"Then," concluded Yuan, "they've closed every exit. Most of their own forces are trapped down there, too—but then they signed on for suicide. My people didn't." His fingers began to fumble at the box, raising the lid. "What time is it?" Laneff told him, and he said, "That's twice the time it takes to evacuate the whole installation. Still—"

A roar cut him off, and he demanded, "What's happening?"

One of the gypsy Simes called down from the ridge, "They're landing planes. One just—" A fulsome explosion wiped out the words, and then the Sime finished, "landed in a bomb crater. Two more made it down—three—four. I think that's all—but they're fielding squads of men now." He turned toward them. "It can't be much longer until the Tecton shows up in force. We're not that far from a major city!"

"I've got to get up there!" said Yuan, struggling to move. But Shanlun held him down. "Azevedo is working on you. You'll bleed to death; besides, you're too weak."

Yuan subsided, but he called, "Tell me when the last of those men is offloaded. Are any headed this way?"

"Not yet," answered the lookout.

Jarmi, Laneff noticed, was clinging to Laneff’s side. She put an arm around the Gen woman, knowing that the box Yuan carried must be the trigger for the hidden destruct charges. And some of the trapped must be Jarmi's friends.

Hidden as Yuan was in the cocoon of Azevedo's field, Laneff couldn't zlin him. But in the growing light, his face showed just what she imagined he must feel.

The lookout called softly, "That's it. They're fanning out—searching I guess for survivors."

With the planes down and the explosions stopped, there was a huge ringing silence. Then the crack of a rifle. The other gypsy Sime joined the lookout, calling incredulously, "They're murdering the survivors!"

"Yes," said Yuan, "their own as well as ours! The filthy lorshes!" There were tears dripping unheeded from the corners of his eyes. A horrible grimace distorted his features, much like that of a Sime in killmode, and with a lurid curse, he rammed his finger home on the button set into the open box he held.

Azevedo flinched, his hands nearly coming up to protect his face before he recovered himself. Shanlun scrambled to his side, displacing Desha roughly, shrouding Azevedo in a brilliant shell of bright fluorescent confetti.

A distant rumbling waxed to a ground-rippling shudder. All eyes flicked about the crater looking for safety and finding none. The roar gathered and the ground heaved, then settled with a long, grinding noise.

Gen deathflash was lacing the nager like lightning, and every Sime sought the nearest Gen. Laneff clutched her throat to throttle her own scream and held on to Jarmi, hardly able to zlin the Gen's field even at contact for the blasting overload all about them.

Jarmi whimpered, unable to breathe in Laneff’s grip. In the abrupt silence, nerves battered to insensibility, Laneff heard Jarmi's plea, and her heart melted. "I'm sorry! Oh, please, Jarmi, forgive me!" At that moment, this Gen was the most precious thing in the universe.

Catching her breath, Jarmi replied, "It's nothing. I just hope you'll learn your own strength someday!"

Meanwhile, Desha and the other gypsy Gen had joined the two Simes on the ridge. As her senses cleared, Laneff climbed the slope, Jarmi right after her.

The dawn light showed churned and puckered fields where neat, knee-high rows of crops had been. The vineyard was flattened. There was no sign of the farmhouse. Tangles of wreckage smoldered. In the distance, an irrigation pipe had broken and was spewing water into the air, spread by the light breeze into a mist. Nagerically, the entire field of pulverized and cratered mud was dead. But as they watched, the first rays of the sun struck through a slit in the clouds, and a rainbow arced over the grisly destruction.

Tears blurring her vision, Laneff turned to those below, but they required no report. Azevedo gripped Shanlun's shoulders once, hard, and then raised his face to the sky. The two rose and faced the rising sun.

As if by some unspoken signal, the four gypsies around Laneff and Jarmi also rose, facing east. The silence of the dead fields seemed to be dispelled by an even larger silence—the silence of living Sime and Gen nager, pulsing with life in clear concert.

It was only an instant, but the gypsies held them all breathless. Afterward, Laneff felt normality return, but now the horror was dispelled. Laneff went back down to Shanlun and Azevedo. Yuan had lapsed into unconsciousness. The others gathered around.

To Shanlun, Laneff whispered, "You call that prayer?"

"No," he answered. "Just a salutation."

Azevedo said, "We must move swiftly now. We'll require a litter for Yuan."

One of the Distect Simes said, "We can't afford to drag these three along, too."

Azevedo walked over to the prisoners, zlinning, then took one of the dart rifles and without preamble shot each of the Gens in the thigh. They each recoiled in anticipation of horror, but that faded as the drug put them to sleep.

Desha said something, objecting in the gypsy dialect. Shanlun answered, and one of the other gypsy Simes argued. While they spoke, Laneff heard the Distect Simes remark on how the gypsies will argue until doom strikes. They made shift to construct a litter out of the splintered wood about them and jackets they took from the three Gens.

The slit in the clouds had closed, darkening the day ominously. A damp, cold wind skirled about them. Laneff cut into the gypsy discussion. "It isn't so important where we go as that we get out of here– now."

Shanlun looked at her, surprised, and she decided they had indeed been discussing destination. Azevedo replied, "We're in Gen Territory here. It's imperative that we cross over before nightfall—sooner if possible."

Desha again objected in the gypsy language, though Laneff had once heard her speak perfectly intelligible Simelan. Azevedo answered, "We can if we must. We'll discuss it later." He went to talk to the Distect Simes who were securing Yuan to the litter.

"We'll head north," announced Azevedo.

"We don't accept a channel's leadership just because he's a channel," answered one of the Simes.

"There are six of us and four of you," said Azevedo, counting Jarmi as Distect. "We know this country. You're welcome to join us if you like."

There was a bristling moment, and Jarmi said, "I think Yuan would go north with Azevedo. Shall we wake him and ask?"

The Simes zlinned their burden. "No," one said. "Let's move."

They helped one another up the path they'd cut into the rubble on one side of the crater, and when they got to the churned ground, they circled to stay on the matting of branches until they reached a stream that was now cutting a new bed. They tromped along the watercourse until they came to the spot where it joined the old bed and continued on the rocky wet pathway.

It was hard going. The air was chill enough to bother the Gens, so the Simes shivered, too. Before they'd reached the cover of a tract of woods, Laneff called out a warning. Moments later, Tecton reconnaissance planes zoomed out of the rising sun and circled the battlefield.

"Run!" called one of the Distect Simes.

But Azevedo overrode that, "Circle!" he commanded.

Immediately, the four other gypsies formed a circle with the channel, leaving the two Simes carrying Yuan balanced on their toes, ready to dash for the woods.

Azevedo motioned the Distect Simes to put Yuan in the center of the circle. "To move now is to attract attention. We must disappear into the landscape like a frightened rabbit."

The planes would carry Third Order channels as spotters. The sparse woods would not hide them then, nor would simple stillness. Jarmi complained, "This makes no sense."