“Captain, go! Go now!” Hudro shouted.
His fear communicated itself. Powell opened the throttle, and the plane surged forward, even as the bomber began rolling onto the runway ahead. They squeezed through the gap accelerating flat-out. The runway seemed to flow by endlessly. Cade looked back and saw the beam of violet shift, as if registering. Nyarl seemed mesmerized by it. Finally, the plane lifted, banked, and turned away.
There was a lull, followed by several pulses of yellow light behind. A moment later, the desert lit up for miles around.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
IN THE RESEARCH CENTER at Cairns, Krossig still hadn’t recovered from the shock of learning that the Los Angeles mission, where he himself had been based until just recently, was no more. Orzin, Wyvex, Krossig’s Terran colleague and friend, Mike Blair . . . all of them gone. What was happening to this world that had once been so wondrous?
The situation seemed to be deteriorating by the hour. Chinese news sources were revealing only parts of the story that he was getting from Yassem in Los Angeles—and not always accurately, at that. Further, it was only now becoming clear how much of the Terran satellite network—especially that operated by American and European concerns—the Hyadeans, by offering better technology for lower cost, had quietly replaced or come to assume control of over the years. With the remainder suddenly being subjected to jamming and neutralization following the widening hostilities, communications throughout the AANS states were drastically restricted. That meant that the connection through the precarious, politically sensitive patchwork of cables and submarine links between Cairns and Los Angeles could be broken at any time.
He sat with Ominzek, the resident Hyadean communications technician, in the gravcom room next to Freem’s office in one of the timber-framed lab blocks, in front of several Terran conventional terminals and the array of gravitics gear. The center still had access to the official Chryse channel, although now subject to monitoring by the General Embassy in Xuchimbo. One of the Terran screens showed the room in Los Angeles, where Yassem reappeared intermittently to send further code patches or news input for the collection that Ominzek had ready, waiting to transmit. The Hyadean equipment showed readings from the outgoing beam control, probing regions of near-space to make contact with the Querl relays.
It was now night in Cairns. Communications with the LA mission had ceased abruptly in the early hours of the previous morning. Nobody at Cairns had been aware then of Orzin’s plan to initiate an independent, uncensored channel to Chryse. The first reports that the mission had been hit by missiles came second-hand from Federation news sources. It had seemed so incongruous and devoid of rational motive that Freem had been skeptical, advising the staff not to accepting anything as final until reliable confirmation was received. The confirmation had come with the direct communication from Yassem later. Yassem was also able to confide information somehow extracted from privileged Federation sources, which so far neither side was telling the world at large.
Networks worldwide were blaring hysterically about the nuclear exchanges in Central America, which couldn’t be concealed or played down. But Beijing was maintaining a blackout on the annihilation of the AANS fleet in the Pacific, and instead putting out strident appeals for solidarity and stressing the Federation’s opening air offensive in the south. The retaliation against Federation air bases, carried out with direct Hyadean intervention, had not been publicized by Washington, Sacramento, or Beijing. The last thing heard from Yassem was that Cade had left in haste with Nyarl, Hudro, Marie, and a Terran officer to get their aircraft away from a base that Cade feared might be a target for further such strikes.
Freem and Susan Gray, the Terran biologist, came back in. “Anything yet?” Freem inquired.
Ominzek looked over the displays showing tables of beam-setting parameters and trial transmissions, and a graphical summary of the results so far. “Still scanning coordinates and spectra. The night’s early yet.”
Farther along, Krossig was watching a devastated Terran township, buildings flattened and in flames, with rescuers digging bodies and injured survivors from the ruins. The background was lost in an eerie glow, clearly radiating intense heat. “What these it show now time?” Susan asked, staring. She was one of the Terrans who attempted to learn Hyadean. The results were sometimes amusing, but Krossig and the others respected her effort.