«I shall.» She rose on tip-toe to kiss him long and warmly, then vanished into the darkness.
They could have reached the Looter camp in less than twenty minutes by flying fast. But Blade did not want to fly quite that fast just a few feet above the plain on a pitch-black night. They had to fly low, to stay below the Looters' horizon for as long as possible.
Halfway there they landed and Silora crawled out onto the rear platform to arm the bomb. Blade was waiting until now for safety's sake. He was quite sure that Silora would not betray him and the people by setting off the bomb deliberately. But he was equally sure that she could make mistakes, and mistakes with atomic bombs can lead to rather impressive displays of fireworks. Blade wanted to be sure that any such fireworks were a good safe distance away from the people.
The clatter of tools and the scraping of metal sounded from outside for about ten minutes. Then a pale and perspiring Silora climbed back in, unreeling a long teksin cord. She handed the leather loop at the end of the cord to Blade, then closed the hatch, leaving only a two-inch opening. Blade carefully pulled on the cord to make sure it would slide freely back and forth through the opening.
Silora sighed with relief and sat down cross-legged on the cabin floor. «That's done, Mazda. Now all we can do is to hope everything works as we planned it to work and that the mercenaries have followed their usual camp plan.»
Blade nodded slowly. «If they don't-«It was time to face something he had not felt it necessary to mention until now. «Suppose we can only destroy the machines if we are willing to destroy your people, the Peace Lords, along with them? Will you stand by me even then, or would you rather be left here and picked up on my way back rather than see that?»
Silora was silent for a moment. «I will fly with you all the way, Mazda. That is as it must be. But if the bomb must fall on the Peace Lords as well as the mercenaries, then-«Her voice failed her for a moment. She swallowed and continued. «Then when it comes time to drop the bomb, I want to go out on the platform and jump with it. It is better that the Peace Lords die than that Tharn and its people die. But if the Peace Lords die, then I must die with them. That is also as it must be, for I could not live long in that case.»
Blade was silent for quite a long time. He hoped she wasn't expecting an answer to that, because he honestly couldn't think of one. Finally he turned back to the controls and lifted the machine into the sky again.
The armed bomb now rode securely in a complex and rugged cradle of leather strips and teksin rods. A quick tug on the cord running in through the hatch and the whole cradle would collapse, letting the bomb roll off the platform of its own weight and fall free. It was fused to explode when it hit the ground. That would not give absolutely the best results, but with an atomic bomb who needed absolutely the best? It would flatten everything; for a mile in every direction, which was more than good enough.
They slid onward through the darkness, listening to the signals of the Looters grow stronger and stronger. About twenty miles out they saw a dim glow on the horizon ahead. It grew steadily stronger as they steered straight for it. At ten miles both of them shouted out loud in delight, as the glow began to separate into three distinct parts, the center one fainter than the other two. At the same time it became possible to distinguish three distinct signals on the direction-finder, each coming from a slightly different location.
Silora's face was one enormous glowing smile that seemed to light up the whole cabin. «They are as usual, Mazda. The Principal Technician of War has not thought anything new was needed against this opponent.»
Blade did not smile. He merely nodded and said, «He will be a very surprised man before too long. Which one is the machine camp?» Within, he felt a great relief. He had not been looking forward to returning home without Silora, after watching her leap to a death he knew she welcomed.
«The farthest one is giving off the usual signal of the machine camp,» she said.
Blade swung the machine to the right and started it on a long curve around the triangle of Looter camps. The one with the machine was at the opposite point of the triangle. If they could skirt the whole patrolled area, they could come up on their target without any warning.
But whatever else he hadn't done, the Looter commander had extended his patrols farther than usual. Five minutes later the radio crackled into life with a loud, harsh voice that completely drowned out the directional signals.
«Unknown machine approaching Sector Seven of Patrol Zone, identify yourself immediately.»
Silora switched the radio to SEND and replied, «Machine 576 returning to operations in control of Peace Lord Second Class Silora Jou after escape from natives. Repeat, this is Peace Lord Second Class Silora Jou. I have escaped from the natives of this dimension. I have-«
«Understand, Peace Lord,» said the voice sharply. «Identification insufficient. You are ordered to ground your machine immediately and await inspection. Failure to do so will lead to your being fired on. Repeat, ground your-«
Silora switched the radio back to SEND and made a rude noise into the microphone. As she shut off the radio entirely, Blade was at work on the power and the controls. The machine shot forward as he fed in the power, accelerating rapidly. When it was moving as fast as he dared to go this close to the ground, he shouted at Silora:
«Hang on!»
He put the machine into a steep climb, opening the power even wider. The machine leaped upward, its speed mounting rapidly. On the screens the plain began to spread out below them, an endless velvety black rug with moving sparks of light on it that were the patrol machines.
Now came the most dangerous part of the whole mission. Instead of using stealth they would have to use speed, hurtling straight down the center of the triangle of Looter camps and dropping the bomb by sheer guesswork from a high altitude.
Blade fed in still more power. The shriek and howl of the air rushing past outside blasted in through the open hatch. It sounded like a hundred madmen all screaming in chorus. Silora put her hands over her ears and Blade would have done the same if he hadn't been too busy with the controls.
They must have been doing close to five hundred miles an hour. The circle of lights that was the camp of the machines was a good fifteen miles away, but it swept toward them with frightening speed. Blade kept the machine lined up precisely on the center of the circle. He wished he didn't have to fly a straight course, but there was no choice. Otherwise he might miss the target, even with the atomic bomb.
At least they would be hard to hit at this speed. Hitting them with a ray or a rocket now would be like hitting a flying mosquito with a pistol shot. It could be done, but it would take good luck as well as good shooting.
The target leaped toward them out of the night at the rate of more than a mile every ten seconds. Blade checked altitude, remembered wind conditions on the ground, did a quick set of mental calculations, wished for a pocket calculator, let alone a bombsight. Now the machine camp was about to pass below. Blade saw the perimeter lights reflected from scores of humped and curved and flat metal shapes in a dozen different sizes spread out in a circle a mile across. As the nearer edge of the circle passed across the center of the forward screen, Blade jerked on the leather loop at the end of the bomb-release cord.
He felt the machine give a little jump as it suddenly became half a ton lighter. A black finned cylinder swept across the rear screen, plunging downward, appearing on the down-looking screen. Blade didn't pay any attention to it. He nosed the machine over into a dive and pulled the hatch shut. The madmen's howling of air outside died to a distant mutter and moan as the machine plunged down through the miles of air, heading for the relative safety of low altitude.