Melinda took a deep breath. That was in fact exactly what she'd been planning to do when she came here today. But now, staring into that translucent alien face, the doubts were beginning to trickle back. She was willing enough to risk her own life on this; but could she unilaterally make that same decision for the others living here under the Zhirrzh threat? If Prr't-zevisti was lying—if his report back to the Zhirrzh commander led to the destruction of this refuge—then she would be directly responsible for the deaths of thousands of people.

But if he wasn't lying—if the war really was an accident of misunderstanding—then inaction on her part would mean condemning those same people to a war neither side really wanted. And not just the Peacekeepers and civilians here, but humans and nonhumans all across the Commonwealth.

And put in those terms, there was only one thing she could do. "Yes," she told Prr't-zevisti, ungluing herself from the door and crossing the room to the shelf where his fsss cutting lay in its box. For a moment she stared at it; then, taking another deep breath, she reached out—

And with a gentle creak the door behind her swung open.

She spun around, a surge of blood flooding into her face, her memory flashing back to the day when her mother had caught her stealing one of their dinner steaks to give to a stray dog. Holloway was standing in the doorway gazing at her, his expression unreadable. "Doctor Cavanagh," he nodded, stepping into the chamber and pulling the door half-closed. "I thought I might find you here. Though I could swear I'd told you to stay away."

"Yes, you did," Melinda said, an odd mixture of defiance and guilt twisting through her stomach. No matter what she believed the right course of action to be here, the fact was that she'd been caught in the act of betraying Holloway's trust. And that hurt.

"I see," Holloway said. "Under normal circumstances that would have earned you one hell of a lot of trouble. But we don't have time for that now. A Zhirrzh aircar has landed near Sentry Post Nine. They're asking for a healer to attend to a human prisoner they've just captured."

Melinda blinked. "A prisoner? From where?"

"From a spacecraft that landed southwest of here a few hours ago." Holloway's face tightened. "Which we were too damn slow off our butts to get to first."

"I'm sorry," was all Melinda could think of to say.

"You're going to be sorrier," Holloway said. "According to the Zhirrzh, the prisoner is your brother Pheylan."

Melinda felt her mouth drop open, a horrible lightness suddenly gripping her vision. "Pheylan?" she breathed. "But how—?"

"I don't know the hows or whys," Holloway said. "I only know that he has a broken leg, and that the Zhirrzh are offering to take one of our healers back to treat him."

With an effort Melinda broke the paralysis gripping her. "Of course," she said, starting toward the door. "I'll get my bag."

Holloway caught her arm as she started to pass him. "I want to make sure you understand this before you go, Doctor," he said. "If this was a purely humanitarian gesture, they could as easily have brought your brother here for treatment. The fact that they want you to go to them instead implies they're looking to pick up another hostage."

"I understand," Melinda said, trying to pull away from him.

He didn't let go. "I don't think you do," he said, his voice suddenly grim. "The fact that your brother made it here alive instead of being vaporized on the way down implies that their blockade may have suddenly developed a crack. Maybe more than a crack; maybe it's completely gone. Either way, it's time we gave it a little nudge."

Melinda stared at him. "Are you saying you're going to attack?"

Holloway's eyes flicked over her shoulder to where Prr't-zevisti was hovering, silently watching them. "I'm saying it's time to test their strength," he said. "Without going into details, it's suddenly become very urgent that we do whatever we can to get our civilians out of here. If the Zhirrzh have diverted their blockade ships to another theater of operations, now's the time for us to get a ship off and go for help."

"But you don't have to attack the ground base for that, do you?" Melinda asked.

Holloway's cheek twitched. "I wish we didn't. But we do. The ground base is undoubtedly acting as targeting spotter for the blockade forces, as well as being a threat to any incoming transports. It has to be neutralized."

"I see," Melinda said quietly. "Never mind that the war might be a mistake?"

"That's for the diplomats to work out," Holloway told her. "If we get off Dorcas, I'll be happy to tell them your theory. But until then I have a job to do."

"And anyone caught in the cross fire has to be considered expendable."

"Would you have me risk twenty-five thousand lives for your three?" he countered. "Or, rather, for their two? You don't have to go."

"Don't be ridiculous," Melinda bit out. "We're wasting time, and I still have to go get my bag."

Holloway let go of her arm and pushed open the door. "I've already had it sent for," he said. "It'll be waiting at Sentry Nine."

"Thank you." Melinda stepped past him into the doorway, then paused and turned around. "Farewell, Prr't-zevisti," she called, looking around for him. "I'll try to come back again soon."

But the pale form was nowhere to be seen, and her words brought no response. Turning back again, she left the chamber. Holloway sealed it behind them, then led the way across the cavern. "Can you at least tell me when you're going to attack?" Melinda asked as they ducked through the blackout curtain into the cool mountain air outside.

"You'll hear us coming," Holloway assured her. "You'd better not mention this to Janovetz or your brother, either. The Zhirrzh will undoubtedly be monitoring you, and I don't want them tipped off."

Holloway led the way around an outcropping of the cliff; and there it was, its milky-white hull gleaming brightly in the afternoon sunshine. A Zhirrzh aircar, surrounded by a semicircle of Peacekeepers, their Oberon assault guns leveled warningly. Standing a few meters in front of the aircar, under the wary eyes of more Peacekeepers, a single Zhirrzh was in the process of emptying the contents of his hip pouch onto the top of one of the rock-filled magnesium crates that had been set up to provide the sentries with some protection.

"Fuji's got your bag and some other supplies over there," Holloway said, nodding toward where Major Takara was standing watch over the whole operation. "Two of the tubes mixed in with the analgesics are phonies; you'll know them by the fake chemical names. They contain a low-yield binary explosive that you should be able to use to break out of whatever building they lock you into. Janovetz will know how to use them."

Melinda grimaced. "I understand. Any other surprises?"

"Yes." Holloway hesitated. "We've put in a vital-signs monitor for you. Among the usual electronics we've added a high-power white-noise radio transmitter."

Melinda stopped. "You've what?" she hissed. "Are you out of your mind? That's their idea of the ultimate weapon—what if they catch me with it?"

"They'll never know it's there," Holloway assured her. "The whole casing's metal—their Elders won't be able to even look inside."

"That's so very comforting," Melinda said icily, ashamed and enraged both by this betrayal. She'd given him all this Elderdeath information in good faith, assuming he would use it to help stop this war. Instead he'd taken Prr't-zevisti's gesture of trust and turned it back into a weapon. "Excuse me, please, my brother's waiting for me."

She pulled away from him, stalking off alone across the uneven ground toward the Zhirrzh aircar. Holloway made no move to follow, undoubtedly the smartest thing he could do. That stupid, rigid, military mind of his—