of them, with rifles—and beyond them sat the landing probe, bristling
with weapons, some aimed this way; with other troops standing by the open hatch.
Silence persisted. Perhaps he was supposed now to ask news, to succumb to shock,
learning of murder, of the death of his family. He ached to know, and would not
ask. He made no move.
“Mr. Konstantin, your father is dead; your brother presumed dead; your mother
remains alive in a security-sealed area under protective custody. Captain Mazian
sends his regrets.”
Anger heated his face, rage at the tormenting. He had asked for self-control
from those who would go with him. He stood rock-still, waiting for the return of
Haynes and the others.
“Did you understand me, Mr. Konstantin?”
“My compliments,” he said, “to captain Mazian and to captain Porey.”
There was silence then. They waited. Eventually Haynes and the others came back,
carrying a great deal of equipment. “Bounder,” he said quietly, looking at the
hisa who stood near with his fellows. “Better you walk to the base if you come.
Men go on the ship, hear. Men-with-guns are there. Hisa can walk.”
“Go quick,” Bounder agreed.
“Come ahead, Mr. Konstantin.”
He walked forward, quietly, ahead of the others. The troops moved to one side,
to guard their progress with lowered rifles. And softly, at first, like a
breeze, a murmur, a chant rose from the multitude about the pillar.
It swelled until it shook the air. Emilio glanced back, fearful of the reaction
of the troops. They stood by, unmoving, rifles in hand. They could not but feel
suddenly very few, for all their armor and their weapons.
The chant kept up, a hysteria, an element in which they moved. Thousands of hisa
bodies swayed to that song, as they had swayed beneath the night sky.
He-come-again. He-come-again.
They heard it as they approached the ship, with the hold gaping open and more
troops to surround them. It was a sound to shake even the Upabove, when messages