The Knights of the Black Earth (36 page)

The Little One
stared at him blankly.

Xris called a
halt. “Face it. This is hopeless. We could be here for the next twenty years
doing this.”

“Maybe I could rig
up some kind of computer mind-link,” Rowan suggested, thoughtful. “Empaths and
telepaths usually have extremely strong electronic impulses in their brains. It
might take days and it would be crude, at best, if it worked at all. I don’t
know. Dr. Quong, what do you think?”

“I think—”

A warning Klaxon
sounded, accompanied by a computerized voice. “Sensors have been tripped in
grid M-l. Repeat. Sensors have been tripped in grid M-1.”

Xris took the
twist from his mouth.

“Moose?” Harry
asked, and set down the beer.

“The sensors are
set to pick up only humanoid life-forms,” Xris said calmly. He opened his leg
compartment, took out his weapons hand.

The alarms
continued to sound.

Tycho woke up,
fumbled with his translator.

Jamil came running
down the stairs, clad only in his under-shorts. “What is it, Xris?”

“I don’t know yet,
but it should be on-screen. Go check it out.”

Jamil left,
heading for the security room.

“Sensors have been
tripped in grid K-1,” reported the voice. “Repeat. Sensors have been tripped in
grid K-1.”

“M-1. K-1.” Harry
went into Xris’s office, stood looking at a map of the property, tracking a
line with his finger. “They’re moving this way, and fast.”

Jamil’s voice came
over the comm. “The cam’s dead in grid M, Xris. It went black just when I got
in here. Switching to grid K. I have ... No. That cam just went dead.”

Xris performed a
systems check on his arm. He had attached the automatic flechette-round
shotgun. When you didn’t know what was coming, the shotgun was the best choice.

“Sensors tripped
in grid D-10,” reported the computer.

Everyone, with the
exception of the Little One, had gathered in Xris’s office, was huddled around
the map.

Tycho followed the
line. “On this route, they’re headed for the front door.”

“Probably a
diversion. The main force is likely coming at us from the back. Jamil, you see
anything?”

“Not a damn thing!
They must be crushing these cams with a TRUC!”

“Nothing more you
can learn there, obviously. Report back here. Tycho, head up to the tower.”

The alien nodded,
selected a beam rifle equipped with a sniper sight from the well-stocked
arsenal, headed for the tower.

“Sensors tripped
in B-7.”

Jamil returned,
carrying two more beam rifles, one of which he tossed to Quong.

Xris continued
giving orders. “Harry, cover the back door. Doc, the east wing.”

“Xris.” Rowan was
on her feet. “What can I do?”

“Go down the
basement,” Xris said.

“What?” Rowan
stared at him.

“Go down the
blasted basement!” Xris told her. “The door’s there, off the hall.”

Motioning to Jamil
to take a far window, the cyborg moved over to a window that provided a view of
the front door.

Rowan hadn’t
moved. She had a stubborn, determined look on her face that Xris knew all too
well.

He left his post.
Grabbing Rowan by the arm, the cyborg pushed her forcibly toward the basement
door. “The walls and door are reinforced nullgrav steel. They can withstand
about anything, including a direct hit from a lascannon.”

Xris opened the
door. Rowan halted, planting her feet firmly and refusing to budge.

“I’ll pick you up
and throw you down there if I have to,” the cyborg said grimly.

“You don’t trust
me. I swear to you, Xris—”

He cut her off. “You’re
right, old friend. I don’t trust you. But that’s not the reason. I need you
alive and well, Major Mohini. You’re the ticket out for my men. If anything
happens to me, you tell Dixter it was between us—you and I. My men were just
following orders. They had no idea what was coming down. You’ll tell Dixter
that.”

She stared at him
a moment, then said, “Sure, Xris.” She entered the door, stood on the top step.
“I’ll tell him.”

“Sensors tripped
in grid A-5,” said the computer.

Xris started to
leave, to shut the door. He paused, not looking at her. “You can’t ever go
back. You realize that. Your cover’s blown. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean
to—”

What
had
he
meant? Meant to murder her. He shook his head.

“It doesn’t
matter,” Rowan said, with a slight shrug. “It doesn’t matter at all. Take care
of yourself, Xris.”

“I’m not easy to
kill. As you know.”

He shut the door.

“Xris!” Jamil
shouted. “I can see movement.”

Tycho’s voice came
over the comm. “Xris. I’ve got them in my sights. I recognize one of them. It’s
...” He paused, then said, “You’re not going to believe this.”

Jamil lowered his
rifle, grinned. “Guess who?” Xris relaxed. “Not the Royal Marines.” Jamil shook
his head.

A thundering crash
nearly staved in the front door. “The neighbors, come to call.”

Xris hurried to
open the nullgrav steel door before it shattered.

That proverbial
saying, “Bad news travels fast and far.”

Plutarch,
Morals of Inquisitiveness

A giant of a man,
Olefsky not only had to duck to slide his head beneath the doorframe, he had to
rotate his enormous body, and then was forced to squeeze his way through the
door. When he succeeded, he shook himself in a manner similar to that of the
large shaggy hunting dog that trotted at his side. His two sons followed,
grinning sheepishly and bobbing their heads. “My friend! By my lungs and liver,
it is good to see you again!” Bear Olefsky enfolded Xris in an embrace that
completely engulfed the cyborg, squeezing the air from his body and setting off
an alarm on his breathing apparatus. Releasing Xris, the Bear regarded him
gravely.

“But not perhaps
under these circumstances. Have you been watching the galactic news?”

“No,” Xris
wheezed, making adjustments. “We’ve been preparing for an assault. We thought
you were the Marines. Why the devil did you take out our security cams?”

Olefsky, brow
furrowed, glowered around at his two boys. The Bear towered over Xris by about
a meter and the Bear’s sons— though only fourteen or fifteen—were taller and
broader than their father. Both young giants held their father in mortal dread,
however. At his glare, they turned extremely red and shuffled their big feet,
though it was obvious they had no idea what crime they had committed.

The Bear barked
questions at them in their own language. Both boys made feeble protests.
Olefsky listened in patience for a few moments, then ended the defense with a
motion of his big right hand. Following this, he cuffed each boy soundly and
ordered them out of the house. Hanging their heads, the boys tromped out, both
of them managing to knock over several small pieces of furniture on the way.
The dog, evidently thinking it was in trouble as well, cringed and licked the
Bear’s hand.

The Bear shook his
head, heaved a sigh that nearly blew the Little One—who had crept up to stare
at the dog—off his feet. “Ah, I must make certain that these boys of mine see
more of the universe. But with fifteen sons ...” He shook his head again. “I
apologize, friend Xris. These two lumbering dunderheads”—he jerked his thumb in
the direction of the porch, where the two boys waited—”found one cam and
thought it was the evil eye, planted on you by some sorcerer. They bashed it
with a rock. As for other cams ... You said there were others?”

Xris nodded.

The Bear tugged at
his long curly black beard. “I regret to say that they did not see any others.
Neither did I. Were they located on the ground?”

“Never mind, Bear,”
Xris said, putting a twist in his mouth to keep from smiling. “No harm done.”

Glancing outside,
he could see Olefsky’s boys picking bits of bark and twigs from their
animal-hide clothing. The Bear’s clothes were covered with leaves. A small
branch—caught in the fur of his cape—trailed behind him. Now that he looked,
Xris could detect shards of broken glass on the Bear’s leather boots.

Fairly certain
that they were no longer under attack, Xris called Harry and Quong back from
their posts, brought Tycho down from the tower. Jamil joined them, still in his
underwear. He glanced at Bear, saw the big man’s stern face and dark
expression, and sighed.

“Looks like we’re
going to be awake for a while. Anyone else want coffee?”

Rowan emerged from
the basement. Her eyes widened at the sight of their guest.

Xris performed
introductions, though, he noticed, these weren’t really necessary. Rowan
recognized Olefsky from the newsvids and it was obvious—from the sharp,
scrutinizing gaze Bear fixed on her—that though he may not have known her, he
knew something about her. Not a good sign.

“Send me a bill
for the cams,” Olefsky said, waving his hand. “What was I saying? Ah, yes. The—”

The Little One,
with a strange, inarticulate cry, suddenly hurled himself at Xris, flung his
arms around the cyborg’s legs.

“What the—” Xris
stared down.

Now that the
empath had Xris’s attention, the Little One let loose his hold. He ran across
the floor, raincoat flapping, and this time flung his arms around the dog’s
neck, nearly dragging the large animal to the floor.

The dog,
accustomed to a household that always seemed to possess at least one toddler,
took the mauling patiently, stood with its tongue hanging out, grinning.

“We’ll get you a
pet next week,” Xris said, his mind on the Bear. “Now, sir, you were saying—”

The Little One ran
back, caught hold of Xris’s pants leg, tugged on it, and pointed urgently to
the dog.

“I’ll be damned,”
said Rowan suddenly, and left them abruptly, heading for Xris’s office.

Something had
clicked. Xris knew that much from the intent, introspective expression on her
face. He watched her sit down in front of the computer, order it to come on,
bypass his security with absentminded ease. Asking her questions now would get
him exactly nowhere. She wouldn’t even hear him. She’d left this world as
completely as if she’d made her own personal jump into hyper-space. She was now
inside the machine.

The Little One
abandoned the dog, trundled into the office after Rowan. He stood at her elbow,
careful to make no sound, not disturbing her. Olefsky, obviously mystified,
ordered the dog out of the house.

Xris took out a
twist, lit it. “Sorry about the interruption, sir. He’s fond of animals. You
were saying?”

The Bear eyed Xris
narrowly and with a hint of coolness. “The galactic news. You are all over it,
my friend. What are you up to?”

Xris didn’t know
quite how to answer. Bear Olefsky dressed in animal skins; his shaggy hair and
beard were uncut, uncombed, unkempt. Skulls, scalps, and other less
recognizable, more repugnant trophies adorned the wide belt that encircled his
broad middle. He and his shieldwife lived in a castle with no central heating,
no running water. His people were fierce and warlike, spent their lives
cheerfully bashing each other over the head or banding together and flying off
to bash other tribes in their star system over their heads.

Olefsky was a
powerful force in the galaxy, however. His people adored him. And though he
preferred fighting with spear and shield, he commanded a fleet of starships
that he used in defense of his systems. He was a personal friend of the king
and queen and was exceptionally loyal.

“It’s a long
story, Bear,” Xris said finally, lamely.

“I think it must
be,” Olefsky rumbled.

Rolling casually
over the furniture, leaving a trail of destruction in his path, the Bear
approached the large-screen vid. One room in the Olefsky castle was filled with
high-tech electronic equipment, manned by two of Bear’s older (and more
educated) sons. The Bear himself had as little to do with such modern horrors
as he possibly could.

“How does it work?”
he demanded, reaching out a hairy hand.

“Allow me, sir,”
Quong offered hastily.

He brought up the
continuous news channel. Galactic reporter James M. Warden’s digitized,
chiseled features filled the screen. After sitting through several minutes of
news on the king and queen, news on the prime minster and the Parliament,
followed by vid idols and a feature on the latest fashions, which made everyone
present think of Raoul, the news report cycled back around to the lead-off
story.

“The Royal Navy
announced a surprise galaxy-wide ‘readiness’ test today. When asked by this
reporter what exactly this meant, a spokesman for the admiralty was extremely
vague, citing Naval security. She did add that all ships of the fleet were on
full alert and would be for the next seventy-two hours.”

Warden smiled. A
sardonic slant to his mouth and a quirk of the eyebrow let the viewer know that
“this reporter” didn’t believe a word. He leaned slightly forward, drawing the
viewer into his confidence. “This reporter has obtained exclusive information,
from a highly placed source in the Cabinet, that this alert is
not
a
test. The admiralty has assured us that no threat of danger exists to the
citizens of this galaxy, yet we remind you, viewers, that the Navy has never
before conducted such a ‘readiness’ test and one can only ask, why is such a
test being conducted now? We understand that members of the Parliament were not
informed, that they are demanding an explanation from the prime minister, and
that a protest has been lodged by the Loyal Opposition. We will keep you
apprised of this situation as it develops.

“In what may be a
related matter, a galaxy-wide manhunt is under way for this man”—a photo of
Xris flashed across the screen—”and other members of a commando team calling
themselves Mag Force 7.