"Opposition?" exploded Ailin. "This is more than bloody opposition—those men are going to kill us!"

Arcturus laughed in Pasteur's face. "Kill us? Don't be foolish, Ailin."

"This isn't a fortress, Arcturus. That door isn't going to keep them out for long."

"They're not going to kill us, Ailin," repeated Arcturus.

"You sound very sure," snapped Pasteur.

"I am," replied Arcturus. "I may die one day, but it won't be today. Not at the hands of fools who can't accept they're beaten. Charles, what's the comm situation? I need reinforcements."

Charles Whittler, still holding Juliana Pasteur upright, had one hand pressed to his ear, in which was nestled the blinking light of a comm bead.

"All the local networks are jammed, sir," he said. "Our assailants appear to have cast an electromagnetic pulse net around us, and I do not believe any of the house comm units are strong enough to burn through it, at least not before we are dead. Also, I'm picking up hundreds of channels of white noise across a wide spectrum. Even if someone could pick up our broadcast, there's too much interference for anyone to understand the signal."

Arcturus nodded. "They're using a Cassandra scrambler. So we can't expect any local help, then, well, we're going to have to look elsewhere for aid."

"There is nowhere else," said Ailin Pasteur.

"There's always somewhere else you can turn," said Arcturus.

As his father spoke, Valerian pressed himself lo the outer wall and looked through the glass panel at the side of the door. Flying shrapnel had punched a neat hole in the glass and he saw the Confederate dropship hammer into the lawn, its skids gouging great chunks from the soft earth. Its assault ramp dropped and a host of armored marines emerged. They spread out and began moving cautiously toward the house in pairs.

"Incoming," he said, turning back to face his father. "Marines. At least thirty."

His father nodded and addressed Ailin Pasteur. "Do you have a refuge here? A safe room?"

"Yes, in the central service core."

"Get to it. Take Valerian, Juliana, and Charles and two of my soldiers," ordered Arcturus. "Lock yourselves in and wait for the cavalry. Understood? You three soldiers and Miyamoto, you're with me."

"Arcturus," cried Juliana. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get us some help," he said. "The only comm unit strong enough to penetrate a Cassandra screen is on the gun cutter. If we can get to it, I can call in Duke and his boys."

"I'm going with you," said Valerian. "I'm not running."

"No," said his father. "You're getting to safety."

"I'm going with you," repeated Valerian. "That's the end of it, no argument."

Arcturus looked set to dispute him, then saw his determination. Valerian felt his heart soar at the pride he saw in his father's eyes.

"The cutter went down the landing shaft, yes?" said Arcturus.

"Yeah," said Valerian, "its engine blew out and it fell in."

"Which means we can reach it from the house.”

"Arcturus, that's insane!" said Juliana. "Edmund Duke's ships are too far away to reach us in time and for all you know the cutter's comm unit is destroyed.”

"If I know Duke, he'll be halfway here already," said Arcturus. "Sorry, Ailin. You didn't really think I'd leave my ships that far out, did you?"

"Damn you, Arcturus," said Pasteur. "You go too far.”

Arcturus gave a hollow laugh. "If Duke gets here in time, you'll be glad I do."

Valerian straightened as his father turned and handed him a gauss rifle. “You ready?”

He racked the slide of the weapon. "I'm ready."

His father led the way and Valerian, Master Miyamoto, and the three marines dashed after him. The flaming wreckage of the crashed Wraith blocked their initial route through the house, but Valerian guided them around it to reach the concealed elevator in the main hall.

The power was out, so they took the stairs, clattering down flight after flight in their desperate hurry. Valerian heard gunfire from above and paused in his descent, torn between his desire to follow his father and his need to protect his mother.

He realized he hadn't even said good-bye, and took a step back up the stairs.

"Don't be foolish!" shouted Arcturus. "We can only help them by reaching the cutter."

Valerian hesitated, but he knew his father was right and headed down once more, taking the stairs two at a time. Eventually they reached the bottom and emerged into the system of corridors, maintenance caves, and stores of the landing facility.

Wretched smoke billowed and heaved throughout the underground complex, and sprays of water drizzled from the sprinklers set into the roof. Valerian coughed at the acrid stench of burning fuel, rubber, and plastic, pressing his hand over his mouth to avoid the worst of it.

He flinched at the sound of breaking glass and turned to see Master Miyamoto at an emergency fire point, hauling a trio of breathing apparatus facemasks from within. He handed one to Valerian and one to his father before fitting his own mask.

"Which way to the platform?" asked Arcturus, his voice echoing and artificial-sounding through the mask. "I don't remember the layout."

"That way," pointed Valerian, heading off down a side corridor, running bent over to keep out of the smoke. His eyes still stung from the fumes and his mouth tasted of tar, but he couldn't deny the exhilaration he felt going into battle alongside his father.

Valerian negotiated them through the network of tunnels until they arrived at the blast door that led out onto the platform. The neosteel door had been torn from its mounting by the enormous impact of the gun cutter's fall and lay buckled on the concrete floor.

They clambered over the shattered door and entered the cavern of the landing platform. The gun cutter lay canted at an angle, its fuselage torn open where it had been peeled back by the rock walls of the shaft. Smoke billowed upward from its remaining engine toward the bright oblong of daylight, and burning pools of fuel collected beneath the wrecked craft.

"We're going to have to be quick," said Arcturus.

"Damn right," agreed Valerian. "I don't want to get blown to bits by an exploding gun cutter, thank you very much."

"Yes, it wouldn't be a very epic way to meet your end, would it?" said his father. "Let's make sure we don't then, eh?"

With that, his father began clambering up the slope of twisted metal and debris toward the tear in the fuselage. As he reached the gaping wound in the side of the culler, he turned and called down to Valerian.

"Keep watch above us and back along the corridor. If our enemies pick up the signal from the cutter you can be sure we're going to have company..."

CHAPTER 19

VALERIAN FOUND COVER BEHIND A TWISTED SHEET of the gun cutter's fuselage, training his rifle down the length of the passageway they had come from. Master Miyamoto took up position across from Valerian, and his father's three marines found cover that would allow them to enfilade the enemy.

Eventually their attackers would realize that their target was not in the house. Once the enemy marines figured out where their quarry had gone and what they were doing, they'd throw everything they had at them.

Valerian and his soldiers had dragged piles of debris back toward the cutter to form rudimentary barricades and shared out what ammunition they had for the gauss rifles. The clock was ticking, but for what it was worth, they were ready.

Or at least as ready as five men could be to hold off thirty trained soldiers.

The heat in the cavern was stifling and sweat ran down Valerian's face inside his facemask. His breathing sounded incredibly loud and his peripheral vision was practically nonexistent. In frustration, he tore the mask off and dropped it next to him.