A Deepness in the Sky

Smith's head jerked angrily. "That's right. We've been outmaneuvered in the South. But we still have assets there, people who depended on me...people I have let down." That last was almost inaudible, and Hrunk doubted it was addressed to him. She was silent for a moment, then straightened. "You're something of an expert on the Southmost substructure, aren't you, Sergeant?"

"I designed it; supervised most of the construction." And that had been when the South and the Accord had been as friendly as different nation-states ever got.

The General edged back and forth on her perch. Her arms trembled. "Sergeant...even now, I can't stand the sight of you. I think you know that."

Hrunk lowered his head.I know. Oh, yes.

"But for simple things, I trust you. And, oh, by the Deep, just now I need you! An order would be meaningless...but will you help me with Southmost?" The words seemed to be wrung from her.

You have to ask?Hrunkner raised his hands. "Of course."

Evidently, the quick response had not been expected. Smith just gobbled for a second. "Do you understand? This will put you at risk, in personal service to me."

"Yes, yes. I have always wanted to help."I've always wanted to makethings right again.

The General stared at him a moment more. Then: "Thank you, Sergeant." She tapped something into her desk. "Tim Downing"—that young new aide?—"will get you the detailed analysis later. The short of it is, there's only one reason Pedure would be down there in Southmost: The issue there is not decided. She doesn't have all the key people entrapped. Some members of the Southland Parliament have requested I come down to talk."

"But...it should be the King that goes for something like this."

"Yes. It seems that a number of traditions are being broken in this new Dark."

"You can't go, ma'am." Somewhere in the back of his mind, something chuckled at the violation of noncom etiquette.

"You aren't the only person with that advice....The last thing Strut Greenval said to me, not two hundred yards from where we're sitting now, was something similar." She stopped, silent with memories. "Funny. Strut had so much figured out. He knew I'd end up on his perch. He knew there would be temptations to get into the field. Those first decades of the Bright, there were a dozen times when I know I could have fixed things—even saved lives—if I'd just go out and do what was necessary myself. But Greenval's advice was more like an order, and I followed it, and lived to fight another day." Abruptly she laughed, and her attention seemed to come back to the present. "And now I'm a rather old lady, hunkered down in a web of deceit. And it's finally time to break Strut's rule."

"Ma'am, General Greenval's advice is right as ever. Your place is here."

"I...let this mess happen. It was my decision, my necessary decision. But if I go to Southmost now, there's a chance I can save some lives."

"But if you fail, then you die and we certainly lose!"

"No. If I die things will be bloodier, but we'll still prevail." She snapped her desk displays closed. "We leave in three hours, from Courier Launch Four. Be there."

Hrunkner almost shrieked his frustration. "At least take special security. Young Victory and—"

"The Lighthill team?" A faint smile showed. "Their reputation has spread, has it?"

Hrunkner couldn't help smiling back. "Y-yes. No one knows quite what they're up to...but they seem to be as wacko as we ever were." There were stories. Some good, some bad, all wild.

"You don't really hate them, do you, Hrunk?" There was wonder in her voice. Smith went on. "They have other, more important things to do during the next seventy-five hours....Sherkaner and I created the present situation by conscious choice, over many years. We knew the risks. Now it's payoff time."

It was the first she had mentioned Sherkaner since he'd entered the room. The collaboration that had brought them so far had broken, and now the General had only herself.

The question was pointless, but he had to ask. "Have you talked to Sherk about this? What is he doing?"

Smith was silent, but her look was closed. Then, "The best he can, Sergeant. The best he can."

The night was clear even by the standards of Paradise. Obret Nethering walked carefully around the tower at the island's summit, checking the equipment for tonight's session. His heated leggings and jacket weren't especially bulky, but if his air warmer broke, or if the power cord that trailed behind him was severed...Well, it wasn't a lie when he told his assistants that they could freeze off an arm or a leg or a lung in a matter of minutes. It was five years into the Dark. He wondered if even in the Great War there had been people awake this late.