“I know,” Letho said. He had slept very little the night before. He had cried through the night, with what seemed only momentary respites of sleep. In his dreams, Zedock had appeared to him, pleading him not to go forward with his mission. But there was no stopping now. The machine had been set in motion, and he would play his part.

“No pithy comeback? No insult regarding my tendency to speak ad nauseam?”

“Not today, Saladin.”

“Yes, sir,” Saladin replied. For once the sword fell blissfully silent.

Deacon clapped Letho on the shoulder, startling him. Letho raised his arm by instinct and almost made a fist-sized impression in Deacon’s face.

“Whoa, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” Deacon said, looking his friend up and down. He didn’t like the look that he saw in his friend’s eyes. Deep concern? Or was it fear?

“How do I look?” Letho asked. Tried to smile. Couldn’t quite do it.

“You look like a double-stuffed turd sandwich,” Deacon said. “Rough night?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe he’s gone, Deacon. When we got here, it was so wonderful to find out that he was alive. I—” Letho stammered, “I just wasn’t ready to lose him again.”

Letho felt tears coming on. Held them back. A few got by anyway, and Deacon shed a few sympathetic tears himself.

“He was a great man. The best,” Deacon said, sniffling. “But are you gonna be okay? I mean, with everything that’s happened, I’m worried about you, man.”

“I’m fine. Operating at one hundred and one percent efficiency,” Letho said, trying to smile again, and failing. “I’m a little scared, but I bet everyone is.”

“Come on, you’re Letho Ferron. The Letho Ferron. The bad guys probably have nightmares about you.”

“Good one,” Letho said.

“Hey, I’ll be here all week. Don’t forget to tip your waitresses,” Deacon said, and then his face grew solemn. “Listen, if I don’t see you…”

“Deacon, don’t do that. Just keep your head screwed on right, and don’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to prove yourself to me or anyone else.”

“No sweat, buddy, and you watch your back as well. We’ll see each other again.”

“Yeah, but we might be dressed in white robes and playing harps,” Letho said. He tried to chuckle, but it came out hollow, the coughing of a sputtering engine.

The two men encircled one another in a firm, momentary embrace, clapping each other on the back. It was the ageless embrace of comrades-in-arms, affirming a bond that went deeper than bone.

Saul cleared his throat, and the two broke the embrace. Saul raised his left eyebrow in a sardonic curve. “I wonder about you two, sometimes,” he said as he loaded an enormous box of ordnance into the back of the razorback.

“Just a brotherly hug is all. What, are you some kind of religious zealot or something?” Deacon said, shifting from one foot to another, hands on his hips.

“Yeah, yeah. Hey man, good luck out there. Don’t wreck our ship. And don’t cause the others to wreck their ships. They aren’t making too many of those anymore.”

“Don’t worry. I’m pretty much the best pilot on the planet,” Deacon replied, with perfect sincerity.

“Well, that ain’t saying much. Half the planet is full of brain-dead muties.”

“I’ll do what I can to get her back in one piece,” Deacon said, extending his arm to Saul.

“Seriously, brother. Be careful out there,” Saul replied, clutching Deacon’s forearm. The two men locked eyes for a moment, and then Saul nodded and released Deacon’s forearm.

Johnny Zip arrived just after Saul, and began to load a couple more crates of ordnance into the razorback. The men exchanged handshakes and idle talk, no one moving too fast to complete their pre-launch checklists. There was an air of finality settling over the day. No one wanted to face it head on, yet the inevitable conflict was pulling them forward no matter how slowly they carried their crates.

“Saul, did you get the right crates? The ones I set aside special?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, I got ’em. Quit your worrying,” Saul spat.

“Easy there, boss. I ain’t ridin’ your ass for no reason. Just want to make sure we have exactly what we need. Shit’s gonna get hairy today, and I don’t want to be reachin’ for a fresh mag that ain’t there.”

Saul threw his hands up in the air, smiling, waving off Johnny’s response.

“We ready to go, boys?” Letho asked.

“Razorback is loaded, everyone’s here,” Saul said, casting a firm gaze at Letho. “I’ll take it from here if you don’t mind.”

“No problem. Take it away, fearless leader,” Letho said with a mock salute.

What’s his problem? He’s too jittery. Maybe upset about Zedock?

Just then Maka tackled Letho from behind, lifting him off his feet and pinning his arms to his sides with his massive arms.

“Put me down, you big lug!” Letho shouted. He could have freed himself, but he allowed Maka to hold him for a bit longer. At last the Tarsi put him down and Letho turned to face him.

“You be careful out there, Maka. Don’t be a hero. Come back alive. You, Bayorn, and I will have many stories to tell to the Tarsi when this is over.”

“Indeed,” Maka replied. “Be careful yourself, Letho. Today we fight in Zedock’s good name.”

“You’re damn right,” Letho said.

By this time, all those willing and capable of fighting had gathered, and all of the land and air vehicles, the few that they had, were lined up, ready to go. Saul hopped on top of his razorback and shouted to address the gathering of Eursans and Tarsi.

“All right folks, listen up,” he began. “We’ve been waiting for this for a long time, and I know y’all are probably feeling real uncertain about what’s gonna happen. That’s okay. Just remember that we each have a job to do. I want you to think about all the innocent folks in Haven. Everything you do today, every choice you make, must be to accomplish one goal: ensuring those folks’ continued safety. Today we fight so that they can live without the constant fear that Abraxas is gonna come knockin’ down their door. Keep your head on a swivel, watch your buddy’s back, and we’ll get through this. Y’all hear me?”

A raucous chorus of shouting and fist-pumping permeated the air in the tin-can tunnel as people began to disperse, boarding ships and climbing inside armored trucks.

Letho and his crew took their places in the razorback. Gear was checked one last time; rounds were slammed into chambers with thick, satisfying metal-on-metal clacks. Letho placed his hand on the butt of his .50 caliber and closed his eyes for a moment. He thought about the citizens of his Fulcrum station, of his father. He thought of the innocent folks who had died in Alastor’s ship. His blood boiled, and adrenaline surged through his veins like molten steel. He felt like he could move the earth itself with his bare hands.

A cool hand enclosed his; a vision of Thresha had joined him in the razorback. She had connected to his mind again, across the vast space between them.

“Be careful, Letho.”

“I will. I love you,” he said.

She did not reply in kind.

“Please, I need to hear you say it,” he said.

“I—” she stammered, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I love you too, Letho,” Johnny said, laughing.

Letho opened his eyes, suddenly all too aware of his surroundings. Johnny was looking at him as if he had lobsters coming out of his ears.

“Who are you talking to, anyways?” Johnny asked.

“Never mind, “ Letho replied, his face flushing.

The razorback rumbled to life, and Saul floored the gas pedal. The tires spun, struggling for purchase on the dust-caked steel floor of the tunnel. And then they sped off toward an unknown fate, the razorback’s halogens struggling to keep the shadows at bay.

****

Adum tapped the ring of ash off the end of his cigarillo. He enjoyed one last deep drag, feeling the oily smoke fill him with a brief respite from the drudgery of old Hastrom City. The inner workings of his mind were not elegant enough to put such a feeling into words, but he knew it when he felt it: when he stepped off the assembly line after a grueling day of work; when he lay with his wife; when his eleven-year-old son was able to scratch his first and last initial into the dirt floor of their hovel on the outskirts of town.