The mountains ahead grew blacker and more foreboding, opening up into huge walls and jagged towers, with sheer faces plunging into daunting chasms. This was not dead terrain formed from sediment dropped by retreating floods, but violent, untamed storms of rock torn out of the living Earth. Far away to the left, huge palls of smoke unfolded and stood heaped up into the sky, reflecting red glows off their undersides. Heeland kept the craft as low as possible, following the gorges between shoulders and peaks now showing white at the summits and down the gullies. Even so, the airmobile was forced to climb into freezing air and mist. Keene’s feet were already numb. He tried to flex his fingers and arms continually, all the time striving to keep his grip through layers of metal foil and blanket wrapped around his hands. He could feel ice forming in his eyebrows and his beard. Heeland came through again to say he only wished he could be down there as well, and get involved directly himself. It was as if he had his own personal score to settle.
* * *
In the Command Module of the Trojan, Captain Walsh approached Valcroix and Grasse, who were conferring with General Nyrom and several aides. Valcroix turned from the group and nodded for him to go ahead. “We have a communication from Commander Reese of the Aztec,” Walsh advised.
“Well?”
Walsh raised his eyebrows in the manner of someone pleasantly surprised. “It seems that Ms. Delucey has made an impression on them. Reese agrees that there might be more common ground between us than he had appreciated. Others there feel the same way. They’re not committing to anything at this stage, but they agree that any basis for a better understanding should be explored. They’re willing to hear us out.”
Everyone looked pleased. “Easier than I expected,” someone murmured.
“Very encouraging,” Grasse said.
“When the lieutenant proposed it, I wrote it off as too much of a long shot,” Nyrom confessed. “But worth a try. It just shows, you never know.”
Valcroix treated them to one of his rare smiles—thin, but real nevertheless. “Presumably, Reese has realized that if there’s a choice, he will find life more amenable as a partner than as a captive,” he said to the company. Then, addressing Walsh, “Splendid news, Captain. We will treat this in a civilized manner, accordingly. Tell Reese that we will receive him and a selected deputation of their senior people here, aboard the Trojan. Make appropriate arrangements to host them. Cuisine in the Officers’ Dining Room would be suitable—but not VIP standard. Limit the number to ten and get a list of the names they intend sending, which I want to see before it’s confirmed. Does anyone have anything to add?” Nobody did. Since they were in the superior bargaining position and setting the terms, protocol required that the representatives from the Aztec come to them.
“I’ll get onto it right away,” Walsh said.
“One more thing,” Ludwig Grasse put in. Valcroix turned to him. “Zeigler has been holding out against difficult odds there on Earth. To boost his morale, I think we should let him know that interception of the Aztec has been accomplished successfully. I doubt if he’ll learn of it from elsewhere for some time.”
Trojan had maintained communications silence since its takeover en route for Jupiter. Kronia would have been informed of its appearance as soon as it was identified by Aztec, but there was nothing anybody could have done to prevent that. Even if those at Kronia had had their suspicions previously, there was no reason why they would communicate them to Earth, more so in view of the uncertain situation that they would have discerned there too. Now that they knew for sure of Trojan’s part in the scheme, they would be under no further delusions as to what had happened on Earth. Hence, they wouldn’t be sending news there of the success of the Trojan’s mission.
“A good point,” Valcroix agreed. “Yes, by all means, let’s keep Zeigler in the picture. I’m sure he could use all the good news he can get. Can you take care of that too, Captain Walsh?”