“No, get some rest. We’ll be in touch.”
“Then . . . good luck. You take care, Roland. Of yourself and those others. Bring them all back in one piece.”
“You too. ‘Bye.”
As Cade repocketed his phone, he realized that Gerofsky had joined him and had been listening. For a moment, the major seemed to have difficulty finding words. “Look, Cade . . . You were right, and we were wrong. I’d like to do more to help. Chester has to stay here as the contact man with Sacramento. But you don’t know what you’ll run into out there. You’re going to need someone along who can deal with military people and situations. . . . Well, what I’m saying is . . .”
Cade managed a tired grin. “It’s okay. You don’t have to spell it out. And the answer’s `sure.’ Welcome to the team.”
* * *
It was a little after 4:15 A.M. when the flyer finally rose from the city and headed east of north for Palmdale. The night was clear with no moon. From above Pasadena, trains of lights showed on the darkened roads below, all heading northward to the desert. En route, Nyarl checked with the Catacombs. Yassem reported that the link from Cairns was sending, but so far there had been no response from the Querl. President Jeye wasn’t backing down. The Federation had just launched IRBMs at Union air bases in Alabama and Ohio. Nobody aboard the flyer had much else to say.
Radio traffic indicated that flight operations were busy at Edwards. Ignoring ground control procedures, Hudro brought the flyer skimming in low over the perimeter fence to land at the hangars at the north end where the C22-E was waiting. The transfer of bodies, equipment, and bags still in the flyer from Cade’s house that morning took place swiftly against a background of engine roars and black shapes lifting off into the night. The captain, Bob Powell, told them that operational aircraft were being dispersed to other fields and landing strips, with supply transports loading to follow later. He obviously didn’t know about recent events and assumed it was a standard precaution. While they were stowing gear, Powell introduced Cade, Marie, and Gerofsky to his copilot, Lieutenant Koyne, and Technical Sergeant Davis, an aircraft engines and systems specialist. Nyarl and Hudro had met them previously.
“C22 Six Five Zero to Edwards control, we’re ready to move out now and request immediate clearance,” Powell said into his mike. As they ran up the engines, Koyne spotted lights approaching along the perimeter road and pointed. “Probably someone coming to check what came in over the fence,” Powell grunted.
“We don’t want to get bogged down now. Just pretend we haven’t seen them,” Cade said from behind.
Powell’s face creased in the glow from the instrument panel. “Ground Control is gonna be sticky with all this traffic going out. I wouldn’t want to upset them right now.” He listened to something for a few seconds, then spoke into the mike again. “When? . . . We didn’t see anything. . . . No, nothing to do with us. . . . Roger.”
Meanwhile Nyarl, using headphones, was keeping contact with the Catacombs. He interrupted suddenly, “I’m talking to Chester. What’s Travis?”
“I read you,” Powell sang in the captain’s seat. “Moving out now. How long is this queue gonna last?”
Koyne answered Nyarl, “Big air base up near San Francisco. Main transportation center for Pacific supply routes. Why?”
“It just got taken out.”
“Never mind the queue! Get us out of here!” Cade snapped at Powell.
“You’re talking court-martial offense here.”
“Right now, that’s the least of your worries.”
“You’d better be sure about this.” Powell sucked in a long breath, gunned the engines, and jerked the control column to take the plane around the shapes outlined ahead in the starlight, and across a connecting ramp to a shorter, auxiliary runway. Even from where he was sitting, Cade could hear indignant squawking in Powell’s phones. Ahead, what looked like a bomber was turning to join the line lumbering toward the run-up point on the main runway. Another was waiting to mover forward. At the end of the base, several miles away in the other direction, a slim finger of peculiar violet radiance appeared suddenly, seemingly coming down from among the stars. Nyarl stared at it, speechless with sudden terror.