Nmura shrugged. "We have only your word for that."

"True. On the other hand, without secure communications, no authorization I could produce would be above suspicion."

"I know," Nmura nodded. "Understand—I'm not just being stubborn. You're asking us to put our lives and the safety of our families on the line, and I can't order that without something besides your unsupported word. For all we know, this could be some crazy entrapment scheme."

"Too subtle for collies," Kwon muttered near Caine's ear. Mordecai, on Caine's other side, grunted agreement.

"Besides which," Nmura continued, glancing back at Tremayne, "I get the impression Radix hasn't quite accepted you, either."

Lathe started to speak, but Tremayne unexpectedly cut in. "Not true, Commander," he said. "Our activity has been minimized at Comsquare Lathe's own request, for valid reasons. But their operation has always had our full support."

Caine looked at the other in surprise; but the sincerity in the Radix leader's voice was fully matched in his face. With an effort Caine kept his own expression neutral, wondering what Tremayne was up to.

Nmura seemed to have doubts, too. Once more he glanced between Lathe and Tremayne before addressing the latter. "Are you saying you've accepted Comsquare Lathe's credentials?"

"His best credentials are that he's a blackcollar comsquare. We accept him on that basis."

"I see," Nmura said slowly. He hesitated, and Caine had the sudden impression of a man trying to find wind direction on a calm day. "The main risks are still there, of course."

A few meters away a hand rose over the crowd. "Garth, can I say something?"

Nmura craned his neck to identify the speaker. "Sure, Rayd, go ahead."

"Well, it seems to me we've been sitting on our duffs long enough," Rayd said. His voice was strong and confident, that of a man used to casual leadership. "We've got a damn good chance here to really hit the Ryqril—and anybody who doesn't believe that should try to remember when blackcollars ever risked their necks on something hopeless." A murmur of approval was beginning to rise all around them, and Rayd raised his voice to compensate. "And I think we ought to remember how many times Radix has stuck their necks out to keep us in Idunine. Let's not give people the impression that the Star Force takes a free ride from anyone!"

The calm day was gone, and it was clear which way the wind was blowing. Raising his hand to silence the growing swell, Nmura nodded to Lathe. "It sounds like we have a consensus," he said dryly. "All right; you've got yourself a crew. When do we move?"

"Two or three days," Lathe said. "We'll need to get transport off-planet, and you need to organize into crews and start working out the necessary start-up procedures." He looked at Tremayne. "Can Radix put all these men up here for that long?"

"We'll manage. Jer?" Tremayne located Jeremiah Dan and gestured toward Nmura. "Jer, see the commander about billeting for his men. Lathe, we'll need to talk about the next step."

The meeting was clearly over, and as pockets of conversation began to form around the room, Caine felt Kwon touch his arm. "Let's head back upstairs," the massive blackcollar said. "Lathe can handle things here."

Caine nodded absently, his thoughts elsewhere. From the hostility of a day or two ago Tremayne had become a model of cooperation with surprising speed. Suspicious speed, perhaps. At best it was politics, an effort to appear united in front of the vets. At worst... Lathe's earlier prediction about the government's reaction lurked at the base of his mind. It was an unfair thought, he knew—Tremayne had probably done his about-face simply because he now understood the mission's importance.

But if Lathe was right, someone else in Radix also understood things now... and if the government chose to go for a draw instead of a win, Mordecai and Kwon were going to start earning their keep the hard way. Shivering slightly, he increased his pace.

CHAPTER 26

"Incredible," Colonel Eakins murmured, staring into his mug and shaking his head slowly. "Sitting out there right under our noses. Do you suppose they're still operational?"

"Probably." Galway felt cold inside; his own mug sat ignored on the desk in front of him. You'll find out some day, Lathe had said to him at the Plinry 'port, and from that he'd assumed the blackcollars were on the trail of something big. But not something like this. "With all their systems off or on low/standby, all that could go wrong would be fuel or air leakage or slow interior corrosion—and that last will be negligible if they were left unpressurized."

"You seem to know a lot about the subject," Apostoleris commented as he hung up the phone he'd been talking on.

"My father was in the Star Force," Galway explained briefly. "Jensen still holding out?"

Apostoleris nodded. "We'll break him, though."

"Why bother? Your spies have already given you everything he's likely to know. Why not just kill him and get it over with?"

"Dead bait doesn't attract any fish," the other countered. "Or are you forgetting Skyler and Novak?"

"They wouldn't know he was dead until it was too late."

Eakins looked up from his mug. "You keep implying they might actually get that far," he said, sounding a little annoyed. "This is not like Cerbe, Galway—we're on top of them this time."

Tired, Galway rubbed his forehead. "I know. I just don't want to underestimate them again."

"We won't." Apostoleris was grimly confident. "You're right about Jensen—I don't think he knows anything useful. But Skyler and Novak have been with Lathe this whole time; they're bound to know more about his plans."

"Your spies in Radix have a better chance of getting that information," Galway insisted.

Apostoleris snorted and shook his head in disgust. "You just don't have the stomach for this, do you?" he said bluntly. "Maybe that's why they got away with all their crap on Plinry. Hey?"

Galway didn't answer. Belatedly, he realized that Apostoleris was taking the blackcollars' operation on an intensely personal level, almost as if he were engaged in a private duel with Lathe. It was a dangerous trap to fall into—the Security prefect could easily lose sight of the war even as he concentrated on winning minor skirmishes. In many ways Apostoleris was behaving like an amateur chess player, equating board strength with number of pieces taken.

Sighing, Galway looked down at his watch. Forty minutes to sunset, the earliest Skyler was likely to move. The blackcollars had their explosives and false IDs, and latest reports indicated Apostoleris's three-level trap was ready. It would work... and would surely cost a great deal of human life. Perhaps Apostoleris was right, he thought; perhaps he didn't have the stomach for unnecessary death. But then, life on Plinry forced a somewhat more frugal view of one's resources.

Shifting in his chair, Galway picked up his mug and sipped at the cooling drink. Thirty-eight minutes to sunset.