, "A message from Megan?" Robert sounded breathless ashe looked down at the recording.

"Yesser. Petri says she's well, and sends her best."

"But-but that's great!" Robert whooped. "We're in contact again! We aren't alone anymore!"

"Yesser. That's true enough. In fact..." Athaclena watched Benjamin struggle to find the right words. "In fact, Petri brought more than a message. There are five people waitingfor you, back at the caves."

Both Robert and Athaclena blinked. "Five humans?"

Benjamin nodded, but with a look that implied he wasn't exactly sure that term was the most applicable. "Terragens Marines, ser."

"Oh," Robert said. Athaclena merely maintained her silence, kenning more closely than she was listening.

Benjamin nodded. "Professionals, ser. Five humans. I swear, it's incredible how it feels after all this time without-I mean, with only th' two of you until now. It's made the chims pretty hyper right at the moment. I think it might be best if you both came on back as quick as possible."

Robert and Athaclena spoke almost at once.

"Of course."

"Yes, let's go at once."

Almost imperceptibly, the closeness between Athaclena and Robert altered. They had been holding hands when Benjamin ran up. Now they did not renew that grasp. It seemed inappropriate as they marched along the narrow trail. A new unknown factor had slipped in between them. They did not have to look at each other to know what the other was thinking.

For better or for worse, things had changed.

58 Robert Major Prathachulthorn pored over the readouts that lay like blown leaves spread across the plotting table. The chaos was only apparent, Robert realized as he watched the small, dark man work, for Prathachulthorn never needed to search for anything. Whatever it was he wanted, somehow he found it with barely a flick of his shadowed eyes and a quick grasp of his callused hands.

At intervals the Marine officer glanced over to a holo-tank and muttered subvocally into his throat microphone. Data whirled in the tank, shifting and turning in subtle rearrangements at his command.

Robert waited, standing at ease in front of the table of rough-cut logs. It was the fourth time Prathachulthorn had summoned him to answer tersely phrased questions. Each time Robert grew more awed by the man's obvious precision and skill.

Clearly, Major Prathachulthorn was a professional. In only a day he and his small staff had started to bring order to the partisans' makeshift tactical programs, rearranging data, sifting out patterns and insights the amateur insurgents had never even imagined.

Prathachulthorn was everything their movement had needed. He was exactly what they had been praying for.

No question about it. Robert hated the man's guts. Now he was trying to figure out exactly why.

I mean, besides the fact that he's making, me stand here in silence until he's good and ready. Robert recognized that for a simple way of reinforcing the message of who was boss. Knowing that helped him take it with good grace, mostly.

The major looked every inch the compleat Terragens commando, even though his sole military adornment was an insignia of rank at his left shoulder. Not even in full dress uniform would Robert ever look as much a soldier as Prathachulthorn did right now, draped in ill-fitting cloth woven by gorillas under a sulfrous volcano.

The Earthman spent some time drumming his fingers on the table. The repet.i.tious thumping reminded Robert of the headache he'd been trying to fight off with biofeedback for an hour or more. For some reason the technique wasn't working this time. He felt closed in, claustrophobic, short of breath. And seemed to be getting worse.

At last Prathachulthorn looked up. To Robert's surprise the man's first remark could be taken as something distantly akin to a compliment.

"Well, Captain Oneagle," Prathachulthorn said. "I confess to having feared things would be much, much worse than I find them here.'

"I'm relieved to hear it, sir."

Prathachulthorn's eyes narrowed, as if he suspected an ever-so-thin veneer of sarcasm in Robert's voice. "To be precise," he went on, "I feared I would discover that you had lied in your report to the Council in Exile, and that I would have to shoot you."

Robert suppressed an impulse to swallow and managed to maintain an impa.s.sive expression. "I'm glad that did not turn out to be necessary, sir."

"So am I. I'm sure your mother would have been irritated, for one thing. As it is, and bearing in mind that yours was a strictly amateur enterprise, I'm willing to credit you with a good effort here."

Major Prathachulthorn shook his head. "No, that's unfairly restrained. Let me put it this way. There is much I'd have done otherwise, had I been here. But in light of how poorly the official forces have fared, you and your chims have performed very well indeed."

Robert felt a hollowness in his chest begin to relax. "I'm sure the chims will be glad to hear it, sir. I'd like to point out, though, that I was not sole leader here. The Tymbrimi Athaclena carried a good part of that burden."

Major Prathachulthorn's expression turned sour. Robert wasn't sure if it was because Athaclena was a Galactic, or because Robert, as a militia officer, should have retained all authority himself.

"Ah, yes. The 'General.' " His indulgent smile was patronizing, at the very least. He nodded. "I will mention her a.s.sistance in my report. Amba.s.sador Uthacalthing's daughter is clearly a resourceful young alien. I hope she is willing to continue helping us, in some capacity."

"The chims worship her, sir," Robert pointed out.

Major Prathachulthorn nodded. As he looked over toward the wall, his voice took on a thoughtful tone. "The Tymbrimi mystique, I know. Sometimes I wonder if the media knows what the h.e.l.l it's doing, creating such ideas. Allies or no allies, our people have got to understand that Earthclan will always be fundamentally alone. We'll never be able to fully trust anything Galactic. "- Then, as if he felt he might have said too much, Prathachulthorn shook his head and changed the subject. "Now about future operations against the enemy-"

"We've been thinking about that, sir. Their mysterious surge of activity in the mountains seems to have ended, though for how long we don't know. Still, there are some ideas we've been batting around. Things we might use against them when and if they come back."

"Good." Prathachulthorn nodded. "But you must understand that in the future we'll have to coordinate all actions in the Mulun with other planetary forces. Irregulars are simply incapable of hurting the enemy where his real a.s.sets are. That was demonstrated when the city chim insurrectionists were wiped out trying to attack the s.p.a.ce batteries near Port Helenia."

Robert saw Prathachulthorn's point. "Yessir. Although since then we have captured some munitions which could be useful."

"A few missiles, yes. They might be handy, if we can figure out how to use them. And especially if we have the right information about where to point them.

"We have altogether too little data," the major went on. "I want to gather more and report back to the Council. After that, our task will be to prepare to support any action they choose to undertake."

Robert finally asked the question that he had put off since returning to find Prathachulthorn and his small group of human officers here, turning the cave refuge upside down, poking into everything, taking over. "What will be done with our organization, sir? Athaclena and I, we've given a number of chims working officer status. But except for me n.o.body here has a real colonial commission."

Prathachulthorn pursed his lips. "Well, you're the simplest case, captain. Clearly you deserve a rest. You can escort Amba.s.sador Uthacalthing's daughter back to the Refuge with our next report, along with my recommendation for a promotion and a medal. I know the Coordinator would like that. You can fill them in on how you made your fine discovery about the Gubru resonance tracking technique."

From his tone of voice, the major made it quite clear what he would think of Robert if he took up the offer. "On the other hand, I'd be pleased to have you join my staff, with a brevet marine status of first lieutenant in addition to your colonial commission. We could use your experience."

"Thank you, sir. I think I'll remain here, if it's all right with you."

"Fine. Then we'll a.s.sign someone else to escort-"

"I'm sure Athaclena will want to stay as well," Robert hurriedly added.

"Hmm. Well, yes. I am certain she could be helpful for a while. Tell you what, captain. I'll put the matter to the Council in my next letter. But we must be sure of one thing. Her status is no longer military. The chims are to cease referring to her as a command officer. Is that clear?"

"Yessir, quite clear." Robert only wondered how one enforced that sort of order on civilian neo-chimpanzees, who tended to call anybody and anything whatever they pleased.

"Good. Now, as for those formerly under your command ... I do happen to have brought with me a few blank colonial commissions which we can a.s.sign to chims who have shown notable initiative. I have no doubt you'll recommend names."

Robert nodded. "I will, sir'."

He recalled that one other member of their "army" besides himself had already been in the militia. The thought of Fiben-certainly dead for a long time, now-made him suddenly even more depressed. These caves! They're driving me nuts. It's getting harder and harder to bear the time I must spend down here.

Major Prathachulthorn was a disciplined soldier and had spent months in the Council's underground refuge. But Robert had no such firmness of character. I've got to get out!

"Sir," he said quickly. "I'd like to ask your permission to leave base camp for a few days, to run an errand down near Lome Pa.s.s ... at the ruins of the Howletts Center."

Prathachulthorn frowned. "The place where those gorillas were illegally gene-meddled?"

"The place where we won our first victory," he reminded the commando, "and where we made the Gubru accept parole."

"Hmph," the major grunted. "What do you expect to find there?"

Robert suppressed an impulse to shrug. In his suddenly worsening claustrophobia, in his need for any excuse to get away, he pulled forth an idea that had until then only been a glimmer at the back of his mind.

"A possible weapon, sir. It's a concept for something that might help a lot, if it worked."

That piqued Prathachulthorn's interest. "What is this weapon?"

"I'd rather not be specific right now, sir. Not until I've had a chance to verify a few things. I'll only be gone three or four days at the most. I promise."

"Hmm. Well." Prathachulthorn's lips pursed. "It will take that long just to put these data systems into shape. You'll only get underfoot till that's done. Afterwards, though, I'll be needing you. We've got to prepare a report to the Council."

"Yessir, I'll hurry back."

"Very well, then. Take Lieutenant McCue with you. I want one of my own men to see the countryside. Show McCue how you accomplished your little coup, introduce her to the leaders of the more important chim partisan bands in that area, then return without delay. Dismissed."

Robert came to attention. I think I know now why I hate him, Robert realized as he saluted, performed an about-face, and walked out through the hanging blanket that served as a door to the subterranean office.

Ever since he had returned to the caves to find Prathachulthorn and his aides moving around like owners, patronizing the chims and judging everything they had all done together, Robert had been unable to stop feeling like a child who had, until that moment, been allowed to play a wonderful dramatic role, a really fun game. But now the child had to bear paternal pats on the head-strokes that burned, even if intended in praise.

It was an embarra.s.sing a.n.a.logy, and yet he knew that in a sense it was true after all.

Robert blew a silent sigh and hurried away from the office and dark armory he had shared with Athaclena, but which.now had been completely taken over by grownups.

Only when he was finally back under the tall forest canopy did Robert feel he could breathe freely again. The trees' familiar scents seemed to cleanse his lungs of the dank cave odors. The scouts who flitted ahead of him and alongside were those he knew, quick, loyal, feral-looking with their crossbows and sooty faces. My chims, he thought, feeling a little guilty that it came to hjm in those words. But the feeling of proprietorship was there anyway. It was like the "old days" -- before yesterday-when he had felt important and needed.

The illusion broke apart, though, the next time Lieutenant McCue spoke.

"These mountain forests are very beautiful," she said. "I wish I'd taken the time to come up here before the war broke out." The Earthling officer stopped by the side of the trail to touch a blue-veined flower, but it folded away from her fingers and retreated backward into the thicket. "I've read about these things, but this is my first chance to see them for myself."

Robert grunted noncommittally. He would be polite and answer any direct question, but he wasn't interested in conversation, especially with Major Prathachulthorn's second in command.

Lydia McCue was an athletic young woman, with dark, well-cut features. Her movements, lithe like a commando's-or an a.s.sa.s.sin's-were by that same nature also quite graceful. Dressed in homespun kilt and blouse, she might have been taken for a peasant dancer, if it weren't for the self-winding arbalest she cradled in the crook of one arm like a child. In hip pouches were enough darts to pincushion half the Gubru within a hundred kilometers. The knives sheathed at her wrists and ankles were for more than show.

She seemed to have very little trouble keeping up with his rapid pace through the criss-cross jungle mesh of vines. That was just as well, for he wasn't about to slow down. At the back, of his mind Robert knew he was being unfair. She was probably a nice enough person in her own way, for a professional soldier. But for some reason everything likable about her seemed to irritate him all the more.

Robert wished Athaclena had consented to come along. But she had insisted on remaining in her glade near the caves, experimenting with tame vines and crafting strange, ornate glyphs that were far too subtle to be kenned by his own weak powers. Robert had felt hurt and stormed off, almost outracing his escorts for the first few kilometers.

"So much life." The Earth woman kept pace beside him and inhaled the rich odors. "This is a peaceful place."

You're wrong on both counts, Robert thought, with a trace of contempt for her dull, human insensitivity to the truth about Garth, a truth he could feel all around him. Through Athaclena's tutoring he now could reach out-albeit tentatively, awkwardly-and trace the life-waves that fluxed through the quiet forest.

"This is an unhappy land," he replied simply. He did not elaborate, even when she gave him a puzzled look. His primitive empathy sense withdrew from her confusion.

For a while they moved in silence. The morning aged. Once the scouts whistled, and they took cover under thick branches as great cruisers lumbered overhead. When the way was clear Robert took to the trail again without a word.

At last, Lydia McCue spoke again. "This place we're heading for," she asked, "this Howletts Center. Would you please tell me about it?"

It was a simple request. He could not refuse, since Prathachulthorn had sent her along to be shown things. But Robert avoided her black eyes as he spoke. He tried to be matter-of-fact, but emotion kept creeping into his voice. Under her low prompting Robert told Lydia McCue about the sad, misguided, but brilliant work of the renegade scientists. His mother had known nothing of the Howletts Center, of course. It was only by accident that he himself had learned of it a year or so before the invasion, and he had decided to keep silent.

Of course the daring experiment was over now. It would take more than a miracle to save the neo-gorillas from sterilization, now that the secret was known, to people like Major Prathachulthorn.

Prathachulthorn might hate Galactic Civilization with a pa.s.sion that bordered on fanaticism, but he knew how essential it was that Terrans not break their solemn pacts with the great Inst.i.tutes. Right now, Earth's only hope lay in the ancient codes of the Progenitors. To keep the protection of those codes, weak clans had to be like Caesar's wife, above reproach.

Lydia McCue listened attentively. She had high cheekbones and eyes that were sultry in their darkness. It pained Robert to look at them, though. Those eyes seemed somehow to be set too close together, too immobile. He kept his attention on the crooked path ahead of him.

And yet, with a soft voice the young Marine officer drew him out. Robert found himself talking about Fiben Bolger, about their narrow escape together from the gas-bombing of the Mendoza Freehold, and of his friend's first journey down into the Sind.

And the second, from which he never returned.

They crested a ridge topped with eerie spine-stones and came to an opening overlooking a narrow vale, just west of Lome Pa.s.s. He gestured to the tumbled outlines of several burned structures. "The Howletts Center," he said, flatly.

"This is where you forced the Gubru to acknowledge chim combatants, isn't it? And made them give parole?" Lydia McCue asked. Robert realized he was hearing respect in her voice, and turned briefly to stare at her. She returned his look with a smile. Robert felt his face grow warm.

He swung back quickly, pointing to the hillside nearest the center and rapidly describing how the trap had been laid and sprung, skipping only his own trapeze leap to take out the Gubru sentry. His part had been unimportant, anyway. The chims were the crucial ones that morning. He wanted the Earthling soldiers to know that.

He was finishing his story when Elsie approached. The chimmie saluted him, something that had never seemed necessary before the Marines arrived.

"I don t know about actually goin' down there, ser," she said, earnestly. "The enemy's already shown an interest in those ruins. They may have come back."

Robert shook his head. "When Benjamin paroled the enemy survivors, one condition they accepted was to stay out of this valley, and not even keep its approaches under surveillance, from then on. Has there been any sign of them breaking their word?"

Elsie shook her head. "No, but-" Her lips pressed together, as if she felt she ought to forbear comment on the wisdom of trusting the pledges of Eatees.

Robert smiled. "Well, then. Come on. If we hurry we can be in and back out by nightfall."

Elsie shrugged. She made a quick set of hand gestures. Several chims darted out of the spine-stones and down into the forest. After a moment there came an all-clear whistle. The rest of the party crossed the gap at a brisk run.

"They are very good," Lydia McCue told him softly after they were back under the trees again.

Robert nodded, recognizing that she had not qualified her remark by adding, "for amateurs," as Prathachulthorn would have done. He was grateful for that, and wished she wasn't being so nice.

Soon they were picking their way toward tumbled ruins, carefully searching for signs that anyone else had been there since the battle, months ago. There did not seem to be any, but that did not diminish the intense vigilance of the chims.

Robert tried to kenn, to use the Net to probe for intruders, but his own jumbled feelings kept getting in the way. He wished Athaclena were here.

The wreckage of the Howletts Center was even more compete ttvan ad been apparent from the hillside. The fire-blackened buildings had collapsed further under wild jungle vegetation now growing rampant over former lawns. The Gubru vehicles, long ago stripped of anything useful, lay in tangles of thick gra.s.s as tall as his waist. been apparent from the hillside. The fire-blackened buildings had collapsed further under wild jungle vegetation now growing rampant over former lawns. The Gubru vehicles, long ago stripped of anything useful, lay in tangles of thick gra.s.s as tall as his waist.

No, clearly n.o.body's been here, he thought. Robert kicked through the wreckage. Nothing remained of interest. Why did I insist on coming? he wondered. He knew his hunch -- whether it panned out or not-had actually been little more than an excuse to escape from the caves-to get away from Prathachulthorn.