A Deepness in the Sky

Smith stepped back until she was even with him. "Come with me, Sergeant. I saw someone I've been wanting to talk to for a long time." There would be a vote called later in the day. Before that there could well be follow-up questions for the General. There was plenty of time for political maneuver. He and Downing followed the General to the far end of the proscenium, blocking the exit. A scruffy cobber in extravagant leggings was coming toward them. Pedure. The years had not been kind to her—or maybe the stories about the attempted assassinations were true. She made to sidle around Victory Smith, but the General stepped into her path.

Smith smiled at her. "Hello, Cobblie Killer. So nice to meet you in person."

The other hissed. "Yes. And if you don't move from my path, I will be very pleased to kill you." The words were heavily accented, but the tiny knife on her hand was clear enough.

Smith stretched her arms sideways, an extravagant shrug that would catch notice all across the hall. "In front of all these people, Honored Pedure? I don't think so. You're—"

Smith hesitated, raised a pair of hands to her head, and seemed to listen. To her telephone?

Pedure just stared, her entire aspect full of suspicion. Pedure was a small female with galled chitin, and gestures that were just a bit too quick. A totally untrustworthy picture. She must be so used to killing from afar that personal charm and facility with language were long-discarded talents. She was out of her element here, managing things directly. It made Unnerby just a shade more confident.

Something buzzed in Pedure's jacket. Her little knife disappeared and she grabbed her phone. For a moment, the two spy chiefs looked like old friends, communing with their memories.

"No!"Pedure spasmed; her voice was a scream. She grabbed the phone with her eating hands, all but stuffed it into her maw. "Not here! Not now!" The fact that they were a sudden spectacle did not seem to matter to her.

General Smith turned toward Unnerby. "Everyone's schemes just went down the toilet, Sergeant. Three ice-launched missiles are coming our way. We've got about seven minutes." For an instant, Unnerby's gaze caught on the dome above them. It was a thousand feet underground, proof against tactical fission bombs. But he knew the Kindred fleet had progressed to much bigger things. A triple launch would most likely be a deep-penetration strike. Even so...I helped design this place.There were stairs nearby, access to much deeper places. He reached for one of Smith's arms. "Please, General. Follow me." They started back across the proscenium.

Villains and good guys, Unnerby had seen courage and cowardice among them all. Pedure...well, Honored Pedure was almost twitching with panic. She twisted this way and that in little hops, screaming Tiefic into her telephone. Abruptly she stopped and turned back to Smith. Terror warred with incredulous surprise. "The missiles. They'reyours ! You—" With a shriek, she launched herself toward Smith's back, her knife a silver extension of her longest arm.

Unnerby slipped between them before Smith could even turn. He gave Honored Pedure the hard of his shoulders, sending her flying off the stage. Around them everything was confused. Pedure's people swarmed up from the floor, and were met by Smith's combateers swinging down from the visitors' gallery. Shock spread across the hall as cobbers lifted their heads from their readers and noticed just who was fighting. Then from high at the back there was a scream. "Look! The network news! The Accord has launched missiles on us!"

Unnerby led the combateers and his General out a side entrance. They raced down stairs toward the hidden shafts that dropped to the security core. Seven minutes to live? Maybe. But suddenly Hrunkner's heart soared free. What was left was so simple, just as it had been with Victory long ago. Life and death, a few good troops, and a few minutes to decide it all.

FIFTY-FIVE

Belga Underville was senior in the Command and Control Center. That really didn't count for much; Underville was Domestic Intelligence. What happened here could change her job forever, but she was out of this chain of command, just a link to civil defense and the King's household forces. Belga watched Elno Coldhaven, the shiny new Director of External Intelligence, the acting CO of the center. Coldhaven knew the firestorm of failures that had ended the career of his predecessor. He knew that Rachner Thract was no dummy and probably no traitor. And now Elno had the same job, and the chief was out of the country. He was operating very much without a safety net. More than once in last few days he had taken Underville aside and earnestly asked her advice. She suspected that this had been the chief's reason for having her stay down here rather than return to Princeton.