The thing that impressed itself on him the most was how utterly unknowing and uncomprehending these gods were, despite all their powers and machines, of even the rudiments of the reality he had lived every day for as long as he could remember. Their smooth hands and soft faces told him that they had never clawed for roots in the mud or under rocks, been swept down a mountainside in a torrent of hot ashes, or fought, crazed by hunger, over a worm-filled bird carcase. He ruled because in his world, his way was the only way. The ways of these gods were of no use to his clan. They would quickly be exterminated if they tried to live by them. Was there no other way to command the gods’ powers? . . .
Suddenly the gods were no longer paying attention to him and the other two, but talking rapidly among themselves, sounding alarmed. He had never seen that before. Voices were babbling from “compads” and other places on all sides. Keene shouted something at some people across the room. One called back something that sounded like, “Over in OpCom, right now!”
Rakki turned to Naarmegen. “What is this?” But Naarmegen was yelling at someone else and pointing at a screen on the wall.
“What?” Rakki demanded again, wheeling upon White Head.
“I’m not sure. . . . Some people have taken over their ship, up beyond the sky.”
“What is ship?”
And then a picture appeared on the screen that Naarmegen had been waving at. After a moment, Rakki recognized it as the inside of the building they had been taken to first, the one with many boxes and screens, and windows on all sides. But instead of sitting or standing casually as they had been when he last saw them, the people there were back against the walls, looking tensely at a smaller group occupying the center. One of them was saying something. Rakki couldn’t follow the words, but he recognized the figure as the Sky Being Zeigler, who had been at Joburg. Zeigler seemed to be in command, even though the silver-haired one was present who Rakki had been told had the greatest rank. He glanced aside and saw that Keene and Sariena were both staring at the screen in dismay. Something was happening that they hadn’t been expecting.
He looked back again. And suddenly a thrill raced through him.
Zeigler and his followers were carrying guns! They were asserting dominance and taking command. This was a language that Rakki understood. He didn’t need to hear the words.
Here, perhaps, was a true warrior that Rakki could follow and learn from.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Armed Zeigler supporters had cordoned off the entrances to the Operations and Communications Dome when Keene approached with Sariena and a string of others from the dorm blocks. They had left Rakki and the other two with Naarmegen and some help to keep an eye on them. The subversives were wearing red armbands emblazoned with the Pragmatist triangle-and-lightning-flash emblem. Most of them, but not all, were SA.
People were converging on OpCom from all parts of the base and being held back, arguing and protesting. Some of them had been inside when Keene was there, and presumably been evicted. As Keene and Sariena pressed forward through the throng, a group of exasperated Kronians surged toward the guards, only to fall back uncertainly when they found themselves facing suddenly leveled weapons. The SA lieutenant commanding the guard detail was Jorff, who had driven out with Keene and the others to make the first contact with the Tribe at Joburg.
“You too?” Keene said grimly as they drew up.
Jorff met his gaze stonily and made the slightest of shrugs. “We’re taking our world back. Our world.”
“And is this how you want to rebuild it?” Sariena challenged. “Starting out the same way, all over again?”
“It’s the only way.”
A girl in a red armband, standing back nearer the door, had read the name tags on Keene’s and Sariena’s jackets and was consulting via a compad with someone inside the building. “They can go up,” she announced. Jorff stood aside and waved to the others to let them through. Keene was too angry to make any further remark. He shouldered his way past, making sure Sariena was close behind. In the lower level of the dome, a guard watched as a medic attended to a couple of bloodied figures who looked as if they had been clubbed. This wasn’t real, Keene told himself.