At least Blade needed no help to learn about the missile base. It was all laid out in front of him anytime he stepped out on the terrace, which he did about twice a day. He quickly memorized every key point so thoroughly he could have easily built a model of the base.
Taking out the base was not going to be a one-man job. Blade knew that almost at once. But twenty or thirty men armed to the teeth and taking it by surprise would have a chance. Forty or fifty would have a very good one. There were usually less than a hundred guards, they were scattered widely, and only a few of the Seekers bothered to carry weapons. The base was also a couple of hours' flying time from Doimar itself. The raiders could do their work and be long gone before reinforcements arrived.
a.s.suming you could conjure up the men needed, how likely was surprise? There Blade had to do more guessing than he liked, but finally decided that the chances were good enough to make the raid worth trying if he could get the men. The Doimari seemed to a.s.sume that the Kaldakans not only didn't know about the base but couldn't have done anything if they knew. There were virtually no antiaircraft defenses and all the radar sets were used for tracking missiles as they took off.
And if all else failed, there was still a one-man job which could upset Doimar's plans. Blade could kill Detcharn.
Killing his own son wasn't something Blade would normally have been contemplating this calmly. But then, normally he wouldn't have had to contemplate it at all. It was a tragedy that a mind as brilliant as Detcharn's had to be destroyed, but that very brilliance meant there was no one to take his place.
Of course Blade's own chances of survival afterward would be small. But he'd made up his mind on that point, too. Detcharn was too dangerous to be allowed to live.
"More wine, Voros?"
"Thank you, Moshra." Blade held his cup out as she poured from a crystal jug. It was good wine, tart and strong.
Through the picture window he saw the distant glow of the research base on the horizon. This was the second time Moshra had invited him to dinner. It was the first time she'd brought him to her private villa several miles from the base. Blade wondered if he was facing a second attempt by one of his daughters to seduce him.
Conversation died as they drank. The glow on the horizon brightened momentarily. After a bit the house started vibrating and gently. The rumble of the launch swelled, then died away.
"They're sending one off almost every night," said Moshra. Her voice was so toneless it was impossible to tell if she approved or not. Blade studied her as a woman, setting aside for the moment their blood relationship.
She was actually quite attractive, or would have been if she hadn't been wearing a shapeless gown and pulled her thick brown hair back into a tight knot. She also had the same remote, impersonal manner as when he'd first met her. He wondered if telepaths were required to be celibate?
Instead he said, "Your mind seems to be far away tonight. I might be in Kaldak for all the attention you're paying me."
She blushed, then managed a smile. "My mind has to be some distance away from yours. Otherwise it might be in yours."
"You don't have to touch me?"
"I can reach you more strongly when I am touching you. But even without that, I might read thoughts you did not want known." She sighed. "Being able to speak mind to mind is a great gift-they say. I have not always been better off for having it, though. But I think a good time is coming." She reached out and held Blade's hand.
Blade suppressed a start, then the urge to pull away. The gesture was so clumsy that he could hardly believe it had any s.e.xual meaning. Or did Moshra want to get rid of her virginity, if she had it, but didn't quite know how to go about persuading him to help her?
That was as far as he let his guessing go before he clamped a barrier over his mind. Cheeky yeeeped in protest. Blade tossed him a piece of bread with his free hand but didn't relax his mental control. He couldn't jerk his hand away without causing a scene, and as long as Moshra was touching him she could far too easily detect the questions he was asking in his mind.
Moshra's free hand fluttered over the wine jug like a moth around a candle flame. Suddenly it jerked convulsively, and the jug toppled off the table. Wine and shards of crystal made a mess on the rug.
"Oh, curse the-" began Moshra, but Blade was no longer listening to her. He'd heard a sound where no sound should be, from the curtained alcove in the rear of the room. His chair went over with a thump as he jumped up, and he was drawing his pistol as he whirled around.
Then the curtains parted and revealed a heavy-set, white-haired woman in a powered wheelchair. She pressed a b.u.t.ton and the wheelchair rolled out into the room. Then her face split in a familiar grin.
"Welcome back to Doimar, Richard Blade."
Chapter 17.
It was Feragga, the woman who had ruled Doimar when Blade last visited.
Blade had heard of people's hearts stopping from sheer surprise. He came closer to having the experience than he liked this time. However, his mind kept working. He even kept some control over his mouth.
"I suppose there'd be no point in suggesting that you're imagining things in thinking I'm Richard Blade?" he asked drily.
"Of course not," said Feragga with her old bluntness. "After Moshra's reading of your thoughts, I don't care a pile of munfan dung who you say you are. I know you're Blade." She rolled her wheelchair close to the table. "Pour me a drink, Moshra."
"Mother Feragga, do you think you should?"
"I don't think about what I should or shouldn't do, Moshra. I haven't the time left to waste on thinking about such things. I just go on the way I did, and that means wine when I want it. Or do, you want your father to pour it?"
Blade grinned. Feragga hadn't changed a bit. She was still accustomed to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it. Moshra sighed and poured the wine. Feragga drank thirstily, smacking her lips.
"Good. Thank whoever's done it that I can still taste. When that goes, I will be ready for laying out and burning." She set the cup back on the table and stared at Blade. "You haven't aged hardly at all. I suppose time pa.s.ses at a different rates where you spent the last thirty years?"
"It obviously does," said Blade. If Feragga and Moshra had dug out his major secret, there wasn't much point arguing over the minor ones. There also wasn't much point in wasting time with polite conversation. Feragga couldn't have brought him here just to talk about old times.
"You're still a canny soul, aren't you?" said Feragga. "Well, I hardly expected anything else, and indeed it makes me glad. You'll understand what I want of you, and you'll do it better."
"Mother Feragga-" began Moshra again, but a shake of the white head silenced her.
"Remember how much trouble it took to get me out here tonight without anyone knowing?" Feragga said. "And remember that every new trip means more danger of discovery. Then think-do we have that much time to spare?"
"No."
"I knew you'd see it my way." She turned back to Blade. "First, let me just tell you that I adopted your daughter, Moshra, after her natural mother died in childbirth. In this way, I was able to have one of your children for my own, even though my seed was dry when you visited here last. I had great plans for Moshra and Doimar, but then Detcharn began a.s.suming more and more power. I was considered too feeble to be a threat, so I was left alone, but that's where Detcharn made his greatest mistake. Blade, I want you to escape from Doimar and warn Kaldak of what Detcharn plans."
Blade wasn't an easy man to surprise, and he'd already had one surprise this evening big enough to make everything else look puny. So he merely shrugged. "Easier said than done. And what if I think it's a trap?"
Moshra winced, but Feragga only laughed. "If you hadn't asked that question, I might have doubted you were the same Blade. I'll speak plainly. You do what I tell you, or I tell Detcharn who you are."
"If you want to attack him, should you give him that kind of knowledge?"
"I've give him the blood out of my heart if it would take his attention off his plans!" snarled Feragga. "Trying to find out how you came back from wherever you were will do that. Also, the Kaldakans will learn your secret sooner or later. Then they'll stop at nothing to get you back. Detcharn and the Seekers will be busy trying to prevent them. More attention gone elsewhere. It could go on like that for years. Meanwhile, sooner or later I can find someone else to get the secret to Kaldak. Not as good as you, maybe, but good enough for the job."
So if he didn't cooperate, he would be thrown to the wolves, and the Dimension X secret would be up the b.l.o.o.d.y spout! "You haven't changed either, Feragga."
"Thank you. I've tried not to, at least until there is peace between Doimar and Kaldak. There can't be until Detcharn's scheme is defeated."
She lowered her voice. "I do not love Kaldak, Blade. I do not even love you that much. But I do not love at all the idea of Detcharn ruling over a land of corpses and ruins, which is what he will do if he is not stopped."
Blade said nothing. If he and Feragga agreed that much, he didn't need to. It was still ironic, that this time he would be escaping from Doimar to warn Kaldak with her blessing instead of her curse. He made a business of pouring himself some more wine, while he considered her proposal for possible traps. He didn't entirely trust her, and he wasn't going to trust at all to luck if he could help it. Not with so much at stake.
"I'll do it," he said finally. "But one condition. I take the formula for the fever vaccine with me. That way Kaldak will be protected even if nothing else happens to Detcharn and the Seekers."
Feragga's bushy eyebrows rose. "Why should I do that?"
"So I can be sure that no one in Doimar can ever use the fever against Kaldak."
A long silence. "You don't trust me," said Feragga at last.
"Not enough to leave everything in your hands," said Blade. "I learned that early, in a hard school. Come on, Feragga. It won't do you any good if I tell Detcharn about this conversation, will it?" He saw her swallow and knew he was right.
However; she wasn't going to give up without a fight. "What good would that do you, Blade? Your secret would be out anyway, and Detcharn isn't given to grat.i.tude. You'd have as much to fear from him as ever."
"Not if he thought he had to conduct a purge of your friends before he could move. That would also keep him busy."
"You would be signing Moshra's death warrant as well as mine, Blade. Do you care so little for your daughter?"
Before Blade had to pretend that he didn't, Moshra slammed her hand down on the table angrily. "Mother Feragga, enough of this! If you go on asking for what my father will not give, we will get nothing. I am certain he would see us both die rather than do less than what he thinks is his duty. So if you will not talk sense, I will give him the formula myself."
"How did you come to know it?" said Feragga, startled.
Moshra blushed and bowed her head. "I could not help learning it from Detcharn's mind once when-when I was lying with him?"
"Your own brother?" said Blade.
"Half-brother," she corrected him in a flat voice. "He--he is proud of being bound by no Law-except-his own will. He- Father, why are you looking like that?"
Feragga gave a bawdy chuckle. "I'll wager his daughter Baliza tried to bed him in Kaldak. There's a l.u.s.ty wench, by all reports. She wouldn't have known who he was, of course. Just seen a fine piece of man's flesh and wanted to grab."
"Mother Feragga, do you read thoughts, too?"
"No, I just know more about the ways of men and women than you do." She sighed. "Blade, since it's doing things your way or not at all-so be it."
Over the last of the wine they worked out the details. Blade would make his planned trip to the new tracking station. Moshra would go with him. So would a soldier in Feragga's pay. Halfway to the station, the soldier would "hijack" the lifter by killing the pilot. Then Blade would take over.
"You can handle one of our lifters, I hope?" Feragga asked Blade.
"Well enough to get it and us down in one piece."
"Good."
Blade would then fly the lifter to a place free of Tribesmen, near the border with Kaldak. They would abandon the lifter and destroy it, then march overland into Kaldakan territory. After that it would be up to Blade. He would still need some luck, but with the serum formula to bargain with he thought he could manage.
"Make sure you destroy the lifter so thoroughly that no one will suspect it wasn't an accident," Feragga insisted.
"Why?" said Blade. He thought he knew, but wanted to draw her out anyway.
"It will be my neck otherwise," she said. "And while it's an old stiff neck, I'd like to keep it in one piece a little longer if I can. Also, I don't want civil war in Doimar."
She explained. The regular army of Doimar hadn't really forgiven the Seekers for their retreat in the great battle against Kaldak. Only Feragga herself had kept them from destroying the Seekers after the battle. Now only Detcharn kept the two factions working together. He was as good a soldier as he was a scientist, even though he had become a brutal tyrant, obsessed with the destruction of Kaldak.
"If it is learned, however, that the lifter was sent in order to warn Kaldak of Detcharn's plans, the soldiers will probably rise up against the Seekers. The Seekers will fight back. Neither side will win, but there will be many dead, and Doimar will not recover. I want peace not only between the soldiers and Seekers, but also between two strong cities. I do not want the Doimari to be slaves of Kaldak."
"I wouldn't ask it," said Blade. Also, the Seekers of Doimar were still the best and most advanced scientists in this Dimension. If they survived until peace broke out between the two big cities, the whole Dimension would benefit.
He still wasn't entirely happy with the thought of leaving Detcharn alive. No victory would be complete and no peace secure without his death. Even if his scheme for germ warfare was defeated, he might have a few other cards up his sleeve. What about hydrogen bombs, with the fusion reaction started by lasers instead of by a nuclear explosion?
However, this made it even more important to keep Blade's escape a secret. As long as Detcharn didn't know his plans were exposed, he would not use some other weapon against which Kaldak might have no defenses.
Blade would be buying time, no more. But if he bought enough, perhaps he could safely leave to others the job of killing Detcharn.
Chapter 18.
The lifter whined through the night sky. The interior was dark, except for the lights on the instrument panel. Blade could barely make out Moshra's face beside him. The soldier squatting aft by the open door was only a dim shape.
"Yeeep?" It was a question from Cheeky. He'd learned to communicate with Blade mostly by sound when Moshra was around. He didn't entirely trust her even if Blade thought he should. He definitely didn't like his thoughts being overheard by anyone except Blade or another Feathered One. This made communication between him and Blade a little slow and vague when Moshra was around.
"Not long now," said Blade. "We must be at least halfway." The pilot overheard him and nodded. "More like two-thirds," he said. "But this is the difficult part. We're over Tribal lands, and the Tribes don't like us much anymore, since . . ." He let his voice trail off. The regular armed forces of Doimar had been proud of winning the friendship of the Tribes, and didn't approve of Detcharn's bloodthirsty raid. However, they also couldn't speak out against Detcharn as long as he was Doimar's chief hope of victory.
"The Kaldakans have helped us, then," said Blade. "They took out a lot of the Newtec weapons the Tribes had, while I was in Kaldak. I doubt if they have anything which can hit you up here."
"I hope not," said the pilot. He made a minute adjustment of the controls. The lifter tilted slightly and swung onto a new course.
The soldier hadn't said anything during this exchange. But then, he hadn't spoken five words since the lifter took off. Blade wondered if the man was just naturally close-mouthed, or whether he was getting nervous. A nervous man would be a bad choice for this little job. Of course he'd been handpicked by Feragga, but Feragga wasn't a professional at intelligence work; and Blade didn't really trust anyone who wasn't Come on, Richard, he told himself. You're starting to jump at shadows. That's no way to go, even with this much at stake.
The trouble was, he couldn't quite forget how much was at stake.
Slowly, to keep both the soldier and the pilot from noticing it, Blade shifted his seat. Now he was no longer in the direct line of fire between the soldier and the pilot. He also unb.u.t.toned the flap of his holster.
Suddenly the soldier let out a wild scream. The pilot jumped and turned in his seat, just in time to receive a laser blast in the face. His face became a ghastly charred mask but somehow he didn't die. Blade started to rise but Moshra was on her feet first. He reached for her hand, to pull her down.
"No. I've sworn an oath to use my mind-speaking for help at times like this." She jerked free and stepped toward the dying pilot. This brought her directly into the path of the soldier. Like a striking snake, one arm of the soldier looped around her throat, while the other hand rammed his pistol into her back. She started to struggle, then stopped at his growl.
"You be still, or I shoot your friend. Same goes the other way, too." He pointed the gun at Blade. "Now you go and take the controls. Then fly us where I tell you?"
"To Detcharn?"
The arm tightened around Moshra's neck. "Just fly. Don't talk."
Blade decided this was the wrong time to try anything to subdue the disloyal soldier. He'd wait and find his opportunity when Moshra would have a better chance. Keeping his hands in clear view, he put his pistol on the seat. Then he started toward the empty copilot's seat.
"Soldier," said Moshra. "If Feragga isn't paying you enough-ehhhkkkk!" as the arm tightened around her throat.
"She can't pay enough to bring back my father. The d.a.m.ned Kaldakans killed him. She can't keep Detcharn's hands off my wife and baby, either."
"If it's Detcharn worrying you-" began Blade, but the soldier's reply was snarled.
"Fly, curse you, or she dies slow. Guts burned out, b.r.e.a.s.t.s burned off. Fly!"